Emma woke the next morning tingling and expectant.
For a moment she couldn't remember why. Then she knew. She had had a wonderful sexy time the night before. It was the best sex she had ever had with her husband, even if he did fall asleep right afterward. He always did that.
What she wanted this morning, more than anything, was a morning quickie to revive the bright glow of last night's experience. She rolled over and reached for her husband. He wasn't there.
Alarmed, she sat up in bed and looked at the clock. It was ten-fifteen! She hadn't slept this late in years!
Somehow, waking up to find herself alone depressed her. Not only did it mean she would not get her morning fuck. It also gave a faint hint of disapproval. Why hadn't Harry awakened her, at least to kiss her good-bye? Surely last night had been special for him too?
She slipped into her bathrobe and went into the kitchen, looking for some sign of him, some expression of his love and attention. Maybe he had left her a note.
Sure enough, there, on a page of her memo pad, was a hastily scribbled note. It read: "Whew! That was a heavy night! I think I'm almost back to my old self. Hope you are too. Harry."
Not even a "Love, Harry". Emma was so disappointed she could have cried. But she was too damned angry to cry. Couldn't he have had a little more sensitivity than that? "Back to my old self"! Good God, that wasn't what she wanted. She wanted his new self. She wanted them to be excited, exciting lovers! She had enjoyed getting drunk with Harry. They had never done anything that carefree before!
The more she thought about it, the more Emma realized Harry had been humoring her the night before. He hadn't really wanted to do any of the things she had suggested. She had had to cajole and bully him into it. Sure, he had had a good climax – but he would just as soon have waited till bedtime and done it their usual way. Sober and quick.
Emma felt frustrated. She wasn't going to be her husband's lackey any more. That was all there was to it. She wasn't sure what she was going to do, but she was going to do something. She went into the bathroom and carefully made up her face. Then she put on a shimmery little low-cut yellow top and a matching, hip-hugging skirt. Now all she had to do was figure out where to go to be seen.
She decided what she needed was a little liquid courage. She went to the bar and poured herself a healthy scotch-on-the-rocks. It burned going down, as always. It fortified her.
Just as she was about to leave, she heard a knock on the front door. Feeling hurried and slightly annoyed, she rushed to open it. Much to her surprise, it was the Harrow's Household Helpers man. She smiled and felt an excited tingle all over.
The answer to a maiden's prayer?
Feeling saucy and flirtatious under the mask of her makeup, she motioned the big man in. "Nice to see you again. You certainly are prompt. I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."
He smiled at her and gave a flattering once-over. "I didn't think I'd be by today, but luck was with me." He paused. "You look great, Mrs. Tate… er, Emma."
"Thank you, Bob. Won't you sit down while I look for ray purse?" She knew exactly where her purse was, but she was stalling for time. Did she dare commit herself to what she knew she wanted but what all the rules said was wrong?
Bob was staring at her as she pretended to look for her purse. He was stunned in the difference three days had wrought in this woman. She seemed shy and awkward on Monday morning. Now she seemed very outgoing, very sure of herself. Bob was pleased with this new side of his customer. He too had felt the immediate attraction between them the other day.
Now he was beginning to think it might be possible to do something about it. "I hope I'm not keeping you from anything, Emma." She was, rummaging in the coat closet by the front door. "You look like you were going out. You sure are pretty as a picture." He admired the full ripe swell of her ass as she bent into the closet and fumbled in a jumble of shoes and galoshes.
He was struck by her beauty as she stood up and turned to face him. Her tits were only half hidden by her blouse, and his eyes gravitated to them like a duck to water.
"I was going out," she said. "But there's no hurry about it. I just get bored with being in the house all day, day after day. You know what I mean?"
Ah-hah, he thought lecherously. A bored and frustrated housewife. Horny too, undoubtedly.
"Sure… I know. Anyone as beautiful as you, Emma, should never be bored. All you got to do is step out the door in that outfit, and you'll have all the attention you want."
Emma was aware of his eyes on her tits. She thrust them out proudly. "This is silly of me. I'm always hiding my purse somewhere save, so it won't be lying around if a stranger comes m… not you, of course, Bob." She blinked her wide blue eyes at him trustingly. "Now I can't find it. Oh well, I'll think of where I put it. In the meantime, would you like a drink? I know it's just noon, but I won't tell if you don't."
Bob's cock jerked a little in his pants. This was getting more and more promising. "Sure… I'd love a drink. Mine's bourbon."
She served them both, and sat on the opposite end of the couch from him. She turned and leaned against the arm, tucking her legs demurely under her. This way, he had a full view of her breasts. "So tell me about yourself. How did you ever get a job with…" She laughed. "What's the name again?"
"Harrow's Household Helpers. H.H.H. for short. I was between gigs, and they looked like an up-and-coming outfit. I've only been with them a couple of months, and I'm making a boodle."
"I can understand why. You're a very good salesman." What she really meant was he was a very good-looking guy, but she didn't quite have the nerve to say that. Bold as she was feeling, there were still limits set by the "old" Emma.
"Why, thank you, Emma. And may I tell you you're a very good customer."
They both laughed. Both knew what the other was thinking. They were giving each other signals, coded in the harmless talk of customer-sales relations. They had finished their drinks, and both were tingling with the effects, particularly Emma. She had had two. She rose to make them refills.
"Hey, Emma, go easy on that stuff. You'll have me too drunk to finish my rounds today."
She grinned suggestively at him. The drink was releasing her inhibitions. "So… you're already a day ahead of yourself, aren't you? Maybe you can afford some time off… eh?" She sat a little closer to him on the couch this time.
"Maybe I can." He reached out and drew her closer to him. His mouth bore down on hers. His tongue searched deep up inside her mouth.
"Mmmmmm… nice…" Emma sat her drink down and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. From the first touch of his lips, she knew for certain that this was what she wanted – the excitement of a new, unexplored male. One who was hot and ready for her. Her tongue darted out to dance with his. Her pussy flared inside her panties.
When they finally came up for air, he grinned down at her and began to run his hands over her breasts. "You're quite a woman, Emma. I guessed that before, but now that I'm touching you, I know for sure. You respond beautifully."
His remarks hit home. This man appreciated her sensuality. He was turned on, intensely, as strongly as she herself was. She took a quick glance down at the crotch of his trousers. There was a big promising bulge there.
Acting purely on instinct aided by the hot tingle of the alcohol, Emma reached up and untied her blouse. She slipped it off to reveal the full, pink-tipped orbs to his eager gaze. "Feel them now, Bob. I want you to feel them." She looked down. Her nipples were already hard from the soft caresses he had been administering through her blouse. Now they seemed to leap right into his hands as he touched her. Once again his mouth bore down on hers.
While his hands investigated every curve and swell of her tits, their mouths came to know each other's flavor and preferences.
Emma could feel her pussy responding hungrily. It was throbbing with need. The sensation made her groan into his mouth. She was shocked and disappointed when he drew back from her. She looked at his handsome face, at his broad shoulders and taut chest. Her whole being seemed to leap toward him.
She wanted him so much.
"You're beautiful, Emma." His hands held hers, caressing them softly, as though to sooth her. "I want to kiss you some more, Emma. Will you take off the rest of your clothes for me?"
Her eyes gave him all the answer he needed, but her lips added validation. "Yes."
She raised her ass from the couch as he pulled down her skirt and panties. "My God, you're a beautiful woman!" With her skirt and panties still clinging to her knees, he leaned forward and began to suck her nipples, first one, then the other.
"Ooohhh… oh God, that's good-d-d!" She felt so free, so sexy, to be sitting naked on the couch while this stranger made wonderful tender love to her. The restriction of her clothing around her knees made her feel daring, excited. He wanted her so much, was so overcome by the sight of her naked body, he couldn't wait to investigate her hills and valleys.
His mouth moved down over her stomach, her belly. Emma slumped farther down on the cushions, rested her ass on the very edge. She wanted to give him room to work. Her unacknowledged wish was that his lips would keep on moving down…
"Your skin's so soft, Emma. Tastes so good."
The young housewife hadn't known such sensuous men existed. He was licking her all over, covering her body with a fine film of his saliva. The cool sensation as it evaporated made her tinge all over. She could feel him finally wrestling her skirt and panties free of her feet. Then his hands were pushing her thighs apart.
"Uuuuhh… oh God! Ohhhhhhhh, it's wonderful!" His tongue was licking her pussy-slit, as it had licked her flesh. The sensations were a hundred times as intense as they had been so far. She was so excited, she lifted her ass right up off the couch, following his mouth with her cunt, begging for more.
He looked up at her, through the thick thatch of her pussy-hair. "Mmmm, tastes fine, Emma. You like that, don't you?" She could see the drowsy lust in his eyes. It made her hard little clitoris pulse with desire.
"Yesss… ooohhhh, yes, I like it!" She wriggled her pussy-mound greedily, pleadingly. She looked at him. Her need had made her face slack. "Could you do it some more, please?"
"I want to do it some more, Emma. Just you relax. I'll make you feel real good." Bob was congratulating himself on his good luck. He had discovered early on that one of the fringe benefits of his job was the horny housewives along his route. This one was prettier and sexier than most. And she was hot! The hottest woman he'd seen in a long time!
He began to suck on her clitoris, to tease her pee-hole with the tip of his tongue. She went wild.
Her cunt was thrusting up at his face so hard, he had to grip her ass-cheeks from beneath to hold her firmly.
"Aaaiiieeeee! Oh Gawd, you're killing meeee! It's sooo good-d-d… oh God, almost too good to stand!" Emma closed her eyes and rolled her head from side to side. Into her mind flashed an image of Ken and Helen wrapped in a sixty-nine. Now she was getting hers. She had found a man who really knew how to eat her cunt, and who obviously really liked doing it. It was unbelievable!
Urged on by the woman's excitement, Bob worked his tongue back and forth along the trembling flanges of her pussy. He licked and prodded at her clitoris. He slid it all the way down to her asshole and circled her sphincter.
"Oooohhh… ooooooohhh!" Emma had lost all touch with reality. All she knew was, it was getting better and better. Her whole being was aflame with passion.
For the coup de grace, Bob shot his tongue up inside the brunette's pussy. He began to investigate the folds and valleys of her soft inner flesh. Her cunt-walls clenched spasmodically, trying to catch hold of his tongue, to draw it deeper… deeper.
"Uuuuuuhh… oh God, oh God… I'm cummmm-ing-g-g-g!" It was the most overwhelming orgasm she had ever known. Her mind was a maze of lust. Her body was reeling in orgiastic bliss. There was nothing, nothing in her universe but pleasure. And then the relaxation, the blissful relaxation.
"I can taste it, Emma. You're so wet down there!"
While she moaned softly on the couch, he stood up and started to remove his clothes. As soon as she was aware of his movement, she watched him. She admired the full firm swell of his barrel chest. His strong stomach muscles. His cock was long and hard, ready for her. She swallowed hard as she watched it throb eagerly.
"Your cock… I want your cock!" she murmured mindlessly.
"It's all yours, baby!" Once again he knelt on the rug in front of her. He eased himself in between her thighs and pulled her ass forward. His hard cock smacked against her wet cunt-slit. It found the yielding place and shoved.
Emma closed her eyes. Her face was wreathed in a broad lusty smile. She had what she wanted. His cock was so big and filling in her. "Oooooooohhhh… oh, it's good-d-d! Oooooohhhh, I love it! I love your cock!"
Like a primitive creature, all body, no mind, she ground her ass down against him while he began to thrust his penis up into her. His strokes were slow and rhythmic at first. Then he began to move faster, to vary the rhythm. At times, he would hold back, with his cock-head lodged just inside her cunt. He made her beg for it.
"Oh God, fuck me! Please fuck meeeee!" Her voice betrayed an edge of hysteria. She had never been fucked like this before, by a man so big, so talented. She had never lain naked on her living room couch with a cock fucking relentlessly in and out of her hungry pussy. It was thrilling, totally exhilarating! "Mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmm… mmmmmmmm… yes, yes, yes… Do it like that!"
Bob caught the contagion of the woman's abandoned excitement. He relished the way her cunt-muscles massaged his cock, drew him into her. He loved making her beg for more.
Emma's living room was a hot den of lust. Pants and groans and wriggles of urgent need made the atmosphere heavy with eroticism. Man and woman writhed together in passionate abandon. They were searching each other, investigating each other's inner depths, climbing to the heights together.
"Uuuuhh, oh… You're making me feel sooo… uuuuuhhhhh!"
His lunges were deep and hard now. He was too far gone to bother with the subtleties of playing with her. He wanted guts fucking. He wanted to ream her pussy wide, to blow his wad deep into her jigging belly.
Like two demented animals they lunged their groins against one another. Both gritted their teeth, fighting the seething passions inside. It was a hard climb, but they made it.
"Ooooooh, oh God, I'm cummmmming!" She knew it was the final swell of his hardness that had brought her over the edge. That swell meant that he would not be far behind.
He wasn't.
"Jee-zuz! I'm filling you, Emma baby! Uuuuuhhhh!" The force of his release drained him. He lay his head on her breasts and clung to her for several long minutes. At last he had the energy to pull his prick from her pussy. A long thread of cum connected them. He sat on the couch next to her and held her in his arms.
"Wow, Emma… that was fine! You were right! There was no way I could have spent my day better than this!"
"You did things to me, Bob! Things I don't even understand! I've never felt so… soooo…"
She bit her lip and closed her eyes. Her face wore a look of ecstasy. She was remembering.
"It was good for me too. Dried me out, though. How about a pick-me-up?"
Their experience had revitalized Emma. She leapt to her feet, full of energy. She went into the kitchen and fixed them a tray of cold cuts and a salad. They sat at the dining-room table, naked, and ate hungrily. A bottle of cold Blue Nun accompanied their meal.
Emma was celebrating. She was celebrating her coming of age as a woman. She had never felt so free, so sensual – and so free to be sensual. Bob had brought out the woman she had been trying to liberate last night.
"More wine?" Her blue eyes assessed him hungrily as she lowered the bottle to his glass.
"Not too much. I don't want to lose control of myself. There's a lot more I want to find out about you this afternoon."
Emma giggled like a girl. Her cunt throbbed expectantly against the cool leather of the chair. There was more she wanted to find out about herself this afternoon – like just how much she could take.
They fucked twice more before Bob left. By then it was five o'clock. Harry was expected home in a half hour.
Emma sang to herself as she showered and dressed in preparation for her husband's homecoming. She had found out what she wanted to know.
She could take a lot. She could have taken more, if it hadn't been for Harry. She didn't want him to know she had a lover. Not yet, anyway.
She masturbated herself to sleep that night, thinking of Bob and what he had taught her.