Ron Taylor: Wife on call

Her eyes were shut tightly, hair fell into loose strands and clumps across her face, and little mewing sounds seeped through her half-closed lips. "Mmmm-mmmm…" she purred. "Yessss – more – oh, God, more, mooooorrrreee!"

But he was giving her all he had, mid she knew even as she moaned for a little extra, that what he had was sufficient. The come was forming in her guts. It would roll down her cuntal tube in a moment, drown the pair of them, soak the bed all the way down to the underside of the mattress probably flood the entire Goddamned Hartford House in the bargain. When she came wet, she came fuckin' Wetttttt, man, and she was going to come so wet, sooo wettttt – "Aaaaaeeee…" Her cry of orgasm was a moaning keen, burst from her suddenly ovaled lips, tongue fluttering like a red pennant in the aperture. Drool ran from the corners of her mouth and she was a tornado, swirling and spiraling as he tried to hold her down so he could finish his own act.

Pam made that as difficult as possible. She bucked and fought and tried to swallow him up her sucking gash, and when he did give up the struggle, squirt his juices into her bottomless pit of arousal, she was hardly aware of the ejaculation. She was still squirming and whining and writhing, and only the sudden deflation of his hard-on told her that Richard Mason too had gotten his money's worth from this bed battle. If he'd stayed up, she'd have gladly given him a second shot free, but his cock went soft and stayed soft.

Her pussy was full of cum – hers and his – all mixed and mingled together, and she smelled like a cheap whorehouse on payday night. She loved that smell and she lay on the bed, basking in it, while Richard went to the bathroom. When he returned, he was fully dressed. "Sorry," he said. "I have an appointment at two o'clock. Are you busy tonight? I'd like to see you again."

Her eyes enlarged but she tried to conceal the surprise. She knew she was good – everyone had told her that as long as she'd been fucking – but to meet a man who was willing to buy her cunt at one hundred dollars a crack? Whew!!

"I can't," she said, thinking of her husband, and he understood. At least, he understood what she meant him to understand. Prior commitment. "Maybe tomorrow?" she heard herself say aloud, and it took Pam's breath away.

"I'm flying home first thing in the morning. Listen – could I have your number? I'm in the city several times a year and I'd really like to get together again. I travel a lot, and I'm not too proud to admit that I visit a lot of working girls, but I've never found one with your enthusiasm. God, I don't even know your name!"

She was going to lie, but she remembered her purse. It was monogrammed PW. "Patricia Wright," she said, improvising around her initials. "Meet me in the lobby in about ten minutes and I'll give you a number where you can reach me. All right?"

She hurried down on the elevator and went to the nearest phone booth. Thank God the hotel kept vandals from ripping off phone books! She turned to the yellow pages and ran her finger down the list of answering services. She'd known a girl once who worked for a place like that, said it was nothing but a pimping agency for call girls – all the clients were hookers – that whole scene. There! LOGAN ANSWERING SERVICE. That was it. She'd stake her life on it. She dialed the number, learned that Logan Answering Service was delighted to accept a new client named Patricia Wright. She promised to send a check for the monthly rate first thing in the morning and in return was given a phone number to which Patti's calls could be directed.

"Here," she told Richard Mason when he came downstairs. "Call me here next time you're in town."

He took the number she'd written on a slip of note paper and tucked it securely into his wallet. A wallet that was lighter by one hundred dollars. "I won't lose this," he promised. "I really want to see you again."

Pam smiled. "Hurry back, darling. I'll be waiting." And as she watched him walk away, she found herself thinking – what in the name of God had she gotten herself into?

It was a little past six when Kerry Wilson came through the front door of his home and, as always, Pam was waiting for him. Deliciously. He closed the door behind him and looked his wife up and down, his eyes starting to glow. "Missed you," she husked, extending her arms. "Really missed you." Her dark hair was piled up on her head, a lacy white ribbon twined among the girls, wispy ringlets hanging with apparent unconcern. Besides the white ribbon, Pam was wearing only a pair of thigh-top stockings, low-heeled shoes that lifted her eyes into direct line with her husband's, and four drops of Jean Nate perfume.

"One of these days I'm gonna surprise you," he told her. "I'll bring home some of the guys from work and there you'll be, all decked out like the total woman or whoever. C'mere, lady!"

She'd gotten the idea from one of those anti-women's lib books on how to be a passive, delightful wife. The philosophy was crap, in general, Pamela thought, but some of the hints for being sexier and more appealing were just what the doctor ordered. Like this one. Kerry loved her all naked and cunty, and the least she could do was to give him what he loved. She melted into his arms, her mouth open and wet, planting itself upon his.

Mmmmm! She could taste booze, on his breath. He'd probably stopped after work for a couple of boilermakers with, some of his friends. A few drinks always made him super-horny, and when he got super-horny… She rubbed her crotch against him, felt his cock grow inside his pants. Her arms laced around him and she kept rubbing. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and he began to suck lasciviously. Did that give him the right idea? Oh, she hoped so!

His cock certainly had the right idea! It was up big and fierce in his pants, straining to be free. He was holding her by the ass, fingers active in her crack, and he began to stroke her pussy from behind as she leaned even closer, tying her legs and arms around him, splitting herself wider. They were sucking the breath out of one another's lungs now, and her lips and chest ached from the passion of the kiss. Moaning low, Pam forced her mouth from his.

"What do you want to do?" he asked. "Fuck first, or eat supper first?"

Pam smirked. It was an old routine with them. "Oh, whatever you want," she sighed, "but supper isn't ready."

He laughed, and his hands flew to her big, bouncy tits.

She wasn't sure how long it took them to wind up on the fake-fur rug before the fireplace, and she didn't really remember undressing Kerry but there were his clothes, scattered from the doorway to the rug, and here he was, minus those clothes, his dick thrust up in giant erection, her small hot fists wrapped around the shaft as she eyed the beauty of his swollen purplish knob.

He was sitting up, his legs far apart, and Pam was on her hands and knees between his legs, using, her eyes alone to make passionate love to her husband's pecker. "Do it," he panted, "do it for me, babe!"

She tightened her fists on him, squeezing till the end of his dick grew moist and slippery with escaping pre-cum fluid, and then she began to lick him.

Slowly, very slowly, her tongue gliding across the tip of Kerry's rod like a movie being projected at two frames per second. She let her tongue meld with the throbbing spongy glans of his cock, and she treated herself to the excitement of his taste, of his male heat.

"Yeah!" he gasped, trying to fuck himself up into her mouth; "Don't stop now!"

She had no intention of stopping. Pam licked him again, the tip and the highly sensitive portion of the shaft just beneath the knob, and then she took his crown into her mouth and started sucking it with loud, greedy smacks and slurps. Her hands kept steady for a moment, but she couldn't hold them in place forever. Almost without knowing it, she found her fists beginning to slide erotically on his dong, rising and failing up and down the hard throbbing column. She could feel, too, Kerry's pulse beating inside his cock, beating at an ever-increasing tempo that certainly matched her own heartbeat, and she took her hands away quickly, freeing all his cock for her mouth.