Jillian: Putting the Ass in Asset

Afternoon Delight

"Not only is she beautiful," Derek was saying, "but she also has a ravenous sexual appetite."

The screen flickered into life and Jill's face was smiling electronically at the room full of men. They all knew her from the wedding and various other gatherings at their host's home. And, of course, some knew her better than that.

There was no doubt that she was beautiful. Now the news about her sexuality added a fresh dimension to their appreciation of her.

"Was this at Summerdale?" Wesley spoke out.

"Yes. Three weeks ago," Derek answered.

The room fell silent attending to the sound of her voice on screen. Her giggly, mischievous laughter brought a smile to their faces. She was relaxed, secure in her privacy, and enjoying the intimacy of her encounter.

Summerdale was a perfect setting for a tryst. Remote enough that no one would be dropping by during the wo

rk week, but still close enough to drive out to for a few hours of illicit fun. Sheldon would hover in the brokerage, undistractible as long as the market was open, and Derek was tied up in court pursuing a lengthy civil case. Poor Margery would be at home with her bourbon, too sodden to drive and too morose to want to.

Jill was kneeling on the bed now. Her wide mouth was animated, pouting, clucking, inadvertently posing for the camera she didn't realize was there. Her discarded blouse was bunched on the bedspread. She looked wonderful in her bra. The deep cleavage that jiggled with her laughter gave way to a flat stomach and full flaring hips, still covered with her short summer skirt.

"That's no question to be asking a lady!" she scolded light-heartedly. "Those are things between a wife and her husband!"

"Tell me," a male voice insisted. "Has he ever fucked your bum?"

"Oh you are such a rude man!" she admonished through her laughter, moving up further on the bed on all fours.

"That's what you love about me isn't it?" he responded. "A rude tongue and a stiff prick?"

Jill eased down on one elbow and rolled onto her side. The soft white cones of her bra-covered breasts heaved with a contented sigh and she stretched her arms toward the voice. Her skirt had pulled up to reveal the full sweep of her lovely legs and she made no effort to tug it back into place.

"You are so bad," she smiled. "I don't know why I put up with you."

"I'll just bet you don't," he snickered.

The bed dipped with another person's weight and Derek's oldest son Peter came into the camera's view.

"My little brother's not enough cock for you. Or maybe you're just too much pussy for him."

Jill stretched languorously. She knew full well how men looked at her and she enjoyed it. From a very early age she had learned the advantages of being a woman and now it was second nature to her. She felt his eyes leave hers and travel down to take in all that she was showing.

"I guess you'll have to decide," she smiled coquettishly.

His hand pushed the hem of her skirt higher exposing the pink panties beneath. "Did he buy these for you?"

"Yes," she admitted, lowering her eyes. "In New York. For Valentines Day."

"Ah hah. A gift of love or lust. Did he want to fuck you in them? Or just look?"

"He wanted me to wear them," she confided, "... while we did it."

"Did what?" Peter demanded.

"While we fucked," she whispered demurely.

"That's more like it. There's nothing earthier than an unfaithful wife. Did he make you model them for him too?"

"Yes. He likes to look at me in my underwear."

"And you like men to look don't you?" he chuckled. "You're getting wet just thinking about it."

Her answer was barely more than a hiss. She had moved her arm up so that her face was covered by the crook of her elbow. Jillian had grown to know that men like women who succumb in spite of being embarrassed. The little flush that crept into her cheeks was the veneer of innocence that added greatly to her appeal. Peter liked to play with it; making her say the words that brought the pink to her cheeks; having her perform in a way that nice girls weren't supposed to.

"Get up on your knees," Peter demanded brusquely. "Show me what you've got."

He had made her do this before. She knew what was expected. The very first time they were together he had shocked her with his requests. Now she looked forward to the slutty feelings they brought on in her.

Jillian cupped her breasts and lifted them toward him. He liked to see them fondled by her own hands and made to quiver and dance when she shook them. She liked to see the flame they lit in his eyes when he watched her. The power of her sexuality turned them both on.

"You were made to be fucked," he sneered. "By anybody that wants you."

"Anybody?" she arched her brow mischievously.

"You've never said no to anyone have you?"

He was lost in the sight and scent of her. Each calculated move she made sucked him deeper into her allure. Her eyes never left his, reading and measuring the effect she was having on him; knowing that he found her irresistible in spite of himself.

"Did you want me to leave Sheldon's panties on?" she smiled. "Or shall I take them off?"

The mention of his brother's name upset Peter. His sister-in-law smiled up at him from the bed fully aware of what she was doing. Peter didn't have a loyal bone in his body but he hated to be reminded of it.

"No. Take them off." he ordered.

"You take them off." she smiled seductively. "They were a gift from my husband. Only a member of his family should remove them."

He grabbed at them and she rolled away with a giggle. From the far side of the huge bed she flashed her teasing smile and slipped her hand down the front of her underwear.

"Does Maureen enjoy sex?" she asked.

"Not like you, she doesn't," he retorted. "I have to coax it from her."

"Well what does she do? She must have to masturbate if you're not turning her on."

The remark was a deliberate goad at Peter's fragile ego. He felt challenged by her manner and disloyal discussing Maureen.

"We have a great sex life," he pronounced defensively, hoping there was finality in his tone.

"What does she do?"

It was the second time she had asked the same question. Peter could tell she was trifling with him but could not resist the bait.

"Everything. She does everything," he snapped back.

Jill was lying back on the bed in just her pink panties. The dark shadow of her pubes was clearly visible through the thin material. She kept her legs askew, occasionally fanning her thighs in and out, delighting in the fact that Peter couldn't avoid looking there.

"I've heard that women with small breasts are particularly sensitive," she smiled disarmingly. Her hands went to her own bosom and played there absent-mindedly while she waited for his answer.

Peter bristled at the question. He had no intention of letting her manipulate him that way and the reference to Maureen's flat chest stirred his protective instincts. But Jillian looked so damn delicious, almost naked and deliberately taunting him. There was no proper answer for her questions and only the telling of their most private things ever satisfied her. And this was about satisfaction. He wanted the woman on the bed before him; craved the wild abandon of her thrusting hips and the panting carnality of her; the unadulterated enjoyment of sex that his wife never seemed to achieve.

"Take your panties off," he commanded.

She stopped the to-and-fro movement of her legs and opened them wide pressing the soles of her feet together. Her hands slid down her torso slipping beneath the elastic waistband to caress her stomach. "Then tell me what she likes. I'd like to hear. Tell me some of her dirty secrets."

Peter reached out and grasped the fragile fabric of her panties. "Get these fucking things off before I rip them off."

"They were a gift from my husband," she reminded, "and your brother."

He drew his hand back and watched as she eased them down over her hips. The black profusion of her pubic hair looked incongruously beautiful against her creamy skin. Like everything else about her it was lush and abundant. Not like his wife's sparse covering which was as childish and underdeveloped as her breasts.

Jillian watched his eyes travel over her belly and thighs and she brazenly opened her legs to afford him the fullest view. It excited her to be looked at so intimately and she reveled in the lust that shone in his face.

"See anything you like?" she chortled when he didn't speak.

"Everything," he replied. "A perfect cunt."

"Why thank you. I'm glad you like it."

"No. I mean you. All of you. You're a perfect cunt. A body that won't quit and the willingness of a street whore."

"Do you think of me as a whore?" she asked.

"Yes. A beautiful horny woman. A whore in the bedroom."

She moaned in response and her fingers found the folds of her sex. He was only inches from her, watching her play and she enjoyed his attention.

"Dirty little girl," he whispered and leaned forward to rest his cheek on her upturned thigh. The warm scent of her was beguiling. The sound of her fingers flicking in her wetness enthralled him. Only once had Maureen ever let him watch her and that had ended with disgust and recriminations.

"A perfect cunt . . ." he smiled, kissing Jillian's hand and licking her coated fingers as they worked.

Her hand moved to the back of his head, moving him, positioning him for what she badly wanted. The smell of her sex filled his nostrils and the warm salty taste of her brushed his lips. His tongue traced the edges of her cleft, parting the soft folds and circling her clit.

"Ohh! Oohh!" she gasped. "Oh that feels sooo good!"

Her hips rose to meet his probing tongue and her palms pressed against his temples.

Waves of the purest pleasure radiated through her belly and she could hear her distant voice exhorting his effort. It was her very favorite thing no matter who was doing it to her. She wondered aloud if he did this to Maureen and then tried to picture them doing it. The thought brought on another orgasm and another until her chest hurt from holding her breath.

She was glad for a moment's respite while Peter crawled up between her legs.

His face was wet from her, and his hair was tousled. She reached down and stroked his penis, gently squeezing his balls with her other hand. He was hard and his cock felt hot. Not as large as her husband he was still a decent size. But men were so paranoid about things like that.

"Do you want me to fuck you with that?" Peter wheezed in her ear.

"No. Wait until you're hard," she whispered, knowing he was fully erect but playing to his insecurity.

He took her hand away then holding her crossed wrists in his one hand above her head he asked, "Does he make you come like that?"

"Yes. He does." She smothered her grin in his shoulder. "I always come a lot when he does it."

"You're a fucking machine," he whispered as his cock slipped into her. "You come no matter who it is."

***

The screen hissed and went blank. For a long moment no one spoke. Derek hit rewind and the tape whirled into reverse.

Derek was the first to break the silence and he looked around the room pleased with the reactions he saw. Sheldon seemed relaxed and comfortable, not troubled at all by the antics of his wife. After all, sex was a commodity and he was a trader.

"Well? Does anyone not agree that she's beautiful?"

There were chuckles and murmurs enough to convey their agreement.

"Would you still have married her if you'd known about her 'appetites'?" someone asked Sheldon.

"I married her because of them," he replied. "She's never once turned me down for any type of sex in the three years we've been married."

"Nor has she turned down anyone else," Derek gently chided his son. "In truth, she's exactly the kind of woman cherished by this order." he continued. "And there is no doubt she has a body. What a shame it would have been if she'd been made with that figure and no sex drive."

An ironic laughter percolated through the group. They thought of their own situations, spouses who occasionally did their 'wifely duty', or habitually picked and chose what they would or wouldn't do. Wives who avoided sex at home but had their little affairs on the side.

The joyous sound of Jillian cumming replayed vividly in their thoughts. The inexhaustible pulse of her hips and the gleeful way she spread her legs unabashedly offering herself for scrutiny.

"She seemed to enjoy flaunting herself," Andrew observed. "Have you seen that yourself Shel?"

"She does indeed. Always has."

"How does it happen usually?" Andrew pursued.

"She loves the attention. Everything she wears ... everything she says ... everything she does. A little peek here and a little flash there. She likes people to see her, and naked is better."

"By people, do you mean men and women?"

"Hell yes. She likes other women to get a look too. She likes to be admired, even lusted after but she also likes flaunting it to women if she thinks they are jealous of her looks."

"Has she ever been with a woman?"

Sheldon shrugged and said "Not that I have on tape. I'd love to see that myself. I wouldn't be surprised if there have been some encounters. But none that she's shared with me at this point."

"I'd love to see that thick bush shaved and Jillian getting some serious tongue from another woman," said Wesley.

"And her giving it back in turn," enthused another.

"Can you set that up?" Derek turned to Peter.

A shrug was all the answer needed. "When?" he wanted to know.

"As soon as possible, of course," Derek laughed.

***

All That Glitters ...

Jillian's mouth hung open in disbelief. Her car was gone. And with it her cell phone and purse containing the keys to Summerdale. She walked back through the trees and circled the big house trying every door and window hoping to find one unlocked. But, there was none. For a few minutes she sat on the screened-in porch pondering her next move then decided there was no choice but to walk out to the highway and try to flag down some assistance. Her high heels were too unstable to walk in on the gravel road so she carried them, along with her stockings, and picked her way carefully through the stones in bare feet.

The afternoon had turned out badly.. Peter, first called to ask her to meet him and then inexplicably didn't show up. She had waited almost two hours for him. And now the damn car! That would take some explaining. She contemplated telling the police that it was stolen from the mall in town. Better that than having it on record that she had been out at Summerdale. No need inciting anyone's speculation as to why. "Just a little not-so-innocent fucking, officer," she could say, and the thought brought a wry smile to her face.

Long shadows of the late afternoon striped the laneway reminding Jill to hurry. She could see the county road a couple of hundred yards ahead but, had not seen a single car go by. "Damn!"

The narrow pavement of the secondary highway was encroached at the edges by swirls of loose gravel and, in the absence of cars, Jillian made better time walking down the faded yellow stripe. For nearly a mile she'd trudged on before the hum of approaching tires caused her to move off to the side. The driver was a woman and she crunched to a stop in the loose gravel and listened incredulously while Jill described her plight.

"Well you're in luck," the pretty blond woman smiled. "I'm in real estate appraisals and I'm just going out to do an evaluation at Summerdale for the insurance renewal. I have a key and can let you back in now, then drive you back to town when I'm finished."

Jill couldn't believe her luck. The two chatted like comfortable old friends, glad of each other's company. Inside the house, Nancy took a cursory look around as if wondering where to start, then pointed to Jill's dusty feet and laughingly suggested "you might want to clean up a bit while I do my work."

Jill sat on the edge of the tub and turned on the taps. Her intention was to just wash the road grime off her feet but the comforting warm water felt so good she decided a quick bath was more in order. Carefully folding her clothes on the vanity she slipped languorously into the oversized tub and adjusted the flow to her liking.

The soothing liquid had scarcely covered her legs when the door swung wide and Nancy, seemingly oblivious to the concept of privacy, blatantly appraised Jillian's naked assets. There was open appreciation in her face as smiled down upon her and quite brazenly stared at Jill's lovely figure. "Don't mind me," she giggled. "This woman has to work you know!"

Jillian didn't mind her at all. As far back as high school, being seen without her clothes always gave her a special thrill. She enjoyed the communal showers after gym class and the covertly appraising glances she got from her classmates. Even their jealousy, so often etched in their faces, was a kick.

There was no doubt that Nancy was taking in all that was revealed and that caused Jillian to pose a little for her benefit. She stretched her arms high above her head and smiled at the other woman. "Oh! This bath feels wonderful!" she beamed.

"And you look pretty wonderful!" Nancy beamed back. "My husband would give a month's salary to see you in that bath."

Jillian lathered her breasts while Nancy watched. Slowly, she massaged the creamy soap down onto her belly and thighs making the black hair of her pubes seemed even blacker next to the white suds all around it. Nancy's eyes never once averted from her display and Jillian liked the covetous way the other woman looked at her.

"Do you ever masturbate in the bath?" Nancy asked matter-of-factly.

"All the time," Jillian smiled, pleased at the other woman's frankness.

Nancy knelt on the floor beside the tub. Picking up the washcloth from the water, she leisurely rinsed the foam off the brunette's stomach. Bemused by the other woman's attention, Jillian relaxed her thighs allowing Nancy to wash between her legs.

"I hate the taste of soap," she winked, maneuvering the cloth over the soft poutiness of Jill's mound.

The warm water and the salacious touch of her new friend filled Jillian with a sense of luxurious sensuality and she closed her eyes, content to lie back and enjoy Nancy's gentle ministrations. Even Nancy's finger pressing the rough terry wash cloth between her buttocks didn't give her pause.

Half an hour later, wrapped in towels she lay down on the master bed while Nancy rubbed her all over, drying, patting, and murmuring her admiration for Jill's beautiful curves. She found a bottle of lotion in the bathroom cabinet and then spent a long time on those special libidinous zones that women know so well.

"What were you really out here for?" Nancy whispered conspiratorially.

"To meet someone."

"Man or woman?"

"Man," Jill smiled conspiratorially.

Nancy leaned down and kissed the upturned thighs of her prey. Jill murmured her appreciation and lightly touched the back of the other woman's head, moving her closer.

"You're beautiful," Nancy crooned.

She knelt then between Jillian's legs and hastily removed her own clothing. Her breasts were a little smaller than Jill's, and nicely shaped. Her pubic hair was trimmed into a neat swath that ended above the swell of her labia. Below that she was smoothly shaved exposing nicely rounded lips to Jillian's gaze. The unfettered prominence of her hairless pudenda was a mesmerizing icon for Jillian and she found herself unable to look away from it.

Nancy, noting her fascination, moved her hips in a suggestive manner simulating fornication. She tucked a pillow under Jill's neck raising her head and moved up until she straddled the brunette's ribs.