Across the Duplex Driveway

"I...I want...it...just like with Levon and Mary. Everything," John sputtered.

"Our deal?"

"Just as you said. Over and done...after..."

"Shall I undress?"

"Please."

Joy's hand went to the buttons on her blouse.

"You know, John, you aren't a bad looking guy. Who knows...something like this might have happened, maybe, without blackmail...maybe. Maybe not."

One by one, the buttons gave way on Joy's shirt. John's heart began to pound and breathing became more difficult. In a brief moment, the shirt fell from Joy's shoulders and she tossed it aside. Underneath she wore a thin camisole. Obviously there was no bra underneath. Her hard nipples showed clearly under the filmy fabric.

"So far, so good?" questioned Joy.

"Yes."

"A man of few words...that's good."

A tug on the drawstring of her pants caused her waistband to sag. A deep inhalation sent the pants cascading to the floor. Joy kicked them aside and tried to smile without much success.

"My tits are too small, I think," mused Joy.

She lifted the camisole over her head. John audibly gasped. Joy's round mounds were perfect in shape. Each was tipped with a cone-shaped nipple that looked almost as if it had been pasted in place.

John tried to contradict her, but words would not emerge.

"Well, here goes the main event," said Joy.

Her black satin panties fell to her ankles and she kicked them across the room. Joy's sparse bush was prepared for summer sunbathing in a skimpy suit. Fat labia came together and completely hid her tender vagina.

"Everything?" said Joy.

"Yes," croaked John.

"Then forgotten?"

"Forever," whispered John.

Joy reached toward John and unbuckled his belt. His zipper quickly followed and in an instant, he was standing in his boxers.

"Somehow I knew the college professor would wear boxers," grinned Joy. "And, obviously, you like what you see." Joy looked directly at John bulging crotch and smiled.

"Lay down," Joy ordered.

She tugged John's boxers over his rock hard cock and shoved him back on the bed.

"As I recall, this came first..."

Joy lowered her face to John's crotch and took his cock into her hot mouth. John almost came at once, but the sheer unreality of the event prevented him from going over the top. He could believe his eyes...or the feeling on his cock. Joy Cooper, woman of his fantasies, was sucking his cock...HIS cock. From John's point of view, her lips seemed red and massive. Just before cumming in her mouth, John pulled her head away.

"I believe next came equal treatment for the females. I guess we can skip that part."

"No...I said everything!" urged John.

Joy lay back on the bed, spread her legs, and waited eyebrows raised. John moved quickly to his target, but stopped first to breathe in Joy's aroma. It was that same smell...the one on all her things...the one on her vibrator. It was intoxicating.

John spread her outer labia apart. Glistening underneath was her tiny clitoris beckoning to his tongue. John obliged quickly. He lolled her clit around with his tongue and lips. Joy responded against her own wishes. She didn't want to feel or enjoy. However, John continued until Joy was gasping for breath.

"Where is your vibrator?" asked John.

"What?"

"You heard me...in that drawer?"

"Well, yeah..."

John retrieved the little machine, set it in motion, and touched it to Joy's inner thigh.

"Wait...I get really...well...that's my little toy...that I use some, well, a lot. I have this thing...for...oh my...it...wait...I can't control..."

John inched the vibrator toward Joy's blood-engorged clitoris. Obviously Joy had wanted all this to be very impersonal and sterile. She wanted to hate the entire blackmail scene. But, her body betrayed her. The vibrator did its magic and Joy began to respond despite all her best-laid plans.

John wanted to torture Joy even more, but his cock now was about to explode. It needed a pussy in the worst way. He turned Joy over and pulled her hips up to his cock. Ass or pussy, he wondered. He moved the vibrator to one of Joy's nipples and then crammed his cock deep into her wet pussy.

My god, I am fucking Joy Cooper, he thought. I can't believe it.

Against her inner most wishes, Joy responded by having a thoroughly shattering orgasm. John felt her pussy spasm again and again around his cock. No man could withstand that feeling. In an instant, John pumped cum deep into Joy's pussy, spurt after spurt after spurt.

The two erstwhile lovers lay motionless for a long time. Then Joy made her way to the bathroom. Water roared through the pipes in the wall near the bed. John rubbed a finger load of juice off his cock and brought it to his nose.

Essence of Joy, he mused.

The water stopped abruptly, a door creaked, and naked Joy Cooper walked unashamedly back into the bedroom. She was about to tell John to fuck off when the back door slammed.

"Herr Doktor Watson! Mrs. Cooper!"

John's stomach rose to his mouth.

"Fuck," muttered Joy. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Irma appeared just outside the door in an all too familiar pose...hand over mouth, wide eyes, and shocked look.

Joy clutched at her nakedness and retreated to the bathroom. John covered his cock with his hands and helplessly looked up at Irma.

Irma winked. Chapter 6

Several days passed and John had heard nothing—nothing from Irma, as he had expected, nothing from Joy, nothing. Cars came and went in the driveway. Obviously Ray Cooper was back at home, but the children seemed to be confined to the inside of the Cooper duplex. Even Joy's morning runs had ceased.

John sat at his desk. He had relived making love to Joy over and over in his mind. Her soft lips, tight pussy, and amazing smell lingered in his mind. He almost could hit mental replay and see, taste, and sense Joy Cooper again and again. Each time his cock grew rock hard and the urge to masturbate came quickly. Most often he obliged.

John was about to find his cock within his pants when a familiar sound started on the other side of the wall—a rhythmic tapping of the headboard against the wall that grew louder and louder.

Jesus, the Murray's are at it again.

Soon the loud moans of a high pitched female voice began to drown out the pounding. The moans turned to yelps and the yelps to screams. With each exaltation, John's cock grew harder.

Without warning, John's phone rang causing near cardiac arrest for John. His heart was still pounding when he put the receiver to his ear.

"Look out in the driveway," a familiar foreign voice said.

John pushed back his drapery in time to see Joy Cooper and Mary Murray exit the Cooper's van and enter the Cooper's house.

Mary Murray! What the fuck? If she is there, then...who? John's mind went into another state of confusion.

"Turn on your computer and go to my Internet site...quickly."

The screaming in the next room had grown louder and the pounding was at a much faster tempo.

John typed in Irma's Internet address, and hit the streaming video button. The screen jiggled a bit and then cleared. A muscular man with bright red hair was fucking away in bed. His muscles gleamed with sweat and his buttocks exhibited deep dimples that drew a viewer's eye immediately.

The pounding on the wall matched the image on the screen stroke for stroke albeit slightly delayed. The female voice reached a crescendo and shifted into what was obviously a vigorous orgasm. It was then that John first noticed the woman who shared Max Murray's bed.

Her ass was pointed back at Max. It was round and bright white. Her head was pressed against the headboard, face hidden. And, a stomach distended with pregnancy hung underneath her body.

She was Julie.

John's heart sank. His mind went into instant overload. He needed to throw up badly, but could not seem to do so.

"Herr Watson?" said the voice. "Are you still there?"

Silence.

"John, I seem to be out of vodka again. Would you be a dear and get me some?"

The End.