Rites of Spring

Author's Note:

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached, as long as no charge is made for it and it isn't changed in any way. If it is archived or displayed, it is done so with the understanding that the author will have unrestricted access to the archive or posting. Additional stories can be found at www.literotica.com. Just go to the Stories section, select Indexed By Author, and look for Bob Peale. While you're at it, check out some of the other great stories posted by other authors!

Please address all feedback, inquiries, marriage proposals, etc. to the author at mischief1@bigfoot.com.

Disclaimer:

This story is a work fiction. None of the characters or events herein are based on real people, either living or dead. It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or if reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, do not read any further! By reading further, you certify that you have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. You also certify that you are NOT a city, county, state, or federal law enforcement officer, official of the United States Postal Service, acting in the capacity of a representative of a telecommunications firm, and that, to your knowledge, this material does not offend the standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local, state, or federal law.

No animals were harmed in the manufacture of this product.

*******

"Are you on their bed?" Karen asked playfully.

"No, I couldn't see you well enough," he answered honestly. "I ended up pulling a chair up to the window and grabbing Dad's binoculars. Now it's like I'm there with you."

"Really?" Karen was intrigued. "How many fingers am I holding?" she asked, sliding two into her rapidly dampening pussy.

"Two," came the quiet response. She was also aware of the sound of flesh rubbing against flesh coming through the line.

"Michael," Karen chided. "Are you beating off?"

"Oh God, I can't help it Mrs. Thompson. I can see the pink inside you!" he moaned.

"I'll make a deal with you; you can cum once if you promise to let me hear everything." She could almost hear him nod enthusiastically. "I'll even help out."

Picking up the flesh colored vibrator and turning it on, Karen began tracing slow, deliberate spirals on her breasts, starting at the edge of her areola and corkscrewing toward the pouting nipple.

"Can you see alright Michael?" she called. The only answer she got was an increased sound of him jerking.

Outside, she could see Charles approaching the back corner of the yard. In about five minutes, he would be directly across from where she lay sprawled out, and just under where Michael sat in his parents' bedroom. Nipples throbbing pleasingly, Karen put the surrogate cock aside and picked up the smallest egg shaped vibrator. She licked and sucked on it to get it wet, then switched it on and slid it into her ass until only the cord dangled free. She collapsed on the lounge, legs spread wide and the heels of her feet pressed against her ass cheeks. She was new to anal play, having only convinced Charles to give it a try two weeks ago. She still required a slight adjustment period after anything was inserted in her ass, but Michael's moans encouraged her to move faster than she normally would have. She was close to cumming, and with any luck would do so in full view of both Michael AND Charles. She picked up the largest egg shaped vibrator, switched it on, and rammed it between her, not bothering to lubricate it, enjoying the roughness of the act. She tugged on her nipples as the vibrators buzzed deep inside her, thrashing about as she started to cum. On the other end of the phone Michael shouted, his own orgasm starting, and Karen imagined Charles looking up and into their bedroom to see her splayed this way. Over the hum of the vibrators and the staccato of Michael's ragged breathing Karen heard the sound of the mower receding. She looked out in time to see Charles move out of view, no sign that he'd seen any of the show she'd put on.

"Michael, how fast can you be here?"

Charles was now working in the front yard, so Michael entered through the unlocked back patio door. He raced up the stairs two at a time and into the bedroom, stripping off his t-shirt, gym shorts and sneakers before he'd even reached the bed. He still had a college football player's body: broad shoulders, barrel chest, undefined (but not flabby) mid section. Both his arms and his legs were well muscled from years of weights and physical exertion, and being a red head, his body hair was almost non-existent. Karen had demanded that Michael continue shaving his cock and balls because she liked the sensation of fucking him with stubble. He fell on her and began kissing her passionately, his flaccid cock sliding between her legs. When she felt him harden she pushed him away and pulled the vibrator out of her pussy.

"Make me cum with your mouth," she teased, spreading herself wide.

He moved down, licking hungrily, and worked his rigid tongue between the folds of her outer lips. He could feel the vibrator in her ass as he lapped feverishly, trying to catch as much of the juice that spilled from between her legs. The sound of the front door downstairs opening and closing stopped them cold, their hearts banging in their chests.

"Honey," Charles called, his voice moving toward the bottom of the stairs. "Are my sunglasses up there? The dark ones?"

Still focused on the task at hand, Michael pried Karen's legs apart and scooted further between them, until he was able to grasp her clit between his teeth.

"No!" she gasped as bolts of pleasure rocketed through her groin. "I-I think they're on the table," she groaned, half out of her mind.

They heard him walk away from the stairs, followed by the sounds of rummaging. Son of a bitch, Karen thought; this kid WAS going to make her cum. She clawed at the bed, trying to pull her pussy closer to his mouth, until Charles' voice halfway up the stairs sent a different jolt running through her.

"I don't see them. Are you sure they're not up there?" he asked

"Oh God, Charles, they're not here; look in your car," she begged.

Michael was merciless, nibbling, covering her outer lips and clit with small, sharp bites, while licking hard, forcing his tongue inside her. Together with the vibrator going to town in her ass, she was on the edge. At this point, she was having trouble thinking straight. Charles was only a few yards away; if he caught them, what would she do? At this point, did she care?

"The car? You think so?" he asked, even closer now.

"Jesus yes!" she nearly screamed, her hips bucking violently.

"Okay, okay, I'll check the car," Charles muttered, retreating back down the stairs.

It took all of Michael's strength to keep his face buried between Karen's legs, continuing to tongue her pussy. The sound of the lawnmower starting outside gave her renewed strength and she slid from under him, taking care to hold the vibrator tight in her ass. She moved over to the windowsill where she could see Charles mowing in his damnable pattern. She bent over and reached under, parting her labia.

"Come here, sweetie," she cooed. "Show me again how good you use that cock of yours."

Michael jumped up behind her, filling the window frame. They were plainly visible to anyone who cared to look up, especially Charles. This was also the kind of neighborhood that people loved to drive through on Saturday mornings, imagining that one day they too would own a house here. Today they would definitely get more than they bargained for. Just the thought made his already swollen cock seem to double in size. In the short time he'd been fucking Karen Thompson (even he wasn't naïve enough to call this dating), they'd both discovered that the possibility of being caught increased their level of arousal one hundredfold. However, when she'd first suggested this stunt, he'd flat out refused; fun was fun, but this bordered on suicidal. Yet here they were, fucking in her bedroom window in plain sight with her husband roaming around under them. Every time the lawnmower came into view he felt Karen's pussy tighten around his cock. Alternately, any time a car drove by he slammed into her hard enough to make the frame rattle.

He could feel the vibrator buried in her ass faintly against the shaft of his cock as he fucked her. Every once in a while, if everything lined up just right, he would wince with pleasure when the ridge of his cock head brushed the vibrator through the common inner wall between her ass and her pussy.

When Michael suddenly pulled his cock all of the way out, it had the same effect as splashing her with ice-cold water.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she screamed so loud he was surprised that Charles hadn't heard her.

Ignoring her question, he spun her around and sat her on the sill, forcing the vibrator even deeper into her ass. Karen blinked rapidly, conflicting sensations of emptiness and stimulation short-circuiting her brain. Next, Michael placed a hand flat against her pussy, taking care not to insert any fingers but providing a hard surface for her to rub her clit against. He then bent down and sucked one of her rock hard nipples into her mouth, coaxing a contented sigh out of her. He could hear her breathing pick up, knew her orgasm was only moments away, and somehow found the strength to stand up and move back, breaking all contact. The abruptness of the act once again stunned her, causing her to lose her balance and slide off the sill onto the hardwood floor with a squishy plop. She cursed at him so vehemently that she would have made a dockworker proud, but trailed off when she realized that his cock looked harder and thicker than she'd ever seen it before.

"Michael, what's going on?"

He smiled, stroking his cock. "Just thought you'd like to see how I feel most times. Pretty intense, huh?"

In response she stood up, grabbed him by the cock, and led him out into the hall. Downstairs, they tumbled into Charles' study, a small, book lined room in the front of the house just off the main hallway. There was one small window in here, set high in the wall, which would allow them to hear when he was done but wouldn't provide him with a view of their activities. She perched herself on the desk and urgently guided Michael into her, wrapping her legs around his waist. He lowered his head and bit down on her nipple as he entered her, tasting the salt and the musk of her arousal. As slow as he could he pistoned in and out of her, her pussy molding to every swell and curve of his cock and gripping it tightly. They were both panting now, his breath hot on her breasts, her legs viselike. As the sound of the lawnmower grew closer he rammed her harder, faster, racing to deliver an orgasm before her husband finished the lawn and discovered them. Their thighs slapped wetly as he drilled home, the vibrator in her ass helping her reach new heights.

With the lawnmower at its loudest, just on the other side of the wall from the sound of it, Michael rose up to his full height, grabbed Karen by her hips and pulled her onto his cock as hard as he could. She buried her head in his chest and bit down to keep from shouting as she felt him finally shoot, and then she too began to cum. He pounded harder, and it felt like the vibrator buzzed stronger, and Karen started to hyperventilate as the orgasm roared over her, suffocating her. Michael held her close, his cock twitching inside her, while he waited for her to finish.

"The mower stopped," he whispered, suddenly panicked.

"You have to get out of here!" she hissed, wide eyed. "It only takes him a few seconds to get everything put away, and he always comes through the kitchen door!"

"But what about my clothes?"

She shook her head frantically as she pushed him away. "There's no time. Quick, out the patio door."

She jumped off the desk, pausing just long enough to pull the vibrator out of her ass and toss it under the desk.

"You've got to be kidding," he protested as she hustled him through the kitchen and into the family room, his dangling cock spraying flecks of cum and pussy juice. "I can't go out there naked!"

"Please!" she pleaded. "Your house is just over the other side of the fence. You'll be home before anyone sees you."

By "anyone" he knew she meant Charles. The odds that one of his neighbors would see him streaking home were high, but didn't have nearly the same repercussions as getting caught in here like this. Karen yanked open the patio door and shoved Michael out, giving him a quick kiss as he passed through. He stood on the deck, naked and dumbfounded, until he saw the door between the garage and the kitchen swing inward, prompting him to turn and flee toward the back of the Thompson's property. Charles stopped just inside, puzzled by the sight of his wife leaning seductively against the patio doors without a stitch of clothing on.

"Karen, what do you think you're doing?"

She put a leg up on a nearby end table and inserted a finger deep inside her pussy, withdrew them and licked them erotically. The taste of herself mixed with Michael made her tingle.

"I thought maybe we could start another springtime tradition," she answered wickedly.

-The End-