An adult stories – Ascending Lauren Ch. 22 by SimpleEnigma,SimpleEnigma This narrative is part of a multi-part story that explores the sexual exploits of a Midwestern couple who wanted a change in locale, but are experiencing much, much more.
Warning: subject matter includes hotwife/cuckold/group sex topics. This story is tagged as such, so if you do not care for these types of tales, move on. You are your only enemy if you continue reading.
Those that do choose to continue, please know reading previous chapters will help you better understand the characters and their journey.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Anything depicted has no relation to past or current people and events. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18.
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Tuesday, February 13th. Nine days to go.
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Corey Miller looked out over his expansive front lawn from the warmth of his study and took a sip of hot coffee. From there he could see the widespread morning frost and the metal For Sale sign reflecting the morning sun.
Open House Sunday
Noon – 2:00
Although he was, of course, excited to finally begin a new life in Florida with Lauren, the longtime Iowan had to admit selling the house that held so many memories brought about myriad mixed emotions. Birthdays and Christmases. Shed tears and happy laughs. Now, the home that had hosted all those things, the things that make life worth living, was soon to belong to another family where they too could begin making their own.
Would that happy couple find themselves beset by the same phycological fetishes and almost supernatural fervor that seemed to consume the Miller’s life these days? Would the husband develop a burning desire to see his wife in the arms of other men? Would the wife acquiesce, only to find her own body longing for pleasures of the flesh, for the joy of sex that had been so mechanical and lackluster these past few years? Ironically, it was these types of thoughts that often drove him to the privacy of the toilet to masturbate. But now was not one of those times.
“The eggs will be done in a sec. More coffee?”
Returning to the kitchen, Corey took a seat at the wooden table as Lauren approached with a coffee pot in hand. Her expression was…apprehensive. Refilling his cup, she returned to the stove and slid three over-easies from a no-stick pan onto a plate.
More and more, things just seemed so surreal. Here was his wife of twenty-eight years, padding around in sweats, hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and freshly scrubbed face making breakfast for her doting husband. With the traffic report on the small portable TV and sunshine streaming in, it could have been like a thousand other mornings in their lives; a regular Norman Rockwell painting.
But it wasn’t.
Lauren hadn’t spent the previous evening at the school board or coaching softball. She wasn’t playing pickleball or fighting the lines at the new mega-supermarket. Instead, the beautiful raven-haired forty-eight-year-old had spent it teasing guys he counted amongst his best of friends, and eventually fucked one of them. For the third time.
A whore by any other name.
Really? Did the culpability lie with her? Or what she had become? Had he not driven her libido to the point of ignition, stoked it with pillow talk and drunken fantasies? Asked her to dress sexier and flirt with others? Indeed, he had. Had he surfaced her suppressed desire to sell herself? No. Had he led her into an alley for a gangbang? No, but there was that pool hall incident.
Had he asked her to date other men?
Most definitely, yes.
Despite that idyllic breakfast morning scene and best efforts to maintain a semblance of normalcy, the stoic façade had begun to crack as more and more people became aware of their evolving marriage. That her buddies in Miami knew was a given. Quite frankly, all they’d ever known was Lauren the hotwife. But now Zane’s coworkers back here in Des Moines knew and with her little escapade last night, longtime friends knew as well. Who they would tell was anyone’s guess.
While the bacon sizzled on the griddle, Corey pretended to be lost in his phone, engrossed in the day’s headlines. He wanted nothing more than to make a quick exit and go to work unscathed. Discussing last night was something he would prefer to avoid, and so far, so good. It was his love-hate relationship with the fetish that had driven him to spy on her once again and now there were sure to be consequences. After a somewhat disturbing and muddled threesome at Zane Picardo’s home, all three had fallen asleep with Lauren in the middle. As the sun rose that morning, the married couple had woken and left quietly, each driving their own vehicle back home. That had been two hours ago and since then, neither had spoken a word of the encounter. Maybe it was a reluctance to discuss, or maybe they were just tired. Whatever the reason, the silence was about to end.
Click.
Lauren set down Corey’s breakfast plate and switched off the TV. When someone does that, it’s never a good sign.
“We need to talk,” she eyed him pensively.
Corey stopped short of stuffing a piece of bacon into his mouth. Shit.
“You cannot keep stalking me.”
Biting off a piece of the crispy pork, he chewed slowly and returned the rest to the dish. “You’re my wife. I like to know you are okay.”
“That doesn’t give you a right to spy on me. You knew where I was going, and it wasn’t exactly River Bend. And this isn’t the first time. There was my evening with Steve. Then the fraternity house, now Zane’s.”
Corey took a second bite, thought about that, then swallowed. “Well, for one, if I remember correctly, the lease has my name on it. So, when I caught you with Steve, it wasn’t like I was trespassing. Second, you wanted me to find you in the fraternity. Now, last night? Yeah, maybe I pushed it. But I just had to see what was so damn important that you’d give up one of our last two nights together. But that should have been obvious, right? No mystery there. Big dick, small dick.”
Lauren folded her arms and gazed out the window. He wasn’t wrong. She’d smelled the scent of cock and followed it across town, leaving him in the dust. In hindsight, it wasn’t something to be proud of and she could see his point. Still, if they were to continue their games in Miami, there had to be some ground rules. While she didn’t like being apart from her husband all the time, not having to account for her whereabouts every day after thirty years provided a certain freedom that was going to be hard to forfeit again. Lauren was just now getting used to going out whenever she pleased, with whomever she pleased. And if they were going to continue the lifestyle – the course Corey himself had put them on – he was going to have to give her some space. Perhaps it was best to take a different approach.
“So, you like stalking me, huh?”
Corey looked up at her as he felt a foot slowly creeping up his calf. Her tone had softened and both eyes were transfixed on his.
“I told you I wasn’t stalk-eeen…oh.”
Another foot had joined in and found the sixty-one-year-old’s crotch.
“If this is going to work, you’ll need to ease up on the surveillance, okay? I know you like to watch, and I promise to feed your needs, but not all guys like an audience. And there are plenty I want to fuck.”
A few toes danced on the growing tent in Corey’s work khakis. “There are?” he wheezed, lost in the moment.
“Don’t play stupid, Mister, you’ve seen what’s in Miami.”
“I know, but…”
Quite unexpectedly, Lauren slid off her chair and disappeared under the table. The next thing he knew, frisky hands had replaced the feet.
“Do we have an agreement?”
“Wha…what’s that?”
“No more spying. I’ll let you know when it’s okay to lean in.”
ZIPPPPPPP
“But what if…?”
A pair of lips engulfed his semi-erect six inches, followed by a tongue that traveled the length of its underbelly.
“No buts. Do we have a deal?” she asked again with the seriousness of a tough negotiator. Suddenly the whole of his penis was in her mouth.
Corey slumped in his chair; the breakfast food forgotten. “Yessssssss.”
“Eye fawwwht so…” Lauren muttered as she crossed the i and dotted the t. Within two minutes the beleaguered husband shuddered, eyes rolling back in his head as he ejaculated down her throat. No way was she mopping the floor yet again.
The last drop swallowed, the sultry wife crawled out from under the table and dusted off her hands.
“Are you going out again tonight?” Corey zipped up, looking glum, as if he already knew the answer. “With him?”
“No,” she shook her head, handing over a fully ladened lunch pail. “Don’t you remember, silly? Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day. My flight’s in the morning, so this evening, we celebrate!”
Shit, that’s right. Of all holidays for her to be leaving on.
“So, what do you want to do?”
“I was thinking of making that lasagna you like and staying in. Just you and me. How’s that sound?”
Corey’s heart nearly burst when he heard that. It was what he was hoping for.
“Perfect,” he gushed with a wide smile that stayed on his face all the way to work.
“Then I’ll see you later, alligator,” Lauren replied cheerfully as she began doing dishes, seeming every bit like the scout leader and bingo caller she’d been for years. In fact, the June Cleaver look was only dashed once as she paused to wipe a bit of sticky white cum off her chin with a bent elbow.
That stuff can get everywhere!
+++++
“Charlie, can you grab me another stack of bands, please?” the overworked Randy Sandy’s door girl at the entrance pleaded into her headset. Looping the last iridescent piece of paper around a young customer’s wrist, ensuring the sticky ends held, she nodded for him to go through. The pretty Latino of Cuban descent laughed when the young man joined his waiting buddies with a hoop and a holler. It was nice to see people having a good time. Plus it gave her a chance to be off her feet.
“On it,” came the youthful crackling response as the greeter smiled weakly at the ten or so other patrons waiting impatiently to get inside. All were eager to spend their money on nudity and overpriced watered-down drinks.
Within minutes, Charlie Weber had once again saved the day, showing up with two large bundles of bands.
“Busy for a Tuesday,” the young man remarked as the girl sighed with relief. Typically, they didn’t go through so many.
“Fleet’s in, I suppose,” she posited, wrapping another wrist as the twenty-dollar cover was paid.
“Charlie,” the floor manager squawked in the networked Bluetooth system, “can you help Rita with the reader on station four? It’s not taking swipes.”
The twenty-one-year-old acknowledged the request and scampered off to the middle of the showroom, where the main bar and runway were. Such was the life of a strip club runner, scurrying here and there, helping where needed. Any given night would find him taking kitchen deliveries and inventory, gathering laundry from the talent, troubleshooting electronics, rearranging tables for bachelor parties, and setting up VIP rooms. The work was tough, but he was learning a lot about the business. And it kept him close to his forever crush, Chloe Ceallaigh, aka Autumn Breeze. Sometimes too close.
As Charlie replaced the faulty card reader and waited for the terminal to reboot, he was able to take a breath and looked around the room. Several of the talent were working the crowd for tips in various stages of dress with the real goal of selling private dances. It wasn’t long before his eyes landed on a cute redhead cheerfully chatting up a group of middle-aged men. Chloe was quite busty, and wearing only a G-string did nothing to help the guys keep their focus on her eyes. Not that the rest of her wasn’t beautiful, but her cantaloupe-sized breasts, still only twenty years old, sat high on her chest. Definitely a pair to behold. Those working in a gentleman’s club, however, tended to get desensitized to nudity over time. In fact, Charlie no longer got chubs at the dancing or knowing what went on behind closed doors, the latter being something employees were strictly forbidden to watch or participate in. For many, it truly was just another day at the office. Except when it came to Chloe. While most men lusted after her body, it was the stripper’s mind that he found most attractive. A shrewd businesswoman even at a tender age, she planned to use her God-given talents to retire by age thirty. By then, she figured, there would be diminishing returns on her assets. So why not cash in now?
Punching a passcode into the touch screen and nodding to the bartender that she was back in business, he turned to the table Chloe had been at just seconds ago, only to see her leading one of the bigger customers by hand to a VIP room in a narrow corridor off to the side. Just as she ducked behind a curtain guarded by a huge man with Security emblazoned on a yellow t-shirt, the roommates’ eyes met. With a barely perceptible smile, Autumn Breeze disappeared, ready to make another guy’s day.
His roommate.
Would they ever be more? Charlie mused. Could they ever be more? To be honest, it was difficult seeing her strip for men who didn’t give two shits if she had a brain or not, watching them ogle her nubile assets night after night. And the lucky ones could afford a lap dance and perhaps something extra. The something he longed to do. He had decided a long time ago that things would be different if the pendulum ever did swing his way. He’d make it about her, not him, while making love to that wonderous mind as well as her luscious body.
“Charlie, can you help Jada? She’s having a wardrobe malfunction and all the girls are busy.”
“Be right there,” the young man left the bar and headed towards the dressing room.
The dancers were always having issues with their outfits, most of them were so skimpy the material often broke and had to be mended on the fly. They didn’t mind the young man fluttering around, even if it meant being in their space. He was very helpful, and after all, nude was nude, whether it be on stage or back. Plus, they all knew he only had eyes for one girl in the troupe.
Jada was fussing up a storm when Charlie got there but was able to calm her down, using a handy safety pin and some thread. All was good just as her name was announced to the waiting crowd, and she left the boy with a flirty ‘thank you’ and the imprint of lipstick lips on his cheek.
Never a dull moment, the kid grinned, exiting backstage and stepping onto the podium which housed the DJ booth. He like the vantage point because from there he could survey the entire room, scanning for any employee in need of help, which could range from cleaning up a spill to alerting security of a rowdy customer. Charlie had just exchanged small talk with deejay Em Cee Topper when the manager ordered the runner to VIP room six to change a flickering light.
“Probably a red twenty-watter. Should be two boxes in supply. Also, check the ceiling fan is working too, please. It’s about shot.”
Grabbing a bulb and a small step ladder from the closet, Charlie made his way across the floor to the VIP hallway, nodding pleasantly to the guard as he parted the curtain. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dim blue light while walking past the individual rooms. This is where the girls made the big bucks, and it was of the utmost importance that they not be disturbed. Typically, the maintenance crew would care for this during off hours, but bulbs always went out during inopportune times. There were eight rooms, with six being near the back of the corridor. Although he didn’t know which one – the girls usually just took what was open at the time – that didn’t make it any easier knowing his Chloe was in one. Coming to a door with a simple black-on-white number 6 plaque attached to the frame, the boy sighed and went in. On the wall were four lights that softly bathed a futon and side table in a deep red glow. After replacing the flickering one, he flipped the switch on the fan several times before it started to rotate. Scraping noises rattled the ceiling as worn bearings showed signs of disintegration. Yep, time for a new one.
Finished, Charlie reentered the corridor and stood quietly. His boss would have surely yelled at him for not immediately leaving. But Chloe was just a few feet away, on the other side of one of those doors, doing what she gets paid to do. Pleasuring men for profit. His crotch twitched at the thought.
Her body hovering over a stranger’s, gyrating to songs that they paid handsomely for.
Hands permitted to lightly touch fleshy hips as her bare nethers moistened, stopping just above tented pants.
Christ, why did this excite him? He should be jealous and green with envy.
And he WAS. But it wasn’t these alone; more like a mixture of weird ass feelings. Just like while watching her with the porn star, the whole idea was…well…fascinating. Okay, it was hot, so what? But why? Why did he get aroused at these things?
Men ogling her while dancing.
Staring at her tits and ass, wondering what it would be like to be with her.
It didn’t make sense, but here he was, in the middle of a dark hall getting a hard-on, imagining what was going on behind…
Almost as if on cue, a door to one of the rooms opened, allowing red light from within to mix with the muted blue of the corridor. Out came Chloe with the same rotund client in tow, a bottle of water in her hands. She was swishing the cool liquid around in her mouth. The friends’ eyes met briefly, acknowledging the other’s presence. Charlie picked up the ladder and acted nonchalantly like he’d just been passing by rather than daydreaming. Keeping things professional, the redhead politely escorted the man back to his buddies and asked if anyone else wanted to have fun. When her roommate walked near the table, she pulled him aside and whispered.
“The promos from the film are done and ready to be reviewed.”
“Um…okay?”
“They can’t use them without me first approving. Jason makes sure he has that written into all contracts.”
Charlie looked around the showroom and feigned disinterest. The prospect of reliving that day on the set was appealing but didn’t want to show his hand. “So?”
The dancer fixed him with expectant puppy dog eyes. “They’re online so we can do it together later at home. The shots are geared for guys, so I’d really like a guy’s opinion.”
Never in a million years would the young man ever say no to that face.
“Well, then, you’re cooking and we’re smoking your weed tonight,” Charlie smiled carting off the ladder. “Bong, no skins.”
+++++
Corey returned home that evening to find one-half of the garage full of packing boxes. Lauren had spent her day separating items they themselves were going to move. The current plan was to leave everything in place until the house sold, then rent a U-Haul. They’d learned over the years that certain things should not be entrusted to movers. What that meant, however, was that he had to leave his truck in the driveway. It didn’t matter; he was planning on selling it anyway.
Later that night, after two helpings of her famous lasagna, they settled onto a two-person wooden glider on the deck, snuggling under an old soccer blanket. The cool Iowan night was brisk but tolerable, and the sky was clear, providing a view of the stars.
“We’ll soon be looking at that moon off the coast,” Lauren smiled, nestling her head against his shoulder. “Together.”
“No regrets?” Corey asked.
“About what?”
“About anything.”
“No, you?”
He pondered that for a second, then shook his head. “No.”
“I think the move will do us good. Give us some pep in our step.”
Corey studied his hand pensively. “What about Zane?”
“What about him?”
That got her a ‘c’mon’ look.
Lauren rubbed her husband’s pudgy tummy. “He’s been our friend for years. Like you, I love him in that sense. We can’t just turn that friendship off. It wouldn’t be right. And he’s your best bud, for God’s sake.”
“You’re obviously attracted to him. That changes things.”
“Well…yeah…not gonna lie, he’s great in the sack,” she smiled, then put a finger on his nose. “But he’s not you. Nobody will ever be you. You are my rock. My constant. I can throw all sorts of shit at you and you always stand tall.”
“Like sleeping around so much?”
Lauren stopped stroking his neck and lifted her head with an odd expression. “Let’s remember who…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I started it. You just seem to be…”
“Enjoying the pass? Does that bother you? Not once have you asked me to stop.”
“No.”
Wishing to avoid an argument on their last day together, Corey changed the subject. He reached into a jacket pocket and handed her a small package with a smile. “If I was mad at you, would I have gotten you this?”
Lauren’s eyes lit up at the blue jewelry box. Tiffany’s signature case.
“What is it?”
“Just a little something. Happy Valentine’s Day. You can’t take flowers or candy on the plane tomorrow, so…”
Carefully, she unwrapped the bow and removed the box top. Inside, a heart-shaped gold locket and chain shone back at her in the moonlight.
“Oh my God, it’s wonderful!”
“Open it.”
Pressing a small lever, the two halves of the heart swung open, revealing a tiny photo of the couple from their wedding, carefully dissected so each smiled back from a side.
Lauren began tearing up, throwing appreciative arms around Corey’s neck. “You’re so good to me.”
“A rock.”
The flood waters came; she just couldn’t help it. “Yes, yes, yes, a rock,” the tears flowed openly now. “A great big giant mountain!”
Content, all apprehension melted away as Mr. Granite bent down and kissed the beautiful girl in his arms. One kiss turned into more, and soon they were making out like teenagers parked on Lover’s Lane. Finally, coming up for air, Lauren stood and pulled him out of the glider.
“Come…make love to me.”
+++++
“How about this one”? Chloe asked, taking a hit from a glass water pipe and passing it to Charlie. It was nearly ten o’clock and the two friends had grabbed a pizza before coming back to the two-bedroom apartment they shared. Now they were sprawled out on the living room floor using the cheap coffee table to view the pics on a laptop.
Less interested in the weed than the photo on the screen, he set it down. Only five pics into their review and the young man had a raging hardon which he was desperately trying to conceal. The current snap showed her poolside on top of Jason, looking directly at the camera with an ‘oh my’ expression. Below, the redhead’s pussy was next to the base of his large cock, while the shaft lay outside against her waist, it’s head nearly to her navel. The idea clearly was to show how deep it would go once inside.
A stirring in Charlie’s loins confirmed the sexual tension in the room. Fuck.
Chloe gauged the boy’s reaction and selected ‘approve’ with a smile. As they perused the online gallery, approving and rejecting, the titillation factor could not be overstated. Despite his attempt at hiding it, she was distinctly aware of the ever-present erection. Is this what I was hoping for? the dancer questioned herself. Is this the response I secretly wanted when asking him for help?
It didn’t matter how cheesy or overacted the photographs were, Charlie was definitely affected. If the promos’ purpose was to entice potential customers to buy videos, they certainly hit the mark. Some would be sold to the few remaining print magazines that advertised pornos, regardless of their hilarity and campness.
“Oh, Honey, what are you doing?” Charlie mimicked the porn film’s dialogue as pot smoke poured from his mouth. “Millie, he’s my boss for God’s sake!”
“Oh yes!” the fiery redhead chimed in. “He can boss me around any day!”
The pair fell about laughing. Neither had discussed the porno she’d costarred in just days ago, not even on the way back from the elaborate mansion. It was kind of an unwritten rule; never discuss business. Whether it be stripping or escort work. This was partially because neither wanted to bring up the elephant in the room: their feelings for each other. And making fun of the script was a welcome distraction to that.
“My wife has another man’s penis in her mouth, oh no!”
Chloe playfully punched him in the arm. “Oh my GOD, Mr. Johnson, what are you doing?”
If Charlie’s dick hadn’t been hard since seeing her emerge from the VIP room earlier with that fat slob, it was goddamn steel right then.
“Millie, PLEASE,” he cackled.
“Oh, I’m sure he will please me, unlike your pathetic cock!” the stripper pushed him down to the carpet, tickling him without mercy. “That’s it! Fuck me, Mr. Johnson. Fuck me like my wimp of a husband can’t.”
“Stop, stop, I’m gonna pee!” Charlie called out, holding her by the waist as she straddled him.
Without thinking, Chloe slid her crotch along his board shorts, encountering quite the lump. It was the first time in their long friendship they’d been in that position.
“Jesus Christ, perv, you’re hard as shit!”
“AM NOT!”
“The fuck you’re not. You’ve never been like this and you’ve seen my tits and pussy hundred a times at the club.”
“You’ve never had sex in front of me before, either have you?”
The redhead stopped and let go. He had a point.
“It was just sex. There was no emotion.”
Charlie gently pushed her off and sat up straight. “No emotion, huh? Was that no emotion I saw when you were riding him but looking at me? At me. You felt nothing?”
She knew he had seen the same thing in her eyes she’d seen in his. Lust and concupiscence. Perhaps even…love.
Turning back to the laptop, the amateur porn star began flipping through more photos.
“I saw it, you know.”
The boy peeked over her shoulder. “Saw what?”
“This,” she said, patting his still-hard tent. “While you were watching.”
He gulped. It was the first time she’d ever touched him there. “Well…it was kinda hot.”
“What does that mean?” Chloe asked, stopping on a pic of her mouth around Jason’s cock. She clicked “approve” and leaned into Charlie’s chest, the smell of testosterone filling her nostrils.
“I don’t know,” he replied softly, “I guess I wanted to be him.”
The small bubble butt pressed into his pelvis.
“You did?” the dancer gasped.
A low moan emanated from the young man’s lips. “Yes.”
“You wanted your cock in my pussy?”
“I’m sorry, Chlo, I know I shouldn’t.”
The dancer’s eyes shut as Charlie’s hands caressed her quivering sides, slowly making their way to that hefty chest. He took his time, afraid she’d react like once before when he immediately got friend-zoned.
Might it be different this time?
This put Chloe in a bad position. It wasn’t that she didn’t find him attractive or enjoy his company. They were best friends, soulmates even. But time and time again she’d seen her coworkers date men who simply could not handle romancing a sex worker. It took a particular kind of guy to tolerate that kind of career and there weren’t many around. One with a fetish that prescribed their women making it with other men. Like the kink that Lauren Miller’s husband had.
The young man’s lips were on her neck now, fingers of one hand lightly dancing on her breast, the other massaging a very fat cameltoe beneath her terrycloth boy shorts.
“You got off on seeing me with Jason, Chaz?”
The silence spoke volumes.
“And at the club? Do you enjoy seeing me take off my clothes for pleasure?”
“Of course, you’re gorgeous.”
Charlie switched to the other side of her neck, nipping at her ears. Her moans began to blend with his.
“Could you handle men using me as their plaything?”
“I…”
“As their whore?”
“I…I…”
The exotic dancer was testing him now, of course. Chloe, if nothing else, was a well-read courtesan. She knew the signs of a potential cuckold. Might that be a good fit for her Charlie?
“Driving me to my escort clients and waiting outside while they do all sorts of bad things to me? You know what happens during my dates, right? They destroy my pussy, just like Jason did.”
“Jesus, I…I just…”
“Could YOU fuck me, baby? Fuck me after a hard day at work? A day of being a dirty, filthy cum bucket?”
“Oh GOD, Chloe, please…I DON’T KNOW!” Charlie cried out, holding her tight. “I don’t know, I just don’t know.”
Chloe’s shoulders drooped in disappointment.
“Are you sure you don’t know?” she whispered, like a child whose hopes of getting a coveted toy at the store are fading fast. Exhaling heavily, the stripper damned her own integrity. Taking the young man’s love and nurturing it would have been good for her, but disastrous for him. She simply wouldn’t ruin the friendship they already had for a few precious moments in bed. It wouldn’t be fair. Wriggling out of Charlie’s grasp, a tear formed in one eye and ran down her cheek.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I can’t. I just can’t. I don’t want to hurt you.”
With that, the redhead grabbed the laptop and ran to her room, letting the door slam behind her.
Charlie sat on the floor of the tiny apartment stunned, his dick throbbing against his shorts. He could hear her sobbing, but there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say. Twice he’d taken a shot and twice shot down. While this was the closest the boy had ever gotten, the love he had for the girl remained unrequited.
Shaking his head, he crawled up on their old sofa and fired up another bowl. He lay there for a long time staring at the ceiling until the flower helped him drift off into yet another fitful sleep.
+++++
“Go on, babe,” Lauren smiled coyly, “lay down.”
Having had enough of the Des Moines chill, the longtime couple found themselves in bed now, naked as the day they were born. Feeling the effects of three beers, two shots of whiskey, and a bottle of wine, the graying sixty-one-year-old obeyed, his aging and weathered body trembling under her touch. Although the last few months had given her a greater appreciation for more athletic penises, it was with love, not lust, that Lauren worked her magic fingers now, massaging the increasingly wrinkled skin on his calves and thighs. While the dark-haired vixen very much enjoyed bringing those studs to a raucous orgasm, nothing was as satisfying as seeing the man she loved writhe with anticipation. Especially when her ruby-red lips descended over his twitching dick.
“Picking up where you left off this morning?” he asked, closing his eyes.
“Mmmpfffft.”
Cupping the weak nutsack, Lauren easily swallowed the entire shaft, nose flinching at wiry pubic hairs, poking, scratching. The balls on younger men were much more masculine, the flesh taut and alive. By no fault of his own, of course, but Corey’s had been sagging for years now, gravity having its way.
“Damn, that’s…that’s…sooooo good.”
“Mmm, I know, lover.”
Slowly, his flaccid dick was coming to life, but these days it needed more help than ever. Carefully, Lauren swung her hips over Corey’s head, lowering her bald labia onto his face. The scene in the mirror over the dresser reflected the efforts of the beautiful brunette. As the skin of her ass cheeks grazed his forehead, she noticed the sturdiness of her still lithe body, abs, and hourglass figure kept tight by daily trips to the gym. In contrast, she looked out over her much older husband as she wrapped and tied off the black mane of hair atop her head. Up until eight months ago, it had been the only male body she’d known since marrying, and been contented with it in the thirty years they’d been together. Now, with his insistence, she’d found the intemperance of other men.
Still, the sixty-nine she was about to treat her husband to was done out of pure love. What else could make her enthusiastic as she bent over, hands traversing the senescent loose folds and skin tags, beginning with his jiggly man-boobs, over a pudgy tummy, passed a rippled and expanding waistline?
With manufactured gusto, she began bobbing her head up and down on his struggling manhood, hoping to get it hard enough for penetration. She so WANTED to give him the fuck he was always begging for. The one he deserved.
But…Jesus…give me something to work with.
Corey groaned while lapping at her shaved lips, his tongue darting in and out of the watering slit. Lauren moaned too. She couldn’t lie, it felt good. Not Zane or Alex or Tony good, but good. Whether that night was going to be great was anyone’s guess, but it didn’t matter. Tonight wasn’t about her.
“That’s it, hon, eat my pussy. Let me feel it.”
Corey obliged, spreading the butterfly wide and slurping the juices that continually flowed out of the pink hole. He’d lap it up, just for it to be immediately replaced by more. The joy he felt as his wife sat on his face was indescribable, and yet, as enjoyable as her nectar was, he wanted his cock in there too, as it had been a thousand times before.
But wasn’t that when it was hard and proud and virile? When I could give her a good seeing too without resorting to toys? Christ, even now with the sight of her sex staring him in the face, he was having difficulty getting it up. The damage that did to a man’s psyche was indescribable and very damning.
It was a fact that did not escape Lauren. Surfacing from a particularly long deep dive, she gasped, a bit of saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth.
“Almost there, babe,” she licked the bottom of his shaft. “Then you’ll be able to fuck me. You do want to fuck me, right? I’ll let you. All night long.”
Well, or ten minutes, whichever comes first.
“I’m trying,” Corey blurted out, cursing his doctor for refusing to prescribe helpers. Something about a contradiction with his high blood pressure. Surely a heart attack would be more welcome than not being able to make love to one’s wife.
Sighing, but not yet ready to throw in the towel, Lauren switched things up. Corey protested as she removed her warm ass from his face, leaving it sticky and gleaming, and moved beside him. Slowly closing fingers around the vertically challenged dick, she began stroking him with a steady rhythm, while her other hand went to his chest. Grinning, she let the back of it lightly touch one nipple, then the other, knuckles teasing the nubs to hardness. Many decades together had taught her what he liked, and this was a favorite. Rigid now, she let her nails tease the hairy areolae until his pectorals hardened in that way that men with man-boobs do when excited. As his breathing deepened and he squirmed beneath her touch, the budding cuckoldress knew she had him exactly where she wanted him.
“C’mon, Twisty, get hard for me.”
The embattled penis jumped.
“That’s right. I want this cock in me right now. I want to feel it in my wet cunt. Can you do that for me?”
The nervous project manager nodded bleakly, not at all sure if he – or it – was up to the task.
Goddamn wine.
“You don’t want me to call Zane to finish the job, do you?”
Corey shook his head rapidly back and forth. “No, no, no.”
“Then DO IT, baby, get it up. Get hard for your whore wife. I need to get fucked soooo badly!”
“Yes, yes. I will.”
“Will you? Or should I get a real man over here? Maybe Toby and Sean are available to finish what I started at Zane’s.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I? They know what a slut I am now, so why not? Yes, that’s right, your best friends know your little wife is a whore. And, believe me, Toby felt like he had a lot to offer.”
“OH FUCK!” Corey slammed the back of his head into a pillow while his hips lifted about four inches off the mattress. “Please…please!”
“Please what? Please call them? They enjoyed seeing my breasts, I could see it in their eyes. That’s right, all those years of staring at me behind your back. Leering at me while you weren’t looking. Wondering at cookouts what my itty-bitty titties looked like beneath those tank tops and halters. Well, now they know, don’t they?”
Lauren squeezed one of his droopy pecs. It felt like what she imagined a nun’s tit would.
“DON’T THEY?”
“OW…yes!”
“Now they can tell your other friends how slutty your wife is. How she nearly paid her debt with her willing mouth.”
She could feel the blood surge to the newly invigorated cock in her hand. It was pulsating hard.
Corey grit his teeth, gasping for air as she laid it on thicker, fingering a bumpy nipple that sent bolts of lightning to his hardening dick.
“I should’ve just fucked ’em there and got it over with.”
“NO!”
“Why not, YOU sure the hell can’t get me off, can you cuck? You need other men to satisfy your wife.”
“OHHHHHH nooooo.”
“I can still do it, you know. Leave Iowa with a bang,” Lauren laughed manically, “literally…one big bang, all your buddies doing me!”
“GOD HELP ME!”
Leaning over, she put her nose on his, causing the bun to fall, allowing all that perfumed black hair to cascade about them like a cloak.
“Speaking of God, perhaps I should pay Pastor Adams a visit. He always had an eye for my ass, you know.”
“What?
“Uh-huh. I used to see him, watching me bend over as I put the kid’s coats on after service. He sure the hell wasn’t smiling at them. Maybe he can lift my pretty little Sunday dress and put the Holy Spirit in me.”
“WHY LAUR, WHY? Why have you become such a tramp?”
“WHY?”
Corey’s eyes grew as big as saucers as he saw her demeanor change in a flash. Noses touching, Lauren went off, spittle flying everywhere,
“BECAUSE SOMEONE HAS TO FUCK ME, YOU PATHETIC GODDAMN CUCK. YOU’RE HARDLY WORTH THE TIME!”
It came quickly and without warning. The only thing the couple remembered later was Corey erupting into an unprecedented rage, throwing her onto her back and forcing her legs open. There was some pain at first, but that gave way to wave after wave of pleasure for both as he drove – no, stabbed – his engorged cock into her dripping pussy. Meeting each thrust with her hips, Lauren stared deeply into his eyes, fingers tearing at his short gray hair, begging for more.
“That’s it, CUCK! I know what makes you tick. Now do me, babe, make me cum. PLEASE MAKE ME CUM!”
The bed began to shake as the couple fucked with no restraint. This was not making love; they were simply two animals humping in the woods in a tempestuous coupling. Wrapping her legs around his tubby waist, she squeezed and tightened her grip.
“GIVE…IT…TO…ME…TWISTY!”
“UMPFFFFFF!” Corey bellowed, “FUCKING WHORE!”
“YES YES YES!” Lauren responded with her head thrown back. “I am your whore, nothing but a filthy, nasty slut!”
“OH GAWWWWD!”
It had barely been a minute, but both knew he was close.
“GIVE ME YOUR LOVE, BABY, GIVE ME ALL YOUR LOVE!”
The grunts from above told her he needed just a little more help.
“Pastor Adams…staring at me from the pulpit…me spreading my legs from the pew…revealing the promised land.”
“OH FUCK!”