Roger Grayson: A Neighborhood Party

"And, ooh, he'll be throwing it to you, oooh," he moaned again, reaching down and tangling his hands tightly in her hair to guide the rhythm of her bobbing head below. He lifted his head slightly from the pillow to watch her contorted face. It made the sensation that much more exciting when he could see the thickness of his rod buried between her sucking lips.

"Go-wa on-a," she mumbled around his plunging instrument, struggling to get the words out and at the same time increase the twirling of her tongue around the moist stickiness of the blood-inflated head.

"Fuck it, you can wait to hear the goddamn story," Harry growled as she began to suck a little harder. "You just suck it baby, and Daddy'll tell you all about it later."

He looked at the mirror on the wall facing the bed so he could get a good profile look at his wife's face as his hardening shaft began to saw rhythmically in and out of her ovaled mouth. The very sight of it caused his loins to tense and jerk into her face until in the mirror it looked as though he were sinking the full length of it all the way down her throat. Almost all of it seemed to disappear with each hard thrust he made until only a little stretch of it showed white and glistening protruding from between her lips.

Her tongue, with a nerve-tingling lick on the outstroke was making the head throb and jerk as though his heart itself were beating inside. He watched, hypnotized in the mirror, watching the flesh of her lips being pulled out grotesquely, clinging to the flesh of his prick as she sucked hungrily, her mind caught up in the task with all her concentration. Her breasts jerked and danced below her pumping torso, adding to the lust-inciting picture presented to him in the glass.

"Suck it, baby, suck it," he hissed, dropping his head back heavily on the pillow and pretending for the moment it were the blonde in the tight shorts next door. Goddamn, he'd like to have her like this, ramming it deep in her throat. By God, he'd shove it all the way down to her tonsils when he did get her. He'd pump his hot sperm all the way down- her throat and into that white little belly of hers until she burst.

"Come on, baby, come on," he grunted as his wife slaved below, her body beginning to glisten from the tiny droplets of sweat forming over her skin. He felt like pissing as he felt the pressure growing in his balls. He knew it wouldn't be long now. His cock felt like it was filled with lead and ready to explode like the popping of a giant balloon that when it went would spew its insides for miles in all directions. He shoved his loins hard up against her face, hearing her protesting mumble that went unheeded in his quest for the final end of this torture that was building – building – building until all at once he felt the white hot stream begin deep in his balls and race steam-like the length of his plunging cock. He gasped and his lips bared back over his teeth as though being tortured by fire.

His cock began a sudden wild staccato jerking that flooded without warning his wife's wildly sucking mouth with gust after gust of the white-hot sperm, bloating her cheeks outward with each bullet-like spurt until she swallowed to keep from choking, mewling and crooning at his thrusting loins.

"Don't stop, baby, keep sucking, keep sucking!" he gasped as his hands tangled tighter in her hair, convulsively ramming his cork farther and farther down her throat. She went on sucking wildly as he continued shooting his load deep, deep into her mouth.

With one last earth-shattering groan, he emptied the last of his sperm into her lips but she went on nibbling gently, sucking every last drop from the spurting gland.

Gradually, the satiated penis deflated in her mouth. Harry threw his arms out to the side in exhaustion, a great sigh of relief escaping from his lips. She lay for awhile with her head on his thigh, still nibbling gently at the limp, useless penis in front of her and then she crawled up over his belly and kissed him hard on the lips.

"What happened to my story, lover?" she teased softly, smiling down at him with a slight sparkle of triumph in her eyes.

"Why you little bitch! You had that planned all along, didn't you?" Harry half growled, half groaned. "Imagine picking on a guy ten years older than you."

"You'll have your chance to get even, dear, I'll see to that in a few minutes. Now tell me the happy ending about how you'll talk Mr. Big next door into coming out for dinner."

"Simple, love, I'll do a little shifting of my funds. We have so much money invested in stocks his boss old man Jordan'll do anything I say to get it. He can't very well turn down a dinner invitation with a client, can he?"

"My you are clever," his wife teased as she reached her hand down and felt him hardening again. "And, an insatiable old bastard too," she grinned, feeling the moisture rising between her thighs. She knew it was going to be a long, delicious night and she smiled silently to herself in anticipation.

Carol Benson hummed softly to herself as she sat before the dressing table combing out her long silken blonde hair. A tiny pout lined her lips as she struggled momentarily against a particularly stubborn snag that impeded the smooth course of the brush running downward toward her shoulders.

"Ninety eight, ninety nine, and one hundred, there finished." she breathed in relief. She hated this morning ritual, but had been doing it since she was a little girl. It was one of those things her mother had insisted on as being healthy for the hair and she had to admit it had certainly helped her to retain that soft golden look, although, she sometimes wondered if it wouldn't have remained that way anyway. She took a long last critical look at it and then apparently satisfied, began to deftly apply her make up. It took but a moment as she didn't use much; just a touch of natural colored lipstick, that added a slight flesh color to her already full sensuous lips, and a quick line of eye make-up, that did nothing more than accentuate slightly their light hazel beauty.

Cocking her head to one side, she surveyed the results of her work. She liked it and in spite of her inbred modesty, had to admit to herself that she was a very pretty little girl. She must be, she smiled, she had landed Bob for a husband and that had been a coup d'etat of the first order. She must have had at least ten serious rivals at the office who had been trying with every wile they possessed to land him. But she had won after a short struggle and that was the important thing. Not every girl got the most promising young executive in a banking company this size for a husband.

He was going to be a success and a big one, there was no doubt in anyone's mind about that and in the three years since they had been married he had started very well. He was working for one of the best banks in California and now after just five years with them he had been given this chance in the main office to handle their investment accounts all on his own. Mr. Jordan, the president of the company, had even taken them out to dinner several weeks ago when Bob's promotion had been announced. He had told her confidentially while they had been dancing together that he expected big do all in her power to help him. It had really made it right to the top before too many years had passed. He also had complimented her on her graciousness and added that a good wife was also one of the keys to success in this business and he thought Bob had done well in that respect too. This had made her feel wonderful and she had promised herself that she would do all in her power to help him and had really made her feel like a partner in his success. This was supposedly the key element in a good marriage and made her feel needed in the strictest sense. Of course, she always gave Bob full credit for his successes and stayed pretty much in the background except to always look pretty and act hospitable at the many social functions they had to attend and to keep her husband as happy as possible at home. This she thought she was doing, though sometimes it was hard to tell. He was so wrapped up in learning his new job, and with all the things she had to do to move into this new house, they both just collapsed in the evenings after dinner. It hadn't given them much time together, not even for lovemaking, and this worried her. Not because she liked it so much, but because he didn't seem to need her as much or as often as he did a few weeks ago.