Virginia Simmas threw the women's magazine to the floor in disgust and lit a fresh cigarette, the last one still burning in the ash tray. She puffed on the cigarette with a vengeance, picked up the dainty teacup on the end table, and tossed the cold, black liquid down.
She grimaced. It was a lousy drink, half cold coffee and half vodka. A lousy way to get through life, too, she thought, but being a little tight seemed to make it easier.
Virginia knew there was something missing, something that vodka and cigarettes wouldn't replace yet, to go out and get involved with life again seemed like too much of a chore. She was too old to go back to school; besides, she didn't want to, and she sure as hell didn't want to get job. Still, she had to do something; her unrest was growing by the day.
She was thirty-eight years old, married almost twenty years, and had a grown daughter. The most charitable thing she could say about her marriage was that it was dull.
She got absently to her feet and trudged up the three stairs to the bedroom level. Her head felt light and she staggered just a trifle. Another vodka, she thought, and she could sleep the rest of the day away. The thought was tempting, but she knew she had to get busy or lose her mind. She slid open the closet door, only to shrink back. Cleaning that out was too formidable a job in her condition; to leap in there cold turkey was just too much to ask. She would start by cleaning out the drawers in the dresser, starting with her husband's one drawer. She had four.
God, what men accumulated. Two worn-out undershirts, one red sock, no mate, and… what in the hell was a big brown envelope doing in his clothes drawer under all of his other paraphernalia? She realized that it had been years since she had opened his drawer except to pile his clean things on top of what was already there, and God knew what a man would stuff in it in that length of time.
She took the envelope and idly undid the clasp. Her mouth dropped open with astonishment as a mass of dirty pictures spread out on the bed. She picked up one of the pictures and looked at it. It was of a man standing over a naked woman, his prick spurting a load of cum onto her face. In spite of her shock, she said, "Why, his.. his thing must be ten inches long" She threw it down.
The next one she picked up was no better, or the next, or the one after that. She scooped the pictures back into the envelope and threw it into the drawer.
"The dirty rat!" she finned. "He pays about as much attention to me as he does the vacuum, and then collects dirty pictures of men and women… fornicating and other things."
Virginia and Harvey still fucked now and then, but it was usually when he was drunk, crawling on and slamming his cock in and out of her cunt for a few strokes until he came. Some fun. And it was always when Harvey felt the need, never any thought of how she felt. Virginia flounced angrily from the worn.
Downstairs again, Virginia was in a rage. He doesn't know I'm alive, she thought, and I've got ten times as much to offer as any of those whores in his pictures!
She lifted her skirt high and looked down at herself just to make sure. She had a little more around her middle, but her belly was still firm, the belly button deep and sexy, and her dark beaver bulged out the front of her panties. She didn't need to look at herself to know she was still a fine-looking woman, even if she didn't feel like it, but sometimes it helped. Satisfied, she let her skirt fall back into place.
She went to the kitchen and poured some vodka into a glass and ten minutes later she was back in the bedroom looking at the pictures. She left in disgust again, yet was back for a third try within the hour. She stacked the pictures into neat piles and, starting with the first pile, looked at each picture in turn. There were men and women playing with each other, fucking and sucking, and from all angles. It was disgusting, yet, in spite of herself, she was aroused, especially by the ones where the men were young.
Then she came to one with a boy who couldn't have been over nineteen. The boy in the picture stood in the nude and a woman kneeled in front of him with his prick in her mouth. She WBS clothed, but the front of her dress WAS open and her big tits were exposed. The boy was tall and thin, almost frail-looking, and his cock appeared to be quite long, even with part of it in the woman's mouth. The woman wasn't pretty and looked to be in her late thirties, and she had the boy's balls cupped in her hand.
"Oh, my God!" Virginia gasped. "I like that, I really do." She laid it aside and went through the remaining pictures faster, hoping to find more with young boys.
She found several, two of the same boy and woman, only they were both naked and in one they were fucking and in the other-heaven forbid if the boy had his face buried between the woman's legs. Virginia had heard that men put their mouths on a woman's cunt, but had never given it much thought. It made her tingle now, and when she felt her pussy-mound, she found that her underwear was wet.
The one that really turned her on, though, was of a much younger boy, maybe eighteen, and a woman who was lying on her back with the boy straddling her face. He was squirting his jism into her open mouth. It was a very good picture, the stringy strands of cock-goo clearly dripping.
Virginia scooped the rest of the pictures into the envelope and put it back under her husband's underwear in the drawer, then sat back on the bed to examine her self. In spite of herself, she was unable to control her self, she was a female animal in a rut, lusting for the choice fruit of tender youth, yearning for the innocent, unmolested cock of a young boy.
Virginia fell back on the bed and brought her feet up. She could feel the heat rising between her thighs. The urge to play with her cunt, yes, to bang herself, was very strong, even tough she hadn't done such a thing in many, many years. She wondered now why she hadn't. A fuck with Harvey was a rare occasion any more, and God knew she needed something.
Her skirt was above her hips and her hand moved between her open thighs. Her panties were soaked. She looked at the pictures laid out on the bed beside her and pushed her panties down her lop. After kicking them free, her hand returned to her crotch, a finger sliding into the slick slit nestled at the top of her thighs, first lightly, then With considerably more urgency. Virginia realized when the first ripple of pleasure roiled through her cunt that she was ripe and ready-Lord, she was overripe!
While her fingers played lovingly between the puffed-out lips of her cunt, her mind wandered back into the musty archives of her memory. An image came forth, one that had long been forgotten, but at the time seemed as if it would linger forever. She. was eighteen years old again and her little brother was six. She doted on her little brother; he was her real live doll, her very own play pretty, an out of curiosity she had taken down his pants, and upon seeing his tiny prick, had succumbed to an irresistible urge. She had taken the gorgeous piece of pink cock-flesh in her hand, and when it felt so wonderful, bent down and kissed it. She could almost feel the tiny prick against her lips now, and wondered what it would have felt like if the tiny organ could have gotten hard.
As the incident turned out, her father caught her just as she was about to take her brother's little cock inside her mouth. He gave her a blistering that she thought she would never forget. The beating was enough to prevent her from doing it again, but not to erase the immensely pleasurable sensation of her little brother's cock against her lips. For ninny months afterwards she used the memory to excite herself sexually.
Virginia was at a sensual high, her fingers massaging thrill after thrill from her cunt. She was close to coming, the drool dripping, from the corner other mouth.
She looked at the pictures on the bed beside her again and increased the action of her hand. She had two ringers deep inside her cunt while her thumb strummed heavily on her cut. She imagined the frail-looking youth was squirting his hot jizz down her throat and started to come. She had always come easily, even many times when Harvey came after,just a couple of jabs, but this one was exquisite, shattering better than anything she had ever had before. And while she was at the height of her come, she saw the picture of the big dog and imagined that it was her hand pulling on the wet, slimy tool.
Virginia lay exhausted for a long while, the ride down from her sexual high a slow, gentle, very rewarding one. She finally got up when the urge to pee grew so strong she could no longer hold out. Her release over the potty was almost like another come. God, she thought, a good piss was almost sexual, and it really was. She went back to her room and hid the pictures under her panties in the dresser.
She wanted her husband to fuck her when he came home, but it was his bowling night, and lie left the house right after supper without so much as a kiss on her cheek. She felt only bitterness at her plight; after all, did she deserve such treatment? She had been a good wife and mother. Their only child, Ruthie, was nineteen and away for her first year in college, leaving her with nothing but an uncaring, self-gratifying husband. Why hadn't Harvey given her a son, too? She had wanted a son so badly. Why was she so left out? Site filled a glass half full of vodka.
Her brain felt numb when she finally staggered up to her bedroom. She had stripped down to her panties and bra when she glanced out the window and saw a light in the house next door. It was from Chuck Morrison's roam, it had to be, his parents' room was on the other side. Without thought, she staggered from the room, down the stairs, and out the front door. The Morrison house was a rambling, ranch type, and she could look directly into the window without so much as standing on her toes.
She realized that she was standing in plain sight between the two houses, clad only in her underwear, but she quickly forgot it when she looked into the window. She gasped. Chuck Morrison sat on his bed, his pants open, and he had his cock in his hand. A soft moan escaped her lips as she watched the boy's prick grow. Automatically her hand slid down inside her panties.
Chuck had leaned back on his bed, his hand moving slowly up and down on his hard cock, when the door to his room flew open. Virginia pulled back, but not so much that she couldn't see. Chuck's mother, Clara, stood in the door; she wore only a pair of sheer panties, her black beaver plainly showing through. Her tits were large and hung down.
The window was open, and Virginia heard Clara say, "Now stop that, Charles. You know it isn't good for you."
"Aw, Mom," Chuck answered.
"If it had been your father who had walked in here instead of me, you'd get a tanning, and you know it."
She stared directly at the window and Virginia froze.
"Don't you have enough sense to close your drapes, especially if you're going to play with yourself'? Now get up and close them," she said.
Chuck grumbled and got to his feet. With his prick still hanging from his pants, he came to the window and pulled the drapes shut. Virginia got a good close look at his cock, even if it had gone soft.
"Now, you get ready for bed," Clara said, "I have to go because your father is waiting for me."
Virginia stood in the darkness, her hand still inside her panties, staring at the closed drapes. "No, no, no," she moaned, "I wanted to watch him jack off."
In a daze, Virginia wandered around the house, the damp gram sending chills through her bare feet and up her lop. She really didn't know what she was doing, yet stopped when she got to the master-bedroom window. The drapes stood wide open and she could see Jack Morrison sitting on the bed in his shorts. Clara came into the room still clad in her panties.
Clara was four yearn younger than Virginia, but she had turned to fat, and she wasn't pretty like Virginia. Her lips were fat, her ass was big and flabby, she had a roll around her middle, and her tits hung halfway to her belly. Jack looked younger than she, and was still trim. He was a salesman and was gone a lot.
I'm going to bed," Clara said, rolling her pantyhose down her legs. She stood in front of her husband. "Like me?" she asked.
"Yeah," Jack answered, "sure, baby. But you'll have to get it up for me. I'm pooped. It was a rough day."
Jack got to his feet and pushed down his shorts. His cock was all shriveled up, almost hidden by the mass of hair. Clara went over to him and kneeled down. She stretched his prick out of the hair, bent forward, and took it in her mouth.
Virginia looked again, her nose almost pressed against the window. She watched Clara suck Jack's cock, heard the slurping sounds, felt the heat building in her cunt. When Clam backed off, Jack's cock was hard and glistened with Clara's spit. Virginia noticed with satisfaction that it was much smaller than Harvey's. Harvey's prick was that big when it was soft.
"Suck it all the way, honey," Jack said. "I feel like making it in your mouth tonight."
"No, Jack," Clara whined, "I want you to fuck me, and if you come in my mouth, you won't. I need a fuck, Jack, it's been over a week."
In spite of her arousal, Virginia blushed. She had no idea that Clara talked like that. She could hear Jack grumbling, but he let her get on the bed and quickly moved on top of her. She had never seen anyone fuck before, and it made her very excited. Her panties went to the pound and she masturbated while Clara and Jack fucked.
"Oh, Jack, Jack, it feels so good!" Clara cried, bucking wildly. "Fuck me good, honey! Make me come! Make me come!"
Virginia came first and slumped to the damp earth. She was back in her bedroom, not sure how she bad even gotten there, before she realized the terrible chance she had taken. She wasn't a peeping Tom, and yet she had gone to the neighbors' windows practically naked and stood in full view of the street. In fact, she had come back home naked because her panties were still lying on the pound outside Clam's bedroom window. She felt sick and ashamed and went down to the, kitchen for a drink.
When Harvey came home, it was after midnight and he was dead drunk. He stumbled and cursed in the darkness and finally crawled into bed with Virginia. He was naked, yet didn't even realize that Virginia was, too. He was snoring within seconds.
Virginia let her hand slide over his hugs, hairy belly. She was accustomed to him naked beside her because he always slept in the raw. Pajamas always twisted around his body when he turned in his sleep and he tore them apart, so he wore none, he never had. She felt of his big arms, his hairy barrel chest, and then let her band slide down over his belly again. She gripped his prick in her hand; it felt massive and hot, even though it was completely soft. She realized that he reeked of sex and it made her feel excited to know he had been out fucking another woman.
She cupped his balls. They were big, just like the rest of him, only they were cool. She wondered why a man's nuts always felt cool. Her hand went back to his cock. Keeping one hand on his cock, she pushed the coven back and crouched beside his sleeping form. Bringing her face close, she lifted the limp rod and put her mouth over the end. It tasted very strong when she pushed back the thick foreskin with her lips. She had never had a cock in her mouth and wondered if they all tasted like this or if she was tasting the mint had bad been inside.
Harvey never did get a hard-on, yet she sucked his cock for a long time, and she masturbated again, coming twice. Over twenty years without finger-fucking and now three times in one day-what was becoming of her? She pressed her head into the soft pillow and went to sleep, a warm glow in her belly and, for the first time in her life, the taste of a man's prick on her lips.