Ron Taylor: Wife on the prowl

"I take it the discussion is over?" she sniffed.

"I suppose so."

"The hell you say!"

Melinda flung the sheets off him, quickly, surprisingly, and Neil turned over. "Oh, for…"

She grabbed the waistband of his pajamas and jerked them down. He didn't have time to protest or prevent and, since he wore nothing under his pajamas, his soft cock was bare in a twinkling sort of way.

Soft and tiny, curled like a little worm across the medium-sized bag of stones, a flash of skin in a curly sea of pubic hair. Melinda grabbed it in one hot palm and she squeezed viciously, gasping with the intensity of her attack. She felt him throb in her hand and she was positive that Neil's cock engorged ever so slightly.

He twisted his body, as if he meant to slip out of her possessive grip, but she had him firmly by the prick. "No," Melinda announced dictatorially. And then she yanked his tool as if she were milking a cow. He stretched in her fist, but did he harden?

A little, maybe. He felt stiffer, as if some life had finally begun to ooze stealthily into his penis. She looked at his face. His eyes were averted, resisting her fierce demanding stare. She pulled away, and this time she was certain. He was starting to get at least a semi-erection.

Well, a semi-erection was better than he'd been doing lately. Goddamn his job, if it was draining him of his manhood, destroying their sex life!

They'd been married four years and for three and a half of those years everything had been perfect. Absolutely perfect. She and Neil clicked. In bed. Out of bed. Everywhere. They couldn't have been a more congenial couple if they'd been born identical twins.

But six months ago Neil had gotten a promotion and they'd moved here from Pittsburgh, and the trouble had begun. It was a nice town, they'd bought a lovely house, and Neil was doing very well with the company, but at what cost? He worked late every night, often on Saturday and Sunday afternoons, and when she saw him he always had some excuse. They had not made satisfactory love in so long, she'd almost forgotten how exciting it could be when his cock rammed and slammed her to pussy-erupting orgasm.

"It's not my fault," she'd told her mirror only this morning. "I try. I try very hard. I've never refused him, never pretended to have a headache at bedtime. I love him and I desire him. I try to show him that, every day. But he has no time for me. Is his job that important?"

Or was it possible that she simply wasn't trying hard enough? And so she'd gone shopping for the negligee, the sexy perfume. Tonight, she promised herself, when Neil came to bed, he'd find himself trapped in the bedroom with a hot-blooded, aggressive sex bomb. Melinda. And if sex still turned out to be a fizzle…

Like it was turning out right now?

"Please, honest," he sighed, "why don't you let me get some sleep? I have to be at the office a little early in the morning…"

"Why don't you just move to the fucking office?" she snapped angrily. "You think about it more than you think about me, it seems." He started to say something but she didn't give him the chance. Her hand yanked again on his cock and this time she was positive she felt the stirrings of life in her husband.

"There!" she said. "You can do it."

"Melinda, please…"

She wasn't listening. Her head dropped like a shot and she stuffed his limp penis into her mouth. Neil groaned audibly, but Melinda wasn't listening. She felt the peculiar, salty flavor of his cock against her tongue and she began to suck furiously, determined that if her hand couldn't get him hard enough to fuck, her mouth damned sure could.

"Ohhhh, baby," he moaned, and once that had meant that he was grooving on the way she ate him. Once, when their marriage had been perfect. Now it was a moan tinged with reluctance and it grated on Melinda's ears like a symptom of a life gone wrong. Be reluctant, she thought. And see if it stops me!

She pulled him with her mouth, grazing the sensitive tip of his rod with her sharp nibbling teeth. Her tongue sloshed back and forth across the soft pink stalk of Neil's dick, and her jaws sucked in to vacuum furiously all around him. In a moment she began to feel results.

Life was definitely flowing into her husband's prick. He was thicker than when she'd started sucking, and his cock not so limber and flexible. He touched the top of her head with his fingers but she didn't stop. Her jaws tightened on him and she made her tongue work harder, more wickedly around the lengthening barrel. Saliva filled Melinda's mouth, coating Neil as she worked on him, and it was thrilling as well as rewarding to feel the sudden tap-tap-a-tap of pulsation fluttering through Neil's prick.

"I can't keep it up," he warned. "I know I can't."

Yes you can! she thought. You can keep it up long enough to throw me a beautiful hot fuck, the way you used to! Melinda gobbled at the steadily-engorging tool, bathing it with her spit, loving it with her tongue as it swelled and bloomed and grew fat and thick and ponderous in her avid mouth.

Not all the magic had departed from their marriage, she reflected happily, just as Neil's cock attained its lull growth. He was nearly eight inches long, thick in proportion, with a magnificent coronal head that flared like the ace of spades.

When he was fully erect that pocket point glowed like a hot fire, red and inflamed and passionate, its skin texture smooth as velvet beneath her tongue and fingers.

She tested that velvet now with the tip of her tongue, steadying the cock with her hand while she licked its knob. A tiny dab of pre-cum formed in the slatted opening at his very pinnacle, and she sampled it appreciatively. Once upon a time she and Neil hid taken great delight in spilling their sex juices into one another's mouths. She had warm, beautiful memories of long nights spent trading oral sex back and forth, ending in hot sessions of sixty-nine that seemed to last orgasmically into the wee hours of the morning. Once, she recalled, she'd sucked five steamy gushes from his cock in a single evening while his tongue had flogged her cunt into a series of eruptions that brought Melinda moaning and screaming to the heights of full passion.

But that had been in Pittsburgh, before they'd pulled up stakes and moved, before their marriage had gone sour and stale? She supposed so. There was even a slight staleness to the taste of her husband's cock now, the kind of staleness Melinda associated with a used car and its aura of past owners. It made a good symbol of what their lives had become.

Still, he was up, bigger, harder, than he'd been in weeks, and there was a warmth in his flesh that felt marvelous against her tongue, promised delight, and stirred Melinda's own passions.

She lifted the hem of her gown. Beneath it she wore nothing, except the perfume dabbed onto her pink flesh. As she continued to suck Neil's cock Melinda sought for his hand. The fingers were stiff, the hand reluctant, but she dragged him to her crotch, applied his fingers to the hair-tufted lips of her pussy. She was wet there, and she steered him into that wetness.

"Nnnnnhhh," her moan rose as she tried to insert his stiff, unwilling fingers in her petal-like cunt, but despite the slight pain she persisted, and in a moment he had his middle finger jammed to the hilt in her pussy. More wetness flowed almost as soon as his finger penetrated her cuntal sphincter and the deeper he pierced, the wetter she became. In a moment her initial moan became a soft pulsating purr of pleasure, and she felt a tingle between the moist swollen lips of her snatch.

Her clit ached for the want of him. It had been such a long time since they'd gotten off reasonably well together. So many miserable nights of failure. Neil too tired even to try. His cock strangely impotent, struggling within her cuntal gate, shrinking wretchedly even as she writhed against him in search of the delight she was entitled to find in his arms. Oh, it was going to be good tonight, she promised herself, laying the head of his rod with her tongue, feeling a reassuring throb in the velvety flesh, a throb that promised… that virtually assured her…