Grant Roberts - The wayward wifes

“Yes, yes, yes!” Patty’s buttocks were undulating faster and faster on the bed, and her eyes seemed to be riveted almost hypnotically on the gently wavering plume in the old man’s fingers.

Renault waved the feather over the length of her body, not touching her with it, saying soft words in that same strange language he had used at the pot ritual. His eyes glittered with an almost fanatical fire. Then he knelt on the bed beside her and lowered the feather to flutter it at the balls of her feet. Her toes began to twitch and she writhed all the more ecstatically on the bed, her cunt seeming to open and close, open and close, as if it were a starving mouth waiting to be fed the staff of life.

Renault began to move the feather upward, over her ankles and her knees and along her inner thighs. Then he was dusting it lightly along her crotch, along the wet, glistening folds of her gently throbbing pussy until the oscillating phallus of her clit seemed so engorged as to be near bursting.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oohhhhh!” Patty wailed in an almost crazed lustfulness.

Renault moved the feather higher, along the flat creaminess of her belly, over one firm, resilient, pink-tipped breast and then over the other, making the nipples as rigid as her bud below. Patty’s hands were clawing at the spread now, and she was grinding her firm, rounded buttocks down on the mattress, her knees drawn up but wide spread, soles of her feet touching and her cunt flowered wide, wide, and flowing her juices in ever-increasing streams down onto the cloth beneath her churning bottom. He continued to brush the feather over her tits, back and forth, again and again, and then he was bringing it back down over her belly, between her legs, teasing and stroking her liquidy furrow until she felt a scream of near madness rise in her throat and burst forth into the stillness of the room;

“Aaaaagggggghhhhh!”

Renault did not stop. Back and forth went the feather, up and down, until Patty thought she would pass out from sheer ecstasy, feeling her cum build inside her like a seething tornado of lubricious, delirious joy. Another few seconds now, another few seconds, and she would be there, she would be cumming, that wonderful beautiful fantastic feather would make her cum… He stopped.

All of a sudden, Renault drew the feather back, holding it high above his head.

Patty’s eyes fluttered open, her hips still wildly rotating. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!“ she pleaded sensuously. “More, more, more, more!”

“No, my dear,” Renault said softly. “Now it’s your turn to give me the same pleasure I have given you."

“But…”

“Hush now,” Renault said authoritatively.

He stretched out beside her, pushing the ostrich feather into her hand. "I know you were almost on the point of climax, and that's why I stopped. We must build my desires, too, so that when I at last fuck you, it will be a coupling of the greatest possible magnitude."

Patty nodded numbly. "All right, Rick, whatever you say."

"There's my girl."

She rolled onto her knees, holding the feather over him as he had done to her. His eyes were fastened on the plume as hers had been, and his tongue flicked out wetly over his puckered lips.

"Shall I start with your feet?" Patty asked.

"Yes," he answered. "But you must ignore my prick and my balls until the very last. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Then-begin!"

Patty began to move the feather slowly, slowly, over the balls of Renault's feet, bringing it up along his legs. His buttocks began to squirm on the bed, just as her firm young ones had, as she swept the feather in a wide path around his pelvis, up along his belly, across his wizened chest. Back down again, pausing at his belly; back up again, around his throat.

"That's it, my dear! That's it, my dear!" he chanted, and thin threads of drool rolled out of the corners of his mouth. His cock stood straight up, quivering with desire, the head lubricated with a wet, glistening seminal film. As she brought the feather down along his sides, Patty could sense her own passion beginning to approach its crest again; there was something infinitely exciting, infinitely debauched, about the use of that great colorful plume on one another's bodies. She stared at his cock, so stiff and blood-purple that it could have been the penis of a young boy instead of that of an older man, and she wanted it inside her pussy, wanted it to reach into the depths of her belly more than she had wanted any cock in her life. But she was under his command, under his spell; she would not have his great member inside her until he deemed it time.

"Aaaahhhh!" Renault was crooning on the bed as Patty tickled his thighs with the feather, brought it down to his knees, back up almost to his crotch. And then: "Now, Patty! Now, my balls! Tickle my balls and the head of my cock! Quickly, now! Quickly!"

She did as she was ordered, fluttering the tantalizing softness of the feather all the way up his thighs to swirl around the two bloated pendulums of his testicles. Then she reached down and grasped his prick at the base with her free hand, holding it still as she moved the feather lightly over the glans, around and around like a swirling tongue, then along the rigid shaft to his balls again, back up to the head, back down, back up, back down.

"Oooooooaaaaahhhhh!" Renault wailed, flexing his hips and his pelvis in a mad jerking of sexual frenzy. "Now get on, get on, get on! Oh Patty, Patty, impale yourself on my great rod! Fuck me with your sheathing cunt, Patty dear! Get on and fuck me now, now, noooww!"

The lewdness of his command incited Patty's fires of passion to an even hotter degree, and she dropped the feather, twisting her body up to straddle him, locking her knees and thighs against his sides, raising up so that her moist, widely-spread cuntal mouth was directly above the head of his hardened cock, less than two inches from the wet, sticky, blood-raged head. She reached down and held his staff in her hand again, her hips beginning to sway slightly as she prepared herself for her down thrust. She guided the head of his cock, positioned it, at the door of her secret recess, lowered herself until she could feel the glans touching, touching like a feather, the folds of her yearning, lust-burning slit.

And then… and then she impaled herself down on it!

"Eeeeeeaaaahhhhhh!" she squealed in abject surrender as the full length of his cock filled her cunt, slammed up against her cervix painfully. She could feel his bulging, hairy balls against her ass cheeks, feel his wiry-haired pelvis pressed to her crotch.

"Fuck me!" Renault screamed up at her. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! Oh dear Patty, fuck my cock with your lovely cunt! Hurry, hurry, fuck meeee!"

Patty began to bob up and down then, leaning forward on her hands, which were spread out on either side of his wildly lolling head. Her beautiful tits swayed and danced like two live things, the nipples brushing his throat and collarbone. Her cunt climbed his cock to the crest, fell back to imprison it all the way, climbed to the crest again, fell back. The muscles of her vaginal passage clamped tightly around the invader, squeezing it, milking it, and she rotated her hips madly around the hard, fleshy, hot shaft buried inside her.

Renault raised one of his hands from the bed and his clawlike fingers dug into the soft, firm flesh of one of her pliant globular buttocks. He kneaded and manipulated the sweating moon, reaching around to probe the puckered ring of her anus briefly, dipping his fingers into her wet, warm crotch to feel his own cock and the outward-pulling of her cunt lips as she drew up on the shaft, the inward-contracting of them when she lowered herself down on the turgid member.

Then his mouth was seeking, and finding, one of her bobbing breasts. He used his other hand to guide the distended nipple to his lips, where he took it between his teeth and began to nibble on it, squeezing the softness of the tit hard in the palm of his hand. His teeth were bared now, and his eyes were tightly shut as she rode abandonedly up and down the length of his burgeoning prick.