Heather Brown - Door to door wife

I sensed it on my thighs first. When I accidentally rubbed them together they were slick with moisture.

At first I tried to tell myself it was perspiration. Nervous sweat.

But when I became aware of the clamminess of my panties I could no longer ignore the truth. My cunt was soaking wet.

Without consciously willing it, I had become hopelessly turned on!

"Is there anything wrong?" Jason asked with his usual aura of understanding.

"I… I'm afraid I got away from the questionnaire," I tried to divert his attention from my sopping condition.

"Don't worry about it," he reassured me. "I can tell already you're a natural at this kind of work. If I were a respondent, your naturalness would have made me trust you completely. I'd have told you everything."

"Really?"

"Definitely. Now why don't you continue with the questions? Quite frankly, I'm enjoying this immensely."

I couldn't think of any other viable alternative but to agree to go on. If I got up from the bed, either to leave entirely, or to go to the bathroom to wipe my pussy dry, he'd surely notice the juice dribbling down my legs.

I'd lost my place on the questionnaire, and was too flustered to try and find it. I just asked the first question that caught my eye.

"Do you masturbate?" I asked, speaking the words rapidly so I wouldn't lose my nerve.

"Of course," he said without a trace of self-consciousness. "When there's nothing else available, a quick hand-job can be most satisfying."

I was astounded. I'd always thought males gave that up after leaving adolescence. It seemed incredible that this prime specimen of handsome, mature man would actually practice self-abuse.

I dove into the next question to try and conceal my astonishment. Once again, it only made matters worse.

"Do you employ aids while masturbating?"

"As a matter of fact I frequently do."

"Such as?"

"Women's underwear, mostly. You know, panties."

Needless to say, when he said that I automatically made a mental reference to my own dripping pair. I tried to tell myself it was just my imagination, but it almost seemed that he knew about their saturated condition and was leading me on.

"Could you describe your technique?" I fool hardedly sought refuge in the next question.

"It would be a lot easier if I could just show you," he answered so smoothly that at first I didn't gauge how outrageous his response actually was.

"I… I beg your pardon?" I muttered.

"I think you might understand my masturbation technique more completely if I gave you a demonstration. May I borrow your panties?"

At last the full impact hit me. I fell back on the bed like someone had slugged me with a right to the jaw. As I did so, I'm afraid my legs spread open. Unintentionally, I suddenly gave him an inadvertent view of the undergarment under discussion, the sopping condition of which I was so anxious to conceal.

"Yes," he said with a satisfied grin as he gazed directly between my open thighs. "I believe your panties will do just fine… I'll help you out of them."

Before I could move an inch, he was out of his chair and moving toward me. As he closed the gap between us, my eyes couldn't help but train themselves on the enormous bulge in his crotch. His trousers seemed about ready to burst from the throbbing swelling inside them.

"No… wait… wait," I finally summoned the wherewithal to say, just before he reached me. "I'll take them off myself."

Before he could touch me, I slipped my trembling hands under my skirt and hooked my fingers under the elastic waistband of my panties. Then, my breath held, I quickly slid them down my legs. Their wetness against my skin was unbelievable. My pussy hadn't been so moist in years.

"Here," I presented them to him. They looked more like a sopping dish-rag than an item of apparel.

"Thanks," he winked.

Then he put them under his nose and gave them a long, snorting sniff. I could actually see his nostrils flare.

"Mmmmmmm," he announced, "they smell terrific. I'm sure they'll do just fine."

When he was through sniffing, he dropped a hand below his waist and abruptly unzipped his fly. It produced a screeching wail that practically shattered my eardrums in my agitated state.

Then, with complete nonchalance, he pulled out inch after inch of the thickest, longest hard-on I'd ever seen in my life.

"Oh, my God!" I bleated when his twitching cock was fully exposed.

"Yes, it's a beauty, isn't it?" he said proudly. "I got my eyes and my smile from my mother, and I inherited this from by father."

As he explained his lineage, he stroked the massive organ, pulling the foreskin back and forth over the purple bulb at the end. Already there was an alabaster pearl of anticipatory cum drooling from the leering vertical smile at the very tip.

"Now I'll show you how I get my action with the panties," he said. In a second he had wrapped them around his shaft and was using them like a glove to beat his meat.

With my eyes bugging out of my head, I watched the incredible sight of my own saturated panties being used by a strange man to vigorously fondle his stiff dick.

"I love it when they're wet like this," he told me as he increased the acceleration of his pumping hand. "I can close my eyes and imagine I'm actually fucking the pussy that made them so damp. All that juice is a real turn-on."

I knew I should be disgusted. But if that were so, then why was my attention hypnotically riveted to his every stroke?

"Are… are you going to come?" I heard myself ask, once again the third party watching the action from afar in the enclosed booth of my mind. "Are you going to come all over my panties?"

"What else?" he grinned. "Do you find the idea repellant?"

I choked out an unconvincing "Yes."

"Then why are you licking your lips?"

Suddenly I became aware of my tongue passing over the outside of my mouth. When I tried to put it back inside, it wouldn't go.

"Now watch this," he said arrogantly. "You're going to love it."

Without warning, his cock lurched an additional inch in the air and exploded with a milky torrent of spurting jizz. The initial gob shot across the room and landed with a wet plop right on my exposed thigh. Then he took my panties and caught the rest of the load in their crotch.

It seemed like he came continuously for a full minute. When he finally, finished, the original blue of my panties had been transformed into a milky lather of white.

However, what really caught my attention was that, despite the massive ejaculation, his dick seemed harder and stiffer than ever. Obviously he was capable of coming all aver again without the slightest bit of recuperation.

I didn't know what to do. Here we were, in this motel room, this strange man and I. He had just filled my panties with sperm, and now his dripping, twitching hard-on was apparently throbbing for even further action.

He looked straight at me. I tried to avert my gaze, but it was impossible. Our eyes met, smoldering in their reciprocal gaze.

What could I say? What could I do?

He made up my mind for me.

"Do you want to suck it?" he calmly said.

Slowly, but definitely, I nodded my head.

"Good… Why don't you strip, and I'll eat your cunt while you're doing it?"

Like I was in a trance, I sat up on the bed and quickly and efficiently disrobed. Completely naked, I lay back and spread my legs to the utmost, flexing my hairy, dripping cunt at him in all of its drooling glory.

"You have a beautiful pussy," he complimented me as he got rid of his clothes. "I can't wait to get my tongue inside it."

Then, he was on me, dipping his face between my thighs while he straddled my head with his loins. All of a sudden I found myself with his huge cock and hairy balls just an inch from my face, his masculine scent overpowering me.