Heather Brown - Wayward wife

"Can I help you?" she said. "I have all the Avon products I really need, and I've already tried Jehovah's Witness and didn't like it. I'm into transcendental meditation flow."

I knew I was embarrassing myself but I couldn't take my bulging eyes off the gorgeous sight of her bare snatch. It actually seemed to glisten, her shiny pussy lips drooping pinkly at the bottom of her pubic V.

When my eyes dropped to her heavenly thighs I knew the glistening wasn't just my imagination. Her thighs were glazed with wetness all the way to the front. I gulped as I realized her pussy was sopping wet and that I had interrupted her doing something very personal.

"Ron?" I involuntarily blurted, instantaneously blushing.

For the first time I looked at her face, silently begging her not to think me a fool. Her beautiful features were distorted by uncertainty, until that big smile I'd remembered suddenly appeared and she said, "Oh, you mean the guy that mows lawns. Is that why you're here? What about Ron?"

I was so flustered that I reverted to my mousy ways, trying to present myself as a respectable housewife. "Actually," I said, "I've been wondering if you think he's worth the money."

"I beg your pardon."

"See," I improvised, trying to save face, "I live across the street at 942 Fredericks. I've seen the young man a few times over at your place, and just assumed he does gardening for you, too. I thought we might compare notes to see if we're getting our money's worth."

"Well, my, my," she laughed gorgeously, her deep-red lips pulling over her spectacularly white teeth, "this is certainly a new kind of consumer survey: the neighborhood gangs up against a teen who's trying to save enough money to go to college."

"Is that what he told you?"

"Sure."

"He told me it was to buy a Honda."

"Well, nobody's denying that the guy is clever," she said. "I know you asked first, but tell me, do you think you're getting your money's worth, Mrs. Fredericks."

"Alice," I said. "Just call me Alice."

"How about it, Alice? Is Ron giving you your money's worth?" she said, and I couldn't help but look at her spectacular breasts and her sodden pussy.

"Yes… uh… yes, I guess so," I stammered.

"I thought so," she said brightly. "From the looks of your yard, he's doing as good a job over there as he is over here. Not to mention at Mrs. Tittleson's down the street."

"Is he here today?" I forced myself to ask, knowing that I was on the brink of revealing my secret life.

"No, as a matter of face, he's not," she answered calmly. "I think he's with that girlfriend of his. That cheerleader. Ginny something."

"Mmmm," I said.

"Oh," she squealed, "you know her too. Isn't she divine?"

Without thinking, I nodded my head.

Obviously there were no secrets between us any longer.

"To tell you the truth," she said, "earlier today I was looking over at your house and was wondering if Ron was over there. Then I called his house and his mother told me he was with Ginny."

"I was doing the same thing," I laughed with surprising ease, astonished at how my tenseness vanished with her admission.

"I see you didn't get quite as frustrated as I did," she said, spreading her hands out in front of her to emphasize her all-but-naked body.

"I didn't call his mom, if that's what you mean," I teased, looking squarely at her mouthwatering body.

"Come to think of it," she said, "there's no reason we have to let this throw us. Especially now that we know we both have the same gardener. Why don't you come on in and get comfortable?"

Once inside her expensively furnished living room we took seats across from one another, each of us eyeing the other. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, as she flung her long bare legs out on the coffee table, revealing a perfect chute to her glistening pussy. I couldn't take my eyes off her, and from the way she was looking at me, she had the same problem.

"It's hot today, isn't it?" she said.

"Yes," I agreed, practically panting my answer from the thrill of gazing at her throbbing breasts and open, trickling pussy.

"I can see the sweat on your forehead," she said sympathetically. "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable – that's why I invited you in."

"But… I… I…" I stuttered nervously, sweat creating dark circles under the arms of my thin blouse.

"Don't worry," she said soothingly. "Nobody's going to barge in on us."

"What about your husband?" I asked anxiously.

"The money machine?" she laughed derisively. "Forget about him. He's been in Japan for ten days trying to negotiate the terms for a shipment of dildoes. The Japanese make the best ones."

I was shocked. "I thought he was in the plastics business."

"He is," she said. "What do you think they make those things out of these days? Vinyl. It feels just like the real thing against your skin, believe me. Want to see one? We've always got tons of them around. Earl says he's paid for our house and furniture on the profits from importing those mothers just since we moved here three-and-a-half months ago."

I was astonished. And under my skirt, my cunt was absolutely foaming.

"Well," she said cheerfully, "are you game? Wanna see one? I've got one a foot long in the closet. It'll just take me a minute to get it."

I dumbly nodded my head, not knowing what else to do.

"Okay, I'll go get it. Just one condition, though," she said, as she got up, putting her long graceful legs under her and walking toward my chair. "I'm going to feel real bad if you don't accept my hospitality and make yourself real comfy while you're in my home. As comfy as I am. You'll hurt my feelings if you don't."

"I… I… I…" I hopelessly stammered.

"Don't be shy," she said. "I've already noticed that you don't have a stitch on under that short skirt, so it won't be a bit of trouble." Before I could react, she reached down, pulling my skirt over my lap and fully exposing my bubbling pussy.

I tried to close my thighs so she couldn't see the wet pinkness of my gaping aroused crack, but some inner force seemed to hold me back. My legs quivered, but they didn't move, my thighs implacably remaining six inches apart no matter how hard I concentrated.

"Look at that," she said, leaning down and peering into the sticky well of my thighs, "your pussy is staining my chair. You ought to be careful about whose house you go over to without wearing any panties with a juicy twat like you've got."

"I… I'm sorry," I blushed. "I didn't know… didn't realize."

"Don't give it a second thought," she said cheerfully. "The upholstery is Scotch-guarded, it'll wipe up in a second. Let me just stick my hand down here and…"

Her hand didn't even make a pretense of wiping the stain, busy fingers instantly encircling themselves in the tendrils of my pubic bush as she began nabbing my cunt. Automatically I writhed under her touch, my thrusting hips arching my soggy pussy into the air. Her fingers slid into me, filling my pussy in a pumping motion that drove me wild.

As her thumb pressed against my clit, Miranda leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "Now are you ready for the dildo… or do you want to lick my cunt first?"

Her boldness sent shivers down my spine, the rapid succession of events having reduced me to numbed pliancy. I was a prisoner to the feeling between my legs – a feeling which would only stop when another human being made me come.

As Miranda stroked my pussy, waiting for me to make up my mind between the dildo and her succulent cunt, it occurred to me that either a man or woman would do when I was this horny. In fact, I licked my lips thinking of the potential pleasure of making it with another woman, knowing that if we got it on she would experience the same sensations and emotions as I when we came together.