Toilet Dreams

It was mid-morning, and I had to pee. I rounded the corner heading into the bathroom and saw Mrs. Solomon squatting next to the shower, picking a clump of hair out of the drain. She was wearing nothing but a little pair of white bikini panties with pink hearts on them. They cupped the cheeks of her perfect ass lovingly, and highlighted her deep tan. She was naked from the waist up. I stopped short, taking in the sight of her perfect body even as I was formulating an apology. Maybe she wouldn't see me!

Within an instant, though, I saw her head whip around at the sound of my heavy boots on the carpet, and she was looking at me from the corner of her eye. She stood quickly, her arms going protectively across her breasts as she spun around to face me.

"Oh, it's you, Brad," she said, obviously startled, but now acting as if my presence in her bathroom was perfectly normal.

"God, Mrs. Solomon," I exclaimed, "I didn't know you were in here. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sneak up on you." I tried not to stare at her gorgeous body, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. "I just had to use the toilet, and you said..."

Her eyes took in the sight of me as I babbled my apologies, and I saw her arms droop just a little from her breasts as she smiled at me. Her nipples were now almost in view. It was clear that I was a lot more embarrassed than she.

"Oh, that's okay, Brad," she said softly. "I told you you could use the bathroom anytime. It's my fault for not putting on any clothes. Besides," she added, "I'm sure it's not something you haven't seen before." With that, she lowered her arms, and I was gazing at a pair of the most beautiful breasts I had ever seen. They were full and firm, with deep tan lines defining their shape, and the nipples were a soft pink. Her chest went out proudly, and they swelled a bit more. "See?" she said. "They're just breasts." She moved a step closer to me.

"No, Mrs. Solomon," I said, suddenly longing to reach out and touch them. "Those aren't just breasts. Those are perfect breasts."

She laughed softly, and put her hands on her hips, posing just a little. She seemed so confident, this 25-ish young wife standing almost nude before a 52-year old stranger. "Why, thank you, Brad," she said. "It's nice to have someone admire them for a change. And you don't have to call me Mrs. Solomon." She took another step forward, putting herself within arm's reach, and said seductively, "Would you... want to touch them?"

Oh, god, would I? More than anything I wanted to wrap my rough hands around their fullness and gently squeeze them, tease the nipples with my thumbs, and drag my tongue across them. I held my position, though, unsure of just how far I could go. She was, after all, the wife of the owner of this house, and as such, one of my bosses. I was just a worker, hired to re-shingle the roof. She was half my age, and I also knew that her husband was around the house, somewhere.

She sensed my conflicting thoughts, and laughed again. "It's okay," she said, leaning around me to push the door closed. Her breasts rubbed against my chest as she did so, and I saw her nipples stiffen visibly as they scraped the rough denim of my shirt. "I don't mind. Really."

She leaned back now, her ass against the edge of the vanity, and put her hands on the countertop. I didn't need any more of an invitation than that. I reached for her shoulders, and pulled her into me, forcing my mouth onto hers. She spread her legs, and I stepped between them. We kissed passionately, our tongues intertwining with one another's, our teeth gnashing together. She thrust her hips forward, and her soft center made contact with my denim-clad hardness.

"Ooooh, yeah!" she growled, and began to hump against me. She rested her ass on the edge of the vanity top, and wrapped her legs around my hips. I still wore my tool belt, and she hooked her ankles over the pockets behind me, spilling nails onto the carpet as she dug her heels into my ass. "That feels so-oo-oo good," she grunted, as she rubbed herself violently against my hard-on.

I slammed my mouth down over hers again, trying to keep her quiet, and she groaned loudly. Her hands were now tearing at my shirt buttons, trying to rip it off me in her haste.

"Easy," I said, taking her hands in mine. "You want your husband to hear?" I leaned back, watching her closely. She looked like a tiger in heat. Her eyes were full of lust, and her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her little snatch, clad only in white cotton, still rubbed lewdly against me, and I saw the material was soaking wet already.

"I don't care," she stated flatly. "He's a wimp anyway. He couldn't please me if he tried, not like I know you can. I've been waiting for this. Now c'mon; are you gonna fuck me, or not?"

"Oh, yeah," I said, still holding her hands in mine. "I'm gonna tear you up. But first, I'm gonna taste that sweet little pussy of yours,"

I let her hands go, and she leaned back against the mirror, bracing herself with her elbows against the countertop. Bottles of nail polish and shampoo tumbled into the sink. She spread her legs widely, inviting me. I stepped back and began to undo the buttons of my work shirt, my eyes glued to that wet spot between her legs.

Her eyes were likewise glued to me, and she sported a wicked smile. As I pulled my shirt off, she said, "Leave the tool belt on." Okay, I thought. I can live with that!

I pulled my work boots off without undoing the laces, then the socks. Now I was unzipping my jeans, going slowly, and her eyes never left my crotch. She looked as hungry as a starving Ethiopian, and she actually licked her lips as she watched me!

I worked the material from under the canvas stitching of my tool belt, and pulled the jeans down over my hips, taking my briefs with them. My cock popped out, as stiff and straight as an iron rod.

"My god, baby," she panted, her hips doing the Saint Vidas dance on the vanity top as she bucked in anticipation. "Now, that's a cock," she said. I dropped my jeans around my ankles and stepped out of them.

She pulled her knees up. "Fuck, yeah!" she growled. "God, give it to me!" She slid her pelvis forward until she was almost off the countertop, and my cock head just tickled her cotton-clad pussy lips.

I could have leaned forward and speared straight through her flimsy panties, but I wanted to eat her first. I dropped to my knees, tearing at her bikinis, and dragged them down over her legs and feet. She placed a foot on each of my shoulders. I stuck out the tip of my tongue, aiming it at the center of her furry snatch, and my touch brought a loud sigh.

"Ahhhh, god," she breathed. I leaned in again, and swiped my tongue from the bottom of her crack to the clit, spreading her chubby pink lips with the tip of it, and she groaned again. "That's it," she urged. "Lick me up and down."

I didn't need any more urging, and I began to lap at her sopping pussy methodically. She begged me to lick her harder, but I continued my calculated teasing even as she attempted to force her cunt onto my face. Occasionally I would stop, and softly blow across the downy coat of pubic hair surrounding her treasure, driving her just a little madder with desire each time. More bottles crashed into the sink, and onto the floor beside me.

"Oh, GOD!" she finally shouted. "Fuck me, PLEASE!!!" I decided I had better do it, before Mr. Solomon came to investigate the noise.

I stood, and she dropped her legs, hanging them over the counter, her pussy right at the edge. She looked pleadingly at me, and I smiled as I leaned into her. My rigid bone burrowed into the hot wetness of her cunt, and her eyes closed as I split her lips wide.

"Ah, god!!!!!!!!! Oh my g...." Just then the door swung partway open, hitting me in the foot.

"Mandy?" came her husband's worried voice. "Are you all right?" He stuck his head partway through the opening, and was looking at me in the mirror. "What're you..."

"SHUT UP, RICHARD!!"

His face looked like he'd been slapped. Then he leaned further in, until he could see her face from the side. His voice was a squeak as he asked, "What's going on?"

She laid into him. "I'm getting fucked, that's what!" she yelled. "By a real man!" She grabbed the edge of the door and pulled it a little wider, again hitting my foot where I had repositioned it. "Step in here, dear, and watch what happens when a real man pleases me!"

She turned to me. "Don't stop, lover," she ordered. "Fuck me inside out, and let him watch. He won't do anything." Her pussy gripped me with renewed vigor, and I began to stroke in and out of it, pulling the lips inside out as I withdrew, folding them into themselves as I drove my throbbing fuckrod home. I stepped to one side as I fucked her, and sure enough, he began to sidle in the door. His eyes were glued to my cock, as it tormented her hungry cunt in a way I knew he never could.

"Let him in," she said, and pushed me away. I stepped back, and she climbed down from the vanity top, her pussy dripping with it's own juices. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

His eyes were already filling with tears. "Mandy," he said sadly. "Don't do this, I beg you. You don't have to do this." He took her face in his hands, and pulled her to him. They kissed, he sobbing softly all the while. He knew it was a lost cause. Then she pulled away.

"Yes I do," she said, and turned to me. She took my softening cock, still slick with her own juices, in her hand, and dropped to her knees. Then she guided it to her mouth. I started getting hard again.

"Look, Richard," she said after a couple of licks. "It's already bigger than yours." She then sucked half my length into her mouth, and I felt her tongue swabbing my shaft. I got really hard then, as hard as I've ever been.

She began to moan and gurgle as she sucked me, getting more and more turned on by my thickening girth. Soon her head was bobbing crazily back and forth, her mouth a suctioning machine. Her hands went to my ass, and I leaned back against the wall, enjoying the feelings.

I looked over at poor Richard, and he was still softly sobbing, but his eyes were alive with lust, and his hand rubbed at his own erection. He said again, "Mandy, please. Honey, please don't do this. You're just trying to get back at me."

She turned to look at him, my cock sliding from between her lips. Her eyes were crazy with lust.

"Mmmmm, this is some good cock. Richard," she said, "you should try sucking this cock. I'll bet you're better at that than you are at eating my pussy." Then she laughed, and continued her spirited fellating of me. He actually began to cry, then, and I couldn't help but berate him myself.

"Fucking jerk," I spat. "Can't you keep your own wife happy? Look at this mouth! I took his wife's lower jaw in my hand and turned her head so she was again facing him, my meat still embedded in her hungry maw. "This mouth was made to suck dick. And," I continued, "this little pussy was made to be stuffed full of fuck-meat!"

With that, I pulled her to her feet, spun her around by her waist, and pushed forward on her upper back. She obediently leaned over the toilet, supporting herself on the tank, and spread her legs for me. I kicked each foot out another six inches, so that her cunt was gapped wide open, and lined myself up to enter her.

"NO!!!" her husband screamed, but there was no stopping us now. I grasped her tiny waist and pulled back, sliding her onto my rigid cock. She began to moan loudly. I stroked in and out of her slowly, letting him get a good look at what I was doing to her pussy lips. It felt unbelievably erotic to be fucking his wife, my tool belt still around my waist, while he watched, unable or unwilling to do anything.

"Oh my god, Richard," she panted. "It's so deep inside me! Oh, god, I've never felt it like this before!"

"That's right, baby," I chorused in. "Deep and hard. Your pussy is sooooo tight, I might bust a nut right now!" I glanced over at him, and he was pulling his own dinky dick out of his pants, rubbing it excitedly as he watched mine disappear into his wife's depths. It was truly small, about 4 ½ inches long, and no bigger around than a roll of dimes. No wonder she had turned into such a slut!

She had turned to watch his reaction at my taking of her, and saw him with his weenie out. She burst out laughing, and now he looked at her with genuine shame in his eyes.

"What're you gonna do with that?" she asked derisively. I didn't want her chastising him anymore, so I began to fuck her harder. "Oh, YEAH," she yelled. "That's what I need. Fuck that pussy! Fuck me GOOD!"

I really laid into her now, rocking her head against the wall as I slammed into her, my quadriceps beating a tattoo against the backs of her legs. She gripped the toilet tank lid with her hands, rattling it against the tank and the wall as I punished her little love-hole. Nails spilled from the pockets of my tool belt, forming little piles around our feet. Then I felt her tighten around me.

"Oh-god-I'm-coming!!" she shouted. "Don't stop! Please, don't stop! Oh, Jesus! Oh my go....god....GGOOODDDD!!!!!"

Her legs began to shake, and her hips seemed to go berserk, shuddering wildly beneath me as she ascended into a full-blown orgasm. I buried my cock as deep into her spasming cunt as I could get, and her pussy milked me like a dairy farmer. Finally I couldn't hold back.

"AAAUUUURRRRGGGGHHH, GODDDDD!!" I yelled, and spit about half a pint of my goo into her in one mighty charge. The next couple of surges seemed to come from the base of my balls. I stroked deeply into her then, as I milked the rest into her slippery canal. She moaned steadily the whole time.

Finally I was drained. I pulled out of her with a liquid 'pop' and leaned against the wall behind me. I looked over at her husband, and he was holding his dick, pumping it furiously. I watched as it spurted a couple of shiny beads of his milky semen over the top of his fist. I decided it was time to go.

"Mrs. Solomon," I said, and she half-turned, still draped over the toilet tank. "I think I'd better leave." She moved to rise, shaking her head, and her husband spoke.

"It's Amanda," he said hoarsely. "And it's okay. I'm late for work." With that, he pulled his pants closed and let himself out. As he closed the door he said to her, "Home at five," as if nothing unusual had ever happened.

"Eight more hours," she smiled, looking at me with renewed lust.