"It's quarter to three. My husband will be home in less than ten minutes," the naked woman on the bed said lazily.
Darleen's new lover jumped quickly to the floor and dressed in the dark with the hurried precision of a man who had known many close calls with faceless husbands.
"Why did you tell me you were divorced?" he asked.
"Never trust a woman," Darleen laughed and turned her back to him as he quickly left the room checking all his belongings as he ran down the stairs to his car parked in the driveway.
Darleen didn't know his name. She hadn't even bothered to ask. Four hours ago she had been sitting in Peter Grant's discotheque, Grant's Tomb, and the young man had sat beside her and bought her a few drinks. In return she gave him some small talk and a wild hour in her bed. She was still excited and not completely satisfied. No matter how hard she tried with so many other men, only Martin satisfied her the way she wanted. The adulterous act of sleeping with men other than her own husband only increased the excitement of making love with him. Her other lovers were only preparation for each night's romp with her husband.
"That was a pretty wild getaway he made. He nearly knocked over the garbage cans," Martin said, framed in the doorway by a small hallway light silhouetting his large, husky frame.
"He decided rather hurriedly to leave," she said, smiling. "How did it go with you?"
He crossed the room like a man who had just won an election. The sureness of his step showed Darleen that she need not have asked. He slid open the closet and began undressing.
"It was easier than I thought," he said. "She was hornier than I had anticipated. We only spent an hour at the club and by the time the dancers had finished she was ready to go right there."
"Well, don't be so damn smug," she said. "And come and tell Mama how you did it."
Martin related the story to his wife, exaggerating slightly. Darleen was hurt as she always was when he told her of his affairs, but excited by his story, imagining herself writhing in the front seat of the car under his powerful thrusts.
Her eyes were glazed when she asked, "What happened afterward? Is she going to tell Greg? Did you use the embezzlement?"
"Don't worry about a thing, sweetheart," he said, crossing the room toward the bed. "I've done this so many times to so many sniveling little wives that it's almost a repeated dialogue. We'll have no trouble from her and soon you shall be able to try Greg on for size. You'll like that, won't you?"
Darleen turned her head into the pillow, not wanting to look at her husband as he sat on the end of the bed. "Martin, please," she pleaded. "You always make it sound so dirty. Why is it that I'm always at fault when I'm with another man and you… you're such a saint. There's never anything wrong with your activities. Why am I always nothing but a whore?"
She faked a sob, but no tears came to her eyes. Whenever the two of them had found other lovers for the night, they repeated the same scene afterward. Neither was serious, but Martin enjoyed tormenting her and calling her names as much as she enjoyed the suffering at his hands. He played the roll of injured husband and she the role of the unfaithful wife.
He would shout at her, call her names and she would respond to the whip of his tongue, each painful word a delightful snap at her backside. She could feel herself moistening between her legs in anticipation. Her nipples, already erect, awaited his touch, his kiss that she knew would come soon.
They had been married fifteen years and for nine of those years they had been taking other lovers and swapping partners with couples they met. Most of the couples would soon fall out of the arrangement, usually moving out of town, or at least across the county. Many of the men would find work elsewhere in the area to avoid contact with Martin. More than a few couples had ruined their married lives by contact with the Kellys, but other people's fate was not the Kelly's concern. They were holding their own, Darleen thought, precariously, but holding their own. Her body shifted on the bed as he changed positions. "Whore," she heard him say quietly. "You're just a whore with a gold band on her finger. You'll never be anything but a whore. You've always been one and nothing you can do will change that."
She loved the words. She was no good, she thought, and deserved all that he was saying. There had been many lovers before Martin, and scores since they had been married. But one thing kept them together. No man could please her as he did. No man was cruel enough, hard enough or could give her what she needed.
Most of her lovers were only preludes to what would come to her at home. A single climax with any of them was not what she needed. They were her tools to excite her before she knew she would be taken by Martin when she finally got home. He would torment her and curse her, but then when he finished with the insults, he would screw her like no man would ever dare.
She shuddered with delight. "Whore," he said again, this time louder. "You'd take any man any time. How can you live with yourself!" His voice was stern, but she could detect the note of pain in it, the pain of a man who had been wronged. They were both good actors for this scene that took place at least three times a week and she always knew what was coming next.
She braced herself. His slap was hard. A red mark rose on her buttocks where he had hit her. Her whole bottom tingled. "Oh, don't," she cried, knowing that he would do it again and excite her even further. He slapped her again and the soft flesh of her smooth, silky buttocks quivered like flaccid jelly.
"You'd even go to bed with that brute, Monroe, if he came to you," he said, his voice feigning a threat. Monroe was Peter Grant's bodyguard. He had been a former professional football player and his six foot five inch frame held two hundred and sixty pounds of solid muscle. He guarded Grant twenty-four hours a day, keeping his employer from any harm. As a nightclub operator in Los Angeles, Grant had made many deadly enemies as well as friends. He and his wife knew the Kelly's intimately.
"No, Martin, never him. He's too big, he'd kill me!"
"Do you mean to say I'm not as big as he is. Have I ever split you, have I ever hurt you like you think he would?"
"Oh, yes, my darling. But him, he's an animal. I couldn't take his hairy body on me."
"What about Janet? Do you think she could take him?" he asked his wife. Her torment increased as he slapped her bottom again.
"Yes, yes, Janet. He could take Janet and we could watch. Oh, Martin, I'd like to watch that brute screw her until she screamed for mercy!"
"You would like to see her hurt, wouldn't you?" he said. "She would beg him for mercy, just like you beg me – right?"
"Yes, please, oh, yes," she cried as he slapped her again.
"Then we will, you wait and see," he said, and pulled at her body, turning her roughly on her back.
They stared at each other for a moment. Darleen's tear-filled eyes could see her husband's sadistic smile. They both would enjoy seeing the girl screwed by Monroe. Darleen would get her revenge against this girl she had always had the fear might possibly take her husband away from her.
She always had feared that one of his partners would take him from her, for Darleen knew she lived on the edge of disaster. If Martin found a woman that could please him more than she could, then their life together would be over. There was no hope that she could find a man who could do for her what he did. Janet would suffer for being so beautiful, for luring her husband into bed.
It was always the other girl's fault, never Martin's. His weakness was beautiful women, and Janet qualified as a temptress by being born beautiful. But she would pay and pay dearly, Darleen thought. There was no other way for the girl. Janet asked for whatever was coming to her. Darleen would insure a double reprisal by seducing Greg. It was only fair.
Martin looked at her, knowing what she was thinking. He always knew what he would conjure up in her mind by mentioning the women that he had just finished with. He knew that Darleen needed revenge to reassure her position. She was alive and fiery, and could please him as no one could. The gulp of loaded gin he had taken before leaving Janet's was at its full force. He was ready now to plunge into his wife.
They both laughed and he fell on top of her, nearly crushing her with his weight as he sought her mouth and covered it with his lips, kissing hard, sucking at her tongue as she plunged it wetly between his teeth. Darleen sucked hungrily at his lower lip, tracing the hard tip of her tongue against the insides of his mouth. Their lovemaking was ritual, but never boring. It was always like the first time for her. The excitement of seeing him naked and aroused was enough to bring her almost to a climax. She always had to hold back for this man, bathing in the pleasure he gave her.
His hands caressed her sides as he lifted himself and rearranged them on the bed, placing her head on the pillow. She felt him kissing her ear, nibbling at the soft, tender lobe, then run his tongue lightly down her neck, across her shoulders to her perfectly formed breasts. He toyed momentarily at her erect nipples and she moaned and quivered beneath him as she felt his moist lips nip at the sensitive, quivering bud.
He had brought her to climax before just by sucking at her nipples, but she knew that he wanted more this time. She knew that his screwing of Greg's wife had only made him want her more.
She moaned as he kissed her soft, flat belly. There was no fat on her body and its softness was feminine, relaxed. Her anticipation only heightened her excitement. She knew that his lips were working their way down and would soon be kissing the soft velvety fleece that curled around her yearning vagina.
As he caressed her with his lips he slowly turned his body around so that his penis neared her head. He ran his tongue to the top of her vaginal slit and parted the moist pink lips with his tongue, at the same time lifting one of his legs over her head and placing it on the other side. His huge prick and testicles hung directly above her face. She grasped the organ with one hand and stroked it softly. The sensations that rose from between her legs as he licked her shot all the way to her brain. The soft, moist sweetness that he was kissing was on fire. Each touch of his tongue was like dry ice, its heat was so intense. She murmured softly and brought his hardened cock closer to her lips, studying it with her eyes.
A small drop of clear liquid poised at the tiny slit-like opening under the smooth, blood-filled head. She leaned forward and kissed the tip, brushing away the small drop of lubricating fluid as she did. Then she parted her lips farther, placing a small fraction of the large crown against her lips, teasing gently with her tongue while down below every touch of his tongue in the soft, pink flesh between her legs lit a small new fire in her.
She slid the whole head of his massive organ into her mouth and pulled the foreskin tightly back, teasing the exposed glans with the wetness of her lips. "Oooohhh," he moaned. She knew that she was pleasing him, but she knew always she would. Again she rocked her head slightly, stroking only the head with her mouth. She spread her legs farther to give him greater access to the warm, moist cavern between her thighs.
She could feel his tongue snaking hungrily up into the passageway, hard and searching. The tip played with the flesh at the entrance, rolling in small circles at the tender, hairlined flesh. She sucked more of his rubbery blood-filled cock into her mouth, sure to moisten the flesh with her saliva as she did. The veins throbbed with his pulse. She sucked harder until half of it was in her throat, and already she started to gag. No man could have an organ like this, she thought. In all her experience, no one had ever been as big. She held back the choking and proceeded farther, more slowly, to get as much of it as she possibly could deep into her throat.
The tip rubbed against the roof of her mouth. It almost tickled and would have if she had not been so excited. All she could think of was the cock which lay in her mouth as she sucked, rocking her head back and forth, and the lips and tongue that chewed almost child-like at her cunt below.
She flexed the muscles in her thighs. Her attention to the pleasure of her burning body was complete and unhindered. Every touch, every breath was a new sensation. She needed no instruction to open her lips wider, then firmly re-grasp the great massive cock in her mouth. She moaned, "Mmmmmmm," with the twitching cock still sunk deep between her sucking cheeks.
Martin had expected the humming. He needn't tell her what pleased him as he had to do with the other girl that night. Darleen started humming up and down a scale of deep-throated notes, vibrating the muscles of her throat against the aching head of his prick.
He ate at her voraciously. The sweet smell and taste of her exuding excitement made him only want more of the delicious nectar. She writhed her hips upward, trying to enclose him with the pink lips of her aching cunt. "Please, Martin," she begged. "Please, now."
He responded slowly at first, regretful to take his lips from the hot, fiery meal between her legs. She released his cock from her mouth and watched as he suddenly turned around and fell upon her. He held himself above her for a moment, then, with the head already in position he slid his cock along the short length between her clitoris to its pink, open target where it slipped in, unheeded by any obstacle.
She fit him perfectly. His cock found its place as if it were a hand slipping into a tailored glove. There was no room for error. Their bodies were molded to perfection after years of making love to each other. They knew all the tricks that pleased.
The ecstasy of the moment rose within her as they thrust together, harder and harder in perfect rhythm. Again and again he stroked, hard, long strokes, the massive cock caressing the smooth inner walls of her vagina. The rubbery tip found its mark at her cervix and pummeled it hard as he thrust deeper and deeper into her. The half dark room lit up in strange colors, blinding flashing, mingled with the electrifying shocks that shot through her body to the seeming depths of her very being.
They were both ready. She could feel the rhythmic muscles of her abdomen begin to contract spasmodically. "Oh, oh, ohhhh!" she panted. The sound of her voice told him she was ready. They would come together as they almost always did. The pressure in his balls was too much.
As if he had been struck by lightning, he jerked forward. His swollen balls burst, with the fiery liquid that they had been holding back for this cataclysmic moment. Sperm shot deep into her cunt, filling her with the warmth of desire that would culminate in a few distant seconds. "I'm cumming," he yelled at her between breaths. "No, I'm cummmmiiinnngggggg!" as the last warm, smooth jets of sperm shot far up into her churning body.
She arched her back. Every muscle in her body contracted as she rose up and almost fell to the side in an almost epileptic attack of contraction. Her sphincter clenched and opened like an angry fist. Her buttocks flexed to rock hardness as her orgasm hit. "I-I, me too, my darling, I'm cummmmiinngggggg, nowwwww!" she screamed as the power of her body unleashed at the moment she had been waiting for all night.
There was no time, no space, no motion in the world, only the unbelievable experience of her climax as she was hit again and again by the spasmodic twitching of every muscle in her body. And then, too soon, it was over, his cock still jerking inside her, slowly deflating and losing its strength. They both lay exhausted. As always, they could hardly move. They had used as much effort as any Olympic champion might when sprinting the last of his race. Every muscle had been strained and used to its limit, every emotion had been attained.
He slid off her and kissed her cheek. He was a man, she thought. Her man! No one else could ever have him like this. Her mind vaguely remembered what she must do to set that young bitch, Janet, up for revenge. Darleen hoped she need not worry about the younger woman, but she would be sure, very sure. She closed her eyes and fell asleep gleefully planning her next move for Janet and Greg Richards.