Paula Cash - Closet Queen

At least there might be another light switch to make the job easier. She turned back towards the door-and froze in triumph. There it was, all by itself, set just inside the door on the floor where Lisbeth must have placed it when she got it earlier today. Salt-ugly as ever yet heartwarmingly familiar in every line. The end of the chase. Cheryl scooped it up with a glad cry and cut the light and headed out of the room and toward the stairs to sneak out of the house. Lisbeth would certainly understand, and it would save Harold embarrassment. She listened at the bedroom door and heard reassuring sounds that told her Harold and Lisbeth would be occupied for a while.

There were front stairs and back stairs in a house like this. She chose the back stairs in order to avoid the professor, who was undoubtedly preening himself down in his study, waiting for his massage that would never come. She felt guilty about deserting Harold when the professor could possibly catch him, but she doubted that Foster would do much. He-had his own guilt to contend with.

Through a pantry, into the kitchen, and toward the back door. She had to check if the Gypsy were still crammed up inside the figurine, but that could wait until she fled the house.

A strong hand closed on her wrist; she was spun about to face the professor, dressed now only in a robe, and glaring at her with gleaming eyes.

"Leaving so soon?" he said.

"I-uh-have another appointment," she said, struggling.

He stared at Salt and back into her face. His grip did not relax.

"I'm sure you can spare me a minute. I want to show you something."

"Wha-what?”

He walked her back through the kitchen into the front part of the house. His grip on her arm was compelling. He opened the door to the library and thrust her through, into the book-filled, leather furnished room. Under ordinary circumstances Cheryl would've loved to relax in this happy, comfortable room. Not tonight. Especially not after she saw instantly what he'd brought her here to see. the big Foster home included closed circuit TV among its features. Right now a camera in the master bedroom upstairs focused on the bed of Lisbeth Foster. It showed two naked bodies, writhing around each other. So far Lisbeth and Harold weren't fucking. It might be better if they were. You could see everything this way-Lisbeth's hand closed on Harold's smallish stiff prick, Lisbeth's wet, gleaming cunt as she opened her legs in anticipation of the joy to come and Harold tonguing and sucking the woman's quite good breasts.

"That was a great massage," said Foster dryly. "From down here it looked like you shoved your whole fist up Lisbeth's box to get her locked.”

Cheryl gasped in amazement and embarrassment. "You-spy on your wife?”

"Not like this usually," he chuckled. "We've had the closed circuit TV in the kids' bedrooms for years. Then they grew up and left. I didn't want to waste it. In fact I improved it with a better camera and a master monitor here, since I spend so much time in the library.”

He pushed a button and set off the zoom effect on the camera upstairs. The picture enlarged to show the screen full of Lisbeth's fist jacking off Harold's cock. She could see Harold's cock veins and fine hairs on Lisbeth's hand.

"Improvements," he chuckled. "Lisbeth doesn't pay much attention. With the two of us alone in the house she uses it when she's upstairs or in the kitchen to talk to me. We have several cameras-it saves a lot of steps.”

Cheryl heard the sounds now. Not as good as in regular TV, but quite audible and very embarrassing. Harold praised Lisbeth's breasts. Lisbeth murmured something about being hot and ready and "let's do it.”

"Lisbeth is so used to it, she never thinks about it any more," he went on. "I rigged the bedroom camera so I could watch her undress. Sometimes she plays with herself. I sit down here getting hot and then I rush upstairs and we really go at it. Believe it or not, she doesn't realize why I get so hot at certain times. She never cared much for mechanical things.”

"Why, that's-voyeurism," breathed Cheryl.

"Beyond question," he said. "It keeps my marriage green.”

"But with an outside lover… ”

“I don't think she has any. This wouldn't be happening if you hadn't put the boy up to it. Lisbeth's not stupid. She wouldn't go out of her way to seduce somebody, but she likes Harold, and when something like this suddenly offers, she won't deprive herself.”

“It's gross!" cried Cheryl.

"Totally," said Foster. "I've reached the age when it takes new things to reach excitement. Call it middle-aged madness." He chuckled again.

"Aren't you going to stop it?" she asked.

"No. She's entitled, considering I've done a few extra-curricular things myself. Perhaps you've noticed.”

All this time they'd been struggling with her blouse, he to loosen it, she to keep it buttoned. She lost because she still clutched Salt. Now he undid her cut-off jeans.

"Professor!" she cried in shock.

"You're going to have to, you know, if you want to leave this house with that silly looking thing," he said calmly.

He peeled down her shorts and panties over her hips and below her knees, right down to her boots. He gave a shove; she gave a cry, and she found herself sitting in a big leather chair while he stripped off her boots, her shorts and panties. With her cape gone and her blouse unbuttoned and flung back, she might as well be naked.

"I don't want this," she wailed.

"We'll put the boots back on," he said. "I've always wanted to fuck a sexy young girl wearing only boots.”

She struggled, but he managed to replace her boots. Then he spun her over to the big, comfortable leather sofa. While she ended up in a tangle of arms and legs, he removed his robe. He was naked underneath and already hard. It had been planned.

"This is attempted rape," she cried.

"I don't think you'll want to tell your side of it when I tell what happened before,” he said smoothly. "Coed high jinks don't include a woman fingering another woman, or setting up an innocent boy to fuck an older woman. Then don't forget-I hold the ace card.”

"Wha-what?”

He jerked Salt from her hand and set it on an end table. "Play the game and you walk out of here with your figurine in less than ten minutes. Oppose me and you leave alone.”

The whole trouble with her situation was that she'd been sexed up to begin with. She'd left that bedroom upstairs with her cunt sizzling, and her warm juices at full flow. The sight of Harold hadn't done anything to calm her down, nor the actions of the hot-bellied woman upstairs. The kinkiness of voyeuring the love-making kept her high. To think the Professor watched his own wife being fucked turned her on some more. As for the professor, he shocked her, but his randiness didn't turn her off. Her own father was so uptight and stiff that it was a pleasure to meet an older man who was more than a little sex-crazy. Still, she had to make some kind of a struggle.

"Let me go," she cried, writhing against his naked body as he tried to mount her saddle. "I'm not a cheap, wild girl.”

"Shut up and watch the show, and let things happen," he ordered.

She didn't have much choice. His heavy hips pinned her down and his prick, digging here and there to find her hole, began to excite her.

"I want you to know that I don't approve of this," she said. Then: "Ohhhhh.”

About three inches of cock slid into her cunt, which was well-oiled to receive the sexy messenger.

"I-know it," he grunted in pleasure. "It's not-your-uh-fault.”

"I disown this. uhhhhhh." His prick oozed up her vagina to take her full measure.

"I hold you blameless, Cheryl. Sweet Cheryl! Sexy Cheryl!" he cried and began to thrust.

Over his shoulder, Cheryl had an excellent view of the screen and the action upstairs. They had stopped fooling around. Harold laid on top of Lisbeth Foster and drilled into her with his cock. Lisbeth took it with fabulous wriggles of her hips to get the full effect of the smallish cock. She didn't have to wiggle to get the full thrill of her fuck. The professor was plenty big. He fucked in and out of her at an almost sedate pace that was excruciatingly lovely, a real cocksman.