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Life on Bedlow Street

© Knave of Hearts 2003

Chapter 1

It was early on Tuesday, the 18th of May 1925. The small coastal town of Kingsport, Virginia was still waking up. The spring morning's cool, bright sun shone through the window of a white clapboard house on Bedlow Street. A pool of sunlight illuminated a young man lying on his bed. His fist was a blur of motion along the length of his cock. His body tensed, the tendons on his neck standing out like halyards. 

His eyes were screwed shut in pleasure. In his mind, Kelly Parker knelt in front of him in her cheerleader uniform. Her red lips made a perfect ring over his throbbing manhood and her blonde ponytail bobbed back and forth as she swallowed his shaft over and over again. She removed his cock head from her mouth and licked its plum colored tip like an ice cream cone. "I can't wait for you to make me a woman," she said in his dream, her voice husky with pent up lust. 

His thin hips jerked toward the ceiling and thick white cream spewed from his prick. Spent, he groaned and rolled onto his side, holding his cock so that his seed didn't drip onto the bedspread. He reached over to his nightstand for a tissue and wiped his cock clean, just like he did every morning. He normally relieved himself before school, something he was sure all 15-year-old males did.

"Bud. BUD!! Come down for breakfast or you'll be late for school."

Bud Lostridge wiped cum off his hand and pulled his trousers on. He was almost out of the room when he remembered the book he'd borrowed from his buddy, Thorny. Thorny called it a "blue book" and said that his dad had bought it at McPherson's Dime Store "behind the news counter." They'd spent a few afternoons in Bud's old treehouse, unselfconsciously pulling at their peckers while they studied the grainy pictures of plump women and skinny men in strange positions. Bud took a last look at the picture book and stuffed it into his desk drawer before running out of the room.

His mother stood at the foot of the stairs. Her green eyes sparkled, the way they always did when she was starting to get mad. Bud thundered down the stairs and she stepped aside, like a matador in the corrida. As usual, her auburn hair was perfectly arranged and the pleats of her dress razor sharp. 

"Robert Jefferson Lostridge Junior, you're going to be late," she said as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. She stuffed an apple into his hand as he ran out the front door.

"Rebecca," Harriet Lostridge shifted her attention to her 18-year-old daughter. "Stop primping and go to school."

"Mother," Rebecca whined. The 18-year-old adjusted the way the large letterman's sweater hung around her neck one final time. Her starched white blouse showed off her large breasts admirably. 

"She's got my figure," Harriet thought, "All boobs and curves. Not like these flapper girls that are all the rage."

"Lance will be here soon. I won't be late," Rebecca said.

Before Harriet could respond, her husband trotted down the stairs. "Gotta run," he sang and stuffed his hat on to his head. Harriet slowed him down long enough to allow her to straighten his tie and give him a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm going over to the diner for lunch with Scooter, so tell Millie not to bother making anything for me," he said as he dashed through the front door.

He'll come home smelling like cigar smoke and beer in other words, Harriet thought as RJ ran down the porch steps toward the street. Over RJ's shoulder she saw a small Model T rattle up to the curb. "Becca, Lance is here."

Rebecca skipped down the front walk as her tall, muscular, boyfriend held the gate open for her. "Bye, Mom," she called from the car as Lance pulled away in a cloud of smoke. Harriet caught herself staring at her daughter's boyfriend. Rebecca called him a dreamboat and, looking at the six foot tall, blonde, blue eyed Lance, Harriet had to agree.

With everyone on their way to start a new day, the house still for the moment, Harriet paused to look at her reflection, turning to see herself from all angles. "Still a good looking ol' broad," she murmured to herself. She had retained her figure despite being 37 years old and having had two children. She was particularly proud of her breasts, the large globes having not lost their battle with gravity. RJ used to love to play with them, she remembered, not that he's shown a lot of interest in the last few years.

She retreated down the hallway to the kitchen. A petite black woman stood over the sink doing the dishes. Harriet poured herself a cup of coffee and glanced at the front page of the newspaper.

"Morning, Millie."

"Mawnin, Miz Harriet," the colored girl said. "I suppose Mistah RJ will be lunching down to the diner?"

Harriet picked up her purse and checked her reflection in the mirror of her compact case. "Yes, and I will be at the McPherson's until about two." She picked up her hat and gloves, checking her reflection one last time. "Just start the roast as usual. We'll have dinner at five thirty." 

Millie didn't look up from her sink as Harriet left the house. She just smiled to herself and put a soapy dish under the rinse water. Ever since Prohibition had started, Mister RJ had gone to Dennehy's Diner for a beer and a whore on Tuesday and Miss Harriet had gone to play mah-jongg and have a cocktail with the ladies. Millie shook her head and dried her hands.

After almost a decade of washing, cooking, and cleaning, she knew the family's routine like the back of her hand. The Lostridge family was as regular as clock work. Regular. Right down to Mister RJ's night to give pretty Miss Harriet her weekly ration of loving. Bed sheets never lie, she thought.

Even though she'd just turned 20, she'd been the Lostridges' maid for almost 10 years. Her momma had been the Lostridge family cook and had brought her into the house as a nursery maid and playmate for Bud. Even though she was only 5 years older than the boy, she'd come to the house every day except Sunday and helped Harriet with the housework and the children. Since her momma had passed away of influenza right after the war, Millie had been cook and maid for the Lostridges. The work wasn't too hard and the Lostridge house was better than working in a factory.

Chapter 2

RJ got to his office in downtown Kingsport in record time. He checked his watch. The Number 15 bus hadn't arrived at the stop yet. He watched the street in the reflection of the bank's front window. He gave his reflection his best Douglas Fairbanks look and told himself that he still looked good for a middle-aged bank manager. 

Casually scanning the area, he sidled over to the newsstand and pretended to browse the stall for magazines. His hands clenched and unclenched nervously. He was about to commit adultery and, in a small Southern town things like that had to be done discreetly. He'd been watching her for weeks, carefully sizing her up. While planning his assault on young Elsa Flint's virtue, he had rationalized the whole affair to himself. He needed an outlet outside of his home, a means to vent his wilder lusts without shaming himself in front of his wife. Other men had mistresses. Even he'd done it before. Taking one last look at the pulp serials, he told himself that he'd have some fun with this new girl for a few months and then break it off. No one would know and no one would get hurt.

The bus arrived and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the person he was waiting for. Tall and lean, Elsa Flint was easy to spot descending from the bus, and RJ quietly fell into step behind her as she entered the building. RJ didn't look at Elsa, although he used the polished brass elevator door to admire the way her dress flowed over her breasts and hips and the green color accentuated her bobbed red hair. He found himself comparing Elsa's small breasts to his wife Harriet's pillowy bosom. Elsa's hips were slimmer as well but, RJ opined, there was cushion on the 20-year-old girl.

The elevator's brass door opened and RJ calmly stood at the back of the car. People filed in and turned around, staring at the dial at the top of the door as its hand moved from number to number. RJ stood still, moving his hand slowly as if reaching for his pocket. When his palm touched his jacket, it turned and reached sideways. RJ's fingertips brushed against the skirt of Elsa's cotton dress. She stiffened but didn't cry out or try to remove his hand. Encouraged, he cupped his hand, pressed his palm against her firm little bottom, and gave it a light squeeze. Still, she didn't make a sound or try to shuffle away from his contact.

The door opened to RJ's floor. "Excuse me," he said to the man in front of him, "my floor." Elsa's hip contacted his as they both tried to squeeze out of the elevator's door. "Good morning, Miss Flint," he said with a smirk, noting the light flush on her neck.

-=)0(=-

Although the high school was only six or seven blocks from her house, Rebecca preferred to ride with her boyfriend Lance. Attracted by his car, his even white smile, and his thick meaty arms, Rebecca loved the way the other kids looked at her enviously when she was with him. She was the stunningly beautiful captain of the cheerleading squad. He was the gorgeously handsome varsity pitcher. The Student Body President and the Homecoming Queen. They were the perfect couple, she thought. They'd even been voted "Most Likely to Succeed."

Lance shot her a crooked grin and dropped his hand from the gear shift to her knee. This had also become part of their routine. He'd drive her to school, park behind the hedge that surrounded the football practice field, and enjoy a brief fondling session before school started. Every day, his hand got a little higher up her thigh or little deeper into her blouse.

Today he trailed his hand up to her knee. His fingertip contacted the smooth flesh under the hem of her school uniform, but she quickly trapped his hand in hers.

"Lance! Stop it. You'll wrinkle my dress." He didn't move his hand, his strength easily defeating her. Rebecca stuck out her bottom lip in a fake pout. "We can meet at McPherson's soda counter after school and you can apologize."

He laughed. "Yeah, Babe. Whatever you say." Shifting his grip to her wrist, he pulled her across the bench seat and ground her palm against his groin. Rebecca gasped as she felt the thick sausage-like member under his woolen trousers. "But I'm going to introduce you to this one day soon. I've got big plans for you after the Graduation Week Dance."

Rebecca twisted her hand free and pushed the Model T's door open. Clutching her books to her chest, her shoes made staccato sounds against the sidewalk as she walked quickly toward the school building. She could feel Lance's eyes follow her but she didn't dare look back as she ducked around the corner of the hedge.

-=)0(=-

Millie dropped her laundry basket on the floor and quickly pulled the blanket off Bud's bed. Automatically reaching to straighten the sheet, Millie laughed when she saw a small collection of yellowish stains in the middle of the bed. Raising the sheet to her face, she smelled Bud's boy-cum. The stains were fresh and his seed smelled sharp and tangy. 

The thought of Bud playing with himself reminded Millie why she was hurrying through her morning chores. Even though she didn't normally do the sheets on Tuesday, Millie threw clean sheets on the bed and straightened the blanket. Today was grocery day and she wanted to be done with the bedrooms before the vegetables got delivered.

-=)0(=-

RJ had watched Elsa all morning through his office's glass window. Seeing her start to deliver the morning mail, he pulled the window shade down and cracked the door. When Elsa's soft knock came, RJ did his best to look as if he were engrossed in the papers on his desk.

"Why come in. Elsa, isn't it?" 

"Yes, sir." 

RJ stood and moved to the door, holding it open to let the girl enter the small office. Elsa didn't meet his eyes as she moved straight for the desk. He quietly closed it behind her and leaned against it, watching her skirt pull taut against her rear end as she collected the contents of his out tray.

He slid behind her. She stood quickly and bumped against his chest. RJ's hands cradled her waist to steady her but didn't move. He took a deep breath of her perfume and shifted his hands along her dress's beltline.

"A smart girl like you is too valuable to leave in the admin pool for too long," he whispered into her ear. He brushed his cheek against her hair but she remained stiff and unmoving. "I could be a lot of help to someone looking to move up in the company. Someone looking for a mentor or an ally." 

His hands found the line of buttons that ran down the front of her dress. Elsa stood stock-still, afraid to even breathe. RJ's fingers followed the buttons until he cupped her breasts, thankful that she wore a brassiere rather than an old-fashioned corset.

"Noo," she whispered, but she seemed to lean back against him, thawing under his touch.

Someone knocked on his door and RJ took a quick step away from the trapped office girl. Holding a sheaf of papers to hide his bulging crotch, he called out, "Come in."

RJ sat behind his desk, only half listening to the mundane office matter. He saw Elsa glance furtively at him as she shuffled through the office correspondence. He gave her his most charming grin but she ducked her head and left the office, her heels clacking on the tile.

Just thirty minutes later, RJ strode into Dennehy's Diner and scanned the tables for his friend Scooter. He'd been a friend of Scot McPherson's since they were boys. They had shared everything with each other, played on the same sports teams, and even joined the Army together. Peering into the dim interior, RJ listened for Scooter's braying laugh to give away his position. Hearing his friend at the far end of the counter, RJ walked over and smoothly slid on to a lunch stool.

"How they hanging, Scooter?" RJ's smile was split by his broad grin.

"Low and a little to the left. Haw, haw." He snapped his fingers to get the waitress' attention. "Goldie, bring us some Specials."

The girl shuffled down to their end of the lunch counter, the cigarette she'd tucked behind one ear held back a strand of her brittle, bleached hair. "Anything else?" she arched her eyebrow with a knowing look.

RJ sat back so that Goldie could see his crotch and adjusted his semi-stiff member. He usually enjoyed poking Goldie in the storeroom before returning to work, but today RJ wanted to get back to the office and continue his conversation with Miss Flint. "I'll just have a cigar today," he said, opting for a quick blowjob instead.

Goldie cocked her hands on her bony hips and pulled her shoulders back to emphasize her small breasts. "So the pie's not to your liking anymore?" She scribbled on her order pad. "And how 'bout you Scooter? You in the mood for a slice of Goldie's pie?"

Scooter brayed again, "Naw, Goldie, not today. I'll have the cigar as well."

Miffed at the loss of income, the waitress walked away muttering but the men had already closed the subject.

"RJ, what's come over you? You're usually the first man into Goldie's panties. Don't tell me that Harriet's keeping you satisfied."

RJ snorted but didn't answer until Goldie, who'd brought two large glasses of home made beer, had left. "Never happen." He took a deep draught of the beer before continuing, "I'm working on a new playmate. A nice little redheaded piece that lives over on Howland Hill."

"I thought you liked them Dago gals up in Hillside."

RJ shrugged. "Looking for something that don't bite the hand that's feeding it. Or the dick that's fucking it, if you know what I mean. This one seems to like a man that'll treat her with a firm hand." 

Scooter shot him a broad wink in reply. "How far have you gone with this theory?"

"A man just knows these things, Scooter. A man just knows."

Goldie served the sandwiches and RJ attacked his lunch, but Scooter was in a talkative mood.

"I thought Harriet had 'bout caught you the last time. You were banging that little brown haired shipping clerk, wasn't it?"

"Anyway," RJ ignored Scooter's jibe and washed a mouthful of lunch down with some beer, burping loudly, "once I get this little fishie on the hook, I'll be set. I'll have her over my desk before the end of the week. Then we can settle into a nice schedule. She's got a little apartment. It'll all be nice and discreet." He took another bite and talked around a mouthful of food. "I might even encourage Harriet to take up her art classes again so as I can have a little evening time of my own."

"Well, my lad," Scooter pushed his plate away and dabbed at mouth with a paper napkin, "you keep up the good work and let your old buddy Scooter know if there's a chance for a party. In the meantime, I'm headed around the corner for a piss and first shot at Goldie's mouth."

-=)0(=-

Harriet left her mah-jongg club early, making the excuse that she had a splitting headache. Lizzie McPherson had been into her second martini before the end of the first game and, as usual, had started talking about sex, her favorite topic. She'd titillate the other ladies with tales of her husband's size or stamina, ending each story with a laugh that sounded like a choking crow.

Harriet actually did have a headache, but whether it was from Lizzie's cackling about the size of Scooter's manhood, she couldn't tell. In short, Harriet was miserable. She had been miserable for a while already, wondering why her husband wasn't as interested or active in their bedroom as Lizzie claimed hers was. Right after Christmas, she'd suspected that RJ might have a mistress but he'd denied it strenuously and she'd had no real proof. The last few months had passed without incident but Harriet still felt uneasy. 

A dull routine invaded their bed. On Tuesday nights, she and RJ would retire early, climb into bed, and turn off the lights. She would roll on to her side and RJ, lying behind her like two spoons in a drawer, would lift her leg and insert himself. After a few moments of silent thrusting and pawing, he'd cum and roll away, leaving her needs unsatisfied and her legs sticky.

Her thoughts kept her occupied as the trolley wound its way through the small town. Stepping off the trolley at the end of Bedlow Street, Harriet could see the grocery store's delivery truck parked on the street. She didn't think that this was unusual and, entering her house as usual, she was about to set her purse on the hallway table when she heard a soft cry from the kitchen. Curious, she tiptoed down the hall, staying as quiet as she could. She heard the sound again and peered around the corner into the kitchen.

The sight of in the kitchen froze Harriet in the doorway. Millie was kneeling in front of one of the largest black men Harriet had ever seen. His huge, hulking body dwarfed the girl as she sucked his cock. She sat back on her heels and took his massive piece of meat out of her mouth for a moment. 

"Tyrone, you got the nicest thang I ever seen. I kin hardly wait to get this big ol' tool inside me."

Millie held his thick penis in both hands. His enormous shaft was as long and thick as a baby's forearm, its tip like a small jet black doorknob. She reverently peeled back his foreskin and applied her mouth to it with vigor. While she licked and sucked the head of his cock, she pumped her tiny fist along his shaft; her other hand cupped and kneaded his balls. Tyrone held Millie's head between his monstrous paws, his eyes tightly closed as her head bobbed over his member.

Harriet, still hidden in the shadows, snuck a hand into her blouse and teased one of her nipples. All she could think of was the last time RJ had made love to her with the lights on. It had been months ago but she remembered it as clearly as if it were yesterday. His cock looked nothing like Tyrone's, of course, being white, circumcised, and not as thick. 

Tyrone's cock looked like it was at least a foot long. It stood out straight from his body, shiny and slick with Millie's spit. Standing up, Millie held it like a handle and pulled Tyrone close to her. 

"Now I'm gonna git me some of this. Right here on this table."

Millie climbed on top of the kitchen table and pulled her knees up to her tits. She held the lips of her pussy open for him and gave a long, deep moan as Tyrone sank the length of his prick inside her in deliberate, gentle pushes. 

Once his hips met hers, Tyrone slowly pulled out. "Oh, Baby, your coozy's so nice," his voice a deep bass growl.

He reversed course and sank his cock back into her buttery depths. "Ah gotta go slow. You're so tight. I'll lose it too soon."

Harriet watched them fuck, her hand tugging at her swollen nipple and her breath becoming ragged. She felt a curious heat grow between her legs. By this time, Tyrone had increased the tempo of his strokes and Millie was thrashing around on the table as he filled her pussy again and again. From her vantage point in the hallway, Harriet watched Tyrone grimace, his hips jerking back and forth.

Millie shouted, "Gahd. Oh my Gahd. Unnhh. Unnhh." She craned her neck and watched her boyfriend's thick black cock plunging in and out of her furry snatch. "Fuck me. Keep on fucking me. Gaaahhhhd damn," she cried out and clamped her legs around his waist.

Harriet's lust churned inside her as she watched her maid screaming in the throes of orgasm. Her knees weak, she stumbled away from the kitchen. Heedless of any noise she might make, she pulled herself up the stairs leaning on the banister rail. Lurching from one side of the hallway to the other, she staggered into her bedroom and collapsed on her bed.

Tyrone, his legs momentarily weak, helped Millie sit up on the table. "I think somebody's home. I heard something right toward the end."

"Nobody's supposed to be home until after lunch. What did you hear?"

"With you carrying on, it wasn't like I could hear hardly anything."

Millie wiped between her legs with a tea towel before hopping off the table. Standing on her toes, she gave Tyrone a quick kiss. 

"You git back to work and I'll go find out what's going on." She gave his still swollen shaft a loving squeeze. "And tell your boss that they done forgot the taters in your delivery. How'm I supposed to make roast beef with all the trimmings if I don't have any taters?"

Smoothing her dress, she walked toward the front door and looked out on to the porch. Seeing nothing, she climbed the stairs toward the bedrooms. Millie moved up the narrow hallway peeking into each bedroom for their visitor. Reaching the end of the hallway, Millie stole a look inside the master bedroom. 

Harriet lay on top of the bedclothes, her dress rumpled in a ball on the floor and her hand buried in her pussy. Millie saw her mistress use her other hand to tug and pinch her red, erect nipples. Harriet's fingers moved in and out of her pussy, palm firmly massaging her erect clitoris. Harriet gasped, her hand clenching one of her firm breasts, and gave a small shudder. Lost in her climax, she rolled on to her side and sighed.

Millie turned and slipped back down the stairs without a sound.

Chapter 3

Back in the office, RJ waited for Elsa Flint to make her afternoon rounds. Her job was to collect the legal documents from the managers' offices twice a day. It was a schedule that RJ hoped to use to his advantage. When she knocked on his door, he leaned back in his chair and called her in. She didn't meet his eyes as she shuffled through the blue covered folders in his out tray.

"Have you thought about my offer?"

Her hands trembled but she nodded slightly.

"Come over here," he invited her behind his desk with a wave of his hand, "I won't hurt you, but we need to make sure we understand what we're going to do for each other."

She stood beside his chair, her hands clasped submissively in front of her. He could sense the turmoil inside her. From watching her for several weeks, he knew that she was ambitious. He just needed to make sure that she'd play along with his little games in return for his help in getting a quick promotion out of the administrative pool.

By the time she left, some twenty minutes later, RJ was sure that he'd read Elsa Flint like a book. She hadn't hesitated when he'd made her hold up her dress and show him her pussy. Standing in his office with her sex on display, she had been goaded by RJ into admitting what she wanted and what she was willing to do in return for his help. 

Her hands shook as she handed over her apartment key. "I'll get it copied and you can get it back before the end of the day," he told her, making clear that her apartment was where they would hold their "counseling sessions."

At his command, Elsa crawled between his knees and took his cock into her mouth. Her efforts were energetic rather than effective and he'd had to slow her down when her teeth scraped his sensitive skin. He promised her that she'd have plenty of time to practice her technique while he worked on getting her promoted to junior associate. 

-=)0(=-

Thorny Thornbush skidded to a halt. Bud cursed his best friend quietly but Thorny was so excited he didn't notice. Furtively, the boys huddled behind a trash dumpster.

"Didja get it?" Thorny poked at the bulge under Bud's shirt.

Bud pulled the quart jar out of his shirt and held it between them. The clear liquid looked like water. 

"Grandpa's Top Grade Corn Squeezin's," Bud pushed at the wax sealing the jar's stopper. "Dad will never miss it from the back shed. I took it from an open box." He tucked the bottle back inside his shirt. "What about you? Did you talk with Goldie?"

"Yep. She'll do us both for one quart. I'll go into the diner and get her. You meet us out back in the alley with the payment."

Both boys quivered with excitement. Thorny, whose real name was Quentin R. Thornberry the Third, had almost been sent to detention when Mrs. Roberts, the librarian, caught him groping his crotch in the book stacks. Even as the boys made their way to Dennehy's Diner, he tugged at his pants, trying to adjust his dick inside the confines of his drawers. The day had come for them to lose their virginity and they knew that they'd remember it forever.

Bud went the appointed place and waited in the alley, nervously clutching the quart jar. Finally, the diner's back door opened and Goldie stepped out into the shadowy alleyway. She wiped her hands on her apron and looked him over. Before he could say anything, Thorny walked quickly into the alley from the street.

The waitress tucked her hair behind her ears. Bud thought she looked tired. Dark circles lay under her eyes, her hair was lank, and she smelled like stale hamburgers.

"So you boys are actually going through with this, huh?"

Bud held up the jar, still gripping it with two hands. Goldie took it from him and popped the lid off with a practiced swipe of her thumb. She took a deep drink but spilled some of the precious liquid when she started coughing. Bud caught the jar before she could drop it and took a sip. The taste of the raw liquor bit his throat and burned a trail down to his stomach.

"Damn," Goldie said as soon as she could catch her breath, "where'd you get this?" She took the jar back greedily, "I'll just save this for later. This popskull is too good to waste in a hurry. Who's first?"

Both boys stared at her in silence. Thorny tugged at his swollen groin and looked back and forth between Bud and Goldie. 

"I'll go. I gotta cum or I'll bust," Thorny said.

Goldie chuckled and set the jar down by the door. Kneeling on a flattened box, she tucked her dress under her apron strings and exposed her thin flanks. 

"All right boys, let's get down to business before the cook comes looking for me. Bud, pull that milk crate over here while Quentin makes himself comfortable behind me."

Bud's cock stood straight and proud from his trousers. Goldie licked her lips and slowly stroked his cock. Her hands felt rough and the feeling wasn't pleasant.

"Mmmm, size must run in the family," she murmured. She had just put the head into her mouth when she pulled back sharply. Swatting at Thorny, she looked over her shoulder at the eager teen, "Hey, get that thing wet before you try and poke it in me."

Thorny spit on his palm and rubbed the lubricant on to his cock. Satisfied that he could be trusted to handle the rest, she turned her attention back to Bud's cock. After a few quick licks along the shaft, Goldie started working over his manhood in a very mechanical way, jacking his shaft as she slavered her tongue over his cock head. At the same time, Thorny had stick his thin pecker into her pussy, rutting frantically for a few moments before grabbing Goldie's hips and growling as he pumped his seed inside her.

Bud's orgasm took a little longer. Goldie's fist rapidly pumped his thick shaft, her cheeks hollowed as she sucked his plum sized knob. Bud reached out without thinking and pulled her head forward, shoving his cock into her mouth. 

"Shhiiiiyyyeett."

Suddenly coming back to his senses, he heard Goldie gagging and let go of her head. The girl sat back on her haunches and used her apron to wipe at the thick rivulets of cream that had escaped her mouth. Checking her wrist watch, she said, "There might be time for you all to switch, but you've got to let me catch my breath and take a drink."

Bud's hands shook as he stood up. He tucked his cock back into his pants. The idea of sticking his dick where Thorny's had just been wasn't very appealing.

"Uhh, that's OK Goldie," he stammered, not wanting to look scared in front of Thorny, "I'll take a rain check if that's all right with you. I gotta get home before my Mom starts wondering why I ain't back from school yet."

Thorny looked down and shuffled his feet. "Bud's right. I should go, too. Can we come back at the same time tomorrow?"

Goldie shook the dust from her dress, pulling her apron to cover the red marks on her knees. Picking the quart jar off the ground, she stopped and blew Bud a kiss. "I'll be here boys. We'll just call today the first round."

As they retrieved their bikes, Bud couldn't stop himself from asking, "So what was it like? You know, inside her."

Thorny appeared to ponder his answer before playfully punching his friend. "Whaddya think? It was great."

"No, really, what was it like?"

"Well. Actually it was kind of like sticking my dick in a hole and stirring it around looking for the sides. Nice, ya understand, but completely different from Rosy and her four sisters."

Coming to the top of Bedlow Street, the boys turned into the alley that ran between the houses and made their way quickly to Bud's back gate.

"Time for this afternoon's second show," Bud said as he slipped the latch open and looked inside to make sure that the coast was clear. 

-=)0(=-

While her brother experimented only a few blocks away with Goldie, Rebecca pushed open the heavy glass door of McPherson's drug store. She strolled past the news rack on her way to the lunch counter. Shooting a dazzling, if condescending, smile at the boy behind the counter, she leaned over the row of bar stools and gave her order.

"Can you get me a Lemon Coke, Stevie? You're a dear."

The other girls batted their eyes as they teased and flirted with Stevie. He knew that they all called him Stevie the Soda Jerk when they thought he couldn't hear, but he accepted their blown kisses and false swoons with a good sense of humor. Once he'd served Rebecca her drink, she glided over to the booth where the other cheerleaders sat and gossiped.

Rebecca and Kelly Palmer sat side by side, talking about the big dance that was coming up. Kelly quietly admitted that she didn't yet have a date for the dance. Instead, she tried to steer the conversation toward what Rebecca and Lance would wear, a topic that set the entire table to chattering about dresses and colors that were suitable for the dance.

While they talked Lance entered the store and led several other baseball players toward the lunch counter. The boys threw themselves into a booth and shouted orders at Stevie. Stevie took their abuse in silence as he wrote the hamburger and drink orders on his pad. The girls watched the boys pose and strut, giggling behind their hands. Unseen by the others, Rebecca tugged Kelly's skirt under the table.

"Come with me to the bathroom," Rebecca said.

Kelly slid out of the booth and led the way to the small ladies' room. Once inside, Kelly fished a cigarette out of her purse and lit it while Rebecca checked under the stall doors to make sure that they were alone.

"Kelly, has Bud asked you to the dance?"

Kelly coughed and looked at her friend with some amazement. "Bud? He's - no, he hasn't asked me. In fact, the only time he talks with me is to tease me."

Rebecca borrowed the cigarette and took a drag, neatly blowing the smoke out of her nose. "He's had a crush on you for years. I'll talk some sense into him, you can count on it. He'll ask you before the end of the week."

"What about you? You're going with Lance aren't you?"

Rebecca took another drag from the cigarette and passed it back to her friend. "I guess so," the blue smoke wreathed her head as she exhaled. "I'm thinking about breaking up with him after graduation, though."

"The King and Queen of Kingsport High going splitsville? Christ, that'd be the social disaster of the summer. What's the matter? Have you found another man?"

"No. I just need a change. Somebody who won't grab my butt or paw my boobs every time I come close."

"When you find Mister Perfect, you make sure he's got a friend for me," Kelly giggled. 

Stevie had watched Rebecca walk toward the bathrooms under hooded eyes. Rather than give the ball players any chance to renew their verbal abuse, he sorted silverware, keeping his head down as he caught snatches of conversation.

"She's going to give it up at the dance," Lance boasted to his friends. "She's been teasing me every morning. I can tell she wants it." 

The other boys guffawed, elbowing each other as they looked toward the girl's bathroom. Lance continued with some detailed descriptions of his plans for his girlfriend but quieted down as Rebecca and Kelly emerged from the bathroom. One of the boys tried unsuccessfully to smother a coarse chuckle as they watched Rebecca approach the table. Lance relished the looks of envy and admiration from his buddies, each one of them undressing Rebecca with his eyes and wishing that he could be Lance the night of the dance.

"Lance, I've got to go home. Did you want to walk with me or can you give me a ride?"

"Let's take the jalopy, Sheba. You know what they say: A bad ride's better than a good walk any day."

Lance got up from the booth, acknowledging the laughs of his sycophants with a casual wave of his hand. Wrapping his arm around Rebecca's thin waist, he slowly led her out of the store, taking his time so that everyone had time to notice him.

The drive through Kingsport's narrow streets gave Lance another opportunity to try to slip his hand under Rebecca's pleated skirt. He parked and leaned over to give Rebecca a kiss but she pushed him away.

"Not where my parents or their friends could see. I don't need that kind of reputation."

"But, Babe, look what you do to me," he said, indicating the large lump in his trousers. "You can't keep teasing me like this. I've got to have you. You know I love you."

Rebecca sighed. She had known that getting him to take her home would lead to this. She looked up and down the quiet little street. No one was in sight so she scooted over a fraction. The Model T's seats weren't all that wide to begin with and she had to maneuver her way around the gear lever. He'd already unbuttoned his fly and she gave his swollen member a soft pat. He groaned and clenched his teeth as she ran her fingertips along the length of his throbbing rod. Slipping a finger in between the buttons of his BVDs, she stroked the smooth shaft and felt it lurch under her touch.

"My, you are in a state, aren't you," Rebecca whispered.

"Take it out," he said, moving his hand to release his cock.

"I'll do it. You just sit there," she said as she pushed his hands away and quickly undid his fly. 

Lance's cock sprang into her hand. Her stomach fluttered as the eight inch prong slapped against his shirt front, bobbing in time with his pulse. She always felt torn at these times. She heard a voice in her head urging to take his thing and do all of the slutty things he kept asking her to do. At the same time, another voice that sounded like her mother's, told her to run away and save her reputation as a "nice girl."

Suddenly she remembered where she was - sitting in a car on Bedlow Street in broad daylight with a man's cock in her hand. Rebecca quickly formed a tight ring around Lance's shaft with her fingers and jerked him off with short, rapid strokes. She looked up from her work to see Lance grit his teeth, his eyes screwed shut.

"Almost," he grunted, "yeah, that's it."

His hand covered hers as he came. A jet of thick white cream arched between them, spattering Rebecca's skirt. Lance grabbed for his handkerchief and wiped his cum off of his hand and wrist. Balling it up, he tossed it out the car's window without offering it to Rebecca.

"Thanks," he said with his usual cocky tone. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Rebecca knew better than to complain about the semen that he'd purposely shot onto her clothes. She knew that he'd just laugh and tell her that if she would take his thing in her mouth like he'd asked she wouldn't have to worry about "his aim." She left the car without a word and ran up her driveway.

Instead of going in to the front door and risking a meeting with her mother, Rebecca slipped around the side of the house and went down the stairs to the laundry room. She stole into the basement, carefully opening the old door so that it did not creak. She needed a few moments alone; both to clean her skirt before it stained and to relieve the swirling, tingling feeling between her legs.

Rebecca stepped around the staircase that led to the kitchen and stopped in her tracks. Illuminated by the dim light of the basement window, a huge black man loomed over Millie. Rebecca recognized the man as the grocery store's delivery driver, Tyrone, but she was puzzled because he had no reason to come to the laundry room. She was about to ask what was going on when Millie moved slightly and Rebecca's voice caught in her throat. 

The cock in Millie's hands dwarfed the one she'd just held because, although Millie had both hands around Tyrone's impressive pole, the head was still clearly visible. Even in the shadowy light, Rebecca could see that Millie's hand only barely circled the girth of his tool.

Millie's tongue darted over the dark black tip of Tyrone's cock. Using one hand, she carefully pushed his foreskin back and took the head of the delivery man's cock into her mouth. Rebecca thought that Millie would gag but the maid deftly worked her mouth to take more and more of the salami sized penis. While her mouth worked on the thick head, Millie's hands stroked and rubbed the rest of his shaft.

Rebecca was entranced. She'd dreamed of taking Lance's thing into her mouth but something had always stopped her before she did it. Without thinking, her mouth opened and her tongue wet her lower lip, mimicking Millie's movements. A soft moan escaped her lips; a sound filled with need.

Millie's head whipped around. "Ahh, shit," she said without releasing her two fisted grip on Tyrone's cock. "We've got to find a better place to meet."

Rebecca's flushed complexion and her fixed stare at Tyrone's cock told Millie what had caused the sound. "Come on over here, girl. It's time you learnt how to handle one of these things."

Rebecca took her first step hesitantly, as if shuffling through thick mud. Without waiting for Rebecca to join her on the floor, Millie stuck the pointed end of her tongue into the slit of Tyrone's black knob. Sitting back to let Rebecca get closer, a thin strand of pre-cum trailed from the slit to her lips. Rebecca knelt beside Millie on the floor, still staring at the monstrous member. Millie took one of Rebecca's hands and placed it beside her own. The pale white and dark tan hands contrasted against Tyrone's jet black pole. With her other hand, Millie guided Rebecca's head toward his knob.

"Just wet your lips and open wide."

Millie crawled behind Rebecca, both to keep her from moving away and to coach her with whispers in the redhead's ear. Millie's breasts flattened against Rebecca's back; her aroused sex snugly rubbing against Rebecca's firm ass. Still holding on to Tyrone, Millie's free hand encircled Rebecca and gently cupped the girl's breast.

Rebecca didn't shy away from Millie's touch. In fact it helped push her closer to the brink; to the point where her mother's voice was vanished in the rush of her desire. Lust welled up inside the 18-year-old's body and washed away her restraint like a sand castle in a rising tide. She touched the bottom of the black, mushroom shaped prong and rolled her tongue in the vee-shaped crease. Rebecca tasted the clear, salty fluid that seeped from the slit and then licked around Tyrone's cock head like a big, black ice cream cone.

"Dass it. Put the head in yo' mouth and give it a soft suck. He likes dat," Millie coached. 

Rebecca's cheeks hollowed; her eyes closed in concentration as she tried to absorb all of the strange new feelings. Millie, sure that Rebecca wasn't about to try and leave, let go of Tyrone's pole. While one hand moved inside Rebecca's blouse and teased the girl's nipples, the other stroked the white girl's flanks and thighs. As Rebecca moved to licking and stroking Tyrone's shaft without being encouraged to do so, Millie's caresses became bolder.

Still massaging Rebecca's cantaloupe size tits, Millie used her other hand to unzip the girl's skirt. Her hands followed the soft silk underwear to the junction between the redhead's thighs. Feeling the dampness under her fingertips, Millie pulled on the ribbon and opened Rebecca's underpants. Millie pressed ahead, slowly advancing her hand through the soft curls that lay at the top of Rebecca's wet slit.

As if responding to Millie's advances, Rebecca tried to take the entire head of Tyrone's cock in her mouth. Her hands moved along the thick fleshy rod and her tongue danced around the sensitive head. Pushing her head forward, she tried to take more of him into her mouth but the size made her gag slightly.

"Don't stop breathing. Use your nose to breathe and swallow likes you was taking a big drank."

Rebecca tried again but still couldn't get more than the big round tip of Tyrone's cock into her mouth. Millie decided that it was time to try another idea. She pulled Rebecca back to sit on her heels, the girl's hands still wrapped around his shaft.

"I think that we'll try this again some other time," Millie said. "Tyrone needs some relief, too."

Millie had Rebecca sit to one side and lay down on the tile floor in front of the delivery man. Pulling her dress over her hips, Millie cocked one leg back and held her wet labia open.

"Girl, you get that skirt off and toss it on to the laundry pile." 

Tyrone silently knelt and placed his cock, still glistening with Rebecca's spit, against the swollen entrance to Millie's pussy. Rebecca stood and stared as Tyrone's ass bobbed back and forth, feeding Millie's hungry pussy more and more of his meat with each stroke. She knelt when she felt Millie's hand tug at her calf, pulling her down to the floor to sit at the maid's head.

Millie's eyes had glazed over. She seemed to be in another place as her hands traveled up Rebecca's legs to cup the pale, firm ass and bring the redhead's pussy to her lips. Rebecca's body quivered like a plucked string. Millie's bold tongue darted over her sensitive spots, delving into places that had only felt her fingers before that moment. Millie devoted her attention to licking the sensitive rim of the redhead's love tunnel. Millie lifted her head briefly, both for air and to allow Rebecca to shift to a more comfortable position. 

"Tyrone. Slow down, Shuga'. I want to git me some more of this sweet pie."

Tyrone obligingly slowed his pace, smoothly gliding forwards and backwards. Rebecca lay on her side beside Millie, her eyes mere inches from Tyrone's thrusting cock and his pendulous balls. She gasped as Millie's mouth returned to her wet cunny and she reached forward to rub the erect nubbin that stood proudly between the dark coral folds of Millie's pussy. Rebecca leaned forward and kissed the maid's swollen little button, eliciting a strangled cry from Millie. She'd heard the boys call it a cunt, but it was too soft and sweet for such a harsh word. Her tongue strayed lower down Millie's wet furrow, tasting her sweet honey. Reaching the bottom of Millie's slit, Rebecca's tongue glided over the top of Tyrone's shaft as it plunged in and out.

The touch of Rebecca's tongue brought out the first words Tyrone had said all afternoon. "Dammit. I cain't hold off much longer."

Millie, replacing her tongue with her fingers inside Rebecca's pussy, looked up. "Go ahead. I'm - I'm cummin' too."

Rebecca placed her hand atop Millie's womb and felt Millie's pussy spasm around Tyrone's shaft. She marveled at the feeling. It was almost as if she were the one with his gigantic cock inside her. Tyrone made a few more strokes and then stiffened, the flood of his seed leaking from Millie to puddle on the tiles. Exhausted, Millie's hand had stopped; so Rebecca reached down to rub her own slit. The excitement and realization of what she'd done, of what she'd let Millie do to her, and of what she was willing to do finally hit her like a tidal wave. She clamped her legs together, trapping Millie's hand together with hers.

When she finally surfaced from the vortex of her orgasm, Rebecca opened her legs and rolled on to her back. The force of her climax had surprised her, as did the large puddle that she was lying in. Millie, propped up on one elbow, leaned over her and stroked her cheek.

"Girl, you worried me." Millie kissed Rebecca gently on the lips. "You was floppin' around like a landed fish." She kissed Rebecca again and then sat up. "We'll keep this our little secret. I know that Tyrone won't be telling anybody," she said, nodding toward the big man as he tucked his shirt tail back into his pants. 

-=)0(=-

Bud and Thorny crept through the garden's back gate only moments after Rebecca had entered the basement. They stealthily climbed the wooden slats they'd nailed into the tree trunk, pushing the trap door open and slipping into Bud's old tree house without being seen. Staying low, the boys crept across the plank floor to the window.

"You bring the specs?" Thorny asked. 

From their vantage point, some fifteen feet in the air, the boys had a direct line of sight into the second floor windows of the houses that lined the street behind Bud's home. Bud pulled his father's old binoculars out of his book bag and focused on one particular window in the yellow frame house that stood some thirty feet away from them. Details of the bedroom he was looking at jumped out at him. Bud could easily make out the little pink flowers on the bedspread and the line of china dolls on the book shelf. A mirror hung on the wall directly opposite the window, reflecting the closet door and the dresser that stood in corner of the room.

"Here she comes," Bud whispered. 

Both boys leaned forward as the room's door opened. Bud bit his lower lip as the object of his dreams entered her bedroom and casually dropped her books on her desk. Kelly Parker's cheerleader skirt flared as she spun to admire herself in the mirror. She posed for a few moments, smoothing her skirt and running her hands over her blouse. 

"Lemme see," Thorny tugged at the strap of the binoculars.

Even without the glasses, Bud could see Kelly turning back and forth, holding her hair up as if trying new hair styles. Thorny started a commentary, like an announcer at a ball game.

"She's undoing her buttons. There you go, she's wearing a pale blue under thingy."

"It's called a chemise," Bud offered.

They had been watching Kelly Parker undress everyday after school for about two weeks. She'd come home from cheerleading practice or dance class and pirouette in front of the mirror before changing out of her clothes. Every day she'd take off a little more before closing the curtains and leaving them to masturbate hidden safely in the tree house. They'd already seen a variety of women's underwear and Bud had done some research in his mother's pattern book for the correct names. 

"There goes the skirt." 

Thorny's commentary continued even though he was only holding the binoculars with one hand. The other had found its way to his crotch to try to reposition his rapidly swelling member. Bud reached over and reclaimed the field glasses. They were in the home stretch and he wanted a good view before she went for the curtains.

Bud picked up Thorny's announcing style. Thorny, his eyes still glued to Kelly's window, fumbled with his trouser buttons and released his cock. Even though he'd just cum inside Goldie only a few minutes earlier, he stroked it without thinking, using his spit to lubricate his palm. Bud bit the inside of his cheek. He knew he'd be pounding his pud soon enough but he wanted to make sure that he saw every last glimpse of Kelly's perfect pale body before he had to relieve himself.

"OK, she's hanging up the blouse and the skirt. Bending over to pick up the shoes. It's a pair of blue silk drawers today."

Thorny's hand moved faster along his pole. In her bedroom, Kelly returned to the mirror and did another pirouette. Facing her reflection, she pulled the silken undershirt up so that its hem just barely covered her nipples.

"Ohmigod," Bud gasped.

Bud focused in closer on the rounded mounds that peeked out of the camisole. Kelly wasn't as buxom as his mother or sister, but he was dying to see her firm grapefruit-sized breasts.

"Yep, I can see 'em, too," Thorny added.

"I wish I could be there to touch 'em," Bud confessed. 

Kelly let the camisole drop back down to cover her breasts and stomach. Before Thorny could finish his groan of disappointment, she hooked her thumbs in her waistband and pushed her bloomers to the floor. She returned to the mirror and tied her hair into a ponytail. When she raised her arms the camisole rode up to expose the bottom of her firm rear end, a sight so sought after Thorny's hand froze for a moment.

Then she did what the boys had only dared dream about. Kelly bent over to retrieve her panties. The twin globes of her ass were in full view, as was the shadow of her lightly furred labia. Bud, with the advantage of the binoculars, could see the hair covering her sex, hair that was only slightly darker than her blonde tresses. Standing, she tossed the underwear at the closet and walked toward the window. 

"Show's over," Bud said, sinking below the window.

Thorny's hand was a blur as he crouched in a corner. Bud knelt in another corner and pulled out his stiff prick. He was only getting started when Thorny's grunts let Bud know that he was finished. Instead of beating off in front of his friend, Bud carefully folded his rigid member into his pants.

"Hey, I gotta go," said Thorny as he retrieved his book bag.

"Yeah, me too," Bud replied as he carefully returned his father's binoculars to their case. "You better see if you can snag a set of these from your ol' man," he said, "the way Kelly's going, we don't want to be passing these back and forth."

"Yeah. You going to ask her to the graduation dance?"

"Sure. Like she'd go to the big dance with a nobody like me. Worse yet, a nobody who's her best friend's little brother. People'd think it was a mercy date or something."

"Well, you know what they say," Thorny pulled the trap door back, "nothing ventured, nothing gained," he said as he descended the ladder.

Bud left the tree house bounded into the backdoor, heading straight for the icebox for a soda.

"Bud! Bud, is that you? Cum'on down here and give me a hand," Millie shouted from the laundry room.

Bud, soda bottle in hand, sauntered down the narrow steps. The air reeked with a sweet, pungent, stench. He coughed and cleared his throat with a quick swallow of soda. 

"Need a hand?"

Millie held up the stained sheets that she'd taken from his bed that morning. "So who's got you all hot and nasty? Some skinny little white gal got you all hot and bothered?"

Bud tried denying it but Millie persisted. "Don't lie to me, Bud Lostridge. I know what a man's cum smells like."

She tossed the sheet on to a pile of laundry and, without warning, reached up and cupped his crotch. She stood so close to him that her full breasts rubbed against his chest.

Feeling his steel hard cock, Millie murmured to herself, "When it rains it pours." Looking up into his flushed face, she pulled at his belt. "I know what you need, Bud. I know how to relieve your condition."

Millie pulled his belt open and pushed his trousers down around his knees. His cock, still hard from Kelly's show, leaped out of his fly and lightly slapped her cheek. Instead of immediately attacking his bulging crotch, she stepped back. 

Posing in the dim light of the basement window, she undid the four large buttons that ran down the center of her maid's uniform. Standing in the dim light, Millie peeled her uniform off and threw it over the clothesline that ran the length of the basement. Her underwear quickly followed and she returned to the steps wearing nothing but a broad smile and a hungry look. 

Although he felt vulnerable, standing at the bottom of the basement steps with his pants around his ankles and his stiff cock in his hand, Bud stopped to admire Millie's voluptuous body. Where Goldie was pale and bony, Millie was cinnamon colored and voluptuous. Even the brief teasing glimpses of Kelly's young form didn't compare to Millie's lush body. When Millie cupped her heavy breasts and offered them to him, Bud stumbled forward, keeping himself from falling by a death grip on the handrail. He paused to kick of his shoes and free himself from the tangle around his ankles.

"You're beautiful," he said. 

He drew her toward him. She smelled like a mixture of sweat and lye soap but he kissed her hungrily. His hands roamed over her body, feeling her full breasts, rounded hips, and smooth back. Her hands were busy as well, slowly stroking his cock and murmuring how good he was going to feel inside her.

Bud lowered his head and took one of her swollen nipples into his mouth. One hand ventured tentatively toward the wiry hair that covered the juncture of her thighs. She let go of his ass to guide his hand through the damp furrow between her legs. They stood in the dank room, their bodies pressed against each other, hands exploring each other like new lovers although they'd known each other most of their lives.

"I've got to have you," he whispered.

Without letting go of his cock, she shuffled backward toward the laundry pile until the basket knocked against her calves. Then she lay back on the dirty sheets. Her breasts barely flattened as she reclined and spread her legs. 

Bud knelt and used his stiff rod to draw small circles around and through her inner labia. He relished the slick feeling of her sex before sliding his cock into the velvety grip of her pussy. He groaned softly and pulled out slightly before pushing forward again, thrusting deeper each time.

She craned her neck to watch him insert his thick tool inside her. Despite the fact that she'd had Tyrone's truncheon like member inside her twice that day, the fact that she'd been Bud's playmate and nursery maid made this special. The fact that he was well hung was just an added bonus. She hooked her legs around his back and drew him inside her until his hips met hers.

The feeling of her thick wiry thatch against his belly seemed to break the spell that had come over him. His hands pinned her forearms down and he gave each of her breasts a long, wet kiss. Bud smiled into Millie's dark brown eyes as his hips moved back and forth in a deep, steady pace. Millie lay back on the laundry and encouraged him with a stage whispered stream of obscenities about the size and feeling of his manhood.

"Oh yess, Baby. Yess. Come fuck ol' Millie. Jam that piece of meat in my hot little puss." 

Bud looked down to where his body joined hers. His thick shaft glistened with her juices. Raising his eyes, he saw her breasts jiggle and shift as his hips slapped against hers. Finally he looked into her eyes, her face a mask of sweaty pleasure. He grunted between clenched teeth as he drove his fleshy spike into her willing body.

Suddenly his body stiffened, his body slammed against hers, and he let out a strangled cry. She felt his cock twitch and flood her silken tunnel with cum. Millie held his head between her hands so that she could watch his face, sharing the moment with him. 

He supported himself over her, gasping for breath, until she drew him down to lie on her chest and kissed him deeply. They lay on top of the laundry pile, holding each other in the dank basement, until they heard the clock strike five. With one last kiss, Millie rolled Bud's body off hers.

"Git yourself tucked in and cleaned up. I gotta git supper on the table before your momma comes looking for me."

Chapter 4

The family had their dinner in silence. RJ soon tired of trying to provoke a meal time discussion of the day's events and retired to listen to the radio in the parlor. Hiding behind the newspaper, he planned his next chance to indulge himself with Elsa's charms. RJ rested the paper on his lap, concealing the large bulge that had grown as he imagined the slight redhead on her back, lying naked on his desk and begging for him to fuck her.

The family had resumed its normal routine, but only on the surface. As soon as they had been excused from the table, Bud and Rebecca had disappeared upstairs to do their homework. Safely out of sight in the bathroom, Bud washed away the sticky traces of Millie's juices. He paused to hold his cock in his hand and wonder if it was really as big and thick as she'd said. 

Across the hall in her room, Rebecca lay on her stomach, her hand burrowed between her pussy lips as she replayed her session in the laundry room. Her hand made wet, squishing sounds as her fingers plunged in and out of her pussy. She bit down on one of her rag dolls to keep from crying out as she came, the vision of Tyrone's cock drilling Millie's tasty quim filling her mind.

In the kitchen, Harriet scraped the dishes for Millie to wash the next morning. For her part, she stood at the sink and tried to be patient; vainly trying to fend off the lustful feelings that threatened to overwhelm her. The scene she'd witnessed between Millie and the deliveryman was etched in her mind: The way Millie's breasts had bounced as his mammoth cock plowed into her, the wet slapping sounds as their bodies met at the end of each stroke. 

Harriet tried to compose herself. She was over-reacting, she told herself. She was, after all, a mother, a member of the PTA and the Church Women's Auxiliary. She'd been married for 18 years and had never once felt the temptation that burned inside her now. She chewed her bottom lip, desperately searching for a way to take the edge off her needs before anyone found out.

In the back of her mind, she kept remembering that tonight was "the night." In the past, it had become a chore that Harriet had come to dread, but this week she needed her husband's cock inside her. She looked at the kitchen clock and wondered if she had time to use the thick handle of her hair brush, a handy tool that had met her needs quite a few times over the last months. She also knew that the extra lubrication would help RJ finish quickly.

Before she could slip upstairs, however, she heard a sound behind her. RJ had come into the kitchen for a drink. He put his hand on her hip and leaned to give her a quick peck on the neck. His idea of foreplay, Harriet thought bitterly. But, in her state, even his casual touch made her weak in the knees. 

Harriet stumbled back as one ankle wobbled and landed in RJ's arms. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his unmistakable bulge against her backside. She reached behind her and pressed her hand against the outline of his manhood. His hands had caught her around the waist, but now they reached up to cradle her heavy breasts. 

"RJ, what about the children?" she asked.

He buried his face under the pile of auburn curls at the back of her neck. His hands fondled her breasts. Her nipples poked through her dress, scraping against his palms. Her squirms only succeeded in increasing the friction between his rapidly swelling manhood and her ripe, round bottom.

"I was hoping to do something a little different tonight." She turned and knelt in front of him. "Something that I haven't done in years," she said, unbuttoning his fly.

Harriet took RJ's manhood out of his union suit and held it flat against his belly with the palm of her hand. Leaning forward, she licked and sucked his testicles while her hand massaged the sensitive seam of his cock. Humming to herself, she worked her way from his balls to the base of his cock. There, she nibbled his penis with small, gentle bites. RJ braced himself against the sink, arching his back to make sure that Harriet had unimpeded access to his dick.

She painted the length of his cock with the flat of her tongue. When she reached the vee-shaped flare of his corona, she flicked the tip of her tongue from side to side, enjoying how the plum colored tip swelled from her attention. After a quick, wet lick around the head, she sank her mouth over his fleshy spike. One hand held his shaft at the right angle while the other caressed his balls. At times she'd tickle the sensitive spot at the root of his cock, other times her finger would reach farther between his legs and tease his asshole.

The stimulation from her mouth and hands pushed the bounds of RJ's senses. She'd been like this when they'd first married; two love birds that got out of bed on a weekend only to get food or bring back a drink. They'd made love in any number of exciting places but she'd never given him a hummer in their kitchen. 

Harriet's finger returned to his wrinkled back passage. She massaged it with small circles, pushing the fingertip in slightly more each time. Just when he thought he couldn't feel any better, his cock exploded, spraying the back of her throat with his thick, hot jism. He looked down and saw his wife milking his cock, her tongue outstretched to catch each pearly drop.

With a sultry look on her face, she stood and kissed him. He tasted his salty seed as her tongue dueled with his. His cock sprang back to life, twitching as it lay sandwiched between their bodies. She broke their embrace and, leaving him struggling to push his semi-rigid pole back into his pants, led him up the stairs to their bedroom.

Later that night, as RJ lay in the warm darkness of his bed, he couldn't believe that his sedate wife had broken their routine so drastically. After the remarkable blowjob in the kitchen, she'd continued her extraordinary behavior in the bedroom. First, she stripped off her clothes with the lights still on. His eyes had feasted on the sight of those massive globes perched on top of her chest and the thick red curls at the base of her belly. His cock got harder than it had been in years when the soft kerosene light glistened off of her damp pussy lips. 

Then she climbed onto the bed, propped herself against the headboard, and spread her knees. In language that he'd have expected from Goldie, she told him exactly what she wanted him to do next. Hearing his prim and proper wife talk about "fucking her cunt" and "swamping her with his cum" made him as randy as a goat. They'd spent the next hour coupling like weasels in heat, rolling and wrestling around on the sheets while their hips continue to work on their own. His body had dripped with sweat by the time her sex had stopped pulsing and gripping his still stiff cock. He'd even managed to cum again, a noteworthy event for a man nearing his 40th birthday.