by Jason Lenov
As Laura knelt down in front of her husband, Arnold Masters put down his drink and yanked his on his shorts as he stuffed one fat paw down them.
When I saw him fish out his cock it felt like the bottom had dropped out of my stomach. The thing was probably eight inches long still flaccid and as thick as a coke can. I even stopped wacking off, it was that much of a shock. With my heart racing, I watched through the window as Laura wrapped her slender fingers around the piece of meat and let her hand glide up and down its length.
Mr. Masters settled back in his chair. I was stunned at the way he was behaving. Here was a guy who had a fucking knock-out wife who waited at the door for him and made him cocktails when he got home from the lonely, open road and it looked like he was just going to let her service him like she was some kind of whore!
He got comfortable, put his arms on the arm rests and watched as Laura started doing her thing on his growing muscle.
I swallowed hard as I watched her cheeks hollow the same way the had when she'd sucked the cum out of my dick. I couldn't hear anything but I could only imagine the sloppy wet sounds she was making as she worked his cock with her mouth and tongue. There was slick drool running down his shaft, glistening in the sunlight as she lathered him up.
I was mesmerized. Every time she popped off his cock it would sway a little in her hand. She'd wipe her mouth look up into his eyes and sink back down holding his gaze. She obviously knew this was something he liked and was doing this to please him which should have been just fine, right? She was his wife and not my girlfriend, after all.
But there was something so incredibly...I don't know, filthy about the way she was doing it. She was hauling on that cock with her mouth and rubbing the base with her hand while the fingers of her other hand tickled his nuts. It looked like she knew exactly what to do to get him off as efficiently as she could and was doing all the right things. She seemed so matter-of-fact about it, too.
So after probably five or so minutes of watching this, I realized that my own cock was stiff as a board in my hand. I started rubbing myself again and almost immediately felt the pressure of an orgasm between my legs. I stopped, hoping that maybe I could use this as an exercise, to train myself how to last longer for Laura.
But just as I'd stopped rubbing and felt the pressure wane, I saw her eyes pop open a little wider. She looked up at him but didn't come off his cock. She kept pumping him with her hand and bobbing up and down with her head, the whole time staring at him with her bright blue eyes.
I saw her cheeks bulge and it looked like she'd just had a gag reflex or something. I realized Mr. Masters was dumping a load into her mouth.
His body stiffened and he leaned forward a little, just enough to put his fat paw on the back of her head and keep her face on his dick. The faint sound of his groan vibrated through the two panels of glass in the window and he pressed her head just a little lower.
This was incredibly disturbing and incredibly hot, watching him treat her like this. I could clearly see each pulse of cum come shooting out of his cock by the expression on her face. She was doing her best to swallow but with that fat of a cock there had to be at least twice as much cum as I had.
A spurt of thick, creamy spunk came oozing out from between her lips and his dick. It ran down his shaft, onto her fingers and down onto his hairy balls.
Like a real slut, she just kept bobbing and sucking, bobbing and sucking until he took his hand away from the back of her head, put a finger on her chin and lifted her off.
She came off gasping for air, his cock already a little softer in her hand. She didn't stand up, though. Or hand him a towel or use his shorts the way she'd used my shirt.
Nope.
She got right back down on that cock, licking up all the cum that was still spilling out of it and swallowing it down, staring into his eyes the whole time. She licked it off her fingers. She licked it off the head of his cock and the side of his shaft. She even got in between his legs and sucked on his hairy balls until they were clean, too.
When she was all done she licked her lips, looked at him with a smile and even though I couldn't hear what she said I knew what it was. "All done baby?"
In that moment I felt the most powerful and arousing jealousy I'd ever felt in my life. There was no reason for it! She wasn't my wife or girlfriend, just a woman I'd slept with and yet watching her do that to another man had awakened something inside of me that I didn't understand yet and couldn't really describe.
I saw Arnold Masters nod towards the house, like he was telling her to go get cleaned up or something. And like a dutiful wife, she stood up, grabbed her bikini top off the ground and skipped over to the house and out of view.
I sat there shaken to the core, playing out what had happened over and over and over again in my mind until I saw her walk back out again and lie down on the deck chair next to her husband.
It took about ten seconds for me to stroke one out, then I shuffled back to my own room, drew the blinds and spent the rest of the day trying to pick apart the agonizing arousal that had me in its grip.
Chapter 7
Mr. Masters spent two days at home with his wife. I knew this because I became an obsessed pervert-voyeur who would regularly leer at them sunning themselves in the backyard from the guest bedroom window.
There was no more sexual activity outdoors but any time they went inside my mind would get very busy dreaming up all sorts of sordid details of what they were doing.
In my mind's eye, I saw Arnold Masters take his wife in positions that even the most seasoned porn stars would not attempt. In my imagination she regularly gave him her ass hole to fuck with his thick cola-can of a cock. Each time I would imagine this I would get particularly turned on. I'd never had anal sex with a woman before. It just hadn't been very high on my agenda and most of the girls that I'd dated would never go for anything like that anyway.
But I knew Laura Masters was different. I knew just from the way she'd casually seduced me and the way she'd blown her husband in the backyard without a second thought, that she was a particularly nasty, filthy type of woman. An experienced woman who knew what men wanted and wasn't scared to do what it took to deliver. She was the kind of woman that didn't need to act like a good girl anymore and if she did, it was only for fun.
Two days later I watched out the window as Mr. Masters, dressed in his road warrior shirt and tie, carried boxes and boxes of pharmaceutical samples out to the trunk of his car.
My heart leapt as I saw Laura come out and watch him, chatting with him and smiling. Had she been thinking of me? Had she thought about me at all in this whole time he'd been home? Had it crossed her mind that maybe I had seen what she did to him in the backyard? Surely she realized that if she could see the window, whoever was watching from the window could see her?
It was torture standing there and watching and waiting for him to finish packing his car. He seemed so slow about it and who could blame him? All those long hours on the road when he had a wife at home that would blow him like that over a cocktail in the middle of the day? Fuck. I don't think I'd ever go to work.
When he finally got into the car and backed out of the driveway, I saw Laura wave and smile. He honked the horn a few times, waved back, then drove down to the stop sign and turned right towards the road that led to the highway.
I did my best to wait five minutes before busting out the front door and dashing over to their house. I rang the doorbell and tried to control my breathing while I waited for Laura to come answer the door.
She opened the door wearing the same white dress with a red belt I'd seen her in before. She looked a little confused at first, then surprised to see me. Then, the curious smile that had sprung across her lips melted into something of a more lascivious grin. She folded her arms across her chest and turned her foot out to one side. "Samuel Jones," she said.
"Hey," I answered, still a little breathless. I realized I'd just laid all of my cards out on the table but I didn't car
e. I realized that she could obviously tell that I wanted her, that I'd missed her and thought about her while her husband was home but I didn't care. "I was just..."
Just what, Sam?
It only occurred to me then that maybe I should have prepared a reason for my visit that way maybe I wouldn't have looked quite so desperate.
I'm assuming it was the fact that I had nothing to say made Laura smile. She let me stew in the awkwardness on my side of the door for a few moments before stepping to one side. "You want to come in?" she asked, mercifully.
"Uh yeah. Sure. That'd be great." I walked in wringing my hands and hoping that being with her husband for a few days hadn't changed her desire for my young cock. "How was Mr. Masters?" I asked, trying to be polite.
"That's a funny question," she said, walking past me and towards the kitchen.
I followed her through and watched her pull a couple of beers from the fridge. She walked over, handed one to me, then cracked the cap off the other and threw it on the counter.
"Is it?" I asked.
"Sort of," she replied. She took a swig of beer then set the bottle down on the counter, too. "What have you been doing over there?" she asked.
"Oh, just, this and that. I was...cleaning some stuff up in the basement and watering the plants." This made me realize that I hadn't, in fact, watered the plants at all. I made a mental note to try and remember to do that as soon as I got home later.
"Hmm," Laura said, eyeing me like she didn't completely believe what I was telling her. "I guess you saw him leaving?"
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I saw him packing his stuff up and then I saw him drive off so I thought, you know, I thought maybe you'd be lonely or...need some more help with some moving things, or...you know, stuff like that."
Laura's smile got a little crooked and she shook her head. "What'd you really do over there, Sammy?" she asked.
I swallowed. It sounded loud inside my head and I wondered if it sounded loud to her, too. "What do you mean? I just...I was just hanging out." I even forced an awkward chuckle, which probably made what I'd said sound even more unbelievable.
She bit her lip and nodded, studying me the whole time. "You came over here pretty fast."
"Huh? What?" My heart was pounding even faster now. She was going to confront me, I knew it then. She was going to ask why I'd come over so fast and what the hell was I going to say?!?
"Made yourself wait five minutes? After he left?" she asked, taking another sip of her beer.
I laughed nervously again. "What? What do you mean?"
She sighed and her expression became serious. "You were over there thinking about me for the last two days, weren't you Sammy?"
A bulge grew in my throat and I swallowed again to try and loosen it up. My face felt hot and my head was starting to spin and all I wanted to do was take Laura Masters upstairs, throw her down on the bed and fuck her pussy. Hard.
"Oh shit," she muttered, then slammed her beer down on the counter and turned around.
"Wait, what? What?!?" I asked. I had no idea what was going on! What had I done? What had I done to make her angry? "Laura, I..."
She spun around, her expression stern and hard. "Sammy, I'm sorry. I thought...I thought, you know, a young college boy like you, good-looking stud, wouldn't mind getting a little something and just leaving it at that. I...I shouldn't have...I didn't mean for you to..."
I almost asked, "to what?" But there was no need. We both knew what she meant. To get all serious about this. I put on my calmest expression. "Look, Laura," I said, "it's nothing like that. Really. You're just...you're fucking hot. I came over...because, you know...I thought we could fuck."
I did a pretty good job, I thought. It sounded cool. Casual. Like I really didn't give a fuck. Like all I really cared about was getting my dick wet.
She narrowed her blue eyes and stared at me for a while, trying to gauge whether it was an act.
I stood there trying to act natural, but actually terrified that she was going to send me home, that she was going to say she wasn't in the mood or that she didn't want me getting too attached or something, anything that would keep me from feeling my cock in her sweet pussy.
It turned out my little performance had gone alright.
"That really it?" she whispered.
I just shrugged. Like I didn't give a single fuck.
She sighed, partly relieved, partly...was it annoyed? Bored? She slammed the last of her beer, turned around and walked into the living room.
Not sure what I should do, I followed her in after a few moments. My cock hardened at the sight of her sitting on the couch, legs spread wide, her soft pussy welcoming me inside.
Chapter 8
I fell to my knees, my cock already stiffening as I stared at the rippled lines of her pussy lips, parted slightly to expose the dark hole that led to her womb. I crawled towards her and moved my head between her parted thighs, the soft scent of her sex making my cock lurch again.
I'd thought about this so many times over the last few days, what it would be like to suck on her pussy lips again, to taste the sweet sticky juice that came from them. I looked up to see her studying me again, a shadow of concern across her brow.
I didn't want to deal with it right then. All I wanted was to taste the space between her legs. I wanted to feel her body buck beneath my mouth as I made her come. I leaned forward and was just about to press my lips to her sweet snatch when she put her fingers on my shoulder and pushed me back.
"Sammy..." she said, then halted, as if at a loss for words.
I didn't say anything back. I just knelt there letting her think about it for a while.
"I just...I just don't want this to get...you know, complicated," she said quietly.
I didn't have a good response to that. To me it was already complicated. It was beyond complicated, it was fucked. Maybe it wasn't love but all I could think about was her. All the time. She was in my dreams and fucking everywhere in my mind, all the time. I wasn't about to admit that then, though.
Instead, I lifted her fingers from my shoulder and pressed forward. My lips touched her soft cunt and I thrust my tongue out, plunging it into her hole and making her groan.
Her salty liquid spewed out. I let it coat my tongue until there was enough of it to swallow. I'd never craved the taste of any woman like I craved the taste of her.
With my dick getting harder, I swept up and down her slit, gliding along her soft, rippled folds, alternating teasing her clit and pushing gently into her hole.
She let me do this for a while but, just like the first time, after a while she couldn't take it any longer. She grabbed hold of my hair with both hands and just started to rub my face against herself, using my mouth like a wet sex toy to find her own pleasure.
I'd never been used by anyone like that before and the more she did it, the more I loved it. I kept my tongue out and stiff letting her fuck herself with it or mash it against her clit as she tried to find what would make her come best.
A few minutes later I felt the first shudder of her thighs and heard her moan above me as she started to climax.
She smashed my face harder against her cunt as her pussy started to pulse with hot juice. It drooled out of her and onto the couch and down my neck and had me so hard that I thought my dick was going to fall off again.
Finally she screamed, a sound that could break glass, and I felt the most intense part of her orgasm lock her body stiff before releasing her into another frenzy of rubbing my mouth along her slick and swollen slit.
When her hands finally fell to her sides, her body exhausted from pleasure, I scrambled up, yanked my shorts down and my cock came springing out, the head red and swollen with ache.
I crawled up on the couch between her legs, pointed my cock at her pussy and drove myself inside.
She let out a low grunt as my hardness stretched her soft walls. She was soaked from me eating her out and I slid into her easily and pretty soon my balls were slapping against her soft ass
.
She was sort of folded on the couch so that she had a clear view of her own pussy.
I put my hands on both her thighs and started drilling my cock into her, desperate to finally release by something other than my own hand.
Laura just stared at me going inside her.
The questions came.
What was she thinking about? Was she thinking about me? Was I enough for her? Was my cock big enough? Her husband's was probably as thick as her forearm, of course I wasn't big enough! Was that why she was barely reacting to what I was doing?
The problem with this was not that it made me any less interested in sex. Pretty much the opposite. For some reason thinking that maybe she was thinking about Arnold's cock, remembering what it was like to be filled by it, made me even hornier.
I hardened inside her even as I slowed my thrusting, trying to stretch my timing out a bit.
"Oh no! Don't slow down! That was good!" she said. She reached down and touched the tips of two fingers to her clit and started to rub.
Good! It was good! I was doing good! Maybe she was thinking about me, about my cock inside of her. Maybe she wasn't thinking about Mr. Masters at all!
The image of her mouth filled with his girthy meat drifted into my mind. I remembered the way she'd gagged on his spunk when he'd creamed inside her mouth. It was all too much. Too fucking much.
"I'm almost there," she said, breathless and tense.
Please just a few more seconds.
I couldn't. I felt myself start to come. "Oh fuck!" I shouted, yanking my cock out of the depths of her pussy and grabbing it with my hand. I started pumping, my hard meat retching thick streaks of creamy cum, like icing on a pink cake.
Laura deflated for a moment when I'd pulled out but then redoubled the effort with her fingers and started flicking her clit hard.
I stared down at the closing hole of her pussy as I spewed and watched it start to come.
It clenched and clamped, hungry for something to squeeze as she screamed on the couch beneath me. My whole body wanted nothing more than to dive back into her soft pinkness with my cock and fuck the rest of my orgasm out but I knew how dangerous that was. So instead I satisfied myself with watching the cum pile up on her soft folds as her pussy squeezed around something that wasn't there.
