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Singapore Affair

Administrator — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 14:24:49 +0000

I heard the shower running and half-awoke, then fell back into
an exhausted sleep. The windows were gray with the first light of
dawn. But then I was again awakened. The windows weren’t much
brighter, but what woke me this time was wetness. To be precise,
June had brought a basic on soapy water and was using a washcloth
to clean my cock. (Remember where it had been last.) She was gentle
and attentive with my tender dick and oh, so meticulous. There was
still some soap film on my cock, but she took care of this. She
disappeared for a moment and when she returned, she was carrying a
bottle of white wine. She arranged a towel like a coffer dam around
my dick and abdomen and used the wine to rinse me. As raw as my
cock still was, the sensation stung and then tingled.
And then the tingling got serious — because June climbed up
on the bed, knelt between my legs and started lightly sucking my
limp schlong. Slowly, gently, she worked my dick in and out of the
plush welcome of her hot, sweet mouth and soft lips. Nothing
happened for a while, but then my prick started swelling in her
mouth.
I managed the strength to reach down and tousle her fine,
short black hair. She looked up at me from between her legs, her
lovely eyes heavy lidded with lust and her lips distended about my
thick cock.
“Come back here and cuddle me,” I told her.
She finally interrupted her cocksucking — but not for long.
“You have given me such pleasure,” she whispered, her breathe hot
on my straining prick. “Now you lay back and don’t move and let me
give you a special treat.”
Special treat? What the hell did she think the madness of the
night before had been?
My cock throbbing redoubled and her cocksucking redoubled.
From time to time she paused to pour more of the wine on my dick
and then resumed her eager sucking.
Then she stopped and sat back on her heels and said, “I
remember you told me how you liked to see a slim girl fuck herself
with a big dildo … ”
SHe shivered, her hard nipples jiggling. Her throat and chest
were turning red. “It makes me itchy to think of what I will do –”
June rammed her cunt back onto the makeshift monster dildo.
She got on all fours, reached down between her legs to heft the big
thing into place against her cunt and then slowly impaled herself
on it. I propped myself up on my elbows to watch inch after inch of
that huge thing get swallowed up in her cunt.
“Oh, darlingggggg….” she said and shook as the pleasure
seized her. When she had reached her limit and what look like two-
thirds of the eighteen-inch prick were encased in her hot cunt, she
rolled her hips around. Her clitoris was immensely swollen and
stuck out at least a half-inch beyond her fine-haired cunt mat.
I couldn’t resist. I wriggled slowly around till I was
perpendicular to her on the bed. I had a great view of her profile
– her firm, taut tits topped by spiked nipples that looked ready
to burst, her slightly rounded little belly heaving with pleasure,
her tightly drawn ass curving down to her thighs — and the big
homemade dildo reaching out from her cunt like an extra, misplaced
appendage.
She lay her head down sideways on me, pressing my cock between
her cheek and my abdomen. “You see, my darling? I want to be the
best at everything that gives you pleasure.”
She reached around with one hand and found the vibrator, then
found a tube of K-Y that hadn’t been squeezed flat. She emptied its
contents on the eight-inch vibrator, then took it and reached back to
put the narrow head against the same tight ass I had fucked just
hours before.
“Oh, it is too much!” she gasped as she pressed it slowly,
steadily into her asshole. “I feel so full, so stuffed, so– so –”
“Fucked.”
Her eyes rolled up in their sockets till only whites showed.
Less than an inch of the vibrator protruded from her asshole. She almost
fell forward then, caught up in the sensations again sweeping through her
insatiable young body. She had to relinquish her tenuous grip on the
vibrator to catch herself, using both arms.
Being a considerate fellow, I promptly reached out with my left hand
and got my fingertips on the base of the vibrator. The tight, slick
vise of her ass was slowly expelling it; I pushed it slowly back in
just as she got her mouth full with my cock again and resumed
sucking.
(A note to you, dear reader [and isn't that quaint?]: Even then I was
using Eveready Alkaline Energizers, because even then, Duracells had a
tendency to be imported from Taiwan or the Antilles or Bangladesh or
somesuch. Not that those lands don’t make good stuff — not at all! — but
such imports tend to sit in Customs warehouse in containers in ports-of
entry for …. oh, however long the importer feels like. After they are
unpacked they get their “freshness” dating. And the fuckin’ things die on
you at crucial moments. Not Eveready Alkalines; those babies are made here,
in our country — you’ve probably heard the name: United States of America
– and are fresh and long-lasting and stay, er, potent for hours! This
concludes Friar Dave’s Consumer Tips for the session. Now resume spanking
your monkey.)
She bobbed her head slowly up and down on my prick. To be honest, I as
surprised I could even feel her lips, let alone her tongue or the insides
of her cheeks — yes, the insides: she was sucking so hard that the velvety
wet flesh on the inside of her cheeks was rubbing the sides of my cockhead.
All the time, mind you, I was letting the vibrator slip about an inch
or so out of her ass and then slowly pushing the little buzzing bugger back
in — while she never stop rolling and rocking her hips on the immense
rubber dildo impaling her cunt.
And she was cumming — of course.
Then, abruptly, she stopped and looked up at me. “I am going
to drink you dry.”
“I’m already dry, honey — ”
“I am going to do it.”
I shook my head. “It’ll take forever after last night — ”
She paused to cum again, then: “Good — I want it to last forever. I
love sucking my darling’s hard cock.”
She put her mouth back on my cock and then she did something that few
women seem to know about. I’ve only known one other, and she was an ex-
hooker, who did it. Believe me, I’ve thought about it and I think I’ve
figured it out. It sounds complicated — hell, maybe it is — but the
effect is cataclysmic on a man’s (at least, on this man’s) self-control. It
goes like this this:
June dropped her head back on my cock. This time she got just
the glans and maybe two inches of the shaft into her lips. She
rolled her tongue against my shaft and flattened her tongue,
creating,essentially, an airtight seal around my cock in her mouth.
Then she sucked again, and pulled her tongue away and down — slowly
and powerfully. The closest analogy I can think of is the way a teething
child will suck his or her thumb, using the tongue to increase the vacuum
(which offers some semblance of relief for the poor strained gum tissues).
But — while June was doing that, she was also pulling her head back
and inch or so at the same time. Suck, pull, return — suck, pull,
return…
After about sixty seconds of that, my balls didn’t care how much
overtime they’d but in the night before; they were ready to bogie.
I started arching up at her even as she was arching up and back to
try to drive the dildo deeper into her cunt and the vibrator deeper
into her little ass. My arching up was fine — but when I started
to pull back, she delivered the final move. She grabbed my hips in
both of her little hands and tried to hold my movements within that
two-inch range she’d established and she began moaning.
It felt like I was cumming forever. The jism seemed to float –
not flow; float — out of me in endless ribbons of pleasure. My
balls were drawn up so tight that they seemed to be trying to
burrow back inside my abdomen. It seemed to last for hours, this
exquisite, almost painful pleasure, but that’s only because it was
so intense that the orgasm literally left me drained and
unconscious.
When I recovered, it wa to the smell of fresh coffee and the sight —
and what a sight! — of a freshly scrubbed, perky June carrying a tray
with fresh java and a pair of cups. June was wearing a green silk kimono.
(Yes, she was from Singapore, a place not known for a love of the Land of
the Rising Yen, but June wasn’t dim; she knew the kimono is the most
comfortable garment devised by the hand of Man for just lounging … and
looking sexy in the process.)
She saw me watching her from atop the thoroughly devastated
bedcovers and put down the tray. Her lips were puffy and her eyes
were shadowed and bloodshot.
She sat beside me.
“Oh, my mouth is sore and my back hurts and I ache down there and in
back — ”
“From doing nice stuff.”
Her nipples were already hardening as she rested her hand lightly on
my limp, sore dick.
“And you are all tired out and reddened from fucking this nice tight
Chinese girl. But — ”
She pressed herself upon me. “It was wonderful, my darling!”
I tried to reply in kind, but then those wonderful lips were
smothering mine.
Her birthday came three days later and that was the day I was going to
give her the ring — or offer, at least. It might seem as if after the
night of debauchery, anything else would be a letdown, but it
wasn’t. If anything, it was even better. There were no walls, now,
no barriers or secrets. Either could tell the other any desire that
would shock or revolt. The wish my not be shared, might not be
acted upon, but there was so much else that was good —
And there was something not so good. Her birthday was the beginning of
the end.
After dinner at I. Angelina’s, a terrific Italian place nearby (where
the regulars were so delighted to see a hetero couple that they kept
sending over drinks), we returned to June’s lovely apartment. I gave her a
birthday gift — a very sexy nighty she’d been admiring in Mistress
Mine — and ws saving the Ring for later.
She’d gotten a lot of cards for her birthday. They were on display all
over the office area and in the living room upstairs. She had surrounded
herself with them, as if to keep her warm despite the distance between
herself and her loving family.
The cards in the office were from business acquaintances and
Jaycee colleagues. Those in the living room and dining room were
from friends and neighbors. Those on the mantle in the bedroom were
the special ones, she explained, and placed mine on in its place.
“Do you mind if I look at these others?”
“Go ahead,” she called back as she started the water running in the
shower. I knew she’d gotten cards from sisters and brothers and from a
cousin, and I was expecting to find one from her boyfriend-boss.
What I wasn’t expecting was that it would be addressed to “My darling
wife” and signed, “Your loving husband.”
She tried to tell me it was just his manner of speech — but when I
demanded to see her working papers and visa, she began to weep. By the time
she handed them over, she was telling me it didn’t matter.
It mattered to me. Her official records didn’t show her last name as
the vowel-less, Singaporean name by which I knew her. They showed her last
name as the same as that of the company’s owner, and believe me, it was as
Scandahoovian as they get. It listed her marital status as M and he
was listed as her spouse.
There aren’t many things in this world that are sacred to me. A free
mind. The word, “Love.” Children. The Bill of Rights. Marriage.
Yeah — marriage. Two people standing up before the world and saying,
“Listen up! For the rest of the only life I’m sure I have … THIS IS THE
ONE. No matter what.” Unless the husband is in the room — hell, in
the bed — saying, “Go ahead and make my sweet-heart feel GOOD!” I
won’t mess with a married or betrothed woman.
No matter how much I care or how innocent I was in trusting her. No
matter how fucked up their marriage or relationship may be or how
strong it is — I won’t do it, not knowingly.
I had to stand by my principle. I had to leave. And my principles said
I couldn’t even tell her to get in touch if and when she got divorced;
that — given what we had — would have been a terrible assault on
her marriage.
So I walked out on the weeping, crying woman who had come to mean
everything to me, the woman who seemed capable of repairing all the
wounds, of healing all the scars, of making right everything that
had gone wrong. I left the ring there, on the mantle. I hurt for a
long time. If time heals all wounds in the way it is supposed to
wound all heels, then I hope she got over me, as well — only
sooner. She deserved better than a stiff-necked throwback like me.
In a sense, I feel good for having had the strength to do the right
thing, because if we don’t do the right thing, then the wrong thing wins
and we all lose — big — in the end. I feel good, because I can look my
own reflection in the eye and know that when it came right down to it, I
had what it takes.
But when I look in the mirror, I don’t see her beside me, with her
impish grin and pug nose and playful mischief. When I look in the mirror,
all I see is me.

Sexy Ann Groupsex

Administrator — Wed, 15 Aug 2007 10:17:45 +0000

You all remember the song called ” The Trolley Car Song” about the turn of the
century where a certain young innocent lady went for a ride and lost her heart
instead. This story takes place in the late nineteen thirty’s up to now. Well
leave me tell you I lost more than my heart or maybe I did not lose anything
but gained a lot instead. I know because I am a lady that went on a trolley
car ride and the same thing happen to me where I saw this tall, handsome young
young gentlemen and just like the song my heart started to reel when I looked
at him. What happened in the song happened to me and as I started to leave the
trolley he took hold of my hand and as if it were grand I stayed on till the
end of the line with his hand holding mine although the funniest feeling
passed over me and I felt a strange twinge between my legs when he took hold
of my hand. It was as if I had touched my own cunny, which I had done a few
times althought good girls aren’t suspose to do those things or even think or
know such words as cunny.

Married Girl Love Affair

Administrator — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 17:22:30 +0000

Not only was it hot, but the fucking humidity was so high that
the slight breeze didn’t dry his skin either. Fucking air
conditioner had the condenser shot, or something. It was
always something.
Damn thing had quit late in the afternoon and he couldn’t get
it fixed until the repairman looked at it in Monday morning.
And it was only Saturday night now.
Norman knew about keys, and locks, and deadbolts. His father
had let him work in the locksmith’s shop since he was about six
years old, teaching and guiding his son.
By the time Norm was in high school, he was making service
calls, re-keying locks, replacing tumblers.
When his dad died, a short six months after his mom, Norm had
taken over the locksmith shop.
He’d married his high school sweetheart, the bitch.
She was never satisfied, always wanted something more for the
house. And she was ashamed that he was a locksmith. She
really felt that she should have married someone of a higher
calibre.
Never mind that he’d done well, now owned three shops, one in
the north end, one south, and one on Miami Beach, and had just
started a new shop in Kendall.
She still wasn’t satisfied.
He’d slowly, over the years, renovated the big old two-story
house until it was a showplace inside.
Still, she wasn’t satisfied, and Norm, to keep away from her,
had turned a large room on the upper floor, into a gym.
He’d been working out in the second floor room of his
house, pumping on the small weights, getting the sweat
working (no pain – no gain), thinking about his wife again.
The bitch had just about quit fucking, wasn’t interested
anymore, and always either had a fucking headache or was on
her period or something. He’d tried to pat her rounded ass
this morning as she was frying up a couple eggs at the
stove for his breakfast, and she’d moved away from his
patting hand and slipped him an annoyed look.
“Don’t. I’m cooking. Can’t you see I’m busy, Norman?”
The anger in her voice had turned him off. She was always
angry lately.
She really was a sexy looking bitch, in a sullen kind of way,
but after the first few passionate years of their mariage,
she’d slowed down in the sex department. But now she’d
stopped fucking – quit – end.
It had all started when he’d gotten caught kissing Christy,
the wife of the auto salesman next door, at a birthday
party a month ago for Al’s wife, Christy.
Christy was a sexy cunt, and Al, her husband, was a heavy
drinking party type who’d invited them over for his wife’s
birthday on a Saturday night. There had been several other
people there too, and Norm had followed her into the kitchen.
She’d stuck her tongue in his mouth when he’d given her a
birthday kiss when he and his wife had come in the front
door. Norm knew, or thought he’d known that she was a hot
bitch when he felt her tongue slither into his mouth.
His cock had warmed up and swelled while she had slowly
french kissed him, right in front of his wife and her
husband.
Norm had followed her into the kitchen later, and had
patted her ass as she was trying to get some glasses from a
high shelf in the cupboard. Her sleek ass, rounded under
the slick material of her dress, had turned him on even
more, and he’d patted the firm globes.
She’d turned her head, smiled at him, and wiggled.
“Like that, don’t you?” she’d giggled at him.
“Love it!”
“If you loved it, you’d lick it!” She’d wiggled away from
his patting hand, but when he’d stepped back, she’d moved
to him and looking up into his eyes, grinning at him.
“Take it easy neighbor. It’s early, and even though I’m
really in the mood, my husband and your wife are in the
next room. Slow down!”
“Just being neighborly.”
Norm had grinned back at her.
“I’ll bet just how neighborly you’d like to get!” Christy
answered him, then had thrown her arms around his neck and
given him another kiss with her hot slithering tongue
thrusting around his.
Just as he was really feeling the globes of her ass, she
pulled free, grinned at him and took the glasses back to
the bar in the den. Norm following, his cock throbbing
hard.
Gathered at the small bar, Norm had had a couple of drinks
during the early evening, and had noticed Al pouring the
scotch’s down. Al getting louder, the jokes getting more
raunchy. Al, paying a lot of attention to Norm’s wife,
putting an arm around her, whispering in her ear sometimes,
and Norm’s wife giggling pushing him away playfully, but
her eyes were bright and her face was smiling at the
raunchy jokes.
Norm could see Al’s arm around her, fingers resting under her
breast, slowly kneading, sneaking a feel. Lot of good it was
going to do him, Norm smiled to himself. She looked hot and
sexy, but looks weren’t everything. She’d turned into a cold
fish.
Norm had a fresh ice cube in his highball, and had settled
down on the couch, listening to the conversation, when
Christy had crocked her finger at him from across the room,
then putting the same finger to her pursed lips, had
indicated that he keep quiet, and come to her.
He’s set the glass down, and quietly moved around the
standing guests, moving to follow Christy down the hall.
Norm had caught up with her outside the bathroom in the
dark hallway.
“You want something?” His voice low.
“I just wanted to tell you that when you’re working on your
weights at night with the lights on, sometimes I watch you
from our window in the dark.”
“You do?”
“Yes, and as a birthday present, next time you work out,
can you work nude instead of wearing those shorts?”
“You want me to take off my shorts while you watch me?” His
voice almost cracking.
“You’ll never be sure if I’m watching or not, my lights will
be off. Will you do it for me?”
“Sure, if that’s what you want.”
She’d thrown her arms around his neck, grinding her body
against his, her tits putting the points of her nipples into
his chest, his arms around her, squeezing her ass, pulling
her hips up against his groin, when his wife had tapped him
on the shoulder.
“That’s enough! Don’t you think?” Her voice angry.
She’s stalked off, back into the living room, leaving the two
of them.
“Whoops, I think you fucked-up!” Christy giggled at him,
turning and entering the bathroom, closing the door, and he
heard the lock click.
“Fuck her, she’ll get over it!”
His voice soft against the door, fingers testing the knob to
find it locked.
Stupid, locking the door against a locksmith.
Pulling his key ring from his pants, he selected a slim metal
strip of a key, inserted it into the hole in the center of
the bathroom door, turning it slowly, feeling the lock
unlatch. He’d eased the door open, seeing her standing at the
wash basin, putting on lipstick, and he’d moved inside.
Christy had grinned at him.
“I didn’t think that lock would stop you, did you come in to
watch me pee?”
“No, I came in because I need to pee.”
“Go ahead, don’t let me stop you. Need a hand?”
“Please.”
He’d opened his fly, pulling his semi-hard dick out, standing
in front of the bowl.
“Want to aim it?”
“I don’t think so, I’ve never been too interested in the water
sports.”
“Hell Christy, this isn’t water sports, it’s just giving a
friend a hand.”
Christy had grinned at him, giggled and then taken his roll
in her hand, pulling slightly until he was all the way out.
The feel of her warm hand on his cock was fantastic! Christy
moving the soft skin back from the bulbous head.
“Alright, here I go.”
He’d started pissing, the hot stream splashing in the bowl as
she grew even more adventuresome, moving the tip in circles,
watching his liquid hit the water in the bowl.
That’s when the unlocked door had opened, and his wife was
standing there, with Al behind her, watching Christy holding
his cock in her hand while he pissed.
That had really started all the trouble between himself and
his wife.
Now she was making him suffer, and wasn’t letting up at all.
They hadn’t made it once since then, and she’d been stiff and
unresponsive to him.
If it hadn’t been for the little cunt he’d had while he was
installing locks on the glass doors last week, he’d have had
no pussy at all since before the party.
That was a good fuck. The lady had tormented him with her
body, letting him see her both in a bathing suit, and nude,
and then he’d fucked and sucked her.
If he didn’t start getting some pussy pretty soon, he was
going to go back and fuck her again.
He’d have to look up her name and address again in the
receipts, maybe give her a call and tell her that he needed
to inspect her locks again, and see what she’d say.
His mind had drifted while he continued counting to one
hundred, curling the small weights, feeling the sweat
starting to trickle into his eyes, past his head-band.
Thinking about Christy, he wondered if she really had watched
him work out.
His wife never came into the room while he was working out.
She said she didn’t like the smell here. Prissy bitch.
He always closed the door when he worked out. Glancing at it
now, he wondered if he ought to take off his shorts and work
out nude, like Christy had asked him to.
He moved to the window, looking at the house next door. The
lights were on in the living room, but the upstairs windows
were dark and he couldn’t see inside the upper rooms.
Standing close to the window, peering down at his neighbors
patio, he caught a shadow. Al was bringing a drink from the
bar, and Christy’s bare leg was in view, sitting at the table
on a stool. Norm couldn’t see any more of her, but he could
hear through his open window.
Al’s speech was slurred, and while Norm idly continued
pumping the small weight in his right hand, Christy’s voice
carried to his window.
“Go on and get some sleep, I’ll be up later.”
Al had moved out of his vision and the upstairs bedroom light
at the corner of the house had illuminated moments later.
Norm put the weight down, moved to the hallway, opening their
bedroom door quietly, glancing in, seeing his wife’s nude
body lying on top of the sheet, trying to sleep in the heat.
Sexy bitch, all tousled from the heat.
Norm lightly ran down the steps, out the back door, standing
on the cement, had lit a cigarette.
“Hi neighbor.” Christy’s low voice from over the fence.
“Hi Christy, where’s Al?”
“Drunk, going to bed. What are you doing out here this time
of night, where’s your wife?”
“Sleeping. I’m just going to work out another half hour or
so, and then I’m off to bed.” Trailing the bait, seeing if
she was still interested.
“Maybe I’ll watch tonight!” She was interested. “Are you
going to make it worthwhile watching and take off your
shorts?”
“I will if you will.”
“Deal! See you in the upstairs.” She’d grabbed her glass from
the table and went back inside her house, and Norm flipped
the butt away and re-entered his back door.
He’d slipped off his shorts, leaving his head-band in place,
closed the door to his room and picked up the hand squeezers,
springs clutching in his grasp, corded muscles standing out
on his forearms as he rhymically squeezed, standing naked
square in front of the window, watching the darkened window
next door, only feet from him.
Was she there watching? He couldn’t see anything of her.
There was only a bit of light from the hallway into her room,
and she was not visible to Norm’s scan.
Where was she?
He worked out slowly, watching, trying to make out her form
behind the glass of her window, to no avail. Waiting to see
if she was watching him.
The time went slowly, attempting to get some sign behind the
dark window that she was there.
Norm, moved away from his window, trying to draw her forward
into the dim light spilling from his window.
Finally, pissed that he couldn’t see her, he moved to his
side, and then opening the door, snuck down the hallway to
their dark guest room, going to the window looking out at an
angle to see if he could see her from this dark room.
No luck in the facing room, but his eyes were caught by a
movement in his neighbor’s bedroom.
Christy was giving her husband a blow job, lights on,
blazing, drapes drawn wide open, the room bathed in light as
she crouched over her husband Al, sucking at the roll between
his thighs.
Norm knew she was putting a show on for him, and his cock
rose level with the window sill, watching her attempting to
harden her husband’s meaty cock.
Too much to drink again, his flacid dick lolled around in her
hand, the end drooping over her closed fist, dangling.
Norm moved closer to the window, watching her glance over the
soft meat in her hand at his room, knowing that she was
attempting to see him watching her, but aware now how
difficult it was to see him standing behind a dark window.
Christy moved to the near side of the bed, presenting her
rounded ass to Norm, crouched over her husband’s supine body,
wriggling the rounded globes of her soft ass at the window.
Norm could see the dark blonde hair between her thighs, the
puffy lips of her pussy softly nestled there, and the pink
inner lips parting slightly to show a coral hued band of
swelling flesh.
Her long hair brushing over her husband’s belly as she
attempted to suck him to an erect state.
Finally, giving up her task, Christy, stood away from the
bed, and her passed out husband, standing full in the light
and nodding at his form against the blackness of the dark
window.
Not really knowing if he’d been watching her or not.
Christy left the bedroom, turning out the lights as she
departed.
Norm hurried, hard cock swinging from side to side, back into
his workout room, closing the door behind him, to see the
lights in the opposite room illuminate the inside.
Christy standing to the window, looking straight at him.
Norm moved closer, his dick, hard and pounding, pressed the
wet tip against the window, smearing a drop of slippery honey
against the cool glass, staring at Christy’s naked body in
lust.
Her fingers dipped into her thighs, moving over the curls,
dipping into the sweet wetness of her pussy, then gathering a
bit of her female juices, drew a straight line of wetness on
the glass from inside her room.
Norm’s cock pounded, the tip wetter now, a line of veins
standing out from the corded shaft as he grasped his cock,
pumping slowly, watching Christy playing with herself, for
him.
His hardened cock, rapidly stroked, drooled more of the
slippery juice to the window, while Christy’s fingers toyed
with her visible clitoris, her other hand moving over her
breast, peaking the nipple, fondling the quivering flesh.
Norm felt his balls tighten, drawing up to the base of his
cock, knowing he was about to spurt his sperm as he watched
Christy put on a masturbation show for him.
The firey liquid spurted, out the slitted tip, globs catching
and clinging to the middle of the window, running down in
streams as his torrent of sperm caught and held to the cold
glass while his eyes were fastened to the junction between
Christy’s thighs.
Her fingers, slippery and wet, glinted in the light as she
moved them rapidly over her clit, then sagging as her orgasm
shuddered her body, moving her breasts in quivers.
Norm’s prick erupted again, more of his hot sperm clinging to
the window, until the force of his ejactulation gone, his
cock drooled the last thin stream straight down, to the
floor.
Grabbing his shorts, Norm wiped the sticky sperm from his
cock, tossing his shorts into the corner for washing later.
Raising his eyes back to the window, he saw the lights go
out.
His voyeurs stint over.
Norm, still breathing heavily, crawled on top of the sheets
in his bed, staying away from his wife’s body, turning over
to lie on his side, still thinking about Christy, her body,
and the show she’d made for both of them.
Eyes closed, thinking about tomorrow night, and about how to
get Christy alone so he could fuck her.
His cock slowly began filling again, lying hard against his
belly as he drifted off into sleep.