Mrs. Branchbaum Fucks

In the car, all was quiet. No one spoke. The chauffeur watched the road., both his hands on the wheel.

Hedda Branchbaum, wife of Right wing broadcaster Swift Branchbaum for five months now, sat in the back seat of Branchbaum's Bentley Mulsanne. She was quiet, her back stiff, her stance upright, her eyes focused on the shaved neck of Moses Williams, the chauffeur. Her skirt was pulled down a conservative one inch below her carefully pressed together knees. Her hands, folded, lay on her lap. One had to keep up appearances. You never knew who was watching.

Sitting next to her was Swift Branchbaum's trusted personal assistant/bodyguard, Orenthal Jackson. Jackson, too, was silent, staring straight ahead.

That was the way they remained in the automobile as it sped down the highway in the heavy traffic. The quiet, staid scene remained that way until the moment the car passed through the gated entrance of Branchbaum's Hollywood Hills mansion and started to negotiate the curved private road which led to the residence. Suddenly, a burst of activity erupted in the back set.

Orenthal pulled down his pant's zipper. His massive cock slithered out from its confinement. Hedda Branchbaum's right hand immediately jumped to grip the shaft of the tumid cock. She began to slowly move her hand up and down on the hard shaft, savoring its ribbed, slick feel. Quickly, she lowered her head. Her lips touched the crown of his prick. She sucked the cock head deeply into her wide open mouth. Madly, she swirled her tongue around the head, allowing her saliva to bathe it and then the shaft until the whole of the cock and Orenthal's balls were soaking wet.

"Good girl," said O, and he put his large hand on the back of her head, encouraging her mouth deeper onto the cock, "Baby, you is the best.Go!!!"

Hedda did her best to comply with O's demand. She bobbed her head up and down at a frantic pace, all the while holding the shaft at its join with O's body. Drool dripped from her mouth.

"Hey, hey, am I gonna get me some of that too?" came the cry from the chauffeur, Williams, behind the wheel.

Gretta stopped her head bobbing to nod her head yes and then went back to her hard sucking of O's cock.

"How much time we got until I got to go to get the boss to get him home?" Moses Williams asked as he maneuvered the sedan into the mansion's garage. His question was addressed to Orenthal Jackson.

"You mean our boss? You mean Mr. Swift Branchbaum, our esteemed leader and the smartest person ever to speak into a mike? Do you mean Ace Broadcaster and speaker of truth, Swift Branchbaum?"

"That's who I'm asking 'bout," said Williams.

The boss's wife, meanwhile, oblivious to the conversation going on above her head, continued her work sucking Orenthal Jackon's large cock. She sucked her cheeks in and swirled her tongue around his shaft, intent on its sweet flavor, intent in keeping it hard..

"I expect we got three hours, maybe two hours to be sure there aren't any problems," was O's reply. "Swift will be with Scott Lansford for their visit that they're doing right now and then for lunch. Three hours the least until he got to get back here in time for his beauty sleep."

Hedda continued her attention to Williams' cock.. She was comfortable leaving the details of these trysts, their place, their time, the activities involved to Williams. He was very efficient. And his cock tasted delicious. She sucked harder.

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Two men are waiting for the gold plated elevator reserved for Club owner Scott Landsford and guests. In this case, the guest is Swift Branchbaum. The men might almost be clones of each other, except they don't look anything like the other. Their haircuts were similar, thinning hair slicked tight against their skulls. Their suits came from the same expensive tailor. They used the same designer brand body powder. Their clone-like similarity ended with their smell, though. Scott was lean, his face predatory with sharp angles and hard edges. Swift's face was soft, jowly, his faced rounded by its excess fat.

"You and your wife, Gretta, seem to be doing well," said Scott. Scott Landsford was the owner of the Stars. He and Branchbaum had met on the golf course. It was an exclusive course, extremely expensive, and select in extending membership. That Swift was a member was good enough for Landsford. Swift had contributed a hundred thous to Landsford's charity, and of course political clout when it was needed. Inviting the broadcaster to watch a Stars' game from the owner's box was paltry recompense. But one hand rubs the other.

"Hedda," Swift corrected his host.

"Yes, that's what I meant," said Scott. "Your wife seemed to enjoy the ballgame." This new wife of Swift's seemed to be a great asset. She listened when the men spoke, smiled with approval when they lit up their ninety-dollar cigars, and followed a slight half step back when they walked into a room. And she dressed great. Not like a slut, but not like a dowager either. In fashion, with just the slightest hint, the aura of hotness. Nice and classy. Good for Swift's image. Swift loved to remind his millions of fans of his masculinity. And a wife that looked just a little bit hot was perfect for that.

"Oh, yes," said Branchbaum. She's a great fan of football. Thanks for inviting us to the game."

"Sorry she couldn't be with us now."

Swift Branchbaum chuckled, "Well, you know, she's a little shy, wasn't sure that the locker room was a proper place for her to be." I had been looking forward to meeting the team, and she had a slight headache. So I asked my factotum, Orenthal Johnson to make sure she gets back home safely.

The two men were heading from the Box to honor the team with their presence. Landsford's Los Angeles Stars football team had just trounced Baltimore by a score of 41-10. Branchbaum mentioned that the team would probably, because of his stature in the world---everyone knew who Swift Branchbaum was, appreciate a nice word from him. Landsford agreed; he thought the team deserved no less.

"You do know I am appreciative of your invitation to visit the locker room," said Swift. Swift, in addition to his renown as the scourge of all things liberal in America, was also known to be a great fan of N. F. L. football, his expertise about football exceeded in scope and intelligence only by his finesse at unmasking the ways that liberals were trying to destroy the American way of life.

"I won't tell the players that you picked Baltimore to win the game," said Landsford with a chuckle..

"I didn't really mean it when I said the Stars would get beat," Branchbaum said. It was a long-standing tradition that a visitor make a slight wager on the ballgame, but that the money from the wager (on both sides) somehow ending up as a contribution to a Landsford charity. Swift did not appreciate being wrong. He appreciated less being reminded of his mistake. If Landsford had been a caller on Swift's radio call-in show, Swift Branchbaum would have cut him off. But Swift was Landsford's guest right now, and Landsford was richer even than Swift was, so Branchbaum smiled.

"The cheerleaders are still around," said Landsford. He winked. "A few of them will be available in a little while. I usually keep a couple of the more willing around after each game, you know, for relaxation. Do you think you might enjoy some relaxing time with a few of them?"

"Thank you, but I will have to decline your kind offer," Swift replied. "You know, new wife. Have to conserve the energy."

"Yes, of course," said Landsford. "Mrs. Branchbaum is a lovely young lady. I am sure she is keeping you quite busy." He added to the statement an unsaid, wink-wink, nudge-nudge.

Branchbaum smiled in reply. It was a modest smile.

"Yes, but here we are," said Landsford. The elevator had stopped and the men could hear the winners in their dressing room celebrating their win.

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Hedda Branchbaum was being supported by the huge hands of Orenthal Jackson. He was holding the twin globes of her lovely tight ass up in the air. Her legs were bent at the knees and were spread wide around Orenthal Jackson's waist. Jackson's cock was deep in her cunt, Her back was arched, only her head resting on the edge of the couch. Orenthal, pounding into that glorious pussy, was working as hard as a man could. Sweat was pouring down his face, his chest soaking wet with perspiration.

Her eyes were wide open. ."Yes, yes!!!!" she shouted.

The big man grunted as he buried the base of his cock into the hairy cushion of her cunt.

"Fuck me good. Fuck me with that big black COCK," she screamed.

Orenthal plunged deeper into her cunt.

"I love ITTTT! I love that dick. Pound it to me!!!" she yelled.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Harder, you dumb scumbag. Faster, you son a bitch. Deeper, deeper, you cocksucker.," Her shout was half shout, half groan..

If it weren't for the cockeyed happy smile on Orenthal's face, a person might have been inclined to pity him his hard work and the unceasing commands. But his big smile indicated that his, at the moment, was a labor of love.

Moses Williams, meanwhile, was sitting on the couch, his pants down at his ankles, his erect cock just inches from Hedda's face.

"Fuck me haaaaaarder," shouted Hedda Branchbaum. "Deeper, faster. Harrrrrrder!" She continued her orders to Orenthal.

After a while, she turned her attention to Moses. She looked over at the chauffeur. He.had trouble believing this, but he was tired. He wasn't positive he was up for more. This woman was something else. "What are you waiting for?" she demanded.

Moses sighed, moved on the couch and re-inserted his cock into her open mouth.

"Mrrrmephhh, godddddammit, Shhhurrrppp," her shouting wasn't really decipherable, but she never let up screaming her approval and demands for more as Orenthall's prick burrowed deep into her slippery, cum filled hole and while she slurped on Moses' hard cock.

Orenthantal grinned as he fucked Hedda and as he watched her suck on Moses' cock. She was no doubt the baddest bitch he had ever fucked. She was also, no doubt, the noisiest slut he had ever fucked. He always worried echos of her screams would rebound around the house for a long time and bounce back when Swift was at home. And for sure, he worried about the smell. Cunt aroma filled the room whenever Mrs. Branchbaum had sex there. Lucky, Swift Branchbaum liked that aromatic candles were always lit in his house.

.

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First thing that Swift Branchbaum noticed as he walked into the locker room was that,hey, most of the players weren't any better cock packaged than he was. Well, they were a bit bigger, but not by that much.

Scott Landsford explained: "steroids." He further explained, "I make them take steroids. Makes them better performers. Hey, and they end up with penises smaller than mine." He laughed and clapped Swift on the shoulder.

The Stars' locker room was a scene of raucous revelry as Swift and his host entered. The win today clinched the conference championship for the Stars and they were celebrating loudly and happily.

Swift Branchbaum was thrilled to be in the Stars' locker room. It made him feel more a man, part of the club of macho athletes. He hadn't had time to do sports when he was a kid. He was too busy learning the radio trade. But he was sure that he would have been a good football player if he had gone out for the team. Swift had taken up golf a few years ago, and he had shot some pretty decent rounds of 18 holes. He would be sure to tell his wife, Hedda, all about this visit when he got home. Hedda was a great audience. She was a good listener, attentive to his opinions.

His eyes scoured the locker room, searching for Bob Justice, the team's quarterback. He saw Justice at his locker being interviewed by the minions of the working press. Swift, following Landsford towards where Justice was talking and drying his hair with a towel, smiled widely and, intruding himself between the sportswriters and Justice, held out his hand to shake the quarterback's.

Justice looked up and saw Branchbaum standing there along with the team's owner, Scott Landsford. Noticing Branchbaum's outstretched hand, Justice swiped his hand with his towel before dropping the towel to the ground and reaching for Branchbaum's hand.

Still smiling, Swift Branchbaum gripped Justice' hand. "Wonderful game, my compliments," he said. "I especially noticed when you changed your throw in the last second to hit Stankiewicz on the zig out for that touchdown. Brilliant."

"Thank you, sir," said Justice. Justice. However, was unable to mask the fact that he wasn't sure who, exactly, Branchbaum was and was not able to hide the fact that he hadn't a clue as to what this pudgy guy with wattles had just said.. .

Landsford moved Swift away from the crowd around the quarterback. "Don't worry about he didn't know who you were. Concussions. He's had two already this year after I don't know how many last year. Makes him sort of ga-ga."

Branchbaum, Landsford holding his arm, moved deeper into the chaos of the locker room.. Branchbaum, of course, hated what he called the Washington elites, the Liberals, and their attempts to regulate everything from how coal mines should be kept safe to where oil might be drilled. "Washington is sticking its nose into this too," said Swift. "It's not any bureaucrat in Washington's business whether a player had a concussion or not. They're fuckin' adults. Crybaby Liberals are going to screw football up too. Make it into a game for sissys like that congressman from Mass A Choo Choo Sits." Swift was proud of his ability to make fun of the gay congressman.

Just then, Landsford and Branchbaum were confronted by a naked, wet, six-foot-three inch, 320 pound offensive lineman, Lyle 'Bighfat' Humminger who had just stepped from the shower. Humminger put his massive arm around Swift and hugged him close. "Mr. Branchbaum," he said, "I am you biggest fan. Love the way you put it to those Pansy Liberals and the Femma Nazis. You is my man!" and he hugged Branchbaum even closer.

Branchbaum tried to move away from the player's embrace. He looked down and saw the lineman's cock swinging loose and hitting Branchbaum's body just above the waist. hug from Humminger. "I just love you," Mr. Branchbaum," said the giant as he continued to hold Swift close.

Swift felt his clothes getting wet. Worse, he felt his cock twitch again. Worse yet, Humminger wouldn't stop saying how much he admired Swift. Swift feared that the big lineman was going to kiss him.

Fortunately, Landsford was able to extricate Swift from the lineman's embrace. Swift noted his meeting with Humminger, telling himself that he could relate to his wife later just how loved he was by those football players. He was sure she would be thrilled by his popularity in the locker room. He would tell his radio audience all about the visit, too, although there were always a few of them, the unmacho few, who expressed no interest at all in his popularity with the football players or even with his skill as a golfer.

###########

Hedda Branchbaum was still nude. She was looking and feeling good.. "Gentlemen," she said, "put some James Brown on the audio," I am feeling good!.

Orenthal Jackson laughed, "You are absolutely the hottest wife Mr. Branchbaum ever had."

"Ýou ever fucked the others?" Hedda was Swift Branchbaum's fifth wife. Two had left and divorced him before he had made it big on radio, The next two had divorced him after taking what the pre-nuptial had allowed. Hedda was the fifth.

"The first two, I never knew," said Orenthal. "I was hired when Mrs. B. number three was being let go. Mrs. B. 4 was really serious about her morals. Soon as her kids graduated from college on Mr. B's dime, she was gone."

Hedda Branchbaum was wearing a towel hung loosely round her neck, covering only her shoulders. At the moment, she was circling the room, lighting the many scented candles in the house. Swift Branchbaum liked that his house smelled of the aromatic candles.

Orenthal watched as she sashayed across the room with the wand lighter in her hand.Not only was she hot, and he did mean HOT, but she was also one smart lady, and, she had the prettiest ass, round, firm, packed. "The boss'll be home in exactly one hour. I gotta get dressed and ready, and I know you got to get cleaned up and dressed too." Moses Williams had left the house five minutes ago, summoned to pick Mr. Branchbaum up at the stadium.

"Got plenty of time," said Hedda. She walked over to Orenthal and reached out to hold his flaccid cock, which, as soon as her hand reached out towards it, began to stir itself out of its quiettude. "Oh. How cute," she said, "Orenthal junior is getting ready to wake up again."

Orenthal waved his hand at Hedda. "Wait a minute. Oh shit," his cock had jumped to attention all by itself, by itself and a little help from Hedda Branchbaum's flicking finger.

She was down on her knees, between his spread legs."Oh, poor little Orenthal Junior," she said.

"Little?" he complained.

"Oh, do forgive me," Hedda said, "did I hurt your feelings? I didn't mean it. Here, let me make you feel better," she kissed the head of his now nearly full tumescent cock. "Oh, he isn't really so little anymore."

Orenthal tried to get up, but Hedda's hand pressed against his washboard abs prevented him from standing. "We really don't have time for this," he said. "Swift, Mr. Branchbaum, will be back soon."

Hedda didn't reply to Orenthal. Instead, she spoke to the head of his quivering cock. "Poor Junior. Big, big Junior doesn't have time to visit my cuunnie. Little Cuunnie feels so lonely."

"Little?" That was from Orenthal.

Hedda couldn't restrain her laugh. "Ok, you win." She dropped the hand that was cupping his balls, let them fall and stood up. "Let's get ready to greet the great one when he returns."

Orenthal wasn't sure whether he was happy that this fuck session was ending. But all good things had to end. And he knew that Hedda would be back for more of his cock tomorrow when Swift was on the air busy saving America from socialism. "Do you mind," he asked Hedda, "if I ask why you dislike Branchbaum so much? I mean, you

been married for less than half a year."

Hedda looked at Orenthal. She was busy picking up her clothes, bra, panty, slip, dress, stockings. "You really wanna know? Look, it would take more than the time we have now for me to explain. He's a fucking hypocrite. I can tell......Wait...He is scum. I don't have the time before I get out of here and go upstairs to wash up and change. But, you want to know? He is complete scum!You can be sure that before the week is over he'll offer my ass to Scott Landsford."

"What?"

"Don't doubt me," Hedda said. "I saw how Landsford looked at me, I saw how Swift looked at Landsford. I got to go now, get clean, get dressed."

#############

Swift Branchbaum was getting ready to leave the stadium. His car was waiting at the V.I.P. station. "Once again, thanks for everything," Swift said to Scott Landsford. "It was a great game. I enjoyed the visit to the dressing room."

"Are you certain you aren't up to a brief visit with the cheerleaders?" asked Landsford.

Swift smiled. "Thanks. Thanks very much. But I really must get home to the missus."

"Okay," said Landsford, "and please be sure to give my regards to the little woman. She is a fine lady."

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This is the end of part one. Part Two of this story is scheduled to be submitted soon, dependent, of course, on the response, comments, and votes of readers of this story.

ILienBagby (author)