Norma Egan: The coach_s wife

She felt his huge swollen dick sliding deep into her bowels, stuffing her so tight she could hardly breathe. She thought for sure he'd tear her, injure her, but her elastic rectum expanded to accommodate him. There were two swollen cocks in her belly now, Tod's and Mike's, pumping away and separated only by a thin membrane. The two boys were hotly excited, panting and gasping.

"Aw, Christ, this is fantastic," Tod said. "I can feel your dick.."

"I can feel yours," Mike laughed. "Crazy…"

Vicky was astonished to find that the double penetration felt good to her. More than good-it felt wonderful. Years of horny longing had brought her to the point where she needed this outlandish stuffing of her belly, needed two cocks to satisfy her insatiable lust. She gave a wet gurgle of excitement, and her cunt creamed furiously.

"Hey, baby, you gettin' off on this?" Tod panted.

What was the point in denying it? Her reputation was mined, her marriage wrecked. She had nothing to lose.

"Yessss," she whined, "Yessss!"

She heard the mocking laughter, saw Kent and Jim crawling closer to watch her get it in the ass and cunt-and she didn't care. She'd lost everything but her lust, so she'd live for that. Screeching her pleasure, she began to work her body in hot sensual jerks to the double probing in her belly. Mike's thick meat reamed deeply in her aroused asshole, and Tod's stiff cock jerked juicily in her gushing hot cunt. She began to come, and she howled without shame.

"Yes, ball me!" she wailed. "Ball my cunt, ball my ass… Ahhh, God, yessss!"

Suddenly the front door crashed open. Vicky and the boys staffed and jerked their heads around to stare at the intruder.

It was Coach Biff Benson, his face contorted with rage and shock. Big veins bulged in his neck as he stared at his wife and the two boys fucking her in her cunt and asshole. He shuddered and clenched his fists.

"Whore," he bellowed, "you rotten dirty whore…"

Vicky lurched away from her young partner and began pulling on her clothes. Biff watched her with deep contempt. "I'm divorcing you," he said coldly. "I don't wanta be married to no tramp."

Vicky and the boys felt the obvious retort on the tips of their tongues: Buff had just been enjoying himself with four young girls, so where did he get off, criticizing Vicky? But all of them knew Coach Benson too well. He believed in the double standard, and what was right for him was wrong for his wife. There was no point in trying to change his mind.

"How long has this been going on?" he demanded, seizing Vicky's arm roughly.

"What does it matter," said Vicky dully, "if you're going to divorce me anyway? Just take me home, Biff, and I'll start packing my things."

Just then the front door flew open, and there stood Judy, the smallest and shyest of the cheerleaders. Her dark eyes flashed hatred at Biff Benson.

"You better be nice to your wife, Coach," she said coldly. "You're going to need her."

"Whaddya mean?" said Biff. "Whaddya mean busting in here, Judy?"

"I've got some bad news for you, Coach," she said. "You're through. You're finished with coaching here and everywhere else. I talked the other girls into signing a complaint with me. We're going to tell the school board everything you did to us."

Biff's beefy face went chalky pale. "Hey, now, Judy," he said soothingly, "don't do that. We can work something out. I got money-"

"No," Judy said decisively. "No amount of money in the world can make up for what you did to me, you animal. Face it, Coach-you're all washed up."

Biff sank to his knees and cried like a baby. His wife and his students watched him with expressions of loathing and contempt.

Three days later Vicky and Biff were on their way to California and a new life. Biff had been fired by the school board and would have to seek some other kind of work. He'd begged Vicky to stand by him, and since she had no other prospects, she'd agreed. Her future seemed as bleak as his.

"I used to do a little welding, some garage work," Biff was saying. "There's always a call for that."

"Oh, you'll find something," said Vicky listlessly. "Don't worry about it. You're not an old man."

Biff sighed. He looked years older, stoop shouldered and defeated. "I'm forty-five," he said, "and that ain't no spring chicken."

"You'll find work," Vicky said firmly. "Of course you will. But that doesn't solve everything, Biff. What about us?"

He looked at her dully. "I told ya, I'm willing to forget about what you did. I guess everybody's entitled to fuck up once in their life. Anyhow, I need you. I need you to take care of me. I don't wanta be alone, Vicky."

She nodded. "I don't, either. But you never want to touch me again, right? I'm okay to cook for you, wash your clothes, keep your house, but you don't want me in your bed."

Biff avoided her eyes. "I couldn't touch you," he said, "not after all them guys had you…"

Vicky stared ahead grimly. So that's how it would be-while Buff played around with other women, she was to stay home, a wife in name only, lonely and horny. She didn't think she could stand it, but what the could she do?

Par down the road they spotted a young couple trying to thumb a ride. "Goddam hippies," Biff muttered.

Vicky's eyes lit up suddenly, and she placed her hand on Biff's arm. "Slow down," she said. "Pick them up."

He gawked at her. "You crazy? They probably got lice. Or else they'll mug us."

"Oh, Buff, for God's sake," Vicky said impatiently, "get rid of your stupid old prejudices. They're nice clean kids. And we need them. If we're not going to make love to each other-" She trailed of r, wondering if Biff would get the point.

He was never very quick on the uptake. They were almost next to the hitchhiking couple before his eyes brightened and he began to put on the brake. He leered at Vicky. "I gotcha," he said.

Vicky smiled cynically. At least there was one thing she and Biff could always agree on-the need for sex.

Biff pulled over, rolled down his window, and shouted, "Hey, you two want a ride?"

They came running over to the car. Vicky was pleased with her choice. The boy was in his early twenties, with clean brown hair and a beard and a trim lanky body. The girl was a well-stacked blonde of perhaps eighteen. They were dressed in clean jeans and shirts and were carrying backpacks.

"How far you going, Mister?" said the boy.

"About as far as you want," said Biff. "We're heading for L.A."

"Far out," the boy said. "That's where we're going. We can help pay for the gas, share the driving.."

"We'll work it out," said Biff. "Hop in."

Their names were Rod and Carol. They seemed to be experienced travelers. They discussed sports avidly with Biff, and. Carol and Vicky exchanged notes on housework. Vicky perceived that these two, in spite of their youth, were hip to everything.

Biff must have seen it, too, for it wasn't long before he pulled up at a motel. He fished in his pocket, then turned around to face Rod.

"We'll be glad to take you to L.A.," he said carefully, "at our expense. What we really want is company at night-if you see what I mean." He handed Rod a fifty-dollar bill. "How about it?"

Rod and Carol exchanged a brief glance. "Sure," said Rod. "Sure, we could handle that,"

Vicky was surprised at the smoothness of the transaction. After the exchange of money, they all went into the motel, into a double room, and began to undress as if they'd known each other all their lives. Biff and Carol gravitated to one alcove, Rod and Vicky to the other. They were separated only by an open archway, and they still chatted back and forth.

And so an. They chatted as they took off their clothes, but presently the talk died down and they began to really notice each other for the first time. It scorned appropriate to notice, since they were about to make love.