Nikki strolled the aisles, pursing her lips in deep thought as the titles flashed by. How could one really tell whether Blonde in Heat would be any more intriguing than Maid's Day Off or Alice in the Penis Patch? At first, she hesitated to pick up the DVD cases to read more—despite her open-mindedness around sex, she'd never selected porn in a video store before. It seemed very telling to handle a DVD case, for that alerted anybody nearby to what you were into, and although she was open-minded, she was also private.
She eyed the man a few feet away from her. She got the feeling that if she picked up a DVD to read the back of it, he'd find a way to initiate a conversation about the film, a prospect that did not encourage leisurely shopping. Nevertheless, she had to choose something and if there were one thing she knew how to do, it was shop. She came into the place for a reason and did not intend to leave empty-handed.
She'd quickly discerned that the store was divided into fetishes: big boobs, asses, dominance and submission, and a row with stuff that looked downright satanic. Naughty wife movies were mixed into every genre, which complicated her search. Eventually, however, she found a section that classified films by their director. Cameron Grant and Andrew Blake seemed good choices—the covers featured beautiful women dressed in elegant but sexy clothing, unlike most of the others with their genitalia and grimaces to suggest what the viewer was in for. Other directors looked good, too, and within a couple of minutes, she'd chosen two films: Everybody Loves Ramona and While He Was Out.
As she paid for the DVDs, she did a few mental calculations to determine how much time she had to preview the films before she'd next see Ed, but then decided that it would be best to watch them as he would—fresh and ready for anything.
When they returned from a fabulous dinner at the new restaurant in midtown Nikki had been wanting to try, Ed couldn't hold his question any longer.
"What the heck is in that bag?"
She laughed and tossed her chic leather satchel on a nearby chair. "Whatever do you mean?" She feigned confusion.
"I mean, young lady, that you rarely carry a purse bigger than your hand, especially when we go out to dinner. What's up?"
She bent over the bag to retrieve something from it. "Oh, you'll see." She quickly opened the case of Everybody Loves Ramona and withdrew the disk. Smiling at Ed, she slipped it into the DVD player, kicked off her shoes, and curled up on the sofa.
"I thought we'd watch a movie this evening," she purred.
A movie? Since when was Nikki a film buff?
"Really? Which one?" He asked, disappointed but willing to indulge her.
"Why don't you just sit down next to me and find out?"
When the title appeared on the screen, Ed laughed out loud. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"
She grinned at him and winked. "And hope to be for the rest of our lives."
He finally sat down next to her, already feeling the familiar tingle of desire at his crotch. She wore a bronze and cream paisley print mini dress and as she sat with her feet grazing the backs of her thighs, a fetching glimpse of firm derriere was exposed. He sat to her right, the direction in which her body was turned. The dress was long-sleeved but low-cut and she wore no bra. Although her hair was up in a large comb, several locks hung loose, suggesting that unleashing it all would be a simple matter. She stared at the screen, pretending that what was there riveted her. After several minutes of feeling his stare, however, she turned to him with a crooked smile.
"Are you going to watch me or the film?"
"I'm not sure yet."
"Ugh!" she said, exaggerating her frustration. But she smiled and snuggled up closer to him. "Come on, now. Let's watch."
The first scene opened with a tall, Nordic-looking deliveryman carrying a package up the well-manicured walk of stately, suburban home in a wealthy neighborhood.
"I'll bet he's going to deliver more than one package," Ed said under his breath.
"Ssshhhhh!"
A busty, attractive brunette opened the door to greet the deliveryman. She wore an apron to indicate her housewifery but that's where the identification stopped. Her tight midriff top in luminous white held her large breasts firm and encouraged her hard nipples outward. Her tiny skirt was shorter that her apron—upon which was printed in happy red cursive, "What's cookin'?"—and her clunky high heels made her posture just impudent enough to evoke a look of surprise from the deliveryman.
"Package for a Ramona Sherman," he said, eying the housewife up and down as if he'd never seen such luscious womanhood on his route before.
"Well, that's me! Come on in. I just baked some cookies!"
The deliveryman paused but then sniffed the air with a delighted smile and stepped over the threshold. As Ramona chattered on about the kind of cookies that were baking, the camera focused on her shapely ass, following it like the deliveryman's eyes undoubtedly were. When the couple arrived in the large, upscale kitchen, she waved him into a nearby seat at the kitchen table and as he took it, he placed the package on the table.
"Now, then," she said as she bent to open the oven door. "Let's see how they're coming along. I always bake when my cook has the day off. My cookies bring all kinds of people to the house, which is good because I get so lonely during the day. My husband's always telling me to keep busy."
She slid the pan of cookies toward her and examined them. Meanwhile, the blonde deliveryman examined her upturned ass. Her cheeks were bare—no panties—and as she appraised her cookies, she wiggled her ass from side to side in contemplation. Her pussy lips, shaved and swollen, beckoned. The camera moved in on her, simulating the deliveryman's perspective.
Another camera angle showed the deliveryman face first between the housewife's ass cheeks as he ran his palms over her hips and thighs.
The housewife was, of course, not surprised in the least by this outburst of appreciation, and remained bent over, even as she withdrew the cookies and closed the oven door. She used the range top as a place to rest her hands while the deliveryman sampled her private taste treats.
"Is this how you'll spend your time once we're married?" Ed asked, chuckling.
"Not unless you want me to," Nikki replied. She tried to read his thoughts. Was he at all turned on by the idea of a wife filling her days with an endless stream of male visitors?
"I've never seen you bake."
"But I can learn. It looks like fun!"
The deliveryman ate the housewife's cunt for several minutes as the camera caught every flick of his tongue. Ed didn't draw any attention to his hard-on but neither did he try to hide it. He wanted to see what Nikki had in mind by asking him to watch the film. Normally, Nikki was the main attraction and certainly always the primary seductress. Why she would direct his attention to another woman on this evening perplexed him, but he was willing to wait to find out more.
"Do you like the movie?" Nikki asked him in between nibbles at his ear.
"Well, it's definitely unexpected," he said.
Nikki slipped her hand between his legs. "Sometimes surprises can be fun," she observed, stroking the length of his swollen cock. Their mouths met in the kind of slow, languid kissing that drove him wild. Nikki knew how to kiss to communicate such a multitude of plans, ideas, and moods—and it always took him some time to figure out what those were, but it was time well spent, he'd always found. Tonight, her warmth flowed freely, as it always did, but he wasn't picking up any specific signals or commands. He'd never known her to be so ... receptive. Tonight her pliant body and full lips absorbed his energy and sent back only an acknowledgement rather than a counter-signal. Not that he minded this new approach, but its genesis confounded him.
They continued watching the film, kissing and nuzzling throughout, using each other to indicate bored or aroused reactions to the on-screen activities.
The gardener watched as the disheveled deliveryman got back in his truck, sans package. When the truck rolled away and was out of sight, the gardener, a youthful Pacific Islander with a wide body and firm step, strode up to the back door and knocked. The housewife quickly finished reapplying her lipstick and did a final check of her slighty askew hair before answering the door. Her formality was somewhat ridiculous, given that he'd knocked on the metal part of the screen door and could see her making her final reparations through the screen portion. He watched her hungrily, with wide eyes that didn't even attempt to hide his desire.
"Your cookies smell good, Miz Ramona," he said through the screen.
"Why, thank you, Armando. Would you like some?"
"Oh yes, ma'am!"
She opened the door to admit him, arching her back slightly so that her breasts made his passage more challenging. Awkward but excited, he brushed against them as he tried to get by her. When he was in the kitchen, Ramona invited him to sit in the same spot where the deliveryman had received his treats (which, by the way, had included more than just oral sex). This time, however, she didn't bend over to check the oven. Instead, she stood very close to the trembling gardener, effortlessly wielding her spatula to remove her now-cool cookies from the baking sheet. As she leaned toward the table to accomplish her task, her sizable breast pressed against Armando's temple.
"Oh, I shouldn't have let these cool here on the sheet," she said. "Now they'll be all dry and crumbly."
"Did the deliveryman try your cookies?" Armando blurted out.
"Why, yes. He did. He seemed to like them."
Armando looked so crestfallen, even Ramona took notice. "Don't worry, honey. I never give all my cookies to one person."
With her free hand, she raised her top to expose one perfect breast. The gardener was so disoriented and thrilled by this turn of events—even though the viewer was led to believe that it was not the first time he'd enjoyed her cookies—that he was unable to control himself and immediately took the breast in both hands, aimed the prodigious nipple with its ample areole at his face, and took it to his lips.
Ramona let him suck while she swung one long leg over his lap and straddled him as she unzipped his trousers. A cock so thick and unearthly in its hardness emerged and the camera stayed on its deep mocha-colored shaft as her fingers caressed it. Armando sucked at her tit like it might give him the strength to keep from coming right then and there.
