Jessica Adair - Wife on vacation

Liz's mouth returned to his rapidly swelling cock. With her expert oral attentions, his prick had come to life again. Taking his cock from her mouth, Liz began licking up and down the sides of his prick eagerly. Coming to the ridge of his cockknob, her tongue circled its outline, skimmed across his velvet prick skin and darted into his tiny cum-slit.

Then Liz shifted her oral attentions to the sweet little brown sac hanging behind his rapidly stiffening cock. Sucking his balls into her mouth, she rolled them from side to side and caressed them with her flicking tongue. The sucks and tugs continued until Rick pulled away and shoved his rigid cock roughly into her mouth once again.

Almost choking, the auburn-haired beauty struggled to remove his big prick from her throat, but Rick grabbed huge handfuls of her flowing hair and used it to pull her closer still. Holding her hair tightly, he fucked his cock through her mouth into the narrow constriction of her throat.

Liz felt her air being choked off and fought to get away. It was no use. Placing a knee on one of her shoulders, Rick kept her from squirming.

"Knock it off, bitch," he growled. "Relax and take it all, or I'll really hurt you!"

Gagging and gasping on his outstroke, she was finally able to regain her breath. His cruel fucks into her stretched throat continued with considerable force. His knee rested on her shoulder causing a shooting pain that almost blotted out the agony in her throat.

"Oh, yeah, baby! I'm gonna cum. Suck me now, I'm cumming! Aaaaaaahhhhhhh!"

Cum spurted into Liz's mouth and against the back of her terribly strained throat until gism filled her windpipe. Its consistency was thinner this time, and Liz quickly gulped it down to clear her breathing passage. A few more hard sucks extracted the last of his warm fuck juice into her mouth.

Pulling Liz over onto her side, Rick's attention returned to her enormous tits. Nuzzling between them, he lay with his face buried in her soft tit-flesh until he fell asleep.

Liz remained still for some time listening to his snares rising from between her tits. When she was certain that Rick had completely surrendered to the effects of the alcohol he had drunk, she worked her way out of his grasp. Rising quietly she dressed and hurriedly left the apartment.

While waiting for a taxi the terrible reality of the evening pushed its way into her numbed consciousness. Her entire body was bruised and battered. Her shoulder still throbbed from being pinned by his knee, and her aching tits were already showing early signs of the bruises that would cover them by morning.

I'd rather take my chances with muggers than spend one more moment with that violent creep, she told herself. And he didn't even have the decency to get me off!

She had learned a lesson from the evening, and it wasn't much of a consolation to know that she had left a bit of a lesson for Rick also. At least she had left him something to think about when he woke up in the morning.

The sun was streaming into the apartment when Rick began to stir the next morning. Holding his eyes tightly shut to avoid the blinding light, he tried to go back to sleep. The pain in his head was almost unbearable, and his mouth felt stale and fuzzy as if it was filled with ashes.

Finally, finding it impossible to go back to sleep, Rick pulled himself up. The all-too-familiar feelings of a severe hangover flooded over him. Sitting perfectly still, his head in his hands, the tired young man waited for the room to stop spinning.

In a few minutes he felt steady enough to make his way to the kitchen for some coffee. Nancy should be here to make me coffee, he thought to himself. Vague memories of calling her the previous night drifted through his thoughts as he drank the dark brew. Still feeling rocky, he opened the refrigerator and removed a beer. After finishing it in a few short gulps, Rick started to feel better.

With a second cup of coffee in his hand, he wandered into the living room to sit on the couch so that he could put his feet up.

Something about that call to Nancy bothered him but he couldn't remember what had been said.

As he sat trying to recall their conversation, he noticed his wallet sitting in the center of the coffee table with what seemed to be a note beneath it. Picking up the paper, he read the small feminine handwriting.

"Dear Bastard: I don't know how many women you've found who like the rough stuff, but I'm not one of them. You might at least ask first. Brutal creeps like you are sick and ought to have to pay for their fun. And you did. I have enough bruises and bite marks to file assault charges, so don't bother calling the police."

There was no signature. Snatching up his wallet and peering inside, Rick found it empty. Calculating what he had probably spent the previous night, there should have been more than a hundred dollars left. Angry, he sat for some time staring at the empty wallet.

"That little red-headed bitch," he muttered as he threw the wallet back onto the table.

Rage tilled him, but he knew that there was nothing he could do. The police weren't an option since he certainly couldn't afford the publicity. And there was no way of knowing what Nancy would do if she heard about it.

As he thought about his pretty wife, their conversation of the previous night returned to his memory. Despair overwhelmed him. He remembered his unreasonable anger, the terrible things he had said to her, and, worst of all, that he had hung up on her.

Getting up, he went to the phone to try to call her and apologize. When he called Cindy's number there was no answer. Thinking he had reached a wrong number, Rick hung, up and dialed the number several more times before he gave up.

His eyes were down back to the note on the table. If he really did the things that Liz had said about him in the note, then he had probably hurt Nancy, too, when he had been drunk. The thought of hurting the one person he had ever loved filled him with shame and disgust.

He continued to sit on the couch for a long time thinking back over the last few months. He had to admit that there were a number of nights that he was unable to recall with any certainty.

Vowing to seek help for his drinking, Rick returned to the phone and tried to call Nancy again.

Cindy answered on the second ring. "I'm sorry, Rick. She isn't here. Besides, she told me last night that she didn't want to talk to you if you called. She was pretty upset."

Stunned, Rick was silent for several minutes. Perhaps he had already lost her. His chest felt hollow, and his mouth was dry.

"Cindy, I was drunk last night, and I said some pretty awful things that I didn't mean. I realize now that I have been really rotten to Nancy these last few months, and I want to make it up to her. Please, Cindy, can't you at least get her to talk to me?"

"I'll give her the message, but don't expect too much. She's angry and upset and frankly doesn't have much faith in you anymore. Why don't you give her a day or two to cool off?"

Rick hung up the phone and slumped onto the couch. Disconsolate, the melancholy young man stared into space.

"I don't care what he said or how he sounded. His morning-after explanations and apologies always sound great until he turns around and does it again. I'm fed up with it!" Nancy snapped when Cindy told her about Rick's call. "Talk is cheap, and that's all I ever get from him – talk!"

Saying that, Nancy spun around and fled from the room. Safely in the bedroom, Nancy burst into tears. Everything was going wrong. Not only had her vacation in California not produced solutions, but it had also led to her being unfaithful to Rick.

Nancy continued to lie on the bed for a long time, too frustrated and angry to think. At first she did not hear the gentle taps on the door. When she did, she sat up and wiped her face with the palms of her hands.