Rod Strong - Dealing in adultery

I grabbed both ass cheeks with my hands, squeezing and kneading them, as I held the tender clitoris tightly between my front teeth and lightly bit on it. With my tongue I lashed the clit again and again, forcing it to extend itself farther and farther away from her sweating body. The odor of her flashing muff filled my nostrils as I avidly sucked and bit the bit of extended flesh. She was bucking too strongly, and I couldn't apply the pressure I wanted to against her man in the boat.

"Hold still," I mumbled, releasing my oral grip on her box. "Just let me do the work."

Raquel stopped her thrusting movements, stiffening and keeping her body taut and ready as I returned to snapping at her clitoris with my teeth and lips, using my tongue to wash the lubricious drippings from her center. It was a hard thing for her to do, and I could feel her tremble with the desire to ram her cunt against my tongue again.

Her nails tore at the already raw flesh of my shoulders as she quivered expectantly again and again. Every now and again she shook with muscle spasms.

And then, she suddenly realized she no longer had to remain unmoving. It seemed all right for her to move against me as her creaming cunt began vibrating by itself.

I pride myself on being an expert pussy gobbler. And I was proving it to Raquel Roberts, plunging my knowing tongue again and again into the warm, flooding pussy gash. Her clitoris was vibrating all by itself, sending all kinds of messages through her nervous system. Her tight split seemed to widen as her pussylips parted, and then a flood of onrushing vaginal fluids poured out, almost drowning me. Her fuckhole screamed with fulfillment, overflowing with her passion juices.

This time it was a short come, but oh how she loved it. Her clit was glued to my mouth the whole time, and then, when it was over, she fell to the floor, rolling around and around, her hands pressed against her sopping slot.

"You're great," she finally whispered, hoarsely. "I've never had a man as good as you. Hell, I feel like going to sleep."

"If you do, you'll never see the proof we talked about."

"Oh, you mean about Kal? All right, I'm willing to go. But not until I've made that horn of yours shrink again."

Pulling over a footstool, she sat on it, in front of the chair where I was sitting. She smiled, fingering my cock, as if wanting to get the fucking started all over again. But there was no way she was going to do anything seated where she was, because my feet blocked her. So I stood, pointing my prong straight at her face, curious if she was as good a cocksucker as she was a fornicator. I aimed it at the open hole of her mouth, wanting her to suck the whole thing in so I could line the walls of her throat with my softening white cream.

It went right in, and she closed her lips over it, swallowing the full length of my pole, right to the hairy root. Her tongue massaged the bottom of the cock as it moved back and forth without wandering about. I was damn close to the brink of another climax after the way I'd sucked on her pussy.

My hips rammed themselves uncontrollably into her face, jamming my cock deep into her throat, and she took it all. Once, she almost gagged, but kept on sucking avidly, letting her tongue press my prick until the creamy liquid once again spewed forth from my pecker into the hollow of her cocksucking mouth. This time I could feel jaws pulling at my peter, draining it of all the liquid within as her greedy, slurping lips pulled it all out of me.

Dressed in a mini-shift, Raquel Roberts now sat beside me in my car. It was past three o'clock in the morning. We had fucked and sucked so much, it was possible Kalman Albert had already brought Moira Evergrad home, reacted to the aphrodisiac, and finished her off before Raquel and I could ever get there.

I parked a block from the Evergrad estate and we walked to the fault in the hedge I'd found earlier. I saw a car parked directly in front of the long, circular driveway, and the Evergrad garage was closed, which meant Mitch Evergrad had returned, as well.

We could hear shouting voices coming from the house. We hurried to the family room window and peered in. On the bar was an open bottle of scotch and two empty glasses.

Sitting on the sofa at the far end of the room, totally naked, sobbing, and frightened, was Moira Evergrad, clutching her blouse to her large, firm tits. Halfway across the room, Kalman Albert, his face all puffed up from the beating Mitch Evergrad had given him, was sagging against the wall. His glasses were broken, as was his extra-large nose, and blood was seeping into his roachlike mustache. His scraggly beard was sticking out all over.

Mitch Evergrad was at the bar, getting a clean glass and pouring himself a shot of the scotch, saying, "I don't know what the hell came over you, Kal. It's a goddamn good thing you're gonna eventually marry Moira, or you'd be dead now. You're paying too fucking much attention to my sister. From now on you get your rocks off on Raquel Roberts. Give her a good time for the short time she's gonna remain alive. Once Cy Roberts inherits that loot and his heart gives out from fucking Joan Randall, all that money'll go to Raquel. But we have to wait until we knock off Judy first, and then Cy has to have his heart attack. It might take a little while, so you go fuck Raquel and keep her happy."

Raquel Roberts grabbed me by the arm and pulled me away from the house.

"What's this all about?" she wanted to know.

I explained, "All you have to know is, they plan to kill two people and make you rich. Then Kal is supposed to marry you, and then you get killed."

"What can I do?" she whispered frantically as we headed back to my car.

"If I give advice will you take it?" I asked.

"Anything. I don't want anyone's money if it means I have to be killed."

"So be smart. Write a letter to Kalman Albert telling him you don't want to marry him. Mail it, then pack up and leave town for a short while. When you get back I don't think you'll have to worry about Albert."

"But what about Cy? They want to kill him too."

"So what?"

"But it isn't right. Besides," she continued as we got into the car, "my alimony checks'll stop coming."

"Yeah, but think of that insurance policy that'll give you two hundred and fifty grand."

"How did you learn about that?" she asked.

"Simple," I said, starting the car. "I'm a private eye. I have eyes and ears everywhere. Cy is going to kill himself. But if you refuse to marry Albert, there'll be no reason for anyone to want to kill you."

I dropped Raquel Roberts off at her home, where she swore she'd pack and be gone the next morning. Then I returned to the Evergrad home. I saw Albert's shit-colored Mustang II was gone, but the lights were still on in the family room. This time I didn't bother going through the hedge fault. I walked in along the driveway and went straight up to the house, crossing the lawn to get to the family room window. I peered in, and there was Moira Evergrad, the prude, still naked, rubbing her leaking bush with her thighs wide apart. There was a look of indecision in her eyes as if she wanted nothing to happen, but couldn't help herself. She had obviously had some of the aphrodisiac in the whiskey, and was no longer in control of her emotions.

Across the room, also stark naked, and now affected by the liquor with the love potion, was Mitch Evergrad. His face and body were bright red.

"I don't know why," he was muttering just loud enough for me to hear. "But Moira, I'm gonna fuck the ass offa you myself."

"No," she whimpered, still rubbing her leaking split. "No, Mitch. It isn't right."

"The hell it isn't. You were gonna fuck for Kalman."

"But I didn't, Mitch. You stopped us just in time."