Duncan Fox
Deep throat wife
CHAPTER ONE
Her wet hair wrapped in a towel, her loose, light robe slithering over her naked skin, Karen Calder flopped down on the sofa and put her feet up on the coffee table. Idly, she watched the glittering play on the massive color television set the one nice thing in an otherwise drab living room. A gentle breeze came in through the open window, and stirred the hazy curtains. The beads of water dotting the side of Karen's neck began to dry. It was another perfect, lazy, boring California day.
As the deodorant commercial was replaced by a garish, slowly spinning wheel and the credits for the next show, Karen began kneading her wet, towel-covered hair with both hands. Raising her arms made her heavy boobs shift in her robe and she felt her tits harden from the delicate friction. As she began grumbling at her horniness, her naked thighs began squirming against each other, satin flesh against satin flesh.
Peter Sandier burst on stage, his dark eyes sparkling, careless curls of jet black hair trailing over his forehead, his white teeth flashing. Karen's pussy sweated hotly. Nervously, she licked her lips. She cursed herself as she wriggled erotically. It was stupid to get turned on over someone on the TV. But, in the close-up, the man's eyes looked straight at her! Karen squirmed uncomfortably as her arousal increased. Her chest ached, her tits were burning. It had been a long time since Mark, her husband, had kneaded and adored those heavy jugs, sucked them until they hurt, then plunged his hot cock into her steaming cunt.
Sandier introduced his assistant, Shanda, and Shanda in turn introduced the contestants and their celebrity partners. The male contestant was a complete non-entity. He was awed by his partner, a glamorous, out-of-work actress. The female contestant was a pretty young girl, probably not much over eighteen. She was all wriggles and giggles. She kept darting adoring glances at both her partner, an actor plugging his latest movie, and at Peter Sandier.
God, the girl wasn't wearing a bra under that tight, clinging sweater! Her tits were clearly visible sharp points. She looked like she was incredibly turned on by something. She giggled and chatted with Sandier.
Then Sandier's eyes were boring in to Karen again, and she forgot the contestant as the itch in her cunt increased. Pushing up the loose sleeves of her robe, Karen rubbed the goose bumps on her arms nervously. She had never been so turned on by this show as she was today! She knew that as the dollar winnings grew bigger and bigger, her cunt would drool more and more heavily, too.
Something about the amount of money being given away made her burn. That, combined with the dashing handsomeness of Sandier, would turn her into a shivering wreck by the end of the half-hour show.
As the commercial droned on, unheard, she found her fingers toying with the belt of her robe. She tried to stop herself. Her muscles knotted as they rebelled. It was crazy, she had never done anything like it before.
But it was a warm day, just right. No one could see into her living room. She was home, alone, with just the TV. Why shouldn't she be naked if she wanted to be? The knot came undone, she dragged the belt loose.
Just as she unwrapped the robe to let the gentle breeze brush her bare flesh, Peter Sandier came back on the screen. She felt her cunt flood. She arched her body, made her lush knockers rise and thrust up for the man's sparkling-eyed admiration. She squirmed one thigh against the other again, as she drew her arms out of her robe. She was naked, except for the towel turban on her hair.
Defensively, she crossed her arms. She felt the warm, lush weight of her titties, felt her boobs lift and press inward against each other. She was offering the handsome man her naked tits. Her fingers slipped up and touched her tits. Her rubbery nipples hardened still more. She stroked her fingers over her aching teats, felt the hard rock-like buds tugging and twisting.
She grabbed a pillow, and jammed it behind her butt and lower back so she could relax and still be semi-reclined. Her stomach muscles tensed with horniness. She began writhing in spite of herself. She let her palms rest on her sleek, warm, naked thighs. Her fingers crept upward and inward, toward the still-moist brown curls of her snatch.
She tickled the wiry patey shyly. Her ankles unlocked and her thighs eased apart, just the way they did when Mark touched her there. Her cunt-lips chilled as her sex juices dried. A curling string of brown hair, still wet, escaped from the turban and tickled the side of her neck.
The game continued, the stakes rising slowly. Every time the girl won, she bounced ecstatically in her seat, and her little titties jiggled excitedly. From the way her nipples stabbed anxiously at her sweater, she had to be as aroused as Karen was. What was that celebrity doing to the girl? Behind that podium they shared, it could be almost anything! God, right there on national TV, the girl could be getting felt up.
Karen drilled a finger into her own steaming cunt at the thought. Pumping her hand in and out of her twat, she shuddered as she watched the screen. The two teams were competing for the chance to spin the jackpot wheel.
Karen pistoned her finger in her fountaining hole. Slippery, sticky juices smeared her hand, her cunt-lips, the insides of her thighs. Every appearance of Peter Sandier brought a hot, thick flood of goo from her twat. Every time the figures on the scoreboard got bigger, her pussy clenched around her finger. Bringing her thumb into play, Karen stabbed it down on the aroused button of her clit. Her hips heaved with a mind of their own as she mangled the nerve-packed mini-prick.
She was going to come. Shamefully, under the ministrations of her own smeared fingers, she was going to come. The soft summer breeze dried her sex sweat, played over her naked body. She writhed and squirmed on the couch in front of the TV set, and worked her twat over desperately. Her legs were thrown wide, displaying the scarlet gash of her cunt to the glittering gaze of the man, his pretty blonde assistant and the contestants and celebrities.
Karen thought of them all actually seeing her as she was, and her lust raged higher. The thought of displaying herself so blatantly to total stranger made her excitement boil. She had hard time keeping her eye focused on the screen as she roared closer and closer to a screaming coming.
The young girl scored again in the game, bounced out of her seat, and jumped up. Her little boobies jiggled and joggled, her tits strained against the tight sweater. Lights flashed, bells rang, and the girl hugged her partner, the pretty assistant, and the master of ceremonies.
Karen began to come in long, slow, hot waves. Her body knotted for a long moment, shivered with strain, then relaxed. Then it knotted again, and again, tighter and longer and harder each time. The show shifted to a commercial but she was oblivious of it. All she felt was the searing pleasure of her coming. She was locked rigid. Her hips jammed upward, mashing her naked snatch against her shivering hand. Come streamed over her fingers, down the crack of her ass. Her titties shivered, her nipples jutted toward the ceiling as her back strained and arched. Her gaping crotch was hidden only by her wildly working hand. She struggled to keep her coming going.
A second commercial. Her body arched saber orgasm began to die, rose again, then faded a little more. On the television, a paper towel shredded. Karen's cunt spasmed and softened around her dripping hand. Her ass sank back at the couch, her heels skidded across the coffee table, tumbling magazines and newspapers to the floor.
The commercial faded and Peter Sandier with his flashing smile and sparkling eyes, returned, and Karen shuddered. Her coming rekindled for a moment, then faded to an ache that was a mingling of satisfaction and shame. She went limp. Her hands slid away from her snatch, smeared her thighs with goo. For a minute she just lay there, legs stretched and spread on the coffee table, her flooded crotch aimed straight at the smiling MC's face.