James Evers - Hungry wives

For a long time the two women remained still on the floor, Jenny huddled closely in Marge's arms. She lay there, the thoughts sailed through Marge's mind. I don't believe I'm sitting here holding another woman, a woman I've had sex with, and enjoying it. God, has it come to this?

Marge finally stirred. "I'm sorry honey," she said, kissing Jenny gently on the cheek. "I've really got to get home. Laura's leaving for a week, and I want to spend some time with her before she goes." Marge rose and began dressing.

Jenny watched her for several minutes, uncertain of whether or not to speak. "Marge… can we… can we do this again?"

Marge paused a long time before answering. She knew she was supposed to feel guilty, or repulsed, or at least unwilling, but none of these emotions would surface. All she could feel was satisfied, and grateful for such an open expression of love.

"I don't know, honey. We'll see."

Jenny was encouraged by her partially receptive manner. "Oh, Marge, I want this to happen again. I need to feel wanted. I need to feel someone desires me."

"Believe me, I understand."

"I mean… I'm not a lesbian or… I'd take another man if I could… but I don't have the courage, and I don't think you do either."

Marge wondered for a second if she did. "I know Jenny, I know."

"So… all we've got is each other, and I promise you, no one will ever know. Please, Marge… please… say you will!"

"I've got to think, Jenny. We'll see." Marge walked over and kissed Jenny gently on the lips. "I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay."

Marge closed the front door of her house, and fell back against the hard surface, her head thudding lightly on the large wooden slab. In an effort to dispel the ranging confusion within her, she heaved a full, gut-contracting sigh that ended up more like a growl than a breath.

"Good God, what a day," she mumbled, her voice filled with irony. "Masturbation, and homosexuality – two mortal sins, and ft's not even three o'clock yet. Dear me, what would the folks say?"

The image of her parents suddenly filled her foggy brain. Her mother was standing, tears in her eyes, her arms held out pathetically in abject misery at her daughter's sinful behavior. Her father was laughing lewdly, his tongue hanging out, his hand listing the glowing shaft of his huge cock.

Marge laughed at this surrealistic creation of her taxed mind. "Oh God! I need to talk to someone, and soon. I need hhhheeeeelllppppp!"

At first she was kidding, but soon, the idea of talking to someone began to sound good. But who? Roger is out of the question. Jenny is as confused as I am. And then she remembered her daughter's offer. Of course, Laura! She's into all that psychology stuff. Maybe, just maybe, she can really help.

Feeling encouraged for the first time that day, she quickly climbed the stairs, and approached her daughter's room. As she neared Laura's partially open door, she could detect the sounds of heavy, labored breathing. She sensed immediately that, rather than catching them in some awkward, youthful embrace, she should come back later, but she could not resist the temptation to take one quick peek.

She was not prepared for what she saw.

Fortunately she caught herself before the piercing shriek could escape. Through the open door she could see the sprawling, naked bodies on Laura's bed, the source of their groaning fully revealed to her amazed eyes. They were making love, and Laura's mouth was totally occupied in licking and sucking Larry's swollen cock.

Marge immediately stepped away from the slight opening, and leaned against the wall, carefully avoiding any noise. Her first reaction was shame. She blushed at the embarrassing idea that either one of them might have caught her watching their obscene act.

But this quickly gave way to a rising anger as she realized that it was her daughter in there. The thought of Laura, making love to a man, filled her with a confusion of maternal responsibilities that she had never faced before.

"Good God, what the hell should I do?" she whispered. "Should I go in there? Should I wait? Should she be punished? What the fuck do I do?"

She struggled with the questions, turning each one over and over in her mind until she felt her anger slipping. And now, a new emotion crept in. As she played the picture of her daughter's sinful act in her head, she was suddenly aware of her overwhelming feeling of shock.

Not only was Laura having sex, but she was sucking Larry's cock. At sixteen, her daughter was reveling in an act that she had only tried once or twice in thirty-five years. And God only knows what they're doing now!

It was this last thought that brought on the final, and remaining, emotion: curiosity. Standing where she was, she could hear the guttural moans, broken only by occasional nondescript talking and laughter. She had to know. She had to see what they were doing.

Battling her protesting sense of propriety, she resumed to her position at the door. She bit her lip nervously, and cracked the door slightly wider, giving herself a fuller view of the erotic scene before her. And now she stared uneasily, feeling like an underage adolescent at a peep show.

She could see and hear them both clearly, and felt herself riveted to the raw, innocent passion in front of her. Marge tried hard to appreciate the youthful love scene. She wanted to enjoy the symphonic tones of their low, rhythmic moans, and the gentle play of light across their sweat-soaked bodies, but she could not. Instead, she was stifling yet another scream as she gaped in horror at the new arrangement of their lusting bodies.

Laura was kneeling, her face crushed against the pastel print of the sheet, and her hips held high in the air. Larry was behind her, his knees resting between her widespread legs. His tongue was running in wide circles across her buttocks, pausing only to suck at the quivering, white flesh of her firm, adolescent ass.

"Oh Larry," she moaned, "I love the feel of your tongue there! Oh God, don't stop! Sometimes I think my ass is the most sensitive part of my body… and I love it when your mouth is there."

Her words inflamed him. His hands came up to crush the tight, fleshy pillows of her ass-cheeks, and his tongue slid over, nestling itself into the very top of her deep crack. His nails tore into her taut flesh, his hands opening the twin mounds as far as they would go.

Laura screamed, her body trembling in frantic desire as she felt the tip of his hot tongue skate down the deep furrow, and come to rest an the small, pulsing ring of her anus.

"Ooooooogggghhhhh! God, God Yes!" she cried. "Do it… please! Ream me with your wonderful tongue! Now… NOW. NOW!"

Larry was shaking in the grip of his own passion. He rolled his tongue into a steely cylinder, and drove it into the tight barrier of her rectum. He swirled his moist licker in and out of her, moaning as he felt each thrust climb deeper into the hot channel.

Laura was a quivering mass of sweating flesh. She arched her back fiercely, and spread her legs as far as they could go in an effort to open herself to his reaming mouth. Low animal moans poured steadily from her throat, half from the contortions of her rubbery spine, half from the erotic bliss of his fiery tongue.

By now Marge was totally lost in the sight of the two twisting teenagers. She could see the juices pouring from her daughter's bushy cunt as she jerked in hungry, passionate delight. She watched as Larry's cock bobbed and twitched in anticipation, his pre-cum dripping in long web-like threads onto the bed beneath him.

For Marge, there was no more shock, no more surprise, nothing but the searing hunger of her sexual urges. Her own cunt was a seething river of liquid, triggered by the obscene sight before her.