Temptation

CHAPTER ONE-2

Suddenly, as the pounding of her saturated p***y increased, the mere act of listening to the Tomisek's lovemaking wasn't enough. Pam wanted to see Stan's tongue swirl across his wife's cunt. She had to see his face nestled between her outspread legs and she longed to watch Blanche's reaction. She hated herself for what she was doing but it was as if she had no will of her own as moving quietly, Pam reached for a beer case which rested against the side of the house. A heavy beer drinker, Stan kept a case outside the back door, returning the empty bottles to the box as he consumed several throughout the day.

Pam lifted the carton, then lowered it, placing it directly beneath their bedroom window. She lifted a slim leg and climbed on top of the carton. Now, the thirty-year-old housewife could see into her neighbors' bedroom with ease. The window was raised several inches and the faint breeze drifting through the screen parted the drapes just enough. Enough to conceal Pam's face yet allow her an adequate view of the Tomisek bed.

Pam's wide n*****s tightened into twin nubs of excitement and she licked her full lips as she saw Blanche lying naked and spread-eagle, a look of sheer rapture on her face as her husband licked her cunt with gusto. Stan's thick hands were pressed hard against his wife's inner thighs and Pam found herself wondering, irrelevantly, if her blonde-haired neighbor would sport bruises tomorrow.

If she does, it'll sure be worth it! Pam decided, watching Blanche with genuine envy. Blanche's eyes were half-closed, reflecting carnal pleasure, and her mouth hung open. Although her breasts were not as large as Pam's, they were more than ample. Now, as she thrilled to the expert ministrations of her husband's warm wet tongue, her t**s were round and firm with s****l stimulation and her beige n*****s stood straight up, stiff and pleading, as though they ached to be sucked too.

But Stan's mouth was busy elsewhere. His dark head hovered between Blanche's widely-splayed thighs and Pam felt her pelvis flame with desire as she peered through the window. Her heart pounded and sweat trickled between the deep crevice of her rounded asscheeks as she listened to the wonderful slurping, sucking sounds of Stan's tongue as it slithered across the sensitive creamy folds of his wife's gaping, quivering cunt.

"Oh, Stan," Blanche gasped, bucking and jerking as his warm tongue kept flicking across her blood-filled c******s. "Go up me," she begged, her pale outstretched thighs quivering. "f**k me with your tongue, honey!"

Stan paused momentarily to give his wife a wet-faced leering grin. "Say please, baby," he teased.

When Stan lifted his head, Pam could see the protruding petals of Blanche's parted coral crevice. The blonde's fuzz-lined love nest glistened with both saliva and the juices of feminine passion. At the sight of Blanche's stiff, red c******s, Pam felt her own cunt convulse, felt the warm trickle of her growing need as the stickiness of her crotch increased. God, what I wouldn't give to change places with her right now! she thought, panting.

"Please, Stan," Blanche begged, her voice raspy. "Please f**k me with your tongue!"

With a small triumphant laugh, Stan lowered his dark head, once again, into the pulpy recess of his wife's widespread genitals. This time, his face pressed even closer and Pam peered through the bedroom window enviously. His skillful tongue darted out, lapping up the oils of passion that had quickly gathered between the delicate folds of Blanche's p***y during the brief respite of Stan's warm oral member.

The voyeuring housewife with the ginger hair felt her own mound of Venus leak profusely as she heard Blanche moan with pleasure. Then, Stan's long tongue found the oily slit of his wife's cuntal opening. It darted up, swirling and probing as if possessed of a life of its own making Blanche's pelvis rise and fall sporadically.

"Oh, Jesus!" she gasped, her split legs trembling as the wonderful warm tongue continued to invade her slick vaginal walls. "Ohhhhh, Stan!" The blonde's wide hips thrashed about the bed, making her husband's head bob. "Christ, that's good," she gasped. "Deeper, Stan. Oh f**k me deeper!"

As she stood on the beer case and watched her neighbors, Pam's mouth felt dry but her p***y had never felt wetter. Nor had the fuzzy triangle between her long and slender legs ever pounded out its need with such fury. Seeing Blanche's pelvis respond in erratic jerks, Pam knew that her neighbor was soaring toward orgasm. When Blanche did c*m, there was no mistaking it. The rapturous blonde thrashed about the bed like a fish out of water, clutching the sheet and crying out in wild abandon.

Until now, Pam had only read or fantasized about soul-searing orgasms. Actually seeing another woman experience one made the frustrated housewife's entire body come alive. Her whole being was aflame and pounding with an emptiness and burning need that demanded fulfillment. Pam's enormous t**s quivered and their luscious n*****s poked through the clingy fabric of her halter as they grew rigid with s****l excitement.

When Blanche's ragged, breathing finally subsided, Stan wiped his mouth, grinned, and grabbed himself two handfuls of tit. "Was it good, baby?" he asked, confident of an affirmative reply.

"Ohhhhhh, Stan," Blanche sighed, gazing up at him with feline eyes. "It was the greatest." She ran her fingers along his hairy back. "You know, sometimes I think I like having you f**k me with your tongue almost as much as f*****g me with that great big gorgeous c**k of yours!"

Stan quit playing with his wife's boobs and rolled over on his broad back. "Speakin' of great big gorgeous c***s," he said, his lust-thickened prick rising majestically. "How 'bout goin' down on me?" His impressive p***s quivered expectantly, its swollen tip scarlet, glistening with pre-coital juices. "You just had yerself one hell of a good cunt-lickin', right, baby?"

"I sure as hell did, honey," Blanche purred.

With one hand, Stan reached out to lace stubby fingers through his wife's blonde hair while he grabbed the thick base of his distended prick with the other. "Then how 'bout givin' yer ever-lovin' one hell of a good c**k-suckin', huh?"

Blanche looked at Stan's huge, leaking spearhead and smiled. She wanted to go down on him for Blanche thoroughly enjoyed giving her husband a good blow-job. But it excited her more when he got a little rough. And Blanche knew just how to make that happen.

"Say please, honey," she teased just as Stan had done when she'd asked him to lick her cunt.

But Stan wouldn't go along with that game and Blanche knew it. He like hearing his wife beg to be f****d and sucked for it made him feel dominant and superior. But when Stan wanted s****l gratification, he demanded instant fulfillment. "I said suck me off, you b***h!" he commanded in his sandpaper voice, pulling her head down so that Blanche's mouth touched his crimson leaking c**k.

Pam's p***y was throbbing so hard, now, that she could hardly stand still. What a huge prick! she thought, her azure eyes wide with admiration as she stared. She watched Blanche stretch her lips into a wide oval and Pam leaned close to the open window. Is Blanche really going to be able to fit that big c**k into her mouth? she wondered, fidgeting as her p***y pounded.

But Pam never did find out for just then, she heard the rattle of a garbage can lid just a few feet away. Myrtle Snyder must be out in back, she realized, her heart pounding with sudden fear and guilt. Even though Pam had lived here just three weeks, she was already well aware of the fact that the slovenly obese widow who lived directly behind her was the local busybody and trouble-maker. It seemed that Myrtle Snyder had a genuine talent for being on the scene whenever anything sensational occurred in the neighborhood. And the loquacious woman enjoyed nothing more than repeating everything she saw or heard in vivid detail, regardless of whose reputation she damaged.

That's all I need is to have that fat old gossip see me spying on the Tomiseks, Pam thought, climbing off the beer case as quickly and noiselessly as possible. Her face flaming, she lifted the case to return it to the side of the house. Pam knew that she would be consumed by shame and humiliation if anyone discovered that she'd resorted to the lowly act of watching her neighbors make love.

And what would Ross say? Pam felt certain that her conservative proper husband would be thoroughly disgusted with her. Ross, who never made love unless the bedroom was immersed in total darkness, would be sickened to learn that the wife he considered so decent and respectable was, in truth, a female Peeping Tom!

Darting amongst the shadows in fearful silence, Pam fled home. Once inside, she sank into a kitchen chair, trembling. It had been a close call but she was fairly certain that she was safe, that, luckily, she had escaped Myrtle's eagle eye. Never again! Pam vowed in silence as she rose from the chair and went to the bedroom. Never again will I do such an awful thing!

As she sat before her dressing table mirror, brushing her shoulder-length hair, the attractive housewife decided to wait until tomorrow to phone the landlord about the clogged bathtub drain. The nearest public phone was too far a walk at this hour. And aside from the old gossip she'd just avoided, Pam didn't feel that she knew her other neighbors well enough to ask a favor. By the time Ross got home, it would probably be too late to disturb old Mr. Rogers, she thought. At his advanced age, Pam felt certain that he retired fairly early.

And Stan and Blanche Tomisek certainly couldn't be disturbed right now! Pam's p***y throbbed with longing as she thought about what the couple next door were doing. Blanche is giving Stan a blow-job, Pam reminded herself, feeling her pelvis swirl with a delicious warmth. I wonder how it feels to have a warm prick inside your mouth? she speculated.

Pam had never sucked Ross' c**k. Or any other man's. An only child, Pam had spent most of her young life caring for her widowed invalid mother-a selfish and imperious woman. Because the old cripple demanded so much of her daughter's time and attention, Pam rarely dated. Although she'd experienced some s*x over the years, it had never been good for Pam. Even though Pam's face was pretty and her figure voluptuous, she had little opportunity to meet members of the opposite s*x. The few men she did manage to meet were quickly scared away by her ill-tempered and sharp-tongued mother.

Highly passionate, Pam dealt with her s****l frustrations in the only way that she could. By reading salacious books and m**********g. Although her self-stimulation brought temporary physical relief to her lovely young body, Pam harbored feelings of guilt about the things she did to herself once her frail mother was asleep. And she vowed that if her cherished, and seemingly hopeless, dream of marriage ever came true, she would never masturbate again.

It wasn't until Pam met Ross Jamison that her life changed. Ross wasn't like the others. Despite her mother's rude behavior, Ross kept calling Pam, kept coming to the house to visit. Most of their dates were spent in the gloomy living room with Pam's mother hunched in her wheel chair, frowning her disapproval.

It didn't take Pam long to fall madly in love with the good-looking insurance agent with the sandy hair and gray eyes. When Ross proposed, promising to look after Pam's invalid mother as well, Pam wept with joy. Shortly after Ross gave Pam a lovely diamond engagement ring, the old woman's weak heart finally gave out. Four months after her death, Pam and Ross had a quiet wedding.