by Fabian Black
“You don’t have to say anything,” she saved him by interjecting. “It was a hell of a good time. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t welcome you back. Even though... Well, you can come back any time.”
No playing like things weren’t the way they were, no histrionics, just a straight acknowledgement of a good time and an invitation back. If only someone had told him women like this existed, his life might have been a hell of a lot different.
“Thanks.”
The Revelation
Leaving was hard. Cha’Relle didn’t get dressed other than to throw on a T-shirt that was long enough to almost cover her ass, but so tight it clung to her curves. Getting dressed took Donovan a hell of a lot longer than stripping had. Hell, he only vaguely remembered tearing off his clothes. While she lounged on the bed, his eyes returned to her over and over, like she was some kind of human magnet. All kinds of erotic thoughts rushed around in his head, colliding with one another before settling into a cohesive fantasy. How he’d love to pull a comfy chair to the edge of the bed and watch her play. Legs spread, bare and glistening, red-tipped nails running over mocha skin. Watching as she pinched and twisted those blackberry nipples. By the time he was fully clothed, he was rock hard again, throbbing with the need to take her again.
He had to go. With one lingering kiss he was gone, too afraid to look back. There was only so much temptation a man could take. Any more lingering, and leaving wouldn’t be an option.
Walking the few feet to his apartment door was more like a stroll toward an execution chamber. Dread crawled up his back, snaked around his chest, and clutched his heart with icy claws. Clutching his keys in hand, he unlocked and opened the front door as if he were sneaking in. In a way he was, though that made no sense. Mary was undoubtedly home; she hated going about the city without him. Hell, she hated the city. Sneaking in would do him no good.
Only Mary wasn’t in the front room when he finally stepped through the door. Nor was she in the kitchen. Having grown up on a farm, Mary was an early riser, always finding things to do to keep her busy throughout the day. It made him feel shitty coming home to a spotless apartment day after day, a fresh-cooked meal, and a wife who rarely smiled anymore. A couple of times he’d suggested she find at least part-time work so she wasn’t slaving around the apartment all day. She’d always refused. His wife was so different from the women in his office. It was kind of like she lived in a time warp and refused to be pulled into the twenty-first century no matter how much he tried.
Walking down the hall to the bedroom, Donovan became conscious of things he had been too preoccupied to notice when he’d first come in. There was soft music playing, coming from the bedroom, but that didn’t quite disguise the soft, feminine groans also coming from the room, or the squeaking of the old bed, a gift from Mary’s grandmother as they were moving. Donovan stilled, his senses going on high alert. Those were a female’s sighs of pleasure, all right, but no sound of a male was evident.
A slow, sly smile came to his lips. Mary masturbating? She certainly had never done anything like that when he was around. Finding his wife had a little bit of a wild side filled him with hope. Maybe with some counseling, a little communication, they could open up a whole new sex life. It didn’t dismiss what he had done, but he was willing to work on it if she would forgive him. Sure, it would be hard work, but anything was worth it if it meant having a better sex life.
Moving as silently as possible, Donovan tiptoed the rest of the way down the hall. He didn’t want to interrupt, but he did want to see. Sure, Mary was on the slim side compared to Cha’Relle, but she was pretty. He’d longed to see those rosy nipples all puckered and hard, her porcelain skin flushed with excitement. Because Mary preferred to have sex with the lights off, it had been years since he had really seen his wife in the throes of passion. Making it to the open bedroom door, he held his breath and peeked in.
That wasn’t Mary. At least, it wasn’t his wife on top. A woman with almond-colored skin and coal-black hair cascading down the gentle slope of an ultra-feminine back was grinding, straining against a white-and-pink blonde who was clutching the woman on top of her. Both were completely nude and so lost in their own, all-girl paradise, neither noticed as he walked, spellbound, into the room. With the bedsheets thrown to the floor in disarray, there was nothing left to the imagination. Each woman was completely nude, their pubic mounds rubbing vigorously together in a furious quest for the ultimate friction. The women moved their hips in a sensuous dance, mesmorizing in its eroticism. Despite the shock that staggered him to the core, Donovan was undeniably turned on. Not in a way where he’d want to join or even interfere in any way.
This wasn’t what he had just experienced a few moments ago at Cha’Relle’s place. This was something pure, something honest. Female bodies gleamed in the midday light, lips entwined, hands grasping. It was truly beautiful.
“He can’t make you feel like I do,” the mysterious woman on top of Donovan’s wife whispered, cupping Mary’s breasts as the two women r the two women ubbed vigorously against one another. “He can never love you as I do.”
“No,” Mary’s reply was but a whimper, coming amongst heavy gasps and little squeals of delight. “No one can. Oh, God, Serena, I’m coming. Yes, yes, yes!”
In response, the woman on top redoubled her efforts, lifting her upper body for more leverage as she rode Mary’s pussy hard and fast. Donovan could hear the wet, sticky friction as both women began to grunt, close to the ultimate pleasure.
“Yes, Mary, baby, come for me. Come now!”
It wasn’t just Mary who came. Both women gripped one another, holding tight as their pussies met and held, still moving but not letting even the air come between them.
It was then he knew. It wasn’t that Mary wasn’t into sex—Mary wasn’t into him. Sick with the knowledge they had both wasted so much time pretending to be something they weren’t, Donovan turned and slowly left the room, not stopping until he was out of the apartment and headed back out into the cold winter’s day. Later he would return and talk to Mary, let it all out in the open. He probably should find somewhere else to stay, just in case.
Who was he kidding? There would be no just in case. His marriage was over. It was very clear after witnessing what he had that Mary had never really been into him in a sexual way. What was he going to do now?
Walking away from the apartment building, understanding slowly dawned on him. His marriage was over, but his life wasn’t. Things might be a little messy for a little while, but in the end, the possibilities were endless. He’d married young, then concentrated on trying to move up the corporate ladder. There had never really been any time for fun. There were so many things he had always wished he had experienced. Now he was going to get his chance. In a way, his real education, the one that could only be taught through experience had just begun.
Not nearly the end….
Table of Contents
The Temptation. 5
The Fall 7
The Lesson. 8
The Revelation. 12