Telemarketing Turnabout Pt. 08

Hi there! Becca is back.

I'm putting this one back in the Mature category, but it could also fit in Loving Wives, or even Group Sex.

This storyline was one of my earlier efforts, and I left it a bit unresolved. For that I apologize. I hope this one works, and you enjoy reading it.

When you're done, please send me some feedback, and cast your votes.

Thanks again.

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We had a lovely flight back home from Vegas. The airline gods even blessed our union with a free upgrade to the first class cabin, which allowed us to stretch out and be comfortable.

My darling wife...that was going to get some getting used to, the 'wife' bit... took getting comfortable to new levels. We were barely off the ground before she made a restroom visit, and came back with a sly little grin on her face. Becca was a never ending surprise, and as she took her seat beside me, she pressed something into my hand. Something she had hidden under her arm. Something fabric.

I cautiously peeked at the item...actually, two items...and found her panties and bra. She pretended not to see me glance at her, but the smirk told me otherwise.

"You do realize, it's going to be difficult to sneak into that bathroom together, given all these people facing that direction, and the fact it's only twenty feet away?" I whispered into her ear.

"Yes, I do. If it comes to that, I suggest we walk to the back restroom. I just wanted you to know that my pussy is wet, open, and uncovered under my skirt," she smiled, whispering back. "My nipples are quite hard, as well."

Yes. That much I could see, as her thimble-like nubs poked at her blouse. She lifted the armrest between us, and leaned into my side, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. She pressed my hand against the side of her breast, and sighed contentedly.

The flight was not really long enough for any extracurriculars anyway, but we cuddled, and I fondled her covertly, until the plane began its approach.

When the stewardess made her rounds, asking everyone to prepare for landing, Becca had her hand on my crotch, softly caressing the bulge she had caused. My own hand was full of her left breast, over her blouse. The stewardess didn't even bat an eye. I suppose it wasn't the first time she had seen similar activities.

"We're about to land," she smiled, her gaze flicking across the two of us. "Could you please return your seats to their upright position, and put the armrest back down?"

"Of course," Becca nodded, and quite openly gave my crotch a parting pat. She continued to explain, "we just got married, and I can't keep my hands off him."

"I think he feels the same way about you," the blonde giggled, winking at me. My hand hadn't relinquished it's grip on Becca's breast, but did as she sat up. "Congratulations to both of you!" she smiled, then whispered something I didn't hear into Becca's ear. They both laughed

"Oh yes, that's for sure," Becca smiled brightly, "and thank you."

I let my curiosity go unsatisfied for as long as I could. We landed, taxied, and parked, while I stewed. As we were walking along the jetway, heading into the terminal, I had to ask.

"What did she say?" I begged. Becca looked around, and pulled me off to the side as we entered to terminal. She leaned back against the wall, and put her arms around my neck.

"She said I should have fun, and that you looked like you could show a girl a good time," Becca smiled, and pulled me in for a scorching kiss that lasted for quite a while. "She was right. I can't wait until we get home. Do you think we can find some place here for a quick one?"

"Somehow, I doubt it," I replied, looking at the hundreds of people milling about around us, and that was just this gate. "Let's go get our luggage, and get home as fast as we can." Becca bit her lip and nodded.

"God, I am so horny," she hissed, taking my hand as we weaved through the crowd on the way to the baggage claim. "I'm dripping, honey, and as you may recall, my panties are in my purse. The breeze on my wet lips is making it worse."

And, that picture is making it harder for me to walk, baby, I thought. I'd love nothing more than to bury my face in your sodden gash for a few minutes, then fuck the shit out of you. If I thought we'd get away unarrested, I would do it right here, with an audience.

We waited for our luggage, with her burrowing into my chest. It was cute. She was a middle aged woman, acting like a horny teenager...and she was all mine, with the possible exception of time spent sharing her with playmates of our mutual consent. I would never forget the image of her writhing under the attentions of both Milan and Vanessa, just a day or so ago.

At last, our bags appeared, and I extricated myself from my wife's embrace to retrieve them. Becca bolted to the restroom, and I had everything ready to go when she returned.

"I needed a wipe," she giggled. "It was running down my leg. I put my undies back on, so I won't make a puddle while we're in the taxi."

I smiled, and pushed our cart full of luggage outside. We actually had one more bag coming home than we did going out, as Milan had given Becca several dresses, most of which I hadn't seen yet. I was looking forward to a fashion show at some point in the future.

The first taxi in line rolled up, and we tossed our bags inside, then took our seats for the twenty minute ride home. The driver was the loquacious type, chatting away, and Becca was happy to join in, telling him about our trip, and how happy we were to be home. She gave him the sanitized version of things, of course, leaving out all the sexual adventures, but I got the feeling she would have been happy to let him know the whole story. 'Horny' can be as judgement impairing as alcohol at times.

As the taxi disappeared down the street, I unlocked 'our' front door, and dragged the bags inside. Becca was rubbing off on me, so I pulled the luggage directly into the bedroom, and opened the windows. She always likes to open up everything when she gets home, to air the place out, and I did the same, sliding the glass doors open in the dining room. I suddenly realized that I didn't see, or hear, my wife.

"Becca?" I called, beginning my search. I walked past the front hall, and the door was still open.

My darling was standing on the front step, waiting quietly her hands behind her back. She was smiling, and rocking up and down on her toes. She didn't say a word.

"Oh yeah!" I grimaced, as the light bulb finally went off. "Sorry, honey. I'm new at this married thing."

"No apology necessary," she giggled, lifting her arm, and allowing me to scoop her up into my arms for the traditional threshold carry. "I think you know where I'd like to go."

"Right. The kitchen..." I laughed, kicking the door closed. She flicked the deadbolt on.

"I had somewhere with softer horizontal surfaces in mind," she smiled, and kissed me.

I carried her down the hall, and eased us through the bedroom door, placing her on the bed gently. She pulled me down on top of her.

I was pretty sure that I was the luckiest man alive. What would have happened of I hadn't answered that phone call? What if I had chickened out, and not asked her to meet me? What if, indeed.

I couldn't see a way that this tall, luscious, busty creature would have wound up here, in bed with me, even as a casual, onetime guest. Being here, and wearing a glittering diamond on the ring finger of her left hand, would seem impossible. The events of recent days in Las Vegas would have remained firmly in the realm of fantasy.

I looked down into her deep, brown eyes, and brushed a few strands of her flaming red hair away from her face. She licked her lips and smiled.

"So, Mrs. Rebecca Wellington-Smith," I breathed, "wife of yours truly, Robert Smith...are you happy?"

"Mmmmm. Deliriously," she nodded, her eyes reflecting a glint of arousal. "There's only one thing that could make me any happier. Perhaps you could make love to me? If it wouldn't be too much trouble?"

"Yes Ma'am," I smiled. Oh, the things I have to do.

I undressed her slowly, unwrapping her like a treasured gift, which is how I felt about her.

Becca laid back, patiently waiting, her arm behind her head, while I unbuttoned her blouse.

One.

Button.

At.

A.

Time.

With the last fastener undone, I opened the black silk fabric wide, laying her bare to the waist, except, of course, for her bra. Black as well, it cradled her deliciously large breasts, holding them up, and forming the cleavage that I was currently kissing softly. A hint of areola peeked over the lacy edges of the cups, and a firm bump indicated the location of her stiff nipples. I could never get enough of her breasts, and she knew it, taking every opportunity to entice me with them.

This bra fastened in the back, and she was lying on the catch, so I just gripped the shoulder straps, one at a time, in my teeth, and tugged them off. Like a playful puppy, I yanked each strap down, until her bra was loose around her waist, and those magnificent tits were available for worship. She batted her eyelashes at me, and sighed, rolling her shoulders slightly. Her boobs responded, wobbling with fluid grace across her chest. Her eyes met mine, silently asking me to continue.

Her nipples were standing tall, begging to be tasted. I knew what she wanted, and took her left nipple into my mouth gently, suckling happily. She moaned, and her free hand found the back of my head. She stroked my hair.

"Oh, you do know what I like, don't you baby?" she breathed. I nipped the stiff bud with my teeth...one of her favourite triggers... and she moaned again. "Mmmmm, yes...that's my honey. Don't stop."

I continued to nibble at her ample breasts, while one hand slid down her belly. Her legs, so far, crossed at the ankles in a relaxed fashion, opened slowly, as my hand inched down her firm thigh. When I reached the hem of her snug skirt, it ducked under the fabric, and headed back up her smooth skin, caressing her inner thigh softly. Becca used her free hand to tug the zipper on her hip down, loosening the taut garment.

My fingertips touched her panties, and she hissed, a quivering, excited breath. While I switched nipples above, my fingers gently traced the indentation between her labial folds. Her panties were soaked, and heat radiated out, indicating her extreme arousal.

"Oh, baby, my clit is on fire!" she groaned. "I've been horny since we boarded the plane. Please, let me cum. I'm going out of my mind."

I released her nipple from my lips and smiled, nodding slightly. She grinned, and hurriedly wiggled out of the skirt while I moved down her body, so that only her soggy panties stood between my tongue and her pussy when I took my position. She peered down at me, twisting her nipples anxiously, awaiting the touch of my mouth on her snatch. I pressed the flat of my tongue against the tiny, silky barrier, tasting her familiar nectar. A moan from above, as her head lolled back.

I teased around the edges of her panties, tracing the elastic where it pressed into her smooth lips. She had a bit of a camel toe wedgie, which looked a little uncomfortable, so I hooked my finger in the waistband of her underwear, and eased them down. Becca helped me, arching her back to lift her ass off the mattress. Her clit, nearly as big as the tip of my little finger, peeked out from between her thick, slippery folds.

Becca desperately freed one leg from the restriction of her panties, and spread wide, grabbing the back of my head. She urged me on.

"Shit, honey...please, suck my clit! I can't take much more!"

As much as I loved the full, round curves of her huge breasts, I loved her thick, dangling lips nearly as much. She had a pussy made for grazing, chock full of sweet honey just waiting for my tongue to dip into it. She was dripping wet, and I was hungry for dessert.

I licked her from bottom to top, dipping deep between her lips, opening the shiny petals of her flower wide. She gasped as I wiggled the tip of my tongue as deep as I could, then slid up to twirl around her clit. I flicked it a few times, and she grabbed my hair, pulling my face tight to her crotch.

"Please... Oh, please..." she breathed.

All right, my darling...you've suffered enough.

Becca's clit was about as big, and nearly as prominent, as her nipples, so a similar strategy was obvious. I latched on, suckling gently.

"Oh my god...yes, baby... that's it... oh yes..." she howled. The howl became a shriek, when I gave it a little nip. "OoooooOOOOOOOOOOOOoh my goddddddddddddd! YES! YES! YESSSS!"

She wanted to cum, and she did. Boy, did she ever. I'd like to take credit for the screaming, bucking, twisting, thrashing orgasm she was experiencing, but truthfully, I didn't really do much. She had been winding herself up all day long, and all I had to do was flip the switch to set her off. More proof that the mind is the Queen of all erogenous zones.

I held on tight, slurping away at the sluicing wellspring that her cunt had become, while she screeched through her orgasm. Now that she had started, it seemed that every little touch of my tongue or lips only added to the ecstasy, and she came over and over, and over...and over. Her voice began to crack as each wave hit her, until she couldn't take any more pleasure. Her hands, once used to keep my lips on her clit, now frantically pushed me away.

"Oh god, oh god, please stop!" she gasped. "I can't breathe!"

Well, it wouldn't do to be widowed this soon after trying to knot. People would get the wrong impression. I backed off, and she melted onto the mattress, panting and wheezing ragged, desperate breaths. I crawled up beside her, watching her breasts heave and shudder as she caught her breath. It was an amazing, and highly erotic sight. My dick was like stone. I hoped I'd get to use it.

"Holy fuck, honey," she smiled, having recuperated enough to speak. "That was intense. Give me a minute, will you? Why don't I suck your cock while I recover?"

That was a very tempting offer. My wife gave great blowjobs, and I really, really liked the feel of her lips on my shaft. Okay, you talked me into it.

I kicked my pants off, and she reefed my underwear down my legs, freeing my stiff cock. She moaned as she took it into her mouth, and began to suck it softly.

You've heard of music on hold? I think I was experiencing the sexual equivalent, getting a very loving blowjob while waiting until I could fuck her. Except, of course, that music on hold sucks...in a bad way...and Becca sucks very, very well. Your call is very important to us...thank you for holding, how may I fuck you?

My gorgeous redhead was now ready for action, and straddled my hips, dropping her wet gash onto my dick with one swift motion.

"Oh, that's better. Nice cock, baby," she smiled, undulating her hips. "Very nice cock." She leaned forward, and dangled her melons in my face. She didn't need to ask. I grabbed a handful of each, and fondled her firmly, as I kissed and licked her nipples. Like I said, she knew what I liked about her body, and wasn't shy. Like Pavlov's dog, I became a slobbering, sucking fool when she put those beautiful tits in my face.

She moaned as she rode my dick energetically, and I gnawed on her nipples, bringing them to full erection. Her pussy was so warm, and wet, it was a heavenly embrace that I enjoyed without reservation.

I released her breasts, and watched, entranced, as they jiggled... swayed... bounced... swung... slapped... doing a mesmerizing dance on her chest. It would probably take years of therapy to determine why I found her breasts so incredibly alluring, but in the end, it was pretty simple : I loved big tits in general, and hers in particular. The reason why really didn't matter. The bell was ringing, so I salivated, and grabbed her boobs again, slurping at her nipples happily.

"Mmmmm, that's my good boy," Becca moaned. "You suck Mommy's nipples so good! Keep going honey, while I fuck your big, hard cock with my wet pussy. Do you like my wet, juicy cunt on your big cock?"

Well, if there was any doubt remaining about my wife's excitement level, she put it to rest. Becca only became chatty like this when she was steaming hot, and only played the 'Mommy' card when she was feeling particularly naughty.

As for my part in the conversation, well...all I could do is moan and nod the affirmative. My mouth was full of her left nipple at the time, and she was holding her breast with one hand, feeding it to me, milking its fullness, as though I might receive a mouthful of sweet milk from her beautiful globes. Oh, how I'd love that.

"Mmmmm, keep sucking, baby...Mommy's going to cum, soon! Oh yes," she groaned, "Oh yeah, suck me honey...oh yeah, Mommy's cumming! Mommy's cumming! MOMMY'S CUMMMMMMMING!"

She held my face tight against her chest. I could feel her cunt clutching tight, squeezing my shaft in a rhythmic, rippling fashion, as she ground herself down against the base of my dick, punishing her clit.

As her orgasm ebbed, she released my head, and sat up, breathing heavily. Her eyes had a dreamy, unfocused look.

"Ooooo, yeah...Mommy came," she whispered. "Mommy came big! Does Daddy want to cum?" I nodded. "I thought you might."

Becca lifted off, and spun around, taking the 'playful puppy' position, with her ass high in the air, and her shoulders and chest down on the bed. She wagged her tail.

I paused behind her, and bent to lick her gaping pussy once more. I gave each thick, dangling lip a suck, and fluttered my tongue across her clit a few times. Finally, I slipped three fingers into her, and rubbed hard across her g-spot.

Becca screamed, and her fists balled up, grabbing the covers for support.

"FuuuuuuUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKK!" she wailed.

I finger fucked her hard, for several seconds, then pulled my fingers out, and slammed my hard cock back into her. I slapped her ass, then grabbed her hips, and began to pound her pussy furiously. I gave her full length strokes, crashing into her firm ass each time, the sharp report of our bodies echoing throughout the silent house. Well...silent, other than my grunts and Becca's screams.

I leaned forward, and growled at her.

"I'm gonna cum all over your face and tits... Mommy."

My sweet MILF squealed with glee, and nodded.

"Oh yes, you young stud! I want it! Fucking cum on my face!"

I was ready, and yanked my cock out. Becca deftly rolled on her hip, turned, and held her large boobs out as a target. She smiled, and extended her tongue as well. If she wanted to, she could have a future in porn.

I flogged my dick, jerking madly, staring into Becca's eyes. I felt the first shot race up the length of my shaft, and grunted.

Cum leapt from my cock, splashing across her tongue and lips. Surge after surge followed, painting her cheeks, and dripping from her chin. A stream ran down her neck, and globs adorned the upper curves of her full melons. I shook the last of it into her cleavage, and she grabbed my cock, sucking it deep into her mouth. I put my hands on her shoulders, to keep my balance, while she vacuumed me clean. When she released me, I sat back, exhausted.

I watched as my wife scooped up my cum, licking her fingers and moaning, apparently finding my discharge delicious. She spent a couple of minutes cleaning herself, then laid back.

We cuddled together, catching our collective breath, in relative silence. Becca finally spoke.

"Honey...I hope I can be a good wife for you," she said quietly.

I didn't need to ask for the source of that feeling. Some emotional baggage is harder to dump than others. No matter how often you try to lose it, it just keeps on getting returned to you, like trying to throw away a garbage can. This particular carry-on bag had her ex-husband's name on it.