Tentatively, Helen pinched the throbbing tips of her nipples and moaned as rippling sensations of warmth spread quickly from their sensitively hardening flesh. Lewd images kept coming to her mind, the obscene hope she'd felt at the sight of her husband's desire-thickened penis haunted her. She pressed her open palm over the hair-covered mound of her wetly pulsating cunt. She pressed harder, seeking to contain the passion that seethed unchecked within, but only making it erupt within her love-starved body. Helen's finger stole gently into the pulsing folds of her moistly heated cunt, and for a split second, her middle finger brushed against the tiny nub of her clitoris, making her moan aloud from the sudden searing contact.
The lewd temptation of the forbidden act was too much for the disappointed housewife, and she felt the final vestiges of restraint giving away. With a savage moan of desire, Helen frantically rubbed at the source of her passion. Moaning softly, she allowed her caressing fingers access to the hair-trimmed surface of her desire-filled pussy. Breathing in ragged gasps, Helen propelled her fingers into the famished center of her cuntal mouth. The soft, vibrant feeling that came over her grew stronger as she lay there, lovely and naked in the dark, her fingers groping obscenely in the warm folds of her seeping vagina. Of its own will her finger, the middle one, sought the hard tip of her clitoris and teased and tormented the little nerve ending into a vibrant imitation of an erection.
"MMmmmm… Ooooohh!" she sighed in bliss as the tips of her fingers grazed her hotly moistened vaginal inner lips and then dipped hesitantly down to the tight opening to her femininity. With agonizing caution, the frustrated wife guided her trembling digit toward the sensitive little orifice and then with bated breath felt it sink into the silken sheath of her own desire-filled vagina. A jolt of pure unadulterated pleasure shot through her belly, and rays of pleasure emanated from that tender friction between her finger and the warm membrane of her wetly clasping pussy. Eagerly, the blonde wife explored deeper inside her own womanhood, reveling now in the self-given delight. She could feel her own fleshy vaginal walls as they closed in avidly around her penetrating finger, and suddenly it was clear that one finger was not enough!
It was a desperate need, and Helen could not resist plunging one and then two more fingers into the moistly heated opening. Testing the pleasurable results, the good-looking blonde began to swirl and revolve all three fingers within the hungering depths of her wetly clasping cunt.
Helen's other hand began to massage the upthrust mounds of her breasts as bit by bit, her crazed lust took more and more control. It must happen again! Her body must become used to, accustomed to the full passionate ministrations of a warm and loving male! She just couldn't go on like this! Her wine-dazed brain desperately sought the answer to her dilemma even while her fingers brought a semblance of the satiation that she needed.
In the darkness, Helen could make out the dim furnishings of the living room, the bookshelves, the paintings, the overhead chandelier, the tasteful sculptures upon the cabinet. When her eyes had remained fixed on one particular sculpture for a few seconds, Helen knew that it was when she had been looking for. Somewhere in her subconscious, the memory of that lewd abstract piece of art had remained. Long and cylindrical, its smooth shape was reminiscent of nothing so much as a male phallus, and a male penis was exactly what Helen Randolph wanted and had to have. It did not matter at the moment that it was far from real, for even as the drunk and distraught wife staggered up from the couch, she knew that it would feel better than her pitifully inadequate fingers in the tormented fire-pit of her shamelessly pulsing cunt.
"AH!" Helen grabbed at the object and felt an immediate surge of joy as the thickness of it made itself felt in her palm. She knew right away just how it would feel rising high inside her tormented vagina! Rushing back to the couch with the sculpture in her hand, base and all, Helen recalled with a certain amount of maniacal glee that her husband had given the sculpture to her one Christmas many years ago. Little had he dreamed then, that she would make such a good use of his gift! Already the absolutely smooth glistening wood called "Tribute to Space" was touching the quivering surfaces of her outer cunt! Helen manipulated the work of art skillfully, almost as though she had done it before, even though Helen could not remember masturbating since she was a girl of thirteen or fourteen. But it was easy now to hold the thing by the base, and as she lay with her eagerly trembling thighs spread out wide to place the rounded tip of it at the wetly tingling opening of her pussy. Now all she had to do was push!
A vague nagging doubt lingered in the young wife's brain. What am I doing? Have I gone mad?
The lascivious image that she must present, lying there naked in the living room while her husband slept peacefully in the nearby bedroom made Helen falter for an instant. Then just as suddenly as it had come, the image went, to be replaced by that of her husband, Adam, snoring by now no doubt in the bedroom. Blind fury took control of the inebriated blonde wife, and taking hold of the base of the wooden penis, she thrust it inward, forcing the tip-end of it between the gaping split of her sensitive vaginal lips. It rose upward, thick and full and hard within the tightly clasping channel of her cunt while Helen began a muttered chant, her voice tense and feverish: "His fault! His fault! It's all because of him! He's made me do this!" Helen sobbed and grunted alternately as the penis-substitute filled her sensuously pulsating pussy and as she relentlessly forced the long, hard shape past her wetly quivering vaginal lips up into her belly.
"Oh, God!" she sighed finally in relief. It was embedded right up to the mouth of her womb. Automatically, her loins began an involuntary gyration against the lewd object which was a copy of an original work to be found in the Modem Museum of the city. Warily at first, but with a growing assurance of what she was doing, Helen began to slide the big phallus-shaped object of finely polished wood in and out of her gratefully accepting channel.
"Oh, it's good!" The frustrated scientist's wife could hardly believe how well the thick girth and the satisfying length and firmness fulfilled her great need. New and more reassuring waves of a once familiar pleasure washed over her.
Within moments, Helen had begun to twist and turn, her legs moved crazily about on the sofa, one frequently hanging off toward the thickly rugged floor, the other sometimes climbing up to the back of the cushion. Wide, wide, wider! The naked wife gyrated lewdly, obscenely beneath her own self-fucking, as if she were seeking to win some kind of prize for lasciviousness. Helen's loins ground up eagerly now, her mouth working grotesquely in an incessant stream of passionate mewls.
Then with appalling suddenness, she was on the verge of her longed-for release. It was too soon, and yet not soon enough. How long had she waited and wanted this moment? In her fury, the professor's wife jammed the elegant sculpture, the thick wooden pole of her lust, harder and faster into her churning cuntal depths.
Helen's face flushed with a pink moistness, her expression twisted so that she had a look of utter insanity as she strove to fulfill both the roles she had given herself. She was both giving and receiving the hard, thrusting fucking. And then a low, almost mournful wail slipped from her throat as the first shudders of her long awaited pleasure began to convulse her. The golden strands of her hair spread in an iridescent tangle about her head as the excited wife began to spin in the wild vortex of her orgasm. Colors and feelings molded into one behind her tightly closed eyelids. The wet, sluicing sounds of her shameless masturbation met her ears and increased her excitement at this moment of intense climax. In and out, in and out, the substitute penis worked upon the sensitive tissues, bringing her a joy she's almost forgotten existed. What Helen wanted, she gave herself with the help of the lewdly shaped piece of sculpture. Moan after moan escaped the harried woman's lips as the pseudo-cock fucked upward between her widespread thighs until finally a whirlpool of desire grabbed her and spun her about until she had lost all sense of time and place until she had forgotten just who she was and why she was nakedly sprawled upon the living-room sofa.