James Evers - Hungry wives

"Oh shit, Marge. Here… there… it's all the same. I'm proud of both of us for just getting up and doing it! And I'll tell you – by the time I get through with Tom's welcome home tonight he won't be able to even think of another woman!"

"Aaaaaaaaaamen!"

The girls raised their coffee cups in mock toast. No sooner had the mugs come together in a dull, thudding clunk, than the room was filled with the delicate sound of chiming bells.

"You think it's a heavenly omen?" Marge giggled.

"NO!" Jenny replied. "I think it's the doorbell." Jenny skipped to the door and peered through the tiny peep-hole. "Oh God, Marge it's Benjamin Stiller!"

"Oh that's perfect! Here we are discussing sex, and up walks the salesman's answer to Casanova! I'm telling you, it is an omen!"

Suddenly Jenny was bubbling with excitement. "MARGE! Why don't we have a little fun! I've always wondered…"

"Hold on, Jenny… it's too close to home for me!"

"oooooohh Bullshit! You opened things up for me, now it's my turn to open things up for you! ARISE, MARGE SOMMERS! Prepare to meet the enemy on the home front!"

Jenny's enthusiasm was too infectious, and Marge could not resist. "Okay! I hope he's ready for what's coming!"

"Great! Look – run upstairs and dig up something sexy… it looks silly with me in a nightie, and you in your traveling clothes. Find something that will drive him crazy… okay?"

"Have no fear, m'dear… I promise you, after I make my entrance he'll be helpless." Marge gave Jenny's hand a playful squeeze, and disappeared up the stairs.

Jenny quickly ran to the door and opened it. "Why Mr. Stiller! How are you?"

Benjamin Stiller stood for a moment, carefully studying the lines of her scantily clad body in the doorway.

Ben was a well-built, pleasant-looking man, with curling brown hair and a mustache. He had once been loud that he looked like Errol Flynn, and had since cultivated the image. The resemblance was fractional, but enough to earn him a certain amount of sexual consideration by his more frustrated female clients.

"Mr. Stiller."

"Ben!"

"Ben… why don't you come in? I think I may be needing some of your stuff today."

"Good! Always glad to lighten the load of the American housewife!" He strode confidently into the living room, and proceeded to seat himself on the couch, his display case spread before him on the coffee table. "Anything particular you're looking for?"

"No," she said, seating herself next to him on the sofa. "Nothing specific… What have you got?"

"Anything you could want in the way of household gadgets… lotions… cosmetics… you name it!"

"What do you have that's new? I'm in the mood for something different."

"Well… I've got a new herbal body cream," he chirped, reaching into his case and withdrawing a large plastic bottle. "Here, smell it."

"Mmmmmm! It's heavenly… may I try some?"

"Go ahead."

Ben watched as Jenny spread tile cream gently over her arm, rubbing it into her skin. His eyes wandered over her body, studying the gentle curves that peeked so provocatively through the diaphanous material of her nightie.

"Oh, it's lovely," Jenny purred. "I want to see how it feels on my body. Put some on my back, would you?" She turned around, raising the nightie, and exposing the flesh of her naked back to his hungry eyes.

He filled his palms with the rich liquid and began rubbing it uncertainly across her body, watching as her skin absorbed the soothing oil. His cock twitched desperately in his pants, straining against the taut fabric as his hands tingled with the touch of her tanned flesh.

Encouraged by Jenny's soft rocking and gentle sighs, he began working his hands around her sides, creeping in slow, inching steps toward her milky, swaying tits. But he was cut off abruptly by the sound of footsteps. Convinced it was her husband, he removed his hands with lightning speed, placing them in his lap to cover the prominent swell of his cock.

His fear turned to relief at the sight of Marge's feminine form, and then to bold amazement as the reality of her appearance dawned on his struggling consciousness. She was standing, her arm cocked on the banister, and clad only in a short towel that reached just above her nipples and barely below her crotch.

"Hello, Mr. Stiller."

"Ben…" he squeaked, his voice quivering.

Even Jenny had to stare. She took in the startling presence of Marge's luscious body, and tried to imagine the effect it was having on Ben. And suddenly she was filled with an aching desire to share this seduction with Marge, the two of them, dizzy with the power of their sexuality, propelled by their boldness, molding his desires like two master sculptors would mold a lump of clay.

"Marge, I'm glad you came down… Ben was just showing me some fantastic cream. Here, smell."

Marge walked over and stood next to Ben. She bent down to smell the fragrance still clinging to Jenny's hand, and so doing, allowed the towel to raise up behind her, exposing the rounded swell of her ass to Ben's thirsting eyes.

"My God, that's beautiful," she sighed. "How does it feel?"

"Try it."

"Okay!" Marge reached down and spread the lotion on her hands. Then she raised her inside leg up and placed it on the couch next to Ben. He gasped as the towel separated to give him an unobstructed view of her moist cunt, a thin gleam of juice trickling between the hair-lined lips of her flowering pussy.

She began rubbing the cream across her thigh, her body shivering in delight. "Oh damn, it's wonderful! Ben, would you be an angel and put some on my other leg?"

Jenny poured the liquid into his trembling hands and practically pushed him towards Marge's firmly posted thigh. He finally drew up to the column of flesh, his face even closer to the hairy bush of her twat, its aroma reaching out to scramble any semblance of thought in his mind.

Slowly he began rubbing his oiled hands up and down the tapered perfection of her thigh, his hand climbing higher with each stroke. Ben's breath grew rough and halting as his hands traced the rising spread of her leg, separating upward until his hand could feel the grazing touch of her pubic hair.

Marge was shivering in a limbo of pure sensual delight. The icy coolness of the oil was the perfect counterpoint of her burning flesh. She could feel the tiny streams of juice tickling down the soft inside of her thigh, only to be swept up in his stroking hands and held only a hair's breadth from the boiling chamber of her, cunt.

"Jenny, give me some more. This is too heavenly for words!"

Jenny poured the lotion into Marge's cupped hands, and then gasped in stunned response as Marge pulled the towel from her body and began rubbing the moist cream over her gently heaving tits and belly.

Ben's attention was captured by the falling towel, and his eyes slowly trailed upward, following her hands as they climbed her stomach and rose to trace the upward swell of her huge orbs. He could see her head cocked back, her eyes tightly shut, and her mouth open as her hands laid a glinting carpet of oil across her bobbing tits.

Jenny almost felt sorry for him. His cock throbbed painfully beneath his tight pants. The heavy drops of his gushing pre-cum had soaked their way clear through his shorts to dot the front of his trousers with dark patches of moisture.

Jenny leaned over and began working at the metallic zipper of his fly, as much from desire as pity. "It's not fair of us to use all of your lotion and not let you feel how nice it is too."

Jenny worked the zipper down, and spreading the folds of his pants, reached into his shorts to remove the mass of his surging prick. She tingled at the first electric contact of his hot cock-flesh, and thrilled as it sprang from the tight prison of his clothing like a jack-in-the-box.