Rod Strong - Dealing in adultery

Then she pulled her head slowly back, her pliable lips gripping while her tongue busily licked around the entire solid pole. Then, holding only the sensitive glans in her mouth, she wobbled her head slowly from one side to the other, letting those kissable lips tease the highly sensitive corona.

Abruptly, she thrust her head forward once again, filling her mouth and throat to overflowing with my cock. At the same time she let her gentle hands run over my balls again and again. With the tender insides of her lips rubbing against my burning dong, she speedily moved her face up and down, driving me into a wild frenzy.

When I rolled onto my side, Judy came on the couch and curled against me. I proceeded to thrust my hips in time with the motion of her curly head, plunging forward each time her face came rushing toward me, pulling my hips slowly away each time she retreated.

She stopped for an instant, opening her mouth wide so that her lips barely touched my throbbing peter. I grabbed my aching cock in one hand and rubbed the glans from side to side against her warm, nestling tongue. Then she removed my hand from the fleshy pike and grabbed it herself, pressing it to the inside of both cheeks.

I had hoped to fuck Judy again, wishing to jam my prick into her sopping love hole. But she, who had never sucked a cock before, was suddenly addicted to it and wouldn't release my palpitating pudendum from her mouth. She wanted to suck until I blew my load in her mouth.

So I began to fuck vigorously, using her mouth as I would have her lovely cunt. I fucked into it strongly, bucking back and forth, feeling the way her lips played on my skinflute.

Feeling the final, thrilling moment approach, I took Judy's face between my hands and turned it up slightly so I could watch her. She stared back at me unselfconsciously, still sucking with all her might and main, stuffing prick all the way into the back of her throat.

My semen welled up into my throbbing cock, and Judy, feeling the pulsations, sucked all the more strongly. She stared right into my eyes, looking for approval of the way she was sucking, and I gave her my full approval the only way I could, unleashing a heavy flood of jism. She gagged for an instant, and then proceeded to swallow gush after gush. Her hands gripped the backs of my thighs as she pulled her face down, jamming as much cock into her lovely mouth as it could hold, gobbling the spurting sperm as it was ejaculated into her throat. She bit and chewed, attacking my flesh and urging more and more liquid to flood her mouth.

Little by little, the spurts slowed, and Judy had less and less to swallow. Slowly but surely she let my cock start slipping from her mouth until all she held between her adorable lips was the glans, whose little hole was still seeping bits of come. She sucked each drop in hungrily, then simply sat there, her head buried in my crotch, waiting for the next drop. Ultimately, when she was convinced there was nothing left, she released the wilted prong.

"I never dreamed it could be so complete an experience," she said as we dressed. "I really believed I would feel cheap for having given myself to you, and yet I feel better for it, not worse."

"That's because your husband has been neglecting you," I pointed out.

"Perhaps it's because I refused to indulge in fellatio that he abandoned me and started going out with other girls."

"Girls? I thought there was only one other girl."

"I just figured if I'd seen him with one, he may very well be fooling around with more than one."

"Do you still want to go through with this?"

"You'd better believe it. I didn't let you take me… now that it was over she couldn't bring herself to use the word "fuck" anymore… "just so you could let me see how good it all was, and then forget him. Hell, I think I was pretty good, wasn't I?"

"You. were great," I acknowledged.

"Then why the heck is he running to all these other women? I mean, with a little patience I'd have learned to fellate him as well. I want to be rid of him, and I want to be rid of him without having to pay for it."

"Pay for it?" I asked.

"As you guessed when I first came in here, I'm fairly well-to-do. I know you think I have money, because my friend, who recommended you, had almost no money, and all you took was fifty dollars over and above expenses, though I'll bet she paid part of the same price I paid."

"I never discuss one client with another," I answered, though Judy had been right. There was only one woman I had charged a straight fifty dollars plus expenses, and I had balled her backwards, forwards, and upside do… literally.

"Anyway," Judy went on, "I admit I have lots of money. You can revise your charges on me if you wish."

"I set the price. I'll stick by it," I told her. "You've already paid part of it."

"You're really a man of your word," she said, smiling, and that smile all but turned me on again. "As I said, I have money. I told Cy I wanted a divorce, but he refused to give it to me. Or I should say he swore he would contest it. I know if I offered him enough money he'd be willing to split. But I don't think I owe him a damn cent. So I want to be rid of him as quickly as you can get the pictorial evidence."

"Okay," I agreed. "Have you any idea when he has his next rendezvous?"

"No. But I do know he always takes her to the Elton."

Why that fleabag? I wondered. Hell, that suited me fine. I had a deal with both the day and night managers of the Elton. Both were bribable men, and both would let me set up the proper equipment in one of their rooms, and then steer the guy I wanted to catch to that room.

Judy gave me a hundred dollars advance, and then left.

I kept a second videotape recorder and camera packed in a suitcase, and said suitcase I kept stashed in my closet. The recorder already had fresh tape on it, I always load the damn thing up after I've finished using it. Never can tell when it'll be needed instantly.

Hauling the suitcase out of the closet, I set it on the floor near my desk and opened it. Everything inside was in perfect working order. I took my .38 caliber automatic from my desk drawer, checked the fifteen round clip, stashed it in my belt holster on my right side where my left hind could reach it easily enough, but where it couldn't be seen when I left my jacket unbuttoned.

Shutting the suitcase, I toted it downstairs to my car parked directly in front of the Stone Building. There was a busted parking meter there that always read a half hour of time. My old, out-of-date, maroon Ford Falcon was there. I don't keep the car out of necessity. I could've afforded a Continental Mark IV or a Mercedes. But a maroon Ford Falcon is a very inconspicuous car. No one looks twice at it unless it's parked wrong.

Putting the suitcase into the car, I got in and drove the fifteen blocks to the Elton. Once there, I went inside, smelling the dust, and through the dust the oldness of the place.

Ronnie "Seagull" Byrd was on duty at the desk. He was young, not even twenty, and had the job because no one else could be found to take it. He had brown, afro-styled hair though he was as bigoted a white man as ever existed. And he talked with a faint lisp, which sometimes made one wonder which way he swung. The chicks frequenting the lobby let me know Byrd was straight. He'd let them ply their trade in the hotel (charging the John they'd picked up for the use of the room) in return for a fuck whenever one of them was free and he felt like it. He and his buddy, the night clerk Kenny Astoria, had a regular thing going with the chippies.

"Hey, Ira babe;" he smiled, when I came in. "What's the deal?"

I asked him about Cy Roberts, showing him a photo Judy had furnished, and he nodded, admitting he knew the guy, though the guy registered regularly as John Smith. He always brought the same broad in. Tall, stringy, almost no tits, with a big nose and brown straight hair cut short. She was really nothing to look at, but the guy apparently dug her. According to Ronnie Byrd there was no accounting for taste.