Curt Aldrich - Hot widow, no panties

He'd really worked her over – right there on the bathroom floor. They'd been like a pair of animals, as shameless and wild as the two dogs that had fucked out in front of the house. It was too bad she couldn't have gotten a picture of the scene. There was something so filthy and perverse about fucking on the bathroom floor that Jennifer's excitement remained at a fever pitch.

I'm free, she realized. Free to fuck whomever she wanted to. Free to do anything she wanted to. She had money. She no longer had to worry about being faithful to a husband, or about doing what he said. George was gone, after all. There was nothing she could do to bring him back. Was she supposed to spend the rest of her life in mourning, a widow in a black veil, her pussy drying up between her legs?

She stood in front of the bathroom mirror, her bare toes rubbing in the fuck juices on the floor. Her tits looked good enough to eat. George had always gone crazy over her tits, and now she could see why. When they got fat and tight with lust, they looked sexier than the tits of the women in George's girlie magazines.

Jennifer went to the bedroom, to George's closet, and she pulled out the cardboard boxes he'd kept his girlie magazines in. His closet was just as he'd left it. Until now, Jennifer hadn't touched it. Until now, Jennifer hadn't accepted the idea that George was never coming back.

It's time I faced up to things, she thought, time I put things in order and went back to living.

Until this moment, she'd never looked that closely at George's magazines, had never seen the more shameless poses the women in them took, the more shameless ways the magazine models displayed their nude female bodies. For a few moments, Jennifer gaped in disgust, but as she continued to turn the pages, her face took on a horny smile.

These women were having fun. These women were hot. They loved showing themselves off and enticing the men who would look at their pictures. They showed the camera the insides of their pussies, showed off their assholes and nipples and toes.

Jennifer sat on the carpet, George's girlie magazines spread put all around her, the middle finger of her right hand up her pussy as she rapidly paged through one magazine after another. These women were so hot they were actually turning her on. She couldn't believe she was getting turned on by the sight of other naked women, but she couldn't deny that she was. She came upon two naked women making it with each other, their tits pressed together, their tongues in each other's mouth, their fingers up each other's pussy.

"Look at that!" Jennifer muttered, her eyes bugging out. She pumped her finger in and out of her pussy, not caring that Gary's cum was leaking out of her and soiling the carpet between her legs. "Lesbo bitches! Look at 'em!"

She kept turning pages. The women displaying their tits and asses weren't any sexier than she was. She could be a model too, if she wanted to. She wondered how many of these women had ever fucked their paperboy. Not many, probably. Probably none of them. She was just as hot as they were, and she'd done things they hadn't.

She found a magazine that actually showed men and women fucking. Pictures showed cocks actually inside cunts. She found women sucking on men's cocks, and she salivated, remembered the taste of George's cock.

So that's where George got the idea, she thought. The first time he'd asked her to suck his cock, she'd thought he must be sick or crazy. How had he come up with such an idea? Now, as she studied pictures of women's lips wrapped around cocks, of cum leaking from women's mouths, of cocks shooting off on women's faces, she realized that her sucking George's cock hadn't been that far out after all.

Her finger slipped in and out of her pussy, making squishing noises as the paperboy's sticky jizz frothed out around it. The alkaline scent of the boy's cum got her a little dizzy. She lifted her jizz-dripping finger to her mouth and sucked it clean. The taste of cum got her drunk. She dipped her finger back in her cunt, then shoved it in her mouth and sucked it clean again. She did this several times, until she burped up the taste of pussy juice and cum.

What would Gary say if she offered to suck his cock? she wondered. What did his cock taste like? Like sweat, she was sure. She tried to imagine his cock quivering and bucking in her mouth as it spurted jizz fresh from his balls against her tonsils. She stuck her finger back in her cunt, jerking herself off as she imagined her lips smacking around the paperboy's big horny prick and his hot jizz sliding down her throat.

"Oh Gary, I want you!" she moaned. "I wanna suck you! I wanna fuck you again!"

She dumped out one of the cardboard boxes in front of her, searching for hotter and more lurid pictures to turn her on as she masturbated. What had been buried at the bottom of the box and now fell out with the remaining magazines made Jennifer look twice to make sure she wasn't imagining things.

There was a huge, flesh-colored cock of solid rubber, with veins and even pisshole slit. When Jennifer lifted it, inspected it closely, she found that it smelled like cunt. Like whose cunt? It had never been up her own cunt!

She dropped the rubber cock and inspected a solid-rubber cunt. It looked just like a woman's crotch, with black pussyhairs and inner and outer cuntlips. A long rubber tube formed the cuntal canal and could accommodate a man's cock. The contraption had straps for fastening it between a woman's legs – as if a women needed a second cunt! Jennifer discovered grease inside the rubber cunt, Vaseline or something.

What was this? What had George been doing behind her back? Hadn't her own cunt been enough for him? Apparently not.

In addition to the imitation male and female sex organs, Jennifer found a box of condoms – George had never fucked her while wearing a condom – and three pairs of smelly, cunt-soiled women's panties. They weren't Jennifer's panties.

That man! Jennifer thought. What had he been doing behind her back all these years? She'd never dreamed he'd been unfaithful to her, or that he'd done anything sexual with anybody but her in the sanctity of their marriage bed.

Jennifer lay back, rolling on the pile of spread-out, spread-open magazines, her legs wide-apart, her finger pumping fiercely in and out of her pussy. Her blood was boiling. If George hadn't been dead already, she would have killed him now for deceiving her, for making her think she was his one and only.

If George could fuck God-knows-who, then I can fuck the paperboy, she thought. Whatever sense of guilt had been nagging at the back of her mind, her boiling blood now destroyed, now burned up and vaporized. If George could do it, she could do it, too. And who was going to stop her? Not George. George was gone.

It was fun while it lasted, George, she thought. But now it's over. You're dead, and my life is my own again.

She shoved the cunt-flavored dildo in her mouth, sucking on it as if it were a real cock. As her finger plunged in her pussy, as it rubbed her squirming clit, her nipples swelled even more and her toes curled sensuously. The rubber cock was bigger than George's cock, and was probably as big as the paperboy's cock. As she sucked the rubber cock, she imagined it to be Gary's cock, and she sucked it as if she expected jism to spurt out of it at any moment.

Her finger twisted in her pussy. Her lips smacked around the rubber cock. She rocked her loins, undulated her body, thrust her tits high. As she sucked, she groaned. The fuck sensation streamed through her body, getting her turgid and hot. She had masturbated several times since George's death, but this was the first time she'd had any fun doing it, the first time the pleasure had been worth the effort. She was hot now, as hot as if she were with a man.