David Martin - Loaned wife

His dick was so thick that her pussy lips folded in with each thrust. Her labia were pulled tight against her clitoris and the little button was tugged downward to rub against his shaft.

Her cunt lips were stretched tightly about his prick, the inner, sensitive nerve endings rubbing tightly against his cock as he speeded up his stroking. Each heave of Koenig's loins brought an answering surge from Janet. They battered their hips at one another almost as though they were fighting, crashing together as he slammed downward and she thrust upward to meet him.

Their fucking continued faster and faster until Janet felt the orgasmic frenzy rising in her. It started as a numbness around her clitoris and cunt lips, and gathered slowly outward from there. She clenched her inner muscles powerfully, as if she meant to lock Koenig's huge dick inside her forever, and arched up with an almost demonic strength that lifted Koenig's greater bulk atop her.

Koenig was unable to hold it any longer. With a grunt of passion, he let loose his self-control and great torrents of his semen blasted their way along the tube running the length of the underside of his huge prick. Bolt after bolt of thick cum shot out of his broad knob, splashing deep inside her. Janet could feel every swelling pulsation of his cock as it strained against the constriction of her cunt.

And she could feel every blast of his heavy, creamy goo splatter home inside her. His cum filled her and began to back, up along the shaft of his prick, crawling back up her tight-fitting vaginal sheath to spill out and drool from her cunt.

Janet could feel Koenig's balls, the flesh sac holding them pressed tightly against her smooth, soft ass cheeks, jerking and throbbing as he let loose the load he'd been carrying for over a month.

She thought he'd never stop coming. With each jolt of jism he sent spurting home inside her cunt, she reached a new, higher peak of release.

Finally, Koenig's spasms began to slow, then to become irregular. He lost the frantic, battering drive to send his masthead deeper into her and his cock began, slowly, to shrink inside her, shriveling, becoming limp. She gave a little moan and shivered, relaxing her muscles, and slipping back onto the bed.

She shuddered slightly, mewled in her throat, as she felt Koenig's shrinking cock slipping out of her cunt. The sensation made her tense slightly.

Finally, Koenig lay atop her, breathing slowly and regularly – asleep.

Disgusted with his thoughtlessness, Janet put her hands against his broad, muscular, hairy chest and pushed him as hard as she could. He rolled limply off her onto his back. Janet swung her feet over the edge of the bed and stood, cum still dribbling from her matted pubic hair and wonderfully abused, aching cunt, down the insides of her thighs.

She looked down at Koenig's softly stirring form, and was overcome with a sudden uncertainty. What had she done? Knowingly, she had gone into that card game, half-sure that it would lead to such a situation. And she'd known, right from the start, that if the situation – and the man – arose, she would go through with it.

With one of her husband's best friends!

But then she became newly aware of the spunk drooling down her legs, and she remembered how it had felt when Koenig had poured his abundant load deep inside her cunt, the way it had felt when that huge cock, now so defenseless-looking, had been driven between her pussy lips.

Her hand went down over her pubis and her fingers touched her cunt. She felt her still swollen pussy lips, now covered with the overflow of Koenig's fuck slick and slimed with his cum and her own juices.

She felt the place where his dick had gone, and remembered the way it had stretched her, crammed her.

She pushed her misgivings angrily out of her mind. After all, she was more than half-sure that Tom was fucking that bitch of a secretary in his office, that Allison cunt. And besides, with all his messing off with gambling, throwing away the money they'd so carefully nursed into an adequate, comfortable income.

Janet grabbed her clothing, not caring if the meager garments were wrinkled or creased by her careless handling. The shorts and top didn't have to look good at all. Their sole purpose was to show off what she had to exhibit.

She shook Koenig. "Out, Sid, out. Party time is over. And keep your mouth shut – understand?"

He nodded, still partially asleep, and began hoisting himself out of the bed.

"You won't mind that I don't see you to the door," she said. "You know your way around here pretty damn well, at least, you do now."

She turned to the door and left him there, slowly dressing. Yes, I know the score and maybe I should score some more before I'm done.

But even as she thought that, she felt a pang of guilt creeping up on her. If it didn't get her before she slept, it would when she awoke. She knew herself. And she knew that when all was said and done, she did love her husband.

The next morning brought rain and Tom sat at the kitchen table, a cup of cold coffee in front of him. Beside it was an ashtray. Full.

Janet stopped short in the doorway of the kitchen. She'd awakened filled with remorse and guilt – and worry. There was no sign that Tom had come home at all after he'd left the house in such furious haste the night before.

"We have to talk, Janet," he said, speaking td the cold coffee and cigarette butts.

She entered the kitchen, a vision of chestnut brown hair, warm flesh tones and blue nylon dressing robe. Beneath the robe she wore only panties. Her large breasts bobbled in reminder of the delights he'd too long neglected.

And she looked good, edible, flushed with her womanhood. Seeing her attitude, despite the regrets in her face and eyes, Tom couldn't help but know that what he'd feared had indeed transpired and that she looked the better for the wear.

She sat across the table from him, eyes sorrowful, nipples pointed at him.

He lit another cigarette. The silence stretched out.

"Tom," she finally said unsurely, and then the words tumbled out in a rush. "Tom, last night I…"

"No!" He silenced her. He shook his head. "No, don't say anything. It didn't happen." He took a deep breath.

"What…" He stopped, thought. "We've both made mistakes and I've been at the root of most of them."

"But I want you to know that…"

"And I think we'd better be a little bit more attentive to one another's wishes and needs. I'm willing to try." He said the last with an almost hopeful note, one that left the rest of the phrase hanging unsaid, unnecessary for words.

A single tear rolled down Janet's soft cheeks. She nodded and said, "All right," in a voice that caught on sadness in her lovely throat.

Janet dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and composed her features. Then she stood. "You better get dressed and cleaned up for work. I'll start the breakfast."

Tom stood and got ready for work and was nearly trampled by his daughter as she ran down the stairs. "Good morning, Daddy," she said with considerably more cheer than the morning deserved. Penny gave his stubbled chin and night-worn clothes a quick look of puzzlement, then shrugged and hurried on down into the kitchen.

He arrived at work early. In his mind, he had been devising the ways in which he would solve his problems – financial and marital – as he rode the train.

He was the first one in the office and the unaccustomed quiet of the floor only heightened the sense of unnatural clarity in his sleepless mind.

Allison stepped into his office at eight-fifteen, then froze when she discovered him already seated at his desk. Tom got up casually and then let his eyes sweep over her. For the first time since she'd come to work for him, she was dressed to kill. Black micro-skirt, high heels, hair long and flowing, and an almost transparent top which did nothing at all to conceal her ruby-tipped breasts moving tautly within.