When I was a senior in high school, my hometown had a newspaper that came out in the afternoon five days a week and again on Sunday mornings. To avoid working at fast-food like my friends, I opted to be a paperboy, delivering the paper to about 100 homes in the ritzy part of town. It was the perfect after school job Monday through Friday. The money was great, the hours good and the rewards were more than a horny seventeen-year-old boy could dream of.

The Sunday paper is printed on Saturday night and rolls off the press around midnight. I convinced my folks to let me stay up late and deliver then, instead of getting up early. It was the perfect opportunity for some late-night mischief. And that's where this story begins.

The paper route was about a five-mile circuit and it kept me in rather good shape. I had long brown hair, a sleek upper body and muscular legs. I was right at six-feet tall and weighed in at 180 pounds. And since you're thinking about it, yes, I was pretty well hung for a teenager: my cut cock was a full eight inches when hard, which was most of the time. I had an extra dose of testosterone. Between jacking off solo and with others, getting blow jobs, and an occasional fuck, I was coming on average ten times a week during senior year. I could not seem to get enough of spewing my semen.

One sizzling summer evening, I had stripped down to just a pair of shorts and Converse to run the paper route. The last few papers had to be delivered down a long, sloping driveway between high shrubs that secluded the gated home sites with river views from the rest of the tony neighborhood. It was dark with no streetlights and only the full moon to light my way as a ran among the mansions. I dropped the heavy paper on the doorstep of one of the last houses when I heard a noise.

"Oh yes, baby, that feels so good." It was a woman's voice coming from around the back. I had to investigate.

There were only dim lights on inside the house, but there was enough for me to see where those moans were coming from. Peering in the sunroom that led out to the backyard pool, I saw the homeowners, Candace and Lance Johnson. They were both nude and Lance had his face buried in his wife's ample breasts.

"Bite my nipples, you hungry man," she said. "You know I want to feed you my tits. Ahh." Her back arched and she slid down onto the white leather sofa that faced the window right where I was standing. I ducked quickly and hoped she didn't see me as she slid into position for a tongue lashing from her husband, who spent three weeks each month on the road. I had often wondered about their reunions.

Mrs. Johnson—or Candi, as she insisted I call her when I stopped by to collect the monthly newspaper fee—was one of the favorite subjects of my fantasies. She was about five-foot, five-inches tall, slender and blonde. Her waist was skinny, her hips nicely flared and her tits, oh my god. Her tits. D cups at least. She had amazing green eyes and long curls that framed her round cheek bones. She was also so nice when I came by for money or when I ran through her yard. I'd get hard just talking to her. And if she had to bend over to get money out of her purse me or dig a cold drink out of the fridge, her perfectly round ass practically begged me to cum in my pants. Many times in my room at night, I’d close my eyes and stroke off thinking of sweet Candi. Her luscious body that was twice my age, a voice that both melted my heart and hardened my groin. I would picture her naked and I would unleash a torrent of hot cum on my teenage belly and moan, “Mrs. Johnson, oh baby, here is my cuuuummm for you!”

And now, here I was, staring at the real Mrs. Johnson, spread eagle on the sofa, pussy juice dripping from her well-oiled tunnel of love.

"Oh, my dear Candi," Lance moaned. "I have missed you so much. I can never get enough of you."

The man of the house sported a massive tool, even semi-hard, jutting straight out with its tip barely showing through the uncircumcised skin. His heavy balls hung low and swung as he dropped to his knees to get his unshaven face positioned between his bride's taut legs. Her wide hips and neatly trimmed pubes were an inviting site, and his cock grew longer - it had to be a foot long, I swear - pulsing in anticipation.

I found my own cock growing in my pants as I moved around the outside of the sunroom to find a better angle. As much as manly ass and erect penises turned me on, I really wanted to see Mrs. Johnson as her man licked her pussy.

When I found a new position for my peeping, I just had to relieve my throbbing dick from the confines of my shorts. I kicked them to the side and was naked except for my tennis shoes. I dropped the remaining newspapers to the ground. Work could wait.

My rod was at full staff and I spit on my hand to give it a little lube before squeezing the rock-hard helmet of my favorite tool. ""Fuck," I whispered to myself, hoping I could last long enough to get a good show of these two 30-somethings going at it on a Saturday night.

"Oh damn, honey," Candace called as she arched her back and squeezed Lance's head between her legs. "If you keep that up ... ahh, baby, oh yeah."

Lance's tongue battered her clitoral hood, swiping back and forth, applying pressure and darting inside her labia from time to time. His cock was concrete hard and he reached between his legs to give it a jerk. He grabbed his hairy balls and gave them a mighty tug. I felt my own cock surge with blood as I quickened the pace of my sensual beating.

"Baby," Lance said, standing up, his chin glistening with his wife's love juices. "I have just got to fuck you. I have been away from this wonderful pussy for too long."

"Make room for daddy."

He walked quickly on his knees until the tip of his foot-long schlong rested on her bulging clitoris. "I just have to have you," he gasped as he pushed the head down a couple of inches and it slid, with no hesitation, deep inside his wife's waiting orifice.

"Ahh, fuck," she said, moving her hips in a circular motion, forcing his bone to brush her clit and stretch her labia. "Yes, my love, hold it deep inside of me."

“Damn you, Candi. What a powerful cunt you have,” he said, tossing his head back, grabbing her hips tight and pushing his cock to the end of her carnal canal.

After a breath, his tight ass cheeks began to move back and forth, and my hand made a similar motion on my overheating cock. Candi quickly crested the orgasmic mountain.

"Yes, yes, yes," she cried, tossing her long hair from side to side, a look of passion that bordered on fear and anger crossing her face. "You fucker, push that cock deep in me. Let me feel that cock. Fuck me, you prick. Fuck my honey pot."

Lance did not disappoint as the juices of her pussy poured out of her slot and coated his cock with plenty of lube. He pulled nearly all the way out before slicing back down in the depths of her baby chute. Quickly he repeated the motion, his toes curling and his balls beginning to tighten.

Candi lay still, exhausted from her climax, as Lance pummeled away. "Yes, fucking yes," he said treating his beloved like a fuck doll. "Take my cum, bitch. Take my fucking c ...." and he howled like I had never heard a man before. Grunts and cuss words spewed out of his mouth as the molten cum from his balls did the same thing from the tip of his cock.

He pushed deeply and held his cock as far inside as he could. His ass was tight. Candi's legs were sticking straight up and a combination of cum and her lube leaked on the floor.

My own orgasm was nearing as I watched this sex act, and my hand went up and down my cock in a blur of enthusiastic jerking. The tug on my balls was suddenly upon me and the pre-cum began to offer its own bit of lube for my tight fist. I forced myself to be silent, and I let the cum fly, hitting the ground, the newspapers, and the side of the Johnson's house.

I was weak kneed and suddenly aware I was standing outside butt naked in the middle of the night. I quickly found and slid on my pants. Inside, the couple was resting on the floor. Cum leaked from her snatch and his flaccid cock rested on her tight. They both looked exhausted. "I bet if we have drink, we'll be ready for another round," Candi said. "Do you think you have it in you, Mr. Johnson. Would you like to plug me again?"

I saw his cock leap and begin to grow. "Who needs a drink?" he said.

As much as I wanted to watch, I needed to get home. I was already wondering who I could tell about what I just saw. I wondered who would believe me.