Kirk Young adjusted his tie and smoothed a hand along the side of his carefully combed red hair, both gestures for the twentieth time since he and Vicki had left their small bungalow to drive to the Kaye's Glenview Hills home shortly before nine that night. He felt nervous excitement at the prospect of this evening with the eminent faculty member. He had come into close contact with Dr. Kaye only once, briefly, when he had picked Vicki up at work one night, and had been impressed by the man's bearing; one of these days, and in the not too distant future, he would have that kind of stature – both physical and professional.
Kirk looked at the lovely, raven-haired figure of his young wife as they prepared to traverse the ribbon of concrete leading to the Kaye's expansive home. She wore a simple black shift which clung to her full, ripened breasts and perfectly rounded buttocks; it ended just above her knees – not too long, not too short; it accentuated the long litheness of her beautiful legs. She had her hair down tonight, as he liked her to wear it, strands of the long dark tresses curling around to frame her face and rest on the upswell of her lush young bosom. She was a vision in radiant beauty, Kirk thought. Yet, there was something troubling her he could see it reflected in her soft, dark-brown eyes!
The young husband had sensed her inner unrest the moment he had come home from the basketball tournament a little past six. She had seemed withdrawn, ashamed about something. When he had asked her if anything was wrong, she had told him it was nothing at all and averted her eyes. He couldn't for the life of him figure out what could have upset her that way she wasn't normally given to moods and periods of depression; but then, one never knew what it was that was bothering women most of the time, anyway. Probably some inconsequential matter that would, if she relented to explain, seem patently silly as a basis for such anguish.
He had thought for awhile after he'd come home that she was going to remain moody and uncommunicative, but she had responded to his joking, light banter and seemed to snap out of it somewhat. She was smiling now as they approached the huge, multi-level home, but he could still discern that indefinite troubled air about her. Well, at least she wasn't completely undemonstrative; a few drinks, and she'd come out of it once and for all, become giggly the way she always did after the second drink of any kind of liquor.
Kirk whistled softly under his breath as he escorted his voluptuous young wife to the Kaye's door. In the structure's subtly lit alcove, he spotted an ebony black door with polished gold knob and knocker. "Man, this is what is vulgarly known as the creme de la creme," he whispered to Vicki. "We are consorting with members of the upper echelon tonight, sweetheart; our future peers, if I may be so modest."
"You may say so, sir," Vicki said with an effort at a frivolous tone to match that of Kirk's. "It's going to be a fun evening, isn't it, honey?" There was an almost plaintive hunger on that last sentence.
"That it is," Kirk assured her. He put his arm around her shoulder affectionately, then lifted the gold knocker. He let it fall, and the sound echoed like a temple gong in the small alcove.
Almost immediately, the door was opened and the sanding face of Dr. Eric Kaye looked out at them. He wore a gold lounging jacket with a matching silk cravat, knife-creased black slacks, and doeskin loafers; his salt and pepper hair was immaculately combed in a hair-do that obviously had just been barbered. His smile widened as his bright gray eyes roamed approvingly over his female assistant. "You look absolutely the image of Aphrodite tonight, Vicki my dear," he said with genuine enthusiasm. "Positively gorgeous."
The young brunette wife blushed appreciatively. "Why… thank you, Dr. Kaye!"
Eric beamed at her and then turned to Kirk. They shook hands warmly. "Good to see you again, my boy," the suave professor said.
He took Vicki's arm and ushered the two young people inside, shutting the door behind him.
They were in a huge living room furnished in imported Danish modem with tastefully chosen representations on the walls and indirect lighting to accentuate the largeness of the area. There was a large red brick fireplace, with a wide hearth stacked with cordwood and wrought iron fixtures, that comprised more than half of one side wall. At the other end was a large, oiled walnut bar with four stools in dark leather, its surface covered with crystal decanters and glassware containing liquor of every conceivable kind. The entire rear wall was a huge view window with sliding glass doors that opened out onto a balcony that ran the width of the structure. Blue drapes which matched the shag carpeting had been drawn back, and the splendor of Glenview as seen through winter rain was revealed to their eyes. The winking lights of the college community were reflected in the silver droplets beading the glass.
On a long, low couch near the center of the cavernous room sat a strikingly beautiful woman in a shimmering silver lame gown that seemed to Vicki to be scandalously short. She had long, silver-blonde hair and a wide scarlet mouth, and her beauty was loud and sensual where Vicki's was quiet and somewhat virginal. She rose as the Youngs approached with her husband, and smiled with those moist warm lips; the lame dress rustling with husky whispers as she moved, clinging like a second skin to her rich, high breasts and sharply defined, protruding buttocks.
Eric Kaye said, "Kirk and Vicki Young, I'd like you to meet my wife, Christine. Christy, darling, meet Kirk and Vicki."
Christine Kaye rubbed the palms of her hands along her sleek sides as if she was a languorous cat. Vicki thought a little spitefully, I don't like her at all; she acts like she's going to start purring any minute. And look at the hungry expression on Kirk's face… he's captivated by her! The brunette young wife wondered then if she were becoming jealous, and decided that she was; not that she had any cause, of course, it was only natural for men to be attracted to a woman who was so obviously sensual. Don't get your claws out, she cautioned herself; this was to be a fun evening for Kirk's sake… and yes, for my own after the traumatic self-abuse I succumbed to this afternoon.
Vicki said, "How do you do, Mrs. Kaye? I'm very pleased to meet you."
"And I, you," Christy said in a husky contralto. She turned her smoldering black eyes on Kirk and took his hand. "How sweet of you to come tonight," she cooed.
Kirk flushed slightly as her hand seemed to finger in his longer than necessary. "Glad we came," he managed, feeling somewhat at a loss for words for the first time since his teens. This Christy Kaye was probably the most sensually alluring woman he had ever seen outside of a movie theater, and he found himself involuntarily wondering what it would be like to take her to bed. God, she could probably fuck the ass right off of you, he thought, and then blushed again at the lewdness of the idea. No use in harboring a lot of crazy thoughts that weren't going to net him anything anyway.
Still, she was a damned fascinating woman…
Eric Kaye said, "Have a seat beside Christy on the couch. I'll mix drinks. Anyone want anything special?"
"Well," Kirk answered, "a little brandy, if you have it. With soda! And Vicki will have a Vodka tonic. Is that all right, honey?"
"Fine," Vicki smiled.
Kaye nodded and said, "Christy?"
"Another champagne cocktail, dear," she breathed.
The smiling professor went to the walnut bar and began to mix the drinks. As he did so, he allowed himself a secretive smile and let his eyes undress Vicki Young; if things went as planned, he thought, this was going to be a night he and Christy – and the Youngs – weren't going to forget for some time to come.
Neither Vicki nor Kirk noticed that he made both of their drinks double-strength.
The evening progressed rapidly, and in spite of her initial dislike for the silver-haired Christy Kaye, Vicki found herself developing a certain camaraderie with the woman. The two men seemed to be getting along famously, and Vicki found Christy to be surprisingly intelligent, a somewhat paradoxical quality in a woman of her sensual physical appearance. Soon they woe talking on topics ranging from a recipe for real Italian veal scaloppini to the damage being wrought by indiscriminate polluting of America's rivers and lakes.
The first drink Dr. Kaye had given her had been a little strong for Vicki's liking, but she hadn't wanted to seem immature or impolite – and so she hadn't said anything. She had drunk it slowly, and when she'd finally finished it, he'd made her another that hadn't seemed too strong at all; probably just her imagination with the first one, she'd mused, and proceeded to drink the second with a bit less caution as she and Christy talked. When she was again finished, Eric Kaye dutifully poured her a third Vodka and tonic.
Although she wasn't really consciously aware of it, the amount of liquor the young brunette wife was consuming began to have a marked effect on her. Gradually, she experienced a physical relaxing of her body; the tenseness evaporated, and she was completely relaxed by then, happy and carefree once in the company of the man she loved and two people with whom she was enjoying herself immensely.
Kirk, too, had noticed the strength of his brandy-soda when Kaye had handed him that first drink, but he had considered it a result of the doctor's flare for being a gracious and liberal host. Besides, he liked his drinks with a little kick in them – and he could hold his liquor with the best of men when he drank, even though he didn't indulge very often. He felt completely at ease with Dr. Eric Kaye, and as the hour of midnight – and the New Year – drew nigh, he found himself as complacently secure as he had ever been in his life. The older professor could be – he hoped was going to be – a valued and valuable friend, furthering Kirk's career both directly and indirectly; tonight could be the beginning of a long and satisfactory relationship.
Vicki drained the last swallow of her third drink, and her professor boss got to his feet immediately. "Another, my dear?" he asked.
"Well…" Vicki giggled reflexively, and then excused herself and said, "yes – I think I will have another, Dr. Kaye."
"Eric," he insisted. "There's no need for office formality here, Vicki."
"Then – yes, I'd love another drink, Eric."
Christy looked at her watch. "It's eleven-thirty," she said. "Don't you think it's time we opened some of that vintage champagne, baby?"
"Excellent idea," Kaye enthused. "I have it on ice behind the bar."
"Mmmmmm!" Vicki exclaimed. "I adore champagne!"
"Especially imported champagne," Kirk said, grinning.
"This is quite good," Christy told them. "I think you'll like it."
"I'm sure we will," Vicki said, with a soft bubbling laugh. She was beginning to feel slightly giddy, almost light-headed, from the three Vodka tonics she'd consumed over the course of the evening; usually, two drinks were her absolute limit.
Eric Kaye popped the cork on a gold-foil encased magnum he produced from behind the walnut bar and poured four crystal champagne glasses full of the bubbling golden liquid. The two couples drank a toast to one another's health and happiness for the coming year, and the doctor refilled their glasses; another toast to Kirk's success in the field of coaching, and again Kaye poured.
They sipped two more glasses each, talking and laughing, until suddenly Christy announced, "It's two minutes till midnight!"
Eric hurried to the bar, and from behind it produced some small party hats and four long, wooden favors that unwind like a frog's tongue when someone blows into them. The laughing couples put on the hats as Christy and Vicki began a loud and boisterous countdown by Christy's thin gold watch. Five-four-three-two-one…
"Happy New Year!"
"Happ… Happy New Year!"
Vicki seemed to be floating on a pleasant, euphoric cloud, and she realized fully for the first time that she was extremely drunk. It was such a good feeling to be very drunk, she thought; why hadn't she gotten drunk more often if the feeling was this good? She felt strong hands pulling her to her feet, and strong arms encircle her, and she saw the smiling face of her husband before her eyes. She brought her arms up and clung to Kirk's neck as he kissed her, opening her mouth eagerly to accept his tongue. She wantonly rubbed her breasts against his chest, enjoying the feeling of sensuality which the liquor had sent rippling through her body and the embrace of Kirk had magnified; she could feel his penis, pressing against her abdomen, jerk slightly in his pants, and she knew he was aroused by her passionate kiss.
But then a voice said close to her, "How about a kiss for your employer, my dear?" Vicki and Kirk broke apart, and she giggled as she saw Eric affect a mock pout at her ignoring of him; he seemed to be feeling the effects of the evening's liquor consumption as well.
She took a step forward, putting her hands boldly on his shoulders, and said, "Of course, you can have a kiss, Eric!"
He gathered her into his arms, and his mouth closed over hers, lightly at first and then more ardently as she responded to his expert movements. His breath smells sweet and warm even with the odor of liquor on it, she thought numbly as she kissed him. And he really knows how to kiss… his lips are so soft… oh I feel so wicked, letting my boss kiss me this way with my husband standing right there, but after all it is New Year's Eve and there's no harm that will come of it…
Suddenly, Eric's mouth pressured hers open wide and his tongue slipped along her wetly parted lips, darted inside to meet hers. Vicki felt a tremor of excitement course through her at such familiarity, and instead of being angered or frightened, she was oddly responsive to his invasion of her mouth. She clung to him almost as passionately as she had clung to her husband moments earlier, and allowed his moistly flicking tongue to fill her mouth for a long moment, swirling round and round her own, before she drew back, giggling, to break the embrace…
As soon as his wife had begun kissing Eric Kaye, Kirk had immediately turned toward the voluptuous Christy; what the hell? he thought with the lack of inhibition the champagne and brandy had combined to bring about, there wasn't anything wrong with kissing a beautiful and exciting temptress like Christy Kaye, not if her husband was standing right there kissing his wife, now was there? Besides, he was feeling pretty damned high – maybe he couldn't hold the booze as well as he'd thought, not that it mattered much one way or another – and just looking at Christy during the evening had made him desirous of even so little as a simple kiss. In fact, he had been secretly hoping that he would have an opportunity such as this when midnight arrived; those full sensuous lips of hers glistened invitingly, and she had the damnedest habit of moistening them constantly with the tip of her little pink tongue, making you want to taste them more and more each time you looked at them.
Christy was smiling when he turned to her, and her eyes said that she knew what he wanted to do and that it was all right. She opened her arms to him, and he pressed in close to her, feeling the taut, hard-nippled firmness of her breasts brand his chest hotly, even with the silver lame gown and his suit between their bare flesh. Then his lips were on hers, and her tongue flickered into his mouth to fuse with his, teasing along the ridged roof and over his teeth.
Holy Christ! Kirk thought with surprise. She really knows how to French-kiss! I'll bet she's something wild in the sack… I'll bet she lets Eric go down on her, and I'll bet she goes down on him, too… Christ, it must be nice to have a wife who's really a happy slut in bed, who isn't afraid to experiment and try new positions, new ways… Vicki's a damned beautiful woman, and I love her, but all she wants is Western style, no oral sex and no experimentation… she's just static when it comes to love-making… that Goddamned old lady of hers was the problem, all right, with all the moralistic crap about sex being only for procreation and not to be enjoyed for its own sake…
Christy's hot, probing tongue began to flash in and out of Kirk's mouth as if she was trying to rape him with it, and he felt his penis give an involuntary leap of arousal. The silver blonde seemed to sense his passion, and wantonly ground her pelvis tighter against his loins, moving her hips in a lewd circular motion. Christ in heaven, what was she doing? Kirk thought with liquored confusion. It was almost as if she was trying to screw him standing up, right there with all their clothes on! Hell, she dry-fucked better than Vicki actually made love, and his eagerly throbbing cock was almost erect from her erotic movements against him.
But then, abruptly, Christy withdrew her tongue from his mouth and pulled back, smiling sultrily at him with her smoky eyes half-lidded. She smoothed the lame gown with the palms of her hands, as she had done earlier. Kirk released several short breaths, flushed guiltily at the bulge along the light leg of his trousers and darted a look to see if Vicki had noticed his excitement. But she was laughing merrily as Eric put one of the little party hats on her head, and Kirk breathed a sigh of relief. After a moment, his penis returned to its normal state, and he tried to push the incident out of his mind. It couldn't have meant anything anyway, he told himself; but the way she'd turned on like that meant Christy Kaye was sure to be ready for a screwing any time, anywhere, and it probably didn't take more than a pat on the fanny to set her sex fires to burning.
They sang Auld Lang Syne, loudly and off-key, and then convulsed into gales of laughter, blowing on the party favors and noisemakers which Eric had produced just before midnight. Kaye poured them all more champagne, and they continued to drink until Christy suggested they dance.
Kirk and Vicki nodded enthusiastic approval of the idea, and Eric put a mood music tape Gleason's Music for Lovers – on a tape deck located in an impressive bank of stereo components behind a sliding panel in one wall. Vicki and Kirk danced together for awhile, as did Eric and Christy, and then they changed partners; the changing seemed the most natural thing in the world to Vicki, who rested her raven head against Eric Kaye's shoulder and allowed him to pull her close.
As they moved slowly on the azure carpet, Vicki thought drowsily: this is one of the most wonderful evenings I've ever spent… so happy and beautiful and perfect, being with the two closest men in my life – my husband and my boss… oh I don't want tonight to ever end…
Kirk's thoughts as he held Christy tightly in the fold of his arms were of a different nature. He tried to concentrate on the music, tried to keep from dwelling on the warm softness of the provocative woman in his embrace, but it was futile. His mind was filled with lewd thoughts of Christy Kaye: how she would look and feel nakedly spread out beneath him with the silver hair tangled in his fingers while he fucked into the tightness of her cunt again and again. His restlessly stirring cock ached with a growing lust, and it was rising again into half-erectness from the contact of her abdomen beneath the silver gown.
He told himself again and again that such thoughts were wrong, that he was somehow mentally cheating on his wife by even thinking them. He knew his face and neck were flushed red, and he knew that his pulsating penis could be felt by Christy; what was she thinking? he wondered. Surely she knew what was on his mind, feeling his long thick cock nudging against her loins. Was she secretly laughing at him? Or, somehow, was she attracted to him? That could be it; else, why hadn't she pulled back at the feel of his hard-on? Jesus, what would she do if he made a pass at her? Would she slap his face, or would she…?
His reverie was broken by the sound of his wife's voice. Vicki said: "I… I feel a little woozy, Eric. I think I'd better sit down." She giggled suddenly. "Think I've had a wee bit too much champagne…"
Concern crept into Kirk's mind, momentarily overshadowing his salacious thoughts. He watched as Eric led Vicki to the couch and seated her there. Vicki leaned her head back against the cushions and closed her eyes; her face was flushed from the combined effects of alcohol and dancing.
Kirk went to his wife, unmindful that the bulge along his trouser leg was readily apparent to the Kaye couple, unaware of the meaningful looks the two exchanged. He sat beside Vicki and took her hand; damn, he was feeling that champagne himself. The room seemed to have a haze in it, dulling his vision somewhat, and the inside of his mouth was dry.
He said: "Are you okay, honey? Do you want me to get you anything?"
"She'll be all right," Eric said. "She just needs to rest for a few minutes."
"Yes…" Vicki began. Then she giggled again, fluttering her eyes open, and leaned up to kiss him hard, wetly. Unintentionally, Kirk felt himself comparing her kiss with that of Christy Kaye's; the older blonde won hands down, and he told himself again to stop such thinking before he did something he would be sorry for.
"I'll be all right, honey, I'll be… all right," Vicki moaned, laying her head back and closing her eyes again.
"Do you want to go home now?"
"Oh no! No, Kirk, I'm having such a good time…"
Kirk felt a hand on his shoulder, and when he looked up Dr. Kaye smiled disarmingly at him. "Give her a few minutes rest, Kirk my boy. She's fine, if I know women – and I think I do." He grinned again.
Kirk stood up, and his own smile was lopsided. "Well," he said, "I guess you're right." He blinked his eyes rapidly a few times. "Whew! Guess I'm feeling that champagne too."
"Why don't you go out onto the balcony and get some fresh air?" Christy suggested. "It's stopped raining."
"Sounds like a good idea," he agreed.
She stepped forward and took his arm. "Come on, Kirk," she urged, and led him toward the view window. She drew back one of the sliding doors and ushered him onto the wet floor of the balcony.
The sudden rush of chill winter air sobered Kirk somewhat, and he went to the railing and took several deep breaths. He stared out at the lights of Glenview, spread out panoramically below him in the velvet black background of the night. He sensed Christy coming up beside him, felt her touch him with her body. Then he heard her say words which, with a shock, sobered him almost completely.
She said, "Do you still have a hard-on, Kirk? Let me see if you do. Let me see if that beautiful cock of yours is still hard."
He turned abruptly, startled by her obscene remark. Her eyes lowered to the front of his trousers, and she made a mock pout when she saw that there was no longer a bulge present.
He said: "Christy, what…?"
"Now, now," she said throatily, "let's not fence, shall we? I know I gave you a nice hard-on, when I was kissing you, and again when I was dancing with you. Why do you think I was rubbing my pussy against the big old cock of yours, Kirk?"
"I… I…" he faltered. "Jesus Christ!"
She laughed softly, sensually. "I know what you were thinking, you know," she told him confidently. "You were thinking that you'd like to fuck me, weren't you? You were thinking that you'd like to put that big hard cock of yours in my cunt and fill me up with a great load of your cum. Isn't that right?"
Involuntarily, Kirk's penis jumped once more into erection at the continued lasciviousness of Eric Kaye's voluptuous wife. It was throbbing wildly in his pants, and his brain was reeling. Why was she talking to him this way? he thought in confusion. What was the matter with her? Was she even more over-sexed than he'd thought – some kind of nympho or something? She must be crazy to come on to a man she's only just met this way, with her husband and his own wife less than twenty feet away; didn't she realize what could happen, making lewd suggestions the way she was?
Christy leaned close to him and put her hand on his chest. She let it remain there for a moment, before she moved it slowly down over his stomach and began tantalizingly stroking the pulsating bulge.
"Well, Kirk?" she asked, her breath like hot flowing honey against his cheek. "You haven't answered me; you would like to fuck me, wouldn't you? Tell me how you'd like to fuck me."
He didn't know what to think, what to say. He wanted to turn and run inside the house again, get away from something he wasn't able to understand and therefore wasn't able to cope with, but he was rooted to the spot. The pressure of her gently kneading fingers on his balls and penis brought great swirling billows of heat rising upward through his loins, and his testicles ached almost painfully with sexual need.
"My cunt is on fire, you know that don't you, Kirk?" Christy whispered. "My cunt is on fire for your big cock. Oh, and it is big, too, Kirk; it's even bigger and harder than I expected it would be!"
She was rhythmically stroking his lust-swollen cock and balls now through his trousers, moving closer to him so that the tips of her fully rounded breasts touched his cheek; her tongue came out like a molten fire-brand and traced a quick, liquid path down over his jawline and then back up over his lips before she drew her head back again.
"I want you to fuck me, Kirk," she breathed in her sensuous voice. "I want you to fuck me, and I want to fuck you. Fuck, fuck, fuck… Don't make me beg for it."
Kirk was trembling almost uncontrollably, his mind awhirl with panic-tinged thoughts. Never before had he been faced with a situation as staggering as this one, and he simply couldn't react. He could feel the heat of lust rising still higher inside him from her ministrations, from her lips and tongue, threatening to consume him completely. His whole being was crying out for release.
"First I'll suck you," Christy said, and the licentious words tore through Kirk like a hot knife. "First I'll take your big cock in my mouth and suck you. Maybe I'll even suck you until you cum, until you fill my mouth with your hot sticky semen. Then, later, we'll fuck. Yes, that's exactly what I'm going to do. You'll love it, darling!"
"No…" It was a strangled protest, but one that seemed even in his ears to lack conviction. The heat was rising… No, no, no! his brain warned, but it too lacked conviction. No, this is wrong, all wrong! You've got to stop this now, before it's too late! You've got to go back inside, go back to where your wife is waiting, take Vicki home, get out of here, don't listen to her, don't let her talk you into anything. Jesus, Eric Kaye is right inside, a man I've always admired and I'm out here with his wife's hand playing with my nuts and my cock… Jesus, what would Vicki say if she found out? I'm a happily married man, for God's sake, a happily married man with a promising career ahead of me, and if I don't put a stop to this bullshit right now I could blow both my marriage and my career in one stupid moment of weakness…
"No," he said, again. "No, Christy, stop, please…"
"Yes," she said, sensuously squeezing and stroking down between his legs. "You want me to suck you off, don't you, Kirk? You want me to suck you and fuck you, suck you and fuck you, suck you and fuck you…" Christy's words were almost hypnotic in their chanting intensity, and suddenly Kirk knew that he did want her to suck him and fuck him, did want her and to hell with the consequences! Oh Jesus, Jesus, he had to have her! Nothing mattered but the acute pleasure-pain in his groin – not his wife, not his career, nothing but this hot-blooded little blonde bitch who was stroking and caressing him.
"Yes!" he hissed savagely. "Yes, Goddamn it, yes, yes, yes! I want you Christy, oh Christ, I want you to suck me and I want to fuck you!"
Christy laughed throatily – and released his cock and balls, stepping back. "Come with me," she commanded.
He stared at her, his temples pounding with the liquor and the passion she had set to burning inside him. "But – where? God, your husband… Vicki…"
"Don't worry about them," she said. She put out her hand. "Follow me, Kirk. Come with Christy."
It was as if she was commanding a little boy, and yet he was powerless to do anything but obey. He stepped forward, mutely, and she took his hand and led him across the wet balcony to a door set into the far wall. As they passed by the view window, he could dimly see that Eric Kaye was sitting beside Vicki on the couch, looking down at her, paying no attention whatsoever to what was happening on the balcony.
Kirk's heart was plunging wildly in his chest as Christy opened the door and led him into a short, shag-carpeted hallway. At its far end was another door, and she opened that, taking his hand and ushering him inside. She followed him, closing the door behind her.
It was a bathroom.
Black and gold tile covered the floor and walls, and the fixtures were of the same color scheme with polished gold faucets and trim. There was a large inlaid mirror on one wall. "This is our private bath. It's one of my favorite rooms."
Kirk stared about him open-mouthed. What was she going to do in here, for Christ's sake? The bathroom was huge, with plenty of open space, but…
She seemed to sense his confusion, and she laughed huskily. "We're going to take a bath together, Kirk," she said. "Won't that be fun? You and I together in the tub there."
The idea somehow aroused Kirk to even more passionate heights. He and Christy Kaye, bathing together while their respective spouses were in another room nearby! The very lewd boldness of it was tremendously exciting. Would she suck him off while they were in the bathtub? he suddenly wondered. Jesus, he'd heard about getting a blow job while you were taking a bath, but he'd never in his wildest dreams thought it would happen to him. He'd only had one blow job in his life, and that was from a town girl near the Army camp where he'd been stationed five years ago.
Christy stepped forward to the sliding, frosted glass doors covering the bathtub and drew them open. She closed the drain and turned on the hot and cold water faucets; then straightening, she turned to Kirk again.
And she began to take her silver lame gown off.
His cock palpitated maddeningly as he watched the sultry silver blonde reach behind her and draw the zipper down, then shrug out of the garment. It fell slowly, like cascading, shimmering diamonds, and puddled around her ankles to radiate in the overhead light. She was clad in a French brassiere that did little to conceal her ripely rounded breasts, and a pair of bikini panties that covered even less of her beautiful buttocks. She spread her legs apart, and then slowly reached behind her to unhook the brassiere, letting it fall to the floor as well. Her naked young breasts bobbed into view, and Kirk sucked in his breath at the sight of the proudly upraised mounds jutting out from her chest, topped with rigid brown nipples in the darker fields of her areolae.
Her hands stroked her sides as she moistened her lips provocatively, never taking her eyes from Kirk's face. Slowly, her hands slid down to her hips, to the waistband of her panties. With that same tantalizing slowness, she drew the flimsy little nylon triangle down, down over her dark black pussy hair that contrasted startlingly with her white skin and her silver blonde hair. Then the wet, petal-like lips of her hair-lined cunt came into view, and again Kirk sucked in his breath; his wildly burgeoning cock jumped, and he could feel seminal fluid ooze from the glans opening.
Christy stepped out of her panties finally, and stood nakedly unashamed before him. Her legs were long and tapered and her buttocks were satin-smooth and dimpled enticingly. She stepped forward, still letting her pink tongue flick over her lips.
"Do you like?" she asked in a teasing, girlish voice. She cupped her breasts. "Do you like my tits? Are they big enough for you?"
"Yes! Oh God, yes!"
"And my cunt?" Her hands dipped lower, framing the ebony triangle as if it were some work of art. "Do you like my cunt, Kirk?"
"Oh Jesus, I love it! I love it!"
Christy laughed appreciatively. "Get naked, honey," she told him. "Get naked so I can see that big beautiful cock of yours."
Kirk hesitated, as guilt once more seized hold of him. No, he thought, God no, I can't do this, I can't! It's… it's insane! How can I take a bath with this woman, have her suck my cock, fuck her, how can I do that with my wife in the same house, with her husband in the same house? It's crazy, like some dream… maybe it is a dream, maybe I'll wake up any minute now… but no, it's real, all right, that cunt of hers is real and those beautiful tits are real and my cock, so hard it's about ready to burst is real… Jesus, I want her, I want her! I've got to have her… yes, that's all that matters! I've got to have her or I'll go out of my mind!
Having made his decision, whether right or wrong, Kirk felt as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He blanked his mind to all but the provocative woman who stood naked before him, to all but the billowing heat of building cum that bloated his balls. Feverishly, he tore at his clothes, throwing his suit coat onto the floor, tearing his shirt and tie off, unbuckling his trousers and letting them fall. He kicked off his shoes, pulled off his socks, shed his shorts and T-shirt.
At last he, too, was naked. His long hard cock jutted out from his hirsute loins like a huge, quivering standard, the head an angry purplish red and sheened with his seminal fluid. His balls hung swollen in their soft, swaying sac below, swinging lightly as his chest heaved with excitement. His eyes were glassy.
Christy let out a soft sighing whistle of approval. "It's everything I thought it would be, Kirk," she said. "It's a beautiful cock, even more beautiful than my husband's. God, I'm going to give such a wonderful cock everything it deserves; I'm going to lick it and suck it until I milk every last drop of cum from those beautiful hairy balls of yours!"
A small, tortured cry erupted from Kirk's throat, and he lunged forward, gathering Christy in his arms, pressing his rigid shaft against her belly. His hands roughly caressed her soft warm breasts, kneading and squeezing them, rolling the turgid nipples between thumb and forefinger. He was almost mindless with lust for her, making little mewling sounds in his throat.
She moved to the medicine cabinet set on one wall, opened it, and removed a large bottle. She took the bottle to the tub and emptied some of its clear liquid into the rapidly-filling, king-size receptacle. Dimly, Kirk saw that it was bubble bath, that shining colored bubbles were forming on the steaming water which was emptying down from the gold faucets.
Christy reached out and shut off the taps at last, and there was no sound in the bathroom then except for his ragged, excited breathing. She leaned forward, presenting her soft, velvet buttocks to his eyes, and raised one leg to place her foot on the lip of the tub. Kirk's impatiently pulsating penis gave a convulsive leap as he saw the soft, fluted lips of her cunt flower open before his eyes, saw the glistening strands of curly black pubic hair that fringed the moist teasing slit. Then she put one foot into the water, testing it, and stepped over into the brimming, bubbled water. Slowly, tantalizingly, she sank down into it, until the bubbles completely covered her voluptuous body, only her silver head showing her eyes lidded. "Come on in, honey," she invited. "It's just fine in here."
Kirk, his brain containing nothing in that moment but overwhelming lust, needed no further urging. Trembling, his massively thickened cock swaying in front of him, he joined her in the tub, sitting down opposite her at the other end. His feet slid along the outside of her legs as he settled down, his toes touched the satiny skin of her hips and sides, the water was hot and sweet-smelling, and he could feel the warmth send little ripples of pleasure along his groin.
Christy wiggled her toes, stretching forward, and he felt her toenails tickle his balls deliciously. She giggled with delight as she saw the purplish head of his cock shoot up like a periscope among the popping bubbles. She raised up, so that her high, firm breasts floated like two lovely balloons on the water, drawing her toes along the inside of his thighs as she did so. She rose up onto her knees then, staring at him, licking her sensually parted lips.
"Do you want me to suck you now?" she asked. "Do you want me to suck your big hard cock now, Kirk?"
"Yes! Suck it, oh Jesus suck it, suck it!"
Christy lowered her head, and Kirk watched her mesmerically as she took a mouthful of the hot, soapy water; little bubbles were in evidence around her glistening mouth when she raised her head again, as if she was a bitch dog with the froth, and the sight further increased the passion which was seething inside his body. She eased forward, positioning her head directly above the jutting head of his swollen rod, and her hand slid through the warm water to grasp his cock at the base, her little finger teasing his bloated scrotum below.
Breath burst from Kirk's lungs in staccato explosions as he felt her hand on his genitals. Her cheeks were puffed out from the soapy water she was retaining there.
Then, like a striking snake, her head darted down and her lips came in contact with the head of his cock, parted to take the lust-inflated head between them. At the same time, she released the water which she had been holding inside her mouth, and it cascaded like warm flowing oil down over the length of his throbbing shaft.
A cry of wanton delight came from the very core of Kirk's being, and his hands came out of the bath water involuntarily to tangle themselves in the silver blonde tresses of Christy's head. He levered up as he did so, driving more of his excitedly throbbing penis into the warm, incredibly soft cavern of her mouth. The back of his head was resting on the tub's lip, and he could look down to see half of his thick burgeoning manhood disappear into her ovalled red lips, see her lust-contorted features as she allowed the shaft of hard pulsating flesh to remain in her mouth without moving her lips on it, without touching it with her tongue. Kirk's testicles were boiling cauldrons of semen now, and lie knew it wouldn't be long before it would come spewing out of his hardened pole like a flow of hot molten lava.
"Suck me!" he commanded down to the top of her head.
He tried to push her head down on his cock with his hands wrapped in her now-wet silver hair, but she resisted, tickling his balls maddeningly with her fingers. She pulled out of his grip to smile teasingly up at him. "Do you like my mouth wrapped around your cock, honey!"
"Yes! For Christ's sake, suck me, Christy!"
Once more her head dipped, and her tongue came out then to lick circles of liquid fire around and around the head, flicking into the glans eye, lapping up the excited pre-ejaculate seeped from there. His hands tightened painfully in her hair, and he endeavored to bury his rigidly erect penis inside her mouth again. But still she resisted, licking and washing the head of his cock tantalizingly, twirling her tongue faster and faster around the blood-swollen head.
She drew back once again, leaving his wildly jerking rod of flesh, and lowered her head to the water another time. Again, her mouth filled with the hot, soapy liquid – and again, she bobbed her head down over his excited penis before taking the head between her lips carefully.
She began to suck him slowly, rhythmically, with the warm water still held in her mouth.
"Oooooohhhhhhh!" Kirk moaned in rapturous passion, as the combined sensations of Christy's soft lips and tongue, and the hot water she was gurgling around his cock, made him almost insane with desire. Never had he imagined anything to be this good! Christ in heaven, how could a man go through twenty-six years of life without ever having had anything as good as this!
"MMMmmmmmmm!" Christy hummed as she washed his cock again and again with the soapy water, bobbing her head up and down on his shaft. Kirk was watching her slave on him, jerking his hips upward into her face and driving her head down with hard thrusts of his hands in her hair, and the sight was one so lewdly exciting that he began to chant to her between bared teeth.
"Suck it, suck it, suck it, suck it!"
Christy's tongue, with a nerve-tingling lap on the out-stroke, was like a separate entity, a mad thing as she sucked him. Her mouth worked hungrily, greedily, her concentration full and complete on the task she was performing, swirling the hot water around and around his cock without losing so much as a droplet of it from the cavern of her softly ovalled mouth. Her breasts danced wildly, beating the water to a bubbled froth, as her head pumped, as the soft wet skin of her lips puckered outward and then back in again as she sawed her mouth the full length of his hotly pulsating cock.
It won't be long, he thought numbly, completely abandoned now to the orgasmic mouth-fucking he was receiving, it won't be long before I cum, before I fill her mouth and her throat and her belly with my cum… it won't be long before I shoot a load like I've never shot before, before I have an orgasm that'll put all the ones I've had with Vicki to shame… it won't be long, it won't be long now at all…