Robert Taylor: Bored wife

"Lanolin jelly. Slickest stuff there is."

He withdrew his finger. Betsy twisted to look back at him. Tom held a small tube in his hand. He squeezed a white loop out of it and smeared it over his cockhead.

"Oh – no!" Betsy cried. "Not that big – huge…"

"Honey, you'll love it." He put the tube to her anus and squeezed cool stuff in. Then he fingered it about the rim of her anal pucker, gradually enlarging it. At last he capped the tube and said: "Doris, toss me the pillows. I want to raise you both up."

When he had the pillows he tucked them under Doris' ass, and Betsy found that, still dildoed into Doris' cunt, her behind was cocked up.

A hand grasped her hip. Then a bulkiness pressed her anus.

"Tom, I don't know!" she cried. "I mean – you'll hurt me…"

"I'll hurt you good, honey," he said, grunting now, and Betsy felt her asshole stretched, the spongy head lodged in it. Just a little hurt. Suddenly the head popped inside!

The feel of it was indescribable, something she had never imagined. A burning hardness, a throbbing in her vitals.

And it seemed to transfer to the false prick in her cunt to the point that it too came alive.

"I'll wait until you ask for more," Tom said.

And Betsy found herself squirming back onto the rigid tool!

As she squirmed Betsy felt his hands grip her hips, holding firmly, and she knew the cock was deep enough in her asshole that it did not need guiding.

Despite the lanolin lubricating their joining, there was a burn to which she tried to adjust by screwing her ass around. As she did this Tom jogged, one-inch strokes that seemed to loosen her considerably. Deeper now, oh God, deeper, that hot and throbbing cock was going right up her rectum!

And his jogging echoed in her cunt. She too was hipping, pushing in and out or a the dildo, firing Doris again, who moaned, "Yes, fuck me, darling, oh Betsy, ram it up my hole…"

But she could not ram, could do only those short jerks out of fear of hurting herself behind. She reached around her buttocks and found his cock. She fingered around it, touching at her anal ring as though to convince herself that the burly dong was really buried in her ass.

Then she fisted it. There was just enough room between his loins and her ass to wedge her hand in.

"Got all you can take?" Tom asked.

"I don't – know – I'm awfully stretched…"

"Listen, if you want to give me a thrill, grab my nuts, huh?"

She felt down his hairy thigh, at last located the soft scrotum. She fingered it upward, inch by inch until his nuts rested in her palm.

She juggled them carefully about.

"Ah-hh!" Tom groaned. "Shit but I'm close! I fucked Vera until her cunt was sore – didn't quite get my load off – but now…"

His jogging became more insistent.

Feeling the prong of a cock move in mid out of her ass, and her cunt throbbing on the dildo, toying with his testicles while Doris massaged her breasts, Betsy for a moment kept the sensations apart. But his cock was too near the dildo, almost as though they were rubbing, friction causing her to burn in the tenderest places.

"Now," Tom grunted.

So soon? She had barely gotten used to being ass-fucked.

But his lengthening thrusts, demanding as his cock stiffened with the first flush of orgasm, sent the heat up her body in waves, swelling her breasts and bringing out sweat on her face. And she was rocking, backing to the thrust, which simultaneously pulled the dildo from Doris' cunt, returning it as he rammed in.

The loudest shrieks were her own, she knew that. Distant sounds because she was once again caught up in the raging turmoil of cum.

Exploding. Writhing, tossing, whacking her asshole back on the big cock within it.

Then Tom fired off.

She had lost his scrotum. And there was no space between his loins and her anal ring for her hand. She clung to her own asscheek, pulling it aside to help deepen his thrusts.

"Going off!" he howled. "Got my gun!"

She felt the spurls of jism fly like buckshot up her ass.

She took off. Left them. Flying a mile high, tumbling on the twin bars of cock in ass and in cunt. Up there in the limbo of pure sensation she met George with an erection that she popped into her mouth and sucked until he shot down her throat.

I'm being fucked out of my mind! she thought.

Then no more thoughts. Just the boiling explosion of cum after cum, sailing through the sky on endless waves of orgasm.

Daylight.

Betsy awoke lying on her own living room couch, a hand between her legs.

The sun was high.

Vaguely she remembered leaving Doris in the den, walking bowlegged with exhaustion from repeated orgasms. Out through the rain, home, passing up her peed-on bed, and flopping here on the couch.

She sat up. Her asscheeks hurt from the belting Jim had given her, and her asshole was sore. She rose and headed unsteadily far the kitchen. Her breasts felt like lead weights and the nipples burned. She fingered her crotch. Freshly slobbered. God, the cuntal juices still flowed!

In the kitchen she avoided looking into the mirror over the sink as she made instant coffee. She took it to the table and slumped down in a chair.

On the table was a note from Jim: "Home at seven."

She gazed blearily at the wall clock. Noon!

Why seven? Jim normally left the office at five.

Jim. The shit!

She was coming awake now. She got a cigarette and lit it, sat scowling. Her pussy itched. She scratched it.

She guessed she had never in her life slept until noon. Nor had she sat naked in her kitchen on a warm, bright summer day, scratching her pussy. But I will if I want to! she thought savagely.

I really busted loose last night. Really. I should feel ashamed. I don't. Just angry. And determined. Spiteful. He made me piss the bed!

She flicked a glance at the mirror, saw her hair tanged like a bird's nest. What a mess. And the smell, she smelled of cunt all over. Shower. Get with it.

She hung the cigarette in a corner of her mouth, picked up the coffee cup and headed for the bathroom, thinking, June Haley. Doris said she hangs out at Bingo's Boite. Likes girls. But so shy she and Doris just sit holding hands.

I'm not that fucking shy! Well, not any more.

In the bathroom Betsy squatted on the john, sipping her coffee as she peed, wishing she had Jim's face down there in the bowl taking the yellow hosing of urine.

Still, it had been a terrible shock to him, walking into Horny Haven and seeing her being fucked.

Teach him a lesson? Straighten him out?

Done pissing, she remained sitting there, in no hurry to clean up, perhaps afraid the shower would wash away her vindictive mood. Promiscuous sexing had shredded the conventions, the proprieties she had lived by – a doormat for the dominant male! As though lewdness were the weapon of her revolution, orgasm her struggle for freedom.

Thus she reached down to her pussy and fondled it, slipped a finger in between the sticky-haired lips and nudged her tilt, poked the soft nubbin until it swelled up and poked into view, a slippery, horny length. Yes, I'm glad I have a queen-sized clit that other girls haven't!

As she massaged the hot growth she tried to picture June, a redhead, Doris had said, but not red like Vera. Brownish. A darling girl… At last Betsy rose, still twiddling her clit, and went out to the phone in the hall. She dropped into the phone chair and sat spraddle-legged, masturbating as she planned.

Decided, she dialed Jim's office.

A soft, breathless voice answered. "Mr. Walters' office. Miss Haley speaking."

Betsy had spoken to the girl a few times, asking for Jim. She had always called herself Mrs. Walters, but June might know her first name. Second name, then. Ann. Betsy Ann.