Larry Hanger was fifty-two years old three weeks before he said, for the third time in his life, the words which, according to church and state, united him eternally with young Cindy Keller, now Mrs. Hanger. And now, only two months later, as he collected a few papers from his desk and slipped them neatly into his brief case, he wondered if he hadn't been just a little hasty in making a decision to marry a girl who he'd only known for three weeks!
There was no denying that she was cute, that she had long legs, large breasts and nice sized nipples, and that her cunt was as tight as a drum! What more could a man ask for?
But there was something about the new Mrs. Hanger that just didn't jive with Larry Hanger's desires… with his lusty interests! After all, wasn't a man supposed to be able to enjoy himself in every way possible with a new bride?! It had been that way with Susan before Cindy, and with Carol before Susan! Why shouldn't he be able to partake of this lady's physical gifts as much as he wanted, too?
He closed up his brief-case and looked in the glass behind his desk at his reflection. He might have been fifty-two, but he looked a heck of a lot younger. He straightened his tie, combed back with his palms the long strands of his peppered black-and-grey hair, and smiled at himself. He was a handsome rake-there was no denying it! And that young Cindy, sooner or later she'd come 'round. Or else. Like the others. Off and away! It was that simple!
Those tools would help her. If not, it was over. Who knows? Maybe with a girl like that, once she gets started it's no stopping her. The dildo and the magazines will have to do the job. I haven't got time to waste…!
He turned the next page of his desk calendar and started for the door. Tomorrow would be a new day. Tonight, as planned, he would go bar hopping with Ken Atwell. He looked back around the office, a final, check just to be sure he had everything. There's no sense sitting at home on a night like this… What the hell…! I've been through this before… She thinks she's gonna break ME down… get ME to slow up in what I want! NO WAY. She's gonna start puttin' out… or else… He blinked and realized that he was standing lost in thought at the office door. Smiling to himself, he pictured once more his new wife's young nubile thighs, the healthy patch of pubic hair that grew around her splendid pinkish pussy lips, arid he murmured to himself, "Oh, sure, I'll get her to come around… She's just got to! Meanwhile…" He flicked the lights off and exited the office.
In the anti-room, his secretary, Lisa Davis, was just then sliding her hand into her glove. "Oh, Mr. Hanger, are you leaving now, too?"
"Yes, Lisa," said Larry Hanger, his eyes touring the secretary's voluptuous body. She's got breasts like cannons… I'd give a whole lot to suck those breasts… Nipples like teats for babies… big ones… just looking is enough to tell! I should have hired a younger broad, someone less tempting… less distracting, anyhow…
"Yes, yes, I'm afraid so, Miss Davis, I'm going to have to call it a day. Unless you'd like to take a little dick-tation? Ha, ha, ha. Get it? Dick-tation?"
"Mr. Hanger!" she hissed at him, her eyes widening and her face filling with a hot red blush. "You're too much, sir!"
"Never mind that, honey," he said, regaining his composure. "I just get carried away every now and then. Turn out the lights before you leave. Make sure the service knows we're out. Thanks for getting that letter out on time, too. The Mag Co people will be especially happy about that." He smiled and turned, and with a quick little walk, one that befitted his stature and sense of position-he was a very successful man in his company-he exited the office.
Down two floors, in the East Wing of the building, Larry Hanger waited impatiently outside Ken Atwell's office. Wonder if that secretary of mine would ever go down on me… For an instant he saw her on her knees, her legs spread, and, of course, she was completely naked. He fantasized her hands rising slowly, like heating bread, her long smooth white fingers enveloping his hardening prick… her long sensitive hot fingers wrapping around his cock… tenderly squeezing until the bulging tip of his blood-engorged cock head squashed in between her thick moist wet lips… into her long deep throat!
"Mmmm," he hummed out loud, and Atwell's secretary looked up, saying softly, "Did you say something, Mr. Hanger?"
"Oh, ah, no, certainly not," he said, realizing that for a moment he'd been murmuring aloud. "I was, ah, just, ah… clearing my throat!"
The door behind her burst open and Ken Atwell stepped forward, his young frame large and muscled under a three-piece pin-striped suit. His dark, curly hair looked like Samson's locks, and his broad shoulders and large eyes combined to make his appearance formidable. "Look," he told his secretary, "get these things done for Thursday, and the rest can wait until next week." He looked up. "Hiya, Larry! Ready?"
"Yes, sir," said Larry Hanger. "Take your time though. I've told the wifey-poo that I'd be late."
"Good, good. I'm ready. Let's get goin'."
They bid his secretary good afternoon, and a few moments later they were speeding merrily on their way to a bar called The Half Moon. It was Ken Atwell who brought up the topic that was on both their minds. "You ever fool around much?" he asked seriously.
"Oh, you know me," said Larry, trying to keep from snickering. "I wouldn't fool around on a wife of mine, unless, of course, the girl happened to have some very special attributes."
"Like what?"
"Oh, I don't know… two legs? two arms? That kind of thing. She'd have to be very special, as I say."
Atwell chuckled. "I feel the same way."
Five minutes later they entrusted the car to the parking attendant and entered
one of Los Angeles ' best live band bars. After two drinks and some small talk, they both looked at each other and agreed quickly, "Let's get out of here? Some place where they've got what we're looking for?"
And ten minutes after that they pulled up alongside a huge billboard that boasted in iridescent pink letters:
LIVE NUDE GIRLS
TOPLESS
BOTTOMLESS
"This is more like it," said Larry Hanger. "Music is good, but it can't beat the real thing, eh?"
"Right you are," said Ken Atwell. "Let's go in."
A moment later they were sitting at the back of a more or less empty black painted room in a booth. They had a good view of the bar where the girls would appear when they danced. Suddenly, as if it was meant to be, the curtains parted at the back of the bar and a record went on playing an old melancholy blues number. A big-breasted blonde wearing no brassiere and little silver pasties over her rather large, swollen brown nipples, came shimmying toward the table where Larry and Ken sat. "Here we go," said Ken Atwell.
"I'll handle this," suggested Larry Hanger, unable to make out the girl's face
in the darkness as she approached. Then she was upon them, and he realized first chat she wore only a narrow, gold lace G string, and that her cunt, pubic hairs and all, was in ready view as she put her hands on her hips and smiled, asking softly, "Can I get you boys something?"
For an instant, Larry was stunned. His eyes rolled up and down the naked beauty's thighs, caressing her with his gaze. He ended up looking between her voluptuously hanging white breasts, up into her cool blue eyes, and then he recognized her, almost with shock, saying quickly and breathlessly, "Say, you're Angela Heet! You were at my wedding!"
"Larry? Larry Hanger?!" Angela's eyes rolled sideways and into the back of her head and then she blinked and looked at Larry. "Say, isn't this a wonderful coincidence," she said charmingly. She could picture Cindy Hanger sitting home alone with the tool she herself only that afternoon had demonstrated for the poor young bride. "I saw your Missus today, Larry," whispered the young, lusty blonde. "She had a gift from you!"
"Oh, jeeze," moaned Larry Hanger. "Did she show you that?" He looked sideways at Ken Atwell. It was something he didn't want to have to tell young Ken about. It was part of his image at work to let the people he knew think that his bride was about as hot and lusty as could be.
"She sure did show me that," said Angela Heet, her eyes keenly aware that the older businessman was trying to think what to say. Then she made it easy for him: "I kind of liked that gift. I wish I had a man who watched out for me that way. If you know what I mean." She looked from Larry Hanger to Ken Atwell and back again to Larry. "If I had a man like that, well, I'd probably give up workin' in places like this for the rest of my life!"
"I'll be damned," moaned Larry Hanger. "Where were you two months ago!?"
"Right here, honey. Right here, shakin' my ass and lookin' for you, I guess!" She smiled prettily, and then she dropped the hard-assed act, saying softly, "Let me get you two gentlemen something to drink. Then I have to do a little dance. It's about that time."
"Oh, sure. Right," said Larry, catching his breath for the first time in several minutes. All the time that they'd been chitchatting and getting straight on who's
who, young Angela Heet had been standing with her large creamy breasts nakedly hanging only inches away from Larry. It was everything he could do to keep from reaching out and taking hold of the two voluptuous white breasts… squeezing them, rolling and massaging them in his fingers!…
He watched the young nude dancer strutting across the floor and climbing the bar-stage. She motioned to the bartender and a song came on suitable for dancing. A couple of guys, two booths up from where Larry and Ken sat, hissed and clapped. Angela shook her behind and smiled. Then she started dancing, moving her hips in rhythm to the music, shimmying this way and that until by the middle of the tune she was squatting down, legs spread, pulling her g-string out so as to reveal between her supple thighs the pouting pink lips of her wet glistening pussy!
"Oooh, yeah," moaned Larry Hanger, his eyes nearly popping completely out of their sockets when he saw how tender and wet Angela Heet's vagina looked. "Did you get a load of that?!"
"How could I not?!" asked Ken. "She's too much! Look at those tits, man!"
"Yeah," said Larry, "and she's a hot one, too. None of this prude stuff! You know what I mean? That girl loves it!"
"I think I know what you mean," said Ken Atwell. "What do you say, after the show-"
"You took the words right out of my mouth," said Larry Hanger. "After the show we take little old Angela for a drink. Your place?"
"Why not?" Ken Atwell was staring straight ahead, watching the way Angela Heet moved. Something about the young blonde and the way she shook her hips and ovalled her lips and used her tongue during the naked dancing all added up to wickedness… hot, lewd wickedness… and fun!
By eleven o'clock the two businessmen had downed close to half a bottle of bourbon, and they were feeling their oats. Angela Heet had one more dance number to perform before she could slip out of the bar with the men. That arrangement had already been made.
In order to pass the time, they went to the back room of the bar where a color film was being shown. "Say," said Larry Hanger, loosening his tie and checking out the girls in the movie on the far wall of the small room, "this place has got everything!"
"Yeah," moaned Ken Atwell, his eyes staring straight ahead at the activity on the screen. "Look at that! You ever do that with a girl?"
Larry looked up. "All the time. Why not?"
A man was lying on top of a young woman with his face between her legs, his mouth glued to her cunt, his cock stuffed into her mouth. "It's the ol’ six-nine number. Don't you do that when you get the chance?" he asked Atwell.
"Sure," said the younger man. "Of course. I just wondered if you did, that's all."
"Yeah," said Larry Hanger. "Of course, Nothin' like eatin' a little pie to make ya horny as hell, eh?!" He looked back at the movie screen. The girl had her legs spread wide and her hands reached down to the back of the man's head. She pressed on the nape of his neck and pushed downwards as she raised her pubis upwards simultaneously. Larry Hanger could almost hear the click of the man's tongue between the soft wet lips as it stroked up and down across the girl's clitoris and splayed puckering labia.
"Wow," he said, "look at him go, man! He's eatin' her out like he ain't had none in a century or two! Mmm, yummy… yum, yum!" He watched the action on the screen, the way the man kneaded the woman's thighs, the way he pressed his tongue into her vagina and worked her puckered, glistening lips with his fingers and his tongue at the same time.
Then he looked at the way the woman was working the man's cock. She had it between her lips and she was bobbing 'her head up and down so as to make the prick shaft wet all over. It was as if he was fucking her face. That's how she was moving her lips up and down the thickened shaft, rubbing and licking, hungrily sucking it with all her might. It was plain to see that the movie was no simulation. It was the real thing. The woman was actually sucking up the man's cock, and the man was truly licking out her vagina. Both of them, both the man and the woman were clearly excited. His prick was bulging and thick and the blue-veined topside of the cock-shaft stuck out like a roadmap, while his lust-bloated testicles went lightly smacking into the girl's chin with every pump from his quick jerking hips.
The camera cut in for a close shot, one that revealed the woman's hot-tipped breasts. Her nipples were large and thickened, distended pink with desire. They glowed hotly, stimulated from the man's rubbing pelvis and pumping thighs in the sixty-nine position. The tips of the nipples were blazing red, obviously excited and aroused to the limit!
Suddenly, the sound track came on. For some reason everyone in the room had assumed that there was no sound with the film, but now they were startled by that very thing. There was the noise of the two people rubbing and pumping, their bodies smacking and wet. And there was the sound of the man's tongue licking at the woman's vagina lips, while from her end of things there came the sound of her tongue lightly caressing around the knobby thickness of his bloated prick cap. The thickened rim of his cock-shaft was the object of her splayed licking tongue now, and while she did that she breathed loudly, pantingly, sucking for breath in passion aroused from the depths of her licked vagina!
"Uuuuuhhhh," she moaned around the hardness skewering in and out of her ovalled lips. "Oooh, harder…suck me harder, honey… suck out my cunt… suck it… suck it good…" Her lips were ovalled to accept his hugely thrusting cock, but she could only moan on the tip of it now, so furious was the passion between her legs.
Soon she began scissoring her thighs to and fro on the man's actively bobbing head. Sometimes his face was visible, his tongue searing into her pussy, and other times her thighs enveloped his face and made it impossible to see him.
One time, when she opened her legs and changed her position slightly, thanks to where the camera was, Larry Hanger could actually see the woman's little white ass cheeks bouncing and jiggling in excited arousal as the man's tongue slurped and wetted the splayed lips of her pulsatingly wet pussy!
"I want you to do something special for me," said the woman, holding the man's blood-hard cock in her hand, out of her mouth, "I want you to-"
The sound track went dead. Everyone in the little room moaned. "What the hell is she gone a have him do?" asked Ken Atwell.
"I don't know," said Larry, "What a disappointment!"
Just then the sound track went back on again. The man was speaking in a guttural whisper, talking into her cunt. "I'll do it, baby, but first you do me!"
"Love to," she said lewdly, baring her teeth by pulling back her lips. "Eat you in every hole you got, my man!" She smiled and her little tongue darted out, heading for the slit in the end of the man's heat thickened cock. She dabbed at it, licking and wetting it several times with her splaying satin-soft silky tongue, and then she said, "I'll do you up right now, honey. Show me where you want it."
"I want it-"
Again the sound track went dead, and this time there wasn't even the accompanying sound of static. But it was clear what the man and the woman were doing. He climbed up onto his hands and knees and faced away from the girl. She got onto her hands and knees and with one hand reached under his body, from between his legs and behind him, and took hold of his hugely hard cock. With her other hand, she peeled one of his buttocks open and looked down at his anus. Then, sticking out her tongue, she started to lean forward, toward the crack of his ass.
"I'm ready, boys," said a live, female voice from the door at the side of the viewing room. Larry and Ken simultaneously looked sideways at the source of the syrupy voice that spoke to them so realistically. It was Angela Heet. She stood there dressed for the first time in hours wearing her tight white Levi's and her simple white T-shirt and no bra.
"Get a load of the real thing, why don't ya!" said Larry Hanger, giving the younger man a stiff elbow in the ribs. Then all three of them looked up at the flickering screen where the girl was lewdly pressing her tongue into the backside of the man's hairy buttocks, and then they left the little theater and traipsed out of the bar into the street.
"Ugly stuff," said Larry, secretly hiding the fact that his cock had stiffened while watching the film.
"Oh, yeah-the worst!" exclaimed Ken Atwell, wiping his brow in frustration.
"I didn't know you boys felt that way," said Angela Heet. "I kind of get off on that stuff…" She smiled prettily and let Larry Hanger escort her to the car.
Ken Atwell's apartment was luxuriously furnished with overstuffed brown pillows and down sofas, shag carpets and soft bean bag chairs. The light was mellow and the music he beamed in on his favorite radio station was conducive to love-making and seductions of the most ribald sort.
"You two sure know how to entertain a girl," said Angela after her first drink.
"Well, you know how it is," said Larry Hanger in as shy a voice as he could conjure, sweetening it with modesty, too. "After a while, you just kind of get a knack for these things. That's all. It's nothing special."
His eyes swelled and rolled as he watched Angela adjusting her position on the carpet. She had such large breasts, and such big nipples that pressed at the cottony t-shirt, that he could hardly keep from thinking about what it would be like to get hold of those breasts and press one of them between his lips. He saw himself tonguing her nipple and making her aroused in this way, actively licking and sucking her breast into excitement! The chills spread out along the slope of her lovely pendular breast, and she could hardly control. herself!
It was nice to look at her sitting there in a t-shirt and tight white jeans, because earlier, when she was wearing the pasties, he couldn't really tell how big and beautiful her nipples were. Now he could see, even through the cotton white shirt, that she had the largest brown nipples he'd ever laid eyes on. If only he'd met this girl a few weeks before. That would have made a big difference in his life. He'd have never married Cindy, and he'd have never agreed to letting Cindy get away without blowing him, and without giving him other sexual favors that he really enjoyed. He'd thought while courting his present wife that her timidity was just a question of experience, nothing more. But now, from the way she was responding in bed after being married for two months almost, it seemed like her shy behavior and her reluctance to get really passionate in bed was something more. No matter what he did with her, no matter how he used his big hard cock on her, she seemed to hold back. Maybe there was no hope. And he thought all of this while staring straight ahead at young Angela Heet's largely aroused nipples! Those breasts were inspiration to any man…! Just looking at them made his head spin!
"Something more to drink?" offered Ken Atwell who'd removed his coat and vest and tie. He stood with his hands on his hips looking down at Angela who sat on the floor alongside Larry's chair.
"No, I don't really drink all that much," she said.
"Say," suggested Ken, "would you like to try dancing for us here? Just as a kind of favor for me?"
"You mean just so you could see me naked, Ken?"
"No, really, I mean it. I've always kind of wanted to see someone like you dance in my living room. You can understand that, can't you?"
"Sure," she said, and, as if the music had cued her, she stood up and started shaking her rump and shimmying just the way she had at the bar. Only now she was wearing her t-shirt and her Levi's. It wasn't the same at all.
"You know," she said, slowing down some while looking at Larry Hanger who sat tapping his foot, "we need another girl, Larry. What do you think about calling your wife?" She didn't stop dancing while waiting for him to answer.
"I don't know," he said. "She's not real good at this kind of thing. She's so damn inhibited these days…"
"Really? That's too bad." Angela smiled. She knew full well that Cindy Hanger was inhibited. But she also knew that the young bride could be brought around, if – and this was a big if – if the men knew what they were doing. Like Cindy, Angela herself had at one time been very prudish. Now though, after a couple of years of experience, she loved sex – all kinds of sex! And if she could help another woman get aroused and interested in something new, then she would do that! She regarded it as a privilege.
"Listen, ' she said to Larry, "I was over at your house today, like I said before-" She stopped dancing and sat down next to Larry and Spoke in a concerned voice. "- I was there and I saw what you were trying to turn her on with. It's a good idea, too."
He watched her talk. Her breasts hung low in her t-shirt, shapely and large, and he could hardly wait for her to finish talking. He wanted to proposition her right then and there. It was too damn bad he'd married so prudish a woman as Cindy. If only he'd met this girl before.
"And I think," Angela continued, "we could get her to like sex. You know what I mean?"
Larry Hanger's ears perked up. "What do you mean? You think you – could get her to turn on?"
"Let's put it this way," said Angela, "I think it would be fun trying!"
"Oh, yeah," agreed Ken Atwell, sitting down alongside Angela, "now we're cookin' with gas. I think this kid's got some hot ideas, Larry." His face was a picture of lechery. His lips were curled back and in his eyes there was the gleam of a man who was envisioning all sorts of erotic entanglements with his friend's new wife – and with Angela Heet as well! "Yeah," he said, softly petting her arm down to the wrist, "I think the three of us could really get Larry's wife going, Angela."
She smiled back at Ken Atwell. "And if not, well, we'll just show her what we like to do. How's that sound, Larry? You think she might go for it? It would be like a personalized sex clinic, just ready made for your new bride!"
Larry shook his head. "I'd do anything, if it would turn her on. Cindy's so inhibited that I'd be willing to try anything!" Secretly, he was thinking that he'd try anything to get Angela to take her shirt off so he could see those big smooth pendular breasts of hers. He wanted to get his hands going on those mountainous piles of resilient flesh, and if bringing his wife into the picture would make that any more possible, then why not?! "How should we do it?" he asked, looking at his watch, "It's nearly midnight now. Do you think we should just call her up?"
"Why not?" said Angela, reaching for her glass of bourbon. "I think it would be fun." She downed what remained of her drink and then pushed the empty glass out at Ken Atwell. "I think maybe I will have another drink, Ken. Turning on young brides takes a lot of energy!" She looked at Larry Hanger who was undoing the buttons of his shirt. "What's the number, Larry?" She had a twinkle in her eye, the kind of lusty gleam that Larry Hanger found irresistible. He told her the number and held his breath while she dialed, wondering as he pulled his shirt out of his pants what kind of a twist his life was about to take…