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The Amorous Adventures of a Glamour-Slut Housewife

by Richard (Dick) Wright


Chapter 1: Barbara’s Barber
"Here we go again," thought Rich, as he loaded the trunk of their Mazda 626 with the paraphernalia of his glamour-slut bride, "Another exciting weekend at the sexiest nudist camp in the East." It seemed just a little ridiculous packing so much for a weekend in which there would be little need for clothes! But Barbara was very fashion-conscious and Rich loved her so, especially when she dressed the slut for all to enjoy.

They had been engaged in a hedonistic lifestyle for a couple of years now and there was quite obviously, no looking back. In fact, they both regretted all those monogamous years when, even though she was just as beautiful as she is now, they had both grown tired of each other and almost found themselves in divorce court, simply out of boredom. That was all behind them now. Rich and Barbara were embarked on a sensual journey into a "brave, new world" of consensual adultery with others who, like themselves, were horny for unrestricted, recreational sex.

Of course, Barbara had always been into adultery. Rich knew it, but now, she knew he knew it and much to her amazement, she had his loving approval. Rich valued her truthful commitment to their relationship over any imagined exclusive right to her sex organs. Her whole outlook on him and their marriage had done a complete, 180 degree reversal. They were once again in love with each other and were delighted to see to it that all of their secret hedonistic fantasies were mutually fulfilled. There’s no better place to practice this avocation than the Sunshine Lodge, deep in the heart of the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania.

Barbara alighted from the side door of their house wearing her sex-goddess sunglasses and toting her beach bag. She turned and checked the lock on the door. Smiling at Rich as he dropped the lid on their packed trunk, she passed around behind him on her way to her side of the car and playfully goosed him. Rich turned around and caught her arm. Pulling her towards him, he cradled her precious buttocks in his hands and planted an ardent kiss on her luscious peach-colored lips.

"That ought to keep the neighbors clucking." Rich remarked, as he gently held her warm, curvaceous body close to him and caressed her inner thigh with his knee. The neighbors in their little sub-division had surely noted all the traffic into and out of their house over the past few years, at all times of the day and night, often single men and sometimes groups of them, and even when Rich wasn’t there!

"Oh that’s all right," she demurred, "They would probably have to make up their snoopy little fantasies about us, anyway, wouldn’t they?"

She was so beautiful, snuggled there in Rich’s arms, wearing a one-piece diaper-like wrap loosely, over the skimpiest of bikini bottoms. Over her undersized bra top she wore an open white, short-sleeved shirt. She lifted one white-sneakered foot behind her as she returned his kiss. Rich knew Barbara was the ardent object of the restrained lust of every man in their development. They coveted him as they idled past their house to catch a better view of her sunbathing in the yard or tending the garden in her minuscule thong bikini with the postage stamp-sized bra cups. Her long, golden hair hung down the middle of her back in a bouncy pony-tail that emanated from the posterior opening of her jaunty baseball cap. Rich would choose her to play on his team any day.

"Let’s get a move on," Rich suggested, "the whole weekend awaits." They both knew what eroticism that statement bespoke and they eagerly clambered into the bucket seats and fastened their safety belts. Rich brought the engine to life.

They hadn’t been on the road long when they pulled onto the freeway and, as if on cue, Barbara unbuckled her seat belt, laid her tender hand on Rich’s bare thigh and began gently rubbing him closer and closer to where she knew she could get the customary response. Her husband gently steadied the steering wheel with his left hand and began a similar, loving procedure between her squirming legs.

Barbara was fervently coaxing Rich’s manhood to life through his swimming trunks as he, single-handedly, reached under her open shirt and unhinged her bikini top. Her perfectly shaped breasts, enjoying the full range of freedom that nature intended, jiggled and swayed as she worked her magic hand. She leaned forward closer to him and Rich raised his posterior off the seat as she slipped his shorts down to his knees. He had to move his feet from their close proximity to the pedals to allow this maneuver, but the cruise control feature assured the uninterrupted progress of their vehicle. Rich slid his pants down to his ankles and extracted his right foot. He was completely bottomless now as they cruised down the public highway at 65 mph. Rich’s engorged penis sprang to life under his spouse’s expert manipulation.

"I sure hope that Janet and Al will be there." Barb asserted, as she grasped his stiffening cock in her tender grip and poured over its hearty erection with her seductive mouth and lips. "She told me that, if they could get the baby-sitter early enough, they would like to be sunning at pool-side by 10:00 AM." Rich fantasized about Janet’s prodigious rack, as they steadily racked up the miles twixt thither and yon and Barb tenderly reapplied her expert mouth to his ever-growing hard-on.

Truckers, purposefully speeding past us on the left, blasted their road horns to signal their approval of the delightful "seat cover" that Barbara, having removed her shirt, presented for their view while her head dipped and bobbed at her husband’s crotch. She was now sucking his cock in earnest and he in turn, having unfastened her wrap-around and untied her thong, tenderly massaged her naked pussy. The crevice of her cunt yielded to his forceful rubbing, which made Barbara gurgle with delight as she flicked her tongue over the tip of Rich’s throbbing ornament.

Her long, golden pony tail, hanging down around her cheek, tickled his thighs and teased his scrotum with each pass down to the roots of his pubic hairs. She was deep-throating all 8½ inches of her spouse’s stiff, swollen love-toy and Rich could sense her encircling tonsils gliding across the contours of his glans, feeling ever so much like a tight, warm vagina, slipping further and further down on him with each descent. It must have been too much, even for a seasoned fellationist like Barbara, for she suddenly jerked her head up. Gagging momentarily, then spitting into her hand, she protested, "You really ought to shave down there, honey. Your pubic hair gets caught in my throat."

She continued her loving hand-job, but quite understandably, refrained from any further mouth-to-prick contact. Barb was right, of course. Didn’t she allow her husband to crop her pubic region at least twice a week? The image of her ritualistic entrance into their living room of an evening, after dinner and dishes were done, with a disposable razor, a clean, wet wash cloth and a cup of water in her hands, brought a smile to Rich’s face. Clad seductively in a lacy, white bustier with underwired, nipple-revealing demi-bra cups and dangling garter straps, which framed her naked twat and attached to the tops of her sheer white textured stockings, Barbara was a sight to bring a leering smile to any man’s face. She always cultivated the deepest suntan, which set off her white, slut-bride outfit with artistic contrast.

She would fix his eyes with her sultry gaze, no doubt savoring the powerful effect her appearance made and without a word, bent over the coffee table, displaying her succulent, cuddle-jugs as she deposited her gear in front of him. Then, casually fluffing up one of the oversized, sheepskin lounging pillows, which came in so handy when someone needed her ass propped up to facilitate maximum penetration during one of their frequent orgies or private love-making sessions, she would then settle back beside him and drape one shapely, bestockinged leg over the back of the couch, behind him. Her other leg, enhanced to its fully toned curvature by a white, patted leather, high-heeled shoe, would then spread invitingly out before her horny mate. With her knee in the air, Barbara would let it fall outward, thrusting her naked, and still quite closely shaved pudendum forward as she adjusted the pillow under her shapely bottom.

Yes, the image was endearing and guaranteed to get a rise out of her hubby, even if she weren’t still casually stroking his stiff rod with practiced precision. Rich’s mind retraced the routine. First, he would take the razor and crop a millimeter off the ends of the tufted, heart-shaped patch of golden hairs, just above her slit opening. Then, dipping his hand into the cup of water, he would massage the wetness into her finely stubbled, but still smooth labia.

What a piece of work the woman’s body is. Down at the center of his universe, the line and curvature of Barbara’s external genital anatomy could easily have served as the original mold for the streamlined fenders of some sleek, exotic sports car. Between these twin, fleshy but gentle protrusions, lay a gash of exquisite velveteen mystery. Completely denuded of hair, there was no mistaking the form and function of that organ of sin. Not only do those coarse, curly vestiges of simian ancestry blur the details of the icon of sensuality, but they needlessly interfere with the smooth execution of full-contact coitus.

Framed by the whiteness that her tiniest of bikinis shielded from the sun, lay the deep, dark, purplish-pink treasure cove of her vaginal love hole. Her inner, labia minora were inordinately large and always hung down out of her snatch. It was as if the miles and miles of constant piston stroking, from every make and model of manhood that Barbara had invited into her slippery chamber, especially over the past few years, had effectively stretched these supple, enveloping flaps to their present, seemingly distorted dimensions.

Now, with her legs spread wide, in this inviting pose, these twin flaps lay apart like the petals of a rare flower. Their periphery was a darker, brownish hue than the bright pink opening at the center. Adorned with tiny scalloped ridges that lined her blossoming fullness at the gateway to ecstasy, just below Barbara’s half-hooded clitoris, they continued along as gently flared, but ever-narrowing fluted ribbons sweeping almost to her anal orifice at the bottom. Here, they lovingly rejoined themselves, like the pouring spout of a creamer.

An apt image, Rich mused, as literally gallons of hot creamy white semen had indeed dribbled, cubic centimeter by cubic centimeter, inexorably out of that orifice over the years. Only a small fraction of which, had been his contribution. Of course, like porn studs, some men like to extract at the moment of climax and direct their ejaculations at outer, more visible regions. Still others chose the safe-sex route and contained their emissions in little plastic balloon sacs. Rich was right, though, about the gallons, for his Barbara was a prodigious fucker and with a fervor just shy of nymphomania, constantly sought out new partners.

And then, there was the "little man in the boat". Barbara’s sleepy-eyed, mini-penis with its shiny, pink dome, protruding like some tiny observatory out of the bow of his canoe. Although her loving husband’s task was to deftly remove the stubble of emerging pubic hairs from the outer and inner regions surrounding this treasure box, Rich could never keep his caressing thumb or rough-textured tongue away from this smooth little protrusion for long. He loved to probe the tip of his tongue up under its hood and lick the entire circumference of her smooth little pebble.

Nonetheless, he had a job to do. With the fingers of his left hand spreading one delicate flap across the light, pink slit that marked the entrance to her tunnel of love, Rich carefully swiped the razor down both sides of the gully that formed there, first one way and then the other. He tested his work deliberately and often, drawing his fingers lovingly over the newly mown flesh, searching out and tending to any remaining stubble.

Then, Rich turned his attention to the other side, and after that, the outer mounds, both ways, all the way down to her pert little butt-hole, where there were always a couple of persistent straggling strands. Reversing direction, he resolutely passed the blade back up, all the way to her little garden-nest, which adorned the promontory heights of her mons veneris. These expanses required extra stropping to assure absolute smoothness all the way out to her upper thighs and inwards over the rounded contours and into the furrows again.

Finally, it was time to put his artistic talents to work, shaping the valentine design of Barbara’s pubic nest. Shaving inwards first , all around and then outwards, Barbara’s barber had finally completed his labor. Placing the razor back into its cup, and applying the wash cloth to the whole area, Rich would then manually inspect his handiwork. Squeezing the fleshy convolutions together, he could make Barbara’s enlarged labia pucker up and out for his oral attention, which he would always resume in earnest.

This, of course invariably led to some deep fucking, which was all part of "the service". For dessert, the lady was always appreciative of a creamy cum-bath, which the donor would rub, like a soothing hot, lanolin skin conditioner into the baby-bottom smoothness of her nakedness.

Rich took his eyes off the road just in time to see yet another load of globular, white spunk spilling out of the slot at the tip of his dick and cascade around the dainty hand of his masturbatress. Talk about gallons! They say the average male ejaculation consists of a mere ten cc’s. At that rate, with a thousand cc’s per liter, which is about a quart, and at four quarts to the gallon, that’s more than four thousand cc’s divided by ten ccs per load. That’s in excess of four hundred ejaculations, just to make a gallon. Why, sexy as his lifestyle was, Rich wondered if he could indeed produce that much cum in a whole year! But Barbara, on the other hand was certainly capable of eliciting it.

Her husband had seen her take on fifteen guys in one night, and then there were her daytime trysts, while he was at work. Of course, she would always make time for Rich, nearly every day, when he wasn’t away on business. And that was far too often, Rich resolved. He made a mental note to speak to his supervisor about that. "You see, boss," he imagined myself imploring, "I’ve barely delivered a quart to my wife’s creamery so far this year, and if I don’t start producing more for her, someone else will surpass me as her chief depositor!"

Rich chuckled to himself. His boss would have to be the last person on earth to discover the secret of their chosen lifestyle. A conservative company like the one Rich worked for, would not appreciate any such associations by one of their employees.

Barb broke in on his silly musings. "Well, how about it," she asked, "When are you going to shave your pubic hair? I’ll do it for you, honey, if you want me to. I’ve got a razor in my make-up bag right in the trunk. Why don’t you pull over and get it out?"

"Better not do it while I’m driving," Rich protested, "jerking me off is one thing, but razors are sharp, and I’ve seen the way you nick your legs when you shave them."

"I’ll tell you what," Rich consented, "I’ll pull into the next rest area. It’s early in the morning yet, and there probably won’t be many cars there. We can use the first parking spot, farthest away from the rest rooms and you can shave me right here in the car."

"Okay," Barbara giggled girlishly, "I’ll be real careful. I’ve got to keep you in good working order, don’t I? What would the girls at the Lodge think if you offered them a bloodied and bandaged din-a-ling to play with?"

"Oh, they’d probably tar and feather you or run you out of the park on a rail if you ruined me for them." joked Rich, trying to imagine a bevy of swinging sluts who actually valued his services so much that they could be driven to such barbarity. "Besides, I should hope that the greatest loss would be yours, wouldn’t it?"

"Of course it would, honey." Barbara assured him, "You’re my one true love, you know you are. What would I do without you? Where could I ever find a better lover who would still allow me, and even encourage me to fuck my brains out with as many guys as I want? Nowhere, that’s where. I want you more than I ever wanted anyone in my whole life"

"Well, anyway, I should probably be erect, if you’re to do a good job down there," Rich insisted, "and since I just came, I need a little time to rebuild my reserves. Just about enough time to reach the next rest area."

Rich carefully returned his swimming trunks to their normal attitude but his unselfconscious slut-bride remained naked and he resumed stroking Barbara’s pussy. They passed the next twenty minutes or so distracting the other motorists and making small talk about who she’d been fucking lately.

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