Jeff Collins: Always willing wife

Dear Christ, was it possible? Dom was going to make her come!

She started to reach up and grab his neck with her arms. She wanted to kiss him. Then she felt it. His plunging prick began to pulsate and jerk.

Oh, Dom, no! Oh no!

"Please, not yet, Dom! Please hold off, daring! Another few seconds! Ohhhh, please… PLEASE!"

She might as well have been a whore lying there beneath him. Dom's eyes gaped vacantly and his mouth hung slack. He grunted aloud, then she felt his heavy meat spewing into her. Again and again she felt hot squirts of scalding cum. She cried out while she thrust her pussy desperately up onto his deflating prick. She heaved her hips and asscheeks upward with a frenzy, trying to wring her orgasm from the now-limp cock.

She didn't know that he was unconscious for nearly a half-minute, until his dead weight began to crush the breath from her and she rolled him away, feeling his flaccid cock pop out of her still-grasping cunt hole with a wet, sucking sound.

"You fuck… you bastard… you asshole!" she cried. "Even when you fuck me, you can't last long enough to get me off! SHIT!"

She began to cry, even as she smoothed her hand down over her belly and through the damp cunt hair to the moist, velvety flesh of her pussy. She found her throbbing, tiny clit and tweaked it twice. It needed more. Nevertheless she continued to stroke it tenderly while the spasms of coming jolted through her voluptuous body. But it wasn't the same as if a cock had brought her off.

As the unsatisfying orgasm finished its flutter through her body, she knew that the very next day she would start looking for a cock to replace Mario.

"I'll eat in town tonight… gotta talk to a client," Dom said.

Angela nodded and buried her face back in the morning paper. It had been a quiet breakfast. Dom was obviously contrite after the previous night's rape, but Angela was having none of it.

The door had barely closed behind him when Angela saw the ad and nearly fell off her chair.

There it was, smack in the middle of the entertainment section. Barry Golden's picture. The ad said that he was appearing for one week only at the Barbary Coast Club. The article underneath the picture nearly made Angela faint as she read it. "Barry divorced… deserting Hollywood for the time being and returning to club work…"

It was too good to be believed, Angela leaped for the phone and made a reservation for that evening.

Like a madwoman, she dressed and headed for town. She shopped until she found just the right dress. Then came the full works at a beauty salon, then back home to dress.

Barry Golden would see her as a woman now. This time it would be different – for both of them.

She checked her image in the mirror. The gown was slit high on the sides. The slightest movement of her legs would show the beginning of her rounded ass. It was a sexy outfit, the neckline low enough to show a good portion of her luscious, firm tits. She had a fantastic figure, and she was proud of it. God had given her a body for pleasure, she reasoned, and she would utilize it to its fullest.

Then she was ready and it was time to go.

"Look out, Barry Golden. You won't even know what hit you!"

"Jesus, Angie, I couldn't believe it when I looked down at ringside and there you were!"

Angela smiled. He was as handsome and desirable as ever. The dark hair was just as thick and curly, the brown eyes still flashed sex at every woman in the room, and the well-muscled body moved like a cat under the expensively cut clothes.

He had barely finished his first set when his manager, Harry Mayberry, had come to the table and escorted Angela back to Barry's dressing room.

Now they sat on a couch, staring at each other and sipping champagne. Each time their eyes met, Angela could feel the old vibrations shudder through her body.

"I was sorry to hear about you and Sheila," Angela said, referring to the chorus girl he had married.

"Were you?"

"Not really," she laughed.

"And what about your marriage…?" Barry asked.

"What about it?"

Barry shrugged. "How's it going?"

"Not good… not bad," Angela replied.

"Now tell me really."

"It's baring, Barry. Downright, fucking boring."

He put his glass down and took hers as he moved closer to her on the sofa. "That's what I hoped you'd say."

Their lips met in a tongue-dueling kiss as he slid his hand into the slit at the side of her skirt. He pushed the skirt all the way to her lap, and his hand slid off her sleek hose to land on smooth, warm skin. His cock stiffened.

"Oh, baby, you feel so good!" he murmured. "Take me to bed," Angela breathed, "and you can feel me all over. I really need a man tonight, Barry, and the one I want is you."

Barry's mind reeled. Talk about an angel dropping straight out of heaven! This had to be his luckiest day of all time!

"Jesus, you really mean it, don't you?"

"You're damn right I mean it. Do you have time before your next set?"

"Shit, baby, I'll take the time! In here!" There was a smaller room with a bed where he could rest between sets, Angela followed him into it, both of them tugging on their clothes as they moved.

"Pour us two more drinks, will you, darling?" she asked as soon as they had closed the door behind them.

He complied, standing at the wide dresser that served as a bar. He had his back toward her. There was a mirror above the dresser, but he didn't look in it as he uncapped the bottle and poured the drinks.

Angela quickly dropped her dress to the floor, and when Barry turned to face her, holding the drinks, she was standing in the center of the room, wearing a lace-trimmed white bra and white panties edged with lace. Her bare thighs gleamed invitingly.

"Like me this way?" she asked teasingly, and turned, showing off her rounded, nylon-clad buttocks before she faced him again.

"Honey, you're terrific!" Barry growled, and his eyes told her he was ready to eat her alive right now.

If another girl had behaved this way – a girl who hadn't meant anything to him – she would have cheapened herself in his eyes. And while he might have fucked her and enjoyed it, he wouldn't have given her the time of day afterward.

But Barry could never regard Angela as cheap, no matter what she did. She knew that. And she knew, also, that if she really convinced him that he meant something to her, the sky would be the limit.

Angela took the drink from his hands, touched the glass against his, then raised her glass to her lips and took a sip. She kept watching him cozily. His eyes searched her up and down. He tried to be subtle about it, but Barry wasn't exactly the subtle type. Seeing her this way – in her panties and bra – was a dream come true. He practically devoured her with his eyes.

Angela set her glass down. "Want me to take off something else?" she teased.

Barry grinned. "Honey, you just do anything you like."

Still watching him, Angela reached behind her and unhooked the bra. She placed an arm across her tits to hold the cups in place, and with the other hand she slid the shoulder straps down her arms.

She drew out the suspense while Barry's gaze remained glued to her chest. Then she suddenly whipped the bra away, causing her naked breasts to leap and quiver. The sight was dazzling.

"Jesus," was all Barry could manage to say.

Angela laughed and waggled her shoulders from side to side, causing her tits to wobble deliciously, their soft flesh shimmying as her stiff nipples grew harder.

"Baby, I might never get to that next set."

"You will, then you'll be ready to go again!" She had one fleeting thought of Dom, but it quickly disappeared when Barry dropped his shorts and she saw the hardness of his ready cock.