Donna Allen - Hard up wife

She blushed. "Not with my husband."

"Aha!" McPherson exclaimed. "Now we're getting somewhere!"

And so it began. Before twenty minutes had passed, he extracted the whole story out of her, like a determined dentist pulling a difficult tooth. Leona never stopped blushing. The idea of revealing to a complete stranger that she enjoyed ass-fucking more than anything else was almost too much for her to handle. But she did it. She almost broke down in tears, but she did it, and when all the secrets were exposed she was amazed to find that, in spite of her embarrassment, talking about her problems turned her on. Her panties were soaked and she could feel the wetness on the insides of her thighs.

McPherson puffed on his cigar and reassured her. "The fact that you enjoy getting fucked in the ass is not the central problem," he said. "it's not a problem at all. Some women like it and some don't. The central problem is that you don't enjoy fucking with your pussy. That's a problem. It's also a pity, because you look like a woman who ought to enjoy sex. You look ripe. Are you ripe, Mrs. Crawford?"

His glance moved up and down between her tits and her belly. Leona found herself thrilled by the intensity of his gaze. "What do you mean?" she said.

"I mean are you wet? Right now, at this moment, is your pussy wet?"

A crimson blush suffused her cheeks. "Yes," she said meekly.

"Are you sure? Sometimes we make mistakes about these things, if you know what I mean. Are you certain you're wet?"

"I think so," she whimpered.

"Find out."

"What?"

"Find out. Put your hand under your dress and find out."

She blanched, "Oh, no," she said.

"I thought you promised to stop being a prude, Mrs. Crawford. We both know you have a pussy and we both know it sometimes gets wet. Now put your hand between your legs and find out if you're wet."

She did it. She had no idea why, except maybe that his eyes were so fiercely compelling she had to obey. She probed a hand under her dress as discreetly as possible and brought the hand out again with cunt-juice on her fingers.

McPherson was triumphant. "Wonderful!" he said. "Now I think I ought to lock the door so that we can get down to business in private. Don't you agree, Mrs. Crawford?"

She looked at him, her legs trembling as she felt a gush of cunt-juice squirt out of her pussy.

"Yes," she said softly. "But you might as well call me Leona."

Once Leona admitted to herself that she found McPherson sensually exciting, there was no way she could avoid doing whatever he wanted. She felt like a meek little lamb about to be devoured by a big bad wolf. She liked the feeling. McPherson was obviously very much aware of what was in her mind, and he acted forcefully and directly as soon as the office was locked.

"The dress," he said. "Slip it off your shoulders and let me have a peek at those heaving tits. A woman with heaving tits is irresistible, did you know that? Big, heaving tits make me think of radiant motherhood. I suppose inside every man there's a little boy. Your tits look as ripe as your pussy must be. The tits, please!"

Blushing, she undid some buttons and slipped the dress off her shoulders. The flimsy bra kept her tits from bouncing around, but it hid nothing. McPherson more or less waved it off with a sweep of his hand. With his beard and his booming voice, he reminded Leona of a biblical prophet. She wondered if he really wanted her to call him Al.

He was gentle. She was surprised, but then she discovered it was just as exciting, maybe even more.

Without touching her, he studied her breasts for a full minute.

"Wonderful jugs!" he exclaimed. "Just wonderful! Get the nipples hard."

"What?"

"Get the nips hard, darling. Use your fingers. Maybe some spit will help. I want to see them standing out, out, out!"

Leona quavered. He was acting crazy now and she wasn't sure she liked it. There was no doubt, however, that she was turned on. Her pussy was sopping wet. She couldn't expect anything else, sitting there like that with her big tits hanging loose and naked in front of his eyes. Showing her tits always got her excited. She was pleased he thought she had nice breasts, even if he exaggerated a little. Her tits really had too much droop, like big pears. Well, if he wanted her nipples out, she'd bring them out. She felt self-conscious about playing with herself, but she did her best to overcome it. Wetting her fingertips with saliva, she went to work.

"That's it!" McPherson urged. "Roll the little buds, get them up and out! Tasty looking things, aren't they?"

She dropped her hands when she had her nipples turned into stiff, rubbery stalks. Now, for the first time, he reached out to touch her. He ran the fingertips of one hand lightly over her breast and playfully tweaked the turgid nipple.

"How often do you finger yourself?" he asked thoughtfully.

Leona blushed. "You mean…?"

"Yes, dear, how often do you finger your pussy? How often do you masturbate? About once a day?"

"Sometimes."

"And sometimes more?"

"Yes."

He pulled his fingers away from her tit and patted her cheek. "You're precious," he said. "Slip off your pantyhose and panties, or whatever it is you're wearing underneath, but leave the dress on. There are few things more stimulating than a half-dressed woman."

Kicking off her shoes, Leona peeled her pantyhose and panties down her legs and off her feet. As she dropped the ball of nylon to the floor, she was shocked to suddenly see that McPherson had his cook dangling from the open fly of his pants.

"Oh, Lord!" she said.

"Let's leave the Lord out of this!" McPherson boomed. His voice calmer, he went on. "Play with yourself, my dear. Lift up your dress, open your pretty legs, and strum the old banjo. Prig the fig with a fickle finger. Jack off your sweet little pussy. Churn your juice until it turns into cream!"

Leona was growing more and more convinced that McPherson was completely crazy, but she quivered with excitement as she opened her legs to show him her wet cunt. He had a thick, menacing-looking cock, half-hard now, but slowly stiffening as he feasted his eyes on the juicy treasure between her thighs.

She played with herself. She ran her finger up and down along the side of her clit, and then she zeroed in on the swollen button. McPherson's cock jerked up by degrees as he watched her.

"Just as I thought!" he suddenly bellowed. "You don't play with your tits! Why not?"

"I don't know," Leona trembled. "I just never do."

"Well, we'll change that, won't we? Tease the titties! Suck them! Raise up a tit and gobble it!"

One hand strumming her cunt, Leona used the other hand to raise up a heavy breast. She lowered her head and was amazed to find that she could actually get her lips on the nipple. With a soft moan, she closed her mouth over the hard stalk and began a blissful sucking.

"That's it!" McPherson cried. "Toss yourself off! Turn on that little faucet in there and give the world some hot cunt-juice!"

Her fingers slurping and sloshing in her brimming cunt, her juices dripping on the plastic seat of the chair, Leona sucked her tit and shuddered at the madness of it all.

"Keep it up!" McPherson commanded.

"Keep it going!"

He made her come three times. During her third orgasm, she discovered him fondling his long thick cock in front of her nose. He had a magnificent prick. The large cock-tip was sculptured so perfectly it was almost a work of art. Without any hesitation, she opened her mouth and engulfed the dripping knob until she had it securely lodged at the back of her throat.

His fingers holding her ears, he gazed down at her as she pumped her mouth up and down the length of his cock. Leona was embarrassed by the slurping noises she made. Gobs of saliva drooled out of her mouth to coat his shaft.