Janet McCoy - Wife on the loose

"Ooooh, Tom, I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

Tom had never experienced such a thing before.

Tears were running down the woman's face. Tears of joy and release!

Watching her cum with such amazing intensity set Tom free.

"Look out, baby! I'm cumming, too! Ahh, Jee-zuz!"

The relief of feeling his cum spilling into her clenching cunt made the young husband smile. How much rosier the world looked after a good fuck!

"Thanks, Fay baby, that was sensational," he told her as he helped her up from her doubled-over position against the dresser. "Now how's about that cup of coffee?"

That was what Tom was doing the night Heather met Zeke and Zola.

Tom was feeling good when he turned his big station wagon into his driveway.

It was after two a.m. For once, he would be home later than Heather. Now she could wonder where he had been all evening.

His victory was short-lived, however. Heather's car was not in the garage. She was not home.

The anger Tom felt as he let himself into the dark house grew with the minutes and hours until at last he heard the sound of Heather's car in the drive.

He had downed a couple of ryes on the rocks while waiting. He was not drunk. But his nerves were on edge; his emotions were razor-sharp. Tonight he was determined to get to the bottom of his wife's mysterious outings with "the girls".

Being with Fay tonight had done more than allay his horniness. It had left him with a strong sense of his own masculinity. His little red-headed wife was not going to treat him like dirt any longer.

He smiled wryly as he noted the look of apprehension on Heather's face as she entered the living room.

"Well… if it isn't my little loving wife!" he drawled sarcastically. "How was your night out with the girls?"

"Tom…" She seemed at a loss for words. "I thought you'd be asleep, by now." She was scrutinizing him closely as she moved closer to where he sat on the couch.

"That's reasonable enough. Most people are asleep at five in the morning. And you can quit trying to ogle my eyeballs. I'm not drunk, either. In fact, I just got home a little bit before you."

She seemed shocked. "Oh?"

Somehow the idea that Tom, too, could have his little midnight outings had never occurred to the pretty redhead. She was not sure she liked the idea. She had been so busy catering to her own wants and needs, she had forgotten about Tom's. Absorbed in the drama of her own frustration, she had overlooked the horniness that Tom, too, must have suffered during the past weeks and months.

"Where were you, Tom?" The question was delivered quietly, timidly.

He smiled at her. The look made Heather more nervous than ever. She had never seen Tom look so cool and calculating, so sure of himself. Had he been changing over the past weeks? She couldn't be sure. They had seen so little of each other.

Or had something happened all at once – tonight perhaps – to wreak the change in her husband?

"I think there's something we ought to discuss before we get down to my activities tonight. Like you and the girls, for instance."

His eyes never left his wife's. The force of his look cowed Heather. She sank down into a chair facing him.

"What do you mean, Tom?" It was now that she realized how deeply angry the man was.

"I mean what have you really been doing every night after work?"

"But, Tom… I told you… I've been going out for a drink with some of the women at work. You know how girls are when they start talking. The hours just fly by!"

He rose from the couch so quickly that he was standing over her before she even realized he was up. He grabbed her shoulders ant pulled her to her feet. His eyes glared into hers. Only a couple of inches separated them.

"Don't bullshit me, Heather, I've had enough of the bullshit. More than enough!"

She was terrified. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She couldn't decide whether it would be better to confess or to continue antagonizing him with lies.

Suddenly Tom reached down and began tearing her clothes from her body.

"Tom! What are you doing?! Stop! You're ruining my dress!"

"You can buy another one. I just want to see my wife naked for a change. Why should I be the only one left out? Don't tell me you haven't been up to some hanky-panky, Heather, because I don't believe you. I know how much you love to fuck. And I know you haven't tried to fuck me for weeks. You can't tell me you've suddenly decided to become a nun. Because I just won't go for it. There now! That's better!"

She stood trembling before him, naked except for her garter and stockings and high heels. He had torn off both her dress and her flimsy lace bra.

"What'sa matter, Heather? Too hot outside for panties? Or do you just get a kick out of going around with your twat hanging out?"

"I… I just don't like wearing them, that's all!"

The terror was building. He was fingering her pussy! Would he guess…

"Jee-zuz, that's a hot twat you've got there, baby! What were you doing? Playing with yourself on the way home? Fuck, your cunt's wetter than a swamp after a rainstorm!"

He raised to his nose the hand that had been fingering her cunt. He looked deep into her eyes, his own eyes blazing with conviction.

"Shit, baby, I'd known that sweet aroma anywhere! Who have you been fucking? Tell me!"

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. In her fear and confusion, Heather could think of only one course of action. She would have to come clean, tell him the truth. He wouldn't like it, but maybe he would at least let up on her once he knew everything.

"I've been meeting… some people… after work, Tom. They're nothing special to me. I just needed to make love to somebody… and you don't seem interested."

He flung her hard down onto the couch, as though be could not stand to touch her any longer. "Jee-zuz Christ, woman! How was I supposed to get interested in someone who acted as though I was the shittiest lover in the world? You treated me like dirt, Heather, every time we made love. You made it very clear I wasn't enough for you."

"But, Tom!" she cried in exasperation. "It wasn't enough! I needed more!"

"And are you getting it now? Are you getting what you need, baby?" he hollered at her.

"YES!" she screamed back. "Yes, I'm getting fucked like I always needed to get fucked! My cunt feels really good for the first time in my life! Do you hear me, Tom? For the first time!"

She knew she was courting disaster, but in her hysteria she didn't care any more. All she knew was that she was not going to let him put all the blame on her. He had blown it as much as she had. Not once had he tried to talk it over, to devise some plan for making things better between them.

He had left it up to her to save herself.

And she had.

She was lying face down on the couch, her eyes turned up towards him. She tried to struggle to her feet, but he raised a foot and used it to push her back down onto her belly.

"Stay right where you are, cunt! I'm not finished with you yet!"

His contemptuous words aroused Heather's Irish temper. She struggled mightily to get up off the couch, but he pinned her to the cushions with his knee.

"Let me up off here, you bastard! Let me…"

Tears of frustration rolled down her cheeks. She realized what a defenseless position she was in. He was so much stronger than she was. And she suffered from the added indignity of being nearly naked.

Her lewd outfit-stockings, garter and shoes, made her feel vulnerable. She did not want to feel vulnerable right now. She had a fight to fight. And she wanted to put up the best defense possible.

"Let me go!"

Watching his wife struggling under him in her obscene costume was doing strange things to Tom. His experiences with Fay earlier in the evening had released his libido. And watching Heather's garter-streaked ass struggling for freedom was reviving his lust. Her ass-cheeks were so firm and round, wriggling provocatively beneath his knee. They seemed to beg for attention. For something long and thick and hard to satisfy their writhing quest.