Evelyn Street: Behind the barn

"That bastard! That dirty bastard!" Sandra gasped, and in a fury of temper, began to splash out at the contents of the desk, scattering papers, letter trays, pens; everything went flying in all directions and fell to create untold chaos on the floor. Her anger unleashed beyond control, she yanked at the file drawers, pulling them completely away from their moorings, and dumped the files she had so carefully put in order, in a dishevelled heap on the floor.

As suddenly as it came, her demonic flash of temper deserted her, and she sank back in hopeless bewilderment on the swivel chair. All around her, the records of the past eight years lay in disarray on the floor, and a dreadful sense of futility convulsed her.

"Oh God," she sobbed, "what did I do to deserve this?" She buried her face in her hands and her shoulders shook with the racking sobs which enveloped her. How many more were there? she asked herself piteously, torturing herself with images of various women that both she and Mike had known. Had he had an affair with all their friends? she wondered bitterly. In her jealous humiliated anger, new images began to inject themselves into her consciousness – glimpses she had caught of various naked bodies with full voluptuous breasts and creamy sinewy thighs, stretched out in opulent sensuality, seemingly oblivious to the unknown photographers who were busy snapping away as her husband caressed and stroked and kissed those velvety bodies. Her mind seemed unable to banish the lewd images, and fresh ones began to superimpose themselves in her fervid imagination. Mike kissing and slavering an open, exposed vagina, lewdly displayed and eagerly offered to him… Mike sinking his wildly excited penis into a greedy, grasping vaginal orifice, strong supple thighs egging him on… Mike lying back as luscious red lips encircled his bloated penis… The obscene snatches from the vile cache of photographs she had unwittingly uncovered played relentlessly in her mind, mocking her with their leering evidence of her husband's infidelities.

She felt broken in mind and spirit. The actuality which those photographs seemed to point to was too shocking for her to bear. Under the thin veneer of city sophistication she had acquired, Sandra was still basically a conventional American wife, strict enough in her own way to the code of morality to which her family and all before her had subscribed. She had looked upon marriage as sacred, even in this day and age of quickie divorce and pre-marital and extra-marital sex, and had automatically assumed that any philandering on the part of her husband would stop after marriage. And she was sure it had! That was the hard part. She had been so snug and secure, even in the dark days of their early times on the farm, feeling cocooned in the sanctity of the wedded state, and that accounted for the tremendous shock she experienced when she had discovered her husband's affair last year. And now! She had uncovered devastating evidence that pointed to a whole series of adulterous infidelities! Involuntarily, she reached for the pile of photographs which had fallen to the ground amid the shambles of the office.

Almost disinterestedly, she scanned them over again. Yes, there was no doubt about it! There were three or four different girls involved in the debacle, and the pictures showed Mike involved with each and every one.

She studied a particularly lurid one, showing him and a tall lithe brunette stretched out, touching at only two places. His mouth was firmly planted in the nest of her dark pubic curls, and her mouth was tightly clasped around the red thick length of his penis. The girl's eyes were half-closed and her thick luxuriant hair fell in tendrils around her face, giving her an almost angelic look as she exalted in the feel and taste of Sandra's husband's penis in her mouth. Sandra continued to stare at the lewd shot. What did it feel like, having a man's male hardness locked tightly in your mouth? she wondered, amazed at the look of almost reverent ecstasy on the girl's face. Mike had tried once or twice, she remembered, pushing her head down under the blanket, and she had, of course, refused to do anything like that. She had always thought it perverted, somehow, and yet, this girl seemed to be thoroughly aroused by it. And that blonde in the first picture, she mused in horrified fascination, flicking back to it, seems in ecstasy, too. Her attention was caught by one she hadn't scrutinized before. It showed a well-built redhead, her breasts full and vibrant, spreadeagled beneath Mike, whose engorged prick was sunk halfway into the soft, hair-fringed tunnel of her vagina. The girl's legs were wrapped around her husband's lower back and her spine was arched up off the bed as she strove to open her depths wider and deeper to him. Sandra stared in lewd fascination at the minutely detailed photographs of sexual intercourse. Even her animosity to her husband seemed to retreat as she studied abstractly the obviously impassioned couple. The redhead's head was thrown back, and her mouth was open. Her hands were dug into his shoulders, and her whole body seemed afire. Mike's hands were clutching at her firm, upswept breasts, and Sandra could see the reddened tips of her fully turgid nipples slipping out through his flngers. There was a look of pure animal desire on her husband's face, a look she hadn't seen in a long, long time! Despite herself, Sandra felt a little tug of jealousy. She remembered how she used to arouse that complete passionate frenzy in her husband, how he used to be almost aflame with desire for her, and her alone, she was sure, and now, this redheaded hussy was the one who was making him act like that…

Sudden tears surprised her as they swam in her eyes. It isn't fair… she murmured to herself. It was so long since she had seen Mike crazed with desire, so long since he had even made love to her… She felt a sudden emptiness inside her, a feeling which she recognized as vague desire. It began to gnaw at her, worming its way insidiously into her depths, gaining a foothold in her numb body. He never tries to kiss me there anymore… the thought leapt into her head. It was years since he had tried to persuade her to allow him to put his head down between her thighs and kiss her pussy, but she had so vehemently and absolutely refused him when he had made the attempt. It can't be so bad, she muttered to herself, her eyes glued to another shot, this time of Mike with his face buried in the copper fleece of the redhead's openly throbbing cunt. Sandra could see the moist flanges of the girl's vagina rimming Mike's wetly glistening nose and mouth, and her thighs were clamped and straining eagerly around his steaming face. The girl's eyes were closed and it was obvious that she was in the throes of complete abandon. Then, in spite of the shock and revulsion of seeing her husband locked in lewd, naked embrace with another woman, Sandra felt a tingle beginning between her own legs, a ripple that seemed to grow as her eyes continued to focus on the spectacle of her husband's grovelling between another woman's widespread thighs. How did it feel, to have a man's tongue licking and sucking and blowing his hot, passionate breath into that secret place, have his mouth warm and caressing around your clitoris, feel his kiss on your nakedly exposed pubic mound?

Her feverish mind threw the questions at herself, and suddenly, she felt hot all over, covered with a cloying clamminess that made her feel like tearing her dress from her body. She was dimly aware that she was unconsciously clenching her heated thighs together and imperceptibly grinding her buttocks into the leather of the swivel chair. The tingling in her loins grew and the gnawing inside her burst into a devouring flame and she wondered vaguely what was happening. Her eyes flickered aimlessly to another picture, and a startled gasp eluded her as she stared in disbelief at what she saw. Sandra thought that the photographs she had already examined had prepared her to a point where she was beyond surprise, but she was wrong. She gaped in astonishment at the candid snapshot, unable and unwilling to believe that it was her husband who was actually inserting his huge, lust-hardened penis in the blonde's tiny puckered anus! But there was no doubt about it – the photograph showed in unerring detail the enormous girth of Mike's blood-inflated prick encircled by the brown crinkled little rectal mouth, stretched cruelly around the massive circumference. This lasciviously depicted anal entry was too much for Sandra. Revulsion swept through her – disgust at the knowledge that the man she had married could and did indulge in such an animalistic, carnal act, a thing she, a grown woman, had only heard about in whispers. It was too shameful to even think about; it was disgusting! And yet, Sandra noticed in amazement, the blonde didn't seem to mind it. In fact, she seemed to like it, judging by the lewd look of delight on her passion-contorted face. Oh God, what was going on? Her world seemed to have gone topsy-turvy, and all the opinions she had held on such matters seemed to have been refuted by the pictorial evidence she held in her hand. These girls weren't being abused, subjected to a man's whim or desire – they were actually enjoying it! They seemed to love all the obscene things Mike was doing to them… they were revelling in what to her would be the lowest kind of debasement.