“No, I… no!… oh Jesus, yes, yes, yes yes yes yes!“
He couldn’t help himself. The words tore from his throat, in a strangled kind of whisper that he scarcely recognized, and then his mouth was grinding against hers, his tongue was flailing deep, deep into her mouth. Lynn’s hand began to move faster on his turgid prick, and she sucked and nibbled at his tongue, swirling her own tongue around and around his, darting it into his mouth and then drawing it back to accept the onslaught of his probing member. As if with a will of its own, Barry’s left hand came up and found her breast, squeezed and kneaded the flesh momentarily, then dipped inside the orange halter to draw the garment down and away, exposing her nude breast with its fiery nipple and dark brown areola. He could feel the wetness from the seminal fluid which seeped from the gland on the hardening tip of his prick as she continued to massage him with a practiced thoroughness until he thought the head would surely erupt.
And then, suddenly, with his finger kneading the resilient flesh of her magnificent tits and his cock jerking almost out of control, the full impact of what he was doing struck Barry’s mind like a mailed fist.
My God! he thought wildly. No, this is wrong, all wrong, I’m a married man, a happily married man… this Li wrong, it’s sick, Jesus… what would Kim say?
What would she say if she could see what was happening right now, my hand on another woman’s breast and that woman’s hand stroking and rubbing my cock… I can’t go through with it, I just can’t.
The guilt was so strong within him that he wrenched violently away from Lynn, pulling his mouth from hers, turning his body so that her hand left his bulging lap. His face was flushed a brilliant crimson-partially from shame and partially from his intense arousal. Re averted his eyes, looking at the far wall, breathing deeply, raggedly.
“What’s the matter, lover?” Lynn asked casually beside him, and then, with full feminine perception: “You’re having an attack of conscience, aren’t you? You’re thinking about your wife.”
“Y-yes,” Barry managed to answer. “What what are we doing… what we were leading up to… Christ, Lynn, it was crazy, it was all wrong.”
“Was it?” she asked.
“Yes… of course…
“I don’t think so,” she said.
“Yes… yes.”
“You want to fuck me as much as I want you to fuck me,” she teased in that droning voice of hers. “You know it and I know it. So why pretend any different, Barry?”
“Jesus, Lynn!“
“It’s purely a physical matter,” she continued. “You want to get into my soft, wet pussy, and I want your big cock inside me. That’s all,” her lewd words floated across to his mind. I love my wife.”
“Sure you do. And I love my husband. But that doesn’t have anything to do with us, with here and now, with fucking.”
No, no, I don’t want to hear any more! Barry thought with gathering panic. It’s wrong, it’s wrong, but what she says is true in some ways, you don’t have to love a woman to want to fuck her… but no, damn it, no, I can’t do it!
He jumped up from the couch, standing with his back to Lynn, staring at the wall again. His heart hammered violently in his chest, and he was aware that his prick was still granite-hard in his pants, that it was still seeping hot droplets of lubrication. But he had to compose himself, find a way to get Lynn to leave, or better yet to leave himself, to get far, far away from her and to hell with the goddamned novel…
Lynn’s voice whispered huskily behind him, “Barry, lover.”
He turned, gathering his courage to say what had to be said, but when he saw her the words froze in his throat. His mouth hinged open, and his eyes seemed to bulge goiter-like.
She stood before him completely nude.
She had unhooked the halter and stepped out of the brief shorts; the articles of clothing made a puddle of brilliantine color on the bare floor at her feet.
She stood with her legs spread wide apart, her head and shoulders pulled back, her hands knuckled provocatively on her proud, bronzed hips. She was smiling at him with her mouth parted, her teeth slightly bared, the tip of her wet, pink tongue showing. The wet, petal like, hair-lined lips of her vagina were presented to his eyes like an Aztec virgin on a sacrificial altar, waiting for a huge, plunging weapon to stab into her. The brown triangular bush of her pubic triangle glistened lewdly in the pale afternoon light. Her high, perfectly rounded breasts, startling alabaster white against the deep tan of her other parts, jutted out like twin, inviting rub-crested mountain peaks, waiting to be climbed, asking to be conquered. Her legs, so long, so slender, so satiny smooth-looking at their inner thighs, were moist with the flowing juices of her passion flowered cuntal mouth.
“Well, lover?” she asked. “Do you like what you see?”
“Lynn…“ Her name choked past his swollen throat, but that was all. He couldn’t say anything else. He could only stare at her, at her loveliness, at her completely lewd, wanton pose-and his cock began its maddening pulsations again in his pants.
Slowly, slowly, Lynn lifted her hands, her eyes fastened on his, and began to slide her palms up and down, up and down, along her silky sides from the outer swells of her breasts to her flanks. Then she cupped her tits, kneading them lightly, pushing them out toward him as if presenting him with two forbidden but delicious gifts of flesh. Then her hands were stroking her belly, moving down ever so slowly until the tips of her pink-tinted nails were just touching the golden brown fleece of her pubic triangle. She held that pose for a long moment, thumbs pressing against her slender, sculptured sides, fingers splayed across her belly. Barry stood as if transfixed, unable to move, unable to speak, captured totally and completely by the strange fascinating allure of this woman before him, the absolute lustful sexuality of the scene he was witnessing. His penis seemed to be screaming with his ever-increasing arousal.
Slowly, Lynn’s hands began to move again, the fingertips dipping lower through her soft downy pubic hair, blazing a path toward the glistening pink slit between her legs. When she reached it, she placed the thumb and forefinger of her left hand on either side of the soft, glistening lips and spread them slowly, slowly, apart, revealing the trembling pink bud of her erect clitoris to Barry’s lust-ridden gaze. With her right forefinger, then, she traced down, down, until the tip came in contact with the miniature phallus. She began to stroke it, titillating it back and forth, round and round, sending more rivulets of her lubrication trailing down her inner thighs. And while she stroked her cut, rubbing her finger in maddening cadence along the gaping crevice of ‘her wet, pink cunt, she began to talk to him in her droning, mesmeric voice.
“I want to fuck you, lover. I want to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. I want to put my finger in your asshole while you’re fucking me, and I want you to do the same for me. And afterward, I want to suck your big, throbbing cock, suck it until I milk you dry and then I’ll lick your asshole, I’ll put my tongue in it until I make you hard again. I want you to kiss my pussy, I want your tongue where my finger is now, licking and biting and kissing my cunt, I want…“
On and on she intoned, and the words-the absolute perverted obscenity of what he was hearing-lashed Barry’s mind into a swirling frenzy. Oh Christ, he had to have her! He didn’t care about Kim, he didn’t care about anything now, the only thing that mattered were Lynn’s lewd, vile words in his ears, the sight of her manipulating her own genitals in surging billows of heat in his scrotum as his cum churned and rolled, begging for release. He had to have her, yes, yes…
He had to fuck her!
As if he was somehow spirit-free from his body, he watched himself objectively as his legs worked, moving his body forward, bringing him closer to her. He watched her finger cease its rhythmic motion on her clitoris as he approached, and her smile turn to one of triumph as she claimed her victory beyond any doubt. His hands went out to her, touched her shoulders-but then she was moving back away from him, saying softly, “Not here, lover. In the bedroom.”