Ron Taylor: Wife on the prowl

Melinda squirmed against him, loving the feel of his finger in her twat. His fingers were long, not as thick, perhaps, as they could have been, but her pussy was glued fast around the probing intruder, sucking it up, milking it with eager, happy muscular twitches. And when he reamed about in her, the pressure excited and withdrawn upon her clit sent tingles of excited anticipation through Melinda's entire body.

Yes! she thought, Yes! This is the way it's supposed to be! She fed more of his cock into her mouth, swallowing about half his eight inches, and her hand squeezed passionately on the tight sac of his scrotum. Up and down her head raced, sucking, vacuuming. Stay hard, she radioed to Neil's prick. Stay hard so you can fuck my ass off, you beautiful piece of flesh!

His finger had begun to work with some activity in her pussy, and sticky juice oozed from her parted cunt lips. Melinda felt the hot wet drops collecting in her pubic hair, kept them on the base of Neil's finger when he plumbed her fully, and she squirmed into the angle of finger-thrusts, eagerly accepting him in her hot pussy. Oh, God, hadn't he thought of her once, all this time? Hadn't he realized that she craved him, desired him madly, that his poor performance in bed the past few months was driving her crazy?

Oh, maybe they were over it, finally! He was throbbing, at full hard-on now, and it was fantastic. Her mouth we crammed with him, and soon her pussy would be, too.

Melinda withdrew her head slowly, allowing his cock to ease from her mouth. Frothy beads of split coated him up and down, and he was glowing red at the tip again, the way she wanted to see him. Her fist tightened around the base of the penis, squeezing the shaft, the edge of her hand grinding down upon his nuts, and she tossed her head, shaking halt from her eyes. Melinda's skin tingled and she knew that her face and breasts were suffused with deep sexual blush. Oh, she wanted him to see it, to know how hot she was for him! They could restore the magic if they both tied!

"Look, darling," she panted, stroking his rigid erection. "Look how big and hard you are. Oh, it's so beautiful!"

"I…"

"Don't talk," she murmured, closing his lips with her index finger. She rose onto her knees, his finger falling out of her pussy, and Melinda hastily removed her green nightie. Her tits jiggled as she pulled off the gown, and she didn't have to look down to know that her nipples were stiff and pointing erected with the tremulous desire that, raged inside her body. "Look at me," she whispered. "Look at my body. It's all yours. Take it." She offered him a hand, and he took it. His palm was moist and cool, so cool, clutched in the heat of her own.

Melinda bent low, and she kissed the tip of her husband's cock. Good boy, she thought. You came through at just the right time. She ran a hand up and down the stiff barrel of the prick, and she rubbed the swollen knob against her cheek, lips slightly parted as she breathed across Neil's tool.

"Uuuughhh!!" he cried suddenly, and she felt him twitch against her cheek. Melinda's head snapped back in alarm, but it was too late. She didn't even have time to close her eyes defensively. Neil's cock erupted, spitting gobs of cum into her face, her hair. It splattered her skin and hung there in thick, sticky drops.

"No!!!" she screamed and, as he continued to squirt, she closed a fist around Neil's cock, and whipped him into her mouth. Twitching still, he emptied himself there, and as the last spurt gushed from him across her tongue, all the stiffness vanished. His cock seemed to melt in her mouth and, suck as she might, Melinda found herself nursing a limp, useless tool that tasted vividly of its premature explosion.

Neil patted her head, and she released him. There were tears in her eyes as she looked at the withered dick. He smiled weakly, shrugged in resignation. "I told you I couldn't," he said, but his eyes were averted, unwilling to look directly into hers.

Melinda touched her face, felt the sticky cum-drops that had begun to ooze down her smooth skin. She felt disappointment, and not a little disgust. Again her dreams had turned to shit at virtually the moment of fulfillment. "You told me," she agreed, her voice tight in her throat.

Neil pulled up the sheets she had cast aside, and he settled upon his side, away from her. "Well," he said, "I guess I'll go to sleep now."

Melinda picked up her discarded silk negligee. Ninety dollars wasted, she thought. But at least it had one use. She began to wipe the cum off her face with the sexy gown she'd hoped would remind her husband of his duties and pleasure. Still wiping, she got up from the bed and went down the hall to the bathroom. Even before she had left the mom she could hear Neil breathing softly, evenly, in his sleep.

First she washed her face, toweling away the dotted cum in her hair. Even so, she was a mess, and first thing in the morning she'd have to shampoo and rinse. Damn him! Squirting in her face like a high-school boy on his first hot date! He was no boy. He was a man. Or was he? Had his duties at the office perhaps turned her husband into some kind of pathetic frump, good only for sitting at a desk and looking very executive?

"I don't know," she told the Melinda in the mirror. "I've tried everything. Has… has he just lost interest in me?"

She didn't know, and neither did her mirror image. Both of them shook their heads simultaneously, one sad face staring back at the other. Even her tile looked sad, the nipples drooping like downcast eyes. She cupped her breasts from beneath and stared hopefully at the mirror. It didn't help.

She stepped back, surveying her naked body, intent on catching the slightest flaw in her appearance – anything that might have turned off her husband, caused him to lose interest in her. She could see nothing. At twenty-nine, she looked almost as she had the day she married Neil, four years ago. Her hair was still lustrous and shimmering, her face smooth, her eyes bright but candid. And her figure? She hadn't put on a pound in years. She could still wear the clothes she'd worn in high school – except that those styles were out of fashion now. Her tits were still full and high, nicely separated, capped in small dark nipples that were perky when she was perky, sorry when she was sorry. Her waist was trim and long, flaring out into a woman's hips and ass. Below, that proud butt long, slender legs carried her with a smooth-stepping gracefulness. She walked well, she danced. Well or at least she had, once. Neil hadn't take her dancing in a couple of years. Something else he'd lost interest in.

She was a brunette, tinged in natural highlights of red, and her hair was beautiful. Melinda scooped it up, swirled it around her face, hoping it would add a little note of gaiety to her somber features.

She looked down, sadly, at the small, almost perfect V of hair at her loins. It was brunette too, darker than the hair on top but tighter-curled. Right now it looked like the "before" of a shampoo commercial. The frizzies. Even her bush reflected the rest of Melinda.

She ran a hand down her body and it came to rest idly upon the slightly prominent mound of her pussy. Her fingers leafed through the dark thick curls of hair and she found herself touching the warm, still moist flesh. God, she'd come so close! Her cunt had been dripping impatiently as Neil's finger worked in and out, and in her mouth his cock had swelled and blossomed like a flowering orchid. And then – just as she was ready to mount her man and ride their mutual passion to a tumultuous breaking – he'd… he'd… oh, it made her sick to think of it! His hard-on, so carefully nurtured, so happily arrived, bursting in her face, spewing semen everywhere except where she most craved it – in the churning depths of an orgasmic pussy. Melinda looked up. She really ought to take off her makeup. There was no need to be glamorous now. Not for a sleeping husband.