Carl Van Marcus - Lady Disk jockey

Damn, she was hot for it! He’d never dreamed . . . but Stan knew this was the time to press!

His hand moved up to cup and squeeze her lushly upthrust breast under the thin fabric of Sally Sue’s dress.

“Nooooo . . ." she groaned, but her writhing only increased as the fire began to burn deep in her loins. And then the hand moved lower, over the smooth swell of her hips and between her flexing legs, up the sensitive flesh of her sleek inner thighs and finally teasing fingers were sliding under the lace, of her panties and caressing her sensitive cunt lips and pinching her rising clitoris, Sally Sue felt the weight of him pressing her down, the rigidity of his penis against her quaking belly and with part of her mind determined to fight her carnal desires. She knew she would lose the fight . . . she wanted to lose. .. but had to preserve some of her own image in her mind.

Yet the beautiful long-legged woman knew she wasn’t fooling anybody. She yearned for a man, and now a man was holding her tight and his maleness was unmistakable! And so was the desire she was showing in tenderly kissing him and sucking his tongue deep down her throat, biting his lips as she squirmed and pressed her long-denied body closer and closer to his, grinding her pubic mound against the hot bulge of his crotch. She could hear the panting of her own breath through her flaring nostrils as she wrenched her mouth away and gasped, “Oh, God! Stan . .

“Where’s the bedroom?” he said. “This zoo of yours makes a man nervous.”

He slid the second finger of his right hand into the already wetly heated depths of her fevered young cunt and with his thumb massaged her clitoris while Sally Sue lay in his arms, clutching him tightly.

“I’ll show you,” she managed to mumble through passion-swollen lips. Tears welled from her eyes as she slipped from under his urgent maleness and said, “Stan, I’m really not like this . . . really not. . . but I need . . .

“Everybody needs,” he said.

“Please . . . be slow. . . I’m . . . I’m scared! ” Sally Sue sobbed. “Not of you . . . of me! ”

“I heard you had a bummer marriage . . . but you bounced back,” the tawny-haired young man said. “If you’re hung up, this is the only way to cure it.” Firmly he shut the door of the bedroom he didn’t want huge dog and rare cat attacking him while he was getting laid. He didn’t want anything interrupting this! He’d almost had a perpetual hard-on since he’d first seen Sally Sue and now, without expecting it, he was going to get his cock in her!

She looked like she’d be a beautiful fuck, but something had to be wrong somewhere, or why would her old man have dumped something so prime, even for money? Jesus, she was beautiful! Huge firm tits, an hourglass waist, and the perfect ass and legs below! At the moment, he didn’t care if she was frigid as an ice cube — which she sure didn’t seem to be from the way she kissed and her quivering little cunt was so juicy when he slid his outstanding middle finger to the hilt in the warmth of her grinding body. He thought for a minute about pushing her to take it in her mouth first and decided against it. Sally Sue was so obviously nervous. It was all coming through. She had to get fucked first, get relaxed. The second time around, she might eat him, with a little bit of urging. He could see the way the beautiful jet-haired woman was trembling in anticipation as he pushed the lock button on the door. She was standing, breathing hard, her proud breasts rising and falling with undeniable excitement, the nipples sharply outlined against the thin fabric of her microdress. And all this was going to be his! Inside his tight trousers, his penis throbbed with the need for her as he managed to say, “I want to take your dress off. Everything off.”

“Yes . .. you’ll have to . . . I can’t do it,” Sally Sue murmured. “I just don’t do this!”

“But you want to,” the tall sandy-haired young man said.

“Yes,” she responded in a whisper. “Oh God, yes!”

Sally Sue closed her eyes as she felt his arms surround her trembling body. Then there was the soft sound of the zipper of her brief dress being pulled urgently downward, and then it was falling away, sliding down the sleek warm flesh of her body. Exposed wantonly to his gaze, she watched as Stan knelt to unlace the thongs of her boots and pull them off. Then, except for the tiny panties, she was naked. And, instants later, his groping fingers were pulling them away from her taut, quivering ass cheeks, yanking them down almost violently, so that she stumbled and fell across the bed, her slender legs splaying wide an instant before the young man was on top of her, his hardened penis pressing long and hot against her nervously vibrating loins.

Abandoning all her long cherished morals, the passionate divorcee found herself clutching Stan tight and shamelessly wanting to have the smooth rigid hardness of his penis deep up inside her love-starved cunt. She knew she was doing wrong but she couldn’t help it — if her pussy wasn’t filled with cock soon, she thought she would go crazy! She’d commit suicide on the BMW, or manage to drive the old MG into a tree wide open.

Wrong as this was, it was better than taking her own life.

Sally Sue wouldn’t intentionally commit suicide, but she was aware of a subconscious urge and desperately feared she might some day yield to it.

Being also a realist, she knew the problem was within herself. Sally Sue loved life but had been repressed during her formative years, and when finally she married and came to know the joys of her own body, she had been rejected. Dumped! Even now she doubted Stan Oakes felt love for her, even as his hands caressed her burning flesh.

Well, she could pretend.

Sally Sue could lie to herself while she gave her nakedly yearning body to this man who was with her on the bed. In that instant she wished there’d been more wine to wipe out her inhibitions. She wished she could give and take without any reservation at all, as some of the teens did. Through her mind flashed a vision of Terry Claff. He was just a teenager, but somehow she sensed the boy knew a lot more about sex than she did, and she had to be twice his age.

Grow up . . . do what you have to do! Sally Sue Bennett silently ordered herself.

Moaning with desire, she reached down to clutch Stan’s probing penis, as she had that night so long ago with Flash. But this time not with the thought of quenching the man’s desire but. her own passionate urge. And then she realized that in her reverie, her wanton daydream, she’d forgotten that while she was completely naked, the lover she had finally accepted was still dressed! Gulping, she blushed and said, “Take off your clothes!”

“Oh, Christ, you’re beautiful!” he panted. In seconds he shed his clothes and his urgently rigid cock sprang from his body, swinging free, the melon-like testicles swollen with semen below it. “I’m going to fuck you all night!”

“Yes . . .” Sally Sue murmured, unable to take her eyes from the huge cudgel which would in minutes be fulfilling her shamefully carnal needs. She didn’t want Stan Oakes as a person. He was too close to the age Bob had been when he married her, and she sensed that if a real affair developed, he too would hurt her. Sinful as it might be, Sally Sue thought she would rather have a much younger mate, one who hadn’t been around long enough to enslave her. She didn’t want to dominate, but she didn’t think she could endure being broken again. She thought of she young pizza house waiter, Terry. Now, he had the growth of a man and seemed to have a drive inside himself . . . and Sally Sue knew he had eyes for her. He was so young . . .