Betsy felt Laura's hand washing slowly over her ass, an idle caress, affectionate, lazy. Fingertips tailed into her cleft, down to the button of her anus, where they paused, pressed about it, moving it slowly. Then a gentle pressure directly on her asshole made the ring seem to expand, and a fingertip slipped inside.
Betsy squirmed voluptuously. "I like!" she said, "Did you ever have a cock up it?"
"No!"
"Tom digs that action. You ought to try it."
Betsy frowned. Here, nuzzling Laura's crotch, she seemed to be hearing the offer of the woman's husband. She pictured him, tall and dark, a huge grin, flashing eyes. Attractive and sexy. Very sexy.
Laura said, "He's hot for you, Betsy. He says, 'That cute ass next door, I'd like to sink my teeth into it!'"
"But Laura – would you – let Tom – your husband – and me…"
The other laughed. "Honey, this is Horny Haven."
Betsy recalled the panties under the highboy, and Laura's mention of wet-cunted broads juicing the bedsheets. Goodness, did they have – orgies?
And the party tonight, what would it be like?
Laura withdrew her finger, then dipped it into Betsy's cunt, which fluttered wildly at the touch, and returned it to the previous aperture. Moistened by cunt juice it now slipped in easily, excitingly! Betsy squirmed back at it, impaling herself, taking an inch up her asshole.
The finger wiggled, and suddenly Betsy felt hot all over. She rubbed her mouth on Laura's clit, then licked the slippery little nipple-like protrusion. But the exciting finger up her ass diverted her attention. She raised up, elbowed Laura's legs back to see her anus, a dark pucker in a swirl of fine black hair. Wetting her finger in cunt juice, she pressed it at the star shape. It seemed to contract, wobble about, then it expanded and her fingertip slipped inside.
"Ugh-hh!" Laura grunted. "Oh, honey, I'm so sensitive there. When Tom buggers me I go absolutely wild." Then she said, "Betsy, raise up so I can get under your pussy. We'll sixty-nine, huh? You want?"
Did she! Betsy levered up, lifting a leg over Laura's body and lowered, guided by the other's hands on her behind, and the finger still piercing her ass.
She felt hot breathing on her cunt.
Just that, and her cum started.
So hot, gasping, trembling with urgency, she sank her finger deeper into the other's asshole, and when the first tongue stab shot up her hole she shrieked.
"Laura! I'm so fucking hot. I'm going to cum! Laura, do you hear me?"
A soft mouth closed in Betsy's clitoris and she went wild.
"The biggest clit I've ever seen!" Laura murmured, licking and sucking it, and Betsy remembered her humiliation when Alice first said that. As though she were deformed! Alice had said it was because she had masturbated too much, that made it grow, and maybe it was true because in those days Betsy had not been able to take a pee without succumbing to the urge to twiddle her clit. She had kept a hidden candle to stick up her cunt, but that had not seemed to enlarge it much. She had been a pretty tight fit on any cock.
Flames were boiling around in her belly.
She cried, "Laura, I'm going to cum!"
"We'll make it together, honey. Lap my cunt, huh?"
Betsy got down to it, panting, breathing in that thrilling hot-cunt scent as she laved the quivering split with her tongue, sent it wagging up the other's hole and suckered her mouth fast on the opening, drinking of it while licking.
"Agh-ghhh!" Laura grunted, hunching now, jerking her pussy at Betsy's face just as she gave Betsy's clit the first really hard suck.
Betsy went wild. Crying out, thrashing about, she lost her finger grip in Laura's asshole. She clung to the girl's cheeks as they went together rolling over the bed, barely managing to each keep her head in between the other's legs. Betsy's cum – oh, she knew it was no false buildup like last night with Jim – was an opening and closing of her cunt, like a bellows, with waves of heat rippling up and down it at great speed.
"I'm cumming! My cunt is bumping, Laura, lick my clit, oh suck it darling."
Laura sucked so loudly that the noise was what seemed to trigger Betsy. Her cunt was flowing, a warm river spilling out. She heard herself laughing. Oh, the blessed relief of getting off!
I've cum, she thought. At last, I've cum.
The cum faded. She seemed to have vaporized, felt like a fluffy cloud drifting across a blue sky.
That afternoon at home, Betsy drowsed in the bathtub, wondering how many cums she had gotten today. More than in the last two years! She awoke in cold water, went wrapped in a towel to the bedroom and flopped down on the bed, feeling as though every knot inside her had been dissolved and turned to cunt juice. Finally she awoke, found she had been sleeping with her hand between her legs, and it was swimming in cuntal drool.
Time to prepare Jim's supper. In the bathroom she swabbed her thighs with a washcloth, then squatted on the toilet to pee. Testing her cunt, she found it gaping, and drooling anew, to say nothing of her clit being half erect. She tweaked it, felt a tingle of pleasure. God, am I turned on! she thought. Like a bitch in heat. She pressed the flat of her hand on the length of her cunt and it went squish. And her clit was growing. Well, you little fucker, she thought, I'll jerk you off! So she twiddled and tweaked the hot nubbin, pulled it until she was grunting and levering her hips there on the toilet seat, wrenching her clit to a hot cum that left her panting, groaning, and pleased, smiling broadly as she bent down, contorting herself to see the red length of her clit between her fingers, still being pulled, still horny-hard.
Supper.
Supper, God, I'm so used to cooking I could do it in my sleep, she thought. I could run this house in about two hours a day. I should get a job!
But when Jim came home she said nothing of that. She presented herself as he expected, prettily dressed and wearing makeup, with an extra dab of perfume to hide the cunt odor.
Dutifully she kissed his cheek.
"Darn night meetings," he said, heading for the bathroom to shower and shave – two of each daily, three showers if he intended sexual assault.
"It's part of your job," Betsy said, wondering if it were, or would it be a brief meeting followed by bar-hopping, ending at June Haley's apartment? She wondered if he would shower there again before fucking the secretary.
"I hate leaving you here all evening."
"Oh, I'll watch TV," Betsy replied, finding it easy to lie. Very easy. "Will you be late?"
"Could be one, two o'clock. These visiting firemen, you know, the home office types, they like to do the town a little. And entertaining is part of my job."
"You poor dear," Betsy murmured.
"Have to make a good impression. Think of the future. These are big shots."
"I won't wait up, darling. You stay out as late as you think you need to."
She frowned at her own conniving.
At that moment she heard a car roll into the next drive. She went to the kitchen window and saw Tom Graham get out, shout in the kitchen door to Laura that he was home.
He moved like a panther. Athletic, lean, full of piss and vinegar.
She felt a throbbing begin in her cunt.
Jim had left, dressed in a fresh suit and shirt, hair brushed to shining, shoes gleaming like mirrors.
Betsy did the dishes and tidied up. It was almost eight, time for the party at Horny Haven.
She had asked Laura what she should wear. "Anything, darling. But no bra, huh? Those gorgeous tits of yours should be left free to jump around so everybody can enjoy them."
Jim would blow a fuse if she suggested going out loose-titted. She zipped down her dress and I moved her bra, gave her nipples a squeeze, and zipped back up. Then she shook herself, and giggled as she saw her titties dance about.
Mindful of her neighbors booze problem, she took a bottle of gin by the neck, snatched up a pack of cigarettes – and went – feeling her pussy lips squish together as she walked across the back lawn to the Graham kitchen door.
She found Laura inside, looking impossibly gorgeous in a lemon-colored party dress cut down almost to the nipples. No bra, of course.
Betsy hugged her and gave a kiss – just tongues, to save their lipstick.
Tom stood in the dining room doorway, watching, grinning at them. He wore a red knit shirt and gray pants so tight that his crotch bulge stood out like a fist.
"Such a terrific-looking pair of cunts!" he said. "And bath mine. At least until the other guests arrive." He came and hugged both of them. "Betsy, have a drinkie? Gin and tonic?"
She nodded, and as Tom began mixing, she asked, "Who's coming?"
"Two couples we met at Bingo's Boite, a joint where we booze. Named Colby and Thatcher."
"Seven, then, and I'm the odd female?"
He grinned. "Nothing odd about you, Betsy. Looks like you've got everything hanging out where it ought to be," he said, leering at her breasts.
She had to laugh. He had the same cheerful bawdiness as Laura, and his frank recognition of her big tits was a relief after so many men just casting sidelong glances and then talking about something else. With Laura and Tom she seemed to be lifting out of the smothering stuffiness she had so long endured.
Laura had gone to the kitchen table to fix up her snack tray. Betsy went to help her, walking with a roll of her hips to show off her buttocks to Tom, remembering Laura's saying that he called her "that cute ass next door" and that he'd like to take a bite. Gee, she taught, am I really Mrs. Jim Walters rocking my behind as bait for my girl friend's – and lover's – husband? No, I'm just Betsy!
She helped open boxes of crackers and arranged them in the compartment tray around the dip.
Tom said, "Okay, there's the drinks made. Now, I have to put in a business phone call. Betsy, come to the den and keep me company?"
"Go on, darling," Laura said. "I'll have this done in a jiff."
Betsy hesitated, her heart suddenly thumping. But Tom handed her a drink and beckoned, and she followed him out.
In the dining room he said, "Laura told me you two cleaned the house like a hurricane. Great. Two can do three times as much as one. Sometimes I help her and the dirt just seems to disappear."
She wondered if Laura had told him they did the job naked, and ended up in bed. He must at least suspect, after seeing their tongue kiss when she arrived.
In the den he pointed at the couch. She sat. He took the chair at his desk and began dialing the phone. When he had an answer he said, "Mr. Mayhew, please." After listening he said, "Okay," and hung up. "He'll call back when he gets off the other phone," Tom said, tilting his chair back and taking a sip of his drink.
"What business are you in, Tom?" Betsy asked.
"Real-estate appraisal."
"Oh, that's how Laura got into selling houses?"
"Sort of. An outfit I knew wanted a gal to sell, and she's good at it."
"You're sort of Women's Lib, huh? I mean, Jim would flip his lid if I got a job."
He shrugged. "I think cunts are people, and people should do what they want, what they're good at. Like, Laura fixes the plumbing. Somehow she understands it. I just bring tools for her, usually the wrong ones."
The phone rang. He answered it, opened a notebook and began jotting things down as Betsy thought, So cunts are just people! Yes, Tom, I do love you for that. I wasn't born knowing how to cook, I just thought I had to. Yet all the famous chefs are men. Could I become a famous chef?
Tom put down his pencil, reached to his crotch and scratched his genitals.
Betsy smothered a giggle. He had done that so matter-of-factly.
He took more notes, finally clapped the book shut and hung up. He looked thoughtful as he sipped his drink. Then he set the glass down and turned to her.
"Done! Now for the party. Especially you. Betsy, we've called hello and goodbye across the lawn but I scarcely know you."
She was smiling over her drink at him. He had gray eyes, darker flecks in them, warm, easy-going, though there was a determined set to his chin and an aura of confidence. He knew his worth.
He said, "So let's get acquainted!"
He pushed back his chair and came to the couch, dropped down beside her, sliding an arm over the cushions behind her.
"Like we start with a kiss," he said.
And Betsy, not Mrs. Jim Walters, thought that a delightful way to begin. She set her drink on the table beside the couch and turned to him, finding herself a soft and cuddly thing sort of oozing into his arms, her mouth moist and trembling with eagerness as his lips closed firmly on hers, and his strong, meaty tongue plunged to her throat.
She vined her arms about his neck, caressing rather than clinging, for she was firmly held. She had Laura's permission to sex it up with him, which left her free to shamelessly suck his tongue, to caress, to squirm to him and rub her titties on his chest.
When their mouths at last parted he said, "Hello, Betsy. Glad to have made your acquaintance."
"The pleasure was mine," she giggled, and felt a hand on her breast, looked down and saw his lean, strong fingers gently kneading the right one, his thumb rubbing the nipple.
Yes, her neighbor was toying with her tittie, and she loved it.
Tom murmured, "I hope our guests are a little late…"
Betsy, squirming now, feeling hot and damp between the legs, hoped so too.
She asked, "What are they like? The Colbys and I forget the name of the other couple."
"The way we figure it – I mean Laura does – Colby swings but his wife, Doris, like she crossed her legs once and forgot how to untangle them. The others, George is shy, even blushes. But Vera, she's a redhead with the fire you might expect."
As he spoke he plucked at Betsy's other nipple. They stuck out now like fingers making tents in the dress material.
He murmured, "Like Laura said, your nips are for sucking! Anyhow, what we have to do is separate the husbands and wives, see? And keep the guys from talking baseball together."
Betsy judged this simply good party management but she had a hunch that at Horny Haven the objectives were different. But before she could calculate further Tom's hand slipped under her skirt and began stroking her inner thigh.
"Smooth," he said, caressing all the way up, right to her crotch. At the feel of that she gasped. And Tom said, "Hey, you're not wearing panties? Not at our party."
Betsy gave a laugh and said, "Then I'll take them off!"
And she did, raised flipping up her skirt, grabbing the waist of her panties and peeling them down, slipping them off and kicking them under the couch.
Tom's hand was already under her skirt again, his fingers closing on her hairy cunt lips.