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Beth Ann Darrow really didn't like the work schedules she and Paul had. She worked Mondays through Fridays, nine to five. That was normal. He had Thursdays off but had to work on Saturdays. And he didn't even get overtime pay for it! But he was assistant manager at the garage, and someday maybe he'd be the official manager.

And since she was here by herself for this Saturday, she might as well make an effort at getting some of the boxes unpacked.

It was hard to believe they had had so much stuff in the old apartment. Where had they put it all when they lived there? The new place in Elmwood seemed to have boxes stacked everywhere, things they had brought with them when they moved in.

She looked around the utility room, which was jampacked, and she shook her head. She really needed Paul here to help lift some of the boxes. All the junk seemed to be on top, the important stuff underneath. Beth Ann sighed. She had a day's work ahead of her, and even that would leave her nowhere near finished.

She was just getting started when the door bell rang. Who could that be? She wasn't expecting company -she and Paul still hardly knew anyone in the neighborhood.

Probably a Jehovah's Witness or a door-todoor salesman. She wasn't sure which she would least rather see. And she must look a fright, with a bandanna tied around her dark hair, dressed very casually in shorts and tied-up shirt. Maybe she'd scare them away with her appearance and get back to work.

"Oh," she said in honest surprise. Standing at her door was a man she had seen around the block and who she knew to be Don Robertson, an accountant who lived down at the end of the street.

He was the husband of that sexy blonde Mrs Robertson who went jogging every morning, the one she'd caught Paul staring at a few times. Well, what was not to stare at? Mrs R was what Beth Ann's mother would have called a real dish, long and lean and rich-looking, not to mention sexy-looking, with tits so big and eye-catching you'd have sworn they _must_ be fake until you saw they way they bounced even inside her sports bra.

Her husband was a very tall man, towering over the diminutive Beth Ann. He wore sportslacks and an Izod shirt, just like most of the men here in the neighborhood -it was definitely a place where preppies turned yuppies came to grow old among their own kind.

He was also rather good-looking, if you liked the Robert Redford type. Beth Ann figured him for about thirty-two, a good ten years older than she and Paul.

"Is there something I can do for you?" she asked, genuinely puzzled as to why he was standing on her doorstep. She knew him only by sight; they'd never exchanged a word of conversation before.

Don Robertson nodded, rather gravely, Beth Ann thought. The expression on his face disturbed her. "I think we should talk," the man said. "May I come in, Mrs Darrow?" He tapped the box under his arm. "And by any chance, do you have a VCR?"


Beth Ann sat before the tv in a state of shock. The images had died off the screen but they were still playing in front of her horrified eyes. It looked like one of the X-rated videos Paul sometimes brought home and which she always got so embarrassed watching, but this was no packaged product from the rental shop.

"When? How?" she asked in a daze. "When did my husband and your wife -when did they -?"

"Thursday, I believe," Don said, lighting a cigarette. "We have a camcorder in our bedroom. We like to videotape ourselves -I'm sure you understand--" She did, and she was a little shocked at what she understood. "This was taped over a little movie we had made on Wednesday evening, so..."

Beth Ann's mind raced. Thursday. God! That was the day she had come home from work sooooo horny, and she'd seduced Paul in the den, on the rug, but he'd been unable to get his cock hard. She'd sucked on it, and everything, and it had stayed limp as a dishcloth.

Well! Now she knew goddamned well why she couldn't turn him on that evening! He'd spent the day _fucking_ that sexy Mrs Robertson and he just had nothing left for her! Oh, God!!!

"I'm so embarrassed," she said, mentally replaying the entire videotape. The things Paul and Mrs Robertson had done! Her mouth sucking like a piranha at Paul's cock. Paul rolling her all over the huge bed as he rammed his prick in and out of her pussy, while her toes wiggled excitedly in the air, her hands stroked and clawed at his flesh, her mouth glued to his in hot kisses.

She saw, and heard, Mrs Robertson commanding Paul to take his cock out of her pussy and squirt his cum all over her bush and her belly, saw the woman's elegant hand smearing the stuff onto her skin just like Ginger Lynn or Nina Hartley in a porno movie.

She shivered as she remembered how Mrs Robertson had sucked Paul hard again, while the camera captured it all, and how she'd taken his load right into her mouth, letting it ooze from her lips after he'd squirted. Her own husband, doing those things with another woman!

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Beth Ann," said Don Robertson, stubbing out his cigarette. "You're a beautiful woman. I can't imagine why your husband would ever want to cheat on you. Oh, maybe I can. Sabra is a fox. I've never been able to resist her. Most men fantasize about her, just seeing her on the street. Once in a while it carries over into real life. This isn't the first time she's done something like this. I just happened to find the tape, this time." His voice dropped away, a note of sadness creeping in.

Beth Ann felt a strange mixture of emotions. She was angry as hell at her husband and at Don's wife, Sabra, for this betrayal. _How_ could Paul have done something like this to her?

But she felt soooo sorry for Don Robertson. His eyes looked misty but he was trying so hard to look strong and manly. Surely he knew that in the '80s it was okay for a guy to show his emotions, if he felt them. She was about to cry, both for herself and for him. Compassion bubbled in her veins.

Impulsively, she stood up, went to his chair, put her arm around him. Leaning her head against his shoulder, she said, "Well, I guess we'll have to figure out what we're going to do."

His arm encircled her. He had strong arms. She bet he played tennis, handball, all those forearm sports. His large hand cupped her shoulder. She felt herself easing more closely against him. His aftershave smelled remarkably good.

"I'm so glad you understand," he said, as vulnerable as Phil Donahue. He put his other arm around her too, the fingers resting on the bare skin just above the low-riding waistband of her denim shorts. There was a certain humming vibration to his touch on her flesh. Beth Ann began to feel very strange.

The pictures played once more in her mind, and now that they were more familiar, they didn't seem so shocking or horrible. She had to confess that the videotape had aroused her at least a little bit. She'd gasped each time Paul rammed his cock into Mrs Robertson's pussy, feeling its familiar bite echoing as if by sympathetic harmony inside her own cunt.

As she rested against Don, she squeezed her thighs together and she noted that the bun of her pussy was damp, and warm, too. She flexed her thighs again, felt an itching sensation down there. God, she was starting to feel the same way she had Thursday, when she came home from work with such a hunger for her husband's cock!

Don put his hand on her chin, tipped her head back. "You're a very understanding woman, Beth Ann," he said, in a soft, sensitive voice. "If I had to show this tape to any man's wife, I'm almost glad it was you."

He's going to kiss me! she thought, and she closed her eyes just as his mouth touched hers.

Her hands came up to push him away, but as they touched his hard firm body she felt her fingers clamping down. She leaned in to him, her lips parting slightly as his mouth covered her own.

His tongue was in her mouth before she was completely aware of it, but a live-wire sensation rippled inside her oral chamber as he came inside, and she made a whining sound into his mouth.

He had both hands on her waist now, and they were sliding downward. She gasped as he took hold of her ass and squeezed the rounded cheeks. She felt as if he were holding her bare flesh, as if there was no layer of denim between his fingers and her butt. In another moment, his fingertips were inside her shorts, sliding down into her panties.

"No," she said, "you shouldn't do that," but he was still kissing her, and the words came out muffled, indistinct.

He came up from the chair, bore her down before him, onto the floor. She stretched out, her knees lifting, her mouth still dominated by his. It's only fair, she thought. My husband fucked his wife. Surely we're entitled to a little revenge???

But she still didn't intend to go all the way with Don, not even as he began to unbutton and untie her shirt. She was braless underneath -her cupcake tits were so firm and high that she didn't need any lingerie support -and she gasped at the feel of his hands on her tits.

He caressed her pink nipples until they throbbed with stiffened desire, and as he continued to kiss and feel her, he let his crotch graze against one of her bare thighs, and she could feel that her nipples weren't the only things that were stiff. The bulk of a huge hard cock stretched out the front of his pants, and he brushed it against her once more, making sure she could feel that he was aroused and stiff.

She shook her head, trying to tell him with body language that this could not go any further, but he paid no attention. He cupped her tits, jiggled them, tickled the nipples to even harder points. His fingers closed on the pink tabs and he squeezed gently, and Beth Ann sighed.

"Oh, God, that feels good," she purred into his mouth.

He kissed down to her tits, then began to suck and nibble at them. She moaned in delight, wrapping both hands around his head, pulling him to her nipples. His hands were free now to range downward.

She writhed as he unsnapped the top of her cutoffs, eased them down over her hips, down her thighs, to the knees. He pulled the panties low at the same time, and his hand came back up to cup and fondle the dark-furred mound of her pussy.

She felt the lips opening to his touch, and she knew that he found her wet and soft and slippery inside. His fingers slid around on her juicy flesh, smearing the fluids onto the erecting button of her clitoris.

He made the clit wet before he began to caress it, and when he did, she gave a choked whimper of acceptance. As his fingers slid downward to stimulate the opening of her pussy, Beth Ann knew that she was going to fuck this man.

His finger went inside, thrusting delicately into her youthful tightness, and she said, "Oh, I shouldn't do this, but I don't think I can stop now..."

It was just fair play, she told herself as she sat up and he knelt before her, ready to be undressed. She slid the shirt up over his head.

God, his chest was hairy! Paul's was almost smooth. She'd never touched a man whose chest was so ticklishly furry. She put her hands, palms down, on him and just absorbed the feel of his body hair. His nipples were as hard as her own, but she was sure they didn't feel as good as hers did right now.

Leaning in, she licked them with the tip of her pink tongue, and she heard him sigh. Maybe they did respond just as excitedly as her own nipples, she thought, tasting the salty flavor of his skin. She moved her face through his body hair, giggling as it got ticklish on her flesh.

He took her hands and put them on his crotch, moving the fingers along the outlined shape of his erect cock. Jesus, he had a big one! It felt as big as some of the pricks in the X-rated movies Paul occasionally watched. She looked up at him.

"Is it real?" she asked, clutching the giant shape.

He didn't answer verbally. He put her hand on his zipper and helped her tug it downward, then he guided her hand into the undone fly. She reached inside and found the reality of his big cock and her pale blue eyes rolled over in their sockets.

"Oh, Jesus!" she said, pulling him out into the light.

His cock was almost a foot long, she was sure, and as thick as her forearm. She stroked it up and down, skinning back the head, amazed at the deep purple cast of his knob. Wetness was oozing through his slitted opening. She wasn't the only one whose crotch was getting moist, was she?

Holding Don Robertson's prick in her fist, she was unable to come up with a single argument why she should not go ahead and fuck this man.

She had to confess that she was even more aroused right now than she'd been the other day when she came home from work with hot pants and forced herself on a fucked-out Paul.

Damn him! She hoped he'd had a good time with Don's wife! It might be the last good time he was gonna have in a long long while!

Don was guiding her head downward. "Oh, I can't," she sighed, as his cock came closer and closer to her face, but then she was staring at it eye to eye.

A bubble of pre-cum, looking like the tear he had refused to let drip from his eyes, was oozing out of his slit, and it made Beth Ann feel soooo deeply the sadness that Don must be experiencing right now. This was the least she could do, for him, for herself. She held his cock firmly in her hand and she began to lick demurely at its shaft, moving slowly up to the tip.

She skinned back the foreskin, baring the enormous knob completely, and she gulped, but she made her tongue walk across it, tiptoeing delicately. The more she licked, the wetter his knob became, both with her saliva and the leakage of his pre-cum. Her hand trembled on his shaft. Stretching her lips as widely as they would go, she eased him into her mouth and began to work her head back and forth.

Inside her mouth, he was even bigger. Beth Ann strained to take him, unable to swallow more than just the big glans of Don's cock. But her saliva was flowing thickly and it frothed in bubbles on the surface of his prick flesh. He moved in and out easily, but she couldn't get much of him inside.

Closing down her lips, she began to suck at his cock. The meaty taste of him was almost overpowering. She remembered how eagerly she'd approached Paul's cock the other evening, wanting to surprise and delight him with the intensity of her desire by giving him some unrequested head.

No wonder he hadn't appreciated the gesture! She could still see the videotape image of his cum gushing into Sabra Robertson's hungry, horny cunt of a mouth, could see the thick white cream oozing from the lascivious blonde's full, red lips and running down her dimpled chin. Bitch! Bastard!

Almost without knowing it she'd begun to take Don's huge cock deeper into her mouth. She nearly gagged, feeling him thrust across her lapping tongue, but she stifled the urge and she concentrated on sucking. She'd seen Don's wife at work; she knew that Sabra sucked cock like a professional. She couldn't do nearly as skillful a blowjob, but she could at least be sincere.

If only she could breathe, too!

Her mouth was stuffed full of the fat rod, and she couldn't get air into her lungs. Coughing, Beth Ann pulled her head back, wiping her wet mouth as it slid off the stiffened, engorged prick.

Her hand kept stroking up and down the shaft, the foreskin sliding back and forth to reveal the glistening gleam of his purple, lust-bloated knob. She moved her face down, kissed his prickhead warmly, lips parting to allow it access to her tongue. Drool ran from between her teeth, onto his cock.

He pulled her up, and he kissed her. It was an exciting kiss, but so was the fact of being with him, naked, her on the living room floor in her new house. He crushed her body to his, and her tits itched as they stroked the hair-matted surface of his chest.

"Yes," he said, "I think this is what we should be doing, don't you, Beth Ann? You don't mind if I call you Beth Ann, do you?"

Why should she mind? She'd already sucked his cock. They might as well be on a first-name basis. Her hand tightened on his prick and she said, "If you want to fuck me..."

"I do," he said, "I do want to fuck you, very much, Beth Ann. I can't believe how much I want to fuck you."

They finished undressing. His body was gorgeous, if you went for real hunks. Very muscular, very hard -and hardest of all was his fat, throbbing cock! Nude, Beth Ann stretched out on the floor. Her legs were widespread, her knees lifted up, and she was waiting for him to crawl aboard.

But first he had some business between her legs. She moaned aloud at the quality of his pussy-eating. He'd obviously had a _lot_ of practise! His tongue aroused her clit even more than she had ever dreamed possible, and she whimpered through two mini-orgasms before he was finished.

"Oh, fuck me," she whispered, stroking his dark gold hair, "please, please fuck me!"

He mounted her small, slim body, topping her carefully, and she reached down, panting, as she took hold of his cock and pulled it to her orgasm-itchy cuntal lips.

She teased her twat's mouth with the end of his cock, gasping as she rubbed herself all over with his throbbing tip. His pre-cum oozed onto her erected clit, making it pulsate even more excitedly with the fires of lust.

"Now," she said, placing his knob against the crack of her slit. "Now!!!" and she swallowed him into her cuntal sheath.

She'd never fucked a cock as big as Don's before. It was appreciably larger even than Paul's tool, and she'd always thought of Paul's prick as giant-sized.

The big hard shaft spread her slippery cuntal lips as it sank into Beth Ann. The walls of her cunt stretched almost to the creaking point. His groin pounded down onto hers, and his cock rammed deep into her pussy. If she hadn't been hot and oh so fucking ready for it, he'd have ripped her pussy apart.

But she was hot, and wet, and despite her tightness, Beth Ann's cunt ate Don Robertson's dick with greedy contractions and ripples. He plumbed the bottom of her hole, and his body was atop hers, pressing down hard, and she said, "Oh, Jesus!!!"

He rabbitfucked in and out of her pussy, not minding its tight resistance, punching Beth Ann's cunt until the sheath was loose enough to take his cock with no problem.

She had her knees up, lifting her pussy higher and higher to meet the thrust of his cock, and she gasped each time he rammed, willing her cunt to open a little further and swallow the whole length of his rod. As it was, he was a couple inches short of getting his entire cock into Beth Ann's pussy, though he strained hotly against her as he struggled to sink his shaft totally.

But she could feel her cunt elasticizing, the more, the harder, he fucked her, and she moaned, knowing that soon all of her neighbor's stiff fat prick would be jammed into the tight but oh so hungry tunnel of her cunt.

"Damn you, fuck me!" she panted. "Let's teach your wife and my goddamn husband a real lesson!"

Exactly _how_ this would teach Paul and Sabra anything, Beth Ann didn't know. They didn't even know that their nasty secrets had been discovered, let alone that Sabra's husband was even now fucking the shit out of Paul's wife.

But the taste of revenge and cock was so sweet that Beth Ann didn't worry at all about the logic. All she wanted was the cock, and Jesus, he was giving her that, all right!

He had already made her come with his tongue and fingers on her pussy. His prick vibrated her clitoris into still another orgasm, hardly fifteen or twenty strokes past the beginning of the fuck.

She gasped and wrapped her arms and legs around him as they humped like warthogs on her living room floor, and she sucked his prick up her churning pussy, milking it with the hot excited rippling of her snatch. "Yes yes yes!!" she moaned.

He didn't stop fucking. His cock pronged her cunt with furious, lust-maddened insistence that sent fresh spasms of ecstasy through Beth Ann's twat. She folded her legs around his, took a death-grip on his shoulders.

Her body moved eagerly beneath Don's, and her pussy went insane with the continued thrust of his rigid, huge cock. His giant knob banged at the mouth of her womb and she willed it to open and suck him even deeper.

She had another climax, and she ached for the soothing feel of his cum squirting up her cuntal tubes. And even as the orgasm peaked, she could sense that another lurked just behind it, ready to send her body into further rapture with just a little more help from her neighbor's wonderful prick.

He kept on fucking. His selfcontrol was almost magical. Her pussy was like a mouth sucking the fuck out of his cock, and still he managed to prong her repeatedly, barreling into the muscle knots of her exploding cunt.

"Please," Beth Ann moaned, "please come ... I can't stand much more of this ... I'm dying to feel your cock squirting inside me ... I'm dying ... dying--"

Her eyes were 'way out of focus, but she saw the sudden contortion of his face, and she knew what it meant. "Yes, now," she gasped, swiveling beneath him, milking his cock excitedly with her orgasmic pussy. "Do it right fucking nowwww!!!"

"Ooooohh, shit, yessss!!!" Don hissed, and she felt his cum gushing within her cunt. He thrust, stabbed, each plunge of his cock coaxing another hot and thick squirt of sperm out of his bloated balls.

Beth Ann wailed as her pussy filled and overflowed, and his cock just kept on pouring the hot blistery seed into her excited hole. This is adultery, she thought. I'm married, and I just fucked another man. His sperm is hot and sticky inside my vagina. And oh, sweet Jesus, if his cock stays hard, I think I'll fucking do it again!!!!