Chapter 7

Dick came slowly awake with the sound of dogs barking outside. He cocked one eye and stared up at the ceiling where a filigree of shadows was cast by the sun streaming through the ivy outside the window. He took a deep breath, slowly brought his hand out from beneath the covers, and stared at his watch. Nine o'clock. His prodigious yawn was cut short as he suddenly recalled the dream... about their hosts' wife!

He blinked. Yes, of course, it was a dream. He turned on his side and stared speculatively at the still sleeping Sue. In his dream Nora had been his wife... no, that wasn't right either. It had been Sue be made love to in his dream, only Sue looked like Nora? Was that it?

He smiled secretively. No matter. It was one helluva wet dream. Boy, he'd had women go wild under him before, but nothing like Nora in the dream. She'd fought him like a marlin trying to shake a hook; the hook had been his prick, and he'd let her run, then reeled in, let her run again, and then finally brought her to gaff -- panting and gasping. A real prize trophy. Tremendous. Unbelievably tremendous!

The dream had come tenuously. He remembered waking up next to Sue... only it really wasn't Sue, it was Nora. Oh, to hell with it, he thought; what does it matter. The dream was the thing! In the dream he had awakened to find himself stripped and lying next to his nude wife. It was the way he had been awakened that was interesting. His wife had been fondly stroking his cock, crooning over it, admiring its size and beauty.

She had kissed him, and her mouth was all honey and heat and tongue. And she had placed his head against her breast and fed him like a hungry infant. And then she had stroked his cock again and told him she wanted it deep inside her.

His wife had said, "With a cock like yours, I want a real bread and butter fuck, at least the first time. Tomorrow night, you're going to eat it. Tonight, though, you'll just fuck it till I go crazy."

The term had eluded him; he'd never heard it before. "A bread and butter fuck?" he asked.

"Honey," she had explained patiently, "a bread and butter fuck is a straight fuck. You on top of me with my legs wrapped around you -- nothing kinky... just plain old fashioned fucking. Bang... bang... oh, glorious bang!"

She bent her legs at the knees, placing her feet right up next to her buttocks. Then she spread herself for him. "Come on in... the water's fine," she crooned, her black eyes aflame with lust, and smiling wickedly through bared teeth. Her cunt was smiling too, its dark hair- lined vaginal lips already moist with its lust. And the clitoris standing like a campanile at the top of the quad.

He entered her with a rush. "Gaaaagghh." she moaned happily as the cock rode up like a nonstop express elevator. His balls slammed in against her asshole, bringing a low groan of pain-delight from his wife. Her legs uncoiled and then her calves were against his buttocks, her heels and toenails were used as spurs. She began grinding her ass into the mattress, making sharp little circular motions that were viciously exciting. He really didn't have much moving to do; she did most of it, arching her back and using her legs on his buttocks as though she were hanging from gymnastic rings. She was the master of the moment; she was the director, star, manager, boss. His hot penile shaft drove into the target, and with each new thrust, her open pussy became juicier -- the bullseye hotter. His wife was lying there -- taking it all... breathing heavily through nostrils that expanded and contracted like the diaphragm on an underwater breathing apparatus. "Slowly," she commanded, and it was a definite order, not to be disobeyed.

Suddenly there was a shimmering of consciousness, and a strange heat was on him. Always he had tried to be gentle, if possible. He didn't like the queenly attitude of his wife. Now for some sadistic reason he only vaguely understood, he wanted her to know that there was only one boss at a time like this -- the male! Actually, he wanted to hear her submit completely and actually plead for mercy. He withdrew his cock until only the head was still buried in the vaginal folds. His wife looked up angrily and said. "Keep going, you fool. I said, 'slowly', not stop."

He grinned down at her, then shoved forward as viciously as he could.

"Aaaa... gaaaaahhh!" she screamed, and he knew he was hurting her -- knew he was scraping and rattling like a runaway subway train along each dark bend and curve of her vaginal tunnel. He felt his cock abruptly slap up against the far wall of her uterus. He immediately withdrew it once more and slammed all its seven inch length into the covering hole. "Goddamnit," the woman moaned, "I said take it easy; you're hurting me." Now Dick felt as though he were a human pile driver. He had a massive steel beam which had to be driven through that quivering quicksand into bedrock. He began driving in -- without pity -- hearing her groan and moan beneath him. Once, their pelvises crashed together so hard that he was sure he had broken something. His prick had grown to astronomical size; it was as if it had a mind of its own -- a predatory destroyer rampaging through the warm jungles of her defenseless cunt.