Chapter 3
"Please faster your seat belts. We are about to land at Grandview
Airport. Please observe the no smoking sign, and remain in your seats
until Captain Carson has brought the plane to a complete stop. We thank
you for flying with Columbia and hope to have the pleasure of seeing
you again." There followed a strident noise as the stewardess did
something wrong with her speaker and then finally got it turned off
correctly.
It was only the second time that Arlene Pickering had flown in an
airplane, and she wondered if she would be doing a lot of traveling now
that she was going to stay with her cousin Sylvie in her big house by
the shore just outside of Grandville.
Sylvie had often mentioned in her letters the possibility of Arlene's
coming to help with the management of the large sprawling "Cassidy
Family Meeting House," but Arlene had carefully guarded herself from
believing that one day it might come true. It seemed too much to hope
for that she would really leave the small town of Tillings where both
she and Sylvie had been brought up together to circulate in the
exciting world of Ton Cassidy and his family! Yet there she was now,
about to do just that, and the attractive 26 year old brunette could
hardly contain the mounting nervousness and excitement that she felt.
When she had gotten Sylvie's call two days before, she had been only
too glad to reply that, yes, she could "drop everythin'," as Sylvie had
put it and fly to Grandville immediately to take up her new duties.
Sylvie had sounded quite different and very serious on the phone ...
unlike the laughing carefree girl Arlene had grown up with. But Arlene
understood that it was probably quite a job to take care of all the
things Sylvie did, and she was only too glad to go and help out.
Arlene looked out of the window as the airplane started its steep
descent toward the airport of the capitol city of the State. Sylvie's
words rang in her head as she looked at the tall buildings rising in
the distance ... and there further on the extending shoreline where she
would soon be living with her cousin and the Cassidys.
"I must have somebody close to me whom I can trust!" she'd said. "If
you could just manage the house and the servants, I would be ever so
grateful!"
Arlene recalled with some pleasure how shocked Sylvie's father had been
when she had told him she would no longer be working at the department
store. Max Pickering was more than an uncle to her, he had been really
more like a father for she had been raised along with Sylvie after her
father had died. Sylvie's mother had been a gentle mother to both girls
but now she too was gone, and only the old man remained.
Nice as he was, Arlene nonetheless was happy to get away from the
stifling influence of the small town and especially the small
specialized world of the department store. Arlene hoped that she would
never have to spend more than five minutes within the wall of the three
storied building again.
The plane touched down, and Arlene felt thrilled as her body was
pressed against the seat and the plane raced down the runway. She was
conscious and critical of her entire body, going over in her mind once
more the other choices she might have made as to what to wear for her
initial arrival at her cousin's house. A soft beige linen-type suit was
what she was wearing, its length just below her knees as the latest
fashions seemed to indicate, although she wasn't quite sure at all,
since the other women on the plane all seemed to be wearing short
skirts as though there had been no drop in the hem-line at all. If
necessary, she decided, she would pull her skirt up to her waist; after
all, her legs were one of her best features, she knew, and she did not
mind showing them off.
Her long dark brown hair was pulled back into a cool knot behind her
head, and Arlene knew that her complexion would withstand the most
rigorous scrutiny. And she was good looking and she knew it. If she had
her way, she might have made her chin just a bit less prominent, but as
it was it gave her face a strength of character that matched that which
she had inside her. Arlene was strong willed and knew that she would be
able to get what she wanted in life if given the right chances. Well,
Sylvie was giving her a chance right now. "This is it!" she told
herself fiercely, as the plane taxied to a halt. She was out in the
real world at last.
Her heart was thumping as she began to shuffle toward the exit of the
plane with the other passengers. There was only one thing that bothered
her. How would she react to such close proximity to him? She had tried
to get over it, reminding herself that her long-time crush on the young
district attorney, Tim Cassidy, was just that ... a schoolgirl crush,
based on newspaper clippings and the TV. It had been going on long
before Sylvie went to Grandville to work for him, and then a year later
married him! Arlene had met him only once at the wedding, and then she
had been so overwhelmed, so touched by her cousin's great happiness and
good fortune that she had no room for jealousy in her heart.
She still felt that way really, but the strength of her crush on Tim
Cassidy was still in full force and she could not help worrying. Would
her lips tremble where she spoke to him? Would her voice break?
She would have to do her very best to control her feelings and to get
over her silly and childish emotions!
She emerged from the plane in her turn, blinking and squinting in the
harsh autumn sunlight. Were her cousin and her famous husband standing
somewhere across the field in that group of people watching her at that
very moment? The thought made her feel momentarily faint, and she
almost tripped upon the metal stairs that descended from the airplane.
She felt herself being caught by a pair of strong hands, and as she
turned, an intimate link had been forged between her and the stranger
behind her.
"Are you all right?" he inquired, looking at her intently. His hands
were warm and secure upon her arms and she felt undeniably weak, in
fact in need of his reassuring presence. But, she assured the handsome
man who had been a passenger on the same plane that she was fine, and
with some difficulty she turned away from him, after saying thank you,
thereby letting him know that she had nothing further to say.
The incident was unsettling, and Arlene sensed an unprecedented turmoil
within herself, a turmoil that this small event had pointed out to her,
showing her in a way that there was some weak spot within her that made
her susceptible. She did not want to admit what she considered to be a
failing within herself, however, and as she walked briskly toward the
waiting crowd at the terminal, she readied her most self-assured smile.
She was after all the girl who knew her own mind, who had turned down
more than one proposal back in Tillings. Offers of marriage from young
men that other girls in town would give anything to get their hands on,
but who were lacking in Arlene's critical eye. Why get married right
off the bat to some know-nothing small town boy? All this time she had
been saving up to go to Grandville, where she had planned on getting
herself a luxurious apartment followed by a job, any job at all, she
would be able to coast on her savings, and she had counted on her
cousin Sylvie's help in introducing her to some really eligible men.
Now of course all that was changed, and for the better. Arlene would
soon be meeting more of the right people than she had ever dreamed, and
life was going to be full of adventure from now on in!
A brisk young woman greeted Arlene and led her through the crowd of
milling people into the airport. Together, they waited for the baggage
to descend from a moving ramp and when Arlene's new leather suitcase
appeared, the woman arranged for a porter to carry it outside the
modern terminal building to a waiting limousine.
The woman had introduced herself as Sylvie's secretary, and Arlene was
so impressed that she was speechless. She had forgotten just what great
status her little cousin Sylvie had these days, and her heart thumped
loudly as she spotted the ominous looking limousine with its drawn
curtains. She and the secretary were ushered in by a politely smiling
chauffeur and there in the womb like interior of the big Chrysler,
Arlene came face to face with her cousin. The two women embraced and
Arlene was surprised to see tears come to Sylvie's eyes as the
limousine started up without so much as a jerk.
In fact, the elegant young woman who sat next to her in the comfortable
posh cushions of the back seat, bore little resemblance to the
outgoing, happy-go-lucky girl who had been like a sister to her. Her
features seemed pale and drawn, and although the younger girl had
replaced her sunglasses, Arlene thought that she looked as if she had
been crying a great deal. Perhaps it was her imagination, though she
couldn't be sure. But Sylvie's whole manner was nervous and withdrawn,
despite her exclamation of joy at seeing her older cousin again.
"You have no idea how glad I am that you're here," Sylvie told her as
they whizzed through the outskirts of Grandville. They had stopped to
let Sylvie's secretary off at the downtown campaign offices where she
worked answering the multitude of mail that had been pouring in
addressed to Mrs. Tim Cassidy, and where she organized Sylvie's
speaking schedule and acted as intermediary between her and the press;
and now the two cousins were alone in the vast back seat of the
speeding car, separated from the chauffeur by a glass partition.
"I'm ready to start helping right away!" Arlene said eagerly, wondering
just where her secret idol, her cousin's husband, was at the moment.
As though reading her mind, Sylvie gazed absentmindedly out the window
and said, "Tim returns to the house tonight." She paused and then
continued, "You'll soon see that no one of us is quite like ourselves.
Campaigning is a dreadfully wearing business. It changes everything.
There is little time for leading any real kind of life."
Her cousin looked so sad that Arlene reached out and took her hand.
"Poor Sylvie ... Well now I'm here and I never was one to shun hard
work ... you know that!"
* * *
It was after midnight when Arlene lay totally naked, extended in the
warmth of her bed. It was an old four poster, but the firm, comfortable
mattress was quite modern. Her head was whirling not only from the
extensive amount of wine she had had at dinner, but from the events of
the evening.
Tim Cassidy had indeed returned from his upstate swing, and instead of
looking fatigued, had appeared at the peak of his forces. The energy
that emanated from the man was astounding. Arlene had been overwhelmed
by his warmth as he greeted her with enthusiasm and welcomed her to the
household.
"Great!" he declared, winking at her in a cheerful manner that
nonetheless made Arlene feel a little thrill of excitement coursing
across her skin. She could still feel the goose-bumps!
"Sylvie needs someone around that is close to her. You look like a very
capable young woman!"
Arlene had stammered some kind of reply and then the other brothers
were talking to her, Ron and Erick, asking about her trip and generally
making her feel a part of the family.
At dinner, which was served late around 9:00 P.M., Arlene was beginning
to wonder just where all the stress and strain was that her cousin had
been talking about, and as she observed the beautifully gowned and
coifed Sylvie, she wondered why she always seemed to be holding back
... never joining in the general good humor that circulated at the
table. There were no other guests at dinner, something that Sylvie told
her was rather unusual, so Arlene had ample time to get to know the two
brothers as well as Tim himself. Ron seemed a serious sort, and Arlene
could see that he was the perfect person to mount his older brother's
campaign for him to reach the Senate. His words were brisk and clipped
as he summarized for the table what goals had been accomplished during
the trip they had just completed, and what obstacles lay ahead for the
Senator-to-be in the next few weeks.
His resemblance to Tim Cassidy was striking, but there was a hard edge
to his features that Tim did not have. Tim's looks were a perfect
combination of sensitivity and determination that gave him a completely
trustworthy appearance. As for the younger brother, Arlene liked him
the least of all, and his features, though of the same intelligent cut
as his older brother's, were somewhat softer, more baby-like. Arlene
supposed that it must be hard being the youngest of two such dynamic
brothers as Tim and Ron, and feeling in a congenial mood, she drank
more wine as it was offered to her and listened with all ears to each
word that came from Tim Cassidy's lips.
Now, nakedly curling up into a ball beneath the light weight blanket
that covered her bed, Arlene could still hear his deep voice, as she
played back his words in her head, like a phonograph record. In spite
of herself, she felt a twinge of jealousy rising inside her as she
thought of her lucky younger cousin. Now a few doors away with her
husband ... all by themselves. "He's been away for a few days," Arlene
thought, "they'll be making love, no doubt!"
She tried to put the thought out of her mind, knowing that she ought
not to be thinking of such strange things, but it kept coming back.
"It's the wine," she thought, "that's making me think such things!"
Arlene had never thought of herself as a very sensual person, in fact
with the various boy friends she had had thus far, she was always ready
to assert that she could "take sex or leave it alone." She had always
suspected though that none of them had been able to excite her... to
arouse her sufficiently to make her crave their intimate embraces.
Someone like Tim Cassidy, though, she began to muse ... someone like
that would know how ... She did not complete the thought, but suddenly
she envied her 24 year old cousin terribly, visualizing the young
blonde woman, locked against the naked body of her blonde husband. The
two of them looked more like brother and sister than man and wife,
Arlene thought, automatically comparing her own dark beauty to Tim's
fairness.
"Oh stop it!" she told herself sternly, but Arlene's large soft breasts
were already filled with longing as the big round nipples contracted to
a tense hardness, and her whole being felt a readiness, a ripeness that
pushed rational thinking from her head.
"What would it feel like to feel him on top of me ... to spread my legs
beneath him ... to let him enter, hard and strong, filling me ...
taking me?"
The tall brunette turned over on her back in bed. She spread her bare
legs out, separating her long statuesque thighs so that the fur-trimmed
lips of her dark curly pussy were parted, and breathing slowly, she
imagined herself in her younger cousin's place. In bed with Tim
Cassidy!
* * *
Tim emerged from the steam of his shower, and after drying himself off,
strode naked into the room. He was proud of his body with its lean
hardness that he had cultivated ever since he was a youth at college.
Now he was 36, and he knew that if he wanted to keep on looking that
way, he must continue the rigorous exercises that he did whenever he
got a chance. He was still elated by the way things had gone on his
trip in spite of his wife's unwillingness to go along. He was almost
certain that he would win the race for the Senate, and once there,
nothing could stop him in his quest for the presidency. He was mulling
these things over in his mind as he did his push-ups on the flat
exercise mat that was always in the bedroom he shared with Sylvie. He
was dimly aware of her presence in the room, but his mind was
elsewhere, already thinking about the firmness with which he would
handle the Russians as well as the Chinese. The Chinese, he felt, were
more important than the Russians at this point, and already his lessons
in the most prevalent dialect of the Chinese language were coming along
well. His French was already adequate and his Spanish fluent from the
days when, as a college youth, he took two whole semesters at a Mexican
college where the Mexican girls were particularly attracted to his
blonde hair. He and his buddy of the time had prided themselves in
getting into the most attractive and into the most inaccessible Latin
pussies in the area, a dangerous feat which was nonetheless not without
rewards.
"It's good to have you back, darling," Sylvie's soft voice broke into
his thoughts, and he knew at once that she wanted something. His mind
computer-like, began to sort through the various possibilities. Long
ago he had learned to deal with women, not so much as people, but as
predictable pets who could be counted upon to respond certain ways to
certain stimuli. No one had really taught him this, certainly not his
deceased father, who was nothing but a distant figurehead, always away
at one of his many offices. He had gradually figured it out for
himself, and had noticed from early childhood that his reckoning always
worked with his mother, and then later with the steady procession of
girl friends that came and went like clock-work. There were always
flowers and cards on special occasions for example ... the biggest and
most sentimental that money could buy for Easter, Valentine's Day, St.
Patrick's Day and so on. His pockets were rarely without some little
trinket or other that he had picked up to cheer some female's spirits.
Now that he was married, though, and especially since the beginning of
his senatorial campaign, Tim realized that he had been neglectful of
his pretty blonde wife in more than one way.
"Go look in my coat pocket," he said to her without breaking his 23rd
pushup. He heard the rustle of her gown like small leaves brushing
together as she passed him without speaking on her way to the large
closet that was in essence a separate room. It had doors opening onto
the bedroom and also onto Tim's private dressing room. There, Tim knew
that his valet, Frank, had already brushed and pressed whatever he
might need for the following day, and that the suit coat he had worn
earlier would be waiting to be sent to the cleaners in a separate area
of the closet.
"Look on the cleaning side!" he called to her, his mind still working
on the current problem of his wife. "The left hand pocket!"
A suitable length of time elapsed, and then Sylvie suddenly exclaimed,
"Ooooh ... oh Tim ... it's lovely!"
Tim smiled to himself. He had almost forgotten about the gold bracelet
that he had asked one of the girls to pick up for him during his trip.
He completed his 30th pushup and lay quietly breathing on the mat.
"Like it?" he asked, his head cradled on his arms.
Sylvie swept close to her husband's naked body. His firm hard buttocks
were beautiful, she thought to herself, and his long powerful legs. His
big wide back tapered down to narrow hips with a perfection that Sylvie
had never seen in any other man, even in the photographs of well-known
athletes. The emotion that she had felt during her husband's absence
and the horror of that day on the beach seemed far away now that he was
right there, a living breathing creature in front of her. Everything
would be all right if he would just hold her in his arms she thought
wildly. Impulsively, she flung herself down on top of him, embracing
him from behind and kissing his face lovingly.
"Oh thank you ... thank you my love!" she said. Her warm body pressed
close to him beneath the thin covering of her silk dressing gown. She
was vulnerable and naked beneath it, her body wanting him so badly that
she could hardly stand it.
And Tim knew what she wanted. The pieces fitted together in his head as
he felt her palpitating against him, felt her soft breathing near his
ear. He had only a couple of girls while away from home, nothing much
to speak of either. He remembered the brief scene with Nancy, one of a
multitude of young girls who worked for the general cause. The willing
girl had been more than ready for his lust-hardened cock, but he had no
desire to do more than throw it to her one afternoon in the privacy of
his hotel room. A few well placed and well timed strokes had been fine
as the girl lifted up her skirt revealing the naked hair-lined cunt
that had already known his brother Ron's cock as well as a few of the
other who were along for the trip.
"Hell, it's better than jerking off!" his brother Ron said about such a
girl. The only woman aside from his wife that Tim Cassidy "loved to
fuck" as he put it to himself, was his private secretary, Miss Grayson.
He knew that no one in a million years would suspect that he and the
older woman had such an intimate relationship, and he counted on it
remaining that way. She had been with him since the very early days,
and she would be with him all the way to the White House, he hoped.
Fucking Miss Grayson---a gray-haired widow---was a little like fucking
his own mother, he thought, only better, because Miss Grayson had an
experience and a sensuality that Tim was sure his mother lacked.
Glowing press reports about Thelma Cassidy's flower gardens and love of
the soft feminine things in life to the contrary, all of the Cassidy
brothers knew that their mother was as tough as nails, or as Ron put
it, "Her piss would cut steel!"
Tim laughed easily and turned over on his back, the better to
accommodate his wife's embrace.
"You feeling better now that you have had a little rest?" he asked,
letting his hands roam up under the material of her gown, feeling for
the round warmth of her silky brown breasts. Already his sturdily built
cock was rising to a hard thickness, quivering upward into the air,
ready for action. "Oh ... I missed you, Tim ... How I missed you ...!"
Sylvie cried, sighing as her husband's fingers teased at the sensitive
flesh of her breasts, already feeling the wetness spread between her
legs as he played with her hardened nipples.
"Oh, God!" she thought, "Oh God ... how I love him!"
He rolled playfully over her, and looking at her handsome district
attorney husband, Sylvie recognized the look on his face as one of
sheer lust. A bolt of desire shot through her, as she felt herself
going limp beneath him. His muscular body pressed unceremoniously
against her nakedness as the folds of her dressing gown spread to
reveal her lotioned and pampered body beneath. Already she could feel
his enormous erection as he growled a little, grinding against her,
belly to belly, his hard cock nudging into the softness of her stomach.
Sylvie no longer cared about the long weeks he had neglected her, nor
did she care about the horror of her own actions on the beach two days
before. Her husband's younger brother, Erick, had tormented her
ceaselessly ever since with his lewd remarks every time he saw her. She
was hopelessly compromised where he was concerned, but all that was
distant, and she felt that she could somehow right everything that had
gone wrong now that she was about to feel her forceful husband inside
her, now that she was about to cum and cum again around his rigid cock!
His hands slid up and down her nakedness, moving from her swollen
breasts to her tiny waist, encircling it and fondling the sides of her
womanly hips, feeling the skin of her legs, letting it flow beneath his
running fingers. Her lips sought his, and she forced her tongue upward
as far back into his mouth as it would reach, feeling his lust-expanded
cock growing bigger against her naked belly. Impatiently, she reached
down between their nakedly pressed bodies together to touch it. Her
fingers fumbled toward the hot shaft of Tim's thick penis, and
marveling once more at its size and hardness, Sylvie held it happily in
her hand, her tongue still exploring the far recesses of her husband's
mouth, while his tongue twirled lazily around hers. She squeezed his
rock-hard cock gently, and then pulled the thickness of his foreskin up
over the rounded flesh of the head. Her husband groaned and a wave of
lust spread between them. Shifting and arching her body beneath him,
Sylvie rubbed the softly curling fuzz of her blonde pussy against the
hardened length of Tim's throbbing cock until the blood-red head slid
against the soaking wet split of her yearning pussy. She slowly pulled
her encircling fingers downward and the thick bulbous tip reappeared,
touching the wet pit of the young blonde's neglected cunt.
With sudden decisiveness, Tim moved his hands down, harshly cupping his
wife's full, soft buttocks. With a groan he pulled upwards, lifting her
hips and legs up from the mat. He pulled back to position his swollen
penis so that it would slide into the widespread opening of her waiting
pussy.
Twice Tim's thrusting cock slipped against the sensitive labia
surrounding her upright clitoris, causing the transported blonde to cry
out with pleasure, and then it was pressing surely against the wet
elasticity of her seeping vagina.
Once Sylvie might have insisted they go to bed, but now, Sylvie was so
aroused that she did not care that they were lying on the floor,
nakedly enjoying each other on her husband's exercise mat. All that
mattered was that her husband desired her. With the knowledge of his
love she could do anything, anything at all that he wanted. She would
be the perfect woman, the ideal First Lady, full of charm, wit and
wisdom, steeped in good taste and moved toward good works.
Tim let his pulsing cock worm slowly but surely into the throbbing slit
of his wife's tightly clinging pussy. God, she was tight! Once more he
congratulated himself on his choice of Sylvie as a wife. His brothers
and his mother had expressed doubts, and sometimes she seemed a little
too independent, but Sylvie would work out, of that he was sure. He
hadn't so much thought about his love for her as about her satisfactory
qualities for the wife of a politician. A small town girl, she would
appeal to all of middle America, despite her patrician looks, which
would appeal to the city sophisticates as well as to other countries.
She was a natural, and Tim knew that he would have to look long and
hard to find another like her. Finding another was out of the question
anyway. The country had not advanced so much that it would accept a
divorced President, and so far as he was concerned, Sylvie was his, to
be with him for life.
"Got to remember to fuck her more," he thought, as he felt her moaning
beneath him. The length of his cock slid with excruciating slowness
into the hot clasping channel of her hair-lined cunt. It was good! Very
good! He looked down at her as his cock head burrowed hard against the
far end of her pussy. Her mouth hung open, as, eyes closed, she groaned
out his name, her heels kicking, legs twitching upward around his back.
Three, four times, he thrust into the clutching cunt that sucked
fiercely upon his slowly pistoning cock. He wanted fucking, yes, but
something else was occurring to him. He had meant to break Sylvie in
before now to something that he liked very much to have done, and now
was as good a time as any. She was a fast learner anyway, and he was
sure she would get the hang of it.
"Do something for me sweetie ..." he whispered into her ear, letting
his impaling cock twitch deep inside her straining depths. She was on
the very verge of cumming, so gloriously that she could feel tears
starting from her eyes.
"Anything, darling, anything!" she cried.
"Suck me ..." he said.
"What?" To her surprise, Tim was pulling out of her. Everything inside
her tried to cling to the hard shaft of his cock, tried to get it back
inside her straining pussy. She blinked, in the space of a second Tim
had positioned himself so that his strong thighs were straddling her
torso. Before her big blue eyes hung two large and hairy testicles
suspended below her husband's rampant cock. It bobbed obscenely before
her eyes, actually striking her on the nose, something she would have
thought ludicrous had not the situation been so tragic.
"I ... I ... was almost ..." Her words were strangled as the cleft
shape of Tim's glistening cock-head plugged between her deep pink lips.
Revulsion at what she realized was the taste of her own inner fluids,
made her thrash out wildly, trying to lift him off of her, but he was
firmly ensconced upon her helplessly naked body, his widespread thighs
spreading on each side of her as he balanced himself up to enable his
lust-inspired penis to enter her unwillingly parted lips.
Many times before, Tim had hinted that he would like to have her do
this, and she told him that one day she would, always hedging and
putting it off to the future. Little had she dreamed that tonight would
be the time he would ask her to pay off. It was the worst time possible
for him to do this to her ... she thought, hysteria mounting swiftly
within her. It was utterly and totally depraved of him to ask such a
thing of her, when he hadn't even touched her in weeks!
Instead of feeling her husband's bloated cock striking at the very
center of her being, quelling the hunger she felt high up in her moist
cunt, the moist tip of his penis was pushing inward against her
clenched teeth, and his fingers were squeezing at her cheeks, forcing
her to open her mouth.
"Come on, honey," his voice cajoled, but his fingers were hard and
unloving as they pushed against her cheeks, and finally made her open
her mouth wide. The entire knobby head quivered inward straining
Sylvie's mouth wider as the full shaft began to slide toward the rear
of her oral cavity. Quickly, Sylvie swallowed while she was still able,
and then she began to gag as its bulk cut off her breathing passages.
He withdrew the slightest bit, and she began to gulp for air in
desperation.
She was caught in a nightmarish situation where she could feel her
husband's lean buttocks against the tips of her breasts every time he
gave a jiggle downward ... but he never let his full weight down on her
as he held this obscene position, for he was completely comfortable,
and he started fucking in and out of her mouth with smooth, even
strokes. Her nipples began to itch and swell, and she felt a tingling
on her lips where the heated length of her husband's cock glided past.
Surprisingly, his cock began to feel pleasantly warm inside her mouth,
and when it struck hard toward the back of her throat, she started to
groan with pleasure. There was still a chance that she would feel him
like this! Inside her inflamed pussy!
Perhaps if she could satisfy his more unusual sexual desires, he would
want to make love to her more often, she thought, the glimmer of hope
spreading still more desire through her young neglected loins.
She could hear the young politician's voice coming from what seemed
like a great distance, egging her on with urgent requests that she
continue. Frantically, caught up in the rhythm of his lilting lust, she
began to twist her hips upward, hoping to attain some satisfaction in
the area of her abandoned pussy, but there was nothing to rub against.
She began to rub her sleek thighs together compulsively, squeezing the
swollen tissues of her drenched pussy together while her wide-spread
mouth continued to receive the brunt of her husband's fucking cock.
She wanted to scream out to him, to beg him to take her then and there,
to tell him she had to cum or she would die! One long hard thrust of
his magnificently rock-hard cock would do it ... just one, and she
would be there!
Her entire body begged for relief as her back arched high from the mat,
her firm full breasts nudging upward against Tim's obscenely gyrating
buttocks while his engorged cock expanded a little more each time it
entered her mouth, stretching and pulling against its own taut skin.
Tim was getting more and more excited, especially since it seemed to
him that his lady-like young wife was really enjoying sucking him off!
And what was more she was good at it! Those soft full lips of hers
created a buffering cushion each time he advanced and withdrew into the
moist depths of her mouth, and there seemed to be just the right amount
of space inside there for his pistoning cock, unlike many women he had
known who just didn't seem to have any place for him to put his cock
once he got beyond their teeth!
"SUCK IT... SUCK IT SYLVIE!" he cried, beginning to pant heavily, as
the hardness of his tingling cock thudded against the back of his
blonde wife's mouth.
He could feel her tongue flattened on the under side of it, and from
time to time her teeth would lightly scrape the tightness of the shaft.
He held onto her head as he bucked steadily forward, digging his
fingers through her long thick hair. Then he allowed his tormented
penis to pull completely out of his wife's strained mouth, only to
plunge back in again to the hilt, his balls swinging lewdly against the
underside of her chin. He thought about fucking in her mouth like this
in the White House, maybe right on the floor of his office one night
after everyone had gone; and the thought made him know that he was
going to cream into her mouth any second.
The large firm mounds of Sylvie's jiggling breasts felt good poking
upward against his buttocks and the whole thing just felt too good to
stop. Every sinew of his body was tense and he felt his thighs
trembling from the strain of kneeling like that for such a long time.
Perspiration from his head and chest flowed down onto Sylvie's besieged
face and the tendons in Tim's neck stood out tautly. The wet sounds of
his sluicing cock at the depths of her mouth combined with both of
their grunts and filled the sanctuary of their bedroom.
"OH CHRIST!" he grunted. It was starting It was coming faster than he
had thought, wrenching mindless, building pleasure from a sacred spot
hidden somewhere inside his loins. His swinging testicles lurched,
releasing their speeding sperm in a crazy zig-zagging journey through
his jerking, pumping cock. He started fucking harder into her mouth,
unmindful of the gagging sounds that Sylvie was making. He could only
listen to his own inner turmoil, the convulsive climax that took hold
of him, spinning him around and making him cry out with its acute
bombshell of sensation
"AAAAA ... AAAAAAAARRRRNNNGHH!" His hands tangled in Sylvie's long
blonde hair as he cupped them underneath her head bringing her mouth
forward to meet the stream of his semen. He held her pinned against his
exploding cock, feeling his jism striking against the roof of her mouth
filling it and strangling the gurgling sounds of distress that were
coming from her throat. "NNNNNNNNGHHHHHNMPHF!" As the last dregs of the
startlingly acute pleasure waned and his rapidly deflating penis began
to slide from Sylvie's slack mouth, Tim rested his haunches wearily
upon her chest for a moment.
"AAAAHHHH ... NO TIM, PLEASE, YOU'RE HURTING ME!" Sylvie cried, at last
free to speak.
Tim was smiling benignly as he lifted himself from his wife's sweat
glistening nakedness. He rolled happily to the side of her and then
clambered up. He stood a second, beaming down at her, his naked
genitals all out of proportion to her eyes as she looked up at him.
"That was great, really GREAT, Sylvie!" he exclaimed. "I'll make it up
to you tomorrow night ..." He turned and headed toward the shower
again, already thinking about the next day's work. He would have to be
up at the office in Grandville by about 7 in order to take care of the
many things awaiting him there, and then he was expected at his
mother's for lunch. A fund dinner was being given for him in town that
evening and at $100 a plate he hoped that his brother Ron had already
worked up a doozey of a speech.
The hot shower pelted down on his deeply tanned skin spreading a sense
of warmth and well being to the very marrow of his bones.
"AH! It is so good to be alive!" he thought.
Sylvie lay stunned on her husbands exercise mat for a few moments,
tasting the salty bitterness of his semen on her tongue and in her
throat. And then she slowly got up, dazed and bedraggled she moved
slowly toward her private bathroom and dressing room. She could still
feel the maddening tingling in her loins that signaled her complete
frustration and her mouth and jaws felt sore and worn. Suddenly hatred
for the man she had married filled her every pore, as trembling with
rage and sorrow, she stepped into the shower and turned on the cold
water jets full blast. She knew better than to count on Tim's promise
of reciprocation the following night. Bitterly, she realized that such
words of hope from her politician husband were like so many campaign
promises.
"A lot of hot air!"
"Please faster your seat belts. We are about to land at Grandview
Airport. Please observe the no smoking sign, and remain in your seats
until Captain Carson has brought the plane to a complete stop. We thank
you for flying with Columbia and hope to have the pleasure of seeing
you again." There followed a strident noise as the stewardess did
something wrong with her speaker and then finally got it turned off
correctly.
It was only the second time that Arlene Pickering had flown in an
airplane, and she wondered if she would be doing a lot of traveling now
that she was going to stay with her cousin Sylvie in her big house by
the shore just outside of Grandville.
Sylvie had often mentioned in her letters the possibility of Arlene's
coming to help with the management of the large sprawling "Cassidy
Family Meeting House," but Arlene had carefully guarded herself from
believing that one day it might come true. It seemed too much to hope
for that she would really leave the small town of Tillings where both
she and Sylvie had been brought up together to circulate in the
exciting world of Ton Cassidy and his family! Yet there she was now,
about to do just that, and the attractive 26 year old brunette could
hardly contain the mounting nervousness and excitement that she felt.
When she had gotten Sylvie's call two days before, she had been only
too glad to reply that, yes, she could "drop everythin'," as Sylvie had
put it and fly to Grandville immediately to take up her new duties.
Sylvie had sounded quite different and very serious on the phone ...
unlike the laughing carefree girl Arlene had grown up with. But Arlene
understood that it was probably quite a job to take care of all the
things Sylvie did, and she was only too glad to go and help out.
Arlene looked out of the window as the airplane started its steep
descent toward the airport of the capitol city of the State. Sylvie's
words rang in her head as she looked at the tall buildings rising in
the distance ... and there further on the extending shoreline where she
would soon be living with her cousin and the Cassidys.
"I must have somebody close to me whom I can trust!" she'd said. "If
you could just manage the house and the servants, I would be ever so
grateful!"
Arlene recalled with some pleasure how shocked Sylvie's father had been
when she had told him she would no longer be working at the department
store. Max Pickering was more than an uncle to her, he had been really
more like a father for she had been raised along with Sylvie after her
father had died. Sylvie's mother had been a gentle mother to both girls
but now she too was gone, and only the old man remained.
Nice as he was, Arlene nonetheless was happy to get away from the
stifling influence of the small town and especially the small
specialized world of the department store. Arlene hoped that she would
never have to spend more than five minutes within the wall of the three
storied building again.
The plane touched down, and Arlene felt thrilled as her body was
pressed against the seat and the plane raced down the runway. She was
conscious and critical of her entire body, going over in her mind once
more the other choices she might have made as to what to wear for her
initial arrival at her cousin's house. A soft beige linen-type suit was
what she was wearing, its length just below her knees as the latest
fashions seemed to indicate, although she wasn't quite sure at all,
since the other women on the plane all seemed to be wearing short
skirts as though there had been no drop in the hem-line at all. If
necessary, she decided, she would pull her skirt up to her waist; after
all, her legs were one of her best features, she knew, and she did not
mind showing them off.
Her long dark brown hair was pulled back into a cool knot behind her
head, and Arlene knew that her complexion would withstand the most
rigorous scrutiny. And she was good looking and she knew it. If she had
her way, she might have made her chin just a bit less prominent, but as
it was it gave her face a strength of character that matched that which
she had inside her. Arlene was strong willed and knew that she would be
able to get what she wanted in life if given the right chances. Well,
Sylvie was giving her a chance right now. "This is it!" she told
herself fiercely, as the plane taxied to a halt. She was out in the
real world at last.
Her heart was thumping as she began to shuffle toward the exit of the
plane with the other passengers. There was only one thing that bothered
her. How would she react to such close proximity to him? She had tried
to get over it, reminding herself that her long-time crush on the young
district attorney, Tim Cassidy, was just that ... a schoolgirl crush,
based on newspaper clippings and the TV. It had been going on long
before Sylvie went to Grandville to work for him, and then a year later
married him! Arlene had met him only once at the wedding, and then she
had been so overwhelmed, so touched by her cousin's great happiness and
good fortune that she had no room for jealousy in her heart.
She still felt that way really, but the strength of her crush on Tim
Cassidy was still in full force and she could not help worrying. Would
her lips tremble where she spoke to him? Would her voice break?
She would have to do her very best to control her feelings and to get
over her silly and childish emotions!
She emerged from the plane in her turn, blinking and squinting in the
harsh autumn sunlight. Were her cousin and her famous husband standing
somewhere across the field in that group of people watching her at that
very moment? The thought made her feel momentarily faint, and she
almost tripped upon the metal stairs that descended from the airplane.
She felt herself being caught by a pair of strong hands, and as she
turned, an intimate link had been forged between her and the stranger
behind her.
"Are you all right?" he inquired, looking at her intently. His hands
were warm and secure upon her arms and she felt undeniably weak, in
fact in need of his reassuring presence. But, she assured the handsome
man who had been a passenger on the same plane that she was fine, and
with some difficulty she turned away from him, after saying thank you,
thereby letting him know that she had nothing further to say.
The incident was unsettling, and Arlene sensed an unprecedented turmoil
within herself, a turmoil that this small event had pointed out to her,
showing her in a way that there was some weak spot within her that made
her susceptible. She did not want to admit what she considered to be a
failing within herself, however, and as she walked briskly toward the
waiting crowd at the terminal, she readied her most self-assured smile.
She was after all the girl who knew her own mind, who had turned down
more than one proposal back in Tillings. Offers of marriage from young
men that other girls in town would give anything to get their hands on,
but who were lacking in Arlene's critical eye. Why get married right
off the bat to some know-nothing small town boy? All this time she had
been saving up to go to Grandville, where she had planned on getting
herself a luxurious apartment followed by a job, any job at all, she
would be able to coast on her savings, and she had counted on her
cousin Sylvie's help in introducing her to some really eligible men.
Now of course all that was changed, and for the better. Arlene would
soon be meeting more of the right people than she had ever dreamed, and
life was going to be full of adventure from now on in!
A brisk young woman greeted Arlene and led her through the crowd of
milling people into the airport. Together, they waited for the baggage
to descend from a moving ramp and when Arlene's new leather suitcase
appeared, the woman arranged for a porter to carry it outside the
modern terminal building to a waiting limousine.
The woman had introduced herself as Sylvie's secretary, and Arlene was
so impressed that she was speechless. She had forgotten just what great
status her little cousin Sylvie had these days, and her heart thumped
loudly as she spotted the ominous looking limousine with its drawn
curtains. She and the secretary were ushered in by a politely smiling
chauffeur and there in the womb like interior of the big Chrysler,
Arlene came face to face with her cousin. The two women embraced and
Arlene was surprised to see tears come to Sylvie's eyes as the
limousine started up without so much as a jerk.
In fact, the elegant young woman who sat next to her in the comfortable
posh cushions of the back seat, bore little resemblance to the
outgoing, happy-go-lucky girl who had been like a sister to her. Her
features seemed pale and drawn, and although the younger girl had
replaced her sunglasses, Arlene thought that she looked as if she had
been crying a great deal. Perhaps it was her imagination, though she
couldn't be sure. But Sylvie's whole manner was nervous and withdrawn,
despite her exclamation of joy at seeing her older cousin again.
"You have no idea how glad I am that you're here," Sylvie told her as
they whizzed through the outskirts of Grandville. They had stopped to
let Sylvie's secretary off at the downtown campaign offices where she
worked answering the multitude of mail that had been pouring in
addressed to Mrs. Tim Cassidy, and where she organized Sylvie's
speaking schedule and acted as intermediary between her and the press;
and now the two cousins were alone in the vast back seat of the
speeding car, separated from the chauffeur by a glass partition.
"I'm ready to start helping right away!" Arlene said eagerly, wondering
just where her secret idol, her cousin's husband, was at the moment.
As though reading her mind, Sylvie gazed absentmindedly out the window
and said, "Tim returns to the house tonight." She paused and then
continued, "You'll soon see that no one of us is quite like ourselves.
Campaigning is a dreadfully wearing business. It changes everything.
There is little time for leading any real kind of life."
Her cousin looked so sad that Arlene reached out and took her hand.
"Poor Sylvie ... Well now I'm here and I never was one to shun hard
work ... you know that!"
* * *
It was after midnight when Arlene lay totally naked, extended in the
warmth of her bed. It was an old four poster, but the firm, comfortable
mattress was quite modern. Her head was whirling not only from the
extensive amount of wine she had had at dinner, but from the events of
the evening.
Tim Cassidy had indeed returned from his upstate swing, and instead of
looking fatigued, had appeared at the peak of his forces. The energy
that emanated from the man was astounding. Arlene had been overwhelmed
by his warmth as he greeted her with enthusiasm and welcomed her to the
household.
"Great!" he declared, winking at her in a cheerful manner that
nonetheless made Arlene feel a little thrill of excitement coursing
across her skin. She could still feel the goose-bumps!
"Sylvie needs someone around that is close to her. You look like a very
capable young woman!"
Arlene had stammered some kind of reply and then the other brothers
were talking to her, Ron and Erick, asking about her trip and generally
making her feel a part of the family.
At dinner, which was served late around 9:00 P.M., Arlene was beginning
to wonder just where all the stress and strain was that her cousin had
been talking about, and as she observed the beautifully gowned and
coifed Sylvie, she wondered why she always seemed to be holding back
... never joining in the general good humor that circulated at the
table. There were no other guests at dinner, something that Sylvie told
her was rather unusual, so Arlene had ample time to get to know the two
brothers as well as Tim himself. Ron seemed a serious sort, and Arlene
could see that he was the perfect person to mount his older brother's
campaign for him to reach the Senate. His words were brisk and clipped
as he summarized for the table what goals had been accomplished during
the trip they had just completed, and what obstacles lay ahead for the
Senator-to-be in the next few weeks.
His resemblance to Tim Cassidy was striking, but there was a hard edge
to his features that Tim did not have. Tim's looks were a perfect
combination of sensitivity and determination that gave him a completely
trustworthy appearance. As for the younger brother, Arlene liked him
the least of all, and his features, though of the same intelligent cut
as his older brother's, were somewhat softer, more baby-like. Arlene
supposed that it must be hard being the youngest of two such dynamic
brothers as Tim and Ron, and feeling in a congenial mood, she drank
more wine as it was offered to her and listened with all ears to each
word that came from Tim Cassidy's lips.
Now, nakedly curling up into a ball beneath the light weight blanket
that covered her bed, Arlene could still hear his deep voice, as she
played back his words in her head, like a phonograph record. In spite
of herself, she felt a twinge of jealousy rising inside her as she
thought of her lucky younger cousin. Now a few doors away with her
husband ... all by themselves. "He's been away for a few days," Arlene
thought, "they'll be making love, no doubt!"
She tried to put the thought out of her mind, knowing that she ought
not to be thinking of such strange things, but it kept coming back.
"It's the wine," she thought, "that's making me think such things!"
Arlene had never thought of herself as a very sensual person, in fact
with the various boy friends she had had thus far, she was always ready
to assert that she could "take sex or leave it alone." She had always
suspected though that none of them had been able to excite her... to
arouse her sufficiently to make her crave their intimate embraces.
Someone like Tim Cassidy, though, she began to muse ... someone like
that would know how ... She did not complete the thought, but suddenly
she envied her 24 year old cousin terribly, visualizing the young
blonde woman, locked against the naked body of her blonde husband. The
two of them looked more like brother and sister than man and wife,
Arlene thought, automatically comparing her own dark beauty to Tim's
fairness.
"Oh stop it!" she told herself sternly, but Arlene's large soft breasts
were already filled with longing as the big round nipples contracted to
a tense hardness, and her whole being felt a readiness, a ripeness that
pushed rational thinking from her head.
"What would it feel like to feel him on top of me ... to spread my legs
beneath him ... to let him enter, hard and strong, filling me ...
taking me?"
The tall brunette turned over on her back in bed. She spread her bare
legs out, separating her long statuesque thighs so that the fur-trimmed
lips of her dark curly pussy were parted, and breathing slowly, she
imagined herself in her younger cousin's place. In bed with Tim
Cassidy!
* * *
Tim emerged from the steam of his shower, and after drying himself off,
strode naked into the room. He was proud of his body with its lean
hardness that he had cultivated ever since he was a youth at college.
Now he was 36, and he knew that if he wanted to keep on looking that
way, he must continue the rigorous exercises that he did whenever he
got a chance. He was still elated by the way things had gone on his
trip in spite of his wife's unwillingness to go along. He was almost
certain that he would win the race for the Senate, and once there,
nothing could stop him in his quest for the presidency. He was mulling
these things over in his mind as he did his push-ups on the flat
exercise mat that was always in the bedroom he shared with Sylvie. He
was dimly aware of her presence in the room, but his mind was
elsewhere, already thinking about the firmness with which he would
handle the Russians as well as the Chinese. The Chinese, he felt, were
more important than the Russians at this point, and already his lessons
in the most prevalent dialect of the Chinese language were coming along
well. His French was already adequate and his Spanish fluent from the
days when, as a college youth, he took two whole semesters at a Mexican
college where the Mexican girls were particularly attracted to his
blonde hair. He and his buddy of the time had prided themselves in
getting into the most attractive and into the most inaccessible Latin
pussies in the area, a dangerous feat which was nonetheless not without
rewards.
"It's good to have you back, darling," Sylvie's soft voice broke into
his thoughts, and he knew at once that she wanted something. His mind
computer-like, began to sort through the various possibilities. Long
ago he had learned to deal with women, not so much as people, but as
predictable pets who could be counted upon to respond certain ways to
certain stimuli. No one had really taught him this, certainly not his
deceased father, who was nothing but a distant figurehead, always away
at one of his many offices. He had gradually figured it out for
himself, and had noticed from early childhood that his reckoning always
worked with his mother, and then later with the steady procession of
girl friends that came and went like clock-work. There were always
flowers and cards on special occasions for example ... the biggest and
most sentimental that money could buy for Easter, Valentine's Day, St.
Patrick's Day and so on. His pockets were rarely without some little
trinket or other that he had picked up to cheer some female's spirits.
Now that he was married, though, and especially since the beginning of
his senatorial campaign, Tim realized that he had been neglectful of
his pretty blonde wife in more than one way.
"Go look in my coat pocket," he said to her without breaking his 23rd
pushup. He heard the rustle of her gown like small leaves brushing
together as she passed him without speaking on her way to the large
closet that was in essence a separate room. It had doors opening onto
the bedroom and also onto Tim's private dressing room. There, Tim knew
that his valet, Frank, had already brushed and pressed whatever he
might need for the following day, and that the suit coat he had worn
earlier would be waiting to be sent to the cleaners in a separate area
of the closet.
"Look on the cleaning side!" he called to her, his mind still working
on the current problem of his wife. "The left hand pocket!"
A suitable length of time elapsed, and then Sylvie suddenly exclaimed,
"Ooooh ... oh Tim ... it's lovely!"
Tim smiled to himself. He had almost forgotten about the gold bracelet
that he had asked one of the girls to pick up for him during his trip.
He completed his 30th pushup and lay quietly breathing on the mat.
"Like it?" he asked, his head cradled on his arms.
Sylvie swept close to her husband's naked body. His firm hard buttocks
were beautiful, she thought to herself, and his long powerful legs. His
big wide back tapered down to narrow hips with a perfection that Sylvie
had never seen in any other man, even in the photographs of well-known
athletes. The emotion that she had felt during her husband's absence
and the horror of that day on the beach seemed far away now that he was
right there, a living breathing creature in front of her. Everything
would be all right if he would just hold her in his arms she thought
wildly. Impulsively, she flung herself down on top of him, embracing
him from behind and kissing his face lovingly.
"Oh thank you ... thank you my love!" she said. Her warm body pressed
close to him beneath the thin covering of her silk dressing gown. She
was vulnerable and naked beneath it, her body wanting him so badly that
she could hardly stand it.
And Tim knew what she wanted. The pieces fitted together in his head as
he felt her palpitating against him, felt her soft breathing near his
ear. He had only a couple of girls while away from home, nothing much
to speak of either. He remembered the brief scene with Nancy, one of a
multitude of young girls who worked for the general cause. The willing
girl had been more than ready for his lust-hardened cock, but he had no
desire to do more than throw it to her one afternoon in the privacy of
his hotel room. A few well placed and well timed strokes had been fine
as the girl lifted up her skirt revealing the naked hair-lined cunt
that had already known his brother Ron's cock as well as a few of the
other who were along for the trip.
"Hell, it's better than jerking off!" his brother Ron said about such a
girl. The only woman aside from his wife that Tim Cassidy "loved to
fuck" as he put it to himself, was his private secretary, Miss Grayson.
He knew that no one in a million years would suspect that he and the
older woman had such an intimate relationship, and he counted on it
remaining that way. She had been with him since the very early days,
and she would be with him all the way to the White House, he hoped.
Fucking Miss Grayson---a gray-haired widow---was a little like fucking
his own mother, he thought, only better, because Miss Grayson had an
experience and a sensuality that Tim was sure his mother lacked.
Glowing press reports about Thelma Cassidy's flower gardens and love of
the soft feminine things in life to the contrary, all of the Cassidy
brothers knew that their mother was as tough as nails, or as Ron put
it, "Her piss would cut steel!"
Tim laughed easily and turned over on his back, the better to
accommodate his wife's embrace.
"You feeling better now that you have had a little rest?" he asked,
letting his hands roam up under the material of her gown, feeling for
the round warmth of her silky brown breasts. Already his sturdily built
cock was rising to a hard thickness, quivering upward into the air,
ready for action. "Oh ... I missed you, Tim ... How I missed you ...!"
Sylvie cried, sighing as her husband's fingers teased at the sensitive
flesh of her breasts, already feeling the wetness spread between her
legs as he played with her hardened nipples.
"Oh, God!" she thought, "Oh God ... how I love him!"
He rolled playfully over her, and looking at her handsome district
attorney husband, Sylvie recognized the look on his face as one of
sheer lust. A bolt of desire shot through her, as she felt herself
going limp beneath him. His muscular body pressed unceremoniously
against her nakedness as the folds of her dressing gown spread to
reveal her lotioned and pampered body beneath. Already she could feel
his enormous erection as he growled a little, grinding against her,
belly to belly, his hard cock nudging into the softness of her stomach.
Sylvie no longer cared about the long weeks he had neglected her, nor
did she care about the horror of her own actions on the beach two days
before. Her husband's younger brother, Erick, had tormented her
ceaselessly ever since with his lewd remarks every time he saw her. She
was hopelessly compromised where he was concerned, but all that was
distant, and she felt that she could somehow right everything that had
gone wrong now that she was about to feel her forceful husband inside
her, now that she was about to cum and cum again around his rigid cock!
His hands slid up and down her nakedness, moving from her swollen
breasts to her tiny waist, encircling it and fondling the sides of her
womanly hips, feeling the skin of her legs, letting it flow beneath his
running fingers. Her lips sought his, and she forced her tongue upward
as far back into his mouth as it would reach, feeling his lust-expanded
cock growing bigger against her naked belly. Impatiently, she reached
down between their nakedly pressed bodies together to touch it. Her
fingers fumbled toward the hot shaft of Tim's thick penis, and
marveling once more at its size and hardness, Sylvie held it happily in
her hand, her tongue still exploring the far recesses of her husband's
mouth, while his tongue twirled lazily around hers. She squeezed his
rock-hard cock gently, and then pulled the thickness of his foreskin up
over the rounded flesh of the head. Her husband groaned and a wave of
lust spread between them. Shifting and arching her body beneath him,
Sylvie rubbed the softly curling fuzz of her blonde pussy against the
hardened length of Tim's throbbing cock until the blood-red head slid
against the soaking wet split of her yearning pussy. She slowly pulled
her encircling fingers downward and the thick bulbous tip reappeared,
touching the wet pit of the young blonde's neglected cunt.
With sudden decisiveness, Tim moved his hands down, harshly cupping his
wife's full, soft buttocks. With a groan he pulled upwards, lifting her
hips and legs up from the mat. He pulled back to position his swollen
penis so that it would slide into the widespread opening of her waiting
pussy.
Twice Tim's thrusting cock slipped against the sensitive labia
surrounding her upright clitoris, causing the transported blonde to cry
out with pleasure, and then it was pressing surely against the wet
elasticity of her seeping vagina.
Once Sylvie might have insisted they go to bed, but now, Sylvie was so
aroused that she did not care that they were lying on the floor,
nakedly enjoying each other on her husband's exercise mat. All that
mattered was that her husband desired her. With the knowledge of his
love she could do anything, anything at all that he wanted. She would
be the perfect woman, the ideal First Lady, full of charm, wit and
wisdom, steeped in good taste and moved toward good works.
Tim let his pulsing cock worm slowly but surely into the throbbing slit
of his wife's tightly clinging pussy. God, she was tight! Once more he
congratulated himself on his choice of Sylvie as a wife. His brothers
and his mother had expressed doubts, and sometimes she seemed a little
too independent, but Sylvie would work out, of that he was sure. He
hadn't so much thought about his love for her as about her satisfactory
qualities for the wife of a politician. A small town girl, she would
appeal to all of middle America, despite her patrician looks, which
would appeal to the city sophisticates as well as to other countries.
She was a natural, and Tim knew that he would have to look long and
hard to find another like her. Finding another was out of the question
anyway. The country had not advanced so much that it would accept a
divorced President, and so far as he was concerned, Sylvie was his, to
be with him for life.
"Got to remember to fuck her more," he thought, as he felt her moaning
beneath him. The length of his cock slid with excruciating slowness
into the hot clasping channel of her hair-lined cunt. It was good! Very
good! He looked down at her as his cock head burrowed hard against the
far end of her pussy. Her mouth hung open, as, eyes closed, she groaned
out his name, her heels kicking, legs twitching upward around his back.
Three, four times, he thrust into the clutching cunt that sucked
fiercely upon his slowly pistoning cock. He wanted fucking, yes, but
something else was occurring to him. He had meant to break Sylvie in
before now to something that he liked very much to have done, and now
was as good a time as any. She was a fast learner anyway, and he was
sure she would get the hang of it.
"Do something for me sweetie ..." he whispered into her ear, letting
his impaling cock twitch deep inside her straining depths. She was on
the very verge of cumming, so gloriously that she could feel tears
starting from her eyes.
"Anything, darling, anything!" she cried.
"Suck me ..." he said.
"What?" To her surprise, Tim was pulling out of her. Everything inside
her tried to cling to the hard shaft of his cock, tried to get it back
inside her straining pussy. She blinked, in the space of a second Tim
had positioned himself so that his strong thighs were straddling her
torso. Before her big blue eyes hung two large and hairy testicles
suspended below her husband's rampant cock. It bobbed obscenely before
her eyes, actually striking her on the nose, something she would have
thought ludicrous had not the situation been so tragic.
"I ... I ... was almost ..." Her words were strangled as the cleft
shape of Tim's glistening cock-head plugged between her deep pink lips.
Revulsion at what she realized was the taste of her own inner fluids,
made her thrash out wildly, trying to lift him off of her, but he was
firmly ensconced upon her helplessly naked body, his widespread thighs
spreading on each side of her as he balanced himself up to enable his
lust-inspired penis to enter her unwillingly parted lips.
Many times before, Tim had hinted that he would like to have her do
this, and she told him that one day she would, always hedging and
putting it off to the future. Little had she dreamed that tonight would
be the time he would ask her to pay off. It was the worst time possible
for him to do this to her ... she thought, hysteria mounting swiftly
within her. It was utterly and totally depraved of him to ask such a
thing of her, when he hadn't even touched her in weeks!
Instead of feeling her husband's bloated cock striking at the very
center of her being, quelling the hunger she felt high up in her moist
cunt, the moist tip of his penis was pushing inward against her
clenched teeth, and his fingers were squeezing at her cheeks, forcing
her to open her mouth.
"Come on, honey," his voice cajoled, but his fingers were hard and
unloving as they pushed against her cheeks, and finally made her open
her mouth wide. The entire knobby head quivered inward straining
Sylvie's mouth wider as the full shaft began to slide toward the rear
of her oral cavity. Quickly, Sylvie swallowed while she was still able,
and then she began to gag as its bulk cut off her breathing passages.
He withdrew the slightest bit, and she began to gulp for air in
desperation.
She was caught in a nightmarish situation where she could feel her
husband's lean buttocks against the tips of her breasts every time he
gave a jiggle downward ... but he never let his full weight down on her
as he held this obscene position, for he was completely comfortable,
and he started fucking in and out of her mouth with smooth, even
strokes. Her nipples began to itch and swell, and she felt a tingling
on her lips where the heated length of her husband's cock glided past.
Surprisingly, his cock began to feel pleasantly warm inside her mouth,
and when it struck hard toward the back of her throat, she started to
groan with pleasure. There was still a chance that she would feel him
like this! Inside her inflamed pussy!
Perhaps if she could satisfy his more unusual sexual desires, he would
want to make love to her more often, she thought, the glimmer of hope
spreading still more desire through her young neglected loins.
She could hear the young politician's voice coming from what seemed
like a great distance, egging her on with urgent requests that she
continue. Frantically, caught up in the rhythm of his lilting lust, she
began to twist her hips upward, hoping to attain some satisfaction in
the area of her abandoned pussy, but there was nothing to rub against.
She began to rub her sleek thighs together compulsively, squeezing the
swollen tissues of her drenched pussy together while her wide-spread
mouth continued to receive the brunt of her husband's fucking cock.
She wanted to scream out to him, to beg him to take her then and there,
to tell him she had to cum or she would die! One long hard thrust of
his magnificently rock-hard cock would do it ... just one, and she
would be there!
Her entire body begged for relief as her back arched high from the mat,
her firm full breasts nudging upward against Tim's obscenely gyrating
buttocks while his engorged cock expanded a little more each time it
entered her mouth, stretching and pulling against its own taut skin.
Tim was getting more and more excited, especially since it seemed to
him that his lady-like young wife was really enjoying sucking him off!
And what was more she was good at it! Those soft full lips of hers
created a buffering cushion each time he advanced and withdrew into the
moist depths of her mouth, and there seemed to be just the right amount
of space inside there for his pistoning cock, unlike many women he had
known who just didn't seem to have any place for him to put his cock
once he got beyond their teeth!
"SUCK IT... SUCK IT SYLVIE!" he cried, beginning to pant heavily, as
the hardness of his tingling cock thudded against the back of his
blonde wife's mouth.
He could feel her tongue flattened on the under side of it, and from
time to time her teeth would lightly scrape the tightness of the shaft.
He held onto her head as he bucked steadily forward, digging his
fingers through her long thick hair. Then he allowed his tormented
penis to pull completely out of his wife's strained mouth, only to
plunge back in again to the hilt, his balls swinging lewdly against the
underside of her chin. He thought about fucking in her mouth like this
in the White House, maybe right on the floor of his office one night
after everyone had gone; and the thought made him know that he was
going to cream into her mouth any second.
The large firm mounds of Sylvie's jiggling breasts felt good poking
upward against his buttocks and the whole thing just felt too good to
stop. Every sinew of his body was tense and he felt his thighs
trembling from the strain of kneeling like that for such a long time.
Perspiration from his head and chest flowed down onto Sylvie's besieged
face and the tendons in Tim's neck stood out tautly. The wet sounds of
his sluicing cock at the depths of her mouth combined with both of
their grunts and filled the sanctuary of their bedroom.
"OH CHRIST!" he grunted. It was starting It was coming faster than he
had thought, wrenching mindless, building pleasure from a sacred spot
hidden somewhere inside his loins. His swinging testicles lurched,
releasing their speeding sperm in a crazy zig-zagging journey through
his jerking, pumping cock. He started fucking harder into her mouth,
unmindful of the gagging sounds that Sylvie was making. He could only
listen to his own inner turmoil, the convulsive climax that took hold
of him, spinning him around and making him cry out with its acute
bombshell of sensation
"AAAAA ... AAAAAAAARRRRNNNGHH!" His hands tangled in Sylvie's long
blonde hair as he cupped them underneath her head bringing her mouth
forward to meet the stream of his semen. He held her pinned against his
exploding cock, feeling his jism striking against the roof of her mouth
filling it and strangling the gurgling sounds of distress that were
coming from her throat. "NNNNNNNNGHHHHHNMPHF!" As the last dregs of the
startlingly acute pleasure waned and his rapidly deflating penis began
to slide from Sylvie's slack mouth, Tim rested his haunches wearily
upon her chest for a moment.
"AAAAHHHH ... NO TIM, PLEASE, YOU'RE HURTING ME!" Sylvie cried, at last
free to speak.
Tim was smiling benignly as he lifted himself from his wife's sweat
glistening nakedness. He rolled happily to the side of her and then
clambered up. He stood a second, beaming down at her, his naked
genitals all out of proportion to her eyes as she looked up at him.
"That was great, really GREAT, Sylvie!" he exclaimed. "I'll make it up
to you tomorrow night ..." He turned and headed toward the shower
again, already thinking about the next day's work. He would have to be
up at the office in Grandville by about 7 in order to take care of the
many things awaiting him there, and then he was expected at his
mother's for lunch. A fund dinner was being given for him in town that
evening and at $100 a plate he hoped that his brother Ron had already
worked up a doozey of a speech.
The hot shower pelted down on his deeply tanned skin spreading a sense
of warmth and well being to the very marrow of his bones.
"AH! It is so good to be alive!" he thought.
Sylvie lay stunned on her husbands exercise mat for a few moments,
tasting the salty bitterness of his semen on her tongue and in her
throat. And then she slowly got up, dazed and bedraggled she moved
slowly toward her private bathroom and dressing room. She could still
feel the maddening tingling in her loins that signaled her complete
frustration and her mouth and jaws felt sore and worn. Suddenly hatred
for the man she had married filled her every pore, as trembling with
rage and sorrow, she stepped into the shower and turned on the cold
water jets full blast. She knew better than to count on Tim's promise
of reciprocation the following night. Bitterly, she realized that such
words of hope from her politician husband were like so many campaign
promises.
"A lot of hot air!"
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