The Virginal Socialite
by Stewart Van Buren


FOREWORD 

Some women when young, start out in their sex lives with men, naturally 
equipped with a love of life and their own sexual natures. They follow their 
instincts, and for the most part, are not steered wrong by them. If they 
could just maintain this attitude throughout their marriages, the results 
would probably be happy and healthy for both partners. 

But social values change, and the bouncy young girl, in her efforts to be 
accepted by a different social group, may feel that she must change many of 
her attitudes. For the sake of being popular in her new social environment, 
the once uninhibited woman may repress her own attitudes and tell herself 
that they really weren't much good in the first place. 

However, passionate feelings and romantic notions especially when honestly 
felt, can only be repressed for so long. If the woman succeeds in keeping 
them out of her conscious actions, they will crop up in some other way. 
Psychosomatic illnesses are one manifestation of this, but more commonly it 
may be a general state of unrest, and anger with oneself on those occasions 
when the woman's real feelings come tumbling out and she once again shows 
passion and affection for her mate in physical ways. The battle with her own 
nature will start all over again, and all this energy expended in conflict 
is bound to make the marriage suffer. 

It would be difficult for her to listen to her husband's arguments with an 
open mind as he, in effect, on this issue would certainly be a member of the 
opposing party. Pride may get in the way as well, making it difficult for 
the woman in the later stages of their disagreement to admit that she was 
having some strong doubts on her own. In this way she prevents herself from 
taking advantage of the best help she could get, that which would come from 
a living and understanding mate. 

Sadly then, she must wage this war with herself alone, finding her socially 
correct ideals on one side of the battle line, her love and her marriage on 
the other. Everything looks appealing, many things from both sides give her 
pleasure. 

Which side will win? The strength of the armies has something to do with the 
outcome, of course. If her friends are more convincing, holding out glamour 
or prestige as the prize, they may very well convince her to repress her 
other needs so well that she believes in their way fully. 

But if her love for her husband is stronger, and he can recognize the 
turmoil that she is suffering, then he just may be able to do something 
effective about it. The first step of course, is to get the woman to open up 
and tell him of her doubts and all the new things that she has been hearing. 
Understanding conversation without recriminations is the best and the first 
step towards any emotional healing process. 

From there it can be so much easier to bring everything out in the open, 
such as what motivated her to become involved with such a contrary attitude 
to her marriage in the first place. If there were things wrong in the 
marriage this would be the time to discuss them. 

Openness and understanding usually seems to be the key. 

-THE PUBLISHERS 

 CHAPTER ONE 

"If I knew you would turn out to be this much of a prude, I never would have 
married you, Jean. You should have become a missionary or a nun, instead of 
a wife." 

This was the sort of sarcastic remark Jean told herself she must bear up 
under and have patience because the day had to come when she would be able 
to make Mark see things her way. True, it had taken her four years of 
marriage in which she was beginning to like the games that she and Mark 
would play in bed before she finally saw the light. But that was all behind 
her now and she was proud of her hard work at overcoming her own sexuality. 

At age twenty-nine, Jean didn't look all that much different than when she 
broke all male hearts in the vicinity of Carter College. She had been a 
cheerleader, home-coming queen, and the beauty contest winner at the local 
fair for three years running. All the glamour and popularity had gone to her 
head and during the years before her marriage to the captain of the football 
team, Jean had been a conceited and fairly wild young girl. 

Every guy in school was after her ass, and with good reason. Jean was a 
stunning young girl and had shown all the signs, even back then, of becoming 
a gorgeous woman. Her raven hair hung long and straight all the way down her 
back to her waistline and was a startling contrast to the creamy ivory of 
her skin. Even her eyes were dramatic, large and of a piercing green, and 
once a man's eyes were caught by them, he became hypnotized by their spell. 
Her features were pretty enough to be called perfect, from her tiny turned 
up nose and high cheekbones to her strong and dimpled chin. And, if a man 
could tear his eyes away from her exquisite face, he had an even greater 
treat in store for him when looking at her ripe and agile body. 

Jean was not exceptionally tall, but she did have a pair of long, shapely 
legs over which the supple curve of hips just rounded enough to be enticing 
made many a male mouth water to dive right in there. Her waist was tiny 
enough for a pair of hands to fit right around it, and the breasts standing 
high above them were positively spectacular. For knockers as huge as Jean's 
they were outstandingly firm and upright. All in all, a truly delicious 
package. 

Her marriage to Mark had taken place during graduation week, and was the 
highlight of that social season, along with the marriages of several of 
their friends. All had coupled off just as predicted by the group gossips 
and the wishes of their parents. How could it be any other way? Looks, job 
futures, and social position. If the couple had that, they had everything. 

She knew Mark thought he was marrying a really hot number, and Jean supposed 
during their school days that she was. All the girls put out for the guys in 
one way or another, and Jean did more than most, except for one last 
holdout. Jean in those days would do everything but take on a cock in the 
conventional way. 

Mark knew that she had been giving blow-jobs to the last couple of 
boyfriends that she had before getting engaged to him, but he had supposed 
that in comparison to all of her girlfriends who were screwing every boy 
that they dated, she was one of the good girls. After all, he was no 
different than the rest of the guys. He would have liked to fuck her if he 
could, but he wanted to be the only one. 

Jean refused him her cherry until after they were married, but she didn't 
refuse him anything else. They had some great times out in the woods behind 
the campus. 

Like that beautiful starlit night in late April of their senior year when 
the urge to fuck was really in the air. They had to walk pretty far into the 
woods to find a secluded spot, and Jean had giggled because they could hear 
the whispers and moans of other kids in hidden nooks all around the area. 
They couldn't be seen by their friends, but it was still a comfort to Jean 
to know that everyone fooled around to some extent. 

In those days she really did enjoy the delights of sexual foreplay and her 
contemporaries made her feel that it was all quite natural. After she had 
made Mark scout around the immediate vicinity to be sure that they would not 
be observed, the girl had no reservations about stripping to the buff and 
then lying on the stadium blanket that Mark had thoughtfully brought along. 

She lay there on her back with her hand resting comfortably on her muff and 
scratched herself innocently while she watched Mark's naked body shine in 
the moonlight. How beautifully he was built from his powerful chest and 
well-muscled shoulders to his trim waist. And the big cock that he sported, 
hard in an instant and always ready for action, had to be the best in the 
bunch. 

It looked positively electrically charged gleaming there above her and her 
cunt watered just at the sight of it. It never occurred to her back then 
that there was anything wrong in getting aroused and hungering for hot cock. 
In fact, she had thought many times of giving her cherry up to Mark since it 
was almost certain knowledge that they would be married, but she had a very 
selfish and not very moral motive for holding out until the wedding night. 
Jean simply wanted Mark to go crazy and do just about anything she wanted 
before she gave him the big reward. 

She supposed he had a pretty good idea of what she was doing, but he never 
confronted her with it. In later years he would wish to pay her back many 
times for her silly game-playing, but back then, naked as they were .under 
the stars, all that mattered was the fun at hand. Mark had supposed that any 
little piece of ass who was so hot in every other sexual way was going to be 
pure dynamite when it came to the real fucking and was certainly worth a 
little more patience. 

Jean had instilled this in his mind with her arrogant ways and making him 
feel lucky that he was getting anything at all from her. Well, she had a 
right to think that way, because back then, everything that she did dish out 
was sensational. 

After Mark had folded his clothes into a makeshift pillow for Jean's head, 
he got down on his knees above it, his hard and dripping cock poised right 
over her full lips. Jean threw her head way back and looked straight up into 
the eye of it. 

"MMMMmmm, looks yummy," she whispered. 

"Why don't you take a little lick?" 

"Come on down to me, love, and let me at that delicious lollipop of yours." 

Sucking cock happened to be a pastime that Jean very much enjoyed in those 
days, and she did it exceptionally well. Mark leaned forward on his knees 
and by the time he had his cockhead lowered all the way down to her lips, 
they were wide open and ready to take him on. 

Her tongue was out and Mark shuddered as he felt his throbbing shaft passing 
along the velvety softness of it on the way down her throat. She started 
licking all around it before it was even in very far, and reached up with 
both hands at the same time so that she could tickle his balls and run a 
finger along under towards the crack of his ass. 

No one had ever taught her how to turn a man on. In those days it was all 
sheer inspiration. Back then Jean still had some measure of respect for 
virile manhood and even admired guys who were especially sexy. How the years 
had turned her life around! 

At that time her enjoyment of sex was quite obvious. Every shudder of 
delight that she caused in Mark's body was a source of smug excitement for 
her. She knew what power she had over him when using her sexuality to 
advantage, and this time would be no different than the rest. No matter how 
much pleasure she derived from the sex play itself, what it did to her sense 
of superiority when seeing Mark's reactions was a still greater kick for 
her. 

"Ohhhh, baby. How I love what you do with your mouth," he moaned. "Nothing 
like it." 

She knew that he wasn't exaggerating. Jean had sucked quite a few cocks by 
then, and every one of the guys owning them had gone at least as crazy, and 
sometimes more. They had usually been willing to do anything she asked for a 
round with her talented mouth, and it was a source of secret pride to her 
that certain guys who swore they would never eat a girl's cunt had eaten 
hers in exchange for one of her famous blow-jobs. 

But Mark was the big man on campus, with a track record that was much higher 
than the other guys for scoring and scoring well. If she was going to hold 
on to him without surrendering her cherry, then Jean knew she must be at her 
best in all the other departments. So she gave him with samples and promises 
the assumption that she would really develop into something of a nymph once 
they were married. 

Right then her tongue and mouth were working as if she intended to literally 
devour his cock before she was through and leave him with nothing but his 
balls, and those weren't being ignored either. She had one in the palm of 
each hand and was bouncing them around playfully as Mark began to lean way 
over her face and move his body gently up and down. 

From the sound of his moans she knew that it wouldn't be long before he 
would be delirious with pleasure and eager to give her something in return 
for the great favor that she was bestowing upon him. Mark had never been 
crazy about eating cunt, but Jean had her special methods of persuasion and 
now that he was doing it to her regularly, he had become very good at it. 

She especially liked it when he got down on his knees and crept under her 
skirt while she stood above him wearing no underwear at all. He looked so 
submissive in that position that she would come a gusher and in hardly any 
time at all. 

But fifty-fifty wasn't going to be too bad either. The night was balmy and 
stimulating and her cunt was already twitching to be pampered. All she had 
to do was give him what he wanted until he could resist no longer, and down 
his head would go, right between her outspread legs. 

In order to work him just as she preferred, Jean had to use one of her hands 
to tug some of his meat out of her mouth by the stem of it. Now she was able 
to lick up and down it with long, juicy strokes, and all the while her lips 
were tightly pressed around the shaft. His body was quivering already and 
his moans becoming more insistent, but this was only the beginning of what 
she was going to do. 

She pulled back even more on his dick until just the crimson knob of it was 
left in her mouth. Searching for the supersensitive gland at either side of 
it with her tongue, Jean pressed in lightly and felt the tremor of pleasure 
run all along his dick and then made his balls jiggle in her hands as they 
swelled up even more. 

When she had gone back and forth from one side of the prick head to the 
other a few times, and heard his breath going ragged, Jean ran her tongue up 
to the very tip of it where she stabbed right into the eye of the dripping 
thing and scooped up the juices that she found there before rolling them 
back along her tongue and down her throat. The happy slurping sounds that 
she was making as she worked turned Mark on even more, and from the way that 
his body seemed to be slumping forward, she guessed that he only needed a 
few more seconds of her royal treatment before she could ask him for what 
she wanted and get an immediate response. 

So she started back up his dick again towards his belly, her tongue working 
in delicious wet spirals all the time and making Mark pant furiously while 
his body moved continually forward. 

"Do it," she whispered out of the side of her mouth. "Get down and eat me 
out." 

It was as if those few words were just what Mark needed to get his head down 
the rest of the way. He had been staring down into the gaping yaw of her 
cunt, sparked by the moonlight, all the time she had been sucking. Her words 
broke the spell and moved him to action. 

He opened his mouth and had his tongue out before his face ever caressed the 
tops of her thighs. As soon as Jean felt his hot breath down there, she 
raised her knees and parted them wide, affording his flushed face all the 
room he needed to do a decent job for her. 

Mark, his mouth clamped tightly over her plump mouth, paused for an instant 
and inhaled her heated aroma before digging in. He was sure he had Jean 
convinced that he was only placating her with this chore, and didn't really 
care for it very much. 

But he wasn't fooling Jean in the slightest. She knew that he had acquired a 
taste for pussy, and that if her own mouth wasn't busy at the moment, she 
could probably ask for a gift or favor and he would promise it to her 
without question. 

Well, there would be plenty of time to ask for special things in the future. 
Jean thought it wise to take careful note of just how Mark was best turned 
on and how far she could go, all the information she would need to be a 
smart and secure wife. 

Right then she was in the mood to be eaten nicely, and thought Mark had 
taken long enough to admire her cunt, especially since she was still sucking 
away at him like crazy. She raised her hips up high and began to mash her 
hairy mound against his face until Mark could stand it no longer and had to 
get his nose between her pussy-lips. 

His tongue was out too, so he could sniff and get his first taste of her at 
the same time. Both were intoxicating to him, so much so that he went right 
to work. Jean was lapping at his cock and sucking for all she was worth. He 
was going to have to eat her out like crazy if he intended to make her come 
before he did, or at least in pretty close time. 

So he used his fingers to pry apart her pussylips as far as he could get 
them, and worked his mouth deeply into the cleft. His nose was pressed right 
against her clit and he rubbed it back and forth while his tongue curled at 
the sides and he started pushing it into the hot wetness of her virginal 
hole. There was just so far in that he could get, but for a tongue it was 
more than enough. As soon as Mark realized that he had hit rock bottom, he 
began to wiggle it around in there, pulling back on it ever so slightly so 
that he could also wipe at the sides of the fluted channel as he worked and 
scoop up lots of the delicious cream that he found there. 

The first shudder of pleasure that she felt was with the first lick that he 
took, and she kept on shuddering all the time he was down there because her 
body was constantly being washed with alternating hot and cold waves while 
the chill of the night air on her skin made her tingle from head to toe. His 
cock was pounding down the back of her throat and she couldn't keep her 
tongue working fast enough now that he was fucking her face, and making her 
dizzy by eating her out madly at the same time. 

Jean was sure that she was going to come quickly this time. She would lose 
points with Mark if he didn't come almost as soon, and it was only fair, 
after all. Pushing her tongue to the back of her mouth so that she could 
work even faster with her lips now, Jean took his balls again into the palm 
of her hand and began to knead them more aggressively as her mouth pumped 
quickly up and down on his hard and throbbing meat. 

What had started out as a casual pastime for a nice Spring evening turned 
into a contest of wills now. Jean wanted to get her man crazy as quickly as 
possible so that he would do a better job on her cunt, and he was determined 
to get her off before she did it to him. 

Both mouths were moving as fast as possible, Mark with such vigor that he 
accidentally nipped her fleshy inner lips a few times. But Jean never 
stopped what she was doing for an instant. Mark now had her so turned on 
that her entire body was vibrating against his face and she knew that she 
would not be very long in coming. 

One of these days she was going to have to compliment Mark on his expertise. 
He had her so wild already that it was all she could do to concentrate on 
the cock in her mouth and keep right on sucking when it would have been so 
delightful just to lie there and let him work her over until she could stand 
no more and filled his mouth with a heavy load of her hot cream. But she 
knew that there was only so far that she could go with Mark before they were 
married. Although he treated her decently, he would not be a slave to her, 
especially if she frustrated him for the sake of her own selfish pleasure. 

Well, she would just have to train him along those lines once they were 
married. Jean was so smug and sure she had him completely in her control, 
but felt that there was no harm in letting him think they were on an equal 
footing, at least before the wedding. 

Mark sensed that she was going to pop at any second and his instincts told 
him that he better hurry up and get off himself. It would be just like her 
to leave him hanging if she had an excuse. So he started fucking the girl's 
face as if his very life depended on it. 

Faster and faster Mark slammed his meat between Jean's widely stretched 
jaws, guessing that he must be bruising her, but too desperate at that 
moment to really care. He could tell from the mushy condition of her cunt, 
and the way that her body was thrashing around, that it was going to be any 
second for her now. His tongue worked furiously as if it were motor driven 
and in high gear. 

She began to really gush just as Mark felt his balls spilling their contents 
and pumping the fluid along the shaft of his dick. It was amazing, a stroke 
of good luck, but more than that thoroughly enjoyable. While Jean was 
getting her mouth pumped full of Mark's hot, sticky cream, she was 
retaliating by gushing her own into Mark's mouth, and then all over his face 
as her body thrashed from side to side. 

For those few glorious seconds Jean and Mark were in complete accord. There 
were no ego trips. Each was happy in their own raging glory and with the 
person who had helped to bring it about. In fact, those times in their lusty 
youth were some of the few times that they were in complete agreement on 
anything. 

Yet it all went well during the courtship, engagement and through the first 
weeks of their marriage. Jean was so caught up in the romance and excitement 
of it all, and still very much involved with the standards of their social 
circle that it was one dizzy whirl of stolen moments in the back seat of 
Mark's car, in the woods, and even in her kid sister's playhouse, out in the 
back yard, when her own family was home. 

Blowjobs, handjobs, and once a half-hearted attempt at an assfuck by Mark 
were the order of the day. Neither one of them knew quite how to work out an 
anal penetration, but they promised one another that there would be plenty 
of time for practice once they were married. Mark in his turn gave Jean 
whatever she wanted by way of finger-fucks, eating her out and such, so for 
a virgin she certainly did not lack for her share of kicks. 

How could either one of them possibly foresee that their sex life could 
actually go downhill from there? Even Jean, aside from her attitude about 
running the show herself in their marriage never realized that she would one 
day be an advocate of super-conservative morality, in preaching and in deed. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

During the first year or so of their marriage, Jean pretty much adjusted to 
a routine of daily fucking, so long as Mark did his duty by her in the 
foreplay which she demanded. Since it had been her only source of sexual 
pleasure when they were younger, being eaten and fingered to orgasm had 
become her habit and now she found that she could not manage without them. 
No matter how hard, or for how long Mark would keep his hard dick inside of 
her and fuck until he was ready to drop from exhaustion, he absolutely could 
not get her off. 

In the beginning Jean seemed to be passionate enough, and for the most part 
that was all it was, pure pretense unless she happened to be getting off 
herself. Jean had decided almost from the first that fucking wasn't all that 
it was cracked up to be, and it was far too much of a real partnership for 
her own comfort. Mark demanded that she really move her ass and give him 
hard action while he was fucking. To her this was just too much hard work 
with very little reward, but getting laid did grow on her to some extent. 

The more he tried to really get her into the swing of it though, the more 
Jean began to hate the touch of her own husband's body. It could be that 
this pushing of his was the basis for her change in emotional temperament, 
Jean supposed when looking back on her motives. But there was so much more 
to it all, and her turn-about had been far too radical to have just the one 
root. 

It was all the outside influences that really began to turn her head. They 
were fine in their first apartment, where Jean and Mark were for the most 
part surrounded by the kids they had gone to school with, and most of whom 
were swinging even more wildly than before. Jean tried to be as hip as the 
rest and Mark was kind of proud of the way she wiggled her ass for all the 
guys. 

But then Mark got ahead of the rest financially and they moved to a better 
section of town, where the only work that women there generally did was for 
their personal satisfaction, for charity, or for other various social 
causes. Jean admired these women at first sight, and immediately began to 
identify with their looks as well as their ways. 

She began discarding her jeans and sweaters in favor of well-tailored suits 
and weekly trips to the beauty shop. The effect was stunning, certainly. But 
it was no longer the Jean that Mark had known and loved. 

Little by little her identity changed, with Mark standing by helplessly 
because he had brought her into this environment in the first place, and 
reasoning that he had only himself to blame. But for Jean this change would 
have occurred at some time, and probably wherever they had moved, because 
she had been in search of a certain image for herself ever since her teenage 
years, although no one knew it. 

The image emerged gradually, in subdued ways that could barely be discerned 
by Mark or their college friends, but it did become a fact, and the sum 
total was a Jean who had her ideals in the clouds and a concept that sex 
belonged in the gutter. A wall of dissention began to build between them, 
and for a long time neither one of them knew just how it would all end. 

Mark tried to cooperate as best he could in the beginning of Jean's new 
phase. His own sexuality was still in a period of growth, and he found that 
he really needed more time in bed with her than before. But Jean was 
spending two and then four nights a week at her interminable meetings, 
returning home when he was already upstairs and talking of nothing but the 
great good she was doing for the world. 

The years had been very good to her and she was more beautiful than ever. 
Mark would lie there and watch her undress before her full length mirror 
knowing she was fully aware that she was arousing him, even turning to see 
the cover over his crotch beginning to rise, and yet determined that she 
would teach him the sexual discipline that she was teaching herself. It did 
her ego good, as it always had, to know that she was exciting him, but she 
had no intention at all of doing anything about it. 

For almost two weeks Mark did not complain that he was going to sleep with a 
hard-on every night and awakening with it in the morning. He made subtle 
suggestions to her about his being restless and having too much pent-up 
energy. He even rolled against her back when she was supposed to be sleeping 
so that he could rub his aching hard-on against her and give her the message 
that way. One night, in real desperation, he actually took her hand and put 
it over his big naked bulge under the covers, but the best he got for his 
efforts was her brushing her palm across his cock and balls, then taking it 
deliberately away. 

That night he was in such a rage that he had to keep his fists pinned 
tightly to his sides because he wanted so desperately to smack her around in 
an effort to bring her to her senses. He tried to understand what was 
twisting her mind so, but in those early weeks of her change, she did almost 
no talking about it. 

But Jean was certainly thinking about it. Sex and her attitude towards it in 
comparison to her new goals in life was on her mind just about all of the 
time. She didn't really want to shut Mark out of this part of her life 
altogether, but Jean sincerely needed this time to herself because she still 
had a great deal of conflict within her. If Mark was going to be convinced 
that he should tone down his erotic nature, then Jean knew she must present 
a solid and unflinching front. 

There was more to it than mere belief in the righteousness of her cause. The 
plain truth was that Jean was finding her life a great deal simpler by 
catering to her own wishes and leaving Mark to fend for himself. She felt 
that what sex she did give him was a service to his manhood, and a demeaning 
service at that. 

It wasn't that she still didn't get some pleasure from it herself. That she 
could not deny in her mind, although she fought hard not to admit this to 
her husband. It was more that she now thought of this arousal and pleasure 
as a weakness within herself, and one which she must fight against in order 
to be a stronger, better woman. This was what she heard around the table at 
her bridge club, and this was what was preached at her feminist meetings as 
well. Now how could so many well-dressed, and well-informed women possibly 
be wrong? 

Of course, there were moments when she waivered and they did have reasonably 
good sex. It wasn't always easy to lie beside the man that she loved dearly, 
feeling his maleness pressing against her and totally ignore it. No matter 
what lofty ideals went on in her mind, her body did get hot and tingle at 
the touch of him. If he only knew how many times her palms would itch and 
she would struggle against the urge to reach out for his cock in the night 
and draw it to her. 

Secretly she had some nagging doubts that should she give herself half a 
chance, she probably would derive greater pleasure from a fuck than she had 
allowed herself so far. One thing was for certain. Whenever she did have his 
big, hard thing stabbing into her gaping hole, her body did heat to lava, 
and her nerves sing with growing pleasure. 

But that was as far as she would ever let it go. At some mystical point, 
when she felt herself climbing to the peaks she had known in other forms of 
sexual play, Jean would start thinking about the women's movement and such, 
and her lust would come tumbling down to a resentment for being so used. It 
began accidentally but later became an enforced discipline, where her mind 
turned on to cooling thoughts at precisely the right moment. 

Mark could not fail to notice. Fuck after fuck he would believe that this 
time he was going to get her off and break the spirit of her discipline. His 
heart would race as he stepped up his passionate stroking, feeling her body 
moving sympathetically beneath him, sensing her rising passion, and seeing 
at those moments the truly sensual woman that Jean could always be, if she 
gave herself half a chance. 

He would sense the danger of imminent change and know that she could turn 
the passion off at any moment, as she could turn off the light. Mark would 
start to slam away at her in frantic desperation, racing against the clock 
in his woman's head, hoping against hope that this would be the time that he 
beat her to the punch. Sweat was pouring from his body as he struggled, 
inspired by the rising response that he got from her. 

Then the moment would come when he would be the tick of a heartbeat away 
from making her come, and just a second more for himself. Her hands would 
drop to her sides, and her body would freeze up around him. Sometimes he 
would bang away at her box even harder, and sometimes he would shake her 
body with his hands, as if he were trying to rouse her from a stupor. Often, 
he would curse under his breath, but plead with her in softened tones. As 
always this effort was useless. 

Once again he would have to content himself with finishing up his own come 
on the friction that he was producing with his own stroking, but by then it 
felt as if he were fucking a corpse. Only on his own strength of will could 
he keep his cock hard long enough to drop his load. And when that happened, 
he wouldn't linger for a second, but roll off the frigid body and turn on 
his side away from her to attempt to sleep with great anger making his blood 
boil. By morning's light he would swear that he wouldn't even attempt it 
with her again, but that was always before he saw her beauty, so fresh for 
the start of a new day. 

Then the tug at his groin would start all over again, and he would be dying 
to fuck her. Mark could only live with this frustration for just so long. He 
knew that his wife was avoiding a direct encounter, but he would stand for 
the silence no longer. 

Jean understood him well enough to see what was going on in his mind. She 
realized that she had avoided the show-down for as long as possible. This 
was the one evening of the current week that she didn't have a meeting, and 
there was no way she could get away from the house or him without the talk 
that he was insisting upon. 

When she had thought and planned how she was going to lecture him into 
sexual submission it had all seemed so simple to accomplish. Jean would just 
talk quietly about all she had learned, and she was sure he would 
understand. Naturally, he would adopt her principles just as soon as she had 
explained them to him. 

Yes, in her mind all was sunny and so easy to handle. Of course it was all 
going to occur at some time in the hazy future. Certainly not now. But Mark 
was insisting, and Jean was scared. 

It never occurred to her that she could actually be shaky in her own faith. 
How could that be when she spoke about it so firmly to her committed friends 
and they told her how smart, how strong she was, and how very courageous. 

Jean wished that she could be firmer in her attitude for their 
confrontation, but she was fresh out of time, and short on courage. Without 
realizing how much she was contradicting her own attitude, though, she spent 
the last hour or so before Mark was due home from work bathing, perfuming 
and changing into what she hoped was her most alluring outfit. After 
changing three times and combing her hair through twice, Jean finally 
settled on a long black velvet caftan with a neckline slit all the way down 
below her own cleavage. The sleek fabric clung so to her breasts and hips 
that she was forced to wear a sheer nylon bra in a nude tone that was almost 
no bra at all. She smiled at herself when she noticed how her nipples stood 
erect and pointed right through the bra and the velvet. This could be an 
indication of her arousal at the thought of how her looks would turn her 
husband on, but she told herself it was just nervous tension. 

But that didn't stop her from lifting up the hem of her dress and checking 
out how the sheer nylon panties in a matching nude tone looked below the bra 
for effect. Was she wearing such filmy lingerie with the hopes that her 
husband would take the dress off and be treated to such an erotic sight? 
Nonsense! It was just that this sort of underwear was necessary so there 
wouldn't be any unsightly lines or bulges in the clinging dress. As innocent 
a reason as that. 

Could she find such a blatant excuse for the way she was fixing her make-up 
and putting on her extra-long lashes. And what about the way she was 
brushing her hair until it was perfectly shining, then parting it in the 
center so that it fell to the sides of her face like wings. When she checked 
her reflection, Jean couldn't help but notice that her eyes were positively 
glittering, and there was the merest hint of a sultry smile on her lips. 
Mark would positively flip out when he caught his first look at her. 

Now that was hardly being fair to him, considering the heavy line that she 
was about to lay on his brawny shoulders. If she expected him to accept her 
outlook on conservative sex, then she really shouldn't be flaunting her hot 
body in his face. 

So how come there was still twenty minutes left and she wasn't doing a thing 
about changing her appearance? 

Don't think about it, Jean warned herself. Your act could fall apart before 
he even comes home. 

Filling her mind with thoughts about the speech that she had to give at her 
next charity function, Jean absent-mindedly set the table for a candle-light 
dinner and turned the stereo on for some romantic mood music. The food was 
warming in the oven, and everything was in readiness when Mark's car was 
heard in the driveway. 

He walked in wearing his usual hopeful expression, and this time he was 
rewarded. The last thing he expected to see was his puritanical wife 
standing there and looking as yummy as a movie sex symbol. Only one possible 
thought could have flashed through his head at that moment. Jean had 
reverted to her former sexy self. The siege was over and Mark's cock was 
going to ride high tonight! 

It was all he could do not to dash right into the living room and toss her 
down on the carpet. She was certainly dressed for that kind of action, but 
the expression that he saw on her face just didn't match. There he saw the 
same self-righteousness that he had been hating for the past horrible 
months. The two just didn't add up. 

Mark didn't want to believe that this was another one of her teases. She 
hadn't pulled a stunt like that since the night before they were married, 
offering herself to him in every way but the final way. Well, he would just 
have to wait it out, and if she proved to be playing a game with him, then 
this would be the last straw and she was going to change her ways or he was 
walking the hell out of there. 

No sense in wasting words or time...."Well, little girl, what game are we 
playing tonight?" 

"Why Mark, what ever are you talking about?" 

"You look good enough to eat right now, but I bet that if I even lay a hand 
on your tit, you'll start pounding your Bible at me." 

"You don't trust me at all, do you?" 

"When was the last time that you gave me a reason to?" 

"Come on, Mark. I got all dressed up and prepared a special dinner for you 
so we can relax and have that little chat you wanted." 

"That little chat as you put it, concerns the major portion of our lives, 
the time we spend in bed together. Next to whether we want to continue 
living together or not, I can't think of anything more important." 

"I'm not arguing, honey. I'm just trying to make this whole business as 
pleasant as possible." 

"Jean, we are not negotiating a union contract. We are talking about sex, 
fucking, screwing. Do you understand?" 

"There's no need for dirty talk." 

"Or dirty anything, right?" 

"Come on, honey. Let's have dinner and calm down a little. I promise you 
we'll straighten this out tonight." 

"Baby, the only thing I want straight right now is this starving cock of 
mine. Tell you what. You give me a little fuck now, and I'll listen to 
everything you have to say later. I won't interrupt and I'll really think 
about it all. What do you say?" 

Mark sounded sincere enough, and if submitting to this one last demand meant 
that he would be in a more receptive mood for her little dissertation, then 
Jean figured that a small fuck might be worth her trouble. She would 
cooperate with him this time and get it over with fast. 

About the best way to accomplish that was to put on the old sexy image that 
he had always loved so much. Maybe he would be so pleased with her 
performance that he would be satisfied enough to accept the new regime she 
had planned for them without argument. Oh, Jean expected that he would 
probably falter from time to time. But that was to be expected from the 
weaker of the species. Her sisters in the movement always reminded her of 
that. 

It wasn't too difficult for Jean to bring her spirit back to the old days. 
They were a strategic part of her life not too long ago. In fact, she was a 
little disturbed that she was able to slip back into that role so easily 
now. Even while she was crossing the room and holding out her arms to her 
husband, she had to remind herself that she must not lose control of her 
emotions and allow her passions to rise too high. One wrong move at such a 
critical time and all would surely be lost. Once Mark heard her speech, he 
would automatically throw her own sexuality right back in her face. 

No problem. Jean usually took great pride in her cunning and her 
self-control. If this was going to be a test of those virtues, then she 
would certainly come through it with flying colors. She would turn Mark on, 
give him what he wanted, and later have the perfect illustration to prove 
just how base and vulgar this sort of activity really was. 

"All right, Mark," she said in her sultriest voice. "We'll make love and any 
way you want it." 

"I can't believe my ears." 

"If you're going to be sarcastic, we'll just forget the whole thing." 

"I take it back. Come on, baby. Let's do it right here on the sofa, in honor 
of all the times we fooled around when you were babysitting for your kid 
sister." 

The memory of those delicious sessions of sixty-nine with both their ripe 
young bodies cramped together on that narrow length of upholstery came back 
to her with a hot wave of pleasure and she could actually feel her cunt 
going damp just as it did whenever Mark's mouth was within eating distance 
of it. If he was willing for it to be a session of sixty-nine and nothing 
else, Jean wouldn't have minded in the least. 

But she had promised Mark whatever he wanted, and there was no doubt in her 
mind that he was already planning a royal screwing for her. Well, she 
certainly was dressed for the part, and from the blazing look in Mark's 
eyes, he quite agreed. 

"I wouldn't be surprised if you had something like this in mind all along 
from the way you're looking tonight," Mark teased. "It couldn't be that you 
want to pacify me before you drop one of your puritanical lectures in my 
lap, could it?" 

"You were the one who wanted this talk." 

"Okay. So I did. But right now I want something else, and you've always been 
a woman of your word. So come over here and deliver." 

His hands were on her succulent body just as soon as he could reach it, and 
he rubbed his palms up and down the velvet front of her delicious curves 
before he went all the way to her plunging neckline and filled his hands 
with the exposed globes of smooth white flesh. Jean trembled but she made no 
attempt to move away from him. Being handled like this was a sacrifice she 
would have to make in order to achieve her greater goal. Her sisters in the 
cause would be proud of her if they could see her now. 

At first she tried to keep her body rigid so that it would seem she was 
merely submitting and not deriving any real pleasure from his touch. But she 
couldn't get away with it for very long. Mark understood her body only too 
well and he knew just how to get her going. Applying just the right amount 
of pressure, he pressed his palms against her full jugs, and then with an 
upward motion took them right out of her tiny bra so that they swung free 
over the neckline of her dress. He chuckled to himself when he saw that her 
nipples were already dark and erect, even though her expression was still so 
falsely somber. But what did he care about the pretenses she was so 
concerned about when her body was telling him the truth? 

Just to prove his point, Mark closed his fingers around both nipples and 
started to tug at them, feeling how they swelled and elongated under his 
skillful hands. Jean rocked back on her heels for just a moment before she 
regained control of her balance. Her eyes had closed for just a second, but 
it was long enough for Mark to see that she was starting to heat. He circled 
his arm around her waist and gently led her to the sofa. 

"Why don't you get out of that dress before it wrinkles?" he suggested with 
a sly grin. 

"Yes, I suppose you're right." 

Her words could not have been more formal, but the tone of her voice gave 
her away. It was low, and positively dripping with passion. She enjoyed the 
idea of standing before a man and slowly stripping down to her skin. As long 
as she was committed to this session with her husband, then Jean felt he 
deserved a little torture, sweet though it might be. 

While he stretched out on the sofa and opened the fly of his pants so that 
he could take out his cock and start to fondle it, Jean moved about a foot 
away from him and turned halfway around so that he could watch her pulling 
down the zipper in back. The slide made a tiny metallic sound and it seemed 
to get on Mark's nerves because his hand jumped on his cock. His eyes were 
glued to her back as she let the garment fall off her shoulders and then 
slowly rustle its way down along her silken body as she began to move in a 
slow circle. 

Mark was treated to seeing all the angles of her body coming into view as 
the dress slipped down to the floor and she was finally standing in only the 
wispy bra and panties. It had been so long since Mark had seen his wife in 
such an alluring ensemble that it actually took his breath away and all he 
could do was stare for a few moments as he panted and his eyes went wide 
with desire. 

His hand started working more rapidly on his cock and Jean looked down to 
see a weapon that was raging red and quivering. She couldn't help herself 
now. She wanted that cock and there was no two ways about it. About the only 
thing that she could do in order to save her pride just a little was to 
tease her husband some more, so she did not step out of the lingerie 
immediately. Instead she eased the nylon cups back over her breasts and 
turned the stereo music up a little, then began to dance in an exotic way 
that she had once devised when the two of them were high. 

The way that she jiggled her tits, rotated her hips and wiggled her ass all 
over the room, tossing in some bumps and grinds along the way was guaranteed 
to drive Mark insane and it did not fail this time either. He could only 
watch her throwing her cunt in his direction and rubbing her own breasts 
sensuously for so long before he was jumping out of his skin and had to stop 
his fisting motions or he would shoot all over his pants. 

This was the time for Jean's most enticing actions. Still undulating her 
hips as she went, she reached behind and unhooked the bra, twirling it 
around in her hands for a couple of seconds as a strip teaser would, and 
then tossing it across the room. It was time for her panties now, but she 
felt that her husband should perform that service. 

Jean danced her way over to the sofa and then stood up on the end cushion 
with her legs planted firmly and wide apart. She felt all-powerful knowing 
of his needy condition, and intended to use this strength later on when she 
laid down her new conservative laws. 

"Take them off, lover, and you can have what's underneath," she whispered in 
a very husky voice. 

"Oh, baby, let me at them," was all he could say before he reached up to her 
slender waistline and began to pull the little panties down. When his hands 
reached the border of her furry mound, Jean humped it forward a bit and Mark 
could not resist putting his face to it and planting a large wet kiss smack 
on the line of her slit. He held his face there for a couple of seconds to 
inhale the warm, perfumed odor of her, and then continued to draw the 
panties down. By then his hands were trembling but he still managed to make 
quick work of it. 

Jean stepped carefully out of them and then kicked them across the room, 
where they landed right on target, in a small heap over the bra. She wanted 
to laugh because this was getting to be so much fun, but reasoned that a 
show of wholesome entertainment at this time would only be evidence for the 
opposition party later on. It was much better to be masterful with him now 
and hold that strength through the rest of the evening. 

Again, this was cool logic, but her own passion and the impact of his had a 
way of melting all that right down. Mark was going crazy now, and her own 
tantalizing efforts were the reason for it. While she still stood, Mark bent 
all the way over as if he were going to pray in the direction of Mecca and 
began to lick at the inside of Jean's ankles. His lips moved up quickly in a 
wet trail of kisses, and her legs began to shake. Before he was even up at 
the inside of her thighs, Jean's knees turned to water and she sank to the 
sofa with her husband. 

Logic had gone completely out of her head, at least for the moment. She 
opened her arms to Mark and he fell into them, easing her back in the sofa, 
while his mouth was pressed tightly to hers and his tongue searched along 
the backs of her teeth. Jean moaned and threw her arms around his neck. Her 
will was weakening rapidly. 

It seemed that Mark sensed she was momentarily weak, and he took full 
advantage of this. He never stopped working at turning her on even more for 
a second. His cause, always urgent, was truly monumental now. Never since 
the first months that they were married did he have a better chance of 
winning her over to his side of the erotic fence. 

His mouth was actually bruising hers from the force of his kisses and his 
arms gripped her so tightly that she was powerless to fight him off even if 
she had wanted to. But Jean didn't want to. She was overwhelmed by his 
virility and didn't care to think about what the consequences would be if 
she didn't get hold of herself and very soon. There was just no way right 
then. Mark was much too fast for her. 

He eased his face down from hers to the cleavage between her breasts where 
he buried his nose and began to lick, leave a line of spit all the way down 
and then around to the left as he mouthed his way in a complete circle 
around that tit. Her chest was heaving and she wanted him to get right to it 
and suck on that nipple until it hurt, but Mark instead went up and back to 
the cleavage before working his way around the right breast now. 

Jean bit down on her lower lip. She refused to ask for what she wanted.-Mark 
raised his head a little and looked deeply into her eyes. She might not be 
saying anything, but she wasn't fooling him a bit. 

"Did you want something, love?" 

"Oh, nothing in particular." 

"You wouldn't be thinking about me nursing on you a little, would you now?" 

All would be lost if she answered him sarcastically. This was no time for a 
power struggle. So she decided to take a playful tact. He always liked that 
better. 

"Well, the thought did enter my mind," she finally answered with a little 
tweak to his ear. 

"Why don't you ask for it like a good little girl, and maybe daddy will give 
you a lick or two." 

"Please, daddy, will you?" 

"Why, certainly, my dear." 

Mark was full of joy. This to him was the old Jean. It looked like all her 
conservative defenses were finally down and he was actually going to make it 
all the way to the top with her this time. 

He started licking her breast in a circle again, but this time his tongue 
went ever inward in tighter and tighter rings, until he was circling the 
dark rose areole of her nipple and then the nipple itself. Jean put her 
hands to the back of his head and pressed his face closer. 

"Suck them, honey. They're all yours." 

Mark went thirstily to work. He wasn't running scared this time. He was that 
sure this was going to be one fuck that they would accomplish together. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

He moved into another world with her now, leaving the problems festering in 
their marriage behind for the sake of the rare pleasure that he was now 
finding. Even if Jean did harbor some deep, dark motive that he would have 
to face once the fuck was over, Mark was willing to pay the price. 

It had been far too long since they were so emotionally in tune with one 
another, and all he wanted to do was savor this moment, and to hell with the 
rest. His mouth was still full of her tit as he worked his hand between 
their bodies and reached for the plumpness of her vaginal mound. 

There he found her, kinky triangle already damp with arousal, and he wormed 
his finger through the tangle of sticky hairs until he found the red divide 
of her lips. Her clit was easy to find. It was well swollen and sticking 
right up in the air like a little penis looking for someone to play with it. 

As much as Jean enjoyed having her tits sucked, Mark was well aware of how 
much greater was her pleasure when he played with her clit. She never could 
stand much of it without coming. 

And he had always been happy to bring her to orgasm this way. But not this 
time. She was not going to get off that easily. He was going to tease her as 
she had teased him, bring her way up high on lust, and only when she was 
absolutely out of her mind, would he fuck the daylights out of her until she 
could not help but come. 

True, it was going to take a lot of self-control on his part, more than he 
cared to employ at a time like this. But when he considered that even his 
marriage might be at stake, Mark felt it worth a little sacrifice on his 
part. Certainly the joy of her come, when he finally fucked it out of her 
would greatly increase his own pleasure when he finally allowed himself to 
pop. 

He started to work her clit over in just the way that he knew would get her 
engine started in a way that wouldn't quit. By pressing down on it gently 
with two fingers, Mark was able to slide the hood down and feel the button 
within pop up to the air. He pinched it carefully and Jean shuddered. Then 
he really went to work. 

Mark worked that vibrating little button around and around with his 
forefinger, sometimes pressing in and sometimes simply working rapidly until 
he heard her breath whistling through her clenched teeth and felt her soft 
belly begin to hump against his own. This would be a good time to stop 
playing and start fucking. By pressing the rest of his hand down to her slit 
he could feel the juices already trickling out of her. 

But it still wasn't enough. High as she was, she had been like this before 
and snapped out of it in time to keep herself from coming. So Mark continued 
with his handiwork, giving her more of the same treatment, but also turning 
his hand around so that his thumb was on her clit now and he could jam three 
fingers into her mushy hole. These he worked in a circle as well, and her 
bodily motions became more frantic. 

"Mark, Mark," she whimpered. 

"You want to tell me something?" 

"You know, dear." 

"Want my cock?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, I'm not ready to give it to you. You said this is my time, and what I 
feel like doing is playing a little more. So shut up and take it or I might 
just forget the whole deal." 

"Oh, no!" 

"Okay, then, settle down." 

This was more of a warning than a suggestion. Jean put her head back down on 
the throw pillow and closed her eyes, submitting to him now because she felt 
that she had no other choice. Besides, it all felt so wonderful and there 
was the possibility that he wouldn't stop himself before she had a chance to 
get off. Maybe if she just played sexy with him a little more, he would even 
go down on her, and then she could get off for sure. 

So instead of fighting him in even the slightest way, Jean began to moan and 
coo, thinking that her passionate sounds would be an inspiration to him. 
Softly she bucked her pelvis up against his hand, and when his fingers were 
in to her at their deepest, she clenched her vaginal muscles and held him in 
there. 

Her smile was wide and genuine. She really thought she had him ., . he 
really thought he had her. 

Mark never took his eyes off Jean's face for a second. He had watched the 
arrogance disappear, then the reluctance. Now he was seeing her passion 
rising constantly in her blazing eyes and the constant licking of her lips 
with her tongue. He saw how flushed her cheeks became, and then how her 
eyelids began to droop as the pleasure brought her up to a euphoric state. 
Without even having to put his mouth to her cunt, Mark knew that he could 
bring her off in a second just like this if he wanted to. 

But he had no intention of being so easy on her. He wanted her high all 
right. But he wanted her so high that she was hanging over the edge of her 
orgasm without a way to complete it except at the mercy of her husband's 
body. 

Deliberately he slowed down the tempo of his finger fucking, never letting 
up on the depth or the force of it, though. Jean tried just once to get him 
to move a little faster by pressing her hand over his, but it was a futile 
gesture. Mark was in total control of himself and no amount of pressure or 
pleading was going to change his plan. 

Not that Jean would have begged him, even if it meant losing the high 
altogether. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how good he 
was at what he was doing, at least not if she could help it. Yet how could 
she help it? Mark had picked up the tempo of his stroking again until she 
was up at that very same point, and he kept her lingering there until the 
precise second that she would have started to pump juice, only to slow down 
gradually and watch the tears of frustration that were forming in her eyes. 

"You look troubled, my dear," he mocked. "Why don't you tell your dear 
husband all about it." 

"I just think you would like it better if your cock were in my hole instead 
of your hand, love." 

Was she actually asking to be fucked? Mark could hardly believe what he was 
hearing, but he had to. There was no other possible meaning for such a 
phrase. 

The real question was did she want to get it over with, or was she really 
the passionate female now that she used to be. He might have found that out 
if he kept on going with the torturous hand play, but he was almost certain 
she would get off if he started to fuck now. And besides, his cock was 
aching to creep inside of her. 

He couldn't have known, but Jean was just as glad as he was to feel his hand 
moving out of her hole and down to his cock. She had been hanging 
dangerously close to losing all control and begging for a come, and this 
didn't please her in the least. Only during the fuck itself, when Mark was 
likely to lose his head, as well as his control, might Jean still take the 
power over their coupling back for herself. 

For the few seconds that it took for Mark to place his cockhead squarely 
between the lips of her cunt and then start to push inward, Jean's head 
actually did clear a little and she cooled down a couple of degrees, just 
enough to catch sight of her ultimate goal once again. But her control 
didn't last for very long. 

No sooner did Mark start pushing past the oyster lips of her cunt and 
through into her murky depths, stretching her hole wide and twisting his 
cock around on its way in, that Jean was shot right through with erotic 
arousal. She instantly found herself back on that plateau again. In fact, 
she couldn't even wait for his prick to plunge all the way in before she was 
writhing and gyrating, sucking him into her with the strength of her inner 
muscles. 

Mark took a big chance by pulling nearly all the way out and remaining 
poised over her for just an instant. She could have cooled down or she could 
have gone crazily passionate. He took that risk and he won. 

Jean raised her ass all the way off the sofa so that his cock was imbedded 
in her once again, and then she spoke in a voice so low that he could barely 
hear her. The words were slurred with lust, but there could be no mistake. 
Jean was begging for it. 

"Oh fuck me, stud. Fuck me hard as you can." 

"Okay, baby. That's what you'll get." 

He didn't see any further reason to toy with her, so sure was he now that he 
would be feeling her come all over his prick at any moment. He could stroke 
her fast or slow, long and hard, or nice and easy. Prolong it for the both 
of them as much as he cared to, and still she would come. She would come a 
gusher. It couldn't end any other way. 

Mark never felt more manly, more virile than he did right then. Jean looked 
sweet, passionately submissive, as if she were pleased to be his victim, and 
about to burst loose as a hellcat on her own at any moment now. Her energy 
seemed to be lying in wait, until, by the masterful stroking of his powerful 
prick, he broke through the last of her cool exterior and the sensuous woman 
within her exploded. 

Jean's thinking was a study in contrasts. At moments she was in accord with 
her husband's wishes, wanting to give up the struggle and be the passionate 
woman that was constantly repressed within her. It would be easy, and oh, so 
enjoyable to surrender to his virility and feel herself soaring up to the 
heavens of erotic pleasure until that roaring explosion when their orgasms 
would be as one. 

But there were also the moments when she understood the consequences of such 
a surrender. Give in on this score and there would be no use in trying to 
talk him out of sexuality from then on and in to more intellectual 
enlightenment. He would just laugh at her, and point out her sopping wet 
cunt for emphasis. How would she ever be able to explain to her friends how 
she had lost the battle with her legs spread? 

So many conflicting thoughts, but not enough time to sort them out. His cock 
was already pounding into her, sliding along her vaginal barrel and 
stimulating every nerve ending and fiber in her body. She felt a little 
dizzy, as if the hard slamming to her body were knocking her logic loose and 
all those rational thoughts were getting jumbled together with the 
passionate ones. It was impossible for her now to know just what was right. 
Besides, how did that really matter when Mark was unlikely to pull his dick 
out of her and forget the fuck at this stage of it? 

Could she call on her will for this fuck as she had before and save herself 
before it was too late? That didn't seem likely with the way that Mark was 
shoving it to her. If she didn't know better, Jean could almost swear that 
he had popped some pep pills on the way home. Either that or his balls had 
somehow gotten supercharged. 

Just how he could stroke-her so hard and yet so fast, and never lose control 
of the way that his body was moving was beyond her. He even reached under 
her ass and raised her body higher so he could get in still deeper. Now 
Jean's head was pressed down on the sofa cushion and the rest of her body 
was up in the air. 

Her calves were rubbing against his shoulders and as the fucking became more 
frantic and she had to hook her knees over his arms, or her legs would have 
been flying around in the air. Somehow her body started to jolt along with 
him and she was rocking like crazy. This motion became so wild that her head 
was jostled against the arm of the sofa and she was now forced to hang her 
arms around his neck and hope that her brains wouldn't be mashed before the 
fuck was over. 

Now it was all she could do to keep from being fucked senseless, much less 
worry about keeping her cool. He had her body raging hot before his cock 
first hit rock bottom, and she already felt as if her flesh were burning off 
her bones while everything inside of her was molten and bubbling. If he went 
on the way he was going much longer, Mark was going to get her so high that 
she would be past the point of orgasm and the top of her head was likely to 
blow off. 

Desperately she thought about ways that she might be able to cool down a 
little. She could get her mind on something else, or maybe even spoil the 
fuck for Mark in some way so that he wouldn't bother about popping. But that 
would only make him furious and he wouldn't be too attentive to anything she 
might want to say after that. 

Submit? Allow herself to come? Maybe she should just award him this one 
battle so that she could ultimately win the war. Surely there had to be some 
way that she could talk her way out of having given him an orgasm and then 
regain her footing in her lecture on toning down their sexual activities. 

If only she really did have a choice. Right then it seemed that Mark would 
be the one to decide if one or both of them came and even when that was to 
happen. Try as hard as she did, she could not control the way her body was 
responding to him. Already there were small waves of lust pouring out of her 
and taking with them little rivers of her female honey. It couldn't be very 
much longer before the tidal wave began. 

Jean finally had to accept reality as Mark was slamming into her so hard 
that her teeth were rattling in her head. This time Mark was going to make 
it and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about stopping him. In the 
face of the inevitable, she might as well just lie back and enjoy it. 

Stupidly she still tried to withhold evidence of some of her emotions from 
him by clenching her teeth and burying her face in his shoulder so that he 
couldn't see her expressions. But as the going got rougher and her own body 
went into raging spasms of lust, she wound up biting into his neck and then 
digging her nails into his back to let off the steam that was building and 
which she refused to allow any other form of expression. 

"Come on baby," he growled in her ear. "I know you're almost there. Just let 
it happen. We'll make it together." 

"No, Mark. No." 

"Don't fight me on this. Let it happen and I promise you everything will be 
all right. We'll work everything out. Together baby. Everything together. 
Make it with me." 

"All right, Mark. But hurry. Please hurry because I can't stand any more of 
this. It's got me too hot. Too hot, Mark." 

She was finally pleading with him, admitting her urgent need for orgasm just 
as he had dreamt he would hear so many times before this stroke of good 
luck. Mark wished that he had time to jump for joy, but there was only a 
moment for a few more humps before his balls exploded. Mark closed his eyes 
and went into his last lap by taking shorter strokes now, but so fast that 
he could barely feel them himself. 

He didn't need to feel much more. His balls were already churning and his 
body tingling and jumping from the waist down. The knowledge that Jean could 
not prevent herself from coming had him so incredibly high that he had to 
plead with his own consciousness for just a few more seconds in which he 
could force her to let loose. 

Blessedly he had them. Three more lightning strokes and Jean's body began to 
shudder as if it were flying apart at the seams. He hung on to her tightly 
but was still in great danger of being unseated. This problem became even 
worse when she started to drop her load and her tunnel was suddenly flooded. 
Her come washed all around his cock, and when the second wave began, he 
almost slipped out. 

It might be his own orgasm that was lost if he didn't do something, and damn 
fast. On the strength of his will alone, Mark urged his spunk to bridge the 
gap of his shaft and make it to her channel just in time to mix with the 
fluids that were already swirling around it. 

Jean gasped, and then fell away. For a few seconds Mark thought that she 
must have fainted, but there wasn't much he could do about it as a red 
curtain had fallen before his eyes and his head was whirling with delirious 
pleasure. He allowed his body to shake on top of hers until the last of 
several hot gushes of come shot into her body. 

Only then could he pay any attention to his wife. She was back with him now, 
and mad as a hornet! 

Jean was already trying to control her anger, though. She felt somehow 
cheated, even abused that Mark had succeeded in his quest to overpower her, 
and worse yet, that she had failed in a contest of wills with a man. 

But if she started to scream at him now, they would just end up in a 
shouting match, and that would be the end of the evening. Mark would no 
longer feel the need for that discussion he had been demanding, and she 
would have no chance at all to try and make points, however few, for her 
side. In the long run, she would be even angrier than she was now, and that 
would never do for the image she was trying so hard to form in all other 
ways. 

So she laid as she was with Mark on top of her like so much dead weight, and 
waited for a sense of calm to return before she did anything at all. Mark 
seemed to be taking an exceptionally long time to climb off her after his 
cock had gone soft, but she understood that he was just rubbing her face in 
the dirt a little, and she let it be. 

Not until he was on his feet and hunting around on the coffee table for a 
cigarette, did Jean finally feel cool enough to do any kind of talking at 
all. 

"Are you ready for that discussion now?" she asked in a scholarly tone. 
"Because one is certainly needed here." 

"You really are a bitch, do you know that Jean? For the first time since I 
can't remember when you let something decent go down between us, and a 
second later you're ready to rip it all apart." 

"This is the best time in the world to show you how sordid all this is, 
honey. Look at us. We're like a pair of sweating pigs and I have all this 
vile stuff dripping out of my body. A woman is not a toy, Mark. She should 
be respected, not abused." 

"What are you saying, that I took advantage of you, you poor defenseless 
creature? That wasn't exactly a rape, you know. I got the definite feeling 
that you didn't quite hate it." 

Jean felt a moment of remorse when she saw the hurt look on her husband's 
face. Whatever he did, there could be no doubt that it was out of love for 
her, and yet this knowledge did not fit in with the scheme of the women's 
movement she was so enthralled with these days. Her friends said that all 
men were users and rapists of a sort. None of them had ever mentioned the 
word love or what it was supposed to do for sexuality. She was a little lost 
now and had to think fast. 

"All right. I didn't hate it," she finally answered. "I'm human too, and I 
have my weaknesses. But I'm working hard to overcome them and I wish that 
you would do the same. We would really be better people for the effort. 
There's so much more good we could be doing with all that creative energy. 
Good for society." 

"Will you get off that soapbox, Jean? I've heard it all before from you and 
those dykey friends of yours. You want to help the downtrodden masses, 
that's fine with me, but your first duty lies here with your husband, or 
haven't you holy ladies read the Bible lately?" 

Jean was stumped again. She really wished that Mark didn't make such good 
sense. It was difficult to argue with logic plus love, when all she had on 
her own side was the philosophy of a group of women who said it all usually 
with a brimming martini in their hands. There was still a very big part of 
her that wanted to lay the entire problem at Mark's feet and ask him to make 
all the decisions about it. 

But that would never do. Her women friends would never forgive her if they 
should hear about it. And they probably would, at that. Caroline especially 
seemed to be able to worm everything out of Jean, one way or another. No, 
Jean would have to make a firm stand or she would not be able to live with 
herself. 

Thinking that she could almost see Caroline and her other friends standing 
around them now, as if in judgment, Jean once again found the courage to 
take a firm stand with her husband. 

"I'm not saying that I shouldn't do my duty in our marriage. I will have sex 
with you on occasion, so you can get the relief that you men seem to need so 
much, but I don't see any reason why we should have to screw all over the 
house and do a lot of kinky stuff other than intercourse besides. The Bible 
doesn't preach blowjobs, you know. And as for ass fucks, the women say that 
is the lowest form of female debasement imaginable. If you want to fuck an 
ass go and find yourself a man." 

"Jean, if I wasn't looking at the same beautiful face and body that I fell 
in love with and married, I would swear that there was a stranger living 
with me. You used to love those blowjobs, and if that's dirty, then the cunt 
lapping and fingerfucking has to be just as dirty if not more so. You want 
to do without them?" 

Jean's face grew red. He was really hitting below the belt now. Since her 
taking of this new philosophy on sex, she had refrained from actually coming 
out and asking for either of those things. But she never fought the pleasure 
that they gave her when Mark decided to do them on his own. Fair was fair, 
she supposed. If he had to do without his blowjobs, then she would have to 
do without her own pet vices. 

"Look, Mark. I'm not asking you to make any sacrifices, that I'm not willing 
to make myself. Think of how it will build our characters. And with all that 
energy left over we can...." 

"What? Take over the world? End starvation in Africa? Maybe discover a cure 
for the common cold?" 

"Please don't be sarcastic. There are a lot of social causes that we could 
work on. We could do it together, Mark. That's what you promised before. 
Don't you remember?" 

"With a hard-on and a wife who's cooperating for a change, I probably would 
have promised you the moon. But it's over now and I have my banner-waving 
shrew back with me. Forget it, Jean. That doctrine of yours just won't work 
with me. If the husbands of those shriveled up women go along with it, it 
must be because they've got other women on the side. Or maybe they're not so 
hot in the lay department to begin with. Would you like me to take up with 
another woman, Jean?" 

"No, of course not. Extra-marital affairs won't solve anything. Won't you at 
least read up on some of the reports I have here on the various causes and 
see if you can't find one that you would be interested in? Just try my 
suggestion and you'll see how busy you'll be. Why you'll hardly even notice 
that you're spending less time in wasteful screwing." 

"Shut up, will ya! I'm not going to listen to any more of this. I don't know 
you, Jean. Whoever you are now is a woman that I don't have any use for. 
Keep going like this and you'll find yourself without a husband permanently, 
instead of part-time the way you like it now. We could just see how valuable 
those causes of yours are when you're sleeping alone and paying the mortgage 
for yourself." 

Mark terminated the discussion by stalking out of the living room. He went 
to the hall closet, grabbed a jacket, and seconds later was slamming the 
front door on his way out. His car raced out of the driveway, and Jean was 
left all alone to decide whether her lofty ideals were so worthwhile after 
all. 

It was well after eleven o'clock and she had no idea at all where he might 
be going. Mark just didn't pick up at night and drive off like that. It 
wasn't his style and she was really worried. 

Maybe he would go off and get drunk, possibly even drive off a cliff or into 
a streetlamp. Jean dearly loved her husband and didn't wish him any harm. 
She just wanted him to see the light. As she picked up her clothes and went 
upstairs to take a bath, she suddenly remembered one of the last things that 
he had tossed at her before leaving. He had asked if she wanted him to take 
his sexual needs to another woman for relief. 

Oh God! Could he be on his way to pick up some cheap tramp and take out all 
his anger by fucking the rest of the night away with her? Please not that! 

Then she shrugged her shoulders and fought back the tears that were welling 
up in her eyes. Not much she could do about it now, one way or the other. 
Just try to get some sleep and keep her fingers crossed that he would come 
home reasonably in one piece. 

It was nearly two A.M. before Jean actually closed her eyes, with still no 
sign of Mark. She hoped against hope that he was just driving around and 
trying to clear his head before he came home to straighten everything out 
with her. After all, he was pretty intelligent, even if he was a man, and 
sooner or later he should come around to her way of thinking. 

Jean would have to remember to be soft-spoken with him, and not dictatorial 
as she had been so far that evening. Perhaps a little bit of femininity 
would do wonders. But just a little. Holding a hand, some sweet expressions. 
Her friends should not frown at little touches like that, considering the 
overall scope of what they could accomplish. 

These thoughts were much better to lie alone with than her fears for Mark's 
whereabouts. She didn't like to face the fact that the possibility of his 
being with another woman was bothering her more than the possibility that he 
might be lying injured in a ditch, but it was true just the same. But this 
was just one more thought too disturbing to deal with in the middle of the 
night. 

Wherever he was, she hoped he remembered that her love went with him. 
Everything would look better in the morning, and he would surely be back 
long before then. After some sleep Jean expected that she would be able to 
present her ideas far more effectively, and that Mark would be far more 
willing to listen. How could there be any doubt about it? Her sisters in the 
cause must have had some resistance with their own husbands, and all now 
bragged of their excellent relationships. 

All she had to do was be firm and handle him gently. Now, wasn't that 
logical? 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

By two A.M. Mark was not driving, nor was he even slightly drunk. He had not 
picked up a hooker either. 

After driving around for less than ten minutes, he knew that he needed an 
old friend to talk to. Someone who would remember the real Jean, and offer 
some sympathetic advice. He didn't want to leave Jean, but it was beginning 
to look like he wouldn't have any other choice. 

Trina Reynolds would want to help. She had been divorced from Mark's best 
friend Ronnie for about six months, but Mark and Jean had stayed closely in 
touch with Jean's college sorority sister just the same. They had never seen 
any reason to drop either one of their friends simply because their marriage 
had not worked out. Trina, Mark supposed was still Jean's best friend, 
although his wife hardly seemed to have time for her with all her committees 
and club friends. 

He didn't even think of stopping at a pay phone before driving over there, 
so sure he was that he would be welcome, even at this odd time of the night. 
He saw her apartment as a refuge now, and she as a sweet aunt, who would 
know just how to make everything all right again. 

The doorman didn't seem too keen on announcing him when he arrived at her 
building, but five dollars eased his anxiety a great deal. Trina sounded 
hoarse, and a little dazed on the intercom. It took her two tries to 
understand who was there, but she finally gave her permission for Mark to 
come up. 

While he was riding up to her floor in the elevator, Mark felt slightly 
foolish. It was so late, and she had probably been fast asleep. Could be 
that she wasn't alone and what right did he have to barge in on her fun and 
games, just because he was having trouble getting his own. 

Thinking of fifteen different ways that he could excuse himself at her open 
door and then leave the building, Mark walked up the hallway and then 
stopped for a second because he felt a funny tugging at his groin. There 
wasn't any reason in the world why he should feel his sex stirring right 
then. If anything, he was depressed and tense. But he felt the tug again, 
and reached inside his pants to adjust his cock, which had swelled a little. 
His mind drifted to Jean by free association, and his cock went down again. 
What was the use in feeling sexy if he didn't have a wife who wanted to 
enjoy the fun with him? 

Trina came to the door almost immediately. Sleep was still in her eyes, but 
that wasn't the only thing about her that Mark noticed. He had been so 
concerned with his troubles at home that he had almost forgotten that Trina 
also was a very beautiful woman, as well as a dear and intelligent friend. 

She had hair of the softest spun gold and had been born with it, and since 
she was a sun worshipper, her skin was nearly all year 'round a bronze shade 
that made her light blue eyes look like ice. It was easy to see that her 
body was truly more luscious than he had remembered, as well. The negligee 
she was wearing covered almost nothing from his view. 

Her breasts were at least as large as Jean's, and Mark could see right 
through the filmy fabric to the dark coral nipples that stood out straight 
against it. As he looked quickly down her body in the hopes that he could 
take it all in before she realized what he was doing, Mark made out the 
golden triangle of her bush above a pair of beautifully formed legs. Now the 
tug at his groin was really strong, and he was glad that he had thought to 
wear a jacket which happened to cover that area. He certainly didn't want 
Trina to get the wrong idea. 

"Mark, what is it? Is something wrong with Jean?" 

"I guess you can say that. She's not injured. Well at least not physically. 
It's her head that's gone all screwy." 

"You haven't left her, have you?" 

"No, not yet. But I am seriously thinking about it. That's why I thought I 
should talk to you." 

"At this hour? Then you must have had a real battle. You've always been so 
sensible, Mark. If it has you here so late, then this must really be bad. 
I'm glad you came here because I want to help. Well, don't just stand there 
in the doorway with me dressed like this. What will the neighbors say?" 

She smiled and giggled, as if there were no possibility in the world there 
might be anything dirty going on between them, which was why it made such a 
good joke. Mark tried to smile, too, but he didn't find it quite so funny. 

Mark followed her into the apartment keeping a little distance away from her 
so that he could get a good view of her ass as she went. He could make out 
the crack between her plump little cheeks quite clearly, and his mouth 
watered at the sight of it. Now there was an ass that would be a pleasure to 
fuck! 

He felt guilty for his thoughts. After all, he was supposed to be there for 
help in mending his tearing marriage. But he was still a man, wasn't he? And 
he certainly wasn't wearing blinders. There couldn't be any harm in just 
looking ... well, in thinking a little too. 

Mark looked at her gently rolling form for as long as he dared to. His cock 
was rapidly rising and he knew that he had to get it down again before she 
suggested that he take off his jacket. 

Think of Jean. Think of your marriage. 

This helped a little, and the photos of Trina and Ronnie which she had saved 
and had posted all over the apartment helped even more. His cock went down 
and he heaved a sigh of relief as he took off his jacket and tossed it on a 
chair. 

"I really should put on a robe," Trina said by way of apology. "But to tell 
you the truth, I really am comfortable this way, and after all, we are old 
friends, right?" 

"It's okay by me, Trina. Think of me like a brother, and help me if you can 
on this thing with Jean." 

"I want to hear all about it. But first, I think a tall Scotch is in order 
for you. You certainly look like you can use one." 

Mark turned his face to the wall and studied a painting while Trina mixed 
the drink for him. He knew what would happen if he looked anywhere at her 
but her face. Much as he needed to talk to her about Jean, Mark was 
beginning to see that it wasn't going to be very easy, what with the 
distraction of that lush body. 

"Come on now, that painting is no masterpiece," Trina chided him. "You don't 
have to hide tears from me." 

Mark blushed. He could hardly explain the real reason for keeping his face 
averted, but he didn't want her to think that he was weak and tearful 
either. 

"Guess my mind was off at the house, Trina. I know Jean must be worried, but 
I can't call or go back there until I decide what I'm going to do about her 
and this esoteric plane she's been on lately. It isn't any fun living with a 
missionary, you know." 

"I had no idea that it had gotten that bad. I've noticed that whenever we're 
together, her conversation is mostly the women's movement and all those 
charity groups she's always joining up with. But I never thought that Jean 
would be stupid enough to let shit like that take over her life." 

"Well, she has, and mine too. In some very dangerous ways, I might add." 

"Are you telling me that it's affected your sex life? I always thought you 
two were ace lovers together. I don't mind telling you that I was often 
envious of her for getting laid so often and by a guy I was sure had to be a 
real stud." 

This was the moment that Trina chose for giving Mark a going-over with her 
eyes. She had enjoyed a few fantasies about making it with him in her time, 
but Jean and he were so obviously happy. Trina would never had dreamed of 
coming between them. Now that it looked like their marriage might be going 
on the rocks, though, she couldn't help wondering about Mark as a possible 
stud again. 

But he was there for her help in saving that marriage. It really was selfish 
of her to think about how horny she was this night when two of her best 
friends needed her assistance so badly. With great sincerity she went to the 
sofa where Mark was sitting, and sat down next to him, taking his hand in 
hers and fully meaning to simply comfort him until he was ready to open up 
and tell her the whole story. 

Mark no sooner felt her almost naked flesh pressing against the side of his 
leg and her hand in his right over his crotch than his cock shot instantly 
up and hit against her palm. He caught the startled expression on her face, 
but she tried very hard to ignore his rising boner. 

It must have been a reflex action because he had probably gone without a 
fuck for a while. A strictly innocent thing and she would have to be 
understanding and not embarrass him by drawing attention to it. So Trina 
took her hand away and tried to be very serious. 

"It must be very rough for you at home, Mark. But you and Jean could always 
talk things out together. Haven't you been able to tell her how you're 
suffering with all this time she's been spending at those meetings? Although 
I suppose that she feels a little sex, especially the hot brand that you two 
usually trip out on together must be more kicks than most guys get if they 
have sex every night in the week." 

"You have to be kidding, Trina. Those days are long over. I'm lucky if I get 
it once a week, and now Jean has decided that all men are rapists and she 
refuses to let me use her body as a toilet, which is just the way she put 
it. Instead I'm supposed to join some of her groups and, are you ready for 
this, expend my energy in more positive ways." 

Trina couldn't help it. She laughed out loud. That had to be the most 
idiotic notion she had heard in a long while. She would have tried to joke 
Mark out of taking that nonsense seriously, but she realized that Jean was 
deadly serious and that Mark's suffering because of it was no laughing 
matter. Again she took his hand, but this time in her own lap. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Jean really is off her rocker, in 
this thing and she has to be straightened out, but fast. Is she at least 
keeping up her looks?" 

"Sometimes. Well, she did tonight.' A real knock-out like the good old days, 
but you have to see her when she goes to those meetings, expensive, but 
severely tailored suits and her hair so done up by the beauty shop that when 
you touch it, you touch cardboard. When she comes home after being with 
those women, I would swear that they had shot her full of ice." , "Oh, Mark! 
You poor dear." 

As she made this soothing remark, Trina happened to press her hand tightly 
on top of his, and down Mark's hand went against her heavenly golden mound. 
He sincerely wanted to take his hand away before the sensation made his cock 
any harder, but Trina was looking deeply into his eyes and seemed unaware 
that she had him clamped down there. 

He thought it best to make believe that it wasn't happening, but his cock 
didn't seem to play along. It was nearly full strength and bobbing in his 
pants. If she looked down or got any closer, she was going to know how much 
she was turning him on. How was something like this going to solve his 
problem with Jean? Trina would probably take notice and laugh him right out 
of the house. Who could believe a guy was trying to save his marriage when 
he was sitting there with a fucking hard-on! 

"Trina, would you mind if I walked around the room a little? I'm feeling 
kind of restless." 

The unexpected remark momentarily drew her attention away from his body and 
up to his face. Mark was just able to pull his hand out of her crotch and 
stand up quickly. While his back was turned to her he took a quick dive into 
his pants and yanked his cock up against his belly in the hopes that his 
condition would not be so noticeable. 

Trina was silent, and as he paced, she looked him carefully up and down. He 
was upset, to be sure. But she also knew an excited guy when she saw one, 
and with a cock as big as Mark's, there was no way he could hide his 
hard-on, no matter where he pushed it. The outline was very clear in his 
tight pants, and her mouth watered. 

Just before Mark had come to her apartment, she had been tossing and turning 
in her bed, trying to decide if it would help her sleeplessness any to 
masturbate for the third time that night. She was glad to be rid of her 
husband as he wasn't much of a lay, but now she knew that what she had then 
was better than the occasional fucks from dates that she had now. Phoney 
strangers just weren't to her taste. 

She tried to tell herself that this was the only reason she was feeling so 
hot while looking at Mark. Trina would never even consider betraying her own 
best friend. 

But Mark was her friend too, and he certainly did need comforting tonight. 
She could just do that much for him and let it go no further. A little 
sisterly affection and he would relax enough for the two of them to work out 
a way that they would be able to reach Jean and snatch her away from that 
intellectual crowd she was running with. 

"Come on, Mark. Why don't you come to me and let me help you unwind a 
little. Say! How about a little massage? It should do wonders for those 
tense muscles. We've got plenty of time to talk after that. Jean is probably 
asleep by now and won't even notice how late you walk in." 

A massage. Would he be able to stand having those long, slender fingers all 
over his body without trying to fuck her? She would probably want his shirt 
off, maybe even his pants. And her in that sheer negligee ...-. 

"I don't know, Trina. It really is late." 

"Nonsense. I'm not letting you walk out of here while you're still so jumpy 
and nothing is settled. You can keep your shorts on if you're suddenly 
feeling shy. But take your shirt and pants off, then climb into my bed on 
your belly. Trust me, Mark. They tell me that I have pretty talented hands." 

He couldn't answer her last remark. No matter what he said, it would have 
come out dirty. It would probably be all right. Trina was their childhood 
friend. She wouldn't have any other interest in him but a sisterly one. So 
what was the harm in a little massage? Goodness knew, he could certainly use 
a little pampering, however innocent. 

"Okay, Trina." He finally said. "Sounds good. Give me a minute in there to 
get undressed." 

Suddenly he felt like he was sixteen years old, and shy to be even partially 
undressed in front of a female. While she waited patiently in the living 
room, he dropped his pants and shirt. His cock was huge by then, and he was 
grateful for her suggestion that he lie on his belly. Mark was ashamed of 
himself for feeling so horny, but there didn't seem much that he could do 
about it. Trina really turned him on. 

He couldn't even allow himself to dwell on this thought. Trying to 
understand the reasons would only make him that much more excited. No matter 
how crazy Jean was driving him, there was no other man in her life and she 
didn't deserve to have him cheat on her. 

Mark rubbed his cock a couple of times as he thought of Trina about to join 
him in this bed. It could happen so easily if she was willing. Who would 
ever know? 

No, Trina would never allow it, and Mark would never forgive himself for 
trying. He lay down on his belly now and pressed his groin into the 
mattress. They would talk a little about Jean during the massage. Maybe in 
such a relaxed mood, they might be able to find some answers. 

"You ready, Mark?" 

"Sure. Come on in." 

Trina stopped for a second in the doorway, taking a long, hungry look at the 
prostrate male form on her bed. God! Did she ever need a hot cock that 
night, and his certainly appeared to be in the right condition, even if he 
was taking great pains to hide this fact from her. 

They were friends, supposed to be like sister and brother. Jean was her 
dearest friend. Trina had no right to even entertain such a thought. It was 
heresy. 

She shook her head a little to clear it, then walked into the room with a 
straight face. The lights were on and this made the scene far less romantic 
than she would have liked. A soft, dim light would have been more 
appropriate to something sexy. Just as well. The less stimulation she had 
from their surroundings, the better she would be able to manage. 

Trina was no expert on massage, but she knew how to work the kinks out of a 
man's neck and shoulders, and was reasonably good with the rest of his back. 
The problem was that she had learned the massage techniques after her 
break-up with Ronnie. She had only tried it on her lovers so far, and then 
it was always with the intention of turning them on with her hands once she 
worked her way down far enough. 

This time she would have to stop short of the ass. No reason to be down 
there anyway, if her intention was just to relax him, and that had to be her 
only intention. 

"All right, Mark. You just close your eyes, and think the most pleasant 
thoughts you possibly can. I'll do the rest." 

From a nightstand, Trina took out a bottle of baby oil, then poured some 
into her palms. This substance she rubbed back and forth for a bit, in order 
to warm it a little. When she began to apply it, Trina started at the sides 
of his neck, massaging the tight muscles that she found there with her 
finger-tips and then worked her way to the back of his neck, where the 
tension was even more evident. 

When she reached the point between his neck and shoulders, Trina started her 
massage in earnest. He really needed this manipulation. She found the 
muscles practically tied up in knots, and had to dig in hard with her 
fingertips, working them out like a fan until she heard him sigh and felt 
his upper body begin to relax just a little. 

Trina sincerely believed that nothing more would come of this than the 
massage, and so did Mark. He had to admit that her deft fingers certainly 
did feel good, and that he was feeling considerably better since lying down 
on her bed. If Jean was really the understanding woman that she claimed to 
be, then she could not see the harm in what he and her friend were doing 
now. 

Then he decided that he would not think about Jean for a while. It would 
help him to relax more if he cleared his mind of his problems. Lying there 
with his eyes closed and his hard cock throbbing softly against Trina's 
sheets while she massaged the tension out of his body was best for him now. 

She was down to his shoulder blades by then, working more oil into his skin, 
which felt strangely hot wherever he touched her. Mark understood the 
tingling sensation to be caused by her kneading fingers, but the heat and 
his rippling muscles could not be explained away so easily. This became even 
more intense when she started working down along his spine, and Mark 
couldn't help wondering just how far down she would go before she stopped. 

He was caught between wanting her to go all the way down to his ass and 
below to what was hanging hard and heavy between his legs, and wanting her 
to stop before it was too late. Massaging down a little too low could mean 
the end of their friendship and the beginning of something that both of them 
would probably regret later on. 

He said nothing one way or the other. If the responsibility lay on Trina's 
shoulders, Mark reasoned that he could always blame it on her should things 
go a little too far. She was down at the base of his spine now, actually 
with the tips of her long fingers resting at the elastic waistband of his 
shorts. 

She hesitated there, and he knew that she had to be considering what her 
next move was going to be. His heart pounded in his chest. The thought that 
she was actually considering playing with him, even if only a little, 
excited him tremendously. He wanted to put his hand under his body and 
stroke himself, but that would have been too obvious. 

Tensely then, he waited to see what she decided to do. 

The deep breath that she took was actually audible to Mark. He could not see 
that she had noticed the way he raised his hips slightly because his hard-on 
was becoming so uncomfortable. From behind she had a pretty good view of it, 
especially when he spread his legs a bit, and what she saw down there was 
awfully tantalizing. 

Trina's hands hovered over the back reaches of his crotch, and her palms 
sweated for the touch of it. It was wrong, but so appealing. 

"Your leg muscles look kind of tense, too, Mark. I think I should do some 
work on them as well." 

"Well ... uhhh. Yes. Maybe you're right," he answered after some very fast 
calculating. 

Mark reasoned that even if she did not do it deliberately, Trina, by 
massaging his thighs, and preferably the insides of them, might just touch 
against his balls by accident. Even such a slight touch would have done him 
good at this point. He was very excited and wished that just this once they 
could put Jean and friendship aside for the sake of simple lust. 

Trina had already gone past that point in her mind. She was just too horny 
and Mark's cock was too handy. Her hands were shaking as she went to work on 
the fleshy part of the backs of his thighs, just below his ass. Working at 
this area on both legs furiously, Trina's face was bent right over Mark's 
body and her mouth was so hungry to take a little bite out of his ass that 
she actually drooled on his shorts. 

Although she did try valiantly to keep her cool, her cunt was starting to 
water. Mark's legs continually spread until they were far apart and she 
could see the huge bulge quite clearly between them. She had every intention 
of working down the backs of his thighs to his calves, but her hands went to 
his balls instead. Her fingers were still working at the soft flesh on 
either side, but her thumbs continually rubbed against each hairy ball and 
it wasn't very long before Mark could not lay still. 

"Aren't you getting a little off target?" he timidly asked. 

"Maybe I'm finally getting on target, Mark. You're already in my bed, and 
things are not exactly terrific in your own. Maybe I can be a really good 
friend and give you what you need the most." 

There was no further discussion. Mark didn't have to think about her offer 
twice. Jean was out of his mind with lust and his tensions were practically 
gone. He rolled over on his back now and looked up into the flushed face of 
the beautiful woman. Suddenly he realized how very badly he wanted to fuck 
Trina with no thoughts of guilt about it at all. 

She looked at him once and knew what his answer was. While he laid there and 
watched, she dropped her negligee off her shoulders and slipped out of it. 
Mark's shorts were next, and as she tugged them down, her head went down 
too. She took a quick lick at his belly button and he shuddered with 
delight. And when his shorts were off and his cock bobbed straight up in the 
air, Trina rubbed her nose playfully back and forth across the tip of it, 
until Mark put an end to her teasing by pressing her head down with his hand 
until she opened her mouth and gobbled him up, right down to the hairy nest 
at its base. 

"Oh, honey, what a talented mouth you have." 

"The better to suck you off, my dear." 

Her reply only took a second off her sucking time, and then she went right 
back to it. Trina's lips were soft and wet. They clung just enough to apply 
terrific pressure along the sensitive under veins, but not too much that she 
couldn't slide easily along the smooth pole. 

Trina could easily have made him pop and in very short order, just the way 
she was going, but this was just a sample of what she could do for him. She 
took her mouth off just at the tip of his prick and ran the edge of her 
teeth down along one side until she was at his balls. 

Once there she opened her mouth very wide and plopped the two of them 
between her jaws. Mark began to groan. If she did much more of that he was 
going to shoot all over her ceiling. 

"No more sucking," he pleaded, and she brought her face up to smile 
mischievously at him. 

"Well, some sucking anyway. Like on these, for instance." 

Trina was all smiles as she crawled between Mark's spread knees and then 
right over his body. As she put her mouth to his and stuck her tongue out 
for him to swallow up, Trina lifted her ass in the air and then reached 
under to grasp the shaft of his throbbing dick firmly in her hand. 

Stiff as he was by then, it was very simple for her to hold him upright and 
slowly lower her cunt right down on it. 

"Uhhh, uhhh ... Oh, so big," she gasped. 

His hard cock stretched her cuntal walls wide and she already felt chock 
full, but Trina kept on coming down until their kinky hairs mingled and Mark 
could reach up and grab her by the neck. She pressed her face against his 
hairy chest and lifted her ass up just a little. 

"You're in the driver's seat, lady. Let's see if you can do a man's job." 

"You want it rough and tough, do you? Okay. You asked for it, so hang on to 
your balls." 

An instant later she had her ass so high up in the air that only the tip of 
his cock remained within her. She took a few minutes of simply twirling her 
body around his dick, teasing the both of them until Mark was yanking at her 
hair and she could no longer hold her body aloft. 

When she came down all the way again, she was none too gentle about it. Her 
body was steaming with passion, and she needed it to be hard and fast for 
her sake, not simply to prove that she could do it. 

Trina slammed down hard on the first stroke and for every stroke after that. 
It had her grunting hard and she kept losing track of her thoughts, but she 
never upset her rhythm. 

Mark was mumbling in her ear and she decided that she better do something to 
shut him up. 

"Here. Fill your mouth with these for a while. Your chatter is making me 
miss my stroke." 

Then she laughed and lifted her tit to his lips. His jaws were wide open and 
he filled his cavity with her succulent flesh. Mark hurt her just a little 
by taking little nips, but most of the time he mouthed her wet and she 
licked inside his ear. 

Her stroking picked up steadily. With her knees planted firmly on either 
side of his prone body, Trina did most of the work until Mark began to climb 
toward the peak of his pleasure and could no longer lie as still as she 
wanted him to. 

It was time for Mark to get into the act. He picked up on the tempo of her 
fucking quickly and was matching her stroke for stroke as he dropped the tit 
from his mouth and took her lips to his. Their passion was mindless and 
without foundation. It should never have happened and would probably never 
happen again. 

But for as long as it lasted, both of them were determined to make it the 
fuck of a lifetime. Their humping became so wild and rapid that all bedding 
was tossed to the floor and the springs creaked under their frantic motions. 
Trina felt his cock stabbing so deeply into her that she thought it wise to 
be a little gender to herself or it was going to pop right out of her 
throat, but she couldn't slow herself down no matter how hard she tried. 

Her body was out of control. It was stuffed full of hot cock, and greedy to 
keep it that way. She was already feeling tired, but her ass kept humping up 
and down on ecstatic energy alone. 

They were both sweating heavily and it all collected on Mark's chest. It 
matted down his hair, but neither noticed. 

They were blind to anything but their impending orgasms, which built and 
then exploded rapidly. Trina could feel what was happening with Mark, by the 
hugely bloated condition of his cock and the raspy sound of his breathing. 
Her clit was being constantly massaged by the thickness of his shaft every 
time that she plunged down on it, and bright colors were whirling before her 
closed eyes. 

"Shoot it into me, stud, 'cause here I come!" she announced and proceeded to 
gush all over his groin. 

That was it for Mark. His come pumped up into her like a geyser, and while 
Trina could no longer hump with any effectiveness, her body was still 
gyrating wildly as she continued to flood all over his body. 

Every turn of her hips brought even more stimulation to the already stinging 
walls of her cunt and her clit was aroused almost to the point of pain. She 
let out a shrill scream of savage pleasure and then slumped on top of him in 
a daze. 

Mark's cock still throbbed, but it was slowing down now. He took his dear 
friend in his arms and cradled her head softly against his sweaty chest. His 
head was already clear. He fully realized what they had done, and knew that 
they could never go back to the way their relationship used to be. 

He thought he should be feeling guilty, but instead he was relieved. Trina's 
displayed passion for him had renewed his faith in himself and reaffirmed 
his need for this sort of thing in his homelife. Now he knew for a certainty 
that he had no marriage without it. 

Jean would not change overnight and meanwhile he still had his needs. The 
harm was done with Trina. Mark figured that they couldn't hang a guy twice 
for the same sin, so he might as well enjoy as much of the play as he could 
before he called to task for it. 

Trina had intended to help him with all her heart, but certainly not in 
these ways. If she had a debt to pay to Jean for having used her husband's 
magnificent dick, then Trina felt she could best accomplish this by showing 
her just how grave the danger was to her marriage, and maybe even getting 
her to take a good look at her inner self while she was at it. 

What about Mark? Too late to think about refraining. They had already 
fucked, so maybe it wasn't so bad if they continued to do so until the day 
that Mark reported his marriage was straightened out and it was time to 
return to fidelity. 

"We should still talk, Mark. I love what we did, but I would rather see you 
happy with Jean." 

"You're right. I feel the same way. Please get me another drink and we'll 
see if we can work out some sort of plan." 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Jean woke up several times during the night, only to see that she was still 
in their bed alone. It didn't say anywhere in the pamphlets she was 
constantly reading about what she was supposed to do about finding a fed-up 
husband. 

Now she couldn't think of one argument in her entire new philosophy that 
could keep her from sobbing into her pillow. 

Mark, dear Mark. Don't you know how much I love you? 

What good were tears now, or a promise to herself that she would try to 
temper her intellectual passions and make a little room in her life for some 
of his. He was gone, maybe forever. 

She tossed on a robe and went out on the terrace where she could see the 
driveway and the street beyond. The sky was getting slowly lighter. Dawn was 
just about to break and there was still no sign of him. Was Caroline going 
to keep her company on the next lonely night, and help her warm her chilled 
bones with philosophy when what she needed was her man? 

She had already turned to go back inside when she heard his car pulling up. 
He looked a little the worse for wear, but not drunk, and apparently 
uninjured. Curiously, his shoulders weren't slumped as they usually did when 
he was heavily burdened with worries. His walk was tired, but still just a 
little bit jaunty. 

He saw her standing there and gave her a little wave. Jean wanted to run 
right out the front door and throw herself in his arms, but her pride 
wouldn't let her. She was sure her eyes were red and her face all blotchy 
from all the crying she had been doing. Her lacquered hair felt separated 
like so many broken pieces of a china cup. 

Her heart went to the door to greet her husband, but the rest of her made a 
mad dash for the bathroom before he could get a good look at the mess she 
was in. Quickly she ran a shower for herself, and by the time she was ready 
to face him, Mark had already changed, grabbed a cup of coffee and gone to 
work. 

Jean had the entire day ahead of her to feel sorry for herself, commiserate 
with Caroline, or pull herself together and fight to save what was left of 
her marriage if she possibly could. 

She went into the kitchen and poured a glass of orange juice, but decided 
against a more substantial breakfast because everything in the refrigerator 
turned her stomach. Glancing at the big calendar that she kept up on the 
wall there, Jean noticed that she had a bazaar steering committee meeting 
planned for two that afternoon. Six chattering women would be telling about 
the latest wonderful things that their husbands did and how their tennis 
games were improving. She just couldn't hear any of it today. 

Caroline sensed that something was wrong as soon as she heard the tone of 
Jean's voice. She offered to come over and help plan a new strategy that 
would take Mark's understanding by storm, but Jean wasn't buying and the 
other woman finally gave up. 

Jean paced around the house for a little while, thinking about getting 
dressed and doing a little shopping to perk up her spirits. But when she sat 
down at her dressing table mirror to put her face on, Jean couldn't stand 
the reflection staring back at her. It looked prudish and hateful. 
Impulsively, she picked up a can of hair spray and clouded over the image 
before running out of the room in tears. 

When she went back into the living room with a dust rag, hoping that some 
housework would relax her a little, Jean noticed that the batch of pamphlets 
she usually kept neatly piled in a wicker basket near her favorite chair was 
torn to pieces and scattered all over the room. So much for calm reasoning 
with Mark. 

But was it Mark that she really needed to argue with now? Jean realized that 
she must first settle the inner conflict that had just become apparent to 
her since her husband's going off in the night. Until that point in their 
relationship she had been sure that her way was the only right way. This was 
the time to reconsider. 

If only she hadn't shut herself off almost completely from the world that 
she and Mark used to know. Jean had a hunch that the answers to their 
marital dilemma lay back there, if she could only just reach them. 

This thought brought her back to their college crowd and the innocent way 
they all had with the enjoyment of sex. As far as she knew, but for the 
divorce of Trina and Ronnie, which had to do with his business travels, she 
had been told, the rest of their crowd was still quite happy. Even Trina and 
Ronnie were still the best of friends. Jean didn't want to be the only one 
in the crowd who had to sacrifice her marriage because she had been a total 
failure at it. 

These ideals of hers just didn't seem so important in the light of a day 
where she might have to face the world all alone. She still felt that they 
had merit, but at how high a cost? 

Again she thought of Trina. She had always been so easy to talk to, and they 
had worked out many a difficult problem together. Although neither she nor 
Mark had seen their old friend in some long time, Jean still felt 
comfortable enough to pick up the phone and invite herself over there for 
the afternoon. 

Trina's voice sounded a little odd when she agreed to the meeting, but Jean 
didn't make much of it. She put it off to surprise that Jean would be 
calling her on the spur of the moment and let it go at that. 

Feeling that she might finally be getting some sympathy for the woman's side 
of this argument and possibly even a compromise that Jean could live with, 
she had a much easier time in putting her face together and getting dressed 
for cocktails with Trina. 

She wanted the woman to see what progress she had made with her image, and 
so put on her smartest gray suit with blazer jacket and soft gray shirt, 
tied with a floppy bow in front. Her skirt was a little on the long side, 
but just right for her current image. The total look was of dignity and 
sophistication. 

Jean put on her bravest smile for when Trina opened the door, but her 
lifetime friend saw right through the facade. Trina had been meaning to call 
her ever since Mark left her bed, but this was just as well. It seemed more 
innocent. 

"Why, Jean dear. You look smashing! But you also look very troubled. Come in 
here and tell your best friend all about it." 

Trina circled Jean's waist and hugged her close. She had to sound sincere 
because she was. After a few hours of thinking over what had happened 
between she and Mark, Trina still knew that in the long run she wanted to 
see their marriage saved. If there were any more fuck sessions with Mark in 
the meantime, she would take them in her stride. 

No sooner did they get to the sofa than Jean broke down into a torrent of 
tears. She covered her face in shame, but Trina took her hands away and 
hugged the pretty head to her breasts. Then she let her friend cry it out 
until her breathing sounded a little better and Trina thought that she might 
be able to speak coherently. 

"You go ahead and lay it all on me, dear. I'm here to help, no matter what 
it is." 

Jean wanted to put on a brave front and show her uninhibited friend her new 
conservative veneer, but her problems lay too heavily on her heart and she 
poured out the whole truth of it. Her closing lines told of Jean's last 
attempt to seduce her husband into submission and his running off into the 
night. 

Then she attempted to explain how sincere she was in her conservative 
philosophy, but admitted to ambivalent feelings and confusion about it all 
now. 

"I'm glad you got it all out of your system. You don't want to lose Mark, do 
you?" Trina asked. 

"No. I love him just as much as I ever did." 

"You know, you could just be employing the wrong methods. He might be 
willing to go along with some of your stuff if you gave him a little more of 
what he wanted. Just look at you now. I have to admit that it looks stunning 
to a woman, but where did the sexy chick go who gave all the guys hard-ons 
in school?" 

"I think blatant sexuality is vulgar. Why should I have to go around looking 
like a whore?" 

"There's a lot of distance between looking sharp and looking like a whore, 
Jean. You calm down and trust me on this. I think we can work something 
out." 

Jean looked into her friend's eyes and saw the sympathy that she had been 
needing for the past several hours. Starting to cry again, but not as 
hysterically, Jean pressed her face between her friend's big tits and threw 
her arms around her with gratitude. 

Trina felt a strange tingle of pleasure shoot through her chest, and 
realized it was due to more than sisterly affection. She could tell from the 
way Jean's body softened against hers that she must be feeling something 
like it herself. Trina had never made it with a woman, but that didn't stop 
her from seeing the sexual side of their touch now. 

But this was no time to think about her own pleasure. Her dearest friend had 
come to her for help, and help she must give. 

"Let's have a drink and see what we can do to work out something in your 
image that you and Mark could both live with. Maybe you could hang onto your 
philosophy that way and his manhood won't be threatened if you're more of a 
wife in other ways. How does that sound to you?" 

"There might be something to it, but I'm still not sure that I want to 
compromise." 

"Think about it a bit and I'll be right back." 

Trina had more than the drinks as reason to get away from Jean for a couple 
of minutes. She had felt an urge to reach for her friend's breasts just 
then, and didn't like it. Certainly Jean did need to loosen up sexually, but 
that didn't have to mean with another woman, did it? 

She brought back two very dry martinis and set them down on the coffee 
table. Jean pushed her glass away. She wasn't in the mood for getting high. 
What she wanted was answers. 

"Drink it down. It'll help," Trina urged. 

Jean shrugged her shoulders and did as she was told. She didn't have the 
moral strength to argue about anything. So she picked up the glass and 
gulped down the entire contents without blinking, as if she were tasting 
bitter medicine. Instantly a warm flow of relaxation swept through her body 
and she leaned back against the sofa. Trina sipped hers more slowly, but 
leaned back next to her friend. 

She felt her body throbbing where it touched Jean's, and when she pressed 
her legs together and extended them on the surface of the coffee table, she 
could feel how warm and swollen her pussy was getting. Under the guise of 
friendly affection, she rubbed her side against Jean's. They had been 
friends since childhood. Jean would never think anything of it. Especially 
now with her head into such intellectual things. 

"Jean, can we talk straight today? There's really not much I can do for you 
unless we do." 

"That's why I'm here, Trina. Say anything you feel. I can take it." 

"All right, then. I feel that you're getting too uptight about sex. Those 
women can preach all they want about saving the world and I don't really see 
any harm in devoting some of your time to charity, but I do think you're 
cheating yourself and Mark out of some beautiful experiences by trying to 
cut sex out of your life." 

"Maybe I'm just getting too old for that kind of stuff. I'm getting lines in 
my face. My body is sagging." 

"You have to be kidding! You're just as gorgeous as ever. You just can't see 
it under that phony pushed-up hairdo and those banker's clothes. When was 
the last time you had a really good look at yourself?" 

Jean thought back to the night before and her black caftan. Mark had found 
her a knock-out in it, but she had thought the sexy look was phony. Now 
Trina had her head all turned around in confusion. 

"You really think I should change the way I look?" she asked dumbly because 
the martini had her high. 

"If you want to hang on to your husband. Stand up and walk around a little 
for me. I want to check you out." 

Jean felt silly, but she did get up on her feet and do a few turns around 
the area. Trina looked over every inch of her, and again felt the curious 
warmth between her legs that she desperately wished would go away.-Luckily, 
Jean seemed unaware of anything unusual coming down and came to stand just 
before her. 

"So what needs work?" Jean asked. 

"To begin with, you have big, beautiful titties, love. But you really don't 
need to wear that bra." 

"Oh, I can't flop around the way those young girls do. I'd look ugly." 

"Why don't we just see about that? Take off your jacket and blouse." 

"What?" 

"Go ahead. Don't tell me you're shy in front of me. We used to skinny dip 
together. Remember?" 

"We didn't have any tits in those days." 

"Oh, go on!" 

Reluctantly Jean took off her outer garments and stood with her hands 
hanging uselessly at her sides while Trina unhooked her white satin demi-bra 
from behind. The breasts fell free then, and Jean shuddered in the cool 
breeze wafting in from an open window. Her nipples stiffened and Trina's 
eyes became glazed as she watched it happening. 

This sexy feeling for her best friend had to stop before something awful 
happened. But there was just one thing that Trina could not resist trying. 

"You don't sag at all." 

"I do so, Trina." 

"I don't believe it. Just let me see for myself." 

That was all the excuse Trina needed. She stood up and went to meet her 
friend in the center of the floor. Looking her straight in the eye so that 
Jean wouldn't think there was anything amiss, Trina put out both her palms 
and grasped a tit in each one. 

She felt Jean shake and saw the startled look in her eyes, then the fear 
right after it. That settled the question of whether Trina would even 
consider trying anything more along those lines. Jean was cold as ice, and 
what fun would that be? 

But she wasn't going to give up on loosening Jean's inhibitions, for Mark's 
sake. She had to try and reach her in any way she could. 

So, after suggesting that Jean dress again, they began to talk about 
different kinds of sex and Jean was forced to admit that blowjobs and eating 
cunt really weren't all that bad although she had come to see these acts as 
being unsanitary. 

The subject of anal intercourse met a great deal more resistance in Jean. 
She maintained that only sick, perverted women allowed such an act, unless 
of course they were so masochistic that pain was something they relished. No 
matter what Trina said to her about it, Jean refused to budge. And when she 
finally challenged her friend by asking if she would permit a man to do such 
a vile thing to her, Trina was so angry that she refused to answer. 

Jean went home resolved that she would try to be a bit more sensuous around 
the house with Mark but believing that Trina would no more allow a cock up 
her ass than she would herself. She still suffered from a great deal of 
confusion, but Jean was determined to try and tread a little more softly on 
her philosophy and give a bit more on sexuality. 

She only hoped that this would be enough and not too late. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

There was still time that night to prepare something a little special for 
her husband and hope she would do better at it than she had done the night 
before. Once again Jean sorted through the things in her closet for 
something that was suitably attractive but not too much of a compromise for 
her principles. 

She finally selected a sleek red pants outfit with a halter top and after 
checking her chest out in the full length mirror, decided that Trina might 
have something in her going braless. She didn't feel right walking around 
with her breasts jiggling all over the place, but if it enticed Mark 
sufficiently to stay home with her that night, then she supposed it was 
worth her effort. 

This night she resolved to keep the conversation on a non-argumentative 
level, and be as charming as possible. She would even go so far as to seduce 
her own husband and give him as close to the kind of sex she used to as she 
could manage. 

But she soon found out that she had wasted all that preparation time. Mark 
no sooner walked in the door than he went straight upstairs for a shower, 
shave and a change of clothes. He didn't even bother with dinner and had 
very little to say to her at all. She was not to wait up for him and he 
would grab a bite outside. 

He was on his way back to Trina's. It had been a snap decision made on the 
way home, but one that he was not entirely sure of until he came home and 
saw Jean all made up to deliver him another con job. He was not being put 
through that wringer again. Good as the fuck might be, he could get those 
kicks at Trina's with no gospel as a chaser. 

Mark didn't phone ahead this time either, but not for the same reason as 
before. He didn't want the woman to have a chance to refuse him. The first 
time had been a spur of the moment thing, but now Mark's plans were 
deliberate. Although Jean might never find out about it, he was going to 
teach her a lesson by giving all the passion she wanted to quench to the 
body of her best friend. It was about the only way that he could work out 
his anger without real violence against his wife. 

He wasn't going to avoid Jean completely. This night was going to have a 
show-down finish, but it would just have to be later on. What he needed 
first was a good fuck session to bolster his courage and get him in a good 
mood. Otherwise Mark was afraid that he was going to pack his bags and 
inform Jean that the next time he left the house it was going to be for 
good. 

Trina didn't seem as surprised to see him standing in her doorway as he 
thought she would be. 

"If I didn't know better I would say that you people were working this place 
on staggered shifts." 

"Was Jean here?" 

"She came to me for advice on how to win you over to her side. I don't mind 
telling you it was pretty hairy for a while." 

"Does she think I've, been here?" 

"Not at all." 

"Good. I'm staying." 

"Don't I get any choice in this?" 

"Yeah. Whether you want to get fucked front or back, and if you want it 
right where you stand or in the bedroom if you can run fast enough." 

"You think you're a hot stud, don't you?" 

"I am." 

"Okay, hot stud. See if you can match me. First one down to the buff gets to 
pick the fuck." 

Trina was stripping down even as she was speaking. Sweater, black lace bra, 
then jeans and panties all went flying over the floor. Mark was pretty fast 
himself, but not fast enough. She was standing before him naked, her big 
tits heaving and her hands on her hips like the conquering hero before he 
even managed to get his shorts down over his huge hard-on. 

"I win, stud," she giggled. "Catch me if you can." 

Trina made a flying leap for Mark with her arms open wide and then her legs 
as she jumped up in the air and into Mark's arms. He caught her under her 
armpits just in time to feel her hips come crashing down against his belly, 
and with a little bit of skillful wiggling on her part, the tip of his cock 
was immediately wedged between her pouting pussylips. 

Trina came down on him with a hard grunt, and the shock of feeling her wet 
cunt closing in on his upstanding hard dick so threw him that Mark almost 
fell backwards toppling the two of them to the floor. But, by some 
superhuman feat of strength, he did manage to remain upright, and brought 
his arms to circle her waist and support her in that way while he walked the 
two of them to the bedroom. 

This was not as easy as it would have seemed to him without the tantalizing 
burden that he was carrying. Trina wasn't helping much. She was gently 
humping up and down on his throbbing prick all the way in there, and every 
few feet he really felt like stopping and fucking right where they happened 
to be. Getting to that bed at all without shooting right up into her belly 
turned out to be a major achievement. 

He was hoping to get her to lie down on her back so that he could fuck her 
in the conventional way once they did get there. But Trina was in an 
extremely playful mood. She refused to climb off his pole now that she had 
it all the way into her, and Mark had to settle for sitting himself down in 
a velvet chair with her so sexily perched on his lap. 

"Looks like I get to do all the work again," Trina laughed. 

"Nobody told you to jump on like this thing was a pogo stick. You got 
yourself stuck on it, now you pay the price," Mark answered. 

Trina showed that she didn't mind doing all the work in the least. Happily 
she hopped up and down on his raging boner while Mark threw his head back 
against the chair and tried to control himself. If she kept on going as she 
was he was going to come much too soon. Trina had that kind of effect on 
him. But he noticed a fashion magazine near him on a table and reached for 
that, knowing that he had found an aid to his problem. 

She stopped bouncing for just a moment to see what he was doing, and laughed 
uproariously when she figured it out. Mark was hoping to concentrate on 
something dull and keep from shooting no matter what she did to him. It 
might have worked with another girl. But Trina was determined to get him off 
with such a roaring blast that he would never forget it. She did not take 
the magazine away, but started bouncing harder, and when her ass was down on 
his lap she screwed it around in a complete circle. 

Mark honestly tried to read the magazine, but she was just too much woman 
for his concentration. Jean might have gone on for hours like this, provided 
she didn't find the position undignified, of course, and all Mark would have 
to do is picture her at a meeting with her stuffed shirt friends. That would 
be enough to cool him off quite a bit. 

But Jean could have been in another country for all he cared right then. He 
let Trina fuck him along for a little longer, until he felt her thoroughly 
wet his lap a couple of times, and then tossed the magazine over his head. 
It was time to show her who was the boss! 

Mark grabbed her firmly by the hips and started humping up at her so 
furiously that she finally lost all control of her stroking. All she could 
do now was lay her head on his shoulder and throw her arms around his neck. 
Mark had the power now and he knew just what to do with it. Besides his own 
upward humping, he also grasped her by the hips and forced her to move up 
and down with him. Her body was all liquid fire and she moved easily with 
him, thrilling him to his very marrow with just the right mixture of lust 
and soft femininity. Knowing that he was being the man again, fucking a 
woman to their mutual delight and seeing the hot appreciation in her eyes 
had him feeling on top of the world. It gave him strength to keep on fucking 
a little longer, but his body chemistry gave way before his will, and he 
shot in spite of all his best intentions. 

Trina shook and shuddered to the tune of his cock so deeply embedded in her 
and spraying around the inside of her cunt like a fucking fire hose. She 
took a deep bite out of his neck and never thought that the way she was 
doing it would leave a telltale red mark as well as the impression of her 
teeth. 

By the time the fuck was over, and Trina had a look at it, it was much too 
late to do anything about it. Mark rubbed at his neck, but Trina rushed him 
out of the house so fast that he didn't have a chance to look in the mirror. 

He had other things on his mind anyway. Like the fact that he was going home 
feeling determined to straighten Jean out in the only way that really 
counted. Instead of feeling fatigued as he usually did after a struggling 
fuck with Jean, Mark was leaving Trina's apartment feeling refreshed and 
optimistic about what he was going home to face. 

His mind was so filled with all the ways that he would straighten Jean out 
and rejuvenate her sexual spirits that he no longer felt the bite on his 
neck or even thought about it being there. His walk was proud and spirited, 
his smile genuine when he walked into the house and went upstairs to wake 
her up. Everything was finally going to be all right. 

Jean wasn't asleep when he got into the bedroom. She had been lying awake 
staring at the ceiling during those hours, but closed her eyes as soon as 
she heard his key in the front door. For once she wasn't crying and had some 
make-up on her face. 

She wasn't going to be arrogant this time, or even try to preach her 
philosophy to him. Provided that Jean could get Mark to listen at all, she 
was going to tell him from her heart how badly she felt for what she was 
putting him through, and actually beg him to find some way that the two of 
them could continue to live together. 

It never entered her mind for a single moment that he would be coming into 
the room in the mood to fuck. But she turned the bed lamp on and saw him 
stripping on his way into the room. Once he was naked, his cock was hard and 
ready, with no doubt about it. 

In passing she did notice the mark on his neck, and knew from her own past 
experience that there was only one way he could have gotten something like 
that. Mark had been with another woman! She would have started screaming and 
throwing things right then, but his raging hard-on and the way that he was 
staring at her supple body in the sheer pink nightgown with the covers 
thrown confused her. 

If he had spent the time away from home screwing around, then why had he 
come home horny? She had to be wrong about the mark on his neck. A closer 
inspection by the morning light would reveal a satisfactory explanation. 
What mattered right then was getting close to her husband again in the way 
that meant the most to him. 

Mark was not really expecting any cooperation from her, but he wasn't 
concerned. Even if he had to rape his own wife, this was one night when she 
would fall asleep respecting him and what he stood for. 

"You see this prick, Jean?" he growled at her. "Yes, dear. I see it." 

"Well good. Because I want you to get a good look at it. It makes me a man. 
Someone you can't live without. Admit it, you damn bitch!" 

Jean resented the arrogance in his voice, and should have told him to go to 
hell instead of what he wanted to hear. But she had never seen him stronger 
or more sure of himself, and he was right. No matter what her principles 
dictated, Jean had to respect this man. 

"I am waiting for an answer." 

"Yes, Mark. I do need you. And I need your cock." 

"Now you're talking, bitch. Come here and prove it." 

She climbed out of bed as if some immortal Greek God had just summoned her 
and walked over to him, then stood before him with her head bowed humbly 
low. Mark lifted her face with his finger under her chin and kissed her 
cruelly on her mouth. 

Then he pressed down on her shoulders, pushing her roughly to her knees. She 
didn't fight him, but once down, did nothing on her own, knowing that she 
had no will now. She was his to command. 

"Is this cock beautiful?" Mark demanded to know. 

"Yes, it is." 

"Then worship it, woman." 

Jean understood exactly what her husband wanted and she obeyed without 
question. As she settled down on her legs and moved her mouth up closely to 
his raging cock, Jean thought for one more second about the mark on his neck 
and resolved that the next night he left the house without explanation, she 
was going to follow him and find out if there was any truth to her 
suspicions. 

She was repulsed for one awful second when imagining that she was about to 
put her freshly rinsed mouth on a cock that may have just been inside 
another woman's body. But she had nothing but the one clue, and Mark still 
smelled like his old fresh self. Clean and pure, deliciously appetizing as 
he had been when they were young. 

Suspicions be damned. For now she would have to act on faith. Opening her 
mouth wide, Jean started working her lips back along his shaft until her 
nose was being tickled by his pubic nest, and the hot, clean taste of cock 
meat was filling her senses. This blowjob was what counted now, and this man 
was her master! 

She performed a few tiny strokes with her lips, out of some perverse need to 
at least appear dainty if she could not appear dignified. But Mark was in no 
mood for anything half-hearted. It was imperative that she renew her respect 
for the all-mighty male organ, or there wouldn't be much reason to even 
attempt to save the marriage. 

"Suck like you mean it, bitch!" he ordered. 

Jean pulled her head back off the dick and looked up at her husband in 
dismay. He wasn't behaving like a gentleman at all, and here she had been 
willing to make some effort without all this yelling. It seemed that no 
matter how much she tried on her own these days, it just wasn't enough for 
him. 

She had been willing to attempt meeting him on an equal level, but obviously 
this was not what he wanted. The very position she was presently in 
symbolized his demands, and now Jean knew that if she did not comply with 
them there was no point in trying to talk later on. Mark wanted absolute 
submission and would settle for nothing less. She began to cry then, 
powerless to retain even a small shred of her former dignity and desperate 
to hang on to her marriage. 

She looked up at the reddened organ that was waving before her face and was 
nearly hypnotized by it. In the soft glow of the nightlight the thing looked 
iridescent with its mahogany knob and crimson shaft glowing with the 
purplish tones of the veins that ran all through it. 

From this close up, Mark's cock looked bigger than ever, and she began to 
understand for the first time in her life why men seemed inordinately proud 
to have been born with these magical masts instead of cunts. A cunt couldn't 
grow and shrink, stand up and do tricks, and it couldn't delight a woman as 
she really needed to be. 

Her eyes traveled along the length of it until it ended at the kinky base 
which covered the heavy sacs containing his bloated nuts. They looked so big 
tonight. Didn't he feel weighted down by them, she wondered. 

Mark looked so powerful, standing there and glowering at her, his hands on 
his hips and his legs planted in a mighty stance. His cock looked too huge 
for her to take on, and she feared that if she did, he might actually fuck 
her head off with it. Mark was in a very strange mood this night, and he 
frightened her. 

"I love you, Mark," she pleaded. "Please believe me. If we could only talk 
things over." 

"This is not time for talk. This cock of mine is the boss, and it wants to 
be sucked. Open your mouth and get busy, or it's the last time you'll ever 
have to turn it down." 

She couldn't procrastinate any longer. Indeed, she did not want to. Her lips 
were trembling, but she parted them and bent her face forward, immediately 
making contact with the crimson tip. It was dripping by then, and she felt 
the first few drops of it rolling back along her tongue and down her throat. 
The male fluid soothed the parched feeling that she had down there. 
Everything was going to be all right. 

Again she attempted to take the gentle approach with this effort, but Mark 
was out of patience. He grabbed the base of his cock firmly in his hand, 
then held Jean's head rigid with his other hand so that he could shove his 
entire cock down her throat before she could back away from it. 

The gesture had taken her by surprise. Jean certainly knew better than to 
leave her teeth exposed, but there had been no time to cover them with the 
inside of her lips. The pain to Mark's sensitive flesh was sharp and 
certain. She heard his whistle and felt his grip tighten on her head. For a 
flash of terrified reason,-she believed that he might snap her neck. 

But he did nothing. She had covered her teeth almost immediately, and now 
the tight grip of those lips against his aching hot dick more than made up 
for the momentary pain that he had suffered. She wasn't fighting him, so he 
decided to forgive her for her little transgression. 

He didn't have to say so. Jean knew and she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. 
Mark did not have to warn her about anything now. There was no doubt that a 
great deal was at stake in this one blowjob. 

He didn't pull back very much on his cock, but there was enough distance for 
him to slam painfully between her jaws, so deeply that his balls bounced 
against her chin now. She smelled his heated scent and knew that he had 
really been the master all along. No matter how she claimed that she didn't 
want sex with him, and refused it, she was actually the one being punished 
as she had to do without this pleasure. 

She began to cry hard. They were tears of remorse, but Mark took them to 
mean that she didn't wish to cooperate. He was determined that this would be 
the last lesson in feminine duty that he would ever have to teach her, and 
so began to screw his raging cock in and out of her mouth at the pace that 
he normally used in a lower hole. 

The force of the strokes was so strong that she often rocked back on her 
heels. But Jean never lost her balance. She brought her hands to the backs 
of his thighs and dug her fingers into the muscled flesh so that she could 
at least do something to contribute to his efforts, by hanging in there if 
nothing else. 

Jean really wanted to do the job herself, but Mark was blind with his fury, 
and convinced that she would not cooperate on her own. Much as she tried to 
soften the oval of her lips a bit and employ the use of her tongue as he 
usually liked to have her do, Mark was moving along much too fast for her. 
This was no real blowjob. Her husband was simply fucking her face, and by 
rights she should have been indignant. 

But she took this to be a punishment that she had earned by turning a cold 
shoulder to the needs of the man that she had pledged her life to. No matter 
how much she hated what he was doing to her now, she knew that she deserved 
this much and worse. 

Totally submissive now, Jean forced the muscles in her neck and mouth to 
relax a little so that Mark would find an easier passage for himself. As 
soon as Mark noticed that his wife had decided to cooperate with him, he let 
go of her head, and she was now free to move at will. 

Jean started working with him as soon as she was able. Her head bobbed back 
and forth easily now, and when Mark felt her willing motion, he slowed down 
a little himself so that they could work in unison and Jean was also able to 
use her tongue on him. She was determined to please him in every way that 
she could, and during the rest of this session, Mark actually believed that 
this would be the turning point in their sexual relationship. 

The fuck of the night before had been sort of all right, but this was a 
little better. She had come around to his way on her own, or so it seemed. 
This was beginning to feel like the blowjobs she used to give him when they 
were young. Could be there would be no need for threats and further sessions 
with Trina. 

Mark was dead wrong, but he wouldn't have been able to tell by what was 
happening just then. Jean was working like an old master, her tongue 
slithering along the shaft of his cock and all around it like a hungry snake 
looking for its dinner and spitting as it went. Her jaws continually opened 
and closed just as the clasping walls of her cunt would, and she had taken 
his balls into her hand so that she could stir around the fluids in there as 
well. 

Now it was Mark who had to hang on in order to keep his balance. He stopped 
working so hard at it himself and let her take him the rest of the way on 
her own. Jean brought up her other hand so that she could masturbate the 
root of his dick while her mouth and other hand completed the effort. For 
those last few moments, Mark forgot all about power. He was senseless with 
pleasure, and mumbling almost to himself. 

"Ohhh, babbby. OHhhhh," she heard buzzing in her ears. 

This then was the old Mark. Her good sense came back to her and she actually 
thought that he would be feeling so wonderful once he came that she would 
once again be the one in command. That she had tried this and failed the 
night before didn't enter her mind. This time she was working hard. This 
time she would succeed. 

"Now, baby, now," he grunted. 

His moment was near. Jean redoubled her efforts. This last phase of the 
blowjob was her last chance to make it such an outstanding one that Mark 
would be in his most receptive mood. She had given up her sense of dignity, 
submitted to his wishes, and now that she was once again able to exercise 
some control over what was happening, Jean began to feel that she was 
entitled to some giving on his part once the session was over. Her tongue 
worked frantically, darting and washing while her mouth and jaws opened and 
closed like a mechanical sucking machine. Her fingers pressed along the 
sensitive under-vein and she pushed upwards towards the tip of his cock, as 
if urging the come to start flowing there. 

She worked on his balls as well, and now the wind was whistling through his 
clenched teeth as he fought to hang on for a few more seconds, but could not 
succeed. By then her mouth was working so rapidly up and down along his cock 
that she had no room for her free hand at the base of this, and used it 
instead to dig into his muscular thighs. She soon had to do the same with 
the other hand as he was humping frantically back and forth, and she had to 
hold him in a semi-rigid position just so that she could keep on going as 
she was. 

"Oh, honey, just beautiful," he moaned. "Gonna fill your mouth with come. 
Drink it all up, honey. Every fucking drop." 

Yes, she wanted all that come. She was thirsty for it now. Greedy for it and 
demanding that she have it immediately. Her jaws were already aching and she 
could feel her teeth cutting into the flesh of her inner lip, but she 
refused to slow down on the motions even for a split second. Her tongue 
could feel the come coursing along his thick under vein, and it was going to 
start pumping at any second. 

She wanted him to come quickly now, but not because she was anxious for the 
act to be over and done. This was the way that she was hoping to pay her 
penance for having neglected him so cruelly in the recent past. To have his 
orgasm in her mouth would be her reward. 

She even used the tip of her tongue to scoop out whatever fluids it could 
find from his pisshole, and Mark's body shuddered at this fabulous 
sensation. What started out as just a few drops was now a steady stream, and 
judging from the way that his belly was twitching and his hands digging hard 
into her shoulders, Jean knew that the heavy load could not be far behind. 
He was moaning constantly now and when she looked up to his face every few 
seconds, Jean could see his eyes closed in ecstasy. 

Mark was swaying to the tune of her constantly moving mouth and shuddering 
with intense pleasure every time that he felt his cockshaft rubbing along 
the ridges of her mouth and throat. He wanted to prolong the act because he 
felt it was doing her good to work so hard and so humbly, and he had to 
admit that it was making him feel terrific as well. But Mark was tired from 
the session with Trina and his wife was really doing a terrific job now. It 
made him feel that he had every right to think he had power over her and 
because of this he could act a little more charitable toward her. 

So he patted her gently on the top of her head, and began to speak in 
soothing tones. 

"Just like that, baby. It's soooo goooddd!" 

The change in the tone of his voice and the way that he was caressing her 
head and ears now made Jean feel that her reward was imminent. She would get 
him off and all would be well. Already he was beginning to sound like they 
could work everything out. Yes, this was going to be a very special night 
for the both of them. 

"Bitch, beautiful bitch." 

Nothing he was saying made much sense, but she didn't care. The movements in 
his body were close to convulsions and he simply could not hold out any 
longer. 

"Gonna come, baby. Suck it all. Don't miss a drop!" 

Jean made sure that she could do just that. She pressed her lips down hard 
against the cock and started pumping the come out in this way. Until that 
moment, her own body had been rather calm in spite of her heightened 
emotions, but now her own passions broke forth and her cunt, in a scarce 
matter of seconds not only swelled but began to pour a heavy flow of come 
all over the carpet. 

The sensation of intense pleasure did not decrease with her orgasm, though. 
In fact, she had to drop one of her hands between her own legs in order to 
finger her clit in her desperate attempt to seek the total release that was 
still escaping her. 

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming!!!!" Mark screamed, and that was what put Jean 
over the top. 

The first hot wave of come hitting against the roof of her mouth was like a 
thunderbolt to her system. No sooner did she swallow the first of it than 
Jean began to come herself. The orgasm felt so wonderful that she wanted to 
let herself fall back to the floor and simply enjoy it. But Mark's cock was 
still pumping one hot wave after another down her throat, and instinct told 
her that this was the worst possible moment to let his hard thing drop out 
of her mouth. 

She hung on to his thighs for dear life while her own body trembled and his 
shook against the front of her. This was the next best thing to a mutual 
orgasm in her cunt, she supposed, and it should please Mark enough to at 
least listen to what she had to say on the subject which he usually avoided. 

Her orgasm was over a little before his, and thinking of what a good girl 
she was being, Jean waited patiently with his cock still throbbing in her 
mouth while Mark slowly regained his senses. 

Not until his cock had dropped out of her mouth and he was wiping it dry on 
his Jockey shorts did Jean even risk speaking about anything. He looked a 
little grim, but she didn't take much notice. Her mind was already full of 
philosophy and the belief that he would be easy to handle now that his lust 
had been satisfied. 

"Listen, honey," she began. "I've been thinking about a compromise." 

"Oh, just what did you have in mind?" 

"Well, I might just submit to this kind of treatment a couple of times a 
week if you would open your mind a little to the light of social good that 
I've been trying to teach you." 

"Submit? Teach? and Social good? You never will understand what I'm all 
about, will you?" 

"Mark! What did I say that was so wrong? I was only trying to work things 
out between us." 

"That will never happen while your head is still stuffed with all that 
conservative cotton. It's getting so I can't even stand being around you, 
Jean. You just took all the joy out of that fuck. It's not worth shit 
anymore. I'm getting the hell out of here." 

"Where are you going, Mark? It's late. You have to be at work at 8:30 in the 
morning." 

"It's none of your fucking business. Why don't you go back to bed and play 
with yourself? That's about all you're good for." 

"Then who cares where you go? Get out of the house. I don't care if you 
never come back!" 

"It could be that I never will," Mark retorted as he was dressing. 

He knew exactly where he was heading now. Right back to Trina's, and if she 
would have him, he would stay there and fuck her to his heart's content 
until he could find something else for himself. The clothes and junk he 
could always send for later, he supposed. He certainly was not going to have 
another show-down with Jean. 

Jean waited upstairs in the bedroom until she heard him in the garage. By 
then she had gotten fully dressed, so it was no time at all for her to sneak 
out the door and hide by the bushes until he pulled his car out of the 
drive. She would have to risk his getting too far ahead of her to be 
followed in order for him not to hear her starting up her own car, but at 
such a late hour of the night, Jean felt she might be able to catch up with 
him after making a couple of turns. 

It was her guess that he would drive over to the house of one of their 
friends. Ronnie, Trina, and the Martinsons all lived within a couple of 
blocks of each other in Jean and Mark's old neighborhood. That was probably 
where he would head. 

He just wanted to talk it out with their friends, and if she went there as 
well, it would be an excellent time for them to air everything, Jean 
decided. Get it all out in the open with their friends as referees. Probably 
that was all he was going to do. . 

But what about the bite on his neck? Jean was scared, but she had a hunch 
that she was going to be learning an awful lot about her husband before she 
saw sunlight again. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

Jean's flesh stood out in goose bumps although it was a relatively warm 
night. She kept telling herself that the bite was nothing, an insect bite, 
or her imagination. Their marriage wasn't in as serious danger as she 
thought it was. Mark really wasn't all that angry. 

Then why was her heart beating so painfully, and her stomach muscles tied up 
in knots? Mark could just as easily be going back to the bed of another 
woman as he could to the home of one of their friends. Or both! 

The thought suddenly came to her. Trina, gorgeous, hot-blooded, uninhibited 
Trina who had warned Jean that if she didn't spice herself up she was going 
to lose her husband. Her woman's instinct told her that she might be on the 
right track, but Jean kept telling herself that this couldn't possibly be 
true until she saw Mark's car turn onto the right block and then park in 
front of her building. 

It wouldn't be enough just to rush up to him and confront him with a 
question. He could simply answer that he was going up to her house to talk. 
After all, she was a dear friend to both of them, or at least she was 
supposed to be. 

Jean felt awful for being suspicious of her husband and her best friend, but 
she couldn't help herself. Too many little pieces which didn't make any 
sense by themselves, all began to add up as she watched her husband walk 
into Trina's building. Jean followed a distance away and watched him make 
his way easily past the doorman. Trina must have been ready and waiting for 
him. But how was she going to get upstairs without being announced? She was 
sure that Trina would not refuse her entry, but if they were expecting her 
in the apartment, there certainly wouldn't be anything going on. Jean would 
get no answers that way. 

Quickly she devised a plan to tell the doorman that she was Trina's sister, 
in for a surprise visit. A few dollars would convince him if nothing else 
did. 

Her mouth was very dry, but she somehow spoke convincingly and was in the 
elevator before she realized that she had actually gotten away with it. Just 
how she would find anything out by standing in the hall, where she could 
easily get caught snooping before she caught them fucking, Jean didn't 
really know. But she had to carry on with her plan or know no peace. 

When the elevator doors opened on Trina's floor, Jean looked carefully in 
both directions of the hall before she dared to step out. It was very late 
at night, so she really didn't have to worry about too many people being 
around. This might give her an opportunity to listen outside Trina's door 
and at least hear if they were talking about her, or talking at all. Silence 
could be dangerous in this instance. 

She never expected to find her door ajar. Jean almost fainted with fear now. 
If she got a little too close, they could see her there, and since they 
probably wouldn't be doing anything dirty with the door open, Jean would 
look like a fool. She crept along the wall like a cat burglar, hiding in the 
shadows and then leaning her head against the crack of the door to see if 
she could hear anything at all. 

The voices were soft and murmured, and going by her knowledge of the 
apartment, Jean guessed that they were probably in the bedroom. Now she was 
really terrified. They couldn't possibly have any reason to be in the 
bedroom if all they were doing was talking over the problems in Mark's and 
Jean's marriage. 

They could be in the bedroom for only one thing, and Mark certainly hadn't 
wasted any time in getting there, which to Jean had to mean that this was no 
debut performance. She had to see what they were doing. She just had to! 

All the lights in the house were turned off and Jean saw that she wouldn't 
have much trouble sneaking into the living room undetected. She decided that 
Mark's lust for her best friend must have been awfully strong, in spite of 
his recent session with his own wife. He had left a trail of clothes all the 
way through the apartment. 

Actually, she already had the answer she was afraid to look for, and should 
have gone home with the least amount of pain. It was morbid to seek any 
further evidence. Yet in spite of her own good sense, Jean felt compelled to 
sneak into the hallway near the bedroom and try to catch a glimpse of what 
was going on in there. 

Still she could have turned and sneaked out of there before either of them 
knew they had been observed, but Jean kept right on sneaking towards the 
bedroom instead. By the time she got to the edge of the doorway their voices 
were even softer, punctuated by laughter and some giggling. They were 
certainly having a great time for themselves while Jean was worrying about 
the way her marriage was going down the drain. 

She expected to see them involved in some sort of sexual play, but what she 
actually did see almost blew her mind! For a few seconds Jean shook her head 
in disbelief and tried to turn away from what she thought was a vulgar 
sight, but she just had to look again, no matter how much she hated it. 

The second look was even worse. At first all she had seen was the two of 
them naked in the bed and tumbling over one another while they grabbed 
whatever bits of tantalizing anatomy that they could. But now it looked like 
they were getting down to some pretty serious business. 

For a while there she couldn't tell just which particular sexual variation 
they might be working towards, but it soon became clear to her, and she 
covered her mouth with her hand to keep from screaming out in horror. 

Mark was urging Trina to get down on all fours, and she seemed quite happy 
to oblige him. Jean considered this to be about the most humiliating 
position a woman could get into for the sake of a man's pleasure. 

Seeing her down there like a lowly animal was disgusting enough, but Jean 
still thought that Mark was going to fuck her cunt from back there, just as 
animals in heat would do. She felt nervous spasms in her stomach and her 
face was covered with sweat. This was her husband and her very best friend, 
behaving like a pair of rutting animals. 

Trina certainly wasn't behaving as if she felt humiliated and this puzzled 
Jean. She knew the woman for so many years and it had always been said that 
Trina never took shit from anyone. She was so strong and self-confident. Men 
always respected her. 

And there she was, crouching like a dog! Well, at least Mark wasn't 
demeaning himself. Certainly he was base and immoral to be in that bed with 
a hard-on about to fuck, a woman who was not his wife, but Jean supposed 
that his role in the act was more conventional than Trina's. 

But she blinked twice and then felt like she was going to scream when she 
saw what her own husband did next. Not only did he crouch down behind Trina, 
but he put his face up against her ass and began to lick and kiss all over 
the cheeks. 

Jean's heart fell to the pit of her stomach. Her husband was relishing the 
taste of Trina's ass so much that he was actually slobbering all over 
himself. 

His hand was on his cock and he was fisting it rapidly. She could hear his 
moans of pleasure through his full mouth. Mark was going insane on this 
perverse behavior and there was no way she could deny this fact to herself. 
His tongue was taking long swipes along the crack of her ass now and Jean's 
heart dropped down to her stomach when she realized where his tongue might 
go next. 

She had a few more moments of anxious anticipation while his tongue worked 
all the way down her crack to settle against a clit swollen so large that 
Jean could even see it from where she stood. This he nibbled juicily on for 
a little while, and even took a moment here and there to lick inside her 
slit and gobble up all the juices that he found there. 

Jean couldn't bear to watch this go on, but she couldn't turn away either. 
Funny things were happening to her own body, and this only added to her 
confusion. How could it be that while she was watching a depraved act being 
performed by two traitors that her own pussy should be getting damp and 
itchy? 

She didn't have to understand it to know that the sensation was making her 
uncomfortable and that she had to do something about it. At first Jean 
thought she would just put her hand inside her panties and scratch the itch 
a little until it went away. To her, logic was everything, and all problems 
had simple solutions. 

But once her hand was down there, she could not take it away. Obscene as it 
was that she be masturbating while her husband fucked another woman, Jean 
just had to do it. If they saw her at all, much less caught her the way she 
was now, Jean would just die. But her body felt as if she would die if she 
did not frig herself, so there just was no choice. 

The shot of sensational to her pleasure as soon as her finger hit her clit 
was a shocking one, but she did not close her eyes. She couldn't. Her 
husband by then had worked his tongue back up to Trina's ass and was 
presently pushing it between her cheeks. 

Jean was horrified, but she was also fascinated by the sight of it. Never 
did she expect to see her husband jamming his tongue right up any woman's 
asshole. How could he do such a vile thing? How could Trina suffer such 
humiliation? 

"OOoooohhh, oh, Mark. That feels so good," Trina moaned. 

Now that hardly sounded like the voice of a woman who was suffering 
humiliation. She obviously loved it. And if Jean wasn't sure of that fact by 
the way that her friend was moaning, then there could be no doubt when 
watching the way that her body was responding to the hot work of Mark's 
mouth. She was wiggling her ass against Mark's face, and he was nuzzling his 
nose in there like a happy pig in mud. 

Jean could not for the life of her understand how a woman could derive 
pleasure in being a party to such an obscene act. She could still recall the 
attempt, years ago of Mark to penetrate her own ass with his cock and how 
she had chickened out at the last minute. From that moment on, the 
impression had become firm in her mind that it was a painful and degrading 
act. 

But Trina obviously didn't feel degraded, and she could hardly be described 
as suffering any pain. So if anal eroticism was obscene, then how come her 
husband, such a gentleman in many other ways, seemed to be having the time 
of his life? The taste, as she would have imagined of an asshole couldn't be 
all that bad, since he sounded as if he were enjoying the tastiest meal in 
the world. 

"Can it be that I was all "wrong?" Jean asked herself in anguish. 

Her feelings were totally confused, but she was more curious and aroused 
than indignant now. Her hand had not missed a stroke to her clit for even a 
moment, and already she was thinking ahead to what they would do next. But 
now it was not with horror. It was with eagerness. 

Mark was spreading the cheeks of Trina's ass as he worked with his mouth and 
tongue so that he could push the entire length of his tongue in there and 
then close her ass around his face. Trina was moaning constantly, and Jean 
noticed how she reached under her belly and began to finger her cunt. Both 
of them were having the time of their lives, and Jean cried. For all they 
cared, she might as well be dead. 

Was this really the way a woman should be with a man, she asked herself. 
Should she let go of all her dignity, and her inhibitions as well, and 
simply allow all her passions to rise to the surface? Jean had never done 
that in her life. Even when she fooled around with all those boys before she 
was married, it was always with some degree of calculation, and the possible 
return had to make the effort well worth her trouble. 

Trina seemed to be giving of herself, and so did Mark. The returns? Well, 
now Jean was finally beginning to understand. Pleasure received for pleasure 
given. A simple statement to be sure, but the essential element that had 
been missing in her marriage all this time. 

She was beginning to understand what Mark had been trying to get across to 
her with words, but failing. When he tried to tell her with his body, she 
had taken offense. That it had to come to something like this in order for 
Jean to finally get his message was shameful. But it was her own shame, and 
not theirs. 

The tears fell harder now. She was angry with herself for being such a fool 
about so many things. Yes, the charities and the social functions were still 
important, but how could she have been stupid enough to place them over 
simple sexual pleasure and real happiness with her husband? 

Jean knew now that she could exist if she never attended another committee 
meeting. But without her husband, especially without the close, intimate 
communication that she had forced him to share with another woman, Jean 
finally understood that she would truly have nothing. 

Sex was no timid enterprise with those two in the bedroom. They were going 
at it lustily and with all their hearts. Mark must have cleaned out the 
inside of her ass three times over by then, and it was apparent that he was 
ready for something a little different. 

Nudging Trina to bend over even more with his face, Mark exchanged his 
tongue for his thumb. He went to work immediately on her cunt, and aroused 
Trina so that she accepted the thumb right up her ass without protest. 

Jean was amazed that she could take it on without so much as a whimper and 
even more surprised when she started undulating her hips, seemingly urging 
Mark to start finger-fucking her back there, which was precisely what he 
did. Between the way that he was lathering up her cunt and the way that he 
was frigging her ass, Trina became quickly delirious. Her moans and the 
passionate signals that she was sending off by her body were so electrifying 
that they even reached Jean and she frigged herself all the harder. 

"Please, Mark. Your cock now," Trina begged. 

In spite of everything she had seen thus far, Jean still expected that when 
they got down to the real fucking, he was still going to shove it in her 
cunt. That hole of hers was widely spread and gushing already. Certainly it 
would make an easy passage for Mark. Jean was thankful to them for choosing 
the near end of the bed, because she had a bird's eye view of the inner 
workings of her friend's hole, and would also be able to clearly see the 
fucking junction once it happened. 

His cock would slip into that wide open cunt so easily. Jean could just 
about feel the big, hard rammer herself, so strong was her view and her own 
imagination. She added two more fingers to the heat of her cunt and worked 
them quickly in and out. It never pleased her to stain her panties, but this 
was one time that she didn't care. She just couldn't wait for the real 
fucking to get started, knowing that she would get off by it. 

Her eyes were wide open and she stared hard at Trina's cunt, waiting for 
Mark to start slipping his cock in there. But instead she saw him take his 
finger out of her ass, and put his hand to his cock, holding it firmly as he 
got up closely behind her on his knees. 

Jean's heart almost stopped when she saw him lift it, spread Trina's 
asscheeks once again with his free hand, and. then place his cockhead right 
against the brown puckered ring so clearly exposed to himself as well as 
Jean. 

"You ready, baby?" he asked his mistress. 

"Am I ever," Trina answered. "Shove it in there and fuck me hard. I've never 
been this hot for an assfuck before." 

"Me too, Trina. I can't get this kind of loving at home. Can't get much of 
anything at home. Gonna give it all to you now, baby, 'cause you make me 
feel like the king of the world." 

"You are just that, stud. I'm damn lucky to be fucked by you. Now give me 
all you've got and I promise you the greatest ride you've ever had." 

Jean had no doubt that Trina could make good on her promise. She had always 
thought of herself as being a fairly sexy woman when she wanted to be, but 
Trina had it all over her. None of her moves or her words were a put-on. Her 
great passion was totally sincere, and in this respect Jean was no match for 
her. No matter how hard she had tried during the past few nights to please 
Mark, they had not been genuine efforts, and hadn't fooled Mark at all. 
Finally Jean could see why she had failed in them. 

It was strange that she should feel grateful to her friend for betraying her 
she was, but Jean had learned a lot already about the needs of her own 
husband because of their illicit coupling. If she kept an open mind and an 
open heart she could learn much more before the fuck was over. And if she 
was very lucky, there might even be a chance for her to show Mark that she 
had finally seen the light in the right way this time. 

She would not tell him how she had learned, provided that she could get away 
before she was discovered. There would be no recriminations for his 
extramarital fun and games, because Jean blamed herself for it happening. 
She had sent him to another bed just as if she had made the arrangements 
with Trina herself. Moreover, she had to admit that even she reaped some 
benefits from the act. 

Those benefits weren't all in her attitude either. Her cunt was as hot and 
greedy as if she hadn't been fucked in months. Fingers weren't as much as 
she could have hoped for. But they would have to do for the meantime. As she 
frigged herself as rapidly as her hand would work, Jean promised herself 
that she would have Mark's cock in there as soon as it was available, and in 
a couple of other places as well. 

If Trina showed that she could take his cock up her ass and not be split in 
half by it, then Jean would be willing to try it herself. And if it turned 
out that her friend actually enjoyed it, Jean could see herself actually 
begging Mark to shove that rammer up her own ass. 

Jean dared to creep just a little closer so she wouldn't miss a bit of the 
action. Her legs by then were starting to feel a little weak. So she sat 
down on the floor, her hand still busy in her cunt. Her fear of being caught 
was dissipating as Mark started pushing pressure on his cock. She was sure 
that the two of them were going to be much too occupied to even notice her 
if she was standing right there in the room. 

"Uhnnnn," Mark grunted as he started pushing his cock in. 

Even though the fingering back there had stretched her out a bit, it was 
still going to be an exceptionally tight fit, and one that he would have to 
work at to achieve. Mark didn't want to hurt this delightful woman, but he 
needn't have worried. She was cooperating with him every inch of the way by 
pushing her ass back against his cock, and then wiggling it around until the 
bulbous head of it was actually forced past the tight anal ring. 

That had taken a little bit of sweat and work on both their parts, but once 
they were past that point, both knew that the worst was over. They waited 
for a couple of seconds while Trina adjusted to the large intrusion up her 
ass, and then they were ready for the grand slam. 

Mark gripped her by the hips, took a long, deep breath and started to push, 
hard and without let-up. He watched his prick disappearing into her tight 
rear hole, an incredible inch at a time, and thought it was a sight so 
terrific that it should be shared with others. He had no idea at all that 
there actually was an excited spectator. 

Jean watched it all happening, heard every grunt and groan, and just about 
smelled their heat all the way out to the hallway, but still she had to 
wonder if it all just wasn't one wildly erotic fantasy. But this was real, 
all right. She would know that big, red dick anywhere, and there could be no 
doubt that it was forcing its way up Trina's ass. 

Jean watched with baited breath until she heard that incredible wet slam of 
Mark's belly against Trina's ass. His balls were slapping against the start 
of her cunt, and Mark readjusted his grip on her hips so that he would have 
just the control he needed to do the kind of magnificent job that such a 
hotly willing woman deserved. 

He started Ins stroking off slowly, waiting until he felt the muscles in her 
ass loosen up a bit, and then gradually picked up his tempo in accord with 
the way that Trina was responding. The woman was an expert in this facet of 
sexuality, and it didn't take her very long before she was taking his cock 
on like a champ and humping with her body just as easily and well as she 
would if she were on her back. 

"Ohhh, babbby," Mark was groaning in Trina's ear. "This is such a gorgeous 
hole." 

"You fuck it, stud. Fuck the shit right out of me. God! How hot I am." 

"How's your cunt, sweetheart?" 

"Hotter than the rest of me." 

"Then let me do something for it." 

Instantly his hand was under her body and he was frigging her clit to the 
tempo of their fucking. Jean saw how well they worked together, and realized 
that in all that time she had not heard or seen anything at all that 
resembled pain. She was hot to try it herself, and no doubt about it. 

Jean frigged herself frantically and she came not once, but twice before 
they were through with theirs. She wanted to stay until the very end, but 
after her second come, Jean came back to her senses a bit and reasoned that 
there wouldn't be enough time for her to make her getaway, if she waited 
until the very last moment. 

Reluctantly she pulled her panties back up and snuck out of the apartment 
and downstairs. It was a long sad ride home. Jean was jealous of Trina's 
getting her own husband's cock now, but more determined than ever to win him 
back for herself. She would wait until morning if necessary and lay her 
cards on the table, promising that she would work hard to please him and 
allow herself to open up to new sexual sensations. 

Meanwhile Mark and Trina were scaling the heights of their lust together. 
Now that Trina was able to take his cock with ease, Mark started slamming 
her hard and fast, and she met him thrust for thrust with her back and ass. 
She continually rocked back and forth on her elbows and heels, but never 
caused Mark to ruin his tempo. 

"Oh, baby. Oh, baby. It's gonna happen now." 

"Me too, Mark. Hurry, hurry." 

Trina could no longer hump because she was already going into her orgasm but 
she could screw around in such tantalizing circles that Mark had a hard time 
keeping up with her. They were both trying so to control themselves so that 
the fuck would last a little longer, and they did succeed for a short time. 
But both of them knew that even the best of fucks had to come to an end some 
time. 

Mark was already fucking on borrowed time. He could feel his balls churning 
and he could no longer see straight. The muscles in the calves of his legs 
were painfully cramped, and he was quickly running out of strength. But 
Trina was still working on her orgasm and he wouldn't deprive her of the 
best one possible for the world. 

Finally her body started to shake uncontrollably, and against his hand Mark 
felt a torrential outpouring. He had done his duty by this wonderful woman 
and now it was his turn for reward. He now started slamming into her so 
furiously that he lost all control. This was no longer a fuck for show. Mark 
needed desperately to get his jollies and it was all that mattered. His nuts 
were so full that they hurt, the pain so much more intense because of all 
the heavy action he had been seeing that night. 

He couldn't go on for even a second longer, but he couldn't stop. Using the 
strength of his own will now, he summoned the come up and out of his body, 
and blessedly he succeeded. This offering wasn't too much in volume, but the 
sensation of relief was truly wonderful. 

He slumped over her back now and simply let it happen. There wasn't an ounce 
of energy left in him, and he was deliriously happy. If Trina did not 
finally push him off her, Mark would have liked nothing better than to fall 
asleep right where he was and remain there until morning. The least of his 
concerns was the wife that he had left behind. 

But Trina had enough sense left for the both of them. She reasoned that 
their luck would not hold out forever, and while this fun certainly had a 
lot to say for it, Mark still had to face his problems at home and come to a 
decision one way or another. 

"Look, Mark. I admit that this is getting to be a great habit," Trina said 
while she helped him dress. "I even think I would take you on as a permanent 
houseguest if you were free. But until you have a show-down with Jean, I 
don't want to see you here again." 

There was nowhere for Mark to turn now but to face his wife. Two women had 
thrown him out in one night, and still the answers weren't coming. Trina was 
wonderful, a sensational lay. But his heart still belonged to Jean. He owed 
her at least a real show-down, as Trina had suggested. If it went nowhere, 
then he would have had to go home and pack his bags anyway. 

Promising Trina that he would let her know how everything turned out, Mark 
headed for home and was not surprised to find that all the lights were on. 
Jean would be furious, he expected, and he supposed that at least this time 
she had every right to be. 

He hadn't behaved properly at all. He should have told her that he was 
leaving and for the bed of another woman. She had a right to know exactly 
what was wrong and what he was attempting to do about it. But he was not 
expecting to have a very easy time of it with her. 

She would probably kick and scream, maybe even throw dishes at him in a 
classic scene of the irate wife. More likely than that, she would take on 
her super dignified role and he would get so sick to his stomach that he 
would pack and leave without the benefit of discussion. 

It wasn't exactly the best way to end a night of wild fucking. Not every man 
could lay claim to three sessions with two women in just a few hours, but 
somehow it just wasn't the kick that it should be. 

Mark had a feeling that one way or another, he had some pretty wild times 
ahead of him. The first question was how to best get his life in order, and 
the second was which woman he would be having those wild times with. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Jean was not angry. She wasn't exactly proud of herself for having done 
something sneaky, and dirty as well. But she was understanding her husband 
and a whole lot better than she ever had before. 

More than anything else, Jean was horny. She was hornier than she had ever 
been in her life and frantic to get her jollies before she went stark raving 
mad. If her guess was right, Mark should be arriving home at any moment, and 
madder than a hornet. 

She knew that they would have some words and that it wouldn't be easy for 
her to be honest with him. But the bad vibrations would have to burn 
themselves out before there could be any good ones. Jean was going to try to 
tell him of her love and the startling new discoveries she had made in a 
very short time, but she knew that she would never be able to tell him just 
what had inspired her so. 

That would mean a delay in their fucking of course, and so she hoped again 
that he would please hurry home. Her cunt was itching again and just 
wouldn't quit. She decided to wait it out by fingering herself some more, 
but this time in their own bed. 

Jean ran upstairs and wanted to start almost immediately, but she knew that 
she must put her face in order and get into something sexy if she had any 
hopes at all of competing with the likes of Trina. She ran a comb through 
her tangled hair, then got into a sheer black nightgown, and should have 
spent a little more time with her make up. But her cunt was demanding 
attention and she couldn't ignore it for a moment longer. 

Climbing into bed so that she would present just the right image when Mark 
finally walked in, Jean threw back the covers and then pulled up the front 
of her nightgown so that she could play a little until she heard him on the 
steps. That would leave her plenty of time to pull her nightgown down and 
cover herself before he entered the room. 

She filled her mind with the most pleasant thoughts of how she would be able 
to make everything all right this time, and even ask Mark to teach her every 
sexual trick there was so that she could keep him a content and happy man. 
This time she had good reason to be optimistic. She had truth, his truth on 
her side. 

Happily she tickled her clit, and started to fill her hole with fingers. 
Goodness knew that a come would certainly relax her at such a tense time, 
but perversely she kept on stopping just short of it, as if deliberately 
teasing herself so that she would be that much more passionate when he 
finally got down to some fucking with her. 

Over and over again Jean tried to warn herself that she might be lulled into 
a false sense of security because of her own enlightenment. Mark might not 
listen to reason no matter how she put it this time. In fact, he might not 
even allow her to begin any discussion. 

Well, she would have to find some way of convincing him that she had come to 
his way of seeing sex, even if this meant falling to her knees, kissing his 
feet, and begging him to listen. And while she was down there, Jean could 
think of an even better way of getting him to pay attention to her. Her 
mouth was already watering for a taste of his meat. She had to do even 
better than the last blowjob she gave him. 

"Come on home, Mark!" she called out the bedroom window, as if he could 
actually hear her. "Has your old lady ever got a surprise for you!" 

 CHAPTER NINE 

The stage was set, and it all looked as it should, as it had looked in the 
past. But on this night the players were cast in reverse roles. Mark was 
coming home angry and full of self-righteousness dignity, while Jean was 
horny as could be, and willing to do just about anything in order to get her 
husband to fuck her once again. 

Mark took a few turns around the block before he finally pulled into the 
driveway. His anger was dissipating and he really wished that he could keep 
it at a peak. He would be able to deal with Jean much better in an angry 
mood, possibly even scare her into realizing that she had to change or lose 
her husband to another woman. 

But whenever he thought about leaving Jean, his heart flipped over and he 
knew that he would never be able to do it. He had to find a way to make her 
see reason, and finally hit upon one that he had never fully tried before. 
He would fuck her, suck her and otherwise tease her body until she was 
reduced to a quivering mass of orgasm, and then he would make her admit how 
much she loved it. He had tried both methods before, the demanding and the 
sex, but never together. And this time he would not stop in disgust or 
frustration, nor would he take no for an answer from her. Even if he had to 
tie her hand and foot to the bed, nothing was going to stop him from 
teaching his woman the love of sex that he demanded. 

Jean, meanwhile, in their bed, was frigging herself frantically because she 
had heard the car pulling into the driveway. She wanted herself at the 
razor's edge of passion because she had often noticed how lust made her face 
look especially pretty. But no sooner did she hear his footsteps than she 
clamped her thighs together and pulled the hem of her nightgown down. She 
did not, however cover herself, deciding at the last moment that a seemingly 
accidental display of her body might be just the right touch for his first 
sight in the room. 

Mark came up the stairs angry and ready to argue. Jean was lying there with 
sex on her mind and submissiveness in her heart. When their eyes met, it was 
with total surprise. Mark saw how beautiful she looked and the telltale 
expression on her face, the lovely gleam in her eye could only be passion. 
He really didn't know what to make of it. 

Jean saw the same stern expression on his face that she had often seen 
reflected in her mirror. Now she understood how it could turn a man off to 
even a discussion. It would have been like trying to talk with the Rock of 
Gibraltar. Never again would she wear that expression and she had to do 
everything in her power to wipe it off her husband's face as well. This was 
the man she loved, he was worth every effort. Besides, her cunt was fairly 
screaming for a hot cock! 

"I'm so glad you're home, honey," she said in her most sultry voice. 

"Do you mean it this time?" 

"Yes and much more. Come to me, Mark. I spent this night discovering just 
how much you mean to me." 

"I don't trust you any more." 

"You can and you must. Let me please you, Mark. Let me show you in the best 
way I can that I honestly mean it this time." 

"I don't know...." 

"I'm not saying we don't have to talk. We still do. But I am saying that I 
see much more clearly what I've been missing with you, Mark, and I need so 
much to show you that I now appreciate what I have." 

"Sounds awfully good, but you always were a good talker, Jean. I just don't 
know." 

"Come to me, my love, and let me show you." 

Her voice was full of passion now, and Mark knew that it was genuine. Jean 
raised one knee and he was suddenly looking straight down into the shadow of 
her cunt. Her arms were held out to him and Mark's cock sprang to rigid 
hardness. He didn't think he had another erection left in him, but there it 
was. 

"Is this going to be another one of your grand stand plays? I just don't 
have the patience for it tonight." 

"No, honey. I swear it isn't. I've just been lying awake these couple of 
nights and realizing how wacky my thinking has really been lately. I 
deprived you of so much pleasure, and I also deprived myself. My first duty 
is to my love for you." 

"There you go about duty again." 

"Please listen to me! I'm saying that I know now it's more important than 
anything else in the world. And I am also saying that without that pleasure 
I have come to realize that life really isn't worth living. The charities 
and all that other stuff should just be a bonus. If that's all the other 
women have in their lives then they must be very unhappy people." 

"Yes, and they wanted you to share their misery. Why should you be enjoying 
all sorts of great action when they were shriveling up like a bunch of old 
prunes? Can you really see that now?" 

"Oh, yes I can. And so much more, darling. I want to be an adventurer. The 
way we used to be in school. The way I know you still could be with me if 
only I would give you a chance." 

"I can't believe what I'm hearing. I'm almost afraid to ask what's made this 
sudden change in you.". 

"Does that matter?" 

"No, I suppose not. It's just that I've heard speeches from you before. Not 
like this, of course." 

"I want to give you more than a speech if you would just get in bed with me, 
my love." 

"Well, I suppose I don't have anything to lose." 

"And I have everything to gain. My, what a beautiful hard-on that is. I 
can't wait to get at it." 

Mark listened closely for any note of insincerity in her voice, but hard as 
he tried, he could not find any. He couldn't for the life of him figure out 
what had come over her, but finally he stopped trying and thanked his good 
fortune. It just could be that he would not have to face that impossible 
decision he had been considering in the car. 

Should it turn out that Jean and Trina could be equals in the sack, then 
there would be no doubt that he would want to stay with his wife. Kicks were 
great with Trina, but there was no love. 

Wasn't the terrific marriage that they could have between them worth taking 
a chance on Jean this one more time? He certainly wished that she hadn't 
chosen this particular night to test his passion for her, but at least the 
shock of what he had come home to was enough to stimulate his adrenal glands 
and he was able to get it up again, and surprisingly, keep it up. 

His mind quickly filled with all the wonderful possibilities that were lying 
open before him now. If Jean was sincere about total submission, then there 
were so many great kicks that he could teach her, and even more that they 
could come up with together. He would even be willing to go along with a few 
of her committee things provided that his masculine needs did not suffer in 
want again. 

Mark had to admit that she certainly looked gorgeous right then. There was 
that peculiar flush about her that he had only seen on those rare occasions 
when Jean allowed herself to be truly passionate. There certainly was the 
promise of something really special lying in that bed tonight. 

"You know I never stopped loving you, Jean." 

"I do know, and I'm a very lucky lady for that. I don't want you to leave 
me, Mark. I want you to have everything you can possibly need or want in 
this bed, and in our marriage." 

"It could be wonderful for you, too." 

"I know that. I'm through thinking of sex in terms of sacrifice and 
dealing." 

Now Mark could really see that Jean meant every word she was saying. There 
were tears of humility in her eyes, and her body was spread wide open for 
him as her chest heaved. There was more beauty in her face than he had ever 
seen before. She radiated love and uninhibited sexuality, and Mark was 
suddenly as hot for her as if he had been a prisoner in solitary confinement 
for many months. 

"You will give me another chance, Mark?" 

He didn't answer her with words. Mark came close to the side of the bed and 
took a good, long look at the new woman who was his wife. There were changes 
in her that he had never seen before, and yet there were elements of the 
luscious, passionate girl that she used to be as well. 

She was so much more feminine, sensual, and in these respects more than even 
Trina, who was very difficult to top. All this was tremendously exciting, 
but it was what he saw in her eyes that really gave him palpitations. There 
was pure lust in them, exciting and electrifying. 

His cock jumped frantically in his pants and he felt his body getting very 
hot. 

"I want your body so badly, Mark," his wife whispered. "I'm a new woman now, 
totally new. The desire that I have for you is genuine, from the heart and 
the senses, and not calculated in any way." 

"I can see that. For the first time in years, I can believe you, even if I 
can't understand how it happened." 

"Please, let's not talk about it any longer. The best way I can show you is 
in your arms. Please come and fuck me. Please, please darling. Give me your 
cock." 

Mark shook his head in disbelief as he heard his wife speaking in a way that 
she never had before. Not only talking dirty, but literally begging for the 
wild brand of sex that she knew he had to give. 

"Give me that cock," she continued. "I need that gorgeous cock of yours so 
badly." 

Now she sat up against the pillows and undid the little buttons that were at 
the low neckline of her alluring nightgown. Once open, she shrugged her 
succulent body out of it and tossed it quickly to the floor. Jean lay naked 
in the lamplight, raising her knees and spreading her legs so that she could 
part the lips of her cunt with two of her fingers and show her man just how 
red and wet she was for him. 

His palms began to sweat as he looked down at her, watching the way her 
heavy breasts heaved with desire, and the nipples of them thrusting forward 
like two crimson arrows. That was as much as he could see and still remain 
fully dressed. He dropped his clothes to the floor in a flash, then hovered 
over her gleaming naked body, his raging cock in his hand, until she reached 
out for it herself and caressed her palm across the tip of it with loving 
tenderness. 

Their eyes met and they stared at one another with unbridled lust. This was 
normal and natural. The right of two married people, and as human as 
anything else in their species. Jean's face brightened with a sly grin. She 
was totally in her role now. 

"I can be anything you want now, dear. A real tramp who loves the dirtiest 
sex you can devise for me." 

"It's never dirty between two people who love each other, Jean. You watch 
and see." 

"I think I know that already, and I want it all. Anything your body can do 
is just fine with me." 

"You really have turned into a hot little bitch, haven't you?" 

"You bet I have." 

Jean dropped her other hand down to her throbbing pussy and raised her hips 
so that she could actually start to finger herself, even while her husband 
was watching. There was no longer any reason to feel ashamed. She had seen 
Mark playing with himself often and now she could do the same as naturally 
as he did. 

Mark watched in amazement, but didn't take much time to enjoy the sight. The 
call of his own body was much too urgent. His throbbing cock was standing 
straight out in front of him, and his balls felt amazing full, considering 
the number of times they had been called upon to make sperm that night, and 
to such an intense degree. 

"Seeing you like that turns me on so much, baby. I feel like I could fuck 
you steady for the next six hours and still come out fresh and ready for 
some more." 

"Oh, yesss! Six hours is just what I need with you. Six hours to show my 
love for you in every fuck and suck I can give you." 

They could wait no longer. Mark crawled on to the bed and they moved 
together. Their breath was coming hard, their passions building with every 
inch that they came nearer. Jean no longer needed to handle her own cunt. 
Mark was there, and Mark would satisfy all her needs. 

Instinctively, they reached out for one another, urging their bodies as 
closely together as two could be without actually fucking, until they were 
in a most passionate embrace. They kissed hungrily, tongues meeting and 
lashing. Mark ran his hands down along the undulating curves of his wife's 
lush body, down to her gently sloping hips and then around to the trembling 
tautness of her sleek belly. 

Then he moved up again, reaching for the quivering globes of her magnificent 
breasts, which he filled his hands with and massaged vigorously. The flesh 
was soft and silky, but the breasts themselves were fat and full, swollen 
with all the passion that she harbored. 

This was hot and it was real. All he had to do was squeeze the dark red 
nipples and feel them sharply against his palm to know for a certainty that 
this was no put-on. He pressed those already sharp points between his 
fingers and loved the way that they sprang forth even more fully when he 
finally let them go. 

Jean was not just lying there passively. She was very hot for her husband's 
body, putting her hands immediately to work by reaching down past the 
muscled belly and on to his passion swollen prick, lying rigid and quivering 
at her side. Lovingly she ran her fingers all around the head of it, 
thrilling to the touch of the blood-filled spongy head, and dipping her 
finger into the eye of it to search for a drop of juice. Once finding some, 
Jean plopped that finger into her mouth and Mark laughed when he saw her 
smack her lips. 

"Can I suck on your lollipop for just a little bit?" she asked. 

"Yes, of course you can. But not for long, honey. Because where it really 
belongs is in your cunt." 

"Well, maybe some place else." 

Mark was ready to ask her just what she meant by that, but she wouldn't have 
been able to answer as she had already wormed her body around so that her 
head was between his legs. As soon as her mouth could reach, she closed it 
around his aching shaft and went wetly to work. 

"Godddd," he groaned as he felt his body summoning forth strength and 
control that he was sure had to be sapped from his body for a long time. 

He felt his cock traveling all the way down her throat, and knew from the 
easy way that she took it on that Jean was very much turned on by what she 
was doing for him. Furthermore, she was having herself some fun while she 
was at it. But Mark didn't have much spunk left and decided to save it for 
something else. 

"You said some place else, baby. Just what did you have in mind?" 

"How about up my ass?" 

"Are you serious?" 

"Yes love, and not just as a service to you. I want to try it for the sake 
of my own pleasure as well." 

"Then that's what you get. Flip over, baby." 

Once she was in position, Mark wasted no time in getting up behind her. 

"This is your last chance, baby. If you want to back out now I certainly 
will understand." 

"I will never back out on anything you want to do with me, Mark. Besides, I 
want this just as much as you do." 

"In that case, we're all set. Just you hang on to something and I promise to 
make it real easy on you ... Don't worry. I know what I'm doing." 

Jean wanted to tell him that she had reason to be sure of that, but she knew 
enough to keep her mouth shut. 

"Just one more second, dear. I want to get my cock really well coated with 
some spit before I slam this prick into you. The last thing in the world I 
want to do is hurt you, love." 

"I ddn't mind if it hurts a little. I know that it will all work out well in 
the end." 

"Now that's for sure!" 

Mark applied a generous wad of spit to THE ENDof his dick, then he spit in 
his hands some more and dug inside Jean's ass with the fluid. She grimaced 
just a little, but it began to feel good right away, and Jean relaxed. Mark 
feasted his eyes on the sight of the beautiful female before him, this 
beautiful woman bent over so obscenely, her beautiful naked ass quivering in 
lewd expectation of his strong hard cock. 

It was a sight, Mark thought, stimulating enough to arouse a dead man's 
cock. 

"Hurry, Mark," Jean urged. "Do it to me. Bury that cock right up my ass." 

"Comin' up, lady," Mark growled, his voice edged with passion. 

He wiped his spit covered hands on the bedspread and then crawled into 
position behind Jean. With his thumbs he pried apart the succulent cheeks of 
her ass, then directed the clublike head of his greased cock to her tight 
anus. When the head of his tool was wedged between her asscheeks, at the 
portal of her posterior, he brought his hands up to her hips and, leaning 
forward a bit, began pushing into her rectal cavity. 

"Uhhh, uhh...." Jean groaned. "Easy, easy." 

"I know, baby, I know," Mark whispered. "Once it's in we got it made. Here 
we go now; just a little more ... uhhh...." 

Jean grimaced and pushed her rear end back. 

She felt the fat crown of her husband's blood-thickened tool straining at 
her wrinkled brown hole and for a fleeting moment wished her husband's cock 
was at least a little shorter. 

She tried to breathe deeply, to open her anus to the hard knob demanding 
entrance to her bowels. In her moment of frustration she cursed her husband, 
berated him for not once fucking her in the ass during the past years. 

For another few minutes the excited husband worked to slip his hard pecker 
inside Jean's gorgeous behind. And then suddenly when he was almost ready to 
give up, the bulbous head popped into the woman's rear, the result of a 
quick, sharp thrust by a determined man and an accidental counter-thrust 
backward by an equally determined woman. 

"Ouch...." Jean cried. 

"It's in, honey," Mark said thickly, happily. "Relax." 

Breathing hard, inspired by his success in breaching the beautiful woman's 
rear hole, Mark immediately set about pushing his prick all the way up 
inside Jean's tight rectal canal. Sharp, animallike grunts tumbled from his 
lips as he pressed forward, his inching ahead meat, slowly but surely. 

Jean bit down on her lower lip and shut her eyes tight. A low moan of 
protest pushed past her lips as Mark's big cock relentlessly moved into her 
backside. Although it was a familiar one to her, his thick, throbbing cock 
felt a foot long as it wormed its way through the dark and constricting 
channel. 

"We're getting there, beautiful," Mark whispered, pausing briefly in his 
work. "We're almost there." 

The sight that greeted him as he straightened up and looked down at the 
obscene connection of prick and anus caused him to shake with lust. He noted 
happily that a little more than half of his blood-packed prick was securely 
embedded in Jean's fantastic ass. This left about not too much to go. Then 
he would be buried to the balls in Jean's rear, his entire cock snugly 
encased in the hot, tight channel of her dank rectum. 

"Go head, give me more," Jean urged, her voice quivering impatiently. "I 
want it all, Mark. Fill my ass with your beautiful cock. I can take it." 

"You're gonna get it, honey. I'm gonna stuff you chock full of hard meat." 

"Do it, do it! Then ream me out." 

The pain of penetration was gradually diminishing and now, as Mark resumed 
the filling of her ass, Jean felt her body responding to the obscene 
invasion of her most private hole. 

Jean thrilled to the fantastic feeling of fullness in her rectum, the 
throbbing cock moving back there feeling like a piston engine in there, the 
strange, perverse pleasure and surge of masochistic joy resulting from the 
knowledge that her husband was possessing her as he had possessed Trina. 

It was so wonderfully wicked, so excitingly evil and sinful. 

"Deep ... deep," Jean pleaded, beginning to rotate her bottom in slow, 
sensuous circles. "Stick it all the way in, love." 

Grunting and groaning, Mark moved his meaty rod along the untouched hole. 
His probing prick pushed aside all in its path as it forged ahead, 
relentlessly, with determination. And then, when only a small portion of his 
prick remained in view, Mark tightened his grip on Jean's hips and with a 
buttock-flattening plunge sheathed his tool to the hilt in her quivering 
behind. 

"Ohh, good," Jean moaned, realizing that at last she had every inch of her 
dear husband's prick firmly embedded in her bowels. 

"Yeah, how's that?" Mark asked, his breathing ragged. 

"Good, I love it, I love to be fucked this way." 

His blood boiling, desire coursing through his veins, Mark again looked down 
and took note of the lewd linking of asshole to cock. Jean's widely 
distended anus was gripping his embedded tool tightly, as if never ever 
would it allow the rigid rod to be removed from the hot confines of her 
tight rectum. 

"Come on, love," Jean pleaded. "Move in me, baby. Start fucking my ass. Give 
it to me-fuck it!" 

Further encouragement being totally unnecessary, Mark leaned forward over 
Jean's back, wrapped his arms around her swaying tits, and then started his 
hips rolling. He withdrew his cock until only the swollen head was snugly 
sheathed in Jean's horribly stretched anus, then, with a strong shove, 
pushed himself back inside the clasping warmth of her rectum. 

"Yes, like that," Jean cried out passionately. "Fuck it, Mark. Stretch my 
ass out for me. Do it hard, baby." 

"You won't be able to sit for a week," Mark promised, again withdrawing his 
raging cock and again thrusting it back inside Jean's trembling backside. 

It wasn't long before he established a steady, even rhythm, reaming Jean's 
back door with strong, grinding thrusts of his blood-thickened cock. Bent 
over her back, his sweating face nestled against her creamy neck, Mark 
squeezed the heaving globes of the beautiful woman's breasts as he sawed his 
tool in and out of her hot, gripping shit chute. 

"It's good ... so good," Jean moaned. 

That was all Mark needed to hear before he went hog-wild with her. Now he 
began to slam in and out of that slightly stretched hole with ease, working 
up a magnificent fucking rhythm and greatly thrilled that she was even able 
to move along with him. They worked like a truly matched pair, each sensing 
the urgings of the other and knowing just when every next move would happen. 

Jean was far too excited to last for very long. She had resumed her 
finger-fucking just as soon as she was able to break her concentration from 
the pressure in her ass, and just seconds later she dropped a wad onto the 
bed. 

"Wonderful, baby," he murmured in her ear...."I am so proud of you for that. 
Now I'm going to give you your reward." 

It was what Mark had been waiting for. Now that she had gotten off and he 
saw that she no longer held anything at all back from him, he saw no reason 
why he shouldn't go ahead and fuck himself into an orgasm. There was no need 
to prolong this. Jean had proven to him that she was telling the truth about 
her sexual enlightenment, and Mark was very close to exhaustion. 

He fucked until he felt his vision begin to blur, and then felt a real pain 
in his balls. Soon that pain became so intense that he knew he must pop or 
he was going to black out. Just a second later, the last few drops of spunk 
that his balls contained came dripping out into Jean's rear hole, and they 
both collapsed in a happy heap. 

Mark took his time in pulling out his tool from there, waiting for it to go 
slack and drop out by itself. He had never thought he would see the day when 
he could fuck Jean back there, and now he was savoring the ecstasy of it for 
as long as he could. But that moment had to come, and once he fell off her, 
Mark was suddenly feeling very sad. 

"Sweetheart, I really have been rough on you lately. I should have been more 
patient, listened a little harder. It shouldn't have come to arguments and 
fighting before it came to this." 

"That's all over and in the past now, honey. All that happens from this 
moment on is what counts." 

"That's true, I suppose. I do have some things in my own past that I think 
it would be best to forget." 

Jean understood exactly what he was talking about. Since he was making the 
break with Trina on his own, she saw no reason to discuss what she had 
observed. In the long run, Mark was a good and faithful man. Jean had 
contributed to what happened in that apartment, just as much as he had. As 
he said, things like that were best left in the past. 

Because she shared the blame with the two of them, Jean knew that she would 
be able to face Trina in the future as if the fucking between she and her 
husband had never happened. It was as if she and Mark were embarking on the 
start of their marriage all over again. Only this time Jean would make sure 
that she did not commit all the old errors. 

As she lay there beside her husband, his head nestled against her breast and 
his lips gently nuzzling it, Jean resolved that she would call Caroline 
first thing in the morning and resign from several of her committees. Not 
all of them, but certainly most. She was going to need a lot more time to be 
at home with her husband, and not all of it for fucking. 

This new closeness that they now shared would probably spread into other 
areas as well. Jean knew of Mark's love for tennis and she resolved to take 
lessons and then play with him in mixed doubles whenever he wished. She 
would also study up on football, knowing that it would please him to be able 
to discuss the afternoon game with her. 

Maybe they would go dancing as they used to when they were young and start 
their romance all over again. There was a whole world of new discoveries 
just waiting out there for the two of them, and now that Jean was no longer 
afraid to try new things, she was sure that her inner self would expand and 
become more valuable as well. 

Mark was not making any big plans as he lay there and tasted her breast. He 
was much too happy with the present to think about anything more just then. 
His good fortune seemed to be boundless, and he had good reason to be very 
proud of his wife. 

It couldn't have been easy for her to turn her thinking completely around 
and come to his side of the sexual fence. He was reasonably sure that she 
would be willing to give up some of her organizations now that she had 
something much more enjoyable to do with her spare time. 

But he would not make her give up everything. In fact, since she was being 
such a good girl, Mark decided that he would try to take more of an interest 
in some of the organizations himself. It wouldn't hurt him to learn 
something about her world. 

"You know something, Jean?" 

"What is it, honey?" 

"I don't think anyone ever did anything as perverted as what we just have 
and come out of it with so many good vibrations. I have the feeling that 
this is the start of a brand-new life for you and me. From now on there will 
be no more fights without discussions. I promise to have an open mind if you 
will. But I see that I really don't have to ask that of you. You've already 
shown me how willing you are to see my side of things." 

"Oh, Mark. I am the happiest woman in the world. This assfuck is just the 
beginning. You and I are going to learn all about every sexual deviation so 
that we can try them all. I'm not promising that I'll love every one of 
them, but I am promising that I will try. Is that all right?" 

"Sweetheart, I couldn't ask anything more of you." 

"You can ask the world of me, and if it is within my realm, I will give it 
to you, Mark." 

"Not if I don't give it to you first." 

He kissed her then, and it was a kiss totally without passion. It was 
however, a kiss of the deepest love and respect, the perfect topping for a 
fuck of total communication and empathy. Mark nestled closely against his 
wife's body and fell into a deep and untroubled sleep, the first in too many 
nights for him. 

But Jean was not in a hurry to doze off yet. Her head was still whirling 
with feeling of joy, and she cried softly to herself. Everything would be 
all right between them now, and with every new dawn, she would have the 
opportunity to make it even better. 

Jean had finally come to the glory of her life, and she would always be 
grateful to Mark for showing her the way. 


THE END
