Stacy's Taunt

As it was, he pondered the logic of it for a moment, though his sun- and alcohol-soaked brain seemed to have difficulty comprehending. "Yeah, I guess. Whatever."

Ten minutes later, a side door opened, spilling yellow light across part of the yard. Stacy slipped out and strode across the veranda to the pool, confident that few of her guests would see her in the near darkness. Silhouetted against the light, Rick and Dan watched her approach, trim hips and narrow waist slinking from side to side. She approached them at somewhat of an angle, and they marveled at the full outline of her gigantic tits bobbing beneath the bikini top.

When she reached the edge of the pool, Stacy dove, surfaced almost immediately, and breast-stroked toward the gawking men. She came to a stop beside them, keeping just her head above the water, her body concealed beneath its surface. She reached for Dan's beer.

"Let me have a sip of that," she commanded, her long fingers curling around the long neck of the bottle, the platinum of her wedding rings clanking against the glass. She tipped her head back, and poured some of the amber liquid down her throat. Dan heard her swallow over the humming of the pool filter. "Thanks."

"My pleasure." Dan took his own sip from the bottle.

"So, I see you've met Rick," she noticed, pulling hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ears.

"Yeah, Keith introduced us earlier."

"You havin' fun, Rick?" Stacy inquired.

"Yeah, great time," he murmured.

"Looks like it," Stacy said disapprovingly, moving between Rick and Dan, keeping her back to Dan. "So," she continued, addressing Rick, "what do you think of this kid?" She nodded back toward Dan, who floated on the balls of his feet behind her.

"He's all . . . alright," Rick managed to slur. "Kin' of a smard ass, though."

"Rick's always trying to get in my pants, Dan," Stacy informed him, floating backward, paddling her arms to guide her, her eyes locked on Rick's. "But I never let him touch me. Isn't that right, Rick?"

"Whatever." Rick took a drink from his tall scotch-and-soda, as if he needed more alcohol coursing through his veins. Stacy floated backward another foot or so and bumped into Dan, who made no effort to get out of her way. Instead, his hands floated toward her hips, resting there lightly, obscured by the darkness and the rippling water on the surface of the pool. He chanced a glance over his shoulder; there were no guests near the pool.

Stacy put a hand behind her as Rick poured more scotch down his throat. Her red-painted fingernails found the string to Dan's bathing suit and pulled it loose. The graceful fingers slid into his bathing suit, searching for the young man's thick cock. The bathing suit slipped over Dan's hips as Stacy's cool fingers wrapped around the shaft, tugging on the engorged tube.

"You're not trying to say you've gotten in my pants, are you, Rick?" Stacy taunted him a lilting voice. Dan's hands slipped around the front of her bikini and a finger hooked behind the triangle that protected her bald cunt from exposure, pulling it aside.

"No," Rick started. Stacy floated off her feet a little, leaning forward to give Dan a better angle at her now exposed pussy. "But I could, if I wanted." A confused look came across Rick's face as Stacy squirmed in front of him.

She laughed, then gasped as the spongy head of Dan's cock shoved her labia aside. "You can't do shit, Rick," she spat. Dan thrust his hips against Stacy, driving the length of his shaft inside her. "Oh, fuck," she whispered.

"Whad?" Rick mumbled, taking another drink.

Stacy looked at him with an evil gleam in her eye. "Do you know what this kid is doing to me right now?" Dan pulled halfway out of the tight sheath that was Stacy's overused cunt, and then slammed back into her, disturbing the relative calmness of the water around them. Keeping his cock firmly seated within her, he pushed Stacy forward so that she floated closer to Rick.

"No," he responded, the confused look still on his face. Dan reached around Stacy and placed his hands on her balloon-like tits, pulling the cups of the bikini top aside, revealing her monsters, nipples thick with excitement and from the cold water.

"Jesus Christ," Rick whispered, Stacy just two feet away from him. Dan thrust his bloated cock into her, gripping her tits firmly in his hands, the flesh squishing between his fingers. She grunted at the brutal intrusion. "What the fuck are you doing, Stacy?" Rick demanded, sobriety seeming to find him instantly. "You're letting this kid fuck you right here, right in front of me, with your husband not a hundred feet away?"

Stacy groaned as Dan slowly withdrew from her hot cunt, only to slam the thick rod back into her. "That's exactly . . . what I'm doing . . . and you're not . . . going to say . . . a word," she hissed. Dan loosened his grip on the unfaithful housewife's tits, letting them slip against his palms until his fingers found her engorged nipples. He lightly pinched them, and Stacy's eyelids fluttered with ecstacy. She was floating within a foot of Rick now.

"The fuck I'm not," Rick said a little louder, almost spitting in her face. "I've been trying to fuck you forever, and you always turn me down."

"You won't . . . say a word," she grunted, her eyes hooded over. "If you do . . . I'll tell that little . . . bimbo wife . . . about what you do . . . on your business trips . . . ." Though Dan hadn't known about it, it seemed that Rick traveled often and was not above cheating on his wife when in foreign towns.

When Dan pounded into her again, causing pool water to splash up and over her body, Stacy's attention returned to the kid behind her. "Oh Gawd, fuck me, Dan! Cum in my . . . unprotected cunt . . . right here . . . in front of . . . little Ricky," she moaned, the depraved words tumbling across her shiny red lips that were now only inches from Rick's face. He could feel the hotness of her breath, feel the specks of spittle that landed on his cheeks.

The thrill of fucking this slutty wife in front of this lecherous man, with her husband not a hundred feet away, drove Dan into a fervor. Despite the coolness of the water flowing around their bodies, his cum boiled over and coursed through his shaft, splashing against the slick walls of Stacy's cunt. He grunted once and then again as Stacy's pussy contracted around him, coaxing more sperm from his swollen balls.

Her own orgasm upon her, she bit hard on her lower lip in an effort to stifle the moans and grunts caught in her throat. She almost teetered forward into Rick, but broke her fall with her hands on his chest, the long nails scraping his pale flesh. Her little body trembled through her orgasm and Dan continued to hold her mounted on his softening cock, her mammoth tits cradled in his hands.

As their collective breaths returned to normal, she pushed Dan back causing his spent cock to slip from the heated folds of her cunt. Rick floated before her, speechless as she pulled her bikini bottom back across her bald hole, the top across her inflated tits. "Remember, little Ricky," she almost whispered, sensuously running the back of her right hand down his left cheek. "Keep your fucking mouth shut or that little bimbo wife of yours will learn all about you."

Stacy turned away from the stunned man and in strong, swift strokes, swam to the edge of the pool and lifted herself out, leaving Rick and Dan in the darkness. They watched her skip across the veranda toward the side door from which she had earlier come, water dripping from her luscious body. "How's that for frigid, asshole?" Dan muttered, replacing his bathing suit and swimming away from the still silent Rick and rejoining the party.

As the band started up, Dan grabbed another beer from one of the bartenders and found his parents talking to yet another group of people he didn't know. After fielding a number of questions about college and what he was doing this summer, he settled back and listened to the group talk.

After a few songs, his parents abandoned him for the dance floor. As they walked away, he caught sight of Stacy, standing in a group with her husband, staring at him. He smiled and was about to rejoin his conversation when Stacy gave a quick jab of her head. He looked at her questioningly, and she shot a quick glance toward the guest house and then back to him. Dan followed her gaze, took the hint, and gave her a quick nod.

Excusing himself from the conversation, he moved nonchalantly toward the bar and retrieved another drink. When he looked back toward Mr. Thomason, his wife was gone. So as not to attract attention, Dan meandered through the crowd, nodding at some of the people he had met throughout the afternoon. On the edge of the crowd, he saw Stacy disappear into the darkness of the guest house. Slowly, he sauntered over toward the pool and up the cobblestone path leading to the guest house. He glanced around to make sure he was alone before pulling the sliding door open.

He was barely through the door when Stacy materialized from the shadows in front of him, throwing her lean, tanned arms around his neck. Even in the near-dark, her full lips easily found his, and her hot, slippery tongue delved deep into his mouth. Dan groaned into her, savoring the scent of her perfume, the heat of her body, the firmness of her massive tits pressing into his belly. His hands found her hips but quickly abandoned them in favor of the superb work of the plastic surgeon. "God, I love these tits," he moaned into her sucking mouth, running the palms of his huge hands across her engorged nipples.

Stacy giggled and pushed away from him. Aided only by the faint light floating across the backyard, she strutted to the queen-size bed that sat along one wall of the simple guest house. "You better," she said over her shoulder, kicking off her heels. "I bought them for guys like you."

"I thought your husband bought 'em," Dan teased back as Stacy turned and sat on the edge of the bed.

He moved toward her and Stacy glanced down to her cleavage, considering. "I guess that's true," she responded, looking up at him as he approached her. "But I think he'd reconsider if he knew I only got them because young men like you love to play with them."

Without further preamble, Stacy placed the open palms of her hands on Dan's chest, rubbing up and down, marveling at the way his pectoral and stomach muscles felt against her hands. "Mmm," she moaned. From her subservient position, she looked up at him, her bright blue eyes exuding only innocence. The words that followed weren't so innocent: "Wanna fuck my face, young man?"

Dan only nodded and watched as the long red nails of her left hand reached out for the drawstring on his bathing suit. She slowly pulled the string loose, drawing the process out, the diamonds of her rings flashing in the dim light. When the knot fell free, she slipped a finger from each hand into the waistband, pulling the bathing suit loose.

She leaned forward and, using one hand to push Dan's shirt up and out of the way, planted a wet kiss on his ribbed stomach, allowing her wet tongue to snake around his belly button. Her free hand traced down the front of the bathing suit, manicured nails tickling him, causing him to gasp lightly.

When her hand reached the leg opening, Stacy allowed it to float back up, this time under the fabric of the suit. Her long nails rasped lightly across the webbing, tormenting Dan's sensitive balls. "Tell me what you want, Dan," she breathed, inhaling the chlorinated scent of his crotch. The similarity to the smell of cum made her heady.

"I want . . . you to . . . suck . . . my cock," he managed, pulling his shirt over his head.

Her lips still brushing against the downy hair covering his lower stomach, Stacy's elegant hands took up station at the bottom of the bathing suit, slowly tugging it down. A short, gentle tug dropped it an inch or; another tug, another inch. The spongy, purple head of Dan's cock appeared over the waistband and gently bumped against her chin, but she ignored it.

Instead, Stacy kept slowly pulling the bathing suit down. As the waistband traversed Dan's hips, gravity took over. The suit fell to his feet and his cock bobbed out, slapping against the tight, warm skin of her chest just above the conservative neckline of her sundress.

She leaned back and noticed her lip gloss smeared liberally along Dan's stomach. Her lustful blue eyes fell to the thick shaft that bobbed in front of her pixie-like nose. Stacy ran the tip of one finger along the underside of it. The soft pad of her finger contrasted with the scratchy feel of her nail, and caused him to emit a groan from deep in his throat. "What do you say?" she invited, her eyes remaining on the rigid cock. She could almost imagine the blood pumping through the veins that criss-crossed the shaft.

"Please," Dan groaned through gritted teeth, his knees growing weak as Stacy's fingertip traced back and forth, back and forth, along the bottom of his shaft.

"Please what?" she teased, her tongue darting out, swiping a pearl of pre-cum that threatened to drop to the Berber carpeting. She loved teasing this young man (any young man, really), reveled in the control she had over him, over his libido, over his engorged cock.

Dan groaned again. "Please suck me." It came out in a whisper.

"Please suck me, what," she continued to taunt, the red nails of one hand floating underneath his taut, hanging balls, ticking the hairs there. Dan, holding his breath, paused a moment.

"Please suck me, Mrs. Thomason," he responded.

"Gooood boooooy," she cooed, bobbing her head forward and taking the length of Dan's pulsing shaft into the back of her throat. She gagged momentarily as it bumped against her tonsils, and pulled all the way off. Her left hand wrapped around the saliva-slicked shaft, gently stroking it, the ostentatious diamond staring Dan in the face, taunting him. "I told you," she whispered. "I absolutely loooove it when you call me Mrs. Thomason."

Mrs. Thomason stretched her lips around the thickness of Dan's shaft, sucking the heated length of cock into the warm wet cavern of her mouth. Still in her sundress, she adjusted her position on the bed and wrapped her arms around Dan's waist, pulling him deeper into her mouth. Her fingers were planted on each of his butt cheeks, the manicured nails digging lightly into his pale white skin. She pulled back and admired the shiny rod that stood straight out from the young man's body, and then spit on the shaft.

"Ohmigod," Dan moaned at her debauchery. "So fuckin' nasty."

"Mmm-hmm," Mrs. Thomason responded, her left hand wrapped around the shaft, stroking vigorously. "Nasty . . . fucking . . . housewife." Dan merely nodded, his eyes fixated on the bright red nails and huge diamond that blurred as her hand shucked back and forth on his cock. "I fucking love . . . thick . . . young . . . cock," she grunted. Despite the air conditioning that hummed unobtrusively in the background, a sheen of sweat appeared on Mrs. Thomason's forehead.

When her mouth again engulfed the throbbing cock, Mrs. Thomason saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She bobbed her head along the rod and, on a back stroke, saw Rick step onto the patio that fronted the guest house. 'Fucking pervert,' she thought as her thirty-eight-year-old lips slid along the twenty-year-old shaft. 'I'll give that asshole a show,' she thought, wickedness clouding her bright blue eyes.

She released Dan's cock from her sucking mouth; a string of saliva connected her upper lip to the purple head before it snapped and fell to her chest, wetting the front of her sundress. Mrs. Thomason coaxed Dan's feet out of the bathing suit and turned around, holding her hair above her neckline. Dan found the zipper nestled in the folds of her sundress, and quickly pulled it down, exposing her lightly muscled back. Nuzzling her neck, he pushed the dress forward off her shoulders and it fell, hanging to her body at the waist.

With her back still to him, Mrs. Thomason wiggled her hips as the dress and her thong worked their way down before puddling at her feet. She reached behind her to release the hooks of the silky 38DD bra, quickly pulling it off her arms and dropping it the ground. Falling onto the bed and turning to face Dan, she growled, "Get up here, young man. Take me from behind."

Dan wasted little time moving around to the other side of the bed and knee-walking up behind her. The musky scent emanating from her dripping hole assaulted his nostrils. Mrs. Thomason, on all fours, reached between her legs for his jutting cock. Finding it, she took it gently between her fingers, pulling the shaft against her slick cunt lips, soaking it her in juices. "Put it in me," she demanded, looking over her shoulder with fire clouding her ordinarily bright blue eyes. "Put . . . that . . . college . . . cock . . . in my cunt!"

Placing his hands on Mrs. Thomason's narrow hips, Dan pushed forwarded and was immediately rewarded by the internal heat of her pussy engulfing his cockhead. Pushing harder, his shaft disappeared halfway to his balls and he pulled back, leaving just the tip of his cock inside the married cunt.

A second thrust forward found Dan's pubic hairs tickling Mrs. Thomason's exposed asshole, and she grunted at the almost violent penetration. Her head swiveled back around, facing forward now, toward the sliding glass door that led into the guest house from the patio. She again saw movement, this time right at the glass.

As the young man pounded into her from behind, Mrs. Thomason screwed her eyes closed, reveling in the sensation that coursed along her nerves from pussy to brain, reveling in what she was about to do. She didn't care that this was wrong. She didn't care that she was on her hands and knees, a kid young enough to be her son behind her, fucking her slutty cunt from behind. It didn't disturb her one bit that a huge crowd of people were a hundred feet on the other side of that door, or that her husband was one of them.

But knowing that she was being watched as she degraded herself for a kid just out of his teens sent butterflies scurrying about her belly. Knowing what she was going to do to that asshole who worked for her husband caused a knot to form in her stomach. Her eyes flew open.

* * *

Rick, standing outside the guest house, his face pressed into the glass of the sliding door, almost fell backward on his ass when his boss's wife's eyes shot open and focused directly on him. He expected her to scream and jump up from the bed, searching for something to cover her naked little body. He waited, but the scream never came, nor did she jump off the bed.

Instead, Mrs. Thomason's shiny red lips formed a lustful grin. Her manicured fingers grasped the comforter in a death grip, and she slammed her trim hips back against the smart-ass kid he had encountered earlier, the lucky punk who had fucked the object of Rick's masturbation fantasies right in front of him. Her eyes remained locked on his, and he thought he saw a smirk in them. His eyes didn't remain on hers for long, though. They were easily drawn to her pendulous tits swaying beneath her, the nipples erect and distended. Sweat ran down her forehead to her nose; it threatened to drip from her chin.

Through the glass, he saw her lips move, but couldn't make out the words.

* * *

"Guess . . . who's . . . watching?" she breathed, her bright eyes still boring into Rick.

"Huh?" Dan grunted, his eyes growing heavy at the pressure Mrs. Thomason's pelvic bone exerted against the underside of his cock.

"Rick's watching us," she whispered, whipping her head around to face her young stud. The fingers of her left hand threaded her damp hair behind her ear, and the diamond of her engagement ring glittered in the faint light that penetrated the darkness. "Wanna . . . fuck . . . with him?"