Robert Taylor: Bored wife

"Making beds – help me?" Laura called.

"Coming!" Betsy abandoned the vacuum and hustled to the bedroom hall, giggling at the way her titties bobbed and lurched. She found Laura bent over a bed, stretching the clean sheet into place. She eyed the girl's behind, big white checks, like hams they were, and down the cleft a dark tuft of hair protruding. Overcome by an outburst of affection – mixed with odd impulses she could not quite fathom – she rushed up behind Laura, threw her arms about the girl, and hugged that plump ass to her pussy.

Laura bunt into laughter, cried, "You frivolous cunt, we're not done work yet!"

"I just wanted to tell you – my husband is such a stuffed asshole – you've liberated me, Laura."

And it did feel good, squeezing her belly and crotch to these firm, sleek asscheeks.

"Well, go liberate the other side of the bed," Laura said.

Betsy scampered over to it. Their hands flew, making quick work of it and then the twin beds in the guest room. Everything seemed hilarious to Betsy, the way their tits hung out when they bent over a bed, looking quite similar now except for Laura's darker points.

The beds made, Betsy returned to her vacuum, finished the living room and took on the dining area. There the machine sucked a blob of white nylon from under a highboy. She switched off and picked up a pair of panties monogrammed PB on the right hip. She showed them to Laura, who was in the kitchen again.

"Looks like Patty Burke. Goodness, that was weeks ago. I've really neglected cleaning, huh?"

"How did they get there?"

"God knows, I don't. Tom calls our house Horny Haven. So anything's possible."

Horny Haven, panties under the highboy! Goodness, Betsy thought. Then she giggled.

Time had flown. When she finally put the vacuum back in the broom closet they had been working two hours. But Betsy knew the job would have taken her days, days of dawdling because what was the hurry? Yes, she stretched out housework to fill the time. And now the clean dishes and gasses were put away, the second load of laundry in the dryer. Her de-smudged dress hung over a chair. She could put it on but had no intention of doing that.

Laura was shaking cigarettes from a pack. They lit up, Betsy leaning against the washer, Laura facing her at the sink, saying, "I guess it's done except for a few odds and ends. We could shower off the stink."

But to Betsy the stink was part of it now. She could smell her own sweat, and her own pussy, and she liked it. Laura's throat glistened with perspiration, and so did the cleavage between her breasts. She was gazing thoughtfully about the place, brushing back her hair, drawing on her cigarette, looking everywhere but at Betsy. And abruptly Betsy felt herself change, standing taller, her loins throbbing lustfully. She crossed the kitchen to Laura, who looked up at her, surprised. Betsy found herself the taller, and more assured. Laura was, believe it or not, blushing!

Betsy tossed her cigarette into the sink and slipped her arms about the girl, brought her close, breasts touching, hot, seeming to flow together. She nuzzled Laura's cheek, and the odor of her femaleness made Betsy's nostrils flare. She liked it!

"Darling, we must shower," Laura murmured.

"No! I want you like this, the way we've been, naked and smelly."

They kissed, mouths open. When she licked Laura's tongue the thrill went racing through her body, into the cushiony breasts between them, to their sweaty bellies, and into the hairy cunt she was pressing to Laura's thigh.

At last the girt sighed, "And I thought you were so stiff – cold…"

"I was," Betsy murmured, kissing her throat, bringing her hands up to squeeze their titties together. "I didn't used to be. I'm blaming it all on Jim."

"Are you sure it's his fault?"

"No, I'm just blaming him for keeping me from being myself." She took Laura's face in her hands, kissed her again. Her heart was pounding and her hands trembled as she explored, felt over the girl's shoulders, down her sleek back to her waist, out the curves of her ass, digging her fingers in and tugging, crushing the girl's pubic mound to her own.

"You horny darling!" Laura gasped.

On fire now, Betsy nibbled her throat and whispered, "I'm going to take you to bed."

"All sweaty?"

"And smelling of cunt. Like me. Honey, I haven't smelled so good, exciting, wonderful – in years!"

Laura laughed. Then Betsy moved her and they went, arms about each other, toward the bedroom ball, Betsy watching their breasts wobble, and the sway of their bare bellies, and the switching of their pubic muffs. Betsy turned them into the room with the double bed.

"We'll mess up the sheets," Laura sighed, dropping down on the bed.

"There's clean ones in the dryer." Betsy bent over her, completely the aggressor now, grasped a big breast in both hands, and mouthed the nipple. It grew to a great dark peg between her lips. She licked the rubbery areola, and heard Laura whimper with pleasure. The circle swelled; she sucked at it, sucked her mouth full of breast.

Betsy gazed down the Laura's deep-dimpled belly to the dark sprawling bush of her cunt. She sent her hand slowly stroking down it, fingers plowing into the bush. Silky, curly hair, long and thick. She tangled her fingers in it and tugged.

"Oh, God!" Laura choked. "If you touch – my clit – I'll cum!"

Betsy did not. She forked her fingers and slid them down the plump mound. Laura yanked her legs apart and Betsy's fingertips went butter soft down her outer lips, closed on them, drawing together, gently massaging and feeling drool ooze out. In seven years she had not touched another girl's cunt! But now…

"Such a tease!" aura whimpered. "Honey, I need a cum or I'll get all tied up."

Betsy knew what she meant. How well she knew it! And now, still kneading a breast, she kissed down the girl's soft belly, tongued into her navel. It tasted salty. Sweat. Delicious sweat! But as she progressed the other liquid overpowered it, the sweet tanginess of cunt juice, and her nostrils flared, sucking it in eagerly. She rubbed her face in silky mound hair, the odor stronger and making her pulse pound. She gazed over the fluffy bush, down at the broad, hairy valley between milky thighs.

She saw outer lips spread, forming an oval about crimson flesh shimmering with sex liquids. The clit stood right out of its red notch, a fiery nubbin.

And the crinkled inner labia, swollen shiny now, and there, the slot, dark within, the narrow opening to Laura's fuckhole.

Laura's legs raised, and Betsy, between them, gazed down at her drooling cunt.

"Lap me, honey!" Laura cried. "I want to get off…"

And Betsy plunged down between the columns of her thighs into the swirling, odor of hot cunt, down open-mouthed and tonguing, gobbling hairy lips and squishy split, tonguing the erect clit, sucking, wallowing in it, rubbing her face in jelly-soft flesh.

Her head was spinning. She was drunk on it, licking with the flat of her tongue, down to the girl's slot, forcing her lips inside and blowing as tough to inflate her cunt, then sucking the drool.

Laura shrieked, "My cum! Ah-hh, Betsy, you're sucking me into a cum, oh-hh, my cunt is going inside out!"

Betsy backed to the clit, a truly horny nubbin now, tongue-lashed it and then squeezed her puckered lips to the slippery protrusion and sucked, drawing the tidbit and the surrounding flesh right into her mouth.

Laura's whole body was whipping now and she cried, "Honey, do you like my cunt?"

"I love it!" Betsy cried.

"Oh-hh, I'm bunting into cum, oh suck it a little more and then I'll – oh-hh, sweetie!"

She shuddered, went into a stiff quivering. Her thighs crunched in on Betsy's head as she strained, jerking hard.

"Ah-hh!" she shrieked. "I'm cumming so hard, Betsy, oh please suck my clit more, swallow my clit!"