"Wonderful! Wonderful, Smokey! You know!" She lowered her feet, touching the earth with her toes, her thighs widespread. "Come on, baby. Up between my legs!"
The donkey snorted again and reared on his short hind legs, taking a series of short, clumsy steps to position himself in the notch her legs made. She caught his forelegs to guide them clear of her belly, then reached under him and guided his prick to her cunt. His rump prodded and the bulky cockhead began to work against the tightness of her cunt hole. She swung her legs around him and pulled fiercely, jerking herself onto the great cock and gagging happily when it crowded her guts.
"Ahhh! Ohhh, Smokey baby! Fuck me good!" She grabbed his neck and hauled herself against him, his bristles stabbing her belly and gouging her fits. She pumped her ass, bouncing on his enormous shaft, and he banged at her until she was battering against the plank.
"God, yes, Smokey! Hit me! Hit me hard, baby!" Her cunt flamed with hunger and gulped the grotesque feast it held. Helen let go with her hands and flung her arms back, letting herself arch backward over the edge of the table. Her boobs jounced crazily and her fingers brushed the ground. She knew she'd see the moving lump on her belly of the buried cockhead, if she only wanted to look. But she was starting to come, and she didn't need to see. Her thighs clamped convulsively on Smokey's sides, his stiff hair digging at her tender flesh like handfuls of needles. Smokey backed suddenly, as if startled at something, and she felt herself dragged off the table. She hung head down beneath him, supported by the grip of her legs and pulling herself against his belly, his cock fully implanted in her twat. She continued to pump while she came, and Smokey's hindquarters continued to oscillate savagely.
His cock leaped abruptly and his hot jizz filled her. He threw his head up and brayed. His widely planted forelegs shook in Helen's grasp and she sobbed with overwrought awareness. When the pulsing sensations at the mouth of her cunt subsided and the donkey's cock started to go soft, she loosened the grip of her legs and let herself slide off him to the ground. She rolled weakly aside, clear of his hooves, and pushed herself erect.
"Thank you, you walking cock, you. Thank you!" She went to him and hugged his ugly head, rubbing her tits against his face, then went to the corner of the corral and used the watering hose to flush off the thick cum that trickled from her pussy. She took a cold douche and got dressed, leaving the corral with a bouncy step and a satisfied smile.
"All right!" she called to the clouds. "Okay! You saw that! Am I dirty enough? Am I doing all right or not?"
She returned to the house and made a perfunctory effort to straighten it. But she was too impatient for Art's arrival to care whether there was dust in the corners or not. At ten o'clock she made up her mind to shock him. "Like he'd want to be shocked," she said confidently. She found the bra and panties Danny had brought to her the night before. She stripped quickly and got into the revealing garments, then waited nervously.
She heard Art's car, peeked through the window to be sure it was he, and went to the center of the living room. When Art opened the door, he dropped his briefcase.
"Holy Jesus!" he exclaimed. "Is that you, Helen?"
"Of course! Honey, I've missed you something awful!"
"Son-ov-a-bitch!" He sprang across the room and crushed her in his arms.
"Honey!" she exclaimed over his shoulder. "Honey! You left the front door wide open!"
"Oh, shit! What's wrong with me!" He swung around, holding her in one arm, and went back to the door. Her toes dragged on the floor and she clung fiercely to him. He teased her, holding her before him in the open doorway and fingering her twat through the slit in her panties.
She was torn between hard-dying inhibitions and her new determination to ignore them. "Art!" she gasped, her glance darting up and down the street. "Art, honey! My God, somebody'll see us!" And then, pressing her head back against him and thrusting her knees apart, "To hell with it! Let them! Oh, rub, honey!"
Art crushed her clitoris with his fingers and she thrashed in his grip. She heard the solid "chunk" of the closing door.
Art carried her to the couch and dropped her on it. She lay as she fell, legs a-sprawl and arms extended, and watched him through half-closed eyes while he undressed. When he pushed his shorts off his hips, his cock leaped, dark with heat, the head halfway out of the foreskin. She rolled off the couch to her knees and flung her arms around Art's hips, kissing the heavy prick eagerly. She ran the tip of her tongue around the edge of his foreskin and lipped the tip of the cockhead.
Her husband buried his hands in her hair and tilted her head back, gazing into her face with a puzzled expression. "What's with you, baby?" he asked. "I don't know where you hid, Helen, but you're sure as hell somebody else!" A grin grew slowly.
Helen trembled. "I'm me," she murmured. "I'm me, with the pretending gone. I'm who you really married." She pressed her boobs against his thighs. "Want to know about me?"
"Sometime," he said softly. "Not right now. I want to get to know you."
He loosened his grip and she put her lips to the nose of his cock. She sucked at it for a time and then forced her mouth over the entire head, biting gently on the foreskin and pushing it back onto his shaft. She played her tongue over his slit and listened to his breath hiss. To her delighted surprise, the sense of guilt that had nagged her for the past twenty-four hours evaporated. In its place, she felt a glow of pleasure in the knowledge she was giving him pleasure. And that's not just cock hunger! she thought. I'm dying to get this beautiful cock into my pussy, but that's a different feeling.
The appearance of tension in Art's belly grew more pronounced. His flesh twitched and he twisted his hips slowly. At last he caught her under the armpits and raised her to her feet. "Come on, baby. Time we tried out these fancy-pants." He glanced at her nipples, out-thrust by the upward force of her bra's half-cups, and his eyes gleamed. "And that titty-vendor," he added with a grin.
He took her to the dining room, where he pulled one of the straight chairs away from the wall. Seating himself on the edge, he drew her towards him. She straddled his lap, her twat hovering above his cock, and he straightened the rigid tool with its head nuzzling her crotch. She pulled the slit of her panties open and squatted, breathing deeply as she felt the knob of his cockhead settle into her gash.
"Mmm! Mmm!" she exclaimed. "I'm so hot for you, honey! God, this feels good!"
Her cunt stretched to engulf Art's cockhead and she let herself slip down the erect shaft. She lifted her feet, hooking her insteps over her husband's thighs, and rocked on his cock. He balanced her, his hands at her waist, and bent forward to suck at her nipples.
He pulled his mouth away for a moment. "If it's all right, that is," he said.
"If what's all right?" She shook with pleasure and made no sense out of his remark.
"Sucking your tits."
She whispered, "Don't be mean now, honey. Just fuck!"
Amazement flashed in his eyes. "Did you say what I thought you did!"
"Please!" she wailed. "Don't spoil it!"
"Sorry, baby. All the way this time, huh? Nothing barred?"
"Oh God, honey! Do I have to draw a picture?"
"No. Just wiggle that pussy a little harder, okay?" He grabbed her nipple again and began to chew it.
She levered her hips, grinding her pussy on the base of his cock and feeling the head thrust back and forth in her belly. Her hands fluttered. She caught Art's face between them and fingered his temples, rocking her head back and gazing at the ceiling.
"Honey! Ohhh, honey!" she exclaimed. Shudders of pleasure racked her body. "Whew! Whew! Mmmm, yesss!"
Art let go of her tit and grunted. "Hey, baby! I'm about to get it off! You think you can come?"
"Try me!" She forced the words past clenched teeth. "Oh, quick, honey!"