John Friday: The wife_s hot whipping

"Remember the taste of it, bitch! Because if I ever find you've been fucking another man in my bed, I'm going to shit a whole platter full and make you eat it by pushing your pretty face in it!"

She nodded that she understood his angry threat. Hal rammed in more cock at the tortured sound. He mashed his tangle of cock hair on her lips and wrenched the root of his prick around in a wide circle to feel the maximum wet friction from her clasping checks.

"I think I like fucking your face even better than your ass. I like the way it pulls and sucks. Harder, bitch. I want you to pull loose another load of cum. My balls are still so heavy with jism that they ache."

Once used to the burning, bitter taste of his dick, Honey began the familiar head-bobbing motions she'd used to delight so many big cocks, including the refrigerator repairman's. Instead of taming her restless cunt, Hal's punishment had heated it all the more. If he didn't fuck her and fuck her good that night, she would have had to think of something to put their new refrigerator out of order again fir st thing in the morning.

She pulled with her lips and raced up and down his shaft, lashing it with her wet tongue, circling the very tip of it when she reached the heavy swollen ridge. Then she wormed into his cum slit with fevered hunger, collapsing her soft cheeks as she slid back toward the root.

A few strokes like that was all Hal could take. He felt pressure swelling in his nuts again and he did nothing to hold it back. He grunted and thrust with his hips and began to fuck her face full.

Honey gulped down his flow and cupped his aching nuts to milk out blast after heated blast.

"Keep it up!" he said even when she'd wrung his balls dry. "I want my dick, hard when I take it out of your mouth so I can fuck your shit hole again. Maybe after two or three more rounds I'll feel good enough to fuck your cheating cunt!"

Honey gave a wet, gurgling moan of joy.

She could hardly wait.

Hal left for work the next morning feeling tired and looking sleepy-eyed in the elevator he saw other men grin and nudge each other with their elbows. Most of them knew about Honey and her boundless appetite for cock. They all thought Hal was the luckiest man in the world.

But he didn't feel lucky right then. He sulked over a rancid cup of stale coffee at his desk. He'd fucked his sexy young wife half the night, in every possible hole and every position he knew.

Finally they both had fallen fast asleep, his sagging cock still wedged snug in her gripping cunt. She lay smiling in her sleep until he hauled his cock out at six when the alarm rang.

If he'd awakened earlier, he'd have fucked her again just for good measure. But as it was he barely had time to dress and get to work. Honey obviously needed another good fuck. She didn't wake up, but as soon as he eased his cock from her slithery wet hole, the dreamy smile on her lips began to fade.

Before he could decide which suit to wear, Honey began to make slow, instinctive fuck motions in her sleep. Her sleek, blonde fringed cunt rocked up and down on their luxurious satin sheets, and Hal knew there was no way her seething pussy would wait nine hours until he returned from work.

Hal was in charge of Inventory Control in a large electronics plant. His office was a metal and frosted-glass cubicle in the accounting department. His years of devoted service to the company had so far earned him only one slight symbol of recognition. The cubicle he occupied was in a section with carpet on the floor.

It was hardly the big executive position that Honey chided him about. To Hal it was just a baring job that demanded great attention to detail. But it paid a lot better than stacking pallets and filling out shipping memos in the warehouse where he'd started.

His assistant was a towering auburn-haired divorcee named Dolores Hartman. Behind her back, other employees often called her Miss Heartless. She might have been a stunning, statuesque beauty. Hal could remember seeing her when they both worked in production, but Dolores apparently turned bitter during her divorce and devoted herself entirely to her new job.

She seldom smiled at anyone and wore thick-lensed-glasses that magnified the blazing intensity of her green eyes. She braided her long, dark coppery hair and wore it coiled around her head like thick rope waiting to moor an ocean liner.

When Dolores first came to work for him, Hal day dreamed about taking her out after work for a few drinks and getting her to unwind and maybe let her hair down, literally. But since then, a kind of competition had developed between them. Dolores was not only good at her job but she gave Hal the uneasy feeling that she wanted his.

She was definitely a woman who wanted to prove something. Maybe that she was better than the man who left her, maybe that she was better than any man. Whenever Dolores found a small error in Hal's work she was quick to point it out never to him, always to his boss.

That morning she flashed a cold and knowing grin when he walked in. Her cool, liquid green eyes flashed up and down looking four times normal size behind her thick glasses. She'd found another weakness, and Hal knew it would not be long before Dolores thought up some excuse to see his boss and just happen to mention how wrung-out Hal looked.

"You must have had quite a night," she said as he passed her desk in the unwalled, uncarpeted section just outside his office.

"Yeah," he mumbled. When she smiled like that, Dolores looked like a prowling shark.

"Too much booze, or too much Honey?" she asked pointedly.

Everyone seemed to know about his wife's voracious appetite for sex. It had pleased Hal at first, knowing how the other men all gazed enviously. But with Dolores, he began to see that knowledge as a threat to his job.

Hal knew he was in no shape to do the detailed work the long columns of figures spewed out of the computer demanded. He downed two cups of strong coffee, bitter enough to dissolve the plastic spoon, before he could even focus his eyes on the small, slightly fuzzy print.

Dolores came in without asking and seated herself in the visitor's chair at the end of his desk, chattering about something Hal didn't want to hear, at least not right then. Her nagging voice sounded like baying hounds about to tree a bear.

"I've already mentioned this to our boss," she said in conclusion.

"Our boss? Look you bitch, he's my boss I am your boss, if you've got anything to mention you better bring it to me!"

"You hardly appear capable of making major decisions this morning," she retorted coldly.

Hal gave her a tight-lipped leering glance across the top of his steaming cup. "If you were a real woman instead of a God damned adding machine with legs, I'd show you just how capable I am!"

"Men," she sneered and spoke the world like she was spitting out shit. "You think sex is the answer to everything, that you are somehow superior because you have balls."

"It's sure the answer to some things," snarled Hal. "A good hot fuck would help a frigid bitch like you get your head on straight."

"That no longer interests me. I can prove my worth in other ways. When the boss sees my figures…"

"The only figure you have that might interest him is the one you keep hidden under your dumpy tweed suits."

Dolores groaned in complete disgust. "I'm as good at my work as any man, better than most. I'd have your job right now if this company wasn't run by a bunch of chauvinist pigs who only have brains in the heads of their cocks!"

"Bullshit," Hal answered flatly. "Capital B-U-L-L, capital S-H-I-T! You only got the job you have because of your fucking cunt and some damn quota we had to fill. There were three men better qualified. When you started working for me, you couldn't tell the computer from the coffee machine!"