William Davis - The Polaroid club book II

Ralph Taylor did, his cock hardening into a throbbing beast as he carefully helped his salesman's wife to semi-stand and squeeze between the two seats. Her motions were jerky and fumbling; she wouldn't have been able to stand, he thought, not now after all that booze. But she sprawled on the rubber matting of the back section, not minding or even being aware that her short dress had slipped up around her panties. Taylor sucked in his breath as he saw the thinly covered pubic mound become exposed… then he squeezed back there with her, and the two of them lay side by side in the cramped quarters, and he placed his hands around her and held her to him.

Taylor stroked the very inebriated young wife's golden hair lightly, gently, comfortingly. And in a smooth, rich tone of voice he intoned, "Don't think about it, Cindy. Don't think about that strange man and you and how you looked on your bed, about the passion you two were experiencing, don't think about it at all…"

In the tortured, stupefied confusion of her mind, Cindy Jamison couldn't help thinking about what she and Samuels had done – and why. She remained in her husband's boss' gently pressing embrace, stretched out in the back of the station wagon, a dreamy torpor making her lightheaded and giddy. His words flowed like honey, soothing and hypnotic… and although she didn't want to think about what she had done with the postal clerk, his soporific voice dredged still more from her subconscious mind. She sobbed into the thin material of Taylor's shirt, finding security in his masculine nearness and the gentle stroking of his hand on her bare arm. And horribly, perversely, the images in her drunken brain started to have a certain physical effect on her dazed mind as well. She could feel an odd twitching in her belly, and for some crazy reason she sensed that her nipples were hardening in her bra cups. She tried to will her body to cease its evil awakening and her mind to stop the vivid remembrances – but nothing she tried to do would work. And what was Ralph Taylor saying? The same as his wife Norma, had told her?

"… You're all woman, Cindy. Of course you couldn't help but enjoy his penis inside you. Of course you liked his tongue on your lips and between your legs. You couldn't help not liking it, Cindy. You're a real woman… a sexually alive woman…"

He continued to stroke her shoulder, letting his hand slide slowly down. Cindy had stopped crying now, though her face was still pressed to his shirt, and he sensed that his caress had quickened her breath. He teased the ridge of her spine, pressing his horizontal body closer to hers, and he whispered into her hair bolder and bolder words: "You and the clerk were making love, Cindy. No, you were fucking, Cindy. But you mustn't think badly of yourself for your actions. Everyone likes to fuck…"

Cindy was breathing faster now, and the manager could hear this drunken little wife of his salesman trembling with her reactions. Well, if there was ever a moment to give it everything, this was it!

Taylor brought his hand casually from her shoulder to the swelling mound of her breast. He began to rub the pliant globe tenderly through the thin dress and bra, and there was a sharp intake of breath from the beautiful wife and a sudden stiffening of her body and a convulsive kneading of his shirt. But she made no move to pull away! The sales manager grinned eagerly, knowing he had won, that she would be his, and he ran his thumb over her rock-hard nipples, his heart pounding in his chest and his cock leaping in the cage that was his shorts and pants.

A warning scream tried to penetrate the fogged, drugged lethargy which inundated Cindy Jamison's mind, tried to warn her that something was going to happen if she didn't pull away. And yet, unexplainably, his hand on her breast felt good… and his voice, so far away to her ears, made everything sound right. It was as if the sangria and the bourbon had been some liquid cement, gluing her to this position, making her unable to move at all… and the pinwheel thoughts in her mind made her not really want to move… not yet…

And then the manager's hand slid down from her breasts and went to her bare thigh, sliding up along the hot skin under her new dress. Higher and higher – until his fingers were touching the silk-encased mound of her vagina. He slipped up and down the now moist furrow from the outside, then pushed the secreting crotchband of her panties aside and slipped his middle finger into the wet, trembling passage of Cindy's suddenly hotly burning young cunt.

The distraught, nearly comatose from alcohol, wife squirmed up tighter against the sales manager with the contact of his finger against her naked flesh. Her whole being began to oscillate and she moaned in staccato cadence. The warning voice of before tolled again through the swamp which was her fevered mind: wrong… wrong… I love Howie, I must be faithful to him… not Ralph… not with Ralph… stop it… stop it…

But she couldn't stop it. She was incapable of pulling away, and she could only lie there in the back of the station wagon and let her husband's boss continue to work his hand down between her legs, to tease the hard bud of her clitoris and revel in her soft, elastic vaginal opening.

Christ, Taylor thought, she really turns on, just like I hoped she would, damn well knew she would after that night she unknowingly sucked my cock… She's all fired up for a good fuck, and when a woman like her gets that way, nothing else matters. He whispered in her ear: "Cindy, baby, help me… help me take your panties off…"

"No…" came the feeble answer. "Oh, God, no, Ralph!"

"Yes…" he hissed back, and he moved around so that he hovered over her limply splayed legs, removing his finger from her wet, trembling pussy. He bunched her dress around her waist and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and slid them down slowly over her full rounded young thighs and hips. Cindy tried to stop him, to yell out to leave her alone… but her body was controlled by other forces and, in spite of her hesitation, she found herself raising her hips obediently. And then her softly hair-lined cunt came into moonlit view, and Taylor gazed salaciously at it, his mouth watering at the beautiful sight.

The sales manager drove his head savagely downward, unable to control his lusting emotions, and his lips mashed onto her vaginal lips, his tongue parting the softly curling pubic hair and slipping teasingly down the pink-rimmed valley. Cindy shuddered and involuntarily her legs spread a little wider, allowing him further room. She whined sharply and convulsed into lurches as his long, hot tongue speared her quaking flesh. And as he flicked his mouth and tongue around the velvety soft interior of her vagina, he unbuckled his pants and pushed them with his shorts down, allowing them to tangle around his ankles. Now that he had the little bitch so hot and ready, he did not want to take the time to fully undress. He was afraid she might suddenly come to her senses and all would be lost.

Cindy's mind was in complete turmoil now, the blood fever of his touch and then his mouth filling her with animal wantonness – yet the other part, the portion so satiated with alcohol as to render it nothing more than a protest in vain, cried out that this was wrong… all wrong and must stop!

And suddenly, Taylor stopped.

He raised his head and grinned triumphantly down at her, his lips and chin wet with her sexual secretions.

"Ralph… Ralph… Ralph…" was all that the crazed young housewife was able to chant to the manager.

"I'm going to fuck you now, my sweet little friend. I'm going to put my long, hard cock inside your pussy and cum in it." And with those words, the lasciviously grinning sales manager moved across the unresisting body of his salesman's wife. He held his long lust-hardened cock at the open mouth of her moist palpitating cunt, and then he levered forward, sending his sensitive, hungry cock sliding hotly, deliciously far up into her quivering young belly.