Sam Stone - Turned on wife

Kitten remained bewildered. "I don't understand."

"Let me try to explain something in a roundabout way. You love Dan, don't you?"

"Very much so."

His glance locked with hers. "And you want to be a good wife to him, right?"

"Yes."

Dr. Dubois sighed. "Then you should do something about your inexperience, my dear."

"Do what, Doctor?"

His eyes probed the depths of hers. "Perhaps you should try another man," he suggested.

"Someone who understands your problem. Like an experienced lover."

Shock registered on her face. "I couldn't do that, Doctor. I'm not a whore."

Dr. Dubois made a clucking sound and shook his head. "Learning to love and being a prostitute are not the same thing, Katherine. Think about it."

Kitten did think about it, but she was nearly home before the truth finally dawned on her – that Dr. Dubois had wanted to use his prick to become her love teacher!

Damn!

Kitten dismissed Dr. Dubois from her thoughts and concentrated them on her husband. She experienced a twinge of jealousy and wondered about the lipstick traces she had found on his cock this morning. A woman had sucked the cum out of his prick. Dan had turned to another woman for the blow-job… and the fault was hers.

She would have to do something about that.

Dan had been asleep when she left for the village this morning. Kitten suddenly hoped he would still be in bed when she arrived him. He wasn't. The cabana was empty. Her brow wrinkled. Where was Dan? Out looking for the same girl who had sucked his prick last night?

Damn!

Kitten parked her purse and lit a cigarette. A minute or so later Dan's uncle waddled over to the cabana and handed her a note.

"From Dan," Max Markie wheezed, his eyes crawling over her tits the way they always did.

"Thanks for nothing," Kitten said icily. "The next time you come in here, try knocking."

Max Markie's lips tightened at their corners. "Grouchy little pussy this morning, aren't you?" Anger faded. He nodded towards the note in her hand. "You two have a scrap or something?"

Kitten's eyes turned static with anger. "None of your damned business, you lecherous old goat."

"Maybe not," Max said bluntly, "but the hassle could have been avoided if you'd have used your head while he was away with the Army."

"How? By letting you break me in for him?" Her lips curved in a smirk. "I'd rather straddle a candle than make it with a horny old goat like you."

Max brayed a laugh. "One of these days you might change your mind about that, Kitten."

"Don't hold your breath. And don't forget what I said about knocking the next time."

He lifted his brows and pursed his lips. "Afraid I might walk in and catch you in your undies?" He snorted. "Hell, I've seen you wearing and not wearing them before. Forgetting to pull the blinds is one of your nicer habits."

She blushed, hissed, "Haul ass, you dirty old man."

Max did.

"Horny old bastard," Kitten muttered as the door closed behind him, then laughed. "He's almost as bad as Gil Savage when it comes to sniffing after pussy."

She opened the note Max had delivered and read it. Dan informed her that he had gone to the mainland for the day, that he would return in the evening. She crumpled the paper and dropped it in the nearby wastebasket. A cold feeling crept over her. Why had Dan gone to the mainland? To see the girl who had taken his cock in her mouth and sucked him off? A shiver sliced through her system. Maybe he wouldn't come back. She refused to think about it. Losing him for a while was bad enough, but losing him for good…

Kitten ditched her cigarette. She removed a pair of sunglasses from her purse and stepped out into the late-morning sunlight. A redhead in a blue denim bikini, with a figure that wouldn't quit, stood poised beside the shimmering pool. When the girl saw Kitten, she smiled and pointed her tits toward the gulf, then said, "He went that away, pussycat. My keeper went with him." She laughed. "I wouldn't worry too much about Dan. Not while he's with my husband. Steve only caters to the cleanest whorehouses on the mainland."

Kitten stiffened. Then she realized that Liz Trent was giving her the needle. She didn't wonder why. By now the entire island probably knew that Dan hadn't spent his first night at home in bed with her.

Kitten blamed herself. No man wanted an iceberg for a wife.

She joined Liz Trent at poolside. She studied the luscious redhead for a few moments before she asked, "Aren't you worried about Steve?"

Liz shook her head. "Steve can take care of himself, drunk or sober. So he cheats once in a while, so what? A strange piece of tail won't hurt him. Nor will it keep him from coming back to me when it's over. He might step out on occasion, but I'm still all the woman he'll ever need."

Kitten bristled. "Meaning I'm not?"

Liz shrugged and made her big jugs tremble. "You could have been."

"How? By letting you seduce me after Dan went into the Army?"

Liz smiled sweetly. "Why not? A woman's tongue inside that reluctant cunt of yours might have made you more responsive toward Dan yesterday."

Memory crowded Kitten. She and Liz had taken in a movie at the village theater. On the way home, after a few drinks at the Sea Horse Tavern, Liz had pulled onto a side road and made a pass at her.

Shocked into helplessness by Liz's unexpected move, Kitten had sat still until the girl's lips touched the webbing of her panties. Then she had reacted to the kiss on her crotch by slapping Liz's face – and by walking the rest of the way home.

"Making it with me that night might have helped you a lot," Liz said, cutting into her thoughts. "It would have thawed you out for Dan. Experience, darling – that's the name of the game."

Liz sounded like an echo of Dr. Dubois. It made Kitten take a closer look at Liz, and then she proceeded to wonder about herself. Was she really out of step with the rest of the world? Sexually, of course. Would experience round her out? Would it bring Dan back to their marriage bed? She decided to find out. But not from Liz Trent. No lesbian for her. She would start learning from a man. She would start learning from her husband.

Tonight…

Liz Trent's voice jarred Kitten out of her reverie: "That old saw about a girl having to be a wife in the kitchen and a whore in the sack is true, pussycat. You just can't lay there like a lump when a man has his juicy cock stuffed in your twat. You've got to…"

Kitten whirled, returned to the cabana. She slammed the door on Liz Trent's mocking laugher and thought, I could use a drink. A wedding prick drink. A stiff one.

She located a bottle of orange vodka and carried it into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed and drank straight from the jug. It didn't take long for the flavored booze to catch up with her.

Kitten kept drinking, and feeling sorry for herself. Thoughts rioted in her brain. Jumbled thoughts. Erotic thoughts. She remembered the pain Dan's huge dick had inflicted upon her virginal pussy yesterday, the advice Dr. Dubois had given her today, and then she recalled Liz Trent's words about a girl having to be a wife in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom.

A whore in the kip?

"Why not?" Kitten told herself as she left the bed and padded into the bathroom to prepare herself for Dan. "Whores, like blondes, always seem to have more fun."

She did a fast strip and admired her image in the door mirror. A hint of amusement lurked at the corners of her mouth as she wondered how it would feel to enjoy a fuck. Really enjoy it. Like with a thundering, orgasmic crash.

Her mind was made up. Tonight she would surrender and become the kind of uninhibited whore-wife her husband wanted her to become. She stepped under the shower and a delicious tremor shook her body as needles of spray stitched thrill after thrill into her blushing flesh. She turned her tits to the water and her coral nipples stiffened immediately; it was akin to having them kissed and suckled by an invisible lover with tight lips. She soaped the dark beaver beneath her dimpled navel. A finger accidentally brushed against her jutting cunt, and she shivered again. Memory flooded back to the night Liz Trent had kissed the crotch of her panties. The sensation she now experienced was the same as then. Her frown deepened. How odd that a finger or a kiss on the cunt could produce such a delicious feeling, but not a cock.