"Naughty nympho wife" - читать интересную книгу автора (Allen Donna)

CHAPTER TWO

She was in a blue funk of guilt for three days. She was thankful Al Gorman stayed away from the gallery. Then finally Martin was home again and Candice told herself the best thing was not to think of Al Gorman. What she had to do was think of Martin.

She still loved him. He was still her husband. He was still the man whose company she enjoyed most. She felt so guilty about cheating. She argued with herself about it. One side of her head reminded her she'd been alone at the party that night, alone and depressed and vulnerable to Al's advances. She couldn't be blamed for being so vulnerable. But the other side of her head said she wasn't a child, she ought to be responsible for her actions.

The second night Martin was home, she talked him into taking her out to dinner. He wasn't that eager for it, but she kept insisting until he agreed. They dressed and went out to a quiet restaurant. They had a few drinks and during the meal Martin seemed more relaxed.

Candice thought Martin looked tired. She thought maybe he was working too hard. He seemed to be down both physically and mentally. She tried talking to him about it, questioning him about how he felt and about his job.

"The job's okay," he said. "But you might as well know that I'll be out of town again in a few days."

Candice groaned. "Oh Martin."

"That's the ballgame."

"I hardly see you anymore."

"Look, we've talked about it."

"I hate being alone at night."

So they talked about it again. All the old arguments for and against his job. The money was too good for him to leave.

"You can find some way to keep busy in the evening without me," he said. "If you want to get out, there's always Frank."

"Frank?"

"Yes. Frank. I'll tell Frank to take you out to dinner sometimes."

Frank Mason was Martin's best friend. They'd been friends for years, ever since they'd been at college together. Candice hadn't seen much of Frank since Frank's divorce.

"I think you ought to get another job."

"Candice, I can't get another job. Now now. It's not the right time for it. Maybe in six months, but not now."

She decided not to dwell on it. It would serve no purpose to have an argument with him about it. He would do what he wanted anyway. He was building a career, and if she was lonely on occasion he couldn't see that as reason enough to make a severe change in his plans.

"I want chocolate mousse for dessert," she said. "I want something suicidal."

Martin laughed. "Now you're talking. After chocolate mousse you'll be in a good mood again."

She was determined to enjoy the evening. She had the mousse and then coffee, and then after that she held his arm as they walked out of the restaurant to the car.

"That was good," Martin said.

"Let's make some whoopie when we get home."

He chuckled. "Sure, why not?"

You've got to work at it, she thought. A marriage doesn't make itself good, you've got to work at it.

When they arrived home, she left him in the living room and she went upstairs to change her clothes. After she had her clothes off, she decided to wear nothing at all, except maybe a pair of shoes. She liked the way her legs looked when she wore heels. She went downstairs wearing nothing but, a pair of high-heeled sandals. Martin whistled when he saw her. "Oh boy."

"Do you like my shoes? I just bought them yesterday."

"I like the shoes and all the rest of it."

But he didn't seem that enthusiastic and it worried her. She went to the bar and poured some vodka into two glasses. She added an ice cube to each glass and carried them back to where he was sitting.

"Martin, do I still turn you on?"

He looked at her as she handed him his drink. Her tits were hanging over his face. He reached up and took hold of one, his hand cupping the tit and pulling at her nipple. "What do you think?"

"I don't know, I'm asking."

He put his drink down. He made her put one foot up on the sofa next to him and he slid his hand along the inside of her thigh until he found her cunt-lips. He began tickling his fingers in her cunt, probing between her cunt-lips to touch her cunt-hole and then her clit. He had a good touch. She closed her eyes and quivered as he worked his fingers over the outside of her cunt.

"Nice pussy," he said.

"Do you still like it?"

"You know I do."

She sipped her drink, standing there while he played with her pussy. Then she finally put her drink down and she sat down next to him. She unzipped his fly and brought his cock out.

"Here's the big prick!" she said with a giggle. The booze was getting to her, yes, he did have a big prick. She adored his cock. His cock-head was magnificent, a fat juicy plum of a cock-knob, the rim sharply sculptured and the helmet shape perfect. It was the sort of cock she'd dreamed about as a girl and now she had a husband who had exactly what she wanted. If only they could get the knots out of their marriage.

Focus on the cock, she thought. Forget about the knots and Martin and Al Gorman. Focus on the cock.

She rubbed her thumb over his piss-hole, spread his fuck-juice around his fuck-knob.

"Take your pants off," she said. "I'm going to suck this thing."

"Let's go upstairs. Let's get on a bed."

"No, down here first. I want to suck it down here."

He did what she wanted. He slipped his pants and shorts down to his ankles and she bent over him and took his cock in her mouth. She sucked on his cock-knob as though it was a lollipop. She loved the taste of it. She loved the feel of his hot flesh in her mouth. He patted her head, ran his fingers over her neck and told her how much he liked it.

We're good together, she thought.

She tried to remember how many times she'd sucked his cock during the six years of their marriage. Maybe a thousand. A thousand sucks and a thousand fucks. She touched his balls. The sac was tight and she guessed he was close to coming. She didn't want him coming in her mouth. She wanted a hot fuck and if he came in her mouth she guessed he'd be finished. She pulled her mouth off his cock and told him now they could go upstairs.

"I want this salami in my cunt," she said. He chuckled as he rose. "You never called it that before!"

She blushed and avoided his eyes. "It's a big salami!" The word came from Al Gorman. That night at the party, Al had called his cock a salami. She wanted to kick herself for using it with Martin.

They went upstairs together. In the bedroom they undressed and Martin walked into the bathroom and closed the door. Candice lay on the bed waiting for him. She was so hot. Sucking his cock always turned her on. She slipped her fingers between her cunt-lips to feel her fuck-juices. She was soaked, all right. Her clit was stiff. She rubbed up and down the side of her clit and pulled the foreskin back to expose the tiny knob.

When Martin came out of the bathroom, he found her with her fingers in her cunt. She made no attempt to pull her hand away. She opened her legs even further and rubbed her cunt while he watched her.

"Fuck me, Martin!"

He was on her in a few moments, mounting her, climbing between her raised legs to get his cock in her cunt. She groaned when she felt his cock-knob push inside. She rocked her knees and told him to fuck her.

It was not one of their best nights. She could tell Martin was too tired. He went through the motions, but she could tell he wasn't that excited by it. She tried to get the angle right so she could get some friction on her clit. But then Martin was coming and what happened for her wasn't much of anything. One more boring fuck. She held onto him as he dumped his come in her cunt. Then he was finished and he grunted as he pulled out and rolled off her body. Don't cry, she thought. She wanted to cry but she knew she shouldn't. Fucking Martin wasn't nearly as exciting as fucking Al Gorman.

Later, when Martin was asleep, she rose up and left the bedroom. She was too restless to sleep. She went down to the living room, turned on the TV and sat watching it in the dark. She kept the sound low. Let Martin sleep. He'd blown his rocks off in her cunt and that's all he cared about. Then she told herself it was her own fault because she'd been the one who'd suggested they fuck. She'd asked him to fuck her and he'd fucked her. What more did she want?

What she wanted was what she'd had from Al Gorman, some excitement in the fucking and the big bang at the end in her pussy. She touched her cunt now. She was still swollen from the fucking with Martin. She closed her eyes and thought of Al Gorman. That party. The two of them wrestling on the bed in the dark. His hairy balls. She frigged her clit. She wondered what it would feel like to suck Al Gorman's hairy balls. She came like that, thinking about Al Gorman's balls, her fingers diddling her cunt as she quivered on the sofa. On the TV some jerk was selling floor wax. She stuck three fingers in her cunt and started working herself up again.

A few days after Martin left town again, his friend Frank Mason showed up at the gallery. Candice hadn't expected him. She thought maybe he'd call, but she didn't think he would come to the gallery. She hadn't seen him in some time and she was surprised at how well he looked.

"Divorce seems to agree with you," she said. Frank laughed. "It's like a monkey off my back!" He sold real estate and he was doing well. He looked around the gallery awhile, and then he came back to Candice. "Martin wants me to look after you."

"I don't need looking after, Frank. I'm a big girl and I can look after myself."

"Sure, sure, but in the meantime you can go out to dinner with me and we can both look after ourselves at the same table."

They bantered about it. She quivered when she realized he was looking at her tits. She was wearing a silk blouse and her tits were prominent. Frank was always open in the way he looked at her. Even when he'd been married, he'd never tried to hide his interest. Only now it seemed to mean something more. Maybe it was because of Al Gorman. She'd broken the ice now, she'd fucked someone besides Martin. She had a sudden heat in her belly as she realized she wouldn't mind fucking Frank Mason.

Candice, you're crazy, she thought, he's Martin's best friend. It was one thing for Frank to look at her tits, it was something else to fuck her. She was sure he wouldn't go that far. Frank and Martin had known each other so long.

She finally agreed to go out to dinner with him that evening. "We split the check."

Frank shook his head. "The hell we will! You're my date!"

He walked out after that. She watched him go and wondered what it would be like to fuck him. She liked the way he walked. She wondered what his ass looked like when he was naked.

Candice, you're terrible, she thought.

She'd never looked at Frank like that before. It was all Martin's fault. They'd had such a lousy fuck last night and she was still horny. She was a horny little girl and Frank Mason's ass was looking very good.

It took a while for her to calm down, but then suddenly Al Gorman came into the gallery dragging one of his paintings. He put the painting in the back room and then he came out to her desk and looked down at her with a grin. "I've been thinking about you."

"Don't think too hard, it might ruin your career."

She was embarrassed as they talked. This was the man she'd fucked just a few days ago. He'd sucked her cunt and then she'd sucked his cock and then he'd fucked her brains out on a strange bed. He was standing there so close to her, he almost had his crotch in her face. She trembled as she remembered the taste of his cock in her mouth.

"You're a tough cookie," he said.

"I'm not tough, I'm married. And I want to stay married."

"Okay, okay."

He turned away from her and started talking about his work. Suddenly the sexual interest was gone and he was all business. She found herself unhappy about it. In the back of her mind she'd hoped he'd ask to see her again. She might be willing if they could do it carefully. But he seemed uninterested now. They were back to where things had been in the past. They'd fucked just once and she guessed that, as far as he was concerned, it was nothing special.

Poor little Candice, she thought. She was always so stupid with men. She was happy when Al finally left the gallery. She didn't care about his new painting. He could take his damn painting and stick it up his hairy asshole. At five-thirty she closed the gallery and went home to get ready for Frank.

When she arrived at the house, the first thing she did was mix herself a martini. Then, after looking through the mail and finishing half the martini, she stripped her clothes off and climbed into the shower. Once the water hit her, she felt better. She started thinking about Frank Mason. She wondered about him as she lathered her body with soap. She found herself doing more than just getting soap on her skip. Lathering her tits worked her up a little, and then when she did her pussy the effect was even greater. She was horny. She could feel the tension in her pussy and the stiffness of her nipples confirmed it.

Later, when she dressed for the evening, she became turned on again. This time she decided to do something about it. She stood in front of her vanity table with one foot on the bench and masturbated while she watched herself in the mirror. She liked to do it like this, watching her cunt get whacked off in a mirror. She could see her fuck-juices glistening on her fingers.

It didn't take long. She rubbed all of her cunt until she was close to coming and then she used two fingers directly on the shaft of her clit to finish it. She moaned and pumped her ass as she came. She could easily climax two or three more times, but she stopped right there.

You're a horny little girl, she thought. Was she becoming a nympho? She'd never been so obsessed with sex before. Then she told herself she wasn't obsessed at all, she was just a normal woman with normal needs. It wasn't her fault Martin had lost interest in her. Other men still found her attractive and sexy. Martin's best friend certainly looked at her as though he was interested.

She decided to wear the black pumps with stiletto heels. She found some smoke-colored pantyhose and pulled them on. She wondered what Frank was like in bed. You couldn't tell much about a man just by looking at him.

People always had two personalities, the one you knew and the one they fucked with. Maybe the one they fucked with was the real person and the other one just an act. She often felt that way about herself. The way she was in bed was closer to what she was and what she wanted to be.

She thought about Frank fucking her and it made her hot again. No, she wouldn't whack off any more. She forced herself to think about something else. She turned the TV on and watched a stupid sitcom until finally the doorbell rang and Frank was there. With a sigh of relief, she grabbed her purse and went to meet him. He had a smile for her when she opened the door.

"Right on time," he said. "Don't you like that? Don't you like a man to be punctual?"

Candice teased him. "Two minutes late." She closed and locked the front door, took his arm and walked with him out to his car.

They talked about where to go and finally decided on a steak house. When they arrived, they had a drink at the bar first. Frank complimented Candice on her appearance.

"You're a knockout," he said. "I always thought Martin was a lucky guy." He looked her over as they sat beside each other on the bar stools. "Great body. Great legs. Honest, Candice, your legs bring out the beast in me!" Candice chuckled. "I never knew you liked my legs that much."

"I like the rest of it, too!"

"But you're what they call a leg man."

"Yeah, I guess so. High heels, nylons, garterbelts."

"Do men really get turned on by those things?"

"This man does."

In a short while they entered the dining room and sat down. Candice was happy. It was nice to be out with Frank. She liked the way he talked and she liked the way he looked. She felt good. Maybe it was because she had no reason to feel guilty. The whole thing was Martin's idea. He was the one who had told Frank to take her out. Well, here they were doing what Martin wanted.

She'd always liked Frank. She'd always thought he was sexy. She was glad that she'd worn the pumps with stiletto heels. They did make her legs look good.

"Tell me about your love-life," she said. Frank chuckled. "I'm not retired yet."

"I think you'll get married again."

"The hell I will. At least not for a long time." She wanted to ask him about his women. Did they all have nice legs? Did they wear garterbelts? Did he fuck them while they had their nylons on? Men were really so strange. They all had their little quirks. Martin had a thing about her mouth. He said watching her mouth on his cock was the most exciting thing in the world. He said when they'd first met it was her mouth that had got to him. Maybe it was just a line, but she liked it. She liked the idea that Frank was crazy about her legs.

After the meal was finished, she talked Frank into coming back to the house for drinks. He wanted to find a disco somewhere, but she said she was too tired. And she was. She'd worked hard all day and tomorrow she'd be at work again.

"I'll be more comfortable at home," she said. When they were inside the house, she went to the bar to fix a drink for each of them. Frank came up behind her and kissed her neck. Just a light kiss at first, and then he pressed against her back and kissed her neck with more conviction.

She quivered under the kiss. She couldn't help leaning back against him. "Frank, you're his best friend."

"So what."

She said nothing more. She had no idea what to say and there was nothing she wanted to say. She turned around and in a moment she was in his arms and he was kissing her mouth.

A thrill ran through her when his hands moved over her body. In all the years of knowing him, this was the first time he had ever touched her. He moved both hands between them to cup and squeeze her tits through her dress. Then his hands dropped down to her waist and around to her ass. He cupped her asscheeks, squeezing and rolling them gently.

She moaned under his mouth and pressed against him. She could feel his cock against her belly, the hardness of his prick pushing at her. She wanted to touch him but she held back. His hands felt so good on her ass. Then he whispered in her ear: "Let's get our clothes off."

She said nothing. She was afraid to break the spell. Like two dancers in a choreographed duet, they faced each other and stripped their clothes off. Right there in the living room with all the lights on. The two drinks she'd mixed were still standing on the bar. Frank had seen her in a bikini a few times, but of course he'd never seen her naked. Now she was naked in front of him. And he was naked in front of her.

He had a nice body, lean and muscled. His cock was erect and it looked delicious. He had a long circumcised cock and she was amused and excited by the way it curved to one side. His balls were drawn up tight under the base of his cock-shaft.

Frank noticed the way she looked at his cock. He curled his fingers around his cockshaft and slowly stroked it. "Meet Frank Mason."

"Mmmm, I like it!"

"And I like you!"

She blushed as he looked her over. Somehow it felt so perfect to be standing there naked in front of him while he inspected her body. She watched his cock weaving back and forth and it tuned her on.

"Now the other side," he said.

She looked at him. "The other side?"

"Your ass. Turn around and show me your ass."

She quivered with excitement as she turned her back to him. "It's not my best feature."

"The hell you say."

"I thought you said you were a leg man!"

"I'm an ass man, too. Christ, what an ass, Candice. It's perfect!"

"I don't believe you."

Suddenly he was down there behind her, kissing her ass, running his tongue in her ass-crack.

She groaned and trembled at the feel of his lips. "What are you doing?"

He paid no attention to her. For a moment she thought she'd lose her balance and fall down. His mouth was all over her ass, around and then inside her ass-crack. He pulled her asscheeks apart with his hands and lapped his tongue up and down in the deep valley between them. A shudder ran through her as she felt the wetness of his mouth. She bent forward. She grabbed hold of the bar, bent forward and moved her legs apart. All right, do it, she thought. No one had ever done it before, but now she wanted it. She groaned as she felt his lips and tongue against her asshole.

"Oh Frank!"

Yes, he was doing it. She could feel his wet tongue lapping her asshole. She couldn't help wiggling. She thought it was so lewd to wiggle her ass while a man was kissing her like that, but she couldn't help it. The feel of it, the idea that he had his tongue back there, was driving her crazy.

"Frank, please stop!"

"Just hold still a moment!"

"It's too much."

"Just hold still!"

And then she felt it. His tongue pushing inside, drilling inside her asshole like a wet snake. The feeling was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Not like a finger. A finger was hard and unyielding. Frank's tongue was something else. She loved it. She folded her arms on the bar and rested her head on them. She pushed her ass back at Frank's mouth to get more of his tongue inside her ass.

"Oh, that's awful!" she said with a groan. His tongue in her asshole. Frank Mason's tongue up her ass. This certainly wasn't what Martin had in mind. She giggled at the thought. No, this was certainly not what Martin had been thinking about.

Frank finally pulled his face away from her ass and rose up. He took her arm and they hurried to the sofa. She lay down on her back expecting he would mount her and fuck her, but he told her to turn over and get on her knees.

She did what he wanted. At first she was afraid he would try to put his cock up her ass, but then she felt his cock-knob pushing at her cunt-hole and she relaxed. He just wanted to fuck her from behind. She liked the position. Martin never did it that much, even though she always liked it.

She and Frank both groaned when his cock slid inside her cunt. She shuddered as she felt his long curved cock sliding inside her cunt channel. It was like being stabbed with a long curved sword.

You're crazy, she thought. He was fucking her with a cock, not a sword. Sword or no sword, she loved it. She didn't care that it didn't last too long. Frank fucked away in her cunt, his belly slapping against her ass, and then he grunted and started shooting his jism in her pussy.

"Christ, you're a great fuck," he said. "I've been wanting to do this for years!"

And he was a great fuck, too. She hadn't thought that long about fucking him, but now that they were doing it she was in heaven.