Janet McCoy: The wife next door

"Ooooohhhhh! Harry, that feels wonderful! Mmmmmm! You're making my clitoris so hard and excited!" Almost instantaneously, the woman was writhing in the throes of abandon. Helen had been waiting for this moment for almost a week. It had all the added stimulus of a fantasy come true.

Harry's tongue worked expertly up and down her tender cunt-flanges. It stabbed the sensitive flesh at unexpected moments, making her whole body shudder in response. The feel of his soft beard grazing her pussy was an extra titillation. Its light caresses were like feather-duster swathes on her cunt.

"Uuuuhh… oooohhhhhh!"

The thrill of making his redheaded neighbor tremble with passion made Harry's cock pulse mightily. He had never let himself toy with the idea of making love to another woman. He had tried to convince himself that Emma was enough for him. And in a way, she was. She kept him from dying of horniness. But she didn't give him the excitement he needed to really believe in himself as a man.

Helen's response left no doubt in his mind that he knew what to do to excite a woman. She was in his power, one hundred per cent.

He wanted to experiment with her… see how high he could get her. Her pussy tasted fine, but he wanted more. His mouth moved up over her stomach, caressed the little indentation of her navel. Even that seemed to drive her wild. She wriggled her body hungrily, thrust her belly button up against his tongue.

Helen was delighted with her find. She had set her sights on Harry Tate, expecting to find a sexual babe-in-the-woods. Now she was writhing in helpless passion under his mouth, greedy for whatever he intended to do to her. She gasped with delight as his mouth closed over a nipple and sucked.

The electric pleasure-jolts darted with lightning speed throughout her trembling body. It felt so good! Helen let her mind dwell on the sensations he was dealing her breasts… on his lips, his tongue, his cool breath. Each had their own special way of driving her to distraction.

"Ooooohh… oh Harry, I'm cumming, darling! Aaarrgghhhh!"

The young scientist could not believe his ears. He didn't know it was possible for a woman to cum just from having her breasts stimulated. He felt very proud of himself and his skill as a lover. He was beginning to realize he could do no wrong, if he followed the dictates of his sensuality.

The excitement of having this beauty writhing helplessly beneath him made his cock throb. It demanded attention. He crawled farther up over her and shoved his cock-head against her yielding cunt-opening. His turgid rod soared far up into her heated depths. Her cunt-walls squeezed his prick greedily.

"Aaiieeeee! Oh Helen, what a nice pussy you have! Uuuuhhh, good!" He began to fuck hard and deep into her. She replied with a mind-bogging wriggle of her ass that thrust her pussy up to meet his every instroke. "Jee-zuz, you're a sexy woman!" Harry had never felt so free, so sexy in his entire life. There was something about fucking a woman not his wife, right in his own living room, that excited the rogue inside Harry Tate. It was depraved, wicked by his traditional code of morality. But it was turning him on – to life, to himself. He felt like he could fuck the world right now.

"Oh… do it to me, Harry! Fuck me!"

With every ounce of energy he possessed, he did the woman's bidding. His stiff prick swelled to even greater hardness as it penetrated her clutching pussy again and again and yet again.

Emma was relieved to be getting home earlier than she had expected. It had been fun spending time with her mother. But she had gotten horny and she had missed her husband, and her lovers back home.

When her mother had accepted an invitation to take a trip to the lake with Emma's aunt and uncle, Emma had been only too pleased to oblige by leaving a couple of days early. She had been invited to go along too, but she maintained that Harry needed her. A good wife's place was at her husband's side. Even relatives couldn't argue with that.

Emma let herself in the front door, expecting to find Harry poring over his work in his den. She was totally unprepared for the sight on her living room couch.

Harry was fucking Helen with the tireless energy of a devoted lover. Helen was obviously loving every minute of it. She was moaning and writhing like a woman who has just discovered the joy of sex.

Emma's instant response was jealousy. This time, Helen had gone too far. It was one thing to horn in on her and Bob. It was another to shamelessly seduce her innocent husband. She looked doubtfully at the furiously fucking pair. It was a little hard at the moment to say who had seduced whom, but she was sure it had been Helen. Harry would never initiate a thing like this – would he?

Something inside Emma realized this was exactly what she had been saying she wanted Harry to do – to start getting interested in other women. But it was one thing to say so, and another to find her devoted husband in the arms of another woman.

"What the hell's going on here?" she shouted. She rushed over to the couch and tried to pull Harry off Helen.

Harry flushed with embarrassment and tried to pull away from Helen, but the redhead wouldn't release him.

"Who the hell do you think you're kidding, Emma?" Helen was mad. There would be no holds barred in this argument. Emma had interrupted her right on the verge of her second orgasm. "How many times have you fucked my Sam? And that salesman friend of yours, Bob? How dare you try to treat me and Harry as if we had done something bad to you? You've been fucking around for months!"

The fury in Helen's words and the look in Harry's eye made Emma pull back. Helen was right, and Harry was hurt. She had acted like a fool. She realized she had been trying to enforce a double standard – it was okay for her to fuck Helen's husband, but Helen should keep hands off hers. Unfair, no matter how she tried to rationalize it. "I'm sorry," she murmured. She slumped down into an armchair, and waited for the shit to hit the fan. Surely Harry would be furious with her.

"Is that true, Emma?" he asked quietly. "Have you been having affairs with other men?"

His voice was so hurt, so gentle, that Emma felt an immediate need to lash out at him. He was not going to make her feel guilty! "Yes, it's true! I couldn't just wither up and die in this house, Harry! I didn't have a career to occupy me! I needed something!"

"Didn't I make love to you often enough? Wasn't I good to you?"

"Sure, Harry! You were so good, I felt guilty at first. Then I realized I needed a life, too. I wasn't going to spend my life trying to communicate with a man who always had a book between us at the breakfast table."

"Don't you understand, Emma? It's my life's work. I'm good at it. I'm doing things to help people. I thought you were proud of me." His voice was beginning to betray anger, frustration. Emma's accusations were striking like a bolt out of the blue.

"Look, you guys… maybe I better be going." Helen realized the mood she and Harry had established could not be revived tonight. She didn't want to be around when Emma's husband digested the full impact of what his wife had been up to. Even mild Harry Tate might have a raging bull lurking inside. She had already established he was part tiger.

Emma and Harry didn't pay any attention to her leave taking. She was glad. It was better this way. Husband and wife had things to work out.

Harry and Emma sat silent in the living room for a long time. Sometimes they glared at each other. Sometimes they looked away, became absorbed in their own thoughts.

There was a chasm between them. Neither dared to try to bridge it.

"Coming to bed?" Emma asked at last. She wanted to make a truce. She was feeling small and frightened. She wanted to curl up in Harry's arms.