by Reed James
“Take it, slut!” he hissed, staring out at the street, hoping someone would pass by. “You're just my cum dump.”
Cherry moaned louder, her fingernails biting into the meat of his ass.
Mrs. Rogers, walking her dog, passed on the sidewalk. She jumped when she saw him. He waved at her with one hand, still fucking his slave's mouth. His balls, slapping Cherry's chin, boiled as the woman's eyes seemed locked on his, her thighs shifting.
“Watch me fuck my whore,” he muttered, his strokes increasing, plunging his cock down her throat.
His cum boiled over as he stared at the housewife, her hand sliding down to absently scratch at the groin of her tight shorts. Hard pulses shot out of his cock, flooding Cherry's lips. She swallowed, moaning as he kept his cock buried in her mouth. Her fingers flexed on his ass as she drank his lust. A last jet pulsed, then he pulled out, his cock popping out of her lips.
“Thank you, Master,” she panted, smacking her lips.
He smirked and nodded at Mrs. Rogers and she started, quickly walking up the street, casting one last glance behind her. She had a great ass. Another hole that could help take the pain away in his chest. She probably cheated on her husband all the time. Every wife cheated. Grace. Cherry. Evie. They were all whores.
“I have a hot vid on my phone,” Cherry purred. “Steve and I had a lot of naughty fun on our vacation. Want to watch?”
Her hazel eyes danced with naughty delight. Watching a vid of Steve cheating on Cherry sounded like a great distraction. “Get your fine ass inside.”
She took his hand, pulling herself up and clung to him, her fragrant perfume wafting into his nose. He led her to the living room. They could watch anything in his bedroom but...the living room was better. She grinned at him as he settled on the couch, her hips swaying, popping back and forth in a pair of hot pants, she turned, presenting her bubbly ass, waving it in his face as she pulled off her top.
“You always treat me best, slave,” Frank grinned, his cock stirring back to life.
He reached out, giving her cheek a pinch. She spun around, her naked breasts swaying, almost as big as Grace's, and those fat nipples pointed right at him as her hips continued to wiggle. A beautiful, playful smile graced her face and those hazel eyes danced. She raised her hands over her head, really working her ass.
“Take it off. Let me see your cunt!'
“Yes, Master.”
Her hands slid down her body, so slow, squeezing her large breasts and thumbing her nipples, a soft sight escaping her lips, then she reached her shorts, hooking her fingers, her hips still shaking. She worked them off her golden skin—no unsightly tan lines to mar her flesh; Cherry had been naughty on vacation. Her shaved pussy came into view, fat pussy lips dark and damp.
His cock was half-hard.
“Ready for the vid, Master?”
“Fuck, yeah,” he grinned. Anything to forget his pain.
She pulled out her cell phone from her purse and flicked the TV on—this wasn't the first vid she'd streamed from her phone to Frank's TV—and tapped her phone's screen, her hips still swaying to the beat of some music only the honey-blonde bombshell could hear. “Steve whipped this up,” she grinned.
Her husband was a tech rep for the very company Grace's husband owned—Microtech—and was an absolute whiz with technology. A hotel room appeared on the screen and Frank recognized a nanny cam shot and smiled, remembering the time he and Cherry had watched Steve fuck Evie on a nanny cam.
The pain reared in his breast as Cherry plopped on his lap, wiggling her hips. On the screen, Steve entered the hotel room, a curvy Black woman on his arm gigging the way only a drunk gal can.
“I was hiding in the closet,” Cherry whispered. “I wanted to have a front row seat as my husband cheated on me.”
She squirmed, rubbing her wet pussy on his upper thigh as his cock swelled, pressing against her butt. He could feel her excitement grow as she watched her husband kissing the gorgeous, African American, his hands untieing her bikini top, exposing a large pair of tits, clearly enhanced as they defied gravity.
“Her poor husband went to bed early,” Cherry sighed. “She was out drinking with a few girls.”
“Yeah. Wives are like that,” he whispered. “You think she's out with a girlfriend and really she's screwing some guy.”
“Is that what Evie did?”
He swallowed. She looked over his shoulder at him, ignoring the loud sex on screen. Steve had wasted no time in plowing the drunk, Black wife, their passionate moans blaring from the speakers scattered throughout the living room.
“She...”
Her hazel eyes were gentle and understanding, drawing out his pain.
“She was supposed to go out with Grace. A girl's night.” The pain flared. He didn't want to share this. He wanted to keep his pain bottled up. “I thought it was harmless. But...”
“But she didn't go?”
“Grace came by today. Evie told her she was sick. So I...” He didn't want to cry in front of Cherry, so he force those tears back. “I checked her phone. It was plain as day what she did.” Those texts were burned in his mind.
Missing your big Black dick!!! Frank's ain't cutting it!
“I have a different vid to show you.” She touched his cheek, her fingers soft. “It was taken last night.”
She grabbed her phone off the couch cushion, making a few taps. A new vid appeared on the screen. Frank froze; Evie's face appeared. It was clearly recorded from her phone. He could see the top of the very blouse she had worn last night.
“I don't want to watch this,” he whispered, fear clenching him. He didn't need to see his wife cheating on him with that cop. He couldn't look away.
“Oh, my god, Frank,” his wife exclaimed on screen, a naughty gleam in her blue eyes. “You are going to love this! Grace lured out Officer Connoly and she is fucking him behind the bar.”
The camera flipped around to show Officer Connoly kissing Grace, his dark hands all over pale flesh. For a moment, he didn't understand. Well, no. She called and canceled our girl's night, Grace's words echoed in his head. Said she had come down with the flu. She was real sick and couldn't go out last night. And there was Grace, out with his wife last night. Frank's insides went cold, a new anger burned through him as it all crystallized in his mind. “That bitch,” he growled. “That goddamn, lying, conniving whore!”
“She was the one that texted the cop with Evie's phone,” Cherry whispered.
“Why?” The anger swelled inside of him, threatening to overwhelm him. “Why would she lie about that? Fuck! She set Evie up! Then came over here and lied about it! Why would she try to ruin our marriage?”
“I don't know,” a soft, beautiful voice whispered.
Frank flinched. Evie stood in the short hallway that led to the front door, her clothes disheveled, her makeup smeared, her blue eyes puffy, and yet she was so beautiful. He barely noticed Cherry slipping off his lap, didn't even understand what she murmured. He couldn't hear her over the pounding of his heart as he gazed at his wife.
The guilt crushed him.
He fell to his knees, crawling to her. “Evie,” he sobbed. “Oh, my god! I...Oh, fuck! I'm so sorry! She...” He stared at the carpet and her sandaled feet, struggling to speak. What could he say to her? Evie hadn't cheated on him. But he had cheated on her. He had believed Grace without even trying to talk to Evie. How could he ever take that back? God, how can I ever take back the vile things I said to her? “You're...not...” Sobs wracked him, cutting off his words. He had to speak, he had to take back what he had said. “You are...not a...whore.”
Soft hands cupped his cheek, lifting up his face. Evie was kneeling before him, her blue eyes swimming with tears. “I...I went to him,” she whispered. “After the fight. I...”
He pulled her tight against him, crushing his wife against his chest. Her arms encircled him, holding him. “Please forgive me, Evie.” He buried his face in her neck, her gentle hands stroking his naked back.
“I do,” she whispered. “Grace tricked you. And...I cheated, too. I fucked Officer Connoly after seeing you two today. I'm...” A sob escaped her lips.
“Doesn't matter,” he whispered. It didn't. How could he be mad after his greater crime? How could he have ever doubted her love? “I was a fool. I should have—”
Her lips found his and such passion burned in her kiss.
Chapter Three: Reassembly
Evie kissed her husband, her tongue thrusting into his mouth. She put all her love and passion into the kiss. Neither of them had been acting normally, manipulated by that bitch. Grace had set them up, playing some cruel game and had shattered their marriage. But she hadn't counted on love gluing the pieces back together.
This was the most crucial time. She could feel the guilt crushing Frank. He had said such hurtful things, words that had scarred her heart, wounds she would carry for the rest of her life. But she could survive them, ignoring the pain—her love was strong. He had been deceived. Grace was the real culprit, wielding her husband like a butcher's knife and carving into Evie's heart. Just like the bitch had used Evie to claw her husband's to shreds. They had to move past this moment before their wounds festered.
She didn't relent with her kiss, pressing her body against his, awakening his passion. Intimacy had been lost, so it needed to be regained. She had seen the damage emotional wounds can cause after years working as a social worker. His tongue brushed her, becoming more playful as the tension melted out of him. He relaxed into the kiss, his hands squeezing her back. They were so strong. They slid down, exploring her, brushing her ass, giving her cheeks a squeeze before sliding up her back.
She didn't resist as he scooped her in his arms, her heart beating for joy as he rose up. Over the last few months he had regained that sculpted physique he had in college, his muscles hard and defined, and he easily cradled her. There was something so special about being held in your lover's arms. So intimate and romantic.
He broke the kiss, staring down at her as she panted, licking her lips, tasting the lingering traces of him. His brown eyes were full of such warmth. “I love you, Evie.”
“I love you,” she whispered, touching his cheek, her hand trembling as her heart raced. She felt fourteen years younger, transported back to that magical night she and Frank had married and he had carried her to their bed in her wedding dress. So much had happened in the last few hours, she felt like a lifetime had passed.
This was the first step to reassembling their marriage.
His eyes never left hers as he carried her up the stairs. Her smile grew giddy as her heart beat faster. “So strong,” she whispered. “You're all the man I need.”
He froze in mid step, staring down at her. “You're all the woman, Evie. All I ever wanted since I saw you in that English class.”
“It was Philosophy,” she corrected, grinning.
“Same thing.”
She gave a soft laugh, and he kept carrying her up the stairs. “Frank.”
“Yeah.”
“Me, too. I knew I was going to marry you after our first date.”
It was his turn to laugh. “That night was a complete disaster.”
“You handled it well,” she smirked.
“So if you knew you were going to marry me, why did you keep putting me off on the second date.”
“To make sure you wanted me as badly.”
“Really?”
“Girls are just as stupid as boys at nineteen.”
She ducked her head as they entered the bedroom—it reeked of sex. Frank had violated their marriage in here. Some of the pain in her heart came back, her body tensing. Frank froze, feeling the mood shift in her. She could see the guilt returning in his eyes, and could almost hear the bitter recriminations whispering in his mind. She couldn't let this fester, she had to put her marriage back together. She wouldn't let that bitch win her vicious game.
She pulled his lips down and gave him a bone melting kiss. He moaned into her lips, sinking down to the bed so she was cradled on his lap. Her pain was forgotten as she was locked against those strong lips. His kiss grew aggressive, his whiskers scraping at her cheek. He turned, laying her out on the bed. He broke the kiss, leaning over her. “So handsome,” she whispered.
“So gorgeous.” His fingers pulled off her top, her breasts encased in a red bra. Frank squeezed her, the fabric pressing against her hard nipples. He shoved her bra cups up, her round breasts spilling out. His fingers were strong as he rolled her left, pink nipple; she sucked a breath through clenched teeth as lightning shot through her body.
He bent down, sucking her sensitive bud into his lips, sucking hard. She arched her back as wonderful sensations burned through her. She loved the feel of him, his strong hands sliding across her body, reaching her skirt as he sucked and nibbled. She lifted her rear, letting him push her skirt off her hips, his fingers sliding up her thigh, slipping between them and finding the liquid heat between her legs.
“Frank!” she moaned as his fingers explored her, brushing her petals, nudging her clit, fireworks shooting off inside her. Her hips lifted. “Oh, babe!”
His whiskered cheek rubbed across her right breast to her left, attacking her nipple, sucking hard, nibbling, devouring her as he shoved two fingers into her, stirring her burning depths. She shuddered as he worked deeper into her, the heel of his hand grinding on her clit, waves of bliss rolling through her, washing against her mind. All the pain and grief of the last few hours melted away. This is what mattered—her husband loving her.
It's all she really needed.
His mouth released her nipple, his whiskers scratching down to her stomach, his lips kissing her flesh as he scooted lower. She watched him through lidded eyes, her fingers finding his brown hair, running through the fine strands. His tongue dipped into her belly button, swirling about, sucking, while gasps escaped her lips.
“Lower,” she moaned, aching to feel his wonderful lips on her pussy.
His brown eyes flickered up, twinkling. “Does my naughty wife want to have her pussy licked.”
“Oh, yes! No man does it better.”
He kissed lower, reaching her pelvis, then his lips pressed into her neatly trimmed, black bush, rubbing his cheeks through her curls. His fingers wiggled inside her, teasing her pussy as his face slid lower. Her hips jerked as his whiskers brushed her sensitive clit, the pleasure so intense it almost hurt. Then his lips engulfed her clit and his fingers pumped faster.
His tongue was wonderful, teasing her clitoris. He churned her pussy, mastering her, building pleasure in the core of her being. Her legs stretched, sliding over his shoulder, pressing her inner thighs against his cheeks as rapture roared inside her pussy. Her heels drummed on his back as her passion grew, soaring through her, sending her closer to the clouds.
She cried out his name. Passion exploded inside her. Her fingers squeezed the sheets. Her mind was assaulted with pleasure. Her husband loved her pussy, giving her a wonderful release. The shudders wracked her body. The pleasure reached its peak, and then withdrew, her head collapsing into the pillow.
“Frank,” she purred.
He grinned at her from between her legs. “I love it when you scream my name.”
His fingers withdrew from her pussy, then he dipped down, his tongue sliding through her folds, stirring her up again. She smiled as he created more pleasure within her. Her hand slid down her body, touching his strong hand wrapped around her waist, grasping him, squeezing. He feasted on her, their eyes connected by love.
“Yes,” she moaned as her passion mounted. Her hips shifted, grinding her pussy against his lips. His skillful tongue worked its magic, another orgasm building hot and quick. Her toes curled on his back, her body arched, and then that wonderful flood rocked her, burning hot and quick, her breasts quivering and shaking. She loved this moment, spilling her hot passion into her husband's mouth.
It was an amazing orgasm, but she needed him inside her.
Evie
pulled on her husband's hand, his face rising up—she loved seeing him drenched in her juices. He crawled up her body, his wonderful weight crushing her, his strong chest pressing against her soft breasts. Their lips met; she tasted her passion, savoring her spice. Her legs parted, his hard cock nudging her thighs, sliding down to her burning warmth.
His girth brushed her pussy, little shudders flying through her as he probed for her hole. His tip found it, pushing into her. She opened up to him, moaning into his lips as he drove deep with a powerful stroke, resting inside her. She squeezed down, delighting in being filled by this man—her husband.
His kiss grew more aggressive, his hips drew back, and then they were making wonderful love. Her hips rose to meet his, a slow rhythm, friction burning through her body. Her hands ran across his broad back, down to his muscular ass, fingernails biting into his flesh as her passion. Small yelps escaped her lips as he stirred her up.
“Evie,” he moaned when he broke their kiss, pressing his forehead against hers, his deep-brown eyes staring down at hers. She moaned, nuzzling her nose against his. “Love you.”
“Yes!” she moaned, her thighs wrapping around his hips, pulling him in deeper. “Love me, Frank!”
“You forgive me?”
“I do! I forgive you! I love you!”
His hips sped up, his groin crushing her clitoris, new pleasure burning through her. His cock stirred her warmth, her mind flooding with ecstasy. She was going to cum again and lose herself in the passion she shared with her husband. Waves buffeted her and her pussy clenched about his cock as he plunged his shaft harder and harder into her.
The bed shook, box springs creaking as his hips drove his shaft into her over and over, driving her wild. He grunted through clenched teeth, his face twisting as his own passion had to be nearing. She burned to feel him cumming inside her. She loved that moment. She kept her eyes locked on his, moaning encouragements to flood her pussy.
He grunted, driving into her. She could feel his warmth basting her. Another shudder rocked her and her pussy milked him, draining every last drop of his seed into her. She reveled in his passion filling her up, sharing with her husband this powerful moment. She clutched him as tight as she could, never wanting to let him go.
