Hitchhiking on Madison Avenue

“You’ve never truly lived until you sail in open waters,” Jennifer announced, uncoordinatedly swirling a drink in her hands as she pointed at the whitecaps spanning to the horizon from the wooden deck of her William Fife cutter.

Her guests, much like herself, were three sheets to the wind with their eyes sharing time between the gorgeous Malta coast and the pile of melting ice cubes, periodically floating in their Goombay Smashes.

“Reminds me of Bermuda!” Beth said into her drink, feeling the need to respond to Jennifer, even if her response didn’t contain anything pertinent to her host’s assertion on life.

“The Bahamas, dear. A Goombay Smash reminds you of the Bahamas,” her husband, Sal, corrected.

Beth shrugged and took another long sip. A small trail of the yellow cocktail leaked down the corner of her mouth to bead on her chin before being whipped away by the wind. She was wearing a spectacular bikini that hugged her slim body with a portion of the material completely lost between her round, tanned buttocks. It was a gorgeous illusion, the missing few inches of material, that always led the mind to wonder what else could be stuffed into that snug crevice. Her sheer robe, draped over her body, was a tiny bit of censorship that kept Jennifer’s intoxicated husband, Jeff, from constantly staring at her body. Instead of gawking, he only ventured a none-too-subtle glace every few moments and it was painfully obvious to Jennifer who watched the drunk girl with envy. Beth had turned twenty-four earlier that month and she had decided to make the entire month her birthday celebration.

“We could go for another dip. How ‘bout it?” Jeff suggested, hoping for another unrestricted view of Beth.

“No, I’m cold,” Jennifer declared, shutting down the possibility of swimming again, as well as the prospect of Beth disrobing.

Jennifer was a beauty in her own right, and, in many crowds she was the most attractive woman in the room. Except this wasn’t a mixed crowd, this was her cutter and the only other woman was Beth; who was twelve years her junior.

For Jeff, the looks of his fetching wife had long since lost their lustre. Nowadays, his eye would wander to anything with a pair of tits, especially if he was inebriated. Jeff had lived vicariously through his buddy Sal ever since he and Jennifer had gotten married over ten years ago. Jeff had yearned to stay a bachelor, but Jennifer was handily the most attractive woman he had ever dated who also checked every box the wife of a well-to-do man should possess.

“Sleep with a flower, marry a sugarcane!” Jeff’s uncle had told him during his years in prep school.

“What if I just want to keep sleeping with flowers, Uncle Jack?” the teenaged boy quipped.

“Then those flowers can line your pauper’s grave, m’boy,” the older man narrowed.

The words had stuck with Jeff and he made time to date within his own social group, which is where he met Beth. She was the pick of the lot; looks, brains, and family money. It was an easy choice for Jeff, and the two married when he was in his late twenties and Jennifer a year older than Beth was now. Still, Jeff would have loved to spend another decade or two tramping around with Sal and sleeping with feckless young models and Connecticut girls who moved to the City, after a stint at Wesleyan or Quinnipiac, looking to make the jump from expensive daughter to expensive wife.

Despite not having his childhood friend at his side, Sal had been living it up the last ten years, and doing a better job of it than Jeff ever could. Sal was a far more handsome and came from a much wealthier family; he could do whatever he pleased; and he, in fact did, right up until his recent marriage. Unbeknownst to Jeff, Sal’s cock had found its way into Jennifer’s hot little mouth the very week she had met Jeff. Both of them had chosen to keep this little secret from Jeff. Ironically, had a twenty-three year old Beth not given Sal a very spirited blowjob she never would have married Jeff. She had met Sal randomly, when stopping over at a party in the Hamptons. She was instantly vexed by his aloof demeanour and looks. She would have very much enjoyed fucking him properly, but a lady can’t give it all away at once, and opted to meet him in the outdoor shower of whoever’s home that was and suck his cock while crouching above the sand encrusted drain.

“Oh, he is hot! Did he get your number?” her friend begged.

“Yes, I traded it for a quick bee-jay,” Jennifer enticed.

“No! You little slut!” her friend laughed

“It’s always fun being a tad scandalous!” Jennifer had bragged to her friend as they left the party.

Jennifer hopped back in her car and drove on to the next party, still tasting Sal in her mouth. But that taste turned quite bitter as weeks passed and she never received his call. She made inquiries about him and found out that he happened to be at the Dartmouth Club and she dropped everything to confront him. Upon arrival, she had just missed him, but did manage to meet his best mate from prep school, Jeff. At first, Beth decided to date Sal’s friend to make him envious while exacting a measure of revenge. She was more than a little surprised when Sal pretended they had never met and seemed rather pleased that Jeff had found such a ‘swell gal to date’ as he put it. For Jennifer, her new beau, Jeff, was almost what she was looking for and decided to keep the relationship going until someone better came along, except, to her dismay, no one ever did.

Jennifer’s criteria for a husband was very unorthodox in most circles, however, quite banal in her own. Her future husband needed to have graduated from one of only a handful of Universities, have enough family money to sit on his ass all day, but chose to work out of a good Protestant work ethic, which, incidentally, was another dealbreaker; no Catholics, and certainly no one from even less savoury stock. Her future husband needed to have a casual look that would play well when they posed as a family for Christmas cards or holiday photos. Concerning sex, as long as he didn’t fancy bizarre acts, she would acquiesce to a handful of encounters each month, but no more, and he’d be free to pursue his own needs as long as he was discreet.

When it came to Beth’s own needs, she was certain they could be more than satisfied during her frequent hour-long ablutions in her magnificent Baldi Malachite bathtub, daydreaming about the Algerian born premier league footballer she met at the Jockey Club de Paris. She had casually told the young star her hotel details, where he later fucked her while his wife rang his mobile over and over.

Beth easily achieved orgasm after orgasm thinking about how she pressed the tips of her fingers against his flawless abs, coaching him to slow down and stretch her with elongated, deliberate strokes. Every muscle twitched in perfection under his hairy olive skin, but, most of all, she would think of his eyes, with their golden flecks, staring into her own.

“You haven’t lived until you’ve been fucked by a professional athlete,” she had boasted to her female companions on the flight home.  

A few weeks later, back at Radcliffe, Beth had found herself pregnant with his child. She toyed with the idea of keeping the scandalous baby but it was impossible. She could hardly show her face anywhere with an illegitimate child in tow; even if the child had a famous father. And of course no man of any significance would ever want her afterwards. As far as anyone would have ever known, Beth had been in Cambridge studying for midterms that week, and certainly not on a whirlwind getaway with her friends who decided to hop on the Concorde and see how well a Parisian man could make them squeal in a flowing white room at Le Royal Monceau after they had bought out half the boutiques on Champs-Élysées. A year later, the footballer was unceremoniously dropped by Olympique Lyon, and not picked up by a competing club.

“He was let go? Well… I beat them to it when I aborted his son!” she had cruelly joked with one of the girls who made the trip in which she confided.

Jennifer loved how men used to look at her. Most men still did but their stares lacked the desperate urgency they once had. That look of shock that a beautiful creature had just trapsed past them and she was getting away, never to be seen again; a rare opportunity forever lost.

Jennifer was, indeed, envious of Beth, just as her husband was envious of Sal, which, incidentally, wasn’t even his real name. His legal name was Elmer Salisbury Bruce the fourth. His great grandmother had been from the very prominent Mellon family, her father, Andrew Mellon, had been a banker of some note, then Secretary of the Treasury. The inherited name Elmer always soured in the young man’s mouth and he insisted on being called the truncated form of his middle name. Sal and Jeff had known each other since their misbehaved days at Groton. Their families had been friendly and they were both legacies at Hanover where they pledged SAE then later came back for their MBAs.

Sal had married Beth after less than a year of dating and the nuptials were a shock to everyone. Sal always exuded the air of a perpetual bachelor, with a new girl on his arm every time he came around.

“I don’t even bother learning their names!” Jennifer had replied to him when she had previously dismissed the latest floozy with a tight body, symmetrical face, and a childhood that took place when Jennifer was studying for the New York Bar examination.

What set Beth apart from the others was, not only her looks, which were exceptional, but her impeccable timing in the sense that Sal had just turned forty and the milestone was a reminder that, despite his wealth and privilege, he was mortal and destined to decline. After Sal’s return from his raucous fortieth birthday celebration in Cote D’Azur, Beth was the very next twenty-two year old Audrey Hepburn lookalike who cornered him at Please Don’t Tell inside of Crif Dogs. She immediately gravitated to the trim birthday boy, hiding a Nautilus under his cuff and standing in new Brunello Cucinella sneakers; doing an intentionally bad job pretending to be a hipster while being coy about his obvious immense wealth.

“Buy me a drink?” Beth had asked her future husband.

“Maybe later,” he replied, not even looking at her.

“I won’t be around later,” she snapped and turned away, only to have her arm grabbed by the aloof gentleman she had accosted.

“Correct, you won’t be around later… you’re leaving with me.”

That night he took the girl back to his soho pied-à-terre and fucked her, bent over, still standing in her heels. Beth simply hiked up her little cocktail dress and shimmied her thong down her narrow legs as a precursor to her inaugural coupling with her future husband.

“Don’t take it off! Keep it at your ankles!” Sal had commanded.

“Umm… ok!” Beth complied, and balanced herself with her thong stretched between her mid-priced fake Louboutin heels. She arched her back and elongated her body, holding tightly onto the custom quartz countertop, so the man she had just met could penetrate her from behind.

Sal had pulled out a nearby drawer in his kitchen quickly fishing for condom. Beth thought it to be quite strange the man kept condoms in his kitchen. She didn’t have long to think about it before a sheathed penis was pushed inside of her recently waxed pussy. He started slowly and gradually worked up to a faster pace with deeper thrusts.

“Uh! Uh! Uh!” Beth chanted at the zenith of each thrust. She was enjoying the sex very much.

Then, Sal did something she completely didn’t expect, he withdrew his cock from inside of the girl, then slid his thumb inside of her sopping pussy, apparently in an effort to lube his appendage. After which he pried his thumb into the girl’s asshole while returning his cock inside of her pussy.

“Ugh!” Beth grunted as she was double-penetrated.

“Mmmm,” Jeff snorted out of his nose while he increased his pace while holding his thumb deep inside of Beth’s ass.

Beth wasn’t opposed to having a digit inserted into her ass, but she would have liked to be asked first. Then, after pondering a moment, she would never allow someone who politely asked to do so.

Spontaneous or not at all! Beth surmised.

Still, she had gone out that evening looking for the rare type of guy who was not only physically attractive, but was of tremendous means; the hedge fund guys and their ilk. Beth truly enjoyed sex, and considered herself a bit of a kinky girl. She had partaken in a threesome with her roommate in college and had even slept with one of her professors who held the teenaged girl over his fifty year old knee and spanked her. Beth had found the spanking to be thrilling, even if the sex, afterwards, was lethargic on his part. Still, she was tired of having mildly interesting sexual encounters with attractive men in their tiny studios or getting excited for a bedroom romp with a gorgeous guy, only to find out they needed to first taxi to someplace in New Jersey. Beth wanted to be the proper girlfriend of someone who thought a million dollars wasn’t much money. To her, men fell into four categories: Hot or Not and Rich or Broke. She had recently let several hot, but broke, men fuck her. She had even let a few unattractive rich men enjoy the grip of her pussy. Sal was a hottie with a bankroll, so he got to stick his thumb up her ass, Beth decided.

“Yes! Yes! Ugh!” Sal moaned behind her.

He must be getting close. Beth figured as she worked hard to hold an ideal position.   

Then, Sal withdrew his cock, whipped off the condom with his left hand, and then pulled his thumb ninety percent out of Beth’s ass. He left the very tip of his thumb inside and painfully stretched the girl’s sphincter open.

“Ohh!” Beth winced at the unpleasant and unexpected sensation.

Then, holding his shaft carefully, Sal angled the tip to her open asshole.

“Ahhhggg!” he grunted.

Beth felt a hot rope of semen burst into her exposed anal cavity.

“Ahhh!” she shrieked. The semen was boiling hot and completely shocked the girl.

“Ah! Ah! Grrr!” Sal continued, maintaining his careful aim, the tip of his cock pressed into the panicked girl’s asshole.

“Ohhh!” Beth whimpered as she felt the man pump every drop of his semen inside of her colon.

Sal pressed the tip further into her expanded sphincter, ensuring his deposit was complete, then removed his painful finger and stepped back to the couch and collapsed.

Humiliated, Beth slowly turned around and watched him retreat to his sofa. She was feeling somewhere between shocked and furious. The sex hadn’t been entirely awful. Right up until the thumb, she was enjoying quite a bit of pleasure and might have even orgasmed, if it had continued. She reached to her ankles and pulled up her thong then fixed her cocktail dress. Meanwhile, Sal was sprawled and staring at the lofty ceiling.

“Sal?” she asked, trying to determine if he was even aware she was still in the room.

“Come here,” he replied in a calm voice.

“I’m going to run to the ladies real quick first,” she responded, with more than a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“No, please. Come here for a minute first,” he begged, rather sweetly.

“Ummm… fine,” she agreed and made another adjustment to her thong and walked her heels to the couch and sat next to him.

In one swift motion, Sal picked her up from the cushion and dropped her on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her back and held her tightly.

Umm… ok, now what do I do? Beth thought. Then, to her utter surprise, she heard Sal begin weeping softly.

Is… is he crying? She wondered, baffled.

His face was pressed into her breasts and she could feel the wet tears.

Oh my God, he is crying! Maybe he feels badly for hurting me just now? She doubted.

“It’s ok. It’s ok, Sal,” she cooed while tracing her fingers through his hair.

He held her like that for several minutes, quietly weeping. During that time, she looked around the apartment and realized he probably didn’t live there; at least not full time. There was nothing really personal about the place. It was almost like a giant hotel room with many adjoining rooms attached.  

“Ok… that’s enough… I’m done… you can go to the bathroom now if you like,” Sal responded, very sweetly.

“Ok, honey,” Beth replied to the red faced man with tears on his cheeks.

She walked down the hallway and saw that the apartment had at least three bedrooms. She picked a bathroom in one of the bedrooms for privacy. She sat on the toilet and peed before using a wad of toilet paper and her finger to push into her ass. She had been clenching ever since Sal had demanded she pause her trip to the restroom. Beth had been terrified that her ass would erupt with semen and stain one of her favourite dresses. After cleaning herself, inside and out, Beth washed her hands and looked in the mirror. She noticed that her eye liner had run a little. Apparently while Sal was crying, she, instinctively, had also become a little teary eyes. She spent a moment adjusting her make-up with various tools from her purse then returned to the room she had left the weeping man who had recently anally inseminated her. She didn’t know what to expect next. During the short ride there, it was her plan to be spectacular in bed and have this man fall in love with her. Now, it seemed she was completely over her head and out of her element.

Should I assume that I’m staying? Is he going to ask me to leave? I may be happier just leaving and chalking this night up to another weird adventure with rich and strange men… Beth laughed to herself.

When she returned to the living room, Sal was in the kitchen and was apparently frying up something that smelled divine in a gorgeous wok built into the countertop.

“I’m feeling hungry, would you like something to eat?”

“Ummm… yes I would!” Beth replied, very happy to see Sal was continuing to act kindly towards her and no longer the weird man who had pried her asshole open to be a receptacle for his sperm.

“Hope you like stir-fry… I got a porterhouse to go when I ate at MarkJoseph yesterday, so I’m just going to slice it up and fry it with a little oil and some frozen veggies.  

“Sounds great!” Beth agreed. “So, Sal… is this your place? It kinda looks like it’s nobodys…”

“Yeah, this is my place in soho… I live up by the Park… this is a pied-à-terre for when I’m down here… mostly for work… and when I bought the place I made them leave the staging furniture so I wouldn’t have to bother,” he explained.

“What’s a pied… umm…” Beth stumbled.

“Pied-à-terre… like a small place I keep for occasional use.”

Beth had already counted three bedrooms and at least as many baths in the place Sal described as ‘small’. She had a one bedroom she shared where her friend Jacklyn who used the living room as her bedroom. That night, Sal held her tightly as they slept in the largest of the bedrooms. The following morning, they showered together and then made love in the same bed they had slept in. The entire time they had sex, Beth had expected Sal to penetrate her anally but it never happened. He finished inside of the condom, deep inside of her, then kissed her lovingly.

They began seeing each other fairly often and Beth loved the circles he ran in. It seemed that, even though Sal and her both lived in the City, his city was an entirely different place; a room she didn’t know existed nor had the key to unlock. It wasn’t until the next time that Sal was drunk that he used his thumb again as a lever to deposit his cum. And, just like the first time, Beth made herself as comfortable as possible while he inseminated her bowels.

Their wedding almost didn’t happen as Beth objected to signing a prenuptial agreement and thought she could cry until Sal caved but it seemed his family would rather see Sal a bachelor for life before he married without a legal document defining the terms of a possible future divorce.

“He said if I don’t sign, the wedding is off… so, I cried and cried and stopped having sex with him… then I think he started cheating on me… like… a lot… so I signed it,” Beth had told Jacklyn.

“Are you at least in the will?” Jacklyn asked.

“I don’t even know! The lawyer my dad hired explained it to me so many times and I still don’t understand it’s so complex… if we don’t have kids, then I get almost nothing. If I have a boy then I start to get something… girls, not so much,” she explained.

“How do you get the most? Can you get it all?”

“I can never get it all, but it’s weird… Sal has nothing… everything is in trusts and limited liability corporations. Our houses are all in LLCs… but, if I have at least two boys and at least one of them graduates from Dartmouth before Sal dies, then I get fifty percent ownership of the LLC that controls the Hampton’s house and the apartment on East eighty-sixth… you know, Sal’s stuff, not his families. I will never own his family stuff… like the house on Meadow Lane in the Hamptons… that place is worth like forty or fifty mil…”

“So, for the properties Sal owns… you can only get half of it?”

“Yeah, if he dies after we’ve had kids, the other half is owned by either the first son or whichever son graduates from Dartmouth, I forget. But his Hampton’s place is worth, like, five or six million. And the apartment is worth like… fifteen! So, half is no less than ten million…” Beth explained.

“What about the cash or stocks… or… I don’t know!” the Jacklyn giggled.

“Goes to the kids if we have them. If we don’t have kids, then his family trust gets almost all of it. The whole thing is designed to keep an outsider from grabbing it all. The lawyer said the best case scenario is Sal lives a long time and I just get to enjoy it. The minute he dies, I will have a huge downgrade. If I leave him… or if I cheat and he leaves me… or if there are no sons… then I get next to nothing.”

“How can you get next to nothing! You married him! He’s your husband!”

“I’m on this vesting schedule… if I divorced him a month after the wedding, I’m entitled to get my panties out of the dresser and that’s about it. I don’t vest until, like, ten years. So, let’s say there are no kids, and Sal up and dies… I get my panties and, like, some percentage of fifty grand per year. After ten years, I get the full fifty grand per year.”

“Mailmen make more than that!” Jacklyn winced.

“Yeah,” Beth lamented.

“And the lawyer said they can easily fuck me out of the cash by claiming Sal was broke when he died… or at least tie it up in the courts.”


“It’s all bullshit… and I tried… when I said I won’t marry him, he said ‘Fine’.”

“That’s awful, sweetie!” Jacklyn commiserated.

“I even told the lawyer, right in front of his mother, that he forces me to have anal sex when he’s drunk… just trying to negotiate!”
“Oh? What did she say?”

“She said, now get this, ‘Plenty of people do a lot more for a lot less, dear.’”

“Oh my God!” Jacklyn burst out, laughing.

“Yeah, I wonder what she had to do?” Beth wondered aloud.

“So he still does that in bed?” Jacklyn asked, wanting to hear the salaciousness.

“Oh my God, yes! I thought he’d stop when we got engaged, but no… now it’s whenever he’s had as much as a few glasses of wine.”

“The first time you told me about it… I don’t know… I was… both shocked and interested…,” her friend admitted.

“If you want a thumb up your ass, I’m certain you’ll be able to find a guy willing,” Beth joked.

“Beth, I want a thumb up my ass on the upper east side or in South Hampton. The thumbs in North Bergen just don’t cut it, honey!”

They both laughed. The truth was, Jacklyn was very single and available. At the wedding reception, she had slept with one of Sal’s wealthy friends, hoping to get the same free ride Beth was getting. The following morning the guy put on his clothes and left without even asking for her number. Saying Jacklyn was envious was an understatement.

Back on the boat, the unlikely foursome continued floating off the coast of Malta, drunk and holding grudges.

“I’m gunna hit the head,” Jeff announced, hiccupping, then stumbled below deck.

“The head?” Beth inquired.

“Yes, he’s off to suck a cock,” Jennifer replied.

Beth made an annoyed, quizzical face at the older woman who had been staring daggers since climbed aboard.

“Nautical speak for the bathroom, dear,” Sal corrected. “And I think I’m overdue for the same trip,” as he walked to bow of the boat and began urinating off the edge.

For the first time ever, Beth found herself alone with Jennifer. The two women had no pretext to smile with false pretences at each other. This was a moment where Beth refused to back down to the woman who had never given her a kind look.

“How is married life, dear?” Jennifer inquired.

“Lovely. Better than I had ever dreamed,” Beth replied, overemphatically.

“Well, I’m certain it is… I’d imagine Sal consummated his marriage with you before the ceremony had even ended… you are so attractive, my dear. Then again, Sal was always quick to make a move.”

“Oh? I didn’t know Sal was the subject of such gossip?”

“It’s not gossip if you were present, dear,” Jennifer snarled while smiling.

“Are you implying you slept with my husband?” Beth asked, feigning naivety.

“Oh, he never told you? Well, I wouldn’t be too worried, dear. It happened before he met you, of course.”

“And… the sex… was it good? Did you enjoy fucking Sal?” Beth pressed.

“He was a much younger man so I’m guessing he might have been a bit more lively than he is now… now that he’s forty…”

“I don’t know how he used to be… but he’s quite lively,” Beth insisted.

“I’m certain he is, dear,” Jennifer said, flatly.

She has never slept with Sal. Or if she did, it was well before he developed his fetish. Beth thought.

“Is Jeff coming back up?” Beth inquired.

“He’s done for the night… unconscious. That’s his signature move,” Jennifer answered, sipping her drink, making a dismissive gesture.

“Well, that doesn’t mean we can’t keep the party going. You never know… maybe Sal can prove to you he still is just as lively as he was… when did you have him? Was it back when you were young?” Beth taunted, coyly.

“Have me do what?” Sal asked, returning with his fly still unzipped.

“Oh, nothing, Sal… you’ve seemed to have forgotten to zip up!” Jennifer covered.

“Maybe you shouldn’t zip up, honey… considering how poor Jeff couldn’t continue… I think you should take over his role as host and I do believe the hostess needs to be attended to…”

Sal looked at Beth and then at Jennifer. Beth was swirling her finger in her drink and then popping it in her mouth to lick the sugary booze. Jennifer, despite being equally drunk, looked a fair bit embarrassed.

“Such a joker!” Sal laughed at Beth.

“It’s not that crazy of an idea!” Jennifer piped up. She wasn’t going to let Beth queen bee her.

“Don’t be silly, Jenn,” Sal dismissed.

“You’re always being too sensible,” Beth teased, then she walked over to him and unzipped his fly, a symbolic gesture of her consent.

Sal looked at his buddy’s wife with a crooked eye, then looked at his own wife. Beth had left her delicate fingers attached to the metal bit of his zipper, grazing his, now, hardening cock. Jennifer stood up, purposefully while looking directly into Sal’s eyes with brazen desire.  

“We can see how this goes…” Sal shrugged, being drunk enough to see what happens next.

The threesome carefully went below deck and saw Jeff, snoring on the couches in the main cabin. Sal led the way into the master suite and pulled off his shirt. He was still as trim as he was a decade earlier and Jennifer became excited.

Sal was always such a better match for me than Jeff… And this trollop is getting tossed on her ear the minute she gains a pound or shows a wrinkle… I can get Sal. I can do this… we’ll both get divorces and finally be together! Jennifer thought.

Jennifer unhooked her bikini and was instantly naked. She walked up to Sal and tugged down his board shorts. Kneeling, she began noisily sucking on his cock. Beth crept up beside her and attempted to assist in performing fellatio, but Jennifer boxed her out with her elbows.

This is mine! Jennifer thought.

Sal was watching both girls, understanding something more was going on but not truly caring. Sal never actually cared about anything. It didn’t concern him that his lifelong friend’s wife was sucking his cock. The fact that his own wife had given him permission, and was, in fact, participating, was a bit of fun. He was going to do exactly what he wanted because all of the world to Sal was a giant slice of cake and he had every right to drag his thumb across it and lick the frosting, even if the ascetics of the pastry were ruined.  

Feeling ready to advance the sex, Sal grabbed up Jennifer and positioned her holding the mahogany chest of drawers in the room. Then, holding his well slobbered prick, forced himself inside Jennifer’s pussy.

“Ohhh!” Jennifer moaned after being penetrated.

Sal used his feet to push Jennifer’s apart, widening her stance in order to keep her hips low. She arched her back as best she could to ensure Sal wouldn’t need to angle his body to properly fuck her. Beth had long since dropped her robe and stripped off her bikini. She stood alongside Sal, a hand on his lower back, as he pounded Jennifer. As he thrusted, Beth reached for Sal’s hand which was clamped on Jennifer’s hip. She pulled the appendage behind her and, holding the base of her husband’s thumb, and forced his digit into her vagina from behind.

Sal, cluing into what his wife was doing jammed his thumb up further, stirring his wife’s loins.

“Ah!” Beth moaned, catching the attention of Jennifer who greedily wanted Sal to give her all of his.

“Yes, Sal! Yes!” Jennifer screamed, not caring if she woke her intoxicated husband, sprawled not far away.

“Yes, Sal,” Beth repeated, in a calm, soothing voice to her husband.

In a single motion, Sal pulled his thumb out of his wife’s sopping pussy and forced it in Jennifer’s exposed asshole.

“UGH!” Jennifer grunted, painfully as sphincter gripped the moistened digit.

“Mmmmm! Mmmmm!” Sal breathed out his nose, focused on his task.

Beth moved closer to the dresser and whispered into Beth’s ear.

“Is this as good as you remember it, dear?” she hissed in Jennifer’s ear.

“Uh… uh…,” Jennifer whimpered as Sal pounded faster.

Beth saw the urgency in her husband’s eyes and returned to her place next to him. She placed her hand on the quivering ass cheeks of her host and spread them just as Sal was starting to retract his thumb.

“I’ve got this, babe,” Beth whispered to her drunken husband who acknowledged her with wild, frenzied eyes.

As Sal pulled out his thumb, Beth quickly replaced it with her two index fingers allowing her husband to focus on angling the head of his cock with both hand.

“Ahhh!” Beth screamed, feeling that the young Beth now had two fingers stuffed in her asshole, and spreading the tiny round muscle, holding it open wide. Then she felt the head of Sal’s cock breach her sphincter and immediately begin pumping semen into her ass.

“MNNNNN!! YESSSS!!” Sal grunted while he came.

“Uhhhh-ha-uh!” Jennifer whimpered, feeling the scalding fluid being shot deep inside of her.

“Yes, baby. Yes,” Beth soothed, encouraging her husband complete his task.

Sal withdrew the tip of his cock from inside Jennifer’s ass and Beth followed suit, retracting her two fingers. Jennifer collapsed on the floor, filled with semen and humiliation.

What just happened! Did Beth just help Sal fuck me up the ass?!?! Jennifer screamed in her head.

Without even acknowledging Jennifer, crouched in the fetal position, Sal wandered off towards the guest quarters. Beth remained in the room looking at the woman.

“Beth, I need you. Come here!” Sal called from the other room.

“We really did have such a lovely time on your yacht, dear,” Beth congratulated the shivering woman and then walked out of the room, still naked, to comfort her husband during his post-coital sob.

The end.

If you enjoyed this story, you would probably enjoy the book by the same author below.

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