Just Add Alcohol Ch. 01

Three minutes later, the ride having passed in silence, the Wolley taxi pulled up in front of the SkyBridge condominium tower. Andrew slid out and offered a hand to Tracy. He grasped her manicured fingers, staring at the preposterously large diamond of her engagement ring as he pulled her from the cab.

Tracy followed the young man through the doors and across the lobby to a waiting elevator. Once inside, Andrew pushed the button for the 24th floor and the doors swooshed shut. The cab ride and the harsh lights of the lobby and the elevator had served to sober her up a little.

"You live here?"

"Nah. My parents bought it for when they want to come into the city for the weekend. I use it on the weekends, too," he explained, moving closer to the married woman, his muscular body brushing up against hers. Her chest heaved and her massive breasts squished into his arm.

"Your parents aren't here this weekend, are they?" she whispered as his arms encircled her waist, pulling her into him.

"No way. It's just you and me." Andrew leaned into woman and their lips met. The overwhelming smell of alcohol was apparent to each of them. He pushed her against the wall of the elevator and slid his leg between hers, grinding his knee against her crotch, his tongue sinking into her hot mouth.

She moaned at this forceful display, but pushed him away. "Not here," she panted. "Wait until we get inside." The elevator dinged as the last word escaped her throat.

Andrew led her down the hallway and into the 2,500-square-foot pied-a-terre. He held the door for her and followed her in, the heels of her Blahnik's cracking on the hardwood floors. Before she was five feet into the apartment, Andrew caught up with her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. His mouth quickly found her ear and he nibbled lightly at her lobe, sucking the flesh and the diamond stud mounted in it into his mouth.

Tracy melted into the young man's arm, leaning back against him. She raised her tanned arms above and behind her, capturing his head and pulling herself closer to him. Stretched this way, her Gaultier top lifted and exposed her taut stomach to Andrew's roaming hands. With no hesitation, the large hands slid slowly up her flesh beneath her top, stopping only when they were filled – overfilled – with Tracy's warm, saline-injected breasts.

Andrew marveled at the way the flesh filled his palms. He squeezed the massive breasts, feeling them squish between his fingers. The conditioned air of the apartment combined with the young man's manipulation of her breasts caused her nipples to stiffen. "Always go braless?" he inquired into the married woman's ear.

"Don't need 'em," she panted. Still behind her, Andrew released the heavy orbs and lifted Tracy's top upward, pulling it over her head. Her ponytail caught on the fabric and he had to pull it free, dropping the top to the floor. With his left hand in the small of her now-exposed back, he prodded the woman toward the living room. He followed her as she paused before the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the Kennedy Expressway and the Chicago skyline.

"Great view," she muttered, feeling the presence of the young man behind her.

"I got a better one from here," he said, again encircling her waist from behind. He nuzzled into her neck, sending chills down her spine. A moan reverberated from her throat as Andrew pushed her closer to the glass wall, his large hands cupping her massive breasts, thumbs and forefingers tweaking her nipples further into erection.

Tracy braced herself against the window, sliding her hands up the glass. The back of her engagement ring clinked against the glass as Andrew twisted her left nipple ninety degrees and held it there. "Oohh, gawd," she groaned.

"You like having your nipples teased?" Andrew was whispering in her ear, his hot breath tickling her.

"Nooo," she whimpered.

"Feels like you do," he taunted the married woman, twisting her right nipple. The heat from her nipple flesh seemed to sear into his fingertips.

"I shouldn't be here," she whispered, barely audible.

Andrew thrust his hips against Tracy's bottom. "Where should you be?" She grunted at the forceful contact.

"Not here," she managed, pushing back at him, trying to get him to move away from her. "I'm married, Andrew. I shouldn't have come here with you."

Andrew released the woman and stepped back. As much as he wanted to fuck this big-titted slut, he wasn't about to rape her. He decided to try a different tack. "Sorry. Maybe I moved too fast." Tracy turned around to face him, her gargantuan breasts still on display, the creamy white flesh set off by the bronzed skin beyond the crisp tan line. "Have a seat. I'll get you a drink."

When Andrew disappeared into the kitchen, Tracy looked at the Cartier watch encircling her wrist. It was only 11:00. She debated walking out the door while he was occupied in the kitchen.

But she didn't do that. Instead, she sat down on the couch, her breasts still hanging free, and took in the skyline, waiting for him to return. She heard a refrigerator door slam shut and then the clinking of ice cubes. A moment later, Andrew returned to the living room with two drinks. He offered her one before sitting next to her on the couch. He kicked his Gucci-clad feet atop the coffee table and leaned back, putting his left arm behind her on the back of the couch. Tracy snuggled into his open arm.

"You want your shirt?"

"I'm fine," she responded, taking a sip of the vodka, swallowing. Thick nipples protruded from her breasts, beacons on the irregular triangle of white flesh.

"You ready to stay?" Tracy just looked up at him, her green eyes sparkling in the faint glow cast from the recessed lighting. She brought the tumbler to her lips again, nodding.

Andrew set his glass on a side table and leaned toward her, kissing her lightly on her shiny lips. Her perfume wafted up to his nose, but was quickly overpowered by the smell of alcohol. When she didn't pull back, he kissed her harder, mashing her full lips and smearing her lip gloss. Her wet, pink tongue darted out and danced across his lips, and Andrew responded in kind, sinking his tongue deep into Tracy's mouth. He crossed his right arm across her body and cupped a heaving breast, his fingers brushing against the thick nipple.

Encouraged, Andrew scooted away but then leaned back toward her, resting his head almost in her lap. He ran a tongue over the soft yet firm flesh of her right breast, licking at her pink areola. Her distended nipple pulsed as his tongue washed over it. "Amazing tits," he muttered before sucking the nipple between his lips, nibbling at it with his teeth.

"They should be," Tracy responded, taking a drink from her tumbler. "I paid enough for them." Her drink still in her left hand, Tracy leaned to her right. She brushed her fingers across the front of Andrew's pants, feeling for his thickening cock. It wasn't hard to find, and she used her long, manicured nails to exert pressure on his flesh. Dragging her nails up the length of his shaft, she paused at his belt buckle, pulling it and the button beneath it free. With Tracy tugging at the fabric, his zipper fell with an audible sound.

Andrew trapped an inflamed nipple between his teeth. "Mmmm," she moaned, savoring the pressure on the distended bud. Tracy's hand wormed into his pants and through the hole at the front of his boxers. Her long cool fingers closed around the aching shaft, pulling it from the confines of his underwear.

Andrew moaned at the contact, lifting his ass from the cushion as if to push more of himself into her fist. Taking another sip of pure vodka, Tracy's eyes were locked on the thick shaft, pre-cum leaking from the slit. Her small fist engulfed only half of the twitching rod.

Andrew kept his head buried in her bloated chest, licking around her nipple, teasing it with his tongue. Sucking it back into his mouth, he pulled the distended flesh between his teeth, biting lightly.

"Mmmmm," Tracy moaned, increasing the speed of her hand as it shucked up and down the swollen shaft. "Feels sooo goooood." Andrew bucked his hips into her tightly gripping fist, increasing the pressure around the base of his cock.

Without warning, Tracy released him and brought her open palm to her mouth. She coated her tongue in saliva, and ran it across her palm. Before Andrew could protest the absence of her palm, her warm and now lubricated fist was back around his shaft, stroking him. He sucked harder on her nipple, scraping his teeth against the sensitive flesh.

The air conditioning kicked on with a low hum. The only other sound in the apartment came from Tracy's watch band and bracelet jangling against each other. She increased the speed of her hand shucking up and down on his cock, and the back of her engagement ring caught on the thick, pulsing veins that crossed the pink flesh of Andrew's swollen cock. His hips bucked uncontrollably and his teeth bit harder on her nipples.

"Oh, shit," he mumbled through the titflesh that was molded to the contours of his face.

Tracy's stroking turned brutal as the pressure on her nipples increased. The ice cubes in her drink, still in her left hand, clinked against the glass walls as her entire body shook. Andrew's movements became erratic and the nipple slipped from his mouth as he panted, "Oh, fuck, oh, fuck," begging for release.

But Tracy slowed her hand and her long, manicured fingers relaxed, loosening her grip on his shaft. "I don't want you to come yet," she whispered.

Andrew lifted his head from her lap and sat upright, resting against the back of the couch as he caught his breath. "Get on your knees . . . and suck me."

As crude as he was, Tracy merely smiled and slid from the couch to the floor. She placed her tumbler on the coffee table and crawled between Andrew's legs. Grabbing at the waist of his pants, she pulled them and his boxers over his hips, her engagement and wedding rings sparkling in the soft light shining from above.

"Nice rock," Andrew commented. "Your husband know what you're like?"

"Shut up about my husband," Tracy warned, her sparkling green eyes still fixed on his waving cock. She managed to maneuver his pants around his ankles, and then pulled his shoes and pants off, tossing them to her side. She leaned closer to the burgeoning shaft, glowing almost red from the brutal handjob. She wrapped her left hand around him and brought her lightly made-up face closer to the shiny head. Extending her wet pink tongue, Tracy slid the purple head over its surface.

Andrew watched her wanton display from his reclined position. 'What a nasty fuckin' whore,' he thought to himself. Out loud, he commanded, "Suck it, bitch."

Tracy pursed her full crimson lips around the tip of his cock, her tongue flickering at the shiny purple head. With her right hand, she cupped his hanging balls, rolling them back and forth between her long fingers. Her manicured nails tickled his nutsack and, occasionally, his perineum.

Andrew arched his hips, thrusting toward her beautiful face. His aching shaft slipped between Tracy's tightly pursed lips, rolling the foreskin back and stretching it taut. She dropped her face toward his crinkly pubic hair, taking the engorged shaft into her throat with nary a gag.

Keeping her slutty lips tightly closed around the trembling shaft, she bobbed her head up and down. It pulsed in her mouth, blood coursing through the thick veins criss-crossing the stretched flesh. Saliva collected in her mouth, coating the thick shaft, and dripped from the seal formed by her full lips.

"Oohh, fuck," Andrew muttered. "If I were your husband . . . I'd be home . . . every weekend . . . fucking your . . . pretty little face."

Tracy popped the swollen rod from her mouth but maintained her grip at its base, squeezing hard as she stroked up and down. Her emerald eyes flared with anger as they bore into him. She lowered her face and her tongue slithered out against Andrew's balls. "I told you," she began, her face partially obscured by her fist sliding up and down the shiny shaft, "to shut the fuck up about my husband."

Andrew scooted his hips forward, stopping as his ass cheeks came to rest at the front edge of the couch. Tracy, her face still buried below the root of his cock, sucked a ball into his mouth, rolling it around her soft tongue. Her right hand pushed his left leg away, giving her room, and her left hand viciously stroked the upright shaft.

Releasing the ball from her wet mouth, Tracy moved to the next, offering it the same treatment. Saliva dripped from Andrew's scrotum as she let the second ball fall from her painted lips. Pre-cum leaked from the tip of his cock head, aiding her brutal tugging. Tracy bent again and took both balls into her mouth at the same time. Her crimson nails were a blur on the blood-engorged shaft as she rolled the balls around her mouth, her wet, pink tongue laving over the loose flesh.

Andrew's hips bucked faster, slicking his shaft deeper into Tracy's fist. Feeling that he was on the verge of dumping his cum over her tightly gripping fingers, she slackened her grip on him and spit his balls from her sucking mouth. She released his shaft and watched as it sprung back against his stomach before returning upright.

Tracy wiped saliva and pre-cum from her full lips with the back of her left hand, coating the diamond of her engagement ring. The feel of the diamond across her lip reminded her briefly of her husband. She knew what she would feel in the morning: regret; guilt; remorse. Nonetheless, any thought of fidelity was long gone. A liter of Vodka has washed it away.

Tracy rose from her haunches and twisted behind her to retrieve her drink. Swallowing, she turned back to Andrew and lifted first one over-inflated breast and then the other, resting them on his thighs, distended nipples throbbing.

"Wanna titty-fuck me?" she asked with a sly smile. Without waiting for an answer, her manicured hands came up to cover her monstrous tits, pushing them around the thick cock.

Andrew watched as his pinkish cock was swallowed in a sea of creamy flesh, Tracy's manicured nails holding him in tightly. She dipped her head and allowed saliva to dribble from her crimson lips into the bulging cleavage. Looking up, she smiled at Andrew and lifted her bulbous mounds up the sides of his shaft, sliding them back down.

She leaned into him further, her tits packed tightly around the twitching cock. Her thick nipples pulled along his muscular thighs. The wet heat and pliant flesh of Tracy's store-bought tits had Andrew bucking into her again in no time, his eyes screwed shut. Teasing the young man, she released her mounds and stood.

Andrew's hooded eyes eased open to Tracy's diminutive frame standing before him. Her crimson nails grasped at her Chanel belt and released it, then pulled the buttons of her jeans free. She leaned forward to shimmy the form-fitting jeans down her athletic thighs. Her pendulous tits swung to and fro, the flesh on their sides rippling.

As her jeans fell, Tracy kicked her Blahnik pumps from her little feet. The first clattered along the hardwood floor, coming to rest near the kitchen. The second merely fell behind her, underneath the coffee table. Hurriedly, she kicked off her jeans, tossing them to her left where they landed on one of the side chairs.

With deliberate slowness, the adulterous wife hooked her manicured fingers in the sides of her black silk thong, the four-and-a-half carat diamond mounted on her left hand glittering in Andrew's eyes. "Ready to fuck me?" she whispered, easing the thong over her hips, exposing a vagina lasered to remove all vestige of hair. A light coating of dew shone on her distended lips. The silk hissed as it slid down her thighs on its way to the carpeting beneath her feet.

"If your husband won't, I will."

Tracy almost jumped on Andrew's lap, knees to either side of his hips. His cock slid along the slick channel formed by her lubricated vaginal lips, brushing against her clit. Her manicured fingers grabbed the back of his head, the nails scraping along his scalp. She pulled his head back and hissed at him, "Shut . . . the . . . fuck . . . up . . . or . . . I . . . leave!"

Andrew quickly adjusted himself beneath her and felt his thick cock brush against her soaking vaginal lips. When the head slipped between her damp folds, he arched his hips violently upward, spearing the married woman with his pulsing shaft, causing her to yelp in surprise.

He rolled to his right, carrying her with him, planting her on her back in the corner of the couch. Andrew's forceful response to her threat caused Tracy to lose her grip on the back of his head and she sank into the deep cushions of the couch.

Andrew withdrew the length of his cock from the now-prone and certainly surprised woman. Grabbing again at the ponytail at the back of her head, he pulled her completely sideways on the couch as he slammed his full length back into her.

"Oohh, fuck!" she nearly screamed.

"You're not going to leave, are you, slut? You want this as bad as I do," he hissed, thrusting his hips into the fake-titted slut again, pushing her lightly muscled back up the low-slung arm of the couch. Tracy moaned at his aggression, her head hanging off the side of the couch, exposing her elegant neck.

Andrew pulled all the way out of Tracy's sopping hole and his cock sprang up toward his stomach before falling against her exposed clit, causing a gasp to escape her crimson lips. "You wanna leave, Tracy?" he whispered, more gentle now.

The fat, overheated cock head rubbing against her clit left Tracy momentarily speechless as she tried to regain her breath. She shook her head and muttered, "No."

"What? I couldn't hear you," Andrew taunted the unfaithful wife. He took his slick shaft in his hand, increasing the pressure of the head against her throbbing clit.

"No." Louder this time.

Andrew released his cock and let the head fall between Tracy's slippery folds, pushing the thick shaft back into her slowly. When he felt his pubic hair crush against her bald lips, he ground his pelvic bone against her inflamed clit. Tracy's hands found his muscular arms and sought to pull him closer to her, but he resisted.

"What do you want? What do you want me to do?"

Tracy lifted her head and her eyes bore into his; lust danced over an emerald background. Her lips snarled at him. "I want you to fuck me," she grunted. "I want you . . . to pound the shit . . . out of me!"

Andrew pulled back and savagely drove the length of his cock back into the married slut's hole, driving her further up the arm of the couch until the middle of her back was centered on it. Her back arched and her head hung over the edge, her ponytail brushing against the grooved planks of the hardwood floor.

Tracy's massive tits reached for the ceiling, the thick nipples at the center of the triangled tan lines offered to Andrew's mouth. Thrusting his aching cock in and out of her distended cunt, he leaned forward and captured the elongated bud of her left tit in his mouth, sucking it lewdly between his lips and teeth. Tracy's tanned arms circled his neck, pulling him closer, trying to suffocate the young man in her over-inflated titflesh.

Releasing the engorged nipple, Andrew pushed himself off Tracy's prone and vulnerable body and braced himself on his hands, jackhammering into her yielding pussy. Syrupy juices flowed from her cunt around his swollen shaft, coating his sweaty balls in the viscous fluid. "How's this . . . Tracy?" he breathed. "Like my cock . . . pounding your . . . married cunt?"

"Ooohhh, ffuucckk," she moaned, her head lolling from side to side, her dangling ponytail sweeping the floor. The force of Andrew's repeated penetrations of Tracy's unfaithful cunt had her store-bought tits wobbling atop her small torso. Perspiration shone across her stomach and beaded in her cleavage.