by Jason Lenov
"You what?" she whispers. She reaches down and gives my hardening cock another squeeze. "Oh my," she purrs. "Already?"
I want to fuck her again with each passing second but I'm worried I'm going to give up the only chance I'm ever going to have to tell her about this.
"What's bringing this on?" she asks as she rolls over onto me and swings a leg over my lap.
"It's... I... "
Want to see you with another man.
Fuck. I can't.
She sits up on top of me and the covers fall off.
I look down just in time to see the cum I pumped into her spill out and onto my cock. It's hot from being inside her and starts to slide down my hardening shaft.
She reaches down and takes my cock, pointing the head at the hole of her pussy. She's soaked again. Why?
"Okay," she says, sliding the head of my cock against her slit, then grinding it against her clit. "How about this. I'll tell you something if you tell me something. How does that sound?"
It's getting harder to concentrate on anything but the way my cock feels in her hand. Fine. It sounds fine. "Okay."
Serena lowers herself down, letting the head of my cock slip between her plush outer lips. Just enough to feel the heat of her inside. We lock eyes.
"I have something to tell you," she whispers, rocking back and forth, letting a little more of my cock into her each time.
"You... you do?" I ask.
Serena nods and bites her lip. "I haven't told you because it's kind of naughty," she says. Her eyes flutter up to the ceiling in (possibly mock) embarrassment.
My cock hardens in her hand and in her pussy and she notices.
"What is it?" I whisper.
Serena lowers herself onto me a little more, almost swallowing the whole head of my cock.
"The only reason I'm telling you this now," she explains. "Is that you had that hard-on and... well, I'm a little drunk. Are you ready?"
I nod. I am so fucking hot and ready. I have no idea what she's going to say and I just want to be inside her again. I squeeze my ass to try and thrust up into her hot puss.
"Ah, ah!" she says, lifting her pussy up to keep me out. "You have to wait for my thing. My thing that I have to say. And you have to not get mad. Don't get mad, okay?"
"Okay," I mutter, my hands on her hips as I try to work her down onto me.
"Okay," she slurs. She looks straight at me. "Here it is. My drunken confession. Don't get mad." She slips a bit of me inside.
I feel her hot juice spill out of her pussy and run down my cock.
"You had that hard-on at the party when we were talking about Dale, right?"
I nod. My heart thunders inside my chest.
"Would you... what would you say if... and don't get mad. What would you say if I told you that... "
Oh God. Has she cheated on me? What the fuck kind of way is this to tell me that!
My cock goes rock hard.
Serena's eyes open wide. She looks at me with genuine shock.
"What? What is it?" I groan.
When she speaks it's in a whisper. "I've fantasized about fucking my boss."
At that moment, she lets go of her weight above me and comes sliding down my hard shaft.
I groan as the heat of her pussy envelopes my cock, her tight lips sealing me inside.
She flops down onto me, her breasts heavy and warm against my chest and starts to ride.
What the fuck? Is this really happening?
"I... " I mutter the syllable then get swept up in another current of climax as her thighs rub against my hips and the slick heat of her pussy drools down my cock.
"You what, baby?" she whispers into my ear, her mouth so close that her hot breath grazes my neck. The sticky sounds of her undulating on top of me slap around the room.
"I want to see his black cock inside you."
Serena screams. Her pussy clenches around my shaft.
I dig my fingers into her ass as my cock spurts another hot blast of cum into her snatch.
It's out and I can never take it back.
Chapter 3
Serena
I sleep like a log curled up next to Anderson's warm body. I wake up to a dull ache in my temples from the wine. Last night is foggy and dream-like in my mind.
I'm conscious for a few seconds before adrenaline rips through me at the memory of what he said. My eyes snap open as I scramble to sit up. I look over at my husband.
Anderson's still sleeping, his breathing deep and slow. I smile at how handsome he is and what a lucky girl I am for having scored a man like him.
Why the fuck did I say it out loud?
I know why. Because it's been on my mind for years. Since I started working at Evenson International I've been thinking about it. Well, longer than that.
I slink out of bed and walk softly across the carpet, hoping to not wake him up. I need time. I need time to myself to think things through.
The coffee grinder's too loud and I know it would wake him up so I have to settle for tea for now. English Breakfast in my bathrobe by the window. My mind drifts to Dale. Again.
I've always wanted to fuck a black guy. I almost did once, in college. I chickened out because I barely knew him. We were at a party and he was hitting on me pretty hard and I was tipsy but not drunk enough and still prudish enough that I would have felt like a slut.
But I dreamed about what his black cock would have looked like as he slipped it into me. I'm pretty pale. I always keep my pussy shaved and I don't have big flaps or anything. Tight outer lips that press together like the seam of a peach.
I'd masturbate late at night, I had this little ring vibrator back then, dreaming about what that black boy would have looked like going into my pussy.
When I met Dale at the interview for the job I have now, he kind of took over that role in my mind.
And you know what? I go back and forth between feeling fucking terrible about it and so turned on that I don't even know what to do with myself. It's not that I want to cheat on Anderson. I would never do that. I want... I want... this is fucked up but I want him to know about it. I don't know what it is about it that turns me on but I want him to know that I'm out fucking another man.
That's crazy, right?
My mind drifts back to the previous night. His words, the ones that made me come harder than I ever have in my life, come wandering back in. I reach between my legs to find my pussy already wet just from the memory.
What's it going to be like seeing him this morning?
Is he going to want to talk about it?
Am I?
Can you talk about something like that in the clear light of day, sober and without the disarming effects of booze?
I could just play it off as a fantasy. If he brings it up I could just tell him that it was just something I thought about in the moment and never before.
Or I could tell him that I really do want to fuck my boss. And that I want him to watch.
The sound of the coffee grinder makes me turn away from the window and towards the kitchen. A moment later Anderson's standing in the door frame, arms crossed.
His smile makes me smile.
"So?" he says.
"So?" I echo, my smile growing wider. Every time I look at him I feel loved.
"Let's have some coffee and hash this out."
***
Anderson
She looks amazing. Even hungover, her hair up in a bun, sitting in that ratty old yellow bathrobe she looks like a goddess. My goddess.
When she walks up I kiss her on the forehead and smell her hair. It always smells like her chamomile shampoo.
I shiver with nervous energy at what we're about to do. Are we seriously going to have this talk? I wonder whether I should even bring it up. Maybe it's just something that happened in the moment? Maybe she'll laugh at me for bringing it up this morning.
I don't care. There's got to be something to this. She couldn't have just come up with it last night.
&n
bsp; Once the coffee's made we both sit down at the table, leaning against it with one elbow and staring into each others eyes. She makes me smile.
"So?" I start.
"So?" she echoes, then giggles, then hides behind her cup as she takes a sip. The coffee's strong, black and hot. Just the way she likes it.
"You're gonna make me do this, aren't you?"
Serena giggles again. She has on her flirty eyes. Those eyes could make me do anything.
"You've thought about it? You've thought about fucking your boss?" I ask without breaking her stare.
The smile fades and she looks suddenly serious. She sets the cup down and tucks herself into her bathrobe.
"Serena! What?" It's the strangest reaction and I have no idea what to do about it.
"No, nothing. It's... I just didn't expect you to say it out loud like that," she explains. She looks like she might cry.
"You had no trouble with that last night," I quip, trying to keep things light.
She lets out a long sigh and looks up. "I don't... I don't want you to think that... "
"Serena," I say, reaching a hand across the table. I take hers in mine and squeeze. "Let's just pretend there's no taboo here. Let's pretend we're just talking about... what color we want to paint the walls or something, alright? That way we don't have to dance around it so much."
"Oh Anderson," she says, sounding wistful. "I don't know if I can do that about something like this."
"Okay. I'll start. You said you wanted to fuck your boss."
"I said I'd fantasized about fucking him," she clarifies.
"Okay. Fantasized. Would you do it then? If you had the chance?"
She shakes her head and bites her finger, setting down her cup. "I don't want you to think that... "
"I don't think anything, remember? I... I said a thing too, right?"
She nods this time, her blonde waves bouncing on her shoulders.
I wait, hoping she'll come up with something to say but she doesn't. "I've thought about it. A lot. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me, or if there even is but I've really thought about it a lot."
"Really?" she whispers.
"Uh-huh," I answer, nodding.
She scrunches up her nose and shakes her head. "Really really?" she asks. "I mean... you wouldn't... "
I know what she wants to say. Somehow I know she wants to ask me whether I'd get jealous or not. I shrug. "I don't know what the hell I'd do. I don't even know why I could possibly have this desire. All I know is that I've thought about it ever since you got that job. I've... I've fantasized about it too."
Serena's eyes open a little wider. She glances at my lap and sees that I'm rock hard just from talking about this. She shakes her head. "How... I couldn't. I couldn't ever do something like that to you."
But there's something missing from the end of her sentence. Two words.
Could I?
"I know there's no chance it'll ever happen," I say. "Maybe that's why I don't get jealous or worried about it. It's just something that will always stay a fantasy."
Serena's reaction sends the same razor of jealousy cutting through me that I felt last night when she told me she'd thought of fucking her boss. It's addictively painful and makes my cock hard.
"What?" I ask. "What does that look mean?"
She bites her pretty, pink lip, looks off to one side, then back at me. It's not a look that says "of course it could never happen."
"Serena?" I prod.
"He told me he wants to fuck me."
The wind gets sucked out of my lungs and it feels like I've swallowed a rock. My vision starts to narrow and pretty soon I can only see her, my wife. "You... he what?" I say quietly.
She doesn't seem to get worried by my reaction. In fact, it seems like the opposite is true. Her eyes are searching again. She gently dips her toe back into the pool to stir the water up.
"When I first got the job," she says quietly.
It feels like another punch to the gut, hearing that but I don't double over. I stay staring straight ahead at her. "Tell me."
"Okay," she says. She leans against the table again and picks up her cup of coffee and takes a sip. One side of her bathrobe falls open revealing the alluring curve of her breast.
My eyes drift to her chest, then back up.
"I have to tell you something I'm not very proud of," she says.
I nod. "Go ahead."
"Well, I think I may have used some of my feminine charms to get this job."
"You... you what?" My nerves are shot. My stomach is twisted into a knot. My heart is pounding so hard I feel like I just did a couple lines of coke. And I can't get enough.
A part of me wants her to tell me that she fucked Dale to get the job. That she acted like a total slut and sucked his cock.
"Oh, I didn't give him a blow job or anything," she says, as if reading my mind.
My cock lurches between my legs.
Serena's bathrobe falls open a little more, the motion catching my eye. She seems pleased when I look down.
"What did you do then?"
She shrugs. Her sudden nonchalance is as much of a turn on as the jealousy coursing through me. As if she suddenly discovered the power she can have over me. "I just flirted with him a little is all."
"And... and that's when he said he wanted to fuck you?"
"No," Serena shakes her head. "It was a few days later."
This is real. My mind starts spinning as I somehow make out that this is really real. This isn't just a game any more. This actually did happen. "A few days later what?"
"He asked me to come into his office. He told me he wanted me to get on his desk and spread my legs so that he could fuck my pussy."
Cold jealousy douses the heat that's burning between my legs but a split second later makes it flare back up. Like water thrown onto an oil fire. My insides ignite.
"Are you... are you serious."
"Mm-hmm," she says, nodding, studying my reaction. Her eyes wander down my body and settle on the outline of my rock-hard cock in my underwear. Serena puts her coffee down and slips off her chair, crawling over to where I'm sitting on her hands and knees.
She peels back my underwear and pulls my cock out. She wraps a fist around it. "You are so fucking turned on by this, aren't you?" she whispers.
What can I say? She's right. There's no hiding it. I swallow hard as she leans forward and kisses the head of my cock.
"So, if this weren't your cock but someone else's," she whispers as her hand starts to pump my cock. If this were someone else's cock and you saw me kiss it like that, that would turn you on too?"
My cock flexes in her hand. Not just from her touch but from imagining her touching another man the way she's touching me.
Her mouth cracks into a smile. "I guess that's a yes," she says, her voice low and suddenly sultry. She sweeps her tongue up the length of my shaft and in one swift motion takes me into her mouth.
I groan as my ass tightens in the chair. I move the hair off her face and wrap my fist around it so I can watch myself disappearing into her mouth.
With each bob she takes me a little deeper until I can feel the back of her throat. She sinks down onto me and stops. She squeezes the muscles at the back of her throat, teasing the head of my cock.
My nuts tighten up as I get ready to spew. "Fuck, Serena," I whisper, trying to pull her off. She's not a huge fan of the taste of cum.
She lets me pull her off and starts pumping me with her fist. She pushes her tongue out of her mouth and opens her mouth wide like a porn star.
I can't believe it. Seed rushes through my hard shaft at the sight. A thick rope of spunk comes splashing out of my cock and lands across her cheek.
She turns her head. Just in time. Another burst shoots out of the head of my cock and lands inside her mouth. Serena's eyes glow with a smile.
I start to deflate.
Her face covered in cum, she dives onto my cock and starts sucking the last spurts of semen
out of me.
I shudder and groan.
Chapter 4
Serena
Anderson's on pins and needles the rest of the weekend, I can tell. I can tell he wants to talk about it but doesn't want to talk about it too much. I can tell he doesn't know how to deal with his own feelings about it.
I don't want to get into his mind too much about it but I want to talk about it too. There's something else that turns me on about it now.
Anderson's reaction to it, how hot it makes him is incredible. Knowing that he's jealous and all tied up about it at the same time is beyond hot.
And I'm not some crazy bitch that wants to make her guy jealous to prove his love or anything like that. I just... the power of knowing what it does to him...
It's fucking intoxicating.
I watch him for the whole day Saturday. We spend most of it outside doing yard work so I have my glasses on. I can tell he's distracted. I can tell he's thinking about it.
It makes me so turned on knowing he's thinking about me and some other guy. I don't know why. It's almost hotter than actually imagining being with Dale, thinking about Dale's cock inside my pussy.
Almost.
By the time Sunday night rolls around he's so distracted he can barely concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes at a time. I have to be careful not to giggle every time I see him pick up a book, then set it down a few minutes later.
He goes out to his workshop for a while. Comes back fifteen minutes later.
I'm on the couch watching him above my e-reader as he paces to the kitchen and back. He's got half a hard-on already.
I want his cock.
"Hey!"
Anderson almost jumps at the sound of my voice. He looks confused for a moment, like he's not sure who said that.
This time I laugh. "Come here," I mutter and set my reader down.
Anderson walks into the living room, glances at his watch as if he has something important to do, then asks "What's up?"
"Sit down." I smile at him and pat the couch beside me.
He does what I ask but sits on the edge instead of curling up. The nervous energy is just buzzing around him.
"You've been so inside your own head this weekend," I say, putting a hand on his arm.
