Lips on cock
I wonder what this is, she thought, staring at the envelope.
Some mail I didn't see? Looks interesting. She flipped it over to
see "Fragile" stamped in official black ink. Must be business
cassettes she reasoned. Probably old letters he'd dictated to his
secretary for the past six months.
It was tempting. Gillian always stayed clear of her husband's
work, never wanting to involve herself to the degree where she had
to take many phone messages or get in that abominable rut of
typing letters. But with all this talk of film making lately, so
what? She stepped down off the chair, envelope in hand, and
brushed the footprints from the royal blue weave.
She sipped again from her martini. The liquor was beginning to
affect her now, in several different ways. Giddy and careless, she
sat down at her husband's desk and opened the unsealed envelope.
It always gave her a little thrill to see or hear about bits or
evidence of his business success--like a peek into his brain, a
part she never witnessed otherwise. Her ardor of a few minutes
earlier, instead of waning, seemed to have gained intensity, so
that she felt a moistening down in her pussy, flowing out to
dampen her thighs; and she felt too, a boldness that she had never
expected before, an irrational desire to do something she had
never done before--involve herself in her husband's business.
Impulsively, then, stifling another slightly tipsy giggle,
Gillian reached out and grasped the envelope. Her fingers fumbled
at the sealed flap, finally got it open; and then she was drawing
out what appeared to be cassettes out of an instant movie camera.
It was a strange way to dictate a business letter. Which made her
even more curious about her husband's affairs. She held them in
her lap, letting them lie there, on the warm velvet mound of her
lower belly, as she drained the last of the martini. Then she drew
the viewer, which Stephan had set on his desk, towards her and
flipped them into the slot, turning the machine on and waiting for
the blank screen to come on.
Her first reaction was one of shocked horror. She blinked
rapidly several times, her eyes held transfixed by the full color
carnality which she saw in the viewer's screen. Her brain was
spinning with the combined forces of startlement and undiluted
gin. Lord, they were really fucking!
Gotta get another drink! She picked up the unseen film
cassettes and the viewer and headed for the kitchen, having first
dropped off the film and viewer on the bedroom dresser.
My God! she thought when she'd settled on the bed in their
bedroom. This is ... it's filthy! It's pornography, that's what it
is, plain and simple pornography!
She wanted to cast the offending cassettes from her, but a
curious perversity made her grip them more tightly between her
fingers and kept her eyes fastened to the viewing screen. The
first cassette showed a sweet-looking blonde straddling a dark-
haired man; both of them were nude, with their cocks and cunts
fully exposed to the camera, and his ... his prick was pushed
halfway up into her open pussy!
Gillian swallowed hard, watching the expression on the young
woman's face. It was one of sheer, unadulterated ecstasy, lids
drooping, mouth parting and wet. With the tip of her wet pink
tongue darting out between her lips, she seemed to be oblivious to
the camera, caught up in the sexual frenzy of the moment, of the
feeling of the man's hardened cock imbedded deep within her
tightly gripping cunt walls. And she was manipulating her own
tits, squeezing them passionately in her ardor.
God! She can't be more than nineteen years old! Gillian thought
feverishly.
Staring at the angelic young girl's obvious enjoyment, Gillian
felt a quickening of her breath, a fluttering in her lower belly.
The inside of her mouth was dry, and she ran her pink tongue over
her lips several times, trying to dispel the arid, cottony taste.
Her now trembling fingers pulled the first cassette from the
viewer and pushed the second one into the machine. She gasped, and
a little spiral of unwanted heat wended its way upward through her
hotly streaming pussy into her belly and chest, hardening the
firm, ruby crests of her snowy tits. A man, distinguished and
older, was crouched between the widespread thighs of a small,
well-proportioned blonde, his long wet, seemingly hard tongue
curled out to flick over the naked pussy and the erect clitty of
the passion-tensed girl!
A wave of puritan revulsion took hold of Gillian, and again she
wanted to throw the offending cassettes from her--break them up
into little pieces.
Why, oh why did Stephan get these? Where did he get them? Isn't
he satisfied with me? Am I such a bad fuck? All these questions,
answered only by her own shallow breathing, clouded her mind,
mixing with the gin into a miasma of self-doubt.
But she did not throw them away. Again, she stared at the
viewer, at a man, at his tongue licking hungrily at the widespread
pussy of the blonde girl. Lord, she moaned softly to herself at
the lewd, cunt-flooding sight. He's going to suck her pussy and
make her cum just like Stephan did to me last night on the living
room floor after he took those dirty pictures of me with my legs
spread on the couch! I ... I wonder if she's going to suck his
cock like Stephan wanted me to do?
A cascade of shame flowed through her, causing her to flush a
violent crimson. She was no better than the ... the lascivious
people in the films! Thinking filthy thoughts, working herself
into an impossible sexual froth. Suddenly, she wished again that
her husband were home. Her pussy was so hot now, heated by the gin
and the perversity of the lewd instant films she held in her
quaking hand.
"God, I shouldn't torture myself like this!" she moaned aloud,
but even as the words left her lips she was pulling out the third
cassette and placing it on the viewer.
And there it was! Just as she had imagined! There was another
young woman, with her lips firmly ovalled around the lust-hardened
cock of a thin, muscular man! And she was enjoying it, this young
girl was enjoying, yes reveling in the taste of the man's huge
prick! She was actually groveling in the very thing Stephan had
for so long wanted her to do to him.
A low cry of frustrated despair tore from Gillian's throat, and
she was finally able to push the film away from her, the lewd
cassettes in disarray on the bed beside her. She lay there,
trembling, opening and closing her legs in a vain effort to dispel
the tingling, flowing excitement which the lewd film had built to
a fanning inferno between her soft, pulsating thighs.
Stephan, she thought confusedly, Stephan, I need you. I wish
you were here right now! I want you, I want you to fuck me,
Stephan ... oh, Stephan!
Her hands went out on either side of her to clutch the spread.
Her belly was on fire now and her cunt ached for cock. It was as
if the pussy-arousing acts she was seeing here tonight had aroused
her passions to the desperation point. Tears flowed from her eyes,
and her body squirmed lewdly on the bed. She wiped away the
wetness which was obscuring her vision--and her gaze fell again on
one of the cassettes, the nearest one. She pushed the film into
the viewer.
It showed a nakedly locked couple performing simultaneous oral
fucking in the classic sixty-nine position!
Her eyes grew glazed. Breath spewed raggedly from between her
open, tongue-moistened lips. She stared at the picture, at the
woman in the process of running her own wetly glistening tongue
upward over the man's cum-swollen balls to the ridged underside of
his hardened cock, as the man's lips pressed tightly to the
gaping, pink-red softness of the girl's wide-split young pussy,
his nose gently tickling the tiny puckered ring of her asshole.
Oh, God, I'm sorry, Gillian's mind cried, I'm sorry. But I
don't care. I can't stand it. I can't!
And in one swift motion, the beautiful young wife rolled onto
her back, still watching the salacious, full-color movie with her
eyes, and with her free hand drew open the red velvet robe.
Beneath it she wore only a thin pair of flimsy panty briefs. As if
a separate entity, ungoverned by her will, the hand drew the
panties down, slowly, slowly, as she raised her quivering
asscheeks high off the bed.
Her passion-fogged brain blotted out all the evils she had been
led to believe would come from finger-fucking herself. There was
only her urgency now, her need for release from the intense
arousal of her body by the lustful activities in the films.
She massaged the smooth, flat whiteness of her belly with the
palm of her hand, around and around, raising up to pass over her
tits with their swollen nipples, causing whirlpools of passion to
seethe within her. Then her hand, with a will of its own, moved
lower and she arched her back, raising her hips high off the bed,
her fingers passing through the downy-soft fleece of her golden
pussy hair and intensifying further the rising crescendo of
desire.
A groan of total abandonment escaped her lips, and the young,
helplessly impassioned wife moved her hand downward between her
now widespread thighs, wet with the juices of her passion. She
gently insinuated her fingers into the moist flesh, and the
feeling generated by her own fevered fingers was so very, very
good. She manipulated the soft hairlined inner lips until she
could feel them swelling with the rush of blood, and her clit was
rigid and tingling. Her index finger came in contact with the
trembling flesh, and she began to gasp with delight as she felt
release imminent. Her hips thrashed the bed and the air, her eyes
never once leaving the viewer and the lewd fucking depicted there-
-lips on cock, lips on cunt, lips on cock, lips on cunt ...
Faster, faster, faster, her finger fucked across the sensitive
little clitty of her cunt, blanking her mind of all thoughts, all
sanity; nothing existed for her in that moment except the
delirious coming of her impending cum.
And then she was there!
Oh, God, her hotly arching little pussy was cumming like wild
fire!
Her naked hips flailed frantically at the bed as wave after
wave of intensely bursting release seized her. It was pleasure so
acute that it approximated pure pain. Then, as her cum began to
ebb, her naked asscheeks sank back to the spread and her hand
stilled but did not leave her cunt. She lay there, not moving, her
eyes squeezed tightly shut now and her huge tits rising and
falling spasmodically.
And then sanity returned to her brain. With it came abject
mortification, a feeling of self-loathing that was almost as great
as the delight of her ebbing cum. She moaned aloud in despair,
sitting up, knocking the films from the bed and flinging them to
the floor around it as if they were vermin of the foulest type.
Then she threw herself face down on the bed, crying out her
torment, sick with the knowledge of the act of finger-fucking that
she had just performed on her own cunt.
Those damnable films! They were the cause of her rising
excitement into the throes of lust, her loss of self-control.
Those filthy films! Oh, damn you, Stephan! Where did you get them,
anyway? But it wasn't Stephan's fault, it was his brother's fault
for even suggesting this stupid movie-taking in the first place.
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