by Lexi Archer
The picture wasn’t the greatest quality. We’re talking a picture taken with a phone camera from a decade past when they weren’t that great to begin with, and compounding that they had a bonfire behind and it was dark all around them. But still, there was enough light from the phone’s puny flash that I could clearly make out enough. Enough to send my mind spinning. Enough that I could feel cum leaking out of my cock as I ran my eyes over the picture.
Abby wore a pair of impossibly short shorts and a plaid button up shirt, only most of the buttons at the top and bottom were undone so I could clearly see her toned flat stomach below and the generous swell of her cleavage up above. God she was so fucking hot! I’d seen her wear similar outfits since, hell, I’d seen her wearing far less than that, but there was something about the way she looked in that picture with that outfit that turned me on.
And I’m sure the reason that outfit turned me on so much was right behind her. Was whose lap she was sitting in. Because he was right behind her with his arms around her, holding my wife possessively. And why not? They were young and in love, still in the flower of youth with no idea that their relationship was about to crash down around them.
The sight of her with another man was hot enough, but that wasn’t the entire reason why I was so turned on. No, it was what I knew about that night. That was the night. The night it almost happened. The night she admitted she’d almost lost control. The night he almost reached that ultimate goal he’d been trying to reach for so long.
Before I’d been relieved she didn’t go through with it. That we were each other’s firsts. And yet now as I looked down at the two of them the only thing I could think was how much I wished they’d gone through with it. All I could think about was them going off to some secluded spot for a little alone time together. Maybe in the back of a car. Maybe snuggled up together in a sleeping bag. The details weren’t important. What was important was the idea of his muscular body over my future wife’s petite body. Him looking down at her, staring down at her half naked body and drinking in the beauty that was her figure. His rock hard cock pressing against her.
I closed my eyes and moved my hand down to my cock. I undid my pants, pulled it out, and started stroking as I thought back to that night that almost was. I imagined him pressing his cock against her, her reaching out and stopping him at the last minute. I felt the mixture of arousal and disappointment he must’ve felt. Only in my mind it didn’t end with arousal and disappointment. In my mind she got so turned on that she relented. He pressed the head of his cock against my wife’s pussy, pushed up inside her completely unprotected, and took her for the first time. Claimed my wife’s virginity, took it from me half a year before I would even meet her for the first time and realize that was something I was interested in taking myself.
This felt so weird. It felt so wrong. I knew what I was thinking was crazy. How could I be getting so turned on by the thought of another guy fucking my wife before I even met her? Especially when it was a situation where he hadn’t actually fucked her but I found myself wishing he had? What was wrong with me?
And yet I couldn’t deny how turned on I was. How hot I felt. I couldn’t deny the feeling coursing through my body. The tingle rising at the base of my cock as it started to twitch. I was close to one hell of an orgasm. I felt so hot. It was so intense. I was surprised. I’d never felt this way from my hand before, and yet here I was. These forbidden thoughts were sending me over the edge in a way I’d never felt before while jerking it.
The garage door pulled me away from my fantasy world and back to reality. I sat there, cock in hand, my dick twitching but not quite near the edge. I thought about going ahead and finishing myself off, the gamble that some married men played when they were jerking off and their wife was nearby, but ultimately I decided that discretion was the better part of valor in this situation. There was no way I’d be able to finish, clean up, and put everything away without arousing Abby’s suspicion. Even if she did take a few minutes to pull everything in from her shopping trip.
As I shoved my cock back into my pants I had a brief moment of panic as the stimulation of my cock rubbing against my boxer shorts was almost enough to send me over the edge. I had to stand for a moment and think of baseball to prevent myself from blowing my load all over the inside of my shorts. As quickly as possible I stuffed everything back into the box and placed it back on the shelf. I tried to make everything look as close to normal as possible, though I don’t know why I bothered since she never came up here anyways. I doubted she’d suspect a thing even if I left everything strewn around.
The attic was mostly my territory. Still, better paranoid and cautious now than sorry later.
I grabbed the one bag of trash I’d put together and glanced at my phone as I came down. It looked like she’d been gone for about two hours. I blinked. Had I really been up here for that long? I really got that lost in my newly discovered fantasy world?
Suddenly I was very glad I’d gone ahead and taken the precaution of putting together my bag of trash before I got down to the fun.
As I moved downstairs I could already hear her moving around in the kitchen down below. Time to go down and see what she bought at the store. I hoped she followed my advice and bought something sexy!
4: Modeling
“Seriously? One bag of trash?”
I grinned and shrugged. What could I say? It’s not like I could exactly admit to my wife that I’d been up there jerking off to pictures of her from back before we met. From right before she went off to college. I’m sure she’d appreciate that far less than she was already not appreciating that I only managed to put together one bag of garbage from the attic.
Whatever. Time to change the subject. I glanced at the bags in her hands.
“So what did you get at the store? Anything good?”
Abby smiled a knowing smile at me as though she knew exactly what I was trying to do. Only she allowed herself to be distracted. She put a couple of her bags down and raised an eyebrow at me.
“Do you really want to see what I bought?”
There was something about the tone of her voice, something about the way she was smiling at me, something about the naughty little grin that played across her face as she asked that question that suddenly had me very intrigued. Very intrigued indeed. I glanced at the bags and licked my lips. What did she buy?
“Yes!” I said.
“Are you sure you want to see what I bought?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” I croaked.
Abby stepped forward and her body was pressing against mine. She wore a tank top and shorts. They were nothing so scandalous as what she’d worn in some of the pictures I was just looking at up in the attic, but they were definitely short enough that she had my attention. Besides, her pressing her body against me was enough to get my attention no matter what she wore. She could be in a burlap bag and my cock would stand to attention.
The combination of Abby pressing her sexy body against me and how close I already was to the edge courtesy of the little session I’d had up in the attic was driving me wild. My head was swimming. I was lightheaded, and I thought I was going to lose consciousness if she kept this up any longer. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to concentrate on anything but the delicious feeling of my wife pressing her tight petite body against mine.
My cock twitched and for a moment I worried that I might blow my load in my boxers just from having her pressing against me. Damn! I hadn’t had to worry about that since school dances way back in the day. I was definitely entering new territory. This fantasy was definitely taking me to levels of arousal I hadn’t experienced in some time.
I looked down to Abby. Her eyes moved down to my cock and then back up to meet my own. A smile crossed her face.
“You’re certainly excited,” she said.
“You have no idea.”
I was surprised I was even able to get the words out. Damn her body felt so good. I wanted to rip her clothes off
right here and fuck her on the kitchen counter, but that would ruin the fun. That would interrupt the show. I desperately wanted to know what was in those bags. I desperately needed to know what she’d bought for her reunion. What I could expect to see her parading around in. What I could expect to see other guys watching her in.
Was I going to see my sexy wife showing herself off a little? Or was she going to be in the same conservative business casual she usually wore to work?
Her hands snaked down and rubbed the length of my cock. “Someone must really be wondering if I was naughty with my shopping.”
I nodded. I didn’t trust myself to speak. I was afraid my voice would crack. I was afraid nothing would come out. I was afraid just the vibration from my voice running down through my body combined with the feeling of her hand rubbing against me, the fantasy from the attic pushing me so close to the edge already, and the mystery of what was in those bags, would cause me to blow my load against her hand.
“But you weren’t that interested in what I bought earlier,” she said with a pout on her face.
“What do you mean?”
“You weren’t interested enough to come shopping with me.”
I let out a strangled gasp. It was the best I could do. Was she really going to hold that against me? Was not going on a shopping trip with her the only thing that was going to keep me from knowing what she bought? Was she going to hold me in suspense? Was I only going to find out when we got to her reunion?
All those thoughts raced through my mind at light speed, and some of the anguish must have shown on my face because she laughed and pulled back. Pulled her hand away from my cock which left me gasping and panting in the middle of our kitchen.
“Go upstairs and get ready for the show silly,” she said. “You know I don’t like you following me around when I’m shopping anyways.”
I grinned. So there was going to be a show. All right!
I sprinted upstairs and threw myself on our massive bed. I got myself good and situated and waited for her to make her way up. She’d done fashion shows like this before, coming out of her big walk-in closet and doing a little twirl like she was a model on a runway. It was my favorite thing about her shopping trips. Especially if she’d gone shopping for something particularly naughty like lingerie or swimwear.
I just hoped she’d gone for something similarly naughty for her reunion.
Abby appeared right behind me with bags slung over her arms and disappeared into her walk-in closet. I don’t know if it was my imagination, but it seemed like she put a little extra sway into her walk as she disappeared. I found myself hypnotized by the way her ass moved in those shorts. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to reach down and started stroking my cock right there.
But no, I needed to hold back. I wanted to enjoy the show. The last thing I wanted was to ruin the moment by blowing my load too soon. Not to mention I’d have a hell of a time explaining to Abby why I was jerking off in the middle of the bed without any help from her.
I heard her shuffling around in the closet and I licked my lips in anticipation. I could only imagine what was happening back there. Slipping out of her tank top, out of her shorts, revealing that delicious tight ass, her perfect tits with those perfect cute pink tips I loved to suck on. She had a perfect body, so petite and tight, and I absolutely loved it. I absolutely loved her.
I imagined her slipping on some sexy little dress. Something that would make all the guys at her reunion look at her and immediately remember why it was they thought she was the hottest girl in their class. Something that would make her old boyfriend look at the one who got away and drive him insane with lust for my wife.
“Are you ready?”
“Ready!”
I was more ready to see my wife than I’d been in a good long while. There was something about the naughty extra dimension of this new fantasy that was sending me into overdrive. I was on fire.
Abby rounded the corner in a pair of shorts that so impossibly short that they would’ve made it easy to see her bush if she didn’t keep that meticulously shaved. Above that she had a button up shirt that was similar to what I’d seen in that picture I was staring at before she came home and so rudely interrupted my ogling. The buttons were open at the bottom revealing her tight stomach, still as flat and toned as it had been in that picture from all those years ago. And the top was unbuttoned down to the point that I could see her cleavage. I leaned forward and grinned. Judging from what I could see she hadn’t bothered to wear a bra with this particular outfit.
I scooted forward, fully intending to jump off the bed and pull her down next to me. Or maybe I’d carry her back to the walk-in closet and use some of that extra space we paid a premium for when we built the damn place to some good use for a change.
Only she held up a hand and wagged a finger at me. “Naughty boy. You have to see the whole show.”
I groaned but dutifully sat back on the bed and waited for the next outfit. I wasn’t disappointed when it appeared. This time she was in a skirt that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. It looked like it was made of silk or some other material. I imagined running my hand up her leg, up under that skirt and grabbing her ass through her panties. Up above it was even more breathtaking. She wore a white halter top that barely contained her tits. Once again it was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra because I could clearly see her nipples pressing out towards me through the thin white material. It was obvious how excited she was, and my cock throbbed as I stared at my gorgeous wife in that incredibly sexy outfit.
Abby did a twirl which caused the skirt to fly up and revealed her ass to me. I licked my lips.
“You like?”
I couldn’t speak. I just nodded my head eagerly. Holy shit was that thing sexy! I wondered exactly when she planned on wearing it, but then she was disappearing into the closet once more before I could ask her.
The anticipation was killing me. I had a feeling we were building up to something big.
One leg appeared from her closet and my cock twitched. That leg was in a knee-high leather boot and not much else. I could see all the way up her thigh. I leaned forward, wanting to drink in all of her beauty. What was that outfit? It was driving me wild. All I could think about was how it would drive the guys at her reunion wild.
A second leg appeared and she rounded the corner wearing what could only be described as the quintessential little black dress.
It was also the quintessential “fuck me” dress in addition to being the quintessential little black dress. Granted I was a little biased and tended to think that any dress my wife wore was a “fuck me” dress, but you get the point. It had a shimmer to it and it sparkled in the light of our bedroom as she did a quick twirl.
The dress was amazing. It molded to her body in all the right places. It seemed like the thing was held in place by magic, with no straps to be seen. It came up well above her knees showing a good expanse of her leg and thigh, and there was a split down one side that showed even more of her leg if I looked at the right angle. It plunged down in the front showing a generous amount of her cleavage. I wondered how that thing managed to stay in place. Double-sided tape? Some sort of dark magic designed to keep little black dresses on beautiful women?
I didn’t know. I didn’t care. All I knew was my cock was throbbing, my body was on fire, and I was already going insane from my session up in the attic just a half hour before. Seeing her in the outfits, especially seeing her in that dress, and thinking about what other guys would think of it when they saw her in that dress, what he’d think of it when he saw her. I was in sexual overdrive. I was in a frenzy. My cock was like a shark that had scented blood in the water, only I’d picked up on my wife and I had to have her.
I let out a low growl that made Abby smile. I stepped off of the bed and she wagged a finger at me. “Naughty boy. The show is over.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t respond. I just moved forward and picked her up. Swirled her around. P
lanted my lips against hers and pressed my cock up against her pussy where her legs were spread apart under that dress. God she felt so incredible. She wasn’t wearing a bra under the dress, and she also hadn’t bothered to put on any panties from the feel of things.
I got a thrill imagining that I was him. That I was dancing with her out on a dance floor, maybe in their old gym or whatever dance floor had been set up as part of the reunion. I imagined that I was reaching down between her legs and realizing she wasn’t wearing underwear. That I was getting a chance to touch my wife’s incredible tight pussy for the first time in over a decade. It made me lightheaded as back in reality I shoved my tongue into her mouth and we fell together on the bed.
I was a man possessed. I didn’t bother to take the dress off. I didn’t even bother to take my clothes off. I just reached down, undid my pants, fished my cock out, and then I was sinking inside my wife. Looking down at her as her mouth opened and she gasped.
“Holy shit baby!” she said.
I didn’t say anything. I just let out another growl. I sank into her as quickly as possible and then I was pounding in and out of her.
The force of my fucking was so intense, so hard, that her tits popped out of her dress. I tried to gather it up as best as I could, to pull it up over her stomach at least. And so my wife was lying underneath me with her dress bunched up around her thighs and a popped down below her tits which were bouncing up and down as I pounded in and out of her. As I imagined that I was her old boyfriend climbing on top of her in that very same dress after the reunion, sliding my cock in and out of her over and over again, overcome with lust and the overwhelming desire from ten years of fantasizing about the one that got away. Of fantasizing about the beautiful girl that he hadn’t been able to get with back in the day.