sending me to new orgasmic heights.
Orgasm was enveloping me, rippling through every fiber of my being. As I felt my body shudder and convulse, I knew that my guts were wrenching to produce a final climax that would be greater than all the orgasms I had experienced.
Suddenly my face was flooded with fresh goo and I knew I had reached the summit which I had been craving. As my pussy melted into my mouth, my bizarre self-fucking contortion seemed the most natural position in the world.
How perfectly my cunt and mouth fit together. How spectacularly my tongue surged up my tight, slippery pussy.
And in my ass, how divinely my fingers reamed me out, setting the juices in my bowels to gurgling.
At last, being unable to bear the ecstasy no longer, I let out a long, high-pitched scream and collapsed, dead to the world.
Who knows how long I might have stayed there. Eventually, I suppose, Carl Fennimore would have come looking for his horse and found me sprawled naked and oozing on the ground.
As it was, it was something warm and wet and rough that woke me up. Suddenly I came to as though I'd been slapped in the face by a damp towel. Except that it wasn't my face that was slapped.
I bolted upright and looked down at my crotch. Between my legs Firebomb's long, red tongue lapped against my cunt, licking me into consciousness.
'Why, you old sweetheart!' I exclaimed, thinking of how more considerate he was than a lot of men.
After grooving on a couple of minutes of cunt-licking, I jumped up, completely refreshed, and got dressed. Hopping on Firebomb's back like an old pro, I grabbed ahold of his silver mane and spurred him. With my bare cunt bouncing against his golden coat, I had a smile on my face all the way back to the highway.
CHAPTER EIGHT
As the weeks went by and winter started to fade, Leo found more and more excuses to be away from home. Left almost entirely to my own devices, I was on the road constantly, hitching for fuck after fuck.
Added to the sheer thrills I was getting, I had the added satisfaction of knowing that I was getting even with that bastard Leo. Revenge was not normally my bag, but in this case I felt like I was justifiably repaying him for all the misery he had caused me over the years. I hated to think of the pitiful wreck I would be if I just stayed home and grieved in a sexless vacuum while he got his jollies elsewhere.
Had I been a typical wife, I would have gone through hell feeling certain I'd been thrown over for a younger woman. I'd seen those coeds out at the university, and most of them were saucy, young knockouts. Under normal circumstances, thinking of my husband fucking one of those cuties would have made me feel dried out and useless.
As it was, I reveled in the games Leo and I were playing with each other. Where most women would have been frustrated silly by a husband that never fucked them, I used it as an opportunity to find more thrills.
Where most wives would have been sickened by a husband whom they were sure was cheating on them, I was exhilarated. At least if Leo and I couldn't be happy fucking each other, we could be happy by knifing each other in the back by screwing others. Every spasm of orgasm I felt from a stranger was also a spasm of sweet revenge.
The only problem was that I was insatiable. The more bizarre the sex I had was, the kinkier I wanted it.
I had fucked and sucked men, women and animals. I had fucked myself with my own dildo, and sucked my own cunt to climax. I had done it all. Gradually I started to wonder how I could, top myself.
I dreaded the idea of repetition. My whole point in going into hitchhiking for sex had been to beat the system. A dreary, boring system of a respectable middle class marriage.
Searching for a part of the city in which I had not yet traveled, I prowled the streets hoping a geographical change of scenery would spark the sexual revelation which I was seeking. On sheer instinct I stuck my nose into filthy alleys and dingy bars looking for a clue to stop my growing restlessness.
If my impulses had told me to get down on my hands and knees and blow a vomit-stained wino, I would have done it. At this point I didn't feel I could afford to go against my better judgement.
I had never realized how complex the city was. In the slums, crumbling buildings rotted away, their aging timbers housing hordes of impoverished families with no place better to go crime was rampant, larcenous children running through the streets like scurrying rats after they had snatched somebody's purse.
The deeper I got into the slums, the more careful I became, knowing that a mugging could put out my lights for a long time. The last thing I wanted was to be dead or laid up when I could be sucking and fucking.
But, still, despite my paranoia, I was fascinated by the whole experience of prowling the city's mean streets. I'd never known such sights and sounds existed.
Cars passed and I was offered rides, but I always declined. A lot of the drivers were attractive, especially a razor-thin pitch-black bull-dyke who offered to eat my pussy, but I kept on going, searching for some new experience that I hoped would liberate me from frustration.
In fact, perhaps it was because there were so many offers that I steadfastly said no. It was all getting to be too easy. Anybody could just lay back, spread their legs and fuck. It took a real woman to do more, to look for the real sexual challenge.
Craving my sexual summit, I went further into the city, walking the streets looking for something I couldn't describe. The neighborhoods started to thin as I approached a commercial district. The streets were teeming with life.
My eyes bugged out at the scantily clad women walking up and down the street and lounging in doorways. Hookers! With their tits practically falling out, and either miniskirts just covering their crotches, or hot pants caught up their cracks.
Incongruously dotting the seedy landscape, expensively dressed businessmen from uptown solicited them before they went home to their homes in the suburbs. As I watched such a conversation from across the street, I imagined what they were saying.
'How much for a straight lay?'
'Twenty. Ten more if you want me in the ass.'
'How much to swallow my cum?'
On and on it went in my mind as I strolled through the sordid paradise. As my thighs brushed together while I was walking I could feel them getting itchy. Something was stirring in my crotch.
After the hookers, a series of seedy dives spilled all over a couple of blocks called The Strip. The air reeked of grass and whiskey and rock music as the joints blared their smells and sounds out onto the street.
I looked inside one and saw a naked girl dancing on the bar, her pussy being eaten out be a drunk patron. The rest of the place was going wild, cheering him on. She practically sat on his face, enveloping him with her hairy cunt.
The twitching in my groin increasing, I walked on. In an alley I saw a girl not out of her teens on her knees giving a drunk a blow-job. He was so smashed he could hardly stand up, but he still came like a geyser in her mouth. Cum dripped from her freckled face as she turned around toward me when I walked by.
My pussy jumped when I saw her angelic face sticky with sperm. My instinct told me that what was waiting around the corner might even be better.
Suddenly I walked into darkness. Apparently my intuition had failed me for the first time. The block around the corner from The Strip seemed desolate.
But I walked down it despite my misgivings, unable to stop trusting my impulses no matter how bleak the immediate prospects seemed. Behind me I could hear the diminishing din of the honky-tonks, the mingled roar of rock'n'roll mingled with shouts of 'Take it off'.
Ahead of me there seemed only bleakness. Probably I'd entered the warehouse district, a no-man's land of seediness. But, still, I kept walking, some inexplicable force driving me on.
A block and a half later I stopped to get my bearings. The rowdy sounds of the joints were now a tinny
