Gilda Grayson: The exhibitionist wife

She knew instantly what he intended and tried to pull her hands free of his strong-fingered grip.

"Oh, God, Fred… that's no better than…" she began whiningly.

"No better than jacking-off…? You're right! I'm going to have my fun while you watch me… same as I watched you… being fucked by Vince Holloway!"

"… But, there's nothing in it… for me!"

"I know… and that's the way I want it!"

Holding her hands in place to push up and close the space between her lovely, white breasts, he moved forward to thrust the head of his cock into the tight, fleshy channel they made.

"Now, hold those luscious tits of yours just like that!" he ground out at her, taking his hands away to place them flat on the bed, supporting himself on muscular arms above her, as he began to saw the pulsing shaft of his cock in and out in a fucking motion.

Evelyn was dismayed, but she obeyed him, pressing her full-mounded and now tingling breasts up to form the substitute sex channel between them. She felt the humiliation and debasement of it keenly… But, I suppose it's better than having my eyes blackened… or being sodomized, like he threatened. Of course, she had known that she was playing with dynamite… when she had agreed to make love to Vince, but she had not reckoned with Thelma Holloway. The statuesque blonde had insisted on making it a trio… had actually made most of the seductive overtures. Evelyn shivered with the memory of what it had been like with Thelma. God! Such delicious sensations!

She tried to feel some guilt about what she had done, but it came out more like the child, who caught with his hands in the cookie jar, is more chagrined with being caught in the act than suffering guilt for stealing the goodies. I just had to do it… because I really thought Fred couldn't do it often enough… to keep me satisfied! Had she searched deeper into herself, she may have discovered, perhaps, that no one man could satisfy her. There are women like that. Evelyn was probably one of them.

Feeling the warmly throbbing shaft of her husband's prick sliding in and out between her breasts, she became aware of a tingling thrill coursing through the soft mounds of flesh, and unconsciously her hands began to knead them closer around the plunging shaft of his cock. It was a new and different sensation; one she had never before experienced. He wants me to feel put down… and I suppose that I deserve it!

… But, the humiliation he wanted her to feel; indeed, what she did feel for a few moments, was rapidly being dispelled, to be replaced with a glowing arousal. She could feel it spreading down through her belly, igniting a banked fire in her loins. God! I'm getting hot! Maybe she could… but it was too much to hope for. Looking up into her husband's face, she saw that he was totally involved, his face hanging slack, his eyes glazed with passion, and she knew that it would be over for him in just a few moments. Maybe later… I could work on him… get him hard, again, and get him to fuck me… for real…

Straddling his wife's trembling torso and wantonly shoving his hard, demanding cock in and out of the soft tunnel of flesh between her luscious breasts, Fred Holden felt the tightening and relaxing around his throbbing length caused by her kneading hands on them. He knew that he was going to cum any second, now and that what he was doing was little better than a sophisticated masturbation; however, it was the only way he knew to humiliate and debase her.

"I'm going to cum… in just a little while," he grunted down at her, "and I'm going to let it shoot all over you!"

"All right… darling… if that's what you want…" Evelyn murmured.

"Damn right… that's what I want! I want you to feel dirty!"

… Then, he felt the searing burn of his semen as it began its hosing journey through the tube of his hardened prick. He was cumming! It spurted from the slitted tip of his cock to splash white and hot on her chest and in the hollow of her neck. "AAaagh!" he grunted. "There, bitch! How do you like that… from your impotent husband…?"

What could she answer? There wasn't anything to say. He had done it… and there was only one thing she could do: take a shower and clean herself up. There was that feeling of being half aroused, and she could do something about that… later.

Panting for breath, Fred held himself in position above his wife, until she began to squirm beneath him in an attempt to free herself from his pinning body.

"Let me up, now…" Evelyn whined pleadingly, "I've got to take a shower!"

"Yeah… okay…" he agreed, flopping over to his side, as she wriggled free and hopped off the bed, heading for the bathroom. He stopped her with a restraining hand. "And while you're at it… get yourself clean… inside and out!"

She questioned him with her eyes.

"Maybe we can both have some fun… later…" he promised.

"God, Fred… I was hoping you'd say that!" his wife smiled with relief.

"… And, much later on… we've got to do some serious talking!" Fred smiled meaningfully.

"About… me…?"

"About us!"

He released her arm and giving her an affectionate slap on the buttocks, said, "Go ahead and get cleaned up… and I might even let you suck me for a little while!"

Evelyn hurried, feeling a rising excitement glowing in her, secure in the knowledge that tonight she would have a real hot-blooded husband… for a change, and on reflection as she stepped into the shower, she was glad for that change.

"Now, Susan… if you'll sort of slide down to the edge of the stool, then lean back on your elbows… That's it! Just fine, now. Hold it!" The man speaking was squatting on the floor, focusing his camera on her naked loins, and Susan Merril following his directions to the letter, obediently did his bidding. "Now… just spread your legs, nice and wide. I want to get a couple of shots from this angle!"

Slowly, she allowed her thighs to part, exposing the whole of her genital area to the stranger's eyes and the probing lens of his camera.

"Like this…?" Susan asked amiably.

"Yeah… that's fine! Hold it just like that!" His camera clicked, and immediately he thumbed the mechanism to the next frame. "A little wider, now!" He came in closer, focusing his lens for a close-up, snapped the picture and said. "That's just great!"

Standing up, then, he stepped back and looked at her nude figure critically. He was obviously a successful business man. Dressed impeccably, hair trim done by razor-cut, nails manicured to perfection, his hands soft and white, graying at the temples and his body a little flabby, he was probably well past fifty-five years of age. In his wallet he no doubt would be carrying pictures of two or three grandchildren, the oldest perhaps nine or ten years old, and at home there would be a past middle-age wife… yet he was here in this Rent-a-Model studio taking obscenely pornographic pictures of a lovely, blue-eyed, blonde woman, young enough to be one of his daughters.

It was nearing the end of the thirty minute picture taking session, for which her client had paid twenty dollars, and Susan Merril stood to her feet, reaching for a light wrapper she had shed when he had come into the small, intimate studio carrying his own camera bag.

Impersonally, acting according to her instructions and functioning more like a sales clerk than a nude model, she said, "We can do the developing and printing here for you, Sir."

She was shrugging into her cover-up garment, and he glanced with surprise at his elegant, gold wristwatch, seeing that barely a minute remained of his half-hour. A look of undisguised disappointment passed over his handsome features.

"All right… I'll leave the film for processing… but look we still have about a minute, and I've got just two shots left, Miss…? Couldn't I…"