Bob Wallace: Hot fun wife

Monica Adams tall, blonde, and beautiful weaved her way through the crowded living room. In the kitchen, she leaned against the sink and smiled. "It's a helluva party, Dawn," she said to her hostess who was piling trays with sandwiches. "Anything I can do?"

"Make yourself a drink and have fun."

Monica nodded, determined to do just that. She grabbed a bottle of rum and filled a tall glass to the brim. Before she left the kitchen, she drank most of the hundred-proof rum and at last achieved the buzz she needed to get through the rest of the evening.

"Where are you going?" It was Jeff, Dawn's husband, blocking Monica's way. He leered into her beautiful face, his gaze dropping to the abundant amount of tittie flesh peeking deliciously out of her low-cut dress.

A tingle rippled through Monica's body. Jeff's stare was bold and appreciative. "Back to the party and have fun," she said, a sexy lilt to her voice. The rum had her flying.

"You can have fun in the kitchen, too." Jeff took her slim wrist.

"How?" she asked, her pale-blue eyes sparkling impishly.

"I'll think of something." Jeff maneuvered her to the sink. He pressed his body against hers. "Where's Steve tonight?" He caressed her bare arms, fixing her dazzling blue eyes with his own.

"Too busy," she said, a frown darkening her gorgeous face. "Business again." She felt the pressure of his body and enjoyed it. A pulsing sensation shot through her hungry cunthole, and she gulped down the rest of her drink.

Jeff took the glass from her hand. "You look lonely."

"I am," she admitted, the booze loosening her tongue. "This is the third party I've had to attend without Steve. I'm fed up." She rocked her hips, smiled wickedly and squirmed quickly away. "I need another drink."

Jeff leaned against the counter, watching Monica's every move. She was a dynamite bitch, and he sensed deep in his gut that she was ripe for fucking.

He had watched her all night, sensing her anger, loneliness, and sexual frustration. He shook his head. Steve was a great guy, but when it came to taking care of his wife, Jeff knew Steve was doing a lousy job. "You're going to get drunk if you keep drinking like that."

"So what?" Monica snapped. She had filled the glass with ice and rum again.

"Somebody might take advantage of you." Jeff felt the hardening of his groin.

"Maybe that's what I need," she said defiantly. "Steve's always too busy." She let the fiery booze flow down her throat. It warmed her, made her feel good, something she hadn't felt in months.

Jeff took the half-empty glass before she could finish it. "You've had enough." He pulled her into his arms, felt her body yield to him.

"You afraid I'll get drunk and ruin your party?" She rolled her hips, this time staying in his arms as she felt the pressure of his cock against her belly.

"I'm not afraid of that at all." He grinned. His hands roamed the rounded curves of her hips and ass.

"Oooo, Jeff," she sighed. His hands had her head reeling. "Dawn… what about Dawn? Someone might come in and get the wrong impression." She twisted out of his arms, afraid of being caught.

"We could go somewhere else," he said, challenging her with his eyes.

Monica was breathing heavy. Her blue eyes glowed with a passion that had not been satisfied in months. "I can't," she sighed. "Dawn… she's my best friend." Her insides were churning.

"She doesn't have to know," Jeff said. "No one has to know, but us." He saw the desire in her eyes and was confident. "We could have a ball together." Another two steps brought him up against her.

Monica gasped, but didn't move. Her mouth opened in protest. Nothing came out.

Jeff brought his mouth to hers. His tongue slipped between her lips. He held her tight, felt the unleashed passion raging in her body. He came off her mouth. "I want you, Monica, and you want me."

Monica couldn't stop shaking. The kiss had stoked the fires of her pussy. Juice flowed, soaked her panties. Her nipples swelled, pressed against the chiffon of her dress. "No, Jeff. I couldn't… Dawn… Steve… we're both married."

Jeff grinned boldly. He took her hand and rubbed it over his crotch. "This is what you want, Monica. You need it." He dropped her hand. "I'll be in the garage if you change your mind." Gambling, he left the kitchen.

Monica couldn't move. Her entire body was on fire. Her head was swirling. Booze and passion bombarded her senses. Her eyes found the drink. "What the hell." She gulped it down.

Slowly, she made her way back to the living room. It was noisy, happy. She saw Dawn across the room and turned away. She couldn't look at Dawn, knowing what she was going to do with Jeff.

She headed toward the front door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it and stepped outside, closing the door quickly behind her.

Outside, she caught her breath. Carefully, she went down the steps, pausing, wavering between going home and meeting Jeff in the garage. Passion and a need to be desired won. She turned, glanced at the house, then hurried to the garage.

Heart pounding, palms sweaty, she turned the knob and held her breath. "Jeff," she whispered, stepping into the dark garage. "Are you here?"

"I'm here, Monica." A dim light flicked on. "Close the door."

Obediently, Monica closed the door. She stared across the garage at Jeff. She fought the urge to leave, making her feet take her around the car to where Jeff was standing.

"Here." He handed her a drink. "I thought you might need this."

Grateful, Monica took the drink and gulped it down. "Thanks." She heaved a sigh, the happy buzz returning. The closeness of Jeff excited her.

"I brought a bottle." He filled Monica's empty glass. The scent of her perfume filled his head. He ogled her tits straining beneath her dress. With one finger, while Monica sipped her drink, he traced a line over her shoulder, down her smooth flesh, stopping where her neck met her dress. He noticed her hand shaking and knew it was going to be great tonight.

"We shouldn't," Monica moaned, but she knew she would.

Jeff circled her lush body with his arms, drawing her tight against his hard frame. "I've wanted you for a long time," he whispered hoarsely. "A long time," He crushed his mouth to hers, invading her throat with his tongue.

Drunk with passion, the potent rum making her bold, Monica gobbled greedily on Jeff's tongue. She ground her body against him, totally committed to her first act of adultery.

"Baby," Jeff groaned, enjoying a sample of her passion. "Unnnn, baby." His hands roamed freely over her rocking hips and tight ass. His prick throbbed in his pants, crushed against her pressing belly.

"Ohhhhh, Jeff," she gasped, loving his hands. "Ohhhh, God, I feel like a tramp."

Jeff hungrily brought his hands to her tits and squeezed. "You're not a tramp, Monica."

His hands mauling her tits erased the last shred of resistance from both her mind and body. "Unnnn, let me take this off. I don't want to get it all wrinkled." She was floating on a cloud of lust.

She stepped back, face flushed, eyes bright with desire. With a sultry smile on her face, she reached behind her back, slid the zipper down. A quick shake of her shoulders and the dress melted to her waist, baring her large plump creamy tits.

Jeff's breath caught in his chest. "Christ, Monica… your tits… damn!" His prick ached, and he rubbed his crotch. "Baby!"

Monica saw the lust in his eyes and fed on it. It had been ages since Steve had looked at her that way. "Do you think they're too big." She giggled, hefted her melon-shaped tits in her hands and jiggled them.

Jeff feasted his eyes on Monica's overripe tits. They were twice the size of Dawn's. He reached for them. "Let me do that."