Karla could also remember the way men used to look at her back then, the hunger in their eyes when she passed. And she knew, in a way that made her blush even today, what she let some of those men do to her, when she was amenable to them.
Turning away from her reflection and her own lust-filled eyes, Karla stepped under the shower’s steaming, pounding stream, hot water embracing her curves, clinging to her body like countless prurient fingers dragging down her skin. Those days were long past, William had come into her life and changed all of that, but that knowledge couldn’t cause the feelings to dissipate, instead turning Karla’s desire into a soul-deep yearning for a time she could not return to. A time in her life when she was wanted, clearly and unambiguously, when she worked to be desired because she wanted to, not because she needed to in order to rouse even a little interest from her man.
Her younger days, when the lusts she could stir made her powerful.
No amount of good breeding or dependable jobs or stable lifestyles could bring that back. Jennifer’s adventures had stoked those feelings into new life, in a vicarious sort of way, but that had only made Karla desire its return with permanence. Chasing that nostalgic sensuality dominated her mind, and without consciously thinking about it, Karla’s fingers drifted between her legs, where droplets of water collected and ran down the insides of her thighs. Pleasure traveled easily in their wake, her body eager to feel it, receptive in its long-delayed arousal. She pressed down against her lips, and took in a sharp, gasping breath.
Steadying herself with spread legs and one hand flat against the tiles, Karla bowed her head and closed her eyes, delving into the perverse depths of her imagination. Jennifer was there already, in the darkness behind her eyes, so sinuous and sensual, all soft curves and delicate beauty. She wore nothing, and though Karla experienced a brief pang of embarrassment in picturing her friend that way, it quickly faded as another figure populated her mind, strong limbs and a masculine frame meaning it could be none other than Warren, Jennifer’s casual paramour.
How easy and complication-free it must all be for her, Karla mused. How satisfying, to be able to go out and seek what would make her fulfilled, and to have a husband that encouraged it all, his desire for her to enjoy herself so, so evident in this. It played out in her mind’s eye so easily, Karla’s imagined Jennifer laying across a bed, her back arched and taut in ecstasy, Warren driving into her again and again, harder each time, bouncing the blonde’s slight body up and down on the mattress. Those beautiful lips parted in a silent scream, small breasts bouncing with the man’s wild thrusts. His hands were all over her body, exploring her, taking possession of her…
No. No, she could do better than this.
As Karla ceased rubbing and slipped her fingers inside herself for the first time, wet walls clenching against the intrusion, her mental image of Jennifer faded, replaced with a simulacrum of herself. Now it was her in the throes of passion, her taking the intimidating girth of Warren’s cock, filled again and again to an extent she had never been before. Fucking herself in time with the imaginary sex, her masturbation rough and deep, Karla bit her lip to avoid crying out, the resultant whimpers subsumed by the drumming of hot water on tiles. Steam rose in curls and wisps around her, obscuring Karla’s clenching thighs and trembling form, her free hand climbing to cup her own breast as she imagined Warren’s doing likewise, squeezing her nipple between tightly clasped fingers.
The rasp of his teeth at her neck felt so real- aided by trailing her own nails down the side of her throat to simulate it- and Karla shuddered, rocking against her own fingers, against Warren’s thick erection, buried in her, the feeling so close that it was almost real… but not quite.
Not enough.
Panting, Karla slipped from the shower, still idly fingering herself, keeping the fires burning between her legs, and reached for her towel. Her reflection looked back at her with a challenging glare, eyes filled to bursting with arousal and stern demand; was she just going to let Jennifer have all the fun?
She dried herself and brushed out her hair, applying makeup one-handed so she could keep her fingers buried up to the last knuckle inside herself. She wasn’t about to let go of this feeling, not even for a second, and her arousal mounted as Karla made herself beautiful, whimpering softly to herself in the cool, tiled bathroom. Lotion was the final step, turning her skin soft and supple, every inch of her pale and attractive- just as she had been all those years ago, damn it- and ready; ignoring her clothes, Karla ventured out into the bedroom.
William was there, already under the covers and clad in worn, soft lounging clothes; evidently he had been prepared to simply go to bed tonight. But Karla had other plans in mind, the sensations still swirling around her hips dictating the course of the night over and above anything else. Her husband turned his head as she entered, cocking an eyebrow over the rim of his reading glasses at the sight of her nudity. His eyes flicked down her body before returning to her eyes, what desire she stirred in him somehow still not enough to get him to move.
‘You forget something, hon?’ The tone in his deep, attractive voice was humorous, yet still a little distracted by her. William remained in bed, but his gaze remained stuck on her nonetheless; she hadn’t lost him completely.
‘No,’ Karla responded, shaking her head in such a way to make her dark, glossy hair fall over her shoulders in the most attractive way that she could muster. ‘Just remembering some things.’
As her husband watched her, Karla sauntered her way over to the bed, lifted the covers and bounced her way beneath them, becoming a vague lump beneath the sheets as she crawled in toward the center of the bed. There was a moment of shifting fabric, and the soft sound of a button being undone; the blanket rose right above William’s crotch.
‘Hey there!’ He exclaimed, stiffening suddenly as his wife’s lips fastened around the head of his cock, sucking softly. There was a tremble in his voice as he continued. ‘What’s gotten into you?’
‘Fuck me,’ Karla murmured, taking care to keep William’s tip in her mouth, bobbing it to hardness as he raised the blanket to get a better look at her. ‘Let’s have some fun…’
Karla heard him open his mouth to say something more, though her eyes closed with the effort of taking his length as deep into her throat as she could, the squeezing therein taking William’s breath away. He made a sound, masculine and deeply hot, as she held herself there for as long as she could, holding her breath and reveling in the sensation of him thickening against her tongue. Keeping her lips clasped tightly to his shaft, Karla raised her head, dragging her sucking mouth up the entirety of his now throbbing dick, until he slipped out with an audible pop.
‘I know I can make you have some interesting dreams tonight,’ she purred, slithering up his body while ensuring that her breasts brushed against him almost the entire way. They were face to face quickly, and Karla knew that she had him; though he hadn’t yet reached the same level of intensity as those horny frat boys she had taken back to her dorm room, Karla knew the look in her husband’s eye. And she had plenty of time to get him there…
Straddling his waist, Karla wasted no time in positioning herself over his spit-shined rod and lowering herself down upon it, mewling quietly at the sensation of it splitting her folds and sliding inside her. William was no eleven inches, he was no mountain of a man, but he had plenty to work with where it counted, and by the time she had reached the base, Karla was pleasantly full. Leaning forward, she kissed her husband, and felt in that moment the first discordant pang, a troubling sign of things to come.
Oh, William returned the kiss, in his own way, opening his mouth and inviting her tongue to play over his, but it was in such a thoroughly reactive way, lacking any of the initiative Karla had hoped to instill in him tonight. Still, she wasn’t going to be deterred so easily, and as Karla began to roll her hips against her husband’s erection, she let one hand rise to curl through his thick, black hair, keeping his head close to continue the kiss, de
eper and more passionately than before. When that didn’t work, she leaned back, arched herself as attractively as she could, displayed her bare chest with all the charged sensuality Karla had accumulated this night. Perhaps visual stimulus was the key to enticing William.
‘You’re so wet,’ he whispered, and Karla giggled in response, dragging her fingernails down his chest, through his shirt.
‘That’s because I want you, Will…’ She cooed, tightening herself around his shaft and feeling him tense up as a result. Despite the desire dripping from her voice, it was hard for Karla to deny the truth; what she saw in William’s eyes was more concentration than it was lust.
This was something that had needled at the back of Karla’s mind for years now, her husband’s rather goal-oriented lovemaking, his unwillingness to slow down and live in the moment of unity with her, but tonight the contrast between the reality and what she had built up in her mind was somehow worse than all the time that had preceded it. The sheer mechanistic focus of it, the sense that William was holding himself back in order to get his wife off so that she would be satisfied, so that all this could end and he could go back to doing what he actually wanted to do, lingered like a traitorous specter over every moment of this. In turn, Karla focused herself, turned inward toward the fantasy she had tried to project onto her husband, the sparks she had tried to fan into a flame within him that now sputtered and threatened to wink out in their marital bed.
She didn’t close her eyes, didn’t retreat into the motivated, artificial fucking that William did; instead, Karla’s mind wheeled, tried to find the thing she could do to inflame his desires, even as each attempt to reach out faltered. But with each thrust that failed to live up to the promise of the ones in her fantasy, every moment that lacked the crackling energy that she had imagined of Jennifer, Karla felt the sex of her dreams slip farther away. In time, she gave in to it, her hopes of recapturing the wild, ecstatic feeling of her youth faded and gone.
Still, she came, if only in a vague, shuddering way; it wasn’t that William was bad in bed, just… distant, in a way Karla felt difficult to retrieve him from. She did not have the explosive, thigh-clenching paroxysm of utter pleasure that she had envisioned for herself in the shower, and when William came himself, he was not the growling, all-encompassing beast of a man she had wanted him to be. The room was altogether quiet, as the two of them quivered automatically through their climaxes, Karla’s eyes closed as she absorbed the sensations and tried, unsuccessfully, to catch as many of the lingering threads of her fantasies as possible, to hold them close.
William kissed her as he slid out of Karla, his lips conveying fondness at least, if not passion. Words passed between them, affirmations that it had been good, that held no real shape or meaning, things that would be forgotten by the next morning. Lights were turned off, and in the darkness Karla all too quickly heard her husband’s breathing shift into the steady, deep rhythms of sleep. She stared into his back through the gloom, not unsatisfied, just filled with a directionless sense that there was something more she could have been having too.
Something they were both missing out on.
The words to convey that died on her tongue, however, unspoken in the night. She slept, fitfully, and dreamed of strong arms around her, harsh breath on her neck, and the sort of fulfillment that, for now, would have to remain a dream.
***
‘Are you gonna be okay over there on your own? A month is kind of a long time for a business trip, isn’t it?’
‘I suppose I’ll have to be,’ Karla shrugged, fully cognizant that Jennifer could not see her through the phone line. ‘I just tune out when Will starts talking work. Something something merger, blah blah finances… it’s all French to me.’
‘Well, where’s he going this time?’ Jennifer emphasized the “this,” seeming to suggest that it was at least one time too many.
‘Oh, France,’ Karla replied, and heard her friend laugh from the other end of the line. ‘I’m sure the souvenirs will be especially nice this time.’
‘But only the souvenirs, right?’ It wasn’t a judgment, it was a prediction. ‘While you’re over there… I’m thinking Netflix and wine? Am I close?’
‘No,’ Karla flushed, and closed the Netflix tab that had been open on her laptop. ‘I was thinking I’d do some shopping, actually.’
‘For a month?’ Jennifer was skeptical. ‘We should go out. I hate to think of you all alone up there with nobody to take care of you.’
‘Tell me about it. It’s been weeks since he and I…’ Karla trailed off, and sighed. ‘He’s very busy, he works really hard for me, I know. I’ve got no reason to complain, but I’m not made of stone, Jennifer! I have needs!’
There was silence on the other end of the line, and it lingered just a little too long, until: ‘That’s a reason to complain on its own, hon. Listen, you know my friend, Warren? Why don’t you let me set you up with him while Will’s away? No pressure, you don’t have to do anything with that, but you could at least meet with him, see what I’m talking about. Maybe it’d be good for you.’
‘I don’t know, Jennifer…’
‘Listen, I’m not asking you to do anything untoward. Let me make some calls, see what I can line up for us,’ Jennifer’s grin was practically audible down the phone line. ‘I’m getting you out of that house. Trust me. Talk to you later.’
She hung up then, the phrase “trust me,” striking Karla as a particularly ominous way to end such a conversation. There was nothing else for it, though; texting Jennifer one final message- “Don’t do anything too crazy, please”- was all that could be done, and Karla contented herself to a quiet day in, without her husband but with a surplus of junk entertainment. For a large part of the day this turned out to be true, but as the sun began to set outside Karla’s living room window, her phone buzzed to life, displaying Jennifer’s number once more.
‘Okay girl, you up for a hot-ass little adventure?’
Karla cocked an eyebrow. ‘Should I be worried?’
‘What is life without risk?’ Jennifer said, solemnly. ‘What you should be is down in the warehouse district, Friday night at nine. Get yourself all made up, we wanna be dressed to kill, Karla. Look as hot as you wanna feel, and I’ll take care of the rest. Deal?’
‘…Deal,’ Karla murmured, after a long period staring into the middle distance. Banishing the feeling that Jennifer intended to push her across a line she shouldn’t cross proved impossible, and that did give Karla momentary pause, but…
She could still feel the echoes of the feeling she had chased in the shower that night, weeks ago, as a music hall might recall the strains of a master violinist. Her body thrummed with long lost sensations, emotions, the power that Karla had long thought lost in her youth. Ignoring that wasn’t an option, and if Karla had to skirt a few lines and see what the wild side had to offer to sate it, then that was what she would do.
‘Good girl,’ Jennifer purred, a wink lingering in her voice. ‘See you then!’
Silence. Karla tilted her head back, mind suddenly awhirl with new thoughts gesturing to old outcomes. Maybe it would be just for one night, one night out on her own, not a wife but a woman again… but it would be her night. Her night, to meet new people, to drink, to flirt, to prove just how little her old beauty had faded. Didn’t she deserve that?
All at once, Karla’s mind filled with images of men, young men, all out to talk to her, be with her, drink in her presence. Those thoughts progressed to others, a natural if prurient flow guiding Karla back to sexy places, ones that had hurt to think of, somewhat, since her failed attempt at making them a reality that night after brunch with Jennifer. Her legs spread on instinct, lips parting, and she closed her eyes, let the fantasy take her away. Karla’s hand slipped, surreptitiously, between her thighs and under her skirt.
After all, Friday was still a long, long way away…
***
Karla had gone out and gotten herself a new dress, for when Friday
rolled around.
It was black, and it was small, and it was form-fitting. It showed off her legs and her cleavage and, if she was careful how she held her back, could turn her ass into something else entirely. In every sense, it was perfect for the kind of sexy adventure that a person like Jennifer might have arranged.
Pleasured at Last (A swinger, hotwife, menage erotic story) Page 2