Chapter 1

When Jack Norton climbed into bed, Laura moved over close to him and reached out to take his limp prick in her hand affectionately.

“Not tonight, Laura,” Jack sighed, moving away. “I had a bad day and I’m really bushed. Goodnight, dear.”

Laura was so mad she wanted to scream at her husband. She wanted to dig her fingernails into his useless, rubber like cock until he bled. It was the same damned thing night after night, month after month for the last two years.

She dug her fingernails into her palm, took a deep breath to control her temper, turned away, and whispered, “Good night.”

Within minutes, Jack was snoring. Laura adjusted her pillow and changed positions in her search for sweet Morpheus. Her cunt itched, burned with frustration and desire, but she forced herself not to think about her physical being. She turned again, desperately seeking sleep, but it continued to elude her.

Finally, Laura gave up and slipped out of bed. She thought about getting a robe out of the closet, but the house was warm and she didn’t want to wake Jack. Somehow, walking naked through the house tonight seemed terribly inappropriate!

Closing the bedroom door, Laura walked into the bathroom and turned the light on. The first thing she saw was her naked body reflected in the full length mirror.

Laura stood appraising herself for a long moment. At 35, her body was well preserved. She had never had to worry about her weight. She was as slender today as she had been in high school. She was five-nine and her body was full without being angular.

Her breasts, which had always been her best feature, were full and heavy. Laura studied them in the mirror. She reached up and cupped her breasts in her hands to lift them and the contact reminded her of the strong need in her body. How she needed a hard cock driving into her cunt. How she would love to have one in her mouth, sucking it for all she was worth.

Laura Norton was an attractive woman. In high school she had often been called a brunette Debby Reynolds and the resemblance was still evident. Her jet black hair shoulder length had retained its natural silky softness over the years.

Sighing, she walked into the living room and began searching for a cigarette. She found one in a crumpled pack on the end table and lighted it.

For some reason this thing with Jack had reached the crisis point tonight. They had been married for seventeen years, since Laura graduated high school and Jack graduated from Baptist University in Old York City at 22. The first eight years had been a prolonged honeymoon. At that point they had fallen into a routine that made the next seven years somewhat pleasant. But the last two years had been hell for Laura. Jack had simply lost interest in her sexually. Or was it that he was indulging himself in a series of affairs? Laura often wondered about that. Was he getting his sex outside? She had suspected a number of times that he was playing around with his female staff, but she had either forced that ugliness out of her mind or been unable to find anything in the way of evidence.

Laura wondered if she was oversexed. Was it normal for a woman her age to think about and yearn for sex so much? The male sex organ was so much on her mind she often caught herself studying men’s crotches while out shopping or at church.

Her thoughts returned to her husband and her suspicion that he was playing around. They owned an alcohol import business called Jack’s Imports. He imported beer, wine, and spirits from around the world. Laura didn’t think it was strange that the majority of his employees were female.

She searched her brain for any new woman in his life. There was no one, well there was one. Candy Delany, the eighteen-year-old daughter of their friends, Mike and Mary Delany. Mike was an associate pastor and as a favor to them, Jack had hired Candy for the summer until she went off to college. She started out as a file clerk the first week, but now she was acting as Jack’s secretary while Betty Morrow was on summer vacation.

Laura had always thought it absurd to name anybody Candy, but she had to admit that Candy Delany certainly lived up to her name. She was a gorgeous, auburn haired girl with a luscious face and figure. But Candy was 18, much too young for Jack who was 39. And there was no one else.

She stopped her nervous pacing of the room and returned to the end table to take the last cigarette from the pack and light it as she sat down on the couch.

Laura hated to face it, but it seemed obvious that she was simply no longer desirable sexually. What other explanation could there be? How unfair it was when her desires and needs were stronger than they had ever been in her life.

‘Maybe working again will help turn me around,’ she said to herself. Laura had volunteered to help with their church foster care program the year before. She had always wanted children, but Jack would have none of it, not even when she suggested that they become foster parents. Jack simply didn’t want children around the house.

The 50,000 member Baptist Congregation, The Way, had a program that assisted teen boys in the transition to foster homes. So Laura had volunteered to help. She had worked hard as she initiated a program of taking a small group of boys to her home during the day to teach them the proper attitudes about living in somebody else’s home. The program had ended last summer and little had been said about Laura’s contribution. Then after church leadership looked at the surveys and analyzed the results it was learned that the boys Laura had worked with had an infinitely better rate of adjustment in foster homes.

Pastor Jim approached Laura two weeks ago and offered a permanent position with full salary. She was to begin work the next day and she was both excited and apprehensive about the prospects.

‘Maybe it will take my mind off the seemingly constant crisis I’m faced with,’ she thought. Just the thought of her crisis brought her mind back to her body. She reached over to stub the cigarette out and accidentally brushed her arm against her breast. The contact of her flesh against her sensitive nipple sparked the coals between her legs.

What she wouldn’t give for a nice, hard cock. She closed her eyes for a moment and let her imagination fix on a male penis. She could see the shaft gracefully curving upward toward the swollen pink head. She could see the blue veins pumping their hardness through the gorgeous organ, the balls hanging beneath a tear of lust forming in the eye at the tip.

Laura opened her eyes and shook her head in an attempt to cast off these erotic longings. Her eyes carefully swept the room and the hall. Her ears listened to the night sounds of the house. After a moment she heard the rhythmic cadence of her husband’s snoring in the bedroom.

Jack is still asleep, she told herself with a sigh of relief. The itch between her legs had become a desperate burning now and Laura reached down to touch her smooth cunt.

The contact of her finger on her sex sent a shock wave of desire coursing through her body. She shook her head telling herself over and over, ‘it’s a sin’. but all the time her fingers worked their way around her cunt and into her slit.

‘It’s just me here and I’m not hurting anyone. The church doesn’t have to know, they don’t have to know a lot of things. Why not?’, she asked herself.

Laura spread her legs wide apart and slid her fingers into her already moist slit. She began rubbing up and down the length of her crack and then began caressing her erect and quivering clit.

“OOoooohhh!” she moaned as she began masturbating in earnest.

The next day Laura was surprised to find that three of the people she had worked with last year were still on the staff. Carl Mersh, the church outreach director, and two teen girls were the only familiar faces. The rest were all new, mostly young men from the seminary on internship.

“Your in-home daytime training,” Carl Mersh told Laura, “seemed to work miracles from the standpoint of stabilization. We’ve had very few complaints from the foster parents where your teens were placed.”

“As I told you, Carl,” Laura said with a smile, “I didn’t do anything special.”

“Nevertheless, Laura, what you did worked. And that’s what we have in mind now. I gather that you had no structured situation when you took the teens home?”

“None whatsoever,” Laura laughed. “Sometimes we’d work on table manners, how to use the fork and knife and ask for things politely. I made a game of it. Then other times we’d go swimming in our pool and talk about how it was just as difficult for the foster parents as it was for the children in a new situation. Other times I’d work on neatness, teaching them how to keep their bedroom and how to treat a bathroom. Oh, and I often harped on taking care of clothes.”

“That’s a good point,” Carl remarked. “Often teens have nothing of their own. Then, when they acquire possessions like clothes, they lack the appreciation necessary to take care of them.”

“That’s what I thought,” replied Laura.

“Well, I want you to do exactly what you did last year,” Carl commented, standing up to indicate that their interview was coming to a close. “I’m afraid you’ll have to keep it structured because it may lose its value, but I would like you to start keeping notes on what you do.”

“Should I keep notes on the individual boys as well?”

“I think that might be helpful,” Carl agreed. “We can add your notes to the boy’s file. Nothing detailed. The psychologist will take care of that. Just your own brief impressions. Now, you’ve met the new members of the staff?”

“That’s what I did all morning.”

“Good. And you’ve seen the boys on hand at present?”

“Barely. Pastor McGrudder took me through and told me a little about each of them.”

“Well, that should be enough for today. Tomorrow, you may begin your special program. I’ll have the pastor pick out several of the boys who are about to be placed. Now, I have a busy schedule this afternoon, so why don’t you call it a day and we’ll see each other in the morning?”

“Fine,” Laura said, accepting the older man’s hand.

It was just after three when Laura climbed into her car. She was quite pleased at how the day had gone, and quite relieved that they hadn’t expected something from her that she might not be capable of doing. In fact, Laura was very happy.

She decided to drive downtown and drop in on Jack at his office. She hadn’t done that in years. And his office wasn’t far from the church.

It was warm, one of those sunny Northeastern days that served notice of the sweltering heat to come in the summer months. Laura closed the windows of her two-year-old EV and turned on the air conditioning.

Laura was wondering where she should park near her husband’s office on B Street when she suddenly saw his green Fusion convertible emerge from the underground parking in his building. She was about to honk at him when she noticed that Jack was not alone in the car. The top was down on the Fusion and the soft auburn hair blowing in the breeze left no doubt in Laura’s mind about who was with her husband. It was Candy Delany. They probably quit early and he’s driving Candy home, Laura told herself. But why so early? Jack almost never came home until six. Maybe they just finished early today.

Laura was five cars behind Jack and was about to pull into the left turn lane and turn on her blinkers at Fourteenth Street when she saw that Jack was continuing down B Street. Where in the devil are they going? Laura wondered. She hesitated for a brief moment and then decided to follow. Laura felt a little guilty as she stayed behind his car. She’d never done anything like this before.

Jack turned right on Larson Street and headed for the freeway. Staying almost a mile behind with the car barely in sight, Laura followed in her EV.

It wasn’t until Jack turned off the freeway and made a complicated series of turns that led to an old highway along the river that Laura had an idea where they might be going.

They had an old cabin cruiser boat they kept docked at what had once been a private camp on an inlet off the coast of the Atlantic. The club had fallen on bad times and was now open to the public, but only a few die-hards kept their boats there. The monthly fees were cheap enough to allow Jack to keep their old 80 foot cabin cruiser moored there.

They had bought the boat not long after they were married and for the first 5 years they struggled to keep up the payments. Laura had given up suggesting that they sell it. Although she seldom set foot on the boat, Jack liked to use it occasionally for fishing and company parties out on the ocean.

When Jack turned onto the county road that wound up the inlet, Laura was certain that they were headed for the boat. She thought quickly and continued along the river road and came into the dock the back way. That way her approach would be covered by a thick screen of brush that had grown around the old club house that was rarely used.

Laura arrived in time to see Jack pull into the trees along the river and park. ‘Why didn’t he park by the dock,’ she asked herself. The place is deserted. The answer hit her like a flash of lightning. He doesn’t want to be seen on the property cameras.

She watched her husband climb out of the car and walk around to open the door for their friend’s 18-year-old daughter. “The bastard never opens my door,” Laura mumbled aloud while she watched them walk toward the pier.

Jack climbed aboard the boat and offered his hand to help the pretty young girl aboard. Then they disappeared into the cabin.

Laura was both angry and curious. She opened the door of her EV as quietly as she could and got out. Not risking the sound of a door closing, she left the EV door ajar and began walking very quietly toward the boat. She cautiously stayed behind the brush and trees as long as she could to avoid being seen.

She stood for a long moment at the end of the trees studying the situation. If she walked along the dock, there was little chance she could be seen from the boat. And if she could get onto the lower landing, she might be able to see through the porthole.

Laura crept along the dock and very quietly stepped down to the lower part of the dock. She pulled herself up on the lower landing with stealth.

She could hear voices inside the cabin as she crept quietly along side the boat. Laura smiled to herself when she peered into the porthole at the bow and realized that she was looking into the tiny, cramped head. It was empty.

Laura moved down the side of the boat until she came to the porthole over the two sleeping bunks. When she raised on her toes to look inside, Laura’s heart almost stopped beating.

Her husband and 18-year-old Candy Delany were in the cabin. Both were stark naked. Jack was stretched out on his back on the bunk and Candy was squatting over his face with her cunt pressed against his mouth.

The anger raging through Laura’s system caused her to clench her fists until her knuckles were white. Jack had never eaten her cunt, never in their 17 years of marriage. Yet here he was licking Candy’s cunt.

And from the expression on the teens face, Laura had no doubt that Candy was enjoying every second of it. The lids of the young girl’s eyes were half-closed and her mouth was open.

“OOOooohhh, Mr. Norton!”

The young girl’s moan of pleasure was muffled by the closed porthole, but Laura could hear her loud and clear.

“Oh! OH! Oooh, Mr. Norton! I love the way you’re fucking eating me!”