Mark Carver - Ravaged music teacher

Velma gulped her drink down, trying to decide. If she hadn't been so paranoid and feverishly cautious from living with Buzz for so many years, she would have shot out the door the minute she got the phone call.

But what did she have to lose by checking it out?

"Nothing," Velma said aloud. And if it were true, oh wowwwwww! She would, after all these frustrating, madly exasperating long years with the raging pervert-smasher, have him by his big, hairy balls.

He would have to share Sylvia with her. And, to cap it off, Velma could continue her hot action on the side with her horny boyfriend and his daughter.

What was she waiting for?

The address! Was it 123 Sutton Drive, Apartment 1? Or 121 Sutton Drive, Apartment 3? She should have written it down!

After living with a man who made all her decisions for her for so many years, including when to wash her pussy and wag her overripe ass, Velma was not big on efficiency.

But when she finally moved, it was with grim-jawed purpose. She'd check both addresses out!

First, Velma had to stop at a gas station and get directions to Sutton Drive. She carefully wrote them down. Then she drove to 123, which had to be it, because his car was parked at the curb.

Velma strode up the stairs, wishing she'd had one more stiff drink before she'd left. But she'd face him on his own raw terms this time, if it wasn't a trap.

She pressed her ear to the door of Apartment 3. She heard low screams and a growl she definitely recognized. Softly, Velma opened the door. She slipped inside the apartment. She headed toward the obscene sounds – the bedroom. The door was open.

She stepped in the doorway, focusing her eyes.

What Velma saw made her lusty breasts heave and her sultry mouth open wide. It was Buzz, all right, and he was screwing Sylvia. In the ass! Tied down on the bed was a beautiful, long-legged brunette. And Sylvia was eating her pussy!

Velma could only stand and gape in shock. After all the years of listening to her husband rant and rave about pussy-eating perverts, after being savagely back-handed by the gorilla for hinting that he might go down on her pussy, it was the most beautiful sight Velma had ever seen.

She did not know what the term poetic justice meant, but it was what she witnessed. She took a deep breath. "Buzz Watkins!" she roared, coming up to the bed. "Buzz Watkins, you are a pervert!"

Buzz's jaw dropped open and he jerked his head, astonished. He stopped in mid-stroke in Sylvia's hotly wriggling ass. His lips worked without sound. His ordinarily red face turned ghostly white.

"It's Velma," he finally whispered. "Holy shit in a puddle – it's Velma!"

Sylvia raised her face from Julie's madly sucking cunt. Her eyes widened in shock, too. "Oh Christ, it's Mommy," she gasped. "Yes, it's Mommy," Velma said quickly, pushing her husband back roughly. His prick had gone completely limp at the first shock of his wife's voice and it now slipped easily out of Sylvia's churning asshole.

In sixteen years, Velma had never even thought of striking her husband, not if she valued her life. But when she'd shoved him away from Sylvia, he winced and drew back without a word.

"Poor girl," crooned Velma, hugging Sylvia's naked curves tightly to her body. Velma's sharp eyes, however, were on the brunette's pink, dripping pussy. God, she'd love a whiff of that! A few hundred laps would be fine, too.

"How did you find out we were here?" Buzz asked timidly.

"I passed your car outside," Velma lied. Whoever the stacked brunette was, Velma didn't want her blamed. Not if there was a chance the lust-inspired blonde could get a piece of that later on. Lucky little Sylvia!

"How do you explain this?" Velma demanded, glaring at her naked husband. It was the first time she'd ever seen him at a complete loss for words.

On the bed, Julie heaved a deep, trembling sigh of relief. All she had to do now was get the whole wacky crew out of here so she could pack her stuff and leave town. There was no possible way she was going to live in the same town as Buzz Watkins, not even for his sexy daughter's sake.

"Well," Buzz stammered, thinking desperately. His brain lumbered fiercely, finding nothing.

"Well, Velma," he whispered, "it ain't easy."

"I would deeply appreciate it," Julie said from the bed, "if someone would untie me. And if you would all leave my apartment, before I call the police."

Buzz was about to roar that he was the police, but he felt ridiculous. How in hell was he going to explain it all to Velma? He got it then, and his face brightened. Christ knew he'd heard the expression often enough around the police station.

"Temporary insanity!" he said. "Yeah, that's what I've got, Velma – temporary insanity!"

His wife curled her lip with scorn as Sylvia freed herself from her suffocating grasp and untied Julie.

"Temporary bullshit," snapped Velma. "Let's get out of here and go home and talk. Well, dress!" she ordered Buzz.

His brain churning in deep thought, Buzz wasn't even aware that she was ordering him around. He dressed with mechanical fingers, still frantically searching for something that sounded halfway reasonable. Should he tell her about Julie and Sylvia? And Sylvia and Cindy? But how in hell would that explain what he was doing screwing Sylvia in the ass, while their daughter was sucking off the brunette, who was tied down?

When Buzz and Sylvia were dressed, Velma herded them toward the door. She had the upper hand now, and she seethed with victory. It might not last, but it felt glorious while she had it.

"Wait," cried Sylvia. She ran back to Julie and kissed her passionately on the lips. "Please write me!" she begged. "I want to see you again."

"I will," Julie promised.

While this happened, Velma sidled over to the bedside table. While Julie was hugging Sylvia, she quickly snatched the giant custom-tailored vibrator Julie had such high hopes for, and stuffed it down in her large purse. Her boyfriend had a few of those in stock, but she intended to use this one tonight.

On Sylvia.

Buzz didn't see this. He was absorbed in deep, tormented thought. How do you explain something like this? he wondered furiously. Of all the chickenshit coincidences, having his wife spot his cop car outside the apartment!

They all left Julie's apartment in grim silence. Velma hugged Sylvia's shoulder to her. "You'll sleep with me tonight, darling. For your own protection."

Buzz's face turned beet-red. His bleak mind searched for one bright spot in all this, and he finally found it.

At least he wasn't caught eating pussy!

He was about to tell Velma this, when he decided that sounded pretty dumb, too. After all, She'd caught him, screwing Sylvia in her luscious ass.

As Buzz drove home, Sylvia realized her mother was gently caressing her thigh – not really sexually yet, but working up to it.

Sylvia sighed and looked out the car window. Oh well, she wasn't really surprised. Her mother was actually pretty sexy, in an overblown way. She wondered if Julie would write her. She'd miss the striking brunette.

But she had sweet Cindy to console her. "I'm sleeping by myself tonight," Sylvia announced suddenly. "By myself! I need a rest, dammit. Everybody wants my ass." There was a stunned silence in the cop car. Buzz coughed and spoke up. "Well, you gotta admit, Sylvia, it's a pretty cute ass." For a smoking, virgin-fucking little girl, thought Sylvia dryly.

In her apartment, Julie packed calmly. Damned if she would spend another night in this town, not with that crew cut maniac, his leather belt and enormous prick! Julie realized how ironic it was that she'd come to a small, peaceful town to straighten her lusty act out, and the whole thing came crashing down in one wild day.

She decided, as she packed, that she would head for a city this – time San Francisco. No more small towns for Julie, no more sweet country pussy and crazy cops for her. There were sexy girls and strapping boys in big cities, too.