“I hated that I was “that guy.” I loved that I had a reason to get out of bed. The sun was just coming up. I was awake enough to realize I needed to take a leak and that my wife was already up and out of bed. I worked to focus on the digital clock and saw that it wasn’t even six yet. I rolled out of bed and took care of relieving myself. It took a moment to empty my bladder. I had awoken with an erection. It was a youthful steel-like erection. I’d had to sit on the crapper reading a Woman’s Day magazine. When finally I had taken care of my business I wandered towards the kitchen for a cup of coffee. My wife seemed small at the kitchen sink. Her short dark hair was pulled up behind her head. The tank top she wore revealed a bare neck. I wanted it.
I had never stopped wanting my wife. The lack of intimacy between us recently came from more than just a simple lack of attraction. As I placed my mouth on the flesh where her neck met her shoulder and wrapped my arms around her my erection returned. She was much smaller than my new lover. I had to bend down to caress her. I thought of how if I was approaching Stephanie in the early morning like this I would wrap my hands around her breasts. With Anne I was subtler. My mind calculated the odds of my affection being spurned at 9 chances out of ten. Lately I would have accepted those odds, poured a cup of coffee and moved on but this morning I didn’t want to. I pulled her body towards me. She was yet to react when I pressed my hips towards her and my cock, obvious in my boxers against her ass. I bared my teeth and the kiss I had placed on her neck became more of a bite and she surprised me with a slight moan.
I moved my hands to her breasts. They are large full breasts. Anne has wonderful large breasts and as I gripped them my cock throbbed with the idea of burying my face between them.
“Aren’t you friendly this morning.” She purred.
“Is that a problem?” I whispered before taking her earlobe between my teeth and tongue.
“Do you think we have time?” she asked. I had no idea what she might have had on her schedule at six on a Sunday morning. Rather than answer I moved my hands down her belly, beneath her tank top, and back up beneath her shirt over her bare skin to her breasts. I felt their heft. I couldn’t help but grin. “Come.” She said. She wanted to move to the bedroom.
“No,” I said. I gripped her nipples. With Anne I had to be gentle and it was frustrating I couldn’t pinch her firmly as I did with my new lover but I made concessions. I would make concessions with Stephanie eventually as well. Every woman had something they didn’t like, some move that would turn the fickle switch of sexual arousal from hot to cold instantly. I don’t know why but as I pulled my wife’s shirt off of her and the early morning sunlight beamed in the window and danced across her body I found myself wondering what act, thought, or suggestion would be Stephanie’s kill switch. Anne still hadn’t turned around and as I continues to kiss her and move my body against her bare back I began to tug the short pair of shorts off her hips and down her short, strong, stocky little legs.
Anne and I swayed naked in the kitchen together and thoughts of the tall blonde woman faded from my mind. I took my wife firmly, my hands on her upper arms and moved her to the island in the middle of the kitchen.
“Scott, seriously. Lets go to the bedroom.” She said. As I raised her onto the countertop she protested my desire to kiss her by turning her head when I tried to press my lips to hers. She muttered something about morning breath and a twinge of anger reared its ugly head in the back of my mind. This was the type of moment that normally would leave me feeling rejected and send me off, pouting. Instead I used my hands to move her legs apart. In his urgency my cock ignored the spiky hairs between her legs. She hadn’t groomed thoroughly in a while I presumed. It didn’t matter now. Nothing really mattered. She could tell. She leaned back, bracing herself sitting up her arms extended behind her. I forced myself into her.
She was not warm and welcoming. My cock only just barely entered her but seeing her posed as she was, her face stern, her breasts large, her legs spread and lifted on the kitchen counter I pressed myself more firmly and I found my way inside of her. She grunted slightly. I held her by the hips watching her. The look on her face was not joyful or affection but somehow was still appealing. Her lips were parted slightly and her eyes were cold and hard focused on mine. It may not have been a look of intimacy but there was something deeply sexual in how she stared back at me.
It took only a moment before her arousal lubricated our embrace so that I could move more rapidly inside of her and when I finally slipped deeply into her she rolled her head back and sighed.
Fuck she was hot, served up on the counter as if she was a main course ready to be devoured and I fucked her, gripping her ass to pull her to me, hard in the Kıbrıs Escort early morning light. Braced like she was she couldn’t move a great deal but she seldom did. As I thrust into her I had the full advantage of an athletic stance. I began to sweat. I came and the sound of our fucking became a squishy slappy sound. She struggled I think to stay silent. I didn’t stop. I wanted to force her to make some sort of sound. It became a game. I grinned at her. She didn’t grin back; the look she gave me was serious, accusing, and defiant. Her tits swayed and bounced and it drove me to fuck her even harder.
I pulled her thighs to my chest and she was forced to collapse back onto the dark black and gray granite. Her head lolled to the side. Despite herself I think she was enjoying it.
I began to think I might have another. Her legs, extended in front of me brushed at my cheeks and I bit her more firmly than I had intended.
“Ouch.” She muttered and she tried to pull her leg away. I thrust faster and deeper, sweat forming on my brow and my chest and I turned to her other calf and again bared my teeth. “Ow.” She said again, this time reaching up with her hands. She took my forearms and tried to free her legs, it wasn’t going to happen. I slowed my pace but with each thrust I slapped against her ass.
“Uff. Uff.” She grunted each time my balls slapped against her ass. I felt her pussy clenching down on me and imagined I was close. “Uff. Uff. Uuuuhhhnnnng.” She muttered. With a last gasp of energy I against fucked her as fast and as hard as I could until I felt myself pulsing and releasing inside of her.
When I moved away from her to finally make my morning coffee she stayed where she was. She was breathing deeply, her breasts heaving in a band of brilliant sunlight that blasted in the back window and across our kitchen at this time of day.
I stood drinking my coffee, my cock hanging wet and sated. Looking at her face she was smiling. Looking at her cunt, my come was dripping out of her and down her ass. Fuck, it was her fault for not moving. I stepped towards her and abruptly without warning stuffed two fingers into her cunt.
She cooed as I fingered her. She gripped her thighs just above her knees and held herself open for me. I toyed with her until she came, this time mewing and purring as I felt the spasms inside her freshly fucked pussy. It was dirty and the whole kitchen smelled of sex but after so long it was good to please my wife.
I only slipped out of the kitchen when the thought of fucking Stephanie on a kitchen counter entered my head. The guilt forced me to the shower. I was that guy. I was a cheater and an adulterer. I hated myself not just for betraying Anne but because somewhere, deep down, in that ugly part of myself that we all have and most try to deny, I was proud. I was pleased with myself. Fuck I hated being that guy.
I really couldn’t say what had inspired me to shower and I didn’t really want to give it that much thought. My mind was already rushing through a complex set of emotions and allowing myself to contemplate just how bothered I was by having fucked my wife was too much for so early in the morning.
I had cheated on Stephanie.
The thought spun in my head like an out of control Ferris wheel and it made me dizzy. When I emerged from the shower and was standing at the sink brushing my teeth she began to talk to me from the bedroom. The buzzing of my electric toothbrush allowed to me to pretend I couldn’t hear and saved me from having to respond.
“Why did you need to take a shower? Do I smell that bad or something? What are your plans for the day? Are you going to the hardware store to get that thing you needed? What was it? Do you want me to go with you?” I let them all go unanswered.
When I finally emerged from the bathroom and moved to my dresser to get a pair of boxers and the shorts I wore to work in the lawn she was sitting on the edge of the bed. She had her coffee in one hand and had pulled back on her shorts. Her tits however hung uncovered tormenting me and as if I needed more trouble this morning my cock, still half hard from this mornings exercise swayed and bobbed his way back to life until he stood straight out from my hips a gentle stroke away from fully erect.
“It’s been a while.” She admitted.
“Not that long, I don’t think.” I consoled her. I knew it had been more than a month. Five weeks and two days to be precise but I didn’t want to admit to counting.
“Mmm. Come here.” She purred.
I didn’t want to go to her and yet I couldn’t resist. It was only two steps really and I was standing beside the bed. She reached out and took my cock gently in her hand. “Someone is awfully worked up today.” She cooed in that way she had years ago when I had fallen in love with her and then, leaning forward enough that her tits rested on her knees she took me in her mouth.
It is one of the great ironies of my life that Anne does not like to give Kıbrıs Escort Bayan head. It is ironic because it is really my favorite sexual act. It is what I imagine when I jack off. It is only more ironic because she is exceptional at it. Her mouth is wide and welcoming and unlike the few other women I had known before her who attempted it, the soothing dance of her tongue on my dick was delicious and wonderful and left me unable to move. She reminded me of all of this when, fresh from the shower standing in our bedroom she felated me until my knees were weak and I nearly collapsed to the floor. I groaned loudly when I came. There was little if anything for her to swallow but she made a show of it licking her lips.
“Come on, lets go to the store. I need some things. I can get them at the Depot and you can get that thing you needed to get.” She positively bounced around the room as she got dressed. She was killing me.
Where was this a week ago? Had she been like this a week ago none of any of this would be going on.
Fuck, that was it, wasn’t it? Women know. That is a theme; you always see it in the movies anyway. Women always know. She knew I had a lover and she was now merely enforcing her sense of possession.
That was insane. I was going to go crazy. I know plenty of men who have had affairs. Sometimes it seemed as if it was universal. How did they do it.
Shit. I hadn’t checked my phone yet this morning. I had intended to after getting coffee but then had been distracted. Shit. What if there was a message sitting there from my lover just waiting for my wife to pick it up and read it. She might too. I think she did it intentionally. She always had some simple silly reason to check my phone but it was probably intentional. Women do that don’t they? I was only half dressed, shirtless with my fly open, but I stopped everything else to snatch my phone from my nightstand and look. There were no new messages. I looked at the history. I had been paranoid and diligent in deleting her messages and there was nothing from her on my phone to provide any sort of evidence but I couldn’t let anything come in either.
I had to be careful. I would turn it off. I had to be more careful than that though. She could always flip it back on. I put it in airplane mode. I put it on do not disturb. I held the power button until the phone went black and then for good measure I slipped it away onto the bookshelf in my den.
As I finished dressing I hoped desperately no one would need me today. No one ever really needed me that badly anyway, still it was almost as nerve wrenching to be disconnected as it was to worry about a message coming in from my lover only to be read by my wife.
Fuck.
Dressed and ready to leave Anne cornered me in the laundry room. She kissed me. It had been longer since we had kissed that way than it had been since we had fucked and when she was done and was looking up at me with a smile on my face I again was terrified by the realization and almost asked her.
How the hell did she know?
My heart skipped a beat and my face flushed when I saw a tall woman in the flower section. She had on tight black yoga pants and I felt as if I knew the ass that was teasing me from between the vincas. The woman had long wavy blonde hair and I suddenly found myself playing out the confrontation in my mind. When she turned revealing a long and slightly crooked nose I couldn’t prevent a groan of relief from escaping my mouth. Anne asked what was wrong and I complained about the long lines at the register.
Anne bought detergent and a new mop and I meandered aimlessly down the aisles, the chores I had to do and the list of things I needed escaped me. I know I spent most of my time in the store my mind elsewhere and only when she would see things she thought I might need and pointed them out to me did I slip back into my right mind for a moment.
I did the best I could. I needed to get home. I needed physical exertion and then intoxication to get me through the rest of my day. It wasn’t even nine o clock yet. I ached for time to move more quickly. I need it to be Monday morning when I could reach out to her again. I needed to talk to her. I needed to know what the hell was going on. I needed to know how to plan out the rest of my life. I wanted to know if I loved her and if we were going to live happily ever after or if our affair had already played itself out a brief and tawdry escapade I could begin to let pass into history, another regret to mull over on nights when I couldn’t sleep.
Robin, a friend of mine who despite the effeminate name was a manly man of men who despite a statuesque wife had fucked his way through a series of young women seemed to do this without thinking. I wondered what he thought about when he walked through the home improvement store. I wondered if he thought of it at all. I wondered if he even went to home improvement stores. I took the can of paint from the woman. What was I buying Escort Kıbrıs paint for. I looked at the short woman beside me trying to remember who she was. She simply kept talking about how she had always wanted the bathroom in a light yellow. She thought it would brighten things up. Reality came back to me and I struggled to concentrate on my list and bought brushes and rollers and masking tape that I probably had but might not so it was better just to buy them.
I managed to check out, pay for the odd assortment of items and get myself into the car. It was only once we were headed home that she felt it necessary to comment on my odd mood. “What has you so distracted this morning?” she asked as I sat at a stop sign waiting as if I needed it to turn green.
“I think I am just thinking about the kitchen counter… and what happened after my shower.” I said. I was proud of my answer.
“Really?” She was smiling and she took my hand. “You know, I sorta wondered. You haven’t really, well, we haven’t really, you know, even tried much lately.”
“I know.”
“it was that good?” she asked sheepishly.
“It was pretty freaking awesome.” I told her. I swerved to avoid a curb. Fuck, I needed to wake the hell up.
“Maybe we can go for round two later.” She teased, squeezing my fingers.
Working in the yard was good for my soul. It always had given me a sense of calm. There is no chore that so quickly and thoroughly rewards your efforts as mowing the lawn. Sweating in the sun I found my mind cleared.
I’m not saying my renewed compulsion to fuck had subsided in any way. Anne, entirely out of character, had joined me in the back yard when we returned from the store. She had set herself up on a lounge chair in a royal blue bikini I had bought her years ago but that she considered too scandalous to ever wear. I had actually still been in the bedroom looking for a hat to wear when she had stood at her dresser, naked, and pulled the tags off of it.
I didn’t work long, just enough to clear my mind and then had jumped into the pool. It as cool and brisk in early may but it felt refreshing and once in the water I pulled the torn and tattered shorts I had worn to do shores off my hips and fought my legs out of them. I tossed them, soaking wet onto the deck. Anne had been watching me and now disappeared for a moment only to return with two cans of beer. She squealed when she stepped into the water but forced her way in until she could float her way out to where I stood in the shallow water to hand me a beer.
We paddled around the pool the way we had when we were just married. I fondled her and she let me. She leaned back against me as I gripped a beer in one hand and her breast in the other.
I fetched the second round, she got out to fetch the third. She wasn’t a big drinker. The fact that we split a fourth was excessive and now she was the one that was friendly. She pulled me free of my boxers.
“What about Matt?” I asked her.
“He’s gone.” She gripped my cock. “Do you want a shot?” she asked and I just looked at her dumbfounded.
I had to use plastic cups. We didn’t even have shot glasses. I poured two small doses of tequila. She swallowed hers before I could even get to mine. I followed suit and we washed them down with long swallows of beer.
“One more.” She said. She wasn’t slurring her words but she was smiling in a broad happy way that told me she was happy.
‘What is up with you today?” I asked her incredulously.
“I don’t know. God, maybe I just needed to get laid.” I smiled back at her to suppress my chagrin. I hated that phrase. I wasn’t thinking too clearly myself and my emotions were brewing a little too close to the surface. I felt a need to be careful. For her sex was getting laid, for me it was making love. We had only had this argument once, toward the end of our engagement a week before the wedding. I had managed to hold my tongue this long I could do it a little longer. “Are you going to make us another shot.”
“I don’t think I need it.”
She again floated her way to me. She moved awkwardly in the water. Her hair was still dry and I knew she wanted it to stay that way.
“Do you remember last summer, how close we got to, you know?”
I didn’t. I was drunk and she could see the look on my face.
“You know!” she chided me. “I want to do it today.” It clicked.
“Really?” I asked her. I gripped her ass knowing what we were talking about now and pulled her to me. She wrapped her legs around me.
“Do you want to?”
I poured two more cups of tequila and struggled not to vomit mine back up. When she got out of the pool she made a show of stipping off her bikini bottoms and tossing them aside onto one of the patio chairs. I followed her, concerned as to what was inspiring this but excited to get inside.
It wasn’t easy. She grunted and protested. I prepared her ass with a great heaping gob of sticky slimy lube. I pressed it into her and rubbed it only myself. It was hard enough just to get my finger into her.
She assumed an aggressive position with her ass in the air. She gripped a pillow and buried her face in it. The last words I could make out before they became just indistinguishable moans was “Be gentle… but don’t stop.”