Janet McCoy: The wife next door

Gradually, though, the excitement built. Their bodies automatically began to assume a faster pace. His cock lunged faster and deeper into her opening cunt. Her pussy-mound thrust upward to meet him.

"Ooohhh… ooohh, Harry! Oh Gawd, Harry!"

The increased abandon was apparent in her voice. It was becoming more tense. There was a volcano dying to erupt somewhere deep inside her. Harry's hips thrust forward faster and faster. He had forsaken the more gentle pace of lovemaking flow in favor of brute fucking. His cock was swelling, throbbing with hunger. It wasn't going to be much longer.

"Uuuuhhh… jeez! Giselle… ohhhhhh Christ! Your pussy's so good!"

"Fuck me, Harry! Fuck me!"

They moaned and panted and sweated on the mattress for what seemed an erotic eternity. Her hips writhed spasmodically upward to meet his fitful thrusts. His buttocks clenched and shoved with piston-like regularity. They bounced on the mattress like kids on a trampoline. But this was serious business – the search for orgasm.

"Uuuuuuuuuh… ooohhhhh… Harry, I'm cumming! Aaaahhhhh!"

He had never experienced such delight in making a woman cum. His heart was beating furiously as he continued his rapid-fire pace. Then suddenly he was set free. He catapulted over the brink to join her in the fiery inferno of release.

"Jee-zuz-z-z! Me too, honey!"

They lay cradled in one another's arms, talking and laughing, until their lust again prompted them to investigate one another's bodies, more thoroughly this time.

What they learned about one another during the rest of the weekend was only enough to whet their appetite for more. Neither was sure what would become of the thing they had started. But they exchanged addresses and promised to be in touch soon.

Harry's joy at meeting Giselle turned to guilt as he got closer to home and Emma. They had made a kind of pledge to give each other another chance, and he felt he had violated that pledge.

He vowed to try to make it up to his wife. He even promised himself that he would try to get Giselle out of his mind.

Emma seemed to be just as horny nowadays as she had been before her reconciliation with Harry. Hard as she tried to be a dutiful little wife content with home and hearth, she found herself more and more susceptible to the come-on looks she got daily from other men.

She knew she was being deceitful by not telling Harry about her outside affairs. Yet at the same time she was afraid to tell the truth. She knew doing so would mean a showdown. There were many advantages to living with Harry. She was not sure she wanted to give them up.

Emma had never had to wrestle with this severe a dilemma before. And it was taking its toll on her. She began to drink again. She would often be slightly drunk when Harry got home from work.

What worried her more than her own behavior was Harry's attitude toward her. He was treating her like a semi-invalid these days. He never criticized her for drinking during the day. He was never abrupt or short-tempered with her. Emma was beginning to get the idea that Harry might have a guilty conscience too.

The most disturbing symptom of his changed attitude toward Emma was that he didn't fuck her as often as he used to. Bored as she had become by his quickie nighttime fucks, when they became less frequent she realized she missed them. They were her security blanket. They told her Harry still belonged to her, whether or not she still wanted to belong to Harry.

Unable to confide any longer in her next-door neighbor, Helen, Emma spent long days alone feeling sorry for herself. She made love to the delivery boy from the supermarket one day, the plumber another, Bob another. Still she was dissatisfied, hungry for more. Her sex life seemed to have become a hole that couldn't be filled.

Emma didn't yet fully understand what was bothering her most was her inability to make a clear decision about her own life. She was letting life carry her this way and that, without taking responsibility for what she was doing. Deep inside, she hated herself for being so wishy-washy.

The days when Emma saw this clearly, she drank more than usual.

One Friday afternoon, she was feeling more than usually bored and frustrated. She was tempted to try to get in touch with Bob or one of her other lovers.

Something held her back. She decided the better thing to do would be to go meet Harry at work and suggest they go out for dinner or something. She felt she had almost got up the nerve to be honest with him about her thoughts and deeds of the last few weeks and months.

She took a bus to his lab, planning to ride back with Harry. She was surprised to find his office locked. She knocked at the door of the office next door, the one that belonged to Harry's young assistant Craig Jackson.

"Hi, Craig! Where's Harry?"

"Oh… he didn't come in today, Mrs. Tate." As soon as he had spoken, the young man looked as though he wished he could bite his tongue. He had leaked secret information. "That is, he had to go over to the university to talk to some people about our work."

Emma was shocked. It wasn't like Harry to vary his routine in any way without telling her about it. She felt nervous and suspicious, but she was determined not to let her anxiety get the better of her.

"I see… Well, it doesn't really matter. I was just going to try to get him to take me out for a drink and a chat. I've been awfully lonely today." She smiled, but her look betrayed a call for help.

Craig had always admired his boss's wife from afar. He considered Emma Tate very beautiful, with her full-blown, Scandinavian good looks. He had even had secret dreams about what it would have been like if he had met Emma before Harry did. To see her this lonely and obviously depressed shook Craig up. It was like witnessing the fall of an idol. He decided to do what he could to restore her to her proper place.

"Well," he said cheerfully. "Maybe I can be of service to a lady in distress. We do have some emergency rations here that might be of interest. Come on." He led the way down the hall to the staff lounge. Emma noticed all the other offices were empty.

"Where is everybody?" she asked. "Did the whole lab go over to the university to talk to some people?"

Craig looked a little sheepish for a minute. "No, Emma… most everyone likes to take off early on Friday afternoon if they can manage it. Today, it seemed they all had something to do this weekend that they wanted to get started on right away. I'm the only one left. Us unmarried folk get left holding the bag quite a lot."

Emma laughed. She had never had much of a chance to talk to Craig before. Whenever she saw him at the lab or he came over for dinner, he and Harry talked shop most of the time. She found him very charming, not to mention good-looking, in an angular, youthful way. Craig was another prodigy, like Harry had been. He was probably no more than twenty-one.

He pulled a bottle of gin from a cupboard over the hot plate. "Look what I've got here. Me you interested?"

"Marvelous. Just what the doctor ordered. Make mine a double."

Craig was surprised. This lady obviously knew how to drink. "Well, in that case, I'll make mine a double too."

Emma made herself comfortable on the couch and motioned for Craig to sit beside her. She was feeling a familiar naughty tingle inside. She and her husband's young assistant were all alone here. Who knew what might happen?

Emma was getting ideas.

"Shame for a fine-looking lady like you to be feeling lonely," Craig told her.

"Oh… it's not all that bad really. I'm just bored. Sometimes I get tired of the same old routine."

"It must be pretty hard being a wife of a dedicated man like Harry. You kind of have to learn to roll with the punches, I guess."