Janet McCoy: The wife_s new pet

"Yep. And I'm going to tell them just where they can stuff it. I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

"But, Hank… what will we live on?" Ellie was scared. What her husband was suggesting was that they suddenly become pioneers. She had never once thought of doing such a thing. They had never discussed anything so… weird. She wasn't at all sure she wanted to leave the big city and all its advantages.

"We've got some money tucked away. And by the time we use it up, the gold should be pouring in. Greg says it's a good rich claim. He's already dredged something like a thousand bucks' worth, and he's only been there six weeks."

"But… you make more than that at work. And you don't have to split it with a partner."

"But, don't you see, honey? At J-Stores, I'll never be anything more than an uptight ulcer-candidate bogged down in shit, in trivia, all the time. This is my big chance to break out. If Greg's claim is this rich this early, we could make a fortune. At least there's a chance, baby. I'm tired of living with a ring through my nose."

"But… I thought you were happy with me."

"I am, baby. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life. None of this would mean anything without you. I want you right there beside me. I want us to strike it rich together. I love you, baby." He pulled her to him and began to kiss her hungrily. He could feel her lush tits pressing against his chest. His cock began to pulse with renewed desire for her.

All Ellie's doubts evaporated with the urgent prod of her husband's big cock against her belly. She could never deny him what he wanted. Her place was beside Hank. Under him. On top of him. This was her man, and whatever he wanted to do, she would do.

But it sure would be hard not to have the supermarket just down the street… and the drugstore, and the movies, and the department stores. Ellie was a city girl, born and bred. She knew nothing about roughing it. She didn't even know one end of a sleeping bag from another.

Greg Bantam was a man's man. A throwback to a bygone era. Ever since he left college, he had been traveling from one place to another, pursuing adventure, setting up challenges for himself. As soon as he had mastered a place and its offerings, he was ready to move on. He had been a seal-hunter in Alaska. A bronc-buster in Alberta. An alligator-trapper in the Florida everglades. He had even herded llamas in Peru.

Now he had been drawn to the inland regions of Northern California, in pursuit of the yellow temptress that had lured men since time immemorial: gold! Greg decided he wanted to be a rich man, so he could try out some of the challenges available only to the wealthy. He wanted to see more of the world. Maybe have his own private jet. The gold was going to get him everything he craved. And what better man to hunt for gold with than his old buddy, Hank Jones? Hank was the only man Greg had ever met whom he really trusted. Hank had proved himself in their youthful days by keeping his hands off Greg's women and by sharing his fights and keeping his secrets. Theirs was a friendship pledged in blood.

All during the week, Greg worked like a serf on his claim, from dawn to dusk. But every Saturday night, for the six weeks he had been on the claim, he went into the local town. It was not much of a town. It boasted a general store, a garage, a hotel with restaurant and four bars.

Already Greg had a favorite bar. It was the Lady Luck. He favored it because the women there were to his liking. One in particular, Wanda Wilde, who resided in the hotel and made her living off her men friends, kept Greg coming back for more. She was a raunchy redhead, with a mind of her own and a good sense of humor. Coupled with a bottomless appetite for sex, her qualities were exactly what Greg required in a woman.

Almost as soon as Greg had sat down at his favorite table at the Lady Luck, Wanda had emerged from nowhere to sit down beside him. The waiter brought Greg's order of a double bourbon, along with one of the same for Wanda. Greg looked at his red-headed companion and smiled.

"I thought I may as well save the man a trip." She tossed her thick red hair back over her shoulder in a sensual gesture that made the blood rush to Greg's cock.

Greg gave the waiter enough money to include a generous tip and waved him away. "You're a good woman, Wanda. You never waste time. I like that."

"That's because you can appreciate the way I am. We're a lot alike, you and I. We both know what we want out of life, and we go out and get it." She smiled saucily as her hand crept under the table and squeezed his prick. Her brown eyes widened. "Hmm. Ready already?" she teased. "You've got to give me time for at least one more drink."

"We'll have plenty more drinks. Then we'll get us a bottle and take it over to the hotel with us."

"That's what I like best about you, Greg. You know how to have a good time."

"Mm-hmm. I know who to have it with, too." He groped under the table and found the hem of her skirt. His fingers crept up underneath, over her bare thigh. Suddenly they were lost in a thick wiry nest of hair and soft flesh. Wanda never wore panties. That turned Greg on.

They were both staggering some when they left the Lady Luck and headed over to Wanda's hotel room. They were scarcely inside her room when Greg grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and pulled her to him. His fingers wound cruelly in her hair while his tongue probed the hot receptive depths of her mouth.

"God, Greg," she breathed when at last they came up for air. "You gave me such a hard-on over at that bar, it was all I could do to stay decent. I wanted to crawl under the table and give you head, right then and there."

His eyes glinted with excitement. "It's never too late, baby," he said as he pushed her down onto her knees on the rug in front of him. He watched through a hazy glow of booze and lust as she began to work at the zipper of his fly.

Wanda's hands trembled as she struggled with the stubborn zipper. At last she had discovered its secret. She pulled it down with one urgent tug. She groped inside his pants and pulled out a hard swollen length of cock. Her tongue flitted lewdly over her lips as she contemplated its awesome size. Then, with a sudden, snake-like movement, she stabbed his cock-tip with her tongue. Her tongue began to run round and round the firm mushroom-shaped surface with building abandon, leaving a sheen of saliva on his pink-fleshed cock.

Greg gritted his teeth and grunted at the unexpected assault on his sensitized organ. "Jee-zus, woman! You sure know how to give head! Fuck! Feels great!" The teasing manipulations of her tongue-tip were more than he could stand. He grabbed her by her thick red hair and forced her face down onto his prick. The whole turgid shaft drove deep into her throat. She coughed, then quickly recovered. With experienced ardor, she began to bob her head up and down over Greg's lurching cock. Her mouth bathed his prick in a repeated wash of hot wet pleasure. While his knees quaked with excitement, Greg took a stronger hold on her hair. His hands guided her pace over his tingling cock. He threw back his head and moaned in ecstasy. It had been a long lonely week since his cock had felt anything this good.

"Shit, woman! Do it! Suck my prick, baby!"

Quivering with her own depraved arousal, Wanda worked her mouth back and forth over Greg's resilient hardened cock. She could feel her love-juices trickling from her naked pussy down over her thighs, underneath her skirt. Wiggling her ass to convey her own arousal, she tongued Greg's cock with abandoned frenzy until he was moaning in non-stop, drunken ecstasy.

"Oh yeah. Suck it! Suck it!" Greg could feel his cock swollen to rock-hard proportions, sending stirring jolts of pleasure throughout his body. When he was able to recover his presence of mind to do so, he liked to watch her head moving back and forth. He liked to see her cheeks puff out each time they opened to accommodate his big prick. Little trickles of drool dribbled down her cheeks on either side of his swollen organ. She manipulated her mouth hungrily, as though she had never performed a task she loved so much… as though his cock were the best-tasting thing that had ever invaded her mouth. "That's the stuff, Wanda! Show me how it should be done, baby! Move that mouth!"