correspondent in a divorce suit.
'John, darling, this is my boss, Mike Kelly. Mike, this is my husband, John Peterson.”
John's smile was open and friendly, his handshake firm and dry and confident 'Howdy, Joan's told me a lot about you.”
Mike wondered why Joan was unfaithful to her husband. Peterson was satanically handsome, but not in an unpleasant way. His black curly hair was modishly long. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Mike suspected Peterson had spared him on the handshake.
'I'll get supper started,' Joan said. 'You two sit down and make yourselves comfortable.”
'You been treating my woman right?' John asked as Mike sat down on the sofa. Mike's heart skipped a beat.
'Uh, yeah. At least I think so,' he answered.
'Hey, how about a drink? I don't know where my manners are,' John apologized. 'Scotch okay?”
'On the rocks with a little water or soda would be fine,' Mike answered, surveying the modern living room. It was generally neat, but there was a clutter of books and magazines that he found intriguing. Something was missing, and it took him a while to figure out what it was.
'You don't have a television set,' he blurted out.
Joan, who had joined them after getting dinner started, laughed. 'We have more interesting things to do in the evening than watch the boob tube.”
'Wish I could get rid of mine, but the girls wouldn't stand for it,' Mike said.
'You're heading in the right direction,' Joan purred.
'Oops, supper's ready.”
Mike felt a wave of relief-John had been about to ask Joan what she meant. Dinner provided a welcome respite from the talk.
'Dig out the good brandy, will you Honey?' Joan asked her husband when dinner was over. 'I'll straighten up in here and be with you as soon as I slip into something more comfortable.”
Feeling pleasantly relaxed from the meal, and wondering just what could be more comfortable than a blouse and skirt with nothing underneath, Mike followed his host into the living room.
'Brandy?' John asked, handing Mike a mammoth snifter with a pool of cognac in the bottom.
'Thanks.' Mike savored the bouquet, and then rolled a sip around on his tongue. He was at one end of the couch. John folded himself down on the other end and scratched one huge arm lazily.
Mike was feeling warm and mellow from the two Scotches and the brandy. But when Joan came back into the room all the blood in his body began to stampede wildly in all directions.
'I don't know how you can stand all those clothes,' Joan announced, stretching luxuriously. She had certainly changed to something more comfortable-she was nude.
Mike gulped the remainder of his brandy, and promptly choked.
'I'll get you some more,' Joan said calmly, taking the snifter from his numb, shaking hand. 'More, John?”
'In a minute. I think you've got the right idea,' John answered. 'Come on, Mike, get out of that stuff. You will sooner or later, you know.”
When Mike began stammering and stuttering, Joan cut in. 'Mike, didn't you believe me when I told you John knows what you and I have done?”
Mike tried not to look at Joan, and found himself staring at John instead. Peterson’s muscular body was tanned a rich mahogany except for a miniscule bathing suit stripe. His cock was stiffening slowly. He tossed his clothes casually in a corner.
'Everything,' Joan said, holding out Mike's fresh drink. 'Come on, get up.”
Mike surged to his feet. He was acutely conscious of the monster knot in his pants and the turmoil in his guts. He had an urge to sprint for the door, but didn't.
While he stood there, Joan swiftly and efficiently stripped him.
'Now come on, you two, we're wasting time,' Joan announced after giving Mike's cock a fond tickle. She sat on the couch, and motioned to Mike to sit next to her. John took a seat on her other side. She held Mike's cock in one hand while she sipped brandy from the glass she held in the other. 'Makes me wish I had three hands,' she noted.
John put his fingers on her chin and turned her head and kissed her. Mike felt her fingers tighten on his cock as the kiss went on and on. John slid a hand over and cupped one of his wife's lush breasts. His calloused thumb stroked her brown nipple, made the rubbery bud swell and harden. Mike wondered what the hell the etiquette was in a situation like this. He was naked and aroused. His own pride, and the grip she had on his cock, kept him from fleeing screaming into the night. The sight of John fondling one of her heavy breasts was making Mike's gut seethe with lust. He was itching to join the fun.
Hesitantly, his hand palsied with nerves and horniness, he reached for her other breast. She purred deep in her throat when he brushed her nipple. Then he clutched her heavy jug, and her thumb combed across the head of his cock, smearing his goo over his meat. His belly was ablaze with lust.
With a quick toss of his head, he finished off his second cognac. His senses were swimming from the mixture of lust and alcohol. Joan broke the kiss with John, turned, and Mike felt her mouth fasten on his. As she sucked hard, she drove her tongue deep into his mouth.
'I love being loved,' Joan said as she broke the kiss. 'And John loves to have me loved, and to love me while I'm being loved. You don't need to understand that, now. Later you will. All you need to do right now is want me.”
Mike's battered brain managed to assemble the thought that she had the evidence of that right in the palm of her hand, but he couldn't manage to get the words out.
'Come on,' Joan said softly, standing up, and pulling him toward the bedroom by his prick. Mike went along like a robot. His insides were a whirling hurricane of lust and confusion.
In the bedroom, still clinging to his aching dick. Joan Jay down on the bed with him and pressed her warm, desirable body against his. She guided his hand to her thickly furred snatch. He felt all twisted up inside. Then she managed to obliterate everything from his mind but his aching horniness, and the searing flame in his groin. She fingered his prick and let him slide his finger up into her sticky depths.
Mike barely even noticed when the bed shifted as John joined them. He was nursing on one of Joan's tits. She turned her head for her husband's kiss. Mike kept pumping his finger in her pussy.
When she pushed Mike over onto his back, he yielded easily. He felt a twinge of surprise when he saw John was watching avidly. Then Joan straddled Mike, aimed his cock up into her cunny, and screwed herself down on it, and nothing else mattered but the feel of her hot pussy around his pecker.
John suddenly stood up on the bed and straddled Mike. Joan kept rising and falling on Mike's cock, kept making it blaze like a forest fire. She reached for her husband's jutting, slim pecker. Curling her fingers around it, she leaned forward and closed her lips around the thrusting phallus.
From below, Mike had a view of John's ass, his dusky, hairy scrotum, and his cock vanishing into Joan's sucking mouth. It was an incredible sight and his balls shot out a steaming flow of sperm. The pool in his guts got bigger and bigger as his cock was stroked by Joan's cunt. Reaching up, Mike clamped his hands on her tits, hard. He had to clutch something, anything, that would confirm that what he was feeling was real.
Joan sucked cock, Mike noted dispassionately, in a way he had never seen, or felt. Instead of the usual gross fucking back and forth motion of the head, she let her tongue and lips and fingers do all the work. The sight of her mouth embracing John's cock made Mike's own groin seethe with lust. She fingered the tender underside of the other man's pecker as she rose and fell slowly and gracefully on Mike's cock. He could see the way her tongue was swirling around the head of John's dick, and wasn't sure who was getting the better deal out of the arrangement.
Sliding his hands down from her tormented tits, Mike parted her pussy and found her berry clit with his thumbs. He saw a tremor wrack her torso as she gulped and slurped on the pecker in her mouth. John was clutching her head now, and was guiding her back and forth so his prick slid in and out of her working lips. A dribble of spit and something, oozed down Joan's chin, broke loose and spattered wetly on Mike's chest.
His own hips were bouncing now, jamming his cock into her cunt hard, with quick sharp jabs that made her tits quiver. Joan reached around behind John and dug her fingers into his ass crack. She probed a finger into his
