Honey, He Kissed Me

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Honey, He Kissed Me Page 3

by Laran Mithras


  And fortunately, he apparently had the same idea. He didn’t try to enter me.

  I melted further with relief knowing I was safe. But, this really had to stop. What if Hank stepped back inside for something? He never did once he went out, but what if today was the day? I wanted to say that, but instead I heard myself admit, “That feels so good…”

  He laughed behind me, ruefully. “Too good.”

  I moved my hips counter to his, sliding my pussy against his cock as much as he slid against my pussy. I moaned louder. “So good… Just don’t go inside…”

  He gasped harshly, “No, I won’t.” He moved faster and increased our mutual lust tenfold.

  I panted, “Oh yes, yes!”

  His groan was loud and echoed in the kitchen.

  I trembled in sudden fear. “Shh!”

  “Sorry.”

  I moved more and felt the head brush at a slightly better angle against my hole. It paused there until it slid past. It felt so good that I felt a flush of extra wetness course though my pussy. I angled my pussy on his forward stroke again, hoping to feel that rush of tingles and heat again. The head stopped at my opening, the head pointing almost at the proper angle for penetration. Like a high strung guitar wire, I trembled there at the imminence of entrance, but knowing the angle was wrong. It felt too good not to enjoy.

  I could feel him trembling, too. He sighed roughly, letting out a long breath of bliss. “Ahh, yeah…”

  My head was hot with dizziness and urgency. “Maybe…”

  “What?”

  “Just put the head in. Just the head. Let me feel it – how thick it is.” It was bad enough that my panties were down at my ankles and his bare cock was wet with my pussy juices. What would feeling the head hurt any now? Just a feel. I had to know.

  Benny groaned desperately and shifted.

  The head of his cock pushed back against me at the proper angle. The pressure was intense and began stretching open my wet hole. I whispered, “Just the head.”

  “Yeah… ungh…” His hand gripped my hips and he pushed.

  The head popped in and I wailed quietly onto the counter.

  But Benny didn’t stop. He pushed harder and harder, sliding his thick shaft forward and up. The thickness stretched me open and began going deep.

  “Benny!”

  He moaned, “Oh, fuck yeah.” His cock pushed all the way in, pinning me against the counter.

  It felt incredible. It wasn’t that his cock did anything magical, it was that this was so very strictly not right.

  He pulled back and pushed forward.

  I moaned with sexual delight as his thick man-cock pushed in and out of my pussy. I pressed backwards, trembling so badly that my hands were vibrating on the counter. I felt my pussy and his balls meet and indicate he was fully implanted inside me.

  It was awesome.

  He began pounding me.

  I cannot describe how utterly forlorn I was that it felt so fantastic. There was no way I could stop, but the realization was enough for me to gasp, “You bastard. I’m your best friend’s wife. How can you do this… Oh…”

  He huffed harshly, driving his hardness in and out of my wet pussy.

  I could feel my pussy clamping over and over on him. “How could… you do… this?” I groaned as a wave of tension twisted and tore at my balance inside. Then I was lifted. “Your cock is so hard… oh… I’m going to cum!”

  He flailed at me from behind, his hips slapping harshly against my butt. My pussy was a willing hole for his pounding erection – accepting, wanting, and welcoming every driving thrust of his swollen manhood.

  It didn’t belong to my husband and it shouldn’t feel this good, should it? But it did. I clawed at the counter as a huge wave rolled my insides into a tumbling ball of hot flashes and explosive releases. I grunted out of control and thrust back against him.

  His cock expanded and pulsed. Hot splashes squirted into me. Each pulse sent a corresponding flash of brilliant light through my head. He was cumming in me and the feel of his squirts was driving me into a sexual frenzy I could not control. I ground my hips up and down frantically, trying to help milk his cum out of him and into my waiting pussy. I was powerless to stop my desperate physical exertion to feel every squirt of his cum as deep as it could go.

  My orgasm blinded me. I saw stars. Fireworks. Massive light explosions that robbed me of the ability to breathe. My body convulsed brutally against the counter as Benny held my hips tightly against his and unleashed streams of his cum into my deepest, most sensual sanctum.

  I felt totally and truly violated…

  And it had been amazing.

  CHAPTER 7

  I had done it and totally failed at being a good wife.

  No longer could I look at my husband and know that I was going to be devoted to him. Just the one failure was enough to hang a stigma on my soul that I knew could never be removed.

  But I was a practical woman. I fixed broken things on my own.

  Since this level of broken couldn’t be fixed, I would have to do the next best thing and hide it. I had to conceal all this from my husband and pretend nothing happened: it was the only reasonable answer.

  I turned savagely on Benny. His cum was running down my inner thighs. “Don’t you dare say anything to Hank!”

  He was sweaty, exhausted, and his eyes were unfocused. He mumbled, “Yeah…”

  I grabbed him and shook him. “Do you understand me? Not a word! I love him!”

  He nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I understand.” Then he got a cheeky look on his face and kissed my lips.

  Stunned by his audacity, I didn’t stop him. Suddenly, I was kissing him back. It wasn’t like kissing was any worse than what I had done and besides… I wanted to kiss him. He was a very nice man and sensitive – so sweet it sometimes hurt just to be around him. We had just had sex; I wasn’t going to protest a real kiss.

  There, let him have it. Maybe now this is all out of our systems.

  Unfortunately, over the next couple of hours, I went from tragically despondent over my failure to mildly certain that I hungered for more of it. I had failed once, why try to avoid more? If I was forever stained, why try to act like a nun?

  Embrace the failure… or kill myself to erase it all.

  I wasn’t suicidal; I loved life.

  I planned out an extra special dinner – meatloaf I had made for Hank once and he had loved. I felt obligated to be the best wife ever to him if I was going to try hiding this horrible crime against our marriage vows.

  I found myself staring at my wedding ring and wondering how I could’ve let it all happen. It had to be my fault. I should’ve stopped him. I should’ve said something.

  I changed out of my dress into shorts and a t-shirt. At least it felt a little better covered and armored against Benny if he should try again.

  I gave Hank a hug when he came in. I gripped him tightly, trying to press away my stain and be one with him again.

  He murmured, “My, you’re in a better mood now. Headache all gone?”

  I released him and looked away. I just… could not… look him in the eyes. However, I forced myself to do so. “I… guess, yes.”

  His smile came up one side of his mouth. “Then I guess we’ll have to have Benny keep doing that.”

  Oh. My. God. No. I wrung my hands together. “I think I’ll be okay.”

  “Nonsense. You look better than you have in days.” He leaned close. “He thinks you don’t like him.”

  I protested, “I like him just fine!” I tried to banish the thought of his cock driving up into my hole and failed. “I mean… he’s okay. I don’t hate him or anything.”

  He winked. “Give him a hug when he comes in – like you did me. I think he’ll appreciate that.”

  My mouth stretched in stress and I showed my lower teeth. My fingers wrung more furiously together. “A hug? Are you sure?”

  He stamped his feet on the mat to kick off the dust and dirt. “Yeah, be extra ni
ce to him. He’s been feeling down all day. Probably Paris, you know.”

  I felt a surge of sympathy for Benny. He had been depressed after we…? “Oh…”

  “Pay some attention to him. Maybe tickle him or something. Get the bastard to laugh and forget about her.”

  I was faced with either denying my husband or accepting it and suffering the consequences of being in contact with Benny. I shivered, feeling not just careful, but strangely saucy. “Playful? I think… I can do that.” A chance to put my hands on him with my husband’s approval? What woman could say no? I marveled at my luck. I said more confidently, “Okay.”

  He stopped to kiss me. “That’s a girl.” He gripped my butt cheek and squeezed. “Gonna shower.”

  I was glad he couldn’t see the stain I was hiding and still felt comfortable around me to grope my butt. “Okay. Where’s Benny?”

  “Moping about like a beat dog in the barn.”

  I always felt bad for beat dogs when Hank used the term. “Aw…”

  He nodded at me. “Glad to see that headache’s gone.” He pulled off his boots and padded to the bedroom.

  That went surprisingly well. And tease Benny? Make him happy? What’s not to like about that? I mused happily, forgetting my stain enough so that I was in a peppier mood. If my husband was going to approve of a little flirty play, then hiding my failure wasn’t going to be a problem.

  If Benny just kept his mouth shut.

  He did.

  I hugged him when he came in and his sullen sadness became something much brighter and happier.

  He murmured, “Oh? Are you wanting a repeat against the counter?”

  I almost slapped him. “No!” I laughed and shook my head. “No, don’t even think it. Just keep your mouth shut about the whole thing. I’m supposed to cheer you up.”

  “There’s only one thing that would do that for me…”

  I coughed in indignation, but was also pleased that he felt that way about me. Then I noticed his head moving and his eyes unfocused. His chin did a little waltz in the air.

  Puzzled, I heard the music in the background. I released him and moved into the living room. On the television was the music video channel and on it was that odd western violin song. The imprint said it was “Roundtable Revival” by Lindsey Stirling.

  Unfocused? Or dreamy? I tapped my finger against my chin. Google knows everything…

  CHAPTER 8

  I cleaned up after dinner and joined the men in the living room.

  Hank looked at me and his eyes shifted towards Benny sitting next to him.

  I understood the look.

  They were watching some guys fighting it out in a ring though. The bare fists and blood wasn’t something I cared for and I wondered if I would be able to even tear Benny’s attention away.

  I plopped down next to him and scooted closer.

  He looked. Then looked back at the TV.

  I poked him.

  “Ow.”

  I snorted. “That didn’t hurt.”

  “No, but you have sharp nails.” He was still watching the bout.

  I poked him again. Then again.

  He chuckled. “Knock that off, Rachel.”

  I tried poking again and he caught my wrist. I exclaimed, “Hey, that’s not fair.”

  He made a raspberry. “Yeah, defending myself is unfair.”

  “Right.” I twisted my wrist to get it away from him. “Honey? He’s hurting me.”

  Hank’s head snapped over, but his face softened when he saw my quirky smile. However, he played along. “Let go of her, you son of a bitch.”

  Benny released me and I used it as a prime opportunity to dig my fingers into his armpit.

  He exclaimed in surprise and snatched my wrist again.

  I used my other hand and poked at him until he was wrestling with me and laughing. I looked at my husband a few times just to make sure I was doing okay. He wore an amused smile that told me I wasn’t crossing any lines and was doing what he expected.

  Benny’s finger dug into my armpit and I squealed in shock and a tide of ticklish shivers.

  He said, “Oh, ticklish are you?”

  I said promptly and petulantly, “No.”

  He tickled me again.

  I tried desperately to work my fingers into his side until we were struggling against each other.

  He panted, laughing, and pulled me across his lap. “What was that about spanking?”

  I wailed, “Don’t you dare!” But I was laughing too hard to give it any force.

  He paused.

  I almost squirmed free.

  My husband said, “Are you going to stare at her ass all night or spank it?” There was a hint of warning there.

  Benny said, “Sorry, she just looks so good in shorts.”

  Hank grunted. “She does doesn’t she?”

  Benny was more breathy than firm. “Yeah.” His hand landed on my butt and I squawked. I flailed my legs as another landed.

  Hank said, “Don’t hurt her.”

  Benny was totally breathless. He could barely whisper, “I won’t hurt her.” His hand came down on my butt, but this time just laid there and squeezed. “She’s got such a beautiful figure.”

  The heat of his hand on my ass alarmed me and I twisted to get it away from him. I poked at his side hoping my husband didn’t protest. After all, I had moved, right? I didn’t want this little play session to end. Getting to be in such close contact with my husband’s friend was making my pussy all hot again.

  If my husband wants me to play like this, I’m going to play. I poked.

  Benny reacted swiftly, and the struggle was on again. In a flail of arms, hands, and fingers, we went at it, both of us laughing.

  Even my husband – when I looked – wore a delighted smile.

  Several times, Benny was not very discriminating, and his hand grabbed at my chest or between my thighs. I squealed and tried to avoid those touches, but ended up taking my own revenge by gripping the bulge in his lap and squeezing really hard.

  Benny froze and moaned.

  Hank chuckled. “Looks like she hit the spot, huh? Are you down for the count?”

  He grunted and said, “No!” He burst into action, twisting me over facing up. His hand slid down between my thighs and I instinctively clamped them shut, trapping his hand there. He began moving his trapped hand and rubbed harshly against my pussy through my shorts.

  I gasped and struggled to get away. This was not the kind of show my husband wanted to see - I was sure. Dammit, Benny!

  He ground his wrist against my clit and a moan escaped my mouth. His other hand slid roughly across my t-shirt and dragged over my nipples.

  The benefit to having almost no boobs was that I never needed a bra. The disadvantage to having no boobs and bra meant that any excitement could become obvious.

  Normally, that wasn’t a problem for me.

  However, right now, it was.

  A huge wave of tension turned inside me and I struggled harder – but that only served to twist me harder against his wrist and I moaned again with the lust that drove a spike of hollowness through my pussy.

  I looked up helplessly.

  My husband was standing over us. His hands were on his hips and his eyebrows were drawn down. “Am I seeing this right? Are you turned on by this tickling?”

  I was frozen still, but Benny didn’t have the sense. His hand twisted and wriggled frantically against my pussy without stopping.

  I couldn’t hide my very hard nipples jutting against my t-shirt. I opened my mouth as another wave lifted me and tightened everything inside to almost bursting. I was in a panic because I was certain I couldn’t stop it. I stammered, “If he doesn’t st-stop, I’m going to cum!”

  Benny didn’t stop.

  Hank said, “Looks like you got her in the right spot, Benny.”

  My eyes rolled back in my head and I convulsed shamelessly and shamefully. I tried to squeeze the orgasm back inside and hide it, but it was no us
e. The harder I tried to resist it, the harsher it came. I flopped like a grounded fish.

  Benny said, “She got me all hard.”

  I came down from the waves and felt the mortification of what had happened right in front of my husband set in. I struggled free and fled.

  Hank came after me, hounding me like a hunter after his prey. I had nowhere to go to escape him.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Are you all right?” The concern in his voice quelled my imminent defensive burst of apologies.

  I dropped my mouth open in shock. “I…”

  We stood in the bedroom, the door shut.

  I shook my head. “I… just came on your friend’s lap.”

  Hank looked uncertain. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  My pussy was actually a little sore on the outside, but I didn’t want to sound like I was blaming his friend. “No…”

  He smiled. “Good.”

  I gaped again. “Good?”

  “I thought that was kind of hot.”

  My eyes bugged out even more. “Me cumming in his lap?”

  He nodded. “And especially him admitting he was hard over it.”

  “Wait, you liked that?”

  He stepped closer to me and I flinched.

  His eyebrows drew down in rage.

  I flinched again.

  He grabbed me roughly by the arm but instantly loosened his grip.

  I said, “I didn’t mean to cum—”

  “Stop it.”

  “What?”

  “Stop apologizing. Stop thinking I’m going to hit you. Stop being so afraid of me.”

  Tears watered my eyes. “I just want to please you.”

  “You do.” He pulled me into his embrace. “You very much do.”

  “You’re not mad that I…?”

  He laughed, deep and hearty. “Uh, no?”

  “But I had an orgasm on your friend. I’m a lousy wife.”

  He shook his head, laughing with ridicule. “Says who? I thought that was perfect.”

  I went still. “You did?”

  “I’ve… got something I should tell you.”

  “What?” My heart hammered in my chest and I strained to hear him over the thundering.

 

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