Ginger Davis, watching her husband Tom climb out of the swimming pool, wondered for the hundredth time how such an exciting-looking, sexy guy could be such a dud in bed. It just wasn't fair to be married to a man who turned her on like crazy and then failed her when they fucked.
"What are you looking so solemn about?" Tom asked as he padded toward the diving board.
"I'm wondering if I left the roast in the oven too long," Ginger lied. "I better go check."
She took one last look at her husband – tall, deeply tanned, tautly muscled, a dizzyingly attractive man with classical features and the body of an athlete – and then turned away with a deep sigh. No, dammit, it really wasn't fair. Her poor pussy was steamy-hot and wet with longing for Tom, but she knew after three years of marriage that going to bed with him wouldn't take care of her need.
As Ginger walked toward the house she happened to glance into the neighbors' back yard, and she saw something that made her stop still. The neighbors, Jerry and June Thomas, were sunbathing on the lawn, but Ginger had eyes only for Jerry. My God, she thought, what a stud.
Jerry, a tall black-haired man in his late twenties, was lying on his back, eyes closed, wearing the smallest pair of bathing trunks Ginger had ever seen in her life. Her eyes swept hungrily over Jerry's deeply tanned and heavily muscled body, the thick hair mats on his chest, the flat belly. She found herself staring longingly at the large soft lump of his cock and balls clearly outlined beneath the tight suit.
Ginger licked her lips, then sighed, wondering if Jerry was any good in bed. She was sure that all men weren't as inept and unimaginative as her husband when it came to balling. Well, she'd never know. All she could do was look and wonder, because in spite of Tom's lackluster love-making, she loved him and didn't intend to be unfaithful to him.
Sighing, Ginger stepped into the house. She didn't know that Tom had been watching her carefully. He was seeing his wife as other men saw her, a gorgeous statuesque redhead with long lovely legs and a fantastic pair of boobs. In her tiny yellow bikini, Ginger was really a knockout.
Why, then, was she so lousy in bed?
Tom wistfully watched his wife's pert round little butt as she walked away from him. Everything about her was sexy and enticing, yet in the sack it was like making love to a statue. He was proud of Ginger for being a lady, but, dammit, why did she have to be a lady when they fucked? He wanted her to be a tigress then, a wild wanton slut, but after three years of marriage she hardly moved when they made love.
Still a guy could try. Ginger's fantastic body still turned Tom on like crazy, and he felt the stirring of interest in his cock as he watched his pretty red-haired wife cross the patio. There was time for a quickie before dinner. Tom got up and began to follow Ginger into the house, his horny excitement increasing by the second.
Then he stopped and stared into the neighbors' yard. Just as Ginger was staring at Jerry, Tom's hungry eyes locked on June, a slim but shapely black-haired girl in a tiny red bikini. June was lying on her belly, cute little round ass tightly encased in the skimpy bathing suit. As Tom eyed her, she lazily reached around and untied her bra.
Tom swallowed hard. He saw June's little bra drop down on the towel beneath her, saw the pale round side of her left breast. He wasn't sure, but he thought he could also see her nipple, dark red and pointed. He wondered what kind of lover she was. Did she bite, scratch, howl, and show all the other signs of excitement, which Ginger lacked? God, he'd like to find out.
Tom quickly put the idea out of his mind. He loved Ginger and didn't intend to cheat on her. Somehow they'd find a way to liven up their sex life. Maybe today he'd get lucky and break through that ladylike reserve of hers. Quickly he followed her into the house.
Ginger was checking the oven, leaning over, her big full breasts making a tight deep cleavage in the tiny bikini bra. She pushed her long flame-colored hair back out of the way, and with that gesture her large tits jiggled gently. With a horny grin, Tom crept upon her from behind, eying the pert rounds of her firm little butt. Just as she was closing the oven, he pounced, grabbing her around the waist, lifting her high.
"Tom," Ginger squeaked. "My God, you scared me. I almost wet my pants."
"Sorry about that," Tom chuckled. "I didn't mean to scare you. I had something else in mind."
He spun her around and kissed her, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth. Ginger responded warmly, and her little slick tongue snaked across his in a tempting dance. She pressed her tall lush body against him, her big boobs flattening warmly against his bare chest. She made horny little murmuring noises and rubbed her belly against his crotch.
If only she'd go on being like that! Eagerly Tom broke the kiss, lifted Ginger in his arms, and started for the bedroom. He wanted to catch her while she was lusty and interested. Ginger clung to him, using the wet tip of her tongue to tickle his neck. Maybe, just maybe, today she'd break through her inhibitions and make love like a real woman.
Ginger was excited, all right, but she also had the feeling that she was going to be disappointed again. It was maddening the way Tom could get her so horny and then leave her unfulfilled. Maybe today it would be different. She certainly hoped so. She needed a good long fuck, needed it urgently. Her pussy was hot and swollen and wet with need.
"I watched you walking away from the pool," Tom said, "and suddenly I just had to have you." He didn't mention gawking at June Thomas, watching her remove her bra.
"I know," Ginger murmured. "I wanted you, too, darling." She didn't add that she'd stared at Jerry Thomas so lustily, stared at the big soft lump of his prick.
Tom kicked open the bedroom door and deposited Ginger on their king-size bed. Impatiently he started tugging dawn his wet swimming trunks, but it wasn't easy to get that tight clinging garment off over his swelling erection. He wasn't sure just when he'd gotten hard, looking at Ginger's bouncing little butt or spying on June's naked tits, but he sure as hell had a hard-on.
"Son of abitch," he muttered, tugging at his stubborn trunks.
Ginger giggled, seeing the difficulty. She was content to wait. Their love-making sessions were never long enough to suit her. Tom was usually in such a damned hurry, she hardly got to watch him undress, which was one of her very favorite things. Now she lounged on the bed like a big lazy cat and watched lustily as Tom pried down his trunks.
He was shaped like a man ought to be, with broad strong shoulders, small waist, trim hips. Ginger appreciated that, but her main interest was his crotch. She couldn't get enough of staring at his cock. Here she was an old mated lady of twenty-five, and she still felt like a guilty little kid when Tom took off his pants, dying to sneak a look.
"Jesus, it might be Christmas before I get these damned trunks off," Tom said, joking to cover his mounting irritation.
"That's all right, dear," Ginger laughed. "I'll get something to read or maybe knit a sweater while I wait."
"Oh, hell," Tom sighed, "give me a hand, will you?"
Ginger felt a hot quickening of excitement. Tom had never asked her to help him undress before, though she'd longed to do it. She crawled over to him and seized his wet trunks, deftly rolling them down. She felt a burst of hot cream in her aroused cunt as the big hard rosy head of his cock peeked out.
That swollen cock-head looked big as a doorknob to her. The little dark slit mouth was oozing big glistening drops of juice. Eagerly, hands trembling with excitement, Ginger rolled the trunks down more, uncovering the long thick white stalk of his erect dick. Her pussy swelled and flamed with need, it always did when she saw Tom's cock.
Another inch, and she had the trunks down over the taut curve of his ass, down below his rosy swollen nut sacs with their fine thatch of brown hairs. His hugely swollen prick, six inches of fat throbbing meat, weaved heavily before her lusty eyes. Ginger felt a hot rush of saliva to her mouth, and she blushed beet red.
There it was again, that wicked urge to kiss his cock, to lick and taste it. She'd read quite a bit, and she knew that whores did things like that, but she was sure Tom would be shocked and angry if she confessed her secret urge to use her mouth and tongue on his prick. Yet it happened every time she saw him naked.
"There, darling," she said shakily, "I think you can get them off now." She didn't trust herself to go on touching him like that. She felt the insane urge to bring her mouth right down on that swollen red cock-head, to take it deep in her mouth and taste his juices.
"Thank you," Tom said briskly.
He let the trunks slither down his leg and stepped out of them. He crawled onto the bed beside Ginger and eyed her tall curvy body lustily. "Honey," he said disapprovingly, "you haven't even started to undress."
"Sorry," Ginger sighed.
She'd wanted to prolong the delicious building of excitement, to have a long, long time with him, but Tom was in a hurry as usual. Ginger reached around and untied the top of liar bikini. As she flung the little bra away, her large firm breasts wobbled into their natural shape, solid and pointing. Her ripe round creamy-pale boobs were capped with dainty little light pink nipples.
"Dammit, you're beautiful," Tom said huskily.
He reached out and slipped his hands under his wife's heavy hot breasts, gently lifting and cupping. He loved fondling Ginger's fantastic knockers, but lately he was having the craziest urges. Fondling didn't seem to be enough any more. His mouth grew wet as he fought back the urge to suck her sweet pink nipples like a hungry baby.
"Ummmm, that feels nice," Ginger purred.
She lay back on the bed blushing with arousal while Tom molded and caressed her large sensitive breasts. It was practically their only form of foreplay, the only attention he showed her before fucking, and she loved it. He moved his thumbs back and forth over her soft little nipples, rubbing them into erection. Bolts of excitement ran through her body, from nipples to pussy, and she wished he'd go on and on touching her like that.
But not Tom. He always made love like he had a plane to catch. After fondling her big soft tits for just a moment, he took his hands away. "How about those panties?" he said eagerly.
Sighing, Ginger started casing down the skimpy panties of her bikini. What was Tom's hurry, anyhow? If only he'd spend more time touching her all over, she'd get really hot for him. But her modesty kept her from telling him, and she was sure he wouldn't want to hear it anyway. Tom liked to be boss in their marriage.
Tom was watching lustily as his wife slowly down her tiny yellow panties and the first copper-colored curls popped into view at the base of her belly. Her dainty little triangular muff was the same bright red as her head. As the pretty little fur patch came into view, Tom experienced another of the crazy urges he was getting lately. He wanted to bury his face in her fragrant red bush, kiss her there, maybe even we his tongue.
But, no, that was perverted. Plain old-fashioned fucking was good enough for him. He just wondered why in hell he was getting such nutty ideas lately. Ginger would probably have been horrified to know that he wanted to go down on her. She was so modest and uptight she might not even have heard of giving head.
Ginger supped her panties off over the pert firm rounds of her ass and kicked the little garment away. As she did so, Tom had a brief and tantalizing glimpse of her ripe red pussy with its dainty fringe of red curls. Again he kit a hot rush of saliva to his mouth, again he experienced the wild urge to press his face to her slit and lick her there. What the hell was wrong with him, anyhow?
Naked, husband and wife rolled into each other's arms, kissing and caressing, saying nothing about the wild and kinky urges they were having. Tom could practically taste her lush fragrant pussy, but he controlled himself. Ginger longed to dive for his crotch and take his big tasty cock into her mouth and suck on it like crazy, but she wouldn't have dreamed of confessing that urge to Tom.
"Oh, baby, do I want you," Tom moaned.
"Ummmm, and I want you," Ginger sighed.
He was caressing her hotly, and her small soft hands were running over his hard-muscled body, but they didn't touch each other's crotches. It was very polite and unexciting love-making. Finally Tom felt like his cock was going to burst with its load, and he rolled Ginger onto her back and gently separated her long lovely legs. He stared for a moment at her delicious-looking scarlet slit, then put pussy-eating out of his mind and crawled between her legs.
"Oh, Tom, ahhhh," Ginger murmured.
She always felt her hottest excitement just as his huge hard cock-head pressed against the wet mouth of her eager little cunt. He grunted and pushed, and she felt his great big sausage of a prick slowly entering her tight little pussy, stuffing it deliciously full. She couldn't suppress a squeal of excitement, and she creamed furiously, hotly, around his invading dick.
"Oh, darling, yes," she panted, "YES!"
Tom was moaning softly as he slowly penetrated her. She still had the tightest little box he'd ever fucked, and he'd had quite a few girls before Ginger. But she was the best in that respect, exquisitely mug, boiling hot, and very juicy. He spun out the delicious moment of putting his cock into her, feeling the velvety hot walls of her cunt slowly around his swollen meat.
"Oh, Christ," he panted, "so damned tight."
Ginger heard the hoarse excitement in his voice and realized that she'd better stop luxuriating and get to work if she wanted to come before he did. She drew his hands down to her pert little ass, and Tom knew what she wanted, slipping his hands under her butt and lifting her so that the hard stalk of his cock rubbed her sensitive little clit. Then he began to ball her hard and fast.
"Ooooooo," Ginger squealed, "OOOOOOO."
Tom had such a great cock, long and thick and hard, and she loved the way he used it, almost like a pile driver in its speed and force. She liked the way their bellies smacked loudly together with each hard thrust of his prick, the way his swolen nuts pounded her ass with each lunge. His erect cock rubbed deliciously back and forth over the hot eager button of her clit, giving her sharp bunts of pleasure.
The trouble was, it never lasted long enough to suit her. She could have gone on balling all night, but Tom rushed their fucking like he rushed their foreplay. He humped furiously over her, breaking into a lusty sweat, moaning, and Ginger could tell from his hoarse excited sounds that he was about to come.
"Just a little longer, darling," she groaned. It was the first time she'd ever asked him that.
"Can't," Tom gasped, "gonna come right NOW." Ginger felt the first fiery blast of jism from his cock, and she quickly tensed her cunt muscles around his straining meat, doubling the hot friction, and just managed to bring herself to orgasm, a dizzying explosion of pleasure that made her writhe and moan.
"Oooohhhhh, God, yes!" she wailed.
Not a moment too soon her spasms were still going on as Tom's limp wet prick slipped from her cunt. She could have wept with frustration. She still wanted him inside her cunt, wanting to go on fucking and have more and more orgasms, as her healthy young female body was equipped to do. Tom must have felt that if one came was enough for him, it was enough for her, too.
"Ahhhhh, that was nice," he sighed, rolling off her.
Like hell it was, Ginger thought bitterly.
She eyed his wet shriveled cock, wishing that some magic would make it hard again. She didn't even begin to feel like she'd had enough fucking. But she'd been raised to be a lady, a nice girl, and she felt too embarrassed to talk to her husband about her sexual needs. That was also why she didn't let herself go or move around a lot when they balled. It would have been unladylike.
Tom wiled to his feet and went to find some clothes. It had been a nice fuck but not a great one, and he was wishing there was some way he could tell Ginger what he wanted from her – more fire, more passion, more action. But his strict religious parents had taught him not to speak of that dirty and evil subject, sex, and he found it impossible to say anything to Ginger.
"I'm gonna catch the news," he said, leaving for the living room and the TV.
Ginger pounded her fists on the bed and wept with frustration. She was still achingly horny, but her damned modesty prevented her from telling Tom how she felt. Moaning with need, she reached down and rubbed the soft fur of her mound, as if consoling herself. To her surprise, she felt instant sharp pleasure.
Succumbing to horny curiosity, Ginger parted the copper-furred lips of her mound and touched the hot pea-sized lump of her cunt. She rubbed the little nub gently a few times, and it felt so good, slit gasped with pleasure and surprise. Then she blushed as she realized what she was doing – playing with herself, masturbating like a naughty little kid.
She drew her hand away, but her pear cheated pussy was so hot and swollen and needy that she couldn't resist touching herself again. Blushing and ashamed, she pressed her finger against the hot wet button of her cunt and rubbed again, faster this time. It felt fantastic. Suddenly she knew she wasn't going to resist, that she was going to bring herself off with her own fingers. She'd never even tried that before.
"Ummmmm," Ginger murmured.
She knew that only bad girls frigged themselves, but now her need was so powerful that she simply didn't give a damn. She just had to come again, it was killing her not to. If Tom wouldn't satisfy her in bed, then, by God, she'd take care of herself. She rubbed faster and faster over the hot greedy little bump of her cunt, her pleasure mounting by the second.
"Ahhhhhhh, so good," she murmured.
Over her own excited panting and sighing she could hear Tom opening the fridge, unsnapping a beer can, turning on the TV, then the voice of Walter Cronkite. Let him have his damned beer and news. The silly bastard didn't know what he was missing. They could have fucked again and again, and to hell with dinner and the rest of the world.
"Ohhhhhhh, God!" Ginger gasped.
Her fingers were soaked with her steamy sticky pussy cream, her cunt red-hot with arousal. Why in God's name hadn't she tried frigging herself before? She could go on and on, have as many orgasms as she wanted. Of course it wasn't as good as fucking, but it sure as hell was nice. It beat going around horny and frustrated all the time.
"Ahhhhhhh," Ginger gasped as a powerful climax suddenly shook her body.
She had to stifle her cries of delight as the orgasm spun on and on. She didn't stop playing with herself when the pleasant spasms died down. She just went on rubbing her erect hot clit, curious to see if she could come again. She was wickedly pleased with her new game.
Ginger was astonished and delighted when she managed to bring herself off again in just a few seconds. She frigged happily on, and she was just coming down from her fifth climax when she heard Tom hurrying down the hall. Blushing hotly she whipped her hand out of her flaming-hot crotch and bid her cream-soaked fingers beneath her.
"Honey," Tom called, "did you fall asleep? I think the roast is burning."
"Oh, shit," Ginger cried.
Well, at least she'd discovered something that she could come five times in rapid succession with no trouble at all. She wished she had the courage to tell Tom that, to ask him to fuck her longer. Her husband just wasn't giving her what she needed in bed.
Maybe, she thought rebelliously, she'd have to find what she needed somewhere else.