Walter Kresky's Loving Wife

But, perhaps even better than her breasts was his wife's cunnie. Joanna shaved off much of her growth, leaving only a strip that directed him where to land his jet, as if he needed any such help. Walter very much enjoyed a bald cunnie. It looked so pure, so bare and exposed, so innocent and yet so primitively, fundamentally enticing: just a soft, little white mound rising between Joanna's thighs, capped be a most delicate slit, between which held the most wondrous stimulation that his cock could ever enjoy. Walter could even detect a bit of glistening moisture on the lips of his wife's crevice.

As Walter would say, why hide behind a bush that which is perhaps the prettiest part of a girl's body? It should be out there in the bright light of the day, for her man to admire. Joanna would always blush when he said that. His compliments were so sweet, so considerate, and it was so very nice to hear that he found her pretty, down there. She had never really been very certain about that, at least before she was married. She was now.

Walter reached behind himself to double-check that his door was indeed locked, albeit not taking his eyes off of his wife as he fiddled with the lock.

"Do I please you, dear?" Joanna asked.

"Yes," he quietly responded, "very, very much so, Peaches."

"I'm not interrupting you, am I?"

"No, no, not at all." His cock was swelling fast within his boxers.

"Well, that's good. I know how much you enjoy your privacy at lunch." Joanna encouraged her husband to tell her how his day went when he came home, and he had often spoke of how someone had annoyingly disrupted this brief moment of pleasure during his always very busy, hectic, or dreary day. He didn't make a big deal about it, but Joanna did listen closely. She bent over, pressing her bottom more firmly against the glass, to pick up her trench coat.

His eyes followed the swaying of her breasts as she bent over to pick up her coat. Breasts filled out so well when a woman bent over.

Joanna paused to let him admire her hanging boobs, and then stood back up to take her coat to his coat rack, seemingly oblivious to the fact that anyone looking into her husband's office would see as well her swaying, jiggling breasts. Of course, though, they wouldn't know who she was. They probably didn't know who was even in this office, let alone this naked woman who was visiting an apparently very lucky executive. They would probably think that someone at J.C. Drithers and Company had hired a prostitute to pleasure this executive during lunch. They would be rather jealous but appreciative that he had the courtesy to leave the blinds open.

Joanna strode confidently toward Walter, those bulbous boobs bouncing and bobbling as she did so. By the time she arrived her nipples appeared to be as stiff and extended as the dick in his pants. "Honey," she asked, "Would you do me a really big, big favor?" She looked into his eyes like a girl entreating her father to buy her a new puppy.

Walter could never resist that plaintive, pleading expression, and certainly wouldn't do so when presented in the implied context of providing a comparably special favor in return. "Absolutely, dear, anything." He didn't care what it was. He knew it wouldn't be exorbitant. Perhaps a new dress. At the moment she clearly needed one, although she could hardly be shopping dressed, or undressed, like this.

"I want you to take me over your desk."

Well, that wasn't a particularly difficult request. He would indulge her, at least this one time. "Shouldn't I close the blinds?"

"Why dear?" Joanna responded, looking over her shoulder as she strolled over to his desk. "Are you so terribly ashamed of your wife?"

As his eyes admired the sight of that swaying tush (damn his wife had a great butt) he acknowledged, "No, honey, not at all." She had the bottom of an eighteen year old. Any younger than that and it would be illegal, if not immoral.

"Well then, let's let your neighbors appreciate what a pretty wife you have." She moved his papers off to the side, carefully piling them in a manner that he would be subsequently able to reproduce how they had been originally arranged and then, her breasts jiggling as she did so, bent over his desk and thrust her bottom out toward him. "You can pretend I'm your secretary."

Walter suggested instead, "How about I pretend it's you."

"I know you've thought about her. I don't mind if you think about other girls. I know what boys are like." She looked back at him, wiggling her bottom back and forth, "You wouldn't do anything though, would you?"

Walter had indeed thought about his secretary, in that way. No normal man wouldn't, at least once. She was really quite sexy, and made no effort to hide that fact. Her skirts were often short, her blouse usually tight, at times even diaphanous. How do women get away with that, wearing clothes that one could actually see through. She can't walk around without a blouse, but she can walk around with a blouse that is essentially a window? Well, in any case, it was also true that he had never acted on any of his natural impulses, or his fantasies, regarding other women. He never would. He wouldn't have to. He would just have to mention them to his wife and she would act them out with him, for him.

Wives will at times ask their husbands what they want, in bed. Husbands will usually say that what she has been doing, what they are doing, is precisely what he wants. At best he will ask for some minor addition, liking doing it from behind, perhaps doing it in a different room, perhaps even doing it in a public place. Some rare men may even ask her to take it on her face, to wear a special outfit (like a nurse, waitress, or even school girl), or to even let him do it up her butt. But, Joanna was well past all of this. There really wasn't anything she would deny Walter, no matter how seemingly nasty, perverse, or offensive. But, these simple acts of love were best kept secret, as many would not find them to be to their liking. The important point is that Walter had no reason to consider looking elsewhere. He had Joanna.

"There really isn't anyone I want, Joanna, other than you."

"Flattery will get you everything," she responded, and arched her back, spread her legs, and raised up her bottom.

He glanced at the large open windows. It was a bit disconcerting, knowing that your wife was so openly wantonly displayed, but then also knowing that nobody across the street who could view into his office would really know who she was. Even if they figured out it was him, they wouldn't know it was her, his wife. And, even if one or two persons were suspicious about that, how could they really prove it? And, finally, who really cares? What real harm will come from this? Frankly, the fact that strangers could see, could enjoy what they were seeing, made it all the more exhilarating, and exciting. He unzipped his slacks, extracted his erect cock, and approached his wife, his stiff dick waving before him as he strode up to her wantonly upraised bottom.

When he arrived at her fanny it was not difficult to lodge his cock at the entrance to her cunt. She knew how to present herself so that there would not be the least bit of difficulty for Walter, so that he would find her to be entirely available, receptive, and easy. He should not have to work for this. It, she, should be readily accessible.

He positioned his cock at the entrance to her most inviting and giving cunnie and, without any foreplay, shoved it fast and hard all the way up inside.

"Mmmmmmm," Joanna softly groaned as she felt Walter drive his cock deep up inside her. She so much liked it when he drove it in hard.

"Oh, Mr. Kresky!" Joanna then gasped, "It's so big! I didn't realize you'd be so big. But then," she said, looking back at him with a twinkle in her eyes, "You are Vice President and everything."

Walter smiled and his dick swelled. "You can handle it, Violet," Walter responded, playing along. "You're a very good secretary."

"Oh, Mr. Kresky, do you really think so?"

"You're the best, dear, really."

"Oh, Mr. Kresky, that makes me so happy. I so much want to please you."

And she was indeed doing precisely that. They had been married for a number of years but Walter never tired of Joanna's cunt. As she once said, they were meant for each other, made for each other, and that romantic sentiment certainly applied to the wedding of her cunt to his cock. They were organs that seemed to be perfectly complementary, perfectly matched. It was like her cunt was designed precisely for the purpose of providing maximal stimulation for the nerve endings all along and around his dick. Her pussy was better than her hand, her butt, or even her mouth. There was really nothing to compare it to. If only a company could create and produce an artificial one that was comparable. There would be a lot of money to be made with a product like that, if it was actually realistic.

But, of course, it still wouldn't be Joanna's cunt, and hers did appear to be especially designed for him, for Walter's cock. It seemed to hug, caress, and massage every inch, every centimeter of his dick. She even gave him a welcoming squeeze once he was firmly ensconced.

Walter at first just teased Joanna by slowly sliding his cock in and out of her, never ever fully leaving, but pulling back so far that it was just about ready to escape, to slip out, and then he would reverse direction and gradually push and drive it back in, enjoying every little centimeter, curve, and crevice of Joanna's fleshy wet cunnie with the sensitive soft head of his dick. He gently screwed her this way for sometime, slowly moving his cock in and out, in and out, all the while enjoying the sight of her little taut tush and puckered rosebud, as well as the sound of her soft whimpering. As she got wetter and wetter her sighing was accompanied by the slushing and sluicing sounds of his wife's slippery slit.

"Oh Mr. Kresky, please, please fuck me harder. I can't take it anymore."

It was not really role playing now. Joanna so much enjoyed being fucked hard, being really nailed, but she did appreciate that the longer he took to get there, the more intense would be the ending. She did though encourage Walter by thrusting back her pelvis each time he moved forward, as well as circling her bum around and around and around, helping him to screw it all the way in. She groaned with frustration though as she felt him pull back. She so much preferred the sensation of him driving it in than feeling him pulling it out. If only there could always be the former without the latter: to always feel herself being screwed rather than feel herself losing him.

He increased the pace. He knew they could not do this too long. He only had an hour for lunch, and he hadn't even started, at least with the food.

"Mr. Kresky, yes, yes," Joanna begged, "Fuck your little secretary so hard! Give her the big manly cock of her boss."

He drove his dick in and out as hard and fast as he could.

"Mmmph!" Joanna lurched with the first really hard plunge. "Yes, that's it, Mr. Kresky," she quicky recovered, "I've wanted this so, so long. You're so big, so powerful."

Walter wished his office was soundproof, or at least enough that nobody could hear from outside, could hear the sound of abdomen slapping against flesh, cock sluicing a very wet swollen cunt, a wife groaning and moaning with pleasure.

Joanna turned her face back to look at Walter, and pleaded, "You'll cum on my face, Mr. Kresky, won't you? Won't you please?"

"Wait," he gasped. He never could last terribly long when he fucked Joanna this hard. Just a moment ago he had not wanted it to last much longer but once he started, once it started to feel this good, he wanted it to last at least a bit longer.

"Mr. Kresky," Joanna gasped, "Is there something else you wanted? Something else I can do, for you?"

Actually, there was. "I want to do it at the window."

Joanna reached back and pushed Walter away, his dick slipping out of her cunt with a rather lewd slushing sound, drawing with it a considerable amount of fluid that dripped down her thighs. "Mr. Kresky!" she exclaimed and then lowered her voice. "Someone will be able to see us. Goodness, gracious."

He retorted, "Someone can see us now."

Joanna covered her breasts and cunnie with her hands, as if she was now just realizing this. "But not nearly so well than if we were in fact right at the window! Goodness, gracious, Mr. Kresky, you're such a scamp!"

"Violet, please," Walter pleaded. "My wife would never do anything like that, and I've always wanted to."

"I don't know, Mr. Kresky. I know some of the secretaries in that building. I know some of the executives! What if they recognized me?"

"I'll give you a Christmas bonus." There was probably some real uncertainty on the part of his wife, but Walter knew that it was mostly play.

Joanna smiled. "A bonus? Really?" She gave Walter a peck on the cheek. "You're so good to me, Mr. Kresky," and she scampered over to the large, wall-sized window, her breasts wobbling and wiggling as she did so.

This was perhaps a bit risky. Walter didn't know anyone within the office building across the street, but that doesn't mean nobody there would know him. After all, he was one of the vice Presidents of J.C. Drithers and Company. And, certainly his boss, Mr. Drithers, would not appreciate one of his executives exposing himself in such a manner. That really wasn't the image that Mr. Drithers wanted the company to project. But, when one's dick is stiff and hard it will lead one in many directions that perhaps one should not go, but would certainly enjoy arriving. Walter followed his wife's behind, his stiff dick pointing out from his slacks, happily leading the way.

Joanna leaned forward, bracing herself against the window with the palms of her hands, spreading her legs, and thrusting out her bottom. It was a most inviting presentation: her red, swollen, wet lips glistening in the office light, moisture dripping down her thighs.

Walter hesitated, as it was a most beautiful sight. What did he do to deserve this woman? Being Vice President of J.C. Drithers and Company? Not hardly. But, there she was, presenting her cunt to him, while exposing herself to the world. He once again positioned his cock at the entrance to her wet yet burning cunt.

"Fuck me now, Mr. Kresky, fuck me like I deserve it, please," she begged, thrusting her cunt back against his dick, lodging it securely inside her tight, gripping, yearning slit.

He leaned down over her, reaching around to grasp her hanging breasts. They always felt so much fuller, so much more pliant and squishy when they hung from her body like this, like the full udders of a woman wanting to be milked. He squeezed them in his hands as he again drove his cock up her cunt.

"Yes, yes, Mr. Kresky," she gasped, "that's it, so nice, so wonderful." Joanna gazed out through the window with intoxicated, glazed eyes, scouring the windows within her view, searching for the eyes of others who might be upon her, as Walter's cock slid in and out of her cunt. "Ohhhhhh," she groaned as she felt her man's cock plunging, servicing her cunt. Abandoning her exposure to her fate she raised her head, closed her eyes, and breathed in lustful pants as she returned his thrusts with comparably obscene humping and heaving.

It was indeed a very lecherous, lewd, and lascivious sight, and one not missed by some. It did not take long for bored, dreary, and worn men, feasting on their tired lunches, the same fast food sandwiches, burgers, or salads that they ate day in and day out, looking longingly out of their windows for something new, something different from the same view they have had for many, many years, the view of other offices of other men doing the same thing: looking out their windows for something worth looking at. But, today was indeed different. For there, across the street, just yards away, was a butt naked woman, leaning into the window, her legs spread, a guy behind her, grasping, squeezing, and mauling her breasts as he drove his dick in and out of her cunt. Yes, this was a very different day, very delightfully different.

Walter bent far over Joanna, not so much to have better sex, but to hide his face in the back of his wife. There was no reason for anyone to recognize her. They could perhaps figure out the location of the office, and by that determine who was fucking this naked woman, but even then he could possibly claim that it was not in fact him, that he was not in his office at the time of the offense. It would be a weak defense, but potentially successful. Yes, perhaps he could have his cunt and eat it too, have his wife in public view yet be free from any cost himself. Well, who really cared, as her clinging, clutching, clenching cunt felt so fucking good. It was like every nerve of his cock was being massaged, lit up, and inflamed.

Joanna could see through her partially closed eyes that she had indeed drawn some attention. It was a bit embarrassing, knowing that all these gawking, smiling, leering men's eyes were feasting on the sight of her body being fucked as their mouths were feasting on their lunches. Hopefully the sight of her was at least more pleasurable than the taste of their sandwiches, but it was a bit disappointing that many of them did not in fact put down their food, continuing to eat as if she was actually just a distracting merriment, a luncheon special. Yet, there was one man, actually she spotted another, who could be clearly seen playing with himself. One had even extracted his cock and was smiling lecherously up at her as her body lurched, jerked, and trembled with the thrusting and driving of Walter's cock.

If Joanna was easily embarrassed she would be mortified. Perhaps she would be if she knew any of those men leering at her, and perhaps she should be even though she didn't know them.

Walter momentarily let go of her breasts, exposing them now more fully to view (although their being squeezed and pawed was itself rather fetching). Joanna quickly let go of the window and covered her breasts with one hand as well as her cunnie with the other, now that she was at it.

However, the fact that she was trying to hide herself, protect her modesty, by covering her breasts and cunnie, was even more alluring, more erotic, as it made it all the more clear that they were seeing something that should not be seen, that she was feeling violated by them as she was being violated by him. And, besides, it was such a feeble, pointless effort, particularly when she could not conceal the fact that she was being so obviously fucked from behind. In fact, it was rather incongruous for her to be covering herself from the front while it was from behind that she was in fact being screwed.

Joanna looked with dismay and shame upon the eyes of the many men who were watching her, enjoying her show, her display, her exhibition. She was not though in fact feeling shame. She was feeling delight, power, and quite intense arousal and excitement. She only looked with shame and humiliation because she knew that the men watching would enjoy it all the more if they felt that she was mortified and shamefaced. She released her hands from her cunnie and breasts to cover her face, as if by hiding her eyes she could not be seen, when in fact she was now showing them everything, or at least pretty much everything they wanted to see.

But, she could not hide her face for long, as Walter was about to grant her earlier request. "Yes, I'm ready," he announced, "quickly dear, on your knees, on your knees!"

Joanna was herself getting so close but she really had no choice. With some reluctance, at least with respect to the timing, she slipped from his stake and dropped to the floor, on her knees, back on her haunches, her bottom resting on her ankles, her breasts profiled to the window, her head, her face, drawn back to receive her lunch.