Mickey France

A young wife_s revenge

CHAPTER ONE

The man parked his weary old Chevrolet out in the street, rather than pull it into the circular driveway where it would have looked ludicrously out of place. The man himself looked out of place… as weary and out-of-date as his automobile. His pleated out-of-fashion trousers were shiny in the seat, the occupational hazard of a patrol car cop or a man who spends long hours seated behind the wheel of his car waiting for something or someone. And that was his profession: A man hired to wait patiently… a man paid to observe and put his observations in printed or photographic form.

He scratched the black-gray stubble of his beard as he pushed the button beside the door. Somewhere deep in the confines of the house, he could hear the chimes. It was an expensive sound… just as the house was expensive… and the woman who lived in the house, and who had hired him.

She opened the door, and once again the man felt his groin tighten in desire for her. She was taller than his five foot nine by at least three inches… “statuesque” that was the only word for her, he thought. Her breasts were like Arkansas cantaloupes, so ripe that a man’s hand wouldn’t begin to cover the mound of flesh; and she had a way of looking at a man that caused his balls to melt and his prick to freeze. It was all he could do to keep from moaning deep in his throat just from the sight of her. For a brief moment he thought he would have liked to have spent hours just watching her, but he knew that would be a painful mistake… even watching her for a minute or two was too much. To look at her was to want to go down on her and fuck hell out of her… and the man knew he had about as much chance of doing that as he had of becoming President of the United States.

“Mister Shelton, Come in please.” she ordered, and the sound of her voice coming from those full, generous lips, sent a tingle rippling along his inner thigh.

“Mrs. Akron,” he acknowledged, feeling at once stupid, ill-kempt and uncivilized.

“We can talk in the library.” she said, and turned away from him to lead the way to the room.

He followed, watching her buttocks move sinuously in the tight hip-huggers. She was all motion, smooth, powerful, welcoming. God, he thought, how beautifully she swings that ass. In his mind he kissed and nibbled like a hungry rabbit at those supple mounds of moving muscle, and could almost feel his pecker slowly slipping between them. That was a mistake; one that if allowed to grow to fruition would not go away for a long time. By a supreme effort, he finally made his errant penis subside.

The woman motioned him to the couch and then eased herself into a large leather chair facing him. As she sat, he noticed the way her slacks tugged in between her legs; her delectable pussy was clearly outlined… the whole wonderful vaginal slit was there, hiding just behind the cloth. To kiss that would be heaven! His dreaming penis stirred restlessly again at the thought, for he knew she wasn’t wearing a damned thing under the slacks.

“Well, Mister Shelton… you heard some news?”

He had an instinctive feeling that his information and the photographs were going to hurt her. For just a moment he deliberated whether he should produce the evidence or not, then he mentally shrugged. Hell, that was why she had hired him in the first place. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and withdrew a thick manila envelope from his coat pocket.

He passed it over and watched her weigh it in her hand. After a moment, her half-frightened eyes looked directly at him, as if seeking reassurance. “Is it bad?”

He swallowed. “I’m afraid so.” Then he added quickly, “You might prefer not to see them… or maybe look at them after I’ve gone.”

“I see. They’re as bad as that?”

He nodded. And they would be bad from her point of view. From a photography standpoint however; they were goddamned good pictures… shot under extremely trying circumstances. His telephoto lens had caught every hair on the Smith girl’s hot, twitching, little pussy… every hair on Mrs. Akron’s husband’s mustache as the banker used his tongue, lips, teeth, and mustache to scour his new secretary’s cunt. Another photo showed the girl with her full ripe lips pooching out as they lovingly clung to the shaft of Mr. Akron’s hardened cock. Still another photograph showed him pounding away at the wildly thrashing figure, with his prick buried deep in her hungrily clasping vagina. For that shot, Shelton had focused on the banker’s rectum; it was one of the best action shots he had ever taken.

Mrs. Akron continued to stare at him as if she were reading his mind. Finally she closed her eyes and took a deep reluctant breath. Then she quickly ran her fingernail under the flap of the envelope and pulled out the five by seven pictures. The one on top showed the couple walking into a motel room. The second showed the nude girl on her knees helping the banker off with his trousers. His erection could clearly be seen in the snapshot. The third was where it really got interesting, and Shelton watched her carefully when she got to it.

Sylvia Akron felt the blood rush to her face when she looked at the third picture. She gasped aloud. There was her husband, Bruce, with an idiotic grin on his face as the girl sucked rapaciously on his penis. Bruce had been after her to do that same thing to him ever since they were married, but she had refused, feeling the act was unsanitary, perverted, and dirty. She knew her hands were trembling, and she wasn’t sure whether the movement came from anger, hurt, or embarrassment.

She looked at the next photograph. There was Bruce, his face buried between the girl’s widespread thighs. And suddenly she was very angry. “That filthy son of a bitch!” she hissed through clenched teeth.

Shelton shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

“Not half as sorry as Mr. Bruce Akron is going to be,” she snapped, her mind wildly searching for an idea… for any way to really make her husband sorry. And abruptly, it came to her.

It was so audacious that she found herself completely frozen for a moment. But the more she thought about it, the more the idea appealed to her. It would be horribly degrading for her, but what did that matter; it was oh so beautiful, an act of revenge! She looked at the private detective opposite her. She would have liked someone better looking… someone younger. But he’d do; he’d have to do! She knew he would go along with it; after all, he had been staring at her in that hungry, rather obvious way men have of looking when they want a woman.

“Mister Shelton, do you have your camera with you?”

Puzzled, he nodded.

Sylvia hesitated, seeking a way of putting it into words. She stood up and deliberately took a deeper than normal breath to make her breasts swell inside the thin blouse. “I want to get revenge on my husband. The only way I can do that is to embarrass him in public. I need photographs for that. For an extra fee, would you take some photographs of me… and you… together, like this?” She tapped the pictures.

Shelton almost fell out of his chair in surprise. He had heard it with his own ears, but he still didn’t believe it… feeling he had misinterpreted her remarks. “I’m not sure I understand,” he said, cautiously.

“Of course you do,” Sylvia snapped. “Can’t you set your camera so it will take an automatic photograph of the two of us together. I mean, you don’t always have to stand behind the camera, do you?”

Shelton blinked. My God, he thought, she’s actually serious. The bitch is serious! Suddenly his throat was dry. Never in his entire life had he encountered anything quite as kooky, but he wasn’t about to permit this bit of luck slip out of his hands.

“Let me get this straight,” he said slowly and with emphasis. “You want me to take a picture of us,” he pointed his finger at her and then at himself, “the two of us doing what the girl… and, ah, your husband… are doing in these photographs.”

“Yes.”

He swallowed audibly, feeling the blood beginning to surge to and fro in his groin. “Everything?”

“Everything, Mister Shelton. Including, I believe the technical terms are ‘fellatio’ and ‘cunnilingus’.”

“Jesus,” he muttered softly, staring at that luscious body opposite him. Never before had there been such a wonderful crazy proposition offered him. Sweat was breaking out on his forehead, and he used the palm of his hand to wipe it away.

“Well? Will you do it… for an additional two hundred dollars?”

The private detective had wanted to blurt out that he would do it for nothing… would be happy to pay her! But he kept his mouth shut, sternly telling himself, “Don’t louse this up, Tod old boy. Let her take the lead.” He tried to look as if he were weighing the pros and cons of the situation. After a moment, he said, “That would be very satisfactory.”

“Fine, then. Go get your camera, come back and set it up in my husband’s bedroom.”

Ordinarily Shelton could have made the camera and tripod setup in less than a minute; however, he was so excited by what was about to happen that it took over five minutes and three trips back to the car before he had everything, including the remote snap cable,

The woman had disappeared following his last trip back to the bedroom, and now he could hear the shower running in the bathroom. He didn’t know what to do… whether to get his clothes off, or wait for instructions.

About three minutes later he heard the water die and the sound of a glass shower door snap open. He was staring out the window at the blue waters of the patio’s Olympic-sized swimming pool when he heard the voice behind him. “I have washed myself for you. Would you care to take a shower, also?”

He spun quickly around and felt his breath hiss out of his body just as if he had been kicked in the groin. “Sweet Jesus,” he groaned, and his penis leapt to a sudden throbbing life as his famished eyes took in her lush nude body. Her harvest moon breasts, still damp from the shower, shone as if they had little lights buried beneath the warm golden skin. The areola, about the size of brown half-dollars, created little halos around the nipples. Her belly was smooth, as gently rounded as an alluvial plain, where it flowed toward the hairy tributaries of her soft pubic triangle. She had a woman’s hips, he observed… a real woman’s. Her thighs were almost muscular; they looked powerful… and the thought of those wrapped around his waist or across his shoulders brought immediate pain to his loins. “My God… you are so beautiful,” he said, reverently.

Sylvia refused to accept the compliment; she wanted to keep this on strictly a non-personal basis. It was imperative that he realize he was only a servant… that under ordinary circumstances she wouldn’t give him the time of day, much less her body.

“I think you should take a shower,” she said coldly, “And you can use my husband’s electric razor to shave.”

For one split second, anger flared in Shelton’s mind. But then he shoved it aside, thinking to himself: Just wait, baby… just wait. In less than twenty minutes you’ll be screaming for me to fuck you good. Just wait.

He sat down and slowly took off his shoes and socks. One of the socks had a hole where the nail of the big toe had gouged through. Next, he removed his coat, his tie, shirt and tee shirt. He watched the woman with some amusement. She looked completely off balance… Embarrassed… obviously not knowing whether to stay and see the strip tease or get out. To hell with her, he thought, and he dropped his trousers. The huge bulge of his penis threatened to rip the seams out of his jockey shorts. Then, never taking his eyes from her, Shelton pulled down the shorts.

Sylvia knew her eyes had widened, that her face had turned crimson, as she saw the mammoth penis leap out like a tiger released from a cage. Good Lord, it was so big! Her eyes were locked on the white throbbing instrument. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea, after all. He would split her with that; she didn’t know how any woman could take it. Then feeling sudden guilt and embarrassment, she forced her eyes up to his face and saw that he was watching her with amusement. That made her very angry. “Take your shower,” she commanded.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered in mock meekness.

Sylvia watched him walk across the room. His testicles dangled like huge twin pendulums on a clock, and his organ was stuck out and up in an angle that made it look like an elevated artillery gun being sighted before firing.

Now that he was out of the room, she tried to force her mind into some semblance of order. She felt that all of the photographs probably could be taken in about two or three minutes. They would be posed. The detective obviously would want to try to have real sexual intercourse with her but she would permit him to put his penis inside her only long enough for the photograph to be taken. She wouldn’t permit him to make any movements, nothing! Just the photograph. As for the other two or three things she was forcing herself to do, well… she’d do them and permit them to be done to her, but she knew she would be fighting regurgitation all the way. And she’d gargle and douche thoroughly afterwards!

Abruptly Sylvia realized the water had been turned off and she was now hearing the muted whine of an electric razor. Then it, too, fell silent. She sat, apprehensive, on the edge of the huge king-sized bed waiting for him to make an appearance. Her usually orderly mind was beginning to churn. Once again she began to doubt the wisdom of what she was about to do. Was it really wise or logical to debase herself just to publicly embarrass her husband? Wasn’t that stupid? The door opened and the detective entered. It was obviously her imagination, but somehow he looked different. She noted for the first time that he was extremely muscular through the shoulders and arms. He was stocky; his bull-neck and legs looked as if they belonged on a football fullback. He appeared much cleaner… more acceptable as a male, she thought. The only thing that hadn’t changed was that mammoth cyclopean penis that bobbed and throbbed with each beat of his pulse.

He stood in the middle of the room, feet spread apart, and hands on hips. “Well?” he asked.

She took one deep shuddering breath and then stood. “Let’s get over with this as fast as possible,” she said. “Which picture do you want to take first?”

“I’ve focused on the end of the bed.” He motioned where she was to be. Sylvia moved next to the camera. She was suddenly very aware of the odor of after-shave lotion; it was her husband’s yet it seemed to have more vigor… seemed more feral… than when Bruce used it. Unaccountably, her knees were beginning to feel rubbery.

Shelton made an adjustment on the camera then unfastened the remote cable from the leg of the tripod. He turned to her. “Sit here on the edge of the bed.”

“You want me to sit?” Sylvia repeated idiotically.

He smiled; she noticed his lips… they looked strong, too. “Yes, sit. Because if you want to have a photograph taken of someone eating your pussy, it has to be that way.”

Sylvia recoiled at his crude obscenity. “Watch your language, Mister Shelton. You aren’t with a street whore now.”

“I beg your pardon,” he said sarcastically, and put one strong hand on her shoulder and pushed her naked buttocks down to the bedspread.

Sylvia tried to regain command of the situation. She watched as he took the long wire cable from the camera and put it at the foot of the bed. Then, without warning, he knelt down between her ankles. She was incapable of movement, feeling almost like a hypnotized bird watching the snake approach. Only then did her mind begin shouting storm warnings at her, but she ignored them and forced herself to continue.

Shelton’s lascivious eyes feasted on the soft golden triangle of pubic hair. Almost reverently, he put his strong capable hands on her knees and forced them apart. He kissed her inner thigh, and felt the woman shudder.

“Just take the photographs,” Sylvia said, feeling the skin tingling where his hot lips had touched.

“This has to be done properly, or it won’t look real,” he said.

“Oh, very well,” Sylvia answered impatiently, “but do let’s get it over with.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Shelton replied, suppressing a smile.

“When will you take the picture?”

“I’m taking them as I go along; I’ve already taken one.”

Sylvia felt his hot lips on her other thigh, together with the quivering heat of his tongue tracing a wicked galvanism against her naked skin. He spread her legs even further apart and raised her knees a bit by placing her feet on top of his thighs. Through her toes, she could feel his rock hard penis and the bristly hairs of his pelvis. She tried to remove her foot, but he merely grasped her ankle and moved it up until the toes were actually resting on the pulsating flesh of his penis itself.

“Leave it there,” he ordered. “This has to look right, otherwise you’re wasting your time.”

Sylvia closed her eyes in disgust, only to snap them open a second later when his finger tentatively touched her vulva; she jumped as though she had been touched with an electric cattle prod.

Shelton slithered forward, down toward the wide beautiful lips of her cunt. He used his thumbs to peel them back and saw the inviting red cavern of soft, sensitive flesh open to him. God, never in his wildest imaginations had there ever been anything quite as luscious as that sight before him. It was a temple… homage must be paid to it and its unknown gods.

Sylvia was aware of his sudden indrawn breath which sounded almost as if it were an exclamation. She wished he would hurry up and get the horribly repugnant act over with. She could feel his hands gently massaging her inner thighs as he spread her legs wider to a point where she was almost incapable of resisting, should she decide suddenly to change her mind. Then a jolt shot through her as his thumbs pressed against the vulva and gently parted the tingling hair-lined lips. He slithered forward once again, his head abruptly bowed, and his hot hungry mouth had fastened on her gently pulsating clitoris.

“Ahhhhh… no!” she said loudly, knowing now the danger she was subjecting herself to, and struggling to sit upright. “Don’t do that… I’ve changed my mind!”

If he heard her, he paid no heed. His mouth now had begun a gentle sucking motion on her outer lips, sucking them in and out, in rhythm with the flickering of his tongue on her clitoris.

“Stop it,” she screamed. “I don’t want to do this.” Sylvia could feel every horrible thing he was doing; his hands were massaging her buttocks and inner thighs. His lips… now hot and eager… were caressing, kissing and sucking her vulva. Sparks of unwanted delight were arching throughout the sensitive nerve ends between her open thighs. Then, without warning, his tongue… hot and quivering with a life all its own… shot like a steelhead trout into the warm cavern of her vaginal slit. Down his trembling tongue went, even deeper, until it was lodged like a small quivering penis fully inside.

“Gaaaaahhhh. Please no.” She writhed helplessly beneath him. “No you can’t do it. I don’t want you to anymore. Don’t. It’s horrible. Please… please… oh, pulllll… eeezzz.”

The last was said even as her abdomen, without volition, rose eagerly to meet his voracious mouth.

Shelton grinned to himself Now he had the bitch going. She had seemed too goddamned glacierlike, such a smart ass… and now, within two minutes of scouring her cunt, she was begging for it… even if she didn’t realize she was begging.

He pulled his mouth away and was delighted to hear her low moan of disappointment. He thought: I’m really going to turn her on now. And he laughed to himself, knowing she was going to be a very hot little piece before he got through with her. He decided to play her along… “I think,” he said seriously, “we’d better try that shot again; I’m not sure we got the photograph.” She attempted to sit upright, but his strong arms kept her pressed back against the bed… with her knees and thighs spread lewdly apart. “No,” she said, trying to gain control of her runaway emotions. “Please. No more. Not even my husband has done this before. Please…”

Shelton tweaked her clitoris, and she jumped as though he had stuck a needle into her buttocks. “Your husband ate the pussy of that little secretary of his… it’s only fair that you should get some of it, too. Besides… remember the photographs.” And so saying, he bent his head forward again, where his eyes feasted hungrily on the ripe red lips of her vagina, framed so beautifully with the soft blond pubic hair. From her engorged clitoris, one droplet of her seeping vaginal juice glistened in the light; to Shelton it looked as though it were honey oozing from one inflamed petite rosebud. His voice was almost hoarse with desire when he said, “We’d better take another photograph, just to make sure we got it.”

Sylvia moaned in shame… feeling her own body betraying her… as his tongue slowly and deliberately licked the soft golden curls of pubic hair aside to expose the cavern leading to her innermost femaledom. He breathed against her clitoris, and even the expulsion of his hot breath sent tingles of ecstasy throughout her entire abdominal area. Her body jerked automatically as once again the quivering tongue returned to her vaginal opening. This time he was licking… like a thirsty dog lapping up sweet life-giving water… licking from clitoris to anus… running the gauntlet of uncontrollable desire to horrifying shame. A groan bubbled out of her lips, and she once more made an effort to escape him… knowing now that she was within seconds of losing all control.

“Please… Oh, God… please stop… pullll-eeezzz.”.

His long, hot probing tongue suddenly entered full-length into her cunt, and she screamed, “Ahhhhh…” Saliva bubbled at the corners of her laxly opened mouth, and her head tossed back and forth on the blue satin covers of the king-sized bed. She wailed in desperate longing and passion as his tongue curled around her clitoris and his lips made loud sucking noises at her pulsating vulva. “Stop… “It was said weakly, the last gasp of her dying decency. She felt his head shake negatively… and the shaking motion, the feel of his scraping beard against her inner thighs, was enough to cause the flood waters of her passion to suddenly break the levees that had held them in abeyance for all her life.

Her mind was on fire with a hundred thousand different sensations and thoughts… thoughts screaming and bumping against each other as though they were maddened animals crowded in one small cage. The unwanted jolts of pleasure were taking precedence over all other feelings. It was happening to her! It couldn’t be true! She was being tongue fucked and eaten… yes, eaten alive. She could feel his teeth devouring her down there… and nothing, absolutely nothing in her entire life had ever felt so delicious before.

Shelton was forced to slip his hands under her buttocks when her wildly squirming pelvis kept slipping out of his mouth. He massaged the soft, resilient cheeks of her ass as though he were kneading bread dough, then slipped one finger down the crevice between her buttocks and found the tiny quivering ring that would open her rectum. She jerked upward when the finger began making its invasion, but the upward movement of her body only drove his tongue deeper into her vaginal well. She cried out aloud, but her words were unintelligible. With one sudden almost vicious movement, Shelton’s finger wormed into the tight cringing anus going in as far as the middle knuckle.

“Gaaaaagggh… ohhhhhhh,” she groaned. “Stop!” His only answer was to make his tongue flicker like summer lightning across her clitoris. He began moving his finger in and out of the squirming rectum.

Sylvia knew she had gone insane… there was nothing rational about what she was doing. Nothing so perverted, or so lewd as this had ever happened in her entire life. Bruce had wanted to make love to her this way in the beginning, but she had refused knowing how dirty it was. She had been horribly disappointed and a little frightened, when Bruce had suggested it a second and a third time. And the third time she had screamed at him that he should see a psychiatrist, for it was obvious he was sick to want to do something as perverted as that to her. And now, she was letting a perfect stranger do this to her body. She knew her expression must be the same as that on her husband’s new secretary’s face; lustful, perverse, demented!… And she didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore except that delicious tongue bringing her to what she knew was going to be unsuspected peaks of climax; his tongue was a passport to a land of wild uninhibited passion and pleasure never before entered by her body.

She was only vaguely aware when Shelton, without removing his mouth, drew her legs up and around his neck. Sylvia’s buttocks spasmed beneath his touch, and she cried out deliriously when a second finger joined the first in her rectum. When they were pulled out, she groaned in disappointment until, abruptly, she felt his tongue leave her vagina and seek out the now slightly stretched little cavern. She actually screamed in rapture as his tongue flickered sensuously against the anal lips and then pushed its way in. The hedonistic pleasure was like a runaway forest fire; she could feel it roaring up the canyons until suddenly, without warning, it crowned in one raging inferno of lust.

“Don’t… do… that…” she cried, giving lie to her words by spreading her legs further apart and lifting her loins so he could get in deeper. The sound of her own voice brought tears to her eyes, for she realized that this was total degradation. For the first time in her life she had lost control of her traitorous body. Oh, God, she’d have orgasms sometimes… from her husband, but even they had been controlled. Nothing though… nothing ever… like this wildly plunging tongue that aroused her to the point of complete subservience. And finally, she fell back no longer fighting anything he did to her… made completely helpless by her own lust-incited body.

Shelton changed tactics as he suddenly felt the fight go out of her. He began licking again… knowing, even if she didn’t… that her clutching and clenching pussy was getting close to a gigantic orgasm. He licked on and on… moving from clitoris to anus… deliberately touching at every spot where he knew there was a nerve ending.

Sylvia lay there feeling pleasure wash over her like a warm roaring tide, and her woman’s body began crying out for fulfillment. She wondered if it were possible to reach a climax this way, she presumed so, for reportedly this was the way lesbians brought pleasure to each other at times. She was barely conscious of her wildly squirming hips that swiveled as though on ball bearings, grinding her hungrily clasping vagina harder and harder up into his eager face.

And then she felt it. She knew it was coming… that the gate to the wild, untamed land so long denied her were swinging open. She had no idea what it would be like in that other country; she merely waited as the sight unfolded. Now, with Shelton’s fevered mouth clamped on her tingling clitoris, she began experiencing the first flush of the overpowering climax. Her vaginal walls began automatically squeezing, her cervix dipped and rose in time to music only it could hear, her clitoris shorted out in a blaze of her fiery sparks, and her rectum clenched and unclenched so rapidly that it could have sucked up water like a vacuum. Loud mewls of pleasure broke out of her taut lips, and her breasts reddened, mottled, then turned almost magenta as the straining blood pumped into them. Her abdomen whipped back and forth like an insane pile driver, and her hands reached down viciously to shove his face, nose, tongue, teeth, eyebrows, head and all… deep inside her voraciously churning loins.

She was there! She was there! “Ahhhhh? Aaahhhhhhh. Ohhhhh… Aiiiiieeeeeeeee, I’m cumming… I’m cummm… eeee iiinnng!” And then she was jerking helplessly against his face, her body pumping up and down in wild and uncontrolled abandon as the cataclysmic orgasm ripped like a powerful earthquake through her entire being. She was only vaguely aware of his hands groping and reaching and teasing her breasts and clitoris and rectum while his tongue continued its machinations at the desperately throbbing entrance to her very soul.