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Back to School Special

By: Barb36D



"Continuing education" is what our local tech college calls it. Everyone else refers to it as "old school". This didn't stop me from picking up a few refresher courses, when I was out of work a few years back. At the time I was, what I tongue-in-cheek called, damn near fifty. Of course, the term 'damn near fifty' works from the ages of about 48, until 55. 

I certainly never felt that old. Fortunately, I had won the first round of fighting the good fight against the extra pounds that had come my way. Don't get me wrong. I had a few additional wrinkles, my ash blonde hair needed more de-ashing than I had projected, and I've come to refer to a modest amount of thigh dimples as hail damage. However, for the most part, my full-length mirror reported a still vibrant, voluptuous woman. A 34 double-d-26-35, at five-foot-four; this empty-nesting mother of two still had plenty of what it takes to garner plenty of male attention.

Being out of the workforce for over six months sucks on so many levels. The one redeeming thing was the extra time I now had to regroup and take some college courses. If nothing else, at least my waning self-esteem would snap back to attention. I was getting straight A's for the first time ever, and I loved it! Sure, my high grades screwed up the curve for the youngsters, but the hell with them. They've got their whole lives ahead, and a little competition from "mom" couldn't hurt.

It wasn't until my third semester, after registering for Psychology 101, that I questioned whether I would be able to ace this course as well. The no nonsense Professor William Grant was an attractive, but quiet man, well into his sixties. I noticed from day one, with all the young female students showing up in mini-skirts and low-cut tops, that he was going to be tough. 

He was tough, but apparently not without an appreciation for a well-turned ankle or ample bosom. The humorous sight of all that nubile estrogen oozing from the front row in his lecture class had me giggling, until he started handing out assignments. "Whoa! Slow down there Professor!" I whispered from the back of the tiered amphitheatre. With a strict voice, he rattled off required text chapters, dates and names like it was some sort of directive from high command. 

Glancing down at the front row, as I scribbled notes, I still had to chuckle. The dust was flying, as the young ladies scrambled to brush back their hair. Uncrossing their never-ending legs punctuated with elevated heels, they were completely caught off guard. One particular young blonde simply froze. With her deer-in-the-headlights stare, she was about to taste the molten steel of Grant's demeanor for the first time.

"So, are there pens and pencils on your planet?" His dark eyes sent lasers to penetrate the thickest of skulls in that row. She nodded, but I think that was just what she did, when asked most any question. "...and you DO have one of those?" He added. 

Another brainless nod.

"Will we need to call security to help you locate it?" He dryly suggested.

Another nod. "Oh my God, she's gone numb!" I observed.

Slowly turning around, he appeared to be letting the most perfect epithet simmer and boil before launching. Several of us back-rowers breathed a joint sigh of relief, when the brunette next to blondie handed her a pen and opened her notebook. Coming out of his roundhouse turn, and ready to combust, the sight of her with pen and paper cut short what otherwise would have been total devastation.

From then on, one could say, Professor Grant had our undivided attention. I don't think one student dared exhale until class was over. Outside the classroom door in the hall we gathered--the survivors.

"Professor GRANITE, that's what they call him," one of the debs announced. Her young comrades totally agreed with that assessment, as compacts, cell phones and hairbrushes zipped through the air.

Wiping away a smirk, I broke into their well-guarded circle. "So what's the story on this guy?" I asked.

"I heard he's married to a younger woman, a MUCH younger woman," said one of them.

"My girlfriend had him last semester, and said he's tough, but he gives good grades to girls," added another.

"So, you guys just figured 'when in doubt' go with the extra skin theory?" I followed.

"Hey, whatever works! I need this course to complete my gen eds," said the tall brunette who donated the extra pen.

The pretty peroxide blonde victim was nowhere to be seen. "Cindy says she's gonna drop this class, for sure." I guessed Cindy was the aforementioned frozen victim of Professor Granite's fury.

Trotting off to my next class, I made a mental note to pay special attention in Psychology 101. If there was one thing (quite possibly the only sure thing) I've learned since returning to school, it was to really focus on giving each teacher what they wanted. Screw the curriculum; screw the textbooks; even the class itself. Each teacher had their own agenda and they generally graded students according to how well the students adhered to their personal expectations. I mean we're all only human. Once I discover what each specific teacher expects, it's not hard to simply satisfy his/her requirements. It's all about perceptions and fulfillment. 

This method of breaking things down to basics is not dissimilar from my assessment of relationships, for that matter. Give a man (any man) what they think they want, and life is a breeze. Detecting Professor Grant's perceived wants might be challenging, but discovery is a great part of the fun for me.

My next scheduled class that day was a typical no-brain-required, skill-building, typing and filing course. The woman-of-little-words "teaching" the course directed us to do computer-assigned exercises. Essentially, she was really no more than another piece of furniture. We learned early on not to ask her questions, as she was completely self-absorbed with ignoring us and cruising the Internet. This is the sort of moronic course that gives scholastics a bad name. However, this class was definitely relaxing, after having to deal with PSY 101. Fortunately it was also what I like to call a D&G class. Once a student completed the required exercises, they were DONE and free to GO. Being a fair typist, the drills were easily accomplished; and I was done and gone in no time.

This gave me extra time to catch a bite to eat. Making my way across campus, I wandered into the huge, crowded cafeteria/commons area. Loading my tray with a sandwich, fruit drink, and snacks, I followed the conveyor belt to the cashier. Apparently the cashier had failed her remedial math course, as it was taking forever to service the kid in front of me. Glancing around for an open table, I caught sight of none other than the infamous Professor Granite himself, having lunch with a colleague. "Hmm, and the table behind him is open," I thought, when the cashier finally totaled my tray.

"Tree, nine-tee-fi," she reported, holding her hand out like a common peddler craving a donation. Actually, by the looks of her, I assumed this was probably her second job. I handed her four ones, received my nickel, and quick-stepped to the open table. Settling in and diving into my ever-so-healthy repast, with my back to the professor, I caught a bit of male-to-male dialog.

"You mean out of all those foxy young things, there wasn't one honey that tripped your trigger?" The colleague asked. 

"I go through this every damn semester, Mark. For some reason, these teenyboppers all think that by pretending to be women that will impress me somehow," the professor stated.

"Oh come on! I saw some of those so-called teenyboppers coming out of your L-2 class. They looked pretty womanly to me, Bill," Mark objected.

"Pretenders I tell you, all of them," Grant replied between bites.

"Personally, I think you're losing it," Mark observed, with his mouth half-full.

"Is that so? Could it be I'm just content with my marriage, and don't require such diversions?"

"I know you better than that, AND I know about Sandra too. So, don't feed me that BS," Mark shot back.

Seldom in my life have I been privy to men chatting about the opposite sex. So, hearing this sort of locker room banter coming from two refined academics was revealing. What I over heard next ranked right at the top of insightful, if not totally surprising.

"You may THINK you know me, and let's not bring Cassandra into this," Grant countered.

"Look Bill, just because you're sixty-five doesn't mean your sex life is over. Hell, with a wife twenty years younger, most guys would be riding high!"

"Sixty-six," Bill corrected, then avoided the younger wife remark.

"And Sandra?" Mark pushed.

"Nothing is as simple as it might appear. Things get complicated," Grant offered little.

"Okay, okay, whatever... but there must have been one or two of those pretenders..." the younger Mark (I guessed to be in his late forties) backed off and tried to lighten the borderline serious conversation. 

"Well, in all honesty, there was this one rather attractive woman," Grant admitted.

"Oh REALLY; one of the front-line girls -- which one? That tall brunette with the legs that went clear up to her armpits?"

"No, I said a WOMAN. She wasn't in the front row, thank God," Grant revealed, with what I surmised to be a smile. She was more toward the back; had on a yellow blouse. Now there was a woman!"

Scarfing down the rest of my sandwich, I glanced down at my yellow blouse and nearly choked. Surreptitiously as possible, I snaked my hands into my windbreaker, and pulled my jacket up to cover my blouse. "Oh my God, Professor Granite has eyes for ME?" I swallowed hard, as Mark prodded Bill for more information.

I was no more than an innocent interloper up until that point. Now I was dangerously close to spying, for all intensive purposes. Problem was, I suddenly felt like that same deer caught in the headlights. Frozen to my chair, I dare not get up and risk being recognized by either one of them. Silently sipping my juice, I prayed for the Starship Enterprise to beam me up and out of there. Luckily, the professor's recollection of my appearance was limited.

"I don't recall her name, actually. You know how first days go. I'm lucky to get them all present and accounted for," Grant said.

"There must be something about her that made an impact?" Mark continued.

"Very attractive figure, you know. Nice, big... you know," Grant stated possibly gesturing for greater impact. I couldn't tell.

"Jesus, look at the time! I've got a class in five. We'll have to continue this later, you devil," Mark growled. 

I heard them shuffle and return their chairs on the squeaky linoleum floor. Glimpsing the two of them, from the corner of my eye, the gods had prevailed; I had escaped undetected. Enlightened by their conversation, I possessed all the necessary information to exact a plan of action.

*******************

The Seduction 

A week later I geared up for my classes. I also prepared a little something extra for the professor. As it was unseasonably warm, I donned a super-tight tube top. Covering it with a starched white shirt, I wiggled into a cream-colored cotton skirt. The lightweight slinky skirt, cut right above the knee is one of my favorites. Just to keep things interesting, I opted for a white garter belt, white satin, French-cut panties, and thigh-high flesh-colored hose.

"I'm taking your Camry in for a tune-up, so you'll have to drive the SUV today, Barb," yelled hubby, just before I heard the front door slam.

"Screw that big ole' thing. It's warm enough today for the jeep," I decided.

The jeep was Donny's latest pride and joy. The ugly WWII vintage replica was the closest thing on the property resembling a convertible, and today was definitely top-down weather. Tossing my books and purse behind the front seat, I hopped in the stark two-seater and switched over the ignition. Hiking up my skirt to find the pedals, I shifted into gear and hit the road. Now I ask you, what could be sexier than a mature blonde, in a tight tube top, hauling ass down a country road in a rugged old jeep?

Sexy or not, by the time I reached school, I logged over a dozen stares, and several tips of the caps from the locals. Brushing back my wind-blown hair, I grabbed my books and headed for the lecture hall and Professor Granite.

I arrived only a minute or two before class. Planning on sneaking to my previous seat, I saw it was already taken. Amazing enough, almost the entire front row was vacant. The debs were in the classroom, but apparently had given up on their initial frontal attack. Well-camouflaged in less-than-daring regular day jeans and tops, they sat with notebooks and pens ready to work. I smiled and quietly strutted to the front row. The classroom door opened promptly at 10:00 a.m. Professor Grant walked stoically in, carrying his books on his left hip. His right arm was in a dark blue sling, and he winced as he let the books flop down on the desk. Not used to using his left hand, one of his books fell to the floor at my feet. Turning in my desk, to swing my legs to one side, I leaned down and picked up the fallen textbook. Handing it up to him, our eyes met.

"Th-thank you," the nearly white-headed man offered, as his left hand took hold of the book. His eyes suddenly glued to mine, as he seemed to be completely unattached from the immediate motor activity of retrieving the book. Letting those same eyes wander down my torso, he caught himself lingering on my chest, and quickly snapped his head back.

"You're welcome," I softly replied, smiled and half-batted my eyes.

Instantly he tried shifting back into control mode. He walked behind his desk to broaden the space between us, as he began barking instructions to the class. Except for shooting me an occasional glance, he was business-as-usual. 

Since this was our first formal class, role call was taken. I was sure he had no idea what my name was, until my name came up. "Barbara Bodecker?" He called.

Raising my No. 2 pencil to the side of my face, I replied, "Here." Fixing his eyes on me, I sensed he was etching my name into his long-term memory bank. Crossing my legs broke his gaze, as he continued checking the rest of the names.

After a series of open discussions on personality disorders and a chapter quiz, he announced a fifteen-minute break. Like so many sheep corralled in a too-small pen, the majority of the class emptied into the hall. Being the sole remaining sheep, I got to my heeled sandals and slowly sauntered toward the door. 

"Thanks again for... you know," he smiled. 

"My God, he SMILED!" I returned his smile with the cutest one I could conjure up. "So, did you break it?" I asked, coaxing his eyes from mine to his arm in the sling.

"No, no, just a sprain... I think," he said with a degree of embarrassment. "Working in the garage last weekend. I don't know. I must have pulled it, or something."

"Better have somebody look at it, ya know; just to make sure," I recommended.

"Yes, my... my wife is taking me to Physicians' Clinic later," he said, as I made my way closer to the door.

"Good. Let's hope that's all it is--a sprain." Batting my eyes one more time, before swinging the door open.

The balance of the class was Professor Grant's typical lecture. Pens and pencils whizzed behind me, as he addressed us on psychology terms and our homework assignments. Unlike the previous week, he seemed more on edge, and paced almost continually from one side of the room to another, as he spoke. Perhaps his injury was nagging him, or was it some other form of distraction that provided the increased anxiety?

He dismissed the class and I gathered my notes and books. Once again bringing up the rear, I lingered to let the students hurry outside.

"Is that the clinic over on Sixth and Main?" I asked, turning back to the professor.

"Yes, that's the one."

"That's on my way home. If you want to save your wife the trip, I'd be happy to drop you off," I boldly offered.

Shifting his eyes to consider my offer, he smiled again, "Oh you don't have to..."

"It's right on my way, and I'm not busy... Come on, what time do you need to be there?"

"Probably around 3 o'clock, but..."

"No butts about it, I'll meet you out front at two-thirty then," I grinned and hurried out the door, before he could turn me down.

Three o'clock would mean finding something to do for two hours after lunch; plus the clinic was nowhere near the direction I was headed. Armed with nothing but my textbooks, I decided to spend the extra time in the library. Searching the Internet, I found all sorts of tidbits about Professor William Grant.

Jumping in the jeep, I pulled around to the main drive at two-thirty on the dot. Out strode the older gent. Walking toward me, he was all smiles.

"My God, where did you come up with this old beater?" He laughed, climbing into the jeep.

"Hey, I'll have you know this is a genuine, certified, old beater," I mocked.

Turning over the ignition, I watched him nervously scan the immediate area. "Afraid to be seen in such an old crate, or maybe you're not wanting to be seen in the company of the sexy blonde driving it?" I joked, hiked up my skirt, and shifted into first gear.

"Hmmm, you are a keen observer," he quipped, as the jeep sped away.

Running my fingers through my shoulder-length ash blonde tresses, I shook my head to catch the wind. "What a simply beautiful day!"

"It is THAT," the normally reticent professor agreed, his eyes trained on my legs. Hard-shifting the old tranny in the open jeep, my lightweight skirt caught a breeze. This blew it up almost into my lap, clearing showing my garter straps. "Great day for a picnic isn't it?"

Hearing no response, I figured he hadn't heard me over the engine's roar. "GREAT DAY FOR A PICNIC!" I repeated.

"YES, it IS!" Grant yelled back, tearing his fixed stare from my legs.

"Don't you ever just wanna take the day off and play hooky?" I asked, letting the breeze sweep over my bare thighs. 

"You're a bit of a free-spirit, aren't you Barbara?" The professor observed.

"Anything wrong with that? Is that a sign of having a particular personality disorder, or something?" I smiled, brushing the hair from my eyes.

"No. As a matter of fact, it probably means you're a healthy, well-adjusted young woman," he answered, with the hint of a wink in his eye.

"Young? Ha, not hardly! Unless being in your fifties is considered young."

"Ah the wonders of perception. I would have guessed early forties," he politely stated, when I suddenly noticed his seat belt wasn't buckled. It hadn't occurred to me until then that his sling prevented him from buckling up.

Quickly pulling over to the curb, I leaned across his lap. "I'm afraid neither one of us are as good at observing as we should be. Naughty us, we forgot our seatbelts," I said, reaching over to grab his safety buckle.

In the process of pulling the belt across his lap, my arm brushed against the distinct signs of an erection. I stopped immediately, wrapped my fingers around his rod, and brought my eyes to his. "Well, that's one less thing you need to have the doctors check. That seems to work just fine," I leaned in to whisper in his ear, fixing a tighter grip. "AHHH!" His back arched, while his head swiveled from side to side. Letting go of him, I returned to my seat and strapped my safety belt over my shoulder and between my boobs. That gave him something else to ponder, as I shifted into reverse. 

"Sorry 'bout that. I didn't mean to embarrass you," I mentioned, placing a hand on the back of his seat to twist myself backwards. "Just checking traffic, what are you checking?" I added, practically thrusting my tits at him.

"Just checking your tits, actually. They're incredible!" He surprised me.


Back to School Special



"You think so?" I slowly turned back to pull out into traffic.

"And, just for the record, you didn't embarrass me," he stated.

"Okay--next time I'll try harder, how's that?" I returned, shooting him a sexy stare.

Pulling into the clinic's parking lot, I located an open spot near the entrance and parked. Collecting his things, he thanked me for the lift.

"Won't you be needing a ride home?"

"I'll call Sandra. She can pick me up from here."

"That's silly. I mean, why have her drive all the way into town, when your place is right on my way home?" 

"How do you know where I live?" Grant questioned.

"Route 12, right? Near Twin Corners, right?"

"Yes, that is correct. But, how do you..."

"I used to work in R&D. I got pretty good at researching, and as you might have noticed, "development" kinda came naturally," I laughed, and stuck out my chest.

Grant gave me his widest grin. Returning his books back behind the seat, he shot me another sexy smile, and promised not to be too long. As he headed toward the clinic, I wondered whether my flirting was over the top. "God, for an older guy, he definitely has the smoldering sexy thing going on!" I sighed, and realized the professor wasn't the only one turned on. 

Climbing out of the jeep, I found my way inside the clinic, and the restroom. I wiggled out of my damp panties, redid my makeup, and went back to the jeep to take in the sun. Stripping off my white shirt, I laid back in my tube top to tan my shoulders. I dozed off for maybe ten minutes, when I heard the jeep door open.

"Well, that was fast. What's the prognosis Professor?" I asked, reaching up to shadow my eyes from the sun's glare.

"Just a sprain, like I suspected, and please call me Bill."

"Great! That still gives us plenty of time for that picnic," I winked, and started up the jeep.

"You and your picnic. Okay, but let's get out of town first."

"That's a deal. I know the perfect spot," I added, pulling out of the lot.

"Don't most picnics require things like food and refreshments?" He asked, now completely focusing on my tits billowing from the pink tube top.

"Well, if you feel we need to meet a requirement, I suppose we could stop there and stock up," I mentioned, motioning at the corner liquor store just up ahead. 

"I like the way you think Barbara, almost as much as the way you look."

After scoring a pint of scotch, we got back on the road that would take us out of town. Keeping my eyes on the road, peripherally I could tell Bill was still appreciating my curves. Between watching my flying skirt, tan legs, and bouncing melons, I figured he had plenty to keep himself entertained. 

"Are you thirsty?"

"GOD, I thought you'd never ask! Here, give me some of that," I said, taking a healthy swig from the pint-sized brown-sacked bottle.

"So what's the attraction? I mean, for all you know, I could be some dirty old man," the professor pointed out, taking a swig.

"One can only hope," I laughed, taking the bottle for another hit. "Maybe I'm just after a decent grade, and decided this would be one way to get it," I snickered.

"Hmm, I suppose that makes sense. Here, I was hoping I had this Svengali-thing happening, where you are inexplicably drawn to me."

"Like I would be swept away by you and forced to obey your every whim?"

"Yes, something like that," he laughed. "I would command you to, say, bare your chest, and..."

Before he could finish, I hooked two fingers in my cleavage and yanked down my tube top. Turning briefly toward him, I hoisted my right boob up, leaned down, and licked my hard nipple.

"Oh my GOD, Barbara!" He shouted, before frantically checking the road for any casual observers.

"See I told ya I could embarrass you," I grinned, before pulling my top back up.

The weathered road sign said: Dawson's Ranch, Exit 2 miles. 

"I DO love watching you!" The professor shook his head. 

"Good, cause I like watching you too," I purred, feeling my juices starting to flow.

"We've lived here for damn near five years, and I don't believe I've ever taken this road," Bill stated, as I turned onto Dawson Road.

"Really? Then you've missed a pretty neat little hideaway. They have camping, a good-sized fishing pond, swimming, after-the-show necking, and picnicking, of course. It's quite popular during the season. I doubt there is anybody here this early though," I smiled.

"I suppose you've taken advantage of all those activities?"

"Oh yeah, at one time or another... when I was younger... except for the picnicking. I suppose I was saving that for us," I said, reaching over to squeeze his thigh.

My touch must have surprised him, as his hand topped mine. Nervously, like some young virgin faced with his first chance for sex, his hand remained on mine to keep it still. Driving through a series of tall trees, I spotted a secluded picnic area. Pulling to a stop among a group of ash and maples, it was amazing how instantly and totally quiet it was. Jumping out of the jeep, I reopened the half-empty bottle. Brushing away some leaves from a comparatively clean picnic table, I stepped on the seat to sit on top.

"Don't you just love that smell?" I inhaled deep, before taking another shot of scotch.

Lying down on the tabletop, I stared up past the diffused sunlight, through a myriad of tree limbs. "I like the way you smell," Bill said, standing at the end of the table near my head.

I refocused on his upside-down face above me. "Thanks," I replied, and reached up to rub his arms. Raising and bending one knee, I felt my skirt tumble down, as I continued to rub. "Does it hurt?" I whispered, referring to his injured arm still in its sling.

"No. I took my medication; mighty good pain killer," he smiled and lowered his face closer to mine.

Turning my face to line my lips up with his, I parted them. Slowly closing my eyes, I awaited his lips on mine. I waited. I waited longer, and then felt his arms backing away from my touch. "Something I said... bad breath or what?" I opened my eyes.

"No, you are one sexy woman. I just really enjoy watching you," he stated again, backing away and adjusting his crotch.

"Hmm, so you like to be teased, is that it?" I asked, feeling my pussy twinge.

"Yes, something like that," the straight-laced professor said, unzipping the fly on his dark slacks.

"I can do teasing; pretty good at it actually," I simmered, bringing myself up to swivel around on the table.

Lowering my head, I struck a seductive pose, and slowly pulled my skirt up. He dug in his pants and pulled out a sizable boner, as I lowered my elastic tube top. Keeping my legs together, I bent them. Shifting his focus from my naked chest to my legs, I knelt on the table. Watching the reserved teacher blatantly stroking his emerging erection, I rose up on my knees. Holding my skirt up with one hand, my other went straight to my naked wet pussy. Grabbing my boob, while my other hand worked faster on my blonde bush, I shook my hair back. 

"Oh yeah, you ARE one very sexy female!" He declared, and hard-stroked his full erection.

"A sexy female that needs a nice big cock in her pussy," I amended his sentence.

Shaking my pendulous boobs from side to side, my hand gripped my skirt. Yanking up a good chunk of fabric, I needed for him to see my index and third fingers probing my dampness.

"God DAMN Bill! Can't you see how fucking warm, and wet, and ready I am for you?" I pleaded.

I wanted--needed this no touch scenario of his to fail, but the sign of precum coating his cockhead told me otherwise.

"Come on Baby! Come on my face! Come in my pussy! Won't you do me NOW?"

When he took a few steps toward me, I thought sure he would lay me out, pick one of my options, and drill me. Our eyes fixed on each other with a singular lust for each other. However, instead of coming closer, he glanced at the jeep, and started edging toward it. Holding my drenched hand in place, I got down from the table. Keeping a safe distance from him, I watched his eyes motion me toward the jeep.

In a slow, unemotional, directorial voice, he said, "I want you to fuck yourself for me."

"I am Baby; just tell me what you want..." My body trembled with wanton lust.

He said nothing, merely stared at the front seat of the jeep, then back at me. My eyes trained on his, as his focus settled on the object of his desire. It was becoming clear to me what he wanted. Stepping into the front seat, I stretched my leg across the middle of the jeep to straddle the floor gearshift knob. I tucked the hem of my skirt into the waist, and spread my super-greased labia with both hands. Feeling the thick, rounded, smooth knob on my pussy, I shifted my gaze quickly to his grinning face.

"That's it Baby! Now, fuck yourself!" He insisted, pumping his hardon to the brink of ejaculation.

My ass ground against the dashboard, as I gently worked my slick labia up and down. More and more of the knob disappeared into my hole, until I felt it brush against my clit. However crude and sick this scene was playing out soon evaporated, and was replaced with a full-out erotic feeling of necessity. Whether or not the professor got his rocks off, this horny gal was going to satisfy herself the best she could. 

Using my fingers to peel back my labia, I started riding that fucking gearshift like a nymphomaniac on a day pass. God, I needed to be fucked; moreover, I needed to come! Grunts and moans filled the quiet, leafy, picnic area, as the two of us got off on mutual knob-jobs. Throwing my head back, after a constant series of well-placed thrusts, I grabbed hold of my swinging jugs. Letting an orgasmic wave sweep through me, I watched Bill empty his load. 

He caught a fair amount of his white, creamy cum in his left hand. When he extended his saturated hand toward me, I leaned down to taste his fresh juice. Instead of letting me lick, he wrapped his entire cum-covered hand around my face. Nearly every inch of my face was covered in his wet, sticky deposit. My first true voyeur had just anointed me; the eroticism of the moment nearly took my breath away.

"God damn, I need to be fucked, Professor!" I reissued my intentions.

"I can see that. How about you drop me off at home. I'll make sure you get fucked," he promised, while he tucked away his goodies.

Disengaging myself from the gearshift, I smoothed down my skirt, pulled up my tube top, and impatiently restarted the jeep. "But your wife, what will she..."

"Let me worry about Cassandra." He stated emphatically as we sped down the rural highway.

**************

Sandy's Special Brew

Feeling Bill's starchy cum drying on my face, the pungent odor filled my senses. I couldn't recall ever being so openly wicked or more aroused. He finally directed me where to turn off onto a gravel road. The sun made a slow retreat over the rolling western hills, when we pulled up to a conservative two-story farmhouse. Pulling the white shirt over my tube top, I grabbed my purse, and strode a few feet behind him to the house.

Once inside the recently updated home, Bill continued down a hall. I followed sharply behind, taking in modern pictures hanging on deep colored walls. "There must be a bathroom around here somewhere," I thought, needing to clean up, in case we ran into his wife.

By the time I saw what appeared to be a restroom, we were greeted in the kitchen. "Well there you are. I was wondering what was keeping you," a shorthaired, petite brunette said, before shooting me an extensive stare. I finger-combed my wind-blown locks, as I focused my attention on her, and then to her husband.

"This is Barbara. Barbara, this is Cassandra, my wife," he offered unemotionally.

"Hi, call me Sandy," she said, offering me her tiny hand with a half-smile.

"Hi, I'm Barb--I mean, you can call me Barb," I returned her semi-smile with a nervous one of my own.

"Barbara is the student I told you about. She was kind enough to give me a ride home." Professor Grant said, taking a bar stool from the granite countertop.

"Very nice. I mean, that was nice of you to go out of your way, and everything," she added, releasing her hand from mine. 

She immediately wet to the refrigerator. Pulling a tall sleek pitcher filled with what appeared to be tea, she methodically went to the cupboard for glassware.

"Oh, it was hardly out of my way." I said. "God, is this ever awkward," I thought, nervously fiddling with my purse.

The short, maybe 5-foot tall, woman, probably in her mid-forties, went calmly about icing and pouring three tall glasses of tea. I looked plaintively at Bill for some sign of what to do next. Suddenly cold, he wouldn't return my stares. Taking his glass, he got up and walked past us, heading back down the hall.

"I'll be back in a bit." He mumbled.

Now I really felt like getting the hell out of there. Flat-chested Sandy in her short, one-piece sleeveless sundress reached into another cupboard for something, as I patiently, fretfully watched.

"Please... have a seat, Barb, and relax, for God's sake."

"Thanks, but I really should be going. My husband will be wondering..."

"Oh come now. I insist. At least finish your tea." She instructed, flashing a more welcoming smile this time.

"O-okay, thanks," I relented, took a stool and gazed into the tall amber glass before me.

"So, you're married?" She started, now seated across from me at the counter.

"Yes. Donny and I have been married over 30 years," I admitted, taking a drink of tea. "Hmm, this is good--an herbal tea?"

"Yeah, raspberry or some shit," She shot back, clearly not interested in discussing tea. "You're older then? I mean you're not OLD, just... being married so long..."

"Yeah, I guess so, why do you ask?" Taking a longer drink.

"Bill must really like you, I mean for him to let you take him..."

"I'm sorry. Am I missing something here?" I asked, confused by the direction of the conversation.

Taking another drink, I suddenly felt flushed yet warm at the same time. Sandra must have thought I was passing out or having a fit, when she bounced off her chair. Coming around the island counter, she put her little hand to my cheek.

"Are you okay? I didn't mean to upset you Barb. Here, have another drink," she pampered me, as I finished the glass. 

"I'm okay, thanks," I said, now feeling somewhat nauseous.

"I don't think so. You look a bit flushed. Maybe you should lie down," Sandy said, cupping my face in her hands.

Her comforting touch and manner was unexpectedly soothing. As cold and unfeeling as she first came off, I was now forming a different opinion of the petite wife and her short, short black hair. When she helped me off the stool, I felt lightheaded. Leading me into a large family room, she helped me down to a leather couch. Looking around and trying to regain my focus in the spinning room, my eyes locked on her short, well-toned legs, and perfect derrière.

I recalled thinking the combination of booze with no food must have done me in. It never occurred to me that the tea might have had something to do with my shaky condition. For some reason, even in my altered state, my senses were perfectly tuned to my strange, surprise hostess. When she came back with another full glass of tea, and sat on the edge of the couch, I couldn't take my eyes off of her. 

"I don't know what's come over me. Maybe I should call my husband," I said, gazing into her large dark eyes.

"Nonsense, you just had a little spell. I'll bet you'll feel just fine soon," she said, gently running her fingers under the open collar of my shirt. Dark penetrating eyes held my attention, as her fingers nimbly undid my shirt buttons. When I glanced down, her hand lifted my chin back up to divert my eyes back to hers. 

"That's a pretty top. I love the color," she smiled, rimming the crest of my tube top.

"Thanks; that's a darling dress. Did you get that in town?" What a stupid reply. Making casual conversation with total strangers has never been my forte.

"Why thanks. No, I think I picked this one up in Chicago."

"So, you're from Chicago?" I asked, locked on her eyes, as her hand brushed over my hardening nipples.

"Not really. I've lived in many different places, until I married Bill," she added, lowering her face closer to mine. Her short fingers softly yet firmly gripped the elastic ribbing of my top. "How can you possibly breathe in such tight elastic?" She asked, letting her tongue sweep across her lower lip.

"Guess I never thought about it until now," I said, feeling a shudder race through me.

"You know, I won't be embarrassed, if you need more room to breathe," she whispered, closing in on me.

My hand resting at my side inadvertently moved to slide against her leg. I giggled timidly, as she brought both her hands up to pull down my top. My other hand subconsciously reached to cover my chest. She was bent over so far, I felt helplessly surrounded. Besides, her sweet perfume enveloped me. "There now, isn't that better?" She leaned back, giving me a short reprieve.

"Oh my, no wonder Bill picked you; what a great set of tits!"

"Bill picked me?" I grimaced, as the professor's wife started fondling my melons.

"Yes Dear, and I didn't even have to ask. I knew it!" She teased.

"How? How can you tell such a thing?" My breath shortened, as her grasp on my boobs tightened.

"Here, I'll show you," she said, and lowered her face to mine again. This time, she kissed my cheek. Her tender lips opened. Feeling her tongue licking my cheek, I felt uncommonly warm between my thighs. When she had licked both my cheeks, her mouth found mine. Closing my eyes, my mouth automatically opened to accept her tongue. That's when I tasted the unmistakable remnants of her husband's cum. I knew immediately the professor's anointing was meant to mark me for his wife. 

"Oh God! He said he would get me fucked..."

"As soon as you dropped him off, right?" She completed my sentence, then ran her hand up under my skirt. "And, you actually thought a certifiable voyeur was going to actually fuck you?"

"I-I don't know. I only wanted..." I stuttered, while her hand inched its way over the crest of my nylons and up my thighs.

"You wanted to be fucked. You NEEDED to be fucked," Sandra stated, like she must have said how many times to how many unsuspecting females.

"Yes, YES! I needed to be fucked!" I yelled as the palm of her dainty hand circled my furry mons.

"You still need it Baby, don't you? Don't you!" She repeated, rimming my wet hole with three of her fingers.

My entire body heaved and fell at her touch. Glaring into her dark devilish eyes, I tried shaking away from the unnatural idea of letting her screw me. This only heightened her passion for me. First tonguing, then biting my earlobe, her harsh whispers of every conceivable filthy word and expression filled my brain. The subdued part of me seemed to vaporize, as an insatiable erotic other-self took over. Spreading my legs to the max, my hand raced between my lower lips to pamper my clit. Sensing her drenched fingers gathering into a 'V', I gripped her wrist, and then her lower arm.

The size of her arm was hardly any longer or wider than several larger cocks I've taken in the past. At least that was my warped rationale, as I pulled her arm to penetrate my vagina. "Yes, oh GOD YES!" My eyes pleaded, feeling her entire hand fill my pussy. I was a mass of wanton sensations, while I pulled more of her tiny hand inside. Hoisting my tan-marked pelvis higher, I watched with labored breaths. This was no gyno-exam. This was no puny gearshift knob. This was the fucking I craved. Grabbing hold of my tits, I let her control things down below.

The slightest twists of her wrist sent severe shock waves through me, which left me begging for more. Shaking my head wildly, I urged her on. "OH GOD, just fuck me-- FUCK MEE!" She eagerly complied, shoving her entire forearm in my cunt. Then, like a well-oiled piston, her arm became my pseudo-cock. Writhing in the hideous, erotic joy of it, I rode her faster and faster. After several minutes, I was coming on all cylinders, and still begging for more. 




Back to School Special



Perspiration poured and flew from my face and hair, as I rode her arm to one final orgasm. At least I thought it was the last one, until she started withdrawing her arm. "Is that the way you like it Barb?" She asked rhetorically. 

"OH YEAH! Hard and fast, and God, it's SO deep!"

Knowing she would soon pull her hand out, I anticipated her wrist on my clit. Instead she locked her other hand behind my head, turned her embedded arm slightly, and began to make a fist. Like some gigantic cockhead expanding in my vagina, I nearly jumped out of my skin. "H-O-L-Y S H I T!!" I screamed, as her fist tightened and expanded against my clitoris.

"Ecstasy Baby," she hummed, as my eyes and voiceless mouth remained open in total awe. All I could return was a quick sacrificial nod, as another ultimate thrill shot through my quivering nervous system.

"Yep, that's why they call it Ecstasy," the petite minx laughed.

Locked in some twisted state of suspended animation, my brain slowly processed her words. Reaching down between my legs, I gradually pulled her hand out. Catching my breath, I yanked my tube top up, and scooted to the back of the couch.

"You fucking drugged me?" I asked, pulling my shirt back on.

Her sole response was a simple, devious smile.

"You are ONE crazy bitch! I must be out of my damn mind, letting your husband... that fucking asshole! And, I suppose he's watching all this somewhere? Fucking pervert -- Fucking PERVERT!" I screamed up at the ceiling, knowing the voyeuristic asshole had to be around somewhere.

"Don't be so upset," Sandra said, soothing my arm. "I dropped some too; you don't see me complaining." She said, slowly licking and savoring my juices from her wicked fingers.

"Man, both of you guys are loony-tunes. I'm getting the fuck outta here now!" I announced and grabbed my purse.

Professor Voyeur suddenly appeared from some unknown hideout. "Oh please Barb, don't be mad. We were going to invite you and your husband over for a party this weekend," he added.

"You people are strictly nuts, aren't you?" I laughed, shook my head and headed for the front door.

"Well, if you change your mind, the party is this Saturday, about eight o'clock." Sandra grinned and poured herself another drink.

Staring back at the two of them, I shook my head in disgust, yanked open the front door and made my exit. Peeling out of their driveway to leave an exclamation point, I was soon back on the highway, and homeward bound.

****************

No Chains, No Pain

"Is that you, Hotstuff?" I heard Donny yell from the family room.

"Hey," I issued my normal reply, dropping my purse and keys on the hall table. "What have you been up to?" He yelled again. Considering my late arrival, I suppose he would need some sort of story.

"I'm gonna change. Be right down." I barked back and headed upstairs to our bedroom. 

"Well, look at you... you really ARE some hot stuff!" My hubby caught me, before I could get halfway up the stairs. "Are those thigh-highs? You're not hittin' on those young students, are you?" He laughed before downing another swig of beer.

"Just let me change, Donny. I'll be right back," I bargained.

My defiant tone must have made an impression. He turned and headed back to the family room, while I hoofed it upstairs to change. Jumping in for a quick shower, I let the warm water wash away any residue from my misguided adventure.

Pouring a fresh cup of coffee, I tightened my robe, and crashed on the family room couch. "So, how was your day?" Hubby asked, still obviously concerned with my earlier choice of attire.

"I wasn't hitting on students, if that's what's bothering you," I gave him the good news first.

"Well I'm smart enough to know that wasn't the sort of outfit you'd wear to tea with the ladies," Donny winked from his recliner.

"Funny, you should say THAT," I rolled my eyes at the uncanny irony.

I then proceeded to give him the highlights of my sordid afternoon with Professor Voyeur and his twisted mistress. The more I described the incidentals of the sick episode, the more Donny's eyes lit up. By the time I recalled the erotic scene at the Grant's house, he was visibly aroused, and wanting to know every sordid detail. I have to admit the retelling was somewhat cathartic for me as well.

"So, are we gonna take them up on the party invite?" My husband asked with a degree of sincerity.

"NO--no way! After pulling that kind of shit, how could I ever trust either one of them?" I reasoned.

"Oh come on Honey. It might be fun--and I'll be there, to make sure things don't get out of hand."

"Yeah right, like I could trust you with that sexy little witch."

"Hey, it's not like they chained you up and tortured you. Sounds to me like the worst that happened was you had multiple orgasms. Hell, after coming on to her husband like that, I'm surprised she didn't put you on a rack or worse," he reasoned.

"I suppose you're right," I weakened. "One thing is for sure. If we do decide to go, you have to promise not to let me out of your sight, okay?" I tentatively agreed with that one exception.

"Okay, sounds like a deal to me. Now let's go up to bed, so you can take care of this," Donny said, grabbing his expanding package.

Grinning with renewed anticipation, I flipped off the lights.

****************

A Glory-us Eruption

Back at school the following day, I kept a safe distance from the professor. His cold calculating demeanor made it hard for me to detect any real changes. It wasn't until I was seated in the cafeteria for lunch, that I noticed he and Mark headed toward me.

"And how are you doing today, Barbara?" He charismatically smiled. 

"Just fine, and you?" I returned his smile cordially, considering Mark's presence.

"Excellent for a Friday. Have you met Mark Albertson?" 

"No, don't believe I have," I smiled up at Grant's tall, blonde, and hunky colleague.

"Pleased to meet you Barb. Bill's had nothing but good things to say about you," he said, wrapping his large hand around mine for a shake. 

My hand was quickly swallowed up in his tight grip, as our eyes met. Holding the handshake longer than socially suitable, he continued.

"So I hear you might be joining us tomorrow night," Mark said, finally releasing my hand.

It was obvious by their body language, the two of them wanted me to ask them to sit down. "We just might. I haven't had a chance to check with Donny yet."

"Donny is... your husband?" 

"Yes."

"Well, my wife Elisabeth and I hope you two can make it. It will be fun."

"Really, and what makes it so fun?" 

"Oh it's just fun getting to know new people, don't you think? Besides, Bill has plenty of toys for girls and boys. It's always fun to see his acquisitions, " Mark smiled and winked.

"I see. Well, that does sound tempting," I replied, running my fingers through my hair.

The noticeable bulge in Mark's pants proved he was sold on his delivery. I found it to be expectedly lame, yet cute. They soon made their excuses and left me to my meal.          Saturday was another sun-kissed, beautiful day that wound down into a pleasant early evening. I opted to dress casual conservative, not wanting to come off too tempting. A pair of jeans with a bulky blouse was my first choice. 

"Geez Barb, at least wear your cutoffs," Donny begged, as we readied to leave.

"No, then I'll have to change my top and I'm definitely not going to give anybody any ideas," I insisted.

"Not even me? You know I love it when you show off a little T and A."

"You're so damn spoiled. Just remember our deal," I cautioned.

"Well then, it would be a lot easier to keep and eye on you, if you gave me more to look at," he said.

"Oh okay! I'll be right back. God, what I won't do for a little attention," I murmured, while I dug through my dresser for my cutoffs, a white lace pushup bra, and a tightly knitted, spaghetti-strapped top.

"Much better!" My hubby's eyes scanned my legs and cleavage, as I climbed into the front seat of the SUV.

We arrived the Grant's house right at sunset. Hearing music coming from the back of the renovated two-story, we headed around the rear. Smoking bar-be-que caught my senses, as we reached a spacious patio. The sliding glass door opened. Sandra, dressed in another plain sundress, welcomed us.

"Come on in you guys!" She seemed distracted, yet full of smiles. I introduced my husband, whom she seemed instantly taken with. After shaking his hand, she held on to usher us into the lower level of the house.

"Barb, I believe you've already know Mark," Sandra confirmed, as the tall, broad-shouldered teacher greeted Donny and I with warm handshakes. 

"Bill's showing off his latest acquisition to Elisabeth over there," the hunky teacher motioned to a corner of the basement with beer in hand.

"Gosh, if I didn't know better..." My hubby started, taking a few measured steps toward an enclosure that appeared to be the size of an indoor sauna. "Oh my God! Barb, you know what that is, don't you? Kinda brings back some wild memories," Donny snickered, as I examined the old structure.

"Just looks like an old outhouse to me," I returned with a questioning stare.

Mark gave Donny a sharp nudge to the side with his elbow. "That one's from the old Ventura, remember?" Mark winked.

By now my curiosity peaked, as I ambled over to open the weathered door to the narrow boxy structure. When I went to open it, I heard voices and pulled my hand away. The door swung open and out stepped a stunning strawberry blonde. The busty lady about my height had a tall drink in her hand and a sneaky grin as she stepped out, followed by our host.

"BARB, you're here!" Professor Bill announced, shutting the door behind him. "I'm so glad you decided to come, and you must be Donny?" He asked shaking our hands. "This is Elisabeth, Mark's better half." 

After cordial smiles and salutations, Donny verified the Ventura reference with the professor. "Yes, I picked it up for practically nothing a few weeks ago," he shared.

"And, just what would you call it?" I inquired.

"I suppose the correct term is a peepshow, but I'm sure there are other names for them," Bill responded and reopened the door for our inspection.

"Ah, it all made sense to me now," I said, gazing into the dark booth. A small video screen appeared at the end of the rectangular room, after Bill switched on a small overhead lamp. Stepping inside the claustrophobic thirty or forty-year-old enclosure, I detected the distinct musty smell of age and who-knows-what. Donny and the professor stepped in behind me and closed the door. I felt an immediate breeze coming from a small ancient automatic-on fan, when the door closed.

"Doesn't this bring back the old days!" Wide-eyed Donny took in every detail, like he had just climbed into a vintage '57 Chevy. "I, I mean WE made some fun memories in booths like this, didn't we Honey?" He smiled, digging in his pocket.

"I'll have you know, those fond memories must have been with one of your slutty girlfriends. Either that or you got me so drunk I don't remember."

My husband maneuvered himself past us to the screen and dropped a quarter in the well-used slot. "Are you shittin' me? It STILL WORKS! Wow!" My husband laughed, as an ancient porn movie from the '70's appeared on the small screen, complete with sound. "Jesus, I remember this... that's Johnny Wad, or whatever his real name was." My perverted husband probably knew all their names. Taking several swigs of my beer, I watched the guys take in the movie, already in progress, like they were viewing some long lost episode of The Honeymooners or I Love Lucy.

"You mean your suitors never treated you to a peepshow, Barb?" Bill asked, running his cold beer against my naked arm.

"Oh I'm sure one or two might have talked me into it," I batted my eyes. "Goodness, look at the hose on that clown!" My eyes widened at the sight of Johnny what's-his-name taking on two bushy young sluts.

"Yeah, it takes two girls to handle Johnny. Hmm, just look at what those poor girls have to do, just to get him hard enough to fuck." My hubby noted, as we watched the aspiring porn queens double suck Johnny's slinky kielbasa. 

As the three of us drank our beers and silently watched the movie, I sensed this wasn't perhaps the normal host doing a show-n-tell of some prized antique acquired from some local estate sale. Suddenly the sound went dead and the movie abruptly stopped. 

"Well, that was fun," I quipped and turned to leave.

"Wait Honey; I've got plenty of quarters," Donny claimed with excited anticipation.

"I think that's my clue to disappear," Bill announced, and then whispered something to my husband, before making his escape from the weathered whacking shack.

Donny's arms encircled me, as I reluctantly turned back to view the screen. "This isn't very social of us to ignore the rest of the party," I said, feeling my hubby's hands slowly working their way inside my top and down my shorts. John Holmes' large member stretched from one end of the small screen to the other, as the two whores sucked and licked to their hearts' content.

"I'll bet no one will notice, at least not for a while," Donny schmoozed and undid my shorts.

"What did Bill tell you before he left, anyway?" I asked, reaching behind my back to grasp Donny's already exposed hardon.

Hubby pulled his hand from my wet pussy to point at a fair-sized hole in the booth. Funny I hadn't noticed it before. "You know what that is, don't you?" Donny quizzed, as he pulled my top up and over my bra.

"Hmm, let me guess... not a mail drop?"

"Ha! That all depends how you spell M-A-L-E, I suppose," he laughed. "Actually I believe they refer to it as a Glory Hole."

"I see. And just who gets all the glory?" I asked, knowing full well that anonymous cocks are considered the designated recipients. By now, Donny had deposited three more quarters in the slot, and I must admit to being more than just a little turned on. When he coaxed me into dropping my shorts and panties, I was ready to bend over. Spreading my legs, I felt his ready cock slice through my silken lips. "Oh, now that feels good!" I admitted, reaching behind to urge further penetration.

The dated cornball soundtrack from the vintage porno rang in my ears, as hubby pumped more and more of his seven-plus inches into me from behind. I was so caught up in the eroticism of fucking only a few feet from the other guests; I failed to notice the presence of an intruder. I was actually in the process of twisting my head back to exhort Donny, when my cheek was greeted by a surprise glory-holer.

"What the HELL!" I sprang back.

"HA! Well lookie there, we have company!" Donny quipped, as we stared at the sight of a medium-sized rubber dick comically flapping up and down.

"Jesus, it's waving at us!" I concluded.

"Not waving at ME," Donny observed, keeping up a steady plunging pace.

"Somebody's playing games out there," I stated loud enough to be heard outside. "And I suppose you'd get a thrill if I sucked it?" I asked Donny, taking hold of the damn thing.

"I might. For sure I would, if it were the real deal," said my horny hubby, as he banged harder into my pussy.

I worked up a nice mouthful of saliva and spit it on the pseudo dick. A few long wet strokes later I took the damn thing in my mouth. The more I pumped and sucked on the flesh-colored phallus, the greater my reward from behind. Hubby was working me up to an admirable orgasm.. So much so, I hardly noticed our intruder had pulled a switch. One second my fist was clenching rubber. The next second, my hand was full of a rock-hard, flesh-covered cock. Both Donny and I were virtually on the edge of a shared climax, so I dared not make a big thing about it. Speaking of big things, the replacement cock was considerably longer and much thicker than its fake predecessor.

Without taking into account the identity of the surprise sperm donor, I opted to show off a bit. Sucking in as much cock as my mouth would accommodate, I heard a faint yet distinctive sigh from beyond the wall. Gripping the base of the intruder's finely circumcised cock, my lips closed tight around it. Grinding my teeth slightly up and down the entire length of his shaft, before long I was presented with a sweet deposit of precum. Mixing the precum with my saliva provided a nice audible lubricant. Now I could take the extra length of it easily into my throat. Sensing both attending cocks were on the verge of exploding, I whipped the intruder's meat out of my mouth. I jerked it hard and fast, while I worked on my own climax.

"God Baby! I'm coming," Donny's muted voice announced, just as the huge cannon in my grasp gloriously erupted. Like hot lava, thick white cum shot forth and then flowed over my gripping, pumping hand. Hubby popped his cork and proceeded to fill my love hole with a healthy dose of man gravy.

"OH YEAH Baby! Fill me up. Mmmmm," I uttered. Pushing my ass hard against him, while still tugging on my anonymous friend's muscle, I leaned down for a lick.

Donny's S.O.P. was to withdraw and peacefully go on his merry way. However, once he got a glimpse of me savoring what (up until then) he believed to be a dildo, he held his ground. "Is that what I think it is?"

Taking a long cum-soaked suck-and-lick, I turned back to show him my mouth filled with fresh jism. "I think we need to have your eyes checked, Honey," I grinned.

That look of total, utter amazement on his face was priceless. We both turned to look down at the glory hole. It was empty. "I can't believe it!" Donny sputtered, as I reached for my clothes.

"Can you believe THIS?" I turned back to him again, caressed the side of his face with my gooey drenched hand, and gave him a wide open-mouthed kiss. ****************

To See & Be Seen

By the time we collected ourselves and made our exit from the portable peep show, I was relieved to see whoever was immediately outside had disappeared. The mystery cock was to remain a mystery for the time being. Another middle-aged couple had recently arrived, and Sandra was playing atypical hostess. Donny excused himself to the bathroom, while I conducted my own tour of the place.

"Amazing what they've done with the place, isn't it?" Came a feminine voice from behind.

"Yes, appears to be quite a project," I said, turning to react to the 35-year-old buxom strawberry blonde.

"Barb, is it?" She asked.

"Yes... Elisabeth, right?" I smiled.

"Right! So have you seen the rest of it?" She wondered, and noticed I was without a drink. After shaking my head, she motioned us upstairs to view the rest of the Grant's renovation. I remember thinking; she doesn't look like the type to get caught up in any sordid activity. One could easily see, she definitely had the body and moves for all sorts of seduction, but there was a sort of sweetness in her manner... a sweetness that would certainly reject any untoward advances or improper behavior. The idea of Sandra and Elisabeth doing what the professor's wife had pulled on me the other day seemed inconceivable.

Considering her sweetness and down-home warmth, the question begged to be asked. "So, how long have you and Mark known the Grants?" I asked, as she poured me a glass of wine in the kitchen area.

"I guess Mark has known Bill for years. Mark and I have only been married for a year, so I've only know them about that long..." Elisabeth remarked, taking a sip of her wine.

"Ah, so you're newlyweds! That explains a lot," I observed.

"What's that?" She asked, as we relaxed on the same couch Sandra had previously accosted me on.

"Nothing I guess, just that Sandy is a little different, don't you think?" I offered.

"Sandy? So you know her pretty well then?" The blue-eyed blonde in her mid-thirties asked. Dressed in a short white skirt and modest turquoise sleeveless top, she had to be toting the added weight of an e-cupped or larger sized bra.




Back to School Special



"I wouldn't say I REALLY know her, just met her for the first time last week, actually," I replied, straightening my back.

After a long pause, which included some mutual wine tasting, the sexy blonde must have needed to further explain her relationship. "We know about her tendencies. I mean she's never tried much with me, but..."

"So, you think she's a lesbian?" I blurted out.

"A lesbian! Oh no... I mean... maybe. I don't know that for sure. Why, have you heard something?" Elisabeth balked, perhaps not wanting to know too much.

"Hey, don't get me wrong. I think she's just an outwardly affectionate person. Some people can take that the wrong way, I suppose." I opted not to be the one to cast the first stone.

"Oh good, I see you two are taking care of each other," Sandra surprised us.

"Hope you don't mind Sandy," Elisabeth called her hostess by a previously unused nickname.

Sandra's eyes shot me a quick glare. "No, no, it's a party, darn it. Let me get us another bottle, Liz."

The professor's wife brought a tall, already opened bottle of wine to the long coffee table in front of us. "Marge and Dave couldn't stay --babysitter problems, or some bullshit. So, it's just the six of us," Sandra explained, while she poured us each a glass from the new bottle. "So what did you think of Bill's little peepshow?" Sandy pointed her question directly at Elisabeth. 

The busty blonde feigned a blush, took a long drink, and said something inconsequential about the professor's latest play toy. Recalling the last time Sandy poured me a glass of something, I made some feeble excuse about needing to find my husband. 

Our hostess handed me a full glass, as I got to my feet. "I believe the guys are in Bill's study down the hall." She confidentially half-whispered, before taking a seat next to Elisabeth on the couch.

"Thanks, I'll just check and be right back," I smiled at the younger blonde, as she took another long swig from a fancy wine glass.

At the end of a long hall, the sounds of deep voices led me to the right door. I silently stepped in to see all three guys standing in a corner of the large room with their backs to me. "Hi Barb, whatcha doin, checking up on me?" Donny snickered, without turning to recognize my presence.

"Yeah... well, I..." I stopped, wondering how he already knew what I was up to.

It wasn't until I came closer to their huddle; I saw the source of their concentration. Four separate wall-mounted TV monitors caught my attention. Viewing the far right monitor, I noticed Sandy and Elisabeth on the screen. 

So many things made instant sense in that defining moment. This was Professor Voyeur's command central. His own secret perverted bunker, and he was sharing all its bells and whistles with these two perverts-in-waiting. Not knowing whether to immediately take offense at being surreptitiously viewed, I decided to lay back and discover how extensive and objectionable this all was.

"So, here's where it all happens," I stated, unconsciously taking a drink of possibly tainted wine to relax.

"Hi Honey! See I told you I'd keep an eye on you at the party, and I'm keeping my promise," Donny laughed.

"That's funny--HA! I think I understand the professor's interest in all of this, but what's with you two perverts?"

"Hey Barb, I resemble that remark!" Mark winked, knowing full well how overused that pun is. Whatever they were drinking was doing its job. That was painfully obvious.

My hubby and Bill were content on watching the current homemade sitcom starring Sandra and Elisabeth. Mark broke from the pack, enough to let me squeeze in between him and Donny. Taking another casual sip of wine, I found myself strangely attracted to their new pastime.

"Oh yeah, she's quite friendly. We had a great time the other day." Sandy's voice came over the surround speaker system. 

"That wasn't her in the peep show was it? Asked the blonde, downing the rest of her wine.

"Oh yeah it was. It looked like she "enjoyed" herself in there!" Sandy noted, and rushed to refill the blonde's glass.

"So, did you?" Mark snuggled close to me and whispered.

"Did I what?" I shot back, feeling his hand on my back.

"Did you enjoy the peepshow?" 

"Hmph, YOU'LL never know." I was taken back by the inference.

"Yeah, she did! Come on Honey and admit it. You loved every inch of it," Donny submitted, never tearing his gaze from the screen.

"Oh shut up. I'm sure the good professor here enjoyed it, didn't you professor? Or did everybody get to enjoy it!" I yelled, before taking the last of my wine.

"Don't get upset Barb. It's all in fun, don't ya know," quipped Bill.

"Yeah fun for you; you twisted, perverted Peeping Tom!" I ranted and threw my empty wine glass, shattering it against the floor.

"Hey, hey, Barb. This isn't like you," started Donny. "Geez, you've had an audience before, and even relished it on occasion." Crossing my arms, I continued to pout.

"I know this guy is a little different. But I think he's pretty harmless. He just likes to watch." Donny took me aside, rubbing my folded arms.

"Well, he could have at least warned us or something," I said.

"That's not what's really bothering you, now is it?" My hubby reasoned, applying some soothing forehead kisses.

"I guess not. It's just..." I relented.

"Just that the guy didn't react to you like most guys do--right?"

I slowly nodded.

"You like it better when somebody like Mark here reacted to you in the peepshow, didn't you?" Donny stated, out of the blue.

"Mark! You mean it was his..."

"Sure, that's really no mystery. Come on, it's just simple deduction. It had to be him. Go on Man; tell her it was you," Donny directed his statement to the tall blonde teacher.

Mark's red face and rolling eyes told me Donny's assumption was right on. "But Mark, you and Elisabeth are frigging newlyweds, how could you?" I barked, with just an edge of a smile.

"I suppose there's no honor among thieves or guys with boob fixations, sorry," Mark shrugged. 

"Hey, you needn't apologize to me, but that sweet wife of yours..."

"Hmm yes, she is a sweetheart... and warm... and sexy... and perhaps busy, at the moment," Mark said as he pointed to the screen.

Following his direction, we turned to eavesdrop on the two women in the living room. Although the sound was barely audible, the action spoke louder than words. Sandy had already disposed of Elisabeth's blouse, and looked like she was zeroing in for the kill. 

My first inclination was to charge out of the study and warn Mark's young wife, but I found myself strangely attracted to viewing Sandy's art of seduction. She assuredly was quite talented at seducing women. Elisabeth's quiet beauty, charm, and that incredible body made the scene that much more captivating. The longer I ogled the two of them, and treated myself to my first taste of voyeurism, the harder it was to leave.

"Incredible, isn't she?" Mark noted proudly, sliding his hand gently up my arm.

I nodded, as Sandy's fingers adeptly lowered the blonde's bra straps and kissed her cleavage.

"Hope this doesn't upset you Mark, but your wife has one hot fucking body!" Donny proclaimed, noticeably shuffling from one leg to the other, to hide his emerging hardon.

"Hey Man, no offense taken. She is hot... but, I'd say we're both rather spoiled," Mark observed, lowering one of the spaghetti straps on my top.

"What do you think, Baby? We are pretty spoiled, aren't we?" My hubby posed, before casually letting my other strap down.

Like being shot with a tranquilizer dart, I stood frozen, with my eyes fixed on the screen. I knew the devious brunette must have spiked Elisabeth's wine, seeing how easy the blonde was submitting to her advances. By now, Sandy had undressed her victim down to her panties. My lips went dry. Had she spiked my wine as well?

A white mass of hair suddenly cut into my line of sight. "I'm sorry Barbara. It was never my intent to deceive you. Well, at least not today," added the professor, standing in front of the three of us.

Readjusting my focus to include his face, I accepted a new glass of freshly poured wine. "Can you folks ever forgive me for my peculiar fetish?"

"Hey Professor, to each his own. You just need to be more up front with Barb, ya know," Donny instructed. 

When I nodded in agreement, Grant leaned in and kissed my cheek. "I promise, from now on, I will ask permission," he whispered.

I realized that was the first time Professor Voyeur had actually kissed any part of me. "Well, that's a major step forward," I smiled. He blushed, and excused himself from blocking my view.

"You know, you're more than welcome to join the ladies, if you like? I can see you're enjoying yourself," Grant offered, before taking his place behind a long desk. By all appearances, that was his command center for surveillance and who-knows-what sort of vile things.

With my eyes now accustomed to the low light, I scanned the room and spied a long, dark leather couch. Backing away from Donny and Mark, I plopped down on the couch. "No, I'm pretty comfortable here, if you don't mind. Unless you guys wanna get rid of me..." I added, and stretched out to raise my feet to the couch. I took a drink of wine and looked for a place to sit it down. Mark and Donny were quick to join me on the couch and pull up an end table.

"Now why would we ever want to get rid of you, Baby," Donny patronized, while Mark took off my sandals to give me a foot massage.

"Mmm, that feels good. Donny, you need to take some lessons," I noted, taking only an occasional glance at the girls' monitor.

"I'd be happy to Honey. I just always seem to get stopped somewhere in between," Donny answered; letting his hands caress my neck and shoulders.

Leaning forward to sit up straight, I pulled my top up over my head. "Is this where you get stopped?" I winked and brought his hands to fondle my bra-covered double-d's.

"Yep, that's one of my favorite stopovers," Donny smiled, and leaned down to lick and kiss each mound pouting to break free.

"Mmmm, you'd better watch your buddy down there; he might creep up and find another stopover," I warned, sensing Mark's hands edging their way up my legs.

Grant must have been in voyeur heaven, watching the two ladies on screen, while the three of us got it on. To heighten the scene, he turned up the volume on their monitor. The sexiest female whimpers and moans filled the room. I edged my hand under Donny, down my torso, to unbuckle my jeans.

As Donny brought his face up to kiss me, his hands sneaked around to undo my bra clasp. Raising my arms to encircle his head, he pulled my bra off. Feeling Mark's warm touch inching up my thighs, I reacted by intensifying my kiss with hubby. Lost in a recently familiar freewheeling desire to be touched and caressed, I forced Donny's lips from mine. I pushed his head down my chest. He followed my lead; undid my jeans and slid them and my panties off in one quick maneuver. Spreading my legs wide, I forced his head between them.

That's when I got a nice long look at a shirtless Mark standing at the far end of the couch. While Donny's familiar tongue tracked its sweet way from one of my thighs to the next, I watched the tall blonde peel down his shorts. The sight of Mark's full erection, coupled with Donny's expert technique, was enough to send a delicious twinge straight through me. Arching my back, my hands fondled both of my meaty globes for Mark's pleasure. 

"See anything you might like?" I offered.

Stepping out of his shorts, he came to the other end of the couch, cock in hand. I happened to take a quick peek off to the side. The white-haired professor had already mounted a video camera on a tripod. In the midst of adjusting the settings, he glanced over at me. Our eyes locked. He gave me a quizzical nod, begging for my approval. I returned a sly smile.

With my hubby's tongue well on its way to thrilling me, and gazing up at Mark's impending offering, along with the professor's camera trained on us, a strange inspiration captivated me. "Why don't you join us, Bill? Yeah, put that camera shit away and come here a second." I more or less commanded.

My two couch suitors, not knowing quite what I was up to, looked at me with an audacity to try anything. I relished that fact, as our voyeur host came closer to the head of the couch. With all three men leering down at me from above, I began a slow sensuous writhe and grind show for them. Donny and Mark were already stripped clean and each flogging a pair of impressive hardons. Bill stood shyly between them, only occasionally readjusting his covered package. 

"Just wondered what being a voyeur feels like," I said directing self-conscious Bill to join his compatriots. "Hmm, this is kinda fun," I simmered, as the professor finally stepped out of his shorts. It seemed, once he realized all the focus was on me, he was quick to join in.

At first tempting them with pseudo attempts at pleasing myself, their positive reactions and growing cocks transported me to a calculated, full-out masturbation. I was in total control of them, while losing my own inhibitions. Grappling my boobs with one hand, I three-finger fucked my pussy with the other. I was soon on the edge of a sweet self-induced orgasm. I wondered how long they could sustain the distance between us, before unbridled lust would demand a more hands-on appreciation. Hell, I wondered the same thing of myself, for that matter. 

Edging themselves closer to me, probing hands seemed to reach out from everywhere to fondle me. "No, NO, I just want to watch and BE watched!" I instructed, between orgasmic waves. Trading a deep, all knowing leer with Bill, I was able to visualize for the first time where he was coming from. For me, such a feeling could never replace the joy of physically having someone, however the control aspect was alluring. 

Per-cum flew above me and rained like tiny glycerin droplets on my boobs, belly, and face. Each guy employed his own specific technique when it came to masturbation. It was a remarkable three-ring delight, and I was the proud ringmaster. Sensing the sheer joy of witnessing and wearing the remnants of multiple mini-explosions, I arched my back, spread my leg, and urged them on.

****************

A Rear Ended Revenge

"Gosh Barb, can't leave you alone for even a few minutes, can I?" interrupted Sandy's voice from out of nowhere. 

Suddenly it was over. My dreamy sperm shower was instantly halted. Obviously jealous at all attention focused on me, Sandy quickly ripped off her dress. She blatantly rubbed her naked skinny self against Donny and Mark, as she positioned herself in front of the couch.

"Hmm, such wonderfully productive cocks, just begging to be serviced! I'm ashamed of you Barb," she stated, taking my husband's dripping tool and Mark's proud hardon in each hand. 

When she knelt and began switch-sucking each of them, I suddenly realized two things: my show was over, and although Sandy had tendencies, she was most definitely NOT a lesbian. Feeling rather dejected, I gathered up my clothes and headed over to the wall of monitors to dress.

After pulling my panties back on, I glanced up at a now vacant monitor where Sandy and Elisabeth had been. I stuffed my melons back into my bra and felt a light touch on my back, when I reached back to fix the clasp.

"Please don't feel like you need to run off, Barb." I heard Bill whisper over the slurping sounds of his wife orally administering to her male guests.

Before he had a chance to get away, I swerved around and grabbed hold of his exposed cock. He froze. "Why professor, does that mean you're finally ready to fuck me?" I asked squeezing his fading erection.

"I... I can't," he replied, nervously trying to back away. I tightened my grip. Dropping to my knees, I deliberately pulled his limp dick into my mouth. I gripped the base of his shy tool with one hand and stroked his balls with the other, before reinserting his cock for some hard sucking.

Letting his growing slinky plop from my mouth, I directed my eyes directly to his. "Is it you can't, or you won't?" I remarked and slung his meat back into my mouth. His gentle, however tentative pats on my head told me I was making progress. That and the hardon forming in my mouth were convincing signs I had broken through his fetish barrier.

When I tasted the telltale release of precum, I stopped sucking. Keeping a tight grip on his stiff 6-incher, I stood up. The sight of unbelievable excitement in his face was a pleasure to behold. Tugging on his renewed manhood, I licked his lips.

"So Professor, what will it be? Tits, pussy, blowjob, or how about fucking my tight ass?" I smiled. His smiling non-committal reaction hardly dissuaded me. "Okay, up the ass it is," I decided, and swung back around to bend over. Spreading my legs, I quickly lubricated my asshole from my drenched pussy, and felt his cock slide down my crack. "That's it Professor, put it in," I commanded, while pulling my panties aside.

Feeling the pressure from his slender cock entering my tight hole made my ass cheeks flutter. His weathered hands and prying fingers spreading my cheeks was unexpected, but delightfully reassuring.

"My God, what a splendid ass you have," he blurted out, while he inched more and more of his boner past my sphincter and into my forbidden canal.

"So glad you approve; now how about a nice fucking?" I suggested, squeezing my ass tight.

The sight of the professed voyeur humping my ass would have been sordid enough, if it hadn't been for the seamy threesome on the couch. My husband was the bottom slice of a Sandy sandwich, with his cock (no doubt) buried in her asshole. Mark's larger frame all but obscured petite Sandy in between the two men. Watching Mark's fine ass rhythmically tightening with each deep thrust made me suddenly jealous. If it hadn't been for that scheming skinny little bitch, that would have been me getting a double dose of those love rockets.

As so often happens, at least with yours truly, my jealousy started hatching an equally appropriate scheme to get back at the flat-chested hostess. Leaning forward to accept more of the professor's cock, a realization came over me. I was most likely in an enviable position that Sandy (or any other female, for that matter) hadn't been treated to in quite some time--perhaps years.

"OH GOD BILL; your cock feels SO good fucking my ass!" I stated, loud enough for the whole room. "Is it good for you, Baby?" I begged, while seductively reaching back to pry my cheeks further apart.

"God YES, it feels INCREDIBLE!" He returned, stepping up his pace. Glancing up after that remark, I saw Mark had turned to catch a glimpse of us. The sight of us gathered enough of his attention to halt production of the Sandy sandwich.

"That's it Baby. Mmmm, ream me out with that hard COCK!" I implored, as my left hand reached between my thighs to pleasure my dripping pussy. Catching another furtive glance at the quiet threesome on the couch, I was treated to the lovely sight of our now motionless and captive audience.

Mark's body, turned even more towards us, revealed his meaty rigid cock barely penetrating Sandy's love hole. It wouldn't require much to totally win him over. With the professor's less than formidable morsel powering into my asshole, I leaned up and back, just enough to grasp my swinging mounds with my right hand. Almost simultaneously, Mark took hold of his proud monster and retreated from any further attempts at satisfying Sandy. He plopped himself down on the edge of the couch, and was content to enjoy the show and masturbate his luscious cock. Pinching a hard nipple, I gave him a quick wink and let my tongue slowly trace the outline of my painted lips.

Now it was time to focus my attention on the conniving bitch still trying to fuck my husband. I say trying, because it appeared that hubby's waning erection had plopped from Sandy's butt, when Mark rather abruptly pulled out of her pussy. When she crawled off Donny, to make a pseudo attempt at sucking his cock back to a size capable for fucking, I knew I had only won that battle. Now it was time to win the war.




Back to School Special



I've seduced and screwed enough horny husbands in my time to realize vengeance is best attained on the most personal of levels. Armed with this knowledge, there would be no more "Professor this" or "Baby that." Sandy's head bobbing up and down in my hubby's crotch, while her husband's dick filled and refilled my rectum, told me time was running out.

Ignoring Sandy, I balanced my attention between Donny and Mark, as I reached back to fondle her husband's balls. "Oh GAWD Bill, I love your balls hitting my pussy," I declared and tightened my sphincter.

"B-Barb you're so fucking tight! I feel like I could explode!" The professor's rod expanded in me.

"Oh BILL, will you come in me? Will you fill my ass with your hot cum? Oh BILL!"

That seemed to get the bitch's attention, as Sandy stopped sucking and quickly got to her feet. Standing next to her man about to share his first ejaculation in (maybe) years with another woman, she was in a quandary of how to proceed. Bill's throbbing hardon slowed to a pronounced ramming speed. I sensed his impending explosion with every forceful thrust.

"OH GOD BILLY! Shoot it in me NOW! FUCK ME!" I screamed, feeling a warm surge of cum starting to line my dark channel.

"NO! NO! It's MINE! You fucking whore! IT'S MINE!" She yelled and with one mighty shove she separated us. Falling forward, nearly into Mark's open lap, I flipped over to watch Sandy quickly take her husband's spewing rod into her mouth. Observing Sandy feasting on the professor's cock like it was her last meal, I couldn't help but smile. Knowing she was consuming an equal amount of my ass residue was most gratifying.

Donny and Mark were quick to help me to my feet, as we watched two former lovers re-unite. "Oh GOD Baby; that's it! Don't stop Baby, it's all for you," the professor combed his fingers through Sandy's dark locks, as she continued to savor every bit of her true love's cum.

"I do believe little Sandy has finally met her match," whispered Mark, reaching down to scoop up one of my tits.

"Yep, my girl is definitely capable of incredible things," said Donny, reaching for my pussy, while starting to nibble on my other boob.

"So how 'bout it? Are you ready to deal with a couple more incredible things?" Mark asked, turning my face to his to deliver a brief open-mouthed kiss.

Breaking away from their dual seduction, I reached down for my clothes. "And you two traitors really think you deserve any part of my sweet ass, after all of that--get real!" I laughed, hooking up my bra. 

"Awe come on Baby; you know we were just playing with her," Donny lamely submitted, tying to unhook me again.

"Yeah right; that looked like some pretty serious playing, if you ask me!" I glared and stepped into my panties. "Maybe you two can just take it out on the newlywed, how's that? Looks like our hostess will be a bit "busy" for a while," I smirked, watching Sandy leading her husband to the couch.

"Elizabeth would never go for anything like that," Mark stated, rather emphatically, as I punched my feet into my jean shorts.

"Silly boys; you should realize by now that any woman, with a totally fuckable body like Liz's, is capable of all sorts of surprises. You know, on second thought, maybe you two guys just need to go off and play with yourselves--take a shower or something. I'll go see about Liz."

Tucking their tails between their legs, they watched as I pulled my top on and left the room. Considering the fact that Mark's lady no longer showed up on any of the professor's monitors, I assumed she must be in some area without a surveillance camera. "Now where would I be, if I was married to a consummate voyeur?" I asked. Someplace where I could have my privacy, I surmised. Hell, I'd have my own bedroom. That's it! 

****************

Double The Pleasure; Double The Fun

Recalling a rather femininely decorated room off the upstairs hallway, I quietly knocked on the door. When I heard a muffled "Y-yes," I knew my deductions had paid off. Opening the door, I was greeted to the sight of long blonde locks and a pair of wary eyes peering over the opulent covers of a large bedspread.

"Elizabeth, is that you hiding in there?" I asked closing and locking the door behind me.

Getting no response, I glanced at her discarded clothes on a chair, and made my way closer to the bed. Her hands trembled as they grasped the bedspread tight up under her nose. Recollecting how I first felt under the influence of the same drug, I sat down on the bed, and brushed away a few wet strands of hair from her forehead. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head no, but remained silent. "Are you tired? Is that why you laid down?" Again with slow head shakes. "Listen Honey, you're gonna have to tell me if something is wrong, if you want me to help," I said, pulling the plush blanket down below her chin.

"It was S-Sandy," Elizabeth slowly admitted. "She tried to...to..."

"She tried coming on to you?" I nodded. She nodded, relieved that it was me who said it, and not her.

"And what did you do?"

"I thought she was playing, ya know, so I tried to laugh it off."

"Go on," I said, smoothing her brow, as she settled down.

"When she took off my top and kissed my... my boobs I got really nervous."

"I understand, probably made your skin crawl," I added.

"YEAH, just like that, but kinda tingly too. I didn't know what to say to make her stop. I mean she was so forceful."

"So what did you do?" I asked, pulling my hand away.

"Oh please don't stop Barb; you have a comforting touch; not at all like Sandy."

I brought my hand back to smooth her strawberry blonde hair and urged her to continue.

"I just told her... I told her she wasn't my type. I think I pissed her off."

"That sounds like a decent non-offending way to put it. What makes you think she was pissed?"

"Well, she told me I had to stay in here and think about it for a while, and then she left."

"Yeah, she probably wanted the drug to have more time to take effect," I shook my head.

"DRUG, What drug?" Paranoid Elizabeth yelled.

"The same fucking drug she used on me, I'm afraid. It's called Ecstasy."

"Oh my God! Thank explains everything; I thought I was losing my mind!"

"Believe me, I know exactly how you feel! She slipped a pill or something into my drink a week or so ago. I got dizzy at first, then really horny. It's like I needed to touch and be touched all over. Jesus Christ, the things I let her do to me--yuk; and her perverted husband most likely video taped it all. Sorry Elizabeth, but I think your so-called friend and her husband are a pair of sick fucking voyeurs."

All through my little tirade, Mark's lovely wife patted and soothed my neck and arms. I knew her actions were due to the drug, but I didn't let it bother me. "Well at least you had someone to touch and stuff. I've been here all by myself with basically nothing for I don't know how long! And, please call me Liz," she said, squirming her body closer to me, as she ran her hand up over my boobs to massage my cheek.

"What do you mean "basically" Liz," I asked turning my face slightly to kiss the palm of her hand.

"Oh God, I'm so embarrassed; promise you won't tell Mark."

"It's okay, I promise," I answered, and watched as she lowered the thick blanket and sheet. She was completely naked with a familiar rubber cock lying on one side of her. Another plastic dildo, obviously mechanical, was imbedded deep in her pussy. Clearing my throat, I couldn't help but drink in her beautifully tanned body. "Liz Sweetheart, you have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. You're gorgeous!" I exclaimed, lightly running the palm of my hand over her broad chest and super hard nipples.

"Holy shit Barb that feels so good! Luckily I found those in that drawer, or I would have tried about anything. I think I've made myself come about 6 or 7 times, but I think I'm running low on batteries," she said, tugging at my top with both hands. Turning my torso to lean over her upper body, I let her pull off my top. "Just how long does this Ecstasy shit last?" She asked, while I reached between her legs for the dildo.

"I suppose it could be different for different people," I whispered, before teasing her lower lip with my tongue. That and the dildo sent a visible charge through her. Reaching around me, her eyes re-opened while she undid my bra. As she pulled it from between us, and my 34 double-d's met and meshed with her larger 38-e's, both of us let out a long sigh. "I guess until it wears off, we'll just have to make the best of it," I simmered and leaned in to give her a full-mouth kiss. For Liz that was a no-no she wasn't ready to accept. Her tight lips remained sealed, until she shook her face away from mine. "I'm sorry Liz; I just thought..."

"No, it's not you Barb. It's totally my hang-up. Please don't be upset!" She pleaded, as she softly stroked the sides of my tits.

"Don't be silly, I know it's all about cock, right?" I smiled and reached down to retrieve the long rubber dong. "Goodness gracious, now doesn't this look familiar," I said and leaned up to shove it between her huge boulders. "You know Liz, I probably should apologize..." I started, as I ran the rubber cock between her massive mounds.

"Oh you mean about sucking off Mark? I know all about that. That wasn't your fault. Hell, I would have probably done the same thing, if it was your husband's cock," she smiled.

"Don't laugh, you might still be confronted with that opportunity," I returned her smile, and lowered the phallus down her torso. She spread her legs wide and prodded me to use the rubber cock on her lightly trimmed pussy.

"GOD, I can't remember EVER being this horny! Oh SHIT!" She yelled.

"What's wrong Liz?"

"Shit, the batteries just died! Oh Barb, why couldn't you be a man? I need to be fucked; here give me that thing," Liz barked, as she yanked out the smaller useless device.

After we'd played a quick game of keep-away with the rubber cock, I got off the bed to strip out of my jean shorts and panties. With both of us bare-assed and horny, I climbed back into the bed and stood to spread my legs over her. Letting my actions speak louder than any words, I leaned down to tease her mouth with the cock. Staring up into my eyes, her mouth opened. Her tongue swirled in quick tiny circles around the head, while her hands gently caressed my calves and thighs. Pulling the lubricated dong from her mouth, I edged it up between the folds of my pussy, until the unit was halfway inside me. As quickly as I penetrated myself with it, I pulled it out, to offer her a taste of our combined juices. Surprisingly, she eagerly sucked and licked the glistening probe.

That was all the indication I needed to continue the seduction. Turning on one heel, I did a 180 to straddle over her, but this time I squatted down. Retrieving the wet cock from her mouth once again, I brought my knees to rest on either side of her head and felt her heavy breathing like a warm invisible blanket on my pussy. Watching her lower body writhing and undulating under me, I knew I must be the first female to be privy to such a wanton dance. Feeling the contours of her voluptuous form, she tingled all over with each touch. Digging her heels into the bed, her flat pelvis raised and locked in fervent anticipation. The time for teasing was over; I would not disappoint her.

I leaned forward and laced the inside of her labia with my tongue, and immediately felt her returning the favor to my slit. Both of us let out a shared moan. I ran the slick rubber cock from the tip of my tongue down and directly into her slit. When I sensed her mouth open wide in wonder, I shoved the cock and my tongue deeper into her. In one long plunge, I rammed the 8-inch pleasure plunger to its hilt. Her timely reaction was to completely bury her opened mouth in my snatch. It was my turn to gasp in delight, as her tongue and lips frantically probed and searched for my clit. She was by no means a pro at eating pussy, but what she lacked in experience she more than compensated for in enthusiasm. Before long we were riding and rolling each other to a series of high-velocity orgasms. 

Somewhere during one particular roll, she ended up on top of me. With both of us huffing, like we'd just hit the 26-mile marker of a marathon, we took turns giggling. I think we were both on the verge of hyperventilating, when we heard a slight tapping on the door.

"Oh my GOD; who's that?" Liz shrieked and quickly rolled off of me, like we were a pair of indiscreet lovers caught in the headlights.

"Geez Liz, don't freak out. I'm sure it's probably just the guys."

"Oh no! Err, I mean OH YES!" She reconsidered, as she squirmed back into a sampling of her clothes. 

I was content to lay back and slowly raise a bed sheet to cover my naked self, as she squeezed back into her top (without bra) and lace panties (without skirt). "Jesus Girl, just a few minutes ago you would have killed for a nice fat cock. Now look at you," I teased.

"God Barb, I know. I still need Mark's thing. I'm just..." she struggled.

"Your nerves are just peaking, Babe. Just settle down, take a deep breath, and let them in," I advised, as another door tap interrupted.

"THEM? Oh my God, you're right! You're husband is probably with him. Shouldn't you..." she fretted.

"Will you just stop, Liz and answer the door already? Donny could hardly give a shit how we look, at this point."

The buxom bride finally took a few deep breathes, did a quick primp in the vanity, and headed over to unlock the door. Both fully-clothed hubbies-in-waiting sauntered in, relocking the door behind them. Their still-wet hair told me they actually took my advice about cleaning up. They both appeared fresh and ready to frolic. 

Like a deployed soldier's bride who'd gone without for two years, Liz simply dripped with sexual anxiety. She was all over Mark in a heartbeat. Pulling his clothes off, while trying to accomplish a sort of twisted striptease. All the while, her words rattled on and on about how Sandy had drugged her, and how hot and horny she was.

"Good Lord Barb, were you crazy-in-heat like that on that shit?" Donny smiled, standing at my bedside.

I shot him a quick wink and a smile, before kicking the pastel-colored bed sheet off of me. "Hell, I can't remember. I'm sure I wasn't far from it," I said, leaning up to unbuckle my husband's jeans.

"And this... what's this all about?" He asked, glancing at Liz's seduction of her husband.

"You have to ask? Well, fuck you then!" I yapped back, pouted and let go of his belt.

Pulling his shirt off, his jeans hit the floor. Stripping out of his shorts, he gazed back down at me and stroked his semi-erect cock. "I sorry... just playin' with ya Baby," he baby-talked me, as he inched closer to the bed.

I grabbed hold of his honker, to pull myself up. Reckoning we both might enjoy watching the Mark and Liz show, I openly jacked Donny's cock. By now Liz had the both of them completely stripped. With Mark flat on the floor, she greedily administered a rather sloppy mouth-to-cock resuscitation. Judging from the volume of Mark's grunts and moans, plus his opened-mouth expression of utter awe, I guessed this wasn't one of sweet Liz's typical blowjobs. Fast and furiously she worked on his well lathered, ten-inch beast, while I continued to stroke Donny's boner.

She kept a tight grip on Mark's dripping weapon, when she paused to catch her breath. Leaning up to urge him on, we distinctly heard her say, "So, do I suck as good as that bitch, hmm?" He vigorously nodded. She scrambled to her feet and planting a foot on either side of him, she squatted down over his lengthy torso. Still holding his cock, she slowly but deliberately impaled her ready pussy with it.

I looked up and gave Donny another sneaky wink, "Wanna have some fun?" He returned a smile, of course. Climbing out of bed, I motioned for Donny to join me, as we approached our horny roommates. Liz seemed oblivious to us, as we stood on either side of her. I grabbed a good chunk of her strawberry locks, catching her in mid-stride. Yanking her head back, I definitely got her attention. "And just WHO are you calling a bitch?" I blurted into her face.

"I, I... didn't mean anything by..." She tried to apologize, but only briefly halted fucking her husband, before resuming.

Keeping her head pulled back, I feigned being pissed with her comment. "After we made out like that, you call me names?"

"Hey you two, wh-what's going on?" Mark was able to eke out between body blows to his pelvis. 

"I think you'd better let Mr. Gloryholer here know what you've been up to Liz," I urged and released my grip. Her eyes locked on mine, as I backed off. Standing next to her, my right hand soothed her hair and turned her face to my chest. Hoisting up one of my melons, I prodded her for a kiss. "See there Mark, your wife likes the taste of tit. What do ya think of that?" I stated, as Liz licked and sucked first one of my jugs, and then the other.

After the initial shock, Mark's reaction was more-or-less expected. His hands reached up to fondle and caress his wife's massive jugs, before finding his way to my boobs as well. "I think maybe I've died and gone to fucking heaven," Mark admitted.

Donny had remained uncharacteristically silent up until then. However, the sight of our two sets of bra-busting globes being manhandled was too much for him to pass up. Releasing his hold on his cock, his hands joined in our communal foreplay. Before long we were all smiles and the entire exercise could have easily turned into horseplay, if it hadn't been for Liz. She was obviously on fire and needed to be seriously fucked. That fact became increasingly evident; when sometime during our boob barrage she turned from my side to service my hubby.

My husband has a casual way of making even the most extreme things seem commonplace. When Liz passionately took Donny's cock in her mouth, I honestly didn't give it a second thought. Mark however, was certainly not expecting it. I could see by his stern expression, her actions certainly did not compute with his perceptions of her. I decided perhaps a diversion was in order, and moved around to kneel facing her, with his head resting between my thighs. 

"Still think you've died and gone to heaven?" I asked, soothing his face from above, while his buxom wife continued bouncing up and down on his rigid tool.

"Perhaps heaven was more a subjective depiction," he warily half-smiled.

"God, you teacher-types are always so clinical. Here, why don't you eat my pussy," I posed rhetorically, as I stretched forward to give his face total access to my blonde bush.

Mark was only too eager to comply with my wishes. Lined up doggy style over him, I felt his hands gripping my tits, as his mouth clamped on to my snatch. My advantageous position offered me an up-close-and-personal view of his wife's cock-filled pussy. Although she seemed to be on autopilot, rhythmically sucking and fucking both guys, I figured a little extra stimulation was worth a try. Gripping Mark's shaft between strokes, I edged my tongue just inside her slit. If she had been on fire before, now she was a five-alarm blaze.

"Oh FUCK -- FUCK -- FUCK!" I heard her yells from above, while her free hand grasped my hair. "OH GOD; FUCK ME... MORE! Oh GOD, I need MORE!" She pleaded, as her pelvis slammed down harder and faster like some lurid drill press on Mark's cock and my face.

Fearing she might miss and totally squash my face, I jerked up and away from her grasp. Mark's tongue on my clit was so close to taking me to another orgasm, but I sensed something bigger brewing. Plain and simple, Liz was comparable to a volcano about to blow, if the conditions were just right. Edging myself from Mark's talented tongue, I moved myself down his long torso. I reached down to finger her clit, as I had done with my tongue. Smashing my body tight against her hot perspiring flesh, our tits soon melted into two perfect sets of well-greased boulders fighting each other.