Lynn and Bobby

Chapter 9: The Cuckold's Chin Rest

Lynn's mother was in the hospital again and Lynn was back East. I was a bachelor, but Princess kept me company when her husband Gene was out of town – which was often now that there was some new activity in Saudi Arabia. Princess and I were having a drink at the club, when we saw ... But, maybe I'd better start at the beginning.

My wife Lynn and I got married several years ago, fresh out of college and settled in San Diego where we have a beautiful home in the suburbs and belong to a nice country club. Our marriage is sound now, but Lynn had had a brief and very unpleasant affair, and Princess had been quite supportive after it was over. Princess was a lovely thirty-something blond with a fabulous figure. She was the trophy wife of a wealthy oil engineer, thirty years her senior. When her husband, Gene, was out of town she joined Lynn and me for a delightful threesome and when Lynn was visiting her mother, which seemed all to often recently, Princess and I were a couple, with Lynn's blessing of course, provided we kept a low profile. It is a very complicated story, but with a little time you'll figure it out.

Anyway, Princess and I were having a drink at the club, when a very attractive blond walks in. She could have been Princess' twin sister. She looks around, sees Princess, waves a big smiling hello and heads for our table. I had seen her around the club but I wasn't sure who she was. When she got to the table I stood up to meet her.

"Hi Blanche," she said to Princess. Blanche was Princess' real name. Princess was a nickname that Lynn and I used most of the time. We gave her that name because the ladies of the club suspected that she had screwed some of their husbands – suspected correctly as it turned out – and started calling her "The Princess."

"Bobby, this is Janice – Janice meet Bobby," said Princess. "Janice is an old friend."

As Janice joined us she pointed to Princess' drink. "I'll have the same."

I waved at the waitress and signaled another drink.

"Most people call her Janice, but she has a nickname just like me," said Princess.

"Damn it Blanch! Are you gonna tell that story again? If you do, I'm gonna start calling you Princess!"

Princess laughed. "Of course I'm going to tell that story again. It's too damn funny not to tell. Don't worry about Bobby. He's a swinger and knows how to keep his mouth shut."

"Okay, Princess – tell me," I said.

Princess started the tale. "Janice is divorced and sometimes she gets horny between boyfriends. About a year ago she set her eye on this guy Ray who is a big good looking stud with muscles and a hairy chest."

"I know who you mean – big guy, on the Board of the club, doesn't play much golf but sits around the pool a lot," I said.

"Yeah, that's him," said Princess. "His wife's name is Joan. So, anyway, Janice got a little drunk at a big party and took her clothes off in a room she knew Ray was gonna walk into. She wanted him to see her naked. Thought he might get interested in her."

I looked at Janice. She just sat there shaking her head. She was not embarrassed in the least. I think Princess must have told this tale a lot.

"So what happened?" I asked.

Janice spoke up. "Let me tell it. He walks into the room. I'm standing there, trying to pose, trying to look sexy, as if drunk, buck-naked, and spike heels isn't sexy enough. He looks me up and down a couple of times, then, stares at my tits for a while. Then he shakes his head no and walks out."

The three of us break out in laughter loud enough that several club members turn and smile. It was a funny story.

"Well," continued Princess, "he tells his wife the story. She gets irritated and gives Janice a nickname that has stuck to her like Princess has stuck to me."

"What was it?"

"Mrs. Robinson," Princess says and all three of us burst out laughing again. The members of the club are now convinced that we are telling dirty jokes.

"You mean like the movie," I said, "where a thirty-something gal shows herself naked to her daughter's boyfriend. What was it ... oh yeah, 'The Graduate'"

"So, ever since, her close friends call her Mrs. Robinson."

"Ray just wasn't interested. What ever happened to Ray anyway?" Princess asked Mrs. Robinson, "I heard that Ray had a thing with Carol and later Joan got with Jerry. I don't get it. They got together as a foursome? Or what?"

"Well not exactly. They got together once - only it was a five-some because they included me."

"That sounds like fun," I said

"It was, sorta, but actually it was more like ... you know ... therapeutic."

"Therapeutic?" Said Princess.

"It's a long and complicated story," said Mrs. Robinson. "Ray had to learn how to fuck his wife."

"Learn how to fuck his wife?" I said. "Princess you do have the most interesting friends."

"As I said. It's a complicated story," said Mrs. Robinson. "You see, Jerry fucked her better than Ray did and he had to teach Ray how to do it."

"Did Ray learn?" I asked. This was getting interesting.

"Yeah," Mrs. Robinson said. "It only took one lesson."

We three erupted in laughter again and the other couples in the club now had no doubt at all about what we were doing. We were telling dirty jokes.

"Anyway, Ray and Joan spent a lot of time together after he learned to fuck her and kinda gave up swinging for a while," said Mrs. Robinson.

"That's a great story," I said. "Lynn's gonna enjoy it."

"Where's your husband?" Mrs. Robinson asked Princess.

"Saudi Arabia, as usual. And Bobby's wife Lynn is with her mother back East. Would you like to join us tonight for dinner and ... whatever? Bobby's got a great hot tub."

Mrs. Robinson actually looked me over like a piece of meat – at least as much as she could see of me sitting there at the table with my clothes on. I felt as though I were being inspected as a potential breeding animal. Her expression left no doubt about what was on her mind.

"That sounds like a great idea," she said. "And I know a great new restaurant."

Mrs. Robinson was right. It was a great restaurant. When we got back to my place after dinner we went out on the patio and enjoyed some Drambuie. One thing led to another and we went into the house to put on those big white fluffy robes we often wore on the patio before and after the hot tub. I got back first, hung up my robe, and got in the tub. I wanted to see Mrs. Robinson in the buff – she had impressed me a lot at dinner.

The girls came back, sat their drinks on the side of the tub, hung up their robes, and headed back to the tub buck-naked. I enjoyed the view. They could have been twins except that Princess had a sparse beaver while Mrs. Robinson had a big, lush, curly haired, brunet beaver – the kind that looked good enough to eat. I decided then and there, that I would do exactly that, later in the evening. Both ladies had large breasts with that slight sexy sag of maturity – the kind that turned me on because when the gal got on top to fuck me, her boobs hung down and jiggled right over my face. I could just watch 'em or play with 'em.

They took their time getting into the tub. They knew exactly what I was looking at. Both had the kind of body that makes guys quiver and girls claim they are twenty pounds overweight. Creamy white breasts and butts protected from the sun, contrasted with the deep bronze tan of their smooth arms and bellies. Both had great legs and both were proud of them – when they stripped in the house and put on robes they had kept on their spike heels simply for that short naked walk to the hot tub from the rack where they hung their robes. Vanity thy name is woman! But when I looked at those long, tan, naked legs in heels I thought, maybe, I was glad they did that.

Of course they giggled. It is a female reflex, I believe, that when two or more girls are naked with a man – they always giggle. We luxuriated in the water and sipped our Drambuie, as Princess and Mrs. Robinson swapped stories and caught up on the news. As they talked it was clear that Mrs. Robinson was looking for a new boyfriend and Princess wanted to help. I listened with amusement as they went through a list of potential guys. Princess had always talked in a totally uninhibited manner in front of me and Mrs. Robinson began to do the same. They were evaluating the most likely possibilities.

"Well, he's good looking and I don't think he's gay," said Princess about one candidate.

"Are you sure he's not Bi?" Mrs. Robinson asked suspiciously.

"I'm not sure about that."

"Look - Princess, we've been through almost a dozen good looking guys and there's almost nobody left if you eliminate the gay guys and the Bi guys and the cucks. I'm looking for a straight guy but every guy we've talked about is a little bit bent."

"Cucks aren't that bad," said Prncess. "You know what a nice guy Jerry is."

"Jerry is a wonderful guy," said Mrs. Robinson. "Carol and Jerry and I had a fantastic threesome just last week – it was awesome – but Jerry is an exception. Look at your friends Dave and Sandy. Dave has made almost as much money in the oil business as your husband – he's a top executive - but he is a prisoner of his cuck fetish. If Sandy didn't take care of him he'd have been in deep shit by now. I don't want a guy I have to take care of."

Princess turned to me. "Bobby, do you think that's true about Dave? You met him and you and Lynn did a foursome with them. What about guys like him?"

"Dave functions very well as long as Sandy is there with him. I'm not saying that you can't cure a fetish." I gave a warning glance at Princess and she nodded that she understood there was to be no mention of Lynn's fetish.

"In fact," I continued, "I think some can be cured. Lynn and I have been with Dave and Sandy several times and I think Dave is getting better. But, it's not something I'd recommend you to start out with. I think you should find a regular guy."

"Do you know any?" Princess asked, laughing. "They seem to be an endangered species".

"Have you thought about the new club Pro?" I asked.

"Marc's married," said Princess.

"He was married," I said. "He left his old wife when he left his old job."

"How old is he?" Princess asked.

"About 35," I answered.

"I can pass for 35," said Mrs. Robinson."

"I can too," said Princess. "Bobby, do you think we could interest him in Mrs. Robinson?"

"If he could see what I just saw walking naked in spike heels toward this hot tub, I'm sure it would capture his interest. But I don't think he's interested in another marriage," I said.

"I don't want to marry him," Mrs. Robinson protested. "I just want to fuck him."

"Well now. I understand. Would you like to meet him with your clothes on or your clothes off?"

We chuckled. Princess agreed that this was a golden opportunity and after some talk we decided that I would set up a blind date between Marc and Mrs. Robinson, or rather Janice. The story of her nickname would come later. Dinner at a restaurant, then if there were no chemistry it would be a regular date. If there were chemistry he would take her back to her apartment for the appropriate ritual.

"Now that we've settled that," said Princess, "lets have a little fun. You've had a lot of experience Mrs. Robinson, but you haven't lived until you've had a Bobby-job. You need a Bobby-job before we three hit that big king sized bed."

"If a Bobby-job is what I think it is, I'd love one."

"Just get up on the mat and spread those lovely legs," Princess said. "But you gotta understand, that you will be disappointed in every tongue you meet from now on."

I had to laugh at Princess. She always talked about me that way and it was flattering to be sure but I didn't think I was as good as she claimed and I was always expecting to find some broad who would present a challenge I could not meet. But I had seen that thick hairy beaver – the kind I loved – and I was gonna give it my best shot. Mrs. Robinson was on her back on the mat – those magnificent legs spread wide with her knees high in the air. I climbed up to meet the challenge.

"But I gotta warn you Bobby," Princess said, "Jerry claim's she's got the second biggest pussy in San Diego."

"Jesus!" I mumbled looking at gaping wet lips. "I'd hate to see the first!"

I moved between her legs and looked at the biggest pussy I had ever seen, yawning below that magnificent beaver. Her wet inner lips were engorged, hung out of her labia a good two inches, and they gaped wide open. Brown curly hair, almost black, grew down from that beaver in a wide band, surrounding her pussy and spreading out to her inner thighs. When I licked her clit I got that succulent taste and smell of anchovies that I loved. This gal had been thinking about having this big thing serviced all day long and she was wet and ready.

To work. It's all a matter of experience and know-how, I keep reminding myself. I always start with the clit because, for most girls, that's the center of their world. This clit was bigger than my little finger and got rock hard when I tongued it. It was not one of those supersensitive clits where the gal jumps in the air when you touch it. This broad had probably rubbed a big strong vibrator up and down her pussy for years and her clit was ground zero. Then I worked my way down to her widespread, engorged inner lips. They were the biggest pussy lips I had ever seen – or tongued, to be more precise. I worked down one and back up the other to her clit. There was no need to be light tongued because there were no sensitive spots. This bitch had been fucked a lot and fucked hard.

I was frustrated because almost every gal has a place where she is very sensitive and you can drive her wild with light touches. Usually it's the spot where she touches the tip of her vibrator lightly when she masturbates. Where was her spot? I shoved my tongue into her vagina and worked around the entire opening – then put two fingers in her, searching for a sensitive place. No luck. She was enjoying what I was doing to her – I mean she obviously liked it a lot. Her pussy was dripping wet – I had her juices really flowing. But she was still in control and I wasn't. I had never worked this hard before and failed to take control and have the gal moaning and begging. Well, there had to be something someplace. Look elsewhere.

I worked my way down south again and I went all the way to that small patch of skin between her asshole and pussy. It's known as "The Cuckold's Chin Rest" because it's where the cuckold rests his chin while performing his husbandly duties, as an impatient lover waits to make a second deposit.

When I got there she jumped. I moved my tongue down to her asshole, tongued it deep, and she jumped again. I went back up to tickle the chin rest and she started squirming her ass trying to avoid my tongue. I grabbed her shapely thighs and squeezed them tight against my head giving me full control of her position. Then I worked my tongue from her pussy down that sensitive piece of skin and tongued her asshole deep. I kept my tongue traveling this rout tickling her rapidly. She couldn't escape my grip although she made frantic hip motions trying to. Then she cried out for the first time.

"Oh God! Oh Please! No! Don't! Please! No!"

I had the bitch now – I was in control. I lightened up my touch. Then I buried my face in that big dripping pussy. I was literally rubbing her clit with my face. I kept my tongue working on that sensitive chin-rest as rapidly as I could, moving from her pussy to her asshole and back. She started to grunt like an animal and hump like a whore. I could let go of her thighs now. And when I did she spread her legs wide, dropped her feet to the floor to get better leverage, and humped my face as hard as she could. She wanted it.

I had her. She was working with me now for her orgasm and when it came the contractions of that big pussy squirted her juices out onto my face. Her body trembled violently. And she moaned and cried out words I couldn't understand. Her contractions finally eased and she lay still, breathing heavily. My face was resting on that big, loose pussy. I was exhausted.

Then, I rolled back into the hot tub and immersed my head, washing her juices from my face. Princess had been standing in the tub holding Mrs. Robinson's head, caressing her face, and whispering reassurances. Mrs. Robinson was panting for air and her body was covered with sweat. She was exhausted from her efforts.

Princess was the first to speak. "I told you he was good."

"I didn't think you meant that good." Mrs. Robinson said, breathing heavily. "Nobody can make me come unless I'm stoned or I'm in control and want to. But you're right. He got control. He had me. My ass just took over and did what it wanted – or rather, what he wanted. Jesus that was good!"

Princess turned to me, "What did you think Bobby?"

I had my breath now. "Princess, that was the Mount Everest of pussies. If that's the second biggest pussy in San Diego, I don't ever wanna see the first biggest."

"Oh but you're gonna have to," laughed Princess. "Jerry says his wife has the first biggest and she wants to meet you because I've told Jerry and Carol so much about you."

Is there a mountain higher than Everest? I wondered, silently.