Chapter 1

As Helen Crump, the hostess for the cocktail party prattled on, Alice Carruthers sipped her wine and scanned the crowded room looking for her husband.

Kevin was a personable, gregarious successful sales executive. Alice was accustomed to him disappearing as he worked a room, glad-handing current and potential clients. With his extensive work-related travel, she was home alone a lot. She hoped this party with friends would give her some time with her husband of 30 years.

Alice was not beautiful in the classical sense. Her face was too round; her skin was not alabaster but ruddy and freckled. Her eyes were catlike, and a startling shade of green ... Her lips were full and sensuous.

Alice could never be mistaken for a catwalk model. She was a tall full figured woman at 5’ 7” and 200 pounds. She stood ramrod erect., causing her large breasts to thrust out like mountainous twin peaks. Her hips were broad; her behind was a bubble that rolled slightly when she walked.

“Helen,” Alice interrupted her friend, “have you seen Kevin? It seems hours since I last saw him.”

“Ahh, no, Alice,” Helen stammered nervously, “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere!”

Alice took a gulp of her wine and eyed her friend. Why was Helen nervous. “Well, I’m going to circulate and look for him. First, I need to use your upstairs bathroom. There’s a line outside the one down the hall.”

“Certainly!” Helen’s eyes flicked nervously around the room. “If I see him, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

Alice’s hand self-consciously touched the hem of her dress as she climbed the stairs. She was self-conscious about its the shortness. To please her husband, she agreed to wear the above the knee dress and no panties. She sometimes thought she indulged him too much. She felt the dress was too revealing for a woman her age. The bodice was elastic held up only by her large breasts.

She self-consciously smoothed the red dress with one hand while taking a sip of her third glass of chardonnay. She chided herself for letting Allen convince her to wear it. She felt so obvious, as though she were advertising herself. The red silk patterned thigh highs complemented the dress and Christian Louboutin shoes. The fact that she wore no panties DID make her feel a little wicked. Still, it was disconcerting to feel the breeze blow up her dress and between her plump thighs and over her cleanly shaven pussy

At the top of the oak staircase, she stopped, drained her glass, and set the empty glass on a lamp stand next to the stairs. For a moment, the hallway in front of her moved disturbingly. Three glasses of wine were well past her limit. She walked carefully down the hall, occasionally reaching out with one hand to balance herself. Through a partially open bathroom door, she thought she heard her husband’s voice.

“Kevin? Are you in there?”

She leaned forward, pushing the door open. She blinked several times at the tableau in front of her. She was unable to believe her eyes. Her best friend, Anne Marie, was leaning over the face bowl supporting herself with her hands. Her dress was pulled up on her back, her pink bikini panties were around her ankles.

Kevin stood behind her, holding her slim hips with both hands. His cock gleamed wetly as it plunged in and out of her glistening cunt. Stunned, more than a little high from the wine, Alice watched open-mouthed for several moments as they rutted.

“Come on, Kevin! Harder goddammit, harder! It’s your pussy! Take all of it!”

“You bitch! You good pussy bitch! You can’t get enough of my dick, can you? Your husband doesn’t fuck you like this, does he slut?”

The staccato sound of flesh on flesh and the wet squelching of Anne Marie’s pussy filled the tight confines of the bathroom. Sweat streamed down Kevin’s face moistening the collar of his Utuckit dress shirt. His face was a caricature of lust, almost Joker-like in its grotesqueness.

His mouth gaped open. The lips wet with a hint of spittle at the corners pulled back in an exaggerated grin. His eyes were mere slits, staring down at the foam covering his cock and Anne Marie’s ass. His hands firmly gripped Anne Marie’s slim hips, slamming them back into his crotch.