Roger Grayson - The friendly couples

Her cries excited him even further. He was no longer in complete control. His friend, Greg's wife, underneath him was all that he expected and more. Her desires were so hot, so urgent, that he was compelled by his own impatience to meet them. "Yes, now," he said and guided his massive cock up between her wide-spread legs and against the small, tight opening of her cunt. He probed for a moment, teasing the soft, hair-lined lips and feeling the wet, raw flesh beneath it open wider.

He lowered himself upon her. "Oooooooooooh, oooooooooh!" she cried as she felt the hot, huge head slip wetly inside her, worming slowly into her yearning passage and filling her with all the hardened flesh she could stand.

Outside the car it was pitch-black above the city lights below, but inside the white convertible bright flashes of white and blue lights electrified the air. Janet's lust-incited senses completely controlled her as her husband's best friend thrust his cock deeper and deeper up into her heaving belly. She thrashed her head from side to side. "Oh more, more!" she cried aloud, locking her legs open wider to take him as deep as she could.

Martin was surprised at her fury and her lust-abandoned moans excited him further. He stopped for a moment, his great prick sunk inside her to the hilt, his balls brushing lightly against the soft, rounded moons of her ass. She thrashed her head from side to side, her mouth open, tears of wild, erotic pleasure in her eyes. She was full, complete!

She was a woman again!

Then the blood-filled muscle inside her began to stroke slowly in and out between her legs, a few inches at first. Out for an inch or two, then slipping wetly back inside again as Martin took control of himself. He wanted this to last; he wanted Greg's wife to remember this so she'd have no bitches later. Janet groaned as she felt the movement caressing the smooth, wet walls of her pussy. She lifted her knees higher and braced the bottom of her feet against the roof of the car. Her buttocks strained up off the seat, her throbbing vagina reaching hungrily up for the white hot rod of flesh as it began to increase its pitch. In perfect control, Martin guided his straining cock with hard, merciless precision, lengthening each stroke a fraction of an inch more with each grinding thrust. Greg's wife groaning beneath him, settled into the rhythm, meeting his driving pelvis with her own, her wet, contracting cunt tormented beyond her wildest dreams.

Her insides were about to burst. With each stroke the brilliant strobe-like flashes in her mind intensified. She thrust upward, harder and harder, trying to fill herself completely with him. Never had such a great cock fucked her, never had she known such excitement.

She dug her nails into his buttocks. Her lover's hands grasped at her flesh, nearly pulling it from her. The pain of his strong grip heightened her pleasure. Every measured inch of her body was on fire with dancing electric shocks snaking their way at the speed of light through her body, throwing her into a nether world, beyond the reality of the world outside, concentrating her entire being on the fucking she was getting.

Her buttocks began to tighten spastically. The muscles grasped at the cock driving into her and flexed desperately around it. Her anus puckered again and again, and she tried to hold back for a moment longer, making the seconds last. Even in her wild, untamed fury everything was slow motion. Each second seemed like a minute. The muscles in her belly responded to the call of her clasping buttocks and warning anus. The time was coming!

A great wave welled up inside her. The first convulsion was slow in coming. It started lazily, far down in the depths of her quivering belly and rolled downward like the sea with increasing power until it hit the bottom of her grinding pelvis at her opening, crashing against her just as Martin's pelvic bone crushed into her.

The next came faster, snapping like a whip. She screamed, "Aaarrrggghhhh! Now! God, I'm cummming now, oh, oh, I'm cummmmmmiiiiinnnnng! Aaarrgghh!!"

She jerked up as her entire being seemed to snap. Again and again the waves of orgasm crashed against the cliffs of her soul as she rebounded with them, jerking upward again and again. Her orgasmic juices filled her desperately sucking vaginal passage, lubricating it more and more.

Her flowing juices halfway through her climax brought Martin to his end. Like a giant Kodiak bear he rose up, throwing his head in circles to the side. "Aaaarrrrgggghhhhhh!" he roared like an animal about to attack. The pressure in his balls burst as the hot fluids erupted out through his straining tubes and spurted from his reddened cock deep into her open cunt.

She was still cumming when she felt his juices hotly filling her belly, adding more wood to the fire. "Oh. OOOOooh, perfect, oooooh!" she cried out, her head rolling helplessly from side to side on the squeaking car seat.

Completely spent, Martin fell on top of her. She was crushed by his weight. Her eyes were closed, but her attention was still focused on the furnace within her. They had finished, her legs dropping limply to her sides. The moment of remembrance, of savoring the entire act now occupied her.

She lay still, thinking of the pleasure she had experienced. Martin breathed heavily by her ear. But, also with the end of the climax had come the end of the aphrodisiac's effect and Janet's dazed mind began to focus on what she had done. It felt so good, yet it was so wrong, she thought through the rising guilt. Oh God, what am I going to do? I can't tell Greg, yet I don't know what to say to Martin. It was my fault, she thought, unaware that she had been drugged. All my fault!

"We had better go," Martin said as he lifted himself from between her thighs. He handed her the white panties, still moist with the fluids of her earlier excitement and she said nothing as she dressed in the car. Small tears began to fill her eyes. She didn't want to hurt this man. He was so kind and yet the guilt and shame of her betrayal of her husband lay heavily within her.

Neither said anything as they drove toward her home. She decided that Martin might be thinking exactly what she was thinking, that it was a mistake, something that would not have happened if they had not been drunk. He would understand, of course, he would. After all, he had understood everything else when they had talked before. But, she vowed to herself, it also was something that would never ever happen again as long as she lived!

The white convertible turned into the alleyway that led to the Richards' suburban home. Martin turned off the lights as he guided the sleek '68 model car along the narrow roadway until they were behind her house. She lay half lifeless on the seat beside him.

Her tears had dried streaks of mascara on her cheeks. She had cried for most of the ride until finally no more tears would come. No matter what had been going wrong between she and Greg, it was no reason for infidelity. Her mind was made up. She would tell Martin that the mistake would not happen again. She would not tell Greg, and beg, if she had to, for Martin not to disclose what had happened. With this new understanding, perhaps both the Kelly's and the Richards could work out their marital problems. She had no fear. Firm in her convictions, she felt like Joan of Arc, ready to do battle for what she believed was right. There was no other course.

"Wake up," Martin told her. He was unaware that she only feigned sleep. "You're home now. Wake up, Janet."

She turned and shook her head as if to thrust the sleep from her foggy mind. Rather than talk on the drive home, she had pretended to pass out. It saved unnecessary talking and had given her the time she needed to think.

"I'm awake, Martin," she said as he got out of the car and walked to the other side to let her out. "You don't have to walk me to the door. I'm fine. Besides, there is something I want to tell you now. If we can get this straight, then there will be no problems."