"The exhibitionist wife" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grayson Gilda)

CHAPTER ONE

He had thought about it innumerable times in the last several months, trying to figure out what was happening to him when he was in bed with Evelyn, but short of going to a head-shrinker and laying bare his whole life, while lying on a couch answering all kinds of personal, penetrating questions, Fred Holden wasn't able to come up with any substantial answers. Somehow they seemed to evade him, no matter how hard he concentrated on the problem. It just seemed to happen, and he couldn't do anything about it. He had tried a lot of different things, but the one thing he did know for sure was that he wasn't really impotent… And, as far as going to a head doctor, well forget it. He wasn't about to do that, yet.

Seated in the spare bedroom of their apartment, which Fred used as a study, he was trying to run down a column of figures on his adding machine. He was moonlighting, which consisted of running monthly audits for several small, independent businesses, a couple of service stations, a neighborhood grocery store, a dentist and a pet shop. He worked damned hard at his regular job then spent two or three nights every week doing more of the same thing for these small outfits.

He made a stupid mistake, transposing some numbers, and he cleared the machine, corrected the error and leaned back away from his desk in his swivel chair, listening to his portable radio, turned up to drown out the sounds of the television set in the living room. Evelyn was there listening and watching while some insipid singer-comedian went through his studiedly relaxed routines. He couldn't stand to watch that particular program, and he was glad that he could sequester himself in his office on the evenings when that one was aired. What he would like to do was get a little portable set; then he could watch what he liked, such as some of the detective series or a talk show or two. There were some other things he liked to watch, too, but they weren't broadcast on TV.

Looking at his wristwatch, he saw that it was a little after ten-thirty. It was a little early, but maybe – just maybe – he'd be in luck tonight. A little smile of anticipation creased his round face, and he heaved his short, muscular frame out of his soft chair. Going to the south window, he gingerly drew back the drapes, and being careful to stay well back from the sill his eager eyes sought the window of the apartment below and slightly to the left. He was looking down directly on the bed, sheets and covers turned back for occupancy, but he was disappointed. The young couple weren't on the bed, yet. "Damn!" he growled to himself. He'd have to wait. His eyes shifted to the bathroom window. Sometimes they were as careless about keeping that window closed as they were the one in the bedroom. Well… I'm in luck! The light was on in the bathroom, and the window was open… but the only way he could see into his neighbor's bathroom was to be in his. Well, hell… he'd done that before, too.

In his own bathroom, a second or two later, the door securely locked, Fred stepped into the bathtub, opened the window and standing on tiptoe looked down into the similar cubicle of the ground-floor apartment in the next building.

"Christ!" He was disgusted. All he could see was the slimly muscular body of the young husband. The man was facing him and was just entering the shower, his dark chest hairs contrasting with white skin, and below, the extreme hairiness of his loins almost obscured the flaccid tube of his penis hanging down softly against the longer, slightly reddish scrotal sac with its large egg-shaped testicles swinging easily below.

Fred wasn't interested in watching a naked man take a shower; although he had watched that same man make love to his wife, and he knew that the guy was virile, potent and had staying power that wouldn't quit. It was the guy's young wife he wanted to see. Damn! She's a luscious little piece! He wasn't even sure what her name was, but he thought their last name was Pearson. He was just about ready to step back out of the bathtub and go back to work when he saw her.

She drifted into his view shrugging off a light dressing robe. Fred's brown eyes widened, the pupils flaring as he watched her hang the robe on the door, the soft, round orbs of her beautifully sculpted buttocks working as she kicked off her mules. God damn! How he'd love to get his hands on her, his fingers digging into those twin mounds of warm, smooth, alabaster-white flesh. He could almost feel it in the palms of his hands as he watched; then, she turned and was facing him. Her breasts, full and round, were placed high and wide-spaced on her chest, the nipples pouting upward and the pink areolas looked almost like round bullseyes. The rest of her was equally fetching. She had a nice face with regular features, good, even, white teeth, a sensuous mouth, and she was golden blonde all over. Fred's eyes zeroed in on the spun-gold mound of pubic hair framed by slightly wide but curvaceous hips, and he felt his penis, below, inside his pants, come to pulsingly vibrant life. He thrilled as blood pumped into it to be trapped there, the tumescent rod of his cock throbbing with the urgency of his sexual need. His scrotum worked, pulling his balls up tight and achingly toward his crotch.

That's what confused him. He could get a hard erection watching his neighbor's wife undress in the bathroom… but when he got into bed with Evelyn, his own wife… Hell! Half the time I can't even get a hard-on!

… And, it wasn't that Evelyn was an ugly witch, either. She was every bit as desirable as that sweet, young thing next door. There was just something that turned him off when he tried to make it with his wife. It wasn't that she didn't like it. Evelyn was different from a lot of men's wives he knew about: like the ones who always had a headache… or demanded some special favor or gift… or who cynically, even perhaps sadistically, limited their husbands sex demands by making themselves sexually unattractive. He thought about the too-fat wives he knew and the ones with caustic tongues, as well as the constant-complainers… But, hell, that's not Evelyn at all. She likes to fuck… maybe too much! Actually, Fred Holden was closer to an insight into what was happening between him and Evelyn than he'd ever be, but unfortunately he didn't recognize it, didn't pursue the idea far enough. In the apartment's bathroom next door, the lovely, young wife opened the shower door and stepped into it with her husband. "Damn it!" again. There was nothing to be seen for a while. Turning he stepped out of the bathtub and flushed the commode; then, he left the room and went back to his desk. The television set in the living room was still going, and he assumed that Evelyn would be there for another half-hour or more; of course, she knew better than to disturb him while he was working. He had made that damned clear to her, several months ago… right after they were married.

Evelyn was Fred's second wife. The main reason he had taken on these accounting jobs that he did at home at night was so he could keep up his alimony payments. That God damned shrew is too smart to get married, again! All she thinks about is money… and she's getting it! Plenty! Fred felt he had been taken to the cleaners when he'd been hit with alimony payments of over seven-hundred dollars a month. It had taken several stormy sessions in Carol's lawyer's office before he had gotten it reduced to a more comfortable figure, five-hundred and fifty dollars per month. Then, when he'd married Evelyn there just wasn't enough money to go around, so he was moonlighting. He didn't want to spend his evenings grubbing for extra money, but there didn't seem to be any other way to meet expenses. The worst part of it was that prices kept right on going up, the inflation eating away at his salary to the point where he was thinking of taking on a couple more accounts. Christ! If I have to do that… pretty soon I'll be working four or five nights every week!

Glumly, he sat back down at his desk, conscious of his still throbbing erection, straining against the front of his trousers, his hand going down to caress the turgid length of his cock and smiling with the secret knowledge that he sure as hell wasn't impotent as Evelyn regularly accused him of being. He toyed with an idea: What I ought to do is walk in there, turn that damned TV set off, haul her out of her chair, throw her down on the living room floor… and fuck hell out of her… so she knows she's really been had! Something kept him from carrying out the idea, though. Maybe it was the memory of how Carol had rebuffed him so many times, putting him off with vapid excuses… until one day he'd tried it. He manhandled her… forced her – raped her actually – fucking the ass off her, while she fought him like a wounded tigress. It had been a costly mistake. After a visit to her lawyer the next day, she insisted that he move out because she was divorcing him.

He sat there at his desk for several minutes, trying to force himself back to the drudgery of those endless columns of figures, but after a few desultory attempts at reconciling some of the entries, he gave up as a lost cause. Reaching into his desk drawer he brought forth a small pair of binoculars, rose from his chair and went to the window, again.

Things were going to start happening down there in his neighbor's bedroom. He saw that the young husband was stretched out to his full length on the white bedsheets, his cock hardening rapidly. Fred still couldn't see the man's lovely, blonde wife, yet. She was in another part of the bedroom, hidden from his view. Now, the husband was reaching down to grasp the shaft of his penis, holding it aloft. His mouth was moving, but Fred couldn't hear his words; he could only imagine that he was making a lewd invitation.

She was there, then, crawling up on the bed beside him and rolling over on top of her husband. Fred saw her white, tapering thighs part then close again, and he knew that she had captured the stiffening shaft of her husband's prick, holding it tight between her clamped-together thighs.

Using the binocular, he brought the scene into sharp focus, almost as clear and large as though he were there in the room with them. This's the best damned investment I've ever made! He watched their mouths meet and meld, and he imagined the sucking, nibbling and the intertwining of tongues in the deep, open-mouthed kiss; then, as he swept the glasses over the smooth whiteness of her back to the nipped in waist and the curving flare of her hips, he saw the slight undulations of her buttocks and knew that she was grinding her warmly moist furrow up and down the length of her husband's massively erect cock. Below, Fred felt the involuntary lurch of his own aching hard-on, his hand going into a pocket to shift the shaft of his turgid prick to a more comfortable position, and with gentle fingers he caressed the length of it, debating with himself whether he should or shouldn't. Several times lately, as he'd watched the copulating neighbors, he'd masturbated while he watched them. It gave him a measure of satisfaction, but he didn't really like to do it; it seemed such a waste to him, especially when he could have been getting all the fucking he could handle with his wife, Evelyn. It's damned strange that I can't get it up with her! Maybe… it's because she's so eager for it… always letting me know that she's hot for it… and coming after me! Christ! I don't know… she's so aggressive sometimes! Again, a truth was dogging him, but Fred didn't recognize it when he saw it. What he knew for sure was: My cock just lies there limp as hell…! And, even if I do get it about half hard… it'll just curl up and die on me!

… And, now as he watched, his own excitement mounting, he saw the young wife slithering down over her husband's chest, her mouth kissing his flat belly. Lower and lower she moved, until she was kneeling between his wide-spread legs, her hands busy, one caressing his ball-filled scrotum, while the other held the thick length of his cock's shaft. Then, her smiling lips were coming down to the throbbing head of it as her tiny hand retracted the loose folds of the foreskin to reveal the reddish satin of her husband's cock's head. Damn! She's going to suck him, tonight! Fred's cock jerked involuntarily with erotic excitement against the confining cloth of his shorts and pants, and his hand went down there again to soothe and fondle.

He was thinking about Evelyn, again. Maybe it would be a good idea to take his throbbing erection into the living room… and make it with her there. Without any rough stuff, though; just a nice, smooth seduction with the fucking taking place on the couch or the floor. Any place but the bedroom…! But, he couldn't tear himself away from the sex show going on in the apartment below.

The young blonde had her husband's prick in her mouth, now, and Holden let his imagination roam, trying to envision what it would feel like to have that delicious tongue swirling around the head of his cock. It was hard to hold the binocular steady with one hand, and he stopped his unconscious stroking of his own penis, intent upon watching the other man's hard shaft as it was absorbed deeper into his wife's mouth. With both hands holding the glasses now, he watched the golden blonde head bean to bob slowly up and down the turgid length of it, the binocular giving him a close-up view of everything that was happening.

He saw tiny, pink flanges of her inner lips pulled out, glistening with droplets of moisture, on the upstroke; then, they were stuffed back inside, her lips rolling inward as they nibbled their way back down to absorb almost all of her man's cock on each downward bob of her head. Her eyes were closed; her face serene, and the spun-gold of her hair was cascading down over her husband's hairy thighs. Then he noticed that the young man was flexing his hips, driving his massive cock even deeper up into his wife's ovalled lips.

… Now, she was taking all of it; her nose was nestling down solidly into the black hairiness of her husband's groin. Having watched the young couple enough during the last few weeks to know that the younger man's fully erect prick was something to reckon with, as he'd watched him pull it completely clear before ramming it back home again into his wife's undulantly receptive cunt, Fred was pretty sure how much cock she was taking deep into her mouth and throat. Hell's fire! She's got all of it in her mouth… and that husband of her's is hung with about eight inches of hard cock… at least!

Fred Holden could barely contain his own mounting excitement, as he watched the young wife from next door, her head beginning now to move a little faster and her husband's hands groping down to either side of her head to guide her ovalled, sucking mouth, while at the same time his hips rose and fell in rhythmic counterpoint, as he thrust upward at her with desperate urgency. Damn! She's going to suck him off… all the way!

As he watched the oral-genital act between the young, married couple, the idea began to grow, little by little, until he knew that he'd have to have that sweet, young thing, next door. Somehow, he would get to her… take her to bed, and… Christ! He could already feel that luscious flesh, her mouth working on him, his own tongue in that tight, little cunt… and finally his stiff, throbbing cock plumbing her, her clinging cuntal sheath slipping along the length of his thick prick. If I work it just right… God!

Faster and faster her gold-crowned head moved over her husband's loins, her mouth alternately nibbling and sucking, her cheeks hollowing, her lips stretched in a wide oval around that monster shaft tightening and relaxing, and Fred knew that in a moment it would be over. Even more fervently he wished that it could be he, who would be cumming in his neighbor's wife's deliciously sucking mouth.

With a final, upward, ramming thrust of his hips the young husband came. Fred saw him go rigid, and at the base of the man's hard cock there was a little stretch of it that could be seen clearly through the glasses. Fascinatedly, he watched as it expanded and contracted rhythmically, pumping his semen splashingly into his wife's still sucking mouth; then he saw her throat, the muscles working as she swallowed, and unconsciously, Fred's hand went down to his own pulsing cock, his fingers fumbling with the zipper tab. In a moment he was hauling his hardened cock out of his fly, his hand gripping it tightly and moving it, and he was aware that the head of it was moist and hot.

Suddenly, he stopped! Why the hell should I…? Christ! I've got a hard-on that won't stop…! So, why don't I use it the right way? He'd do it! He'd go into the living room… and fuck his wife, Evelyn. Rip her clothes off… throw her down on the God damned rug… and fuck her half silly!

Stuffing his turgid, demanding prick back into his pants but not bothering to zip his fly, Fred Holden put the binocular on the desk as he went by on his way to the living room, thinking: I should've done it before this… instead of letting her ridicule me… accusing me of not being a real man! Impotent? Damn! Just wait until she sees this!

The living room was empty!

The TV set was still going, but Evelyn was not there!

"Evelyn…?"

No answer.

Swiftly, Fred Holden searched their apartment. She wasn't in the bedroom or the bath; however, he saw her purse on the dresser, so he knew that she couldn't have gone far. Just to make sure he went downstairs and checked the carport. Both their cars were there. Well hey! She must be off visiting somewhere in the apartments!

Fred was disappointed… and as he searched for his wife, of course, his erection began to subside, until in a few moments it was soft again. God damn! What a time for her to be running off somewhere!

He was outside already; the Southern California evening was balmy and pleasant. Aimlessly, he began to walk among the buildings of the apartment complex, telling himself that he was looking for Evelyn… but he found himself looking into windows with open drapes, hoping to see her… or someone else, like a shapely housewife, fetchingly naked, dashing across the room, forgetting that her windows were open to the world.

… And then, he was prowling along between the buildings searching for open windows of bedrooms, which were situated almost consistently to the rear of the apartments. Christ! he thought once. Am I turning into a real peeper? The thought caromed around inside his skull. It gave him momentary pause, as he remembered that there were laws about peeping. It was one thing to watch from the privacy of his own apartment… but out there in the dark, prowling around…? It's too damned risky! They'd put me in a cell… or send me to a shrink!

It scared him to think about it, now. Some crazy guy might think I'm a burglar… or something, and take a shot at me! He remembered having read of just that happening. It had been in the morning newspaper, just three days ago. Christ! He began making his way back to his own apartment.

Glancing at his wristwatch, when he gained the safety of their apartment, Fred saw that it was eleven-fifteen already. He snapped off the blaring TV set and made another hasty search of the rooms. Evelyn wasn't back yet.

In his office-study, he covered the adding machine and closed the ledger he had been working on, angry with himself that he hadn't gotten more of the work done. Restlessly, he looked out the window, down toward that young couple's bedroom, hoping that perhaps they had gone on to other things, after that luscious, little blonde thing had sucked-off her husband. He'd never know now, because the drapes had been closed; however, the light was still on. He could see the glow filtering through. "Damn! Just my luck!" he growled to himself. I suppose I might as well take my shower and get ready to go to bed…

Out of curiosity, he looked from their bedroom window. He'd never been able to see anything from there, before, but tonight as he looked down toward the ground floor apartment to the West, he gasped with surprise. Damn! Look at that!

There on the bed were three people: two women and a man! It's the Holloways! He knew them slightly, a nodding acquaintance… But, who the hell is that black-haired woman…? He looked more closely. She was on her knees and elbows, her soft, white buttocks-cheeks raised, undulating back against the hard shaft of Vince Holloway's plunging cock that ground deep into her vagina, lined sparsely with pubic hair as jet-black as that of her head… and her face was nuzzled down between the smooth, tapering thighs… the sun-bronzed thighs of Vince's wife, Thelma. Pendulant, below her torso, he saw full, pear-shaped breasts that swung prettily to and fro as she bucked back against his neighbor, fucking back, for all she was worth. He knew that she would be tall and willowy, if she were standing, which was exactly the way Evelyn looked. In fact, he had the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach… that it was his wife, Evelyn, but he couldn't see her face, hidden as it was down between the other woman's legs. It didn't take any imagination to know what she was doing with her mouth down there. Christ! He had to know for sure whether or not it was Evelyn in the Holloway's bedroom being fucked from the back like an alley cat, while at the same time she was eating that Amazon, Thelma Holloway, who lay on her back, thighs spread obscenely and thoroughly enjoying every moment of it. He had to know!

Stumblingly, Fred rushed into his office grabbed his field glasses and ran back into the bedroom, remembering to snap off the light, so that he would be in darkness, lessening the chance of anyone seeing him as he watched the scene below. God! He hoped that he was wrong…! But, God damn it… I ought to know my own wife's naked body… even without seeing her face!

He was already raging inside, as he raised the binocular to his eyes and focused on the threesome, fucking in the bedroom of the Holloway's apartment.

Her face was still hidden, but he swept his glasses over the black-haired woman's svelte figure. It was Evelyn all right! The God damned slut! He could clearly see Vince's cock, the shaft of it glistening dully with viscid moisture as it pounded in and out of Fred's wife's cunt. The son-of-a-bitch!

Then, he was concentrating on Thelma's loins, hoping that she would shift the position of her legs, or that Evelyn would raise her head for a moment. As he watched, his anger boiling over in him at being cuckolded, Thelma raised her thighs and pulled her knees back against the fullness of her large, melon-like breasts. He could see the white suntan line of her bikini tops as well as the bottoms… and now he could see Evelyn's face in profile, her finely chiseled features plainly recognizable. Her tiny, pink tongue was shooting out lickingly, concentrating directly on the palpitating clitoris of the other woman. All he could do, for the time being, was watch helplessly. He had already thought about it, discarding the idea as quickly as it had come… thought about going over there, himself and either drag his wife home… or join them. He knew that the first would cause an uproar and possibly bring on unnecessary violence. The alternate option didn't appeal to him either; Thelma Holloway was a beautiful woman, perfectly proportioned… but big. She was nearly six feet tall. That's why Fred Holden thought of her as an Amazon. Damn! I don't know whether I'd be able to make it with her! That idea, too was abandoned. He'd just wait until Evelyn came home; then, he'd do something…

Watching Vince slam his massive cock into Evelyn from behind, like a rutting boar, Fred's own prick came up, again, to painfully throbbing erection. Suddenly, he realized that he was watching the finale of the a trois sex act in the apartment below, for now the three were writhing in the throes of impending orgasm. Thelma's loins undulated up to Evelyn's mouth, where now Fred saw that her tongue was disappearing right into the pink cleft of the other woman's outsize cuntal opening.

Holloway was a large man, also. He loomed above Evelyn, driving deep into her back-thrusting loins with pile-driver force, the speed of his strokes becoming ever faster and faster.

It was Thelma, whose soaring orgasm burst over her first. She opened her mouth to scream as convulsive shudders swept over her body. Her eyes were blazed; her mouth gaping wide as she panted out her release. Holden couldn't actually hear her very plainly, but there was a muffled, high pitched sound. He was sure that it was her final scream of ecstatic passion.

Then, as Holloway's wife slumped back, her legs straightening out to lie flat but still wide-spread, her chest heaving with deep pantings causing the full mounds of her breasts to rise and fall, Fred saw that his wife, Evelyn, was in full-throated screams of rapture. This time he heard it faintly, "God! Fuck me… hard! I'mmmmm cummmmmiiiiinnnnnggggg! AAAAaaaaauuuuuggggghhhhh!"

The sound of his wife's voice slashed through him like a saber. He had heard that sound of passion so seldom, himself that hearing it caused by another man's pounding cock in her was the rawest hurt of all. The God damned bitch! She's no better than a cheap whore! What really cut to the quick was the realization that Evelyn really hadn't given him much of a chance to prove that he could satisfy her. Now, there was yet another gnawing suspicion: How long's she been out alleycatting? The dismaying thought that she may have been looking for her sexual kicks some other place, almost ever since they'd been married… five months, now, was like a kick in the groin for him. God damn her! I'll show her when she gets back here! I'll show her! I'LL SHOW HER!

Barely able to watch, as his jealous rage dimmed his eyesight, he saw Vince Holloway jackhammering into Evelyn's clasping cunt, and he knew that the man was on the verge of cumming… Then, he drove into Fred's wife for the final, cunt-plumbing thrust and his big body went stiff, as he ground it hard and deep into her passion-trembling belly. He knew what the other man was feeling… that satisfying spurt of semen, hosing through the length of your aching cock, the final, sweet release from building tension… and in a way, he couldn't condemn Holloway for doing what he was doing to Evelyn; especially if she was the one who provoked it. At that point, he was sure in his own mind that it was Evelyn who was at fault. The bastard's only doing what I'd do, too… if some gal as sexy and as forward as Evelyn was throwing it right at me…! He thought about that for a moment and changed his mind. No! Damn it! That's the trouble! Evelyn is too damned forward… it turns me off so that I can't get an erection! A glimmer of the truth he was looking for filtered through to him. She doesn't let me start things, chase her a little… seduce her… then mount her and duck her… like a man! Finally, he was sure of it. The knowledge was his! That's it, God damn it! That's it! Things are going to change!