Deprived/Depraved Wife

The job was way up in the hills, nearly two hours south of town, and after driving ninety minutes or so I realized why my small company had gotten the gig: no one else wanted to travel so far to such a remote location. I was desperate for business though, after the year I'd just experienced. My divorce had been messy and very expensive, and I just couldn't really afford to turn anything down. And I knew I'd be getting paid well. The name of the home's owner was familiar. He was a hot-shot real estate developer, or had been until a year or so earlier. There had been rumors of serious health issues in the local financial pages. I hadn't heard anything about him for some time.

His wife had offered me the job over the phone, assuring me that I'd be paid extra for travelling expenses. The sound of her voice and what she had to tell me provided the final incentive for accepting it, if indeed I needed one.

"It involves some special video camera installation," she explained with her sultry, sexy voice. "In one of our bedrooms."

I was hooked. I was intrigued. And not just by the nature of the job. That voice was so interesting. There was a kind of appeal in it that I couldn't quite figure out. And a youthfulness. I understood her husband to be in his fifties, but his wife sounded so much younger, somehow.

Imagination can be deceiving, of course, but in this case it turned out to be not far off the mark. She met me in the courtyard of the palatial mansion as I parked and I immediately took her to be in her mid-twenties. She was petite and slender, but remarkably full-breasted in her short summer dress. She had terrific legs and one of the most stunningly beautiful faces I've ever come across. She'd been working as a model, I learned later, when her future husband first clapped eyes on her.

She shook my hand and led me through the ground floor of the rambling old house. It dated from the 1930's, apparently, the only concessions to modernity a fabulous updated kitchen and a huge emerald pool in back. Then she led me upstairs where I was to meet her husband.

"He suffered a severe stroke two years back which has left him --- incapacitated," she explained. "He only leaves his bed twice a week when he's driven into town for therapy."

I was suddenly standing at the foot of an enormous bed being introduced to the once vigorous and successful Ralph Knight and it was no small shock. He might still be the head of a thriving business but he was now a shell of a man. He stared at me with dark, intense eyes from his bank of pillows and there was a labored half-wave of an emaciated hand but no word, no sound at all. We simply stared at each other for maybe thirty seconds and then Holly, for that was her name, was leading me down to a basement bedroom, which was apparently where the cameras were to be installed.

"This will seem strange to you I know," she said, "but you'll be paid well for your discretion in the matter. He wants cameras mounted around this bed so that he can watch me --- perform. I'll give you the details later."

Without waiting for my response she led me through the bright and cheerful lower level, with a small office space in one corner and glass doors opening onto the apron of the swimming pool. There was an exercise room down here also and a large bed with another full bathroom close by. She tried to keep up her husband's business affairs from here, she explained, though most of it was in the hands of very capable associates in the city.

"Your husband, then, can't ---." I paused, unsure quite what I wanted to say.

But she was ahead of me.

"He can't do much of anything," she stated, leading me out through the glass doors to sit by the pool.

"How then, exactly, do you communicate?"

"He types things, very slowly, with one finger, on his laptop. He gives me instructions."

We sat quietly then, in the sweet sunlight, both of us lost in thought for a while. Till she finally broke the silence by asking how long I thought the job would take and other mundane details. I promised to be back within a day or so with my two helpers, and then I was on my way.

As I drove off I could see her in the rear-view mirror standing at her front door with her arms crossed. She watched me till I was out of sight and I felt a pang of such tenderness for her, stuck way out here with an incapacitated husband and the occasional professional attendant. I wondered when was the last time she'd had sex.

* * *

The job was a bit trickier than I'd first envisioned, but my two helpers were experts. Rodney had also recently been through an unpleasant divorce and we sympathized and supported each other as we ground through our days. We'd grown pretty close and spent time together when we weren't working. Ike was a young mechanical whiz, tall and athletic and full of wry humor. He was single and spent his evenings prowling the clubs, and from what I could gather he was very successful. He kept Rodney and me entertained with tales of his sexual exploits. He never came to work late, though he was often hung over, and his extra-curricular activities never seemed to affect his days with us. He'd only been with me for eight months but proved himself totally reliable and by now indispensable.

We all worked well together, and on this job our only real distraction was Holly as she strode to the pool for her daily exercise in the skimpiest teal bikini. What an ass. What tits. I'm amazed we stayed as concentrated as we did.

Rodney and Ike had followed me up to the mansion in the equipment van while I drove my old compact and within two days we had the job close enough to completion that I could send them home early while I cleaned up and reported to Holly on our progress. We couldn't really test and sign off on the project until Ralph returned from his bi-weekly overnight stay in the city hospital, where he regularly underwent various tests. He'd been gone since early that morning.

"That young woman sure is a looker," Rodney commented quietly as I walked them to the van.

"Yeah. What do you think she does for nooky?" Ike grinned. "I don't think old Ralph is up to much."

"She must have her outlets," I suggested, wondering just what those outlets could possibly be.

It took me another hour to finish up and I must have looked pretty grubby by the time I was done. Holly laughed and said I could use the basement shower before my long drive back to the city. As I relaxed under the warm spray I found myself growing erect as I thought of Holly and her possible outlets. I had no idea that within minutes I would have a much clearer insight into what that lovely young lady was all about.

When I came out of the shower she was sitting at her desk with a bottle of gin and two glasses. She wore a short bathrobe and her hair was wet, as if she'd just come from the pool.

"Thanks again for the use of the shower," I smiled at her.

"I should have invited you to use the pool. Sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"I was pretty greasy. I needed the shower. I'm about to drive back to the city. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"You could have a drink with me. Keep me company."

I pulled up a chair next to her as she poured me a shot and added some tonic from an open can.

"It must get pretty lonely out here so far from everything. And your husband in his condition. You must care deeply for him."

She gave me a long level look.

"Not really. He's twenty five years older than me. It was a marriage of --- convenience. For me."

"There must have been some attraction. For you."

"All monetary, I assure you. I had very little to offer other than my looks. And sex. And I wanted the life-style. Never having to worry about money. I've paid for it though, in many ways."

"By having an invalid on your hands."

"That, and in other ways. Ralph wasn't the nicest guy in the world, believe me. He could be charming in company. And he was an excellent salesman. But he was often verbally abusive, in private. And on more than one occasion he came close to being physically so. I could see it in his eyes. He's been quite a bastard, actually."

"And yet you stayed with him. Even now."

"Oh, I have my reasons."

She took a long swig of her highball. I think she was a little tipsy already. Very talkative.

"I'm his only surviving heir. Over the years he's alienated everyone in his real family. His ex-wives. Two of them. His grown kids. There's nobody left but me. When he passes, all this is mine."

She swung a lazy arm to encompass the house, the pool, the Porsche and BMW in the garage. The real estate holdings. The business. Who knew what else?

"Still, you've been courageous to stay on, all alone, under these circumstances. His illness. Two years is a long time."

"There's occasional help around the house. And medical attention. But you're right, two years is a long time. Especially for someone my age. I'm a young woman."

"How did you manage?"

She gave me a long, quiet look.

"It wasn't easy. It can send you a little crazy, I think, a period in your life like that. So little contact. Virtually none, in fact. I never masturbated so much in all my life."

I watched her without saying a word.

"And I began to have these wild fantasies. I've always been a fairly imaginative person, but this period sent me to a whole new level."

"What kind of fantasies?"

"Oh, it's kind of embarrassing to talk about. Dirty fantasies. Really dirty, erotic fantasies."

"For example?" I felt a sudden distinct stirring in my crotch.

"Oh, I fantasized about having sex with more than one man at the same time. Sometimes a whole group of men. A gangbang. Like I said, really wild stuff."

She paused, stared at me levelly again with those incredible blue-green eyes.

"I'd imagine what it would be like to be man-handled by a whole group of guys, to be fucked by them all. To be taken anally. To be double-penetrated. And then what it would feel like to have them all come on me, especially all over my face. And then even ---"

She stopped in mid-sentence, dropped her eyes and blushed.

"What?"

"And I even imagined them all peeing on me. Golden showers I think it's called. Can you imagine?"

I could. My cock was by now more than half erect in my jeans. It was an effort to keep my voice even.

"Wow. I'm no psychiatrist, but those are pretty impressive fantasies."

"Do you think I'm crazy? Has this experience sent me over the edge?"

I smiled as warmly as I knew how.

"I don't think you're crazy at all. You're a lovely young woman who's going through an ordeal. Who's been suffering sexual deprivation. Nothing a good fuck won't cure, if you'll forgive the crudity."

She laughed. "A good fuck with whom, under these circumstances?"

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but this whole set-up you and your husband are installing, surely it's not just so you can strip-tease on your bed for him. He's already seen you naked. Doesn't he want to watch you fucking and sucking someone?"

Again she laughed. Again she blushed.

"Of course. You're right. That's the whole idea. The only major problem left, is who do we get to fuck me?"

* * *

He stood up, moved slowly around to stand in front of her. His now fully erect cock formed a humungous bulge in his jeans. It was right before her face, and her eyes were glued to it.

"Are you applying for the position?"

"I've already done most of the prep work. Maybe I should be the one to test the equipment with you. We want to be sure everything works, don't we?"

"Absolutely. I can't think of a more qualified candidate. You're hired."

She reached up for his belt and began unbuckling. In seconds his zipper was down and his jeans hauled off his hips to mid-thigh. The bulge in his shorts was monstrous in front of her face. An oily spot dampened the fabric.

'My God," she muttered, licking her lips.

She hooked her fingers into the waist-band of his shorts and tugged down. A thick, heavy hunk of cock swayed into view.

She stared at it wide-eyed, glanced up into his face, then back at his erection. A pearl of clear fluid had seeped from its tip and she quickly scooped it up with her tongue.

"It's beautiful," she whispered. "I love it. You have a fabulous cock."

She dipped her head and planted a soft wet kiss on his purple glans. Her tongue curled around the underside. Her blue-green eyes blinked up at him for a moment before her full lips folded over his cockhead to absorb two or three inches of rock-hard shaft. Her right hand circled the base while her left gently scooped in his balls.

"I think you've done this before," he teased, stroking up the hair alongside her face with one hand.

"Many months ago," she grinned, pulling her mouth off his hard-on for a second. "My technique may be a little rusty."

I don't think so, he thought, gazing down at her stunningly beautiful face as she sank her mouth once more onto his throbbing shaft. Her pulpy lips took in over half his prick, paused for a second, then began a steady up and down motion, milking him. Her fingers on his balls massaged the velvet sac while her other hand gently shucked the base.

She seemed able to take in more and more of the shaft on each down-stroke. She began to snort against his pubic mound. In seconds she had engorged the entire shaft and she paused again, this time with his cockhead embedded somewhere deep in her throat.

She held the pose for several long seconds, her lips stretched to capacity, her cheeks inflating and deflating gently. It occurred to him suddenly that he would have to try to capture this on the hand-held camera that he could see on a side table ready for action. If her husband wanted to see his beautiful young wife acting like a seasoned porno star, he was in for a treat.

"Ahhh!" she gasped, pulling her mouth up and off his wet, steaming shaft. "Fuck, I love to suck cock! I'd forgotten how much I love sucking cock!"

She was gripping his prick in one hand and suddenly rubbing in into her face, mashing the drooling head into her cheeks, her forehead, her eyes, before ramming it back into her mouth and starting to suck all over again. Up and down went her head, in synch with her fist pumping the base.

"Holly, sweetie," he murmured, touching her cheek. "You keep that up and I'm going to be shooting within seconds. I want this to last. I want to fuck you real bad."

"Ahhh!" she gasped again, drawing her mouth off his cock at last. "You must think I'm a total slut, hey? A fucking whore?"

She was gazing up at him with those awesome eyes, her mouth agape, her lips raw and ragged looking from all her sucking. Her nostrils flared with her heavy breathing. A film of light sweat glistened on her forehead.

"You're not a slut. You're not a whore. You're not doing this for money. At this point you're not even doing it for your husband, since we're not getting this on camera. You're just a wonderful, needy young woman who craves sex. Who obviously loves sex. You've been without it too long, is all. You've been deprived. But not any more. Not if I have anything to do with it. You're going to be getting all the sex you need and then some, from now on. You're going to be getting so much cock you'll be begging for mercy."

"You promise?" she grinned up at him. And she made a motion to cram his cock back in her mouth.

But he was reaching down for her, lifting her from her chair and leading her to the foot of the bed. He was shucking off his jeans and shorts, stripping off his shirt. He grabbed the hand-held camera and laid it to one side on the bed. Then he was opening up her bathrobe, tossing it aside. He turned her around and began loosening her bikini top from her magnificent tits.

"You really want to fuck me," she muttered, as if such a thing were hard to believe. "You really want that lovely hard cock inside me?"

"That's the general idea," he announced. He was reaching around her from behind, cupping her heavy tits, squeezing them, kneading them, tweaking her erect nipples with his thumb tips.

"Oh my God," he whispered, his voice awe-struck. "Such tits. Such incredible, amazing tits."

He was kissing her shoulders, her neck. He was slotting his rock-hard prick against her butt, between her buns, forcing the damp fabric of her bikini bottom into the crack of her ass. He began to hump back and forth between her buns, his cock so big it grazed the small of her back.

He fondled her tits for the better part of a minute, amazed at such breasts on such a slender woman. Then he was gently turning her around. He bent to his knees, kissed her crotch through her bikini bottom. His fingers hauled this last remaining garment down and she was standing in front of him naked and softly trembling.

"I want you to fuck me so bad. Please, please, ram your cock up inside me and fuck me blind."

"First I have to make sure you're wet enough," he teased. "How do we know you're wet enough?"

He was staring at her beautiful cunt, the entire pubic mound and labia shaved clean. The outer lips were parted slightly already and held a pearly trail of fluid between the pulpy slabs.

"I'm so fucking wet you could probably get two cocks in there," she panted. "Please fuck me. I need your cock inside me!"

"You shaved! You glorious, horny little cunt, you shaved!" he raved, easing her into a sitting position at the foot of the bed then gently lowering her onto her back.

"I shaved for you. In case we got together. I had a feeling we would be fucking before long."

She hooked her heels onto the bed and let her thighs fall wide open. Her pussy lips gaped wider as she did so. The inner folds of her labia were visible now, wet and shining pink. He could see the sweet soft oval of her vulva and her swollen clit

peeking at the apex.

"Talk dirty to me like that," she went on. "Call me cunt and slut and whore and whatever you want. I want to hear dirty words. You can degrade me, demean me, abuse me all you want."

"Talk much more like that and I'll be coming before I get inside you," he croaked. And before she could say anymore he began kissing and licking the pulpy outer lips of her labia, cleaning up the excess juices that were gathered there.

"Oh sweet fuck! Oh sweet fuck!" she panted. Already he could feel the insides of her thighs trembling.

He began teasing the pink inner folds of her pussy, the sweet, rubbery creases of cunt flesh. His fingertips pried wide open the pulpy outer lips till he had a clear view of her girly interior. He touched her swelling clit once or twice as a teaser and a quiver rippled up the entire length of her body.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" she hissed.

She was oozing fluid seemingly by the quart at this point, her pink inner flesh gleaming with the stuff. And to take pity on her he went to work on her clit with increased taps and flicks of his tongue. The quivers and quakes of her body increased. Her ass rose up off the bed and she forced her crotch harshly onto his face.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" she howled, her voice reaching a fever pitch. "Eat me like that! Suck me off!"

His tongue pressed hard on her clit. He diddled it back and forth and then pressed hard again. And her movements were now becoming so erratic he wondered if he could stay with her. He was holding his breath, licking and sucking and teasing her clit to finally bring her off while gasping in short bouts of air from time to time.

And then she was there, squirming and rotating on the bed and mashing her cunt onto his face. Her belly was quaking. Her tits were heaving and trembling. Her one hand clutched his hair and held him fast while the other grasped a hunk of bedspread and twisted it into a knot.

"Oh you dirty sweet bastard! You beautiful cunt-teaser!" she yowled. "I'm coming! I'm coming! I'm coming!"

He clutched the taut flesh of her ass cheeks as she rotated, still crushing her gaping twat onto his face. And there was more liquid now, warm jets of pussy juice squirting out on either side of his head, drenching his cheeks, filling his mouth, splashing into his eyes.