My name is John and this is a true story that took place during the summer of 1969, shortly after my 18th birthday. I would be a senior in the fall of 1969 at our local high school.
It was a typically hot and humid summer day in the south. Mother had recently purchased a window air conditioner which kept the kitchen, dining room and living room cool during the day. We kept the rest of the house shut off from the air conditioned space, leaving the bedroom windows open. Usually the bedrooms would cool off enough at night that we could sleep without sweating too much.
We lived in a ranch style house, like the hundreds of other houses in our subdivision. The one thing most had in common was a huge picture window in the living room that had become the rage during the 60's.
I was standing in the living room on this particular Saturday morning, watching Mr. Smith and his son Bruce, who lived directly across the street from our house, load their fishing gear like they did almost every Saturday during the summer. Bruce had been my friend for about ten years. The Smith boys would go up into the mountains, to a rough cabin they had built, and fish in the streams all day, eating fish that night. Usually they were back home by mid-afternoon on Sunday.
They had the car loaded and I watched as Mr. Smith went to the front door to kiss Mrs. Smith goodbye. It was still early on Saturday morning so I wasn't surprised to see that she still had a robe on.
'Ah, the quintessential American family' I thought.
Mr. Smith and Bruce drove away and I went to the kitchen to get a Coke from the refrigerator. I had a couple of magazines that I needed to "read" (we just get these magazines for the articles, right?) and put away before mother got home that evening from work.
As I was walking back through the living room, I glanced over at the Smith's house and noticed a shadowy male figure standing by the back corner of the house. That side of the house was still in the morning shadows so I stopped to see who it was.
I saw Mr. Fisher, who lived next door to the Smith's, open the side door to the garage and go inside.
I guess I owe you a little background on Mr. Fisher. He was the local pervert, peeping tom, who drank a lot and was constantly in trouble with the police. Once a lady in another part of the subdivision had seen someone peeping into her bedroom window one night. She yelled for her husband who promptly grabbed his shotgun and bolted out the front door in time to see a pickup truck pulling away in a hurry. He shot two rounds of buckshot at the truck but the driver got away. The next day, Mr. Fisher had two fresh bondo spots on the tailgate of his pickup truck, suspiciously in the shape of a typical grouping from buckshot. No one confronted him about it and as far as I know he never was arrested for it.
So when I saw him going into the garage of the Smith's house and knew that Mrs. Smith was still home, I became more than suspicious.
I grabbed the new Polaroid camera that I had gotten for my birthday and headed across the street. First thing I did was go to the side door of the garage and look inside. Honestly I thought I would catch Mr. Fisher in the act of stealing tools, get his picture and turn it over to Mr. Smith the next day when he got back home.
I saw no evidence of Mr. Fisher inside the garage. I was thinking that he had gotten away while I was getting my camera but my suspicious nature told me to investigate a little deeper.
I went around to the kitchen window and looked in. Just a couple of coffee cups on the kitchen table, probably from the Smith's breakfast that morning.
I stayed low to the ground and went down to the next window which was a small window in the main bathroom. Glancing inside I saw a bunch of Mrs. Smith lingerie hanging from the shower rod but nothing unusual.
The next window was the Smith's master bedroom. Bruce's room was right across the hall from theirs. I had seen it a million times over the last ten years.
I took a quick peek through the window.
'Ah ha!' I thought. I saw Mr. Fisher standing at Mrs. Smith dressing table, looking at some of her jewelry. I said to myself, 'I've got you now you son of a bitch' and looked down to make sure my camera was ready. My intention was to take a picture of Mr. Fisher and give it to Mr. Smith the next day to show what he'd been up to.
I was going to just raise up, take a quick picture and make a run for the house.
I raised up and... 'Oh my God!' I thought and almost said it out loud.
Mrs. Smith had just walked into the bedroom from her bathroom wearing a black bustier with garter straps and black stockings. I couldn't see if she was wearing shoes or not but boy, you could color me 'surprised' to say the least.
I was glued to that spot and to be honest, to this day I'm surprised that neither of them saw me standing there in the window, jaw dropped, just staring.
I finally recovered, took a quick picture and dropped down to my knees. Of course I didn't have a flash attached because that would be a dead give-away, so I wasn't sure how it would turn out with only the bedroom lighting.
I held the picture and if you remember the old Polaroid cameras, once you got the picture out you had to wait for it to dry before the picture would show up. I fanned it, blew on it and impatiently waited on it to develop.
'Finally!' The picture was coming into development enough to see.
I had captured Mr. Fisher with his hand on Mrs. Smith tit and his other hand around her back.
I had to have more!
I reset the camera and popped up long enough to take another picture. This one had Mr. Fisher standing between Mrs. Smith's legs as she sat on the side of the bed.
'Come on John, get at least one more,' I said to myself.
I took another. Mr. Fisher had taken his clothes off and Mrs. Smith was stroking his dick with one hand.
I checked my camera. I had three more pictures I could take.
I took the next three pictures over about a three minute period. All showed a progression in the sex act that was unfolding before me.
The last one was the prize! It showed Mr. Fisher on top of Mrs. Smith and it was obvious that his dick was buried deep inside her.
I took my pictures and ran back home.
Once inside, I sorted them by the progressive nature of the act. Six pictures were spread out on the coffee table, all damning evidence of infidelity.
What was I going to do with them? I could send one to Mrs. Fisher and she'd probably kill the son of a bitch and probably Mrs. Smith too. I could send one to Mr. Smith but that would ruin Bruce's life. No, I couldn't do that. All that would do is hurt an innocent person. Bruce was a good friend and I wanted to keep it that way. Ignorance is bliss...
As I watched the house across the street, I saw Mr. Fisher exit the side garage door and turn going behind the house toward his back yard.
'What a lousy turd' I thought.
Then it hit me! I could hurt Mr. Fisher without hurting Mr. Smith or Bruce.
I was hatching a plan as I took the first picture from the table and put it in my shirt pocket.
I headed across the street.
I pushed the doorbell at the Smith's house and heard footsteps inside.
I saw Mrs. Smith look out the front window and seeing me at the front door, quickly opened it.
She was still wearing the robe I'd seen her in earlier this morning. I noticed that she was still wearing her black stockings and had on high heel shoes. It looked like a strange combination but then I had inside knowledge that I was about to use.
"Good morning John, Bruce is gone with his father," she said. "He'll be back tomorrow afternoon."
"I know Mrs. Smith, I'm here to see you this time." Mrs. Smith had a puzzled look on her face as I stepped past her and went into the living room.
"I told you, Bruce isn't here," she said again, clearly not comprehending what I had said.
I sat down in a chair and said, "You'd better have a seat Mrs. Smith, we have a business proposition to discuss".
"Business?" she asked in a confused voice.
"Yes ma'am. Monkey business!" I took the picture out of my pocket and tossed it in her direction. She bent over and picked it up.
"What the fuck?" she stated as she looked at the picture.
"Exactly, what the fuck!" I replied.
"You little bastard" she screamed. "How dare you!"
"How dare you! Slut!"
My word hit home with her. She looked like she had just been shot. She backed up slowly and finding the sofa, she sat down heavily. Her robe came open at the bottom, exposing her stockings and bare skin above them but she didn't seem to notice. I noticed it and the fact that she was not wearing any panties too! Bonanza!
She was staring at the picture. Her mouth was open and I could see tears welling up in her eyes. She looked up at me and then back at the picture, twice.
Suddenly she looked up and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I'll just tear this up and then you've got nothing on me!" she shouted.
"Go ahead, tear it up. I've got several more. If you tear it up, Mr. Smith will get another one in the mail at his office by the middle of next week".
"What am I supposed to do with this?" she said, holding up the picture.
"Once you pay the fee, you can file it away. That's what usually happens to evidence".
"Fee? What fee?"
"You will do whatever I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it, without hesitation and without question. That's the non-negotiable fee that you will pay".
She just sat there looking at me.
"Are you going to pay the fee?"
I saw her swallow hard as she looked down at her lap and the picture clutched in her hands. "Yes".
"Smart girl" I said, "Now the first thing I want you to do is tell Mr. Fisher that it's over. He can no longer come over here and have sex with you. If Mr. Smith is not satisfying you, I will but no more Mr. Fisher. Agreed?"
I heard her faint, "Yes".
"I didn't hear that, what did you say?"
"Yes..., yes I'll tell Herby that it's over. Should have done that a long time ago..."
"Okay then, come over here and suck my dick until I tell you to stop."
Her head snapped up and she looked at me. I saw a combination of surprise and horror cross her face at the same time.
"You want what?" she asked in a semi-normal voice. "But you're Bruce's friend. Gerry, your mother is one of my best friends. How could you ask that of me?"
"I can ask it because you my dear Mrs. Smith, are the neighborhood slut. Now, I want you to suck my dick. Remember, do what I tell you to do, when I tell you, without hesitation or question" I told her. "Now move slut!"
She stood and crossed the room toward me.
"Take your robe off" I told her.
Hesitantly she complied. "Listen bitch, you were willing to suck and fuck Mr. Fisher, you can do the same for me!"
Now she was kneeling before me, her huge breast mounded inside the bustier, looked as though they were ready to burst out. Her breathing was shallow and quick. I leaned back, unbuckled my belt and unzipped my jeans. "Get it out and go to work" I commanded her.
She gently reached inside my underwear and pulled my engorged dick out.
"Don't stop sucking, no matter what, until I tell you to stop" I reminded her.
She started licking my dick and then she went down on it.
"Of my God" I breathed out as the head of my dick went deep into her throat. I'm not huge but I now had six and a half inches of pure lust deeply imbedded beyond anything I had experienced before. This bitch really knew how to suck a dick.
"You're a good cock sucker, Mrs. Smith!"
Up and down she went, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes teasing the head and at others, deepthroating me. It was pure heaven.
I sure didn't want it to end but I knew the end was coming up quickly. The slurping sounds she was making, combined with her moans were working on me as well.
"Don't you dare stop now bitch!" I stated between my gritted teeth. I saw her push all the way down on my dick as I exploded inside her mouth, sending spurt after spurt of semen down her throat. I wondered if she even tasted it that way.
My internal question was soon answered as I saw telltale evidence of semen on her lips. 'Yep, she tasted me!' I thought.
"Gently... gentle..." I coaxed her. "It's really tender right now. Just keep sucking on it until it gets hard again, then I'm going to fuck you."
"No..." she said as she pulled away from my dick.
"Suck it bitch!" I screamed at her, "Or pictures will get plastered all over town. That cushy job you have at the newspaper will be the first to receive them, then Mr. Smith and finally, I'll put one on the bulletin board at school for all the students to see".
"Please don't..." she pleaded.
"You'd better get back to work then" I told her, and she dutifully did just that.
I leaned back in the chair and just enjoyed the moment. I felt my dick getting hard again and I waited another few minutes so it would be fully erect.
"Okay my neighborhood slut! Let's move this show to the bedroom where I know you do a lot of your best work".
She got up and headed down the hall without saying a word. I followed close behind her, just in case she got the nerve to slam the door and lock it or some such.
"Where do you want me?" she asked as she walked up to their queen size bed.
"Bend over the bed and spread your feet" I told her. "I'm going to fuck your pussy and if you give me any hassle at all, I'll fuck that ass too".
"Oh no you won't" she stated defiantly, but I pushed her forward on the bed and with one hand on her neck, held her against the mattress.
"I will do whatever I damn well please, bitch. Now shut up and be the good cum receptacle I know you are".
I ran my finger through her pussy, which was sopping wet and smeared her fluids around her ass hole.
She was squirming and trying to kick at me.
"Stop it bitch or I'll do this so it hurts really badly!"
She stopped squirming. Evidently she had considered everything and resigned herself to the fact that she was going to get ass fucked and couldn't stop it.
I squeezed my dick a couple of times and got a pretty good size droplet of pre-cum fluid on the head which I smeared directly into her asshole.
"This will feel a lot better if you will just relax" I told her, "The more you resist, the more it will hurt".
I slapped her ass cheek hard, "Now relax!"
She stopped moving altogether and I saw her body sink down onto the bed.
I put the head of my dick against her asshole and pushed forward. It didn't penetrate easily but then I saw the head move in and the shaft quickly followed.
"Stop..., stop that hurts..., please stop" she pleaded.
I did hesitate as I waited a minute for her ass to adjust to the size of my dick and then pushed a little more, waited and then pushed a little more until I was all the way inside her. I slowly backed out until all that was left inside was the head and then slammed forward as hard as I could, burying my shaft to the hilt.
"Oh God!" she exclaimed, "Stop! Please stop! You'll rip it open."
I pulled back again as I heard her start whimpering.
I slammed forward hard again.
"Jesus... Help me!" she muttered without asking for me to stop anymore. I guess she figured it wouldn't do any good anyway.
I began pounding her asshole repeatedly. Whack, whack, whack... was the only sound now in the room other than our heavy breathing. My balls were slapping against her wet pussy as I plowed her asshole.
I glanced at the clock. I had been fucking her ass for ten minutes. My girlfriend from school could only take a few minutes of it before she started grabbing her clitoris and then climaxing a few minutes later. Mrs. Smith was just lying on the bed, resigned to being ass fucked. I could tell that she was determined not to enjoy it at all cost.
I reached around her and started massaging her clitoris for her. As soon as I started, I mean immediately, she started moaning like a sick cow and humping her ass back against me. I had her number now!
I rubbed, stroked and messaged her clitoris, alternating that with finger fucking her pussy.
"Oh..., oh..., oh..., oh..." was her constant mantra now. With every stroke in her ass, evoked an 'Oh..." statement. That is until she was ready to cum!
"Come on..., fuck me! Harder..., you prick! Fuck my..., mother..., fucking..., pussy..., you..., disgusting..., pig." Her speech was punctuated with every stroke of my dick in her ass.
"My you have a filthy mouth Mrs. Smith! I may have to wash it out with cum again."
"Oh fuck..., you..." She moaned. "Just..., hurry..., and..., fin..., ish..."
"I'll cum after you do" I told her in a calm voice.
It was as if someone had turned on a light switch. Her climax was on the way. She was bucking against me and as she buried her face in the bed comforter, I heard her muffled scream of ecstasy.
I wasn't through with her yet. As soon as she calmed down from her orgasm, I quickly pulled out of her ass and pushed directly into her pussy without hardly missing a beat.
"Noooo..." she cried. "You said you'd cum after I did!"
"And I will, just in your pussy instead of your ass".
I saw her head slump forward and down onto the bed. Obviously she figured she had to endure this too. Which she did!
I pumped her pussy violently, showing no mercy until I was ready to cum!
I pushed all the way in and exclaimed, "Ahhhh...!" as I splashed her vagina walls with semen.
My pace now slowed. I was spent. I had no more energy. I was holding onto her, really to keep from falling down but in essence, holding my dick inside her pussy for as long as I could. I managed to squirt out a few more little drops of sperm inside her before my dick just popped out.
I stepped back and observed her big butt gleaming with semen and sweat.
"Thank you Mrs. Smith" I said politely as I put my pants back on and stuffed my underwear into my pants pocket, "I'll see you next Saturday for another picture exchange. Be sure to wear what you're wearing now, only cleaned up of course and remember, if I see Mr. Fisher around here again, the pictures go out in the mail. Okay?"
Mrs. Smith was still bent over the bed with her face buried in the comforter. "Okay" I heard a muffled voice say.