tagErotic CouplingsMrs. Steven Rudy Ch. 07

Mrs. Steven Rudy Ch. 07


Author's note: This is a series inspired by the song of the same title by Mark McGuinn, but all characters are my own creation. Any resemblances to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental. And while I try to keep my stories fairly grounded in reality, this remains a work of fiction, of fantasy even. So if something seems biologically or anatomically improbable, just remember the MST3K mantra: "It's just a show; I should really just relax." I welcome criticism/feedback; all I ask is that you be somewhat gentle, or at least constructive.

This is the seventh chapter in this series, so if you find yourself getting lost, it might help to go back and read the previous chapters.


Chapter 7: The Dance

Heather awoke before Mike again on Thursday morning, but she didn't have breakfast ready for him this time. Instead, he woke up to find that he was being eaten.

"Holy shit," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "People really do that?"

Heather pulled his cock from her throat and smiled. "You've never had anyone wake you up with a blowjob before?"

"That's a shame. It's a lot better than an alarm clock, don't you think?"

"Much better. And now that I am awake, why don't you give me something to eat?"

She crawled up next to him and kissed him. "I have a better idea," she said, smiling and stroking his dick. "My pussy is much better, and she's feeling a bit left out after yesterday. Think you can do something about that?"

Mike grabbed Heather and pulled her on top of him. She kissed him again and kneeled to straddle his waist. His cock rested in the cleft of her wet pussy, which she slid up and down his shaft. She stopped every few strokes to rub her clit against the head. Heather sat up and moved her hips faster. Mike groaned and grabbed her tits. He squeezed the massive globes before pinching her nipples. She moaned and ground her clit hard on the head of his dick. Just when he thought she might actually be about get herself off, Heather reached between them and grabbed his cock. She lifted it and moved her hips so that he started to slide inside her.

Mike groaned and thrust up into her pussy. He buried about half his length in her, and she took care of the rest when she dropped down on him. "Ooohhh, baby.That's what I need right there," she said. Heather rocked her hips on his cock, stirring it in her cunt with little squelching noises. "You hear that? God, you make me so wet. If I had known it would be like this with you, I think I would have attacked you before you even finished moving in. Just have you bend me over some boxes and fuck me."

Mike pulled her down against him and kissed her. His hands ran down her back, over her ass, and back up again. "If you had done that, I would have missed out on our Sunday morning chats. Even with all the waiting and teasing, I wouldn't change anything." As they kissed again, Mike wrapped his arms around her, planted his feet on the mattress, and pressed his cock up into her hard enough to lift both of them.

She gasped and smiled. Lifting her hips slightly, she said, "Pound me."

Their bodies slapped together every time Mike thrust upward. He rebounded off her crotch and let the springiness of the mattress provide some upward momentum as he nailed her. This is fun, he thought. He had always been the fuckee in this position, never the fucker. He found himself enjoying the change, although the sensation of his balls flopping up and down was a little distracting at first.

Heather lay with her head buried in his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his head, her fingers running through his hair and across his scalp. The position had Mike's pistoning cock continuously rubbing her clit, and her high-pitched moans almost drowned out the smack of their bodies slamming into each other. "God, baby, you fuck me so good. I love your cock. Never stop fucking me!"

"Don't worry," Mike grunted. "You feel too good." His hands moved down to her ass. He spread her cheeks and hammered into her harder.

"Yes!" she shouted into his neck. Her fingers curled in his hair, and her breathing grew heavier. "Don't stop! Please don't stop!"

"You like that?" Mike kissed her neck.

"I love it!" She lifted her head and shook the hair out of her flushed face so she could look him in the eye. "You're going to make me cum!"

Smiling, he slowed his pace. "I don't know if you deserve that yet."

"No! Please, baby, don't tease me! I got so hot sucking your dick. I need to cum! Pleeeaaassseee!" Fingers digging into the flesh of her ass, Mike gradually increased his pace until he was banging her harder than before. "Yes! Yes! Yes! YES!" He reached around to where his cock slid in and out of her, wetting a finger in the juices drenching his dick. He slid the finger up her ass and pumped it in and out. "YYYEEESSS! FUCK ME! I'M CUMMING!"

Mike fucked her through her orgasm, smiling at her twitches and cries of pleasure and pummeling her pussy until she sat up and begged him to stop.

"That was so good!" she gasped. "And then you wouldn't let me stop cumming. I think I almost came my brains out." Panting, she placed her hands on his chest and wiggled her hips. "It's your turn, sweetheart. I want to make you cum. What do you need?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Lean back."

Heather smiled, pulled her legs out from underneath herself, and placed her feet on the bed. Mike lowered his own legs and spread them slightly. Resting her hands on his thighs, she leaned backward until he could see his cock in her pussy. "Is this what you wanted?" she teased. "You want me to fuck you like this?"

"Oh, yeah."

Lifting her hips, she slowly drew herself up his cock, then slid back down. She kept the same slow rhythm for several minutes. Mike enjoyed watching his fat dick sliding in between the puffy lips of her pussy. He spent some time feeling like he was getting close to orgasm but unable to actually cum. The feeling drove him crazy, and he was unsure whether to let her continue or try to get her to speed up. Heather seemed to sense his frustration; she smiled at him as she dragged herself up and down his cock.

Finally, Mike had enough. He stuck his thumb up against her clit and mashed on it while rubbing in small circles. Heather gasped, but kept riding him at the same lazy pace. He rubbed harder and moaned, "Come on, baby. I need to cum."

She pouted. "This doesn't feel good? Your thumb feels good. I think I'm going to cum again." Her vaginal muscles clenched his dick for a moment.

Mike groaned. "It's great. I just need you to go a little faster."

"Like this?" She picked up the speed a little. He groaned again. "Or maybe like this?" Heather started to bounce her ass up and down like she was riding a pogo stick. Her tits wobbled each time she landed on his crotch. The sudden increase in sensation was too much.

"Fuck!" Mike yelled. "I'm going to cum!" He ground his thumb against her clit.

"In my pussy! Cum inside me!" The combination of his spurting cock and the thumb rubbing her sensitive nub sent Heather over the edge. "Gaaah! I'm cumming, too!" She collapsed on top of him, and they lay there for several minutes, panting and kissing one another. After their breathing returned to normal, she looked at the clock and slapped Mike on the thigh. "You get a shower. I'll go make breakfast."

"OK." He rolled off the bed, stood and stretched.

"Don't put any clothes on - just underwear and a shirt."

"Uh, OK. Why?"

"You'll find out. Just hurry."

"You got it, darling." He kissed her and slipped into the bathroom. He heard Heather get into the closet and walk out of the bedroom toward the kitchen as he brushed his teeth. After shaving, Mike started the water and took a quick shower. He heard Heather working in the kitchen as he dried off and put on a pair of boxers and an undershirt. It sounded like she was singing. He walked into the kitchen. Heather had her silk robe on, with the apron over it. She appeared to be making pancakes, and she sang an old Aretha Franklin tune and danced as she worked at the stove.

'Cause you make me feel,

You make me feel,

You make me feel like

A natural woman

Mike snuck up behind her and put his arms around her waist, swaying with her and joining in on the last couple of lines. Heather flipped a couple of pancakes, then turned and kissed him. "You do, you know."

"I do what?"

"Make me feel like a woman. I've just been a wife for so long."

"And the difference would be...?"

"Steven didn't show any real interest in me as a person. I was just one of his things. He had a beautiful home, a beautiful car, a beautiful wife. But you? You saw the woman." She pushed her body up against his. He could feel her nipples poking him through their clothing as her breasts mashed against his chest. "You touched the woman." She kissed him. "I could love you just for that."

"I love you for you," he whispered.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about." She kissed him again and handed him the spatula. "Can you finish up in here? I need to get a shower myself."

"No problem." He smacked her butt as she walked away. Heather squealed and swung her hips. Could this get any better? He finished cooking the pancakes. She didn't leave him much to do; three more and the batter was gone. He divided up the breakfast between two plates, which he set on the table with a couple of glasses of juice. Mike was just setting out silverware when someone knocked at the door. Who could that be?

A short, stocky man in a well-cut suit stood in the doorway when Mike opened it. In his upheld left hand, he carried a garment bag with two hangers sticking out the top. "Mr. Baker?"


"I'm William Stafford." He extended his right hand, which Mike took. William gave it three solid pumps and withdrew. He held out the garment bag. "These are the purchases you paid for yesterday. Everything is guaranteed to fit. Should there be any problems, come by the store and we will take care of it. I understand these are for the Pageant, so I would advise you to come before three o'clock to allow time for any alterations you may need."

"Yes, sir. Thank you very much." Mike took the bag and closed the door. Two hangers. What did Heather buy? The black bag was completely opaque, and bulged oddly at the bottom. He was tempted to open it, but thought it best to wait for Heather, even if it did feel like his curiosity might kill him. He stared at the bag, daring it to reveal its contents.

"It came!"

Heather's voice made him jump. Mike turned and saw her between the kitchen and living room wearing nothing but a smile and a towel wrapped around her head. "Did you know they were going to deliver this?"

"Of course, silly. I paid for it. Now give me the bag!" Mike handed it over with a grin. She grabbed the garment bag and dashed back into the bedroom, calling over her shoulder, "Wait right there!" She emerged a moment later carrying a black tuxedo jacket on a hanger in one hand and a black box in the other. She held the back to him, so he could see nothing of the cut or other pieces of the tux. "Go to the guest bedroom and try this on. I'm going to put on my dress, and we'll meet back in here, OK?"

"Yes, ma'am." He took the hanger and box and walked down the hallway to his second bedroom. Mike flipped the jacket around and laid it out on the bed. In addition to the coat, he saw black pants and a white shirt, green vest, and a green strip of cloth around the shirt's collar. He picked up the cloth first. It was shaped oddly, with a long, thin strip in the middle that bulged out to ovals toward the ends, with chisel shapes at each end. A bowtie? He only recognized it because he had seen pictures before. I don't even know how to tie this thing. He slipped the shirt on first. The fabric felt smooth and cool. Silk? How much did this stuff cost? He buttoned up the shirt, then put on the pants. He didn't see a belt in the set-up, but found that the slacks fit so well that he did not really need one. He opened the box and found a pair of shiny black shoes. Black socks sat on top of them. Shaking his head, Mike put the footwear on. The socks made him feel as though he were going ice skating inside his shoes. He donned the green vest before tugging the coat onto his arms. He stuffed the bowtie into his pants pocket. Turning, he caught sight of himself in a mirror over the dresser. Not half bad, really. The tux made the most of his height and gave him a dapper appearance that he would have never thought he could actually pull off.

Taking a deep breath, Mike walked out of the bedroom and back to the living room, which he found empty. "Heather?" he called.

"Be right out!"

Mike paced back and forth as he waited. He felt more nervous now than he did waiting on his prom date in high school. If this suit looks this good on me, what on earth is her dress going to look like? He spun on one heel and paced back the other way just as Heather emerged from the bedroom. Mike's jaw dropped, and he froze in place. Heather shimmered in her form-hugging gown. The garment was green, but he couldn't identify any particular shade. As he stared, he realized the fabric was variegated, comprised of several shades that blended so well into one another that even under scrutiny, it was hard to tell where one began and another ended. As Heather moved, it reminded mike of a tree dancing in the wind. The dress had slits running all the way up to the hip on each side, offering flashes of her beautiful legs when she walked. Mike's gaze reached the top, and his eyes about fell out. The upper half of her dress was a bustier that displayed her magnificent cleavage to maximum effect.

"What do you think?" Heather asked. She chewed on her lip, looking as nervous as he felt.

"I think you're gorgeous. Like I said last week, you are absolutely perfect."

"Thank you, love." She walked over to him and gave him a kiss. "You look pretty hot, yourself. I might have to keep an eye on the other women there tonight."

"Are you kidding me? With you by my side, I could wear a speedo in there and no one would notice. You're going to have all the men and women staring at you."

Heather laughed and adjusted the lapels on his jacket. Then she frowned. "There was supposed to be a bowtie. Where's the bowtie?"

"Calm down, sweetie. It's right here." He pulled the strip of fabric out of his pocket. "I just have absolutely no idea how to tie it. The only bowties I've ever worn have been clip-ons."

She took it from him and settled it around his neck. Her fingers worked as she talked. "I guess it is a lost art. My father wore one all the time when I was growing up. People say they look nerdy now, but I've always found them rather dashing." Her hands stilled. "There! Now you look perfect. Come with me." She wrapped her arm around his and led him to the bathroom, where Mike had a second chance to study himself.

She's right. The bowtie does make it look better - more complete, I guess. It's a piece that was missing before. The splashes of green in his outfit complimented her dress. "We look really good together. We look like a real couple."

"I know. It's great, isn't it?" Heather stepped away and turned to face him. "Here's something else you might like." She slid a hand under one of the slits along her thigh and lifted the front panel aside. She wasn't wearing any panties.

"Holy shit, that's hot!" Mike stepped over to her and kissed her, one hand sliding through the slit to cup her pussy. He slid a finger inside her.

Heather moaned, then pushed him away. "Baby, I'd love to finish that thought, but we can't right now. We don't want to mess up our clothes before the ball, and I'm afraid I have to go. I have an appointment at the stylist soon. Need to get my hair and nails done, you know?"

"Not really. It's not a guy thing. Personally, I think you look perfect, but if you think you need to go do that, knock yourself out." He kissed her again.

"Thank you, Michael. I promise to make it up to you later. Take the tux off and hang it up until around six o'clock. I'll be back before then to get changed. Just hang out at home and get some rest. You're going to need your energy later. OK?"

"You got it."

Mike walked back to the bedroom and carefully removed the tuxedo, returning each piece to the hanger as it had arrived. He hesitated with the bowtie. With a necktie, he could loosen the knot amd slip it back on later. That wasn't an option in this case, as far as he could tell. Sighing, Mike untied it and slipped it from around his neck. I guess she'll just have to do it again later. Once the outfit had been safely hung up in the closet, he walked back to the living room.

Heather waited by the front door. She wore a nice, if plain, tan skirt with a blue blouse and had her auburn hair back in a ponytail. "I wanted to let you know that I was leaving. I'll be home later this afternoon." She saw Mike smiling at her and smiled back. "What?"

"I just like the way you're calling this 'home,' that's all."

"Wherever you are, that's home." Heather walked over to him and gave him a kiss. "Now I've got to go. Remember: get plenty of rest!"

That, Mike found, was easier said than done. He sat down to eat his breakfast, and found that Heather and wolfed hers down while he was changing. He tried to watch TV, but couldn't concentrate. He tried reading, but couldn't focus enough to get past a single page. Sleep eluded him, and he wasn't hungry any more. So, he cleaned.

Laundry came first. He hadn't touched it in more than a week, and while he didn't have many dirty clothes, the last few days with Heather meant he had two sets of sheets and quite a few towels to wash. In between loads, he cleaned dishes and swept and mopped floors. One of the selling features of the house for him had been a lack of carpet. Bamboo and tile throughout. It had probably been meant as a low-maintenance option for the elderly couple originally intended to live here, but Mike liked it, as well. Once the floors were clean, he gave serious thought to washing windows but decided to stretch out on the couch for a bit first. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.

The front door closing roused him from his slumber. He groaned and stretched. "Don't open your eyes!" Heather called. "I don't want you to see me until I've got my face and gown on." Her footsteps hurried across the room.

"Mmph," Mike muttered and slid back to sleep.

Lips on his eyes brought him back once more. "I know I told you to rest, sweetie, but you need to get up and get dressed now." Heather's footsteps retreated once he started rubbing his eyes.

Yawning, Mike stood and scratched his chest as he stumbled to the second bedroom. He couldn't seem to get sleep entirely out of his head. Why did I take a nap? I hate feeling like this. He dressed slowly, concentrating on each article of clothing at a time. Shirt first, then pants, socks, and shoes. The vest went over his shirt, and the jacket last. He left it unbuttoned and hanged the bowtie around his neck. His head felt clearer by the time he walked out of the room.

As she had earlier, Heather froze him in his tracks. The dress was as stunning as before, but somehow between the salon's efforts and Heather's own, they had managed to improve on perfection. Her hair had been curled and coifed into a half-up style with a part of it somehow made to look like a rose at the back of her head. Aside from a bit of eyeshadow, Mike had a hard time discerning any actual makeup, but he could see the overall effect - her eyes looked a little larger, her lips fuller and a deeper shade of red. Her nails had been painted an emerald green matching her eyes. "Holy shit," he whispered.

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