Alex Ayers - The soldier_s wife

She thought about what Bob had said in his passionate voice, about thinking about her. She spread her legs and sank her finger deeply into her split, thinking about Bob's body on top of her, about his chest rubbing against her nipples, about his hands cupping her buttocks and pulling her up to meet him as he lunged down and drove her to satisfaction.

Gwen's finger whipped in and out and she thrashed on the bed, whimpering as the noises from the intercom became more frenzied. She saw Sybil and Bob above her, saying, "poor girl, poor girl," as she pumped her finger in and out of the sloppy hole, driving it all the way to the knuckle.

She let out a scream as Sybil released hers and tears came to her eyes as she stiffened and ground her frame around the finger, seeing flashes of Bob's face nibbling at her body.

Trembling, her body relaxed and she felt a wave of guilt pass over her as she slipped off into a troubled sleep.

"Turn it off," Sybil whispered.

Click.

"Beautiful, Bob. You get better at it every time."

"You're not so bad, yourself," he said, lighting a cigarette and watching the tip glow as he sucked in a deep breath.

"That was great the way your voice trembled and you sounded so sincere, like a little boy admitting a lie, when you said 'I wouldn't touch her, that would be a sin.' God, I almost croaked, Bob. Right on the spot."

"Well, it would be a sin, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, that's the fun part."

Bob took another draw off the cigarette and blew the smoke between Sybil's thighs.

"Everything look all right for tomorrow night?"

"She's prime."

"What time is Largo and the others coming?"

"Seven. I'll leave at five, be back at six thirty. That gives you an hour and a half. Don't rush it. We don't want to scare our bird away."

"No sireee," Bob said, snubbing the cigarette and hugging Sybil's warm body. "No sireee," he muttered, nipping at her breasts and rubbing her velvet pubic hair.

The heat lapped at their sun-soaked skin as the trio sat most of the morning on the patio, sipping cool drinks and occasionally diving into the refreshing pool.

Gwen lay in the chaise lounge, her hair spilled over her shoulders, her eyes shaded with sunglasses, the cool, perspiring bottom of the glass forming a wet ring on her slim tummy, one knee cocked up.

Music from the intercom wafted out into the warm afternoon air, disappearing through the breaths of hot air that exhaled on them from the south.

"Good Lord, look at the time," Sybil exclaimed standing and looking at her watch.

"What is it?" Gwen blinked and set her glass on the table.

"I almost forgot. I have an appointment at five with some of my fund-raising friends. Look, why don't you and Bob just relax here. I'll be back in no time. The catering service is bringing everything for the party about seven. I'll be back no sooner than then. So don't you fuss around, Gwen. Leave everything to them, that's what they get paid for. You just relax in the sun."

She smiled and waved her dark red fingernails at Gwen. "Don't get up. Just soak in the sun."

"Bye," Bob waved at Sybil as the woman slid into the house, her ass-cheeks flicking up and down as she moved gracefully, her back straight, her breasts aiming ahead, proud, full ripe.

"You're lucky," Gwen said as she saw Sybil pass through the living room toward the front door, dressed in a smart suit with white gloves and complementing jewelry clinging to her vivacious body.

"I know," he answered, putting the magazine down and stretching. "We enjoy life together. I guess that's the most important part of any relationship, enjoying it."

He stood and stretched again, sucking in a deep breath of air and puffing out his chest as he flexed his well-defined muscles.

He groaned and rubbed his shoulder. "Ouch, my back aches." He grimaced and bent over, touching his toes and swiveling his torso in wide arcs.

"Cramp?" Gwen asked, sitting up and studying the man's youthful body. Black, curly hair covered his chest, narrowing into a trough that plunged into his bathing suit and, she assumed, spread out to cover his testicles and pubic area.

"Yeah. Too much swimming. Guess I need a back rub."

Awkwardly, he reached around and rubbed his shoulder, grabbing a handful of flesh and kneading it.

"Can… can… I help?" Gwen offered timidly, her voice unsure.

"Hey, I'd appreciate that."

She stood, the loose top of the oversized bikini sagging and revealing the pink tops of her breasts where the sun had reddened them.

"Let's go inside, on the rug. More comfortable," Bob grunted, grimacing and walking ahead of her toward the house.

Gwen's heart pattered against her chest as she followed the man inside. The blood seemed to push out against her face, making her cheeks red and a warm glow stalk over her.

"Here's good," he said, flopping down on the rug and stretching his arms at his sides.

Timorously, Gwen knelt beside him and placed her small hands on his back. The contact with his firm, warm flesh sent shivers through her. Her hands didn't move for a moment, they just lay there resting, afraid.

"Up a bit, around the neck," he said softly, tucking his chin against his shoulder.

She let her hands slide up around his neck and squeezed, balling the flesh in her hands and pressing down against him with her fingers as she moved the skin around in a circle. Bob groaned and shifted his weight, raising his hips slightly and moaning as her hands worked faster and faster over the flesh and her breath came in short bursts.

She swallowed, trying to control the electric sensations that charged through her body. Her breasts swayed loosely in the halter as she rocked forward, pressing her palms as hard as she could against his knotted shoulder muscles. Again he squirmed, raising his hips and grinding them slightly so that his side touched her leg and pressed against her.

Her mouth was dry and she licked at her lips. A loud ringing filled her ears and the blood pumped against her temples like cymbals.

"Oh, that's so good, Gwen," he moaned, pushing his shoulders up against her hands and shifting his weight so that his side rubbed against her thigh.

"Harder, Gwen. Harder and faster."

His hips were moving as she rocked forward with all her weight and massaged the dark flesh around his shoulder.

"Dig deeper. Harder. Make it hurt." He murmured the words huskily, groaning and moaning as he had the night before into the intercom. Gwen's heart fluttered and her hands ached as she moved them deeper into his flesh, dragging the tips of her fingers across the small circle of skin and then flattening it out with the palm of her hand.

"Oh, God, Gwen. You're so good. Good."

She thought she couldn't breathe.

"B-better?" she managed, swallowing hard and hissing the words out.

"Lower. Lower." He commanded the words and Gwen complied, letting her hands work down to the center of his back.

"Is that good?"

"Lower."

She moved her hands down to the small of his back and rubbed near the top of his trunks. She thought about last night, the noises he had made with Sybil, what he had said about thinking about her, about the way he had talked to his wife in the security of his bedroom.

"M-my hands are tired," she choked, wanting to pull them away and dive into the pool to cool off.

"It still hurts, Gwen. A little more."

She couldn't say no. They had been so nice to her. She had to fight it. She was acting silly. Like a schoolgirl. She was a woman. She was married. She was…

"Down my legs, Gwen. Rub the backs of my thighs. That feels so good."

She lifted her hands off his back and looked at the hairy thighs with their muscles taut and tapering down to his bulging calves and leathery feet.