Allen Whitten - The teaser next door

"Okay, Wendy. Now I'm going to fuck her. Thank you. For everything."

She was a bit disappointed that she could not taste the pungent liquid of his cum, but he had given her a thrilling fuck earlier, and she supposed that she had no real complaints. She patted him on the ass.

"Thank you."

He crawled forward on his knees until his thick cock contacted Margaret's pussy. She lay still on the carpet still weary from the exciting climax she had had from his tongue. But as his cock speared into her pink pussy flesh, she jerked as though an electric shock had coursed through her. She flopped under the inexorable drive of his prick, like a fish out of water. He seesawed his ass back and forth stroking her clinging flesh, bringing her more and more to life until she threw her arms about his neck and screamed out her pleasure. Each plunge brought another scream, and it wasn't long before his incessant fucking forced her to give vent to the loudest scream of all.

Wendy knew that she had gotten her rocks off then.

She got up, found her jeans and slipped them on.

Professor Wynn was still fucking his wife when Wendy eased out of the library and headed for the front door. She heard the orgasmic bellow of Margaret Wynn once more and then Martin Wynn's voice above everything.

"Shoot your jism! Ahhhhhh!"

How did the line of poetry go? No, it was better if she turned it around.

"Fuck her, Martin, not with a whimper, but with a bang."

She was asleep that night when the telephone rang.

She shook her head to clear it of cobwebs, and then answered it. It was Margaret Wynn.

"Wendy, I called to tell you something."

"Oh, what's that?"

"I want to thank you. I'm stealing a moment right now while Martin is in the bathroom cleaning his cock."

Her voice was low and conspiratorial.

"He's been fucking and sucking me all evening. I'm so glad that the speaker didn't show up. And I want to thank you. Fucking you has made a new man out of him. And most importantly a new woman out of me."

"That's great."

"Damn right it is. And in just a few minutes I'm going to go down on him."

"You'll enjoy cocksucking. Be sure and take the cum in your mouth. It's got a pleasant taste."

"I intend to. But I just wanted to tell you that I hold no ill feelings about this afternoon."

"Great."

"Just one thing."

"What's that?"

"I'd rather you weren't alone with my husband any more. I want him to save all his cum for me. He's quite a fucker."

"You can say that again," she said, remembering her many orgasms under the tutelage of his masterful prick. "He is quite a fucker."

The Halliburtons came back from their trip into the mountains late Sunday night. They were worn and weary, with slight sunburns. They proclaimed the beauties of spring in the mountains, and recounted to their daughter all she had missed.

Wendy was appropriately sad for all the fun that had eluded her.

She did not make mention of the three men who had fucked her over the weekend.

School was a bore for most of the week. Finals were very close and the teachers were hurried and harried by the dread that they would not get to the "end of the book". Wendy could have saved some of them some worry; there was no possible way to cover the remaining chapters. So American history would do well to get past World War I, economics was bogged down in the redundancy of federal regulatory agencies, and she had no idea where they were in calculus.

The end result was that she didn't give a damn one way or the other. Her grades were good enough to graduate, and that was all that mattered. As far as school was concerned.

As far as Wendy's sex life was concerned there were more pressing affairs.

She couldn't deny that she had been satisfied by the stiff pricks exploring her pussy, but she wasn't sure she had her head straight. She was still confused about her own role in the age old ritual. Could she give herself over completely to a man? But what if he were weak, uncertain of himself? Did she then turn and assume command, coax and wheedle him into fucking her.

She still had no answer. Maybe her next man would provide her with a solution to her dilemma. She would just have to wait and see.

But who was to be her next man? What neighbor would she now choose?

Circumstances had brought her two of them.

Circumstances brought her Denny Stewart.

And did not take long to do it.

It was Thursday night. Wendy and her friend Vicki Stewart were just leaving the library after finishing some research for their last paper in English class. It was still early, and both girls were pleased that they had finished so quickly.

"Glad that's over," said Wendy.

Vicki murmured agreement. She seemed awfully pensive tonight, which was unusual. Vicki was normally one of the most outgoing girls in Fulkner High School. Raven-haired and petite, she seemed like a scaled-down model of older girls, and few who did not know her would have guessed that she was a senior in high school. She had pert little tits and a winsome smile, and was quite popular among most of the students because of her outgoing personality.

"Hey, Vicki, what's bugging you? You haven't uttered ten words tonight."

Vicki tried to smile, but Wendy could tell it was an effort.

"Nothing important. Just some family problems have gotten me down."

Wendy's car was parked just ahead.

"Want to talk about them, get 'em off your chest. I'll be glad to lend an ear."

Vicki smiled again, this time for real. They climbed in the car, and before long they were heading toward Vicki's house.

"It's my brother Denny. He's having marital problems. His wife Julie left him, and he's started drinking."

"Gee, I'm sorry about that, Vicki. They always made such a good-looking couple." Wendy had been a member of the wedding party, a server. She might have been a bridesmaid, except that the bride was wise enough not to let someone as attractive as Wendy draw attention from her.

"I wish I knew what came between them, but both of them are being very tight-lipped about the whole thing. Julie won't even talk to me, and Denny just mumbles and swells up like a blowfish anytime I mention her name to him."

"Perhaps someone outside the family might reach them. They might even have to go to a marriage counselor."

Wendy knew both Denny and his estranged wife very well, and could not imagine what difficulties they could be having. She knew that Vicki was very close to her older brother, even though there was about seven or eight years difference between their ages. Denny had been good friends with Wendy's brother Gordon, who had been killed in a car accident over four years ago, and had always been hanging round the Halliburton house when he and Gordon had been mischievous teenagers.

"That's a great idea, Wendy. If we can identify the problem, maybe we can find a way to help solve it." Vicki's voice was breathless, excited by the prospect of getting her brother's problem solved.

"I don't think we are the ones to do the prying. If his family can't help, then you don't need any amateurs butting in. Tell him to get a pro for this kind of thing."

"He won't go to anyone like that. He's already vetoed it. But he might talk to you." Vicki's house was just around the corner, but the dainty, dark-haired girl motioned for Wendy to go on past. "Denny lives only a block away. Let's drop in and see him."

"Okay, we'll go," Wendy agreed. "But don't go expecting him to spill the story just because I'm there. I've the feeling that it'll work just the opposite. Seeing me, he'll clam up completely."

"You can do it, Wendy. All the fellows at school would do anything you ask. Just use some of that old Halliburton charm on him."