Ron Taylor - Wife on call

Of course the idea had been building in her head since yesterday, whet she and Mr. Ford watched his dirty movies, but she had never guessed that her mind curiosity would be fulfilled, and so Goddamned soon! Jesus! She had always known men were swapping her number around – that was SOP for call girls – but it had never crossed her mind that one of those men might pass the number along to a woman. Well, today she'd found out, and it had been fantastic. Kerry came into the kitchen and Pam swallowed the lump in her throat, wondering if she could possibly allow men – allow any man – to touch her again.

"Hi, babe," he whispered into her ear, and then his lips closed upon the lobe and she felt his warm, well-remembered tongue lick gently at her flesh. He put his hands on her waist and leaned against her ass, and she could feel something very hard and solid inside his pants. "Brought home a couple of things for you," he added. "Here's the other one." And his hand moved around in front and it was full of a bouquet of white roses, Pam's favorite. She smelled, sighed, and tried to collect herself.

Pam turned, took the roses. He was still leaning close, and now his boner, an erection that filled the front of his pants, pressed against her front. She'd bathed after coming home, mostly to remove the lipstick smears on her body, and right now she was wearing only a short robe and ice-blue panties. Kerry was fully dressed, but his cock was so blatantly erect he might as well have been naked, rubbing her the way he was.

"Are you all primed for the party?" he asked, kissing her neck.

"Mmmm-hmmm," she sighed. "But do we really have to go?"

"Ten-four," he said, undoing the sash of her robe. The garment opened and her tits spilled out, creamy-white, the pink nipples flushed still, in memory of the wonderful sucking and fingering they'd gotten a few hours ago from Ms. Hagen. One touch of his eager hands and her nipples stood up like pink flagpoles. "Oh, yeah," Kerry enthused, squeezing her nips between his fingers, his hands possessive and grasping on her flesh.

Pam sighed again, her tits lifting, swelling, and then his mouth was on hers and she sidled away from the lit stove behind her. When they got to the dishwasher, Kerry braked her with his leg and one of his thumbs hooked in the waistband of her panties.

"I can't help myself," he said, tugging the little blue undies down, "you just do something to me. It's called 'hardening my pecker'. Feel?"

He leaned in again, and this time his pants-covered bone touched Pam's furry twat. She was exquisitely tender there, thanks to the rough, incredibly erotic handjob Ms. Hagen had given her, and the very touch of him sent shivers of pain up and down her stomach.

"We'd better hurry," he observed, unzipping himself and hauling out his cock. It was a struggle getting it free, because he was so hard and the pants fit so tightly around his cock, and before he could expose himself properly he had to unbelt and unbutton his trousers. But when he did, his big stiff dick lunged out, and the hot ruby tip bounced onto Pam's taut stomach. She lifted up the back, and his knob slithered through her bush, and she wondered if she could go through with this at all. Making it with a man – even a man she loved – now – after what had just happened to her – could she?

"What about dinner?" Pam moaned, one of her tits a prisoner in his kneading hand.

"We can eat any time," he smiled, "but right now I feel like fucking." Kerry bit her chin. "Oh, don't worry, kid. Remember – we have that party to go to, and most likely we'll be too drunk to do anything but sleep when we get home. Mmmm, spread 'em for me, puss, spread 'em, yeah, let Daddy kiss you with his cock – Jesus, you're soaking wet! Say 'ahhhh' – oh, shit!!"

And with that he stuffed his tool up her slit, and she felt her cuntal walls expanding to make room for him, and suddenly he was in her to the balls and she was a live, squirming mass of flesh around him.

"Oh, Godddd…" Pam's voice was a quivery cry, and she had to grab his shoulders before she collapsed heavily upon him.

"Oh, Christ, you're hot inside, baby, and so wet I don't think I can get a foothold – yeah – screw yourself on me – mmmm, baby, you're doing it – fuck me, fuck me like a man – suck it up your pussy, Pam – God, do it, baby, do it for me…"

And, God, she was doing it, she was moving in quick, hungry plunges and lifts, dragging his cock all the way up her rippling, slippery-slick cuntal tube, then unsheathing him till only the fat horny head of his dong remained inside her, throbbing just within the portals of her pussy lips – and then swooping down again, swallowing him with vaginal hiccups that made him groan as if his balls were caught in a tightening vise.

"Yes," she panted, "let me have it, Kerry, take me like a whore, screw me till I can taste your fat beautiful cock in the bottom of my throat…"

And she meant it. Oh, Jesus, she meant it! Her cunt slavered for him as it had never slavered before, and she couldn't get enough of the rigid organ he kept jamming into her. The itch between her legs grew with maddening speed and intensity, and he couldn't fuck her fast enough to quell that desperate itching.

Or could she? Pam lifted one leg, wrapped it around Kerry's calves, and she plastered herself to him, still bobbing up and down on the rigid stalk of his dick, her ass swaying from side to side as her pussy gobbled him with gusto. She reached low, into his undone pants, and grabbed a handful of his ass, her fingers slipping into his crack where they could get at his balls from behind. God, such big, lovely balls too! She wished she could be down on him right now, sucking his cock and his stones with a hot mouth and frisky tongue – but she wanted it this way, too, his cock in her twat, big and hard and driving, sending her up the wall as he thrust, each stroke bringing her that much closer to ahot creamy come.

It hadn't changed. Nothing had really changed, Pam decided, her cunt twisting and twitching on Kerry's dong. She wrapped herself around him, drawing strength from his hard muscular body and his hard muscular dick, and she shared a little of her own weakness with him, but he was top enwrapped in his pleasure to notice. So much the better.

Oh, God, she thought, I've been such a fool! Going out day after day and whoring my body for the sake of money I don't need and cheap thrills I could have done without, too. But it was over. Today she'd crossed the line between adventure and danger, and the thought of how close she'd really come was a constant ache in her bosom, a flash of pain through her mind. Yes, it was all over. Definitely. Irrevocably. Patricia Wright had died sometime between four and six o'clock this afternoon and for Patricia Wright there would be no resurrection.

"I can't prop you up any more," Kerry muttered. "I've had a hard day. Let's lie down before my legs give out."

"Don't take it out of me," Pam implored. "Let me feel your cock inside me every minute of the day, every day, from now on. For God's sake, don't take it out."

He moved slowly, carefully, bringing her with him, and his pants fell as he settled onto, the floor. Pam ground her loins against him, making sure that his cock stayed within her clutching twat, and she came to rest upon his lap. Kerry lay back, thrusting up as his head and shoulders touched the floor, and he reached for his wife's pert, perky ass. She squealed when he grabbed her, and she began to ride him with a passion that made her stand-up fucking look tame by comparison.

She reared up, almost to the tip of his throbbing pecker, and she slammed down with sure, knowing wiggles of her ass, feeling him thrust to the very mouth of her uterus, the tip of his cock battering hard upon her cervix and her only regret was that she couldn't open a little wider and suck him up her belly, nestle his loving tool in the warm basket of her guts and, at last, feel him shooting off his load of thick cummy sperm deep in there.