by Selena Kitt
On one side of the precipice was the disaster of what would happen if she lost all of what she had, so close to a perfect relationship and marriage. On the other side was a life of not knowing, the slow downfall that Richard had described, the downfall which she knew would come, the day by day wondering of what could have been.
But if—and it was a big if—if there was a way to fill in this last piece of the puzzle, then she would have it all. They would have it all.
She might never get this opportunity again.
It was risky. It was dangerous.
And that’s what decided her.
Melissa put her hand on Richard’s leg, sliding it upward, not at all surprised to feel him fully firm through his slacks. She squeezed him, hard, and he moaned, reaching for her with his lips, but she pulled her head back, holding herself at bay, making him wait until he heard every detail. It’s what he wanted, after all.
“Vern stuck his tongue in my mouth,” she said. “And I kissed him back the same way. And then his hands were on me.”
“He touched you?”
“He fondled my breasts. He grabbed my nipples. Hard. He knew he could do whatever he wanted to me, and I’d let him.”
Richard closed his eyes. He was breathing heavily, and Melissa knew he was picturing it, how it all had happened. “Were you turned on?” he asked, his voice a whisper.
Melissa paused just a moment to let him wonder.
“I was so wet I could feel it through my sweat. If he had wanted to take me right there, tear off my clothes, I don’t think I could have stopped him. I don’t know if I would have wanted to.”
And suddenly Richard was on her, all over her, pulling at her blouse, his hands frantic. He roughly pulled up her skirt, and Melissa was so shocked at his sudden change she reflectively squeezed her legs together, but this turned him on even more, and he keep at her, and she felt herself grow wet, just as she had been with Vern.
Richard shoved his knee between her thighs. He yanked at the top of her blouse, tearing off a button, his hands were on her breasts, his fingers grabbing for her nipples.
“Was this how he grabbed you?”
Without waiting for an answer his mouth was on her, driving her head back into the cushions. Without thinking Melissa hesitated just briefly, as she had with Vern, the surprise of it all overwhelming her, then she opened her mouth to him, letting him in. She kissed him back, hard, and she could feel his reaction through her mouth, his desire.
Melissa felt his hand on her knee, forcing her legs open, and then his fingers were between her legs, no slow foreplay, just seeking her pussy. He pushed his finger in, then another, and she cried out, not in pain but in surprise, blissful surprise.
Richard was tearing at his belt, trying to get it open with one hand while the other worked in and out of her pussy, and she rushed to help him, unbuckling the belt, yanking his pants down, grabbing for his cock. Their lips were still locked, she couldn’t see what she was doing, it was all by touch, and she felt constrained, held down by his weight on the corner of the couch. She couldn’t escape, even if she had wanted to.
He was free, and not even bothering to remove her panties he shoved them aside and speared into her, and Melissa broke free of his mouth as he entered her, pulling his head to her shoulder, wrapping her arms around his back, opening her legs to him.
He thrust into her, harder than he had ever done before.
“Is this what you wanted him to do?” Richard’s voice was harsh, demanding.
On the precipice, again.
She took the plunge. “Yes!” He thrust again. “Yes!”
And with each thrust she repeated it, his power increasing with every utterance, every admission of her desire.
She saw the ceiling above her, then squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to think about where she was. She could be anywhere, in her house with Richard, but also lying on the grass on the side of the road, with Vern. The faces shifting back and forth, Richard, Vern, Richard, Vern.
Melissa felt him stiffen inside her, even as he drove in, and she locked on Vern, imagining him about to come inside her, and she tightened the muscles in her pussy and sucked him in, taking control, of Richard, of Vern, of her life.
They came at the same time, her orgasm a wave she rode as she pulled his seed into her. She was being taken, but she was also taking.
Richard lifted himself up slightly, to let her breathe, but she held him close, her eyes still closed, lost in her dream.
He wasn’t Vern, he’d never be. Even like this, as good as it was, as good as it might become, sex with Richard could never be like sex with someone like Vern. Or Marcus.
But it was pretty close.
There was only one question left.
How long would it last?
The End
Read the next phase of Melissa and Richard’s story (and meet Marcus!) in
A Surprise Reunion
available on amazon
About the Author
C. C. Morian. I write stories filled with incredible realism which explore how couples discover something new about their spouses—and themselves. Or how men and women learn what really turns them on, often in unexpected, but perfectly believable, ways.
Her Needs Series: Hotwife stories about women who discover—and succumb to—their unfulfilled needs.
Revenge Series: Stories of independent woman who discover their inner strength and power by getting their just revenge on men who have treated them unfairly.
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Chapter 1
Spring was in the air, fragrant pollen bursting from blossoms in colorful beds. Miranda watched through the sliding glass door from the sofa as Travis brushed a thin coat of varnish on the custom desk he was building for her husband, Doug. He had hired him after seeing some of his work at a colleagues house. Doug did well, at one of the Big Five accounting firms which afforded Miranda a life of leisure, lunching with friends, shopping, mani-pedis. She was feeling rather neglected though, sexually. Her libido was kicking into overdrive and Doug was too wrapped up in his career to notice so she was spending a lot of time with her vibrator to sate her appetite.
Travis was tall and tanned, blond and blue, chiseled and smooth, his muscles undulating beneath the cotton of his t-shirt as he worked. She couldn’t help but daydream about what the young stud on her patio might do to her if she gave him the chance. Gazing at him, her clit contracted, as his ass moved under the faded denim of his jeans. He shifted his weight, bending down to dip his brush before swiping it along the cherry wood. She couldn’t forget that first day on the job, when she brought him a glass of lemonade, their eyes locked in a smoldering exchange as he touched her hand with unabashed intent, her flesh sizzling in response. She’d been fantasizing about a young, hung, stud taking her virgin ass and punishing her for all the naughty thoughts that raced through her filthy mind and here he was, right in her own backyard.
She put her book down, resting it on her belly and slid a hand behind her head which rested on a pillow. She uncrossed her ankles and lifted one leg onto the back of the sofa. She was wearing a black Donna Karan lounge dress that fell to her thighs, a massive 85 inch ceiling fan twirled above her head. Her cunt ached as she watched him. He set down his brush and turned around, his hand running along his abdomen and underneath his shirt, raising it just enough to offer her a peek. Unable to resist, she swiped her finger through her oozing slit, gathering up the juices of her turned on pussy. His package was pressing against his jeans, a formidable
She marked her book and got up off the sofa. Her dress falling mid-thigh over her naked butt and slid her pampered feet into jeweled, heeled sandals. She raked her hands through her auburn hair and plumped it up. She glossed her lips lightly in a coat of pale pink that accentuated her green eyes and headed outside onto the patio.
“Almost done for the day?” she asked, stopping just feet from where he stood, drinking in his rugged good looks.
“Yeah, I don’t suppose you could handle much more of me today,” he said.
“What do you mean?” she asked, cocking her head.
“I’ve been watching you, watching me, you horny slut. Your husband should bend you over his knees and spank that fine ass of yours, teach you a hard lesson, then spread your tight star and force his way in,” he said leaning in close to her lips, his eyes locked on hers, his hand slapping her bare ass beneath her short dress with a solid smack.
She winced as his mouth covered hers in a daring, bold kiss that silenced her. She fell under his spell, his hand firm on her jaw as he took control, powering his way in. She pulled away suddenly.
“I hear the garage door. It’s my husband,” she said shrinking from his embrace as he slapped her ass again.
“Pity, that. What I wouldn’t do to you if I had more time,” he said, the dimples pooling in each cheek as his cocky smile spread.
Her face flushed red, her ass tingling pink, she bolted inside to collect herself before she saw Doug. Her head racing along the trajectory of where her cheating heart might take her. She settled in an overstuffed chair by the fireplace and opened her book.
Doug entered the room, his tie already removed, as he draped his jacket over the love seat before sitting down in a matching chair.
“Hi Hon, how was your day?” She asked looking up.
“Not good. Tax season sucks and on top of all that a client called today and wants me to fly to San Fransisco tomorrow. Just drop everything and cater to me. They act like they own me. I’m getting tired of it. How about you? Anything exciting happen here?” He asked.
“Oh, not much. Travis is making progress on your desk. He’ll probably be done by the end of the week. It will be gorgeous when it’s finished. I can tell he’s very good with his hands,” she said getting up and walking over to where he was sitting.
“It better be for what he’s charging. I saw him leaving after I pulled into the garage. I would have stopped him but I was on my phone.”
Miranda traced her hand along the length of his arm and settled herself between his thighs.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I thought maybe we could,” she started as her hands moved to his cock.
“What’s gotten into you? You’re usually not this aggressive.”
“I thought we could be more spontaneous. Maybe try some new things,” she said reaching to unbutton his pants.
He grabbed her hands, stopping her. “If you insist on being fucked go lay down on the bed and wait for me like a lady.
She went to their bedroom and laid down, her dress still on with nothing underneath. She starred up at the ceiling imaging Travis hovering over her, his monster cock hard as iron and ready to stretch her wide and fill her deep. Doug entered the room and pulled his underwear off, his weak erection a disappointment. He rubbed her tits for a brief moment then mounted her, slipping his cock into her wanton hole. Again her head traveled to Travis as Doug pumped her several times with his inadequate tool, coming quick with a whimper before she even started. He rolled off with a sigh, his little dick spent and shriveled as he grabbed his underwear and headed for the shower closing the door behind him.
She reached into the end table and pulled out her Rabbit vibrator. She spread her legs wide and tucked the tip into the hood of her clit, the soft hum, music to her ears as she climaxed with thoughts of Travis stretching her boundaries.
Chapter 2
Miranda sat at the round mahogany two top at the Petite Cafe, waiting for her best friend Emmy to arrive. She was tall and buxom with short cropped platinum blond hair, a look that not everyone could pull off. She strolled in, wearing her trademark stilettos and a curve hugging black and white dress, a Dooney and Bourke shoulder bag. It was noisy at the Petite, all the sounds bouncing off the hard surfaces, which is what they liked about it. They could share naughty secrets and compare sex lives, like the Sex In The City girls while sipping on fine wine and checking out the other customers.
Their waiter arrived as Emmy sat down.
“Good afternoon ladies. I’m Sergio, I’ll be your server today. Can I start you out with a cocktail or a glass of wine?” He asked.
“I didn’t know cock’s were on the menu here,” Emmy said as Sergio began to blush.
“Don’t mind her. She had a depraved childhood. I’ll have a glass of KJ Chardonnay,” Miranda said.
“I’m just teasing. Sergio, you are adorable. Is it true what they say about Italian’s?”
“Yes. It’s true,” he said rubbing the scruff on his chin as he smiled revealing his perfect set of teeth.
“You just secured yourself an excellent tip. I’ll have a glass of the KJ, too Sergio,” Emmy said purring his name.
“Meow, you were all over that. A little horny are we?” Miranda asked.
“You know it. Babe alert. That guy over there, in the Armani suit with a thin gold watch on his wrist. Not a hair out of place. I’d like to see that head between my thighs. He’s probably a lawyer named Robert or Henry. I bet he has silk boxers on over his ten inch cock. I’d like to bookend his ears with my ankles while his monster dick pounds my pussy, stretching it wide, his balls smacking my ass,” her voice trailing off as she bit her lip and shuddered.
“You are so bad. But, I know what you mean. It’s like all of the sudden, I see erotic potential everywhere I look. The busboy for example. Look at that baby face, so innocent and hungry and eager. Probably has a sweet little girlfriend that he wants to pound regularly but she wont let him because she’s saving herself for marriage. I’d like to straddle his boner and ride him hard while he sucks my tits then cries for his mommy when he comes,” Miranda said trailing her fingers along the length of her bare neck as she watched him.
“Well, I guess we’re both suffering from one track mind syndrome today. All this dirty talk is making me really hot,” Emmy said fanning herself with drink menu.
“Speaking of hot, can you keep a secret?” Miranda asked staring intently at Emmy’s dark brown eyes.
“You know I can. How long have we been friends? Dish. What’s up?” Emmy asked.
“There’s this young guy, Travis. He’s the carpenter that Doug hired to build his desk. He’s been working at the house. I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s got this ass that won’t quit.”
“How young?”
“Twenty-five, tops,” Miranda said picking at her half eaten salad.
“Oooooohhhhhhhhh, tell me more,” Emmy said leaning in closer and taking a sip of her wine.
“He’s originally from Montana. He was a hotshot firefighter for a few years up there before moving here to work with his father in carpentry. He’s tall and dark and buff. I can’t get him off my mind. I fantasize about him taking control and having me in all sorts of naughty ways, fanning the flames deep inside me. Fuck, this guys got me bulging. I can’t control myself. Yesterday, he made a pass at me just before he was leaving for the day.”
“What did he do?”
“He slapped my ass, hard, then he started kissing me,” her voice trailed off as she remembered the exchange, his wet eager tongue taking hers.
“Then what happened?”
“I heard the garage door opening. It was Doug. I ran away from him into the house and didn’t look back.”
“And what about Doug? Are you ready to cheat?”
“I can’t waste the tail end of my dirty thirty’s worrying about that limp dick. I swear, he just doesn’t care anymore. I was all hot and horny yesterday after watching Travis so I attacked him when he came home. I suggested we try some new things and he shut me down. Instead he took me missionary style with that tiny worm he calls a dick. I need more. And now that he’s out of town for three days I’m ready to get it,” Miranda said, hailing Sergio for another round of wines.
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