Ron Taylor: Wife on call

"You ought to take better care of yourself," he said. "After all, you belong to me. Here. Let me kiss your little hurt and make it feel better." And, without breaking the cock-cunt insertion, he stooped, lifting her tit, and he lovingly kissed the bruise he'd discovered. Would he, she thought, be kissing my tit if he knew that he was the fourth man to kiss it today?

He was stiff as a board when she wiggled out of his grasp and left him standing in the shower. "Come back here!" he shouted. "You can't leave me in this condition. It's un-American! I knew this state should never have ratified the ERA. It's given women a blank check to destroy us men."

Pam stuck out her tongue as she dried herself and slipped into a short Japanese robe. "Follow me," she said. "I have plans for that disgusting specimen of your macho illusions. To the kitchen, about-to-be-destroyed male chauvinist! To the kitchen!"

When he came out she was in the kitchen. The steaks were broiling and Pam was busy tossing a salad. The French fries and anion rings were almost ready to come out of the oven, and a lovely dinner would soon be on the table. "You look obscene," she told her husband, pointing to the awkward distension of his short housecoat, distended where his cock thrust out in unsatisfied erection. "Obscene, but lovable. Come here. I want you to fuck me while I cut up the vegetables."

She leaned forward, her ass lifting slightly. Kerry grinned and hurried to join her. He pulled up the tail of her robe, and for a moment he was content to fondle her bare ass, tracing the curvature of her hips, sliding his finger up and down her crack. "This is a new one, isn't it?" he wondered, opening his robe so that his cock could bounce forth, free and ready.

"Not really," Pam replied. "I remember at least one time you balled me at the stove while I was stirring the chili. Of course, you were a lot younger and more virile then. I figured I'd let you off easy this eveningggggg-uullllpppp!"

He was in her then, driving his cock fast and hard and deep, and Pam jerked forward each time he shot the meat to her. "I don't think I'll let you off easy," he said, skewering her with his rod.

"Goddamned good thing for you, too," she groaned, dropping the knife and a half-sliced radish. Pam grabbed the rim of the table and braced herself, ass wiggling and twitching every time he filled her with his dong. "Maybe you're, not over the hill after all," she said huskily.

"Who the hell said I was?" he wanted to know. Kerry grabbed his wife by the ivory curves of her buttocks and began to work her rhythmically while he fucked. As if Pam needed the slightest bit of assistance! She was bucking at him like a machine shoved into overdrive, and she was familiar enough with her subconscious to know that some of it was compensation to reward Kerry for the wife he didn't know about. Some, but not all. God, he was so gooooddddd, the best she'd ever found, the best she'd ever find! When he slipped her his cock, as he was doing right now, she knew that her life had purpose. Pam Wilson's mind soared as her body exulted, and she felt a quivering orgasm burst suddenly in her belly, hurtling down the tube of her cunt, exploding all around Kerry's thrusting cock.

"AAAHRHHH!" she wailed, the table jiggling as she writhed against it. There'd be no need to toss the salad, she decided, watching the bowl of sliced and chopped vegetables jerk each time she lifted onto tiptoes and sucked Kerry up her hot clutching twat.

"Take it, baby – you deserve a break today," he was quipping, still holding her firmly by the ass, ramming his meat up her tunnel. Meat! My God! She could smell the steaks cooking – they had to be taken out of the broiler at once – in just another minute they'd be overdone – Kerry liked his meat the way he liked his pussy – hot and steamy, pink and wet an the inside… "The steaks…" Pam moaned, breaking free of her husband's possessive hands and completely disimpaling herself from his prick. She heard him groan as she ran to the stove and removed the broiling pan. "Ahhh," she said, "just in time!"

When she turned around, Kerry was standing by the table where she'd left him, his face almost dead white, his cock thrust out in a blazing red erection which pointed its single eye at her in accusation. Pam was jelly from her tits to her toes, but her head was still in working order and she saw his problem at once. She'd worked herself off, cunt as juicy as the steaks they'd soon be eating, but he was still up and needed his release. Well, who could give it to him better than she could?

She moved slowly toward the table, cupping her breasts in offering, the nipples hard and pink. The sash of her robe had come untied and she was exposed fully, and the look in her husband's eyes told her that the exposure was gorgeous. He grabbed his cock and began to stroke himself passionately, his eyes full of his wife's beauty.

Pam's eyes flashed and she remembered something. "No! Don't waste it! I want to…"

She ran to the table, scooped salad into her bowl, and then she knelt before him, the bowl in one hand, his cock in the other. "What are you gonna do?" he asked, bewildered.

Pam giggled. "I'm trying a new recipe." She kissed the end of his dick, tasted the hot flavor of his sperm, and she knew that he couldn't hold back more than a few moments longer. The workout in her snatch had sapped his will power. She wrapped her hand around his rod and started stroking him quickly, her hand flying on his hot, stiff pecker. She leaned close and blew warmly across the end of him, and she felt a shiver run up his penile length. Kerry grabbed her by the head tenderly.

"I'm gonna…" he started to say, but by the time he got the words out they were totally unnecessary. His cum began to fly from the slitted end of his dong and Pam aimed him downward at the bowl of salad she held in her other hand. In moments the lettuce and endive and tomato and radish were thick and viscous with a coating of Kerry's jism.

"That's it," she encouraged, shaking his softening prick as the last few droplets of sperm fell into her salad. She looked up, smiling like a Raphael Madonna. "They say it's more nourishing titan oil and vinegar," she said, "and I know it tastes better." Her tongue appeared between her lips, just the tip of it, sliding slowly from side to side. "Tie up your robe," she added, rising. "You shouldn't come to dinner naked."

"Are you going to eat that?" he asked. "Really going to?"

Pam turned. "Why in the hell shouldn't I? I eat it from the fountain, don't I? And I think it ought to be delicious on vegetables. If it is, we'll maybe see about putting it on the market. Wilson's New Improved Salad Dressing. Drive Seven Seas and all the other companies right out of business."

He was still looking at her. With a smile, Pam mixed the cum into her salad, then daintily ate as much as she could pick up with thumb and finger.

"Mmmmm," she said. "Much better than oil and vinegar. Not so oily, not so vinegary." Before she could put down the bowl he was on her again. "The French fries and onion rings are burning," she said, "or they will be."

"Fuck 'em."

"My, my, I thought you only went for girls. Are you into vegetables too?"

He started laughing and she knew that it was over for the time being. Well, good enough. They could pick up where they'd left off when bedtime rolled around. And from the gleam in Kerry's eyes, his wife suspected that he might want to sack in a little early this evening.

Part of it was the cum for salad dressing trick. He watched her hungrily as she ate the semen-coated salad, and she ate with more relish than the vegetables deserved, licking her lips after each bite. The steak was perfect and he sawed into the rare-cooked meat, but she knew that he was thinking about and even more perfect piece of meat and how soon he could saw into it again. See? she told herself. What do you have to be ashamed of? You can give your husband all the pussy he can handle. You're not hurting him, you're certainly not hurting yourself.