Margaret turned off the shower and threw her thickest towel around her body. When she padded back into the bedroom, Mitch had awakened. She went past the bed pretending not to see him. At the window she let the towel fell far enough to expose the graceful curve of her ass. For thirty-nine, Margaret knew she had a super body. It was long and white and unblemished with fat or creases. Well, there were a few. A stretch mark or two from having carried their children. She'd been so young when Mitch had impregnated her that first time. It was strange having a daughter only eighteen years younger than she was. Betty was more like a contemporary than an offspring. Lee was still just a kid though. She'd drawn the line after her second child. She hadn't wanted to see her body used up for childbearing. As if Mitch gave a damn. All he wanted to do was pump her full of cream, and he knew she couldn't use the pill.
She turned suddenly and saw him close his eyes. Yes, he was looking at her. She liked being wanted. She loved sex, too. But there had been a void between her and her husband. It was his attitude as much as anything. His feeling that she was his for the taking. Anytime, anywhere almost. Mitch had even tried to talk her into a quick lay in one of the changing booths at the boutique. The boutique another rift between them. Margaret loved her little store. The rustle of fresh, new dresses. The happy smiles of young girls adorning themselves in the bright cheery booths to step out and twirl before the mirrors. Mitch hated the place. He saw it only as a tax write-off, a folly that entertained his bored wife. If only he knew what really bored her!
She thought of their last fuck as she sauntered back across the room. She stopped by the dresser and dug for a fresh pair of panties. She heard a rustling in the bed, knew that Mitch was looking at her white ass cheeks. She pinched them in instinctively. The last fuck had been much like the ones before. Mitch was the kind of man who could not restrain his passions. She was the weak partner in his fantasies, the one to be abducted or forced or raped. Yes, raped. It was the first time she'd thought of it like that. But that was exactly what Mitch really craved. He wanted to overpower the woman. He wanted to shove her full of his cock and then spurt quickly while she still squirmed in fear and shock. Margaret had not reached orgasm with her husband in more than three years. Oddly enough, she thought of him as a desirable, sexy man. But his idea of how a woman should behave while under a man's body was archaic.
"Hey, you look good today," Mitch said suddenly. Margaret had been about to step into her panties. She paused, tuned to look at him. He was on his back, the sheet thrown away from his nakedness. He had an enormous erection. And though Margaret had tried to remain aloof to his charms, she felt the familiar surge of blood between the lips of her pussy. She felt the tingle of want deep inside her hungry body. Why did she keep wanting him? He was such a God damned lousy lover. For a month she'd resisted letting him even so much as touch her. Because she knew that it would only lead to frustration and anger and tears. There was nothing worse than almost coming. And Mitch was an expert at doing that to her. He seemed almost to sense when she was about to scream in utter ecstasy. And then he'd grunt and grab her viciously and grind out his own hot semen.
"Marge," he whispered, licking his lips, "don't you think it's about time you got a little action?"
"Who from?" she said, frying hard to keep her voice even. "I sure don't get much from you."
"You're the one who has been holding out."
"I get tired of letting you fill me with cream. It's like playing Russian roulette."
"Aw, come on, I wore a rubber last time."
Margaret started to put her panties on again. "You took it off, though, remember? You said it cunt down on the sensation too much." She hated him for that selfish streak. Always thinking about his own pleasure.
"You must be pretty horny by now," he said again. His hand went to his crotch and Margaret gasped as she watched him stroke his cock. It bulged with blood, the head swollen and dark. Mitch had an absolutely lovely cock. It was close to eight inches long and as thick as a bat across the head. She'd had it in every orifice of her body and knew the wonderful pounding heat of it. As long as it lasted, anyway. She was trying to put on her panties. But she couldn't keep her eyes off that thing.
"Mitch, I think you're a pervert." She hoped that the words would close it all off, make him mad, break the mood. But even as she said them, she felt her passion rise. Was she willing to let him rut against her again? Was she willing to let him fuck her just so she could climb tantalizingly close to climax and then lose it, fall spinning into a gloomy depression, which would last the day?
"You love perverts," he smiled, stroking his cock more. It was absolutely huge now! She licked her lips. Mitch grinned broadly. "Come on over here and get it baby," he dared, Margaret gave him a defeated look.
"Mitch, damn it."
"You want this thing sliding up between your thighs. Look at you. You're about to drool." He quickened the movement of his fingers up and down his shaft. Yes, Margaret thought, that's it. Get yourself so hot that you'll pop as soon as you will stick it in. That's just lovely. Just wonderful.
"Mitch," she said again, "could I do it my way this time?" She was surprised she'd even bothered to ask. Mitch was stubborn when it came to sex. He was pretty unimaginative too.
"What do you mean?"
"Can I be on top?"
"I don't know. What's so great about being on top?"
"You seem to think it's pretty great. That's where you always are."
Mitch quit playing with himself. He put his hands behind his head and gave her a look that said she was a little weird.
"Okay baby, have a ball."
Margaret didn't want him to see how her hands were trembling as she climbed onto the bed. The juice had started to flow from her pussy now. God was she hot! It was streaking down the inside of one thigh she was so eager to have that prick pushed inside her. She smoothed her palms over her husband's thighs and belly. Yes, he was a beast but she loved his maleness. Loved it abstractly. He was a machine that had the potential of bringing her great pleasure. She was probably a fool for hoping that he ever would. But then maybe this would be that time. Like before they married, when she came whenever Mitch fucked her tight pussy.
"Just let me," she breathed, holding his shaft firmly between her thumb and first finger. She straddled him and leaned down to let her firm breasts dangle against his chest. The slick noise of her labia opening made her shiver. Mitch put his hands on her shoulders and began to rub her slowly. She squatted more, let her stretched pussy ease back against the head of his cock. It was feverish with blood and she guided it up and down her crevice, covering it with her juice. The lips inside were parted now, her hole tightening and loosening with hungry spasms. She was so tired of that damned vibrator. This was a real cock in her hand now. Mitch's cock. Her husband's cock. She felt the slip of the head as it went in past the circle of muscles that controlled her opening. Her lips parted with excitement.
"Ohhhhhhhhh."
"Damn you're hot," Mitch sighed, his cock jumping as her soft insides surrounded it. She stopped, wanting to enjoy it slowly, wanting to draw the pleasure out. Mitch grabbed her ass and tried to force himself up and in. He wanted it all at once. Damn him! Why couldn't he let her enjoy herself for once?
"Mitch, let me."
"God, baby, you've been holding out on me so long." He dug his fingers into the soft meat of her bottom and fucked upwards from the bed. Margaret pulled up, trying to keep only the head of his prick inside. She succeeded only partly. He was so strong, so eager to have her his way.
"Uhhhhh, Mitch!"
"Margaret, roll aver baby. Let me get you good!"
"Nooooo!"
"Come on, I want to really give you a good fucking."
"Mitch, please."
She straddled her knees wider to keep him from rolling her over. Her pussy was flooding juice now. She could feel the smears wetting the rest of Mitch's shaft even though he hadn't had it really inside her yet. His cocktip swelled and throbbed in the grasp of her hot hole. She wanted to feel it going in inch by lovely inch. She didn't want to be raped.
She kissed her husband's chest, wanting him to enjoy what she was doing. She found a nipple and edged her teeth wound it. Mitch closed his eyes and moaned. His cock thumped harder in her smoldering hole. She wiggled her curvy hips and sank down another inch. The sound of her clasping lips around his shaft made her whimper with lust. Her clit had bulged from its hood. She let her little finger stray down though the dark curls of her pubes to rub the hot nub of joy. Her insides closed around Mitch's big cock and she gave a jerky plunge with her hips, skewering herself another inch and then another. It was wonderful! It was going to do just what she wanted. It was going to make her come. A screaming, furious come that would bring that longed-for satisfaction at last.
"Damn, Margaret, go faster. I can't take that teasing."
"Oh, it does feel good to you doesn't it darling?" She kissed his mouth, his chin, his cheek.
"Sure, but Jesus!"
"Be patient. Can't I take my time this once?"
"Margaret!" He clutched frantically at her ass and drove the rest of his thick cock into her body. It went in with a wet smack of penetration. She wiggled, caught on the spear as Mitch thrust, holding her down on himself. The rub of her clit against his body felt good. She concentrated on that pinpoint of itchy pleasure and tried to enlarge it. Yes, she was feeling the tingling throb of something deep inside. Her body glowed with passion. Her nipples were darker even than they usually were. Her dark hair swayed over Mitch's face as she closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip.
"Whuuuuuhbhh! Mitch!"
"Damn you," he grunted, frying to throw her over onto her back. She resisted, knowing that if she could only just catch it, she'd explode into cries of ecstasy. If she could only catch that darting, tickling pleasure that was tantalizing her flushed pussy!
But she was too weak now to fight her husband and cling to that spark of excitement that burned around the base of her clit. She felt him roll her over, felt him shove her legs wide. Then he grabbed her wrists and bent them back over her head savagely. His big cock went so deep that the mouth of her womb ached with a sudden sharpness. Margaret cried out, felt the tingle of joy slipping away as her husband thrust brutally into her hot wound. He couldn't have fucked her more than four times when he gave a growl and bit the flesh of her shoulder like a starving wolf.
"Ohhh, Mitch. Uhhhhhh! Ghhhuuuhhhh! Mitch! I'm so close!"
"Baby, baby," he groaned, his fingers hurting her flesh. She struggled, tried to get her arms loose. It was futile. She was the one on the bottom. The raped victim whose pleasure came second to her abductor. Already she felt the remaining bit of pleasure slipping from her gasp. Her clit was still tight and hot but seemed to hang in a limbo of tortured timelessness. And Mitch was coming. She could feel the surges through the base of his cock as his frothing cream filled her. It wasn't the most dangerous time of the month but it was dangerous enough. Margaret felt like crying. She was helpless to do anything about it now.
"Ohhh, yeah, baby!" He held her in his animal arms and fucked his cream into her pussy until she wanted to scream. Why did that final moment of pleasure always escape her. When Mitch was on top she wanted to sob with frustration. He changed whenever he rolled her over. He was horrible now, rutting her like she was just a hole he owned for his own pleasure.
"If you're through would you please get up?" she said, voice trembling. She didn't want to cry, didn't want him to know how hurt she felt. Hell, he wouldn't care anyway. He knew all along how she felt. He enjoyed it. Because she couldn't find pleasure only increased his own. She hated the lousy sonofabitch.
Mitch was on his knees now, his big cock dripping shimmering strings of jizz. She felt the stuff ooze from her pussy to wet the sheet. He gave her a glance and strode from the room quickly. She heard the water running in the bath, heard him humming. Margaret wondered about the women who carried little pistols. Pearl-handled pistols. She wondered if she would ever have the nerve to point one of those pretty little things at her husband and pull the trigger. It made her feel good just to imagine it. Though she knew she wasn't really a murderess. She wiped the tears from her eyes and swung her legs off the bed. She went to the closed door of the bathroom.
"Would you mind handing me that little plastic squeeze thing over by the sink," she called.
"What for?" Mitch called back.
"It's spermacide," she said, voice breaking. "I'd prefer not to have another child just now. That is if you don't mind." The door opened a crack and Mitch stuck the bottle at her.
"Hell, no, I always say that a woman's body belongs to her. It's your business what you do with it." The door closed again.
Margaret didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She went back across the room, put a towel on the bed, and sat on the mattress. There were two glossy streaks down her thighs. At least those little tadpoles wouldn't get in to make trouble. She fitted the long douche nozzle onto the bottle and eased it between her outer cunt lips. It slid into her pussy easily and she pushed it as deep as the neck would let her. There was a tingle of excitement as she accidentally brushed her clit. She pushed the nozzle in and out a few times, pretending she was still getting fucked. Then she squeezed the plastic as hard as she could and felt the liquid squirt against her soft insides. Only then did Margaret start to cry.
It was too early to start drinking. Margaret poured herself a drink anyway. She was alone except for Alice's brother, Billy. Mitch had taken Lee and Betty and the slender blonde into town to a movie. Margaret hadn't felt like going in to the boutique today. She felt like hell actually. She dropped a cube of ice into her whiskey and wondered why Billy had decided to stay home. Nice kid. Both of them. Well, there was a certain coyness about Alice that could irritate. But considering how her sister had raised the children, Margaret was astonished that they'd turned out at all. Billy was a little gentleman. Most nineteen year-olds were a little wild at best, criminally insane at worst. The only deviation she'd seen in Betty's behavior was a longing look he'd given to her own daughter. And Margaret certainly couldn't blame her nephew for a little honest lust. After all, Betty was a quite striking girl. But at twenty-one she was a little old for poor Billy. Margaret wasn't even sure if Betty had noticed her tall, blonde cousin.
Jingling her ice, Margaret crossed the living room and looked out the window towards the lake and the island beyond. She took a few swallows and waited for the alcohol to do its thing. She might take the boat out in the lake that afternoon. Or she might go for a swim. But then she burned so badly in the sun. In the back of her mind nestled the activity that she really wanted to engage in. It had to do with her vibrator. Tired as she was of using it for some kind of satisfaction it seemed to always come down to that. And she could make it as enjoyable as she knew how. Like running through the house naked, teasing herself with the thing until at last she would slump exhausted across the big divan and plunge the ivory shaft in and out of her body until the shivering release of exploding passion filled her to overflowing. Margaret jingled her ice cubes, frowned. She'd forgotten about Billy for a moment. She couldn't very well go running through the house in her birthday suit with him on the premises.
But there was the privacy of her own room. She could strip down and enjoy herself for hours. She sipped mote whiskey. Wasn't she really some kind of dope? Why didn't she have a lover in town? She was certainly attractive enough. And it would be so easy. But there was something about an affair. Margaret had shied away from the image of a frustrated wife looking for cheap thrills, with some local stud. She wondered if it wouldn't eventually lead to something like she had at home. Men were so stuck on themselves, and she knew how some guy would feel taking care of her in the bed of a nameless motel out on the highway. He'd probably end up a worse bore than Mitch.
For no special reason her thoughts strayed to her nephew again. He was still in his room she thought. She put her whiskey glass down and walked idly around the room. She knew that soon she would go upstairs and close her bedroom door and undress slowly. Then she would use the vibrator. But it was fun drawing it out. Maybe she would do something different this time. The booze had loosened her up just enough to think unthinkable thoughts.
Margaret was thinking about asking Billy if he would like to share a drink with her. But that was ridiculous. The kid probably didn't even drink. But at nineteen he surely would have had some experience with alcohol, wouldn't he? She remembered their conversation of a few days before. Billy liked sports, liked cars, and liked the usual things teenagers liked. He'd been to college two years and wanted to continue. She and Mitch would see to it that his education continued of course. But God she was getting a little worked up just remembering the way his blond hair curled over his collar and ears. The way he smiled. For a shocking few seconds Margaret found herself wondering what he looked like without his clothes.
"Jesus, I'd better pour myself another drink," she gasped, hurrying towards the liquor cabinet.
Her hand shook as she tilted the bottle. But she stopped before the amber liquid touched her glass. She was thinking that forbidden thought again. Billy's body. It would be lanky and muscular and very white. He had a light complexion like hers. And the hair around his cock would be blond and frizzy.
"I'd better get myself together," she hissed, pouring four fingers of whiskey and spilling two more on the counter. She drank half of it down quickly. But the booze only seemed to make things worse.
Margaret decided to go to her room. She was a little wobbly going upstairs but managed to get down the hall halfway before bumping a shoulder against the wall. It was then she noticed the door to her daughter's room ajar. Betty usually closed it whenever she wasn't around. Of course she may have forgotten. But Margaret paused anyway. Then she heard someone inside. A drawer closed, another opened. Margaret held her breath. It could only be Billy. What was her nephew doing in Betty's room? She eased up to the edge of the doorframe and leaned close.
She could see him standing in front of the dresser. Billy. His chest rose and fell as he gazed at the flimsy pink panties in his hands. Betty's panties. He rubbed the crotchband lovingly and held the dainty things to his face. A flush of hot excitement jolted through Margaret's body. She leaned against the wall, her breasts aching to be touched. She touched one through her silk dress. Her own panties were sopping wet from her juices. She had a sudden rush of desire that made her tremble. She felt like crying. Or doing something crazy. She moved silently away from the door and went back down the hall to Billy's room. His beck was neatly made and there was a paperback novel turned face down on the pillow. She stood there, feeling the masculinity of his presence though she was alone. And then Margaret lifted the hem of her dress and hooked bet thumbs over her satin panties. They came off over her ass in a way that made her moan.
"There. There they are," she gasped, holding the skimpy things up. The crotch was dark with sex butter. She arranged them neatly in the center of Billy's bed and stepped back. It was such a ridiculous thing to do! She reached out as if to snatch them back again but something made her stop. She was panting, her upper lip perspiring from excitement and frustrated desire. Before she could think of what to do, she turned and hurried out of her nephew's room and down the hall. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Her heart pounded. What would he think when he found those bright red undies there in the middle of his bed? Would he know they were hers? And why had she done such a ridiculous thing? She was drunk. Yes, that was it. She should hurry back and retrieve them. How absurd to even consider such a foolish thing. She felt suddenly very wicked, perverse.
"I've got to get them before he gets back to his room," she muttered, slipping into the hall again. She padded barefoot down the thick carpet and saw that the door was as she'd left it. She pushed into her nephew's room without hesitating and then stopped with a little cry of shock. Billy was standing by his bed, her red panties in his fingers. There was a small smear of something glossy on his nose. And Margaret knew at once that her nephew had only seconds before pushed her soppy panties against his face to sniff them.
"I-I…" She blushed, trembled with panic. Billy was blushing too. He looked at the panties and closed his fingers around them. From his other hand dangled the pink ones he'd taken from Betty's drawer. Only then did Margaret see that the boy had a hard-on. It pushed the front of his jeans out in a lump. She could even see the way the head was formed. His cock looked huge. But then how could she know.
Her eyes flicked back to his face again and she saw that he'd noticed her glance. He tried to smile but his embarrassment made the expression into something else. She touched her hair self-consciously. Then she walked straight over to him. She had to look up into his eyes. He was still trembling. Margaret felt the liquor hot in her veins. She put her long fingers up to touch his chin. Such a lovely, young chin. Her red nails dragged lightly across his temples. And then she curled them into the nape of his neck. Opening her lips slightly she put them softly against Billy's. He gave a little gasp of surprise as she tilted her head and let her body ride forward against his. She could feel the lump in his pants now. It was throbbing just like Mitch's cock did when he was hot.
"Aunt Margaret," Billy said finally when she moved her lips to his cheek. "God, Aunt Margaret!"
"If you call me Aunt Margaret again I'll never forgive you." She smiled to let him know she was only kidding. A raging desire raced through her. And close behind was the guilt and fear and shame of what she was doing.
Her nephew was shocked and confused, obviously embarrassed too. But he was aroused by her sudden show of affection. She longed for one of his hands to slide under her dress, slide up her thigh. And then she was running. Out of his room, anyway. God, how could she have done such a thing? What if Mitch found out? Or did she really give a damn if he found out or not? She was sobbing now, wanting a drink bad. She found the bottle and her glass and poured it half full. But the first sip turned her stomach. Her body was feverish and hungry. Her pussy was slippery with her juices and when she ran a hand under her dress to touch the naked spot she gave a lusty little groan.
"I wanted to grab him so bad," she muttered to herself. "What stopped me?"
She imagined her nephew with her panties in his room. What did a young man do with a pair of women's panties? Did he nuzzle and kiss them? Did he wrap them around his hard cock? Just the thought of such things made Margaret's cunt tinge. At last she could stand it no longer and hurried to her room. She noticed on her way down the hall that Billy was back in his own room, the door closed. But she couldn't stop to wonder what he might be doing. She had to get to her vibrator. She had to penetrate her body with the thing and shove it in and out while the buzzing, tickling sensation brought fresh blood to her clit.
She found it in the bottom of a drawer, fell back on her bed and yanked up the hem of her thin dress. Her lips opened easily as she worked the tip between the dainty folds and pressed it up and in. Then she turned the base of the device and her shoulders trembled as the waves of pleasure jolted through her. With her lips curled back from her teeth, Margaret began to slide the plastic cock into her vagina.