Vicky always loved to feel his thick hot load filling her cunt. He had a lot stored up this time. It flooded her pussy and overflowed, running down her legs. The searing flood made her orgasm even longer and more intense.
Even as she started coming down from that delicious orgasm, she was hungry for another one. It had been so long since she and Don had fucked, just one climax wasn't going to satisfy her. It might take two or three to do the job.
"Honey," she gurgled, massaging his prick with her greedy cunt.
But Don gently rolled her off him and gave her a peck on the cheek. "That was great, honey," he yawned. "Good night."
Good night? When her whole body was seething and aching with lust? Vicky couldn't believe it. But Don rolled on his side, turned off the light, and in less than a minute he was snoring.
"Shit," she moaned.
She'd gotten all the loving she was going to get, and that would probably be it for the next two weeks. She could have sobbed with frustration. That one wonderful orgasm had just whetted her appetite for more. She could have fucked for hours and still not have been satisfied.
Well, she had to face reality. Don was through for the night, maybe through for the month, and if she wanted more sex, she'd have to find another way to get it. And there was only one way she could think of.
Vicky rolled over to the far side of the bed, lay on her back, and opened her thighs. She slipped a hand between her legs and touched the hot and swollen flesh of her pussy. She rubbed the engorged folds and whimpered with need. She didn't believe in cheating, so masturbation was the only way out for her.
She hadn't played with herself in years, not since she was a lusty teenaged virgin. She'd almost forgotten how. But as she ran her fingers over her needy pussy, the technique quickly came back to her. Slowly and deliciously she discovered what felt best to her.
"Mmmmm, mmmmmm," she sighed.
No danger of waking Don up. He was out for the count. She allowed herself to sigh and gurgle as she caressed the steaming wet flesh of her pussy. Soon she zeroed in one the most sensitive and tender spot of all.
She found the little hooded lump of her clit at the very top of her pussy, and she pressed a fingertip to it and rubbed it in a slow sensuous circular motion. Sizzling cream spurted from her cunt and ran down the crack of her ass to puddle on the sheet beneath her. No, she hadn't forgotten how to play with herself, thank heaven.
Masturbation was going to be her only source of sex for quite a while, so she might as well go for it. She ran her fingertip faster and faster around her swollen clit, giving herself hot stabs of pleasure. She'd soon soaked her twirling finger with her heavily seeping cunt-juice.
It felt damned good, but it wasn't what she wanted most. She ached to feel Don's big hard cock pounding mercilessly in her cunt. Her fingers could never give her that kind of satisfaction. But she didn't have a choice.
Her fingers would have to do the job of a cock, somehow. Vicky slid one stiff finger into her molten seething pussy, and it felt pretty good. It wasn't as big as a cock, through, and a cock was what she really craved.
She tried inserting a second finger, and that was better, but it still wasn't quite what she needed. She somehow managed to wedge a third finger into her slick little pussy, and that was just right. It was almost as thick as a cock.
"Yeah, mmmmmmm," she gurgled.
With three fingers bunched together, she finger-fucked herself. She started slowly, then speeded up, finding that the faster she did it, the better it felt. Her fingers made an obscene sucking sound as they reamed her famished cunt.
"Ohhhhh, shit, good!" she moaned.
Soon she was finger-fucking herself as hard and fast as she could, aching to come. The bed quivered a little, but she didn't worry about waking Don. Hell, she could have been fucking another guy in that bed and Don wouldn't have woken up.
She put that forbidden thought out of her mind and just slammed her fingers harder and harder in her squirting little fuck-hole. She shoved her fingers as deep as they'd go, plumbing her molten depths. Then suddenly a gigantic orgasm ripped through her body.
"Ohhhhh, God, yesss, unnngghhhh!" she sobbed.
She moaned and writhed and rocked as she masturbated her way through that desperately needed orgasm. That would hold her for tonight. But what about tomorrow and all the days after that? What about all those horny nights when Don was too tired to fuck?
"Shit," Vicky sighed, "what am I gonna do?"
She couldn't go on dying of sexual frustration, yet she didn't believe in cheating on her husband. She couldn't accept playing with herself for the rest of her life, either. But as she fell asleep, she couldn't think of an answer to her problem.
CHAPTER THREE
On Saturday Vicky's neighbor and best friend Joan Shelton was working on the flower beds in her back yard. A slim blonde young woman, she was dressed in a skimpy halter and shorts, hoping to get her husband's attention.
But Frank had hardly looked at her all morning, and now he popped his head out the patio door and announced, "I think I'll go play a little golf, honey."
Joan tried to sound cheerful as she replied, "Okay, dear, have a nice time."
Golf, hell, she thought.
She could think of something a lot more fun to do than play golf. Her hot neglected pussy was driving her crazy. She'd have loved a couple of hours in bed with Frank, but he was more interested in knocking around a silly little ball.
So it was going to be another frustrating day. Joan tried to think of how long it had been since she and Frank had fucked, and she couldn't remember. Two weeks, three? It seemed that her attractive husband just wasn't interested in sex any more.
Joan wished her friend Vicky was home so they could talk, but Vicky had gone shopping. The two pals often discussed the problems they had with their husbands. They were both in the same boat, with seven-year marriages that had gone stale. Both women were starved for some loving.
Joan's unhappy thoughts were interrupted when she heard voices from next door. She recognized the voice of Don Andrews, Vicky's husband, but there was a female voice, too, that she couldn't quite place.
Curious, Joan strolled over to the knothole in the fence. Maybe she was being nosy, but she wanted to know who Don's visitor was. She peered through and saw the newest member of the block, Shelly, the gorgeous red-haired divorcee, standing by Don's chair and smiling at him.
Hussy, Joan thought.
Shelly was wearing a little sun-dress that hardly covered her ass. It was cut so low in front, her big tits seemed about to pop out. Don was taking full advantage of the view, too, ogling her superb body.
"I was baking this morning," Shelly said, "and I guess I made too many cookies. I thought you and Vicky might like some."
"Gee, thanks, Shelly," Don said, accepting a bag of cookies. "Vicky's not here right now. But I could use some company. Like a drink?"
"Oh, that'd be nice!" Shelly beamed. "And it'll be nice to have somebody to talk to. I've felt so lonely since I got my divorce."
Joan scowled through the knothole. Shelly was very obviously coming on to Don, but the dummy didn't seem to realize it. He went into the house and soon returned with a couple of drinks. He pulled up another chair for Shelly.
Shelly arranged herself very carefully in that chair, crossing her legs so that Don had just a tantalizing glimpse of her pink lacy panties. Fanning herself and pretending to be too warm, she unbuttoned another button of her dress, making her cleavage even deeper.
"Gosh, I'm so hot," she sighed.
You're making that obvious, lady, Joan thought angrily.
Don was staring at Shelly like she was dessert. He couldn't keep his eyes off the deep valley between her big ripe tits, and now then he'd sneak a look at her panty crotch. And according to Vicky, this guy wasn't interested in sex!