Sometimes I think my superpower consists simply in being in the right place at the right time, and I'm just a dirty-minded SOB who knows how to take advantage of circumstances. At other times I know for certain it's real but I don't understand what it's trying to tell me. Take for example the other day.
I'd parked my car on a residential street a couple of blocks from a suburban downtown where I was doing some business. It was a trendy town with impossible parking, but I found myself passing up spots because my superpower told me to keep looking. It finally let me park several blocks away and I has to hike to my meeting.
I was just walking back to my car afterwards when I heard shouting. A man and a woman were yelling at each other. I got to my car and was unlocking it when I heard a scream come from behind the high hedges that bordered the house I'd parked in front of. Of course I had to investigate. The scream was a woman's. My superpower twitched. I thought perhaps it was summoning me to come to her aid. I peeked around the hedges.
Within the small front yard was a gray shingled house with a large picture window. I could see through the picture window a man and a woman arguing. I watched, wanting to make sure no violence occurred. I'm not a superhero but basically I'm a nice guy. The woman was small and what they call zaftigβ not my typeβ but she had a sweet face. Although I couldn't make out all the words, it seemed she was being berated by the man, presumably her husband, in the vilest way. He was an average-looking guy, maybe balding prematurely, maybe fit for his age. He accused her of being unfaithful with someone whose name I didn't catch, but he raised his voice enough to detail for the neighborhood all sorts of nasty things with other men he mentioned. She didn't deny the accusations, instead insulting his sexual skills. He repeated and embellished his statements. Both of them were hot tempered types. I wondered if I should call 911. I was afraid they would start a fistfight.
Instead, the woman walked angrily away. A second later the front door opened.
"Okay, big man," came from the house, "If you believe I'm fucking every guy on the block and all your so-called friends, then I might as well!" She stepped out the door and saw me standing in the walkway.
"Hey, Honey!" she called back. "Here's my date now!"
She walked right up and kissed me. Maybe she liked my suit. She turned to make sure hubby was watching, then kissed me again. Hubby cursed her through the window for a slut.
"If that's what you think I am!" She fondled my crotch. My balls, sure enough, were twitching. "Oh, he's hot for me, Honey! Want to watch me fuck him in the front yard?"
Hubby went crazy. I thought he might break the window glass, he was pounding his fists against it so hard. She cackled. But then, when he ran out of view, she started running, faster than I would have thought, around the house. He raced out the front door and down the steps.
He paused to shake his fist at me. "You stay away from my damned woman!" he yelled at me, then went after her around the house.
All was quiet for a minute or two. I thought they must have settled down and made up, or perhaps he'd caught her and strangled her. In any case, it seemed a good time to leave.
But then she reappeared at the front door. There was a gleam in her eye. "Hey, come here," she said in a low voice. I went to her. My thoughts were still about preventing a domestic disturbance, but my balls were twitching like crazy. She took my hand and led me inside. It was a typical suburban house, at least from the entry way. Family pictures on the walls. Knickknacks, flowered wallpaper. She closed and locked the door.
"Come on. He's locked out."
She led me to the living room and resumed kissing me and rubbing my crotch. She was a pretty good kisser, with big soft lips and cheeks like a baby's bottom. I wondered where this little scene was leading. She stopped just as I was getting hard. She looked around. In fact, she left me standing in the middle of the living room while she peeked out of windows. Then hubby reappeared in the front yard.
"Hah hah, little man, look what I brought home!" she shouted at him, and resumed kissing and fondling me. Hubby tried the front door, kicked it, then returned to the show she was putting on. When I was fully hard she unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock.
"Whoa, look what I found! Hey, little man, do you see this? Now this is a cock, a real one, not that spaghetti noodle you have." She wiggled it at him, and dragged me by it over to the window. He continued cursing her, calling her slut, whore, and worse.
"A slut? A whore? Is that what you think? Is that why you came back from work in the middle of the day, to see me selling myself? Okay, you caught me." She turned to me. She fluffed her big hair and shook her bigger tits. "Hi, handsome, wanna have some fun?"
"Sure." I'd begun to understand the scene. And why my superpower had brought me here. Yay superpower.
"It'll cost ya."
"That's okay. You don't look expensive."
She cackled again. "See anything you like? Just name it, I do it."
She wiggled her ample ass, but it didn't do anything for me. Those lips, however, were intriguing. I fished a ten from my pocket. I never pay for sex (never have to), but this seemed to be an exception. "Give me some head."
"Hey, Sweetie Pie, look what he gave me!" She waved the bill in front of him. "And you know what he wants?" She sank to her knees in front of me. She folded the bill and put it between her breasts, then pulled my cock to her mouth. But she didn't start doing me. Of course not. She turned to the window. Hubby was right there, standing in the flower bed, his eyes on fire, his hands pressed against the glass, which was the only thing preventing him from punching me. Or her. "He wants what you never get! And I'm going to give it to him. The customer is always right, isn't that what you say at the store? And his dick is so nice! I'm really going to enjoy this. Mm." She opened her mouth to take me in, then stopped. "What's that, dear? I'm a cheap whore? You're right, I am." She slid the tenner from her cleavage. "Honey Pie, do you have change?"
I won't bother relating his answer. She got up, patting my rod. "You just wait right there, sir. I'll be right back. Let's see." She searched the living room while I stood with my cock sticking out of my pants, right in front of her husband. I expected him to start on me but, no, he didn't even see me. He had eyes only for his chubby spouse as she crossed the room.
She was back in a minute holding a man's wallet. "Lookie, dear, see what I found." Cries of thief, etc., penetrated the glass. She knelt down, took a five from the wallet, and stuffed it in my pants. "There. That's fair, isn't it?"
"Depends on how good a cocksucker you are."
"Baby Pie, he wants to know if I'm a good cocksucker! Could you tell him? No, I guess you couldn't. But I can tell you," she said to me as she ran her hand up and down on my meat, "When I'm good, I'm very good, but when I'm badβ" she glanced to the window to make sure hubby was paying attention, then slowly, with her eyes bouncing between me and our audience, pulled my cock into her wide open mouth.
Oh those lips! I'd stayed away from overweight women, had turned down several who'd offered various enjoyments. But one slide between this woman's made me realize I'd been too harsh in my judgment. If that sweet face was a big sexual dessert, an erotic puff pastry, then those lips were pure feminine whipped cream. And her tongue! It was long, spacious enough to wrap most of the way around my cockhead; and she stuck it way out to slurp my cock, making damn sure Sweetie Pie in the shrubbery saw her paint every square centimeter of my pole with her spit.
Speaking of hubby, he'd fallen to his knees in the topsoil along with his cuckolding wife, trousers bulging, mouth agape and, thankfully, no longer spouting obscenities. For a few blessed minutes the only sounds were the wet smacks of her oral service. If she went after food the way she went for my tube steak, I understood how she got to her present physical state. As for hubby, he was close enough to the action that he could have counted how many of his wife's taste buds touched my genitals. Maybe she'd been telling the truth when she'd proclaimed that she never gave him head.
"Ooh, it tastes so good, honey!" She turned to face him as she chewed up and down on my cock, grinning as she showed him how much she relished her snack, pushing inches of me into her roomy cheeks and all around her capacious mouth. She took me deep finally, and squeegeed me of her saliva. "I can't take money for sucking this dick. It's too delicious." She got out another five and pushed that bill in my pocket. "In fact, it's worth paying for." She got out a twenty now from hubby's wallet and showed it to him. That got him started with the verbal assaults again. I guess money played an important part in their relationship. She stuffed that in my waistband.
Having found how to stimulate her husband, she settled down for some serious cocksucking. She was pretty good. Nice mouth for fellatio and a great tongue, endless in its lapping and tickling. Maybe she didn't do her husband, but mine was not the first male organ that tongue had tasted. I would have had a hard time holding off, except for the rhythm-breaking soliloquy she pronounced between sucks:
"So delicious!"