by Vivi King
practice, just in case,” I added cheekily.
Tony made a big deal of looking down at his groin where little was stirring.
“In a minute or two we might try again,” he grinned cheekily. “If your Little Pink Pussy doesn’t mind another visit from my cock, of course.”
“My Little Pick Pussy would love a visit from your cock again,” I said archly; my pussy was indeed an angry, over-used pink as was Tony’s flaccid cock. “When your little friend down there is good and ready.”
“Perhaps if you helped wake him up a little?” Tony smiled innocently.
Taking my cue with a broad grin, I slipped down Tony’s body to the place where his short, stubby cock was struggling into life. Barely semi-erect, it twitched as it lay across his pubic triangle, glistening with the sticky combination of my own juices and his semen.
Even then I couldn’t believe how such an ugly appendage could produce such extraordinary sensations when thrust in and out of the place in my body for which it had been created. But the last three months had proved without a doubt that it could; Tony’s oh-so-thick cock could produce in my married, cheating loins feelings that after twenty monogamous years, my husband’s long, slender shaft couldn’t even approach.
I took the half hard phallus in my fingers, toying with it, running my fingertips up and down its sticky length, cupping the full sack at its base and pulling back the skin to reveal the smooth end in its purple-pink glory before finally taking it into my mouth.
The sour, earthy second-hand taste of my own vaginal juices made me wince at first, but I persevered, running my tongue up and down the underside of his shaft, from his sack to his tip and back, then along the ridge between the smooth end and the thick, undulating shaft.
A pocket of my own strong-tasting juices awaited my tongue there too, making me shiver again. How it was that my lover and my husband could get such pleasure out of filling their mouths with such bitter-tasting fluids was beyond me. I was just very pleased that they did.
Never a big fan of fellatio, my skills in that department were more workmanlike than inspired but they were having the desired effect. Much, much thicker than my husband’s, I could feel Tony’s cock swelling in my mouth, its floppy shaft gradually becoming firmer and firmer as it prepared itself for the important task of penetrating my vagina.
As it rose to its full length and sturdy girth, Tony lifted my head away from his groin and rolled me gently onto my back. My legs opened wide almost of their own accord, giving him plenty of room to mount me as he wished. Tony rose over me for the umpteenth time, his knees between mine, his arms either side of my shoulders.
“She looks a bit sore,” he said, inspecting the rather red triangle between my thighs.
He was right; she was indeed sore and stretched but at that moment, pain didn’t matter. All I wanted was more of the same.
“Then you’d better be gentle with her,” I teased.
In the end, gentle was the last thing Tony’s cock was. Though his penetration was slow and careful, the speed and power of his strokes escalated quickly. Within minutes he was thrusting in and out of my sore, over-stretched vagina hard and fast as if trying to fuck my ancestors rather than just me, their adulterous descendent.
I came hard, despite or maybe because of the pain, wailing into the pillow, raking his chest with my fingernails so hard they drew blood from around his left nipple. My body shook as the bedsprings groaned and bounced, slamming my hips upwards to meet his powerful downward strokes until finally his face turned into an ugly grimace and he began to cum in me once again.
His long, strong body crushed me into the mattress as the last drops of semen were pumped against my cervix and his cock gradually softened inside me. As I drifted off into a doze, my soft, feminine body bruised and exhausted but comfortingly full of a strong man’s seed, all I could hear was a dreamy female voice saying three simple words over and over again.
“I love you I love you I love you!”
I fell asleep, dimly aware that something had just changed.
***
When I woke it was morning. Tony was lying next to me, watching me with adoration in his eyes. We made love again, slowly and lingeringly, both of us sore but unwilling to miss what might be our last opportunity of the overnight stay.
This time we both murmured those three magic words as our bodies merged together.
After our bodies had reluctantly separated, for half an hour and in a dazed, post-coital state we had talked about our love; how wonderful it would be if we could live together; how extra-ordinarily compatible we were in bed and in life; how painful it was to have to separate straight after our lovemaking; how sweet our lives could be if we were together all the time not just for the stolen hours we currently spent fucking.
From there it was only a short journey towards imagining how we might make it actually happen. Before I realised how far things had got, we were planning how we would leave our spouses and move in together, getting married as soon as our divorces came through.
We then fucked wildly and madly one last time like two demons possessed, the breeding frenzy taking me to new levels of animal lust.
It was utter, utter madness; a castle built on sand but for us, in that room, on that day it seemed real.
I should never have let it happen! If I had kept to the once-per-week fuck-sessions Pete had agreed then everything would have been alright. If I hadn’t piled deception upon deception and had kept things as physical as they had started, things might have been different.
It wasn’t as if it was a surprise; seeing too much of one fuck-buddy and falling in love with him was one of the biggest dangers every single one of my online cuckold friends had warned me about.
But I hadn’t listened; Penny always knew best! Stupid woman!
***
I returned to my husband that evening, battered, sore and very unsettled. I had to keep up the pretence that I had been at the conference again which was difficult given my heavy preoccupation but I couldn’t let Pete find out just how far my deceit had gone.
The dilemma prevented me sleeping for the next three nights too. On the one hand, there was no doubt that I loved my amazing husband. There should have been no question; I should choose him over my lover without hesitation. I had promised to do nothing less but...
But on the other hand, I was unquestionably having the best sex of my life with a man I loved, who loved me too and wanted me to marry him.
There was no doubt at all that I still loved my husband so how could I love Tony too? Could I be in
love with them both at the same time? Was that even possible? I had already proved that a woman could fuck two men at the same time but surely love was different.
I couldn’t live with them both, that was certain so what could I do? There was no answer to that question that wouldn’t hurt at least two of the three of us.
***
By late Sunday morning, twenty four hours had passed and two dozen messages from Tony had arrived since he and I had kissed each other goodbye as we left the hotel. They were almost all on the same theme; when could we spend yet more time together? When would I tell Pete how we felt about each other? When could I move in with him?
I had replied as evasively as I could and made as few promises as I could but there was no denying the way my heart felt, however clearly my head told me otherwise. And as for my sore vulva, well that was sending its own messages loudly and clearly!
Despite my best efforts at behaving normally, Pete had noticed a marked change in my manner over the weekend. I had been at best, detached, at worst bad tempered and impatient with him and things had not gone well in bed. As a result we had not made love on Saturday night which was a blessing; my body still bore far too many signs of the excessive penetrations from Tony it had enjoyed over the last two days.
I knew it was unfair on Pete but I couldn’t help myself. Several times he asked me what was wrong. I tried to deflect his questions with other
questions but he had been very persistent so I had resorted to rudeness.
There was a serious conversation approaching; I could feel it but wasn’t ready to face it yet.
Meanwhile, having had one highly successful illicit assignation on a Saturday morning instead of going to the gym, it was perilously easy to arrange another. Memories of all Tony and I had said to each other during our romantic Valentine’s stay remained with me, reinforced by the continual stream of messages we exchanged on my secret phone.
The momentum was gathering. On the one hand I had my wonderful husband of over twenty years, the father of my three children, the man who loved me enough to let me have a free hand in my sex life; the man who trusted me enough to let me go to my lover in the belief I would return.
On the other hand, there was my lover; a man who had shown me better, more exciting sex than I
had imagined existed; who had changed the way in which I saw my life, my future and myself. A man who had said over and over again that he loved me and wanted me to move in with him, leaving all of my previous humdrum life behind to join him in a world of hot passionate sex.
And I was stupid and arrogant enough to believe the choice was mine and mine alone!
On Tuesday evening I went to Tony’s apartment again instead of going to the gym. The same happened the following Saturday morning despite having had my ‘Official Date’ on Thursday evening in between. Although I had allowed Pete free access to my soiled body afterwards and had watched him eating his regular creampie from between my thighs, I did not reach orgasm under his tongue and had to resort to my dubious acting skills to make things appear normal.
The following Tuesday and Saturday saw me repeat my unofficial visits to Tony’s apartment, becoming so blasé that I no longer worried about parking around the corner. Anyone who knew me could have seen my car parked in the car park for a couple of hours each day.
Tony was away on business the following week so both my official and unofficial dates had been impossible. Consequently I was feeling very sexually frustrated and excited when I drove round to his apartment the following Saturday morning dressed in my gym kit.
I told myself once again that hadn’t actually lied to Pete; I had just changed into my sports clothes and left the house. If he chose to believe I was going to the gym that was his decision.
The problem was that with perfect timing, one of my unreliable periods had arrived that very morning. I had messaged Tony to warn him that there would be no penetrative sex that day but he had insisted we could ‘find another way’ to pleasure each other.
After a barren, sexless week I was nearly desperate to see him again but at the back of my mind was the worrying thought that the ‘other way’ he had in mind might be anal sex. Pete and I had tried it once; it had been a disaster, hurting us both even with Pete’s slender erection and had put me off the whole idea ever since. Tony’s cock was much, much thicker; it would not be entering my rectum that morning however hard he tried to persuade me.
When I walked excitedly through the door, we had fallen on each other, our mouths and tongues locking together while Tony’s fingers working their magic on my boobs, buttocks and vulva through my tight-fitting gym clothes, bringing me to a state of arousal in which I might almost have done anything for him.
Almost.
Sensing my near-desperation, Tony did indeed suggest that we gave my back door a try. Despite my arousal I was firm and rejected the idea but either I wasn’t clear enough or he had more tenacity than I had expected.
“You’ll love it,” he smiled persuasively, running a finger along the cleft between my buttocks.
“Please Tony! I’m not keen,” I insisted, not wanting to confess Pete and I had tried and failed.
“It gets better with experience too,” he continued. “Lots of women get more out of it that straight sex.”
“You know a lot of women who take it up their bottoms?” I challenged jokingly.
“I know at least one,” he replied then seemed anxious that he had given away a secret.
It took a moment for the penny to drop,
“You mean you and Julie...?”
He nodded, surprisingly embarrassed.
“We’ve done it for years. She really likes it, especially....”
“Especially when she’s on her period?”
He nodded again.
This was yet another shock. Julie had been my closest friend; with her butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her- mouth prettiness, it suggested innocence and naivete rather than sexual adventurism. I had already learned that her sex drive was so strong that she had routinely fucked her husband throughout her periods; that had been a big surprise in itself. The image of that pale, delicate body with Tony’s thick stubby cock thrust into her rectum was even harder to contemplate.
“I know what I’m doing Penny. It won’t hurt, I promise.”
“I’m sorry Tony, it’ not for me; at least not today okay?”
Whatever his professed abilities, this time I was firm; there was going to be no anal sex for me that day.
If I’m honest, the idea had always fascinated me; it certainly wasn’t something I never wanted to try but the circumstances – and the proposed cock - would have to be right. If my husband’s slim erection had been so painful, the ‘right cock’ was definitely not Tony’s thick shaft so I crossed it firmly off the menu.
But having arrived in his apartment and become so aroused, I couldn’t offer Tony no sexual liaison at all and desperately needed some relief myself. An acceptable alternative would have to be found. In my menstrual state I didn’t want Tony’s mouth anywhere near my vulva so there was only one alternative; I would have to dust off my teenage oral skills and give my lover the best blowjob I could manage.
And I would have to do it quickly or else I might weaken. The look of disappointment of his face was almost funny.
“Don’t look so disappointed,” I said in a ‘talking to baby’ voice, taking his fingers in mine and drawing him closer. “I’m sure we can find a way to ease your frustration.”
Tony smiled then looked surprised as I cupped the bulge in his jeans. It was already firm; the mere thought of anal sex was clearly a massive turn on for him.
“Come on,” I said in as alluring a voice as I could manage, leading him into the lounge where I pulled him towards the large floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the car park, the neighbours’ apartments and the formal gardens.
The sofa on which we had made love so many times stood at an angle to the window. I quickly pushed it round so that it stood with its back to the glass, the cushions facing into the room.
“What are you doing?” Tony asked, intrigued as he stood in the window, clearly visible to anyone watching from below.
“Just come here,” I said archly.
Tony obediently walked around the sofa until it stood between him and the window.
“What are you up to, Penny?” he smiled.
Without a word I dropped to my knees in front of him then, looking up into his puzzled eyes, I pulled my gym top up and over my head, leaving me in my sports bra. Then, as sexily and lingeringly as I
could manage, I rolled the tight bra upwards and away, leaving me on my knees, topless at my lover’s feet.
“Wow! You are a minx, Mrs. Barker,” Tony breathed, stroking me under my chin with his fingers.
If my calculations were correct, my entire body would be hidden from the window by the sofa but Tony’s whole upper body could be seen by anyone in the car park or in the opposite apartments. I silently prayed they were correct; if not a number of my lover’s neighbours were about to have their Saturday morning enlivened by a rather startling scene.
My hands rose to his waist and I began to fumble with his belt buckle. Tony tried to help but I batted his hands away and continued until both the belt and waistband had been unfastened. Then, gazing upward deep into his eyes, I lowered his jeans slowly to his ankles.
The bulge in his briefs was v
ery large and, with my head merely inches away, very threatening. Despite having felt it inside me countless times, I still felt nervous as I eased the elastic waistband downwards over his tight, athletic buttocks and carefully clear of the thick, rounded, still-swelling head of his cock.
“Jesus!” I gasped as, freed of its constraints, Tony’s thick shaft sprang forward, catching me by surprise and nearly poking me in the right eye. “That was close!”
“That’s your fault, Mrs. Barker,” Tony said in a soft, breathless voice. “What do you expect me to be like when the sexist woman in the world is on her knees like a slut in front of me.”
I looked up into his eyes again, seeing a level of lust that was new and thrilling; hoping desperately that my oral skills could deliver even a fraction of the pleasure his look was demanding. Fellatio hadn’t featured strongly in my sex life since I had lost my virginity and discovered the sheer unworldly delight of being inseminated so I felt very much out of practice.
Steeling myself and trying desperately to remember the few techniques I used to know when I was younger, I took the huge thick shaft in my right hand and began to pump my fist up and down his short shaft, slowly at first then slightly faster and with a firmer grip.
“Mmmm! Mrs Barker,” Tony hummed. “You’ve been practicing!”
I smiled up at him again then somewhat anxiously and with my left hand cupping his balls, opened my lips and took the head of his cock into my mouth.
It had been so long since I had knelt and sucked a cock that I had to think hard to remember how to do it properly. I knew several of my early boyfriends used to love what I did but over the years I had got out of practice. Now, with the thickest cock I had ever encountered in my mouth, I had to remember fast but to my relief, instinct took over and soon my mouth and tongue were all over and around the smooth, warm head of Tony’s cock.
“Oh that’s good!”
Encouraged by the noises from above my head and trying to remember the few porn films I had seen in my life, I began to work my right hand and mouth together up and down his shaft while my left hand cupped and massaged his tight scrotum.
