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

CHAPTER THREE

"Now, Susan… if you'll sort of slide down to the edge of the stool, then lean back on your elbows… That's it! Just fine, now. Hold it!" The man speaking was squatting on the floor, focusing his camera on her naked loins, and Susan Merril following his directions to the letter, obediently did his bidding. "Now… just spread your legs, nice and wide. I want to get a couple of shots from this angle!"

Slowly, she allowed her thighs to part, exposing the whole of her genital area to the stranger's eyes and the probing lens of his camera.

"Like this…?" Susan asked amiably.

"Yeah… that's fine! Hold it just like that!" His camera clicked, and immediately he thumbed the mechanism to the next frame. "A little wider, now!" He came in closer, focusing his lens for a close-up, snapped the picture and said. "That's just great!"

Standing up, then, he stepped back and looked at her nude figure critically. He was obviously a successful business man. Dressed impeccably, hair trim done by razor-cut, nails manicured to perfection, his hands soft and white, graying at the temples and his body a little flabby, he was probably well past fifty-five years of age. In his wallet he no doubt would be carrying pictures of two or three grandchildren, the oldest perhaps nine or ten years old, and at home there would be a past middle-age wife… yet he was here in this Rent-a-Model studio taking obscenely pornographic pictures of a lovely, blue-eyed, blonde woman, young enough to be one of his daughters.

It was nearing the end of the thirty minute picture taking session, for which her client had paid twenty dollars, and Susan Merril stood to her feet, reaching for a light wrapper she had shed when he had come into the small, intimate studio carrying his own camera bag.

Impersonally, acting according to her instructions and functioning more like a sales clerk than a nude model, she said, "We can do the developing and printing here for you, Sir."

She was shrugging into her cover-up garment, and he glanced with surprise at his elegant, gold wristwatch, seeing that barely a minute remained of his half-hour. A look of undisguised disappointment passed over his handsome features.

"All right… I'll leave the film for processing… but look we still have about a minute, and I've got just two shots left, Miss…? Couldn't I…"

"Susan," she filled in for him. "I'm number one hundred fifteen… and I'm sorry, the time's up."

"Do you have some other numbers to go along with your name… like a telephone number?"

"I'm sorry, Sir… that's against the rules. The only other numbers I can give you are: thirty-eight, twenty-five, thirty-six!" She fielded his attempt to establish a liaison, easily, casually, and walking to the door, pushed the call-bell button signaling Linda Sloan at the front desk that she was finished; then with a friendly smile she went on, "You can leave your film with Miss Sloan as you go out."

The message was clear. He had been told in a thoroughly professional way that his time was up. Turning to leave reluctantly, he asked as he swung the door open, "If I decide to come back, again, is it possible to make an appointment, so I'll be sure to get you…"

"Yes, Sir, it is," she assured him. "Miss Sloan will issue you an identity number."

"I see," he mused. "The customer's are protected, too!"

"Yes, Sir, Miss Sloan made up the system, and she insists that everyone be anonymous." She took the doorknob on the inside and began closing the door. Linda Sloan also didn't like for her models and their customers to spend any extra time in conversation.

Just then, Miss Sloan appeared in the hallway, meeting Susan's client as he came out the door. "I hope you've enjoyed your session with Susan, here at The Camera's Eye, Sir," she said, smoothly, escorting the gentleman along the hall toward the front office.

"Oh, yes… very much…"

Over her shoulder, Linda Sloan addressed Susan. "I have one more client for you, dear… then you can take your break."

"All right, Miss Sloan." She closed the door and waited for yet another stranger to come in for the purpose of taking nude pictures of her. Invariably, it seemed, they would be older men taking a voyeur's delight in the loveliness of her body. Some would be shy, only wanting to look and take pictures, barely saying anything to her. Others only wanted to talk, forgetting to take any pictures at all… but there were others who made it clear that they were interested in her to the extent of making passes, fondling and caressing. Those men, of course, were asked to leave her alone. If they persisted… she asked them to leave. Beyond that, a secret signal would bring Linda Sloan and one of the male models to her room, and the customer would be escorted to the street.

As she sat down on the mattress covered with a fake tiger's fur spread, Susan Merril thought about the strange way she was making extra money. It was better than being a Library Clerk at the university. The work was easy: all she had to do was pose nude for the voyeuristic clients. For this she was paid six dollars and fifty cents for each half-hour session, and most days she was only on hand for four or five hours.

She remembered how shocked her husband, Ron, had been when she had told him she had quit her job at the library to take this job at The Camera's Eye.

"Do you mean to say," Ron had asked with troubled brown eyes, "that you're going to strip naked so these kinky guys can photograph you…?"

"That's right, darling… but it's strictly business. If the customers break the rules, out they go!"

"Look but don't touch, is that it?"

"Yes!" she answered. "Look, here's one of Miss Sloan's business cards."

He took the card and read:

THE CAMERA'S EYE, Rent-a-Model, Camera furnished, Film processed and printed, The studio choice of discerning lensmen.

"What happens if some guy tries to get funny with you…?"

"There are some men working as models, too… and they give them the heave-ho!"

"Hell! It's kinkier than I thought, then, if she's got Muscle Beach boys there, too!"

"I don't understand, Ron…?"

"Well… they must be there for the gay ones to take pictures of!" he explained. "Are there any butch types come…?"

"You mean women… who…?"

"Yeah, you know, lesbians…?"

"I don't know…?"

"Well… I wouldn't be surprised…"

In the end, Susan had gone to work at The Camera's Eye, because she could earn more money there, it was necessary. If Ron were to finish up the work on his doctorate, it was up to her to help him get it. Some of the grants in aid had been withdrawn from the university, and it was a hard decision for Ron and Susan to make. Her husband was already well into his course work, his thesis subject selected and approved by the Graduate Committee, and he had begun the grueling research work. If he had to leave school, now, it would be harder to come back, later, to finish up the requirements for the degree. Susan volunteered to drop out of her own studies to go to work, but the job in the university library just didn't pay enough, making it necessary for Ron to take time from his studies to earn living money. That was when Susan heard about The Camera's Eye. Her photogenic, blonde beauty and her lovely figure got her the job immediately.

It was a terribly frightened, nervous and apprehensive Susan Merril, who took off all of her clothing for the first time… while a man, a total stranger, watched her with avid eyes, adjusted his camera, turned on the photo floodlights and began taking pictures of her naked loveliness. Some of the poses she had been asked to assume were, to say the least, obscene, but as time passed she became accustomed to being asked for certain poses.

… And, there was a certain excitement in it, too. She knew what some of the men were thinking. Their conversation, the words and gestures they used in getting her into positiom were highly descriptive… and erotic. "Now, baby… I want you to put both hands down there… on either side of your cunt… and pull it apart for me…!"

Or, another might tell her, "Roll your nipples in your fingers to get them hard… then wet them with some saliva!" Yet another would order, "I want to get a shot of your chit… while it's all nice and hard!" Or: "Shove a couple of your fingers in your cant…!"

Once, after she had had a whole series of such lewd requests, especially one involving a huge dildo, a customer had brought along with him, she had complained to Linda Sloan, the owner, about it.

"As long as the customer doesn't touch you," Linda explained, "I've said that they can pose you any way they want!"

"… But…" Susan didn't know exactly how to say it. She tried, "Some of them talk so filthy… and when they ask me to do certain things… it makes me…"

"Makes you what…?" Linda's jade-green eyes questioned.

"Well… they're talking about sex… and wanting me to do things to myself… and…"

"And, you get all aroused…?"

"Yes… that's it…" Susan breathed.

Linda Sloan smiled a secret, little smirk as she answered, "Most of the girls have reported things like that… but I suppose the only thing you can do is get used to it. It seems to be a part of the picture. Of course… if you want to quit… it's up to you. I've got a whole drawer full of applications, so there's no problem in getting a replacement for you…"

The meaning of Miss Sloan's dismissal of her complaint was very clear: Do what's asked… or quit! Susan decided not to quit… but she was also very sure that she'd never get used to being in a sexually, half-aroused state during her working hours.

Then, as she sat there musing, the door to her studio opened and a short, stocky, gray-haired man walked in carrying a Polaroid color camera. Susan recognized him; the man had come to The Camera's Eye several times before this, and each time he had asked for Susan, number one hundred and fifteen. He also always rented one of the studio's cameras.

"Hello, there, Susan baby!" he smiled broadly. "I'm back again!"

"Hello…" Susan grinned shyly, not bothering to get up. She knew that this man wanted to take most of his pictures of her while she was lying down. Loosening the belt of her robe she began to pull it off. "What kind of poses do you want, today…?"

From a brown, paper bag he removed several thin, silk scarves, light and diaphanous. "Here," he said, holding up one of the wisps of see-through material, "I'd like to get some shots of you with these!"

"I'm really not much of a Salome…" Susan remarked, kiddingly. Her wrapper was off, now, revealing her curvaceous body.

"You'll do… until I find a better one," the customer told her, his hungry eyes sweeping over her luscious, naked body.

Linda drove their little, foreign car home from her afternoon's nude modeling stint at The Camera's Eye, feeling more than usual that state of being half sexually aroused. Having strange men's eyes devour her curvaceously nude body and knowing that later they would be enjoying seeing her, again, as they perused the prints or slides, perhaps showing them gloatingly to yet other strangers, their friends and associates, gave her a giddy feeling of awe and wonder that her body could excite men so very much; for excite them she did. She saw it in their eyes… and in the throbbing bulges inside their pants, which for the most part they tried to conceal out of embarrassment or nervousness.

Of course, she was safe from any molestation, but the idea had crossed her mind as to what could happen… if their were no restraints, the rules set down by Miss Sloan set aside, even for a little while. Ugh! It didn't take much imagination to know that the wishful desire in those men's eyes would be translated into action, almost instantly.

Her working hours as a Rent-a-Model were in the afternoon, designed to catch the business men on their long lunch hour. She was usually finished by five-thirty or six, so she could get home to cook a hot, nutritious dinner for Ron. When she had taken the job at The Camera's Eye, Ron had insisted that she not work any evening hours. It was just as well, too. There was a dangerous possibility that she might be followed home from work. Miss Sloan had agreed that it could happen, so Susan felt a little more secure driving home in the late afternoon and early evening hours. Even so, she had gotten into the habit of checking her rear-view mirror constantly and taking roundabout routes home. Actually, it was just a short drive up Wilshire Boulevard from the studio to their apartment near the university.

She found that Ron had already gone off to the library for the evening. The remains of his fast soup and sandwich dinner were on the kitchen table. An unreasonable annoyance overwhelmed her. Linda had asked her to take one extra client, this afternoon, and it had made her more than an half-hour late. Ron's fixing his own meal and leaving before she arrived home made her feel lonely and more than a little chagrined that she couldn't be there to do the wifely thing.

Lately, it seemed, they were seeing less and less of each other… and it had been four nights, now… since Ron had made love to her. That bothered her. Ron was only twenty-five… almost twenty-six years old, and he didn't seem to have the sex drive that went along with his youth. He told her it was just temporary. His exacting research work was draining him of all his energies.

It's got to be tonight! She told herself over and over that it had to be so, hoping against hope that Ron wouldn't plead exhaustion, again, God, I couldn't stand to wait another night!

A startling thought raced into her brain like a bombshell: Could Ron be… seeing another woman? It might be a reason for his tiredness… and lack of interest in me! She rejected the preposterous idea almost instantly. No! That couldn't be it! Ron and I are really in love with each other… and he wouldn't do that… any more than I would! God! I can't imagine having another man doing things to me!

She ached for him. All those lewd poses during the afternoon had been working in her, feeding on her mind and body. Her breasts and nipples tingled from exciting them to erection, and at least three of her clients had wanted to take close-ups of her loins, insisting that she expose her genitals completely. It's a disgusting way to make a living for us… but the job pays more than any other I could get!

Quickly, she prepared her own evening meal, just a snack since she dared not put on any extra weight. She counted her calorie intake carefully, ever since she had been working at The Camera's Eye. Linda Sloan had made it clear that she didn't want any sloppy, overweight women working for her. It made sense, too. If anything, Susan's figure was even more alluring than it was before she became one of Linda's Rent-a-Models.

After she had eaten, done the necessary household chores, she decided to shampoo her hair. Afterward, having dried her long, golden-blonde hair, she brushed it until it shone like burnished gold; then as time dragged, waiting for her husband to come home, she showered and put on a filmy nightgown. Propped up in bed with a popular novel, she read to pass away the time. The book was explicitly frank about sex, as many novels are these days, and she found herself reading the same words she heard each day at work. She, herself, never used those words; however, she recognized that there was little she could do to avoid hearing them. I wish Ron wasn't so vulgar… sometimes…! But then, she supposed most men were like that, and she'd just have to put up with it. She had already been through the stage of being shocked by them; now, she just tolerated that vocabulary.

It was a quarter past ten when Ron came home. He found his wife already in bed, and he dutifully and somewhat wearily gave her a quick peck of a kiss, disappearing quickly into the bathroom after a grunted, "Hi, darling…"

Instinctively, Susan knew his mood, his bone-tired look, and she was sure that there was no hope for the sexual congress she wanted… and needed… But, there's got to be some way I can get him interested enough to… do it to me… tonight! He didn't even notice me… see that I had on my nicest nightgown. She looked down to assure herself that the contours of her lovely breasts were barely hidden by the bodice of the filmy, see-through garment. The irony of the situation wasn't entirely wasted on her, as she ruefully thought about the several strange men, who had viewed her naked body, their emotions charged with an unattainable desire for her, while she had posed for them, today… yet her own husband had barely given her a second glance. She couldn't find it in her to laugh. It was too tragic, and she was desperate. What can I do? Would she have to seduce her own husband? Maybe that's it! I've got to make him want me… even if he thinks he's too tired to do it!

She had never been that forward. It had always been enough for her to be there, in bed, clean, perfumed… waiting; now, things had changed. Maybe she could change, too! Her mind raced planning what she would do… would have to do, if she were to get the tenderness of his kisses and the hardness of his penis filling her. God! I'll have to do it!

Tossing back the sheet, Susan pulled her nightgown up so that the hem was barely covering her loins, revealing the most of her softly tapered thighs; then, she arranged the front of it to reveal the deep cleft of the valley between her full-orbed breasts. She'd be ready for him, looking her most desirable, when he had finished his shower.

Abruptly, she heard the sound of the water stop, and she knew it would be only a few moments until Ron would be coming to bed. Her heart pounded with the excitement of what she was planning to do… if he didn't show a proper interest in her.

Glowing deep in her belly, she felt the banked fires of her desire begin to flame into searing life, and above her breasts tingled as her nipples grew to erect vibrancy. I'm getting hot… just thinking about it! Unconsciously, her tiny, cool hands cupped the pliant flesh of her mounding breasts, her palms feeling the hard buds of her nipples spiking out into them.

Ron came out of the bathroom, his longish, brown hair tousled and damp. He was dressed in his pajamas, and wordlessly, he looked at his wife, lying uncovered, her nightgown pulled up seductively… invitingly, her hands still cupping her own breasts. His eyes were bleary from long hours of reading, and he was exhausted physically. He knew that the display of her legs and breasts were intended for him… But God! A man's got to feel like it… before he can really do anything! He switched off the light.

He could still see her in the glow of the bedside lamp, her eyes deep pools of troubled blue, "Ron… aren't you even a little bit interested… tonight…?" she murmured.

"I'm pretty damned tired, darling…" he told her.

"Could you get interested… if I helped…?"

"Hell! If I can't get it up… there's not much action, and the way I feel right now… I couldn't even get interested in Raquel Welch!" He padded toward the bed and sat down on his side, reaching for a cigarette to light.

"Ron, darling… I just want you to… to be interested in me… right now, tonight!"

Steadfastly, he refused to look at her as he sucked smoke into his lungs and exhaled. "Why don't you just go to sleep and forget about it, tonight…" he suggested, then promised, "maybe tomorrow night! I've got a lighter schedule, tomorrow, and I'll feel more rested."

With a boldness born of her desperate need, Susan scrambled felinely to her knees and whipped her nightgown off over her head. Tossing the wisp of a garment carelessly aside, she knee-walked across the bed, her arms going around Ron's shoulders. "Oh, Ron… I can't wait!" she cried shamelessly, nuzzling into the back of his neck. "Don't you understand…?"

"… And, don't you understand? I'm tired… and I want to get some sleep!" He tried to remove her arms, but now she was slipping her hand inside his pajama tops and running her palm down over the hairiness of his chest. He stayed her hand with his own, growling, "Stop it, Susan! It's no use!"

He stood to his feet, breaking her embrace, and as he turned, saw that she was completely naked.

Blushing from his rebuff, but determined that he would be aroused, she said, "Ron, darling… I've never had to ask you… before, but I am now… Will you… make love to me… please?" It shamed her to ask him… but she had to do it.

Her husband picked up her filmy nightgown and handed it to her wordlessly, a feeling of shame at his own temporary inadequacy flooding through him. God damn it! I can't help it! For the last three nights I've tried… but my cock just lies there limp!

Taken aback with surprise and disappointment, Susan took her nightgown from him. "Do you mean… you won't even try to… do it…?" she asked, holding back scalding tears.

His eyes swept over all of the loveliness of her, and he knew he should feel something for her. Ordinarily, before the last several weeks of harder, more exacting work, his penis would have been at full erection, standing jackstaff straight and hard… But, now he was only aware of a deep exhaustion that seemed to drain him.

"No, darling…" he murmured. "It's no use… I can't do anything!" It was a hard confession to make. He lay down on his side of the bed and rolled to his side, facing away from her. "Let's try to get some sleep… okay…?"

Susan told herself that she wouldn't cry. There has to be a way! Oh, God! I've just got to… have it, tonight! She lay down beside him, curling her body in close to his, spoon-fashion, trying to understand what it must be like… to be a man, dependent upon sexual performance or non-performance by the presence or absence of an erection. He must feel horrible about it!

"I love you, darling," she whispered into his ear, as her hand slid up over his hip and down into the waistband of his pajamas. She had never been this bold before, but of course, she had never had to be. Her tiny, hand rummaged for a moment or two in the hairiness of his abdomen before moving on down to grasp the limp length of his penis. With gentle sensuousness she caressed it, working the foreskin back and her fingers rubbing the cool head of it all around.

"Sue, honey…" she heard him choke, "give it up… and go to sleep!"

Nothing was happening. His penis lay soft in her hand… and at this point she didn't have enough sophisticated knowledge about sex to know that… if she used the right technique, her husband's cock would have been standing at erect attention within moments… regardless of his pleadings of fatigue.

She was just on the verge of giving up, when an idea floated into her mind. That's it! Why didn't I think of it before!

Quickly, she was on her knees again and she was tugging at him, forcing her husband to turn over on his back.

"Ron, Ron…" she urged. "Look at me! I want to show you some of the crazy, sexy things that a lot of the men are asking me to do… so they can take pictures of me doing them…"

He was on his back then, struggling to sit up. "I thought you were just posing nude… not making with obscenity… and porn!"

"Do you really think those lecherous old men… just take art pictures…?" she countered.

A sudden jealousy seized him. Damn! Is there anything else going on…? He was sitting up now, gripping her by the shoulders and feeling the soft, satiny flesh cringe under his fingers. "What else are you doing down there? I thought they couldn't touch you?" Secretly, she was overjoyed; at least, her husband was jealous.

… And, maybe that's a good sign!

"Then, what the hell are you talking about?"

"The sexy things… they've been asking me to do!"

"So…?"

"I thought you'd like to know…" She made her voice low and throaty.

"You know damned well I do!" Ron growled, his quick anger beginning to subside somewhat as the flashing idea that his wife might have been going the whole way toward posing for hard-core pornography… with a man was dispelled. Then, he added, "Like what…?"

"Let me go and I'll show you… You do want me to show you… don't you, darling…?"

Releasing her, her husband leaned back against the headboard. "Yeah… I'd like to see it… because I'm thinking maybe you shouldn't be working in a joint like that!"

"It's not a joint, Ron! You can't compare it to a topless-bottomless beer bar. Those are real joints!" she defended.

"I suppose…" he agreed, "but let's get on with it, now!" His curiosity was piqued. He had to know what had been going on in those little, individual and intimate studios at The Camera's Eye.

A pounding excitement made her a little nervous, but she was determined to carry out her little stratagem. She'd do almost anything, now, to arouse her husband, because there was a roaring inferno of desire consuming her loins. She had to get him ready!

"Well…?" he urged.

"One thing they like for me to do is… wet my lips and let my tongue stick out a little with my mouth open… and pretend that I'm cumming…" She did it, illustrating the pose.

"That's not so bad…"

"Then… I put saliva on my nipples and roll them between my fingers… like this!" It wasn't necessary as her nipples already coned out into erect sensitiveness. "They like me to cup my breasts in my hands… and point them right at the camera, too…"

Her hands caressed the soft fullness of her breasts, offering them to her husband. "There's one thing about it, though. All these things really do make me all hot… and…"

"I should think they would…" Ron agreed, as his eyes watched his wife's tiny hands massaging the pliant flesh of her own breasts. Suddenly, he felt it. There was a crawling, lifting sensation down there between his legs as his scrotum tightened, and a growing sensation of a tentative erection caused his penis to bulge up against the material of his pajamas. It surprised him. I'll be damned! My cock's getting hard! Unconsciously, his hand went down to it and covered it.

Susan saw the involuntary lurch of his penis inside his pajama bottoms and his hand go down to it caressingly. Then, she knew that there was hope for her… for tonight.

She was going on now, explaining, "… And, that's why I'm being this way… begging you… doing all these crazy things, so you'll… want to make love to me!"

"I didn't know… darling…" he stumbled, "but I'm… really pretty tired…"

He's trying to deny… that he's working up some interest. I saw it… starting to get hard! She knew then that she'd have to go ahead with more of her lewd display.

"Don't I do anything… for you…?" she queried dismally.

"Well…" he hedged. "Not really… yet."

"… And, here's one of the things those old men really like!" Susan breathed.

She lay back, propping herself on her elbows, as she spread her legs wide to expose the whole of her luscious, coral-hued furrow to his surprised and rapidly hungering gaze. Her hands slid down over her hips to either side of her vaginal opening, and with sensuous fingers slowly parted the cuntal lips, edged sparsely with the curling golden down of her pubic hair. "… And, then," she continued breathlessly, "while they come in to get a close-up… they like for me to rub my clitoris… until it's all throbbing and hard… like this…"

Sensuously, her fingers rubbed and caressed the hardened bud of her clitoris, making it swell pulsingly even more as Ron's eyes locked onto the lewd spectacle of his lovely wife fingering herself to arousal.

"Damn!" he gasped. "You'll have to quit!"

"I can't darling… We need the money… remember?"

"But… this is obscene!"

"It gets them all hot, too!" she murmured. "I can see the bulges in their pants that they try to hide from me… just like you're doing right now!"

Then, cat-like, his wife was back up on her knees, and she was tugging at the waistband of his pajamas, pulling them down to expose the rapidly hardening shaft of his massive cock.

Ron didn't object; he helped her to get them off, then quickly removed his tops, as she pulled his bottoms down over his hairy legs.

Before he could make a move toward her, her lithe, vibrantly aroused body was on top of him, her legs spreading then clamping together again, as she trapped the hard shaft of his prick between her thighs and forced it to lie log-like in the moist furrow of her heated cunt.

"There!" she exulted. "I knew you really weren't too tired!" Her lips came down to his, moist and open, wanting his kiss.

Her husband's strong arms went around her, crushing her to his chest and mashing the soft orbs of her breasts, as his tongue lashed into her mouth to probe and taste. "God!" she heard him murmur into her mouth, as his hips flexed upward against her.

Susan couldn't wait any longer. She was too ready… too far gone, and she had waited far too long, already. Writhing from his arms, she straddled his hips, her tiny hand going down to grasp the thick length of his cock's shaft, and with unerring accuracy guided it to the moist warmth of her hungry cuntal mouth.

… Then, eyes already glazing with her built-up passion, she dropped her weight down on him, taking all of her husband's more than adequate cock deep within her vaginal sheath in one movement, his rock-hard cock-flesh ramming up into her vaginal passage to fill her completely and stretching her voracious opening cruelly with the force of her urgent absorption of him. She felt the blood-engorged head of his prick flick painfully past the neck of her womb, and she groaned aloud. "OOooooohhh!"

"AAaaauggh!" Ron yelped. "Take it easy!"

The unexpected pain she had caused him was replaced almost immediately with a burning desire for her, a desire he had thought impossible just moments before, when his fatigue had ousted all thoughts of sexual pleasure from his mind. Ron moaned aloud again, as he flexed his hips upward against her to drive the pulsing shaft of his cock farther up into her clinging cuntal sheath, feeling the silky softness of her moist passage and reveling in the feel of her as her pussy enveloped him with throbbing, searingly hot flesh, while above him, poised on hands and knees her body began to squirm and writhe uncontrollably.

"Oh, God… Ron, darling! It feels soooooo good… so hard and nice… up inside me!" she cooed, her voice choking throatily.

A strange wildness was in her then, as she began to move above him with an uninhibited abandon so unlike her usual self, her hips rotating around and around, while at the same time she rocked back against him to drive her demanding cunt up and down the rock-hardness of her husband's cock, absorbing all of his length and breadth deep up into the velvety softness of her with each plunging stroke.

The reversal of roles didn't bother her. She was much too interested in driving herself toward her already imminent orgasm. The freedom to move, to determine her own tempo, to fuck herself back against her husband's massive cock was an exhilarating feeling. It was almost as though she were raping him… if such is possible for a woman to do, for she was single-minded in what she was doing. She had to cum… and soon! Oh, God! The waiting is over! Thank God! "Oh, Ron, darling… I love you!" she moaned.

Like a bareback rider riding a bucking horse at a rodeo, Susan rode and fucked her husband her naked buttocks writhing and pounding against him, rising and falling undulantly, her breasts dancing rhythmically down against the hairiness of his chest, the nipples spiking into his flesh and her soft belly rubbing against his abdominal and pubic hair, as she leaned forward and down to take even more of him deeply up into her hotly absorbing cunt.

Her assault had been so fast and furious that Ron could only hold himself rigid, now, allowing her to move on him, fucking him… fucking herself, as her moist, heated cuntal passage slid up and down his hardened, throbbing cock, completely out of control. He couldn't match her wild beat, so he merely raised his hips higher, offering her all of his length for her pleasure… and his! Christ! She's fucking… like a mink! Somehow, he couldn't object to it… even though he was in a completely unaccustomed position, on the bottom. Hell! The way she's going after it… I'll be cumming… in just a little while, too! The wild, uncontrolled pumping of her hips told him that his wife was almost ready to cum.

With her breath rasping pantingly in her lungs, Susan rode her mount down a wild trail of sensation-packed wonderment, until suddenly, she knew that the trail had to end… in her climax. Her ecstatic rapture knew no bounds as she spurred greedily toward that moment of pure joy that had been withheld from her for so many nights.

Ron Merril, beneath his wife, had finally found the countering rhythm of her headlong ride on his stiffened cock and rose to meet her churning loins down against him with forceful, upward thrusts of his own. Deep into her belly he drove his massively hardened cock, burying it farther up inside her clasping cunt than he had ever before, as she spread her knees wide on either side of his hips to absorb all of it to the last smallest fraction of an inch.

Suddenly, lightnings were flashing in her brain as the whole of her pent-up being was brought quiveringly to the brink of her release. Volcanic eruptions were there in her belly waiting to be exploded, shooting forth its molten metal to every part of her salaciously aroused body… but she couldn't cum yet.

"Oh, my God! I'm almost ready to cum!"

"Come on, darling! Cum! Cum! CUM!" Ron encouraged, plunging upward into the moist smoothness of her demanding cuntal sheath.

"I can't… cum… yet! Oh, God! I can't cum!" she whined.

Then, with a desperate, final cunt-ramming motion, she forced his hard shaft deep, deep up into her. She felt it painfully nudging into the far back wall of her vagina… and she was there! God! She came!

"AAAAAaaaaaooooouuuuuggggghhhhh!" she screamed. "IIIII'mmmmm cuuuuummmmmmiiiinnnnnggg! NOW! AAAAAaaaaaggggghhhhh!"

Eyes rolling sightlessly and uncontrollably, her face distorted with the intensity of her rapturous release, Susan folded at the hips and collapsed on top of her husband, spent both physically and emotionally. "Oh, OOOooohhh, that was beautiful, darling," she mumbled. "Just out of this world!"

… But Ron, now, was fully aroused, and he hadn't cum with her. It was his turn now! Several times he thrust up at her, but it wouldn't work. He could feel the clasping of her cunt's walls around the shaft of his aching cock; her dead weight and unmoving body wouldn't allow of a satisfactory copulation for him. "Christ! I've got to cum!" he grated.

Clasping her tightly to him, he rolled over until she was supine, her relaxed body lying under him. As he looked down at her, he saw that her eyes were closed, her face serene and happy.

Then, levering himself up over her on sturdy arms, his throbbing cock still in her, he began to fuck in and out of her moist, silky vaginal tunnel. Her legs flopped down flat on the bed, making an awkward angle for his slamming prick.

He had to have her in a better position. Reaching down, as he leaned back, he pulled her legs up by the knees, then as he moved forward, over her again, he draped them up over his shoulders. That's better!

Pressing her thighs back, until they were mashing down tight against her full-mounded breasts, Ron began pistoning in and out of her with a feral wildness he never could have imagined having just a few short minutes ago.

Susan's eyes opened and she looked up into her husband's lustful face, his eyes blazing with his desire as he pounded in and out of her.

… Then, she felt it; the unmistakable feeling of new arousal flooded through her. God! Could I cum… again…? Yes! She could! She knew she could!

… And, then, her arousal was complete, again. Her hips gyrated beneath her husband's jackhammering cock as delicious sensations flooded through her for the second time within moments.

Ron felt it begin for him. The searing burn of his pent-up sperm, as it beat against its fleshy dam, somewhere back there at the root of his cock, told him that he was going to cum… soon. He redoubled his cunt-plumbing efforts, plunging deep into his wife's pussy like a maniac… and suddenly, he was spewing his semen through the length of his prick to spurt from its slitted tip deep up inside the warm moistness of her vaginal passage. He grunted with animal satisfaction and sprawled on top of her, enjoying completely the feeling of ultimate joy in his spurting cock. "AAAaaaagggh!"

… But, his wife, Susan, straining under him to cum for a second time was dismayed, as he collapsed on top of her, pinning her to the mattress. Desperately, she ground her vibrantly trembling cunt up at his softening cock, moaning with her apprehension. Oh, God! I've got to… cum… again!

With almost superhuman strength, then, she thrust her loins up at him… and she came! "AAAAAaaaaauuuuugggghhh!"

In the silence afterward there was only the sound of labored breathing, until Susan stirred beneath her husband and murmured in wonder, "I came… twice, darling! I came two times in a row!"

"Yeah," he whispered. "You practically exploded!"

"I was really hot… all afternoon!"

"Because of those crazy poses…?"

"Yes… that's what I was trying to tell you… remember?"

"We'll have to do something about that…"

"What do you suggest… short of my quitting the job?"

"Well, honey… it looks like I'm going to be getting a work-out pretty often doesn't it?"

"Yes… if you're going to keep me satisfied!"

"I'll have to get more rest then…"

He rolled to his side and looked at her profile. Damn! I'll have to do something different!

"Maybe you could ease up… maybe drop one of your courses…" Susan suggested.

"Yeah… maybe that's what I'll have to do. I'll talk to the Graduate Dean tomorrow!" His eyes closed serenely, the fatigue and his deep satisfaction claiming him in blessed sleep.

Happily, Susan watched him. She was overjoyed that they had been able to work it out so easily. God! It would have been so easy for me… to do something crazy… like accepting one of those old men's lewd propositions!