Virtual Reality

He extended a hand, and she shook it, her grip light, feminine. "Good to meet you, June. My name is Mike. Mike Cooper. And now, that we've been properly introduced . . . I do need to ask you, you understand . . . we need to know our customers very well before we can install the unit. Because each family's needs, each marital couple's needs, are unique, depending on their situation."

She threw him a puzzled look.

"What I mean is . . . and this is kind of embarrassing, but . . . you see, if you and your husband have a fantastic sex life, then the unit would make even more sense right here, in your bedroom. That would just solidify my initial diagnosis of where to place it. So . . . do you, June?"

She gasped, blushed again, her hands coming to her cheeks. "Mr. Cooper, I'm sorry, but that's none of your business. Maybe you should leave."

"You know, June," he soldiered on, "I also asked because, well, you just have a certain look about you."

Her mouth dropped open. "W-what are you talking about?"

He smiled. "Well . . . you look, how can I say this? Needy. You look like a woman whose husband doesn't take care of her."

"Mr. Cooper, I'll have you know that my Ward is the sweetest, kindest . . . Oh, why am I telling you any of this? Please leave."

Mike sat down on the bed. "I'm not denying that your husband—Ward—is a great guy, or that he doesn't take care of things financially. Looking at all this . . ." he swept his arms around in a wide arc . . . "it's obvious that he's loaded. But that's not the type of taking-care-of that I'm talking about. When was the last time he brought you to an orgasm, June? When was the last time he made love to you so well, you thought you were going to explode?"

"Mr. Cooper!" It appeared to him that she nearly fainted, dead on the spot. "How dare you! My Ward is perfectly satisfactory. He . . ." She paused, her cheeks the color of wild roses.

"Just what I thought," Mike said, getting up. He approached the bedroom door, shut and locked it. "Perfectly satisfactory. You probably haven't had a real, powerful orgasm in years, June. I mean, a perceptive guy can see that, just looking at you. Who knows? Maybe Ward has never made you cum. Not once. Either way, you're a woman with a need, and I'm the guy who can fulfill that need."

She just stood there, like a deer frozen in the proverbial headlights. He walked up to her, kissed her ear. Then he placed his hand on her shoulder and gently rubbed it. Meanwhile, he now was kissing her neck, soft, feathery, a prelude of what was to come.

Something like a moan escaped her lips, he was sure of it. But then the spell broke, and she darted for the door.

He caught her, held her in his arms.

"Let me go!" she said. "I'm a married woman, don't you understand? And besides, I . . . I . . ."

"You're not that type of girl. That's what you were going to say, wasn't it, June? You're not the kind of girl who necks on a first date, or, God forbid, has sex with a guy when you first meet him. No, you're more the hearts and flowers type, right? A long courtship. Maybe some innocent kissing, a caress or two, some cock-teasing, but no loosening of clothes, no real pleasuring of each other. Well, you know what I say? Bullshit! Bullshit. You may pretend to be all of that, June, but deep down, underneath your façade, you are a sex-kitten, aren't you? And you want me right now, don't you? You want a man who can fuck you like the slut you really are, treat you like a beautiful, sexy woman for a change instead of a middle-aged housewife. From everything I can gather, June, your Ward can barely get it up. And you are yearning to know what it feels like to really be fucked by a man who knows what he's doing, and who knows what kind of woman you really are, beneath all the phony bullshit. Now you look me in the eye, and tell me I'm wrong."

This was the moment. He had her by the wrists, he was staring her down, demanding the truth. She met his gaze, looked down. She couldn't deny it. And right then and there, he knew. He had her.

"Get on the bed," he said.

She shook her head.

"Go," he said, and slapped her ass.

She squealed. "Please," she said. "Please leave. I . . . I am . . ."

"You are a sex-starved little slut? Is that what you were going to say, June? You be honest with me. I'm not a member of your sewing circle, or the PTA. I won't put up with your phony shit. You tell it like it is with me."

"Yes!" she said. "I admit it. Ward doesn't . . . he . . . he's just not interested in pleasing me . . . that way. I have things I'd like to try, but he won't hear of any of them. So, I don't even talk to him about any of it anymore. I just . . . when he wants to make love, I just lie there and he cums in five minutes and then he goes to sleep."

"Missionary every time, am I right?" Mike asked.

She nodded.

"I bet you'd like it doggy, or you might want to be on top, hmm?"

"Please go." She was flushed, and little beads of sweat dotted her forehead.

"Get on the bed, June. You know you want me. You can't pretend you don't. I'll fuck you the way you've always wanted it. And what will it hurt? No one will ever know. And maybe you can feel a little happier for a while. All the work you do around here, you deserve some fun."

Remarkably, this seemed to resonate with her. She sat down on the bed. She was shaking, despite the warmth of the day, the stuffiness of the room. All of the windows were closed, which was fine with him. The stuffier it was, the more she would sweat.

He took off his shirt, and she gasped. He kept himself in good shape, and her reaction to his physique perked up his hard-on, which was beginning to stiffen considerably. But he didn't stop there. He unzipped his jeans, yanked them off, and then, before she could utter a word, he slipped out of his briefs.

There he stood, completely naked, his dick half-erect. He noticed that her eyes were on his crotch, unblinking, and in them he saw both fear and lust.

He approached her on the bed, stood before her.

"Touch me," he said. "I'm only halfway home. With your help, I'll get fully hard."

She didn't move, just sat there, staring at his dick. He reached for one of her perfectly manicured hands, and guided it to his dick.

"There," he said. "Now stroke me, June. Jack me off. Make me hard for you."

Hesitantly, she began to move her small hand over his shaft. Slowly, her touch soft, she moved her hand up and down, up and down. Slowly but surely, she gained a little confidence, and her ministrations grew quicker, bolder. Until, moments later, he was fully erect, all eight inches of him staring her in the face.

She licked her lips.

"How big is your husband, June?"

"Not this big," she said. She continued to caress his cock, unasked for. She was even starting to squeeze him and play with his head. She had a good touch. If she kept this up, she'd make him cum, just with a handjob.

"You like my cock, don't you?"

She swallowed, continued stroking him. Then she nodded. He smiled. She was fully in now, no turning back.

"Suck me."

Her mouth dropped open. "But I . . . I've never . . ."

It wasn't surprising. Not really. Still, he just had to know why. "Is that because you don't like to give head, or because old Ward doesn't want you to do it?"

She looked at the floor as she kept stroking him. The sight of her wedding ring, on the hand she was using to jack him off, nearly made him burst. But he managed to keep himself under control.

"Ward . . . thinks that only whores do that," she said softly. "I offered to do it for him after we were married, and he made me feel like a filthy tramp. I've never brought it up with him again."

"Well, I'm not Ward, thank God for you," Mike said. "So . . . suck me, June."

She hesitated, but then brought her head forward. She opened her mouth, and wrapped her lips around his head.

"Good girl," he said. "Now . . . you just suck me like I'm an ice cream cone, okay? And just watch the teeth! Use your lips, not your teeth. And when I cum, I'll shoot my jism into your mouth, and you can swallow."

Her eyes opened wide at this, and she tried to pull her head back, but he had put his hands behind it, keeping her in place.

"Faster, June, I'm not made out of glass here."

She picked up the pace, and he was impressed. For a first-timer, she was a damn good cocksucker. And as he neared his orgasm, as his dick throbbed more and more in her warm mouth, he could sense that she was getting more aroused. She increased her speed another notch, and was beginning to moan.

At one point she released his shaft from her mouth and just sucked on his dickhead, licking it, making love to it with her lips and tongue. As he looked down, she met his eyes and gave him a coy smile. That did it. Here she was—June Cleaver, June fucking Cleaver!—giving him the blowjob of his life. He felt his juices racing through him, surging, surging. He was ready to erupt.

"Take me completely in your mouth, quick!" he told her, and she obeyed, puzzled.

Then he let loose. He hadn't remembered ever cumming harder. Streams of his cum shot into her mouth, and her eyes nearly bulged out of her head.

"Swallow, June," he told her, and she did, with a loud gulp. "How'd I taste?"

She smiled, drips of cum on her chin. "Not bad, Mike. Better than I thought you would."

Damn, she was really starting to relax. This was going to be even better than he'd dared to hope.

He told her to clean the cum off his cock-tip, and she obliged without complaint. When she was done cleaning him off, she licked the cum off of her chin.

"See what you missed all these years, because your husband was too uptight to offer you his dick?"

She blushed.

"Now, it's time we really started having fun." He looked around the room. Somehow, taking her on Ward's bed creeped him out. Ahh. There was the ticket. A comfortable-looking armless chair in the corner. Above the chair, hanging on the wall, there was a picture of Ward and June cutting a piece of their wedding cake, years ago.

He went to the chair, sat down in it. "Now, come to me, get on your knees, and suck me till I'm hard again." He couldn't remember how long he had here. That other world, the "real" world, seemed a long way off. This here seemed real to him now. June Cleaver was real. But in his mind, he still had a vague sense that he was on the clock, that he couldn't dick around—pun intended. Besides, he didn't even know what time it was here in Mayfield. For all he knew, Wally or the Beav might come crashing up the stairs at any moment, home from school.

She was eager, any pretense stripped away. She was on her hands and knees, squatting in front of him in a flash, and before he could say, "Ward Cleaver is a dickless dweeb," her lips were on his shaft again. He loved the way her ruby-red lipstick was leaving smear marks on his cock. Looking at her head bob and weave above his lap, he was struck by how attractive she was. He always had had a June Cleaver fetish, he freely admitted that. And he always thought she was cute. But now, here, in three-dimensional living color, she was really quite hot. And she had a damn slim figure. He was admiring it through her form-fitting, yet, simultaneously, wholesome dress.

The slurping sounds she made were priceless, and in under a minute he was rock hard again. "Okay, now take off your panties, June. But keep your dress on." It's not that he didn't want to see her naked, it's just, he wanted to take June Cleaver in her housedress. The idea of that, the sexiness of it, caused his dick to harden even a little more.

Her cheeks flushed red again. It was getting to seem like red was her natural skin tone. "Oh," she said. "I . . . I mean, I enjoyed doing, um, kissing your, your penis, Mike. But . . .I didn't think you actually really wanted to, to . . ."

"Oh, quit playing the shy housewife, June, and take those panties off. You know you want my dick buried in that neglected pussy of yours."

She gasped, obviously not used to hearing such language. But her arousal was ratcheting up. He could see that clearly. She wanted this. Badly.

She looked away, stood up, hiked up her skirt, and pulled down her panties. From his vantage point, he could see the dark wet circle staining the front of them. The little vixen was soaking wet.

"Hmm, looks like I'm not the only one who's excited at the thought of me fucking you," he said, eyeing her panty stain. "How often do you masturbate, June?"

"Oh, I . . ."

"Spare me the theatrics. Just answer the question. With Ward not taking care of you properly, how often do you bring yourself to the brink? Every week? Every day?"

She was staring a hole through the floor.

"Multiple times per day?" he added.

She nodded. "Usually in the morning, after Ward and the kids leave, and then at night, I get up after Ward's asleep, and I . . . I play with myself in the bathroom."

He whistled. "Damn. You are a frustrated housewife, June. Well, no need for that anymore. You got a big, hard, hot dick waiting for you right here. Now come sit on it, and let me fuck you like you want it."

She came to him, and sat down on his lap, facing him.

"Turn around, baby," he said. "I want you in reverse."

She did as told, but this time she made sure to position herself just so. . . . The feeling of her sliding onto his dick was like being transported to paradise. She was sopping wet, her vagina tight but slippery. She moaned as she allowed him to enter her deeply, and then leaned back into his chest.

"You like that, June?"

"Mmmmmmmm," was all she could say.

He reached in front of her, cupped her breasts, encased within her bra and dress. He could deal with the dress, but he wanted no part of the bra. Luckily, her dress had buttons in the front. He undid them, then told her to take off her bra. She leaned forward, and obliged, as she continued to purr, his dick inside her to the hilt.

Now, her breasts available to him, he reached inside her open dress-front and cupped them, the flesh warm and soft. He squeezed, pinched, caressed, and she threw her head back.

"Ride me, June," he said. "Don't just sit there like a zombie. Put your feet on the floor and ride me like the skanky cowgirl you are."

She didn't need to be told twice. June Cleaver shifted her weight, balanced herself by grabbing onto the sides of the chair, and lifted herself up, nearly off his dick, and then came down gently onto him again, the friction of her vaginal walls rubbing against his shaft sending him closer to his second orgasm.

She rose again, and he sank down into the chair. Then she came down again, and he rose up with his hips, and they joined together, his dick reaching far into her, sending waves of pleasure through her body. She trembled, shook, moaned.

Suddenly, she froze up.

"Hey, what's wrong, sexy?" he said. "You were doing so well."

She turned her head partly, glanced at him sideways. "I just realized. If you were to . . . impregnate me . . . I can't. . . We can't . . ."

"Don't worry about a thing, June. I can't get you, or anyone, pregnant. I had a vas . . ." He paused. Did they even do vasectomies in the '50s? He wasn't even sure. History had never been his best subject. Better to be vague. "Let's just say, I can't get you pregnant."

"You're not lying, are you, Mike?" she said. "I mean, you know, just to get me to . .. to . ."

"Fuck me like the little slut-vixen you are?"

She coughed, blushed, nodded.

"Well, June, take a look. You're already doing that. Look, I promise. The last thing I'd want to do is get you preggers. For my sake, too. I don't exactly want a married babe having my kid, y'know? So, Scout's honor. I am completely incapable of knocking you up. So just let yourself, go, June. Let out all of your repressed desires onto my cock."

That apparently was all she needed to hear. She began to ride him with gusto, bucking at the hips, moaning, grunting, her neck beading up with sweat. "Ohhhhhhhhhh," she said.

He pinched her nipples, hard, and she said, "Ohh, yes!" He forced her head around, and he kissed her, sticking his tongue in her mouth. She reciprocated, and he was immediately stunned at her skills. June Cleaver was a great French-kisser! Her tongue danced in his mouth, wrestled his tongue for supremacy, probed and snaked about, looking to explore. He could hear her moaning in his mouth.

Finally she broke the kiss. "Oh dear, oh dear!" she said. "I always dreamed it could be this good, Mike! Oh, Ward never made me feel like this!"

He felt her body tense up, coiled like a thousands springs, and then she exploded, her hips jerking wildly, and she shrieked. Then she went limp, and he had to reach out and hold her, lest she fall forward onto the floor.

"Oh dear," she said. "Oh, Mike. . .. That was . . ."

"'Was' nothing, baby. We're not through here."

Now he wanted her naked. He told her to stand up and disrobe. This she did, without a murmur of protest. And when she stood before him, nude, he cursed Ward Cleaver in his mind. What a fucking loser. This woman was sexy! Her breasts were small, but her nipples perky, and her ass was tight and round. She had a small build, very petite, very attractive. She sported a nice tan, and her skin was flawless. She obviously took good care of herself. The only thing that bothered him was her untamed blonde bush. It looked like she had never shaved there, never even trimmed. He could appreciate the natural beauty of a woman, but his personal preference was for a shaved mound.

"Very nice, June," he said. "You are one sexy lady." Again she blushed. "Now, I'm going to get up, and I want you to kneel on the floor, and rest your elbows on the chair seat. It's time I take you from behind, baby."

She did as told, not a hint of resistance.

"Has Ward ever taken you doggy style? I mean, I know he's a missionary man. But, c'mon, is that all he's ever done? He's never done anything else?"

She shook her head. "Never."

He assumed the position behind her, grabbed her slim hips, and slid his way in. She let out a sigh of satisfaction. "Don't take this the wrong way, June, but I think your husband is an idiot. I mean here he is, with a blonde doll like you for a wife, and obviously a very kinky one at that, and he doesn't even take care of your most basic needs. That's pretty pathetic if you ask me."

He reached forward, cupped her left breast, pinched her nipple. She seemed to like that, as she moaned and said, "Ohhhh, yes. Oh dear."

Her ass, right before him, was a feast for his eyes. There was very little fat on her, but her ass was well shaped, and, considering her small frame, quite curvy. It was probably her most attractive feature. She had several beauty marks on her ass cheeks, and for some reason these drove him wild with lust and desire.

He pulled his hand back, then drew it forward. Spank! She squealed. He spanked her again. "Mmmmmm." And again. "Ohhhhhh."

"You like that, June?" But before she could answer, he let 'er rip again, this time a solid, hard slap.

Her body jerked, and she said, "Oh dear, oh fuck!"

He nearly squirted right then and there. He had gotten June Cleaver to utter the F-word. He couldn't think of any greater satisfaction.

Now he really began to ram his way home. He was pounding her like a man possessed. And she was meeting his thrusts with her own. Every time he thrust into her, she pushed back hard with her hips. The sound of his balls slapping against her ass filled the room, commingled with her moans and grunts. And he loved the way her beaded necklace hung down from her neck, swaying from side to side as she thrashed her head in her arousal.

"Oooooh, yes, ahhhhhhhhh, mmmmmmmm, uggggggggggg," she said.

He felt himself getting close, and he rammed her even harder. Her vagina gripped him like silken pincers, her muscles tensed, and she came with a scream. That sent him over the edge, too, and he shot a healthy load of man-juice deep inside of her.