The Wife's Young Lover

CHAPTER TWO

Well, she had done it. She had finally done it.

Marlene had thought and dreamed about seducing a young boy for so long that it hardly seemed possible that she had really gone through with it. She ran her tongue across her lower lip – as if to taste the proof of her sin.

Now, driving home, she felt ashamed, embarrassed and filled with regret. She had resisted the urge in the past and now that she had succumbed she wished that she hadn't. She felt wicked and depraved.

But despite that, she could not deny the fact that she had simply adored sucking on his splendid young cock and swallowing the abundant cream of his potency when he had poured it into her mouth. Even as she regretted having done it, she wondered if it was a thing that she would ever do again. Would she be satisfied now that she had milked a boy's cock – or would the treat simply make her long for young cock all the more?

God! If her husband ever found out! But there was no way he would ever find out. Marlene was sure as hell not going to tell him. Confession would do her no good. It was a thing she'd simply had to do and she'd done it. Now she was worried about the future.

She might get into the habit. Maybe young dicks were habit-forming, addictive – she might need another dose of teenage prick like a junky needs drugs.

As she drove home her pussy was smoldering like a glowing ember between her slick thighs.

Should she have fucked the boy, instead of sucking him off. Or both, maybe. A good fuck would have satisfied her hot cunt, no doubt of that – but the moment she had seen the good looking shoeshine boy, she had been filled with a raging desire to take his load in her mouth. After she had milked him, the shame and remorse had come upon her so quickly that there had been no thought of getting her own pussy taken care of.

Well, she could always give herself a hand job when she got home, she figured, or wait for, her husband to get home and fuck her. While she thought about the youth, she felt both guilty and stimulated at the same time. It would be wicked to pretend that her husband was a teenage boy – but thrilling, too.

She stopped for a traffic light.

While she waited, she ran her fingertips up the inside of her slick thigh and then brushed them lightly over her naked steaming snatch. Her cunt was already open and creamy. The moment, she touched it, it began to sizzle.

God, I'm depraved, she thought.

But she wasn't at all sure that she didn't feel a bit proud of her depravity.

Marlene Metcalf and her husband, Charles, lived in the suburbs. They had been married for seven years and they were quite happy together. Marlene was twenty-eight. Charles was thirty. She had never cheated on him before, and she didn't think that he had ever been unfaithful to her, either.

But then there had come that compelling desire to seduce a young boy. It had begun mildly enough, as just another masturbation fantasy, along with certain other ones – a handsome film star, a lesbian encounter, a gang-bang – things she had never done but found exciting to contemplate while playing with her pussy. But the fantasy about a young man soon drove all the other away. It became compelling; Marlene found herself fingerfucking herself twice a day, thinking of young cock as she did so.

She never imagined what the boy would look like – not his features, that is. In her fantasy his face was blank. But he was young and slim and had a big prick and he was hot for her – just like Billy Wilson.

Only vaguely had Marlene speculated upon the reasons for her strange fixation. She was not an introspective sort of woman and she did not look for deep meanings behind, her behavior or seek some trauma in her youth as a cause. She thought that anyone who went to a psychiatrist was crazy – and that he went because he was crazy, but that he was crazy to go – and she took Freud and his ilk with a grain of salt.

She wanted to suck off a young boy simply because it was such a thrilling thing to do, and she looked for no motivation or justification beyond that simplicity.

But she did know what had pushed her to actually doing it today, instead of merely thinking about it while she played with her cunt.

She had been inspired by the boy next door.

Mike Parker was a good-looking athletic young fellow. Marlene often saw him in his back yard, which was next to her own and, quite naturally, she often used Mike as a part of her inspirational fantasies. She had never intended to seduce him, certainly, although she would have liked to. But it would be far too dangerous to start anything with the kid next door. If his parents ever found out. Well, it simply wasn't viable. Sneaking off to the slums and paying a gutter kid to feed her some dick was bad enough – but it was safe.

That morning, Mike had knocked on her back door.

Marlene hadn't been dressed yet and when she heard the knock she looked out the window, wondering who on earth could be calling so early.

When she saw Mike standing there, her cunt started to steam and flood automatically.

Did she dare answer the door naked?

No, she mustn't. But she could wear her sexy, transparent negligee. The idea thrilled her to the core. She couldn't do anything – not with Mike – but she could at least have the pleasure of giving him a good look at her lush body and watching how he reacted. That was safe enough – especially if she acted as if she didn't realize how much of her body was on display, as if she figured Mike was too young to be interested.

She quickly slipped into her filmy robe and went to the door, opening it and looking surprised – as if she hadn't known who was there.

Mike's eyes bulged out.

Marlene pretended not to notice.

The flimsy negligee clung to her curves. Her big nipples were outlined, pushing out. She had secured the garment by a belt at the midriff, allowing it to gape open at the top so that her cleavage showed and to drift apart at the bottom when she moved her thigh forward.

"Why, hello, Mike," she said.

"Errr… ahhh… our telephone has gone on the blink and I wondered if I might use your phone, Mrs. Metcalf?"

His eyes were moving all over her, and he was blushing bright red. His reaction delighted Marlene.

"Of course," she said.

She showed him into the front room, walking ahead of him and undulating her hips. As the boy dialed the phone, she sat on the couch, her pose casual. She moved her legs apart as if by accident.

Mike was watching her and pretending not to be watching her.

She stretched. She picked up a magazine and began to glance at it, so that Mike was able to stare openly at her, without having his interest noticed. And then, feeling absolutely wicked, Marlene pretended to scratch her leg and, in the process, managed to draw the folds of her negligee apart so that Mike could see her naked pussy.

Although she was carefully avoiding his eyes, she could feel his vision burning into her crotch. It was almost as if his gaze had tactile properties, as if her were caressing her with his hot eyes.

Marlene almost creamed.

Mike's voice was rasping as he spoke into the phone. Marlene sneaked a glance over the top of the magazine and smiled when she saw the huge bulge in the front of his trousers.

He wanted to fuck her! She was thrilled. If only he had been a stranger, a delivery boy or someone like that – even if he lived down the street, instead of right next door.

In fact, if Mike had suggested it, Marlene would have fucked him, danger be damned. But Mike had no idea that she was lusting for him. He assumed that she had displayed her pussy by accident and that she would have been outraged if he tried to seduce her. He made his call a brief one. He felt that he had to get out of there before she noticed his hard-on – or before he fainted from the extent of his arousal.

He thanked her for the use of the phone. Marlene walked to the door with him, managing to brush her tit against his arm as she showed him out.

Mike dashed home and jerked off vigorously.

But Marlene didn't masturbate, strangely enough.

She started to. She sat on the couch, in the same position in which she'd let him look at her cunt, and began to rub and caress herself, but she stopped before she reached an orgasm. She was too damn hot to settle for a hand job.

Ht for young cock!

But where in hell could she get some?

She considered several possibilities. She might send herself a telegram and seduce the boy who delivered it, or wander over to the athletic field and try her luck, or go, to the drugstore where young men hung out – but none of those ideas appealed to her very much.

Then she got the brilliant idea that she might drive into the city and find some boy in the slums, someone who hat no idea who she was or where she lived so that there could be – no possible danger of getting found out.

The moment she thought of that, she was determined to do it. It was shameful, certainly, but Marlene was far too aroused to worry about that until afterwards.

And so it was that, inspired by having let Mike Parker see her cunt, Marlene had ventured into the seamy downtown streets and found Billy Wilson.

Now she was hotter than ever.

She had one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand on her smoldering cunt as she drove home. I must be crazy, she thought. Why did I do that terrible thing? Well, I wanted to is why. But why in hell did I suck him off instead of letting him fuck me? Now I've committed a wicked sin – and I'm still horny for more.

She was almost tempted to drive right back to the corner of Green and Broad and ask Billy to give her some more dick.

But she resisted the urge.

She drove into her garage and sat in the car for a few minutes, playing with her cunt with both hands. It felt so good that she didn't want to come, to end it too soon, and each time she felt the thrill starting to approach the crest she took her hands away and let her pussy cool down a bit, then started stroking it all over again.

Her crotch was so sodden that she was soaking the leather seat with cuntjuice.

She decided to go into the house and finish the hand-job in the bedroom, in comfort. When she slid out of the car, her creamy snatch squished between her legs. She felt as if her crotch were combustible, as if tongues of flame might start licking down her thighs and up her belly.

Marlene was astounded at the extent of the hot lust that was lashing through her loins. It had always made her hot to fantasize about seducing young men, but now that she had actually done it, she found that the memory was far more stimulating than the pure fantasy had been. How long was this going to last? she wondered, half-fearful of such consuming passion. Was she going to be racked by desire day after day, now that she had taken the initial step into depravity?

The thought left her of two minds: on the one hand, she enjoyed feeling sexually aroused and subsequently relieving herself; on the other hand, she liked to have some say in the matter, some control, so that it was up to her to determine when she would allow her passion to take fire, consciously deciding to think about young prick and get all worked up as a prelude to a leisurely hand-job – a coldblooded approach to a hot-blooded condition. Now she was afraid that she was going to be hot all the time – or at totally unexpected times – so that her pussy would start creaming inconveniently, when there was nothing that she could do to cool it off.

Well, she would think about that possibility later. At the moment, her aroused condition was convenient and she could take advantage of it without interruption.

She moved down the covered passage from the garage to the house, pausing halfway along the promenade to raise her skirt and give her foaming twat a few strokes. The passage entered into the kitchen, and she passed through into the front room, where earlier that day she had managed to accidentally let Mike Parker get a look at her cunt.

That memory was so pleasant that the oversexed woman decided to complete her self-satisfaction there instead of the bedroom, in which only her husband had ever looked at her cunt. She loved her husband and regretted the dark passions that had led her to cuckold him – but Charles was an adult, a handsome man with a hairy chest and a mature bearing. Love had nothing to do with it. It was pure lust and it revolved around smooth-skinned young virgin boys with bursting dicks desperate with puberty.

Marlene stood beside the couch, and drew her dress off so that she was naked. Then she sat on the couch – in the exact same position she had assumed when Mike Parker had been watching hex from the telephone stand.

She pretended that he was there now.

Her mind, weaved a fantasy: she imagined that Mike had come in to use the phone and that, for some reason, she had not known that he was in the room – or more precisely, he had not known that she was aware of his presence.

After all, no one could blame her for exciting the boy if it were strictly accidental, could they? A woman was entitled to play with here pussy in private. If a horny lad happened to see what she was doing, it was simply a mistake.

With the background thus fixed in her mind, Marlene began to masturbate with utter happiness.

She stroked her cuntlips until those enflamed flaps had unfurled like the petals of a fleshy pink blossom, opening to the morning sun, streaked with creamy dew.

She rubbed her stiff tingling clit and shuddered as the spasms of sensation ran like electricity through her belly and down her widely spread thighs.

She pushed her middle finger up her cunt to the knuckle and stirred it about, and her cunt sucked on the slender digit and her thumb caressed her clit. She was pretending that her finger was Mike Parker's cock. But one finger was not enough for that pretense. She had noticed how large the lump in his pants was when he'd seen her cunt, and she felt happily convinced that the boy had a sizable prick.

And she knew perfectly well that Billy Wilson had a huge pecker, so she began to think about him, as well, so that both boys became united in her mind – became the prototype youth for which she lusted – slim, hairless, innocent and equipped with a gigantic cock. It didn't matter that the two boys did not look alike. They blended admirably into a single entity in her thoughts.

She added a second finger, then a third and, finally, began to push all four fingers in and out of her juicy cunt, holding them bunched together so that they were just about the right breadth to simulate a cock.

After a few moments, she drew them out and brought them to her mouth. Her fingers were streaked with cunt-cream. Marlene began fucking her mouth with her hand, imagining that her fingers were a cock and that the slippery cuntjuice that soaked them was hot jism.

While she fed herself on this cock substitute, she rubbed her cunt with her other hand. When that was frothy with cunt-oil, she switched hands. The taste of Billy's cum was, still lingering in her mouth, and it seemed to heat up again and blend very nicely with the slightly different flavor of her steaming pussy nectar.

By this time her crotch was glowing.

Her mind seemed to be melting just like her cunt. The fabric of her thoughts and imagination broke down and the images she was using to arouse herself flowed out of shape like hot wax. The oversexed woman could no longer concentrate on fantasy. She had become a creature of blind thoughtless need now, confined to the physical.

She began to masturbate with both hands, abandoning her mouth and using both hands on her cunt. She spread her cunt lips open with one hand, thumbing her clitoris as well while she steadily finger-fucked her wanton pussy with the other hand, still using all four fingers.

Thick ribbons of cuntjuice poured from her slot and ran down her crotch and seeped into the tight crack of her ass. The cushions were soaked under her as she thrashed about, grinding her hips and humping her belly up and down and extending her legs out as she arched her back.

Her orgasm swept her up like the hand of a giant, tossing her into a whirlpool of sensation. She whimpered and moaned and gasped. She felt as if her skeleton were coming disjointed, her blood boiling, her whole being melting into the hot flow of her flooding cunt.

She cried out aloud as the come lashed her. She hovered at the height of sensation, her cunt going off like a machine gun in a series of orgasms that came so fast, one upon the other, that they seemed to be one prolonged wave of ecstasy that coursed through her forever.

At last, it ended.

She continued to caress her cunt, working out the terminal spasms of her passion, but her hands slowed gradually and then stopped moving. She held her drained cunt cupped in both hands, as if jealously possessing it.

A contented smile turned her mouth up at the corners and her eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

Never had she enjoyed herself more, she realized. Thee was a lot to be said for sucking off a precious young pecker and letting her own pussy stew in its own juices for a little while. It made the eventual climax dynamic.

After a while she got up, weak-kneed. She stood there naked for a moment, as if uncertain whether her loins were truly satiated or might require another hand-job before she got dressed. But she was drained – for the moment.

That was just as well, she knew. It would hardly be seemly if she had reached a stage when she had to finger-fuck herself for hours on end. She put her dress on and went out to make some coffee. She didn't put any underwear on. Her husband would be home soon and she felt that she ought to give him a nice fuck – as if to make up for having cuckolded him by being attentive.

She wondered if she would be compelled to ever do a wicked thing like that again.

When the coffee started to percolate, the amber fluid spurting out of the basket reminded her very much of a cock ejaculating. She smiled wanly at her capacity for sexual imagery. She hoped that she wouldn't have to cheat on Charles again.

But she wouldn't have bet on it.