Even tasted second-hand, the flavor of a young boy's fuck-juice drove her wild.

Sticking her tongue out, Wanda began to lick the cum up greedily, shifting from wall to wall and bending down to lap some from the floorboards.

She scooped up a mouthful of cum and let it trickle around in her mouth, savoring the taste and the texture, then she swallowed it and tongued up more.

She gave her lapper a rest while she frigged her frantic fuck-hole for a while, then she got her head down and sucked up more jizz from the mattress.

She couldn't believe how much cum there was.

Of course, she didn't know that, along with Johnny's recent supply, she was drinking a lot of cum that Bill Evans had deposited in the past, the long-congealed stuff liquefying again in her hot mouth.

Eventually, she had licked it all up, and left the wood and the mattress and even the pictures glistening with her saliva – and lots of pussy-nectar, too.

She left the tree house finally and returned home, where she hid the dildo away and waited impatiently for Hank to get home from work.

Hank Sands was surprised when, with a passion rare even for his horny wife, she met him at the front door and fucked him in the hallway.

And that was only for starters. Wanda fucked her husband before dinner, during dinner, and for dessert. She was insatiable that evening.

Hank, in blissful ignorance of the cause, could only assume that this was how his wife reacted when he neglected to give her her customary morning fuck.

He figured he might leave her horny again, if this was the reception he got later.

And through all the marital mating, Wanda was thinking about that afternoon and remembering how Johnny Howard had jacked off so often and how, afterwards, she had tasted his sweet boy-cum.

And how she hoped that the handsome youngster visited the tree house again.