Ron Taylor - Back Door Wives

They were sharing the spacious tub, washing the lipstick and the cum from each other's bodies, trading kisses and tit-sucks and naughty caresses in special places. A half-drunk bottle of wine teetered on the rim of the tub, and the girls themselves were likewise close to half-drunk.

"Is this a private party?" a voice asked, and Tricia jerked back in surprise, a long trail of drool connecting her mouth to the lips she had just been sucking.

Roger, Kate's husband, slouched in the doorway, leaning against the frame, smiling as he watched the two women in the tub.

Tricia still regarded herself as pretty shy and demure, and it was embarrassing as hell to be caught naked by her friend's husband, especially with her face freshly smeared with lipstick and her big, pointy-nippled tits cuddled in Kate's possessive hands.

Kate, on the other hand, didn't seem at all fazed, and somehow Trish wasn't exactly surprised. "What are you doing home?" she asked. "I thought you worked for a living."

"I had to come out this way for an appointment," Roger said nonchalantly, stepping into the bathroom, "and I thought I'd stop by and knock off a quick one to get me through the rest of the day. But it looks like that's what you just finished doing." He sat down on the john. "So, Tricia," he added, "I didn't know you were into pussy."

Trish blushed scarlet. She couldn't think of anything to say. At least Roger wasn't outraged at what he'd found.

"Darling," Kate said, "we need to know something. Have you been filling Ken's head with ideas about nasties like asshole fucking? He seems to have had some distinctly anal urges recently that poor Trish didn't feel up to handling, and of course she had to come talk it over with Auntie Kate. I told her you're the prime suspect for planting the idea. True?"

Roger just smiled and shrugged, loosening his tie. "It's possible," he said. "Hell, I'm a salesman, and I'm good at it. I could sell central heating in hell. If I talked to Ken about the pleasures of fucking a tight juicy asshole, the odds are he probably stopped at the drugstore for a tube of K-Y on the way home. Yes, I think we did talk about it a time or two." He was reaching for his belt.

Tricia sat up in astonishment, the water splashing around her in the tub. Her tits floated atop the bubbly surface but she didn't even notice. She was watching Roger unzip his fly.

Kate rose out of the water and leaned over toward her husband. She reached into his undone pants and pulled his cock out into the light.

"Isn't it gorgeous?" she said, turning to Tricia. "Even soft, it's a champion. Soft???" she went on, her voice raising half an octave. "You're in the nude, glowing presence of the two ripest pieces you could ever want to knock off, and you've got a soft-on? Roger Parker, do you have an explanation for yourself???"

She was right on most counts. His cock was a champion. It was also soft, but even soft, it was almost eight inches long. God, Tricia thought, that dick belongs on a horse, not a man! What must it look like when it got hard? And had Kate actually managed to take that prick up her own asshole, as she'd claimed? Oh, shit! I don't believe it!

Kate's hand moved up and down, sliding the outer shell of flesh around the central core of Roger's prick. She kept looking back at Trish, to make sure she was still watching.

Jesus, there was no way she could have looked away from this! She'd been completely and utterly faithful to Ken from the moment they got serious about each other, but today, all bets were temporarily off. Trish had never expected to be in a situation like this, watching Kate jerk off Roger's tool, and she had not the slightest idea what might happen next, under the circumstances.

Roger stood up, his prick beginning to fill out, to lengthen and take shape. Tricia's eyes bulged in tempo with the bloating of his cock. It was jutting from his unzipped pants now, a little longer than it had been but not appreciably thicker. But it was rock hard, and there was an arch to its shape which made the big bulbous knob tilt upward like a society matron's nose.

Kate winked at Tricia. "Some hot dick, mmm, baby?" she smirked, her hand stroking it possessively. She took the bottle of wine from the rim of the tub and held it above Roger's prick.

Pouring some of the wine onto him, she began immediately to lick up and down the length of his cock, lapping the purple-red fluid almost as fast as it dribbled from the bottle's neck. She smacked her lips as she licked him.

"Well, I'm not queer," Kate said at last, as if she felt she needed to give Tricia an explanation. "I mean, I like pussy, but I 'love' cock… " And, sliding the tip of Roger's cock between her lips, she proceeded to demonstrate just how much she loved the prick.

Tricia had never seen anyone else suck a cock, and she watched with a sudden fascination that went far beyond the weird situation into which she had fallen. She stared at Kate as the woman nursed and licked the end of Roger's tool, easing it in and out of the moist warm grip of her lips. Tricia had felt those lips around her tits, her clitoris, even on her asshole, and she knew fucking well how warm and moist they could be!

Kate sucked slowly, with a calm, almost studied precision. Not only did she take him into her mouth for some shallow, wet slurps. She also moved her lips, once they were dripping with drool, up and down the exposed length of Roger's cock. Jesus, was the thing getting even longer?

Smacking her lips, pointing at him with her pink wet tongue, she took the dick into her mouth again, and this time she sucked him a little deeper, a little more aggressively. Her cheeks hollowed in and she held the base of the long stiff prick in her hands, just feeding it in.

She hummed softly as she suckled him, and Tricia watched in total absorption, noting that with each extra gulp, just a trifle more of Roger eased into Kate's mouth. Trish gulped too, almost able to feel the long stiff ramrod pushing into her own orality.

So concentrated on Kate and Roger was her attention that she was unaware she was holding her tits, pinching softly at the nipples, caressing her flesh the same way she had when she opened her legs to the attack of Kate's lips and tongue. Emotions began to throb inside her tits, and she sighed like a dove.

Kate kept on eating her husband's dick, taking him deeply and passionately. The head slipped out of her mouth, sloppy with her drool, a big wad of it still dangling from her tongue. She slurped it onto him and got him wetter still, bathing his cock like a mother cat tending its kitten.

Roger's hands were on her head, guiding her, but she didn't need any instruction. She had the whole thing well in hand, and she would soon have it well in mouth, too.

Something touched Tricia's face. She looked up, surprised. It was Roger's hand. His fingers stroked her forehead, moved through her lightly-dyed blonde hair. His knuckles scraped lightly across her cheek. She stared up at his face and she knew what he wanted.

"Oh, I couldn't…" she demurred, but she had done enough and seen enough to suspect that she really could, if she was of a mind to.

He took her hand and she stood up, water running down her body. While his wife continued to fellate his long hard prick, Roger leaned toward Tricia. His hand slid down into the small of her back, onto the curve of her ass. She leaned in his direction and his mouth crushed hers. He took a possessive grip on her asscheeks. She stepped out of the tub with one leg so she could get closer.

His tongue was in her mouth. His breath was hot, slightly flavored of onions, oozing into her mouth. She liked the taste of onions on a man's breath, on his tongue. She sucked warmly at his tongue, pushing her hard-nippled tits against him so he could feel how excited she was, too.