Robert Jenkins: Loose wife

"Uuuunnnggghhh," Jill moaned as her finger made contact with her tender inner tissues. She let the tip slide under her tender inner labes, softly stroking their sensitive softness. Her fingers slid easily through the well-lubricated channel.

Jill was teasing herself, putting off the moment when her finger would finally head straight for the bull's-eye – her impatiently waiting clit. She moved her fingertip higher, right up to the base of the wild sensitive little nub. She spread her legs wide, opening up her gash farther. She sensed the rosy tip of her clit pop out from behind its protective covering.

"Aaaaahhh," Jill moaned as she finally glided her slippery fingertip over the top of her throbbing love-button. Her body jerked convulsively as a bolt of pure pleasure rocketed through her cunt.

Ooooohhhh, God, it would be wonderful to have Pat touching her like this, stroking her pussy-slit, getting her ready… ready to fuck!

Jill tried to visualize Pat lying next to her on the couch, his naked body pressed close to hers. She pretended one of the upholstery buttons on the back of the couch was the tip of hit swollen prick, jabbing demandingly into her side. The prick that would soon stab far-up into her hungry cunt.

Her cunt! Jill switched her finger from her glowing clit and slid it eagerly down the well-greased track of her pussy-slit. It caught in the opening to her cunt. She felt her pussy-hole flower open a little, hot and pulsing aching to be filled.

"Uuuummmm," Jill sighed as her finger slipped up into her cunt. She felt her hot wet pussy wails pulsing eagerly around her intruding finger. She began to finger-fuck herself, slowly sliding her finger in and out, shoving it as far up into her asshole as it would go.

Which wasn't far. Her finger was woefully tort. A lot shorter than a cock. And a lot thinner. That pert she could do something about. She slipped mother finger up into her cat beside the first. And when her pussy had gotten ad to that, a third. Soon, she was literally fist-fucking herself, four fingers ramming steadily up into her cunt.

"Mmmmm… Pat," she whispered, trying to pretend it was Pat's cock skewering up into her shuddering snatch. But it was a hard pretense to keep up… unless she wanted to believe Pat had a tort thick cock only four inches long.

Her fingers just weren't long enough! The upper reaches of her pussy screamed for attention, but her groping fingertips couldn't roach.

She needed something longer. Something that would ram pleasure all the way up to her womb. But what?

Thai she remembered. Just a couple of days to go a brush salesman had come to the door. To get rid of him, Jill had finally agreed to buy a dish mop. A dish mop with soft strands, but most important of all – a long plastic handle.

Jill pulled her dripping fingers from her cunt. Getting to her feet a little shakily, she went into the kitchen. The dish mop was just where she had left it, in the back of a drawer, still unwed.

She pulled it out, examining it, turning it over and over with trembling fingers. Oh, yes! It would do. The handle was about eight or nine inches long, smooth and slick, about the same thickness as a good-sized cock. And thank God it was plastic. Jill would have been afraid to use it if it had a wooden handle. Splinters.

Trying not to think how ridiculous she must look, Jill carried her new lover, the dish mop, back to the couch. She lay down on her back and spread her legs. Cold air gushed up into her open wet cunt.

The trembling young woman worked the broad tip of the dish-mop handle up between her pussy-lips. She flinched. It was cold. So unlike a warm, living cock.

The dish-mop handle went into her cunt fairly easily, especially after she smeared a little pussy juice over its smooth plastic length.

"Uuuunnnhhhh," Jill moaned as she slowly rammed the cold hard shaft up into her pussy-hole.

She felt herself being spread open to accommodate the odd dildo she was shoving up her cunt. God, it was so long! It seemed to slide in forever, inch after inch, until at last she felt the rounded tip stretching the hr end of her pussy-channel.

There was still a little bit of the shaft sticking out. And of course, the mop-head. It protruded from between her legs, a fluffy white man, a little like a rabbit's tail. She could get a good hold on it the soft mop-head wasn't likely to slip in her grasp.

Jill started experimenting. Oooohhh, it felt good as she slowly moved the dish-mop handle in and out of her trembling cunt. She had so much control! She could decide how deep it was ping to go up into her shuddering hole, how fast, at what angle.

For a while she even rotated it, spinning the shaft between her fingers, twirling it around and around up inside her snatch.

Low, whimpering cries of delight bubbled from the brunette's throat. This was wonderful! But then she realized she'd forgotten her first intentions – to pretend the dish mop was Pat's cock!

"Oooohhhh, lover, fuck me!" Jill panted a she began fucking her kitchen mop harder and harder into her creaming cunt. "Mmmmm, Pat, shove your hard cock all the way up to my tonsils!"

Jill had both hands on the dish mop now ramming it fiercely in and out of her steaming pussy-hole. She'd never had anything rammed so far up her snatch before. She could do anything to herself she wanted!

Jill took one hand from the dish mop and began stroking her clit again, at the same time keeping the plastic shaft chugging in and out of her cunt with the other hand.

"Oh, God, I can't stand it!" she babbled. "It's all too much!"

Jill's entire cuntal area burned and glowed. Her finger against her clit, her cunt full of mop-handle. A wild excitement grew, far up inside her belly.

"Pat… baby… I'm… I'm going to cum!" Jill whimpered.

Her finger flew faster and faster over her clit. She pounded the mop-handle as far up into her cunt as it would go.

She was almost going to beg Pat to cum with her, when she remembered his cock was only the lifeless plastic handle of a cheap dish mop. Nothing would come spurting out its smooth tip. No warm sperm would flood into her thirsty cunt.

No matter. It felt wonderful anyhow. Almost defiantly, Jill dug the fingers of both hands into the soft mop again, and screwed it as far up into her shuddering pussy as it would go.

It was almost as if the tip of it broke through some invisible inner barrier. Something let loose far up inside Jill's womb and she was cumming.

"Mmmnnnggghhh!" she moaned, gritting her teeth, trying not to cry out, afraid she would wake Hal and he would catch her in the midst of her lewd mop-fucking. Because she knew she wouldn't stop. Not even if he were standing right over her, staring down in shock.

But it was no good and she knew it. She had lost control near the end, when the only thing that mattered was how hard she could ram the mop-handle up into her screaming gash. She'd either have to fuck Pat for real, or push him out of her mind.

For a moment she thought, Why not? Go ahead and fleck Pat. Even your husband says he doesn't mind!

But such a big step. To suddenly decide to toss away her marriage vows. To open up her marriage to new and dangerous forces. Who know how she and Hal would feel about one another, when both of them were out fucking other people?

Because she had no doubt, once she had fucked Pat, that Hal would be all over Sue. She still didn't know it wouldn't be the first time he'd been unfaithful to her.

What to do? Wearily, Jill started to sit up, but a sharp twinge reminded her the dish mop was still stuck up her cunt. She slowly drew it out. It came loose with a wet sucking sound. She looked at the mop. The handle was shiny with her cunt juice. The soft head had turned soggy and smelled like pussy.

"Ugh!" Jill said. A sudden burst of anger swept over her, and she threw the dish mop across the room.