Richard Travis - Another suck wife

"Give it a kiss for luck," he said.

"Luck?" Doris asked, confused.

"If we're lucky, it won't spilt your asshole," Clyde said.

Doris suddenly remembered the deal she'd made and tried to buck. Strong hands held her emotionless, powerless.

"You better go and kiss it," Clyde said. "Last time this thing split a woman's asshole she was on her side for a month, unable to walk, to sit, to…"

"You, you can't!" Doris screamed. "You can't!"

"You promised, honey," Big Edith said, rubbing large gob of Vaseline into Doris' ass, running her finger in deep.

"She's got a damned tight ass-hole," Big Edith said, worried.

"A promise is a promise," Clyde said. "You know how this thing likes assholes."

"I can hardly get two fingers up her ass," Big Edith said. "There's no way that ass will take what you got."

"A promise is a promise," Clyde repeated. "You all heard it."

"Jesus, Clyde!" James said. "Be reasonable!"

Clyde ignored him, turning instead to Big Edith. "Tell you what, Big Edith. You got a right big ass. You want to offer it as a substitute?"

Big Edith scoffed at the idea. "I got better plans for my ass than getting it spilt to hell and gone by that big thing!"

"Then stop pushing that Vaseline in her ass and get outa my way," Clyde replied, holding his massive cock in both hands, aiming it at Doris' greased asshole.

Kitty emerged from the bedroom carrying a sheaf of papers. "Hold on, Clyde," she said. "You owe me one, remember?"

Clyde looked surprised. "I owe you? For what?"

"For driving all the way to Flagstaff to cool that big machine down, after you'd worn out all your steady standbys! That's for what!"

Clyde paused, frowning. "You had the fuck of your life!"

Kitty smiled. "SO did you, Clyde. So did you! Not many women can take what you've got to offer, hanging from that gadget you put in your bedroom. If you don't figure you owe me, don't ever count on my getting into those straps again. Ever! I don't have to drive all the way to Flagstaff and strap myself in, just to get a good fuck! There's too many hard cocks available in Phoenix."

"All right, I owe you," Clyde conceded. "Whata ya want?"

Kitty looked at Doris. "That's up to her," she said, handing Doris the papers she was carrying, and a ballpoint pen. "Sign them, Doris, and your asshole is saved."

Doris looked relieved, then suspicious. "Sign what?"

"You're granting Tim legal custody of your two kids until the campaign is over."

"Like hell!" Doris screamed.

Kitty looked at a smiling Clyde. "All right, Clyde," she said. "Her asshole belongs to you."

Clyde put the head of his cock against the small tight opening of Doris' asshole.

"It might hurt a little at first," he said. "But after that…"

Doris looked panic stricken. "No! You'll kill me with that big thing!"

Clyde nudged the cock-head into the small opening.

Doris almost fainted, then burst into tears. Clyde applied a slight nudge, just enough to send pain through her entire body.

"All right!" Doris shouted. "All right! Give me the damn pen! I'll sign. I'll sign any damn thing!"

She didn't notice the entire living room fill with amused smiles as she hastily signed the papers and handed them to Kitty.

Doris looked at Clyde. "My pussy handled it all right!"

"You have a right sweet pussy," Clyde replied. Doris looked at his cock hanging limply. "I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't actually felt it."

"If you want another go at it some time, Kitty knows how to reach me," Clyde said.

Doris looked at Kitty with hard eyes, then at the papers Kitty had forced her to sign.

"I hope you cut a sweet deal for this little caper," she said bitterly.

Within an hour, Kitty had the papers sent to Tim by special messenger.

A few days later she received a dozen roses with a card that said: Thanks. It wasn't even signed.

Kitty began to wonder if James hadn't been right about his old college friend. The very least he could have done was call.

She didn't plan it that way, but Kitty spent the next week totally nude, which was fine, but also totally alone, which wasn't.

For one full week the phone rang only twice, once from a bond salesman, the other from a sweet talking lady doing a phone survey on grocery shopping habits.

She remained nude the entire week. Nude and bored.

It did give her time to think, which she welcomed. She thought about working out a reconciliation with Harold, with mixed feelings about any reasonable agreement they might make.

On the sixth night she called James, catching him just as he was leaving.

"I've been working my ass off all week," he said. "Clyde and I are going to L.A. for a few days to visit Marcia."

"And a few of Marcia's friends," Kitty chuckled.

"Of course! I'll call you when I get back."

"Have fun," Kitty said, visualizing James with a harem of budding starlets on the make. She wasn't jealous. Just envious.

She needed a man damn it! Her vibrator just wasn't cutting it!

On the seventh day she relented and called Harold, feeling desperate.

"I just wondered how your business is going now," she said.

"Fine. Things are looking fine. Did you want something in particular, Kitty?" he asked coldly. "I'm pretty busy right now."

Her anger flared. "Look damn it!" she blurted out. "When you were down and called me. I invited you over!"

His voice changed from distant coldness to an amused tolerance, as if he were playing a game. "You're welcome to come over tonight," he said. "I'm free until ten."

"Until ten?"

"You know how politicians are, Kitty. They hold meetings at odd hours, usually in hotel rooms between speaking engagements."

"When did you start doing business with politicians?" she asked.

His voice again became cold and distant. "It's not a subject I are to discuss on the phone."

"Couldn't you come here?" she asked, immediately regretting the pleading sound in her voice.

"Impossible!" he replied coldly. "You know where I live now if you want to see me."

"Fuck off, Harold!" she snapped, equally cold, then slammed down the receiver.

But anger only inflamed her problem. She immediately called Tim, who also sounded cold and distant.

"I'm sorry, Kitty," he said. "But I'm in the middle of completing last-minute plans to kick our campaign into high gear."

"And your kids?"

Tim laughed. "Doris is bringing them down tomorrow to film some TV spots!"

"I can't wait to see them on TV!" Kitty replied tartly, again slamming down the receiver.

Another damned asshole!

The blues didn't let up, and neither did her driving passion for some action. But there was no action to be had.

After an early dinner, she showered, put on a fresh new outfit, more conservative than usual, and headed for the apartment of Sarah Bennit, arriving precisely at seven.

She hardly recognized Harold. He was unshaven, his tie and coat tossed in a chair. A well-tapped bottle of scotch was on the wet bar, open. He was on he couch, a fresh drink in his hand.

"When did you give up wine?" Kitty asked, surprised to see him drinking hard stuff.

"I haven't given up anything." He grinned. "Just added a few extras. Care for a scotch?"

"No thanks. What about your business with a politician?"

"That's three hours away."

"Is it Rone Curry?"

Harold smiled. "Don't tell me you're keeping up with politics these days?"

"I'm a citizen! I vote you know!"

"Of course. Just make sure you vote for the right man my dear – Rone Curry, the next Mayor of Phoenix!"

"So you decided to back him after all?"

"To the hilt! It's going to solve all my business problems, Kitty."

Kitty looked skeptical. "If he wins you mean." Harold looked at her as he would a child, like what could she possibly know about politics.