“Yes,” she panted, “oh… oh my gah...”
She placed another hand on my head, and pushed me toward her. I resisted her strength, and continued at my own pace. I watched her as she threw her head back again and the tendon in her neck strained against her skin. “Oh god, that’s what I wanted him to do.”
I could feel her nearing the edge again, so I slowed my attack on her clit to tease her some more. She practically wailed as she sank down from her tiptoes and clawed at my hair. “Please don’t stop,” she said.
“Tell me what else you were thinking about.”
She made another sound.
I was already unbuttoning my jeans and rising up to get them down to my knees. When I was kneeling I reached up and pulled her down to me, bringing her to her knees on the floor. Once she was on the floor, I was able to grab her by her hair.
I took my cock out with one hand, and pushed her toward it. “You can just show me,” I said.
Megyn was already heading for my cock with her mouth open.
“That’s it,” I said. “Show me how you’d suck his cock.”
I had my dick in my hand and my other hand on her head. She opened her mouth and took me inside, her lips barely touching my cock until the length of it was inside her mouth. She closed her lips at the base of my cock to make a tight seal and began to suck on my dick like she hadn’t done for years.
“Fuck,” I said, because with just a few strokes up and down the length of my shaft, I was almost boiling over into her mouth. I looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to take my mind off the intense pleasure of her sucking, but it didn’t help.
“Oh god,” I said. I pulled gently on her head to let her know I was going to come, and maybe I whispered, “I’m going to come.”
She brought herself up to the head of my cock, and opened her mouth just enough to say, as she licked and slurped the crown: “I thought you wanted me to show you what I was thinking about.”
Her words were muffled by all the dick in her mouth, and the syllables ended in wet slurps. The image of her sucking on a big, black cock the same filthy way went through my head and I felt cum surging from the base of my dick before I could make a sound.
Megyn had her hand around my shaft, surely she felt it coming – but instead of pumping the cum from me like she ordinarily would have, she swallowed my cock whole, and I felt my seed pummel the back of her throat as I exploded in her mouth.
And then, to my utter disbelief, she swallowed. I could feel it around the tip of my cock.
She sucked my shaft clean and let my dick fall out of her mouth with a firm plop. I was still pretty hard. Leaning back on my hands, I panted in disbelief, staring at my wife.
She rose up on her knees, and leaned over my lap, her ass in the air. “Now,” she said. “Fair’s fair.”
She used one hand to pull her lips apart, and I leaned down, taking her buttocks in my hands to spread her further open. Her pussy was gushing, and her clit was swollen and pulsing in the quivering flesh of her cunt.
It was a strain, but I bent over and found her clit with my tongue. I began to lap at her drenched cunt, and her flesh squelched as I stroked her clit with my tongue until her whole body was shaking.
“Oh,” she whispered, and then she moaned. “Oh, God.”
And then I felt her juices welling up, coating my chin, her body went rigid, and she screamed as she came.
I straightened up, my back a little strained with the awkwardness of my position.
Megyn moved forward, and stretched out on the floor. The sight of her body, long and feline, with her jeans so inappropriately tangled around her ankles and her red hair shiny with cum, made my cock thicken again.
She rolled onto her back. Her legs were on my lap now. I had dropped down onto the floor, and I was still breathing a little heavy from the excitement. Megyn pushed her hair out of her face. It was damp with sweat and strands of it stuck to her neck. “Whoa,” she said.
There was a silence before we both laughed.
Megyn kicked her jeans and panties off, and I helped her pull them completely from her ankles.
“All that,” she said. “And I didn’t even try my new lingerie on.”
Ah, yes. The lingerie.
I felt a small wave of disappointment lap at my insides. It was too bad that we hadn’t gotten any use out of that lingerie, but it was too much to hope for that my wife of thirteen years was going to put lingerie on and seduce me after all this.
Megyn turned onto her stomach again, rifling through the bags scattered on the floor. I had another nice view of her ass, of her juices smeared over her skin, and my cock pulsed with hope.
The bags rustled as she searched for the lingerie. Finally, she found what she was looking for and pulled the beige bra and panty set out of the bag.
She tried to whistle, which she wasn’t very good at, and then flipped onto her back to hold the set above her head and admire it.
“Wow,” she said. “I never would have thought…"
She jerked her head suddenly toward me. “Wait. Did you buy this to match my dress?”
I wasn’t sure what she was implying with her question, and I couldn’t tell by her tone how she found the idea: hot, or creepy. After all, it was one thing to talk about this stuff and quite another to spend $200 on underwear that matched a dress your wife was wearing to see another man besides yourself.
“Well, it’s not for him,” I said, as the silence dragged on.
She sat up on her elbows. “It’s not, huh?”
I shook my head.
There was truth to this, I thought, regardless of how you looked at it. Because really, even in the darkest chapters of my fantasies, even as he pumped his cock into my wife’s pussy, it was not for him.
Megyn surprised me by standing up and taking the lingerie into the bathroom with her. “Well,” she said. “Might as well see how they look.”
I sat on the floor for a bit, stunned by wife’s behavior and catching my breath. Then I kicked off my pants and stood up. As I walked over to the bed, I peeled my shirt off.
I caught sight of myself in the mirror and looked at myself from the side and then full frontal.
My cock was already getting hard again, and I appraised the size. I’m an average guy in that department, according to every girl I’ve ever known. It helped that my cock was hard, because I feel like it looked unfairly small when it was flaccid.
I had gained a little weight over the years, right around the middle, so the lanky, adolescent body I’d had when I met Megyn was gone. But I still looked pretty good. I ran my fingers through my hair. I have brown hair and a nondescript face. No one, I heard Cassie say one night at dinner, would kick me out of bed. Unless someone better showed up.
I smiled thinking of Cassie’s smart-ass remarks.
Then I threw the covers back and settled in on the bed.
It seemed like an eternity while I waited for Megyn, During which time I had time to think about all the day. All of the exhilarating teasing Megyn had done.
It was great, and I certainly couldn’t argue with the obvious… hard evidence… that I liked it, but there was an edge to it that was making me a little nervous.
All this time, all the time I’d kept this secret, whenever I’d imagined telling my wife, I had only thought about how she would react at that moment. I never got any further than that because I inevitably thought about her frowning, or crying, or throwing something at me… and then I didn’t want to think about it anymore.
Never, when I pictured a realistic aftermath of my telling her about my fantasy, had I thought about Megyn reacting like this.
Embracing my fantasy.
“Getting” my fantasy.
Understanding it so well.
And being so willing to participate in it.
Even more unsettling, however, was her clear enjoyment of it.
The door clicked, interrupting my thoughts.
I stared at my wife, moving my eye
s from toe to head and back again. My breath was caught in my throat.
She had gone through the extra trouble of making the entire outfit even sluttier, by putting on the boots we’d purchased.
The tan leather slouched tightly against her calves, and hugged her just below the knee. Her bare thighs, a little shiny with the nylon from her stockings, rose from the boots like the stems of an elegant flower.
The band of beige lace was thick and encased her leg at mid-thigh. The elastic didn’t dent her tight muscle. I had never seen her wear pantyhose like these. The effect was sensual and a bit slutty.
The panties fit her well, and she gave a little turn to give me a full view. They were transparent except at the edges, so her naked bottom could be seen in all of its glory – and it looked particularly glorious and firm because she was in those heels.
The bra fit her breasts snugly, and shaped them into a pleasant, almost curved-square shape. The lace cupped her skin the way I wanted Max to cup it.
“So?” she said. She gave me another little twirl. “Do you think Max will like it?”
I raised a finger and beckoned her to me. She crawled onto the bed, that same mischievous look in her eyes that had been driving me wild all day.
I watched my wife crawling toward me. She seemed like a different person. It was much less of stretch than ever to imagine that she would actually do this with another man, actually crawl toward him and lure him to her with this green-eyed stare.
She rose up on her knees when she was about a foot away from me. I gazed at her for a long time, wondering what to do with her next. I wanted to get her on her hands and knees and hold onto the heels of her boots while I fucked her senseless from behind. I wanted to bounce her up and down on my cock like a rag doll, her tits bouncing in front of my face. My hands twitched with all the ideas I had.
Megyn climbed over my legs and scooted up toward me, my legs between hers. I could smell her excitement, the acrid scent of my cum, and her sweat. She reached down between her legs and found my cock, without taking her eyes off mine. She guided the crown of my dick between her legs and rubbed it on the sheer material of her panties.
I could feel that she was wet, soaking right into them.
She pressed my cock against the inflated knob of her clit, and I felt it dart away under the pressure and heard a little squish. She moved my cock in a circle until she found just the right spot, and she dragged my dick along her clit. The material of the panties was ever-so-slightly rough, like the material of a trampoline, but it was also damp and hot as her pussy oozed into it.
A little puff of air escaped her lips. I could feel something coating the tip of my cock, but it well could have been me, leaking from the swollen, strained crown of my shaft.
I was hypnotized by her stare. She maintained it for a while, and she might have stroked herself to climax while I stared at her, but then she closed her eyes sleepily, and I lost control of myself.
I hooked my thumb under her panties and shoved them to one side of her pussy. Then I pulled her down and onto my cock, thrusting my hips up to get deep inside of her.
She gasped, and opened her eyes, a little surprised.
I rammed my dick deep into her pussy, and pulled her down onto me, until it felt like even my balls were getting sucked up into her gaping, soaked hole.
“No,” I said. “Close your eyes and think – about – getting – fucked – by – a – big – black – cock – you – little – slut!”
I punctuated each of these words by bouncing her up and then slamming her pussy onto my dick. She obeyed me as soon as the command was given, though, and closed her eyes. And as I jerked her up and down my shaft, it really was easy to believe that my wife was imagining herself getting rammed by a black bull.
By Max Riley.
“Oh!” she said. “Oh!”
“That’s it,” I said. “Ride that cock. Ride that black cock until I fill your pussy up with cum.”
Megyn rose up on her strong legs and began to bounce herself up and down on my dick. She braced herself on my shoulders, and leaned her head back. Her tits bounced up and down as she hammered away on my cock.
“That’s it, you little slut. Milk that cock for a nice big load.”
And she did. She bounced and squeezed until my cock exploded inside of her. I grabbed her hips and pulled her down hard onto me, until I felt like she might split. She came at the same time, her eyes flying open wide, her mouth frozen in a silent scream.
She bounced a few more times, sending a few waves of excruciating pleasure down my shaft and into my balls. I grasped her hips to steady her because I couldn’t take any more stimulation.
Her panties had rubbed my cock raw, which I was only just then beginning to feel.
I pulled at the straps of her bra, and peeled it away from her breasts. I placed my face between them, and kissed her as I calmed my breathing.
I could feel my cum trickling from inside of her and down my balls. Her pussy was still spasming with her orgasm.
I felt a little laugh rumble in her chest, and then she rolled away from me, lying down on her back. “Wow,” she said. “I guess that lingerie really works.” Her voice was sleepy even by the end of her sentence, and we both drifted off a little.
After a bit, She rolled over to lay her head on my chest. I had started to drift off… the hotel was deadly quiet, and only the light in the hall illuminated the otherwise dark interior.
After a bit, I realized that rather than sleeping, Megyn was stroking my hand.
“So just how serious is this fantasy?” she said.
I felt my heart rate soar again, instantaneously.
This woman was going to give me a heart attack.
I had never really prepared for this question, and I certainly hadn't expected it right at this moment.
I had no idea what to say. My mind raced through everything I had actually just said.
What if I told her it was serious, really serious? What would she do? What if I told her that I actually wanted her to whore herself out like a filthy slut to any man with a big cock that she could find -
I mean, I didn’t want that.
I enjoyed thinking about it.
I quickly dismissed telling her about that aspect of my fantasy.
But what if…? What if Megyn harbored some kind of fantasy, herself? What if she was also very close to confessing it to me, and we both remained silent because we assumed what the other wanted, or we were too afraid to tell each other the truth? What if she secretly wanted me to give her permission to fuck another man?
Specifically, Max Riley?
Here was a path I had never really ventured down in my own mind. The idea that I would ever be this close to telling Megyn – really telling Megyn, had seemed preposterous. I had never faced the question with any seriousness: Would I really do it, if she wanted something like that as well? Would I really tell her to go ahead with it?
Her fingers were stroking my hand with greater impatience. “Honey?”
I snapped out of my reverie.
I tried to talk, but found that I needed to clear my throat. “I, uh… no, it’s fantasy. Mostly. Pretty much. Yeah, I wouldn’t… I like thinking about it...”
As I was floundering, Megyn propped herself up on her elbow. “Are you serious right now?”
She wasn’t angry, I noted with relief. She was even smiling a little, or at least I thought I could discern that in the very dim glow of the alarm clock light.
I sucked in my breath. “Uh.. yeah, well, yeah. I’m… sort of serious.”
Megyn fell down and rolled onto her back again. “But… not really, right? I mean, you wouldn’t actually want me to do anything with him.”
I decided to turn the tables in order to stall.
“Well, what about you? Would you ‘actually’ want to do anything with him?”
I felt her turn her head to look at me. I wondered if she was staring at me, trying to decide how she married such a pervert
ed monster.
But when she turned her head back to face the ceiling, she said quietly: “That’s a loaded question.”
And then a silence came over us, and after a while it was just too late to start the conversation again. I don’t think either one of us was sleeping, but we were both pretending to after a while.
I had resigned myself to perhaps never hearing about the topic again by the next morning. After all, it had been a bit of fun, and wild sex, but something seemed to have rubbed Megyn the wrong way and when that happened, her usual approach was to pretend like it hadn’t happened.
That’s what she seemed to be doing, as she fluffed the pillows and made the hotel bed. When I gave her a strange look she laughed at herself and said, “habit,” with a shrug.
Not that the atmosphere was chilly: quite the opposite. Megyn touched me affectionately as she hummed around the room. We ordered room service, and she put her feet on top of mine while we ate at the small table next to the window. I was still smoldering inside from her comment, just before we drifted off to sleep. That’s a loaded question.
Every time I thought of her saying that, my pulse shot through the roof and my insides twisted.
“Great view,” Megyn said sarcastically, looking out the window and bringing a cup of coffee to her lips.
It may have been a nice (and expensive) hotel, but it overlooked an interstate exchange and the view was pretty grim. A sliver of water peeked between the buildings, which may have given the hotel the audacity to call itself “Shoreline Gardens.”
We had a good laugh about the name, which we both found to sound more like a retirement home than a hotel where one had seedy sex.
In the middle of all this bonhomie, Megyn set her coffee cup down on the saucer with crack. “So I’ve been thinking about our conversation from last night,” she said, and moved quickly to the next sentence, as though she had a rehearsed speech building up inside her and she just couldn’t wait to get it out. “And I think it’s just too much for me to… really do. I obviously find it appealing, the um...” she cleared her throat, “fantasy aspect of it. But I have to just leave it at that. I think that’s what we should do. Just leave it at that.”
Megyn For The Win: A Romantic Hotwife Novel Page 8