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Ray Couch - Naughty Nights At Home

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Ray L Couch Naughty Nights At Home Chapter 1 Valerie Martingale paced - photo 1

Ray L. Couch

Naughty Nights At Home

Chapter 1

Valerie Martingale paced restlessly about her bedroom, puffing nervously on a cigarette. Steven, her tall, dark, handsome son was home for the summer from college, and she wasn't prepared for him. He was home a week early, catching her completely unsuspecting and off-guard to the extent that he had let himself in through the front door, and caught her walking through the living room stark naked.

Steve's seeing his mother's voluptuous, still firm and satin smooth body nude was no big thing, of course, because they all walked around naked a lot. This was a family habit established years ago. Valerie, her husband, Cleveland, their daughter, Beverly, and Steven, all strolled about the house in various stages of undress, up to and including complete nudity. But Valerie didn't like being caught unawares like this. She had just stepped out of the shower, where she had industriously finger-fucked her hot, gushing pussy almost to the point of orgasm. She had been heading for her bedroom to get her vibrator and finish the job when Steve walked in.

It was as though he could read her thoughts, divine her secret, lustful purpose. She had blushed to the roots of her hair, and squealed in panic and confusion as he grabbed her in his strong arms, lifting her all the way from the floor, and kissed her firmly, wetly, flush on her open mouth. Before setting her back down on her feet, he had smacked her fondly, playfully on her big, soft ass, and said, "Hi, love of my life, you look good enough to eat where's Bev?"

Beverly, her straight blonde hair flying, big Hue eyes sparkling with happiness, coral lips opened wide in joyful laughter, had come flying through the door from her own bedroom, screaming, "Steve Steve Steeeveyyyy! You're home early!"

In one flying leap, the beautiful young girl was in her brother's arms, hanging on to his neck with her legs flying as he spun her around; she further upset her mother by revealing that her fat, rosy-cheeked ass was completely naked. She pressed her firm sixteen-year-old breasts flat against his broad, muscular chest, kissed him repeatedly on the mouth, and continued to squeal, "Stevey, I'm so glad to see you so glad so glad! Are you alone did you bring anybody with you?"

"Yep, I'm alone," Steve had replied, giving her; ass the same treatment he had given his mother's before putting her down, only this time leaving his hand there to fondle and squeeze. "I had no finals to take, so I got out a week early. None of my buddies could make it come on upstairs and help me unpack."

And the two of them, arm-in-arm, each carrying a suitcase, ascended the long, winding staircase, seemingly having forgotten their mother's very existence. Looking up from below, Valerie could see all the way up Beverly's mini-skirt, and she could have sworn that the young girl's thickly haired, fat-lipped pussy was already shiny and wet, and visibly twitching.

Now, pacing the deeply carpeted floor of the master bedroom like a caged lioness, Valerie tried to calm herself down, remove the utterly ridiculous thoughts that spun about in her mind. She stopped before the full length mirror on the closet door and contemplated her face and figure.

At thirty-eight she was still beautiful, still desirable, as beautiful and desirable as she had ever been. Her golden blonde hair was vibrant, alive, cut in a fluffy light-reflecting halo to frame her lovely heart-shaped face. Her eyes were as big, blue, bright, with long, up-curling, dark brown lashes. Her nose was cute, saucy, turned up like Beverly's, with the added youthful allure of a splash of golden freckles across the bridge. Her full, pouting lips were a love poem of sex and sensuality.

It was her body, though, that belied her age, and did wonders for her ego. Her skin was a deep, creamy tan, as smooth and taut as a grape peel over her five-foot-seven, 120-pound frame. Her breasts were huge, as full and heavy as overripe fruit, yet they sagged no more than her daughter's, and crowned with nipples like ripe red cherries, set off by dark brown, bumpy areolas the size of silver dollars.

Her waist was tiny, a span of only twenty-four inches, but curved out to the merest hint of a soft round underbelly, and swooped farther out in back to blend into an ass that could and did literally stop traffic. Sloping, round bottomed, over smooth resilient thighs, the deeply cleft, mouthwatering globes seemed constantly on the verge of pulling her over backwards.

"38-24-38," Valerie whispered bitterly to her reflection, "except for my ass, I haven't gained an inch or a pound in fifteen years. But what good does it do me? Cleveland is never home more than two nights a week. Steven comes home after three long months, and I may as well have been a piece of furniture for all the effect I had on him. Oh God oh God, I'm so fucking miserable. What am I going to do?"

Walking over and flopping down on her back on the gigantic circular waterbed that she sometimes shared with her husband, Valerie stared angrily up at the mirrored ceiling.

"They're nicking," she hissed up at her brooding reflection, "I know Steve and Bev are fucking I'm not blind I'm nobody's goddamned fool they're fucking right now right this minute, and and I'm lying here on fire aching for some hard, driving cock anybody's cock Oh God Oh God.

"Cleveland Martingale, you sonofabitch, why are you neglecting me like this?" She accusingly addressed her absent husband. "You know how I love to fuck how I need to fuck day and night night and day I'm going insane out of my mind oh God, help me."

For long moments she lay perfectly still, listening to hear any telltale sounds from Steve's bedroom directly above.

"Oh shit," she finally muttered in self-disgust, "I'm reading more into their relationship than is actually there. I'm accusing them because I want a good fucking myself so bad, that I'm dying dying. Why would Steve want to fuck his little sister when he gets more pussy than he wants or can handle? He has to fight the horny little bitches off. And since I put Bev on the pill over a year ago, she has been fucking like a little rabbit. The boys chase after her like a pack of dogs after a bitch in heat. And I'm happy for her I envy her. Like a goddamned fool, I only fucked Cleveland when I was a teenager, but Beverly gets all the variety she wants, and as far as I am concerned, there is no such thing as too much."

Valerie's hand dropped between her splayed thighs, and of their own volition two of her long, slender fingers slid slickly into her oozing, twitching love hole. She pulled the fingers slowly out, and they came away dripping with the crystal clear slime of her constant, burning passion. With a whimpering moan, she lifted the fingers to her open mouth, and licked her thick juice from them greedily.

Immediately she plunged the hand back into the blazing furnace between her thighs, dug in two fingers three four working them around and around, jogging them in and out, scooping out handfuls of cummy nectar, schlurping it from her palm, sucking her fingers like little cocks. While one hand was at her mouth, the other dived into her flaming cunt. Grabbing her turgid, thick-headed clit between her thumb and forefinger, she jerked it up and down like a man giving himself a hand job. She rubbed it, scrubbed it, stiffened two fingers and began whirling them around the glans of the sensitive nubbin like miniature propellers.

Her entire being was flooded with a melting, swimmy, dizzy sensation that made her weak, made her head swim. She couldn't think clearly, because all of her senses were locked, crystallized into the steaming vortex of her cock hungry cunt. When she was like this, wild, insane with lust, nothing else in the world mattered but relief. Her cunt burned, bubbled, seemed on the verge of exploding into a million tiny pieces.

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