Jeff Collins - Always willing wife

Angela Perrini watched her husband, Dom, stuff spaghetti into his face while he watched her big, braless tits bounce as she moved around the kitchen.

God, he was a handsome bastard when I married him, she thought, and always hard, always ready.

Now he's ready and hard only on Friday nights, after he's slopped up enough beer before he comes home and enough Chianti at dinner.

It wasn't Friday, it was Wednesday. That was why Angela was so surprised that Dom was looking at her tits with that gleam in his eye. Shit, she thought, that's all I need, for him to change his fuck schedule! Wednesday night was her dance class with Mario. They did very little dancing.

"Want some more?" Angela asked, Dom grunted and nodded.

She spooned more spaghetti on his plate and refilled his glass with Chianti.

"Some more greens, too," he growled.

Angela swiveled luscious hips in the direction of the refrigerator and got more salad. Long black hair fell forward to hide her face as she set the salad on the table.

Her husband's eyes caressed her body.

"You got something on your mind, I can tell. But forget it… I've got dance class tonight."

He grinned. "Yeah, I know. Go play footsie with your little faggot friend."

Dom thought that. Mario was a queer. If he only knew.

Dom hated faggots. He preferred tits, and Angie's tits quivered unrestrained, the way he liked them, behind her low-cut blouse. The dark centers swayed back and forth behind the white fabric and the nipples were hard. He licked his lips and shifted in his seat to ease the strain in his crotch.

As he walked around his chair toward her own, he slid a hand up her thigh, his thumb probing past unshielded hair and into the wetness of her cunt. His cock twitched, but she only patted his head patiently, standing still for his pleasure. "Cool it, Dom. The food'll get cold." Her nose wrinkled at him and her black eyes joined her lips in a practiced smile. She didn't like him much.

Her tits bounced as she sat down. Dom's eyes strayed on them, staring. She stared back at him. She could tell from his expression what his dull mind was thinking: "Do I want to fuck or eat?"

Then he made his decision.

He ladled meat sauce over his spaghetti and tasted it, wrapping it around his fork and following it with a hunk of fresh bread. "Good stuff, Angie. Better'n usual."

She took a bite herself and watched him stuff food into his face. He was a sloppy eater, sauce dripping onto his chin, the pasta dribbling around his lips, and he didn't reach for his napkin. Angela closed her eyes as she answered. "I'm glad you like it, Dom."

There was silence for the rest of the meal. At last it was over. Angie quickly deposited the dishes in the sink and made for the bedroom. "I'd better hurry. I'll be late for class."

She pulled her leotard and slippers from the closet and unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a pair of swelling tits the size of grapefruits.

Her eyes fell on Dom in the mirror. He was licking his lips as he gazed at her huge, bare tits. His hand caressed his cock through his pants as he stared at the dark circles in their centers.

"Go on," he said.

Oh shit, Angela thought, tonight of all nights he wants to fuck!

"Dom, I'll be late."

"Go on!"

She undid the zipper at the side of her short skirt and let the cloth pool around her ankles. She wore no panties and the dark thatch that extended in a sweeping triangle from her navel, reaching toward her hips and diving between her thighs, didn't quite conceal the pinkness of her slit.

Dom leered. He reached down and pulled his dick out of his pants, then came up behind her and ran the huge cockhead up and down the crease of her ass.

Damn, oh damn, he's got a nice prick. If the bastard only knew how to use it! "No, Dom, not now!" But she could feel her body responding as the cock caressed her cunt hair between her thighs.

"I got the itch, Angie."

"Why didn't you have the itch last night, when I did?" she replied.

"Who knows? But I do now. And so do you. Your pussy's wetter than hell!"

It was. She could feel her juice oozing from her cuntlips and dripping down her inner thighs.

Damn, damn, damn the bastard, she thought. But, why not? She would still have enough left for Mario – more than enough.

Her nipples were stiffening and she brought her hands to her tits and belly. The working fingers jerked the flesh, twitching the stubby buds of her nipples and moving the lips of her pussy so that her clit seemed to pulse with desire.

Dom reached for her, one hand going to her cunt, a finger pausing to caress her clit before diving between the lips to stroke her inner pussy.

Angela dropped to her knees to mold his prick in her hands. She watched his face as she undid the pants and pulled his massive cock farther into the open.

You dumb bastard, she thought, staring at the enormous tool, I would never have started fucking around on you if you'd given me as much of this as I needed!

Dom ran his fingers through her long black hair and tickled a tit. He was quiet, breathing hard, smiling, and when she gently rubbed his cockhead with a fingernail, he gasped.

She played with his balls, rolling them in their soft, hairy sac. She caressed his cock, running the foreskin back and forth over the head, inserting a finger under the moving skin, titillating him with her knowing touches.

He kept grinning, but his touch on her nipples became more urgent. He pinched them until she groaned. He clamped his fingers into her scalp, cruel and brutal.

She winced and tried to pull away, but he kept her close. "Don't hurt me, dammit! I'll do it. Real good!"

He pulled her head toward him and she bent to his cock.

Ten inches long and a little over two inches thick, his prick was big. But she was able to suck it into her mouth with no trouble at all. He pulled her harder against him, forcing her down on his dick. She resisted and began to swirl her tongue around his cock, swabbing, stroking, probing into the tiny slit at the top. Dom gasped again and his hands lost their urgency. Her mouth was skilled. She knew just how to suck him to give him the most pleasure, and the tongue thrusts were just the start.

Her head began to bob, lips sliding on and off the massive shaft. More and more of his meat disappeared into her throat with every stroke.

At his urging, Angie slid down until his cock pressed the back of her throat, but the nest of his hair was still three inches from her lips. She angled her head until she could feel his cockhead slipping into her throat. She swallowed, letting the constrictions of her muscles suck his dick until he groaned. Then she drew away and let only her tongue touch the head. She puckered the skin around it, holding it firmly, warmly, in her fist, and probed. Dom gasped.

His clenched muscles relaxed and she went down on him again. She wanted to bring him off as fast as she could, for when she managed to exhaust him it was always easier. She would be more than just hot and ready for Mario. She would rape him!

Her tongue swirled and tickled. She nibbled, pumped, and when she sucked, the pressure of her cheeks made him moan softly with pleasure. She drove down again and lodged his cock in her throat, her lips and nose being tickled by his coarse pubic hair.

She swallowed and her tongue licked out to touch his balls and knead the root of his big prick. Her mouth was strong and soon his muscles clenched again. She could feel the tension in her hands that rested on his asscheeks, but she didn't stop. She sucked and swallowed harder, faster, and when he began to gush she swallowed his cock a little deeper.

The steaming cum streamed, spurting, into her throat. She sucked it all, drained every drop, and only when he sighed, pushed against her shoulders, and said, "That's enough," did she stop.