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Chapter 1

He was so young. Couldn't have been more than eighteen. And here I was old enough to be his mother. Lord, my own c***dren were his age.

Why was I doing this? It was insane. Respectable women don't do things like this with the young boys they hire to cut the grass.

But his cock was so big. I'd noticed it right away in the crotch of his tight jeans when he'd come to the door politely asking if I wanted the lawn mowed. I just couldn't stop myself from seducing him.

My cunt had been itching for days, without me really admitting it to myself. Frustration had been building. And then, there on the front porch with sandy hair, freckles and a smile, was the unexpected answer to my dilemma. I knew he was the solution the instant I saw that throbbing bulge in his pants.

I'd immediately agreed to his offer to work in my yard. Then, while he was out there pushing the mower under the hot sun, I'd made my move.

I went outside and watched him work for a few moments, noting the healthy sweat that trickled from his handsome face and stuck his T-shirt to his muscular back. Even at s*******n he was a hunk.

I knew I wanted him. Had to have him. Would do anything.

I walked over to where he was toiling. "You look hot," I said. "Why don't you take your shirt off?"

He mumbled something and then drew the soggy cotton over his head. I had to suppress a gasp at the sight of his bare chest. The scent of male flesh had never turned me on so.

When he went back to work, I sat on the steps and watched his rippling muscles play against each other. With the sweat drenching his skin, his sinews were glistening. He looked as powerful as a jungle cat. After waiting a few minutes, I got up and approached him again. There was no way I could leave this magnificent specimen alone.

"Why don't you take a break?" I suggested. "Come in the house and have something to drink. I'll fix you some lemonade."

"Okay," he shrugged. "I was getting kind of beat. The weatherman says the temperature is going to set a record today."

Once I had him inside the house, I situated him on the couch while I went into the kitchen to prepare the promised lemonade. It was when I was mixing it in the pitcher that I got the idea of dumping about a pint of vodka into it.

"Say," he said enthusiastically after a couple of gasses of the concoction, "this stuff is great. You make great lemonade, Mrs., uh. . ."

"Lawrence, Mrs. Lawrence. But you can call me Betty. What do they call you?"

"Well, my real name is Horace," he replied with embarrassment. "But I'd appreciate it if you'd call me Buzz."

"Buzz it is," I reassured him. "You're certainly no Horace."

"Thanks a lot, Mrs., uh . . .

"Betty," I reminded him. "Betty."

"Will you have some more lemonade, Buzz?" I smiled.


Chapter 2

A little background.

I was your typical housewife. You know, the traditional bored variety.

I had everything a woman is supposed to have to be happy. A nice house in the suburbs. A hard-working husband. Two healthy c***dren.. A stationwagon in the garage for my own use. A generous household allowance.

And, of course, I was thoroughly miserable.

I wanted to fly, not have my feet planted firmly on the ground. And the new permissiveness of the 1970's had not made my life any easier.

I would watch these talk shows. You know, the ones with Masters & Johnson and Xaviera Hollander on them, and think. Is this all there is? There's something missing in my life.

For all our prosperity, my life was devoid of excitement. When all was said and done, I was just a glorified maid. The sum-total of my existence was wrapped up in cleaning and cooking and meeting the demands of other people.

What about me? What about Betty?

I'd had such romantic dreams when I'd married. I'd been certain that Ted was my Prince Charming. That we would always be blissfully happy.

But living happily ever after just occurs in fairy tales, as I'd ruefully learned. Life is a struggle, even for a member of the American middle-class.

Especially a female member.

Your k**s, your husband-they've all got the outside world to go to. But a housewife? She's stuck.

The home is like a prison. More and more lately, my goal had been to break out.

But how?

For all my complaining, I still loved my husband and k**s. The last thing I would ever do was abandon them. Somebody had to take care of them, and that was my job.

If there was only some way I could still be a wife and mother and get my kicks at the same time. Some way for me to achieve inner fulfillment as a woman, while still caring for my family.

I was sitting around thinking about this after Buzz had left. There was a ton of laundry to be done, floors to be waxed, and grocery shopping to be done, but my sanity was at stake. And something told me that the answer to my dilemma might be wrapped up in my adventure with the teenage gardener.

My interlude with Buzz had .. been unique because, while it was happening, I had actually been spiritually and emotionally transported away from my daily drudgery. I had always assumed that if I ever had an affair I would be consumed by guilt. On the contrary, however, I felt especially good about what I had done.

In fact, if the truth were known, I couldn't wait to try it again.

Maybe, I dared to think, this is the answer. Fooling around. After all, hadn't I seen so-called experts on television talk shows maintaining that extramarital sex could sometimes help a stagnant marriage? I hadn't believed them up until now, but maybe....

I mean, no marriage was more stagnant than Ted's and mine.

And I had to admit, Buzz had made me feel fantastic. What could possibly be wrong with that? With feeling good for a change?

Then, as I sat there pondering my situation, it began to dawn on me. If I had the courage to go and follow my instincts, there was a way out of my domestic prison. And, best of all, I didn't even have to physically leave it. I could still do the cooking, cleaning, and all the rest of it, and he happy besides.

"A secret life," I whispered the logical alternative in awe. "Nobody will know but me. Nobody will be hurt."

I quickly convinced myself that it could only help the family. If I was happier, then it only stood to reason that Ted and the k**s would be happier. And, who knew: my sex life with my husband might even improve.

Feeling like a new woman for having arrived at this conclusion, I jumped out of my chair and charged into my household duties. The quicker I polished them off, the sooner I would be free to plunge into my new life-style. Euphoric with my dramatic decision, I was already horny again, even though I had just finished fucking a teenage boy.

The laundry and the floor-waxing went easier than they had in years. I just whizzed right through them. In a couple of hours I had completed these tasks, and still had most of the afternoon in front of me. Only grocery shopping remained, and in its case I had decided to combine business with pleasure.

In the past I had always done my marketing at a nearby shopping center, where everyone knew me. Now I drove across town, looking for a store where no one would recognize me. Needless to say, I had more on my mind than roasts, detergents and vegetables.

I found what I was looking for in the frozen foods section-and I'm not talking about TV dinners. There was an incredibly handsome man there, looking at the meat pies. Immediately I wanted him.

"Are you a bachelor?" I sidled up next to him and broke the ice. "You don't see many men in the supermarket at this time of day."

He laughed, making himself even more attractive. "No, my wife and k**s are out of town. I'm having to take care of myself for the first time in years."

"Maybe I could help you," I said. "If there's one thing I know about, it's shopping for groceries."

"All right," he agreed. "What's better-the beef or the turkey pies?"

"Neither," I laughed. "The best I can say about any of this stuff is that it'll keep you alive. Since you're on your own, why don t you treat yourself to something special. A fling."

"I never thought of that," he shook his head. "Why not?"

"Come on," I took him by the hand. "I'll show you where the fresh meats are. And the vegetables. Cheeses. And how about a bottle of wine?"

I was charmed by his enthusiasm. By the time I had helped him fill his cart with goodies, he was bubbling with excitement, just like a k**.

"I think I'll go right home and cook all of this stuff," he said. "I can't wait to eat it."

"Oh, do you know how to cook?"

His ecstatic expression abruptly drooped.

"What's wrong?"

"I forgot about that detail," he muttered. "Cooking. I'm afraid I can't even boil water. All this food will go to waste once I put my hands on it."

It was time to make my move. "I'm not doing anything this afternoon," I said. "How about if I tag along with you and cook it for you? After all, I talked you into buying all this stuff-the least I can do is show you what to do with it."

A man doesn't often receive an offer like this. I could tell it made him nervous, but my persistent smile melted his apprehension.

"Okay," he finally went along with my suggestion. "I guess I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth."

I followed him to his place in my car. He lived in a suburb on the other side of the city from mine. In other words, the location was perfect, nobody would know me there. When I finally left, nobody would know that I bad been in his house but him and me.

Once we were inside his ranch-style home, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Actually I didn't have to use the toilet, but I was anxious to remove my underthings. When I made my move, I didn't want any bra or panties in the way.

Out of the bathroom, I marched right into the kitchen and prepared a gorgeous meal. Maybe I wasn't the greatest cook in the world, but I poured whatever I had into this one.

We ate heartily, polishing off the bottle of wine in. the process. We were both feeling exceptionally comfortable when we sat down on the sofa for after-dinner conversation and drinks. Considering the good time we were having, there seemed nothing out of the ordinary that we were sitting so close together we were touching.

He'd said his name was Hank. Maybe it was an alias for the occasion, I don't know. I say this, because I'd told him my name was Andrea instead of Betty. Andrea sounded sexier, and besides it would further obscure my actual identity.

"Whew," Hank exhaled, "I can't remember when I've eaten so much. I feel as though I've gained ten pounds."

I looked down at his belly. Sure enough, it was straining at his belt with all that food inside it.

"Why don't you loosen your pants," I cunningly suggested. "I'll understand."

Ordinarily I suppose he would have looked at me askance. However, Hank had a half a bottle of wine and most of his after-dinner drink inside him, so his inhibitions were considerably diminished. He didn't even mind when I undid his belt for him and unsnapped his trousers.

"There," I said. "I'll bet that feels a lot better."

"Thanks," he grinned, "it sure does."

I engineered a pause, during which I looked at his lap. Then I struck: "I know something that would feel even better. Especially with your wife away, and all."

"You're the boss," he grinned some more.

There was no point in saying it. I just did it.

Before Hank could guess my intention, I dropped my hand into his lap and unzipped his fly. I had his cock out before he could move.

It was a big one-just like I'd planned on. It wasn't hard yet, but I had plans for that, too.

"Wha-what are you doing?" Hank stammered, but he certainly didn't sound as though he wanted me to stop.

"Just think of it as an after-dinner treat," I cooed, and then dropped my face to his crotch. The first taste of his prick made me orgasm all by itself.

He squirmed on the sofa, but he didn't try and move away. And even if he had been so disposed, he couldn't have my oral grip had already descended halfway down his quickly stiffening shaft.

I sucked his cock all the way down to his nuts. Nuts that were now out in the open and churning.

"Mmmmm," I announced when he was fully erect. "I love your prick. I hope you'll like my pussy. Lord knows, ft's wet enough."

He automatically reached for the crux of my thighs. I had manipulated him into a position that by now no red-blooded male could resist. When I pulled up my skin, my bare twat was there waiting for him and he was a goner.

"Stick your fingers inside," I told him. "I'll suck your cock some more while you fingerfuck me."

I didn't wait for an answer. Hungry for prick, I closed my lips over his standing organ once again and swallowed it to the hilt. At the same time, Hank introduced three of his fingers into my slit and began probing.

We kept this up for several minutes, getting hotter and hotter. By the time we decided to go on to better things, my mouth was working like an oral cunt and Hank had his entire hand in my creaming snatch.

"Time to fuck." I released his hard-on. "My pussy s so hot I think I've got blisters on my thighs."

Hank was breathing hard, too aroused to talk. His wordless reply to my proposal was to grab my blouse and rip it from my torso. Here my bra-less condition paid off, as my lover was presented with the immediate sight of my bare, bobbing breasts.

"How do you like my tits?" I proudly inquired, noticing that my turgid nipples resembled fresh strawberries.

Still mute, Hank thrust his face between my heaving jugs and clasped them to his cheeks. While he was doing this, I grabbed his stiff cock and began pulling it toward my fuck-hungry cunt.

"Do it to me, Hank!" I implored. "Fuck me while you're eating my tits!"

As I slid down on my back, Hank worked his way between my legs. Right away the head of his prick rubbed against my ultra-sensitive labia, searching for the dewy slit of my soul.

"Stick it in!" I cried. "Jesus, I want it so bad!" He gave it to me. With a violent pelvic surge, Hank rammed his tool to my depths on the first try. I wiggled my ass from the tight, tight fit.

Now we really began fucking. All the while Hank kept his mouth on my tits, using his tongue and lips all over their tingling expanse-especially the nipples.

I wrapped my legs around him, making his phallic penetration even deeper. Hank's cock felt even bigger than Buzz's had. I couldn't help but wonder if he made love to his wife with as much passion as he was doing to me, a complete stranger.

The head of his cock was maddeningly chafing within my womb. Hank's teeth were gnashing against one nipple and then the other. I was experiencing orgasm both downstairs and upstairs.

And now it was my lover's turn to come.

"Let go, Hank!" I screamed. "Fill my pussy with your hot, sticky jizz!"

His cock lurched within me, seeming to penetrate all the way to my spine. I wouldn't have been surprised if his phallic lunge had cracked my vertebrae. Hank's big moment was here.

"Oooooohhhh!" he released the air from his lungs, as he simultaneously released the cum from his nuts. There was an explosion between my legs and my cunt was abruptly swamped.

I scissored bun, trying to tighten the muscles of my pussy so I could keep all of his glorious gunk inside me. It was so hot-felt so good-I didn't want to sacrifice a drop of the precious fluid.

But there was too much of it for one woman to hold. After it had engorged every nook and cranny of my fuck-canal to the depths of my uterus, the cum-flow reversed direction and came spewing out. In fact, the force was so great that Hank's prick was pushed out of my cunt in the outpouring.

Suddenly my thighs were awash with the milk of my lover's seed. I was hemorrhaging with sperm.

Orgasming to the point of delirium, I twitched and writhed until I toppled off the sofa. When I came up for air, I was on my knees and looking straight at the vertical smile of flank's prick.

Yes, yes, his cock was still as hard as ever. So far he was matching the teenage Buzz in sexual energy. I just knew his wife couldn't do this for him..

I kissed his prick, lapping away the gooey remainder of his first ejaculation. Then I said: "How do you want to fuck me next?"

He looked at me as though he'd just discovered buried treasure. Obviously Hank hadn't been getting many offers like mine from his wife lately.

"Wh-where would y-you like it?" he self-consciously stammered, apparently unable to believe his good fortune in hooking up with me at the supermarket.

"Wherever you feel like sticking that great big prick of yours," I left it up to him. "Anywhere and anyway you want to fuck me is what's going to make me come the most. All I want to do is please you.

He slipped off the couch and joined me on the floor. "I-I've always w-wanted to do t-this," he muttered, placing his hands on my shoulders and forcing me down to my elbows so I was on all fours, resembling a bitch in heat.

When I was positioned in the way he preferred, he moved around behind me. There, he sunk his fingers into the crack of my ass and pried my buns apart. I could feel his hot breath wafting against my exposed anus, as he poked his face in for a close peek at my most intimate orifice.

Then there was a finger, a finger probing my rectum. Sliding within me and wiggling around. I felt an immediate spasm all the way up to my colon.

"More fingers," I pantingly told him. "Spread the hole apart so your dick will fit when you get ready to fuck me."

Two, three fingers crammed within my tight shit-pit. The two outer ones spread, whit the third pushed forward. I moaned with pleasure.

When Hank removed his fingers from my asshole, I told him to lick it. "Make it sloppy with your spit," I instructed. "The wetter you make it, the easier your dick will slide in."

At last he was ready for the phallic descent. It was his cockhead between the cheeks of my ass now, and it was knocking at my door.

"Shove!" I screamed, wanting it as badly as I'd ever wanted anything in my life.

"Ooooommph!" he grunted, and his dick took over. It jammed inside me like a spike, ripping up the narrow canal to my bowels.

"Deeper! Deeper!" I begged. "All the way!"

Even with the preparations, it was an extremely tight fit, Hank's cock was so big. However, neither of us would accept anything but the ultimate. This meant he had to keep pushing and straining, and I had to endure a pain so intense it felt as though I were being disemboweled.

I loved it. God, it hurt so good!

Then, when I could feel his balls roiling against my backside, I knew we had done it. Hank was fucking my ass to the hilt. Now it was time to relax and enjoy it.

He was even better at cornholing me than he'd been servicing my pussy. His huge cock felt even more immense and longer in my anus than it had a notch below. And the friction created by his steadily pumping motion was an orgasm-giver of a stellar degree.

I couldn't see the action, so I closed my eyes and imagined it. Imagined the sight of Hank's stiff dick whipping in and out of my tightest orifice. My anal ridges tugging like a noose around his pistoning shaft. His balls contracting and contracting, drawing up within him as they prepared to force the cum out with their extreme pressure.

I wanted to scream, sing, cry, bay at the moon. Shout to the world that at last I had found a to get what I deserved out of life.

"Come! Come!" I gave in to my desire to let it verbally all hang loose. "Come, you big-cocked bastard!"

Hank responded to my epithet as I'd hoped he would. The more passionate the lovemaking, the more vigorously the partners seem to respond to obscenity. I'd learned that lesson by talking dirty to Buzz, and now I was going to the well again with my second fling of the day.

"I want your cum!" I shrieked. "Fill my ass! Cum from your big, big prick, son of a bitch!"

"Whore!" Hank got into the swing of things. "Only a filthy whore likes it in the ass!"

"Right!" I readily agreed, at the top of my lungs. "I'm nothing but a whore, and you're my fucking pimp!"

That bit of spontaneous invective turned the trick. Hank's prick expanded that extra bit so well known to women as the harbinger of ejaculation, and then did its duty.

This time the cum seemed like shrapnel, as it tore into my tenderest depths. Having your womb flooded with jizz is one thing; but the irrigation of your colon is something even more. It feels like someone has poured hot lead up your ass.

Once again I tried to keep it all inside me. And, once again, it was impossible.

The flow dramatically reversed itself, squirting out with even more intensity than it had entered. For the second time during a fuck, Hank's hard-on was expelled by the pressure. Cum was shooting from my ass through the air, and then pooling as it landed on the floor.

When it was finally over, Hank's cock was finally wilting. Well, he's no teenager, I thought, but he makes up in quality what he lacks in quantity.




"Sure," he beamed. "I think I could drink the whole pitcher."

"Please do. After all, I made it just for you."

Within ten minutes all of the lemonade-and the vodka contained therein-was gone. To my delight my teenage gardener was laughing and flushed.

Stumbling over his words. drunk. And vulnerable. "Hadn't I better get back to work, Betty?" he asked.

"Oh, take your time," I replied. "You still look kind of bushed. Why don't I sit down on the couch next to you and you can tell me a little about yourself. I always like to know a little something about the boys who work for me.

Before he could think about it, I had walked across the room and slipped down beside him. Our thighs were pressing and I could feel how strong he was.

"Are you active in any sports, Buzz?" I started the interrogation innocently enough.

"Yeah," he smiled proudly. "Basketball."

"You don't seem that tall," I cooed, rubbing his leg.

"Well, I'm a guard. You don't have to be too tall to play that position."

"Do you score a lot of points?"

"I averaged fifteen last season."

"Do you mind me rubbing your leg?" I abruptly changed the subject.

"Uh, no-no," he boyishly stammered. "It feels good."

"Would you like to rub my leg, Buzz?"

"C-could I? I-I mean, do you think it would be all right?"

"It would be perfect."

Then I pulled up the hem of my skirt to show him it would be. When he hesitated I gently seized his wrist and plopped his hand on my exposed thigh.

His rubbing was kind of hesitant, so I decided to give him a little encouragement. "Would you like to go higher, Buzz?"

"I-I beg your pardon,"" "Betty," I-firmly insisted. "You-you re sure you don't mind, Betty?"

"I'd be offended if you didn't, Buzz."

To emphasize my eagerness, I lifted my skirt even higher. The crotch of my panties was now showing it was damp.

Buzz's fingers began to trek up the inside of my thighs. A tingling sensation was rippling through me, making my pussy even wetter and causing my womb to spasm. I was orgasming just from his mere touch.

He stopped his digital probe just short of my snatch. While, on the one hand I appreciated his politeness, on the other hand, I was disappointed he wasn't more aggressive. I had already made up my mind that I was going to fuck him, and the fact that he wasn't as determined as irritating.

"Would you like to feel my cunt, Buzz?" I came right out with it. "I'll play with your cock if you

Nice boy that he was, he was struck dumb, of course. This suited me just fine because it gave me the opportunity to completely capture the initiative. If I had to **** him to get his cock in my pussy, I'd do it.

Guiding his fingers into the well of my crotch, I used my free hand to unzip his fly. To my delight Buzz wasn't wearing any underwear. His cock came springing out like the blade of a knife. God, it was hard!

The instant his exposed hard-on had thrown all pretense asunder, Buzz gouged his fingertips into my snatch. Pushing the panties into my crack, he began vigorously feeling me up the way he might some date in his carat the drive-in movie.

"I could get naked," I played my ace in the hole. "Then you could take off your pants and make love to me.

"You mean, f-f-fu. .."

"Yes, Buzz, fuck me," I sweetly smiled. "I'd love to feel your big cock in my tight cunt. We could go into my bedroom and do it on the bed. I'd wrap my legs around you and give you the ride of your life."

drunkenness destroys the inhibitions of even the most decent people. And Buzz was as drunk a young man as he was a decent one. Under the circumstances, I had made him an offer he couldn't refuse.

I led him to the bedroom by the hand. Then, when we got there, I quickly shucked my clothes. His eyes practically bugged out of his head at the sight of my glistening twat and heaving tits.

"I'll take off your pants for you," I said. "I don't want anybody touching that big cock of yours except me."

While he stood there mute, I undid the waist and pulled the jeans down his legs. Then, as he stepped out of the pants, I smeared his prick and nuts with kisses, unable to refrain from orally caressing them.

When I had tasted enough cock and balls to hold me, I jumped up on the bed. There I flopped on my back and spread my legs. The reek from my open cunt made my nostrils flare. This was the first time in my life I'd ever been so horny I cold actually smell myself.

"Get up on the bed with me," I took advantage of my seniority to command.

As though he were my robot, Buzz complied. He was so obedient. I knew I could make him do anything to me that I wanted-nothing like my damned husband.

Buzz's eyes bulged at the sight of my open cunt, and his mouth watered. Best of all, though, an anticipatory pearl of cum appeared at the tip of his dick. I chuckled to myself, knowing there was plenty more jizz where that came from and that I was going to get it all.

"Stick your fingers inside my pussy and get enough juice to grease your cock," I instructed.

His hand was shaking, but he did it. I must have deposited six ounces of female cream on his probing fingertips. And come at least three times in ten seconds from his brief touch.

Now he smeared the frothy results all over his hard-on. The organ gleamed like it was made of metal. It was so slick with my fluid that penetration would be quick and sweet.

I couldn't wait!

"Fuck me!" I moaned and cried at the same time. "Stick your big, hard cock in my pussy and fuck me until I scream!"

However, to my dismay, he started to fumble. Apparently he wasn't as experienced as I had assumed.

"You're a virgin, aren't you, Buzz?" I stated the obvious.

His embarrassment was acute. He turned a vibrant shade of red that would have looked great on my living room curtains. I hadn't counted on taking his innocence.

"Don't you have any girlfriends?" I asked him.

"Y-y-yes," he stuttered, "but they won't let me go all the way.

"Then you just masturbate?"

"All the t-t-time," he nervously acknowledged.

"How many times can you come without stopping, Buzz?" I found myself asking.

"Three-four," he hung his head. "I know I shouldn't, but . . ."

"There's nothing to be ashamed of," I reassured him. "You have to relieve, the pressure somehow. I'm just giving you a better way. There's no problem."

His blush dissolved. "Gee, Mrs., uh-Betty. You make me feel good."

"Not as good as you're going to make me feel when your cock is inside my cunt and you're fucking me, Buzz," I etched the bottom line. "Now let's stop talking and break you in as a man. What do you say, Buzz?"

What he said was a gurgling series of excited incoherencies. I was giving him the opportunity that every cherry teenage boy dreams of and we both knew it.

"Fuck me, Buzz! Fuck me hard!"

I grabbed his dick and guided it between my spread legs. The instant his cockhead flattened against my damp labia he was completely and utterly mine. Buzz's virginity was soon to be a thing of the past.

"Stick it in!"

His pelvis lurched as though it had a mind of its own. I was instantaneously penetrated. The walls of my pussy fluttered and then opened for mare.

"Shove!"

Buzz grunted and lurched. Lubricated with my juice, his prick surged into the sexual maw of my being. I could feel it burrowing into my womb. The next time I glanced between my legs there was nothing but his balls showing.

"Move your ass!"

He began rotating his hips in the classic motion, fucking me to the hilt. A salvo of orgasms immediately hit me, making me whimper with joy and wrap my legs around him.

I pulled him to my groin tighter and tighter. His cock was probably ten inches long, but I made it feel as though it were at least a foot. Since my husband's was a puny specimen of not more than six inches, and this was my first affair, this was the most phallus I'd ever had within me in my life.

In a way, I was losing my virginity, also.

I shoved my mouth to his ear and began muttering obscenities. That's how aroused I was in this, my first extramarital fling. I had no restraint.

I must have moaned the word 'Fuck' a hundred times, as I flooded Buzz's consciousness with my filthiest thoughts. I told him to split me in two with his immense cock; screw me until he killed me; fill me with his young, sweet cum.

He responded as I'd prayed he would-fucking me harder and harder. After the pathetic efforts of my husband, the lovemaking powers of a teenage boy were a breathtaking revelation.

When Buzz came, it was an explosion. And I'm not speaking figuratively. His prick literally erupted within my pussy.

All of a sudden I was flooded with jizz. It was hard to believe that so much of it could be the result of one boy's ejaculation. This k** had been starved for his first piece of ass, and, thank God, I was the lucky recipient. I couldn't help but wonder how many other cherry teenage boys there were out there who needed me to break them in to the ways of fucking.

However, best of all, when Buzz stopped spurting, his dick was still as hard as ever. The shooting of his first wad in a woman's cunt had just been foreplay. We were just beginning, as the excess sperm began dribbling from my cock-engorged snatch.

Like a tireless machine, Buzz just kept right on screwing me. A whole new wave of orgasms hit me during this second onslaught of cock. I was determined to match him stroke for stroke;

The bed was shaking like it never had during my married life. It took a teenage boy in place of my husband to make the springs sing.

During the peak of his stabbing penetration of my cunt, I put my hand against the back of Buzz's head and shoved his face to my breast. "Eat my tits!" I commanded him.

His mouth found one of my nipples and began sucking like crazy. The nubbin of flesh was erect to begin with, but now it became positively rock-hard. I felt as though I had a miniature hard-on growing from my chest and that he was giving it a blow-job.

When Buzz got around to the second nipple, the thrill was even more intense. This k** could suck!

And, down below, he was constantly proving his ability to fuck. The second time around was even more splendid than his initial effort. Despite the theoretical odds against it, I just knew that his repeat ejaculation would be even more copious than his first.

It was. His cock grew that tell-tale extra inch which signaled the approach of his orgasm, and then flew apart at the seams with liquid goodness. A molten flow was cascading to my furthest depths. My womb was flooded.

"God, can you fuck!" I complimented him, however Buzz was too excited to verbally respond. Yes, you guessed it, his dick was still as hard as ever, all the sex maniac wanted was more of my oh-so-willing body.

This time I would give myself to him with a difference. My cunt had had enough for a while. After all, I had other holes to satisfy.

"Fuck me in the ass!" I pleaded. "It's even tighter than my pussy."

Before he would have blanched or blushed, but now my Buzz was in the groove. Like a pro, he yanked his stiff prick from my thoroughly drenched twat and dropped it a notch to my second fuck-hole. My anus was throbbing and red, eagerly waiting for his insertion.

His inner descent was even stronger than it had been in my pussy. My asshole was narrow, but not so narrow that he couldn't prong me to the ultimate on his first try. All of a sudden my guts were on fire and Buzz was buggering me to the absolute hilt.

"Faster! Faster!" I screamed, begging him to transform his cock into a piston. I wanted him to shake my shit loose from its moorings.

I've told you how Buzz handled himself like an expert, even though he'd obviously had no experience cornholing. Now it's time to blow my own horn.

That's right. I was as inexperienced with ass-fucking as my teenage lover. My husband's idea of so-called love-making was purely slam-bam-thank-you-ma'am. Ted would have no sooner taken the time to experiment with my asshole than he would have to sit down and figure out Einstein's theory of relativity.

Yet, despite my lack of anal battle stripes, I handled myself like a professional call girl who specialized in such perversion. The deeper Buzz pronged my butt with his knife-like cock, the deeper I wanted him to go. The pain drove me wild with joy.

"Come!" I screamed. "Come in my ass! Fill my ass with cum!"

I reached down and squeezed his balls. They were churning to begin with. By the time I finished clamping down on them, they were ready to turn themselves inside out.

The jizz came hissing out of Buzz's hard-on. I still swear that I could actually hear it, even though the head of his prick was buried almost a foot in my ass.

All of a sudden I was the orgasming recipient of a sperm-enema. The spunk tore into my colon, displacing the crap and making me joyously bloated. My climactic response was even greater than it had been the two times Buzz had irrigated my pussy.

Of course I couldn't hold it all. Just as in an enema, the hot, frothy liquid eventually came pouring out with as much force as it had entered me. Suddenly I was spraying Buzz's gruel all over the bed, climactically voiding my bowels.

The bedding was a mess. While we writhed and twisted, we literally sloshed in the outpouring that had drenched everything beneath us. The room reeked of sex.

Buzz had come three times within mere minutes. Oh, these teenage boys, they were everything popular mythology purported them to be.

Needless to say, I was burning with desire to see if he could accomplish a fourth outpouring.

And what better way to find out than to offer him a fresh hole? My mouth.

Pulling his still dribbling tool from my ass, I begged Buzz to fuck me in my face. "I'll swallow every drop if you can come again," I promised him.

He fell across my head, his pubic hair scratching my eyes and nose. Wrapping around his turgid shaft, my tongue drew him into nip oral cavity, sucking in inch after inch of phallic hardness.

This was my first real taste of his cock. I'd briefly kissed it before, but this was the first time I'd had the whole thing inside my mouth. The taste made me giddy.

I wanted Buzz to literally fuck me in the mouth, and he did. Laying his loins across my face, he slammed his pelvis into my face, while the head of his prick probed the depths of my spasming esophagus. I loved it!

I squeezed his balls before, so now I put my fingers to work on an even more stimulating task. Sliding them up the sweaty crack of his ass, I found his anus and quickly penetrated it with two hooked digits. His prostate was there waiting for me, a throbbing lump at the bottom of his shit-pit that begged to be kneaded.

I had never done any of this before. My husband was always too much in a hurry to get his chauvinist rocks off for me to take the time to blow him, let alone fingerfuck his ass. I had never dared try anything out of the ordinary with Ted for fear that he would be furious. Jesus, no wonder I was so sexually frustrated.

Buzz and I were breaking ourselves in together in the fascinating byways of lovemaking. I had learned what I had always suspected: that there's more to lovemaking than just getting it over with. And my teenage lover was learning that an alder woman has as much or more to offer in the sack than those stuck-up cheerleaders he'd probably been wasting his time fantasizing over.

He fucked my mouth deeper and deeper, harder and harder. I'd have a sore throat for a week. Every time I coughed from the soreness, I'd think of Buzz.

My fingers in his ass had been a forked eagle's talon all along-now they became the twin prongs of a gaffing hook. I was digging down into Buzz's anal meat as though I were trying to pull his prostate gland from his body. Imagine the manufacture of blessed sperm this must have engendered.

He was moaning and groaning. . Then he began Snorting like an enraged dragon. Buzz was practically breathing fire, he was so hot.

Incredibly, his cock grew. Now it wasn't just in my throat, but extending into my abdominal entrance.

I was enough of a woman to know what this meant-coming. My teenaged lover was on the brink of a fourth ejaculation.

And this time I would literally feast on the results!

I pulled my fingers from his ass as though I were extracting the cork from a bottle of warm champagne. There was a loud pop. A cascade ensued.

Cum poured into my stomach; quenching the thirst I had harbored for so long. I had imagined what the male elixir tasted like for so long-but I had never anticipated anything so intoxicating. Had I been an alcoholic, I could have cured myself of the addiction to alcohol by switching to sperm.

There had been too much jizz for my cunt and ass to hold. But not my mouth. I retained every drop. of the wonderful stuff, sucking it all down like I had a vacuum cleaner imbedded in my stomach.

"Four times," I added up the score when Buzz finally withdrew from my face. "You came in me four times. You can mow my lawn anytime you want to, stud"

Chapter 2

A little background.

I was your typical housewife. You know, the traditional bored variety.

I had everything a woman is supposed to have to be happy. A nice house in the suburbs. A hard-working husband. Two healthy c***dren.. A stationwagon in the garage for my own use. A generous household allowance.

And, of course, I was thoroughly miserable.

I wanted to fly, not have my feet planted firmly on the ground. And the new permissiveness of the 1970's had not made my life any easier.

I would watch these talk shows. You know, the ones with Masters & Johnson and Xaviera Hollander on them, and think. Is this all there is? There's something missing in my life.

For all our prosperity, my life was devoid of excitement. When all was said and done, I was just a glorified maid. The sum-total of my existence was wrapped up in cleaning and cooking and meeting the demands of other people.

What about me? What about Betty?

I'd had such romantic dreams when I'd married. I'd been certain that Ted was my Prince Charming. That we would always be blissfully happy.

But living happily ever after just occurs in fairy tales, as I'd ruefully learned. Life is a struggle, even for a member of the American middle-class.

Especially a female member.

Your k**s, your husband-they've all got the outside world to go to. But a housewife? She's stuck.

The home is like a prison. More and more lately, my goal had been to break out.

But how?

For all my complaining, I still loved my husband and k**s. The last thing I would ever do was abandon them. Somebody had to take care of them, and that was my job.

If there was only some way I could still be a wife and mother and get my kicks at the same time. Some way for me to achieve inner fulfillment as a woman, while still caring for my family.

I was sitting around thinking about this after Buzz had left. There was a ton of laundry to be done, floors to be waxed, and grocery shopping to be done, but my sanity was at stake. And something told me that the answer to my dilemma might be wrapped up in my adventure with the teenage gardener.

My interlude with Buzz had .. been unique because, while it was happening, I had actually been spiritually and emotionally transported away from my daily drudgery. I had always assumed that if I ever had an affair I would be consumed by guilt. On the contrary, however, I felt especially good about what I had done.

In fact, if the truth were known, I couldn't wait to try it again.

Maybe, I dared to think, this is the answer. Fooling around. After all, hadn't I seen so-called experts on television talk shows maintaining that extramarital sex could sometimes help a stagnant marriage? I hadn't believed them up until now, but maybe....

I mean, no marriage was more stagnant than Ted's and mine.

And I had to admit, Buzz had made me feel fantastic. What could possibly be wrong with that? With feeling good for a change?

Then, as I sat there pondering my situation, it began to dawn on me. If I had the courage to go and follow my instincts, there was a way out of my domestic prison. And, best of all, I didn't even have to physically leave it. I could still do the cooking, cleaning, and all the rest of it, and he happy besides.

"A secret life," I whispered the logical alternative in awe. "Nobody will know but me. Nobody will be hurt."

I quickly convinced myself that it could only help the family. If I was happier, then it only stood to reason that Ted and the k**s would be happier. And, who knew: my sex life with my husband might even improve.

Feeling like a new woman for having arrived at this conclusion, I jumped out of my chair and charged into my household duties. The quicker I polished them off, the sooner I would be free to plunge into my new life-style. Euphoric with my dramatic decision, I was already horny again, even though I had just finished fucking a teenage boy.

The laundry and the floor-waxing went easier than they had in years. I just whizzed right through them. In a couple of hours I had completed these tasks, and still had most of the afternoon in front of me. Only grocery shopping remained, and in its case I had decided to combine business with pleasure.

In the past I had always done my marketing at a nearby shopping center, where everyone knew me. Now I drove across town, looking for a store where no one would recognize me. Needless to say, I had more on my mind than roasts, detergents and vegetables.

I found what I was looking for in the frozen foods section-and I'm not talking about TV dinners. There was an incredibly handsome man there, looking at the meat pies. Immediately I wanted him.

"Are you a bachelor?" I sidled up next to him and broke the ice. "You don't see many men in the supermarket at this time of day."

He laughed, making himself even more attractive. "No, my wife and k**s are out of town. I'm having to take care of myself for the first time in years."

"Maybe I could help you," I said. "If there's one thing I know about, it's shopping for groceries."

"All right," he agreed. "What's better-the beef or the turkey pies?"

"Neither," I laughed. "The best I can say about any of this stuff is that it'll keep you alive. Since you're on your own, why don t you treat yourself to something special. A fling."

"I never thought of that," he shook his head. "Why not?"

"Come on," I took him by the hand. "I'll show you where the fresh meats are. And the vegetables. Cheeses. And how about a bottle of wine?"

I was charmed by his enthusiasm. By the time I had helped him fill his cart with goodies, he was bubbling with excitement, just like a k**.

"I think I'll go right home and cook all of this stuff," he said. "I can't wait to eat it."

"Oh, do you know how to cook?"

His ecstatic expression abruptly drooped.

"What's wrong?"

"I forgot about that detail," he muttered. "Cooking. I'm afraid I can't even boil water. All this food will go to waste once I put my hands on it."

It was time to make my move. "I'm not doing anything this afternoon," I said. "How about if I tag along with you and cook it for you? After all, I talked you into buying all this stuff-the least I can do is show you what to do with it."

A man doesn't often receive an offer like this. I could tell it made him nervous, but my persistent smile melted his apprehension.

"Okay," he finally went along with my suggestion. "I guess I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth."

I followed him to his place in my car. He lived in a suburb on the other side of the city from mine. In other words, the location was perfect, nobody would know me there. When I finally left, nobody would know that I bad been in his house but him and me.

Once we were inside his ranch-style home, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Actually I didn't have to use the toilet, but I was anxious to remove my underthings. When I made my move, I didn't want any bra or panties in the way.

Out of the bathroom, I marched right into the kitchen and prepared a gorgeous meal. Maybe I wasn't the greatest cook in the world, but I poured whatever I had into this one.

We ate heartily, polishing off the bottle of wine in. the process. We were both feeling exceptionally comfortable when we sat down on the sofa for after-dinner conversation and drinks. Considering the good time we were having, there seemed nothing out of the ordinary that we were sitting so close together we were touching.

He'd said his name was Hank. Maybe it was an alias for the occasion, I don't know. I say this, because I'd told him my name was Andrea instead of Betty. Andrea sounded sexier, and besides it would further obscure my actual identity.

"Whew," Hank exhaled, "I can't remember when I've eaten so much. I feel as though I've gained ten pounds."

I looked down at his belly. Sure enough, it was straining at his belt with all that food inside it.

"Why don't you loosen your pants," I cunningly suggested. "I'll understand."

Ordinarily I suppose he would have looked at me askance. However, Hank had a half a bottle of wine and most of his after-dinner drink inside him, so his inhibitions were considerably diminished. He didn't even mind when I undid his belt for him and unsnapped his trousers.

"There," I said. "I'll bet that feels a lot better."

"Thanks," he grinned, "it sure does."

I engineered a pause, during which I looked at his lap. Then I struck: "I know something that would feel even better. Especially with your wife away, and all."

"You're the boss," he grinned some more.

There was no point in saying it. I just did it.

Before Hank could guess my intention, I dropped my hand into his lap and unzipped his fly. I had his cock out before he could move.

It was a big one-just like I'd planned on. It wasn't hard yet, but I had plans for that, too.

"Wha-what are you doing?" Hank stammered, but he certainly didn't sound as though he wanted me to stop.

"Just think of it as an after-dinner treat," I cooed, and then dropped my face to his crotch. The first taste of his prick made me orgasm all by itself.

He squirmed on the sofa, but he didn't try and move away. And even if he had been so disposed, he couldn't have my oral grip had already descended halfway down his quickly stiffening shaft.

I sucked his cock all the way down to his nuts. Nuts that were now out in the open and churning.

"Mmmmm," I announced when he was fully erect. "I love your prick. I hope you'll like my pussy. Lord knows, ft's wet enough."

He automatically reached for the crux of my thighs. I had manipulated him into a position that by now no red-blooded male could resist. When I pulled up my skin, my bare twat was there waiting for him and he was a goner.

"Stick your fingers inside," I told him. "I'll suck your cock some more while you fingerfuck me."

I didn't wait for an answer. Hungry for prick, I closed my lips over his standing organ once again and swallowed it to the hilt. At the same time, Hank introduced three of his fingers into my slit and began probing.

We kept this up for several minutes, getting hotter and hotter. By the time we decided to go on to better things, my mouth was working like an oral cunt and Hank had his entire hand in my creaming snatch.

"Time to fuck." I released his hard-on. "My pussy s so hot I think I've got blisters on my thighs."

Hank was breathing hard, too aroused to talk. His wordless reply to my proposal was to grab my blouse and rip it from my torso. Here my bra-less condition paid off, as my lover was presented with the immediate sight of my bare, bobbing breasts.

"How do you like my tits?" I proudly inquired, noticing that my turgid nipples resembled fresh strawberries.

Still mute, Hank thrust his face between my heaving jugs and clasped them to his cheeks. While he was doing this, I grabbed his stiff cock and began pulling it toward my fuck-hungry cunt.

"Do it to me, Hank!" I implored. "Fuck me while you're eating my tits!"

As I slid down on my back, Hank worked his way between my legs. Right away the head of his prick rubbed against my ultra-sensitive labia, searching for the dewy slit of my soul.

"Stick it in!" I cried. "Jesus, I want it so bad!" He gave it to me. With a violent pelvic surge, Hank rammed his tool to my depths on the first try. I wiggled my ass from the tight, tight fit.

Now we really began fucking. All the while Hank kept his mouth on my tits, using his tongue and lips all over their tingling expanse-especially the nipples.

I wrapped my legs around him, making his phallic penetration even deeper. Hank's cock felt even bigger than Buzz's had. I couldn't help but wonder if he made love to his wife with as much passion as he was doing to me, a complete stranger.

The head of his cock was maddeningly chafing within my womb. Hank's teeth were gnashing against one nipple and then the other. I was experiencing orgasm both downstairs and upstairs.

And now it was my lover's turn to come.

"Let go, Hank!" I screamed. "Fill my pussy with your hot, sticky jizz!"

His cock lurched within me, seeming to penetrate all the way to my spine. I wouldn't have been surprised if his phallic lunge had cracked my vertebrae. Hank's big moment was here.

"Oooooohhhh!" he released the air from his lungs, as he simultaneously released the cum from his nuts. There was an explosion between my legs and my cunt was abruptly swamped.

I scissored bun, trying to tighten the muscles of my pussy so I could keep all of his glorious gunk inside me. It was so hot-felt so good-I didn't want to sacrifice a drop of the precious fluid.

But there was too much of it for one woman to hold. After it had engorged every nook and cranny of my fuck-canal to the depths of my uterus, the cum-flow reversed direction and came spewing out. In fact, the force was so great that Hank's prick was pushed out of my cunt in the outpouring.

Suddenly my thighs were awash with the milk of my lover's seed. I was hemorrhaging with sperm.

Orgasming to the point of delirium, I twitched and writhed until I toppled off the sofa. When I came up for air, I was on my knees and looking straight at the vertical smile of flank's prick.

Yes, yes, his cock was still as hard as ever. So far he was matching the teenage Buzz in sexual energy. I just knew his wife couldn't do this for him..

I kissed his prick, lapping away the gooey remainder of his first ejaculation. Then I said: "How do you want to fuck me next?"

He looked at me as though he'd just discovered buried treasure. Obviously Hank hadn't been getting many offers like mine from his wife lately.

"Wh-where would y-you like it?" he self-consciously stammered, apparently unable to believe his good fortune in hooking up with me at the supermarket.

"Wherever you feel like sticking that great big prick of yours," I left it up to him. "Anywhere and anyway you want to fuck me is what's going to make me come the most. All I want to do is please you.

He slipped off the couch and joined me on the floor. "I-I've always w-wanted to do t-this," he muttered, placing his hands on my shoulders and forcing me down to my elbows so I was on all fours, resembling a bitch in heat.

When I was positioned in the way he preferred, he moved around behind me. There, he sunk his fingers into the crack of my ass and pried my buns apart. I could feel his hot breath wafting against my exposed anus, as he poked his face in for a close peek at my most intimate orifice.

Then there was a finger, a finger probing my rectum. Sliding within me and wiggling around. I felt an immediate spasm all the way up to my colon.

"More fingers," I pantingly told him. "Spread the hole apart so your dick will fit when you get ready to fuck me."

Two, three fingers crammed within my tight shit-pit. The two outer ones spread, whit the third pushed forward. I moaned with pleasure.

When Hank removed his fingers from my asshole, I told him to lick it. "Make it sloppy with your spit," I instructed. "The wetter you make it, the easier your dick will slide in."

At last he was ready for the phallic descent. It was his cockhead between the cheeks of my ass now, and it was knocking at my door.

"Shove!" I screamed, wanting it as badly as I'd ever wanted anything in my life.

"Ooooommph!" he grunted, and his dick took over. It jammed inside me like a spike, ripping up the narrow canal to my bowels.

"Deeper! Deeper!" I begged. "All the way!"

Even with the preparations, it was an extremely tight fit, Hank's cock was so big. However, neither of us would accept anything but the ultimate. This meant he had to keep pushing and straining, and I had to endure a pain so intense it felt as though I were being disemboweled.

I loved it. God, it hurt so good!

Then, when I could feel his balls roiling against my backside, I knew we had done it. Hank was fucking my ass to the hilt. Now it was time to relax and enjoy it.

He was even better at cornholing me than he'd been servicing my pussy. His huge cock felt even more immense and longer in my anus than it had a notch below. And the friction created by his steadily pumping motion was an orgasm-giver of a stellar degree.

I couldn't see the action, so I closed my eyes and imagined it. Imagined the sight of Hank's stiff dick whipping in and out of my tightest orifice. My anal ridges tugging like a noose around his pistoning shaft. His balls contracting and contracting, drawing up within him as they prepared to force the cum out with their extreme pressure.

I wanted to scream, sing, cry, bay at the moon. Shout to the world that at last I had found a to get what I deserved out of life.

"Come! Come!" I gave in to my desire to let it verbally all hang loose. "Come, you big-cocked bastard!"

Hank responded to my epithet as I'd hoped he would. The more passionate the lovemaking, the more vigorously the partners seem to respond to obscenity. I'd learned that lesson by talking dirty to Buzz, and now I was going to the well again with my second fling of the day.

"I want your cum!" I shrieked. "Fill my ass! Cum from your big, big prick, son of a bitch!"

"Whore!" Hank got into the swing of things. "Only a filthy whore likes it in the ass!"

"Right!" I readily agreed, at the top of my lungs. "I'm nothing but a whore, and you're my fucking pimp!"

That bit of spontaneous invective turned the trick. Hank's prick expanded that extra bit so well known to women as the harbinger of ejaculation, and then did its duty.

This time the cum seemed like shrapnel, as it tore into my tenderest depths. Having your womb flooded with jizz is one thing; but the irrigation of your colon is something even more. It feels like someone has poured hot lead up your ass.

Once again I tried to keep it all inside me. And, once again, it was impossible.

The flow dramatically reversed itself, squirting out with even more intensity than it had entered. For the second time during a fuck, Hank's hard-on was expelled by the pressure. Cum was shooting from my ass through the air, and then pooling as it landed on the floor.

When it was finally over, Hank's cock was finally wilting. Well, he's no teenager, I thought, but he makes up in quality what he lacks in quantity.

Chapter 3

I didn't realize how late it was until I got home. However, when I saw Ted's car in the driveway I knew it had to be after six.

Suddenly I panicked. I may have picked up a man at the supermarket, but I'd neglected to pick up any food. There was nothing for dinner tonight.

And if there was one thing Ted expected when he got home from work in the evening, it was dinner on the table by six-thirty. He was probably pissed off already, but he'd be furious when he found out I had nothing to serve him even late.

Sally, my daughter, was coming out the front door of the house as I started up the steps. I started to ask her where she was headed in such a huny, but she spoke first.

"Boy, Mom, are you gonna catch it," she said. "Dad's ready to strangle you for not having supper ready. Where've you been, anyway?"

She looked at me in a funny way when I didn't come up with an immediate answer. For a brief moment there, I had the notion that she suspected I'd been having an affair.

"And just where are you headed in. such a rush, young lady?" I finally found my tongue and verbally covered up my apprehension.

"Got a heavy date," she winked.

"But it's a week night, Sally," I pointed out.

"So what? There's no school tomorrow. It's summer-or have you forgotten, Mother?"

As a matter of fact, I had. I was very addled.

"Aren't you going to have any dinner, Sally?" I asked after an uncomfortable pause, during which my daughter stared at me as though I were most peculiar.

"What dinner?" she made me seem like a fool again. "Daddy wouldn't be raising the roof already if you'd fixed anything to eat. . The only thing that's going to be dished up around here tonight is a lot of yelling and screaming."

She was absolutely right, of course. "Okay," I acknowledged defeat, "go ahead and go. But where's the boy?"

"He's picking me up at Trudy Cooper's," she called over her shoulder. "We're doubling."

"Who's the boy?" I called back across the yard before she could get out of earshot.

"It's a blind date with a guy on the basketball team. He's a friend of Trudy's brother. I don't ordinarily go out with guys I don't know, but you know me-I just can't resist a jock."

And then she was gone. Alone, I stood on the porch trying to work up enough nerve to go inside and face my steaming husband. Now that I was no longer talking to Sally, I could hear him yelling all the way from the kitchen.

"Might as well go in and face the music," I sighed to myself. "It's time to get off the merry-go-round."

However, before I could open the door, it did so from the other side. Don, came bustling out in his customary all-energy fashion.

"Mom!" he blurted. "Where've you been?"

"That seems to be the $64 Question," I sighed some more.

"Dad's in there ready to kill you," my son reported, as if I didn't already know. "You know how he gets sometimes."

I certainly did. Ted was a good provider, but there were stings attached. The main one was that when he didn't get his way, he felt it was his God-given right to erupt like a human volcano.

"Where are you going?" I asked Don the same question I had asked his sister.

"Over to Butch Hobson's to spend the night," he answered. "His mother says it's all right-they're having hamburgers for dinner..

And they don't fight, I filled in the rest of it in my mind. Then, when I looked around, Don was gone, too. I felt like I was on a sinking ship.

There seemed no alternative but to go in. Maybe, I allowed myself some optimism, I can get a few drinks into Ted and cairn him down before he tears the house down.

He was thundering in the kitchen when I entered the house. Pots and pans were crashing, dishes breaking, as he apparently hurled them around the room to vent his anger. Since the kitchen was the room in the house most associated with me, it apparently made him feel better to wreck everything in it.

I took a deep breath and went in to confront him. "Okay, Ted," I said, "I'm here. You can stop breaking things and go to work on me, if it'll make you feel any better."

He turned; saw me, and practically breathed fire in my direction. Then he lunged at me with cat-like quickness and grabbed me by the throat before I could get away.

"This is too much, Betty!" he bellowed like an insane sea-lion. But there his words stopped. He was so angry that he couldn't talk any more.

"You're turning purple, Ted," I found the courage to point out. "Remember what the doctor said about your blood pressure. Especially when you borrowed on your life insurance to buy that boat."

That got him where he lived. The grip on my neck relaxed and I was able to wriggle free. "Come on," I tried to take advantage of the lull in his fury, "I'll fix you a nice, stiff drink. Then, while you're relaxing, I'll get busy on something to eat."

The last part was particularly skating on thin ice, since I didn't know if there was anything edible in the pantry. However, if I could get Ted calmed down, I could make the rest up as I went along. If I got him drunk enough, I might be able to get away with peanut butter sandwiches.

Quickly I had Ted in a chair and switched on the television set, so I could keep him occupied while I poured him a double slug of bourbon. I hoped one of his favorite cop shows was on. blood and guts always seemed to have a calming effect on him.

I was in luck. Something even more violent than a cop show was on. The news. They were showing a live-action tape of the bloodbath surrounding today's skyjacking. Terrorists were being mowed down all over the screen, to Ted's immediate glee. Finding the bottle of whiskey, I filled a water glass two-thirds full of straight poison and shoved it in my husband's hand while he drooled over flying bullets. After he took a big gulp, he became as placid as a kitten.

Now I excused myself and went into the kitchen to try and find something to fix for dinner. Unfortunately, I put Mother Hubbard to shame. The cupboard was more than bare, it was barren. We were even out of Wonder bread and Skippy peanut butter. There wasn't even a stale Twinkie in the house.

"M