Robert Sampson - Guide to Oral Adultery

“The one good thing about having the boy, though, was that Andrew couldn't get rid of me so easily. As the mother of his only child, I was something more than a woman he was living with. Yes, after awhile my husband got tired of being pushed around. He talked about divorce a few times, but I always shut him up. No man was going to get rid of me; I got rid of them.

“Andrew was too good a catch to let go. Right now he's making a thousand dollars a week and he's still rising in the company. He may even head it some day. I'd be mad to let him divorce me. If he ever did get serious about the divorce, I would take custody of our son and that is something he couldn't bear. The boy is the only one he has ever loved.

“A few years ago my husband moved into his own room at the house. Before that we had been growing apart slowly so the break didn't come as a surprise. Since we never did have anything like a happy sex life, it really didn't matter if we became two strangers living under the same roof.

“I knew that Andrew would never take up a mistress; he just didn't have the guts or the balls. However, I, as always, was different. With my son out of the house and my husband having as little to do with me as possible, I needed another jerk to push around.

“I met Steven at a company party. He was a loud-mouthed man who liked to think of himself as a lady-killer. He was in his thirties, but he dressed in mod clothes, trying to pass himself off as a kid. He was married to a dowdy woman who was more interested in their children than in him, so I could right away know that he was in the mood for some action. His clothes alone gave him away. Steven was trying to recapture his youth which meant he wasn't very happy being middle-aged. The bastard just had to prove that he was still sexy.

“When we danced, I socked my pussy up against him and pressed my boobies against his chest. I was almost ten years older than he, but I showed him that there was plenty of steam in my engine yet. Steven was quick to realize that I was on the make, and he asked me to step outside. I didn't know what the hell he expected to do on the lawn of the mansion we were in, but I left with him anyhow.

“He took me behind a tree and started feeling my tits. I let him go on just to see how far he would go. Since I was wearing a gown, it would be difficult for me to strip right then and there. This didn't stop the over-aged hippie from trying. He started to pull my zipper down and I told him to stop. 'Not here, stupid,' I said, letting him know what I thought of his actions.

“'Where then?' he wanted to know.

“I gave him my address and told him when my husband would be out… not that it mattered since we all but ignored one another in the house.

“Steven showed up the next day. I was surprised to see him because I thought he had only pawed me last night out of drunkenness. I guess he thought I might have only given him my address for the same reason because he seemed anxious when I opened the door. 'Remember me?' he asked in a pathetic way.

“'How could I ever forget you?' I answered.

“I took Steven to my room. When he could see that my husband had his own bedroom, he assumed he knew all about me. 'He doesn't fuck you anymore, right?' he asked.

“I didn't like the way the bastard grinned. He acted as if he had me by the short hairs. Just because I had all but propositioned him on that dance floor, he thought he owned me. He was going to find out soon enough just what kind of pushover I was.

“We closed the door and took off our clothes. Steven had a stocky body and his prick was already in an uproar. His pig eyes leered at my nakedness. 'You're a lot of woman!' he exclaimed and grabbed my large breasts.

“'Suck them off,' I said, almost as an order.

“He took one of my nipples in his mouth and started sucking. He was the oral type by the way he went at me. I could use that desire.

“Steven pushed me against the bed and mounted my body. Just as he was about to screw me, I rolled over. 'Not that way,' I told him. 'I want a French job.'

“He seemed confused. I could see that he really wanted to start banging, but I wanted him to suffer. I spread my legs and exposed my hairy pussy. 'Go on and get to work,' I snapped.

“He paused for a minute as if he didn't know what to make out of my attitude. Steven had come seeking romance, but here I was giving orders. I told him to start mouthing or go home. He slipped to his knees and pressed his mouth against my slit while I lay on the bed with my feet against the carpet.

“Steven licked my pubic hair and spread the lips of my vagina apart. He lapped inside me with his tongue. I looked down at him kneeling in front of me and laughed. 'You sure are a great lover,' I told him.

“He paused for a second in his mouthings and then continued. I now had him by the short hairs! If he continued to love me after that snide remark, he would take all the shit I handed out.

“Steven stopped Frenching me after about ten minutes and stood up. His penis was still erected and he looked desperate. Once again he tried to get on top of me, but I wouldn't let him screw. 'I don't want to get knocked up,' I told him even though I was not able to have a baby after my operation.

“'Ill pull my dick out in time,' he promised.

“'Forget it,' I answered. 'All I wanted was a blow job anyhow. You can go now.'

“He was shocked. After taking so many pains to see me, I was dismissing him like a dog. He put on his clothes and left with his tail between his legs. I laughed aloud. Maybe he didn't like the session, but I found it fun. I decided to do it again sometime.

“My next idiot was a guy who came to fix the television set. His name was Roger and he was in his twenties. He was a big, good-looking fellow, but a jerk. When he showed up, I wore a see-through robe. Roger couldn't keep his mind on his work as he kept shooting glances at me. The son-of-a-bitch didn't know if he should make a pass at me or not. I was, after all, the wife of a pretty important man.

“How about a drink?' I asked.

“'Yeah, that will be fine,' he answered, nodding his curly head anxiously.

“When I walked away, I could feel his eyes boring into my ass which was protected only by a thin, near-invisible cloth. On the return trip he didn't stare as boldly at my pussy and my tits, but he did shoot those sneaky glances. I handed him a shot of brandy and he bolted it down as if it were a shot of beer. He was really all worked up.

“That shot of booze was all he needed to get sexy at last. 'I like the way you're dressed,' he leered.

“'You mean you like the way I'm undressed,' I responded and stood in front of him as he leaned over the TV set.

“He stopped working and this time he didn't get sneaky with his looks… he stared right into my hairy box. I dropped the robe off. 'Now that you had something to drink, how about something to eat?' I offered.

“Roger was so dumb he didn't get my meaning for a minute. Then he understood and wrapped his sweaty arms around my hips and ass. He clamped his teeth on my vagina and started chewing. As he Frenched me, he slipped one of his fingers into my anus. Roger wasn't very bright, but he was passionate.

“The young stud ran his tongue deep into my cleft and played with my clitoris. For a passing moment I experienced a rare sensation of passion, but it didn't last long. I never enjoyed sex. To me it was a messy bother that people used to dominate one another. In every sex relationship, someone was slave and the other was master. The only time I was even close to being a slave was that first time when I was sixteen and I let a boy take my cherry. Since then it was the men who served me and not the other way around.

“Roger licked my thighs and then ran his tongue up along my belly. When he reached my breasts, he sucked each nipple. He all but chewed them off and I yelled at him. 'Take it easy!' I snapped. 'I'm not a pizza pie.'