David Crane - Hot neighborly wife

They agreed to arrive at the same time, the next day.

Elizabeth opened the door and they went out, saying goodbye to her – and giving her suggestive looks – and then saying goodbye to each other as they stood on the steps, looking into each other's eyes in the way that young lovers do.

They turned and walked away in opposite directions, each returning to their respective homes.

Elizabeth stared after Jimmy, admiring his slim physique and athletic stride, then she turned to gaze appreciatively at Brenda's nubile, bouncy body.

She closed the door and took a deep breath.

That had been close!

She had lost all her willpower. Had one of them stayed behind, she would have seduced her first teenager. In fact, in those final moments at the door, she had almost suggested that they all go to bed together. Oh! They would have thought she was a dreadful pervert, no doubt! They would never have believed that it was the first time for her, as well as for them – and why should they? She was almost old enough to be their mother! She felt like a pervert – but she grinned wickedly, thinking that there was nothing at all dreadful about the feeling.

Her pussy was blazing and her tongue tingled with the faint flavor of the cum she had licked from Brenda's lips.

Where can I get some cock or cunt? she wondered. What am I thinking? It was all just a game, a little innocent exhibitionism and voyeurism – I'm not going to cheat on Carl. But I'm so horny.

Then she smiled widely. The solution was simplicity itself, and she had been silly not to have thought of it before. She could go down to Carl's office and get fucked on his couch or on his desk. They had often done that in the fiery early days of their marriage. It was a romantic thought. Carl was not a succulent guy, and he most certainly was not a girl. He was brawny and hairy. But he had a large and lovely prick and a big set of balls – and she could fuck him without committing adultery. Fucking a husband was a very clever way to avoid fucking around on a husband.

That was just what she would do, and right now!

And that was why Elizabeth showed up at the office and caught her husband fucking his teenaged secretary.

Elizabeth telephoned, for a taxi. She didn't want to drive to town in her own car thinking that Carl might be able to knock off work early and they could go somewhere, and there was no sense in having both cars in town.

She considered putting a bra and panties on, then grinned and decided not to. It was nice to be naked under her dress and she had an idea it might excite Carl to know it, to know without doubt just why she had arrived at his office.

When the taxi arrived, Elizabeth went out and, impulsively, got into the passenger, seat up front, beside the driver. She was feeling really naughty. She had truly enjoyed her little experience of cunt flashing – all just innocent, of course – and as soon as she got in the cab she managed to let her dress slide well up her smooth thighs.

The taxi driver was in no way an attractive man.

But Elizabeth loved the way he looked at her, his lust so obvious that it made her feel all warm and wanted. Nothing made a girl feel sexier, she thought, than the knowledge that she was making a man feel sexy, that a man wanted to fuck her. She crossed her legs. The driver gulped. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel hard with both hands. She smiled and wriggled around, legs moving towards him. She knew that he could just get a shadowed glimpse of her pussy as he looked up her dress. His Adam's apple began to go up and down like a yo-yo and the front of his trousers began to lift with his burgeoning hard-on.

When he reached for the gear lever he grabbed his prick, by mistake, and had actually pushed that carnal rod in the direction of first gear before her realized that he was shifting his own transmission.

It was a perilous journey.

The driver, unable to keep his eyes off her exposed twit, almost hit several other cars, a truck and a telephone pole.

But at last they arrived at Carl's office building.

Elizabeth gave the driver a ten-dollar bill. He fumbled for change. When he handed it to her she managed to drop a fifty-cent piece on the seat between her legs.

"Now where did that go?" she asked.

Her thighs parted.

"I see it, lady," he croaked.

He reached down for the coin. The back of his hand brushed against her juicy pussy. He was having some difficulty in picking the coin up, and his hand kept rubbing up and down on her steaming cunt gash.

Elizabeth purred and squirmed against him.

At last, he held the coin up.

The back of his hand was damp with cunt juice. His face was flushed bright red and he was breathing hard.

"You may keep it as a tip," Elizabeth said, still keeping her slick thighs parted to his avid gaze.

The poor man looked so eager and desperate that Elizabeth, for a moment, toyed with the idea of sucking him off. It would, after all, be the charitable thing to do, especially since it was her own doing that he was in such a sad and needy condition. She had never been a cock-teaser before and felt a bit ashamed of herself. But still, she was determined not to cheat on her husband. Besides, the cab driver was no smooth, hairless youth; he was middle-aged and even the back of his hand was bristly with hair – and damp now, as well, the hair matted with pussy juice.

He held the fifty-cent piece up and looked at it with a baleful and mournful eye.

"That's my tip, huh?"

"Isn't it enough?"

"Well, they way you was flashing your quim, lady – I thought I might get something – you know? – more personal?"

"Why, whatever gave you that idea!" she said, feigning astonishment. She got out of the taxi, swinging her long legs across and giving him a final look at her pussy in the process.

The driver was deeply disappointed.

"And who's gonna pay for my seat covers?" he shouted. "You got cunt juice all over them!"

What a churlish lout! Elizabeth thought.

She was glad that she had not given him a blow-job. It served him right for being so impolite and discourteous!

She shot him an angry glance and ran into the office building.

When she entered the office, Elizabeth wondered where her husband's secretary was. Her desk was vacant. Elizabeth had never met Cathy, Carl's new secretary, although he had told his wife all about her. He'd told her that Cathy was sixty years old and going bald, in fact.

He'd probably sent Cathy out for coffee, she supposed.

She went through to his inner office and walked in, without knocking, as a wife has every right to do. She stopped dead in her tracks.

It was a sight that could have stopped a locomotive.

Carl, stark naked, was flat on his back on the floor.

A nubile blonde girl was squatting on his hard prick, sliding up and down his prick like a fireman on a pole. Her big tits flopped lewdly. They seemed inflated, as if they were dragging her up as she rose. Then her cunt sucked her back down relentlessly. Her firm rounded ass was grinding and her belly was heaving. Her slim back was to the door. Elizabeth could see her husband's fat, thick-veined prick vanish up the girl's slot, then come sliding out slathered with cum juice.

"Well!" she said.

Carl cleared his throat and the girl looked back, wide-eyed, over her shoulder. She did not stop fucking, however – nothing ever startled Cathy enough to cause her to miss a stroke in the middle of a fuck.

"Er… I don't believe you've met my secretary, Miss Jenson. Cathy, this is my beloved wife…"

"Pleased to meetcha," said Cathy, fucking away merrily on the boss' big prick and hoping that his wife was not the sort to interfere with business at the office.