Hello, everyone. If you are a fan of my series Breast Obsessed know that I am diligently working on Chapter 3, and hope to have it out soon. In the meantime, please enjoy this one-off story I came up with on the fly one day. Without further ado...
*****
"Last call, gents!" Announced the bartender. "Empty those mugs, anyone who needs a cab c'mon up to the bar to use the phone!"
Jack Fitzgerald took a deep breath and upended his mug. His adams apple bobbed as thirty-two ounces of frosty ice-cold Budweiser sloshed down his throat, joining the two hundred or so ounces that had preceeded it over the course of the last five hours. He was not in a particularly good mood. His fucking 49ers had fucking lost to the fucking Seahawks, and now the Suckchickens would be going to the Bowl instead of his team. Not only that, but it had cost him 200 bucks, too.
He had been pounding them ever since. Ever since he had slapped two benjamins into Art Lancaster's outstretched palm, wanting to cram the smug look on his face right down his throat. How long? Five? Maybe six hours ago? Seemed like forever now.
Jack's senses were swimming. He stood up from the barstool and slowly wove his way down the aisle towards the bar phone, which rested on the counter near the end. Jack may have been hammered, but he was no dummy. He was calling for a cab.
His fingers fumbled the number and after a few false starts he finally dialed it correctly, securing in a slurring mumble a ride back to his house. The driver said to wait in the bar, he would come to the door and ask for him.
Jack leaned heavily against the wall, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He sighed and ran his hand through his short brown hair, before reaching up to rub his tired hazel eyes. He scratched the stubble on his chin and yawned, wanting nothing more but to faceplant into his pillow for an hour or eight.
Finally the door opened and the driver stuck his head in.
"Jack?" he called. "I'm here for a Jack Fitzgerald?"
"Thasss me." Jack said, raising his hand and shuffling towards the exit. "Sheeee you guysss later. Get home shafely."
A light chorus of affirmatives in response from the dwindling crowd of his friends at the bar.
The driver opened Jack's door for him and he sank heavily into the soft rear seat. He leaned his head back and felt the idle thrum of the car settling into his bones.
"Where to?" The driver said.
"2931 Easht Shycamore Shtreet." He slurred. His head sank further into the upholstery and darkness claimed him.
*******************
"-up." A voice said from far away. "C'mon man, I've got other stops to make. Wake up!"
Jack opened his tired eyes and noticed the driver lightly shaking him. He glanced around bewildered, and realized they were parked at the curb in front of his own dark house. He slowly climbed from the vehicle, stretching and looking around, his breath frosting in the cool November night. He managed to maneuver his wallet out of his pocket and slipped a 20 into the guy's hand.
"Keep the shange." He said, clapping the guy once on the shoulder.
"Thanks, buddy." The driver replied, folding the bill and placing it in his right front pocket. "Have a good night, okay?"
Jack waved over his shoulder as he stumbled up the front walk. Suddenly he was overcome by the urge to piss, and he merely stopped and watered the rose bushes before continuing. He angled towards the garage and found the security keypad there. His alcohol-numbed brain finally coughed up the proper combination, and moments later he was kicking off his boots in the garage, and hanging his coat on the hook by the door.
Jack jabbed the garage door button on the wall and stumbled into the warm, welcoming interior of his house. His wife and daughter would be fast asleep by now, and he didn't want to wake them. Slowly, carefully he lurched through the house, heading for the stairs. His feet seemed about a million miles away when he looked down at them and he felt like he had a tumble dryer strapped to his head.
Jack mounted the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing as the room slowly spun around him. At the top would be the upstairs hallway. The room he shared with his wife Barbara was first on the left, with his eighteen-and-a-half year old daughter Hannah's room being the second on the left. A guest bedroom and bathroom were on the right side.
Jack reached the second to last stair and took the last step up to the landing. His foot neatly hooked on the top stair and he stumbled forwards, almost falling flat on his face as he lurched three steps and fell to one knee. He reaches up on the wall to his left and finds a knob. Regaining his feet he slowly twists it, opens the door, and enters.
His swimming senses take in the dim, murky interior. He can barely see and waits a moment for his eyes to adjust. There straight ahead is his bed, and in the dim light from the streetlight outside he sees Barbara splayed out on the bed.
Barbara is a beautiful woman. Gorgeous honey-blond hair that spills down her back, a tight, athletic frame sporting a tight stacked ass and a lovely pair of 34D tits. She works hard for her body, of which Jack is incredibly thankful. He is also thankful that their daughter Hannah inherited almost all of those charms, being just as beautiful as her mother, but also including some cute freckles on her face and upper chest.
He squints in the dim light and sees the golden halo of her hair splaying out around her head as she snoozes flat on her back. Amazingly, as he looks closer he sees that she is laying on top of the covers, and he can see that she is wearing not a stitch of clothing. Her soft bounteous breasts and smooth shaven cleft both are completely open to his view, such as it is with the room gently spinning on its axis and the dim light keeping him from making out every detail. And despite his inebriated state, he feels blood surge into his six inch cock, raising it up away from his body with a throbbing urgency.
Jack licks his lips and skins his pants and boxers down, feeling his cock jumping and twitching in front of him. He is suddenly incredibly horny, and decides that at least one thing in this shitty evening is going to go right.
He creeps over to the bed, and decides that he wants to just ravage her. She will wake up, yes. But he plans to be balls deep before she fully comes to.
Jack raises one leg and enters the bed, lifting one of Barbara's legs up and spreading it wide. She stirs lightly under him, mumbling under her breath. He moves her other leg out, and grabs his stiff shaft. Moistening his fingers he rubs them over her labia to prepare her, and then scootches up between her legs and finds her hole with his throbbing tool.
As Jack pushes his cock into his wife's cunt she stirs beneath him. She tries to speak.
"Wh-" She begins.
Jack claps his hand over Barbara's mouth and thrusts forward. His cock sinks to the hilt in her syrupy pussy, the warmth of her gently contracting walls making his toes curl.
Barbara makes muffled noises under his palm, grunting and thrashing. He leans in close to her ear.
"Shh Barb." He says, "It's just me, Jack. I'm sorry baby. I had a shitty night and when I came in and saw you I couldn't resist. Oh god baby, your cunt feels so slippery. Mmm here I go."
Jack begins to thrust. Almost immediately Barbara stops thrashing and she bucks her hips in response, rising from the bed to enthusiastically meet his plunging cock.
"Mmmmmm" She groans under his palm. "Mmmmm. Hmmmmmmmm"
"Oh god baby." Jack says, picking up the pace and hammering his dick into her creamy cunt. "Your pussy feels so fucking good. Oh god you've never been this wet before."
Jack really picks up the pace now, his cock goes balls deep on every stroke, the shaft coated with buttery secretions that flow unimpeded from her clenching sex hole. He reaches down and strums her clit with a practiced hand, knowing how easily she responds to it.
And respond she does. A panting mewling moan comes from her mouth, heavily muffled by his palm. Her head tosses gently and her hands and legs come up off the bed to encircle him. He nibbles her earlobe and neck as he continues to move within her.
"I love fucking you baby." He murmurs in her ear. "I love your soft, hot cunt."
She pants beneath his palm, really enjoying the dirty talk.
"Mmm baby. I think I'm going to cum!"
Jack picks up the pace, stabbing his engorged length into his wife's leaking slot. His ass pounds up and down at an ever-increasing tempo as Barbara begins moaning under his palm. She shakes and shudders, approaching orgasm herself.
"Oh yes baby!" He whispers in her ear. "I'm going to cum in your pussy!"
