H. Hawkes - For couples only

His mind reeling in frustration, Boyd got up and stood beside the bed. Faith moaned mournfully and held out her arms to him. Her legs opened invitingly. Her pelvis heaved with urgent desire, raising her smooth buttocks up off the mattress and moving in little hunching, circular motions.

"Fuck me… Please, darling, I need you… I need you…"

The hair surrounding her cunt was wet with sweat and sex juices, plastered to her skin in tight little curls. Her outer lips were standing wide open, blood engorged and swollen with raw lust. Her inner lips also protruded outward, and were colored a fiery red in testimony to her agitated state of sexual need. Resembling a small penis in full erection, her clitoris had left the protection of its hood and stood out boldly at the top of her elliptical opening.

The sight was even more frustrating to Boyd. He stood gawking down at the wild woman his wife had become. His penis throbbed eagerly as his eyes took in the condition of Faith's cock-hungry pussy. He had never seen it in quite this condition. And there was something else he saw, something that both thrilled and repelled him. The something else was not a natural part of Faith's sexual excitement, nor any other female, for that matter. It was white and sticky-looking. The inch of skin between her cunt and asshole was covered with it. In her asshole itself was a small pool of the white fluid that almost obscured the anus-brown color.

"Hurry, darling, hurry," Faith murmured. She clamped down the muscles of her vagina as if caressing an imaginary penis within it. The motion sent a blob of Dirk's deeply planted come rushing down her tunnel.

Unable to tear his gaze from her cunt, Boyd saw the mass of his wife's adulterous lover's come slide obscenely out of her vagina. It stopped just inside her crimson-red inner lips and jiggled there momentarily, then oozed out and pooled in the widespread opening of her young pussy. The sight drew him like a magnet. As if hypnotized, Boyd bent over his wife and brought his face closer to her steaming slit. Her inner muscles relaxed and the pool of Dirk's come was slurped back up inside her belly.

With an alien groan ripping from his throat, Boyd put both his hands on her lower abdomen and pressed down. The come again appeared at the end of her vagina. He pressed harder, trying to see it come out the rest of the way and lie in her open cunt-lips like it did before. It refused to leave the warm comfort of her vagina.

Faith could feel her husband's hot breath as it bathed her vulva. One hand now pressed at her stomach while the fingers of another probed through her sensitive inner lips and played maddenly just inside the tube of her vagina. "Boyd! Boyd? Boyd… what are you doing, honey?"

An animal-like grunt was his only answer for perhaps twenty seconds or more. Then her buttocks were hoisted up suddenly and Boyd was kneeling between her legs, bringing his face up awfully close to her crotch and pushing her thighs up and wider apart.

"Honey? Boyd?"

His voice was unrecognizable, a raspy exhalation of breath. "Squeeze down again… like you had a cock up you!"

Obediently she again caressed an imaginary penis and held the walls of her vagina clamped tightly together. She felt Boyd tremble violently as his fingers gripped harshly into the soft flesh of her elevated thighs. She raised her head and looked down into his face. A gasp of astonishment escaped her open mouth at the sight of his tortured facial expression. His eyes were wide and glassy. His mouth hung open and saliva drooled down his chin. His lips twitched spasmodically out of control.

"Honey… No, Boyd… NO!! OH, NOO!!!"

But it was too late, and if he heard her protestations, Boyd gave no sign of heeding her pleas. With a pitiful little whimper he dropped his face to her genitals and claimed her cunt with his mouth. Faith was dumfounded by his action. Never had he given any inkling of a desire to kiss her there… never. Why now? She was in such a mess after Dirk had finished with her.

"Oh God… Let me up, Boyd. I'll go douche it out for you, honey. Then you can suck me, but not now."

Still Boyd paid her no mind. His hands went under her ass and cupped her tightly to his face. His lips tightened over her cunt in harsh suction and his tongue shot up into her and licked… licked and licked and licked, until she thought she'd go out of her mind from the sheer pleasure of it.

With a last burst of decency, she pushed his face away and looked down pleadingly into his lust-gazed eyes. He gulped and smacked his puffy lips. A trickle of Dirk's fluid lay in a ragged, white mustache on his upper lip. She watched, more fascinated than horrified now, as he licked it off and took it into his mouth.

No one stirred in either the Leatherman or Dunston houses. Both couples slept until the sun was high up in the sky. It was the usual Sunday routine for Lucia and Dirk Leatherman. Both had dropped all pretenses of a religious belief while in college, many years past. Lucia considered herself an agnostic; Dirk never bothered to try and classify himself.

On most Sundays Boyd and Faith got up in time to attend both Sunday school and church services. Not that they were devoutly religious. It was merely the easiest way to get along, since the church they normally attended was pastored by Faith's father. It was a small church, a fundamentalist sect, and Faith's father shouted his sermons from the pulpit in the best tradition of a vanishing style of hell-fire oratory that sometimes made the hair on the back of Boyd's neck stand up in fright.

That Sunday Boyd awoke slowly. He glanced sleepily over at the clock on the bedside table. He groaned aloud. Sunday school was over and the church service was more than ten minutes underway. There'd be hell to pay at supper. Though Faith's mother was a wonderful cook, no one would enjoy the meal. Her father would see to that, as he always did when they failed to show up for Sunday morning worship. A private sermon was in order, and though he'd heard it enough times to memorize it word for word, it still left him feeling like the worst of sinners for not caring sufficiently for Faith to look after her soul by making sure that she was in a front pew when her father delivered his message of the week to the small flock.

Reaching for a cigarette, Boyd wondered why they'd forgotten to set the alarm. He had the cigarette in his mouth and lit before he was awake enough to remember anything of last night's activities. His hand trembling slightly, he shook out the match and sucked a deep pull of smoke down into his lungs. The dead match fell into the ash tray with a tiny tinkle. He exhaled with a sigh, turning to look at Faith.

A sleeping angel. That's what she reminded him of. Her appearance of this morning was no different than on any other morning. The features of her lovely face were calm and serene. A radiant innocence seemed to emanate from her.

Could it have been a dream? Grotesque mental images of his pure wife lost in lustful abandon with Dirk Leatherman flitting careeningly across Boyd's mind. It had seemed so real, so painful. Had he only dreamt it? But wait – what about the shameful way he and Faith had ripped at each other after they got home?

Boyd ran one hand under himself and felt his back. He winced in pain at the swollen welts left by Faith's long fingernails. The final climax of their private orgy had brought out a purely animal part of his wife that Boyd had never before suspected. She'd clawed viciously at his back and yelled at the top of her lungs for him to come with her. After he had, they'd rolled apart and fell immediately into a deep sleep.

Sometime during the night Faith had managed to pull the cover up over her nude body. Boyd now eased it back gently. The sight of her full breasts rising and falling in the rhythm of sleep brought a stifled gasp. They were covered with bruises where his fingers had slapped so roughly.