"Hey, honey, where you been?" Walter Cunningham asked his wife when she entered the bar. He glanced over at the bar and saw Johnny Carvel had also returned to the party.
"I had some things to take care of in the office, dear," Grace answered.
"Oh. A woman's work is never done, huh?"
"No. I guess not. Let's dance, dear," she said.
Walter's eyebrows lifted. "Dance? You and me? Sure, I'll give it a try."
He got up from his chair and nodded at his two gentlemen drinking partners. "Fellas, I'll be back after I waltz the little lady around the ballroom."
Grace smiled and ignored his spirited gait. He usually celebrated the annual dance by getting totally drunk. But tonight it didn't bother her, tonight it actually was a blessing in disguise. After dancing and a token appearance to the members she'd have to take care of part two of her plan, Alan Edwards.
Walter and Grace walked by Teresa and Eileen as several young men crowded close for their attention. Eileen leaned, close to Teresa and whispered, "Has your dad been drinking? He looks red in the face."
"What else could he do?" whispered Teresa. "My mother was gone for almost an hour."
"Oh? Who with?"
Teresa's face was set, she didn't display any of the rage inside her as she said, "Never mind."
"Ohhh," answered Eileen knowingly. "Him."
"Forget about that," said Teresa. "As soon as they're done dancing I'm going to ask my dad to dance with me. You wait a while then cut in."
"Cut in?" she asked as if it were some horrible task.
"Yes, cut in. Just tap me on the shoulder and I'll step aside. Then you dance with him and ask him."
"I can't," said Eileen.
"You have to!"
"I do not!"
"You want to, don't you? Don't you want to know what a real man, a mature man, is like?" asked Teresa. She giggled at some idiotic joke one of the fellows made.
"Of course I do, you know that," said Eileen.
"Then just ask him, silly. All he can do is say no… but he won't. I know he gets turned on by you… "
Eileen whispered, "Then why hasn't he asked me?"
Teresa sighed. "Because you're so young. He can't go around making plays for girls our age. What if we panicked and told someone? He'd be in big trouble. Anyway, he's married, he has to play things real cool."
"I guess so," said Eileen.
Grace pressed her body in close to Walter's while they danced but he didn't seem to feel it. His steps were unsure as he trotted her around the floor. But he's a handsome man, she told herself. Handsome and wealthy. Half the women there would give away their diamonds just to get in bed with him. She smiled inside. Grace knew she was the sharpest, most stunning woman in the club.
Walter let his eyes gaze across the dance floor. All he saw were the aging, overweight bodies of girdle-held backsides of the other men's wives. A sad lot, he figured. Grace was the most beautiful of the bunch… the bunch of wives.
His stare held firm when it came to Eileen and Teresa in the corner with all the admiring young men. Now, there are two fine creatures, he mused to himself. Young, firm, alive and vivacious. Not hardened by the years of struggle or softened by the years of time.
The music ended and Grace stepped back. "Perhaps we should circulate," she said.
"Perhaps," answered Walter. "Why don't we assault the Jameson's over there? You can hear the latest gossip and I can hear about his boat sales."
"Good idea," said Grace.
Then Teresa was there. "Daddy, will you dance with me?" she asked.
Her father smiled graciously. "If your mother will forgive my not socializing with the Jameson's."
Grace jumped at the chance. "Oh yes, dear. You dance with Teresa, I'll handle the Jameson's on my own."
The music started again and Walter took his daughter into his arms. She smiled sweetly and pressed in close to his well-groomed, spicy-smelling body.
"Enjoying yourself?" he asked.
"Not too much," Teresa answered. "These things are really a bore."
Walter chuckled. "Well, we must fake it. After all, it's the least we can do for your mother."
Teresa liked the secure feeling of his tender embrace, the smoothness with which he danced. He seemed much more sober than when he came from the bar. His graceful movements and gentle lead made her dance better than she ever had. Her breasts were gradually kneading into his chest to be pushed up high in her low-cut top.
Walter looked down on the bulbous masses of breast and saw where the dark tan stopped and the pure white skin began. He caught himself and stopped before inhaling enough to swell his chest and force more of the delicious mammaries into view.
"You're the most beautiful girl here tonight," he whispered.
She blushed. "And you're the most handsome man."
"Even more handsome than the lifeguard?" he asked.
Before Teresa could answer she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and saw Eileen's anxious face.
"What is this?" asked Walter. "Dance with the old-timers' night?"
Teresa stepped away and Eileen shyly took her place. "No, Father, it's dance with the grooviest man night," said Teresa. She smiled and walked away.
Walter couldn't think of anything to say to the sweet young thing in his arms except, "Are you enjoying yourself tonight, Eileen?"
She pressed herself in close to his warmth. "I am now," she coyly answered.
Walter grinned and shut up. He kept in perfect time to the music, all the while feeling how the slim, curving body managed to move closer and closer to his. The music was slow and rhythmic as he felt her hand moving high on his back to touch the nape of his neck. Then her hips moved in to press against his upper thigh and then he felt the flatness of her taut belly rubbing against his crotch.
He visualized her as he had seen her many times at the house with Teresa, both in their swimsuits. Teresa was a full-bodied, luscious thing with giant breasts and curving rump. Eileen was just as appealing in her thin, feline way. Her breasts were nowhere near the size of his daughter's but they were fascinating just the same.
He had tried many times to undress her with his eyes when they weren't watching. He pictured her breasts as broad-based cones without enough mass to ever droop. The nipples would be nothing but adolescent puckers of slick, pink flesh that would harden if you blew on them.
She had a high, proud backside at the top of her well-developed, long legs. They were the legs of a girl who enjoyed sports, limber, smooth, curving subtly with nerve-wracking temptation. He knew he could circle her waist with his hands and lift her in the air like a beautiful, giggling feather. Toss her like a gay nymph.
He inhaled and smelled the cleanliness of her long, red hair. She had white, tender flesh that refused to tan more than slightly. Eileen was always cautious when in the sun; she burned easily. Her freckled nose reminded him of the days gone by when girls her age weren't ever allowed to wear anything as brazen as make-up.
Walter suddenly realized what his fascination with Eileen was. No make-up. He stared into her face and saw nothing but pure, healthy skin. Her eyes were clear, unsmudged or coated with thick crap. Her lips always made him want to take her in his arms and kiss her… there wasn't a trace of lipstick on those lips, just honest, natural color.
Eileen could feel Mr. Cunningham's cock rising in his pants to bulge against her belly. She could hardly breathe, she felt so forward. But he didn't seem to mind at all, actually he looked like he was enjoying it. She pressed hard against the stiffness and swore she felt him grinding back.
He smelled so good and danced so gracefully. He held her like she was crystal, valuable, cherished. And the lump was getting bigger and bigger all the time. When he gazed down into her eyes she knew what he was thinking, what he was wanting real bad. All she had to do was get the courage like Teresa said.
"Mr. Cunningham," Eileen whispered.
"Yes, dear?" he answered.
"Do you think I'm too young?"
He smiled. "Too young? No, of course not."
"Good. Because I certainly don't think you're too old."
He was silent for a while before asking the next question. "Too old for what?"
"To have an affair with me."
He was silent for a very long time. Eileen's face was flushed red and she felt warm all over. Finally he said, "No, you're not too young and I'm not too old, Eileen. But I do think you might be better off with someone closer to your own age."
The words cut through her like a knife but she couldn't back down now. "I don't. I think I should be taught by someone who's mature, someone who knows what he's doing."
He laughed softly and smiled warmly. His eyes glowed with the joy of flattery. "Then you miss the fun of discovery, the adventure of learning together."
"And the mistakes," she added.
His laugh was louder now. "We all make mistakes, Eileen," he graciously said. The music ended.
She looked into his eyes expectantly but Walter knew this wasn't the time, the place, or the female. "And I'm sure I'm making a mistake by not having an affair with you. Perhaps if things were different, we could."
And that was it. He escorted her like a gentleman back to Teresa and the guys then left for the bar. Eileen looked at Teresa and gave her an embarrassed shrug. She had tried, she'd lost, she felt horrible but he was very nice about it. Teresa nodded and winked with an encouraging grin.
Walter Cunningham kept trying not to think about her as he joined his pals at the table in the bar. But one question kept bothering him. How could a girl so young, so innocent, have the courage to present him with such a tempting offer? And if Eileen were capable of such behavior, what was his daughter Teresa capable of?
The stiffness was just leaving his erection as he gulped down his drink. He tried to give his attention to the men but it was impossible. Instead, he stared out the window at the pool, the clear blue water with the light inside, the handsome young lifeguard dressed in his suit and standing guard.
Then he saw his wife. Grace walked from the dance hall directly to the pool area and paused for only a moment next to Alan. It was obvious she whispered something before quickly heading for her office. Walter gulped down another drink; it was a repeat performance of what he'd witnessed earlier this evening. But now it was with the lifeguard. Johnny the bartender was working behind the bar.
In less than five minutes Walter watched Alan saunter to his wife's office. He shook his head with amazement and ordered drink number three.
Grace lost little time once Alan knocked on the door and entered. She motioned him to sit on the couch and leaned against her desk. Her face was set, firm, she meant business and had no time for niceties.
"I want you to go back to Teresa," she flatly stated.
"Huh?" asked Alan.
"You heard me. I want you to go back to Teresa, we're through as of now."
Alan gulped. "Why?" he asked.
"Because I shouldn't have lured you away from her in the first place," she answered.
But Alan couldn't accept that answer. "But you did lure me away and I liked it."
She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Alan, believe me I was enjoying it every bit as much as you. But we must stop. We have to put things back the way they were."
Alan came to his feet. "Put things back? That's impossible! How can I just forget you and go back to her like nothing ever happened?"
"You can do it."
"What if she won't take me?"
"She will."
"Why? Tell me why!" demanded Alan.
"Because I want to keep her away from Johnny Carvel, that's why!" Grace snapped.
Alan threw his arms in the air. "Oh! So now I'm good enough for her? Is that it? What am I, some kind of game? Some kind of chess piece you can move about at will?"
Grace was getting angry. "Listen, you fool! I'm offering you everything you were after in the first place! My daughter, without any interference from me!"
"But I have to give you up?"
She nodded firmly. "Absolutely."
"I can't," he said. "I just can't turn myself on and off like a faucet. I really enjoyed being with you! I can't give that up!"
"It's over between us," she stated.
"Then the hell with you both. Fire me if you want but I'm not going to have a thing to do with you or Teresa," Alan said as he moved for the door.
"No, wait! Pleases, Alan, please don't do that. I need you to keep Teresa happy, to keep her away from him!"
He spun around. "And what about my needs? Do they count at all? Hell, no! Not to you!"
Grace looked at the floor. He was right, the only needs she was concerned about were Teresa's. She looked up at Alan and smiled. "I'll take care of your needs right now if you promise me you'll at least try to make up with Teresa."
Alan let out a snort. "Great! Just great! Buy me off with your body!"
"I have no choice, Alan. I'm being forced to do this. You know I'd never give you up unless I had no other choice." She moved her hands up to the thrusting mass of her breasts and squeezed.
Alan gulped. The whole damned thing was getting too fantastic. If he didn't take her now he'd only regret it later. And if he did go back with Teresa it would be on his terms and his budget. He remembered the old saying, "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush."
"Okay," he said. "But I can't guarantee she'll take me back even if I beg."
"You can handle her," said Grace. "Now let's take care of your immediate needs."
She liked Alan. He was simple to deal with and fun. He didn't debase her by asking for money, his sex was clean and neat, he was respectful and had a clean mouth. She knew she was paying a dear price for the sake of her daughter but it was worth it to keep Johnny Carvel from touching her again. She wanted Teresa to have better than that.
Grace kneeled before Alan and unzipped the fly of his pants. With deft fingers she reached inside and worked his stiffening cock from the underwear until it stood tall and straight before her face. She felt the muscles of her anus go tight with pain and sighed with relief. Alan had showed no interest in anal intercourse, thank God.
She kissed the length of his beautiful, stiff pecker with moist lips. Then she flattened her tongue and gave it a broad, slow licking back up to the flared head. Finally she opened wide and surrounded the pulsating rod with her sucking, moist mouth.
Alan loved the feel of her soft lips wrapped around his cock. Her hair was short and didn't hang in the way, so he could watch as she sucked more and more of his meat inside. With a desperate downward lunge Grace managed to swallow the end of the cock deep into the heated hug of her gurgling, twisting throat.
She backed away from the cock and let it pop free of her mouth. The taut pole bounded straight up and slapped meatily against the tight flatness of Alan's stomach. The vibrancy of youth, she told herself while undoing her dress. She knew she could have waited until tomorrow to take care of Alan but figured at the last minute not to waste time. He could take advantage of the dance, go ask Teresa to step out on the floor, use the romantic atmosphere to patch things up.
Alan removed his pants quickly and stripped the shirt off his back. He stood waiting as Grace kicked off her shoes and removed her nylon hose and underwear.
"No, wait," he said. "Put the stockings back on. I like the feel of them against me."
Grace giggled. "Sure, anything you want, Alan."
He liked seeing her in the hose and garter belt that reached down from her waist. It reminded him of the old pornographic photographs where all the women wore garter belts and the men wore socks. Those pictures always seemed so much more forbidden, more lustful than the modern shots of yawning cunts in full color with air-brush touch-ups.
Grace's giant tits rocked softly back and forth as she went to him and they embraced. He felt the warm squash of their meat as they crushed eagerly against his chest and she drove her tongue deep into his mouth. His stiff cock was rubbing right against the top elastic of the pink garter belt.
Her hands moved down to cup at his ass and squeeze the big cheeks hungrily. Alan thrust his hardness against her body and felt Grace squirm against him. Her lips moved from his mouth to his neck and ear. A finger slid into the crease of his ass to slowly caress the length of the valley.
"I'm going to miss you," Alan whispered.
"Me too, Alan. Me too," she sighed while placing a hand around the fine stiffness of his erection.
She stroked the cock with a tight grip and watched as the purple aura of excitement colored the pounding head. Alan's hand was at her crotch, pressing, massaging against the hot lips, soft tissues and matted hair. Grace's hips were gently grinding into his palm. He worked his finger around until it touched her clitoris and caused her to groan happily with pleasure.
His finger moved deep into the slit to explore the super-sleekness of the vaginal walls. Grace lowered her body enough to open her thighs and give him full playing area as the finger stabbed to full depth. As he withdrew it the flood of thick juice followed to coat her lips and prepare the burning cunt entrance.
"On the couch," she moaned.
She laid on her back with legs spread wide apart as Alan kneeled between them. He looked down at the crimson lips of her hole and saw the running juices. Her smooth thighs and firm buttocks framed the vulnerable crack with flawless, warm flesh.
"You're so good, Alan," she sighed. "And I'm no good at all. You'll be much happier without me."
The sincerity of her words rang with truth but Alan didn't care. He wasn't in pursuit of goodness with either Grace or Teresa, what he wanted from them had nothing to do with what she was talking about. The only good thing he wanted from them was their cunts, their dripping, easily excited, humping pussies.
She was still pulling hard at his tool and directing it at the fire burning in her crotch. Alan leaned forward until his body rested on hers and the comfortable cushion of her breasts flattened under his heaving chest. Grace worked the hot tip of his rod against the loose skins of her gash until it was thoroughly soaked with slippery liquids.
"Please go easy," she sighed as the wide head began to separate the begging lips.
Now Alan understood. He had seen her and Johnny enter the office a while ago, spending a good hour inside. His curiosity and imagination provided the details of what went on inside, but he had shrugged it off as his own jealousy. But now that she asked him to go easy when she usually liked it hard and fast, the surge of jealousy returned.
He was entering a cunt that had held the cock of Johnny Carvel less than an hour ago. And it was reamed out and hurting from the hot fucking he must have given it. Alan went easy, very easy. His muscle slithered along the clinging walls of the cunt to feel the tremendous heat, the instant shudders of spasmodic reaction.
He dipped tenderly until he was all the way in. Grace softly lifted to him and gracefully rocked from side to side. She dug the fit of this young man's solid prick, the way it filled her box completely without ripping and destroying the joy with biting pains.
Alan lowered his hands down under her ass to cup the warm, wet cheeks of her ass and lift. The cunt crammed up tight against the base of his rod and Grace washed herself back and forth. He lowered the buttocks as he withdrew, then lifted as he entered once again.
Her eyes were closed, she breathed with short gasps, as his well-behaved cock worked the trembling of her cunt into a pleased frenzy. His strong arms and solid body thrilled her, the hard muscles of his well-developed thighs felt wonderful against the smoothness of her own legs.
She was caressing him with her inner thighs, rubbing her feet along the backs of his legs. Alan felt the electric rub of the nylon hose against his skin and hair. The straps of the garter belt were entwined in his lifting fingers as the cock moved in and out of her bubbling pussy.
It was a turn-on. The nylon caresses were making his head swim with excitement. He moved faster, plunged with more force into the cunt.
"Uh!" she groaned.
But Alan couldn't stop. He was picturing himself with black socks on, posing in front of a camera with a mustached photographer saying, "Watch the birdie."
Her whole body was swimming under him as she humped up high and wrapped her legs tightly around his. The nylons were all over him now as his toes dug into the arm of the couch for balance and leverage.
"Yes…" she was sighing. "Yes, Alan, do it to me… Let yourself go… "
His bare ass hoisted high in the air and pounded down with pure force to rack her glorying cunt with a powerful, cramming thrust of pure cock. She jolted up hard against the driving rod to welcome it regardless of the sensitivity of her thoroughly scrubbed cunt.
It was tight, tighter than usual, Alan noticed as he pumped rapidly in and out of the clinging hole. It dawned on him that a woman has only so much moisture in her system and after having screwed Johnny she was most likely running dry. The lips and lining of the gyrating cunt were less slippery than usual, the twat was drawing along his pecker to rub it into great heat, to make it burn with friction.
The drying in her hole only increased the pinching pain Grace was experiencing. But she ignored it in favor of the greater pleasure she felt from the pounding shaft. The hardness of her clitoris was scraping roughly against the plunging base of his cock, each deep stab seemed to draw it in tighter against the jabbing log.
Alan was grabbing her ass tightly and hoisting her up with each deep run. His fingers slid deep into the crevice and pressed against the tenderness of her anus. Grace stiffened somewhat and tried to sway her rump to the side. But she couldn't and before she could tell him not to, Alan's middle finger was digging into the sore pucker of her ass.
"Oh! Uhhh…" she meekly moaned as the finger moved deep inside the hole to twirl and rub. But it was small compared to what Johnny had put in there, it felt good, relaxing.
Without warning, a violent orgasm jolted through her body and Grace bucked up fiercely. The reeling pleasures cascaded along her limbs, made her stomach shudder and her nipples grow into hard points. She grabbed at Alan's ass and twirled a finger deep inside his humping asshole.
Alan's body started to dance out of control as he felt the squirming finger wiggling inside his ass. She was digging deep and down, going straight for the imbedded gland that was like the panic button. She massaged the prostrate and instantly felt his hips react.
At first it hurt like hell and Alan wanted to roll away but suddenly the waves of climax started splashing over him. He felt all the pleasures of an orgasm but nothing was issuing from his cock. Nothing yet. He slammed his cock brutally into the clinging cunt and pushed his finger inside her ass as far as it could go.
Grace clamped the muscle of her colon tight around his finger as the last shudder of happiness came from her mouth. Her cunt was battering at his stabbing meat every inch of the way. He was fucking her with pure, non-stop force. The cock was hitting deep, wracking her insides with pure stiffness, plunging her body toward another climax.
Finally the jizm rose in Alan's screaming pecker to pour out like hot sand and fill the bucking cavity of her cunt. It came in explosive surges which made his body rock from head to toe, boiling, steaming eruptions of frothing cream to wet and paint her insides.
The cleansing gush of semen made Grace's body go wild again. Then she felt the payload rising up to the lips of her twat and dripping out. The white sap oozed from the bottom crack of her cunt down into the crease of her ass where Alan's finger was still probing into her hole.
Grace's hips heaved up to take advantage of the final stages of Alan's erection. A washing climax engulfed her as she hugged him close and kissed his neck.
"Oh… Alan, you're so good…" she sighed.
"Are we through forever?" he asked.
She smiled as the orgasm passed. Then she kissed his cheek and said, "The summer will be over soon and Teresa will be going back to school. When she's gone perhaps we can occasionally meet."
"But for now I'm supposed to charm Teresa away from your number-one choice?"
"He's not my number one!" she insisted. "This is the only way I can keep them apart!"
Alan shrugged and sat up. He couldn't quite fathom the extremes this mother was going to, to protect the so-called virtues of her daughter. And it seemed each step she took to make sure Teresa was in the best of hands caused the reverse action. Teresa was obviously revolting against Grace, but Alan decided to say nothing. After all, it wasn't his position to make suggestions, especially when he was being pleasantly shifted from one prime cunt to the other.
"You go back out now," said Grace. "Forget about pool duty and find Teresa. Ask her to dance, tell her we're all through."
"She knows about us?" Alan asked with surprise.
"Yes, she does. Tell her you broke off with me… that I'm heartbroken. But you prefer young women to old bags like me."
Alan watched as she tucked the beautiful masses of firm breast into her dress. "Some bag," he cracked.