Frank Brown - The naughty neighbor wives

"Oh, thank God!" she muttered to herself. She pulled her finger out of her cunt, then pulled her arm out from under the sheet. A string of tingles ran through her pussy. She groaned.

She held her finger up. It dripped. She shoved her finger into her mouth, sucking off the tart, honey-like pussyjuice. Mmmmm! Cuntjuice was tasty. Strange that she hadn't realized this before. She had tasted her own pussyjuice once, a long time ago, on that day when her first boyfriend had seduced her, had eaten her pussy and had fucked her. She'd only been a teenager then. That had been so long ago. That was why she, had forgotten what pussy tasted like – she'd only tasted it once and that had been so long ago. Then, this afternoon, she had tasted pussy again, and she'd remembered.

It was all Carmen's doing. Carmen! In a way, Liz hated that woman, hated her for being so uninhibited, so smug, so absolutely shameless. Carmen was worse than a whore. But, at the same time, Liz admired the woman, envied her, even loved her – and all for the very same reasons that she hated Carmen. Carmen had come like a burst of sunshine into Liz's somewhat dreary life. Until today Liz hadn't realized how glum, how stagnant, how zestless, almost feelingless, her life was becoming. Carmen, having brought the bad news, so to speak, was the villain. But, at the same time, Carmen was her savior, having shown Liz the sunshine, having reawakened Liz's youthful feelings.

"Well, Goddamn, Stanley, what are you doing?"

"Twiddling with my cock."

"You better not be. Hurry up, will you?"

"Just a few more minutes."

He'd better be only a few more minutes, Liz thought, or something is going to short-circuit lit my pussy and it'll go up in a puff of smoke. Lord, she was horny! She hadn't felt this horny since her teenage days or since the early days of her marriage. Carmen's antics this afternoon had set a fire in her, a perpetually burning fire. Liz had been jittery all evening, ready to jump out of her panties, crazy to get to bed and fuck.

The entire evening had been colored by the events of this afternoon, her excitement carrying over. Liz suddenly felt more alive than she had in years. Stan looked better to her now than he had in a long time. And Lonnie had looked like an absolute doll to her this evening. She had hugged and kissed him warmly, and her euphoria had seemingly rubbed off on the boy, for his usually shy, downcast eyes blazed like stars. His blond hair shimmered as if a halo surrounded his head, and he couldn't stop smiling.

"What are you so happy about?" Stan had asked the teen.

"Nothing," Lonnie answered.

"And you, too," Stan said, looking at Liz. "You're acting like you just met Paul Newman. What's with you guys? Am I missing something I shouldn't be?"

Then Liz had felt her cheeks flush. Lord, if you only knew! she had thought.

What would Stan's reaction be were he to find out about the events of this afternoon? Stan wasn't a prissy husband. In fact, Liz suspected that he played around behind her back from time to time. However, she wondered how he would have reacted had he walked in on Carmen and herself this afternoon, or if he had walked in while she was fucking the teen's cock. She imagined him having all sorts of reactions, ranging from a chuckle to a stroke.

As her thinking stood now, she was in no way anxious that Stan should find out. And he wouldn't find out – why should he? Carmen surely wouldn't tell, and Glen, having been well bribed by Carmen, surely wouldn't tell anybody. Carmen had assured her.

Liz fell a certain confidence in Carmen, felt confident that Carmen knew what she was doing and that Carmen could handle any complications that might arise. In any event, Liz had her fingers crossed. She looked forward to possibly getting into Glen's pants again sometime, if Carmen would arrange it, and she looked forward to fucking the teen without qualms. Somehow Carmen would safeguard Liz's secret rendezvous with the horny teen. Why she trusted Carmen as she did, Liz didn't know. Perhaps she was being foolish. Perhaps she would come to her senses tomorrow and regret what she had done this afternoon, but right now she had neither regrets nor guilt.

Liz attributed her change of attitude toward Carmen to the fucking she had received from Glen. She had fallen in love with the fucker the moment she laid eyes on him. How could she help herself? The teen had big brown fawn's eyes peeking out from behind his thick forelocks. He had a skinny, but virile, tanned body, all his muscles defined and quivering with excitement. And he had a big cock, as big as any man's, sticking straight up out of the narrowest of hips, tight hips. When the teen had come he had newly blown her off his cock with the force of his squirts. Liz honestly hadn't felt anybody shoot into her that forcefully since her first fucker. Liz wanted more of Glen's stiff cock, more of his hot hard spurts, and with Carmen's help she could have more.

Without Carmen's uninhibited antics this afternoon. Liz wouldn't be lying here in bed, suddenly aching for her husband as she hadn't ached for him in years. Liz felt rejuvenated and as lusty as an adolescent. She had Carmen to thank – Carmen, the woman she loved and hated, admired and envied.

"Well, Liz," Stan said, emerging from the bathroom, "here I am." He wore only his underwear, and his flesh shined with the light coating of baby oil he always massaged into his skin after his shower.

"Don't turn off the light, darling," Liz said. "I wanna look at you tonight."

Stan smoothed his wet, but neatly combed hair. "Anything you say, Liz. Shall I dispense with these immediately?" He snapped the waistband of his underwear.

"Please do."

Stan slipped out of his underwear quickly and dropped them to the floor where he stood. His cock hung limply over his swollen balls.

Liz smiled. His balls looked really plump tonight. She and Stan hadn't fucked in three or four days. When he came tonight he would really shoot a load. She uncovered herself, displaying for him her completely naked body. The smell of cunt rose in the air like perfume.

Stan's cock swelled, began to twitch its way up as his prickshaft hardened. His cock stood up, pointing straight out from his body. The fleshy prickhead blushed deeply, piss-slit lips beginning to part. He walked toward the bed, his prick wagging like a stiff snake.

Liz sighed. She felt a trickle of hot pussyjuice roll down between her asscheeks. She held up her arms, welcoming her husband. His firm warm body covered her, his prick branding her belly. She moaned and kissed him.

"Darling, I want you to fuck me. I want it so bad."

Stan's face turned red. He breathed on her hotly. "Jesus, you're hot tonight. Somebody feed you some Spanish fly or something?"

Liz giggled. "Well, I don't know. All I know is that I want you inside me. I wanna feel your prick in my cunt."

"How bad do you want it?"

"Real bad."

"Bad enough for a doggie fuck?"

"Mmm, yes. I feel like a real bad girl tonight." She did feel bad, wicked. She was in the mood for getting fucked from behind like a bitch. Stan loved to fuck her that way. He claimed she was tighter that way, that it turned him on more. But she only allowed him to fuck her that way occasionally – when she felt naughty, dirty, like a bad girl, or when she wanted something from Stan and could use her upturned ass to barter for what she wanted.

Stan kissed her, raised up off her, and turned her over. "To you you're a bad girl, but to me you're a good girl. Jesus, look at that sexy ass!" He grabbed her hips and pulled her up onto her hands and knees.

Liz felt really sexy. She could feel the cool air lick between her asscheeks where her pussyjuice had run. She arched her back, turning her ass up high, giving her husband a good view of her ass and pussy.