"What?" he bellowed, his cock twitching anxiously, just on the verge of climax. She even saw dribbles of semen gather in the slit in the head.
"Fuck me, Phillip! Put your cock in my pussy again. I want to feel you inside me once more."
She lay back on the carpet and spread her thighs, her finger still working on her erect pleasure button, the gushing pussy inflamed by her prodding.
He did not hesitate. His cock wanted to be inside something, anything – mouth or cunt made no difference.
He dropped atop her and slid his prick into her velvety cunt. She was ready for him this time, her finger having brought her to the point just short of orgasm, waiting for the final fuck stroke to be delivered by the hot cock fucking again and again into her dripping wet pussy.
"Fuck me, Phillip. This time, make me come. Fuck me hard! Oh, fuck, fuck. FUCK ME HARDER!"
He plunged, rose plunged again. He was fucking her until she thought he would tear her cunt flesh, split her wide open. He was a raging tornado, swirling around inside her pussy, his shaft a huge funnel being fed into her snatch. She poised on the very brink of orgasm, waiting, waiting for him.
She could feel his prick twitch, knew by the raggedness of his breathing, by the speed of his plunges that his release was near.
"Hard, baby. Stick me hard!" She rose to meet him.
"Christ, it's here. Ahhhh!"
The cock cream spurted its liquid fire into her cunt, and her wait was over. She let go her cunt juices mingling with his as the thrill of climax shuddered through her.
"Coming, too. I'm… commmmingggg!"
The world swirled around her, gyrating frantically as electric shocks of pleasure spasmed through her. She lay spent and exhausted, glowing in the aftermath of her total fulfillment.
And the realization of her sexual power, to be used to get her all the fucking and sucking she wanted, was very real.
CHAPTER THREE
She could have slept late. There was no one to wake her, no one she had to be up for. But she was up early. Not early enough to see the sun rise, but early enough to watch the last purples and oranges and crimsons wink out of existence under the steady crawl of Old Sol in the heavens.
The early bird gets the worm, though for Wendy there was a different kind of worm she had in mind. And she would not mind at all taking it in her beak. And several other places too.
The question was, whose worm did she want?
Not some young buck this time. She had had her fill of them. Though Phillip had finally come across with the fucking she had been seeking it had taken too much out of her. Her finger had primed her, she admitted, and his cock had only been the final instrument of the clutching rush to orgasm.
Experience was the answer. An older man. But who? She hadn't the slightest idea at the moment, but she meant to do some looking. She would shop around for her conquest, around the neighborhood if it came to that. There were plenty of men right here within a few blocks of her, right at her fingertips.
She showered and got dressed. Had she showered last night? She wasn't sure. She had been dazed by the blissful agony of her orgasm, and whatever happened after was somehow muddled in her mind. Her sleep had been fitful, filled with huge pricks and cocks, swaying above her supine body like bludgeons, threatening in their massiveness.
She chose a light yellow halter and a pair of tight-fitting yellow bellbottoms. She had to do quite a bit of wriggling to slip herself into the pants, but there was no doubt that the ultimate effect was truly erotic.
Breakfast was sparse, toast and orange juice. She did not feel especially hungry, nor did she wish to take the necessary time for an elaborate meal.
She ambled out into the backyard, clutching her second glass of juice.
To her pleasant surprise, Mr. Johnson, her next-door neighbor was also up and about, puttering with his barbecue grill.
"Good morning," she said, leaning against the fence, not more than three feet from him. She smiled at him as he turned to face her, letting her dimples show.
"HA. You're up awfully early."
"Oh. And look who's talking. I was about to say the same about you. Where's your wife?"
"She's still asleep. Won't be up till noon, I guess."
Wendy knew that Johnson's wife was pregnant, about eight months now she reckoned.
"How's she doing?" Wendy was aware that his eyes had discovered her tits. The halter did not leave much to the imagination, and he seemed quite appreciative of the tits she displayed.
"Not good, not bad. She's having a rough time of it lately. Just lays around a lot. Can't say I blame her any. Hate like hell to carry around a belly like that for this long."
"Must be rough on a husband, too, I would imagine."
Tiny beads of sweat had broken out on his upper lip.
"Yeah. A man has to learn to do without little things. Like breakfast."
And pussy thought Wendy. I wonder how long it's been since he's sunk his cock into a cunt?
"Oh, you haven't had breakfast yet. Why don't you let me make you some? I was just about to fix myself something."
He paused, looked back at his house. He had said his wife would sleep till noon. There were no other neighbors up this early in the morning. Who would know that he had gone into the Halliburton house?
"I don't want to put you to any bother."
"No trouble. No trouble at all. Come on."
She could tell that things were crossing his mind. Crossing it with enough strength to give him the beginning of an erection, Wendy noted.
She turned then, and gave him a good shot of her tight little ass. When she looked back over her shoulder, he was already moving toward the gate to enter her backyard.
The morning was even more beautiful than ever.
It was good to be alive.
Wendy watched him finish the last of the bacon and eggs though she knew for some time his mind had been on something other than food. She had felt his stare on her back while she was preparing the food. Now she sat across from him, nursing a coffee cup, making certain that her tits were always in full view.
"Thanks, Wendy. I had almost forgotten what it was like to start the day this way."
She stood up and gathered the dishes, bending just enough to give him a solid view of her tits. She heard the sharp intake of his breath.
"I'll bet there are lots of things that husbands of pregnant wives think they'll forget. Wifely duties of one sort… or another."
She stacked the dishes in the sink, wiped her hands, and then moved to a position just behind him.
He sensed her there but did not turn around.
"Yes, it can be a lonely business for a man too. He gets used to certain things… and suddenly they come to a stop… and he has to… adjust. It's very… difficult."
She placed her hands on his neck and began to massage it.
"How long has it been for you?" she murmured, her lips close to his ear.
"Too long, much too long. Many women can go on… being a wife… up until very late in the pregnancy. It's mostly a matter of mental… willingness. But Angie's had such a tough time… and she hasn't felt like it."
"When that happens, don't you think a man should be able to find a substitute? Something as habit-forming as screwing would sure be hard to give up."
She pressed her tits against him, holding him to her while she continued to massage his neck and shoulders.
He licked his lips, and his voice was weak and low when he spoke.
"But where could a man find a substitute?"
"It would seem to me that it's just being neighborly to provide help for a man in that fix. Don't you think so?"
She stepped away from him then, loosening her halter and slipping it down her white-arms.