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The neighbor's pet

A descriptive paragraph she had typed onto final draft the day before from her husband's current masterpiece raced sensually through Beth Ann Durke's young mind as she watched her handsome neighbor leave his expensive home across Tasman Drive and walk with a smooth, athletic grace toward his three-car garage. Mmmm, he did! He literally radiated virility! What had Jay entitled the book? HER LUSTY NEIGHBOR? Yes, that was it... and very fitting, or so it would seem. She remembered the exact passage:

He was tall, broad-shouldered and handsome, the possessor of a wealthy crop of black hair which was worn in fashionable masculine shagginess to the nape of his neck. Only slight tinges of grey brushed his temples; flecks of a similar color floated about in his lecherous dark eyes. Neighborhood wives, the promiscuous young girls who worked for him, in fact, women in general who happened to lay eye on him, couldn't help but secretly ask themselves the same erotic question. With such a handsome face and built, could he possibly be as good in bed as he physically suggested? In fact, just how big and enduring was it... that unknown quantity he had to be superbly endowed with?

Yes, the intrigued, blonde wife lustfully imagined as she stood behind the front room drapes admiring Stan Wilson, he just had to be masterfully blessed with a large penis. She watched him back the black Continental from the garage, then saw his vivacious Sara come running from the house in a smart looking wrapper and matching gold slippers to bestow a day-lasting kiss on him through the lowered car window. With what Beth had come to regard as almost a neighborhood tradition, Sara Wilson carried on a simpering flourish of bye-byes and dainty swipes at her long, coal-black hair, then demurely clutched at the expanded bosom of her attractive robe until he was into the street and gone.

Undoubtedly, she'd bought the morning wrap in Los Angeles, Beth reasoned with envy. Certainly, there wasn't anything that chic in San Arbella, to say nothing of the Edgemont Heights shopping center! She tasted from her cup, letting her thoughts return to the male reason for her secret excitement as she moved from the window toward the kitchen. Again, she glanced down at the provocative ensemble she'd chosen for her intended role of seduction, trying to recall the reflection that her vanity mirror had offered.

It was her favorite outfit, but she was growing tired of it. Still, she was satisfied that it showed her legs and ripely curved body off best, and that was the delight of finely knitted material. Black always did things for her anyway -- like most blondes who wore their long hair in a straight, below-the-shoulder fall of casualness and the skirt was more than just a little bit mini. Turtle necked and clinging, the combination not only displayed a racy eyeful of thigh, but made it possible for her to go without a brassiere and yet not appear chippyish. Fortunately, she still had the firm uplift of full rounded breasts to carry off the braless fad with a proud "in" look, though she couldn't remember when she'd last discarded the snugly reassuring garment before that morning. Nor for that matter, she mused, a chill of lewd incitement prickling up her back, could she ever remember wearing a sexy garter-belt and high-thighed hose with a mini, either; but she was that morning, and with the sheerest wisp of black nylon panties she owned shading her most intimate parts!

The rackety-tat-tat of Jay's prolific typewriter coming from his study only helped to underscore her lurid intentions. Even if she didn't need shoes, her naughty little scheme would have taken her into Stan Wilson's "Footwear For The Family" store to try on a new pair, and Jay's erotic writings were responsible. She'd certainly been conscious of their handsome neighbor's existence before her husband had chosen him as a model for his lead character, but it was the satyric lustiness that Jay had fleshed him with that had set the fire warmly glowing inside her loins. Silly though it was, Stan Wilson and Vic Slade of THE LUSTY NEIGHBOR had become one and the same person for her, while she saw herself as Della Stewart, the novel's sensuous and sexually frustrated young wife. As for Sara, Beth could hardly see her in the role of Maggie Slade, the bi-swinging temptress; she was too petite and prissily shy, as if she wouldn't speak at the table if she had a mouthful. But perhaps Jay was right when he insisted that those were the kind who came on like a prairie-fire in bed. She, herself, wouldn't know, though she couldn't help but wonder what Jay would ever do with such a wanton ball of flame if given the opportunity. In the fifteen months of their marriage he'd never once taken her all the way, and damnit, she wasn't that under-sexed, nor given to just lying there waiting for ecstasy to sweep her away...

Oh well, to hell with it! The die had already been cast as far as she was concerned! If there were any regrets, providing her seductive little trap worked, they certainly wouldn't be on her part, the young blonde wife determined, a risque thrill of arousal edging her nerves. She set her empty cup onto the kitchen table, tracing her lush, white-glossed lips with a skilled little finger. For a moment, she listened to the rhythmic typing clatter of her egotistical, near middle-aged husband, the infuriating knowledge that he had unwittingly ensnared her with believable spoofs of security when she was on the rebound of a heartbreaking romance, adding to her fervid sense of non-guilt.

Love him? Yes, oddly enough, she knew that she did in some ridiculous sort of way. But what she had in mind, what had begun as a mere caprice and continued to ferment ever since she'd begun to re-type her spouse's pornographic manuscripts was far removed from that vein of affection. In the beginning, she'd had hope for their marriage, but the sexual frustrations had quickly drained the sap from it, leaving some sort of sterile bond she compared to the feeling she'd had for the uncle and aunt who'd raised her.

Jay Robert Durke was a big man, bearded of late, robust and a shade less than achieving complete failure when she'd met him. Generally, she thought of him as an overgrown child, awesomely equipped genitally, but God knows, heartbreakingly inadequate with all of his blessing. She'd actually met him in the office where she'd clerked and he'd been a once a month calling salesman. Her lover and future husband, who had been winding up his last year at law school, had done the sonofabitch thing... met and married another woman two weeks before!

She'd lived and breathed agony, probably two steps away from shoving her head into the gas oven of her apartment! Jay Durke, drunken lingerie traveler and an unknown week away from being fired, had been a desperately needed pillar to cling to. She had let him sleep with her the very first night and damned near laughed in his face in both mental and sensual chaos at his inexperienced love-making. Still, she'd had hopes, and he did mean security, so she had blindly married him that very week-end in Chicago and climbed aboard a 707 with everything she owned stored in the cargo below.

The dawning had come slowly. He'd found them a rundown apartment in San Arbella, and that's where they had stayed until he started making money and they'd moved to this rented luxury home across the street from the wealthy Stan Wilson. Though they had never completely run out of money, her meatloaf had begun to taste like salted glue before he'd made his connection with "Mr. Ace", proving that he could write, as he'd invariably insisted. From the beginning, after his continual bed fiascoes and the sickening realization that his offered security was little more than sand-castles he, himself, believed, Beth had sneaked off to bed at night when she could, while he worked into the wee hours. In the daytime, he faithfully chased down the "Help Wanted" ads, but their romance which had never existed from the onset as far as she'd been concerned, was rapidly destroying her. She'd been closer to leaving him than she had shoving her head in the oven back in Chicago! Then, he'd sold his first porno book!

All of those grueling midnight hours he'd spent had suddenly taken on meaning for her, but nothing in comparison to the sight of his first check! She'd sat there staring at it in an almost greedily wicked passion, the full meaning of her tearful happiness leading to the utter fizzle that erotic night of love-making should have been. God! she'd inwardly groaned in despair, how long was a girl expected to indulge her natural need with the caresses of her own finger?

Indefinitely, she'd finally concluded, while reveling in the extravagances the self-glorious man showered on her! But as the weeks passed the feeling of security became matter-of-fact, and his impractical spending less consoling. By the time they'd settled on Tasman Drive, Beth knew she had to do something, or hopelessly lose her mind! She was twenty-six years old and he damned near twice that, not an intolerable age difference had they been compatible in bed. But instead, he was destroying the most intimate of her possessions... her sensuality! It was sometime during that period of desperation that she'd offered to do his final typing in one last effort to drown her frustration in his work, and try to save their marriage.

"Hey... this is pretty raw stuff for you, baby," Jay had replied to her offer, a big grin broadening his reddish, hairy face. "Maybe you should read a book or two, first..."

"Oh... come on, Daddy. I'm twenty-six remember? Your little Beth knows all the nasties..."

Oh, but had she been wrong! The vintage of her erotica, she'd quickly discovered, was early teenage... schoolgirl... and at that, a dozen years behind the time! Jay's first two books had enlightened her there, and then some. Maybe he was no fireball in bed, but what he couldn't conceive of with the lust-inciting, written word, had sent her avidly pouring through his following novel, plus the two after that! Whewww! She'd always considered herself a normal, desirous female with basic tendencies, but her forty-six year old husband's pornographic tales had generated unknown fiery tingles of forbidden temptation inside her the likes of which she'd never even dreamed of! She'd even attempted to experiment with some of his wanton females' antics, taking them to bed with her to try on him, but for some reason she'd never, never understand, that had been futile too. He was a paper tiger!

His maddening pattern of inability, in fact, had grown even worse before her increasing, passionate hunger, until the reading and typing of his manuscripts had, like an aphrodisiac, brought her to this very morning! Frightened? Yes, she was that and then some, but just as determined, too...!

"Beth...? How about some hot coffee for your lover-man, baby?"

A grating twinge immediately gnawed at the sexily dressed young wife's belly at her trumpeting husband's summons. Lover-man, she repeated in mockery under her breath. He'd been that the night before, too! As usual, he'd driven her almost to the peak of the mountain, then left her there to get over the top by herself, or slide back down, whichever she preferred. He'd been too drunk to know how she'd managed it, but she had and by stealing a page from one of his salacious volumes, while he'd snored like a disgusting, satiated ox beside her... It was right then that she'd definitely made up her mind...!

"Beth?" he shouted again, louder this time.

"Yes... I heard you, Jay. It's coming," she returned, carefully keeping the irritation from her tone, and it wasn't too difficult. With the morning sunshine, she realized that she had again slept away the frustrated anger. That, along with the sensuous intentions she'd set her pruriently fevered mind to in luring her handsome neighbor into an affair, left small room for wasted resentment.

Still, she couldn't help but recall with little fiery ripples of lust how close Jay had come to doing it for her the night before! They both had plenty to drink, he, twice as much as she, of course, and that had been her fault. She'd fed them to him with purpose, operating on another theory which he repeatedly had used in his novels... the staying power of the well-liquored male. God, if there was any truth in it -- she had excitedly thought as she skipped around in her see-through nightie to make him drinks before curling up beside him on the couch and letting him lustfully run his big, hot hands over her nearly naked, erogenous curves -- he should wind up a human dynamo! She'd gotten him drunk, amazed as always by his alcoholic capacity, and just as astonished at his unbelievable recuperative ability, such as this very morning. She doubted if he even knew the meaning of the word "hangover".

He had been panting, animalish, and staggering when they'd made it to the bedroom for the final course. Smoldering, she'd whipped her nightie over her head, bouncing nakedly onto the bed into a lewd, thigh-spread position like a child playing "statue", except she'd been a very hot young wife with no intentions of taking an immobile part in the game! "Christ, baby, you're a voluptuous doll to look at!" he'd thick-tongued in a hoarse voice, pulling at his clothes while she laid there watching him.

Sure, he was getting soft with age and noticeably paunchy with an overhang of spare-tire around the middle, but the long, thick hardness of his lust-swollen penis standing out from his strong, hairy loins immediately dwarfed all else. Trembling sensations of shameless desire had shivered over her exciting nakedness, her craving eyes riveted on his large, sperm-bloated testicles heavily swaying between his legs. God, how desperately she had hoped...!

Suddenly, he'd been on top of her, kissing her with drunken passion, nibbling at the hardened pink nipples of her swollen breasts, running his big, searing hands over her wetly throbbing pussy, while his cock throbbed against the sensitive flesh of her thigh. He'd muttered and panted to her sensual writhings beneath him, choking out obscene, stimulating words and phrases of love that had fervidly goaded her to a point of whorish lust. God, she'd suck him if he'd let her! But no... no, not first! He had to... had to make her cum at least once before anything else, and she wanted to do nothing that might destroy that possibility!

He drunkenly crawled between her eagerly trembling thighs which she'd anxiously spread wide for him. "I'm going to fuck you right out of your mind, lady!" he'd lewdly promised, using the four-letter tools of his trade that she wanted to hear. Their graphic sounds fired her with wild chills of intensive passion. "Put it in, baby! Stuff it in your hot little cunt-hole!"

She'd been that certain of the "at last" moment when she'd reached down and grasped the heated length of his solid, thick cock to splay open the moistened lips of her hungrily throbbing vagina, placing its fleshy head at the mouth of her cunt. Impatiently, she'd spread her legs even further as she raised her steaming loins up to him, confident that this time his fantastic spear of hardness was going to do it for her, and not caring how hard he plunged that first time!

He had! His huge, hotly throbbing cock had raced into the liquid reception of her wanting pussy-channel like a challenging knight with huge lance in jousting charge, filling the dilated core of her seething young body with an enchantment of fury. Yes... yes, this time! It would happen this time, she'd feverishly reasoned, straining beneath this powerful man, her husband, in sluttish abandon!

His raging cock had wildly pounded in and out of the tight, pink opening up between her legs, while he grunted and spewed deliciously foul words and phrases down at her, each and every one inciting her all the more.

"Oh, oh, Jay lover...! It's beautiful! Yessss! Fuck me out of my mind... like you promised!"

"Yehhhh... right out of your cunt-boggled mind, baby!" he'd gasped. "Your lover-man's layin' it in there, ain't he? Filling your hot belly with a yard of fat cock, eh eh?"

"Oooo yes, darling yesss! A-And I'm going... going to suck it for you... make it cum right in my mouth!" she'd obscenely hissed up at him, realizing now that her lewd promise had been her first mistake because he had gone out of his mind in excitement.

She'd felt the tremble of muscular tension ripple over his big heavy body above her. "Goddamn!" he'd blurted. "And... and you mean it, too, don't you, kitten! S-Suck me off...! Shit...! Get ready, honey, big daddy's gonna blow 'em! Oh Christ..."

And he had, his cock had raced into her frantically churning pussy and began to spew its life-draining, masculine semen into her. With bitter frustration, she'd dug her nails into his naked ribs, his arms, his shoulders!

"Oh no... nnooo, Jay, pleaseee?" she'd begged, even knowing it was useless as she thrust her wetly pulsating loins up at him to accept his warmth puddling into her belly.

Until finally, there'd been nothing but the rolling of his huge, passed-out frame off of her, the wild burning hunger aflame in her loins and belly nearly driving her to tears! She wasn't about to try and haul him up onto the pillow; in fact, he could have died right there and she would have probably celebrated! The bastard! The drunken, selfish bastard! Oohhhh... and she'd been so hot... hooottt!

She'd remembered, then, his very own words from the written page luridly streaming through her mind! The identical situation... and without hesitation, she'd sat up, taken Jay's limp hand to place his thick fingers the way she wanted them, and then wormed two of them up into her hotly seething vagina. She locked her naked thighs to hold his fingers in place while she obscenely squirmed and writhed her naked loins onto their semi-limpness, at the same time fingering her tiny, sensitively erect clitoris. In the interim of building climax, she'd lustfully fondled his long flaccid cock and played with his emptied balls, but all of it together as she remembered it now, had hardly been a night of love... anything but the erotic scene she'd enthusiastically imagined...!

"Beth, what about that coffee?"

"Coming... right now," she called back, satisfied that all was on the tray she carried, except her own cup. This, he noticed immediately when she set it on his desk.

"You're not having any, baby?" he questioned, looking up at her with those watery gray eyes that too much Scotch had tattooed with a crimson fringe. He smiled in part, his teeth and lips showing with contrasting white and red through the mow of graying whiskers covering his broad face. Shades of the poor-man's Hemingway, she derisively thought.

"No. I'm going down to the center to do some shopping," she casually replied, examining with feigned interest the work he had ready for her.

"Say... you look sharp, doll... real sexy!" he said, swiveling his chair around to better ogle her. "Now that's my gal! Look at those gams! Christ!"

She smiled to his compliment. "Is there anything you'd like before I leave?"

"Hmmmm, maybe... A fifteen minute taste of you might fire the day's production to no Goddamned end!"

The urge to ask him what he intended to do with the last ten of them, Beth forced herself to put to one side. Instead, she poured his coffee, adding two lumps of sugar. Some fresh air... that's what she needed... amongst other things...

"Where the hell did you get that outfit? I never saw it before, did I?"

She swallowed. Mustn't screw up. "Not since last Thursday or so," she replied, portraying the wifely expression of pleasure at his noticing her. "I bought it the week before I met you."

"Yeah...?" He shook his big head in amazement. "That's a real mini, all right. But you can wear 'em, baby! Come here and give your lover-man a little kiss."

Beth did, smiling. As raucous, lewd, drunken, and self-inflated as he was, there was something about him that could trigger her! Maybe it was his beard, soft and fuzzy when it tickled her cheeks. How would she react to it taunting her inner thighs, like Myra in THE SATANIC MONK...?

"Mmmmmm, honey-dipped lips," he sighed, reaching around to smooth his big hand over the rounded swell of her buttocks.

"Down, rover," Beth gently countered, backing out of his reach, knowing his next move was to ease up in under her tiny skirt, and she certainly didn't want him to learn what she wasn't wearing there! "Can I get you anything before I go?"

He slurped at his coffee, setting the cup down with a clatter of cheap earthen-ware. "As a matter of fact, I think I'll go with you, doll. I need a hair-trim and I can get that while you're doing your thing. What're you shopping for, anyway?"

Beth tensed as she reached down for one of his cigarettes, anger needling her. He sat watching and waiting, making no effort to offer her a light. She scooped up his desk lighter and did it herself, irately wondering what the hell it was that kept her from climbing onto a bus for Chicago!

"Groceries and shoes," she snapped with an exhale of smoke, struggling to keep the ire from her voice. "I-I need a pair... or else a bale of cardboard to slip into those I'm wearing!" she uncontrollably added.

Though she wasn't looking directly at him, his curvaceous long-haired young wife saw his face squinch into a hurt grimace. She walked around his desk toward the window, keeping her back to him, immediately sorry she had said it. Damn, it was those pained expressions he could get in his pitiable eyes which made her melt inside.

"Hey, honey... what's this bit? Y-You know you can have anything you want, don't you? We've got it now... money in the bank... whatever you need to make you happy. Come on, don't twist Daddy's testes like that? Just name it, doll, and it's yours!"

"A-All I want is a pair of shoes, Jay... and I'm not even sure I can find them in the center," she calmly managed, gazing idly through the window as she smoked. "I-I thought I'd stop in at Stan Wilson's..."

"Okay, let's give it a shot, hon! I could use a pair of kicks, myself!" He bounded up from his chair. "This little gem can spare me the morning. Come on, baby! Lover-man's going to take you shopping! Goddamnit, you're going to have all the shoes you can carry home...!"


Beth couldn't remember when she'd been more uptight, unless it was at her junior prom when her aunt had been chaperone-in-charge, and she'd dated a senior with a reputation of being the coolest, swingingest guy in school! He'd had to drive her home in his father's car with her aunt in the back seat, and the entire way Beth had breathlessly tried to restrain his hot, young hand secretly smoothing up and down her trembling inner thigh for fear Aunt Zelda would get wise and lay an egg right there! And that had been that! He'd never asked her out again! Somehow, this seemed like a repeat performance of that disastrous night!

At the moment, her doting husband, in the most unconventional garb his blatant taste could imagine, was guiding her along the walkways of Edgemont Heights shopping center. Not that there were any fashion-plates in the area, and not that she gave a damn what other people thought, but a pith-helmet, shooting jacket, and bedroom slippers...? And worse, he was sure as the devil about to louse up her vampish little scheme! He had all intentions of accompanying her into Stan Wilson's store and trying on shoes, boots, whatever it was, dumping his big frame right in the seat beside her, and how could she do one damned thing?

Blast it! If only there was some other way of getting to know their neighbors better... at a party, perhaps... She felt certain she could manage it all nicely from there. Last Sunday, in her white, skin-tight shorts and a tiny halter, she'd purposely gone out to putter around the yard, work which she wouldn't even consider if Sara Wilson hadn't set the pace, and knowing that Jay ogled the vivacious brunette in her usual bikini as if she were an exotic dancer. At first, Beth hadn't been sure the handsome Mr. Wilson was seeing her out there doing her exaggerated stoopings and squattings, antics that bordered on the obscene, but she had finally glanced up to catch him watching her from a bedroom window. He'd smiled and waved, and for two days she'd lived on that...

"Here we are, baby," Jay gratingly crunched her thoughts, leading her into Wilson's Shoe Salon. "Have at it, hon! Just turn yourself loose. Your lover-man feels like indulging you!"

Beth moved away from him, tripping silently along the strip of carpeting in front of the empty chairs. Indulging you, she inwardly repeated, incensed. More of his jargon shit! Damn, she could throttle him for tagging along with her! She casually looked around, working to keep her rage from showing. At least, the store was empty of customers... clerks too, for that matter. And that pleased her. She'd planned to ask for Mr. Wilson anyway; that is, before her lover-man decided to escort her...

Her blood-pressure quickened when with a handsome smile, the thirtyish, tall and broad shouldered Wilson himself appeared from the back room. Little twinges of lurid excitement immediately stirred in the depths of her belly at the way he carried himself; but there was something else in her belly -- an apprehensive knot forming there too. God... she could never go through with it, even if Jay wasn't with her! Imagining such lurid scenes was one thing, but when it came right down to the nitty-gritty...?

"Well, hello neighbors! Nice to see you! Won't you have a seat and let's see if we can help you?" Stan Wilson suavely beamed, dollar-bill signs almost clicking in his eyeballs, Beth thought, but she hardly cared. Lord, he was handsome! "Who can we make happy?"

"The little wife, Stan," she heard her boisterous husband say, using their neighbor's first name as if they'd known him for years, and adding a gruff little laugh. "Poor kid needs some foot-wear... and why not, on the end of those legs, eh?"

Beth cringed with embarrassment as Stan drew up his stool, still smiling toward her husband, an obvious starchiness in the expression. Oh, why didn't that asshole keep his big, blowhard mouth shut? She crossed her legs, presenting her right foot.

"What did you have in mind, milady?" her gentlemanly neighbor softly questioned, gazing up at her with deep, dark eyes, the trace of a smile flickering about his attractive mouth, as with seemingly super-sensitive hands, he removed her shoe.

"Oh... something in a sandal, maybe. Black and with platform heel... though I'm not sure," she quickly added, reluctant to discard her original baiting temptation, and the longer she sat there trying on shoes, perhaps...

"Aahh... we have a sharp new sandal that's all the rage this season, Mrs. Durke," he said, agilely swinging up and away.

"Come on now, Stan, you guys should call us by first name, seeing we're neighbors, right?" Jay mouthed after him. "She's Beth and I'm Jay. You're Stan and your wife's name's Sara, isn't it?"

"Yes... that's right. Sara and Stan."

"So...? Seeing we live right across the street from each other, let's get better acquainted?" the nearly exasperated young wife's middle-aged husband continued, winking at her. "First names from now on, right?"

"Why not?" Stan Wilson coolly answered, pulling boxes from tiers.

"You're a shop keeper and I'm an author," Jay said, his choice of titles mortifying Beth. "... Or maybe you didn't know that," her husband grinningly went on as their neighbor returned to seat himself on the stool. "Did you?"

"I... ah... never gave it much thought, to tell you the truth," the wavy haired, handsome man almost icily replied, taking the shoe from its box.

"I understand. You got your daily grind... not much time to think about what other people do. I know what it is. I was in the old selling game myself for awhile... grueling contest. But those days are gone, now... just the creative art when the spirit moves me. Beth, here, does all my final work for me, when I'm not chasing her around the desk... if you get what I mean, Stan..."

She wanted to kill him right there! Dumping a shovelful of white-hot coals into his lying mouth would have served the purpose, Beth thought, utter rage shamefully scathing her insides. Goddamn him, she tremblingly seethed, intentionally uncrossing her nylon-sheathed legs to let their neighbor fit her foot into the shoe!

"H-How... How's that feel?" the dark-eyed shoe salesman stammered, letting her know that he'd caught his first glimpse of what she'd originally come prepared to show him.

"Hmmmmm..." She gained her feet, taking several observing steps on the carpet. They were absolutely ugly! But that had nothing to do with it. He'd looked right up between her legs for a brief moment, and she well knew what he could see through the snug fit of those sheer, nylon panties! Her pubic curls... the very crevice of her pink-fleshed pussy, itself...! "No... no, I don't think so. These aren't what I had in mind..."

"We have many more sandals, Mrs. -- Beth," he lumpishly got out, his beautiful Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "S-Shall we try on a few?"

"Sure, give 'em all the once over, baby," Jay butted in. "Hell, might better throw our business to old Stan here, than take it to L.A., right?" He leaned back, lighting a cigar. "Fella's got to sweat today to make it, eh Stan?"

Ignoring her coarse husband, Wilson said in a tone that trembled enough for her to feel its sensuous vibrations: "Let's try this one, Beth...?"

The alluringly dressed young wife tossed her long blonde hair in a characteristic gesture, then swept it back over her shoulders. The act, she was well aware, had made her braless, ripely full breasts ripple in provocative freedom. She was hardly conscious of her husband's presence, and could barely contain the smile she felt tugging at her wetly parted lips at her handsome neighbor's visible uneasiness. It registered that he must enjoy many sensual panoramas from his strategic position, and she was suddenly determined that none would be more equal to the bird's-eye view than that she would shortly offer him!

At the moment, while his perceptive hands were skillfully removing and replacing the shoe, her eyes were drawn to the short, black masculine hair lightly enshadowing their backs, a sensory shiver dancing up her spine. She leaned forward then, supposedly observing the sandal, coyly spreading her thighs, but not without a certain gracefulness.

"Mmmmm... I think I like this better... but the heel isn't exactly what I wanted," she said, pretending to study it, but from the corner of her eye she saw the lusty gleam leap into his deep, dark ones as they flitted back and forth, overly lingering each time they focused up between her legs.

"That's a damn good looking shoe on you, baby," Jay commented, hanging a stenchy cloud of thick smoke over them with his puffings. "Not every doll could show it off like you, right Stan?"

"T-True," their handsome neighbor stammered, dragging his eyes from her to briefly glance at her stretched out husband. She almost heard his eyeballs snapping back, then he lowered his head as if studying the fit, his gentle fingers feeling around her instep, but Beth wasn't fooled. While his broad brow hid the recess of his eyes, she knew he was straining them damned near out of their sockets to feast on the luring, nylon-misted revelation of her most intimate secret. "W-Would you like to try on the other... Beth?"

"Oooohh... yes, I think so."

He fumbled, dropped, retrieved and managed. Almost pathetically, he looked up then to catch her suggestive little smile of understanding. She stood, moving around him to pace the carpet.

"They look great, hon," Jay said. "You like 'em?"

"Yes... I think so, but this one you just put on seems to have something sticking up into my foot," the voluptuous blonde wife lied, re-seating herself. One more little fleeting peek for him, and the next move was his.

"Ooohh...? Well, let's have a look at that," Stan eagerly replied, dropping to his knees to remove it, but with head definitely bowed, almost as if he couldn't weather another dose of her voluptuously presented charms.

Beth was delighted! She'd reached him, all right! In fact, she'd wager that the slight bulge in the front of his trousers he was uncomfortably trying to conceal wasn't perpetual. She watched him smooth his hand over the insole, slowly rising from his kneeling position and saying something about "when they came off the last...".

"Easily taken care of, Mrs. -- Beth... if you like them," he unsteadily faltered, his avid dark eyes devouring her.

Damn, she sure had reached him, and in grand style! "Yes... I think I'll take them, if you can do something about that... whatever it is?"

"Of course... yes... well, it won't take a minute," he went on, his handsome face and eyes caught up in an expression of complete confusion. "I-I just have to put it on the workbench I have in back and give it a few taps... Y-You can watch if you like..."

"Just take your time, Stan. We're in no hurry," Jay voiced through a haze of smelly cigar smoke. "I think I want some boots, myself. Hey, where are they? I can be looking while you're fixing that?"

"Th-That row right over there," the shaken store-owner nervously pointed as her big, bearded husband lumbered across toward it.

"This one?"

"Yes, that's it... go right ahead. The sizes are on the box-fronts. H-Have a look at the styles while we give this a tap... W-Would you like to watch, Beth?" he repeated.

"May I?" she questioned, looking him straight in his perplexed, burning dark-eyes.

"O-of course. Come along... it's back here!" he finally got out, his nearly tremoring voice cracking twice. "It shouldn't take a minute, Mr... Jay..."

"That's okay, no hurry. I'll just paw through these boots," Beth heard her husband say, while intensive, if timorous, excitement gripped her as the dividing curtain swept closed behind her and Stan Wilson dropped the shoe onto the little bench, turning to face her.

"T-There's nothing wrong with that shoe!" he hissed, his breathing short and raspy as he stared at her.

"I-I know..." Beth whispered, moving toward him, so tight inside she thought something was surely going to burst! Everything that her middle-aged husband had ever written concerning promiscuous wives made itself available like a sensual reference library in her erotically determined brain! She raised her arms with obvious intent, letting her fingers pressure against his broad shoulders, then mindlessly ease around his neck, while he stood as if immobilized into a helpless numbness. "I-I know...!" she huskily repeated.

"J-Jesus Christ!" he choked, his strong arm wrapping around her slender waist and drawing her tightly against him, his handsome mouth hungrily finding her warm, tongue-moistened lips in an ardent soul kiss! She let her own little tongue wetly greet his, her incited brain reeling as she enveloped him with the resilient fullness of her breasts, soft belly and hot thighs, urging the erogenous swell of her yielding fleshy mound against the lengthy bulge of his thickly aroused hardness. The passionate sensation of its solid, masculine feel whipped her breath away!

"Y-You beautiful witch!" he hoarsely panted, smoothing his big hands lustfully over the rounded swell of her buttocks. "Y... you were showing it to me out there... wearing those tiny little panties... Christ! You were, weren't you... weren't you?"

"Y-Yes...! D-Did you like what you saw?"

"Goddamn... I loved it! When... where?" his words were hot, gasping breaths against her face, the heat of his strong, sensitive hands penetrating through the knit of her tiny skirt to the tensed ovals of her rounded buttocks! It'd gone just as she'd conceived it... her bit of lewd exhibitionism... but now, what? God, this was no time to get panicky, or suddenly have second thoughts! Yet...?

"Well...?" he insisted. "When, honey... and where?"

"Oohhh... I-I don't know!" she tremulously whispered. "But... but I want to, darling...!"

"Damn... you mean it, too, don't you?" he croaked, his breathing filling the cluttered little room with short, sizzling sounds.

For answer, Beth uncontrollably pressured even tighter to him, almost imperceptibly undulating her desire-filled, soft belly, loins and thighs with suggestive fervency against his hardened, rhythmically throbbing penis. A scene from one of Jay's mate-swapping years raced through the archives of her sensually intoxicated mind, and like the young wife in the story who was desperately trying to seduce her reluctant neighbor, she passionately kissed him on the lips, then began to tickle the end of his handsome nose with the tip of her hot, wet little tongue.

"Uummgghh..." he huskily groaned, his heated hands stroking downward to the backs of her nyloned thighs, then up in under her tiny skirt to tease the smooth flesh above her stockings, and finally to caress and cup the rounded fullness of her flimsily covered buttocks! His wetly fevered mouth smothered her own as she sensually returned as much as he gave, eagerly lashing tongues with him, while his finger tips descended, tracing the deep crevice separating the tensed mounds of her ovalled, near-naked buttocks. Then, one outstretched thick finger was worming its way between her trembling, full thighs from behind, the erotic sensation causing her to gasp out! Suddenly, through her panties, she felt its wanted hot pressure against the desire-dampened mouth of her vagina, and an electric current rippled through her as it tried to wriggle inside the moistened, narrow crotchband.

"No... no, darling, not here!" the hotly aroused young wife whispered, locking her strong, full thighs like a fleshy vise over his probing hand to hamper his frantic operation. "Please... it's too dangerous with him right out there!" she insisted, her sultry green eyes searching his while she reached behind her and gently disengaged his lewdly exploring fingers. Then, pressing the hardened tips of her proud young breasts against his chest, she reached beyond him to the little bench, picking up the flat-nosed hammer and banging it three times against the bench top.

"Wh-What the hell are you doing?" her shuddering neighbor rattled with a start.

"Making the necessary sounds... remember, love? You're supposed to be repairing a shoe?"

"Y-Yeah... Christ, yes... I forgot he was even out there! Goddamn! You're something else, girl... blow a man's mind..."

"Please... don't tease me...?"

"Tease you? Holy Christ! Who's teasing whom?" he hotly questioned, trying to draw her back tight to him, while she wedged her hands against his athletic chest as a buffer. "I-If he wasn't out there, I'd... I'd..."

"You'd what?" she excitedly pressed, wanting to hear him say it.

"Damn it, you know what I'd do!"

"You'd fuck me right here!" the intensively fired Beth lewdly finished for him in an intimate whisper, the four letter word never sounding more exciting to her, or to him, as it obscenely tumbled from her lush lips at that moment. "I-Is that what you were going to say, Stan?"

"Goddamn! You... you luscious creature!" he cawed, his lust-inflamed dark eyes reflecting the depth of the jolt her use of the graphic word had triggered inside him. He gushed a hot draft of breath against her face, his eyes gleaming with a frenzy. "When, Beth? Tonight? Can you get out...?"

"Whoa, darling... not so fast," Beth reflexively countered, something in the nature of apprehension clutching at her within. She took the decorative handkerchief from his breast pocket to dab away the smear her lightly tinted lip gloss had left on his mouth. It was a subterfuge, a stall for time, her mind racing in a melee of confusion. "B-Better not let Sara see this hanky," she said, tucking it back into his pocket.

"What... what about tonight? A friend of mine owns a motel a few miles out of town! There won't be any problems..."

"What about Sara?" she interrupted, in God's name, never knowing why, unless that was a woman's natural reaction and subconsciously placing herself in the position of his vivacious, raven-haired young wife.

He stared at her open-mouthed, part of the expression on his handsome face and in his tormented eyes enough to make her want to climb right up on the little bench for him! Oohhh... she was really so hot it was a wonder that her tiny, thin panties didn't disintegrate! Maybe they had! Still, she couldn't deny the forces, whatever their source, that were restraining her, and they certainly never appeared in Jay's themes!

"What the hell! Forget Sara! She's got nothing to do with this... with you and me! Look, can you make it tonight...?"

Before he could, finish or she answer, Jay's harsh voice came to them! "Hey! What're you doing back there, remaking that shoe, you guys? Come out and take a look at these boots, doll!"

"How about it? Tonight?" Stan Wilson pressed in an urgent whisper.

"N-No... I can't, tonight! Besides... we have to think of your wife, and... and my husband... at least, a little bit!" Beth defensively answered hardly knowing what she meant by her words.

"Think of them...? Christ, girl, what's with you, anyway?"

"Ooohhh... I-I shouldn't have let you..."

"The hell with that shit! W-What are you, anyway... a Goddamn cocktease?" he spat at her. "You come tripping in here with your husband, practically nothing on beneath that frigging skirt, show me your cunt like you're waving a flag, then suddenly give me that old 'your beautiful wife' routine! What the hell's with you, Mrs. Durke? You have problems in bed with that talented artist out there, or something...?"

The venom in his cutting words burned into the young blonde wife like eating acid, and she backed away from him with tears brimming up into her big, round eyes! God, what'd happened? It had all been flowing so beautifully! Just the way she'd envisioned it! Ooohhh... she'd truly blown it... blown it! And now, what...?

She dropped her head and he said: "Damnit, look, honey, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it... honest! You're just too much, is all..."

"Hey! You characters coming out here, or should I go out for coffee, maybe?" Jay's voice reached her, a tone of up-tightness barbing it.

Beth moved forward, quickly picking up and slipping on the new sandal. She daintily wiped at her eyes as Stan said: "Look, I'm sorry! Please...? Tonight. We can straighten all of this nonsense out, Beth! I promise...!"

The voluptuous, long-haired blonde wife didn't look at him. She knew if she did she'd probably meet him in an alley if that's what he wanted! God, she'd never been any hotter, or closer to spreading her legs, in her life! Instead, she said: "No... I can't, Stan. Let's just think about it. Maybe... maybe, we both made a mistake...!"

"Shit! Listen... wait a second, baby! Oh Christ...!" Beth heard him choke behind her as she brushed the curtain to one side and walked out into the front of his store, every inch of her alive with sensual excitement.

"There, it's all right now, Jay darling! Mr. Wilson fixed it beautifully!"

"Aawww, come on, baby... not Mr. Wilson," her cigar-chewing husband reminded. "Stan... remember? We're neighbors, eh? And... how do you like these boots on me...?"


Beth Ann Durke couldn't be any less conscious of the male eyes appraising her enhanced young curves as she, accompanied by her outlandishly dressed husband, treaded the familiar sidewalks of the Edgemont Heights shopping center. His whispering dispatches that this "punk" and that "bastard" had just undressed her, dribbled off the voluptuous blonde wife like water off the proverbial duck's back. She had just over-played her starring role, then upstaged her own self in the manner of a Miss Do-Good from a B movie! In short, she'd absolutely muffed it... needling him with Sara, then slipping into the offended other-woman part before she'd even been cast!

God, how stupid could one get? Pretty bad, she inwardly seethed, sick at the thought of having him, that gorgeous hunk of man, right in her eagerly yearning, little hands, then frittering away her hold through girlish ridiculousness. Damn, she'd never intended they be any more than lovers, an affair, an experience! "When Beth? Tonight? Can you get out...?" he'd panted, his breathing a masculine, lusty blowtorch against her face. "Whoa, darling... not so fast...!" she'd childishly answered... and God, why, she'd never, never know...!

"You dig the boots, baby?" Jay's raucous voice interrupted.

"I-I guess so."

"Wilson was wearin' a pair of suede jobs, but they're Goddamned sweet for me. Fruit boots, you know," he said, his ludicrous inference not even meriting a reply from her. "You know, he seems to be an all right guy? We'll have to get better acquainted with 'em... like that Vickie Davis next door to us. I see her and Sara talking a lot, and she just walks right into the Wilson's as if she owned the place."

"Does she? I never noticed," Beth replied, preoccupied and barely with their conversation.

"Sure... she and that German Shepherd dog of hers... What's its name?"


"Yeah, Lancer." He wagged his bearded-faced head as he lumbered along beside her. "Beautiful dog, but town's no place for an animal like that. Should be on a ranch or farm where it can get out and run... exercise, you know?"

"I suppose," she idly answered.

"But, I guess she keeps him for protection, living alone and all. That's a funny thing, too, a model like her with no male around, at least, once in awhile. You think maybe she's lez, doll?"

"Frankly, I never thought about it."

"Well I have," he said with a snigger, holding onto his young wife's arm in true claiming fashion. "Something's smelly there... all by herself... just her dog... You get it, baby? Just her and that Goddamned brute of an animal...?"

"You've got a dirty mind, Jay Durke," Beth retaliated, not trying to hide her disgust. God, why didn't he just go off somewhere so she could brood in peace?

"Yeah, a dirty old gold-mine!" he punned, nudging at her ribs with his hand holding onto her arm. "How'd you like that one, doll?"

She said nothing, not even daring to look in his direction for fear she would blow her top right there on the street. Then, thanks be to the powers, he stopped in front of the barber shop and said: "This is as far as I go with you, baby? Going to get handsome for you. Where you off to now?"

"The supermarket," she answered, elated that he was about to unhand and separate from her for a few hours.

"Okay. You take the Caddy home. I'll walk. It's only ten minutes and I need the exercise... sitting at that desk all day."

"You could take a cab..."

"No, I'll walk. It won't hurt me," he said, grinning and leaning toward her for a kiss.

Beth did, knowing that she was doing untold things for his ego right in front of his favorite bragging grounds. But it was the last lewd pat on her buttocks right there on the street that set the readied rancor to bubbling inside her! Damn! What a slob he could be...

"See you, babe."

"Bye!" she snapped, whipping away, her mind becoming an immediate well of Stan Wilson, and thankfully so.

Even as she shopped, she could concentrate on little else but her handsome neighbor and the way she had stupidly bungled the whole thing. Of course, she could have gotten out tonight, or any other night! Jay never questioned her in that respect, whatever story she came up with, and most times it was just to get a break away from him and take in a movie, or a quiet relieving walk. Damn... was it too late? She could go back alone now, eat a little crow and set it up for tonight! God knows, she was still that sensually excited... but no! No, she wasn't about to eat crow for any man! If... if only she could cool down a little! She was actually wet, wet between her legs, and no one but Stan Wilson had done that! But damnit, she wasn't about to eat crow for him! Never...!

Oh, where were the damned pickles...?

The sexually flustered young wife's entire grocery shopping excursion was marred by similar incidents. She couldn't concentrate, and finally in dismay, had called a halt, knowing she'd forgotten half the items on the list she'd made out and left on the kitchen table.

At one point, while retrieving a box of soap powder from a lower shelf, she had half-glanced behind her to see an older man pushing a cart full of groceries pause to observe the spectacle she was thoughtlessly offering him in her bent-over position. Though she had immediately straightened and turned to glare at him, his elderly, lecherous smirk as he pushed on only seemed to add unneeded fuel to the already glowing bed of coals smoldering in the hot, fluid hearth of her body. The male clerks, the homely, balding assistant manager, even the young carry-out boy, Jerry Adams, who lived in their block on Tasmen Drive, all were doing their unintentional share in provoking her private passion.

Lord, it was absolutely absurd to work one's self into such a lewd state. Yet, there was something erotically exciting about it, too... being caught up in such a lascivious mood right out in public... before God and everyone, and in broad daylight, she lightly mused, leading the way to where the Caddy was parked. And the manner in which she was unnecessarily switching her rounded hips for the young carry-out boy's benefit was hardly kosher either. She could tell after she'd bent down to open the car's trunk-door that his youthfully bugging blue eyes had briefly fed on the unexpected, engaging sight. His good looking teenage mouth was agape, his smooth, fair cheeks a flushed crimson.

Of course, she couldn't help but recall a sequence from one of Jay's novels in which a lecherous young wife had seduced a neighbor-boy in oral sex. At the same time, she'd thought the scene not only disgustingly obscene, but extremely impossible. What normal woman in her right mind would ever set out to lure a boy when she could have a man...?

"Thank you, Jerry," she warmly smiled at him as he opened the door and she slid in under the steering wheel, making no effort to hide her exposed nylon-covered thighs with their tiny garter-belt frills peekingly visible. She'd tipped him then, still smiling as he backed off with his handsome young face blushingly afire, offering her a little wave.

Damn, he was a sweet, young dream, the infused blonde wife reflected most of the way home. Some lucky girl either was, or was going to be made mighty happy with that gallant little darling crawling between her legs! Lord... if she didn't stop thinking this way she was going to be a mess of frayed nerves before the day was over! And it was her own fault, too! Her bewitching little scheme had worked perfectly with Stan... then, she'd had to goof it! Damn... damn! What she needed was a drink!

After lugging in the groceries and dumping them on the kitchen table, Beth made straight-away for the liquor cabinet and a gin-tonic. With this fortification, she returned to put meat and perishables in the refrigerator, then drained her glass to make room for a second.

Just how the devil was she going to manage another such situation with her impassioned desire of the moment, Stan Wilson? Or should she leave it for him to make the next move? Of course, that was the proper approach... if you could use the term proper in conjunction with adultery! The truth of the matter was that she'd turned chicken! No denying it, she had...!

"Which comes right down to one thing, Lady Beth!" she said aloud to herself, "you're not the wanton whore that you pretend to yourself... though if anyone knew the way you're boiling inside they'd never guess it! What you need is a cool bath to calm the fires before the genius comes home and you find yourself enticing him into bed for a repeat performance of last night! On second thought, better that you do it yourself and eliminate the middle man...!"

A tiny ripple of excitement added a new emotional arousal of the sizzling agitation already stewing in her soft belly and hot, moistened loins. Determined, she attacked the liquor cabinet a third time, carrying a gin-tonic to the bedroom where she quickly stripped naked.

In the adjoining bath she wound her long blonde hair into a top-knot, and started to draw water as she sipped at her drink, the gin beginning to effectively warm her. Her sultry green eyes glancing at her white nakedness reflected in the full length mirror and glimmered narcissistically as a tiny rippling sensation of pleasure flittered through her voluptuous, twenty-six year old body. For a moment, she stood unmoving, admiring her sensually harmonious curves, her full, pink-nippled breasts and slender waist, the sweeping flow of her arched hips into the long, white columns of her smooth, rounded thighs and tapering calves.

Stan Wilson, baby, wouldn't you love to see what I'm looking at right now? Nothing short of an erotically pleasing sight, I'd say.

She let her eyes sensually caress the secret ivory-like outline that her swim-suit halter had left across the resilient mounds of her uptilted, full young breasts, and below where her tiny bikini had cupped the curved moons of her satiny firm buttocks. But it was the milky-white of her generous hips and lower belly where the silken triangle of sparse, golden curls began to sprinkle over her vaginal mound that invariably fired her excitement.

God, would she do it first, right there in front of the mirror... or in the bathtub... or after on the bed...?

The harsh sound of the service-door buzzer startled her. Now, who the devil could that be? Irritably, she looked for something to put around her, finally settling on her husband's terry-cloth, swim jacket. Though a jacket for him, it was a good three-quarters length on her, covering enough that she could peek around the door and see what whoever it was wanted. She rolled back the sleeves into huge cuffs as she walked into the kitchen inching open the service door to look into the fair-haired young face of Jerry Adams. A stimulating little tingle raced through her at the recognition of his clean, youthful smile.

"Mrs. Durke... you forgot and left this on the counter in the market," he said, holding out her wallet to her. "It's got quite a bit of money in it, so Mr. Sheppherd wanted me to bring it right over."

For a moment, Beth stared at it in surprise wondering how in the world she could ever have done such a stupid thing? But undoubtedly, she had, for it was the hand-tooled, snake-skin one that Jay had bought her in Mexico.

"Good Lord, and I hadn't even missed it! Oh me... just how inefficient can a girl get, Jerry?"

He laughed, then said: "Maybe you better count the money, Mrs. Durke to be sure it's all there."

"I'm certain it is, dear... and it was so thoughtful of you to bring it right over," the blonde wife said, her brain beginning to function along a once believed extremely impossible vein! "Here, I must reward you for..."

"No! No, really, Mrs. Durke! We're not allowed to take rewards for such things!" he said, holding up his hand and backing away.

"Why... why that's ridiculous, Jerry! Besides, no one has to know...!" she insisted, leafing out a bill as he continued to wag his head and smile.

"Gee thanks, Mrs. Durke... but I can't take it," he repeated, shaking his young, handsome head.

"Well... well at least, you can come in and have a Coke or something," she said, stepping to one side as she opened the door wide for him. "Come on, I'm not going to take no for an answer on that offer."

"A-All right... I could sure use it. Boy, it's hot in that sun," he said, passing close to her, his arm lightly brushing the tip of one sensitive breast behind the white, fuzzy material covering her, raising a sparkling little ripple in her soft belly. In response, the young blonde wife pulled the hardly adequate jacket of her husband tighter around her aroused nakedness, smiling at him as he timidly looked at her. His face was flushing as it had in the parking lot of the market. He'd noticed the soft erotic contact, too!

She offered him a chair as she moved toward the refrigerator, but he didn't sit. God, she felt certain his pale blue eyes were avidly traveling the length of her near-naked body, imagining beyond the single garment, wondering what, if anything, she wore beneath it. Or... or was she letting her overly keyed-up imagination run away with her? She selected a king-size Coke opened it, and offered it to him with a glass. In expected routine, he took only the bottle, tilting it to his good-looking, teenage lips, while she continued to appraise and measure him, wildly wondering what was going through his young mind...!

It was a crazy conversation, almost as if she were finding it as hard to talk to him as was he in coming up with answers that wouldn't make him sound like an awkward geek, the fifteen year old youth nervously thought. She was so frigging beautiful! And he'd seen her nearly naked ass right there in the parking lot... nothing on it only a flimsy pair of tiny black panties! Man, she had to know he could see it... just the way she had to have felt it when he'd brushed against her tit a minute before...!

"Excuse me just a moment, dear, while I get a drink and join you, okay?"

"Sure... that'd be fine!" he answered, probably too enthusiastically, the thoughts he was thinking absolutely knot-headed, he told himself. Get with it, lead-skull! What could a beautiful girl like her even want from the likes of you? Better stick to Kathy Lovell.

"Here we are!" she beamed, re-entering the kitchen with a glowing smile, her long blonde hair no longer in the wad crowning her pretty head, but sweeping down around her shoulders the way she'd always worn it when he'd seen her. She'd changed it! What for? "Cheers," she offered, toasting her glass against the bottle in his hand, not a foot of space separating them!

"C-Cheers, Mrs. Durke...!"

"Oh, why don't you call me Beth, darling. I'm not that much older than you, am I?" She tilted her head to one side, her sexy green-eyes level with his and liquidly pouring into them. "Am I...?"

"I-I don't know. I'll... I'll be seventeen next March," he lied, knowing he looked it.

"And I'll be twenty-three in December," Beth retaliated, making no effort to draw Jay's swim-jacket tighter across her full, rising and falling breasts, even as she felt it inching slowly apart. Instead, she pulled out a chair and lowered herself onto it, facing the one she'd offered him. "Sit down, Jerry doll. Let's get to know each other better... that is, if you'd like to...?"

For answer, he accepted, trying to keep his eyes above where the thing she was wearing had fallen part-way open. Cumsville! He could see some of the deep, mind-bending crease between her tits, even a part of one where it began to swell out from her chest like a Racquel Welch gem... soft looking... creamy white from a bikini halter... and even part of one full satiny thigh! No question! He'd bet his crummy paycheck she wasn't wearing so much as a kleenex beneath...!

Suddenly, she leaned forward, displaying all but the nipples of her rounded white breasts to him as she touched the sewed-on crest of his sweater that he'd earned playing tennis! "What does it say, dear, and how did you get it?" she throatily questioned, the soft tips of her fingers searing into his chest like branding irons!

"Junior Tennis Champion... Riverwood County," he answered, his eyes burning from the strain he was putting on them. "I... I won it this spring..."

"Really? A tennis champ! Darling, how wonderful!" Beth exclaimed, clutching at his broad youthful hand, the smooth softness of it as intoxicating to her as the feel of its hot, young masculinity. God, he was beautiful! The feel of him and his nearness were creating new blinding shocks of incredibly sensual fire, fusing her with unknown daring. God almighty, she had to have him... had to! "What... what did your girl friend say? I bet she was proud and happy, wasn't she, darling?"

"Well... I-I don't have any steady girl... not really, that is... just Kathy Lovell," Jerry Adams managed, hearing his own tight-throated reply as if it'd garbled out of a third person in the room. He'd never been so tense in his frigging life, and his painfully throbbing cock was as hard as a racquet handle! Oh man... what should he do...? She was coming on about as subtle as an earthquake, and he wanted it, whatever it was she was coming on with... but he was scared shitless...!

"Yes, I know her parents, Jerry sweet... she's a very pretty girl, but young for you, isn't she?" Beth half-whispered, letting her tiny pink tongue slip out to nervously run over her lushly heated lips. He said something, but she paid little attention, her now seething thoughts racing madly as she leaned even closer to the virile teenager. Then she did it, without even thinking; she reached out for his hand and slowly put it inside her terry-cloth jacket, pressing it against one vibrantly naked breast! "A young man like you needs an... an older girl, Jerry love," she whispered, moving her face nearer to his until she could smell the delicious, clean aroma of soap from his fresh, youthful skin. "A... a girl more my age... in fact... me!"

Short of being mummified, Jerry Adams could only gape at her! She was holding his hand tight against the softly yielding warmth of her naked breast, and he wondered crazily if the smooth mound of pliant flesh might not burn a hole right into his palm! Christ! He didn't know what to think, let alone do! Her naked, soft, hot tit right in his hand! Jesus, oh Jesus! Mrs. Durke, the doll every guy in the market came unglued over when she walked in! Oh sweet ass, he was so tense inside he might begin to unravel right there!

Beth found her own use of words catching in her throat! God, she'd never done anything the equal of this in her life... but it was a bit late to reflect on the morals department, even if she wanted to, wasn't it? How had Jay handled this same housewife delivery-boys bit in his book? Oral! Ooohhh... did she want to suck him? He was so young and handsome... and... and it, his young splendor, had to be the same! It was an integral part of him... his beautiful teenage cock... his youthfully sweet sperm...!

"Y-You haven't really answered me, Jerry baby... about a girl my age..." she hissed, her torrid eyes hungrily devouring him.

"I-I said... I didn't know..."

"Do... do you want to find out, baby?"

He swallowed, his young adam's apple intensively working. "Yes... if you want to...!"

The licentiously flushed young wife sensed a chill of rapture prickle over her near-nakedness. She lowered her eyes and saw the revealing bulge at the front of his jeans. She kissed him lightly on the lips and dropped one hand down to touch his penis with an exploring, caressing feel, whispering! "Ah yes, you do like me, darling. I can tell by the hardness of your cock!"

Jerry Adams gasped out, his muscular, young teenage body uncontrollably jerking at the contact of her caressing hand with his swollen penile hardness. He gaped down at her thumb and forefinger, watching them trace the elongated outline of his throbbing shaft with a gentle touch, the sudden fear that he might shoot-off right there in his shorts sending a shudder over his youthful frame.

"Wh-What're you going to do?" he blurted, writhing excitedly beneath her caressing hand, and feeling like an idiot after he'd said it.

"I'm going to love it for you, baby!" the near-naked Beth lewdly whispered, dropping from the chair onto her knees and gently spreading his strong young legs wide apart as she worked her way between them. "You want me to, and I want to!" She looked up at him, her frenzied green eyes pools of tinted, female lechery. "You... you do want me to, don't you, baby?"

"Uughhh... yes... you know I do!"

God, she'd had no idea that a boy of his age would have such a length and thickness! She caught hold of both his hands and placed them inside Jay's jacket, molding them to her tingling, hardened-nippled breasts as she knelt between his legs! She pulled open the terry-cloth garment, then began to unzip his fly. Unbuttoning the Levi's at the top, she tugged them loose, looking up at him without a word to make him lift up so that she could draw them down, then she began to work inside the white cotton of his jockey shorts. Instead of lowering those immediately, she slipped her hand inside the front opening, letting her eager fingers curl around the swollen heat of his virile young cock, while the back of her hand brushed the soft pubic-hair of his lean loins!

"Oh... oh damn, Mrs... Beth!" he chokingly whimpered, his ardent young hands excitedly clutching her full ripened breasts.

"Raise up again, lover," she whispered, tugging his shorts down as he did, revealing the climactic delight of his entire, sensually inflamed young genitals completely exposed to her in their own lustful, fired state! God, what a handsome young cock! Teenage? Who would believe that, if it were all they saw of him? It was so long and thick, yet white and unscarred, its bluish veins transparent within the sleek, hot jacket of its foreskin! And his sperm-filled youthful balls..

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Miles Stendahl was very proud of his dog Caesar. He was a pedigree Boxer and had won quite a few ribbons at local shows. Their closest rival was Sheba, another dog of the same breed, owned by the beautiful and sophisticated Zarah Parkes. The two own ..continue reading

Don Jacinto Visits His Grandmother

My name was Jacinto and I’m your typical eighteen-year-old young man. I’m six feet one inch tall with short blonde hair, blue eyes and average build. And I’m always horny and dream of hot sex with women. I just turned eighteen in early August ..continue reading

A father and step-daughter navigate a tumultuous divorce

Having just completed his regular, early morning swim in the bay, Don walked up from the water and up onto his own small, private beach. The cool, crisp Southern California water left him invigorated and he felt ready to begin his day. After walking ..continue reading