Heather Brown

Hot and wild wife

CHAPTER ONE

His cock was hard in my cunt. The way it kept swelling and pushing I knew the stranger was getting ready to come.

Wiggling my ass in anticipation, I drove his throbbing prick even further up my pussy. My cunt was convulsing, spasming from orgasm as I waited for his hot, sticky load.

"Come in me," I hissed impatiently in his ear. "Come in me, you bastard. Fill my pussy with your cum!"

"Unnnnhhh," he groaned, unable to make sense while he concentrated on fucking. His hips bucked desperately as he tried to meet my demand.

"Come! Come, you bastard!" I implored again, wrapping my legs around his waist. My hand gripped his churning balls, squeezing them so they would explode.

Then I could feel his cock-head surging like it was going to crack my spine, and I knew everything was going to come out exactly as I wanted it. Sperm suddenly poured from his thrusting dick, filling my cunt with boiling syrup.

"More! More!" I directed, greedy for as much of his hot jizz as I could get.

He did his best. Twisting his prick inside me like it was a corkscrew, he shot load after load of cum up my pussy. The excess dribbled from my pussy, oozing down my inner thighs and glazing my naked flesh. When he finally stopped coming I was drenched with fresh semen to my knees.

Even after he stopped coming my orgasm persisted. My legs remained locked around his waist, my body refusing to give up his long, stiff cock. Tightening my fluttering pussy walls around his prick, I fought to keep it within me, desperately struggling to keep it hard.

"More, give me more," I moaned. "Don't you have anything left inside there?"

Panting so much that he was still unable to talk, he shook his head.

I refused to accept his negative conclusion, continuing to work the magic of my tight cunt and wriggling ass on his cock. The sticky cum foaming out of my pussy just made me want more. Suddenly I was an animal, willing to do anything to get it.

"Fuck me in the ass!" I blurted.

I didn't give him a chance to make up his mind. Plunging my hands into the hairy knot of out fuck-locked loins, I found the pulsing root of his prick. Pressing my fingers into the base of his cock, I moved my pelvis back and wetly slid his prick out of my cunt.

His prick was dripping with cum. I slipped automatically toward my asshole, leaving a viscous trail of semen. There was little friction as the head of his prick centered against my asshole and immediately started to penetrate.

His cock slipped four inches into my ass effortlessly. His sperm was the best lubricant for ass-fucking that anyone could conceive. The only problem with his initial entry was that I wanted a lot more than a mere four inches of cock up my ass.

"Harder… farther…" I gasped. "I want your dick in my ass all the way. All the way up to your nuts."

Pushing with a loud grunt, he sent his prick to its full eight-inch length up me, gouging into my bowels.

I loved getting fucked in the ass. Every chance I could get I took a guy's prick in my shit-pit, along with my cunt and mouth.

I can take eight inches of cock up my ass. More than I should, in fact. But I like the guy's prick to be about a half an inch too long for my asshole. That way he gives me a good banging, and I can really feel it. I suspect it's dangerous, but it sure as hell is exciting.

If I wanted to play it safe, I'd spend all day cleaning house, waiting for my husband to come home from the university. I'd fix him dinner, we'd watch TV, and then, maybe, if he wasn't too tired, coax him into fucking me just before he fell asleep. If I was lucky he'd manage to come before he started to snore.

It's funny, but the more supposedly inappropriate the setting is, the better the fuck is. Look at the cock fucking the blazes out of my ass. Christ, we were doing it in the back of a van, and I was spread-eagled on a pile of dirty laundry. The sour smell of soiled linen mixed with the reek of my pussy-flow, and then the pungency of fresh sperm, made the atmosphere heavy and funky enough to ladle with a spoon.

Not only that, after he'd picked me up, the driver was so anxious to get it on after I asked him to please fuck me, he forgot td put any money in the meter after pulling his laundry truck over to the curb. A cop could give us a parking ticket at any moment and discover us fucking. Christ, the way I felt now, I'd ask him to dive in and join us.

On the other hand, with my husband Leo, we had a whole bed to fuck on with fresh-smelling sheets. There was nobody to bother us. The setting was seemingly ideal for making love. Yet our sex life was unbelievably dull and routine. Each of us could have masturbated and gotten more out of it.

However, in a musty-smelling, cramped laundry truck, on a busy street at three in the afternoon, daring a cop to look in on us, I was having the time of my life with a stranger's cock surging eight inches up my ass.

I didn't know his name. And I didn't want to. All I was interested in was his hard, throbbing cock. Oh, how it rammed up my ass, compacting the hot shit in my colon into a ball.

"Come… come in my ass," I cried. "Cream in my ass!"

The last time I'd said anything like that to my husband had been on our honeymoon.

My mystery lover ground his loins against the well of my thighs, his crinkly pubic hair rubbing maddeningly against my pussy lips.

"Come, come, come!" I babbled, no longer conscious of anything but the prospect of his hot sperm bathing my insides.

"Ooooomph!" he grunted. Abruptly, his dick exploded up my ass. Cum spurted out like I was getting an enema. The thickness was incredible as his cream flooded my bowels. A boiling mixture of semen and shit boiled at the core of my being. The twisted agony was divine.

"That's it," I moaned, "that's it. Once more. More cum. More cum in my ass!"

Where be was getting it I don't know. But his sperm just wouldn't stop shooting.

An intense anal orgasm joined the one still smoldering in my cunt. Together they whipsawed the center of my body. I couldn't believe that this was happening to me, yet I wouldn't have settled for anything else.

When he stopped spurting I realized that I had probably gotten everything out of him that I could. I pulled his softening cock out of my ass with a loud pop, and then got on my hands and knees, rolled him over, and tenderly went down on it. Tasting the last cum on an exhausted prick was my favorite dessert.

His cock was like a china buffet, presenting every flavor I loved. The taste of pussy mixed with his prick's native saltiness; the pungency of my ass perfectly complemented the sweetness of his sperm. I couldn't get enough, lapping away at his twitching cock until it was clean.

When his prick had shriveled, I put the whole thing in my mouth along with his sagging balls. Leaving a ring of lipstick around his groin, I gave his cock and balls one long, last, sweet suck. My lips smacked against his crotch with my final taste, and then I slowly slid my lips up his prick, reluctantly leaving it.

My partner was totally exhausted, sprawled spread-eagled across a load of dirty laundry. He didn't notice as I reached for my clothes, scrambling all around the van to retrieve them.

I slid my panties over my legs, feeling their wetness against my thighs. I hadn't gotten them off in time to avoid staining them with pussy juice. But, then, how could I have? I'd been creaming in my pants long before I ever hitched a ride from the laundry truck.

When my skirt and sweater were on, I slipped on my shoes and moved toward the cab of the van and the front door. I took one last look at the cock that had given me so much pleasure. It was flaccid and limp now, not even half of its erect length, but I would remember it as it had appeared in my cunt and ass: big and hard and tough.

I cleared my throat, trying to get the driver's attention so I could say so long. It was no use. I could have given him a hot foot and he wouldn't have budged.

"Thanks for the ride," I called over my shoulder as I opened the door and jumped out. I slammed the door and realized that I'd probably never see him again, but the memory of his cock would live in my mind forever.

Walking down the street, I smoothed my skirt over my wet panties and mentally notched up another prick, the way a gunfighter would mark his victims on his gun handle. Then I started looking all over again, searching for new action.

CHAPTER TWO

Why am I doing this?

That's the question I asked myself over and over again. Sometimes it would come when I was right in the middle of some heavy action. I'd be going down on nine inches of hard-on and all of a sudden the question would surface in my mind.

Just shut up and suck, I'd answer myself, focusing all of my attention on the dick fucking my mouth.

But although I could put it off for awhile, the question always returned. Again and again. It got so that the only place I could temporarily flee from it was into the arms of some stranger from whom I'd hitched a ride. With his cock out, and hard and stiff in my mouth or cunt or ass, I could put the question off for awhile.

However, it inevitably returned. I was caught in a vicious cycle. The very thing that caused me to torture myself with the question, was my temporary salvation from it.

Sex with strangers was like a drug with me, my habit feeding itself more everyday.

Everyday I looked forward to it more. When I woke up in the morning, Leo already gone to the university, the first thing I thought about was how many cocks I was going to polish off today. I could hardly stand the delay of getting up and getting dressed before I could hit the streets and get what I wanted.

Plenty of wives cheat on their husbands, so there are lots of opportunities for the bored housewife. But I couldn't tolerate the preliminaries and delays of the usual ways to get a man in the sack with you. I didn't want to waste half a day seducing the TV repairman.

When I wanted sex, I wanted it immediately – with no strings attached. So I took to the streets, using my thumb as my passport, hitchhiking all over the city as a way to meet the guys whose clicks I craved.

I originally took up hitchhiking out of desperation, bored out of my mind with my meaningless routine as a housewife, not to mention my blah sex life with Leo. Impatient with my life, one day I burst out of the house in utter frustration, frantic for something to relieve me of my tediousness. I just started walking, not knowing where I was headed, pleased to just be out of that prison of a house.

I guess I just wanted movement, something happening in my day instead of doing housework and watching soap operas and game shows. When a guy pulled over to the curb and asked me if I wanted a ride, I automatically said yes, even though I was really going nowhere.

Getting it on with a stranger wasn't what I exactly had in mind when I accepted that first ride, but what happened after I got in the car opened up a whole new world of opportunity for me.

The driver of that first car was from out of town. Probably a salesman in town for a convention, cruising around in a rented car, maybe looking for hookers.

He was the kind of red-faced, middle-aged guy in loud polyester sports clothes that I ordinarily would have held in contempt. The kind of middle-American that Leo, as a college professor, was always putting down. Socially, I never had any contact with someone like this, as though we were from two different worlds.

But when I got in that car with him, the attraction between us was immediate and electric. The fact that he was a stranger and that Leo would have hated him suddenly made being with him very attractive. When he asked me where I was going, I answered, "Wherever you are."

He couldn't believe his luck and I couldn't believe I had said it.

"DO you mean it?" he said, the expression on his face a combination of doubt and anticipation.

Did I? I squirmed in my seat, trying to determine my answer. When my thighs rubbed together I suddenly realized that my pussy was soaking wet.

"Of course I meant it," I said. "Now, where are you going?"

"To my room," he said expectantly, saying it more as a question than a statement of fact.

I nodded my head, desperately wanting to keep the fire between my legs burning, and knowing I'd have to go along with him to do it. "To your room."

That's when I found out how accurately I'd sized him up. He was a farm implements salesman, in town for a convention at the civic center, staying at the Holiday Inn. As he babbled on, telling me about himself and his family back in Iowa, I found myself getting hornier and hornier. The more unlike Leo he seemed, the hotter I got. As he talked, I closed my eyes and imagined what his cock would be like, imagining my first taste of it.

I only stopped him when he started to tell me his name. "No, no," I blurted, realizing that one of the things making me so aroused was that we were total strangers. "That would ruin it if I knew your name," I tried to explain. "You just be he… and I'll be she. I'm sure we'll be, able to tell each other apart."

To make my point I put my hand between his legs, resting my hand on his crotch. The hardness of his cock under his checkered pants startled me. My fingers clutched the rising mound impulsively.

Then I took his hand and slid it under my skirt. My panties were soaked clear through, like they weren't there when his fingers reached my pussy. Immediately he began playing with my clit through the clinging panty fabric, rubbing me into a miniature orgasm.

"I see what you mean," he panted, "about me being me and you being you. Wait'll I get you inside the Holiday Inn."

"Let's not wait for the Holiday Inn," I blurted. "Do it to me here."

"Here… in the car?" he asked incredulously. Then a big grin spread across his broad face. "Shucks, I ain't done that since I was back in high school. Like when I first met my wife. You sure you wanna do it in the car, honey?"

I nodded, looking at him with eager eyes.

While he was still beaming, my fingers tore open his fly, grappling for his dick. In seconds I had it out, a long pink monster that looked as pampered and corn-fed as a prize country hog.

Just as I settled my lips in a wet ring around the head of his prick, the car swerved. My head banged against the dashboard after we came lurching to a sudden stop.

"Jesus," he whined. "You shouldn't suck a fella's cock while he's driving."

"Just shut up and fuck my mouth," I said, and then swallowed a good three inches of him.

"But there's people outside…"

"Forget 'em," I snapped just before engorging another couple of inches of his prick in my mouth.

"Okay," he panted. "I'll throw my leisure jacket over your head. That way nobody will see what you're doing."

I could no longer reply, my mouth stuffed with a half a foot of throbbing cock. Letting my thighs do my talking for me, I squeezed his hand at my pussy, drenching his fingers with oozing cunt-juice.

"Lemme go, lemme go," he said frantically. "I have to get my jacket off."

Contending myself with his prick in my mouth, I temporarily freed him. But when his jacket was covering my head, and I had no vision except what my imagination could provide me, I reached for his hand again, pulling it back into my crotch.

"Finger-fuck me," I begged him, temporarily letting his cock slip enough out of my mouth so I could talk. "Make me come."

As his fingers slid under my panties and rubbed against the sticky gash of my cunt, I saw it all in devastating detail in my mind. It was as though I had an eye at my clit, watching every juicy occurrence at my pussy.

Then, suddenly, the, question that has been recurring ever since asked itself for the first time, why am I doing this?