17 comments/ 82138 views/ 18 favorites Playmate of the Year: Love-Match By: didier Brett had come back for the summer break, expecting to tour with his all-too famous father, Jim. It wasn't working out too well. It had been almost two decades since Jim had ruled the tennis courts, but if Jim couldn't lord and master it over the contemporary sports world, he certainly could over his own family. But not even this was enough for Jim. On the one hand, even his family were trophies: his wife Patti was one of Playboy's most popular Playmates-of-the-Year; the two were rich, and they had two handsome children. On the other hand, Jim was forever seeking new victories, new wins, and new conquests. This often meant new women--many new women. Jim would often undertake "elder statesmen" tours with fellow court champions of his era; the money was good, but hardly required. Yet, on the road for sometimes weeks at a time, the fading star could indulge his competitive "spirit" with the hangers-on, the reporters, the groupies, and the bored "women-who-do-lunch," all girls ready to hit a few balls, go a few rounds, enter the match, so to speak, with a living legend. Patti, his wife, suspected her husband of his new "court" matches, but felt powerless to prove them---or stop them. Jim still admired his trophy wife, Patti. True, she had put on just a few pounds since her reign as Playmate of the Year so many years ago. Yet, Jim loved "owning" his PMOY trophy; her lips were still red, full, and wicked; her tummy flat but womanly; her hips full, firm, and begging for a slapping; her breasts full, firm, and topped off by luscious long nipples; her legs were lasciviously long, and from her pretty, high-arched feet, they soared upward to her still full, thick, and succulent pussy bush. She was still incredibly hot; she looked great in her bikini underwear, spreading her long legs wide as she lay down on their marriage bed. Maybe Patti was even hotter, sexier, and more enticing since she was a mother of two college-aged children. But Jim really didn't feel the heat, the pulsing hunger for anymore, if he ever really did. Truth be told, he felt that part of his drive--like his tennis championship---slipping more and more into the past. Perhaps this drove the "competitive" compulsion of his new "court matches." He knew Patti often suffered silently: the humiliations of his indiscretions, the lack of sexual interest on his part, perhaps even the fear that she no longer had the raw, brilliant, erotic beauty of her Playmate-of-the-Year days. But what did it matter? Jim thought. She's mine, and she'll always be faithful. Period. Besides, no suitor, no rival, no man could challenge him over his trophy PMOY wife; he was Jimmy the Great, the now middle-aged enfant terrible cum "elder statesman." While Jim felt very comfortable with his position as Lord God Master of the House, at least as far as his daughter and trophy wife were concerned, his son Brett was something of a dark horse. To Jim, Brett always seemed too "sensitive," perhaps too "intellectual," and there was something slightly effeminate, or "mama's boyish" about him. It also irritated Jim that Brett seemed to know of and disapprove, in a "slightly effeminate" and "intellectual" way, his philandering. Brett had tried to, over the years, seek a closer relationship with the "GREAT MAN," but to no avail. During the summer break, Brett had suggested that he accompany his father on his latest tour. Jim begrudgingly accepted---but that was because his wife Patti wanted her son to stay home with her during the summer break, especially since she had missed him so. And besides, with the daughter studying abroad and Jim on tour---again---Patti would be lonely. Jim wasn't hearing it. It was his way, or "no way." Still, during the first two weeks of the tour, things were just not working out all that well between Brett and Jim. Things got worse when Brett stumbled upon Jim and a young "intern" at the hotel workout gym. Brett came in to check on his dad in the cordoned off gym; he just caught Jim with his cock in the hands of a rather youngish, and altogether silly young intern. The blond slut pulled away her hands and did her bra before scampering off to "attend to some workout" regimes. Jim fumbled with his pants in complete shock as his own son glared across the empty gym at him. "Workin' out dad?" Brett asked, coolly. "Brett, I...I was just..." Jim could think of no excuses. He'd been caught red handed, in a manner of speaking. It was the first time Brett had actually caught his father, and he noted to himself that the "GREAT MAN" didn't seem to all that great "on the courts" anymore, given that his partner was doing all the work "by hand," as it were. Relations between Jim and son became a good deal more tense. Jim became thoroughly testy when Brett suggested that the "GREAT MAN's' wife was more than just a trophy, but also a GREAT WIFE, and certainly a great beauty. The irritation on Jim's part grew. He didn't like the attention Brett seemed to generate on the part of the women in the pre-game audience when he went a few matches with the old man. Brett was, evidently, something of strapping figure, at least to the women in the audience ( and certainly to his doting mother, Patti). Brett's wavy brown hair; his broad shoulders; his long, strong legs; his hard, rippling derrière as much as his subtle and seductive manner seemed to captivate a good number of the women who hung about. This was "competition" that Jim did NOT want. Things came to a head after a post-game swim. Patti had been asking Jim on the phone, once again, if Brett could spend some time with her back at the West coast home. "Fine, Goddamn it, fine with me." was Jim's response. He went to the swim lockers to let Brett know that his mother wanted to see him for the summer. Brett was in but his black bikini briefs, preparing to don his "intellectual's" attire (black pants and white designer shirt); it dawned upon Jim that Brett certainly had the physique and the grace to have been an athlete, perhaps a tennis player, even, like himself. But no. Brett was an annoyingly sensitive "intellectual," a "mama's boy," of no particular account, who by his very manner seemed to mock or pass judgment on the "GREAT MAN." The words were terse. Jim suggested that Brett scurry back to mama Patti; Brett, obviously hurt---as he and Patti had been so many times by "HIS GREATNESS"---let it be known that he would leave. He might return home, but only for a bit, just to ensure that Patti was doing alright. Jim, ever the "GREAT MAN," was none the too upset, and all the more dismissive under his breath: "What a son! A bikini-wearing, God-damned intellectual. It's a wonder he isn't gay!" When Brett left, he wasn't so much concerned for the latest wounds on the part of HIS GREATNESS. He was worried about Patti, a still very charming and stunningly beautiful woman, who deserved so much better than what Jim could or would commit to her. Brett decided he would take care of his mother, at least for a few weeks, before returning back East. She might have been Playmate-of-the-Year so very many years ago, but Patti was still the most beautiful woman Brett had ever known. He owed it to his mother that she knew at least one of the men in the family cared very deeply about her and appreciated all of her power and presence, the "GREAT MAN" be damned. After it became clear that Patti was alright with everything, as much as could be the case, Brett would leave. Patti, for her part, looked very much forward to seeing her son. He was her crowning joy: bright, sensitive, and empathetic. And she had to admit, she was also proud of how incredibly handsome he was becoming. He might not have had the sheer athletic power of his father in his glory days, but Brett had something perhaps even more alluring, if that would be the word, and longer lasting: Grace and sensuality. He would make a dream companion for a beautiful young woman, or so Patti mulled to herself. Over the next two months, Patti would try to call Jim (as was always the case) while he continued with the tour. He returned the calls, sometimes a day or two later, and sometimes a week later. She would always be there, anyway. After all, Jim had pleased himself in thinking, as he did so many times before, it's been quite a long time since she was Playmate-of-the-Year. Into the second month of the tour, Jim began to notice that Patti wasn't calling as frequently, and some weeks not at all. Jim thought this odd, and it was he who began calling her. When he did speak to Patti, she seemed her old Playmates self, and not at all as grasping or needy. There was something a bit distracted about her manner, too. She seemed lively and animated, but at the same time distant from and not altogether concerned about Jim, or his tour, or his moods, or even his "competition." Jim wasn't having any of it. As one who had goosed one to many a gander, Jim began to suspect that his trophy, his Playmate-of-the-Year possession had taken up with someone else. This thought began to eat at him, as Patti seemed, day-by-day, ever more animated---no, HAPPY--and yet strangely disassociated from him. Jim consoled himself with the thought that with his "mama's boy" of a son hovering about the homestead, no rival, no usurper, no pretender to his Playmate-of-the-Year trophy would have a chance. But it was strange, though, that as Jim began to ask about Brett, Patti would never seem to know where he was, or he was "out," or he was on a "project" or a "date," or whatever. Clearly, Patti's beloved jewel of a son Brett was not around, or at least was indisposed elsewhere, and therefore unable or thoroughly unwilling to keep an eye on the family possessions. "Bikini-wearing, fruitcake Bastard!" Jim snarled. He had given his son a mission for his exile back home, and if Jim wasn't explicit about it, then "intellectual" Brett should have figured it out. Now he pushed off to do whatever the hell he wanted. Jim cursed Brett as callow and utterly ineffectual; a real "loser." So, what---or WHO---the "GREAT MAN" wondered, was it that seemed to be capturing Patti's attentions? Doubts began to eat at Jim. They began to throw his game during the tour, and they didn't help his off-hours "competitions," either. A strange thing, though; the thought of Patti taking another man intrigued Jim. It seemed to plunge him deep into doubt and yet raise his hunger for Patti. A strange thing indeed, though, for while the thought of another man having his way with---"her lips that were still red, full, and wicked; her tummy that was flat but womanly; her hips that remained full, firm, and begging for a slapping; her breasts that were even more full, firm, and topped off by luscious long nipples; her legs that were forever lasciviously long, and from her pretty, high-arched feet, they still soared upward to her still full, thick, and forever succulent pussy bush"--gnawed him, the thoughts also excited him. The mixture of titillation and anxiety began to spiral out of control when Jim called Patti, and she became sometimes breathless, transfixed, rushed, blissed-out, or a combination of all four. Halfway into the tour, Jim found himself making all of the phone calls, to conversations that were unnerving as they were strangely erotic: "Hey, Patti" "Unghh..Oooo...mmmm... "Patti??" "Uhh?" "What the HELL's GOING ON?" "Mmmmm...ooooo...NOTHING, ugh, Jim...oooo" "Well, where's Brett, I'd like to talk to him...NOW!" "...Ohhhh...mmmm..." "DID YOU HEAR ME??" "Yesss...Brett...isn't...here...right...now..." "DO YOU KNOW WHERE HE IS??" "Ohhh...Nooooo....I...don't...mmmm..." "Well, isn't he your precious beautiful God-damned son??" "Mmmmm...hmmmm...oooo..." "I'd like to speak to him right NOW and find what the HELL IS GOING ON!" "Ohhh...so...would...I...but...he's...not...HERE...TO...TALK...right...now...oohhh..." Jim was beginning to experience a number of these conversations with Patti. It didn't take a genius to figure it out: something was going on. And whatever was going on, it involved the GREAT MAN'S Playmate-of-the-Year Trophy, and he wasn't having any of it. As for that loser, ingrate of a son of his, Jim would cut him off in the funds and cut him down to size--again---when the pretty boy finally returned home. But first, Jim had to catch his slut bitch of a wife (as he was now muttering about her darkly to himself in the dead of night) in the act. And he would, Jim swore, he would. As much as the thought of someone lying between the taut thighs of his wife tormented him, some part of Jim had to know that he wanted to catch his Patti not only for the sheer power that would accrue to his side, but also for the sheer excitement of it. The very image of his wife spreading her pussy lips for someone else's tongue and cock enraged him. But it also, in some strange way, excited him, too. Jim made his plans. He would take a few days off from the tour, unannounced to the press; he would take a late night flight back to California, check in a discrete hotel, and then in the early morning, make his way back home unannounced, unanticipated, undiscovered. Arriving unannounced in California on Tuesday, Jim rented an unassuming domestic car. He planned to drive out to his own home the next morning, as planned. Wednesday morning, Jim made the two-hour drive at dawn. It was still very early when he arrived in the exclusive neighborhood. Parking the car, Jim made his way to the rambling home undetected, and unencumbered by any luggage or entourage. His heart beating quickly, pulse beginning to quicken, and a twisting sensation in his gut, Jim felt like he was going to get sick. But he was going to catch his wife in the act. He was going to catch her with her lover, in his home, in his bed, inside his wife. He was going to find out once and for all not only if his wife was fucking another man, but also who was man fucking his wife. Jim entered the house quietly, coming in through the kitchen. The home seemed deserted. At first Jim was relieved. And then he realized: he encountered no groundskeepers, no gardeners, and no maids. Where were they? Someone let them go for the day. It had to be his wife. Jim's stomach tightened. An icy chill washed over him. He felt sick; Patti obviously wanted the home deserted but for herself--and her lover. Jim made his way through the rambling lower level of the home. No one appeared. No voices. No sounds. No noise. No Patti. Jim began to almost feel relieved, that is until he arrived in the living room. Then he saw it: Patti's sheer nightgown on the living room floor, just covering her dainty high-heeled slippers. Then he heard it, barely at first. It became louder and more insistent. What was it? As Jim struggled with the meaning of Patti's night gown dropped in a puddle in the middle of the living room floor, he became aware of what that insistent sound was, and from where it was coming: "Chic,chic, chic, chic.thump, thump, thump..." Bed springs. Headboard. Jim's heart sank like lead in water. He heard the squeaking of bedsprings and the banging of the headboard against the wall, and it was coming from upstairs. It was coming from the direction of HIS and HIS WIFE'S bedroom. The rhythm was steady, but becoming louder, and slightly faster. When Jim figured that out, he made out the other sounds, which were become even louder than the squeaking bed and banging headrest: "Ahh! Ah! Uhh! Mmmm! Ahh! Oooooo! (ughh) Ohhhh! (mmmphhh) Oooooo, yessss! (ungggh) Ooooo!(uunggh, fuck!) Ahh! Ah! Uhh!" Above the growing din of squeaking bedsprings and a banging headboard, it was Patti--HIS OWN WIFE---cooing, moaning, and groaning in ever louder, ever more heated cries and whispers. Answering her grunts were the growls, and ever-more insistent gasps of a very young, a very energetic, and a very worked-up young man. Jim had caught his wife in the act. Jim knew that the fallen nightgown was where it began: Patti came down to her lover, who was waiting for her in the living room. When he turned to face her, she was in the sheer, short, and silky gown. It clung over her full, firm breasts. The sheer white, translucent material caressed her hardening nipples. The short cut just barely covered her full, firm, and rounded ass cheeks. It left her long bare legs, for him to gaze upon---from her arched, sexy feet--encased for display in her high-heeled slippers--to the graceful upward thrust of her thighs disappearing in the silky shroud of the nightgown just draped over her bristly, bushy love triangle. Patti had slipped it off her shoulders. She let it drop for her lover. He came over to her and grasped her bare waist. They kissed. Her lips opened for his enquiring tongue. Her tongue meet his in flickering, sweet, alluring thrusts and parries. She stepped out of her slippers. He began to nibble on her tits---yes, tits, as they were no longer breasts---suckling her taut nipples until they were hard, puckered, and fully erect. Patti was now grasping at his crotch, rubbing his hard, aching cock through his tenting trousers. As Jim envisioned the scene, he began to feel rage, humiliation, and a violent nausea. "Chic,chic, chic, chic...Thump, thump, thump..." There was that sickening sound, again. Bedsprings and headboard squeaked and banged under the pressing weight of two lovers in their increasingly desperate increasingly fevered abandon. Oooooo! yessss, ooooo, yesss! (aww, yeah) Mmmmmm! Oooh, baybee, oooh baybee! (mmmphh) Ohhh,yessss! (ungggh)Oh, God...OH, GOD! (awwwwggnh, God)" There was that sickening sound, again. The two lovers---HIS WIFE and that bastard--were getting louder, hungrier, and hotter with every piston thrust of hard, bulging cock into sweltering, moist, and grasping pussy. Jim slowly and silently made his way up the banister, toward the noise, toward the heat, toward the torrid treason-taking place in his own bedroom: "Oooooo! Oooooh! Ahhhh! (ohhh, fuck, yes) Unnggh! God, Oh, God! (awwwngghh) Ooooo, sweet Jesus! (mmmph, yeh, oh, yeahhhh!)" As Jim heard this, rage fed upon him. Humiliation tore at him. The sickness in the pit of his stomach slashed at him. Still he crept down the hall toward the gasps, the moans, and the cries, all coming from his bedroom. Making his way down the hallway, Jim came upon the trail of a young man's clothes, tugged, pulled, and torn off as Patti led him toward her marital bed. Black pants, white designer shirt, socks, shoes, all leading straight to the bedroom. In the seconds before catching his slut whore of a wife, in the seconds before witnessing this upstart bastard fucking his bitch cunt of a PMOY wife, it entered his mind: No wonder Patti sent everyone home; Patti's lover was pounding her pussy so well that he had her shrieking, crying, and carrying on like Jim had never heard. Patti was experiencing the fuck of a lifetime. At that instant, Jim arrived at the door to the bedroom. It was wide open. Before Jim could burst in, before he could even bear to look in and see his beautiful, Playmate-of-the-Year wife having her pussy entered, impaled, and thrust into by the invading dick of the upstart lover, Jim looked down on the floor and saw them strewn before the open door of the bedroom: Patti's tiny, "CUM-FUCK-ME" red bikini panties and bra. There was more: A young man's tiny, tight "I'M-GONNA-FUCK-YOU" black bikini briefs. The man's bikini briefs were lying right next to Patti's bikini underwear. Jim was sickened. It could only have meant one thing... In the careening eternity of the second before Jim raised his eyes to look into HIS bedroom to witness the torrid, terrible, and tumultuous treason racing to its climax, it flashed before Jim's eyes: The circumstance in which Patti must have lost her tiny, sexy, red bikini panties, bra, and her lover his tight, tiny bikini briefs: Playmate of the Year: Love-Match Patti, in but her tiny bikini underwear, led her young Stallion to her marriage bed, undoing, unzipping, untying all of his clothes along the way. Now stripped to their underwear, the young Stallion----at least half the age of Patti---took control. He pressed his hard, young body into hers, pinning her against the wall before the open door. He slid his tongue deep into Patti's mouth, caressing, thrusting, pumping her mouth as his bulging, twitching penis would soon be pumping Patti's sweltering and dripping vagina. Patti moaned into his kiss. The older woman, so much in command, so much in power, surrendered, capitulated, and gave in to his hunger. As he pressed into Patti, he brought his hard cock--still imprisoned in his tight black briefs---right up against Patti's crotch. He rubbed his throbbing, massive pole up and down against her (barely) covered mound. He could feel Patti's pussy drenching her panties. His hard penis began to make its way up her vagina's love canal. Patti was gasping and crying into his mouth, as their French kissing became frantic kissing. Only the fabric from her tiny, drenched panties and his pre-cum-stained briefs prevented his cock from pushing all the way up her love canal. He brought his mouth to her heaving breasts; pulling the bra below her erect nipple, he took the rubbery sweetness of her two nipples, one by one, into his mouth. Patti's nipples puckered until they were hard and bursting, as if to feed his mouth with her maternal milk. Patti was so close. Her cum was overcoming her. So was her lover's. He licked three fingers and slipped them gently into Patti's mouth. She suckled them like she would his throbbing, twitching dick. This made him so excited, his penis ached with tingling sensations and leaked gobs of sticky pre-cum. He then pulled his wet fingers from Patti's mouth. As he suckled her big, firm tits, as Patti gasped and moaned how good his--her Stallion's-- attentions felt, he stealthily slipped two fingers down her panties, down into her thick, brown bush. She whimpered in anticipation. He curled the wet fingers to follow the contours of Patti's pussy mound, tracing the mound from where Patti's bushy cunt hair gave way to wet, slick, and swollen pussy lips. He began to stroke softly her enflamed clit. It felt moist and rubbery. Patti's cunt lips were positively dripping, and her juice ran down her thighs as if her cunt was pouring hot cream. Patti's fingers dug into his back. Her head fell gently back against the wall. Her eyes shut tight. When his two and then three fingers slipped in and finally thrust up into her sweltering, dripping pussy canal, Patti surrendered. She gave in. Her inner cunt lips and walls grasped hungrily at the invading fingers. Patti's first cum that day came suddenly: "Ohhhhhhhh!!!!! ANNNGHHHHHH!!!!!! " After that first cum roared over her, Patti's eyes opened seductively. She reached down and pulled her lover's fingers out of her drooling, creamy canal. Face flushed, eyes half closed, Patti reached down and began to pull at the tiny, tight, black bikini briefs of her young Stallion. It was time. When Patti pulled the tight briefs bellow his bulging balls, his cock sprung to attention and throbbed hungrily. The briefs dropped to his feet. Patti was bending down to take his hard, long, and veiny meat of his into her mouth. But he stopped her. Patti could see that his cock throbbed in unison with every beat of his pounding heart. She took his cue. Patti pulled down her own panties. They glided down her taut thighs and long legs. The two stepped away from the underwear, leaving a little heap of flimsy fabric at their feet, a little heap made up a young stud's black bikini briefs, Patti's bra, and now her cum-soaked panties. The two lovers were now naked before each other. Patti leaned against the wall and spread her legs wide. She was trembling. She began to ask her Stallion if they should go lie down on the bed, but a few feet away. Her words were muffled by her lover's tongue. She spread her legs still wider when she felt the rubbery but hard helmet of her lover's cock seeking out the burning, dripping entrance to her love canal. He found it quickly. She pulled on his ass cheeks as he pushed his dick upward. Patti felt her cunt opened up and stuffed inch by hard, hot inch of her lover's hungry cock: "UNNNGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH" They both gasped in delirious pleasure. His hard cock felt so hot that it melted away her cunt's resistance. Thrusting slowly up into her hot, wet, cunt, his poker-hot cock melted the buttery pussy folds aside as it slid in hard and fast. He was throbbing too hard. Patti could feel that he was about to spray his love milk, he was so on fire. Patti pulled back. Her Stallion's dick popped out with a "plop." Coated with her cunt juices and suddenly ejected from the warm, wet tunnel to the cool of the fresh air, control returned to him. But now Patti was too hot to wait any longer. "Take me to bed, take me to bed," Patti gasped. She wanted her lover so much that she had to have him in two of the most sanctified of places: on top of her on her marriage bed with his cock buried deep inside her pussy as he fucked her retarded. He wanted that too. Patti led him into the bedroom. She lay on her back, nude, on her marriage bed, and spread her long legs wide for her ardent Stallion. Her long, smooth legs, her full but neatly trimmed pussy bush, her pink, pouting pussy lips, inflamed with desire and dripping with invitation, her heaving tits, her half-closed eyes, her tongue rolling across her full red lips, sanctified the invitation. He took the sacrament. He came up on the bed and over her. Every part of his body was taut and throbbing with hot anticipation. He was above her. He was upon her. He was between her spread legs. Patti felt the head of his dick rub against and then enter the smooth, creamy groove of her matronly slit. His cock head felt like a heated purple plumb as it slowly split Patti's wet vaginal walls and pushed into her sweltering socket. He felt like he was about to enter Patti in all of her Playmate-of-the-Year glory. Patti gasped as her cunt lips stretched wide, wider, and as wide as they could go, sealing tightly around the pulsing plumb head of its new guest. He pushed forward. His thick cock sank inch by veiny-thick inch into Patti's buttery folds. He could feel Patti shiver. It was the moment they both longed for. It was the moment both wanted to savour, as it felt so exquisite. As his balls sank toward the cheeks of Patti's ass, the Stallion prayed he wouldn't spray his load right then and there. So did Patti. She wanted more; it felt so good. Patti's Stallion began to take short, slow strokes, fucking his big, veiny meat a bit deeper with each slow thrust. Patti drew in a sharp breath and held it as her stud's babymaker entered the sweltering depths between her spread thighs. Her pussy walls molded around the hot meat of hard cock, completely engulfing it in a grasping, wet, and hot spongy canal. Every nerve ending of his dick sparked and spat at the heat and tightness of Patti's cunt. Patti felt the tip of her lover's prick kiss the opening to her cervix, making her take in another gulp of air and hold it. Her new lover was as big as a Stallion, and his size was as exciting as it was just a bit intimidating. But how exciting it was for her, the feel of hot, hard, young cock. Once again, he was slipping, pushing, and slowly feeding his babymaker forward, burying it deep into her moist, greasy folds. Inch by inch his veiny, steaming meat disappeared into the hairy and wet slit between Patti's firm thighs. With every excruciating tingle and twitch of erotic shock borne of such a large, pulsing cock splitting her slit, Patti raised her knees and spread her legs higher and wider. She needed to make room for "it." She needed get more of him, more of his hot, throbbing manhood, and she needed to get it deeper into her, deeper into her slit, into her love canal, toward the bottom of her cunt, toward her womb. He did not disappoint her. It took a while before he could get his long, fat cock into her. Finally, his very heavy, very hairy, and very, big balls came to rest upon her ass cheeks. Patti's pussy was on fire. She couldn't stop it so she just gave in to the sensations and let her wet cunt pulse, twitch, flutter, and suck on the masculine invader. He pulled his dick out of Patti's love canal right to the tip of his pulsing penis. Patti's cunt lips were reduced to desperately clinging to the rubbery head, trying to suck the purple plum-headed cock back into the sweltering depths of her aching womanhood. He complied. Slowly, very slowly, he pushed his tingling dick back into the depths of Patti's cunt. "Ahh! Oh, God yes!" Patti hissed in relief. He pulled it out again, just a little quicker. "Nooo...please, don't leave me!" Patti whimpered. He comforted his older lover: As he returned his tingling cock to her hot greasy depths, he just managed to slip it even deeper into the torrid, dripping, wet pussy. "Ooooooo," Patti exhaled happily, her mouth partially open, insistently panting. Patti held her Stallion-stud against her, savouring the feel of his hard body and soft, wet touch of his skin. He had her where he wanted, and she let down the barriers for his natural instincts to take over. They did. He started to fuck his big dick in and out of Patti's love-canal. Just two minutes into the deep, slow strokes from his monster cock, and Patti was rocked with an intense orgasm. It would be the first of many. She was completely at love's mercy, now. So was he. They both were moaning, now, too. They both were gasping. It felt so excruciatingly good for both them. It felt so good in fact that neither Patti nor her lover could ever have had any chance of hearing Jim creeping down the hallway to spy upon them. At the very instant--when all of this imagined (but probably very true) scene, in all of its hated, hellish, and oh-so-hot betrayal, flashed and faded across his fevered mind's eye in the infinity of half a second--Jim finally raised his eyes up from Patti's puddle of panties, bra, and her lover's bikini briefs. Jim gulped, sickened and paralyzed, by the reality of what he was about to witness. Then he cast his gaze straight ahead, straight through the open door, straight into the bedroom, and straight on to the bed, not six feet away: "OHHHHH...GOD!!!!!" Patti screamed, totally oblivious to the horrified witness, her champion husband. And now Jim had to hear it, and now he had to witness it unfold before him, the defilement of his greatest trophy: Patti, his wife, his Playmate-of-the-Year victory was totally nude and on her back, on THEIR marriage bed, her legs spread high and wide and her curled toes practically at her ears. Between her spread thighs was the muscular ass of a bold young rival, wet with the sweat of its relentless exertions, rising and falling, pushing the monster dick into Jim's wife to make her cry and gasp her erotic surrender. How Jim had to see it and hear it: His wife's pussy being reamed as her young stud's dick pistoned in and out of that former Playmate-of-the-Year's cunt, cuckolding, conquering and claiming that succulent, secreting, love-hole of a Playmate-of-the-Year's cunt for his own. How Jim had to watch and hear it: The Stallion stud's big, sweaty balls slapping against the moist, sweaty crack of Patti's ass, again and again, and yet again. Jim's torment got worse by the second. Patti was panting. When her tongue wasn't slithering around her lover's, it was rolling over her full lips in wicked glee. As her Stallion's dick burrowed ever deeper into her hot, drooling, and spongy folds, Patti's mouth opened in a wicked "O." Another orgasm roared through Patti's gorgeous body: "OHHHHH MYYYY GOOODDDDD,OHHHHHH BAYBEE!!!! Patti wailed, in a crying tone that must have awakened the dead. Patti's Stallion picked up his pace. He began to fuck her hard. Jim groaned in humiliation as he watched his wife grit her teeth and hiss: "Go deep! DEEP, DEEPER!! OOOOO, YESSS, THAT'S IT, YESSSS, LOVER!!! Jim could see her fat cunt splayed wide open and the fat, hard young cock stuffed it full before pulling out, glistening with the woman-cum of his wife. Like a pro, the Stallion started fucking Jim's greatest trophy with long hard stokes. The young Stallion and Patti were face to face and she stared into his eyes as she felt the enormous girth of his cock fuck into her harder and deeper than she'd ever been fucked by Jim--or anyone else. Jim almost collapsed. The Stallion was going to make his mare cum harder than she ever had before, again and again. "OH GOD!!!!" Patti wailed. Another cum had hit her so hard that Patti's body shook and quivered as she erupted into long, crying groans. Her face was red, flush, and contorted. A series of grunting screams, like a woman giving birth to a first-born son, followed as wave after wave of cum gripped, contracted, and caressed her body. To his unending horror, Jim watched and listened to Patti's panting and moaning as she got it good from her lover's thick young cock. Then there was that which no husband should ever hear: his wife's wanton dirty talk, attempting to make her stud-Stallion cum: "Ooooo yes, baby, feel my pussy engulfing your big cock, lover! Oh, that's it, ooooohhh, yes, yes, that's it! Suck on my big titties, bite them, LOVER...Ooooo, baby, you suck on them so good!" Jim's stomach knotted and snapped as he watched his wife get her pussy pounded by another on her marriage bed. " Oh my God, I think I'm gonna cum again!" Patti moaned. Patti's arm's were flung behind her head, and her long fingers clutched at the pillow. Her ass was pumping up from the bed in hard, frantic strokes. Her legs were flung wide and, it seemed, up by her ears, making way for and encouraging her lover ever deeper into her cunt, deeper into her belly, and deeper into her womb. Her toes curled and pointed. Between Patti's long, outspread legs, was her Stallion-stud lover. He was accepting her invitation. His ass rose up and fell deep, pushing his cock in long, powerful strokes deep into Patti's pussy. Sounds of wet, slapping flesh dribbled down the hallway. Sounds of slurping cunt and plunging penis splashed throughout the bedroom. Jim heard and saw it all. Patti and her lover's sweat---and Jim was so close he could see it dripping off the stud's forehead onto Patti's heaving tits, and down her belly---made their bodies shimmer and pop along with the banging of the headboard and squeaking bed springs. The pungent scent of sweat, oozing cunt and cock cream wafted from the room, invading Jim's nostrils. It made him more nauseous than ever. But it also made Jim incredibly excited. He had snuck up to catch that slut Playmate of a wife in the act; he planned to rage, spit, and spite her treachery; he had a mind to slay her stud Stallion. But now all he could do was look upon that stud pounding his wife's pussy, hearing, smelling, watching, even feeling his wife Patti get the fucking of her life. This made Jim's mouth dry, his heart pound, and his cock pulse with heat and excitement. Jim couldn't stop watching the two lovers kiss, lick, bite, and fuck their way to a final, shattering cum. That was going to happen any minute now. Patti and her Stallion stud were hungrily thrusting into each other, leaking, smearing, and rubbing their heated fluids over each other. As Patti pushed her ass up of the bed, her Stallion buried his big dick in her fluttering folds. When Patti returned her ass to the squeaking mattress, her Stallion's purple plum head was being suckled by Patti's labia and outer cunt lips. When the stud's ass rose, his cock pulled out of Patti's drooling vagina. Jim was slashed with envy as he witnessed the length and fatness of his rival's dick: so much longer than Jim's; so much fatter; and it and the stud's big balls were glistening in Patti's white cunt crème, which was now flowing so freely that it dripped down Patti's anus. Jim could see that! He was so close and so wretchedly transfixed that he could Patti's cunt lips stretch around that fat dick, and baste it with her woman cum to keep it slick for pumping deeper, faster, and harder every time it disappeared into her fertile depths. Patti and her stud were on fire, like newlyweds. But they knew just what to do to take the other higher and higher. Jim knew in an instant that this meant. Patti had been fucking this Stallion for a while, now. They weren't going to stop, either. They were way too hot for each other. As Jim suffered in wide-eyed silence, his fevered brain began to register some details: there was something vaguely familiar about the stud pounding Patti's pussy. But Jim was too shocked, too humiliated, and too erotically excited to add it all up: There was the stud's brown hair; his broad shoulders; his long, strong legs; his hard, rippling ass as it pumped up and down, and yes, that big fat dick and big balls; the stud was obviously an athlete, ball player, or maybe even an amateur tennis player. "Strangely...familiar," thought Jim in the midst of his torment and excitement. Just then, Patti and the lover broke their long, lascivious kiss. Patti was not just moaning; she was wailing now, louder than ever. Her lover wasn't just grunting, now, he was actually groveling more frantically then ever, too. His thrusts were no longer deep, long, and powerful. They were fast, erratic, and frenetic. The Stallion's body was quivering and he was gasping desperately for air. This was it. Patti was going to have her biggest cum yet. Jim was watching the last moments before his wife sprayed her cunt cum all over her Stallion's dick and balls. It got worse. Her Stallion was going to cum, finally. Any minute now, the young, strangely familiar Stallion would be coating Patti's womb with stream after stream of potent, sperm-laden jizz. It was more than Jim could bear. But he couldn't turn away. As Patti began to thrash on the bed, she brought her hands to her stud's hard ass checks and pulled them toward her pussy. Patti's legs came down from the heights around her ears, and she crossed them, one long and shapely leg at a time, around the wet, hard waist of her stud. Crossing her pretty feet above her Stallion's pumping, sweaty ass, Patti began to cry out: "OOOOOOOO MMMMYYYYY GGGGGGOD!!!!!! MYYY INCREDIBLE, BEAUTIFUL MOTHERFUCKER!!! YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUMMMM!!! OHHHH BRETT!!! OHHH BRETT!!! OHHHHHHYESSSSSS!!!!!!!!" "Brett?" Jim gasped. "Oh, no, GOD, NO...that's the name of...of...OUR SON!!!" And then Jim saw it. Brett had had his face buried in the fleshy mounds of Patti's tit flesh. He lifted his head high, shut his eyes tightly, and arched his back. Beads of sweat glistened on his tanned skin, highlighting his muscular frame. His ass descended one last time, burying his throbbing cock as deep as it could go into Patti's grasping, fluttering, and spraying cunt. In a last, tortured gasp for mercy, Brett surrendered. And Jim saw and heard it all: " Mom...Ohhhh, MOM...I'm...I'm gonna CUM!!!" On his father's bed and on top of his gorgeous mother, thrusting his cock into her with all his might, between his mommy's long legs, wrapped so tightly around his waist, Patti's son suddenly froze. His ass checks fluttered. Pressing his body against Patti's, pressing her sweaty Playmate tits flat against his hard chest, burying his penis right up against his mother's dilating cervix, Brett's body convulsed. He groaned. With her hands and her long legs, Patti squeezed him closer to her just as her son thrust his throbbing cock to very end of her grasping love canal. She looked up at him, her mouth quivering, and she gasped with love and tenderness: Playmate of the Year: Love-Match "Cum deep in me!" Brett felt his cock twitch violently-- and then a hard jet of hot cum shot out of his cock and deep into Patti's womb. Her body jolted; her eye's bulged; she cried out: "OOOHHHHH!!!!!! OOOHHHHH!!!!" Patti wailed with each new hard squirt of his hot cum. Jim stumbled backward down the hallway. He was white, pale, and filled with torment. His own son's face was again buried in sweet, sweaty, and spongy tit-flesh. His own son was again licking and sucking his mother's long, puckered, nipples. And when Patti reached the peak of her own cum, her screams stabbed her cuckolded husband senseless: "I'M CUMMMMIINNNGGGG!!! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH MMMMYYYYYGGGGGODBRETTYESSSSSSSSS!!!!!" Frantically wiggling her ass, Patti was rubbing, massaging, and sucking the cum right out of her son's throbbing cock with the fluttering, wet walls of her jizz-filled pussy. Brett soon felt the flow of his mother's hot orgasmic fluid spraying over his big balls. As Patti wiggled her ass to and fro, Brett remained frozen, his big dick buried to the hilt of his mother's cunt. He was held by the force of the exquisite throbbing in his big dick as strand after gooey strand of his hot, creamy fuck-milk squirted from his twitching cock and shot deep into his mother's cervical chamber. Again and again Brett grunted helplessly at the sweet sensations of his hot discharges, filling his middle-aged Playmate-of-the-Year mom's pussy with billions of his sperm. Even as he continued to spurt hotly into her cunt, Brett's sperm were already swimming doggedly to fathom her depths and to faithfully find and fuck her lucky viable, and precious egg. Jim fainted. But even as he fell back in terror, he could not keep his eyes off his wife grinding her bristly pussy mound against her son's groin. Jim felt sick with disgust, but not because his own son was filling his own mother's pussy with cum. Jim was feeling sick because it was so incredibly erotic! What he heard next almost made him cum, too! "OH GOD, OH GOD, BRETT, OOOOH FUCK!! I CAN FEEL IT!! I CAN FEEL YOU SHOOTING!! YOUR CUM FEELS SOOOO HOT, SOOO GOOD, SOOOO DEEP!!!" Her son's orgasm spent itself hard in the welcoming depths of his mother before her own cum finished. Patti mothered Brett with the warm, moist pillows of her ample tit-flesh even while her pussy engulfed, caressed, and sucked on his quivering cock, draining his big balls of every last drop of their sperm-rich fuck-milk. When she began to come down from her cum, she unwrapped her long, shapely legs gently off of her son. Brett had already collapsed on her, his face buried in her fleshy pillows and his cock still embedded her cum-filled cunt. Jim slunk down the stairs and into the living room. He staggered silently back in a dreadful mix of defeat and sexual excitement. His last sight was of Patti and her son beginning to slumber, spent, satiated, and blissful in each others arms---oh, and the sight of Brett's thick, creamy cum overflowing out of his mother's sloppy cunt and down her beautiful, moist anus, gooing his big and now emptied balls, and already moist bedspread. Jim didn't know whether to kill them both or to pound his throbbing cock. He was shocked, disgusted, and outraged. He was also excited. Watching his son fuck and cum inside his gorgeous mother's---his WIFE's--- pussy as she orgasmed all around that big, potent dick was the most exciting thing Jim had ever seen. He decided not to make a act right away. Jim decided he needed more "evidence." He needed to build a case. He would need recordings, photos, and videos of the deed. As he crept quietly down the hallway, stepping over his wife's and son's underwear, Jim decided that the best thing to do would be to find out how "involved" his wife and son really were, how regularly they fucked each other; if there was a chance that Brett might make his mom, Patti, pregnant. Jim knew that the only way he could find this out was to observe, record, and film his son Brett and his wife Patti making love, having sex, and fucking. Jim decided that's just what he would do, and diligently, as well. Jim gathered what was left of his senses. He went into the kitchen to call a private eye, one who specialized in "photographs" and "surveillance" videotaping. As he dialed the number, he heard sounds begin anew:"Chic,chic, chic, chic...thump, thump, thump..." And when the phone was answered, Jim had to struggle to hear the private eye's receptionist on the other end, as Jim was distracted by another set of sounds that began anew: Oooooo! yessss, ooooo, yesss, Brett! (aww, yeah Patti!) Mmmmmm! Oooh, Brett oooh Brett! (mmmphh, Patti) Ohhh,yessss! (ungggh, Patti )Oh, God...OH, GOD, BRETT! (UNGGGHH, OH, GOD, OH, GOD, MOM...!!)"