Spicing Up the Brew

He turned from Mary Lou, intent on going back out to the lab and retrieving the clothes he'd stripped off before coming into the office and going somewhere, anywhere—anywhere but where Mary Lou was—at least long enough to clear his head and figure out what was going on.

"I want you again." The voice was commanding, almost gruff. "Come here and fuck me again."

Doug knew he should break and run, but he couldn't. He still had a buzz on from the liquor and those chills were still . . .

He fucked her slower now, attentive to every command of what she wanted from him. And she drained him dry.

It wasn't more than two weeks before the fantasy began to possess Doug again. He fought it this time—and it was weaker than it had been the two times before. But it was still there. He was standing in the driveway, just in his jogging shorts, cooling down from a morning run around the neighborhood. And he saw her.

He had ogled—as had every straight man in the neighborhood—Suzie Winthrop from four houses up almost constantly since she'd moved in three years earlier—single again and with a good enough divorce settlement that she could afford all of the gym work to keep herself in luscious condition along with that Jaguar roadster, which was luscious in its own right.

This morning she was in tight, white short shorts and a red halter top. All he saw was her rear end, because she was hunched under the hood of her car doing something in the engine compartment. She was wearing spike heels. All he needed to see, however, was her ass, because it was her ass he had fantasized about. And not about sticking it to her in the cunt from the rear, either. His fantasy was to fuck her in the ass. He'd even mentioned that to a couple of the neighborhood guys, and they'd almost lost their wads themselves just from hearing him describe what he wanted to do to her.

He was dying to push a hand below his waistband and take hold of his cock as he watched her. It was hard as hard as it could be, and anyone walking by couldn't have failed to notice it tenting out a good eight inches. He was too exposed standing out here on the driveway, though. He'd retreat to his garage—the garage door was open—and stand behind his Beamer, where he still could watch her and jack himself off.

Just the thought of it raised a deep thirst and he took a long swig from the bottle of water Mary Lou had handed him when he'd started out on his run.

He'd felt the effects twice before, so he knew it was a drug of some sort. But each time it had been a little less. Still, he couldn't quite walk a straight line as he came into the garage and moved around the car. He was slightly shocked, but not really surprised, when he came around to the hood of the Beamer and saw her splayed on her belly on the hood of his car—naked except for the spike heels. The same spike heels Suzie was wearing as she bent over the engine compartment of her Jaguar four houses down.

Of course he knew it was Mary Lou. This time there was no deception to it whatsoever. No confusion, no bewilderment. The drug was just taking the edge off of any fear or anger he could feel and was making him feel mellow. And horny. Oh, so horny.

He sighed with resignation and stripped off his running shorts as he approached Mary Lou from behind, snaked a hand between her thighs, started rubbing her clit, and prepared to mount her. At the same time he made sure he had a line of sight on Suzie. He would hold onto to his fantasy. It would be Suzie he was mounting. And he could pretend . . .

But Mary Lou anticipated even that. As he fingered her cunt between her legs, preparing her for his entry, she moved her hands back and took his cock in them and guided it to the other hole.

"No, here this time. I've prepared it. We don't have to do the other now. And I know you want . . ."

As he slowly slid into his wife's ass, his eyes glued to Suzie and transferring the incredible sensation of the moist, tight channel, Doug let his whole world just float away. He didn't care anymore. As long as Mary Lou served his fantasies like this, he just didn't care. He grunted in supreme pleasure. Fucking faster and faster and deeper and deeper, his eyes glued to Suzie, his mind flying above the clouds, reveling in the tightness of her ass.

But how in the hell did she know he wanted that? Despite the ultimate pleasure of the ass fuck, a chill ran up his spine.

* * * *

"But was it worth it?" Suzie Wentworth asked. She was perched on a stool at the island bar in Mary Lou's kitchen, her perfect, long legs running for miles between the crotch-clutching hem of her white short shorts and the spike heels on her manicured feet.

"Yes, of course. He's hung like a horse and can go on forever once he's in the saddle," Mary Lou answered. She was still pouring coffee for the three women sitting on the stools across the island from her. Suzie was sitting between Samantha from the hairdresser salon and Maeve from Doug's office.

The women who had come together in the kaffee-klatsch Mary Lou called her coven were a mismatched set, but they were all best friends. And they would do anything for each other. And three of them had proved it.

"Do you think he'll stay?" Samantha asked.

"As long as I keep inventing encounters like these and giving him variety and keeping him a bit off balance, I should be able to do so—and, of course, with the continued help of that experimental drug you supplied me from the drug lab, Maeve. Thanks for that. I don't know how I could have put him off balance from the beginning without that. I think I can use it sparingly now. I decreased it over the trial and it seemed to work just fine."

"Don't mention it. I've taken notes, and the trials can be abbreviated on the basis of the testing on Doug. But do you think this is enough?"

"Well, the fulfilled fantasies—it was a godsend that what he wanted to do with Suzie was twittered about all over the neighborhood—might not be enough. But Doug junior coming along now, should be. I think he'll settle right down when he was a family to worry about."

Mary Lou was fingering her stomach. She didn't look it yet, but she knew what was coming in that department.

"And with his baggage and all, you still want him?" Samantha still seemed to be unconvinced on that score. But, of course, from the men she encountered at the bar, she had every reason to be skeptical about the men and the dicks that controlled their minds.

"It's got to work," Mary Lou said stubbornly. "I love him, and he's what I want. And with the conditioning, I'm sure in time I'm all he's going to want too. It's just a matter of being a loving wife. And it's for his own good. A loving wife's got to do what she's got to do."