A little background.
I was your typical housewife. You know, the traditional bored variety.
I had everything a woman is supposed to have to be happy. A nice house in the suburbs. A hard-working husband. Two healthy children.. A stationwagon in the garage for my own use. A generous household allowance.
And, of course, I was thoroughly miserable.
I wanted to fly, not have my feet planted firmly on the ground. And the new permissiveness of the 1970's had not made my life any easier.
I would watch these talk shows. You know, the ones with Masters amp; Johnson and Xaviera Hollander on them, and think. Is this all there is? There's something missing in my life.
For all our prosperity, my life was devoid of excitement. When all was said and done, I was just a glorified maid. The sum-total of my existence was wrapped up in cleaning and cooking and meeting the demands of other people.
What about me? What about Betty?
I'd had such romantic dreams when I'd married. I'd been certain that Ted was my Prince Charming. That we would always be blissfully happy.
But living happily ever after just occurs in fairy tales, as I'd ruefully learned. Life is a struggle, even for a member of the American middle-class.
Especially a female member.
Your kids, your husband-they've all got the outside world to go to. But a housewife? She's stuck.
The home is like a prison. More and more lately, my goal had been to break out.
But how?
For all my complaining, I still loved my husband and kids. The last thing I would ever do was abandon them. Somebody had to take care of them, and that was my job.
If there was only some way I could still be a wife and mother and get my kicks at the same time. Some way for me to achieve inner fulfillment as a woman, while still caring for my family.
I was sitting around thinking about this after Buzz had left. There was a ton of laundry to be done, floors to be waxed, and grocery shopping to be done, but my sanity was at stake. And something told me that the answer to my dilemma might be wrapped up in my adventure with the teenage gardener.
My interlude with Buzz had.. been unique because, while it was happening, I had actually been spiritually and emotionally transported away from my daily drudgery. I had always assumed that if I ever had an affair I would be consumed by guilt. On the contrary, however, I felt especially good about what I had done.
In fact, if the truth were known, I couldn't wait to try it again.
Maybe, I dared to think, this is the answer. Fooling around. After all, hadn't I seen so-called experts on television talk shows maintaining that extramarital sex could sometimes help a stagnant marriage? I hadn't believed them up until now, but maybe…
I mean, no marriage was more stagnant than Ted's and mine.
And I had to admit, Buzz had made me feel fantastic. What could possibly be wrong with that? With feeling good for a change?
Then, as I sat there pondering my situation, it began to dawn on me. If I had the courage to go and follow my instincts, there was a way out of my domestic prison. And, best of all, I didn't even have to physically leave it. I could still do the cooking, cleaning, and all the rest of it, and he happy besides.
"A secret life," I whispered the logical alternative in awe. "Nobody will know but me. Nobody will be hurt."
I quickly convinced myself that it could only help the family. If I was happier, then it only stood to reason that Ted and the kids would be happier. And, who knew: my sex life with my husband might even improve.
Feeling like a new woman for having arrived at this conclusion, I jumped out of my chair and charged into my household duties. The quicker I polished them off, the sooner I would be free to plunge into my new life-style. Euphoric with my dramatic decision, I was already horny again, even though I had just finished fucking a teenage boy.
The laundry and the floor-waxing went easier than they had in years. I just whizzed right through them. In a couple of hours I had completed these tasks, and still had most of the afternoon in front of me. Only grocery shopping remained, and in its case I had decided to combine business with pleasure.
In the past I had always done my marketing at a nearby shopping center, where everyone knew me. Now I drove across town, looking for a store where no one would recognize me. Needless to say, I had more on my mind than roasts, detergents and vegetables.
I found what I was looking for in the frozen foods section-and I'm not talking about TV dinners. There was an incredibly handsome man there, looking at the meat pies. Immediately I wanted him.
"Are you a bachelor?" I sidled up next to him and broke the ice. "You don't see many men in the supermarket at this time of day."
He laughed, making himself even more attractive. "No, my wife and kids are out of town. I'm having to take care of myself for the first time in years."
"Maybe I could help you," I said. "If there's one thing I know about, it's shopping for groceries."
"All right," he agreed. "What's better-the beef or the turkey pies?"
"Neither," I laughed. "The best I can say about any of this stuff is that it'll keep you alive. Since you're on your own, why don t you treat yourself to something special. A fling."
"I never thought of that," he shook his head. "Why not?"
"Come on," I took him by the hand. "I'll show you where the fresh meats are. And the vegetables. Cheeses. And how about a bottle of wine?"
I was charmed by his enthusiasm. By the time I had helped him fill his cart with goodies, he was bubbling with excitement, just like a kid.
"I think I'll go right home and cook all of this stuff," he said. "I can't wait to eat it."
"Oh, do you know how to cook?"
His ecstatic expression abruptly drooped.
"What's wrong?"
"I forgot about that detail," he muttered. "Cooking. I'm afraid I can't even boil water. All this food will go to waste once I put my hands on it."
It was time to make my move. "I'm not doing anything this afternoon," I said. "How about if I tag along with you and cook it for you? After all, I talked you into buying all this stuff-the least I can do is show you what to do with it."
A man doesn't often receive an offer like this. I could tell it made him nervous, but my persistent smile melted his apprehension.
"Okay," he finally went along with my suggestion. "I guess I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth."
I followed him to his place in my car. He lived in a suburb on the other side of the city from mine. In other words, the location was perfect, nobody would know me there. When I finally left, nobody would know that I bad been in his house but him and me.
Once we were inside his ranch-style home, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Actually I didn't have to use the toilet, but I was anxious to remove my underthings. When I made my move, I didn't want any bra or panties in the way.
Out of the bathroom, I marched right into the kitchen and prepared a gorgeous meal. Maybe I wasn't the greatest cook in the world, but I poured whatever I had into this one.
We ate heartily, polishing off the bottle of wine in. the process. We were both feeling exceptionally comfortable when we sat down on the sofa for after-dinner conversation and drinks. Considering the good time we were having, there seemed nothing out of the ordinary that we were sitting so close together we were touching.
He'd said his name was Hank. Maybe it was an alias for the occasion, I don't know. I say this, because I'd told him my name was Andrea instead of Betty. Andrea sounded sexier, and besides it would further obscure my actual identity.
"Whew," Hank exhaled, "I can't remember when I've eaten so much. I feel as though I've gained ten pounds."
I looked down at his belly. Sure enough, it was straining at his belt with all that food inside it.
"Why don't you loosen your pants," I cunningly suggested. "I'll understand."
Ordinarily I suppose he would have looked at me askance. However, Hank had a half a bottle of wine and most of his after-dinner drink inside him, so his inhibitions were considerably diminished. He didn't even mind when I undid his belt for him and unsnapped his trousers.
"There," I said. "I'll bet that feels a lot better."
"Thanks," he grinned, "it sure does."
I engineered a pause, during which I looked at his lap. Then I struck: "I know something that would feel even better. Especially with your wife away, and all."
"You're the boss," he grinned some more.
There was no point in saying it. I just did it.
Before Hank could guess my intention, I dropped my hand into his lap and unzipped his fly. I had his cock out before he could move.
It was a big one-just like I'd planned on. It wasn't hard yet, but I had plans for that, too.
"Wha-what are you doing?" Hank stammered, but he certainly didn't sound as though he wanted me to stop.
"Just think of it as an after-dinner treat," I cooed, and then dropped my face to his crotch. The first taste of his prick made me orgasm all by itself.
He squirmed on the sofa, but he didn't try and move away. And even if he had been so disposed, he couldn't have my oral grip had already descended halfway down his quickly stiffening shaft.
I sucked his cock all the way down to his nuts. Nuts that were now out in the open and churning.
"Mmmmm," I announced when he was fully erect. "I love your prick. I hope you'll like my pussy. Lord knows, ft's wet enough."
He automatically reached for the crux of my thighs. I had manipulated him into a position that by now no red-blooded male could resist. When I pulled up my skin, my bare twat was there waiting for him and he was a goner.
"Stick your fingers inside," I told him. "I'll suck your cock some more while you fingerfuck me."
I didn't wait for an answer. Hungry for prick, I closed my lips over his standing organ once again and swallowed it to the hilt. At the same time, Hank introduced three of his fingers into my slit and began probing.
We kept this up for several minutes, getting hotter and hotter. By the time we decided to go on to better things, my mouth was working like an oral cunt and Hank had his entire hand in my creaming snatch.
"Time to fuck." I released his hard-on. "My pussy s so hot I think I've got blisters on my thighs."
Hank was breathing hard, too aroused to talk. His wordless reply to my proposal was to grab my blouse and rip it from my torso. Here my bra-less condition paid off, as my lover was presented with the immediate sight of my bare, bobbing breasts.
"How do you like my tits?" I proudly inquired, noticing that my turgid nipples resembled fresh strawberries.
Still mute, Hank thrust his face between my heaving jugs and clasped them to his cheeks. While he was doing this, I grabbed his stiff cock and began pulling it toward my fuck-hungry cunt.
"Do it to me, Hank!" I implored. "Fuck me while you're eating my tits!"
As I slid down on my back, Hank worked his way between my legs. Right away the head of his prick rubbed against my ultra-sensitive labia, searching for the dewy slit of my soul.
"Stick it in!" I cried. "Jesus, I want it so bad!" He gave it to me. With a violent pelvic surge, Hank rammed his tool to my depths on the first try. I wiggled my ass from the tight, tight fit.
Now we really began fucking. All the while Hank kept his mouth on my tits, using his tongue and lips all over their tingling expanse-especially the nipples.
I wrapped my legs around him, making his phallic penetration even deeper. Hank's cock felt even bigger than Buzz's had. I couldn't help but wonder if he made love to his wife with as much passion as he was doing to me, a complete stranger.
The head of his cock was maddeningly chafing within my womb. Hank's teeth were gnashing against one nipple and then the other. I was experiencing orgasm both downstairs and upstairs.
And now it was my lover's turn to come.
"Let go, Hank!" I screamed. "Fill my pussy with your hot, sticky jizz!"
His cock lurched within me, seeming to penetrate all the way to my spine. I wouldn't have been surprised if his phallic lunge had cracked my vertebrae. Hank's big moment was here.
"Oooooohhhh!" he released the air from his lungs, as he simultaneously released the cum from his nuts. There was an explosion between my legs and my cunt was abruptly swamped.
I scissored bun, trying to tighten the muscles of my pussy so I could keep all of his glorious gunk inside me. It was so hot-felt so good-I didn't want to sacrifice a drop of the precious fluid.
But there was too much of it for one woman to hold. After it had engorged every nook and cranny of my fuck-canal to the depths of my uterus, the cum-flow reversed direction and came spewing out. In fact, the force was so great that Hank's prick was pushed out of my cunt in the outpouring.
Suddenly my thighs were awash with the milk of my lover's seed. I was hemorrhaging with sperm.
Orgasming to the point of delirium, I twitched and writhed until I toppled off the sofa. When I came up for air, I was on my knees and looking straight at the vertical smile of flank's prick.
Yes, yes, his cock was still as hard as ever. So far he was matching the teenage Buzz in sexual energy. I just knew his wife couldn't do this for him..
I kissed his prick, lapping away the gooey remainder of his first ejaculation. Then I said: "How do you want to fuck me next?"
He looked at me as though he'd just discovered buried treasure. Obviously Hank hadn't been getting many offers like mine from his wife lately.
"Wh-where would y-you like it?" he self-consciously stammered, apparently unable to believe his good fortune in hooking up with me at the supermarket.
"Wherever you feel like sticking that great big prick of yours," I left it up to him. "Anywhere and anyway you want to fuck me is what's going to make me come the most. All I want to do is please you.
He slipped off the couch and joined me on the floor. "I-I've always w-wanted to do t-this," he muttered, placing his hands on my shoulders and forcing me down to my elbows so I was on all fours, resembling a bitch in heat.
When I was positioned in the way he preferred, he moved around behind me. There, he sunk his fingers into the crack of my ass and pried my buns apart. I could feel his hot breath wafting against my exposed anus, as he poked his face in for a close peek at my most intimate orifice.
Then there was a finger, a finger probing my rectum. Sliding within me and wiggling around. I felt an immediate spasm all the way up to my colon.
"More fingers," I pantingly told him. "Spread the hole apart so your dick will fit when you get ready to fuck me."
Two, three fingers crammed within my tight shit-pit. The two outer ones spread, whit the third pushed forward. I moaned with pleasure.
When Hank removed his fingers from my asshole, I told him to lick it. "Make it sloppy with your spit," I instructed. "The wetter you make it, the easier your dick will slide in."
At last he was ready for the phallic descent. It was his cockhead between the cheeks of my ass now, and it was knocking at my door.
"Shove!" I screamed, wanting it as badly as I'd ever wanted anything in my life.
"Ooooommph!" he grunted, and his dick took over. It jammed inside me like a spike, ripping up the narrow canal to my bowels.
"Deeper! Deeper!" I begged. "All the way!"
Even with the preparations, it was an extremely tight fit, Hank's cock was so big. However, neither of us would accept anything but the ultimate. This meant he had to keep pushing and straining, and I had to endure a pain so intense it felt as though I were being disemboweled.
I loved it. God, it hurt so good!
Then, when I could feel his balls roiling against my backside, I knew we had done it. Hank was fucking my ass to the hilt. Now it was time to relax and enjoy it.
He was even better at cornholing me than he'd been servicing my pussy. His huge cock felt even more immense and longer in my anus than it had a notch below. And the friction created by his steadily pumping motion was an orgasm-giver of a stellar degree.
I couldn't see the action, so I closed my eyes and imagined it. Imagined the sight of Hank's stiff dick whipping in and out of my tightest orifice. My anal ridges tugging like a noose around his pistoning shaft. His balls contracting and contracting, drawing up within him as they prepared to force the cum out with their extreme pressure.
I wanted to scream, sing, cry, bay at the moon. Shout to the world that at last I had found a to get what I deserved out of life.
"Come! Come!" I gave in to my desire to let it verbally all hang loose. "Come, you big-cocked bastard!"
Hank responded to my epithet as I'd hoped he would. The more passionate the lovemaking, the more vigorously the partners seem to respond to obscenity. I'd learned that lesson by talking dirty to Buzz, and now I was going to the well again with my second fling of the day.
"I want your cum!" I shrieked. "Fill my ass! Cum from your big, big prick, son of a bitch!"
"Whore!" Hank got into the swing of things. "Only a filthy whore likes it in the ass!"
"Right!" I readily agreed, at the top of my lungs. "I'm nothing but a whore, and you're my fucking pimp!"
That bit of spontaneous invective turned the trick. Hank's prick expanded that extra bit so well known to women as the harbinger of ejaculation, and then did its duty.
This time the cum seemed like shrapnel, as it tore into my tenderest depths. Having your womb flooded with jizz is one thing; but the irrigation of your colon is something even more. It feels like someone has poured hot lead up your ass.
Once again I tried to keep it all inside me. And, once again, it was impossible.
The flow dramatically reversed itself, squirting out with even more intensity than it had entered. For the second time during a fuck, Hank's hard-on was expelled by the pressure. Cum was shooting from my ass through the air, and then pooling as it landed on the floor.
When it was finally over, Hank's cock was finally wilting. Well, he's no teenager, I thought, but he makes up in quality what he lacks in quantity.