If you have not read chapter 1, I suggest you do so before reading chapter 2. If you like this story, and would like to see it continued, please leave a comment and vote.
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The sun had begun to set in the western sky at the Jackson estate. The sweltering heat began to abate and a cooling breeze flowed in from the northwest. Off in the distance, the call of a bobwhite quail could be heard.
Erica Jackson sat quietly outside her bedroom on the balcony, looking down at the lights around her private pool which had begun to come on with the approach of dusk. She sat in a white rocking chair next to a small white oval table. She wore a scarlet red T-back baby doll nighty and nothing else. Her petite feet were bare. Her long chestnut hair was piled high upon her head. In her hand was a tumbler filled with gin and orange juice. She drank deeply from it.
Erica almost never drank alcohol in quantity, but the drink she held in her hand was her third. She was not pleased with her situation. Her life was seemed out of control. She wanted a child, and her husband had not planted one in her, even though she had quit her birth control pills some time ago. She envied her friends who popped out babies as easily; it seemed, as popping corn. It wasn't fair.
Erica was mad at her husband. She had long been aware of the rumors of his infidelity, but recently she had noticed signs of his adultery. She had found lipstick stains on the collar of one of his carelessly discarded dress shirts. Then came the pack of matches she found with the words "Cherie 554 8795" inscribed in ink.
Her husband was a powerful man in the county. No doubt, many women would allow him into their beds just to get next to his money. They probably all thought to unseat Erica as mistress of the Jackson fortune. "Piss on them." she thought. She contemplated how much of her husbands seed had been wasted on these whore's, seed that could be growing in her this very moment.
Erica raised her legs and propped them up on the rail of the balcony, spreading her legs, allowing the cooler evening temperatures to caress her nether regions. The breeze raised the hem of her nighty and it flapped in the wind. The cooler air felt good to her. She drank deeply again from her drink.
Erica's thoughts drifted to how ashamed she had been after her encounter with Josh Richards in the glen. She thought about what a fool she had been to go there. Surprised as she was, to find Josh masturbating, she should have retreated demurely. Instead, she confronted him. Then when he had put his instrument away, she had asked to see it again.
Erica blushed pale thinking of the incident, and her left hand covered her eyes for a moment, as if the blot out the wicked thoughts that stirred her mind, but her pussy responded to the memory. She thought about the magnificent organ she had encountered, and her brain became inflamed with lust. She allowed her left hand to softly stroke her pussy rubbing circles around her clit. A fire began to kindle.
Erica was unaware that her husband, Bob, had entered their bedroom. He took off his jacket and tie, deposited his watch on the dresser, and then went into the bathroom to pee. He had seen the French doors open to the balcony. He knew his wife must be out there. Bob stripped his clothing and entered the huge shower, soaping away the stress and sweat of the day. When he had finished, he briefly toweled the dampness from his torso, then proceeded to the balcony to find his wife.
Bob stood there naked and silent, observing his beautiful wife. Erica was unaware of his presence. He allowed his eyes to feast on the glorious upturned breasts tucked gently and barely into the sheer baby doll lingerie she wore. No man on earth could remain unaffected by such a display. Bob felt his cock begin to stir. Bob noticed the drink in her hand. He spoke to his wife, "A little late for a drink for you, isn't it, Erica?"
"I don't tell you how much Scotch to drink, do I?" she spat back.
"No you don't, and it wouldn't do you any good if you did. Put down the drink and come to bed with me." Bob said.
Erica looked sideways at Bob and rolled her eyes. Bob waited a few moments, then walked up to her, grabbed the drink from her hands, and pitched it off the balcony. The glass shattered on rock below.
He took her by the arm and pulled her from the chair to crush her against his naked hairy body, his arms encircling her to grasp and claw at her firm athletic ass. His mouth covered hers in a passionate wet kiss. His hand came to her hair and he tilted her head to expose her delicate neck. He planted soft kisses on her throat.
Bob led his wife into the bedroom and to the huge bed. Once there he spun her around to face him. He moved toward her, she retreated as far as she could until she could retreat no more.
With one eye cocked, Bob asked "are you going to take off that little number, or do I need to rip it off?"
Erica weighted her options. While it was true, she was mad at her husband, on the other hand, they both wanted the same thing. She wanted her husband to paint her womb with his seed. Bob wanted the same thing. Also, the desire that had started to burn in her loins from her private masturbation, inspired by the memory of Josh, had not been satisfied. She touched the hem of the baby doll and lifted it over her head. She threw it across the room to the floor. She stood naked before her husband.
Bob reached out and took a nipple in each hand, pulling gently and twisting. Bob admired his wife's breasts. He had seen some fine breasts in his time, up close and personal, some on TV, some in magazines. Yet none compared to Erica's. They were firm and full, not big and saggy, with upturned nipples set upon small areola that responded to the slightest touch.
Erica closed her eyes in response to her husband's attention to her breasts. Her breasts were extremely sensitive and sexual. Bob's right hand began to caress her left hip and thigh, heightening her arousal. His lips descended upon her right breast, licking and sucking like a man starved. Erica felt her knees begin to weaken. She wanted to recline on the bed, but he held her. His lips wandered from one breast to another and then back to her throat, kissing and licking, creating urgency in Erica's loins.
Bob's right hand stopped caressing her thighs and hips to insert his middle finger into her cunt. Erica shuddered at first contact. While his middle finger invaded her passage, his thumb manipulated her clit. Her arousal had become so intense that she was sure she would climax tonight. Her husband fucked her pussy with his finger until she herself became the aggressor. She kissed her husband with a fevered passion and reached for his manhood, grasping it and stroking it passionately. Her hands cupped his balls as if weighing them to determine the amount of sperm they might produce.
Bob Jackson, sufficiently aroused, instructed Erica to lie down on the bed. He told her to turn over as to get on all fours, presenting her ass to him. Erica complied, as she had done so many times before. Lust burned in both husband and wife.
Bob let his eyes feast upon the sight of Erica's magnificent display. He grasped his cock with his right hand, his left hand grasping her right buttock. He nudged his cock against her cunt, rubbing up and down her crevice, creating and absorbing moisture, slowly stirring her desire.
"Don't tease me, please." She begged. Bob was delighted to hear her begging.
Erica's pussy had begun to drip with her juices; Bobs cock had smeared them all over her ass. Her bells were beginning to ring. Desire began to overwhelm her.
"Please!" she whimpered. "I can't take it."
