Norma Egan: Boy hungry wife

"Ohhhhhh, Sonny, darling, you're bringing me off," she groaned, "Ooooooo!"

Dizzily she heard Sonny give a yelp of pleasure and saw his purple swollen prick-head shooting jets of jism into the air. She felt his pumping cock going into spasms in her fist as he came.

Then from beyond the hedge, they heard Tom calling, "Ginger? I'm back. Where are you, honey?"

No two people had ever dressed faster, Ginger was sure of that. She and Sonny were sitting beside the pool fully clothed and innocently drinking lemonade when Tom strolled into the yard. Ginger's heart pounded with excitement and guilt. That little romp with Sonny had been so much fun, but she'd almost been unfaithful to the husband she loved.

"Hi, honey," she said brightly, "did you get Stacy's sink fixed?"

Tom had a strange look on his face, a kind of dopey smile. "Huh?" he said. "Sink. Oh, yeah. Yeah, I did. What's for dinner?"

"I haven't decided yet," Ginger said. "I'll be right in."

She and Sonny exchanged lingering glances, and she could toil that the boy wanted to be invited back again – not for yard work, either. But Ginger didn't say anything. She was feeling overcome with guilt, anxious to be with Tom, and she hurried into the house.

He was sitting in front of the TV, watching the news, a beer in his hand, perfectly normal except for that ridiculous grin on his face. As Ginger went into the kitchen to start dinner, she wondered what was the matter with him. Then she happened to catch a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror. She had that same silly smile on her face.

Tom wouldn't have told her in a million years what was making him grin like that. Much earlier in the day when he'd gone over to Stacy's, his idea was just to get a chance to ogle the lovely blonde divorcee close-up. He'd never dreamed it would go farther than that.

Stacy had preceded him across the lawn to her house, and Tom's eyes were glued to her saucily twitching little butt, tightly encased in snug red shorts. Her long light blonde hair bounced as she walked, and he thought again what a sexy broad she was. Stacy led him into her kitchen and indicated the sink, which was full of soapy water.

"It wouldn't drain after I washed the dishes," she said. "I don't know what's the matter."

"We'll soon find out," Tom said confidently.

He'd much rather be fooling around with Stacy than with that damned sink, but after all, he was a married man and he was only here to do a favor for a neighbor. He got out his drain cleaner and plunger and went to work. It wasn't a bad clog, and he had it fixed in a matter of minutes.

"There you go," he said, "working okay again."

Stacy acted like he'd just given her a bucket of diamonds. She threw her arms around his neck, gave him a big moist kiss on the cheek, and squealed, "Oh, Tom, you're wonderful."

"It was nothing," Tom said, aching to hug her back.

While Stacy embraced him for that brief moment, he could feel her soft pointed breasts against his chest, and he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. The soft pout of her mons pressed his crotch. She smelled of some light perfume like flowers. Damn, she had a nice curvy little body.

"As long as you're here, let me make you some coffee," Stacy said, moving away from him. "I haven't had a chance to talk to you in ages. Isn't it strange how people can live right next door to each other and never say hello?"

Tom was wanting to do considerably more than say hello to her, and his horny interest led him to bang around. He took a chair at the kitchen table and ogled Stacy's delectable slim body as she moved around getting the coffee things. He tried to remember how long she'd been divorced, wondering if she, too, was horny.

"How's it been going for you, Stacy?" he asked. "You getting along okay without Bill?" Bill Ames, Stacy's ex-husband, had been a mean drunk, and she'd finally gotten fed up and kicked him out.

"Oh, yes and no," Stacy answered. "I mean, I have a good job, enough money, and I can manage the house alone, but sometimes I get lonely."

That was just what Tom wanted to hear. He just wondered how lonely the beautiful divorcee was. He reminded himself that that kind of thinking was crazy, that he was married and loved his wife very much, and that he didn't believe in adultery. Somehow, though, it didn't stop him from getting more and more turned on by Stacy.

"I can understand how you'd get lonely," he said as she set the coffee pot on the table.

Stacy, standing close beside him, looked down with moist sad eyes. "Oh, Tom," she said, starting to cry, "you really can't imagine how lonely I get."

Tom instantly pulled her onto his lap. He told himself that it was just a gesture of comfort and friendship, but as her warm little ass settled right over his cock, he felt a lurch of excitement. Stacy snuggled against him, and he put his arm around her shoulders and started kissing her hair.

"There, there," he babbled, "it'll be all right."

"Oh, Tom," she said, "you're so sweet."

She turned her face up and kissed him on the mouth. Her mouth was all soft and glossy and good-tasting. Tom tried to keep it an innocent kiss, but in seconds his excitement overpowered him and he was snaking his long wet tongue into her mouth.

"Ummmmm," Stacy murmured.

She trembled for a moment, and then she started working her slick little tongue over his. Their tongues tickled each other, darted back and forth, and he felt Stacy's little round ass wiggling deeply and comfortably into his lap, rubbing right over his cock.

Watch it, fella, he told himself.

But it was damned hard to exercise any self-control with a gorgeous blonde purring in his arms, stroking his tongue with her tongue, and rubbing her adorable little butt back and forth over his prick. He tightened his hold on her, and she didn't protest.

"Ohhhh, that was nice," Stacy murmured.

She was looking him in the eye, her face very close, and he took in her long long eyelashes, big blue eyes, and turned-up nose and moist pink lips. He felt almost giddy with horniness for this woman. He tried to make himself think of Ginger, of their marriage, but that was hard to do with Stacy right there in his lap.

"DO it again," she said huskily. "I need it."

Oh, Christ, Tom thought.

She seemed to be inviting him to make love to her, and he was powerfully excited by the idea. Well, a kiss wouldn't hurt, and then he'd better get the hell out of here. He kissed her again. It started to be just a friendly smack, but Stacy quickly converted it into a deep thrusting of tongues and a hot horny meshing of mouths.

Her little warm hands started roaming over his body, inside his shirt to pet the thick mat of chest hair. Tom knew he was in real trouble if he stuck around, but dammit it was hard to leave. He should be firm, put Little Miss Hot Pants off his lap, and go home to his wife. Instead he found his hand creeping inside her halter.

"Ummmm," Stacy murmured.

Tom slipped his hand down in the low neck of her halter and touched the silky soft skin of her pert boobs. Stacy was digging her slick little tongue deep in his mouth, exciting hell out of him, and he thrust his hand deeper inside her clothing and cupped one firm apple-size tit. He gave it a gentle squeeze, and Stacy purred and wiggled her ass again.

Sure, her boobs weren't nearly as big as Ginger's, but they were damned nice, soft and warm to touch, just right for a handful. He got his hand firmly around her silky mound and began molding and squeezing it. Stacy used the tip of her finger to tickle his nipples. Then she broke the kiss and looked at him, her eyes hot and wide.

"Tom, darling," she purred, "you're almost tearing my halter. Don't you think you ought to take it off?"

Yes, by God, she really was inviting him to get it on with her. He still couldn't conceive of being unfaithful to Ginger, but just a little more play couldn't hurt. He wouldn't go all the way, he assured himself as he untied Stacy's halter and drew it off.