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I touch myself with my free hand, and smell my fingers.
Yep. He came in me.
A mix of basking in the dazzle of my fantasy, the caustic reality of being raped, the fear of being impregnated with another man’s baby, the question of what it means being called out about it so… dramatically.
I touch myself again, and have to admit I’m still wet. But I have to clean this up. Andrew can’t know, because he can’t know I enjoyed it. I can’t know either.
Reaching over, I free my other hand, and run to the shower. Not even waiting for the water to heat up, I snatch the handset off the handle and douche. I’m reminded of how good his tongue felt making me cum before I knew, as I reach inside to try and swab my fingers to clean Jeremy’s cum out of me.
That same feeling of horrible pleasure sweeps over me. Suddenly I’m masturbating. Suddenly I’m panicked. Andrew will be home any second.
As I towel off, I look at our bedroom with new eyes. “What kind of slut whore am I?” I wonder, thinking back to past stupid drunk hook ups in high school and college. “Was Jeremy right? Why did I want to pretend Andrew was anonymous?” Indignant at Jeremy’s boldness, at Andrew’s carelessness with his phone, at the cumstain on the sheets, at the sound of the garage door? The garage door!
OHMIGOD ANDREW’S HOME!
The garage door opened! What do I do? I have to pretend this never happened. I have to be ready for him!
No time for clean sheets, no time for new panties; I kick the wet ones under the bed, hop back on it, and put my hand back in the silk rope. Glancing at my sleep mask, I cynically smirk to myself, “Yeah no. Not doing that one travesti istanbul again.” Under the bed it goes with the panties. Other hand in, yank it tight.
I don’t feel the wet stain I know is there, so I search with my foot to find it. There it is. I scoot down to cover it with my butt, which hurts my arms a little. Gotta bring that pillow down too. Knees propped up.
OK ready.
I’m totally not turned on anymore. Not at all.
Andrew bursts in the bedroom door.
“Hi honey,” I manage feebly.
He stops and stares. Oh no, he can tell. I missed something. My cheeks are burning.
Not saying a word, he drops his briefcase. I wonder in passing why he brought it upstairs, but focus in on how his dick is hard through his pants. Glancing up, I see he’s fixated on my pussy, so I part my knees.
“I missed you,” I whisper.
He doesn’t reply, but strips down to his boxer briefs, swollen for sure, and climbs on the bed. Sliding his hands up from my ankles, over my knees, and inside my thighs… I flash back to how turned on I would have been if it was my husband to begin with, admiring me this way.
The way he sizes me up, he can tell I’m nervous. “Don’t worry my lil helpless wife,” he smiles, taking on character. “I’m gonna take real good care of you… Whether you like it,” he winks, “or not.”
He must think I’m nervous because this is the first time we’ve done something like light bondage. If only he really knew… he’d be so angry.
His mouth is on my freshly washed pussy. He knows how much I love being kissed there. Even with my guilt, it does feel good. Tongue up, tongue down, swabbing my clit, istanbul travestileri suckling it, inserting his tongue in me, nipping at my labia. My body can’t help itself but enjoy. Mind flashes between Andrew and Jeremy. Am I ranking them?
“Nnngh,” I moan, partially pretending not to want it, and partially actually not wanting it. I can feel his eyes on me, questioning, lustful, careful, excited. What a sweetheart. My nipples harden against my will.
He’s really going to town on me, mouthing me from clit to slit, sucking and swallowing my pussy juices and kneading me with his lips. I can’t help but raise my butt and allow my ankles to rest on his shoulders. “Noo…” I whisper provocatively, “I don’t… what will… my husband say…”
This excites him even more, and he frantically claws out of his underwear. Looking up at me, he growls, “Oh you’re mine now!” and penetrates me a little more aggressively than usual.
“Ohh!” I gasp, a little surprised. Andrew’s bigger than normal too. Is Jeremy naturally bigger than him? Or was it the thrill that made him that way? It’s hard to focus as I’m caught between being turned on, and asking myself guilty questions. “Oh you’re fucking me!” I blurt out, “You’re fucking my pussy! Oh, God it feels good!”
He grabs my tits, and pulls on them. Damn he knows what I like… He’s looking flushed like he’s gonna cum. All of a sudden he pulls out, but then he’s back at my pussy again with his face, licking me and kissing me. IT FEELS SO GOOD – I feel so guilty. I pant, and words escape me, “Oh God Andrew… now you’re sucking my clit! Yes baby!” My hips move to meet him, and I feel myself istanbul travesti point toward cumming.
But he stops with his mouth, and moves up again to fuck me. I look up, and see my juices staining his beard. I want to hold him, but my arms are tied and it just looks like I’m struggling weakly. Each time he thrusts, my hips and tits bounce, as his movement sends shocks through my body. My mouth is hanging open, my brow furrowed, his face flushed. Grabbing my sides, he pounds me.
“I’m gonna cum!”
“Me too!”
“Don’t stop!”
“Ahhh yess!”
“Fuuuuck!!”
I wrap my legs around him tight. We cum together, and even as my eyes roll back in my head I see he’s both pleasured and panicked because I’m making him cum inside me. But he doesn’t stop, and his dick pulses and swells as yet another sperm spurts and coats my insides. He falls down over me on his elbows and opens his eyes.
I look up at him and bite my lip.
He looks down at me, his face contorted between pleasure and questions. I know that face.
I grasp his butt with my legs, squeezing around him for emphasis.
“Oh no!” I exclaim/lie suggestively. “You’ve taken advantage of me and now I might have a baby…” He pulses inside of me in a silent yes reply, and leans down to kiss me deeply. His hands caress my hair and shoulders as we French, and I want to hold him. But I can’t, so I squeeze my pussy muscles on him, and push my chest up. He gets the hint, and looks up to hook his finger in the strap, loosening it. I immediately free myself, and roll over on top of him.
We embrace. Finally.
Then I remember what Jeremy did. What I did.
A tear escapes.
“I love you,” he whispers. “And… I got your text message.”
“I love you too, honey,” I reply, wondering if I’m really a lying cheating whore. His cock slowly softens, and slips out of me. I feel our juices sliding out. The bed is wet.
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