Paula Cash - Closet Queen

He turned his head. "Let's see how-they're doing-" he gasped.

He reached over her head and found a control. He worked both the angle and the zoom and the pictures shot up to a full sight of Harold's cock reaming into Lisbeth's envelope, gleaming with her juices. The fabulous close-up filled the screen. He put her hand on it to show her how it worked.

"En-joy," he said.

A sweet, dazed feeling crept over Cheryl. Everything was going to come out okay. She had Salt back and she knew the necklace was inside. Lisbeth and Harold upstairs were going to make out all right and never be aware that others watched them fucking. It would be good for the virginal Harold and the lovely but restrained Lisbeth, who certainly deserved a little adulterous sex. The professor was happy, not only with the wild voyeur act of seeing his wife fucked, but with the joy of screwing a long-legged blonde wearing boots. All Cheryl had to do was lay back, watch the show, and relax.

"Ah, good, good," she said, approving of the tight cock slide in her cunt, despite earlier reluctance. He had a good contact with her clit and she felt the leaping, delightful thrills of the action on her main sex nerve. His slow steady strokes were a welcome change from the wild bucking the young men usually gave her.

"Purr-fect," he crooned, hands under her ass to cant her loins for his best angle.

He was more absorbed in watching the effect of his prick and its impact on her than watching the screen. She couldn't keep her eyes off the TV picture, wiggling the controls to watch the fuck upstairs, first from afar and then zooming in for different angles of the struggling bodies. She felt quite sophisticated, worldly, and full of crazy good humor at being fucked while she watched others fuck. Who'd ever believe this? Poor Abby should've come along for this adventure.

Her body went moist; the professor sagged in delicious contact, lying on her belly so that the air squished out between them with an obscene sound. He began to suck her nipples. She began to fuck back against his thrilling, terrific prick as her own ecstasy soared. Still she managed to keep half an eye on the lascivious action between Harold and Lisbeth.

For the first time in sex Cheryl felt a wild bitch delight that she'd never experienced before. This sex was different than anything that had happened to her. She loved the professor's swollen plunging prick, but she didn't love him. She could forget about trying to please him to enjoy herself. She opened her being to the exquisite sensation of the cock riding her clit in order to extract every bit of sensual joy from it. Each stroke backwards and forwards seemed to drive high voltage pleasure along an intricate set of white hot wires extending up from her cunt to her stomach and breasts and down to her thighs and calves.

She became aware that his hot body plastered to hers pleased a different set of sensuous nerves in her smooth skin. Still another intense flood of joy poured from her locked and responding nipples. She was a total woman in a total fuck.

"Ah, so sweet-geting hotter," mumbled her lover. His pace increased.

Her own loins moved faster and increased all these joys.

"You're-fucking-me crazeee," she keened.

It was true and the frank word made it that more enjoyable. Not sex for love or for power or to impress or win something. Sex to please only the complicated existing love network with which her body was endowed. Talk about hedonist pleasure! This was the peak.

Beyond that her eyes brought her additional excitement as she watched the fuck taking place upstairs. What a privilege to see the sex-lock of two naked adult bodies; twisting and thrusting in ecstatic joy. She'd seen X-rated movies, but they didn't satisfy as well as what took place on the TV screen across the way, especially with that zoom attachment.

She got a further erotic thought. If ever she had a chance to beat her disgusting hangups, now was the golden time. She was locked in delightful man-woman sex and witnessing still another couple do it.

"Oh, so goooood," she murmured.

The professor's response was to fix his mouth on her beautiful lips and start to kiss her open-mouthed and hot. He had everything going now, mouth on mouth, hand kneading a full, exquisite and naked tit, and stiff cock riding to glory deep in the young woman's cunt. He'd worked like the devil all his life to become well-to-do and well known, and he felt it was a deserved reward for his achievement to be able to fuck a beautiful young girl like this. He hung in a blissful heaven.

Upstairs, Lisbeth felt her whole life attitude change. Her sex with the professor had dwindled to almost nothing. It wasn't his fault; after years and years the zing was gone. She suspected he managed to seduce a hot-eyed coed now and again but had reserved herself, even though other lecherous academicians and even younger men found her worthy of pursuing. She knew her body was good -yet she held back-until now. Young Harold turned her on-his innocence, his respect, his hidden sexuality. He was the one young man she'd risk all for.

She felt her belly suffused with tingling joy from the adequate but not overpowering prick. Years peeled off as he rocked, dazed and glazed in the wonder of his first fuck, loving her through every pore of his body. Just as she'd forgotten the hot ecstasies of her young womanhood, she'd forgotten the staying power of young pricks. Harold hung her on golden ropes of extreme sex joy. She surged up under him and locked and gave a high-pitched "Yeeeeeee" of total excitement as her tension burst and she succumbed to an ache-relieving set of pleasure runs that restored the animal gusto of her youth…

A surprised Harold felt the body of his patroness stiffen under him and then it seemed as if her cunt gloved on his cock in strong spasms while she made sounds of gurgling joy. Even in his innocence he realized he'd brought the woman to orgasm. For him the whole evening had been a flood of pleasure and excitement after years of wondering about sex and never having any. First the two young women in his car, and now this.

"Sacre Bleu. Zut!" he went.

Then his floodgates opened, and it was nothing at all like masturbation or even a cocksuck. It was total glory to ejaculate hot bursts of seed into a pink, quaking cunt. He keened and gasped his pleasure, holding the woman and bursting off his luscious spend in her, aware of achieving his manhood with each spuming throb of his cock. He half-fainted in the joy of spending his first virginal gushes into a female cunt…

Downstairs, dreamy, sated with sensual experiences, Cheryl watched and saw the orgasm upstairs. On close-up she could actually see the exploding cock throb as it delivered its spunk and pressed forward into Lisbeth's cunt, only to slide back and inch and carry forward with the next throb.

"Oh, my God," she marveled.

The professor no longer kissed her. His face hung before hers, wide-eyed, glazed. His body locked. He gave animal grunts. He was done and she hadn't cum. He delivered. She felt his cock quake as he spent body-hot gushes in her vagina right on her uterus, but she wasn't going to gush.

She gave a cry. "Oh, nooooooo!”

She flashed on Abby's soft body twined with hers, the sweet rub of cunt sex, and went breathless. As the professor finished and tapered off with a happy "Zowwww!", she was able to give up gorgeous spasms of taken girlhood, as she fantasized the lesbian act. She spent off her tension and fulfilled her deep need for orgasm, yet there was the tinge of bitterness. Even with all of the sex dainties of this evening, she still had her beastly hang-up.

Foster hastened her dressing and shoved her out of the door, complete with Salt. She practically trotted to the nearest street lamp to examine it. She felt the gems in the hollow figurine and her heart sang, but when she pulled the object out it wasn't the Gypsy at all. It was merely a dime store necklace that either Tom, Spider or Harold had substituted for the real thing. With all of her vigorous searching and all the incredible sex, she still hadn't recovered the prize she had to have. She leaned against the lamp post and wept.