(The readers appreciation of this story will be enchanced greatly by reading Part 1 first)
Chapter 2
Sherri lay there beside me, quiet, still, beautiful.
She had offered breakfast, but more importantly, she had offered herself for my sexual pleasure.
More accurately, her husband had offered her. "Everything in my house is yours," he said in the pre-dawn hours as he left to go shrimp fishing on the Louisiana bayou.
Sherri was a dream come true. Not more than 5 feet tall, she was built like a scale model Venus. Long dark raven tresses cascaded. Black eyes flashed with spirit and a delightful attitude. Lips were soft, red, eager.
"You see," she said as we both stretched out nude in a bed where she had just sucked me off with skill and passion. "Some of us like to play. Well, some of the husbands like us to play."
"All of the wives around here?" I asked.
"No. Just some. I do not know all, because we girls really do not discuss it. "
Sherri moved to press her succulent body against me, her head resting on my chest, one hand moving to cup my balls. As she continued to explain, her hand moved languidly, caressing, playing....from time to time reaching up to gently stroke me.
"It did not happen before we were married," she went on. "Cajun men are very jealous of their girlfriends.
"But just before we were married, my Mom came and sat down with me, and explained that the sharing that is a big part of the life of the people here often included wife sharing.
"For the first time, she told me she was a shared wife.
"I was shocked, of course, but she went on to explain it did not involve a lack of love. It was just something that seemed natural to many husbands.
"She advised me to never bring the subject up, and not to talk about it with other wives or with my girlfriends," Sherri continued.
"Soon after we were married, Herb had one of his friends over. As I was getting ready for bed, he came in the room and just told me his pal, Jean Luc, would be joining me in bed, and to make him welcome. Herb left, Jean Luc stayed, and it was wonderful, exciting, and I was doing something for my husband and for his friend.
"I never had any guilt, I never had any trouble in my mind. Some of the wives might have, but not me.
"After that, whenever one of his friends stayed over, I was expected to entertain him, to pleasure him."
Her hand continued to play with my balls, and the other one moved to hold my cock, once again erect.
"There was never any discussion between Herb and me about it. From the first time, it was just something he expected me to do, like a good wife.
"Most of the men he gives me to are married, but a couple are widowed. Those men get me more than the others."
She looked down to watch her hands moving on me.
"Hummmm...that sure looks yummy," she said, then moved over me and slid down on the rigid member.
She let out a deep sigh as her very wet pussy felt me inside her, and then began to move. Her hips thrust forward and then back, riding me.
At first she did it slowly, her eyes locked on mine as she fucked. But within a few moments she was grinding her body down on me and began to move more forcefully, more rapidly.
Soon her tiny body seemed to have gone wild.
She fucked with abandon, riding like a wild thing, the juices within her beginning to spill out onto me. I could feel the warmth and wetness flowing out of her and across me.
"Oh yes," Sherri said in a soft voice, slightly louder than a whisper. "Oh yes," she said again, a little louder.
Rocking back and forth, thrusting down, her long black hair tossed wildly as she flung her head back and forth in rhythm with her body, she began to cry out in moans and whimpers.
"Oh my god!" This time she was much louder, shouting. "Oh God, Oh God, Oh God."
And then I felt the very depth of her pussy begin to clutch me, to pulsate, again and again.
The muscles of her vagina clutched more strongly with each pulsation, until she was no longer in control.
"Oh fuck...yes...yes...do it. Give it to me. Please, please, please." She did not know what she was saying, where she was. Sherri just knew she was a woman in the midst of sexual bliss.
My cum shot out of me, up into her, and her eyes met mine again, opening wide in a look of pure astonishment.
"I love it!" she shouted, and then froze.
"I'm cummmmmmiiinnngg," she yelled, and a blast of hot liquid burst forth from between the lips of her cunt.
Her body shook, and another dose of her juices flooded me.
Her body seemed to relax. Her hands, which had grabbed my shoulders, relaxed. Her head dropped to rest on my chest. She gasped for breath, but within a few moments her breathing slowed.
Silently we held each other. The whole act had happened quickly. It seemed like hours of fucking, but I knew it had not been. Nonetheless, we were both covered in sweat....and now cum, hers and mine.
She did not raise her head, but said: "Holy s--t." Then seemed to collapse, her whole body stretched out against mine.
-----
It was some time later when we stirred.
"I hope you did not mind that I squirted," she said.
"No, no. I have heard about that, but never actually had it happen," I told her.
"It does not happen every time," Sherri said. "And by the way, it is NOT pee." She giggled, and the sound was like a hundred tiny silver bells tingling in the wind.
I watched her move to leave the room. What a vixen, I thought. Thin, but not skinny. Beautiful almost beyond words. Breasts that would have been lovely on a larger woman, but on her smaller body thay looked amazing. Round, with pert pink nipples that pointed slightly upward. Unlike many girls today, she did not shave her pubic hair, and the jet black patch there was full and, to me, exciting.
Just walking across the room, naked and glistening from a wild sexual romp, she was sensual, her natural motion a symphony. Her bottom looked like that of a statue....smooth, firm, round, bouncing slightly.
She went to the bathroom, demurely closing the door, only to return a few minutes later, bouncing across to my bed like a schoolgirl at recess.
She leapt into bed and kissed me passionately.
"May I call you Edwardo," she asked. "It can be my pet name for you."
"And what will you call this," I asked, pointing between my legs.
"My fuck machine," she giggled.
Without waiting to ask permission, her head dropped to my cock and licked it, cleaning off every drop of cum.
"You like that?"
She raised her head and continued to lick me. "Oh yes."
"Not all women do," I said.
"Silly girls," was her only reply.
When she had finished her task, I kissed her lips.
"Some men won't do that, after I lick them off," Sherri said.
I made no comment but kissed her again. Despite the fact I had climaxed twice in the past half hour, I felt my tool stirring again.
No wonder. Here was a stunning woman, and a married one, who clearly loved sex. Not the least inhibited, and as succulent as could be.
"I have some questions," I said.
She told me to ask away, and I did.
Some of what I learned surprised me. Sherri and Herb did not consider themselves swingers. They had never gone to a sex party, or even played with another couple in the same house.
She was well aware that Herb was often granted the same sexual privileges with the wives of his friends, but he did not brag about it, or even mention it to her.
None of the men who bedded her with her husband's permission ever made the slightest effort to do so at any other time than when Herb told them to join her.
Herb had never joined her and another man in bed. She once asked him about that, but he said he would never be comfortable in bed with another man.
Sherri thought she might have fucked 25 or 30 men so far, but had never had sex with two men at once.
"I think that would be fun," she told me. But she would never ask for it, and did not expect it to ever happen.
And I was the very first man from outside her husband's circle of friends and fellow shrimpers she had ever been told to give herself to.
-----
Sherri got dressed, sort of. All she put on with a frilly little apron. Her titties were visible, especially from the side, and it was short, so as she moved the thick black pubic hair could be seen. I watched her move around as I sat at a plain wooden kitchen table, drinking extremely strong coffee...with no sugar or milk, because that was the way Cajuns drank it. Her bottom looked delicious.
"I'm gonna make you some counch counch for breakfast," she said.
"I thought I just had some of that," I said.
She laughed. "This is a special morning dish."
"So are you."
We teased back and forth as she worked over the stove. She was as natural and relaxed as if she had been doing so at a county fair....except for the fact that she was practically naked in a room with a man not her husband, a man she had just royally fucked.