Virginia's Peculiar Fascination: Chapter 7 (Finale)

He mounted the steps and wandered the halls of the second floor, tracking down his wife. Following the droplets of semen on the floor like a big-game hunter. He found her in their bedroom, in the en suite, her naked image warbling behind the glass doors of their walk-in shower. He stood and admired her for a moment, smiling, palming the belly of his aching erection over his slacks. Goddamn, Ginny was beautiful.

Look at her soaping off all that young stud’s copious ejaculate.

The sight twisted his belly and had his cock flexing hard in his pants.

The twisting became uncomfortable and had him moving faster now, taking off his shirt and pants, socks and boxers, going barefoot into the steamy shower with his Virginia.

Ginny turned and watched him come in, and her cheeks blazed pinker than they already were. She looked up and away as if mortified by what she’d done. He took her hands.

He said, “Only the best for my beautiful Ginny.”

“Oh, Preston,” she muttered. “What have I done?”

“You’re still doing it,” he said, pressing his cock against her slippery tummy.

She said, “Where is he now?” Her brow lowered.

“Gone to buy his sister a birthday gift or something.” He lowered his mouth to her soapy collar and kissed her below her ear and then brought his lips around her earlobe.

Her eyes down-turned, and her expression became more sullen. “Preston . . . You didn’t pay him, did you?”

“What? Pay him to come here? Pay him—like a prostitute? No way, Ginny. He was here of his own accord. I asked him if he’d come, and he said he would. He knows who you are. He’d seen you around the club.”

The sullenness faded, and she looked up again, studying him for any sign of dishonesty. The only times he’d ever lied to his wife in his entire life were about surprise birthday parties. She smiled. She said, “He didn’t know who I was.”

Fishing for more information. It was sweet to see her engaged again. He didn’t like the idea of her having any regrets over what had happened. “You think the young men working at the club don’t see some of you ladies walking around and have nasty thoughts about what they’d like to do to you?”

“Oh, Preston,” she said, rolling her eyes, slinking her slippery arms around his neck. 

“That kid was the locker room champ at the club. You see why. That equipment swinging around like that. We all joked around with him, all of us old farts. One afternoon I see him at the bar and we hit it off. A couple of weeks later I’m asking him if he’d like to show my beautiful wife what he had down there because she wouldn’t believe it if I told her.”

Ginny looked disbelieving for a good while, frowning but smiling, not knowing how serious he was.

“That’s the truth,” he said. “Carter says, Your wife is Virginia, right? And I say, do you know her? And he says he sees you around. Young guy like that gets an offer to show his impressive endowment to the most beautiful woman at Pine Glen Country Club, that young guy is going to show up when he’s asked.”

Ginny chuckled at last, all dubious thoughts quashed, and hugged him. “That boy is blessed. That’s for sure.”

Preston hugged her in return. “You’re not kidding. What a dong on him.”

“Those were the hugest balls.”

“For sure,” he said. “Bigger than the ones that got you started?”

She set him back, sly and narrow-eyed. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, Gin. Somebody out there had big balls in your life, and he knew how to use them. That’s what I’m guessing. You know you can tell me.”

She sighed as if exasperated, wilting away from him. But he knew she would tell him.

“Before I even knew you, Preston…”

“Yeah?”

She waffled, reluctant to divulge. He waited her out. She said, “A two-week thing with Sam Little. He, uh…”

“Skip Little?” He was incredulous. Skinny nerd at Charlotte Latin. Didn’t play sports. Glasses.

“That’s the one.”

“Oh, Ginny.”

She looked sheepish. “It was because I saw the size of it in his pants one day, and I… I’m so embarrassed, Preston.”

“So, Skip, huh? Samuel Little wasn’t so little?”

“He was hung, but god, Preston, he was just such a dork.”

“Yeah, we used to say that about him.”

“Would you have cut him some slack if you’d seen him naked around the club?”

“Have him come by the house and show you what he’s got? Probably not. Not if I knew he was making moves on you. And how much you liked the size of his balls.”

She kissed his chin, her eyes narrowing. “You’re the one with the big balls, Preston. My goodness. You’re the real man in my life.”

“I’m the only man.”

“Without a doubt,” she said, slinking away, looking down at his pride sticking upright and throbbing between them.

He said, “Easy, Ginny. That thing’s loaded.”

“Hair trigger?”

“You know it. What I just watched? I’m right on the edge.”

She showed him a sly smile and lowered to her knees before him, the shower spray hitting him in the chest and neck. Her slippery hands slid down his wet thighs, and he jolted as she took hold of the base of his cock and angled it to her mouth. He groaned and fell forward, resting his chin on the tile as she sank his cock into her cool mouth. His legs shook and quavered, and the pleasure spiraled from the soft and slippery contact of his wife’s beautiful mouth on his aching hardness, incomprehensible pleasure zipping through his being from the wild and wicked head of his cock.

And in mere seconds it was a fait accompli. He grunted and bucked and absolutely exploded in Ginny’s mouth. He hosed everything into her maw, and she swallowed and gulped and snorted through her nose, one hand clawed on his rump. He pulsed endlessly, and Ginny never released her lip lock on his organ until he began to soften at last, and his leaking ceased. He collapsed against the wall, mortally drained. 

Ginny chuckled and leg-lifted her wet back up the tile wall, getting her face to his face. She backhanded her pouting lips and smiled at him. “You never cease to amaze me, Preston,” she said.

“Yeah, well,” he panted, eyes heavy, pools of pleasure rising and eddying in his neck and head, “give me an hour’s rest in the sun by the pool and I’ll be ready to really show you something.”

***

Instead of a gin and tonic by the pool this afternoon, he whipped up a protein shake in the Vitamix. Two scoops of protein. Then a few glasses of water and some zinc tablets. If Ginny liked copious amounts of semen, he’d try to improve his volume. The sight of Carter launching so many thick, pearly streams on ecstatic Ginny had spiked his adrenaline. Carter had painted her entire front in pearlescent white. 

Ginny joined him by the pool with a citrus cocktail, lots of crushed ice.

“What’ve you got there?”

“Margarita,” she told him. “I wanted something icy.”

“You going to plant it between your thighs?”

She laughed and sat on the lounger at his side. “Maybe I will. He gave my little lady quite the beating.”

“I’ll be good to her later,” he said.

The sun was hot, and they baked for a long while. Ginny’s phone dinged a few times, and she thumbed away responses. A few minutes later, after more incoming message dings, she sat up and put her feet on the deck. He regarded her. 

Looking hot and tanned, her bikini struggling to contain her hearty bosom, the cleavage demanding his attention. But her expression won his gaze. Something interesting had developed, and he asked her what was going on.

She smiled and chuckled to herself, then thumbed out a response. Then she raised her sunglasses into her bright blonde hair and looked at him. “Your young client from today, you know the one, the guy with the enormous penis? He’s friended me.”

“He said he might.”

Another ding on her phone. She read the message and then commented, “Oh my.”

“What is it, Ginny?”

She set her phone down, leaned back on her hands, sexier than he’d ever seen her. “He’s wondering if we could meet again before he goes to Italy.” She smiled. He liked the deviousness of the smile.

He sat up too. “I think someone has a crush on you,” he said.

“I do too,” she said.

“I think he’s smitten.”

“Maybe more than smitten,” she said.

“How’s that, Ginny?”

She lifted her phone and showed him the screen. It showed an image of a huge erect penis. The balls lying below it were also massive. Kid taking pictures of his huge dick in his Honda and sending them to Virginia Whitmore. How salacious.

“He sent you that?”

Ginny looked at the photo. “Just now, Preston. Hot off the presses. He says he can’t stop thinking of me.”

“I know the feeling,” he said. “He doesn’t take long to get it up again, does he?”

“I bet he could go and go and go.” She looked at the photo again with a seedy hunger.

Now all he could imagine was being at work tomorrow and Ginny and Carter fucking in their bed all day long. Ten times maybe. Ginny getting come all over her, Carter pumping a huge load inside her and it overflows from her pinkness and bubbles on their expensive bedding. He gets home, and she’s too exhausted to say Welcome home, husband. Carter’s gone. He drank the last beer, and Preston and Ginny’s bedroom smells like sex and some cheap but sporty deodorant. 

And he loved it. Loved the image. Loved the idea of taking Ginny’s boneless sex-spent body and slipping his human-sized cock into her tender, soaking pussy and finishing off inside her while she lolled on the bed, too drained to put her arms around him or even lift her legs up.

He stood up. Ginny saw the tented out front of his swim trunks. 

“Wow, Preston,” she said.

“This kid’s the best thing that’s happened to us in a long time.”

“I’ll say,” she said, reaching out and tugging down his trunks. The sun heated his cock skin.

She kissed the tip of his erection, then looked up at him, playing coy. “What do you say, Preston? Can my friend come for another visit?”

He said, “Whatever Ginny wants, Ginny gets.”