Janet Mccoy: Hot bed brides

Each time he gave her one of his lewd compliments, she seemed to wiggle even more furiously than before. He knew she liked to wallow in the sheer abandoned perversion of lovemaking. She liked it when he talked to her. When he told her how hot and wet her cunt was. It was part of the way they liked to do it together. When she summoned up the control to utter something better than incoherent moans, she returned his compliments.

"Oh God, Tate! Your cock's so big and filling in meee! Oh, I love the way you screw me, lover! My cunt's been hot for you all day!" Her ass slammed back hard against his loins. He watched the amazing suppleness of the smooth flesh as she threw her buttocks first one way and then the other. Annie had been studying belly dancing at school and she could move muscles most other women didn't even know existed. It made making love to her that much more exciting. She had great control of her cunt-muscles too!

"Jee-zuz, Annie! You make it fucking hard for a guy to hold onto it! Shit, your pussy's trying to suck the cum right out of me!" His fingers dug into her hips. He lunged deep into her welcoming cunt.

She giggled recklessly. His deep lunge drove a gasp from her throat. "It's going to get it too!" she taunted him. "Oh yesss! I want to feel your cum in me, all wet and squishy! Mmmmmm!"

As he watched old Mrs. Moore totter by outside on her cane, he slammed his cock again and again as far into Annie's cunt as it would go. Outside images grew distant and vague. The only reality was the intense fire surging from his young wife's twat.

His balls were growing heavier and heavier. The heat of their coupling grew more and more urgent. It was overwhelming him. Her cunt had become hot as hell, and tempting as paradise.

"Oooooohhh, Tate… I'm cummmmmming-g-g!" Her voice was shaky, desperate, blissful, the way it always was when she war in the throes of orgasm. Her buttocks ground heedlessly fuck at him. He let himself be overwhelmed by her energy.

"Uuuuhhk… here it cums, baby! All the wet and squishes you can handle! Jeez-z!" When the last of his hot load had shot up into her cunt, he grabbed her around the chest and bent over her, waiting to recover his strength. He cupped a tit in each hand. Her was as content as a man could be.

When they had ridden out the doldrums of bliss, they got around to the 'hello' kiss. "Did you have a good day, baby?"

"Oh yes. And the best part just happened." She smiled wickedly at him and headed for the kitchen. "How about some cookies and milk?"

"Make mine a beer!" He followed her into the kitchen. She had pulled her skirt down over her ass, bat it pleased him to think that her buttocks were bare underneath. And his cum-juices were right now trickling down her thighs. She sipped her milk. Her big brown eyes watched him over the rim of her glass.

"Good news, Annie. Remember Sam? He's coming for a visit in a couple of days. He just got back from France, and he's got himself a brand new French wife."

"Great. Maybe she'll let me practice my French on her."

"I don't see why not."

"Well, I'm pretty bad. But it'd help a lot to have someone who's really French to talk to. The kids at school are mostly worse than I am."

"That's only natural. You can't expect your average kids at school to hold a candle to you, baby. You're precocious."

Her brown eyes flashed. Her milk was three-quarters gone. "I am, aren't I?"

"You bet. Let me have a couple of those cookies."

"Have as many as you want. I've changed my mind. I think I'd like to have some sausage instead." She stared at him boldly.

Tate could feel himself weakening. He knew that, within five minutes, she would have his cock hard and throbbing all over again. She would have his swollen cock deep in the moist loving confines of her greedy mouth.

"I almost hate to let old Sam see what a lucky guy I am. He's liable to roll over and die of jealousy. Sam's always been a little jealous of me, anyway."

"He may not be doing too badly, French women are famous as lovers."

"Who needs the French? I've got Annie!" He pinched her hardened nipple as he headed for the refrigerator and another beer.

Sam tipped the bellboy as soon as he had placed the bottle of bourbon, the ice bucket and their chilled glasses on the little glass coffee table. He hustled the handsome youth out of their hotel room and turned to face his wife.

Mimi was calmly preparing their drinks. As usual, she looked beautiful. She had slipped into a filmy pink peignoir trimmed with fur. He had resented the way the bellboy eyed her in that one moment before he started to back him out of the room. Obviously, even in an exclusive hotel like this one, Mimi stood out one notch above the rest. Mimi… with her dark flashing eyes, her curly black hair that reached just to chin length, her well-chiseled features that recalled a model or a women of leisure.

Mimi was not a model, but she was a woman of leisure. She had never lifted a finger in her life. She had always been pampered by men, first her father, then her first husband, and now Sam. Sam was not wealthy, but he was comfortable, thanks to an inheritance from his father, who had worked himself into an early grave establishing a business that would spare Sam and his sister the need ever to work. For appearance's sake, Sam did work, from time to time. He lectured in English literature at various universities in the States and overseas. His reputation as a minor poet and his income, he knew, were the two things that had drawn Mimi to him. Not that he thought she didn't love him. He was pretty sure that she did love him, as much as Mimi had ever loved anybody.

But Mimi was a practical woman. She would never have sacrificed comfort for love. Only when she was assured that she could live the way she wanted and needed to, could Mimi relax enough to learn to love. She had learned to love Sam.

"I wish to hell, Mimi, that you wouldn't flaunt yourself in front of every guy in sight."

Calmly, Mimi stirred her bourbon and, ice with her finger. She seemed to enjoy the melodious tinkle of the ice against the glass. "Don't be silly, Sam. I look. That ees all. I can't help eet eef that surprises the American men." Mimi didn't let Sam upset her. She knew by now that he was an excitable man and, a jealous one. She liked his possessiveness. But she also enjoyed the obvious interest in the eyes of so many of the American men she had admired since their arrival at Kennedy airport. American men were in general so much bigger and stronger looking than Frenchmen. And they were so bold in their looks. Mimi liked that. She liked to look straight into a stranger's eyes and make love to him a little with her soul. American men had her intrigued.

Sam began to feel abashed. He started to worry that he was worrying about nothing. In fact, he realized that Mimi did nothing in particular to attract men's attention. She just was. And that was enough to interest the avenge red-blooded American male. Sam decided he was going to keep a close eye on Mimi while they were in America. While he was pretty sure that Mimi was too lazy to launch any major campaign to go out and get laid, he had his suspicions that, if the opportunity were offered by the right man, she would be willing…

Slowly, Mimi rose and walked over to the king-sized bed. She was wearing very high black heels that accentuated her already provocative wiggle. He could see the enticing bulges where her ass-cheeks strained against the opaque material of her peignoir. His cock throbbed. "I'm sorry, Mimi. I know I shouldn't get so jealous… but Jee-zuz, I can't help it. You're such a damned good-looking woman! You can't blame me for trying to defend my territory just like any old dog guarding his sheep." Sam was from Oklahoma, and occasionally it showed in his language. Though normally, he sounded like any other English professor, when he was emotionally overwrought, he found comfort in returning to his roots. Oklahoma was still planted deep in Sam's soul.