by Selena Kitt
"Now what's she doing?"
"She's sucking my cock."
Michelle leaned forward and lollipopped her husband's knob, and Michael sighed softly. She fastened her lips on his glans and tickled the underside of it with her tongue, and Michael shuddered, a bolt of pleasure rushing down his shaft and into his balls. Gasping, he grabbed her head and forced it down on his shaft, and Michelle opened wide, his thick meat sliding moistly across her tongue, the big knob settling comfortably in the back of her throat. She relaxed her muscles, allowing the bulbous glans to slip slowly past her uvula -- she gagged, and relaxed again. She inhaled another two inches, breathing through her nose, loud wet sucking noises filling the bathroom. Michael pulled out with a groan, and then pushed back in, and Michelle grunted happily. Thrilled by pleasing him so completely, she slid her hands up the back of his thighs and cupped his buttocks, slipping a finger into his crack and probing his anus, feeling her husband twitch and shudder from her onslaught. Michelle pulled back slowly, lovingly trailing her tongue along his shaft and leaving the hard rail gleaming with slobbers. Michael lifted his erection, and she licked his scrotum, opening her mouth and enveloping one hot hard testicle, and then the other. She smelled his manly odor and tasted his wonderful masculine essence. She pushed her finger deeper, the soft insides of his bowels burning her flesh, and he jumped.
"Ohhhhh, baby," he hissed.
"Is she sucking you as good as me?"
"That remains to be seen."
"Asshole."
She abruptly sank her finger deep as punishment, pressing his prostate, and Michael inhaled sharply. Indescribable pleasure and pain speared through his guts and his cock hardened to the point of agony.
"Fuck yeah!" he shouted.
"You like that, you filthy manwhore?"
"Fuck yeah!"
Michelle face-fucked his cock and punished his anus with her finger. Michael began trembling, gently at first and then spasming reflexively. His cock and balls burned, filled with blood and semen. His trickles of pre-cum became a stream, and Michelle smacked joyously, bobbing her head methodically, her lips slurping and her mouth drooling spit. Michael felt his orgasm building rapidly as he pictured the big redheaded strumpet who lived next-door servicing him like a Detroit hooker in a trash-filled alley. A searing hot rod of deliriousness impaled his groin, boiling sperm up from his balls.
"I'm cuuummingg!" he howled.
Grunting appreciatively, Michelle inhaled his meat, felt his shaft convulse, and then the first thick ropy projectile struck the back of her throat with a velocity that still thrilled and mystified her after all these years. She gagged, his cock spurting again. She swirled his plentiful seed in her mouth, enjoying its taste for a second, swallowed, and then pulled back, aiming his knob at her face and furiously jacking the bucking pole, watching three more large streams burst forth from his flexing knobslit, sail through the space between them, and splooge gooily on her cheeks and forehead. She quickly enveloped his knob again and sucked it feverishly as Michael groaned aloud, over and over again.
"Jeee-zuuss," he hissed, finally pushing her away. "No more."
Michelle leaned back against the toilet tank and stared at the dripping puddle of manhood that trembled before her, feeling a woman's satisfied pride with her oral capabilities. A runner of semen dangled slickly from the corner of her mouth, and she snagged the milky wad with a fingertip and licked.
"Wow," she said, and chuckled. "You really do want a piece of her ass."
"It might be fun."
"Honey, that woman will tear a hole in your crotch big enough to fill a dump truck."
"Yours, too, probably."
She looked at him and smiled. "That might be fun."
Michael warmed a washcloth in the sink, and then handed it to his wife. He watched her wipe her face, sitting on the toilet with her dress billowing around her, looking prim and proper and ready for a business meeting, and his love for her welled in his heart until he thought it might burst.
"You are something," he said softly, touching her cheek.
"I love you, too," she said. "But you're far from being done."
Michael groaned. "You're gonna have to give me a minute to recover."
"You old fart," Michelle said, and smiled. "You won't have to be hard for what I got in mind."
She kicked her panties off her ankles and stood up, still tasting his seed in her mouth. Wordlessly, she took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom. Pleasing him so well had aroused her intently, and her heart beat hard and her pussy dribbled. She pushed him down on the bed and threw a leg across his chest, rubbing her baldness on his rigid pecs and murmuring with contentment, her skirt flowing across him. Michael couldn't see how wet she really was, but he could feel it, and he nodded judiciously, staring up into her eyes. Her face glowed with sheen of perspiration as she brazenly humped her crotch and stared back at him, lips parted sensuously.
"Oooooooo," she crooned softly.
"Get up here," he said firmly.
Michelle slithered forward, leaving a trail of ooze on his flesh like a snail. She lifted her pelvis slightly, draped her dress over his head, and Michael was suddenly wrapped in a veil of warmth and dimness. Michelle stopped with her pussy just inches from his mouth, and he stared up into the glistening portal, her labia gleaming succulently like the meat of a peach, smelling sweat and musk and just a trace of perfume. He listened as she moaned softly with anticipation and grasped the headboard behind him, and his exhausted cock twitched painfully.
"Are you ready, my cunt-munching slavewhore?" Michelle's voice was husky with lust.
"Let me please you, my queen." Michael's voice was strained with mounting excitement.
"I will punish you if you don't," she whispered.
Michelle gripped the headboard for leverage and dropped her dripping beaver on her husband's waiting face, squealing as his greedy mouth applied itself and he sank his tongue deep. Still squealing, she ground her pussy firmly against his nose and spurted. Michael grunted, savagely grasping her asscheeks and swallowing. Her juices were wondrous, so salty and warm. He buried his nose into her cunt, slurping and smacking like a dog drinking water as Michelle writhed against him, crying out. He dragged his tongue up and down the length of her slit, tasking her labia, probing her clitty. Michelle gasped, his manipulations sending jolting bolts of pleasure down her thighs and up into her tummy. She ground her snatch lewdly, forcing his tongue deeper, and spurted again.
"Oooooo Miiiichael," Michelle yowled. "Eat me, eat me, eeeeat meeee!"
Emboldened by her dirty talk, Michael tasked his wife's cunt fiercely, overwhelmed with the pleasure he was giving her. Michelle's pussy was a lubricious fuckpit of sucking ferocity, squelching and dribbling. The bedsprings squeaked and the headboard rocked as she fucked his face with a crazed frenzy that always drove him out of his mind. Michelle felt her orgasm rushing toward her ominously, molten fire engulfing her loins. Michael slipped a finger into her slit, and then another, and Michelle inhaled sharply. He probed her engorged clitty with his tongue and his fingers, and Michelle's inner depths gushed powerfully into his open mouth as her body convulsed and she threw back her head and wailed deliriously into the afternoon sunlight, breaking three nails clutching the headboard, her bottom quivering and her brain bursting.
Michael's mind whirled as he gasped for breath, feeling a tremendous surge of pleasure clutch his heart as Michelle climaxed like some unchained beast in the forest primeval. He tasked her nub relentlessly, and she exploded again, her thighs riding the side of his head like a marathon runner. He clutched her wonderfully firm bottom and held on tight, her pussy flooding his face, her burning effluence streaming into the hollow of his neck, where it pooled momentarily before soaking the sheets. He sank his nose deeply into her cunt, and she climaxed a third time, wantonly humping her crotch and shouting with joy.
"Oh God, baby, stop!" Michelle begged. "Please, I can't take anymore!"
Michael ceased beca
use he could no longer breathe. He released her hips and Michelle rolled aside, gasping for breath, muscles shuddering and quaking. Michael stared upwards, his face sopping-wet, his hair smeared back and stinking, and a wave of emotion for the woman he had married filled him to his core. He rolled over and cradled her against him, murmuring lovingly against her neck. He rubbed his now swollen cock against her thigh, ensuring she could feel it.
"Oh, God, Michael," she said breathlessly, staring at the ceiling. "My poor coochie's spent."
Michael chuckled salaciously. "You won't need that for what I got in mind, my queen."
Bonnie And Michael
The following morning, Bonnie carried her fishing pole and a pail of minnows through the yard toward the bluff that overlooked the river. The weather was beautiful, the sky unblemished. The air was still cool from the previous night, but that wouldn't last for long, and she hoped to catch a catfish or two for dinner before the sun rose high, and its suffocating heat shut down the angling for the day.
She stood on the bluff and looked down at the gently flowing water about thirty feet below. Living above the river definitely had its advantages, she thought. When the levels rose during spring rains, she didn't have to worry about flooding the way most of the other river dwellers did. Her husband had installed a composite stairway that switch-backed down the incline, ending up at a floating dock strung between permanent pylons driven deep into the sandy bottom. She started down the stairway, taking her time and enjoying the freshness of the summer morning. Birds called to each other in the trees, breaking the silence, and a bullfrog croaked throatily in a nearby stand of cattails.
Bonnie couldn't help thinking about Michael. Something had happened between them in the kitchen, she was certain of it, but he had withdrawn. Maybe he was still trying to work up the courage to be with her because yesterday certainly would have qualified as the right time and place. She hoped Michael hadn't mentioned anything to Michelle about the advances he'd been forced to ward off. Knowing her husband was in the crosshairs of a desperately horny housewife might cause Michelle to keep Michael on a tight rein, and that could ruin everything.
Bonnie reached the landing and stepped onto the dock, feeling the current flowing gently beneath her feet and rippling softly around her. The water's faint musty odor caressed her nostrils. The sounds and smells soothed her troubled heart as she readied her pole with a weighted jig, stabbing the hook through a minnow. She made sure the barb was exposed, and then made her first cast of the morning, dropping the jig expertly into a swirling hole at the base of some fallen trees. It was a spot that had produced for her in the past and she figured it would do so now. She sat down on the dock, dangled her feet in the water, and began the waiting game.
Her thoughts returned to yesterday, and she shuddered with both shame and excitement. She'd returned to pruning her burning bush after masturbating, and had seen Michelle return home. It hadn't been more than twenty minutes when Bonnie heard her cries of passion drifting through their bedroom window. The bedroom faced the yard where she was working, and even though the window was shut, the wails of lust were salaciously clear.
Unable to help herself, Bonnie snuck across the yard and peeked in the window, feeling utterly depraved when she saw Michelle sitting on Michael's face, her dress fanned out above him. She couldn't see what he was doing, but judging from Michelle's excited reactions, he was doing it quite well. She'd watched Michelle writhe and twist, and Michael's glistening cock slowly harden to its full and mighty length, and the sight of that wonderfully engorged organ had so inflamed her that she orgasmed reflexively right then and there, biting down on her lip hard enough to draw blood as she smothered a cry with her hands and felt the dirtiness of her voyeurism saturating her panties. He had then rolled Michelle onto her hands and knees, rucked her dress above her hips and pushed his throbbing member deeply into her upturned ass. Michelle's libidinous scream of pleasure filled Bonnie's ears, and it was all Bonnie could do to keep from screaming herself as she watched the long, hard tool disappearing slowly and steadily between Michelle's quivering cheeks. Bonnie had always thought of anal sex as naughty and demeaning, and had no desire to experience it, and was surprised to see a usually demure Michelle enjoying it so. She shivered, thinking about that now, and shifted her bottom on the dock, her pussy growing damp. Her face felt flushed, and the muscles in her thighs twitched. God, she wanted Michael so badly it was becoming an obsession.
"Well, hey there," Michael called.
Bonnie wrenched her head to the right, adrenaline shooting through her limbs and her heart rate surging. He was standing on his own dock, about forty feet away, dressed in swim trunks, obviously preparing to jump in. He nodded to her, and then smiled and waved. Having him suddenly appear while she had been so blatantly fantasizing about him unnerved her completely, but she tried not to show it as she struggled to find her voice.
"Are they biting?" Michael said, turning to face her.
His trunks weren't tight, but they still revealed his bulge, and Bonnie's heart continued to pound, remembering what that gorgeous phallus had looked like yesterday thrusting in and out of Michelle's willing rectum. She cleared her throat, regaining her composure.
"I just got started."
"What're you fishing for?"
"Cats."
He looked surprised. "You're kidding, right?"
Bonnie couldn't help but smile. "Catfish silly."
"I've never done much fishing," he admitted, and she was delighted when he blushed.
"C'mon over and learn something."
"Okay," he replied immediately, and dove in.
He swam easily against the gentle current, standing up in the shallows when he reached her. The wet suit clung to him, displaying his wonderful package with loving detail, and Bonnie stared boldly, growing wetter. He grabbed the edge of the dock and swung himself up, sitting beside her with his bare thigh touching hers. Bonnie's heart hammered with the contact, and her nipples hardened visibly against her white t-shirt. He offered her a frank, inquisitive stare, and then touched her lip.
"What happened here?"
Bonnie was caught flat-footed by the gesture, wondering if Michael was teasing her again, and she struggled to remain coherent.
"I bit it."
"You shouldn't eat so fast." He nodded at her pole. "So, what's to it?"
It had been a few minutes since she'd checked her bait, and she reeled in the line. The minnow was still on the hook.
"Catfish like those?" he said.
"They'll eat most anything. I've even heard of some people using Ivory soap."
"No way. Soap?"
She nodded. "I've never tried it myself." She adjusted the minnow and cast the jig back to the hole.
"I like fried catfish at a restaurant," Michael said.
Bonnie grimaced. "Restaurants usually deep-fry them in grease. Pan-fried is best, with a little flour and butter. The flavor and texture are wonderful."
"You'll have to show Michelle how to cook them. She'd like that."
"You have to catch them first."
Bonnie's heart continued pulsing as her eyes alternated between Michael's face and his crotch. She swore his bulge seemed bigger, now, and it was all she could do to keep from touching it.
"Well," she said. "If we don't catch anything this morning, I have fillets I froze from a couple weeks ago. Why don't you guys come over tonight? We'll fry us some fish."
Michael nodded. "I'll have to check. But I don't think we have anything going on."
The current had dragged the jig out of the hole. Bonnie reeled in the line, checked the bait, and recast. Michael watched it drop into the hole with a soft plop.
"Why there?"
"Catfish like those quiet breaks around structure. When something good swims by, they dash out and attack it."
Michael nodded. "Like this?"
He held the back of Bonnie's head, leaned forward, and kissed her tenderly on the lips. He held her face in his han
ds for a moment, and then pulled back, regarding her expectantly. Bonnie was completely stunned, and had no idea how to respond. She felt hot blood rush into her cheeks as her heart palpitated painfully. She almost swooned when he took her hand and placed it on his crotch.
Oh God, she thought dazedly, her heart threatening to leap right out of her chest and run away with her as she felt his penis stir beneath her palm. Oh God!
She struggled to find words, but he shook his head and pressed a finger to her lips.
"Shhhh," he said.
He kissed her again, this time gently parting her lips with his tongue and searching for hers. Reflexively, she met it and explored tentatively. His mouth tasted clean and minty, as if he had just brushed his teeth, and she hoped her mouth tasted as good to him after consuming her morning coffee. His penis swelled further, and this time she rubbed it softly, and he moaned against her lips.