by Clive Dixon
(06/17/09)

"Don't look, don't look, don't look."

Ignoring her own advice, Steph turned her head and glanced at the clock. When she saw the time, 2:36, she groaned out loud. Tom wouldn't be home for another three hours at best -- four if he got held up at work. And let's face it, she thought, these days he almost always got held up.

She fought off a sudden wave of panic, forcing herself to take several deep breaths. As she did so, she became aware of a gentle throbbing between her legs. At the moment it was like a distant drumbeat, so faint she wasn't quite sure it was even there. But Steph knew what was about to happen. With each passing minute, the drumbeat would become louder and more insistent until it could no longer be ignored. Until it demanded her full attention.

As she paced the kitchen floor, an idea popped into her head in that odd way ideas sometimes do. "Oh, please," she thought to herself. "I'm not that desperate." But as she continued to pace back and forth -- and as the pulsing in her groin gradually intensified -- the idea blossomed and grew.

"Why not?" she finally asked herself. "Why the hell not?"

She reached the refrigerator in three quick strides and threw open the door.

During the first three months of her pregnancy, Steph was convinced that she'd never want to have sex again.

Ever.

She'd said as much to her husband one night. When he slid a tentative hand onto her hip -- his "testing the waters" move -- she'd pushed it off so hard she almost knocked him out of bed.

"Are you out of your mind?" she'd snarled. "You're the one who did this to me. Even if I ever want to have sex again -- which I won't -- you're never getting any."

She'd apologized the next morning. She even gave him a hand job to relieve his frustration. But he'd barely started to ejaculate when she had to run to the bathroom to throw up.

Running to the bathroom had become a regular part of Steph's routine during those months. She'd spent hours kneeling on the cold tiles, hugging the toilet like a long-lost friend while she puked and dry heaved into the porcelain bowl. It was a good thing she worked at home as a freelance writer, because she couldn't have even made it into an office, let alone lasted the day there. Just walking from one room to another made her queasy.

And then -- as if by magic -- the nausea passed and her sex drive returned. Except that it didn't feel like her sex drive. It was as if someone had thrown a switch that instantly turned her libido from off to hyper drive. Or to put it another way, it felt like she was channeling the sex drive of a raging nymphomaniac.

Steph had read in one of her many pregnancy books that some women experienced an increase in libido during the second trimester. Since she'd read it between bouts of vomiting, she'd dismissed it as the stuff of fantasies.

Now she found herself masturbating several times a day: on her back, on her knees, astride the arm of the living room sofa. The word horny didn't begin to cover what she was feeling, and the relief she got from her orgasms was fleeting at best. Less than an hour after she came, she'd feel her clit stir back to life, and before she knew it she was a desperate housewife again.

Tom had been delighted at first. It was like a return to the first steamy weeks of their relationship when they did it on any available surface at every available moment. But after a few weeks even Tom seemed to be tiring. He'd even complained one morning that his dick was getting sore, but Steph had refused to take no for an answer.

"Suck it up and fuck me," she'd demanded, shocking both herself and her husband. He had done as he was told.

Lying on her back on the kitchen floor, her shorts and panties down around her ankles, Steph rubbed the tip of the cucumber back and forth between her legs. Her clit was now humming like a turbo generator, and her upper thighs were sticky from her juices. The cucumber was a good inch longer than her husband's erect cock and thicker as well, and the more she thought about putting it inside her the hotter she felt.

With a growing sense of urgency, she kicked off her shorts and panties so she could spread her legs further apart. After wetting it with saliva, she positioned the narrower end of the cucumber at her opening and let it slip in and out of her cunt. She let out an involuntary moan as she gradually worked three-quarters of it inside her.

Steph began to work the cucumber back and forth in her pussy with one hand while she massaged her clit with the other. The smooth cool skin of the vegetable felt wonderful inside her, and she could feel the throbbing intensify. A sudden image of what she must look like flashed through her head, and she laughed out loud, momentarily losing her concentration.

"This is what I've been reduced to," she thought. "I'm fucking a cucumber on the kitchen floor."

The peal of the doorbell triggered instant panic. Steph bolted to a sitting position, trying desperately to remember if she'd locked the door when Tom left. She sat frozen for a moment, hoping whoever it was would give up and go away.

But the doorbell rang again, followed by a familiar voice.

"Hello, Mrs. Holton? It's Will from across the street."

Steph groaned. Tom had reminded her the night before that he'd hired Will, the neighbors' son, to clean up the basement. Will was in college and was looking to earn some extra money by doing odd jobs in the neighborhood.

"Coming," she called and winced at her unfortunate choice of words. If only, she thought.

Pulling the cucumber out of her vagina, she looked around wildly for a moment, as if looking for a hiding place, but finally deposited it in the sink. Then she quickly pulled on her panties and shorts. She stopped for a moment in the hallway to collect herself and smooth her hair before opening the front door.

"Hi Will," she said, doing her best to sound casual.

"Hello."

Will's eyes slid down from Steph's face to her chest like metal to a magnet, and she inwardly kicked herself. During the first four months of her pregnancy, Steph's already ample breasts had grown a full cup size. Not wanting to deal with the discomfort of a bra that morning, she'd pulled on a skimpy tank top instead. Now she was acutely aware that she was flashing some serious cleavage while her fully erect nipples were clearly visible through the thin cotton of her shirt.

When Will looked back up, he was blushing. There was also a considerable bulge in the crotch of his pants.

"Mr. Holton asked me to clean up your basement," he began awkwardly. "Is this an okay time?"

"It's fine, Will," Steph said. "Come on in."

She led him back to the kitchen and was about to open the basement door when he spoke again.

"Would it be okay if I got a glass of water?"

Steph paused for a second, aware that she wanted to get Will down into the basement and out of her sight as soon as possible. She wasn't worried that she'd try to seduce him; she knew she'd never do something like that. But the thought that she was in the same room with a young erect cock was almost more than she could bear. Besides, she was terrified that Will could smell her in her permanently aroused state.

"Of course," she said, walking to the sink. The sight of the cucumber triggered a new wave of heat in her loins, but she forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand.

When she turned around, glass in hand, she discovered that Will was now staring at the kitchen floor.

"You've got a wet spot here," he said, pointing down at his feet. "I'll get it for you.

Before Steph could stop him, he tore off a piece of paper towel and knelt to wipe up her juices. She could feel herself blushing to the roots of her hair, and when he stood up a moment later -- a question in his eyes -- she couldn't find her voice and had to point to the cupboard under the sink. He opened the door and threw away the towel, but not before he'd glanced at the glistening cucumber.

"Oh, God, he knows," Steph thought, as Will slowly drank the glass of water. But since the expression on his face remained blank, and he was not staring at her, she decided she was being paranoid.

He finished the water at last and headed down into the basement. Steph closed the door gratefully and fled to the upstairs bathroom. She wanted to put as much space between her and Will as possible. And she wanted relief.

By the time Steph heard Tom's key in the front door it was close to 6:30 and she was almost beside herself. Will had left a good hour earlier, promising to return the next day to finish the job. While saying goodbye, he had once again stared at her chest and once again displayed a large bulge in his pants. Steph had thought how easy it would be to reach out and touch it: to unzip his pants, to release his cock into plain view, to wrap her lips around it.

And then she'd made a firm decision to be out of the house the next day when Will was there.

Tom had barely closed the door and turned around when Steph was upon him. Falling to her knees, she worked frantically to unbuckle his belt and push his pants to the floor.

"What the..." Tom began, but his final word was swallowed in a groan as Steph took him into her mouth. Massaging the back of his balls with the fingers of one hand, she could feel his cock swell and harden in her mouth. His small moans served to increase her own sense of urgency and made her even more aware of the heat between her legs.

Normally, Steph would have spent more time sucking Tom's cock -- she liked to give him pleasure -- but today her needs were too great. As soon as he was hard, she dragged him to the floor and clambered on top of him. Having changed into a skirt -- and discarded her panties -- after Will left, she had only to straddle Tom's body and position herself over his groin. Reaching behind her, she found his now-hard cock and maneuvered it into place. Pausing only to wet its tip in her dripping pussy, she guided it inside her and sank down onto it with a grateful wail.

And she kept right on wailing. Steph couldn't remember ever wanting to get a cock inside her as badly as she had at that moment. Her cunt hadn't just felt hungry -- it had felt starving -- and Tom's penis was just the food she needed to satisfy it. Much better than the cucumber, she thought with a smile, because it was warm and throbbing and alive.

While she bounced up and down on Tom's dick with abandon, Steph slid her left hand down to her clit and began massaging it with two fingers. With her other hand, she pulled her tank top up over her breasts and began fondling them and playing with her nipples. She could feel herself building toward orgasm, and when it arrived a moment later it surged through her like a runaway freight train. Her cunt clutched at Tom's cock in spasm after blessed spasm until a final delicious shudder rippled through her, and she collapsed in a heap onto the floor.

When her eyes met Tom's a moment later, she felt suddenly awkward. He had an odd expression on his face, one that was difficult to read.

"Uh, welcome home," she said sheepishly.

For a second she thought he might actually be angry with her, but then the straight line of his mouth curved up into a smile and his eyes crinkled in that way she particularly loved. He reached forward and kissed her on the mouth.

"I think I have the horniest wife in America," he said, resting his palm against her cheek.

"I think you may be right," Steph admitted. She was aware that the warmth of Tom's touch had triggered a faint pulsing in her nether regions.

"So what am I going to do about that?"

Steph smiled at him sweetly. "I think the best thing might be to fuck me again."

They worked slowly this time. Tom made Steph kneel in an upright position while he licked and sucked her tits. He took his time on each breast, swirling his tongue around her nipples in a way that drove her crazy. By the time he moved back to study her face, she was dripping on the floor. And when he suddenly put his hand between her legs and slipped two fingers inside her, she threw her head back and gasped loudly.

"God, you're wet," he said, moving his fingers in a slow circular motion. Then he pulled them out and made her suck on them, tasting her own juices. Even before her sex drive had skyrocketed, sucking on Tom's fingers had always sent Steph's arousal level through the roof, and before she knew it the throbbing between her legs was once again reaching the boiling point.

Sensing her urgency, Tom stood up and pulled her to her feet. He led her quickly to the living room where he bent her over the back of the couch. When he lifted her skirt, exposing her bare ass, Steph spread her legs and tilted her pelvis in eager anticipation.

But Tom wasn't about to let her off that easy. He stroked the inside of her thighs, letting his fingers brush lightly against her pussy but never letting them rest there too long. After a few minutes of this he began to massage her ass, pulling her cheeks apart in such a way that made her nether lips flare open. When he started to slide the head of his cock down the crack in her ass and rub it against her opening, Steph couldn't take it anymore.

"Please," she moaned, rocking her hips in anticipation. "Just fuck me."

Tom let the tip of his penis slip in and out of her dripping hole before sliding the full length of it inside her. Steph began to pump her hips hard in time with his powerful thrusts. She wasn't used to Tom being as rough as this, and she realized she liked it.

At the same time, she was delighted to find that the ridge of material that ran along the top of the sofa was lined up perfectly with her clit. Each time Tom thrust into her, Steph's clit rubbed back and forth across this ridge until she thought it might explode.

By now she was making so much noise she worried the neighbors might call the police. And just when she thought she couldn't get any hotter, she had a sudden fantasy that Will was standing on the other side of the couch with his dick in her mouth. The combination of that image and the feel of her husband's thumb rubbing against her asshole pushed her over the edge.

"Yes! Oh god! Yes!"

Steph knew she sounded like an over-the-top porn star, but she couldn't help it. The waves of pleasure that radiated through her body were a blessed relief after her day of frustration. And the sensation of Tom exploding inside her, filling her with his hot, sticky come, only added to her sense of satisfaction.

"My, my," Tom said as if seconding her thoughts. "I'm going to have to get you pregnant more often."

Although it was technically Tom's turn to cook, Steph told him that she would make dinner that night. It was the least she could do after what he'd done for her. She even poured two glasses of wine and lit a candle.

"Great meal," Tom said, stabbing a piece of cucumber with his fork. He brought it to his mouth but then hesitated for a moment, a funny look on his face. "Everything in this house smells like sex," he said, "even the cucumber."

"That's because I fucked it this afternoon," Steph said casually.

They stared at each other for a moment and then burst into laughter.

"I almost had you there," Steph teased him.

But she made a mental note to buy a new cucumber.

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