• Пожаловаться

Ron Taylor: Teacher_s naughty wife

Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «Ron Taylor: Teacher_s naughty wife» весь текст электронной книги совершенно бесплатно (целиком полную версию). В некоторых случаях присутствует краткое содержание. категория: Эротика, Секс / на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале. Библиотека «Либ Кат» — LibCat.ru создана для любителей полистать хорошую книжку и предлагает широкий выбор жанров:

любовные романы фантастика и фэнтези приключения детективы и триллеры эротика документальные научные юмористические анекдоты о бизнесе проза детские сказки о религиии новинки православные старинные про компьютеры программирование на английском домоводство поэзия

Выбрав категорию по душе Вы сможете найти действительно стоящие книги и насладиться погружением в мир воображения, прочувствовать переживания героев или узнать для себя что-то новое, совершить внутреннее открытие. Подробная информация для ознакомления по текущему запросу представлена ниже:

Ron Taylor Teacher_s naughty wife

Teacher_s naughty wife: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

Предлагаем к чтению аннотацию, описание, краткое содержание или предисловие (зависит от того, что написал сам автор книги «Teacher_s naughty wife»). Если вы не нашли необходимую информацию о книге — напишите в комментариях, мы постараемся отыскать её.

Ron Taylor: другие книги автора


Кто написал Teacher_s naughty wife? Узнайте фамилию, как зовут автора книги и список всех его произведений по сериям.

Teacher_s naughty wife — читать онлайн бесплатно полную книгу (весь текст) целиком

Ниже представлен текст книги, разбитый по страницам. Система сохранения места последней прочитанной страницы, позволяет с удобством читать онлайн бесплатно книгу «Teacher_s naughty wife», без необходимости каждый раз заново искать на чём Вы остановились. Поставьте закладку, и сможете в любой момент перейти на страницу, на которой закончили чтение.

Шрифт:

Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

"It can't be me," she said, as she said to herself almost every day. She was cupping one of her tits, squeezing it hard, squeezing it till her lips puckered and she made a whistling sound through them. Her other hand continued to rub insistently up and down the crack of her pussy, her finger slipping inside now and then, making little passes over the erected tip of her hungry clitoris. She let her finger drop down, working it quickly in and out the mouth of her cunt, and she could feel the sticky wetness – not the plain wetness of the water that bathed her body, but the juicy, hot secretions from deep inside. "Mmm, God, yes, yes!" she purred, stiffening her finger. Joanne held her breath for a second, stabbing her finger wickedly, sinfully, into her snatch, and she lifted up, standing on her tiptoes a long time as she penetrated her twat.

"Ooohhhh!" she hummed, settling down onto her soles again, her finger still wedged in her box. She wiggled from side to side, shifting her weight back and forth, so that her pussy did a kind of tango around her embedded finger. She felt the smooth texture of her cuntal walls, the continual flow of sticky juice bathing her finger, dripping into the hollow of her hand as it tensed against the sweet hairy puff of her pussy. Her hand tightened on her tit and pinched off the stiff brown bud of a nipple. A needle of pain shot through the end of her tit, but it was a delicious kind of pain and she dug it. Really dug it. She leaned forward, pushing her titty upward, and her tongue wiggled in the air, stretching but not quite reaching the erect brown teat that crowned her boob. She could lick the curve of her tit, and she was happy to do that, tasting soap and arousal on her flesh.

She put her arm under both tits, scooping the small round mounds upward, and she licked the upper edges of both breasts, her finger still buried in her slick wet pussy. If only, she thought, if only I could suck myself, I might not feel so bad about my husband's losing his cock.

But he hadn't lost it. His cock was still there, a sweet fat hunk of meat between his legs. She'd seen it not twenty minutes ago, seen the mouth watering bulge in his snug-fitting shorts. Last night she'd tasted him, too, gone down or her husband as they lay in bed and he pretended to be asleep. She'd taken his pecker in her hands, stroked it and caressed it with her fingers and her lips and her tongue, and then sucked him for a long time in her mouth, sucked him in that special, tender way site had of eating his cock, using every trick she knew to remind him who she was, what she meant to him and what he meant to her.

It hadn't worked. His cock had stayed soft despite Joanne's feverish effort. She sucked until her throat was full of drool and spit and his prick was frothy with the stuff, but when she took her lips away, Tom's dick was as limp as it had been when she started and he was snoring softly, asleep for real this time, leaving her alone, more alone than she had ever been in her life. He hadn't lost his cock. He'd only taken it away from his wife.

"He may as well have lost it," she mumbled, leaning forward in the shower stall. Water poured over the back of her head, but her eyes were closed and she was breathing in husky gulps. Her lips continued to nuzzle the area of tit she could reach, and her finger had started working in her cunt again. Joanne's hips and belly jerked each time she plunged home, and she plunged home repeatedly, stabbing the finger up into the musky depths of her snatch. She could smell the heated arousal of her body, and she felt stinging bitter tears forming behind her tightly-shut eyelids, tears of shame that she had to be doing this for herself, that she'd been finding her own consolation this way for so long, so many weeks. Her finger in her pie, her fingers on her nips, squeezing, tweaking, she brought her body to the satisfaction her husband was no longer interested in giving her.

Masturbation. It was lovely when you were young and inexperienced, preparing yourself for the day when you would take your place in society's sexual framework as an essential member. But it was ugly, so Goddamned ugly, when you were a married woman of thirty-one and masturbating fingers were the only lovers you had to your name!

"Love me," she moaned, and some of the warm water dribbled into her mouth. She blew bubbles on her lips and she kept on diddling herself, rocking about, twisting this way and that as it got better and better. Joanne sank to her knees, legs parted, her hand still ramming its way up and into her snatch, through the sucking network of pussy muscles and mucous-coated tissue. She reached up to shut off the water – here, on her knees, there was too much of it, she'd drown in her ecstasy – the water stopped and she leaned her fingers against the shower wall for a moment, bracing herself as she kept on plunging fingers up her hot aching twat.

The wall was wet, though, and her hand slipped and slid, and she felt her fingers brush something long and slender and plastic. The handle of the bath brush. Something she never used, though Tom occasionally did. Once upon a time he hadn't needed a bath brush. They saved water, showered together, two hot naked bodies jammed into a narrow stall, and she washed his back and all his other hard-to-reach places, and he did the same for Joanne, and sometimes they even waited until they dried off before he threw her onto the floor and gave her a bathroom quickie. Not any more.

Joanne's fingers closed on the bath brush handle, and she clenched them tighter, moaning between clenched teeth. It felt so phallic, that object! Like a young slender cock, strong and hard and long. She raised her head, opened her eyes, stared at the white plastic object where it hung from a little clamp fixed to the wall. Her eyes misted over and then they sparkled knowingly and she wiggled the brush free, brought it to her face.

She stroked herself with the bristles, which were soft and not at all bristly. Like the beard Tom had sported during his second year of grad school. She'd loved his beard, loved to feel it with her hands and her body, but it caused a rash on her upper thighs and he'd finally shaved it off. Bristled bath brushes didn't give you a rash, though, did they? She thought not. Stroking her face and tits with the brush, especially stroking her stiff, aching nipples. "Do it, baby," she giggled, giggled as she hadn't since passing the upper limits of puberty. She worked her finger out of her pussy, used it to cup her tits while she stroked them with the brush, stroked them till her tits burned and yearned.

She turned the bath brush around in her hand, and she pressed the long, tapering handle against her lips. It had a cold, plastic taste, but it was stiff and phallic and she could pretend, couldn't she? What else did she have? And it was Tom's. Maybe she could taste the imprint of his hands on the plastic? She licked friskily at the handle, tasting nothing but plastic. It was the first hard thing she'd been able to lick in a couple of weeks, though, and could she fault it so awfully much for being plastic?

No. "Come to mama," Joanne simpered, opening her mouth. The slightly pointed tip of the brush eased between her lips, onto the end of her wet red tongue. She closed her lips, and began to suck with loud, slurping noises, the kind of noises she had made as a teenager sucking cock for the first time. High school boys had enjoyed hearing her sounds of passion, mistaking the smacks and slobbers for skill. She'd learned better, but the man who had helped her learn didn't seem to be interested anymore, and he wasn't here to bitch about the quality of the head she gave his bath brush. She kept on sucking, until her mouth was overflowing with drool and she had to clear her throat and swallow hard.

Читать дальше

Шрифт:

Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

Похожие книги на «Teacher_s naughty wife»

Представляем Вашему вниманию похожие книги на «Teacher_s naughty wife» списком для выбора. Мы отобрали схожую по названию и смыслу литературу в надежде предоставить читателям больше вариантов отыскать новые, интересные, ещё не прочитанные произведения.


Отзывы о книге «Teacher_s naughty wife»

Обсуждение, отзывы о книге «Teacher_s naughty wife» и просто собственные мнения читателей. Оставьте ваши комментарии, напишите, что Вы думаете о произведении, его смысле или главных героях. Укажите что конкретно понравилось, а что нет, и почему Вы так считаете.