No

"Babe, I'm home," Matt called out loudly as he walked in through the front door.

Emerging from the kitchen, drying her hands with the hem of her apron, Holly started towards him. He practically ran over to her, wrapping his arms around her and covering her mouth with a deep kiss. As his hands grabbed her butt-cheeks, her hands pushed against his chest.

"Whoa! Calm down, cowboy," she panted, trying to catch her breath. "We have a guest."

The look of frustration and disappointment on his face spoke volumes, but Holly continued lightly. "Don't be like that. She came over just to show you a shirt she bought today. Sharon!"

Learning that it was the wife of his best friend changed his attitude, and when she strutted out of the kitchen, Matt burst out laughing. The tall, slender woman had on a pair of high-heels, a tank-top, and a pair of red bikini bottoms. The shirt had printing on it: Stop Staring At My Pussy.

"I don't stare at your pussy," he protested his innocence.

"You most certainly do," Sharon insisted. "Every time I adjust my bikini bottoms, you are craning your neck, trying to sneak a peek."

As she spoke, she lifted her shirt and ran her thumbs around the top of her bikini bottoms, pulling the front down and away from her crotch in order to reposition the triangle of cloth.

"There," she laughed as she pointed her finger accusingly at him. "You did it again."

"Well . . . well . . . stop adjusting your bottoms," he replied lamely.

"Honey," Holly touched her husband's shoulder, "Why don't you go get comfortable and then come out and tell Sharon and me all about the modeling session?"

Every since the pool party, 'getting comfortable' in the Foxx household meant Matt stripping naked and hanging out that way. Sharon's sultry eyes stared at Matt in anticipation, and he felt himself developing an erection. He hurried to the master bedroom, returning in less than two minutes.

"Oh, my!" Sharon giggled when Matt strode in wearing just a pair of flip-flops, "He is hard already."

She gave his erect dick a playful swat and the stiff organ bounced as if spring-loaded.

"If that thing goes off, you'd better be careful where you aim it," Holly warned as she continued preparing the salad. Almost immediately she swore and started removing her apron. "I am out of oregano. I'll be back shortly."

Matt offered to get dressed and go for her, but she insisted that he stay and entertain their guest. "After all," she said as she took the car keys off the rack by the door, "I imagine you had a . . . hard . . . day."

And in a flash, she was gone.

"Wonder what that was all about," Matt mused as he took a beer from the refrigerator. It was unlike Holly to run out of anything, she was always so meticulous in her planning. And it was unlike her to just dash off when they had a guest over.

"That . . . was all about your wife's sense of fair play," Sharon answered as she walked over in her high heels. Calmly curling her fingers around Matt's erection, she added, "She had asked Dylan to come by while you were at art class to help her do something in the garden."

Matt stared down at that soft fist gripping his cock. A soft fist that slowly started stroking back and forth. Taking a swig of his beer, he told her to wait. Disengaging himself, he went over to lean against a countertop, his erection poking up in the air. "O.K.", he nodded.

Smiling at Matt feeling that he needed physical support, she once more rejoined him and clasped his cock again. "I don't know how long she'll be gone," Sharon said, as she pumped on his cock and slid her hand in between his thighs to cup his balls, "But don't hold back."

It was a needless admonishment. Sharon had not given Matt's shaft more than six strokes before he was shooting. Long, thin ropes of hot white sperm flew through the air to splatter onto the tile of the kitchen floor.

"Shit!" Sharon squealed, deftly jumping to one side to avoid being doused with cum. Fortunately for Matt, his friend's wife knew her way around a cock well enough not to let go. Indeed, she sped up her stoking and squeezed his nuts, helping him through his ejaculation.

When he finally stopped cumming, she released his softening cock and tore off a couple of sheets of paper towels. "I didn't mean you had to squirt right away," she laughed as she squatted down to wipe up the mess.

"S-sorry," he gasped breathlessly. "It's just that . . . I've spent all evening naked in front of a bunch of women. Being stared at by them."

Sharon tore off another paper towel and moisten it under the sink's faucet. "Aw, poor baby," she said in a teasing voice as she knelt back down in front of him. Lifting his now soft cock with two fingers of her left hand, she sponged down his organ, cleaning off any cum.