Ted Leonard - Humping pumping housewife

Desperation can make a girl do things she wouldn't normally do, like fucking strangers. Karen Smith was an expert on the subject. She knew what it was like to be so horny that she'd cheat on her husband.

It wasn't as if she really wanted to. She had to, or burst. A girl could go only so long without a stiff cock before the dam would break and she had to spread her legs for another man.

That's what happened to Karen the night her husband left her alone again. The minute she saw him heading for the door, her heart fell and tears came to her eyes.

"Tom," she sobbed. "Please don't go out again tonight."

But he just shrugged her off and told her to quit nagging him. Karen found herself staring at the door again.

She wasn't really a nag. She was just horny. Tom hadn't fucked her in over two weeks, and she was really suffering.

And it wasn't just that he was going out. It was also that he stayed out so late, and then came home drunk, too drunk to fuck once again.

And it wasn't as if Karen didn't try. God knows how hard she tried to please him, excite him, fuck him. But what could a girl do with a husband in a stupor and a wet, limp cock?

One night, in desperation, so very hungry for him, she tried sucking his cock while he was out like a light. His cock got big and stiff all right – in fact, she kind of enjoyed sucking it for so long – but when she tried to sit on it, it turned into a wet noodle.

Karen cried like a baby that night. Here she had his cock stiff and her pussy on fire and – nothing. She was so frustrated that she went out on the sofa and finger-fucked her pussy half the night.

She came okay, but it bothered her a lot. Why should she have to go back to pussy-playing when there was a perfectly good cock right in the next room? It was infuriating.

Worst of all, even when she sucked his cock, it wouldn't shoot. One night, she sucked and sucked, and got pretty horny because his cock stayed stiff as long as she sucked it, but she couldn't make him cum. What was the use of a girl sucking so long if she wasn't going to get rewarded for her effort? It was terrible.

So she cried when Tom left her alone again. She just sat on the sofa and wept her heart out. She knew she was feeling sorry for herself, but why shouldn't she? After just a year of marriage to the guy who broke her cherry and used to fuck pretty good, she was alone with nothing but her fingers to console her. She didn't even own a vibrator.

She refused to be tempted by bananas and cucumbers or her hairbrush handle. She didn't get married just to go on doing the same things she did as a virgin. She needed cock!

She came out of her funk and dried her eyes. She went into her bedroom and stood in front of her long mirror and looked at herself.

Because she had been crying, her blue eyes were all sparkly, and her proud young tits quivered a little in the V of her robe. She gazed at them for a moment, then parted her robe and bared them.

She brought her hands up to them and slowly caressed them. Her fingertips toyed with her pink nipples and they spiked for her, just like she knew they would. She loved her tits.

She always had, ever since they started growing out when she was a little girl. They had given her a lot of pleasure as she grew up, not only because they were fun to play with, but because they attracted boys like twin magnets. And they'd attracted Tom, who was a prize catch at the time. She sniffled, remembering.

Her fingers fell to the cloth belt of her robe, and she untied it. Her robe fell wide open, and her eyes moved down to her furry blonde pussy. She shrugged the robe completely off and set her feet farther apart so she could really see her pussy.

Her fingers moved down to it and her lips parted for air as she gently stroked it. It was very sensitive to her touch, easily aroused, very responsive. It loved to cum.

That was her major heartache. Here she was, just twenty, with an adorable pussy that simply loved to cream, and a fool for a husband who'd rather drink than fuck. It was enough to drive her crazy.

With her fingers attached to her pussy, she stepped back to her bed and sat on the edge of it. Panting softly, she opened her thighs wide and watched in the mirror as she worked a long, slender finger in and out of her pussy.

She couldn't take too much of that and sit up too, so she lay back across her bed and cloud her eyes and moaned as she finger-fucks her hot pussy.

Just moment a later, she made a funny sound in her throat and slipped two fingers in and out of her pussy. Then, gasping a little, she used the fingers of her other hand on her stiff little clit. It got all quivery right away.

"Oh, oh, oh!" she panted, and started a slow humping of her ass that made her pussy move nicely on her slip-sliding fingers. And when the tendon built way up and her pussy creamed, she gasped. Her fingers drilled fast in and out of her screwing pussy, and she came so wildly that she fell off the bed onto the floor, where she spread her legs wide and fucked her pussy fast and hard on her exciting fingers.

It was a nice cum that left her writhing and moaning, but it just wasn't enough. Not any more. She was a growing girl with growing needs, and her rowing pussy needed a growing cock.

"Ohhh, Tom!" she sobbed, moving her wet pussy on her soaked fingers. "Please come home! Please! Come home and fuck me!"

As she petted her purring pussy, she began to hope that he really would come home early to kiss her and lick her and suck her and fuck her, like he used to do when he said she was a raving beauty.

Her head rolled to one side and she saw herself in the mirror. She was still a raving beauty. It was Tom who had changed. Not her. She still had lovely eyes and pouty lips and firm, hard tits, and a slim waist, and a cute ass, and long, lanky legs, and a luscious pussy.

Even better, she had the new desires and passions of a young woman, instead of the crazy feelings of a scared little virgin. But what good were they? She couldn't use them.

"Tom, Tom!" she murmured, watching herself rub her tits and pussy. She found herself hoping he wouldn't come home too drunk.

But her hopes were dashed to pieces. He not only came home drunk, he came home blind drunk. When she put on her robe to answer the doorbell, Tom was being held up on his feet by a guy she didn't even know.

"Oh, God!" she groaned, and her heart fell down to her feet.

"Are you Karen?" the man asked.

"Yes," she said, and added under her breath, "but sometimes I wish I weren't."

"My name's Bob," he said. "I think your hubbie's had a little too much. He passed out in the car. I got his address out of his wallet."

Karen helped him get Tom into the bedroom and onto the bed, where he flopped like a sack of potatoes. Karen looked at him sadly and had all she could do to keep from crying.

She knelt down and untied Tom's shoes and pulled them off his feet.

"What a mess," she muttered, more to herself than to Bob.

Tom smelled like a stale brewery. Oddly enough, the man standing over her smelled like cologne.

When she got to her feet, she found Bob's eyes on her half-naked tits. Instinct wanted her to throw her robe off right then and there. But habit made her close the V of her robe.

"Thank you for bringing him home. That was awfully nice of you."

"No problem," he said, following her out of the bedroom. "I'm sure he'd do the same for me."

"I doubt it," she said under her breath.

To her surprise, he went to the door, and when she saw his hand on the knob, a strange panicky feeling grabbed her by the pussy.

"Oh, wait," she said. "I mean… would you like a cup of coffee or something?"