Chapter 2

Marion's crotch was awash.

Cuntjuice had flooded from her, soaking her panties and jodhpurs, and seeping through onto the horse's back.

The horse was blowing as if they had been at a full gallop. He walked forward again, his head swinging from side to side. His prick had retracted back into his loins a bit, but a lot of the massive shaft still stuck out, semi-hard. His big cock knob was half sheathed by the foreskin now and pointing at the ground like some fleshy divining rod swaying up and down as it sought a hidden underground source of water. They walked on past the glinting drops of his cum that had fallen onto the trail, and under the other thick drops that had sprayed the trees and now hung from the branches.

Marion stared at the stuff.

The flavor of horse cum still lingered on her taste buds, kept hot by her saliva.

Marion was getting some very exciting ideas.

Ahead, young Jake turned his mount around a bend in the trail and, for a moment, was out of sight. Then Marion rounded the bend. She stared at Jake. He still looked attractive, tall and slim and wiry. She knew that a fit young man like that would be able to throw a great fuck into her. She knew it would be a lot of fun for her, to seduce a teenaged cowboy.

She still intended to.

But now a dark lust and deep depravity had overwhelmed Marion. She was having the most unholy urges. Her pretty face was flushed from the fires within, her green eyes glowed as if they were the glazed windows of a blazing furnace.

Yes, soon she would seduce Jake.

But she had a more immediate desire, a desire that overwhelmed her by its intensity.

Marion wanted to be alone with the horse!

Jacking him off with her feet had been such thrill that it had corrupted her mind and melted her inhibitions. But she had needed to be cautious, to make sure that Jake did not see what she was doing. And now she wanted to do it again, in solitude, so that she could concentrate completely on what she was doing without having to worry about her guide discovering her.

If it had been wonderful to do it with her booted feet, just imagine the thrill of jacking the horse off with her naked hands! Maybe letting him shoot his thick slime all over her belly and tits!

Maybe even--oh, the thrill of such depravity--maybe even letting him shoot in her face!

Marion was thinking fast and hard.

And she came up with a plan...

Marion Tremayne was twenty-six years old.

She had been married for five years, and it had been a happy enough marriage. She had met her husband, Jim, at college. She had not been a virgin when they met, but she had not been awfully experienced, either. Jim had been more experienced than she had, and he had fucked her on their second date. On their third date, she had given him a blowjob. He had enjoyed that so much that he asked her to go steady.

Soon enough, more by silent understanding than any spoken words, they became engaged.

When Jim graduated, they were married. They had a good sex life; Jim was an attentive lover, potent and blessed with a rather large prick, and Marion had never been known to have a headache at bedtime. She had never felt any desire to take a lover... at least, not to have an affair.

She had cheated on Jim twice, which she did not think was too much by present day standards.

Both times had been spur-of-the-moment flings, happening by chance rather than by plan, and she had gone to bed with these two men only one time each, without any emotional entanglements or any desire to see them again.

Purely physical, they were harmless, as long her husband never found out about them, she reasoned.

She had no idea if Jim had ever cheated on her. But if he had, she would have been reasonable about it, as long as it had not developed into a serious affair that might endanger their marriage.

The first time that Marion had committed adultery had been with a television repairman.

He had been young, hardly out of his teens, and he had arrived at the house to change a faulty wire at just the right time, when Marion's own system was on overload.

Marion had awakened that morning feeling very much like getting fucked. But when she reached out lazily in the direction of her husband's groin, she found the bed empty, although still warm and indented from his body. She heard the shower running. That meant that Jim was not yet dressed and she was still hopeful of getting some prick. Marion lowered the blankets so that her big, firm tits and stiff nipples were uncovered, then she waited for him to come back to the bedroom.

But when he did, he failed to take any notice of her sensual stretching and meaningful glances.

Barely glancing at her, he got dressed.

Marion was irritated.

And very horny.

But Jim left for work, giving her no more than a parting kiss and leaving her unfucked.

Marion had lingered in bed.

She was trying to make up her mind if she wanted to give herself a handjob or not. The idea of coming was pleasant, but she always felt rather silly when she did it. Finger fucking herself seemed childish, not the sort of thing that a happily married woman ought to have to do. Still, her pussy was demanding some attention and what other choice did she have but to rub herself off?

She had just started to stroke her cunt, taking her time and intending to make it a prolonged and leisurely handed, when the front doorbell sounded.

Who on earth could it be?

She pulled a frilly negligee on and, naked underneath the semi-transparent garment, went to answer the door. She had not dressed so provocatively for any devious reasons. She figured that it must be a salesman whom she could turn away, or perhaps one of the neighboring wives, with whom she would not need to be modest.

But it was the television repairman.

Marion had forgotten that he had been called. When she opened the door a crack and saw him standing there, she was embarrassed.

She had to let him in, obviously, but she wished that she had put something less revealing on. Should she ask him to wait for long enough to get sedately dressed? Well, hardly. Prompt television repairmen were rare and valuable... she could hardly leave him standing on the doorstep, where a passing stranger with a faulty television might kidnap him.

Marion opened the door.

Up until then, she had not really noticed what the man looked like, only that he was young and wore overalls.

But the moment she opened the door wide, the young man stared at her with such obvious surprise and admiration that Marion, in turn, took a closer look at him.

He was good-looking in a hard-faced fashion, with lank, sandy hair and nice gray eyes... and those nice gray eyes were popping out like hard-boiled eggs as he stared at her tits.

She flushed, aware that her nipples, still stiff from her interrupted masturbation, were standing out in prominent peaks against her negligee. And, in spite of her embarrassment, her taut tit tips were getting bigger under the man's gaze.

Then his gaze dropped to her lower belly.

Marion realized that the dark vee of her pubic mound could be seen through the sheer material.

At the same time, her own gaze dropped, and she saw that the front of the repairman's overalls had started to swell.

Flustered, she stepped aside to let him enter, trying her best to look unconcerned and unaware of his obvious sexual attention and the hard-on that accompanied it. He brushed past her, his arm lightly contacting her tit.

He looked as flustered as she felt.

Marion turned to lead him to the television. She could feel his eyes burning into her shapely ass as he followed her down the hall.

Leaving him with the faulty set, she went out of the room. The woman was in a strange mood, still horny from before and now aroused anew by the young man's undisguised desire.

Christ! Did he suppose that she was one of those lewd housewives that seduce strangers?

Marion figured that she had better get dressed.

She glanced into the television room again before going back upstairs. He was removing the back from the set, but he still sorted a big hard-on.

Marion turned away, dizzy with desire.

Oh, no! No, I mustn't, she thought.

She had never cheated on Jim before, and she was determined not to do it now, but her pussy was on fire. It was Jim's fault, she thought. If he had fucked me this morning, I wouldn't even be thinking of such a thing! I'm not going to do it, anyhow, but it's his fault that I'm thinking of it at all!

She was starting to justify her misbehavior even while she vowed not to misbehave. Marion decided to go upstairs and frig herself off before she got dressed, to remove the danger of her needs by hand, before she once again, confronted the repairman. Despite her good intentions, she did not trust herself in her horny frame of mind. The young man was awfully good-looking and, more to the point, awfully horny.

It had always turned Marion on to know that she, in turn, had turned a man on, especially a potent young man.

The brunette was halfway up the stairs when she stopped.

The thought of finger fucking herself was depressing.

She stood there, one hand on the railing, struggling with herself, trembling all over.

Then she sighed.

Marion knew that she was going to be filled with remorse and shame and guilt, afterward, but right at the moment, the woman was in the grip of a lust that she could not conquer.

Marion went back to the television room.

The young man pretended to be busily occupied with the mysterious inner workings of the television set as he looked at her secretly and blushed deeply. Marion stood over him uncertainly. She had made up her mind to seduce him, but she was new to this game. How did a woman go about such a thing? Should she come right out with it and ask him if he wanted to fuck her? Never! She could never force herself to ask something so bold and wanton. Should she wait for him to make the first suggestion? But he was evidently young and shy. What if he did not take the hint of her presence, her silence?

Actions, she realized, would come easier to her than words.

Trembling with shame and lust. Marion slowly slid the negligee from her shoulders, then let it drop in a flurry of silk around her feet. She stood stark naked over the youth.

He gasped and looked up.

His eyes burned into her once again, making her feel warm and wanted all through her body.

His mouth worked, but no words came out.

It was as if his vocal cords were as stiff as his prick.

It suited her.

Marion did not want to talk to the man, she wanted him to fuck her. She didn't even want to know his name. When he tried to speak again, she shook her head.

"Shhhh... don't talk," she whispered.

Then she knelt down beside him.

He groaned his whole body quivering, and the bulge in the front of his overalls pounded like a jackhammer. Marion opened his fly, and she drew his cock out. It was so stiff that it was jerking in her hand. She held it in her palm for a moment, staring at it, realizing that this was the first prick that she was going to have adulterously. Then Marion bent down, and she took his sweet, young cockmeat into her mouth.

She hadn't intended to blow him.

She just wanted to suck on his prick for a moment before they fucked.

But the repairman was so horny that, the moment she took a suck on his prickhead, he squirted his juices into her throat. Marion gasped and gulped. It was too late to stop then, nor did she want to. She nursed his cock, milked it dry and swallowed his cum.

When she drew her lips away, she was afraid that her greed had betrayed her and deprived her cunt of a fucking. But he had the potency and stamina of youth and, despite his climax, his cock remained as hard as iron as it sprouted from his fly.

Marion daintily wiped a drop of cum from her lips.

She lay back on the carpet, her knees lifted, and her thighs parted. The repairman still hadn't managed to say a word. He stripped his clothes off, and Marion watched as his smooth, almost hairless body was revealed. He mounted her and cupped her ass in his hands. She made hooks of her thighs and a cup of her belly. He slid his prick up her cunt and fucked her wildly.

There beside the broken television, they thrilled to the mutual joy of a simultaneous orgasm.

Afterward, he replaced the faulty wire.

At the door, Marion, averting her gaze, said: "I hope you don't think I do that sort of thing with everyone.

But he only grinned.

That, in fact, was exactly what he thought.

When she thought about it afterward. Marion was surprised to find that she did not feel ashamed of herself. The guilt that she had feared and expected did not come. She felt a little naughty, that was all. And she reasoned that, after all, no harm had been done. Jim would never find out she had gotten her rocks off and the repairman, whose name she did not know, had obviously enjoyed his part in it.

However, although she was pleased by her attitude toward cheating, Marion did not become promiscuous.