Richard Travis - Another suck wife

"Eat it!" she suddenly screamed, her words coming as a surprise to her. "Eat my hot pussy!"

His tongue darted faster, deeper. His teeth locked onto soft, wet flesh, causing a loud scream of pain. His long tongue slid deep into her cunt-tunnel, touching places that had never been touched, in a way she had never before experienced.

"Oh my God!" she screamed, her teeth clenched. "I love it, James! My God how I love it!"

Her first orgasm, the first real orgasm she had experienced in a long time, came suddenly, unexpectedly, and lasted for a sweet eternity. Her breath caught in her throat. When she finally gasped for air, the odor that saturated the room was no longer there. The foul, nauseating stench had become the sweet smell of sensuous pleasure.

She came again, with such force she thought she might faint. She loved the smell of him now. She wanted to smell his arm pits, his asshole.

"Now it's your turn," he said, picking her up and literally dropping her on the hard floor beside the bed. He pulled her face between his legs. "I like a fast tongue!"

She licked his growing cock-shaft, his sweaty balls, the crack under his balls. She felt her mouth moisten as saliva dripped down his ball-sac, then she head a wild sucking sound, the obscene sound of animals devouring their kill, lapping at fresh meat with a hunger that was insatiable.

At first she couldn't believe she was making such sounds, or that she was listening to them with the fascination of one hypnotized by the smell, the feel, the sound of animal passion. She couldn't believe she was on her bare knees on a hard floor, dripping her saliva over cock-flesh that smelled of grit and sweat, yet tasting it with erotic pleasure.

She couldn't believe the pain in her knees, the sudden jerking of her hair, the kneading of her shoulders and nipples by strong, cruel fingers was sending streaks of pleasure through her body that made this horrible moment one of exquisite desire.

She couldn't believe how much she loved the hot come that gushed into her hungry mouth.

"Swallow it!" he commanded.

She instinctively, happily, crazily obeyed, then fell in a heap on the floor, her hand caressing his soft cock, the salt-like drops of come drooling from one corner of her mouth.

James went to the kitchen for a beer, took a long swallow, then poured in a double shot of whiskey.

"Here," he said, grabbing a handful of hair and jerking her head up, tilting the can to her lips. She swallowed greedily.

James clicked on the overhead light and plopped on the bed with his boilermaker, looking down at her curled body remaining motionless, totally comfortable, on the hard floor.

"Had enough?" he growled.

Kitty's eyes remained closed. A faint smile parted her full lips. "There isn't enough."

He gave her another swig of the boilermaker, the high-powered liquid joined the white come that dripped from her chin, onto her tits.

"There's more," he said, finishing the beer with one long pull.

He scooped her off the floor and headed for the one easy chair in the living room.

"I thought nobody sat in that chair but you," she said.

"You aren't sitting in it," he said, draping her body over the soft back of the chair, the cheeks of her ass pointing toward the ceiling, her face buried in the smelly work clothes in the seat.

He stood behind the chair, rubbing his cock against her asshole.

"No, James! No!" she protested.

He stuck his finger in first. She felt like he was ripping her apart.

"Oh!" she cried.

"Yell your guts out if you want," he said. "Nobody can hear you."

He lunged forward to get the head of his cock into the tight opening. Kitty clenched her teeth, trying not to cry out from the pain, her face buried in the crotch of his work pants wadded in the chair, pants still damp from sweat.

He lunged deeper, penetrating virgin territory, painfully, steadily.

The pants began to smell sweet as Kitty became dizzy from a combination of pain and pleasure.

"Stop!" she said. "Please, please stop!"

He lunged harder, deeper.

She licked the crotch of his sweat-soaked pants, then sucked the moist material into her mouth and chewed it. It tasted salty, then sweet.

The pain in her ass soon lessened. His fingers reached for her pussy, working her clit. She felt his fingers become moist and slick from her fuck-fluids.

She sighed, feeling all of her inhibitions dissolve in the acid thrill of supreme pleasure. She licked at his pants, his shirt, wishing for his shorts, his socks. She had a hunger for any and all of him.

"Yes!" she screamed. "Yes! Yes! Fuck me, James! Fuck my ass!"

His come gushed into her body, then rolled in a warm sticky stream down the inside of her thigh.

She felt like she was going to faint. She fought it.

The sensation was too great, too wonderful to miss.

She didn't want to faint. She wanted to feel.

She had a strange urge to roll over and lick his come from the inside of her leg.

"Enough?" he asked, returning from the kitchen with another boilermaker.

Kitty stood on wobbly legs, clutching his discarded pants in her hand. She pressed the wadded piece of clothing to her face and inhaled deeply.

"There'll never be enough," she whispered.

James nodded skeptically, with disbelief. She would change her mind tomorrow, after she thought of what she had to lose if her husband found out. They all thought like that in the light of a new day. Then she would decide to climb back into the role of proper housewife.

"I want to see you again," she said, rubbing her hand between his legs, offering her lips, her tongue, thrilling to the feel of his unshaven face, the vile smell of beer and whiskey on his breath, the taste of her pussy-juices in his mouth.

She would change her mind, he thought. Her type always did after fearing a suspicious glance from the husband who paid all the bills.

What the hell, he'd make it easy for her. And why not? There were others out there, bored, huffing, just waiting for the right moment, the right man. James never had a problem finding a woman.

He grasped her left tit and squeezed until she cried out in pain, falling on her knees before him. Instead of screaming in protest as he expected, her mouth opened, her tongue lapped at his cock like a puppy wanting to please a master.

He slapped his semi-hard cock hard against one side of her face, then slapped the palm of his hand against the other.

"Get the hell out!" he said harshly, shoving her toward the door. He threw her clothes at her then disappeared into the kitchen for another beer and whiskey.

Kitty returned home in a daze – hurt and confused – but physically satisfied, totally satisfied. She felt grateful for the pain and confusion. It would help her to do what she knew she had to do.

Harold returned from San Francisco elated, but not for the reason Kitty wanted him to be slated. It wasn't because he'd missed her.

"I think I've got that financial consulting contract lined up," be said happily. "I've got some more pound work to do, some more rails to grease. But they've given me a lot of encouragement."

"Does this mean you'll be spending some time in 'Frisco?" she asked.

"For a while. I've got to stay on it until the deal is signed."

A week later he announced he was going to the coast again. Kitty accepted the news stoically.

The morning he was to leave, she packed while Harold ate breakfast and read the morning paper. She took off her robe, brushed her hair and applied a light layer of makeup.

Standing before the full-length mirror in their bedroom, she noticed the perfect arch of her legs as light streamed through the short, thin gown. Her large dark nipples were as visible as if seen through a thin veil of smoke.