Authors: Ashley Ladd
A Total-E-Bound Publication
©Copyright Ashley Ladd 2010
Cover Art by Lyn Taylor ©Copyright October 2010
Edited by Andrea Grimm
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank,
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated
To everybody who is different. And to everybody who would like to spice up their relationship. This book is dedicated to you.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
: Pfizer Inc.
Milk Duds: Hershey’s
Superman: Time Warner
Demi Summers squirmed and writhed as her husband, Alex, suckled her nipple, and his thumb massaged her clit. Yearning for more, she pushed her breast deeper into his mouth.
At forty-five, her husband had finally grown into his skin. His shoulders were no longer bony with his skin stretched taut over them, but strong and broad like his Viking ancestors. When he glanced up at her, passion filled his normally laughing, slate grey eyes, showing more than a hint of the storms that brewed. Moonbeams glanced off his hair, making it brighter than it already was.
Around her breast he asked in a ragged voice, “What else would you like me to do?”
“Fuck me. No mercy,” she longed to say but bit her lip.
Ever since Alex’s diabetes had grown severe, he hadn’t been able to get an erection solid enough to fuck her. His doctors were afraid to give him the miracle medications on the market because of his poor health. Instead, she said on a moan, “Lick my pussy.”
Alex lifted his head and with a twinkle in his eyes, rubbed his chin across her breast grazing her flesh with his scratchy five o’clock shadow. “Would you like me to get the toys?”
The toys were a poor substitution for what she longed for. The word ‘toys’ made her ‘taste’ dry toast with only the merest hint of butter. But fearing she’d never get the real thing again, afraid she’d slaughter his feelings if she slipped and admitted that, she nodded. “Yes.”
When he left her and dug around in their private drawer, the mattress shifted and she rolled to her side. She let her gaze drink in her sexy hubby, let herself wish his cock would get hard enough to fuck her, wish she could feel a man’s big, hot cock driving into her. Two years was a long time to go without being one with a man.
Although she’d never say it to him, she imagined their trysts must be the same as having lesbian sex. It felt good. She had orgasms. But she sorely missed having a real cock plunge her pussy. She missed the full union of being with a man. She missed the rapture and the ecstasy.
Guilt and shame overcame her. It wasn’t Alex’s fault he couldn’t get an erection. He was still a sexy, loving man in every other way. His name tasted like delicious sweet apples on the tip of her tongue. He understood her rare condition, Lexical-gustatory synaesthesia, and he’d never treated her like a freak or made fun of her for tasting words. His kisses rocketed her to heaven, and she still longed for the day he would fuck her until she was in utter bliss.
Her mother had warned her about marrying a man twelve years older, had predicted this very thing. But Alex was only forty-five, not seventy. His diabetes had become debilitating early in life.
Alex turned to her with a wicked smile. He crawled onto the bed, pulled her into the middle of the mattress and buried his face between her legs. His head dipped until she could only see his springy hair, then his tongue swept her slit, long and sensually. He lapped at her and sucked her clit.
Her pussy clenched and she threaded her fingers through his hair, imprisoning him, pushing him deeper into her. She loved his magical tongue, wanted him to shove his fingers into her hole and work them in and out.
Instead he pulled back, patted the bed and grunted. Then he spread her pussy lips, and pushed something smooth and slick inside her.
She missed his warm, wet lips and whimpered. She visualised his real cock plunging long and deep, driving into her. When his balls slammed against her, her hips arched off the bed.
Delicious sensations stoked in her pussy. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in seventh heaven and moved in rhythm with his strokes.
He replaced the dildo with his lips and licked her.
Her thighs quivered. Her insides throbbed. Flares ignited and she burst into flame.
“Oh, yes!” She pulled his hair and wouldn’t allow him to escape.
When she couldn’t take anymore, she shoved at him and begged, “Have mercy. No more.”
But he lapped harder, greedily drinking of her, trapping her.
When she thought she’d die of pleasure, he released her and rolled onto his back.
His cock stood tall, and she hoped it was hard enough to slide inside. Holding her breath, she closed the gap between them and curled her fingers around it. Praying it would be hard and strong, she gently squeezed.
It was velvety soft and warm. But it was too limp for her purposes.
Still, he moaned and his lashes made a shadowy crescent over his eyes. He stroked her breast and rolled her nipple between his fingers. “That feels awesome. Lick me.”
Giving blow jobs had never been her favourite thing, but she wasn’t the kind of schmuck to take her pleasure and deny his, so she laid her head on his thigh and swept her tongue along the underside of his penis. She kissed the tip, rolled her tongue around the head, then suckled the soft scrotum. She tasted the word ‘penis’ on her tongue. It tasted like mint chocolate chip ice cream although she had no idea why the association.
While one hand caressed his shaft, the other stroked his balls. She propped herself up on her elbow to get better leverage and ran her tongue along the topside of his cock. Then she opened her mouth wide, stretching her lips till they ached and deep throated him. She repeated the word ‘penis’ in her mind, keeping the taste of the ice cream bursting into her mouth, mixed with his salty, musky taste.
He moaned louder and arched his hips off the bed, penetrating her mouth until it ached. His fingers trailed lightly down her stomach, across her mound then found her clit. He played with it, then delved a finger into her pussy.
With her lips tired and sore, she drew back. Wanting him to come, she caressed his scrotum. Then she cupped his balls in her hand, delighting in their weight and lightly scraped her fingernails over them.
Finally he groaned and arched his hips high off the mattress. His cum spurted into the air and splattered her face.
As his hips writhed, she continued to suckle him while gently pumping his cock.
“That was good.” He lay back on the bed and panted for breath.
. Her sentiments exactly. ‘Good’ tasted like canned corn, okay, but not nearly as scrumptious as fresh, buttery corn on the cob.
She longed for wonderful. Again, she felt like an ungrateful wife, a lousy lover. She’d signed on for better or worse. She’d made sacred vows.
It could be worse. He could hold back intimacy as she’d read many men in similar conditions did. He could withdraw and ignore her. He could be bedridden or leave her a widow.
God help them.
* * * *
The next morning, Demi awoke curled up beside Alex, snuggled into his warmth. Her hand lay proprietarily on his bare chest, and her head lay in the nook of his arm. She cuddled closer, wishing they didn’t have to get ready for work, that they could cuddle all day.
She groaned. Today was her monthly luncheon with her friends from her prior job. Although most of them had left their prior employer for greener pastures, they had remained close. Still, most had gone on to much bigger, better jobs, and they all had husbands who were hot studs in the bedroom. They loved to talk about their sex life and expounded on their lovers’ virtues. She had the lengths and girths of their cocks memorised, she’d heard them so often.
Demi couldn’t be disloyal to Alex by telling the truth about their love life. As much as she needed a sympathetic ear, the last thing she wanted to do was embarrass him. Yet she hated to lie. So she stayed mum and listened, completely jealous of her friends’ active, complete sex lives.
Veronica, whose name tasted like strawberries on her tongue, flipped her long mane of white-blonde hair over her shoulder and gave a broad wink to the young waiter, who looked to be no older than a college kid, when he slid her roasted vegetarian plate onto the table in front of her.
“Simon can’t get enough of me. I had to beg him to untie me from the bed so I could meet with you.” She gazed pointedly at her watch. “I had to promise to rush back and fuck him the rest of the day.”
Indigestion rose in Demi’s chest, and it was all she could do not to gag or twist her lips. Simon not only was a jerk of the first magnitude, but his name tasted like sour lemons on her tongue. Funny, as he was handsome enough to be a romance novel cover model and was senior partner of a thriving accounting firm.
Cassandra spit the wine she was sipping into Lisa’s face. “I can’t believe you practically screamed that in a public place.”
Demi could. Veronica loved to shock people and it usually amused her. However, this time she felt sorry for the young waiter whose cheeks flamed cherry red. She mouthed to the young man, “I’m sorry.”
Veronica saw her and scowled. “Don’t apologise for me. I’ve got a hot stud and I’m not afraid to use him.”
Demi almost blurted out, “Get all you can while you can.
It won’t last forever,” but she bit hard on her lip and dug her toes into her sandals.
Lisa dabbed at her face with the linen napkin and glared at Veronica.
Demi lifted her wine glass to her friends in toast, hoping to deflate some of the hostility. “Bon Appétit! May our lunch taste as good as it looks. And to us, friends forever.”
As if Demi had stayed silent, Lisa stabbed her fork into her Chef salad and speared a forkful of lettuce, turkey and cheese as if she really wanted to stick it into Veronica’s heart.
“You’re not the only one who has a hot hubby. Reid and I just booked a two week vacation to a tropical island off the coast of Jamaica, and we’re not going to pack any clothes. You don’t have to be so crass in public.”
Cassandra bobbed her head as she cut the broiled fish on her plate into small pieces, then pushed it around aimlessly. “Henry and I have been going to a BDSM club. Who would have thought I’d be a dom and a pro with a whip?”
Demi’s jaw dropped.
Cassandra whose name tasted like blueberry pie? Cassandra who’d been a virgin when she’d married Henry? Cassandra who was a kindergarten teacher?
Not that it surprised her that Henry would be a submissive. Not only did he look like a pretty boy with his slight build and effeminate gestures, but his name tasted like limp lettuce spoiling in the fridge. She could never kiss a Henry much less let one fuck her, any more than she’d let a Simon get close to her. She didn’t even like being around them, no matter how handsome, how intriguing. Their taste made her sick to her stomach.
Even Veronica gasped and her eyes bulged. “You’re putting us on. You with a whip?”
Deviltry flashed in Cassandra’s eyes. “Oh, I’m very good with a whip. And chains. And I’m so hot in leather.”
Lisa leant forward and wiggled her brows. “Reid and I are taking our lover with us to our love nest. His name is Logan.”
Lisa’s name tasted like cotton candy on Demi’s tongue, but she surely didn’t remind her of the childlike sweet anymore. Although Demi knew Lisa had drooled over every man at their last job including their very married, very average boss and was a walking hormone, she was still shocked. She couldn’t bite her tongue fast enough to stop her words, “So Reid is gay! I knew it.”
Lisa’s lashes fluttered and she shook her head. “He’s bi, not gay. And I get to be fucked by two men, so I get the best end of the deal. Plus it’s so hot watching Henry and Logan get it on. I get so horny I just have to take both of them into me at once. You should try it. Once you’ve been fucked by two big, hot, juicy cocks at once, you’ll never want to go back to ordinary vanilla sex again. Trust me.”
At the sound of ‘cocks’ the flavour of milk chocolate and caramel burst into her mouth, and her pussy grew hot. It clenched and she so badly wanted to squirm on her chair and rub her pussy to ease the ache. Jealousy flooded her. Not only were her friends getting wild, hot sex, now Lisa was getting fucked by two men with huge, hot dicks. Demi couldn’t even get one.
Her thoughts caught fire, imagining two virile men fucking her, and she took a long swig of cool, dousing water. She had to get these visions out of her mind before she said or did something she regretted. But it was becoming a huge burden keeping her feelings from Alex, hiding something this important from her best friends, and she didn’t know how much longer she could live like this. Dry toast toys weren’t doing it for her. Not even Alex’s wonderful tongue and magical fingers.
Instead of going away, the visions got stronger, brighter. She’d need to throw the water in her face to put out the flames licking her pussy. Better yet, she needed to soak in a tub full of ice. Or maybe she needed to put herself into deep freeze until her husband was cured, to crush these wanton desires.
She wished Lisa and Cassandra had kept their big mouths shut. If she couldn’t stop this conversation, she’d have to leave. She wouldn’t be able to keep talking about this or she’d go insane. Forcing her mind onto less volatile if less interesting subjects, she increased the wattage of her smile and said, “The rudest customer at work yesterday was getting very personal with me, blaming me for her migraines. She said my voice was droning and grating on her ears and she demanded to speak to someone else—after she’d gone on and on for half an hour and made me miss an important doctor’s appointment. I wanted to reach through the phone and throttle her. People can be so self-centred.”
Veronica arched her perfectly shaped brow. After she finished chewing a mouthful of squash, she jabbed her fork at Demi. “You, my friend, are a pushover. You should have given the phone to someone else in the first place and gone to your appointment. I wouldn’t coddle a customer that way. You have other capable people in your department, don’t you? If not, you’re the manager. Train them properly.”
Demi’s throat constricted as she remembered the incident. “But she insisted on speaking to the person in charge. Then after she made me miss my appointment, she wanted someone else.”
Cassandra shook her head. “Forget the crazy bitch. You’ve got to toughen up if you’re going to deal with the public. Besides, you have the best phone voice I’ve ever heard. You should be doing voiceovers, you know, like a voice actress.”