I paid the bartender for the one drink I'd purchased myself, then nodded sadly at my disappointed suitor, thanking him for the drink all the same, and trying to let him down as gently as I possibly could.
If my circumstances were any different, then hell yes... You bet your beautiful ass I would...
Then I made my way back to the car, took a deep, painful breath, and hit the road for home all over again.
Chapter 2
“Hon'? That you?”
Jesus Christ, Rob... I'd sat in the driveway for nearly ten minutes after pulling in, dreading the idea of walking inside and having to hear this clearly disinterested greeting of his. He said it to me every damn night, and there was just something I found so irritating about it, as unreasonable as it may have been of me. There was just this sort of inherent lack of concern to it. Like he didn't really care, he wasn't actually excited that I was home- he just wanted to make sure I wasn't a fucking burglar, and past that it didn't really matter all that much who the hell I was. He used to greet me at the door and kiss me on the lips the moment I walked inside, and some days even have dinner made for me by the time I got in. Now I was lucky if there were still cold leftovers from the weekend in the fridge for me.
And God, I was getting to be so bitter... That stop at the bar had made things even worse for me than they'd already been, seeing what I could have gone home with and comparing it to what I was now stepping into the house to find waiting for me in his sweat pants, staring at the football game on his beloved big screen TV.
“Hey hon, yeah it's me,” I replied, staying as cool and collected as I possibly could, hiding my irritation as impeccably as ever, just like I always did. I leaned in to kiss him, and he didn't tear his eyes away from the big screen for a second. My lips pecked on his cheek, and his didn't make it to me at all, simply kissing the air as though he intended the kiss to travel through the air and make it to me somehow.
Obviously, I was distracting him from the game, and I most surely didn't want to be a bother to him...
I tried, feebly, piping up, “How was your day?”
“Good,” he said automatically, not giving it an ounce more of thought, and then added, clearly wanting to get me out of the room as quickly as possible so he could focus on the game, “Emily's upstairs in bed.”
What the hell? I thought.
I looked up at the clock, and was startled to see it was pushing on 9:30 already. My dazed stalling at the office and my stop off for the drink must have taken a hell of a lot longer than I'd thought they had, and now Emily was likely asleep. It was actually sort of amazing that Rob had even taken the initiative to get her in bed by nine...
I crept up the stairs and poked my head into the room, not wanting to wake her up, but thinking I should at least check up on things if she was still in a conscious state.
“Sweetie? Are you still awake?”
“Mommy!” my daughter exclaimed, her silhouetted arms outstretched in the darkness, and I flipped on the light, making my way over to her.
I took her in my arms, and felt myself warm up just a little bit, as perfect a reminder as any as to why I hadn't gone through with the thing I'd so desperately craved back there at the bar.
Then, however, I made the mistake of asking, “How was your day?”
And in response, she instantly launched into the very sort of enthusiastic tirade I thought I'd been lucky enough to dodge the bullet of avoiding, detailing every little thing that had happened to her at school that day, and causing an unpleasant resurgence of my headache all the while.
God, I was a shitty parent...
I pretended to listen, and smiled and nodded, but nothing she told me really seemed to stick as the words hit my ears.
I was dreading that parent teacher conference tomorrow... I'd never met her teacher, Mr. Fellows, but the name seemed incredibly familiar for some reason. I had this instinctive feeling that I wouldn't really like him for some reason, and the more and more she kept on talking about her day, the more and more I thought about how awful the meeting would probably be.
I don't think she was really finished yet, but I was too out of it to keep listening by this point, and when she came to a break in her account, I interrupted, “That's great sweetie. I'm glad you had a nice day. Go to sleep now. I love you.”
I kissed her on the forehead, and she peeped, “Goodnight Mommy,” not seeming to think a thing in the world of my cutting her off like that. No harm, no foul, I thought.
I switched off the light, and headed back down the stairs, stopping for a moment to watch my husband watching TV, seemingly not even aware of my presence as I passed him. I sighed, and continued my way into the kitchen, opening the fridge and seeing what we had in the line of alcoholic beverages.
First, my eyes landed on the beer in the front of the fridge, but as I was reaching for it I caught the bottle of wine behind this, and that seemed far more appealing to me.
I pulled out the bottle and made my way up the stairs with the thing, not even bothering to pour its contents into glasses, but simply opening up and tipping it back, drinking and drinking and drinking until I could at last feel the first effects of tipsiness beginning to take over.
At last, I began to see a few stars before my eyes, and though I didn't get totally wasted from the stuff, I was at least buzzed enough now that I could feel just a little bit at ease.
And God, did I suddenly feel as horny as the devil...
I slipped out of my clothes, laughing just a little bit as I struggled with the straps of my bra, and I slid into the shower, sighing loudly and drunkenly as the warm water came splashing down around my naked body, soothing me and making me tremble with pleasure, feeling for the first time all day that I was alright and in control of myself and my situation.
God, I wanted cock so bad right now... I knew if I tried to disturb my husband right now, he would be more annoyed that I was making him miss the game than he would be aroused at the prospect of sex, but I thought maybe it would be over soon enough that I could still get a little pounding in once his attention was a little less dedicated to the TV.
I would just have to find something to occupy myself with in the meantime...
I slowly brought my hand down, pushing my fingers between my legs, and began to play with the lips of my pussy. I pushed them around, stroking myself and giggling as I did so, and my own self love began to take on almost comical exaggeration. I started finger blasting myself so quick and so hard that it was almost ridiculous, and at the same time I pushed my tits together, squeezing tight on them, getting myself worked up as hell, but my fumbling grip doing very little in the line of genuinely pleasuring myself as I stroked and pushed and abused myself.
I guess after a while I sort of came, but it was heavily unsatisfied and the sensations were dulled by the alcohol in my system. I needed some real cock in me if I wanted to experience those kinds of sensory delights in genuine, and for a while I just stood there beneath the soothing water, letting my mind water- all the way back to the man at the bar.
God, that would have been great... I started fantasizing about what he would do to me all over again, his head between my legs, nibbling on my pussy, pushing his tongue inside me, making me scream and squeal and squirm all across the bed. And then, God, he would take me... So hard... So fucking hard... Slamming that stiff, long cock of his up into me, jackhammering my cunt with lethal force until I nearly fell off the bed, filling me up with himself...
Oh, Godddddd...
I needed a man inside me, as soon as was humanly possible...
The game had just ended, and the post-game analysis was unfolding when I stepped into the room. My husband didn't look up at me but for a fraction of an instant, and I stood there staring at him for a moment in my bathroom, waiting for his attention, but knowing that I wasn't going to get it like this.
Then, knowing full well what would catch his eye, I undid the loop of my plush white bathrobe, slowly untying it, and sliding the folds
apart, to reveal to him that I wore absolutely nothing underneath.
This, of course, got his attention...
He stared at me, and I could see he was getting hard, as his eyes rolled along the sliver of the nude, still moist flesh exposed between the sides of the robe, the deeply cut sliver of my cleavage and the insides of my breasts, my tantalizing stomach with the tender fleck of my navel in the middle, my clean shaven mons pubis, droplets of water still sliding down along its surface, and of course my burning pussy, which was so hot and for so ready for him that I knew he couldn't come close to being ready for just how badly I was about to rock his world.
Stunned, gaping, he reached up with the remote control and flipped off the TV in accordance with my wishes, and I continued to saunter my way over to him, smiling devilishly, the booze in my system still clearly directing my actions, turning me into the horny little slut I was as I brought my body up on top of him. He definitely had a boner, I could feel, as it poked me in the ass through his sweatpants, and I put my hand between my legs to stroke his lump as I straddled him, knowing all the while that I was only serving to further frustrate the hell out of the poor bastard.
His mouth was open, jaw quivering slightly, as though eager and willing as hell to start sucking on whatever I felt like sticking into his open lips. Accordingly, then, I pushed my tits up into him, sliding back the bathrobe just a little bit more, and whimpering girlishly as I forced him to start sucking on my tender, throbbing nipple. His lips closed in around me as he nursed on me like a newborn, teeth sinking into me and his tongue rolling around in laps. I sighed, and shivered, and pulled him closer, closer, closer, sensations running through my body, my pussy getting wetter and wetter by the second after having just dried myself off.
Jesus, this felt so good...
When both of my nipples grew hard to a degree that seemed satisfactory, I playfully pushed his head away from me, only to swoop back down and put my lips onto his promptly afterward. I slid my tongue into his mouth, and he grunted as the two of us began to kiss passionately. I'm sure he was only too aware of the alcohol on my breath as we made out, but given how sudden and unprovoked my burning need to ride his cock were, I didn't think he must have cared all that much.
Speaking of the alcohol, it was really making me do some kinky, weird things to my very lucky husband. As the two of us tongue kissed, I found myself suddenly reaching up to his face and pushing my fingers into his mouth, stretching his cheeks out, an action which somehow pleased me far more than I could explain. And then, as the kiss kept going on and on and on, I began to slowly gyrate down below, grinding my pelvis up against his leg so that my pussy rubbed up furiously against him, needing him inside me as soon as was humanly possible, my body ready to collapse with want if this anticipation throbbed inside me for very much longer.
At last, my dumb husband seemed to take the less than subtle hint I was laying down for him to ravish me, and my body was being lifted up into the air, practically supported atop his body by the hook of his boner. He slid his hands beneath the bathrobe and clutched two vicious handfuls of my ass for support, and with my legs wrapped tight around his body he began to carry me clumsily up the stairs, nearly toppling back over in his haste, but making it up without incident, and fumbling as he rattled our bedroom door shut behind us.
He peeled out of his tight football t-shirt, and my mouth and pussy both watered at the sight of him as he climbed up into bed, his broad, strapping chest, his throbbing muscles, glazed with sweat after I'd straddled him and sucked on his mouth for so long, and about to get a hell of a lot sweatier. My bathrobe, at this point, was flowing all over the place, sliding down along my glossy shoulders and bunched up behind me so that my breasts and ass were largely visible, and the robe itself seemed to be just hanging on by a thread.
I don't know if he had it in his head that he was going to be the one in charge of this, but if that was the case, any such illusions were dispelled in mighty short order, as I laid siege to his body almost the instant he touched down against the mattress. I climbed up onto him in my state of dishevelment, invading his tight, sexy body, and went straight for the waistband of his sweatpants, his boner now pushing so fiercely through it that I thought it might rip the damn fabric.
I began to peel him out, and his cock sprang urgently out into the open, as though it had been suffocating, dying to come out into the open, and I grinned hungrily as I studied the glossy flecks of pre-ejaculate decorating its engorged, purple tip.
I reached up, and seized a vicious handful of his long, hard immensity. He groaned, and I slowly pushed my wrist down, down, downward, dredging the skin of his shaft toward the base of his cock until it was stretched taut, and allowing the sensations to mount. I released him, then, and pulled back the opposite direction, letting go of the tension once more. I continued in this fashion for some time, pumping, squeezing him, working my wrist until it was tired, at which point I felt it an opportune time to take my first long awaited taste of cock for the day.
I opened my lips wide and braced myself, trying to force back my gag reflexes, and knowing that, with a man this size, doing so was no particularly easy task. But somehow, I managed it, and the next thing I knew my lips were melting around his throbbing tip, taking him in his considerable entirety. Inch by inch by agonizing inch of his long, hard cock came burrowing into the tight, wet crook of my throat, until at last I felt him touching down against the back of my neck, and I had to flare my nostrils hard to keep from choking on the tremendous thing.
I could tell he loved it, as he shuddered and as the cheeks of his ass clenched up, and I proceeded to up this sweet, sweet torment of mine exponentially. I brought my lips up, up, up around him, sliding all the way up to his tip, and building up an immense suction. Then I snapped my lips off of him, and sank back down, swallowing him whole once again.
I proceeded to suck in a steady, bobbing rhythm, my cheeks compressed around him and my tongue slipping and twisting around his shaft, looking up at him all the while with innocent, girlish eyes that I know devastated him, grunting and pumping with such sounds that they were like music to my ears.
“Yeah... Yeah baby... Oh God, I love you,” he chanted in a whisper, and he noted my hair was beginning to flap against my face, so he reached down, and held it safely out of the way. Something about this turned me on harder than ever, and I tightened up my suction on his dick as a means of rewarding them.
Finally, just when I thought I could no longer take any more of this despite my enjoyment of it, I could feel him getting ready to unload, and I decided this was a good time to stop, in order to save his load to be shot up between my legs instead.
I pulled my lips off of him, gasping for breath, streams of saliva dribbling humiliatingly down along my chin, nostrils flaring, and my need for penetration at its highest peak. Rob wasn't looking at me, but was staring instead at his near vertical erection, which was coated with saliva at this point, and more than ready to be fallen upon. I leaned in, and spat on his tip, coating his shaft evenly with the stuff using my hand, until at last he looked good and lubed up for me.
I tossed down the bath robe, and gave him a complete look of my wholly naked body for a moment before climbing up onto him, spreading my legs wide, and aiming my genitals just right so that they lined up properly with his own.
And slowly, I sank myself down, down, down onto him, moaning and groaning as he sliced open the tight, pink folds of my vagina with his stiff rod, my warm, wet nook inhaling the entirety of his thick, solid dick until at last I felt him touch down deep, deep, deep inside me.
And Jesus, I loved it...
My whole body felt braced, trembling with sensation, and honestly I felt like crying from the satisfaction of having finally gotten my man inside me after so long of a wait.
All of the dissatisfaction, the discontent from earlier on in the evening, seemed like it could have been imagined by me all along in the reality of this moment.
And then, I began
to slide my body around on top of him, and God, it felt so amazing... I was squirming around on him like a belly dancer, pushing my chest forward and grinding my pelvis around, smearing my pussy up against him and causing his cock to scrape through me, pushing me open, stretching me, and filling me with sensations all over.
Something primal, carnal, and horny as hell was unleashed inside me, and I felt the sexual animal locked up deep in my body begin to rage in reaction.
I started to bounce up on top of him, to pound him with my pussy and to drive him further, further, further up into my aching cunt. There was no stopping me now, and I was moaning out chants of ecstasy in accordance, losing complete control of myself, “Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh fuck, fuck, oh yeah, fuck me...”
“God... Honey, Emily is asleep just on the other side of the wall!” It seemed absurd that Rob should be the one to remember to be responsible during sex, but I suddenly realized he was right, and I tried to get a hold of myself. I put one hand over my mouth to suppress my moans, and with my other I clutched on tight to one of my jiggling boobs. The end results was a series of groaning, doglike sounds swelling up deep from my throat, probably not all that much quieter than before, but at the very least less easily identifiable as being profane to a nine year old.
I began to lose my balance soon, however, and forgetting my husband's reprimand in a heartbeat, I leaned forward to brace the wall against which our bed was stationed for support, causing the headboard to smack repeatedly up against its surface, but at this point we were both too far in to take back control of ourselves.
Let's Swing Page 51