Chapter 7

A young female voice answered on the fourth ring.

Angela stammered: “Hello, wh-who’s this?”

“Joanne,” the girl replied, sounding like a teenager.

“I must have dialed the wrong number,” Angela said. “I’m calling Frank Whitmire.”

“You got the right number. Who’s this?”

“His wife,” she said uneasily.

“Ex-wife you mean.” The voice was smug and surly.

“Yes, just put Frank on, would you please?”

“I’ll see if he wants to talk to you.”

There was a long and dreadful moment of silence during, which Angela wondered what a young girl was doing in Frank’s room. The answer was obvious, but she didn’t want to believe it.

Then Frank came on the line, his voice gruff and impatient. “Yeah, what do you want?”

“Danny’s run away,” she blurted out with a sob. “With Yvonne, that platinum blonde divorcée who used to live down the street.”

“Good,” Frank replied. “Getting away from you is the smartest thing he could do.”

Angela sobbed. “Frank, I’m sorry. I know I’ve made a mess of everything, but I need your help.”

“My help? You need to see a psychiatrist!”

“Frank, I don’t even have money enough to put food on the table.”

“So why don’t you sell what you’ve been giving our son for the last several days,” he replied coldly.

“Please, Frank ... don’t do this to me. I’ve been shamed and hurt enough already.”

“Not enough to suit me, bitch!”

Her temper flared. “You’re no better! What’s that young girl doing there with you?”

“She’s restoring my faith in my manhood.” Frank chuckled. “I don’t need to tell you how exciting it is to have sex with a horny teenager.”

Angela shuddered and cried. “Frank, you can’t just dump me out like dirty dishwater-not after almost twenty years!”

“You’ve got the house, and all the furniture. What are you bitching about?”

“The house payment is due next week, and I won’t have money enough to pay it.”

“Good, when the bank kicks you out, I’ll buy the place again. I haven’t been able to find an apartment I like.”

“Why don’t you come home?” she pleaded tearfully.

“You know, I just might do that...”

“Oh, Frank! Yes, please do! I’ll make everything up to you.”

“You sure as hell will! Joanne is a runaway from a rich family and she’s used to having a maid.”

“Who cares about Joanne?”

“I do! If I’m coming home, she’s coming with me. You can stay on to cook, clean house and do the laundry.”

“Not for some young slut you’ve picked up!” she raged.

“It’s that or start selling your faithless cunt on the street,” he reminded her.

Angela felt her blood boiling, but there wasn’t much she could do. She couldn’t stand the thought of turning tricks, or going back to the diner and that sadistic big cock of Max’s.

“All right,” she said grudgingly. “We’ll be there in about an hour,” Frank said in a tone of triumph. “I’ll bring groceries so you can fix dinner. Meanwhile, move your shit into Danny’s old room. That’s where you’ll be staying.

“It’s yes, Mr. Whitmire, from now on,” he said, rubbing it in.

“All right!” she snapped. “Say it!”

“Yes, Mr. Wh-Whitmire.” She almost choked on the words. It was worse than when Max rammed his monster cock down her throat. Bitter humiliation was even harder to swallow.

Twenty minutes later, Angela grasped at a ray of hope as she was moving her things from the spacious master bedroom into the smaller one that had been her son’s. As long as she and Frank were in the same house again, she might win him back. She vowed to pamper him in every way possible, to be as appealing as she could and put his newfound young mistress to shame.

When she met Joanne at the door that hope was shattered like a window hit with a brick. She was gorgeous! A petite blonde with a voluptuous figure and silky blonde hair long enough to sweep across the crack of her ass when it swayed.

“I’m Joanne,” she said too sweetly. “And you must be the new maid.”

Angela’s face blushed red in a jealous rage but she said only, “Yes.”

Frank was standing right behind Joanne, handsome as ever and beaming proudly. “Come in, please,” Angela said.

Frank gave her a bag full of groceries.

“Have dinner ready by eight,” he said curtly. “I like my steak rare. Joanne wants hers medium. And there’s a can of spaghetti and meatballs for you.”

“I hate canned spaghetti,” she muttered.

“Yes, I know, but it’s the cheapest thing I could find and that suits you perfectly.”

“Bastard,” she mumbled.

“Come on, Joanne, I’ll show you the bedroom. With a maid to wait on us, we’re going to be spending a lot of time there.”

Joanne giggled impishly and took his hand. They walked down the hall and a moment later Angela heard Frank roar, “God damn it, Angela! The sheets are soiled. Change the bed and put on a fresh one, right now!”

“Yes, Fr-Mr. Whitmire!” Angela wasn’t sure bow much more of this she could stand. Max, his grubby dinner and his giant cock were looking better by the minute.

Frank and Joanne were both naked when Angela walked into the bedroom carrying clean sheets and pillow cases. She stopped and gawked, chilled by the sight, but neither of them paid the slightest attention to her.

Joanne was down on her knees, fondly stroking Frank’s cock and guiding it to her waiting lips.

“Oooh, Frank,” Joanne crooned, “I’ve never seen your cock so big and hard before.”

Angela just had to look, and she had to admit he’d never gotten an erection like that for her. Apparently the young blonde excited him more than she ever could. That added to her feelings of dismay.

She went to the work on changing the bed, but Angela found it hard to concentrate with that lewd little bitch noisily sucking her husband’s cock in the same room, bobbing her head so frantically that her long golden hair swirled as though in a high wind.

“Ooooh, baby,” he moaned. “What a great mouth you’ve got!”

Frank was kneading Joanne’s beautiful tits and rocking his hips to fill her throat.

Frank tangled his hands in her long golden hair, clenching them into fists as his excitement increased. He tugged her silky hair, yanking her head back and forth, rasping deep grunts of lecherous delight as he fucked her young face.

Joanne seemed to love it. She made delighted cooing noises in her throat and caressed his balls with wavering fingertips. Frank reached down and gave her firm tits a squeeze, then he laced his hands back of her head and roared as his cock twitched and spurted jism into her throat.

Joanne slurped and swallowed his cum, her throat writhing.

Angela watched the cords in the girl’s neck strain with the tension of ecstasy, how her flesh rippled lewdly and how her fingers kept teasing Frank’s balls to get more cream.

It made Angela sick with disgust and that pleased Frank as much as fucking the sexy young teen in the face.

“Hhhmmm, baby, that was great!” he said when she’d sucked him dry. “You get better every time.”

“I fuck better too,” Joanne said slyly. “Want to stick your cock in my pussy now?”

“Or maybe your ass. I love them both, you know.”

“Take your choice, Frank. I’m yours now.”

“I know that, sweetheart. And what a luscious little dish you are! Come here.” He clasped his hands on her ass cheeks and lifted her as a child would a doll.

Joanne giggled anxiously, spreading her legs to wrap them around his waist. She hugged his neck in a fevered embrace and he lifted her high enough to be seated on the head of his cock.

Angela saw that his cock was still hard and throbbing with lewd strength and she felt a chilling pang of envy.

He let Joanne down slowly, slipping his cock deeper and deeper into her blonde fringed cunt hole.

“Oooh, you’re got to be the sweetest, hottest little cunt I ever fucked. You’re like a virgin to me every time!”

“Oooh, Frank. You must have fucked me fifty times by now. How can I still feel like a virgin to you?”

“Because your pussy is so sleek and tight, just like it was when I popped your cherry!”

“Oh, I’ll never forget that! What a thrill it was to have a handsome grown man want to fuck me!”

“And mine is the only cock you want, right?” He supported her little ass and fucked her delightedly while standing up, both of them swaying on his strong legs.

“Yes, darling! You’re the only man I want! Mmmm, I just love what your cock does to me when we fuck this way!”

“Glad you aren’t like some cheating sluts I’ve known,” he said. Frank glared sharply at Angela as he spoke and watched her cringe.

“That kind of woman can’t keep a man for long,” Joanne said, “and I don’t want to lose you, Frank!”

“You won’t, baby. Not as long as you fuck this hot, ark! fuck only me!”

“Frank?” she purred in a kittenish tone of voice. “Will you fuck your finger up my ass? I like to have something in both of my holes at once...”

“I’ve got an even better idea. Angela, come here!”

“Yes?” Angela answered distractedly. The way the girl clung to him with arms and legs locked in a lewd embrace disgusted her.

“Yes, Mr. Whitmire,” Frank reminded her sternly. “Get down on your knees and tongue-fuck Joanne’s ass for me.”

“No,” she said flatly.

“Then pack your things and get the hell out of my house!”

“It’s as much mine as yours.”

“But you can’t pay for it, and if I tell a judge what you’ve done with our son, your room will be one at the county jail.”

Angela stood fuming, trying to make up her mind. She hated the thought of having to help excite Frank’s young whore, but she dreaded even more what might happen if she failed to please him.