Simon Jillson - Driven To Depravity

Suddenly lips closed around Judy's clitoris, and Judy thought her whole body was going to explode into glittering fragments.

Half out of her mind from an endless lesbian orgasm, Judy sought the bump of Paula Shein's clit with her own lips. She sucked juicy, quivering, oozing folds of flesh between her lips, found the pearl of Paula's nerve-laden button, and battered it wildly with her tongue.

Paula's hips suddenly cut loose in a titanic heave and Judy lost her target. Frantically, Judy wrapped her arms around Paula's hips and clutched at Paula's ass to restrain her convulsive heaving and keep contact with her clitoris. At the same time, Judy's own hips were heaving, slamming her pubis into Paula's working, sucking, stimulating, eating mouth.

The sapphic coupling degenerated into a quivering, muscle-straining tangle as the two orgasms went on and on and on. Faces were mashed against crotches, squeezed between clutching thighs. Juicy, wet, slurping eating sounds filled the room for a long time. Finally, sexual and muscular exhaustion released the women from their torment. Then they simply lay limp, Paula still on top of Judy.

Finally, Paula rolled off Judy. Gloriously, shamelessly nude, Paula went into the bathroom and returned with a damp washrag. Sitting on the side of the bed, she tenderly washed the spit and cum from Judy's face.

Then she carefully bathed Judy's pussy and the insides of her thighs.

Judy didn't move. Mentally, emotionally, and physically, she hurt from the uninhibited lesbianic interlude.

"You are quite a saleslady," Paula commented, breaking the silence at last.

Judy stared at the woman. "Why?" she asked miserably.

"Why not?" Paula countered easily. "Do you love your hausband any less, or want him any less now?"

"No," Judy acknowledged after a moment's thought.

"Exactly. Men and women just have different things to offer. I like cock just as much as I like pussy, and I'll suck cock as eagerly as I'll eat pussy."

The foul words seemed to spout easily from Paula Shein's elegant mouth.

Judy shook her head, still bewildered. "I've got to go."

"I hope your husband will live," Paula commented. "He has a fine wife.

Oh, and incidentally, about selling the house?"

Judy paused, her panties half up her thighs. "Yes?"

"I have always disliked this place."

"But you said…"

"I know what I said. I also know what I wanted."

Somehow, Judy felt no resentment at finding out she had been used again.

Paula waved her hand at the windows that looked out over the valley.

She didn't look in their direction, however. "It's a beautiful house, I agree. And the view is unbelievable."

"Then why do you dislike it?" Judy asked, honestly curious.

"Steven doesn't know it, by the way," Paula added. "The trouble is, I am afraid of heights."

Comprehension dawned on Judy, and along with it, sympathy. "I'm sorry."

"Now you know a secret about me, just as I know a secret about you. We are at each other's mercy."

"I wouldn't…"

"Neither would I," Paula assured her. "Give me a kiss before you go?"

Judy put her heart and her soul into the kiss she gave the taller woman. They met, woman to woman, equals in the long, honest embrace.

"Good luck with your husband, and the buyer," Mrs. Shein said.

"Thank you," Judy replied. "And good luck with your new house."

Judy lay snuggled in Mark's arms, her skin sliding gently against his as he breathed. He was sleeping peacefully, for once, because of his recent treatment. Adding to his relaxed state was the strenuous lovemaking he and Judy had just indulged in.

Judy, on the other hand, was wide awake, her mind endlessly circling, giving her no peace. Over and over and over again she relived the events of the past few days. Her conscience was determined to give her no peace. Guilt was a sour knot in her stomach, a bitter coating in her mouth.

How had she gotten into the whole mess? That was the question that kept repeating itself in her mind. Over and over and over again she kept trying to answer it – with justifications, life or death reasons.

Then why are you enjoying it so much? asked her conscience.

So she tried to tell it that she wasn't really enjoying all the extramarital sex. But it was a stupid denial. She had enjoyed it, and she knew it. She had enjoyed the carnal coupling with Steven Shein on the sun-baked pool deck, his thick cock pistoning in her dripping, hungry vagina. She had enjoyed the juicy, uninhibited screwing with Andrew McCarter, had relished the feel of the big Irishman slamming his powerful phallus into her tender pussy.

And, worst – or best – of all, had been the lesbian tangling with Paula Shein. Judy had had several brushes with lesbianism: in high school, during her gymnastics career, and while she had been a dancer. In high school there had been hesitant experimentation at slumber parties, although not by Judy herself. Two of her girl friends, whose reputations were already shot, had tussled wildly one night, thighs driving into pussies, while Judy and the other pajama-clad fifteenyear-olds had watched, giggling nervously.

On the gymnastics tour there had been a lesbian romance that all the team members had known about. Judy had been careful not to make friends with either of the lesbians.

At the bar where she had worked Judy had been propositioned by one of the older girls. Shocked, sickened, and a little frightened, Judy had brushed the girl off rudely.

And now, Judy reflected, she had done it with another woman. Instead of it being sickening and disgusting, she had enjoyed it. She had enjoyed it easily as much as she enjoyed sex with Mark, or Steven Shein, or Andrew McCarter. She could still remember the intensity of the orgasm Paula Shein had brought her to with her sucking and chewing. Judy could still remember the taste of Paula's streaming, dripping, cumming pussy, the overpowering scent of female sex.

The memory brought a perverse flicker of sexual excitement that made Judy tense her crotch muscles. Desperately, she thrust the memory out of her mind, and tried to focus it on her other troubles.

Had she locked her desk at work? That thought sent a chill up her spine. The listing agreement Steven Shein had signed was still in her desk. Granted, it was hidden. But what if someone went into her desk looking for a yellow pad? Then Judy remembered that during her senseless dithering before coming home, she had locked her desk.

Who would she have to go to bed with next? The question surged tantalizingly to the surface of her mind. Why would she have to go to bed with anyone else? She had the Sheins' agreement to sell, and Andrew McCarter's to buy. There was no one else to go to bed with.

Judy tried to deny that this conclusion gave her a feeling of disappointment. She didn't want to go to bed with anyone but her husband! She didn't!

But she did. Irrationally, perversely, she did want to have other men than Mark. And the hideous fact was that it really didn't matter too much who it was. An orgasm was an orgasm, was an orgasm. And the orgasms she had gotten from Steven Shein, Andrew McCarter, and Paula Shein had been fully as good as any that she had ever had with Mark.

They had, in fact been better, because of the "forbidden fruit" aspect of them, a strange house, a strange setting, with strangers.

Nothing like it had ever happened to her before in her life, had it?

She had never been wild or wanton, had she? Oh, she hadn't been a virgin when she had married Mark. In fact, she hadn't been a virgin when she had met Mark. But she had never been promiscuous – had she?

She had blocked all recollections of a certain incident for years. She had deliberately forgotten that incredible night because of the shame she felt about it. But now it loomed large in her mind as she lay in the grasp of her trusting, unsuspecting husband. Maybe that one wild night was more her true nature than the life she had been living ever since.