J Wheatfield - A film for a few friends

It was too early to go to bed and too late to get dressed and go out, assuming she could think of somewhere she wanted to go, so Lynn Langley found herself wandering aimlessly through the house in her nightdress half-heartedly tidying up the living room and wondering if she could get some money out of her husband, Matt, for some new curtains. The night was uncomfortably warm and humid, and she knew that it would be impossible to sleep with the hot south wind blowing into the bedroom window. Lynn always found it difficult to doze off when her husband was away, and these days the TV studio seemed to be sending him out of town more and more frequently to film track meets, high school football games, boxing matches, and anything else in the sports world which might conceivably interest the athletically minded viewers of WRT-TV, the local television.

Depressed and feeling a slight headache coming on, Lynn meandered lazily into the bedroom and threw herself unhappily on the big double bed, her long blonde hair spraying out against the whiteness of the pillow. The breeze from the window was hot, but moving air of any temperature was refreshing, and she enjoyed the feeling of the wind caressing her lightly clad body.

Lynn had the stunning voluptuous figure of a young Greek Goddess, and a professional photographer would have immediately noticed that this was an exceptional-looking girl and reached for his camera. The filmy silk nightgown barely hid her high-set widely spaced breasts and the flimsy material was translucent, revealing her pointed, rosy-tipped nipples. The nightie was tight and form fitted, dutifully following the breathtaking curves of her ripely generous figure, flowing over a flat smooth stomach down to full firm thighs and the inviting brown patch of soft pubic hair up between her long tapered legs. There was no question about it; this was a woman worth looking at, and men normally took the opportunity to do just that whenever she passed their way.

But on this hot evening, Lynn's smoothly chiseled features were marred by a frown, and the restless dissatisfaction she was feeling showed clearly in her large hazel eyes. Lynn could not put her finger exactly on the cause of her unhappiness because it seemed that everything that had ever worried and troubled her in the past was coming back to haunt her tonight. Why did Matt have to be out of town whenever she really needed him to cheer her up? On a night like this, they should be mixing drinks, taking cool showers, and making love until they had tired themselves out enough to sleep. Instead, she was alone and love-making was out of the question for three more days!

The voluptuously attractive young wife shook her head to drive away the bad thoughts which were tormenting her mercilessly and decided to wash her face with cold water. Why did it have to be like this? Other women managed to forget their premarital love affairs, marry good honest men like Matt and then settle down, happy and content for the rest of their lives. If she had only listened to what her mother had taught her as a child she would never have gotten herself involved with a character like Phil Agard to begin with, and she would never have learned to be dissatisfied with a fine upstanding individual like her husband. She should have gone to her wedding a virgin and not a slightly used kept woman with remorse for the past and continual worries about the future.

She washed her face without feeling much better for it and returned to her bed, knowing in advance that she would never be able to get to sleep as long as she was in this condition. Small beads of sweat were already forming all over her body, and she realized instinctively that the evening's heat was only half of the explanation, the other half being too shameful to admit even to herself. She was aroused, excited! She needed some physical satisfaction, and there was none in sight!

Somehow, as the languid, sexually deprived woman sprawled on her bed, the thin fabric of her shortie nightgown landed high on the flat tantalizing plane of her stomach, exposing the softly tempting darkness between her slightly spread legs. Beneath the fine flaxen hair of her pubic mound, the warm south wind swept boldly over the thin hair-lined slit of her open loins.

And it felt good! She was so turned on tonight that even the delicate impersonal touch of the wind was sensual, and she spread her lithe, tapered legs even farther apart, baring the whole moist crevice of her cunt to the hot breeze from the window. Then, with an abrupt gesture, she raised the firmly rounded half-moons of her buttocks off the surface of the mattress and slid the nightie up over the rising mounds of her breasts. A moment later, she removed the gown completely, wanting to let the hot, lust-inciting wind caress her totally naked body.

Oh, God, what the hell am I doing, she moaned to herself in anguish. A couple of days without my husband, and here I am, acting like a sex-starved teenager! Lynn, when will you ever grow up?

Then, without warning, a terrible temptation swept over her. It was something she had not done since she had married and something she had sworn she would never do again, but she knew even as she battled against it that the temptation was going to win and her willpower would lose!

Tonight she was going to get that old diary out of the desk and retread it again!

No sooner had the thought struck her mind than she was on her feet, finding the key in her purse and fitting it deftly to the desk drawer where she kept her personal papers. Like most romantically inclined young women, Lynn had scrupulously kept a diary during her teenage years, recording those very special events like her first date, her first kiss, and even her first sexual experiences. And even after she had gone to work as a secretary at WRT-TV and gotten involved in her disastrous love affair with Phil Agard, the president and manager of the television station, she had continued to write jotting down what they had said and done to one another during the most intimate moments of their association. Later, when the affair was obviously going sour, she had clung to the diary as if it were her only friend, confiding everything in the crude vulgar explicit language which Phil himself used and had taught her to use. Her marriage to Matt had brought an end to diary writing, and she had told herself on her wedding night that all that childish foolishness was now behind her forever. She had even considered burning the book to prevent Matt from ever stumbling upon this record of sin and degradation, thus finding out just how his innocent little wife behaved before their marriage!

But, unfortunately, she had never had the courage to burn it and now her hands trembled slightly as she held it before her for the first time in four years. She opened it at random:

I felt my body turning on like an electric light! It didn't hurt any more and there was a strange restless tingle running maddeningly up and down my backbone as he crushed fiercely into me all the nerve endings in my body were going off like sirens and my hot gaping little cant felt as if it were going to explode. I called his name over and over again like a crazy woman and he put his hand over my mouth to keep the neighbors from finding out that my boyfriend was not only a married man but the director of the television station. Everybody knew Phil and he was always afraid of a scandal!

And when he really got started, I was rotating my hips recklessly from side to side, trying to excite him as much as I could, and deep, deep inside my stretched, battered vagina, I could feel his hard impaling cock stuck all the way up in me like a sword thrust into a sheath, so far in that the thick red tip of his manhood was rubbing torturously against my cervix. I never felt so absolutely filled in my entire life and my tender little pussy seemed as though it was being shattered into a thousand pieces! I treed to hold my shivering, quaking body still and not make a complete fool of myself, but the piteous groans just kept coming out of my mouth, one after another, and I seemed to have lost control over my legs because they were splayed out wildly on either side of his long jerking pole, and my whole body was bucking and heaving like mad. I couldn't help myself! It was as if he had climbed right up inside my cant!