Rod Strong - Dealing in adultery

"Guy comes in regular, Monday Wednesday, and Fridays," Byrd went on.

"Today being Friday, he's either already here or soon will be," I pointed out.

"Comes in about three thirty," Byrd told me. "Y'got better'n an hour to kill."

"He use any special room?" I asked.

"Whatever's handy."

"Good. Set him up in 211."

"Oho! Ira-babe, you really latched onto a goody this time. Go set up your stuff."

"Thanks," I nodded, slipping him two twenties.

And twenty minutes later, the hidden videotape camera was set. I had the monitor set up in the next room, which eliminated the need for peepholes. The camera had been hidden behind a painting, and the lens of the camera seemed to blend right into said painting (that painting had cost me a small fortune when I'd first picked it up). Unless one knew what he was looking for, the lens would never be spotted.

I had time for a quick afternoon lunch and decided to take advantage of it. I walked across the street to the luncheonette and ordered a hamburger and coke. That was when Debbie came up to me. I never had found out her last name in all the years I'd known her. She was about five feet four inches tall, with long, brown curly hair, gray eyes, a short, petite nose, and thin lips, all put together to make a pretty face. Her bust was at least thirtyeight, with a pair of B cups, and her narrow waist looked as if a whalebone corset was holding it in, but from previous experiences I knew she was naturally narrow. Not so her hips, which flared wide, even under the tight miniskirt she wore. It was a black skirt to match the panties she had on underneath. Debbie had to wear panties with her skirt or be arrested for indecent exposure. The light green blouse she wore was opaque, because Debbie didn't like wearing a bra, and the way her tits jiggled, you knew it.

"You must be working," she said, sliding into the booth next to me. "Otherwise you wouldn't be caught dead eating in this neighborhood."

"Yeah," I nodded.

"Need me?" she asked.

Debbie was one of the "working girls" I used to sucker some poor slob into giving me pictorial evidence needed for divorce cases.

"Not today," I told her, finishing my food.

"Who'd you line up?" she asked.

"This guy's got his own ass," I explained.

"Can I watch?" she wanted to know.

"It'll cost," I told her.

"How much?"

"Same price you'd charge me for balling you afterward."

"Deal."

"How's business?" I asked, as we left the luncheonette.

"Pretty good," she admitted. "That's why I can afford to accept your terms. I just came back from the doctor. He's assured me I'm still clean and pure, at least where VD is concerned."

"Very good," I told her as we entered the hotel and went up to room

We waited patiently, neither of us in a hurry to arouse the other. We knew the scenes we would shortly witness would be enough to get us started afterward. Right now, I had to remain alert anyway.

About ten minutes after we'd arrived, I heard the door to room 211 shut, and switched on the monitor. This automatically started the videotape going.

Cy Roberts was a tall, lean man. He had one to two inches on me, heightwise, and he probably weighed as much as I. His iron grey hair covered his ears and came down over his forehead sloppily. He had a large nose which looked like it had been grafted on, and when he spoke, his voice was almost fairyish it was so high-pitched. He wasn't wasting any time, quickly shucking his clothing.

The woman looked almost exactly as Byrd had described her. She was tall, about five eight, very thin, with a long thin beak bent a little to the side. Her short hair was stringy and dark. She had tits, but her bra size must have been 32-A. Her waist was thin enough, and though her tummy was small, the flesh was loose. Cy Roberts had to be nuts, cheating on someone like Judy for something like this. She had a fuzzy patch of brown matting covering her pelvis, and when she bent down to pick up her panties, I could see hair running all the way up into her ass.

When Roberts turned to face the camera, an instant before getting on the bed, I could see he had a full erection, and I had been right about its breadth. The damn thing was almost pencil-thin. No wonder my cock had affected Judy Roberts so strongly.

The woman, whose name I subsequently learned was Joan Randall (Roberts apparently had a thing for women whose initials were J.R.) lay down on the bed, and Roberts spread his thin form on hers. They immediately began kissing noisily while his hands stroked her ass and her thighs. I could see her cunt was already creaming, and he was massaging the seeping fluid into her skin. She was getting her jollies from it, all right. Then he started fondling her small tits, going from one to the other, sucking on her enlarging nipples. She hummed and twisted her lanky body, laying back on the bed with a smile on her face, her long fingers running through his iron-grey hair.

Roberts knew what he was doing, all right. He'd done very little yet he had the Randall broad crazy for it. Her eyes were foggy and she writhed and wriggled every which way as he nursed on her boobs while running his hand up and down along her inner thighs.

And Cy Roberts was becoming over-excited, too. Joan spread her spindly legs and Roberts clambered between them. Her long fingers trembled visibly as she grasped his randy cock and rubbed its bluish head.

She ran the skinny prong up and down along the inner part of both outer labia, swabbing it in the hair-lined split like an oversized Q-Tip. Then she began stuffing the bullet-shaped head between the flat labia of her leaking pussy, and tugged.

Roberts pushed and began sinking his pile into her.

"Oooh wow!" she breathed, as his helmet-shaped glans disappeared into her oozing well. "This is… terrific," she muttered, chewing on his ear. Every word was being picked up loud and clear by the microphone of the videotape machine. "I wish… I knew why… your skinny… penis always

… excites me," she told him, sighing ecstatically as he continued pushing his way into her.

His skinny ass quivered with pleasure as he lowered it all the more slowly, feeding his ridiculously thin cock little by little into her oozing pink hole. The narrowness of his cock caused her labia to contract all the more tightly, until his belly slapped against hers. His large, hairy nuts rested against the bottom of her soaking crack, almost tickling her ass.

"Love it," she moaned ecstatically, twisting and turning on the bed. "Christ! What it lacks in breadth it makes up for in length. I can feel it poking into the neck of my womb, and it feels… so goddamn good."

Roberts smiled and didn't bother to reply. He merely sucked on the tongue she stuck out, then jammed his own tongue between her kissing lips, letting her mouth feel as stuffed with his tongue as her cunt was with his cock. In fact, her mouth was probably more stuffed since his tongue was probably thicker than his streamlined prick.

At that moment I felt Debbie's hand creep into mine. I took it and squeezed it. My own cock had grown so hard it was hurting me. One thing I had to say for Roberts. He really had length. The damn thing must've been nigh onto eight inches, and I wouldn't have been surprised if it was tickling her navel from the inside.

He began retreating now, drawing that lean, stiff prong from its warm, wet nook, and her petal-like labia contracted all the more tightly, reluctant to lose his probing proboscis-like prick. Now that her interior had savored his full length it didn't want to part with any of it. His rod was covered with the slavering hot juices of her aching quim. It shone as if shellacked. Her fur-lined hole seemed to chase after his retreating cock as her red, inner labia reached out from inside her body to hold onto whatever was left, and finally reluctantly releasing it.