Chapter 6

Claire scowled when she saw Mike Rowley's pick-up truck parked in her driveway. What did he want? Well, she knew what he wanted, but what did he expect to get? Claire knew that she shouldn't have flirted with the man, that she had been a terrible cock-teaser, but that didn't give him the right to come around looking for pussy, did it? She set her jaw, determined to be firm and distant with the horny fellow. She marched into the house.

She stopped dead in her tracks, with a gasp.

Mike was sitting there, grinning, a drink in one hand and his huge prick in the other!

"How dare you?" Claire demanded... but her eyes were glued to the man's mighty weapon. Despite herself, she began to get hot at the sight of his potent cockmeat.

"I came to get laid," he rasped.

"I... I told you, Mike, I don't want to cheat on Harry - "

"Fuck Harry! You're a cock-teasing bitch, Claire... and I ain't the sort of guy that likes to get turned on and then teased. If you don't give me a fuck, I'm gonna tell your husband how you let me feel your tits and how you played with my prick."

"You wouldn't!"

"I sure as hell would."

"That's... that's blackmail!"

"Yeah - and your cunt is the ransom."

Mike had not failed to notice the way that Claire's eyes were fixed, fascinated, on his cock. Now he grinned and slowly ran his hand up and down his prickshaft, causing his cockhead to flare out in a meaty wedge and the dark vein to pulsate.

Despite her good intentions, Claire felt dizzy with desire as she stared at his thundering cock. She knew that it was going to be hard to resist him. Then, too, maybe he would tell her husband about what they had done. Wouldn't it be better to cheat on Harry, without his knowing about it, than to have him find out that she had almost cheated on him? Did blackmail justify it?

"C'mere, baby," Mike rasped.

Claire shook her head no, but even as she did so, she found that she was stepping toward him. She could not take her eyes off his cock. She felt like a bird that had looked into the eye of the serpent and could not look away or flee.

Rowley grinned at her expression, figuring that he had it made. He gave his cock another slow push-pull. It was towering up from his groin like a beacon, the knob bright purple, and Claire was being drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

She stood close before him, her hands clenched at her sides, emotions struggling in her mind and her body, good intentions wrestling with carnal urges.

"You like my prick, right?" he said.

"Y - yes. But I d - don't want it in me," she stammered.

"Bullshit," he snorted.

He hiked up, driving the tower of his fuck-tool up like a launched missile. A bead of pre-cum glistened at the tip.

"Suck it!" he snarled, certain now that he had her.

"N - no! No, I won't!"

"C'mon, baby - suck my cock. You know you want to," he urged, speaking softer now, persuasively.

"Maybe I want to but I'm not going to," she said.

He leered. His fist pushed down and his naked cockhead throbbed, straining and swelling. That bead of pre-cum slid down the dark purple slab. Claire watched it, her mouth watering. The pink tip of her tongue slid across her lips and Mike grinned.

"If... if I suck your cock and let you come in my mouth... will that be all right?" she asked. "I don't want you to fuck me but I'll suck you off if you want it... if you'll promise not to tell my husband that we were fooling around. Okay?"

Claire had decided that it was the best way out of the situation, as long as Mike agreed to it. Blowing him wasn't as bad as fucking him, she guessed, as far as infidelity went. Claire reasoned that she was justified, that it was the lesser of two evils to take him in her mouth instead of up her cunt, as long as her husband never found out.

But the truth, of course, was that Claire was drooling for Mike's cockmeat.

"Yeah! Gimme a blowjob!" Mike said, enthusiastically. "I won't tell old Harry if you drink my jism, baby."

Claire hesitated for a moment, then sighed and sank gracefully onto her knees in front of the seated man. He pushed his legs out and thrust his loins upward. The purple head of his prick was shaped like a mushroom and the fat, dark vein that seamed the underside of his cockshaft was as big as Claire's little finger. His balls were enormous. Although the woman was being forced to do this, she could not deny to herself that she wanted to do it, as well. She hungered for his tasty looking prickmeat and for the jism it held.

She blew her warm breath over his cockhead.

Mike worked his cock muscles, causing his big fuck-tool to throb. He was leering at her, looking over the head of his upthrust prick as if it were a gunsight.

Claire reached out and she folded her fist around the stem of his prick, squeezing, feeling the hardness and the heat. Then she slowly stroked his cock up and down.

"I ain't gonna settle for no fucking handjob," he snarled. "Use your mouth, baby. Suck me off with those sweet lips and that hot tongue and swallow my cum."

That, of course, was what Claire wanted, despite herself. She slid her hand down from his pounding fuckrod and cupped his balls.

She leaned closer.

She could feel the heat of his cock and balls waft into her excited face and she knew that her face was flushed and glowing. The cock-hungry wife had lost all her inhibitions now that she was so close to Mike's massive prick, her mouth watering for it.

Claire managed to smile, she said, "Oh, yes... I'll suck you off, Mike. I'll milk your prick and drink your cream."

"Yeah!" he grunted, aroused, perfectly happy to settle for a blowjob instead of a fuck... but thinking, too, that maybe he would make her fuck him afterward, as well. His blackmail had worked the first time and he figured it would be good again, that he would come over for a blowjob or a fuck whenever he felt like it.

Why, he might even fuck the cock-teasing bitch's asshole, he thought.

But there was no hurry. First he wanted to enjoy her mouth. He wanted to see his fat prick going in and out of that haughty, aristocratic face, between those lips that had denied him. He wanted to drench her with jism and watch her swallow the stuff, both for the pleasure of it and to humiliate the woman who had toyed with him and teased his prick.

He could see that Claire was getting enthusiastic about blowing him, however. He rather wished that she was more reluctant, that she was forced to do it without enjoying it, herself. But he knew that a woman gives better head when she is in the mood for it, and he was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Claire leaned in, pushed her tongue out and started licking his bloated, hairy balls. Mike groaned. His hard balls jiggled around inside the loose skin as she lathered his sac with saliva. The bitch knew how to tongue, all right! She knew that she shouldn't just pop it in her mouth and suck, but that she had to work up to it gradually.

She lifted his balls, tonguing under them.

"Yeah, lap my cockmeat, you bitch!" he rasped.

Claire began to lick up his prickshaft, her hot, nimble tongue slipping back and forth, tracing up the line of his dark vein. She fluttered her tongue against the underside of his knob, where it flared out from his cockshaft and the vein spread out into the fat, bivalved head. Mike moaned with the wonderful feeling.

"You cocksucker!" he growled. "Lap it up, bitch! Tongue my cockmeat, you cum-drinking whore!"

But he failed to humiliate the woman. Claire was far too aroused for that. She looked up at him, amusement showing in her eyes. "Yes, Mike," she purred. "I'm a cocksucker. I love sucking cocks. And I'm going to milk you to the bone, you bastard."

Lowering her face, she began lapping him from his balls to his cockhead once more, running her tongue up with moist, slurping strokes, then zigzagging it up and down. A nugget of jism squeezed from the tip of his prick and ran down his cockshaft. She lapped it up with her tongue, and he saw her throat work as she swallowed it. It thrilled him to know that some of his cum was in the elegant woman's belly, that he was defiling her with his jism.

"Ummm, yummy," she purred.

"Jesus! Suck it!" he rasped, humping up from the chair, afraid that he was going to blow his wad before he got his prick into her mouth. As he thrust up, Claire tilted her head and fitted her lips to the underside of his cockshaft, playing him like a flute. His cockhead was leaking steadily now, foaming with jism. Some of it stayed on the tip of his cock, frothy, like whipped cream lathering his dark purple prickmeat. The rest of it trickled down into her lips. Her mouth slid up and down, slurping the stuff up.