textfiles/sex/EROTICA/B/bbreath.txt

Copyright <20> 1997,  Rich Humus,   ALL Rights Reserved

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author.  This story may be freely
distributed with this notice attached.  The author may be contacted
through mrdouble@airmail.net.




                             Bad Breath?
                              by Rich Humus

"Hi, honey, I'm home!"  (Yeah, just like in Ozzie and Harriet, I know.
But what else are you going to say?)  I looked up from my newspaper.
My lovely wife Suzanne shut the door behind her and walked in to the
living room towards me, dropping her purse, briefcase and coat on the
dining room table.

"Hey, babe, how'ya doing?" I answered, glad to see my wife again. I'd
just gotten home myself about 45 minutes earlier, and waited curiously
for my usually prompt wife to arrive just a few minutes after me. We
work in opposite parts of town, but have an almost identical commuting
time.

"Just fine and dandy, thank you kind sir." She leaned over to kiss me.
I took in her fine figure. She had on black pumps with two inch heels,
a tight skirt that rose just a few inches above her knees, a white
silk blouse and a matching jacket.  Our lips met and tongues
intertwined as I helped her take the jacket off and threw it to the
other end of the sofa. I ran my hands down over her waist and hips,
squeezing lovingly.

As she straightened back up, I thought I smelled a faintly familiar
odor from her kiss. Then it struck me.

"Suzy, have you been.....drinking?"

She blushed a furious shade of red.  "Well,....yes" she hesitated.
"Don asked me to stay late and help him and the others for a few
minutes. When we were done, they asked if I'd have a drink with them.
I didn't want to at first, but, you know, Don's my boss, and I would
really like to advance in my job. So I told them OK. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You know I don't mind it at all. How many of them were
there, all told?"

She pursed her lips and frowned. "Uummmm....seven. No, eight, I
forgot, Bill Morris showed up just as we were finishing, and of
course, we had to include him."

"Let me look at you."  I stood up and held her at arm's length. Her
blouse was spotless. I could just see the white lace demi-cup bra she
had on underneath of it. I don't know how she does it, but no matter
what kind of blouse Suzy wears, you can almost always see her bra (or
bare breasts, occasionally!) underneath of it. I think she purposely
wears darker underwear than most women normally would, just so it
shows through.  My eyes traveled down the length of her torso.  Her
skirt, wrinkled a bit after the days work, was also pristine. I kept
looking down.  Aha! Both knees looked a bit smudged. Also, one
stocking had a small runner in it.

"Ah ah ah!" I chuckled, pointing down at them. "10 demerits for dirty
knees, and 5 for the run."  Suzy blushed again. "Take off the skirt."
She twisted it around her waist and unclasped the top, and pulled the
zippper down, then let it fall and stepped out of it.  The white lace
garter belt contrasted nicely with her lovely smooth tanned skin. I
don't let her wear pantyhose. An abomination.  "Now the blouse."  She
shrugged it off her shoulders. "And the bra."  She reached in front
and undid the clasp, pulling the cups away on both sides and sliding
it off her shoulders. It joined the blouse and jacket at the other end
of the sofa.  Her nipples were hardening. They always do at times like
this.  I reached up and kissed them both, hugging her to me. I let one
hand slide down and trace a light touch across the front of her
panties and between her legs.

"Do you have the tape?"

"Yes. It's in my purse."

"Put it on. Then you can tell me about it."

I clicked on the set. Thirty seconds later the screen buzzed to life
from the tape she'd put in the machine. I recognized the room - it was
a meeting room off one of the executive offices in her building. She'd
set the camera on the table and positioned it just like we'd planned
when I built the small frame to hold it.  Then her profile came into
view along the left half of the screen. She turned to the camera and
gave the date and time.

"It's Wednesday, November 14th,  Nineteen Ninety Five, at six fifteen
p.m." Then she turned away again to a profile of her right side.
After a few seconds, she opened her mouth. Almost immediately, an
erect penis entered the frame from the right, and she allowed it to
enter her mouth and begin thrusting back and forth. I pulled her down
next to me and started rubbing her nipples as we watched.

She sucked the cock with great talent. Never used her hands. It moved
in and out of her mouth, from tip to groin, as she deep-throated the
entire shaft. After about four or five minutes, the cock pulled back
until just the tip was in her mouth, and the man's hand came down to
stroke the shaft. We both heard the groan from off camera.  Then I
watched as my lovely wife swallowed down what appeared to be about
half a dozen quick spurts of semen.

"That was Don. I let him go first, seeing as how he's the boss and
all."

"How was it?"

"Really hot. A bit salty, and kinda liquidy. No clumps or anything,
that I could tell."

"Good. Who's next?"

"Umm, I think it was James. Yeah, there he is." She pointed.

It had to be James. Only Negro in the group.  Interestingly enough,
not a huge cock. But coal black, just like the rest of him. Great guy.
Has a charming British accent, which I understand he works very hard
at maintaining, since he was born in St. Louis.  Again we watched
silently as my wife fellated her co-worker for several minutes until
he ejaculated into her mouth. Again she swallowed at least half a
dozen times. I watched her Adam's apple bob up and down.

"That was a huge one. I think he must've pumped half a pint into me."

"Yeah, looked like it."

The tape lasted about half an hour. One by one, we watched my
beautiful, educated wife get her face fucked by eight men until they
all came in her mouth. She swallowed every drop. Not a single little
droplet escaped her lips to stain her blouse. She's really gotten a
lot better at that, I must admit. Time was, she used to come home with
little tiny stains all over the front of her clothes.  Not any more.

Finally she was finished. She turned back to the camera and smiled,
swallowed one last time, and we saw her hand reach out and turn the
tape off. The screen dissolved into snow.

"Well, how was it?" I said.

"Good. They were all different a bit, but good, yeah, good."

"Good as me?"

"Of course not! No one's as good as you."

"That's right. But we're not going to stop until we prove that,
right?"

"Right."  I got up and popped the tape out and added it to the
collection. That made number one hundred and seventy four. Each
half-hour tape was alike - Suzanne on her knees, getting her throat
fucked. Suzanne, on her knees, swallowing cum. Suzanne, on her knees,
licking the white streams from her lips.

By the time I turned back to the sofa, she had her mouth open for me.
I don't mind being number nine. Hell, one night I was number one, and
number sixty four.  And the next day, whew, you talk about bad
breath........

Since then, I make sure she has a little bottle of Lavoris in her
purse. She goes through it real fast.


                                  The End

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