Consolation Prize

"Rumor has it you could be in need of some consoling, John."

I vaguely recognized the soft voice, a barely audible combination of syrupy honeydew and husky seduction. Or so I hoped. I could have used some seduction in my life right about now.

I turned slowly, diverting my attention away from the soccer field full of adolescents where my son's coed team was playing against one of their rival middle schools. Presuming, of course, that there can be such a thing as a true rivalry in suburban middle schools.

The sun was bright and the Mid-Atlantic breeze was surprisingly warm on this late October afternoon. I was not disappointed, but exceedingly surprised, by what I saw when I turned, the owner of that voice.

Jayne Harrington. Yes, that Jayne Harrington. A full-fledged, first-ballot card-carrying member of the AMT. That's All-Mommy-Team to the uninformed, a soccer mom disguised as a MILF, or vice versa. Who just happened to be, quite possibly, the biggest cunt in town.

You see, Jaynie Lee Harrington was one of those moms who showed up at her kids' athletic events attired as if it were an excuse to show off the latest and most expensive fashion trends and accessories.

Which is exactly what it was for Jayne, married to perhaps the most prominent neurosurgeon in the state. Any public appearance, even something innocuous as a Saturday soccer game, was an opportunity to flaunt both her elaborate wardrobe to the other mommies and also her fabulous body to the less-than-subtly drooling daddies.

A stunning early-forties redhead, Jayne looked like a cross between Debra Messing of Will and Grace fame, and Christina Hendricks from Mad Men, perhaps less a bust size or three. Her personality, though, was pure Lindsay Lohan. Narcissistic, condescending, and self-absorbed.

In fact, the only person in town who was more universally loathed was her husband, Doctor Jim Harrington. Doctor Jim, you see, could never be bothered hob-nobbing with the masses at something as mundane as his daughter's soccer game. Even on weekends, he was usually off performing brain surgery, or rocket science, or some such scientific marvel.

Hence, Jayne's appearances at the kids' games were usually confined to sitting in her late-model BMW on the hillside parking lot and gazing down upon the activities like some royal highness on a veranda. But, hey, someone had to pick up her kid, right? So Jayne reluctantly attended to her maternal duties with this begrudging realization.

Jayne rarely, if ever, mingled with the other parents, honking her horn at her daughter at the conclusion of the game and speeding off to the bliss of her solitude, no doubt to fund the nearest mirror.

And that explains my profound surprise when I was actually spoken to by Jayne for the first time since I attended the annual Chamber of Commerce charity ball, about ten months ago, when we were seated at the same table.

My date that night was my now-former girlfriend, one smoking hot Hispanic lady, Marta Gutierrez. Marta resembled Salma Hayek, with one glaring exception. Marta's tits were much nicer than Salma's. And Christina Hendricks', for that matter. Marta was as tall laying down as she was standing up, and she was one of the few females on the planet who not only was not intimidated by Jayne, the two actually seemed to enjoy each other's company. Probably in the way that a female praying mantis gossip to another about their respective man-eating sagas.

In the last few weeks, Marta was kind enough to inform me that she was rising up the social ladder that she so diligently craved to climb, dumping me for the assistant attorney general for the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, who just happened to be an heir to the family's substantial real estate holdings.

I was acutely cognizant that Marta only enjoyed the pleasure of my companionship for one reason. "Seven-and-a-half inches of sausage-thick man meat." That was Marta's own description one evening as she struggled mightily to gobble me whole with her impossibly plump and moist lips.

Not that I minded being used as a sex symbol for my Brazilian bombshell. I always knew it was just a matter of time until some guy's wallet trumped my non-financial package.

Little did I know, until now, that Marta used that evening at the Chamber social to brag to her new bestest bud, one Jaynie Lee Harrington, the most intimate details of my girth and carnal stamina.

Before I could even open my mouth to reply to Jayne's comments about being "in need of some consoling", Jayne lowered her designer sunglasses which probably cost about as much as my monthly mortgage payment. This revealed her sparkling blue-green eyes, and she cooed, "Isn't that right, El Caballo? Marta traded your substantial talents in for some attorney? Tsk, tsk, silly girl. You most definitely could use a consolation prize, and I have quite the idea."

"El Caballo" was Marta's pet name for me. The Horse. I've come to realize there are two true blessings about being hung. One, you can tell how cold the water is before you jump in the lake. (And deep, too!) Two, women talk amongst themselves. They talk more than men, you can bet that. And when they find themselves a well-hung man, they aren't shy to share that fact with even casual female acquaintances, bragging about their sexual good fortune in a similar manner of a trout fisherman unexpectedly bagging the big one. But, like the trout, we all get thrown back sooner or later.

I intuitively knew already where this conversation was going. It was no secret in town that the two most despised people in town, Jaynie and Doctor Jim, detested each other as much, if not more, than the rest of us mere proletariats. And urban legend had it that Jayne took frequent 'stress-relieving' trips to the Big Apple to, um, sample the wares of the local young male New Yorkers, with very big apples.

"What's on your mind as a consolation prize, Jaynie?" My question was succinct. Talking is overrated, and besides, I realize that Jayne had no interest in what I had to say. Which was just fine with me. As I stated, I can play of the role of a sex symbol without the slightest blow to my ego, believe me. I'd rather be admired for my cock than my portfolio anyday. (Though I reserve the right to alter that way of thinking as I age.)

"The kids have that Halloween party at Sabrina's house tonight, from 6 to 10. My daughter is going, so I assume your son is as well?" I nodded in response to Jayne's inquiry.

"Good, then we have almost four hours. Why don't you come over after you drop Ryan off? You remember where the house is, I'm sure."

Everyone in the county knew where the Harrington's lived. It was located on a bluff overlooking the Schuylkill River and there wasn't another house within a half-mile.

I had one more question. Couldn't resist. "Where's Jim going to be tonight?"

I watched as Jayne licked her lips while unabashedly gazing at my bulging crotch, beginning to twitch beneath my jeans. "He's not invited. I'm hosting a very private party. Do you need to know more?"

No further questions, your honor, I thought to myself, guiding my Jeep up the winding tree-lined driveway at six-fifteen, the sky just turning black in the last week before daylight's savings ended.

Jayne answered the doorbell quickly, and greeted me with one of her exquisite outfits. It was tasteful, as always, but nocturnally slutty. A black shawl hung over her shoulders, eerily reminiscent of Elvira's, and covered her pale skin. She had on a silky ebony dress that was cut to show every freckle on her taut chest, obviously hard nipples peeking out beneath sheer, almost see-through material.

The dress hung just below her knees, showing her slim and shapely calves, and there was a slit on the right side that went up to her upper thigh. She wore a choker collar which served as the perfectly appropriate symbolism. Her beautiful auburn hair glowed and smelled like strawberries, hanging down over her breasts, serving as a paradox to the hint of foreboding carnal mischief that was about to ensue.

The naughty, married, red-headed witch, dressed as the devil's daughter, looked me up and down like a lone coyote about to consume her meal and said, simply, "Upstairs. I want you in Jim's and my bed. It hasn't seen much action lately. That's about to change."

Jayne took my hand and led me upstairs to the plush master bedroom, adorned with a luxurious four-post bed. When she sat down on the edge of the bed, she coyly pulled her dress up as high as it could go without totally exposing herself to me.

I stared at those beautiful legs and my face must have shown my lust because when my eyes went back to her face, she had that knowing sparkle in her eyes and a smile that could stop traffic. And cause dicks to rise. I sat down as close to her as possible and turned to face her. She put her arms around my neck and we were kissing immediately. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer to me, feeling her press her luscious globes into my chest.

I moved my hand up her side and let my thumb brush the side of her breast. She moaned softly, pulling back slightly so I had more access to her firm tit. If it is possible for a woman in her mid-forties to have perky tits, well, Jaynie Lee Harrington certainly had them. I cupped one and gave it some gentle squeezes. As I explored her soft mound, I felt her erect nipple piercing into my palm. Giving it a gentle pinch, she moaned, and kissed me harder. So, Jaynie's nipples were very sensitive, alert the media!

I continued to pay serious attention to her nipple through the fabric, but before I could get to the straps, she pushed me back and threw her leg over my lap, straddling me. This was a very sexual, wanton woman who knew exactly how to get what she wanted. But what she said next altered the chemistry. As she nibbled on my earlobe, she whispered, "You're only going to have me one time, and one time only, so you better live up to the advance publicity."

Now, when a man and a woman don't like each other to begin with, but have undeniable mutual sexual attraction, that can mean only one thing. That the exercises to come will turn into a contest, a sexual competition, rough, hard, marathon sex, no pretense of tenderness whatsoever. Where one will outlast the other, a clearly defined winner and loser.

And I was determined not to lose. No fucking way. Mrs. Harrington had met her match today, I told myself.

With her tits only inches from my face, she pulled the straps off her shoulders and let the dress slide down to her waist. I couldn't move. Even without a bra, they still had the same firmness that a woman half her age had...they were magnificent.

Her nipples were large, and hard as erasers. She took my hands in hers and held them firmly against her heaving tits. I took over from there, kneading her globes, pinching and lightly pulling on her nipples, eliciting a little squeal of delight from her. "That feels so good!" Her first concession to pleasure, off to a good start.

I began kissing one tit, teasing her by avoiding her nipple. She wanted me to suck her nipples so much that she tried to move so I would have to make some oral contact. Wanting to extend the teasing a bit longer, I just switched to the other tit.

"Please..." the sexy redhead whispered, "Please suck them." How could I refuse such a polite request? Especially when I knew what was in store for her eventually.

I took each perfect tit in my hands and brought one to my lips. Rather than take it quickly, I used my tongue to lightly tickle that erect little pink knob. She responded immediately with a loud "Mmmmm....I need this." I tickled one nipple, then the other. I flicked my tongue over each one, even pressing her tits together so her nipples were right next to each other, allowing me to gratify both of them at once.

She held my head and guided each breast to my hungry mouth. I opened wide and took one long nipple into my mouth. She cradled my head in her arms to be sure I didn't let up until she was ready.

I flicked my tongue in rapid fashion over her nipple while tweaking the other between my fingers. She let out a guttural groan and ground her crotch into mine.

After thoroughly satisfying one, she offered up the other. I repeatedly licked and sucked and tongued her round tits. I slid my hands off her chest and moved them down her back to her incredibly sexy ass. She sighed when my hands came in contact with her ass cheeks. I followed further down her legs to where fabric met skin and then back up, but now under her dress and then under the elastic of her thong to feel her hard, taut ass. She gasped as I pulled her bottom toward me, directly over my aching cock. I had no doubt she could feel my hardness because my own shorts were not constricting it at all.

She was grinding herself again as she released my head from her breasts. She reached down between us to finally feel the stiffness that was poking into her. When she got there, her eyes grew wide. She felt along the shaft and gasped, "Oh fucking my!"

She practically jumped off my lap and knelt on the floor wide-eyed. Without her on my lap, the tent formed between my legs was able reach its full potential. She reached out and stroked it with her palm. "You're.... bigger.... than..than I've ever felt. A lot bigger! El Caballo! Wow!"

With her free hand the married vixen went directly for the zipper and button on my shorts, deftly freeing me from my prison. I lifted my hips and she tugged the shorts down and off. Jayne threw them to the side, her eyes never leaving my hard cock, which was standing straight up.

I chose to go 'commando', since boxers of briefs seemed somewhat superfluous, knowing the task at hand tonight. She ran her fingers lightly up and down my shaft, admiring it, desiring it. She grasped it with both her hands and my big purple helmet was twitching 'hello'. Her hands stroked my cock very slowly, as I moaned my approval and felt some pre-cum ooze from my slit.

She leaned forward and lightly licked all around the head and then finishing with the tip, lapping up the clear liquid. She began licking and kissing the head much the same way I teased her nipples, lightly.

"Paybacks are a bitch, huh?" she cooed. "But well worth it," I replied.

She kissed her way down my shaft, and then rubbed my cock against her soft cheek. She looked up at me with that model-pretty face, her eyes shining with unbridled lust. God, that was driving me nuts. When she licked her way back up to the head, she was greeted with some more droplets.

She opened her mouth to take me in, and I watched as my head disappeared into her mouth. Unfortunately, not used to a bigger cock, she couldn't take me all in. She maneuvered herself to get into different positions, but to no avail. My thoughts were entirely on emptying my balls into this little vixens mouth, and soon, so I confess I grew a bit impatient when she stood up suddenly.

She kissed me again, long and hard, rubbing both small hands along my hard-on. She slithered the rest of the way out of her dress, then she lifted my t-shirt over my head. She ran her fingers through the tufts of hair on my chest, feeling my muscles spasm under her sensual touches.

Jayne positioned me at the side of the bed, while she climbed up onto it. She got on her back and let her head hang over the edge, her mouth now level with my cock. I was a bit confused until she reached out and pulled my cock toward her lips. "I will be able to get all of you this way" and she slowly pulled me into her. I noticed that in this position, it was a straight line from her lips down her throat.

Inch by inch my cock entered her mouth and I could soon see her throat expanding. It wasn't long before my balls were resting on her nose, and I was literally down her throat. She gently pushed me back out, I guess so she could breathe before filling her lungs, and pulling me back in, this time using her tongue more extensively.

"This is incredible," I groaned, unwittingly. I didn't want to concede the pleasure myself, but I hadn't had a blowjob quite this way before. With that, she smiled with my cock between her lips and raised the stakes. Her throat muscles closed around my cock and basically squeezed it.

I couldn't control myself and I starting pumping, fucking her hot mouth. She kept her hands on my hips, but did not slow me in any way. As I pumped away, I looked down her body and saw her tits jiggling with each thrust, moving in unison. Looking further, she had her legs pulled up, spread wide and I could see the wet spot puddling from under her thong panties.

Between this amazing blowjob and the sight of her body splayed before me, I lost it. I pushed my cock down her throat and felt my balls tighten, my cock throbbing, emitting a massive eruption of cum blasting down deep into her oral cavity. The first spurt gushed down her throat, but she pushed me back so that the following bursts would be in her mouth. She swallowed each one completely, holding the last one in her mouth to savor the taste.

This round most definitely went to Mrs. Harrington, it was unanimous on all of the judges' cards.

Feeling my knees going weak, I stepped forward and leaned against the bed for support. She sat up and, licked her lips seductively, and asked, "How was that?" Barely able to stand, much less talk, I replied "Unbelievable. Where did you learn that?"

With a cocky smile, "Oh, I like to practice different positions. You liked it?" We both laughed and she crawled up to the head of the bed and placed her head on the pillow, inviting me to join her. I mustered all my strength and fell into her arms giving her a very appreciative kiss, tasting the residue of my salty cum on her tongue. Feeling her sex-starved body pressing firmly against mine, I found some renewed energy.

I ran my hands over the length of her body, enjoying the softness of her skin and the involuntary reactions her body had to my touch. I bent down and kissed each of her tits again, suckling her nipples, before kissing my way south. Her breathing got heavier as I moved closer and closer to her pussy. Her legs spread for me as I positioned myself between them, peeling her thong aside.

When I finally saw her bright pink pussy, my dick sprang back to life. Her pussy was very well groomed, the pubic hair trimmed to form a perfect 'v'. Her clit was swollen and protruding, begging for some attention. As I knelt there admiring her body, she placed her legs up on my shoulders. I ran my hands up along her thighs to her calves and back down again. "You have the sexiest legs!"

"Thank you. I can't wait to wrap them around you, El Caballo. Your third leg is incredible." Hmmmm, a compliment. I was beginning to warm up to Jaynie Lee a bit, even maybe liking her, just a teeny bit. Perish the thought.

I stood and grabbed both of her ankles, dragging her to the end of the bed so that the bottom half of her body dangled over the side and began kissing her gams, starting at the lean, muscular calves, toned by hours in the gym. I made my way to her inner thighs and couldn't take my eyes off my prize, her dripping wet pussy. Her sweet earthy scent was driving me fucking crazy. The closer I got, the louder her moans became. "Mmmm, yes...hurry."

I cupped her tight asscheeks with both hands, raising her up slightly. I flattened my tongue and gave her cunt a big lick. Remembering the teasing I received, I avoided touching her clit, instead driving her wild by kissing and licking her lips. She was definitely a moaner!!! I would alternately push my tongue inside her wet hole then lick her lips, making her whimper with delight.

"Uuuuuggghhhh, oooooooooohhh, mmmmmmm, that is so good. Ooooooooo!" Without warning, I roughly tugged at the string on her thong and ripped it to shreds with one violent pull. She squealed, and I wasn't certain whether it was in delight or consternation, knowing that a two-hundred dollar thong was history. Probably a little bit of both, I shrugged, continuing my march northward.