by David Stone
Though I was ready to come, I held back. When Kristen stopped spasming she lifted herself off my cock and got on her knees. She looked up at me. “Now you can come. Come in my mouth!”
She started sucking my cock. Her fingers tickled my balls. She was clearly an expert. I looked at Donna. She was intently watching us. Ed had scooted next to her and she was pumping his cock as he fondled her breasts.
That knocked me off the ledge. I felt my cock pulse in Kristen’s mouth. I streamed into her and she swallowed hard, pumping me until there was nothing left. She released my cock with a popping sound and sat back in my lap. She gave me a sloppy, wet kiss, flavored with our joint chemistries, a penalty for what I’d just done to her, a retribution. Then she hugged me, pressing her lovely breasts into my chest.
Wow. I hadn’t expected that, especially not that finished, especially not in front of her husband. Of course, at this point, that was silly. We were all in this together.
Kristen lifted off my lap and stood beside me smiling ear to ear. She kissed the top of my head again and I put my arm around her waist. We both now looked at Ed and Donna. Donna’s eyes smiled at mine as she stood up and moved around so that she was on my left side. She bent over the kitchen table and wiggled her bottom, looking at Ed.
He stood and got behind her. He bent down to his knees and buried his face in Donna’s ass. She immediately gripped the table, totally unexpecting the tongue that was now lashing her ass and pussy. His head moved up and down as he lapped her in. Donna bit her lip, clearly loving this attention.
Then Ed stood. His cock looked enormous. Once again I couldn’t imagine how Donna was able to take it all in. Ed rubbed his cock up and down Donna’s butt crack and down to her pussy, then he bent his knees and buried his shaft. Donna nearly leaped. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the table edges. Ed was now lifting her feet off the ground with each thrust. Donna gasped and wailed, her eyes squeezed firmly shut, then opened wide, as if in shock. Or was it terror? Was she in pain or ecstasy? It was hard to tell.
Then she too, like Kristen, started to exclaim: “OH SHIT, ED!!! You’re so DEEP! OH GOD, YES, FUCK ME HARDER. OH JESUS. I’M, I’M, I’M COMING!!! OH GOD YES!!!
Ed pounded into her. Donna’s wails subsided into deep, barreling moans. She seemed to freeze for a moment and then jerked violently as spasms overwhelmed her body. She finally went limp, then whimpered quietly. A tear streamed down her cheek. Ed pulled out. His cock was as hard as ever. He rubbed Donna’s back gently, leaning on her ass, slowly rubbing his cock up and down her crack.
Intuitively, I guessed, Donna knew Ed hadn’t come. She stood then got to her knees. She looked up into Ed’s eyes as she took his cock into her mouth. She inhaled as much as she could, then started pumping his shaft and massaging his balls with her other hand, which she then sucked too before swallowing his cock again. She never stopped looking into Ed’s eyes. When she sensed Ed was about to come, she released his cock from her mouth. She pumped it, aiming at her face, still looking into his eyes. She looked like a young innocent serving her master, though the act she was performing clearly was not innocent.
Ed’s knee’s seemed to quake. Donna’s hand was now pumping harder, almost frantically. Ed started coming violently, his cum streaming in hot jets onto Donna’s face. She didn’t blink. It kept coming. It dripped down her cheeks, her nose, her eyebrows. With a final spasm, the last of his cum streamed onto her open mouth. She sucked to get the final drops, gently stroking his cock as if to empty it. She swallowed hard and stood up and they hugged.
Donna then seemed overcome with shyness or embarrassment, aware that her face was dripping with Ed’s cum. She was now a naughty girl who couldn’t deny the evidence of it. She went over the sink and washed, then dried herself with a hand towel. She returned to Ed and gave him another hug, then stood beside him with her left arm around his waist, mimicking Kristen, whose arm was still around me as she stood next to me.
Kristen and I hadn’t moved an inch since Donna went down on her knees. Watching her inhale Ed’s cock required all of our attention. One wouldn’t have believed it possible, that she could literally take his cock into her mouth and have it disappear. And then the rest...
Watching Ed’s ejaculate drip down my wife’s cheeks, with her appearing so eager for this to be the case, was just mind-numbing. It wasn’t the sort of thing you see everyday. It wasn’t even on my wish list, but in a moment of erotic possession, some things can strike you in ways you never envisioned possible.
Ed sat down with a look of utter depletion. Kristen left my side and went over to Donna. She bent down and kissed the top of her head and put her arm around her shoulder.
“Wow,” she said. “That was something, Donna. Ed’s going to remember that until the day he dies. We all will.”
Donna smiled, putting a hand on Kristen’s. “I guess we both just want to make our men very happy, don’t we?”
Kristen bent down and kissed her head again. “I know they’re happy now, Donna. We could probably hit them up for some expensive gifts.”
I couldn’t have agreed more. Ours were the hottest wives on the planet, and they deserved rich gifts.
It occurred to me that I’d just blessed my own wife, at her request, with an expensive kitchen remodel. Standing in that new kitchen nearly a week before, she confessed she let Ed finger her pussy. At first shocked, I thought the new kitchen had been a bad investment. Cearly the marriage was over. Now, just moments ago, this same man had come all over her face, and I couldn’t have been happier.
I was completely and totally in love with my wife.
It’s odd how that worked out. I wondered what would happen if I put in an in-ground swimming pool.
THE END
The Wife Chronicles
Love Thy Neighbor is part of The Wife Chronicles, a new series of stand-alone, thematically related stories I hope you will read with pleasure. They involve smart couples enduring the trials and tribulations of married life as they explore their sensuality. Their courageous explorations are always rewarded with happy consequences.
Coming soon: The Hotwife Project. Sign up for my mailing list to receive previews and advance notice of new books in the series.
Thanks for reading.
David Stone
Whoops! Nobody’s Perfect
PREVIEW - NOW ON AMAZON
Author’s Notes: Whoops
What should we call our first forays into the world of love and, more specifically, lovemaking? Rehearsals? What if none of those rehearsals went well or, even worse, went terribly wrong? It could leave one wondering if there was any point to drawing another breath.
The protagonist in Whoops has had an unlucky go in the passion department. She’s given up on men. Then, one warm, sunny day, all that changes. In this case, that day is the spark that ignites a passion-filled arc in my protagonist’s journey to figure it all out. She learns she doesn’t have to live a life without passion.
Unlucky for her are a few of the surrounding circumstances that encompass her journey. Fortunately, they unfold and reveal in comedic fashion (well, aside from a single unfortunate suicide).
Most of us, hopefully, when not cringing at memories of our first attempts at proper lovemaking and romance, are having a good laugh. A New York Times article once said the problem with sex was keeping it interesting. I’m not entirely sure about that, but I do know getting it right is often a challenge, sometimes hilariously so.
***
Whoops: Nobody’s Perfect
A Novel By Daniel Stone
TASSIE COLLINS IS TAKING A SHOWER
On a warm Midwest morning in mid-summer, Tassie Collins was taking a shower in the upstairs bath of her childhood home. She was a tall and athletic woman in her twenties, and very good looking, though she didn’t stress that side to the world. Today, carnal thoughts menaced her good virtue, from which she now sought relief. For better access and stability, she raised one foot and rested it on the edge of th
e tub in which the shower stood. She first gently, and soon with increasing rhythm and scope, pleasured herself with her fingers. As she neared the blessed moment when her eyes rolled back into her head as her body convulsed, the bathroom door burst open.
“Hey, I’ve got to pee!” The voice belonged to her handsome neighbor’s son Wayne. As their parent’s houses were next to each other, they’d grown up in close proximity and were always welcome in each other’s home. Wayne’s spying and bursting in was simply the consequence of the ease with which it could be executed. None of the doors in Tassie’s house had functioning locks.
Wayne was also the grown son of her mother’s not so secret lover.
“Jesus Christ, Wayne!” She gave up her project and restored herself to dignity, or as much as she could have given the circumstances. “Please don’t flush.” This instruction was to make him aware that flushing the toilet would turn the shower’s hot water stream into a scalding torrent while its tank replenished itself.
Wayne flushed.
“You’re an asshole, Wayne.” Tassie aimed the shower head to the wall to avoid third-degree burns. Wayne pulled aside the shower curtain in response.
“Tassie, your puss is bald. You should have that examined.”
Tassie pulled the curtain to close it but Wayne resisted this attempt. Her Plan B was to tell him to fuck off again.
“Fuck off, Wayne.”
“Hey. Your mom wants us to go to the liquor store to stock up for the wake. You have to drive.”
Tassie continued her shower once the water temperature returned to normal, ignoring Wayne’s fixated stare upon her naked body. “Why do I have to drive?”
“My license is fucked up at the moment and Maureen’s not available.”
“Oh. Right. Okay. Now fuck off so I can finish here, Wayne.”
Wayne closed the shower curtain and left, taking all the bath towels and her robe with him. Every time Wayne burst in on her, she was inevitably showering if in the bathroom or changing in her bedroom. Secretly, she liked this routine very much and looked forward to it. For now, it was the only true excitement in her life, which she would later reflect on alone in her bed.
Tassie considered resuming her former project, and even though she was more in the mood now than before, the hot water was running out for real. She turned off the shower and stepped from the tub to see no bath towels hanging and that her robe had skedaddled. Cursing Wayne once more, she left the bathroom naked and padded down the hall to the linen closet leaving a trail of damp footprints.
As she arrived there, she heard her mother’s voice rising up the stairs.
“Tassie! Oh, there you are.” She didn’t remark on Tassie’s nudity. “I have an errand for you and Wayne.”
“So I’ve heard,” said Tassie. The linen closet held only hand towels, sheets, and pillow cases. “Where are all the bath towels, mom?”
“They’re in the linen closet, honey,” she said, oblivious to the facts in plain view. Mrs. Collins often appeared flighty of mind but was good at heart, a first generation hippie full of Earth Mother convictions and a peculiar wholesomeness. She held a firm belief that all would end well, whatever it was that might be ending. Almost beguilingly, her mother was a very sexy woman on all counts and not the least bit dowdy, contrary to her other salient qualities. She was an advocate of “Sexual Healing” and the powers of the flesh to restore equilibrium to troubled minds and souls.
Tassie grabbed two hand towels and began rubbing herself down. Her sister Maureen appeared as if delivered from the mists of her recent shower. “Why are you naked, Tassie? We have a house full of people here, you know,” she said.
“Wayne took all the bath towels,” said Tassie.
Her mother resumed. “As I was saying, I need you and Wayne to run to the liquor store. He can’t drive, but he can carry. You should go soon. We have to be at the service at two.”
“How are you holding up, Mom?” asked Tassie. Her mother’s longtime lover Tom had committed suicide a few weeks before, and today was the memorial service. They had found him in his backyard slumped over the hedge he landed upon after firing a bullet into his head. An elderly neighbor, thinking he heard premature Independence Day fireworks, was preparing to admonish the perpetrators when he discovered Tom’s body.
“Oh, I have moments. But I’m fine. He was so melancholy the past few months. You know how happy and positive Tom’s always been. Anyway, he’s over it now...”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I know you really loved him. We all did,” said Maureen.
“It’s true, Mom,” chimed in Tassie, after a minor hesitation.
“Oh well,” said her mother. “What’s done is done. Tassie, I’m glad that you feel comfortable walking around naked but we have a house full of people.” With that she wandered back downstairs, leaving Maureen and Tassie alone.
“Do you really think she’s okay?” asked Maureen.
“You know Mom. Her druids and New Agey stuff will see her through it.”
“What do you think made Tom suicidal? What made him so sad that he would take his own life?” Maureen gave the impression it was a rhetorical question.
Tassie took a deep breath, remembered she was standing in the hall naked and started for her room. “I don’t know, Maureen. I know they did an autopsy because it was a suicide. Maybe they found something, like a tumor on his brain. Mom will tell us eventually. I’ve got to get dressed.”
But Tassie thought she knew why he committed suicide. All she had to do was look in the mirror.
Maureen
Maureen was a young woman who said what was on her mind and was seldom if ever found to be lacking in good judgment. She was of a quiet demeanor overall, though her mind was always on overdrive, analyzing and reading between the lines of any given situation. Her astute observations were much appreciated by her sister Tassie, who was the type to form hasty opinions.
Maureen viewed Tom’s passing stoically. She knew he had been suffering an existential crisis of one form or another, its origins unknown. Which form wasn’t important, as it was only the suffering that counted. When she explored his deteriorating situation with her mother, the latter simply said it was only important to love him now, and that later might not be an option. So, concluded Maureen, all she could do was love him, knowing there would be another time for knowing the reasons for his sufferings.
Maureen wasn’t close or not close to her mother’s lover. There were no special reasons for this. He was a nurturing presence for as long as she could remember, and she was not a source of conflict or pain to him or her family. She knew Tassie had become very attached to Tom, and more so than she would ever admit. Maureen, always a keen observer, noticed little things between them that spoke of a closer connection. She was amused rather than troubled by this.
Tassie was the better looking of the two, though not by much, and she did nothing to stress it, as she tended to hide her striking features. Maureen had a style that some viewed as “severe”, but only compared to the local standards usually admired in the Midwest, where plain and wholesome appearances reigned and popular fashion viewed as racy or frivolous.
Her razor sharp hairstyle framed an intelligent looking face which sat upon a similarly shaped body as her sister’s, aside from her slightly smaller but still very ample bosom. They both took after their well endowed mother. If the lighting was just so, as aside from their hairstyles, they could all three pass as sisters. The three of them exuded an air of sexuality regardless of how they dressed.
Seeing Tassie standing naked in the hallway reminded Maureen that they were both objects of desire to their common neighbor Wayne, who was not lacking in masculine appeal and simple charms. He seemed to spend most of his time at their house, and even had a designated bedroom for sleeping over when his dad traveled.
In private, Maureen and Wayne were having an affair of sorts, as yet unconsummated. They experimented vigorously with all other forms of sexual variety save for vaginal or anal pe
netration. They agreed it might be imprudent to go there, though they both privately hoped the other would press the case. Tassie was unaware of this situation. Maureen felt confident Tassie would approve, but not entirely confident, feeling there was some room for doubt. She also felt Tassie would be jealous. Wayne, like them, exuded an air of animal magnetism, and surely Tassie had noticed that growing up.
Regardless, Maureen and Wayne decided it was time to let Tassie in on their behind-the-door activities. It was her idea, and Wayne couldn’t find a reason to oppose it. In their younger years they were the Three Musketeers and did everything together, but that was some time ago. Maureen knew things Wayne did not, and felt Tassie was now in need of a distraction to take her mind away from his father’s suicide. Her “shocking news” would do the trick. She was having carnal relations with the son of their mom’s lover.