Duncan Fox
Hungry spouse
CHAPTER ONE
The scorching sun burned down on skin not normally exposed. The slow, lazy swell from a distant power boat made the sailboat sway lazily in the dead calm. The boom swung languidly from side to side; the sail hung listlessly, unpressured by the dead air.
Jerry Anderson's skin slid slickly against the satin-smooth skin of the teenage girl under him. Lubricated by their sweat and cairn, he had the feeling he was liable to slide off her slender young body, even though he was nestled between her gripping thighs. Every breath they took made her small tits slide against his strong, hairy chest.
Breathing heavily, Jerry concentrated on all of these sensations, and on Cindy Peters' hot breath puffing in his ear. He concentrated, too, on the feel of her hot, tight cunt embracing his now limp and drained cock.
The only thing he did not want to think of was that she was young enough to be his daughter. He did not want to think about the fact that his own daughter, Judy, shared birthdays with the slender young creature pinned to the floor of the cockpit by his heavy body.
"Ooooooo, wow!" Cindy sighed under him, wriggling her hips. "Aaaawww, you're all gone away," she pouted.
Jerry wondered what had driven him to ravish this not-so-innocent teenager the way he had. How could he have fallen so low? He reviewed how it had all started.
"Gee, am I hot," Cindy sighed, leaning back against the gun whales. She still held the jib sheet loosely in one hand, even though it was unnecessary. There was not enough wind to even stir the limp canvas.
Jerry wrenched his eyes off the slender girl and looked up at the mainsail. Its only motion was a slow, lazy flapping as the small sailboat rocked on the glassy swells. Then he swept the horizon, searching for some hint of a breeze. As far as he could see, the water of the sound was as smooth as a mirror.
He looked back at the girl, and felt his throat tighten slightly as he studied her sun bleached and streaked light-brown hair. Her small breasts thrust out against the bib halter she wore. Her sleek back was a long, graceful expanse of tanned skin, and was shining with a film of sweat. Her legs seemed incredibly long – she had stretched them across the cockpit and braced her feet on the seat on the opposite side. Her hacked-off blue jeans were as tight as a second layer of skin.
"I'm sorry, Cindy," Jerry apologized. "This is a pretty dull sail. Even Sue wouldn't be seasick on a day this calm." He wondered why he had mentioned the name of his wife – self-defense or something?