Peter Jensen - The blackmailed mother book I

Now the hair was matted slick with her aroused cuntal secretions. "Oohhh, Martin," she panted. "You're going to be gone for so long."

"Just a couple of days if my plan goes well. No more than three."

"Too damned long for me, lover, and you know that no man can fill me they way you can. Oh… oh… oh, let me suck your beautiful prick before you leave. Oooohhhhh, please!"

Hot damn! Oliss thought as he selected a suit out of the closet. Cylvia is a real talent. She can turn a man on and fuck him every which-way! He'd called her from the office when he'd learned from his secretary about the sudden departure, acting the contrite husband just in case anybody heard. Now he had to be quick about it; couldn't miss the plane and his chances to land the miniskopos. He'd hurried home, only to find no bags packed but his loving mate stretched out with abandoned anticipation.

His pants, already sticky from the little drops of seminal emission caused by the thinking of his plot while in the board room, now bulged once more. He stifled a groan. "No… no, I've got to tell you about what you've got to do."

"Tell me afterwards." She reached up and undid two of his shirt buttons, then returned her left hand to the nipples of her breasts.

"No, now."

"I refuse to listen unless you take your clothes off and sit down beside me." She oscillated on the coverlet, moaning further as her hands sought the warm cavern of her hungry cunt. "C'mon, strip, lover-man. Strip for your wife."

"All… all right," he said, his voice quivering. He had to change anyway; might as well now as never. Have to keep control of myself, though. Too much to set up. He dropped his trousers and threw his shirt and tie over his jacket on the chair. When he pulled his underpants down, however, his cock leapt out to full erection, trembling with lust.

Cylvia stared at it, moistening her lips with her tongue as if she was already tasting its pungent male sperm. "Come on," she whispered throatily, "come on and sit down."

He did, but warned her, "First things first."

Cylvia snaked out her left hand again and closed it around his turgid expanse. She robbed it up and down, her tongue still flicking along her lips, her eyes hot on the huge, granite shaft and bulbulous head and the wrinkled sac of his testicles. "Please, Martin," she crooned, "I'm hot now and I want to suck you. Let your hot-boxed little wife suck you now and then you can tell me all about your plan."

"No," Oliss said firmly. He moved to the foot of the bed, watching her undulate her hips and slide her fingers in and out of her trembling, pink-rimmed vaginal hole. "Now you know Lonnie Carmel well enough so she trusts you. Well, get her drunk tonight or something, and into bed with somebody."

"Who?" Cylvia asked petulantly. She stretched out her leg and began to stroke his thigh with her toes, waggling her big toe upwards so she could reach the fleshy pole of his cock. "Who'll be the man?" She watched gleefully as her strokings made her husband shudder. He never could stay away for long…

"I don't care. Pick any one out of the swap group." He stopped, and then a wicked leer parted his lips. "No… no, get Sam Zeigler to be the straight man for Lonnie. Call him up after I leave and set it up, maybe at his club. After all," he said with a snicker, "he's got a vested interest in seeing that this ploy works."

"And he likes innocent, unwilling cunt," Cylvia said, "tons of it. He's almost as insatiable as you are, my love, when it comes to fucking."

As she spoke, she moved her buttocks down the bed so that she could once more seize his palpitating penis. She stroked it with her fingers as before, and before he was able to fend her off, she rose and pressed her lithe, tiger body against his, forcing him back in a prone position across the with of the bed.

"Damn it, Cylvia, I'm trying to tell you what you've got to do before my plane leaves. I…" Oliss paused as his wife trailed her soft, moist lips along the side of his neck, into the hollow of his throat, down along his bronze chest. She nuzzled the rigid tips of his male nipples, rolling her tongue back and forth across one and then the other. Finally she let her mouth roam down across the girth of his large, well-muscled stomach. Oliss groaned at her expert ministrations, and involuntarily thrust his hips up toward her. She scratched his cock lightly with her fingernails and over his testicles, reaching under his trembling body to probe briefly the puckered ring of his anus…

"The plan," Oliss continued weakly. "We… have to talk… about what… to do with… Jennifer."

Cylvia smiled wryly as she looked up for a moment with half-lidded eyes. "Don't worry about a thing, lover. I'll speak to Tamera when she gets home from school. I think she mentioned that Vic was taking her to one of those pot parties. And you know what happens at them."

Oliss knew; the teen age pot parties were almost as wild and debauched as the adult wife-swapping get-togethers. He still couldn't comprehend at what those kids did. Why at their tender age, he barely had learned that his cock was to piss out of, much besides how to stick it in a girl. Of course, when he had learned…

Cylvia was on all fours now, her mouth hovering over his erect penis. Then her warm lips closed over it, malting it throb with sensitivity. He lifted his head, unable to break away from the suckings, and he was all the more excited as he watched his wife bury his penis between her ovally pursed lips.

"Go-wa, go-wa on-a," she murmured around his cock as she plunged her head up and down in an oral simulation of a warm clasping cunt. At the same time she twirled her tongue around the moist stickiness of its blood-engorged head.

"Uuuuhhh," he panted. "You bitch, you Goddamned bitch… you… know I can't… go on." He gritted his teeth, willing himself to remain on the subject. "C-call me at the El Mecca Motel when… when you've… got her and… and her daughter screwing. I… I've got to plan my end of things from that time on… on… uhhhhh." Damn it, she'd won again, Oliss thought fuzzily, capitulating to the prurient sensations of her mouth and fingers. She always won, always got her way sexually, and she knew all the tricks in the book and some not written yet. "Ahhhhh," he panted. "If I miss my plane…"

Oliss lay back and shut his eyes and pretended that it was the pretty Lonnie Carmel sucking his penis. That it was Lonnie's – or better yet, that it was Jennifer's lipstick-lined mouth puckering as she sawed up and down. Well, if he had his way it would be one of these days. He'd shoot his load of cum deep into the throats of Roger Carmel's wife and daughter, first one and then the other of the females… and they'd love it…

"Suck me, Cylvia," Oliss urged. "Suck, suck, suck my cock!"

The blonde wife slaved above his loins, her body glistening from postules of lust sweat. The pressure grew and grew in her husband's testicles, and he arched his buttocks and strove hard against her face, feeling his curly pubic hair graze her chin and cheeks but not hearing the slightest whimper of protest. His final release of semen boiled inside him, building like a crazy whirling dervish toward its moment of ejaculation. His scrotum tightened…

And then…

Oliss felt the eruption as the first stream of white-hot fire leapt along the passage of his jerking cock. He gasped, his lips pulling back across his teeth. His penis pulsed and flooded without warning Cylvia's maddingly sucking mouth. The burning seed bloated her cheeks until she was forced to concentrate on swallowing rather them milking, and all the while she mewled and crooned and tickled his pounding balls with the tips of her fingers. With one last earth-shattering groan, Oliss emptied the last of his cum, and his penis started to deflate.