tagNovels and NovellasCherry Hill Ch. 01

Cherry Hill Ch. 01


The subtle breeze of the early summer morning brought the scent of freshly mown grass through the screened windows of the O'Connor home. The sound of birds chirping in the early morning light mingled softly with the sounds of the neighborhood awakening from its contented slumber.

The front door of the small white house opened and a man stepped through the door, bending to pick up the morning paper from the front step. His terry cloth robe parted slightly, clinging desperately to his waist by the loose knot in the sash. With the paper in hand, he smiled, looked up and down Cherry Lane and disappeared back into his home, shutting the door on the neighborhood.

"Anything good in the paper?" a pleasant question begged as it drifted through the summer scented air of the house.

"Nothing that I see yet, sweetie," O'Connor's voice answered back loudly, but happily. He looked through the headlines and saw that most of the news was depressing, and almost all of it was either city news or world news, but nothing that really pertained to their quiet little suburb. He softly padded through the house, winding through the rooms until he reached the kitchen. He stopped in the door way, looking over the top of the paper and took in the sight before him.

She was standing at the sink, rinsing something off; the perfect woman, the goddess. She wore a robe similar to his own in all respects except size: her petite but exceptionally curvy frame would have looked like she was trying to swim in her husband's robe. Her sash was tied tighter, her long dish-water blonde hair hanging limply to her lower back, flowing straight down into her nicely rounded ass. Her head turned, and she giggled, her visible blue eye drinking in the image of her husband, his eyes devouring her body, not even seeing the robe, but remembering the tantalizing flesh under it. A delicious shiver ran through her body, the tingle staying in her flesh and tickling her brain, instantly re-warming her sex, bringing it back to the heat it had radiating from it not 2 hours before.

"And what do you think you're staring at, Michael O'Connor?" the goddess said, her rounded cheeks swaying teasingly under the tight fabric imprisoning them.

"I think I'm staring at the best piece of ass in all of Cherry Hill, Joy O'Connor," Michael said back, folding the paper slowly. He felt his cock rise under his robe; he could feel the remnants of their last love-making session still clinging to him. The musk of his wife's renewed arousal began mingling with the smell of the fresh mown grass from the warming outside air.

"Is that all you want to do is stare at it?" Joy said, turning slowly. Her hand had trapped the loose end of her sash and the knot pulled loose as her body turned, allowing her soft, creamy flesh to be exposed to the open air of their kitchen.

Michael couldn't help but lick his lips as his lusting eyes were lured up and down the vixen's skin. He noted with delight that she had trimmed her blonde bush while she showered, which meant two things: she shaved her shapely legs, which turned Michael on greatly, and she was ready to have her pussy sucked and licked to multi-orgasmic bliss. Michael's dick grew harder, rising through the slit in the front of his robe, unhindered by underwear of any kind.

Joy's lips parted and her tongue snaked out and wet her lips of her own accord. Her robe split farther as she pushed herself away from the sink, exposing the bountiful valley of flesh between her firm tits, only her erect nipples kept the robe from opening fully. Her eyes wanted to stay focused on his hazel gems, but she couldn't help but let them drift down to his rapidly engorging member, her pussy getting well beyond damp at the thought of his impressive tool being buried to the hilt in her anxiously awaiting box for their second round of the morning.

Her eyes were glued to his cock, watching the 9-inches of pussy pleasing tool swing with his steps as he approached. The paper hit the table and the loose knot of his sash untied itself; those actions not even a blip on Joy's radar as she felt the distance close between her cunt and his rod, needing to be filled again. Her pulse was racing, carrying an electric fog of lust, her body reacting already to being stuffed and rammed by her husband's cock.

Michael watched the chest of his wife start to heave, he watched her become absorbed in her need. She moved like she was in a trance, her hands moving just enough to push her robe completely off, exposing her entire body to him except for her feet which had been covered in a puddle of fabric. Drops of her honey were already forming on her red, engorged lips, and Michael felt his tongue snake out and wet his flesh, discovering that his mouth was watering in time with her creaming pussy.

"No, staring at it isn't the only thing I want to do," Michael said, his voice almost hoarse with lust. His eyes left her pussy, traveling up her toned belly, unabashed by the tan line from her low riding bikini, up to her freckle splashed chest, looking at each small, pink nipple in turn, then raking his eyes up her neck to her perfectly formed lips and to her lust-hazed blue eyes. Michael saw those eyes weaken, their resolve melt away, and a hot, liquid lust over power the last of his wife's senses.

Without a word or rehearsal, the couple moved as one. Joy pushed herself up on the counter top, squirming delightfully, feeling a bolt of electric need shooting to her clit as her bare skin hit the cold metal of the sink's edge. Michael knelt in front of her, his knees hitting the soft carpet of the floor mat as his eyes traveled back down his wife's body to her open, waiting sex.

Joy put her feet in the wells of the sink, pushing off the edge, holding herself open and up, needing her husband's tongue in her pussy and his lips on her clit. She felt the sunshine on her back as it streamed through the open windows and somewhere in her brain a suppressed alarm told her all of the blinds were open in the kitchen and dining room and anyone could see. Her pussy almost came from that thought alone and she shivered just before she felt her husband's hot breath caress her hot, pink flesh like a long lost lover. Fireworks exploded in her brain, her vision narrowed and vertigo overtook her senses. She knew only she felt like she was falling and that her pussy was being eaten like no other; an orgasmic flight that left her needing more.

Michael slowly licked along the sides of her lips, careful to only let his tongue touch her sensitive lips teasingly. Each time he rounded her clit, his lips went to her soft pink flesh and gave it a gentle kiss, sucking the cool air of the kitchen into his mouth, eliciting a gasp from his wife. He rounded down to her pussy and gingerly lapped the cream from her drooling snatch, the tip of his tongue wiggling against her flesh, making her thighs quiver in time with his ministrations. With a long slowly lick, Michael's tongue worked back up her sex, finding the small bud of her clit poking out of its hood. His lips locked around it and he sucked on it, batting furiously at the sensitive nub, feeling her body buck and rock on the sink, trying to maintain contact.

Joy started panting, moaning and screaming. Her mind was lost, her body erupting, her mouth working on its own accord. The open windows let the entire neighborhood know what was going on as she started screaming profanity in her bliss. The effect was not lost on their upstairs guest, either, Joy's screaming waking her up from her slumber.

Michael kept eating her pussy, sucking on her clit harder, licking with rapid strokes down her open flower, drinking the juice that was oozing from the blonde-framed pussy before his eyes. He stuck his tongue out rigid and started fucking his wife's cunt, his nose bumping her clit every time his lips met hers.

"Oh fuck yes! Eat my pussy, baby!" Joy's screams echoed through the small kitchen. "Fuck me with your tongue! Oh shit, yes! Get ready....oh God!" she continued in an almost continuous stream. Michael picked up the pace, licking, sucking, and fucking her pussy with everything he had. His lips locked around her clit and he bit it softly, his tongue caressing and lavishing it in strokes and swirls before he slid two fingers into her gaping box, beating them with furious speed against her G-spot, her pussy juice splashing off his fingers.

Neither were aware that their house guest had crept down stairs and was standing by the front door, watching them. Her hand was in her boxers, reaching up through the leg to frantically finger her own pussy. She heard her cunt start to splash with juice, the sound mixing with her friend's wet sounds as they echoed out of the kitchen. She had to lean against the front door for support, her orgasm rapidly rising inside her chest and flowing out with her heat to her nipples and slowly to her pussy.

"Fuck yes!" screamed Joy when Michael's fingers hit her second most sensitive spot as his tongue assaulted her first. "Fuck it!" she panted, her voice getting hoarse, her mouth gone dry. Her pussy started to convulse and Michael knew she was close. He slowed down a little bit, his fingers softly strumming inside her, one and then the other, against her sensitive flesh. Joy caught her breath and opened her eyes for the first time since situating herself in the sink, her hazed vision missing their masturbating house guest in the back ground and focusing on her husband's face buried at the junction of her own parted thighs.

His eyes were locked onto hers and a devilish grin twisted his face. His tongue leapt into action as his fingers renewed their assault on her pussy with enhanced vigor. Her eyes clamped shut and her head rocked back, a long scream leaving her throat, her chest heaving, her breath coming in ragged gasps, each one ending in a scream as she exhaled. Michael's face was coated in her honey as it oozed from Joy's pussy, every time her cunt clenched around his fingers, a small squirt came out, running down his chin to his chest, glossing his cheeks with her cum.

Their observer came, too. Her screams were silenced by her mouth clamping shut, her juice coating the flannel crotch of her underwear, her own juices running down her thighs and splashing into her splayed fingers as she watched her best friend get eaten out by her hunky husband. She wished it was her pussy getting eaten, wished she could feel what Joy was feeling, and she wished it was Joy doing it to her. Her body shook again as she pictured returning the favor to her blonde friend, snaking her tongue up that snatch, tasting what her husband had just tasted and suddenly becoming very jealous of Joy and envious of Michael.

She had enough sense to realize, even mid orgasm as she struggled to keep her feet under her, that the couple in the kitchen were parting and Michael started to help his new bride off the counter. With shaking legs that felt like they were filled with jelly, she crept back up the stairs, needing to feel something in her cunt other than her fingers.


Sarah May Wilcox woke up with the morning sun streaming through her living room window. Her hand came up and rubbed at her sleep filled eyes, then moved to her temples where she massaged those as well. She tried to recall what had woke her up, when she heard a voice from her left, "Hey babe, see you're up."

Turning her head, she tried to focus on the blurry image before her. The man stood about 6'4" and had a toothbrush hanging from his mouth. "Is that mine?" she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, walked over and spit the foamy, mint paste into an empty beer can. "Figured I ate your pussy, so what the fuck, I could use your toothbrush too."

Sarah rolled her eyes and yawned. She pushed herself up, threw her legs over the side of her cream colored leather couch and headed to the wet bar. "Want a drink?"

"Nay, I'm good. Do they always do that in the morning?" Sarah barely registered that he had said anything as she grabbed her Jack Daniels and poured herself some breakfast

"Who and do what?" She looked to where he was pointing and downed the shot of Jack she had poured. Sarah barely noticed the burn as it slid down her throat and hit her belly, spreading the fiery warmth throughout her system. "Every fuckin' morning it seems," as she walked over to him. "Newlyweds."

"Oh, that explains it." He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, then onto his briefs. "That'll stop after a couple of years. Fuck, me and the old lady rarely fuck at all now a days."

Sarah sighed, "Shit," she thought to herself. "Married... good one Sarah." She looked out the window, the Jack helping her to focus on the morning. Little Mrs. O'Conner was once more pressed up against her kitchen window, the curtains open, as well as the window itself. Sounds of "fuck me," filling the Cherry Hill neighborhood. "He's probably eating her out." Sarah had noticed the newlyweds moving in and not long afterwards they had a house guest. She had met her once while she was out jogging one morning. "I think they like having everyone knowing their screwing, they do it often enough."

She moved around the room gathering the man's clothes, then thrusting them into his stomach, "Grab yourself something on your way out, and keep the toothbrush." She grabbed a pair of panties and a T-shirt from the rocker, slipped them on and headed to the bathroom.

Sitting on the stool, she thought of last night and who the guy in the next room was. She had to have been pretty wasted to bring him back to her place. His long, black, greasy hair was not the usual guy she enjoyed, she like the more clean-cut men. This one reminded her of an old bum from the streets, with her luck he probably was. She finished peeing, got up washed her hands and threw some cold water on her face. Heading to the kitchen, she saw her house guest, cooking breakfast.

"What the fuck?" she muttered.

He looked up, "Figured you'd need something to eat to go with that shot you had this morning."

"My Jack? Shit, I've been drinking that stuff since Grandpappy introduced it to me when I was 17." She grabbed some juice from the fridge and downed it from the carton, before grabbing a couple of plates from the cabinets.

"Well, a bit early in the morning for me."

Sarah shrugged her shoulders, and dug into the eggs and sausage that were swimming in grease, "Well this is a heart attack waiting to happen, but it's cool, thanks."

The two strangers ate their morning breakfast, and before long he was sitting beside her, rubbing her thigh up and down. Sarah really wasn't in the mood to fuck, but he had made her breakfast. Her eyes racked over his body, deciding that had to be the only reason she had brought him back to her place, she willingly opened her thighs for him.

She closed her eyes as she felt the first dip of his thick callused fingers slide inside her panties. Pushing her chair back from the table she opened her legs wider and leaned back. He slid his digit in deeper, screwing the hole and bringing slick moisture from deep within her cunt. "God, baby girl your one of the nicest pussies I've ever been in." He drove into her deeper and scraped the sides of her fleshy walls with his nails, bringing a hiss from her lips.

He stood up and moved his finger from her pussy, and pulled her up to him. His lips captured her's with his teeth, pulling on them, he moved his hand up her shirt. "Good thing I didn't get dressed, huh?"

Sarah bit back the, "I wish you had," and nodded her head. Stepping back from him, she lifted her shirt and pulled it off, exposing her bronzed breasts and hard nipples. Sarah prided herself on her tone body, free of tan lines, and every patch tanned to perfection.

"Sweet," he whispered out, as his eyes took in the round, globes of her flesh and flicked each nipple with his thumb. Sarah moaned, then moved her hands to his briefs, and pulled them from him, his cock bouncing free.

She smirked and raised a brow to him, "That explains it."

"Huh?" the man asked as he kneaded her firm tits.

"Nothing," she answered back, finally realizing why he was in her home: the 10 inch cock was the only answer she needed. Grasping it in her hand, she now didn't mind giving up some sex for morning breakfast.

He pulled her panties down and they both stepped out of the offending garments. Grabbing her ass he lifted Sarah to his hips, where she settled around him. Her long legs wrapped around his waste and she felt his cock hitting her pussy. He carried her into the living room, then sat down on the edge of the sofa.

His fingers dug into her hips as he lifted her onto his cock and slid her onto it. Sarah felt the 10 inches filling up her slick hole and shuddered as the tip hit her deep and solid. "Oh fuck yes!"

"Remember now, Honey?"

"Fuck yes," she muttered as she began to lift and fall on the hard rod that was driving into her. Sarah bit on her tongue as she rode the hard cock. Her pussy was pulsing with each thrust of his cock. She'd squeeze his shaft as she eased herself down and felt the base becoming soaked with her slick juices.

He told her to ride him harder, then he captured her left nipple in between his teeth and pulled on the tight bud. Sarah gasped and slammed down on his cock even harder feeling the slap of his balls hit her. She continued to ride him, bringing his stiff tool out of her pussy till she felt the tip, then she impaled herself once more taking him deep.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, as one of his hands slid around her waist and stole some sweet moisture from her sex. Sarah trembled as she felt her sex juices touch her nipples, then he went down and gathered more, never losing the motion of their fucking. Soon she was sucking the juices of her cunt from her fingers. When she felt his finger dig into her ass hole, her head went back and she began to push and prod his cock and his finger deeper into her orifices.

Soon she felt the knowing sign of a pending orgasm and she clenched her jaw as he slammed her hard against his cock. Sarah shuddered as she felt her cum leave her and wash over his cock. The teeth that were devouring her nipples, made more shocks of lust rake her, and more liquid heat flowed from her pussy. "Oh fuck yes!" she screamed out as he pushed his finger deep into the whole and ground his cock against her pelvis.

Sarah felt his cum shoot from his rod and bury itself deep inside her. She rode him hard, squeezing and milking his rod dry. He pushed her down and lifted her again, making sure she took it all from him, not missing any part of his fluid. Moaning against him, her nipples sore from his teeth, she looked down at him. She closed her eyes on the dandruff filled grease and rode his cock till all the shivers of her orgasm was squeezed from her.

He sucked softer on her tit now, and she opened her eyes once more, this time looking on his mouth suckling her. She felt his final shudder, then put a finger to her nipple and popped it from his sucking lips. Her eyes met his, "That was cool," she said and slid from his limp cock.

"Yes it was," he agreed, then stood up. Looking down at her, "Your a good kid, babe." She lifted a brow, and moved back to the bar, enjoyed another shot, and nodded to the door. "If you don't mind, I'm gonna shower and hit the streets for a jog. Show yourself out deal?"

"Deal. It was nice meeting you, perhaps we'll do this again?"

Sarah shrugged, "Never know."

She watched him move around, gather his things from the living room and the kitchen. Sarah headed to the bathroom and started the shower when she heard the front door close. Climbing in she let the hot water cover her skin as she worked the soap into a thick lather and cleansed her body of the smell of sex, sweat and booze. She wondered if she'd see the Allan boys out jogging this morning, she hoped so. She liked watching their asses move while she jogged behind them.

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