Chapter 14

Anita woke first. Rousing herself, she viewed in the morning light the remains of the previous night’s passion. Her and Caroline’s plan had succeeded beyond her wildest dreams. As soon as they had entered their room, John had set the lantern down on the dresser and pushed her back onto the bed. She had simply laid there, propped up on her elbows, hungrily eyeing him as he undid his pants and whipped out his immense cock. Without even removing his clothes he had climbed between her legs. Then tearing the nightgown from collar to hem, he had stuffed her pussy with his erection, slamming it in full speed. From the first instant his cockhead had slipped into her cunt, she had begun cumming, a long and endless orgasm that continued through a marathon fuck session. This wasn’t making love; this was raw animal passion. John hadn’t stopped fucking her and spraying her pussy walls with his seed until well after midnight, when, exhausted, they had finally collapsed in each other’s arms.

Now Anita surveyed the battlegrounds with pride and humor. The bedclothes were strewn on the floor at the foot of the bed, and even the sheet they were sleeping on was pulled up at one corner. John’s clothes were everywhere after she had stripped him during their second fuck. Her peignoir was in gauzy shreds by the pillows. It had been new and expensive, she thought, but well worth the price! Caroline’s bedroom slippers were by the door where she had slipped them off as they entered the room.

Now, John snored lightly, sprawled on his back in the center of the bed, dried cum and pussy juice matting his pubic hairs. Anita looked down at her own body. She, too, was covered with their dried and mixed juices, from her deep navel down to her thighs. She could also see the marks of passion on her breasts, love bites and finger marks, and even the beginnings of a hickey around her left nipple. She sighed contentedly and slipped into the bathroom.

This morning, Anita eschewed the shower and began filling the tub with hot water. Searching, she quickly found bath oils and bubble bath, and poured them in. After using the toilet, she gingerly stepped into the tub and sat, then leaned back and murmured in contentment.

Anita had been soaking almost a half hour when her husband bestirred himself and arose. Padding naked into the bathroom, he said, “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Morning, yourself,” she sat up and kissed him as he bent over the tub.

John looked back into the bedroom. “I guess we got carried away.”

Anita leaned back in the tub again. “It was worth it,” she sighed.

Looking down at his wife, John’s penis began to stir to life. As it slowly rose to half mast, he asked, “Want some company?”

Anita opened her eyes and looked at her husband’s rampant nakedness. Laughing, she said, “In here? There’s not enough room!”

“Sure?”

She flicked some bubbles at him. “I’m sure. Go take a shower.” John grumpily turned and headed for the shower. Anita noticed that his cock was now fully erect and showed no signs of subsiding. Over the sound of the shower, she said, “John? When we get home, I think I’m going to start that tradition again.”

Her husband stuck his head out the door. “You say something?”

“I said, that when we get home that I was thinking of starting that tradition again.”

“What? You mean like last night?”

“Um, hmm,” said Anita.

“You’d come downstairs in a nightgown? Every night? What about the girls?”

“Well, not every night, but sometimes. The girls don’t always stay up late.”

John looked at his wife in surprise. “Are you serious?”

Anita pouted at her husband. “John, you used to like it when I came downstairs in only my stockings and heels. Don’t you like my titfucks anymore?”

“Jesus, woman, you are something else!” John pulled his head back inside the door and resumed showering. Anita laughed and climbed out of the tub and began drying herself. She was almost dry when the shower stopped. John stepped out and began toweling himself off. Anita noted approvingly that his erection had not diminished.

Taking his hand, Anita led John back to the bedroom. She stopped before a low, backless love seat near one wall. Reaching up, she placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down. John grinned silently as she said, “Lie back.” He positioned himself on the couch as his wife straddled his waist. Sinking down onto him, she said, “Why don’t you think some more about that tradition.”