When it was over, Kathy pulled the jockstrap away from her mouth. Something was caught between her teeth and she extracted it, holding it up to the light. It was a blonde hair from Randy Chapman's balls. She pulled her right hand, dripping with pussy-froth, away from her cunt.
What am I doing? she thought. What have I done? She glanced at the open bedroom door, once again expecting to see one of the Chapmans watching her.
Nobody was there. In the silence of the big house her heart sounded like a wildly pounding bass drum to her. She eased herself off the bed, pussycream dribbling down her legs like hot syrup. After drying the pussyjuice stain on Randy Chapman's bed with a hair drier, she fled for home.
CHAPTER THREE
Her cunt aching with need after Otto's usual two-minute pre-work fuck, Otto's cum sticky between her unsatisfied cuntlips, Kathy arrived at the Chapman residence at nine the next morning. She let herself in through the front door and went directly to the kitchen, where she found a bunch of dishes to be washed. She decided to wash them later.
Next, she went to the master bedroom and found the bed unmade and some dirty clothes left on the floor for washing. She would make the bed, wash the clothes, and clean up the downstairs, too – but later. She had something else on her mind at the moment. Her cunt craved release. She kicked off her shoes and walked barefoot up the plushly carpeted stairway to the second floor, ready for another jerk off session in Randy Chapman's bed.
Approaching the bedroom, she was startled to hear some noise, and her heart almost stopped. In her horny state, she'd never paused to consider that maybe she wasn't alone in the house. It hadn't occurred to her that Randy himself might still be home on this sunny summer morning. Ten feet from his open bedroom door, she froze, listening, ready to retreat and flee back down the stairs if need be. Then she heard Randy Chapman's voice.