My Husband, My Life

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xleglover

Chapter 1 – High School

I guess I should start by describing myself. My name’s Jen. I’m 38 now, and I’ve been married 14 years. My husband Michael’s 40. I’m blonde, and people tell me I’m pretty. I’m 5’2″ and petite. I have smallish breasts — 32A or B, depending on the bra type. My legs are my best feature. I guess I qualify as a leggy blonde. I majored in ballet and modern dance in college, which was pretty useless when I tried to get a job after graduation, but helped make my legs look even nicer.

I guess everything started when I was in high school. Back then my ass and legs were already shapely, although my chest had barely started developing. My girl friends and I were coming home from a movie. Suzanne’s dad was driving us home. I often caught him leering at me, which always creeped me out. I was sitting in front next to him. Suzanne and my other 2 girl friends were in the back. It was late and the drive was long, so we were all starting to fall asleep. Suddenly I felt Suzanne’s dad’s hand on my leg. I was wearing a short skirt and tights. He started at my knee and started moving up my thigh. I looked over at him and he pretended like nothing was happening.

I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t say anything because I didn’t want to wake up my girl friends. I certainly didn’t want Suzanne to know her dad was a pervert. So I stayed silent. He was caressing my thigh. Then he started moving underneath my skirt. I tried to stop him but he was stronger than me and pushed my hand away. His hand moved under my skirt, and then he pushed between my legs. I tried to hold them together but, again, there wasn’t much I could do without waking up my friends. So I decided to just endure it, because I knew we’d be home soon.

He started rubbing my pussy through my tights and panties. I felt helpless to stop him. It was humiliating. I felt even more humiliated when I started feeling pleasure from what he was doing to me.

He rubbed hard against my clit, and I bit my lip to stop from moaning. I looked over at him and he still pretended like nothing was happening, looking straight at the road. He kept rubbing my clit, and then my orgasm hit me. I couldn’t help moaning, but it was through clenched teeth and the radio was on, so my girlfriends didn’t wake up. By this time in my life I was masturbating, so I knew what an orgasm felt like. But this was the most intense and pleasurable orgasm I had ever had. It lasted forever. My whole body shook, and I felt like a flood of pleasure flowed from my toes to the tips of my fingers.

***********************

I wasn’t allowed to date until later. But I made up for lost time. I was pretty, popular and a cheerleader, so boys asked me out a lot. Kissing and heavy petting started early. But I was never so promiscuous to get a bad reputation. I mean, I wasn’t a slut, just a normal teenager.

Later that year I lost my virginity. I was still in high school, and he was a hunky college sophomore I’d been dating. How was it? Well … it was… just okay. It didn’t hurt as much as I feared, but I didn’t orgasm. Still, I was happy to no longer be a virgin.

In high school I almost always wore short skirts. My friends were all developing breasts. It took me longer to develop. My legs were always long and shapely, so to compete with other girls I wore short skirts. This was easy because I was a cheerleader, and even when I wasn’t wearing my cheerleading outfit I wore a short skirt. In the warmer months my tanned legs were bare, but when it was colder I wore tights or pantyhose.

In my school you had to get at least a C+ average in all your classes, or you couldn’t play sports. My worst class was math. During my senior year I failed the mid-term math exam, and I was about to be kicked off the cheerleading squad. I felt like my life was ruined. I begged the math teacher, Mr. Gomez, to let me re-take the exam. He agreed, but he said I first had to take extra lessons after school, or else I’d probably just fail it again.

By this time in my life I knew how to tease guys. I impishly decided if Mr. Gomez forced me to take these after school study sessions, I’d tease and torture him. On the day of the first study session, I wore a snug turtleneck, short skirt, tights and flats. I purposely fidgeted in my seat, crossing and re-crossing my legs and letting my skirt inch up my thighs. Mr. Gomez sat at his desk and quizzed me, all the while ogling my legs.

The next day I intentionally dressed like a school girl, knowing a lot of older men like Mr. Gomez liked that. I wore a short pleated skirt, starched tailored blouse, knee high socks and saddle shoes. My friends teased me all day about my “uncool” outfit (saddle shoes?), but it was worth it. The whole time I felt Mr. Gomez’s eyes on me. When I spoke he didn’t look at my face. Instead he looked at my mouth, like he was imagining what it would be like to kiss me, or feel my lips around his you-know-what.

It went on like this for a week. I have to admit, teasing him turned me on. It was thrilling to have this power over him. Every night I played with myself to an incredible orgasm.

The next week I re-took the test, but only got a C- (to this day I suck at math). I was devastated, and knew I’d be kicked out of cheerleading. I was near tears when I felt Mr. Gomez’s hand on my arm. His eyes were on my chest. “I know cheerleading is important to you,” he said. “There might be something you can do to raise your grade … if you can keep a secret.”

I felt his hand on my back, tracing along my bra strap. “I won’t do that,” I said warily. Teasing was one thing, but I wasn’t going to prostitute myself.

“No, no, not that,” he said hurriedly.

“Then — what do you want?”

He looked nervous. Looking back, I think he planned all of this from the start, but he knew how much trouble he’d be in if he got caught.

“Do you swear you’ll never tell anyone?” he said. He tried to sound domineering, but I sensed his uneasiness. “If you say anything, I’ll deny it all and get you expelled. Getting kicked out of cheerleading will be the least of your worries.”

I nodded. I didn’t know what to expect, but his nervousness made me feel more confident, despite his threats.

“Take off your shoes,” he demanded.

“What?” looking bewildered.

“Please,” he practically pleaded, abruptly losing his domineering demeanor.

I stepped out of my flats. He ogled my feet, and then his eyes moved up my legs. “Turn around and walk to the wall, and then walk back. Slowly.”

I did as he asked. It was weird, but harmless. The entire time his eyes hungrily ogled my legs and feet.

“So beautiful,” he said longingly. “Now pull up your skirt.”

He saw the alarm on my face and quickly added, “I won’t touch you! I just want to look!”

He hadn’t touched me – other than briefly rubbing my back – and I could always scream or run away. The door was closed, but not locked. So I felt safe. I lowered my hands and raised my skirt.

“Please, more, and slowly,” he begged, when I stopped just below my panties.

I couldn’t believe the change in Mr. Gomez. Just moments ago he had been the dominating teacher. Now he was practically groveling at my feet. I couldn’t believe how much power I had over him. It aroused me. “Do you promise to give me an A?” I asked, wanting to test my new found power. “Not just for this test, but for the rest of the year?”

“Yes!” he agreed immediately. “Now, please, just raise your skirt, I want to see –”

Mr. Gomez’s words choked off as I raised my skirt to my waist. My black tights weren’t quite opaque, so he could see through to my lacy bikini panties. “Are you a virgin?” he asked, the words almost catching in his dry throat.

“No,” I answered truthfully. I wasn’t very experienced – having only done it once – but didn’t say that.

He moaned, like my confession had given him physical pleasure. He fumbled at his zipper, and took out his penis. It was hard, and he started beating off, not taking his eyes off my legs, feet and panties. Seeing him like that, knowing I was the reason he was so excited, made me flush with arousal. So when he asked — “Can I touch you, just a little?” – I nodded my head.

He covered my mound with his hand. “You’re so wet,” he said, and I knew it was true. I moaned when he rubbed me, desperately wanting the pleasure and release of an orgasm. Suddenly our roles were reversed again, with him having the upper hand. He rubbed me harder and faster, and I clung to him for support. He probably felt my breath against his chest as I panted into his shirt.

He knew I needed release, and that gave him confidence. “I knew you weren’t a virgin,” he hissed into my ear. “You’ve been teasing me on purpose, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” I moaned. At that moment I would’ve said anything to keep him rubbing me, although here my admission was the truth.

He grunted, satisfied. “I knew it! You’re a dirty teasing slut, a cock teaser, admit it!”

Surprisingly, I found his taunting a turn-on. Instinctively I began playing along. “You’re right, I like to tease, it turns me on!”

He stopped playing with himself, and with that free hand, he groped my small breasts. “A slut, that’s what you are, and you fuck them after you tease them, don’t you slut, don’t you?” he sneered, rubbing my nipples through my blouse and bra.

Mr. Gomez’s rough handling of my pussy and breasts was too much, and my body shuddered with an incredibly intense orgasm. I collapsed into his chest, and he immediately began humping me. Wearing panties and tights, there wasn’t a chance he could penetrate me, which is good because I’m not sure I’d have the will to stop him. But he didn’t seem to care. In fact, he seemed to savor the feel of my wool tights against his penis. Within moments he grunted, and then I felt a warm wetness spreading over my tights.

Chapter 2 – College Part 1

I went to a large northeast college. During my first semester I dated a few guys, and then started going steady with a senior who was pre-law. Kyle was a real catch. He was tall and handsome, had a great future as a lawyer, and his parents were well-to-do (they lived in a hugely expensive mansion in Greenwich).

Despite his incredible good looks, sex with Kyle was just so-so. It’s not that we didn’t have sex. Kyle wanted it all the time. He loved my long legs, and my breasts had finally developed. He loved getting blowjobs, and I loved giving them because he was really big so it was exciting to play with him. But in the six months we dated, he never once made me cum. He was handsome and had a nice body, but he didn’t excite me. I became really good at faking orgasms. I’d arch my back, curl my toes, dig my nails into Kyle’s back and moan.

Sexually I was frustrated. I wanted REAL toe curling orgasms. So far in my life, the only men who’d made me cum were Suzanne’s dad and Mr. Gomez. I started worrying that I could only get off with perverted old men.

Then Kyle took me to a concert. Michael, the guy I eventually married, was going with us. Kyle and Michael were best friends from Kyle’s hometown. He was nice, but not nearly as good looking as Kyle (and, as I later learned, not nearly as well-endowed). He was really smart but shy (kinda geeky), not confident and charismatic like Kyle.

That evening before the concert, Kyle and I were on the sofa in their frat house. Michael sat next to us. Kyle and Michael watched a football game as we waited for the concert to start. I wore a blouse and short skirt, and I was curled into Kyle’s arm with my legs under me.

Michael couldn’t keep his eyes off my legs, but he wasn’t obvious about it, so I pretended not to notice. Bored with the game, and feeling mischievous, I playfully tickled Kyle. Kyle tickled me back, and soon we were rolling on the sofa. As we did, I let my mini-skirt ride up, exposing more of my legs to Michael. While Kyle was tickling me, I extended one of my legs until my toes pressed into Michael’s leg. Then my foot “accidentally” traveled up Michael’s thigh and rubbed against his crotch. Although it was a momentary touch, I could tell he was hard. I quickly pulled my leg back as Kyle rolled me over, satisfied he had won our tickling match. I pulled my skirt down, giving Michael an innocently “oops” look. I had gotten good at this, teasing guys without letting them know I was teasing. I was a little aroused, too.

The concert was fun, and we were all a little drunk when we got back to the frat house. Jake, another frat brother, pushed a big cup of beer into my hand as soon as we walked in. Kyle and Michael went to the next room to see who had won the football game. That left me standing with Jake, who soon dragged me onto the dance floor.

Another football game must have started, because I didn’t see Kyle the rest of the night. The frat house was really crowded, and the party was a haze of beer, loud music and more beer. Jake was taller and more broad shouldered than Kyle, and nearly as handsome. As we danced he maneuvered me down a dark hallway. We were both drunk, so when he started kissing me I didn’t immediately stop him. Emboldened, Jake dragged me into a walk-in closet. With his tongue down my throat, he started fondling me, one hand fondling my breasts and the other working under my skirt.

I should have stopped it, but I was sexually frustrated with Kyle, and Jake felt so good. Being felt up by my boyfriend’s fraternity brother, with my boyfriend just down the hall, was so deliciously naughty. Jake pulled up my skirt and pushed his hand down my pantyhose, making me groan. Since I didn’t wear panties under pantyhose, his fingers expertly teased my pussy which I kept bare except for a thin landing strip above my clit.

Impatient, Jake tore open my blouse, the buttons flying everywhere. I yelped as he ripped off my bra. “Not so rough!” I complained.

“Sorry,” he said, his eyes hungrily ogling my bare breasts. His hands fondled by breasts and rubbed my nipples. I reached down and felt his hard-on. Crazed with lust, Jake lifted me onto a table, pushing my skirt up around my waist in the process. He pulled off my pantyhose so fast I barely had time to wiggle out of my flats.

He pulled me to the edge of the table and pushed inside. I grimaced as he entered me, his cock thicker than Kyle’s. He started slow but was soon pounding me. “God, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this!” he gushed. Within moments his body tensed, and I felt powerful jets of jism splashing inside me. He collapsed on top of me, panting and shuddering from post orgasmic spasms.

The next morning I woke up with a terrible hangover. Worse than the headache were the feelings of shame. God, I couldn’t believe how slutty I’d acted. I hadn’t even made Jake wear a condom, which I always insisted with Kyle. I checked my messages. Kyle had called twice. Jake had called too. I listened horrified as Jake confessed he loved me, and he wanted me to break up with Kyle and go out with him. God, didn’t he know a one night stand when he saw one? It wasn’t even a good one, at least not for me. Jake had cum so fast, although it probably wouldn’t have mattered. While the naughtiness had made it initially exciting, I hadn’t been close to an orgasm. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I get off with these hot guys?

Later that week I broke up with Kyle, and made it clear to Jake I didn’t want to go out with him. There wasn’t a spark with either of them (romantic or sexual), so I thought it better for everyone if we just ended it.

The funny thing is, I became really good friends with Michael. We kept running into each other and discovered we had a lot in common. After a month we started casually dating. Sex started soon after. Michael had a huge crush on me, and while I wasn’t sure of my feelings for him, he was comfortable and fun to be with.

Michael didn’t have the ripped body of guys like Kyle and Jake (and he had a small you-know-what), but he was a considerate lover, and he knew how to eat pussy like nobody’s business! He never gave me the toe-curling orgasms I’d had with Suzanne’s dad and Mr. Gomez, but at least he made me cum (unlike Kyle and Jake).

Most Fridays we went to the student union happy hour. We avoided going to the frat house because I didn’t want to see Kyle or Jake. On this particular Friday, Michael was getting us beers when Jake showed up and started hitting on me. His hands were all over me, and he tried to kiss me.

Later that night Michael and I were in bed, making love. “I don’t understand why you got so upset,” he said. “Jake’s harmless.”

“Harmless? His hands were all over me!”

“You can’t blame guys for hitting on you. You’re such a tease.”

That surprised me. I grabbed Michael’s arms, stopping his movement. “What did you just say?”

“Come on, don’t play coy. You’re always teasing guys with your hot body. There’re a lot of guys who’d like to get into your pants. You should hear what the guys say at the frat.”

“What do they say?” I asked intrigued.

Michael began fucking me again, moving slow as he whispered hot breath into my ear. “Gang bangs. Cocks in your pussy, ass and mouth. Cumming all over your pretty face.”

“Oh my god,” I said, shuddering at the images. “Don’t you get mad?”

Michael hesitated. “Not really,” he said, then added hesitantly, “To be honest, it excites me when they talk about you that way.”

“Really?” I’d heard about guys who fantasized about their girlfriends (or even wives) having sex with other men. I never imagined shy and straight-laced Michael would have such kinky fantasies.

“Can I ask you something? Did something happen between you and Jake back when you were going out with Kyle?”

“Um … why do you ask?”

“Well, Jake’s been saying he nailed you at a party, back when you and Kyle were going out.”

“He says he nailed me, huh?” I repeated coldly. I again stopped Michael’s movement inside me, not liking where this conversation was going. “Okay, Michael, if you want to know I’ll tell you,” I said in an annoyed voice. “Yes, I let Jake fuck me. I cheated on Kyle. Is that what you wanted to know? Are you hap – ”

“Fuck, I’m cumming!” Michael grunted, lurching violently inside me.

Later, as we lay side by side in the dark, Michael asked the question I was expecting. “Have you cheated on me?”

I turned over on my side to face him. “Michael, we haven’t agreed to be exclusive,” I said gently.

“So you HAVE cheated on me.”

I sighed, not wanting to get into this. I liked Michael, but we were friends mostly, fuck buddies on occasion. I didn’t want him to get possessive. Honestly, I didn’t think he had the right. But he was my friend, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

Reading my feelings, he squeezed my hand reassuringly. “I’m not mad, just curious,” he said excitedly. “Who have you been with?”

I hesitated, then saw the tent formed in the sheet around Michael’s crotch. “Brad, from my modern dance seminar,” I answered warily, only half believing Michael was more interested than jealous.

“From your dance class?” he said with a smile in his voice. “I thought all those guys were gay.”

“No they’re not, you jerk!” I said, playfully stabbing him in the side.

“Tell me what happened.”

I looked at him quizzically. “This really turns you on?”

“Yes, it does!” he said, pulling on another condom and entering me. “Tell me first about Jake. What was it like cheating on Kyle?”

“It excited me,” I admitted, the memories of three months ago still fresh in my mind. At the time my enjoyment had been dulled by feelings of shame. But Michael’s obvious delight and unconditional acceptance in my naughtiness washed away the shame and allowed me to remember just the excitement. “Jake fucked me in the storeroom next to the kitchen.”

“He did?” Michael said excitedly. “We were in the kitchen most of the time, playing quarters. You were fucking Jake just on the other side of the wall, where me and Kyle were sitting.”

“Oh god, really?” I panted, more excited than I’d been in a long time. “Jake had me on the table,” I said, re-living the moment. “My blouse was open. He had ripped off my bra, and pulled off my pantyhose. My skirt was around my waist, and Jake was between my legs. God, I can’t believe Kyle was just a few feet away as Jake fucked me. Jake had taken off his shirt, and I remember thinking how his chest was so much nicer than Kyle’s. How his penis was so much thicker than Kyle’s.”

“Ugh fuck!” Michael growled as he came. Then, unbelievably, my body tensed, and incredible orgasmic pleasure shot from my clit and traveled like bolts of lightning to every part of my body. My orgasm was so intense I think I momentarily passed out, and for long moments as I lay under Michael’s heaving body I felt tremors of orgasmic pleasure shudder through my body.

I couldn’t believe what had just happened. For the first time in my life, I experienced an orgasm through intercourse. And what an incredible orgasm it was. From that moment, I started thinking of Michael as someone who might be more than just a casual, temporary relationship.

“Tell me about Brad,” Michael asked the next night as we lay in bed.

I inwardly shrugged. “It only happened once. He wasn’t that good. Honestly, it only happened because I was so mad at Monica.”

“Who’s she?”

“She’s a dance major too, a senior. Brad’s a senior too. They’ve been going together since forever. Monica’s a teaching assistant, and she told me I’d never be a professional dancer. In front of everyone! God, I was so mad!”

“How would see know? Is she good?”

“No, she’s a fat cow! But her dad’s a producer on Broadway, so she’s a shoe in to get a part after graduation.”

“So you fucked her boyfriend to get back at her?”

“Brad’s more than her boyfriend. They just got engaged.”

“Really? So you seduced him, and got him to cheat on his fiancée. Do you realize how hot that is?”

“I don’t know. It was kind of exciting, I guess. But I felt so terrible the entire time I didn’t enjoy any of it.”

Michael rolled on top. He pulled on a condom and entered me. “Why? Don’t you see how great this is? Whenever they’re making love, Brad’s thinking about you, not Monica. He’ll probably be fantasizing about you on their wedding day.”

“Sometimes I feel like a slut,” I admitted.

“What’s wrong with that?” Michael grunted as the pace of his fucking picked up. “You’re the sexiest, hottest woman I’ve ever met! I love it you’re such a bad girl! I wouldn’t change anything about you!”

Once again, Michael’s unconditional acceptance and unbridled enthusiasm of my naughtiness masked my feelings of shame and guilt, allowing me to feel just the excitement and wicked pleasure. “Oh god,” I moaned as I felt an orgasm building inside me. He’s going to do it again, make me cum from intercourse, I thought. Moments later, I had a glorious orgasm.

The next day, Brad pulled me aside after class. “Listen, Monica feels really bad for insulting you the other day. She wants to apologize.”

Remembering the night before, I smiled impishly. “So should I apologize to her for fucking her fiancée?”

Brad looked at the door nervously. “Not so loud!” he hissed. “I just wanted to tell you she’s going to apologize. She’s even thinking about asking you to be one of her bridesmaids.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really?” We were alone in the studio, but someone could walk in at any time. I smiled conspiratorially at him. “Just think how great that would be.” I reached over and cupped his crotch. “You could fuck me on your wedding day.”

Brad’s face turned mean, but there was lust in his eyes. “Damn you’re a nasty bitch!”

I got on my knees, shuddering from my wicked naughtiness. “You know I’m better than Monica.” I stroked his hard-on. “She’ll never do what I’ll do.”

“What are you going to do?” Brad gasped, his voice catching in his throat.

“First I’m going to suck you,” I said in a husky voice. “Then I’m going to let you fuck me in the ass.” As I looked into Brad’s face and watched him flush with surprise and excitement, I wasn’t thinking of the handsome athletic man before me, but of my boyfriend Michael, and what a wonderful story I’d have to tell him tonight.

Chapter 3 — College Part 2

Even at noon the empty bar was dark and smelt of alcohol. The chairs and couches surrounding the stage were worn and stained. I tightly clutched Michael’s hand, both scared and excited. I couldn’t believe I let him talk me into this.

A black bouncer was sitting alone at the bar, reading a newspaper. He looked up. “Are you Jen?”

Michael answered. He looked just as scared as me, despite all his earlier bravado. “Yes,” he said nervously. “We have an appointment,” he added needlessly.

The bouncer smirked and motioned to the door at the back of the bar. “In there.”

“I’m Manny,” the man behind the desk said as we entered the office. “I’m the manager here. So, you want to be an exotic dancer?” I nodded, and Manny looked at Michael. “Who are you? Her boyfriend?”

Michael nodded. Manny pointed to the door. “You can wait in the bar while I conduct the interview. Or you can stay.”

“I’ll stay,” Michael immediately replied, excitement clear on his face.

Manny smiled knowingly, motioning to a sofa. “Be my guest.”

Manny got up and walked around the desk, reclining on the edge of the desk. He had a beer belly, a pockmarked face, and greasy black hair. He motioned at me impatiently. “Take it off, this is a strip club, I’ve got to see what you’ve got.”

Feeling nervous, I glanced at Michael, who nodded encouragingly. Looking back at Manny, I took off my coat. I reached behind, and unzipped my dress. Then I pulled the straps off my shoulders and let the dress fall to my feet.

I stood in just my bra, panties and high heels. Manny leered at me, his eyes running up and down my body, making me feel more uncomfortable than I already was. He licked his lips, and I felt even more like a piece of meat on display, although I admit I was getting moist between my legs. He motioned with his hand, wanting me to take off more.

I didn’t bother looking at Michael. I knew he was enjoying every moment of this. I reached back and unsnapped my bra, and with a slight movement the straps fell off my shoulders. I was about to toss the bra to the floor when Manny held out his hand. Reluctantly I handed him my bra. Then he motioned with his hand again. After a moment’s hesitation, I reached down and slid my panties down my legs. He held out his hand again, and I handed him my thong panties.

He kneaded the soft lacy material of my lingerie as he eyed my body. “Very nice,” he said admiringly. “You’ll do very well here.” He caressed my panties, feeling the moisture on the lacy material. I blushed when he grinned.

“You’ve got incredible legs. Are you a dancer?”

I nodded. “I’m majoring in dance.”

“Is that right? Well, college girl, you’ll make a lot of money working here. But you’re gonna be felt up when you give lap dances. Sure, they’re not supposed to. But if a dude’s paying a hundred bucks, it’s tough to stop him from doing this.” He reached up and cupped my breast, rubbing my nipple between his thumb and finger. “Or this,” he said running a finger between my bare pussy lips. “Yeah,” I said, the one word coming out like a moan.

“Good,” he said smiling lecherous at me. “You’re pretty, and you’ve got a great body. You’re gonna be in high demand. I’ve also got some special clients — business associates — who’ll want more than lap dances. You’ll make a lot of money, and it won’t be that often. But you can’t say no, not if you want to work here. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I nodded, clenching my teeth as Manny’s expert manipulation of my breasts and clit brought be close to an orgasm.

Manny’s smile broadened. His teeth were yellow and heavily stained from too much coffee and smoking. I cringed at the thought of kissing him, and suddenly my body convulsed in an orgasm.

“You’re going to love it here, I can tell,” Manny said laughing. I panted, trying to catch my breath. “But if you want this job, there’s one more thing you’re gonna have to do. Understand what I’m saying?”

I looked over at Michael. He had taken out his penis and was stroking himself. I looked back at Manny and nodded.

“Good. Go lie there on the sofa, next to your boyfriend. And spread your legs.”

An hour later, Michael and I were in his car, driving home. I leaned back against the headrest, staring blankly at the road in front of us. “My god, I can’t believe I just did that,” I said after a long silence.

Michael squeezed my hand. “You liked it though, I could tell. He made you cum, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” I replied honestly. With a little help from my hand, although I didn’t say that. Michael was still the only man to ever get me off solely from intercourse, but I hadn’t told him that, unsure of how that might change our relationship. Right now I had him wrapped around my finger, and I liked it that way. “Did you like it?” I asked, wanting to change the subject.

“God yes!” he gushed. “It was incredible! You were incredible! You ARE incredible!”

I smiled. His unwavering support made me feel so good. Then my brow furrowed, thinking back to the moment when, with his cock deep inside me, Manny looked over and started chuckling at the sight of Michael stroking his small penis. “No wonder you want to get into the business, college girl, if that’s all your boyfriend has to give you!” he had said contemptuously.

Feeling lustful and deliciously wicked with my legs spread wide for fat, ugly Manny, I had looked into Michael’s eyes. “Yeah, he’s okay most of the time, but sometimes I need a big cock!”

“So … what I said didn’t bother you?” I asked not able to look into Michael’s eyes.

“No, it didn’t bother me, I love it you’re such a bad girl,” Michael said without reservation. He laughed good-naturedly. “Admit it, you’re a size queen.”

I thought of how big cocks always excited me, how fascinating it was to hold a long cock, to feel it pulse in my hand, to trace my fingertips along the thick veins running along the thick shaft. But my excitement had always been tempered, because to good girls, size wasn’t supposed to matter. With Michael, though, I was finding it was okay to be a naughty girl, and the feeling was incredibly liberating.

My legs instinctively parted, and I raked my nails across my inner thighs. “Yeah, I love really big cocks,” I said in a husky voice. I hiked my dress up around my waist, exposing my bare pussy (my bra and panties were stuffed in my purse). I fingered myself, fully aware that passing cars would be able to easily see my nakedness. “And I love being a bad girl.”

Michael looked at me. “Do you really?” He reached over and rubbed my clit. “How bad do you want to be?”

“God, I don’t know! Bad, really bad!”

Michael smiled excitedly. “We’re going to have a lot of fun together.”

The summer after my freshman year passed slowly. I went home and got a job lifeguarding at a local pool. It was boring, but I got a great tan, and it was fun teasing the teenage boys and dirty old men in my bikini. Michael graduated and got a job in one of the big New York law firms. I missed him more than I thought I would. It wasn’t just the crazy sex. We had become close and I missed his company.

That’s why I was so excited about his visit in late July. I introduced him as my boyfriend, and my parents were immediately impressed with him and his bright future as an attorney. Even my younger brother, who I’d never gotten along with, liked Michael. The weekend went really fast as I introduced Michael to my high school friends. While Michael wasn’t the most handsome, he was easily the nicest guy I’d ever dated, and all my friends liked him. By the end of the week I was really proud to be his girlfriend, which kind of surprised me. Up to that point I hadn’t thought of Michael as a real catch, but now I was starting to think he was.

Sunday night, Suzanne’s parents were having a BBQ party. After a few hours, with the party still going strong, Michael leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Have I told you how incredible you look tonight?” I smiled, knowing I looked good in my short flirty sun dress.

Then Michael added, “Suzanne’s dad hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you.”

I scowled at Michael. He knew how conflicted I was over Suzanne’s dad. Although I thought he was a creep, his molesting of me back in high school remained one of my most intense sexual experiences. “I’ve been trying to avoid him,” I said tersely.

Michael sported a wicked smile. “That’s not very polite. By the way, his name’s Bob. Why don’t you say hello to him? Better yet, why not thank him for hosting such a fun party. You know, one of your special thank yous.”

“Michael, no,” I protested. “He’s my friend’s dad. I’ve known them since I was in grade school.”

“That’s what makes it so hot,” Michael insisted. “Do you know what this party’s about? It’s their 25th wedding anniversary. You said you wanted to be bad. I know this turns you on, don’t deny it. I mean, come on, your nipples are so hard I can see them right through your dress.”

Michael was right, I was turned on, and on so many levels. Bob had been in my head for so many years. I’d often re-lived that night while masturbating, and often my fantasy ended with him fucking me. The thought of turning my fantasy into reality made my knees weak, as did the thought of getting him to cheat on his wife on their special wedding anniversary. “We’re going to hell for this, you know that don’t you?”

Michael grinned. “My place’s been reserved for a while now. I just saw him go into the upstairs bathroom. Why don’t you go there and ‘accidentally’ run into him?”

I made a face and stuck my tongue out at Michael, then walked to the house. I went up the back staircase to avoid running into anyone. The hallway to the bathroom was empty. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I thought as I touched the door knob. Hesitating, I unbuttoned the top two buttons of my dress. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Oh,” I said in feigned surprise as Bob turned from the sink. I stepped in, closing the door behind me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

Bob looked at me in surprise. Then his eyes focused on my chest. With the buttons undone, the swell of my small breasts were visible, as were my nipples (still hard) forming dents in the lightweight material of my sundress.

I reached behind me and locked the door. “Actually, that’s a lie. I saw you come into here. I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” Bob said warily, his eyes still on my breasts. I looked down, and saw a hint of my lacy pink bra was visible. I looked back up at Bob, and he looked away, embarrassed at having been caught staring. “What do you want to talk about?” he repeated, his voice dry and sounding hoarse.

“Well, I wanted your opinion.” I lowered my hands to the hem of my dress, which ended about mid-thigh. “Do you think my dress is too short? I wanted to make it shorter” — I raised the dress to just below my pussy — “but my boyfriend wouldn’t let me, he said too many guys would hit on me.” I pouted, and extended my toned right leg towards Bob. “I told Michael it wasn’t my fault so many men like my legs.” I brushed the toe of my ballet flat against Bob’s calf. “You’ve always liked my legs, haven’t you Bobby?”

“What — what about your boyfriend?” Bob choked out, sweat beginning to form on his brow. “He’s just outside.”

I took a step towards him, smiling mischievously. “I’ll tell you a secret,” I whispered. “The best thing about having a boyfriend is cheating on him.”

Bob took a step back to ward off my advance, but he hit the toilet and ended up sitting on the closed lid. “I always knew you were a dirty slut,” he said contemptuously, but excitement was clear in his face and voice.

“Yeah, I’m a real bad girl,” I said in a low, husky voice. I took another step closer so his hand touched the inside of my knee. “Just like in the car. Remember Bobby? When you touched me?” Not able to resist, Bob began caressing the inside of my knee and thigh. “Yeah, just like that,” I moaned. “I fantasize about that car ride all the time. God, if Suzanne hadn’t been in the back seat, I would have let you fuck me. Would you have liked that, Bobby? To fuck me?”

“Don’t call me that,” he chastised, but his hand continued its climb up my leg.

“Why?” I whispered huskily as I lowered my face to his. “Because only your wife calls you that?” We were so close our lips were almost touching. “Kiss me Bobby. I know you’ve always wanted to.”

I saw the indecision in his face, torn between his loyalty to his wife and his desire for me. Then suddenly he wrapped his arms around me and pressed his lips against mine, urgently pushing his tongue into my mouth.

“No, we can’t do this,” he said pulling back, disappointment on his face. “My wife and I are about to renew our marriage vows.”

I practically gasped with excitement. “Are you sure?” I said reaching down and fondling his crotch. I felt Bob’s body shudder with desire. “Don’t you want me?”

“Oh fuck it!” he said, reaching down and unzipping his pants. He pulled out his cock. He was rock hard and not bad in the size department. I reached into my purse and pulled out a condom. He ripped it open and put it on. I giggled when he ripped my panties off. He took hold of his shaft and lowered me on to him. “Oh god,” he moaned as he entered me. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this moment.”

Just then there was a knock on the door. “Honey, are you in there? Everyone’s waiting downstairs.” Bob looked alarmed at hearing his wife’s voice. He put a finger to my lips, but didn’t stop fucking me.

“Oh, ah — I’m just finishing up in here,” Bob said. He rapidly unbuttoned the rest of my dress and pushed it off my shoulders. “I’ll, ah, I’ll be done in a minute,” he said reaching behind me and unsnapping my bra.

“Okay, I’ll see you downstairs,” his wife said. “Bobby, I love you.”

Bob’s eyes grew wide as he gazed upon my bare breasts for the first time. “I love you too,” he said, cupping and fondling my breasts as I silently rode his cock.

I reached down and pulled off the condom. Seeing the confusion on his face, I leaned close as I pushed his cock back into me. “I want to feel you cum inside me,” I whispered into his ear.

His eyes grew wide, and the wickedness of making a pretty coed pregnant on his 25th anniversary sent him over the edge.

“I love you,” his wife repeated on the other side of the door.

“I love you too,” Bob grunted as he spasmed and shot his jism into me, but his response was muffled with his lips wrapped around my nipple.

Ten minutes later I stood next to Michael in the backyard, looking at Bob and his wife renew their vows. “I let him cum inside me,” I whispered. As Bob said “I do,” I felt weak-kneed as his jism slowly ran down my leg.

Michael raised an eyebrow. He knew I wasn’t on the pill due to allergies. He also knew I was staunchly anti-abortion for religious reasons. “Do you think there’s a chance —?” he asked, leaving the question unfinished.

“I think I’m okay,” I said unconvincingly, trying to remember when I had my last period. “I couldn’t help it. She was on the other side of the door. Something came over me. I wanted to feel him cum inside me.”

Michael smiled admiringly at me. “You’re so fucking bad. I love it.” He looked into my eyes. “And I love you.”

My grip tightened on Michael’s arm. “I love you, too,” I said, and to my surprise, I realized I meant it.

Chapter 4 – After College

Michael and I were a couple throughout my sophomore, junior and senior years in college. We saw each other every weekend, and spent every holiday together. During summers I lived with him and interned at dance studios. My parents loved Michael and supported my relationship with him. He even grew close to my brother, and sometimes we’d go on double dates. I also grew close to Michael’s family, getting to know his mother and father really well, and also becoming good friends with his younger brother Drew.

I never went back to Manny’s. The bar was too close to campus. My parents would’ve been horrified if they found out, and I didn’t want a reputation as a slut. Michael didn’t want that either. He said a big part of the fun of our kinky games was my innocent, blonde hair/blue eyed good girl image, and it wouldn’t be as much fun if everyone knew I was in reality a nasty slut.

I graduated and immediately moved in with Michael. I auditioned for shows on Broadway, and got a few small parts. The gigs hardly paid anything, but I didn’t need to make money because Michael was doing so well in his law firm. Michael encouraged me to keep dancing because he loved it when I came home from a rehearsal all hot and sweaty in my leotard and tights.

Michael bought me a new wardrobe every season. I had four closets in his apartment and they were all bursting with outrageously expensive designer mini-skirts, short dresses and revealing blouses, as well as dozens of high heels by Jimmy Choo, Prada, Christian Louboutin and Manolo Blahnik. He also spent thousands on lingerie, throwing out my pantyhose and tights and buying shopping bags of expensive garter belts, stockings and thigh highs.

We went out almost every night to expensive bars, restaurants and shows. My friends were envious of my lifestyle, and constantly told me how lucky I was to be with him. But it was more than just the expensive clothes and restaurants. Michael was the kindest and most supportive man I’d ever met. We shared every hope, dream and secret, and became very close. I’d fallen hopelessly in love with him.

We still played the game. Often, we played a game where we’d go to a bar separately. Michael liked to watch as men hit on me. I liked it too, because I loved to tease. Soon into this game I learned the incredible effect a lacy stocking top has on men. I quickly became an expert at “accidentally” flashing a little stocking top at my suitors. It usually happened at that brief moment of time between crossing my legs and adjusting my skirt. I’d look away at that moment, because I didn’t want to catch him staring (as that would give me away), but sometimes via the mirror behind the bar I’d see the men looking, their eyes full of lustful desires. Just thinking about it makes me moist.

I also came to realize that many men have a fetish over feet. Michael always complimented me on my feet, saying they were sexy because they were petite and slim, smooth and unblemished. One time as we were cabbing to a bar to play our game, Michael encouraged me to show off my feet, and suggested a few ways to do it. I thought he was crazy, but when I did it I couldn’t believe the reaction it had on men. As I stood talking to two guys, I lifted my foot from my high heel, not a lot, just an absentminded motion like the waving of your hand as you’re talking. The two guys gaped at my stockinged foot, and the men behind them were practically panting and didn’t take their eyes off my legs and feet, I guess hoping for a repeat performance.

Our game always resulted in great sex. Michael still encouraged me to have sex with other men. Technically we had an open relationship, but I would’ve died if he ever slept with another woman. Luckily his fantasy involved me with other men, not him and other women. He said he felt jealous when I fucked other men, but the jealousy added to his excitement and pleasure.

As our relationship grew, though, I resisted having sex with other men. In fact, I stopped doing that after I graduated from college. Michael was all I needed. For me, flirting and even a little petting with others were more than enough to satisfy my kinky urges. Our sex life might not have been as wildly exciting, but it was confortable and secure, and loving. Our life was idyllic, we were in love, and I longed for the day Michael would ask me to marry him.

Then everything changed.

I had just turned 24, and we were at a restaurant with Danny, another lawyer where Michael works. Danny reminded me of Jake from college, nice looking but extremely confident to the point of being arrogant, the stereotypical lawyer. Despite being so different and often competing as rivals for the same projects and promotions, Michael and Danny often hung out together.

Our waitress was a tall pretty blonde wearing a crisp white blouse and a black micro-mini skirt. More than once I caught Michael ogling her long legs (she wore black tights and Mary Jane high heels). I grew annoyed, especially when Michael and Danny started to openly flirt with the waitress. She couldn’t have been a day over 19. It’s funny. I was still a young woman, but looking at the waitress and her fresh good looks and bubbly personality, I felt old. I fumed when Michael seemed to linger over the menu as an excuse to continue flirting with the young waitress. I lost it when Michael leaned towards the girl, in the process pressing his arm against the girl’s abundant chest.

“Why don’t I leave so you can be alone with her!” I said angrily to Michael once she’d left.

Michael didn’t say anything, but Danny laughed. “Oh come on Jen, we’re just having some fun. Did you see her chest? How can someone so thin have tits that big? My god, they must be double-Ds!”

I felt hurt inside. Michael knew I was insecure about my small breasts. “Is that what you want, Michael, a pretty blonde with big breasts?” I glared at him to hide the hurt inside. “Well, sorry, I stopped stuffing my bra back in junior high!”

Danny roared at that. Michael sheepishly smiled. They were both drunk, and I’d had enough. I got up and left the bar, intending to catch a cab home.

Just then a figure entered the cab. I hoped it was Michael, coming after me to apologize, but it was Danny. “Come on Jen, you can’t leave by yourself, this is New York City, it’s not safe.”

“Where’s Michael?”

“He said he’d give you some room to cool down.” Danny had a big grin on his face. “He said something about you having a nasty temper.”

I looked away. I did have a nasty temper, but I didn’t appreciate Michael telling people about it. “Whatever,” I said dismissively. “He probably just wants to flirt with the waitress some more.”

Danny shrugged, the smile still on his face. “What can I say, boys will be boys. Come on, you can crash at my place tonight, I have a spare bedroom.”

Danny handed me a big glass of white wine as soon as we entered his apartment. I sat down and took a big gulp of the wine. I wondered what Michael was doing, whether he was at that moment having sex with the waitress. I felt angry and hurt, and it wasn’t all about tonight. By that time, we’d been dating over 5 years; 3+ years in college, and 2 years since. In all the time, Michael’s eye had never wandered; I’d always been the center of his attention. But lately he’d been distant, even bored. We hadn’t had sex in a while, and I’d seen him looking at other girls. I felt terrible, wondering if Michael was getting ready to break up with me.

“Want some of this?”

I looked up, having forgotten about Danny. He held a joint.

“Sure,” I said, holding out my hand. But instead of giving me the joint, he brought it to my lips. “Whatever,” I thought still distracted over Michael, accepting the joint between my lips and taking a long drag.

I left lipstick around the joint but Danny didn’t seem to care. He took a long puff as he sat down next to me. I took another long sip of wine, then opened my lips again as Danny brought it to my mouth. This went on for about 10 minutes, Danny taking a drag, then me, then a sip of wine, then back to Danny. Soon I felt the warm comfortable haze of the marijuana flowing through my body. My troubles with Michael hadn’t gone away, but they felt like a distant memory.

I leaned back into the couch and closed my eyes. I felt something on my lips, and I thought it was the joint, but realized Danny was kissing me. “Danny, stop,” I said pulling away.

“Come on baby,” Danny said, pulling me to him. “What’s a sexy girl like you doing with a loser like Mike? You’re way too good for him.”

“Stop Danny,” I repeated as he pressed his lips against mine and shoved his tongue into my mouth. Danny cupped my breasts. “Stop,” I said again, pulling away.

Danny’s eyes moved to my thighs. In pulling away from him I had inadvertently hiked up my skirt, and my stocking tops were showing. I pulled down my skirt but it was too late, Danny was frenzied with lust. He batted away my hands and pushed my skirt up around my waist, exposing my lacy panties, garter belt and stockings. “Fuck you’re a sexy girl,” he admired as he plunged his tongue into my mouth.

“Danny, I said stop!” I protested again.

Danny finally pulled away. “You’re too good for Mike,” he said. “He doesn’t appreciate you. You know he’s having an affair with Lilly?”

“You’re lying,” I said. Lilly was Michael’s new secretary. I got up and pulled down my skirt, unsteady in my heels due to the lingering effects of the marijuana.

“I’m not lying,” he insisted. “You saw how Michael acted tonight with that waitress. Face it, he likes young girls. Lilly’s 18, just out of high school. You’ve seen her. She’s blonde and pretty, with long legs. She’s just like you, except a lot younger.”

I felt tears forming in my eyes. Could it be true? But then I knew it was true. Michael’s wandering eyes had always fallen on young girls. And I knew Michael’s type – pretty leggy blondes. Lilly reminded me of me, except she was 18, and I was 24. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I realized my relationship with Michael was ending.

Danny came to me and wiped away my tears with his hand. “Mike’s an idiot. You’re way hotter than Lilly. Mike’s a loser, he doesn’t know what he’s got.”

Danny led me to his bedroom, and I followed in a stupor. I didn’t have the will to resist. He undressed me to my lingerie and laid me on the bed. “You’re so fucking hot!” he said admiring my body. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.” He took off his shirt, revealing a muscular chest, and then his pants. Despite my despair, I couldn’t help noticing the size of his penis. He was huge.

Seeing my expression, Danny smiled. “I’ve seen Mike in the gym,” he said with contempt. “Tonight you’re going to see what it’s like to be with a real man.”

Danny’s words vibrated through my head. Something inside me snapped, and my jealousy and heartache turned to anger. I knew I was pretty and had a killer body. “Fine Michael, you go and chase after all the teenage girls you want,” I thought. “Let me tell you something, they’ll get older, and we’ll see how good they look then.”

“Come here,” I said to Danny, rolling off the bed and onto my knees. Danny smiled, and when he approached I took his cock in my hands. He was so big I needed both hands to hold him. I took him into my mouth, stroking his shaft as I sucked on his cockhead. He reached down and expertly unsnapped my bra. I detached myself from his cock long enough to let the bra fall from my arms and onto the floor. I saw the lust in his eyes as he lecherously gawked at my breasts. “Fuck you’re gorgeous!” he gushed. “You’re perfect!”

I beamed inside. I hadn’t realized how much I missed the adoration of men, something that had been missing so long from Michael as our relationship grew stale. It’d been two years since I’d held a penis other than Michael’s, and I planned on enjoying myself.

Danny pulled me up and laid me on the bed. I curled my toes in my heels to keep my Jimmy Choos from falling off, because I could tell Danny was a man who liked to fuck a girl wearing high heels. Danny pulled my panties down my legs and stared at my pussy, which I kept bare except for a tiny landing strip above my clit. “Beautiful!” he said, and he moved between my legs. He lifted my legs to his shoulders, his hands running up and down my nylons. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he said looking into my eyes.

He reached over to his night table and picked up a condom. I put my hand over his. “That’s okay, you don’t need to use that.”

“I thought you’re allergic to the pill. Mike told me he always uses a condom.”

“I do always make him use a condom,” I said, wondering what else Michael had told Danny. “But for you – I want to feel you cum inside me.”

Danny grinned. “You really want to get back at Mike, huh?”

I raked my manicured nails along Danny’s muscular chest. “I just want to feel you inside me. Now fuck me – please. I’m so hot for you.” And I realized I was telling the truth. The lack of sex with Michael, Danny’s beautiful body, and the marijuana were making me horny as hell. I wanted to feel Danny’s incredible cock inside me, I wanted to cum all over his thick shaft, I wanted to feel him shoot his sperm inside me.

I reached between my legs and took hold of his shaft, guiding him to me. He pushed harm and I grunted from his size. For the past two years I’d only had Michael’s smallish penis, and I felt like a virgin again. “Harder!” I urged Danny, grimacing as his fat cockhead penetrated me. “Oh god,” I moaned as he inched his long shaft inside me. I was stretched so tight around his thick cock I could actually feel the wide veins running along his shaft. “Faster!” I urged him, running my nails up and down his muscular arms. “Harder, faster!” I begged.

Within moments I felt Danny’s body tense, and then he violently lunged into me, once, twice, over and over, his fertile seed splashing against the walls of my fertile womb. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, urging him deeper inside me, bringing his lips down to mine so we could seal our fucking with the intimacy of a kiss.

Two hours later I stepped into Michael’s apartment. I had let Danny fuck me twice more, each time bareback, each time letting him cum inside me. I carried my high heels in my hand. I had worn the heels while Danny fucked me and only taken them off in the cab. My stockings were laddered and semi-detached from my garter belt. I was braless under my untucked blouse, and panty-less under my skirt. My pussy was red and moist from Danny’s sperm. My blonde hair was a mess and my makeup long gone. Hickeys were all over my neck, Danny having marked me as his fuck toy for the night. In other words, I was freshly fucked, and I wanted Michael to see me that way.

I walked into our bedroom – Michael’s bedroom now – expecting to see him with Lilly or the waitress, or some other “barely legal” blonde. Instead I found him reading, apparently waiting for me. He looked up and stared at me. He got up and walked to me. He pulled my blonde hair back, inspecting my neck, seeing Danny’s hickeys. “You’ve been with Danny,” he said, stating the obvious.

Tears gushed down my cheeks. “And you’ve been screwing Lilly, you shit!” I sobbed, feeling like my life was over, waiting for him to drop the bomb that we were over.

Unexpectantly, Michael laid me on the bed. As I sobbed, he straddled my chest and slowly unbuttoned my blouse. He stared at my bare breasts, running his fingers lightly over the red splotches that evidenced Danny’s rough handling. He pressed down against my nipples, rolling them between his fingers. “They’re so swollen,” he said. “Danny sucked them hard, didn’t he?”

I stopped sobbing as Michael continued his inspection of my body. He pulled down my skirt, then carefully ran his fingers along the runs in my stockings. “He must’ve fucked you hard to do this to your stockings,” he said.

Then Michael moved between my legs. Suddenly feeling ashamed, I covered my well used pussy with my hands, but Michael pushed them away. “Your pussy lips are so swollen,” he marveled. He ran a finger along the wetness. “You let him fuck you without a condom. And cum inside you.”

Michael pulled out his penis and entered me. “How many times did Danny fuck you?” he asked.

I turned away, but Michael pulled my head back. “Tell me!” he begged, looking into my eyes.

“Three times,” I finally admitted.

“Did he make you cum?”

“Yes,” I said. It was partly true. I’d cum, but with help from my hand. Michael remained the only man to make me orgasm solely from intercourse. I’d never told him that, and this hold he had over my body suddenly made me resentful, especially in light of his affair with Lilly. So I added harshly, “His cock is so much bigger than yours!”

“Oh god, really?” His words sounded like moan.

“Oh yes. And his body’s so nice.” I ran my hands over Michael’s arms and chest, feeling the softness where with Danny it had been so hard and defined. “He fucked me so good!” I gushed.

“I missed it, you know? Being fucked by a hard body. A big cock. So long I’ve only had you. God, you’re so small compared to Danny! I can barely feel you inside me!”

“Oh god, I’m cumming!” Michael screamed. And I realized I was cumming too. Damn it, this shit was going to make me cum again!

“Ugh gaaaawd!” I cried as my orgasm sent wave after wave of incredible pleasure through my body. Moments later Michael spasmed, and added his sperm to Danny’s seed.

*************************

By some miracle I didn’t get pregnant. Michael stopped seeing Lilly, and transferred her out of his office. We stayed together, although our relationship hung by a thread. Danny repeatedly called, saying how much he adored me. Michael paid more attention to me, but it seemed forced at times, and sometimes I still caught him glancing at other girls. It didn’t help when I found out his new secretary was another young leggy blonde. I felt at a crossroads, needing to decide if there was a future for us, and whether I was willing to do what it would take to hold on to him.

A few weeks after the blowup, Danny called and begged to see me. I had landed a small part in a new off-Broadway production of Chicago, and rehearsal had just ended. “I don’t have anything to change into,” I told Danny, looking into the dressing room mirror and seeing my tight Danskin glued to my sweaty body. Thinking of Michael, I made a snap decision. “But if you don’t mind, well, okay, I’ll meet you in about 30 minutes?”

Hours later, I opened the door into Michael’s study. As always nowadays, he was behind his computer. I knew he read a lot of porn (a lot of hot wife stories), and he barely acknowledged my presence. I dropped my coat and workout bag on the floor and leaned against the door so he could see my profile.

“I saw Danny tonight,” I said casually, extending my right leg and nonchalantly tapping the toe of my black ankle strap dance shoe on the floor.

Michael looked up from his screen. “What?”

“Danny. I saw him tonight, after rehearsal.” I kept idly tapping my toe, a little to the left, a little to the right. I felt Michael’s eyes on my toned legs, I felt his eyes traveling up my body. I knew what he’d see. He’d see I wasn’t wearing the bra top I normally wore – I hadn’t put it back on — so he’d also see the outline of my breasts and hard nipples clearly outlined in my tight Danskin. He’d see my hair loose and tousled, not in the neat pony tail I always wore to rehearsal. He’d see my face flushed.

Michael got up from his desk and walked over to me. Standing just inches from me, he cupped my breast, rolling his thumb over my nipple. “What did you do with him?” he asked.

“You know, what friends do,” I said, a moan caught in my voice as he expertly fondled me.

“Did you go to a bar?”

I shook my head. “His apartment.” I moved my foot up his pants leg, pressing the hard toe of my shoe against his ankle.

“His apartment,” he repeated, as if contemplating the implications. His eyes traveled down my body. I knew what he’d see. A camel toe formed in the crotch of my leotard, the material moist. I felt his finger run between my swollen pussy lips, exploring the wetness in the material. “Did you cheat on me with Danny?” he asked, his voice quivering with excitement.

“I love you Michael,” I answered, looking into his eyes. “Would I cheat on you?”

He caressed my neck, his fingers lightly drawing circles over the hickey Danny had marked me with. Then he pressed his lips against mine, pushing his tongue into my mouth, his hands urgently exploring my body. He threw me onto the sofa and ripped off my clothes. Just as he was about to plunge into my well used pussy, he looked into my eyes. “God I love you!”

*************************

My affair with Danny went on for 3 months. I never admitted it to Michael – that was the game we were playing – and Danny didn’t know that Michael knew. We met 2 or 3 times a week. Danny adored my body, and even said he loved me. He wanted me to break up with Michael and move in with him. But while I loved Danny’s body and what he could do with it, I didn’t love him.

I loved Michael, despite all his warped desires. Outside our sex life, he remained the kind gentle man I’d fallen in love with, and once again he was lavishing me with his attention and warmth. He stopped looking at other girls. I was the center of his world.

To be truthful, I got off on the kinky sex games we played. It thrilled me to fuck Danny moments after being with Michael, or make love with Michael an hour after having Danny’s huge cock inside me, all the while pretending my body was exclusively Michael’s. Unbeknownst to him, Danny added fuel to our game. While he never admitted it, I could tell he got off on screwing his rival’s girlfriend. A few weeks into our affair, Michael was chosen over Danny for a big promotion. That night the three of us went out to celebrate. Danny pretended like he was being a good sport, but while he congratulated Michael he had his hand up my skirt.

Danny had schemed with a co-worker to page Michael back to the office for a client emergency. As Michael kissed me goodbye and insisted everyone stay and enjoy themselves, Danny was fingering me under the table. As Michael disappeared out the restaurant door, Danny smiled knowingly at some of his friends around the table. I suspected Danny told many people at the law firm he was screwing me right under Michael’s nose. He got off on that, having an affair with his rival’s girlfriend.

Minutes after Michael’s departure, Danny got up and announced he was calling it a night. “How about I give you a ride home?” he said to me. I nodded, getting up. I blushed, knowing everyone knew I was having an affair with Danny and was going home with him. God, my pussy throbbed.

Danny made me call Michael in the taxi, and tell him Danny was escorting me home. As I said “I love you” to Michael, I held back moans as Danny unbuttoned my blouse and sucked on my nipples.

I’d worn very special lingerie, a lacy red bustier Michael had given me for Valentine’s day. Danny loved it when I told him that. The thought of fucking me in the special outfit I had worn for Michael made him even more frenzied with lust. He insisted we go to Michael’s apartment, because he wanted to fuck me in the bed I shared with Michael. We had never done that before, but Danny intended to get as much revenge on Michael that he could over the promotion.

I got into it too. “Don’t put that on!” I insisted as Danny reached for a condom. “I want to really feel you tonight!”

This was a special treat for Danny, because other than that first time, I’d never let him inside me without a condom. Danny knew it, and he didn’t waste any time plunging his huge cock inside me.

“Oh god, you feel so good!” I cried as he penetrated me bareback with his long, thick cock.

“Better than Michael?” he panted into my face.

“Oh god, so much better! So much bigger!”

Later that night, I met Michael at the door. I still wore the red satin bustier, as well as the stockings and high heels. But the bustier was stained with Danny’s jism. The stockings were heavily laddered. And the patent leather of the high heels were scuffed from Danny’s earlier rough fucking.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” I said, reaching up on my tip toes and kissing Michael on the lips. “I’m so proud of you, and your promotion.” I did a sweet pirouette, circling very slow so he could see the evidence of my cheating. “Do you like?” I asked innocently.

“Yeah,” he said with a hoarse, excited voice. He pushed me to the bedroom. I hadn’t changed the sheets or even made the bed. Wet spots were everywhere. I laid on the bed and spread my legs. He sat next to me and inspected the dampness of my thighs. Then he pulled aside my panties (which were soaking wet), and studied my pussy. I’m sure he could see thick white liquid ooze from my swollen pussy lips.

He got between my legs and pulled out his hard penis. “Here,” I said, handing him a condom. He ripped it open and put it on, but it loosely draped over his penis. In his frenzied lust he looked confused, but then he glanced at the package, which said “Magnum XXL.” Understanding came to him. It was one of Danny’s condoms. Suddenly, Michael’s body convulsed, and he came into the condom.

As Michael’s spasms subsided, I pulled him to me. “That’s okay, we can do it tomorrow,” I said with a soft voice. Michael spooned me. “I love you,” he said into my ear.

“I love you too,” I sighed, happier and more content than I’d ever been in my life.

Chapter 5

In all our game playing, I almost always made my lover wear a condom. I wasn’t on any other birth control (I couldn’t use the pill), and my religious beliefs wouldn’t let me consider abortion (I’m Catholic). I could count on my two hands the number of times in my entire life I’d let a lover and even my boyfriend cum inside me.

That’s why it seemed unfair when the pregnancy test showed positive. But maybe it was my sins finally catching up to me. It didn’t matter why, I guess. I called in sick to rehearsal, curled into a ball in bed, and cried and cried. It might seem strange with all the promiscuous things I’d done, but I still wanted the father of my baby to be the man I loved. I guess a little part of me was normal like everyone else. But there was no chance the baby was Michael’s. It had to be Danny’s.

I guess it didn’t surprise me when lust filled Michael’s eyes as I told him I was pregnant. He knew I was going to have the baby, and he knew the baby wasn’t his. We never spoke of it — how could we, as we were still playing the game where Danny was my secret lover? He even said, “Well, I guess what they say is right, condoms aren’t foolproof.” That made me cry again, and he held and comforted me. For a moment he stepped out of the game. “I’ll love this baby, as much as I love you. You’re my life. I’ll always take care of you and the baby.” That made me cry some more, and reminded me why I loved him despite all the craziness.

We made love three times that night. Michael couldn’t get enough of me. I knew why. I was cheating on him. His rival with the handsome face, gorgeous body, and beautiful cock was fucking me right under his nose, and he had succeeded in getting me pregnant. His rival had cuckolded him, and now the girlfriend he loved was going to be carrying his rival’s baby in her tummy for the next 9 months. This was Michael’s ultimate fantasy, and the fact I had turned it into reality turned him on to no end.

The next day, Michael asked me to marry him. Despite everything, I couldn’t help being overjoyed. I bawled as he put his engagement ring on my finger, and the people around us at Per Se applauded and cheered. We told our parents, and they couldn’t have been more happy for us. We also told them I was pregnant, and they didn’t seem to mind (of course, we gave no clue the father wasn’t Michael). We wanted the wedding to happen before I started showing, so it was planned for two months from now.

For the next 3 weeks I avoided Danny. I didn’t want to see him. I’m sure he knew about my engagement to Michael, and I didn’t want to have to go through the charade of breaking up with him. I was hoping he’d get the message and go away, but to my dismay he texted me and left voice mails constantly. He said he loved me, he wanted me to dump Michael and marry him, he said his life would be over if he couldn’t see me anymore.

I felt so bad. While it was just a game to me, a way to excite Michael, to Danny it was much more. Had he really fallen in love with me? One evening at dinner, Michael said, “You know, I ran into Danny today. He’s seems in a bad way. Do you know what could be bothering him?”

“Um — no, I have no idea,” I said, not sure where Michael was going with this.

Michael looked into my eyes. “Well, I know the two of you are friends. I thought you might want to have lunch with him. Maybe you can help him with his problem.”

I looked incredulously at Michael. His message was clear. He wanted me to continue my affair with Danny. I guess it didn’t really surprise me. A part of me thought it was wrong. We were engaged, and I was pregnant. But I hadn’t really believed Michael would change. And what about me? I’d never been satisfied with “normal” sex. Going all the way back to Suzanne’s dad, it was the kinky stuff that turned me on.

Then I thought about Danny. While not emotionally, I missed him physically. He was really good looking, and his body was incredible. It was so naughty, fucking him behind Michael’s back. I imagined Danny on top of me, his big cock deep inside me. I imagined gripping Danny’s powerful arms, and seeing the sparkle of my engagement ring as Danny filled me with more of his seed.

I felt moisture between my legs. “Well, okay,” I finally said in a resigned, but excited voice. “I’ll call him tomorrow.”

My affair with Danny continued until right before the wedding. He fucked me all the time, sometimes every day. Once he fucked me in his office, as I could hear Michael speaking just outside the locked door. Another time he fucked me against the wall in an alley outside a restaurant, while Michael sat inside at our table. I never told Danny I was pregnant. I didn’t want to deal with that. A few days before the wedding, Michael casually mentioned that Danny had been transferred to their Minnesota office. That surprised me, because Minnesota was the office they sent lawyers who had no future with the law firm. Later, I quietly checked around and discovered Michael had arranged for Danny’s transfer. I couldn’t help admiring Michael. In the end, he had proven who was the true Alpha Male. That night, I fucked Michael’s brains out, and came twice on his cock. I felt a little sorry for Danny, but not too much. I knew he’d be able to easily get another job making kazillions a year. I missed him as a lover though. He never made me cum like Michael, but he had a gorgeous face and wonderful body, and he could reach places that sometimes I yearned to be reached.

We honeymooned in the Bahamas. I wasn’t showing yet, so my tummy was still flat and the rest of my body tight and toned from dancing. I tan easily, so it took just a day to make my body a golden brown. The ocean saltwater and sun made my natural blonde hair even blonder. I paraded around the pool and resort in skimpy bikinis and flirty sundresses like I owned the place, and wherever I went I had the thrill of attracting every male eye. I reveled in my youth and beauty, my freshness, my pretty face and long blonde hair, my tight ass and long legs, my perfect breasts and pretty feet, and I loved the lusty stares from men and the envious and annoyed looks from their wives and girlfriends. I couldn’t stop looking at my wedding ring and its huge diamond, and I loved all the attention my new husband lavished upon me. I was in nirvana, and so was Michael. He loved the lustful stares I got from other men, and whenever I wanted to drive him even more out of his mind with desire, I only had to bring his hand to my tummy.

We were lounging by the pool when a bunch of hunky guys jumped in and played a rowdy game of water basketball. I wore a skimpy white bikini that showed off my tan, and that was just sheer enough to hint at my dark nipples and areolas when wet. The guys kept glancing my way as they played. I pretended not to notice, but Michael was paying close attention. After a few minutes he looked at me. “I think I’ll head up to the room for a while and check my email.” Then he looked back at the guys in the pool, inviting me to look back with him.

I recognized the expression on his face, and the tone of his voice. He wanted to play the game. I tilted my head in surprise. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m positive.” His voice burned with excitement, and lust filled his eyes.

I watched him walk away, and then thought for a moment. The thought of playing the game on our honeymoon, just days after saying our wedding vows, sent a wicked shiver down my spine. After a few minutes, I got up and stepped into the far side of the pool, well away from the basketball game. The guys threw the ball back and forth, moving in my direction, and soon they surrounded me.

The basketball game continued, but now I was in the middle of it. “Hey!” I laughed as someone splashed me with water. Up to that point I was wet only up to my tummy. Now I was soaked. “Sorry,” the guilty guy said, his eyes on my wet bikini top and what it might be revealing. Then another guy splashed more water on me. “If you don’t like the water get out of the pool!” he said laughing. I laughed and splashed back, and soon we were in a full-fledged water battle. They invited me to play in their basketball game, which turned into a “let’s grope the pretty blonde girl as much as possible” game. We were all laughing and having a good time.

One of the guys, Anton, was particular hunky — out of this world gorgeous, really — so I invited him to sit next to me. “Just toss that on the ground,” I said pointing to the magazine Michael had been reading.

“Where’s your husband?” Anton asked as he carelessly threw the magazine onto the wet pool deck, soaking and ruining it.

“I don’t know,” I said in an uncaring voice. “Email I think.”

“I heard you got married just last week? Man, if I had a hot wife like you, I wouldn’t let her out of my sight.”

“Are you flirting with me?” I said laughing, and he laughed too. “Honestly, though, I don’t mind when he’s away.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked looking intrigued.

I shrugged, then picked up the Coppertone and rubbed lotion over my long legs. As I bent at the waist to lather my calves, my wet bikini top fell away slightly, giving him a view of my breasts. Sitting back up, I looked at him and smiled. Then I stretched out onto my belly, glancing fleeting at his crotch. He had an erection (and a nice big one too). I rested my head on my crossed arms, and closed my eyes. “Could you put lotion on my back?”

He bolted out of his chair and sat next to me on mine. Then I felt his hands on my back, rubbing lotion across my soft tanned skin. It felt good. His hands were large and strong and calloused, so different from Michael’s. “What do you mean, you don’t mind when your husband’s away?” Anton asked again.

I noticed the people around us eavesdropping on our conversation. “Shhhh,” I whispered. I reached behind me and pulled the bottom string of my top. “Can you rub here? Last year I got burnt.”

“Listen,” he said in a low voice as he enthusiastically rubbed lotion on my back. “My friends are going clubbing tonight. If you’re looking for some fun –”

God his hands felt good. I could tell this wasn’t the first time he’d given a girl a massage. Feeling naughtier by the second, I reached back and pulled the top string of my bikini. “Here too, okay?” I said, his hands on my neck as soon as the words left my lips. “Wait,” I said, pulling my blonde hair to the side. He started again on my neck. Then his fingers went up and down my bare back, from my neck to just above my butt crack, his movement more sensual than massaging.

Without my asking or permission, he started on my legs, moving from the edge of my bikini bottoms to the soles of my feet. I didn’t stop him. The way he slowly and carefully worked my thighs and calves, I knew he was a leg man. “Man, your legs are toned!” he gushed, confirming my suspicion.

“I’m a dancer,” I murmured, opening my legs slightly. He noticed, and his hands moved up my inner thighs. I’m sure he noticed the moisture in the crotch of my bikini bottoms.

“You dance in a strip club?” he teased. I could hear the smile on his face.

“Broadway, you jerk,” I replied pretending to be angry. “I’m in Chicago.”

“Chicago, huh? Are you one of those dancers who wears a garter belt and stockings?”

Suddenly my cell rang. Holding my top across my breasts with one hand, I reached for the phone with my other. “It’s my husband,” I said looking at the caller-id. I listened to Michael for a minute, then re-tied my top. “I’ve got to go,” I said to Anton.

Anton grabbed my hand as I got up. “Tonight?” he asked.

I’m sure he saw the indecision on my face. “How can I contact you?” I finally said, whispering.

Smiling, he grabbed the cell from my hand and dialed a number. I heard a ringing from his cell. “I’ve just called myself,” he said. “Now you’ve got my number on your phone.”

I nodded nervously. “So you’ll come?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Yes you’ll come?” he said excitedly.

I smiled teasingly. “No — Yes, I’m one of those girls in Chicago who wears stockings.” I rushed off, a big smile on my face. Entering the hotel lobby, I went into the gift shop and bought a red baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses. Then I went to our room.

I found Michael in the room working on his computer. I came up behind him and put my arms around his neck, affectionately kissing the top of his head. “Hi honey, what’re you doing?”

“Work, what else? Another client emergency.”

“Oh,” I said. Contrary to what he said, I saw he was surfing the Loving Wives section of Literotica.

Walking to the sofa I casually took off my bikini and tossed it onto the cushion, as if getting ready to take a shower. I pretended to be thinking about something, avoiding his eyes, but I made sure I was in his field of vision, making it easy for him to see my erect nipples, my flushed cheeks, my swelling pussy lips, all signs he knew marked my sexual arousal. I stepped into my black high heels, walking here and there, as if trying them on for the first time.

“What are you doing?” he asked looking amused and intrigued.

I giggled. “I don’t know, just daydreaming I guess, thinking about what to wear for dinner.”

He got up and put his arms around me. “I’m sorry, honey, but I think I’ll need to work tonight. There’s a big deadline tomorrow. Why don’t you go without me?”

I feigned disappointment. “Well … I think I heard the guys at the pool say they were going to a club tonight.”

Michael shrugged, pretending to look back at his computer screen. “That sounds like fun,” he said trying to sound uninterested, but I heard excitement in his voice.

“Um, could you do something for me first?” I asked grabbing his hand. I led him to the bed. Still wearing the black heels, I got on top of him, moving up his body until I straddled his face. “Do you mind?” I asked, lowering myself onto his face. Michael eagerly lapped at my damp pussy, his hands moving up my toned thighs and down my tight ass. Putting my hands on his head to steady myself, I closed my eyes and remembered the pool, how I practically undressed for Anton, how he rubbed and caressed my body and then asked me out, how I so scandalously did this in front of so many people, people who likely knew I was a newly married bride on my honeymoon, and how I had retreated from Anton with my nipples erect and my bikini bottoms damp, their disapproving eyes on me, whispering to each other how I was such a dirty cheating wife. I pushed and gyrated against Michael mouth, silently urging him to lick hard against my clit and to stick his tongue into my pussy. After the pool I desperately needed some release before I could hope to go out and see Anton and his friends again.

Sensing I was close to the edge, Michael rapidly flicked the tip of his tongue over my clit, just the way he knew drives me wild. My body tensed and then shuddered, and I mercilessly pushed and rubbed my pussy against Michael’s face, wanting to lengthen and intensify my orgasm. Even after my orgasm subsided, I remained planted on my new husband’s face, catching my breath. Finally I got off him, letting my heels drop off my feet and hit the floor.

His face was wet from my moisture. His pants sported a huge tent. Normally I’d reciprocate now and give him pleasure, but tonight was different. He started this after all. I turned and started for the shower.

“Ah, honey, my turn?” he said, pointing to his pants.

I gave him a mischievous look and laughed playfully. “You don’t want me to be late, do you?” I leaned in to kiss him, but at the last moment teasingly pulled away. I gripped his balls just hard enough to make him winch. “Don’t you dare play with yourself,” I warned. “I have plans for you tonight.”

I showered and came back into the room wearing my robe. Michael pretended to work at his computer, but in reality watched my every move. I felt like an actress playing a role. Paying no attention to him, I fixed my hair and put on more make up than usual (he loves it when I wear a lot of makeup). With that done, I dropped my robe and rubbed moisturizer all over my body, spending extra time on my long legs and pretty feet. Then I put on my pink Jimmy Choo strappy high heels. It had 4 inch pencil thin heels and two leather straps, one over my toes (freshly painted pink), and the other around my ankles. I sauntered around the room pretending to think about what to wear, but in reality I had already decided. I knew Michael loved to see me nude in stiletto heels. Finally I put on my chosen dress. Michael had bought it for me before the wedding. It was light pink and tied in a bow in the back. It was snug from my shoulders to waist, but at my waist the skirt flared out and ended around mid-thigh. If I danced at all the skirt could easily fly above the parts of me that only my husband should see, but that wasn’t what made the dress outrageous. What made the dress obscene was its material, which was fine in normal light, but in strobe lights the dress became practically transparent.

I kissed Michael and opened the door. “I bought you a little present” I said pointing to the bag on the bed as I disappeared out the door.

At the club Anton’s hands were all over me, but I managed to keep it decent. He repeatedly tried to drag me to the dance floor, but I hesitated. Finally I saw a man among the crowd, wearing a red hat and sunglasses. With a slight smile, I took Anton’s hand and let him lead me to the dance floor. I gently nudged him to the side of the club where Red Hat was standing. We started dancing facing each other, with Anton trying to put his arms around me. I kept him at a distance, enjoying the music and twirling back and forth. With each twirl my skirt ballooned, revealing more of my legs and sometimes the curve of my behind, making the people watching wonder if I had gone commando (in fact, I had worn a lacy pink g-string). Strobe lights pulsed through the high energy dance floor, each intense flash rendering my dress practically transparent and momentarily revealing my body to the hungry male eyes around us. Anton’s eyes were lust filled, as were those of the men watching us. Red Hat wore sunglasses so I couldn’t see his reaction, but I knew what he wanted. I turned and then leaned into Anton, pressing my back against his front, feeling his hard cock between my butt cheeks. Anton’s hands were on my hips, and as we swayed to the music I raised my arms behind me and around Anton’s neck. I closed my eyes as the strobe lights revealed my body to Red Hat and the other men watching. I felt Anton’s lips on my cheek, and I turned my head and parted my lips, inviting his tongue into my mouth. Then I felt Anton’s hands move up my body and cup my breasts, denying the sight of my nipples and areolas from Red Hat, but treating him to a more erotic show as my new lover cupped and fondled me.

About an hour later I returned to our suite at the resort. Michael sat in the bed, and I probably looked freshly fucked to him. He eagerly beckoned me to join him, and as soon as I sat down he kissed me and smelled my hair. He must have liked what he found because his cock grew harder against my side. “I finished work early, so I went looking for you,” he said.

“Really? Too bad you couldn’t find us.”

“Yeah, too bad. But I had an interesting time.” Michael laid me down and got on top of me. “There was a girl there, a good looking blonde. You should have seen her, you could see right through her dress. She practically fucked the guy she was with on the dance floor in front of everyone.”

Michael pushed my dress up around my waist. He stopped talking to look at me. My panties were gone, and a thick milky fluid oozed between my swollen pussy lips. “What happen then?” I asked as I unzipped his fly and pulled out his hard penis. I grabbed his shaft and guided him towards me. God I needed him inside me!

“She went with him into the alley behind the club,” he said entering me. “I followed with a bunch of other guys. We watched as he fucked her up against the wall.”

“Oh god,” I moaned as Michael fucked me. “He must’ve been really long if he could fuck her standing up.”

Michael paused, looking at me inquiringly. “Really?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I breathed. “Otherwise he’d fall out of her.”

Michael considered my words. “I guess it might be hard for me to do you that way.”

“You feel good just like this,” I assured him, urging him to begin fucking me again. “Tell me what happened next.”

“He fucked her so hard he practically lifted her out of her heels. He probably would have, if she hadn’t been wearing ankle strap heels.” I pressed the stilettos of my ankle strap heels into my husband’s calves.

“God she had fantastic legs!” Michael gushed. “She wrapped one leg around his thigh, like she was begging him to go deeper inside her. Did I tell you she didn’t make him wear a condom?”

“I guess it didn’t matter if he came inside her,” I said, bringing Michael’s hands to my tummy.

“Oh god!” he gasped as he came. I came too, experiencing wonderful pleasure and once again marveling at Michael’s ability to give me vaginal orgasms. He spooned me and we fell asleep, happy and content with what we were able to give to each other.

Chapter 6 – Dating Edward ,/B>

Pregnancy was hard. Morning sickness hit me soon after our honeymoon. I couldn’t dance and had to leave the cast of Chicago, which broke my heart. But after 9 months I gave birth to a wonderful baby boy, who I instantly adored. True to his word, Michael was a wonderful father. We named the baby Michael Jr. and called him Mickey.

About three months after giving birth, Michael called and said he was bringing an important new client home for dinner. I hurriedly got ready. I’d gone from size 2 to 4 during the pregnancy, and hadn’t yet lost the extra weight. I couldn’t wear my slinkiest dresses, but there were a few outfits that fit. We hadn’t played the game at all since the honeymoon, and our sex life was almost non-existent. I suspected Michael wanted me to play the game with Edward, so I dressed to impress. I knew what turned Michael on, and I didn’t want his wandering eye to re-emerge. Also, despite my new role as the mother of a newborn, which I cherished, I missed the wild kinky sex from before.

Edward was older, probably early 50s, but he was handsome and distinguished. Michael didn’t waste any time. As we sat on the sofa sipping wine, with Edward sitting on a chair across from us, Michael began caressing my neck and shoulder, and then started kissing me. I felt movement next to me, and realized Edward had joined us on the sofa. Soon Edward’s hands were on me, and Michael moved to the chair to watch as Edward fondled and kissed me. Edward took off my dress, leaving me in just my lingerie and heels. I wanted to turn off the light, embarrassed by the slight bulges in my stomach and hips, but Michael wouldn’t allow it as he wanted to watch. Edward took off his clothes. For an older man he kept in shape. His body was lean and well-defined, and his penis was an impressive size, one of the longest I’d ever seen. It felt good with Edward inside me. While not as energetic as a younger man, he was an experienced, considerate lover. I didn’t make him wear a condom because he had gotten a vasectomy years ago. As Edward fucked me I looked over at Michael, who was excitedly beating off.

Michael encouraged me to have a relationship with Edward. Edward’s wife had died the year before and he had been looking for a younger girl to spend time with. He wanted great sex and a little romance, but not anything serious like marriage (he wasn’t ready for that). This seemed to be a new wrinkle on Michael’s fantasy. With Danny and Anton, I’d been the cheating girlfriend/fiancée/wife, having secret affairs behind Michael’s back. Now with Edward, Michael wanted me to have not just a physical but also an emotional relationship with another man. I’d read enough stories on Literotica and other sites to know this was a variation on the hot wife/cuckold fantasy. I didn’t see any harm in it. I’d get great sex with Edward and satisfy Michael’s fantasies at the same time. While I liked Edward, there wasn’t any chance I’d fall in love with him, which was exactly the relationship Edward wanted. So when Edward called a few days later and asked me out, I accepted.

“I loved watching you dance in Chicago,” Edward said as we sipped a cocktail before dinner.

“You saw me?” I asked surprised.

“Didn’t Mike tell you? He showed me a video of the production, from about a year ago. I know this is a terrible thing to say, but that’s when I decided to hire Mike as my attorney. After he told me about this game you play, and how he’d be willing to share you with me, well … honestly I couldn’t resist, you’re extraordinarily beautiful.”

My cheeks reddened with embarrassment. “You must think we’re so demented.”

“It’s unconventional, that’s for sure,” he said laughing, but not in an unkindly way. Then he looked admiringly at me. “My god you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

I thought of the baby weight I hadn’t yet lost. “I’m not as pretty as when you saw me in Chicago.”

He smiled leecherously at me, the lust so apparent in his eyes it sent a shiver down my spine. “Come home with me, and I’ll show you how beautiful and sexy I think you are.”

I went home with him. That’s when I realized how rich he was, as his home was a huge condo in an ultra-exclusive building in Central Park. He fucked me twice, and Michael fucked me again when I got home. I went out with Edward 2 or 3 times a week. Sometimes I spent the night with him, or even the weekend. He liked taking me to society parties. Michael loved it I was spending so much time with Edward. Sometimes we’d go out as a threesome. If you saw us, you’d have thought I was married to Edward, not Michael. It was a naughty thrill to hold Edward’s hand and whisper sweet nothings into his ear as Michael sat across from us, looking both hurt and excited at the same time.

I found it amazing how perverted high society gentlemen could be. Michael was certainly that way, with his hot wife/cuckold fantasies. But Edward and his friends were just as bad. Things were proper when their wives were around of course. At those times, I didn’t wear my wedding ring since it would have been scandalous if his high society friends knew he was dating a married woman (miraculously I never ran into anyone I knew when I was with Edward, but then, we ran in different circles).

Sometimes, though, Edward took me to his private club, where things could get wild. Edward insisted I wear my wedding ring at his club, because he wanted all his friends to know he was fucking a young married woman. He liked me to wear my most revealing dresses around his friends. But unlike Michael, he had no interest in sharing me. I guess it was a “my girl is sexier than yours” kind of thing. It went beyond showing me off. Edward openly fondled me in front of his friends. He’d inch my dress up as we danced, grinning over my shoulder to his friends as he revealed the lacy tops of my stockings. One time he even made me go down on him under the table, as he ate and drank with his friends.

I went along with all of it. I still hadn’t lost the extra weight from my pregnancy, and I’d had no luck getting a part in another show. I loved Mickey and being a mom, but my self-esteem as a woman was pretty low. Edward’s adoration of my body and looks, as well as being hit on constantly by his friends (all of whom were handsome and successful), satisfied some primal need inside me. It also kept Michael interested, although I still worried about his wandering eye for young pretty girls, especially with all the time we spent apart. Was he using my evenings and weekends with Edward as opportunities to be with younger, firmer girls? It didn’t seem that way, as he was always there when I got home, practically panting with excitement and begging me to tell him about my latest adventures with Edward. The idea of my dating another man, having a boyfriend, turned Michael on. It made him jealous too, but the jealousy fueled his excitement.

Edward was handsome, distinguished, charming and charismatic in a way that could only be gained after years as a successful businessman. I looked forward to our dates, and found myself daydreaming about him when we weren’t together. This alarmed me. I didn’t want to fall in love with him. Loving two men would be too complicated. Predictably, Michael was thrilled as he saw my relationship with Edward blossom. To him it would be the ultimate cuckold fantasy if I fell in love with Edward, and did mean things like deny Michael sex or dye my hair black because Edward wanted me to. But Michael seemed to believe my heart was big enough to love two men. I wasn’t so sure. Also, the hurt I saw in my Michael’s face as I got ready for another date with Edward bothered me, even though I knew it was part of Michael’s fantasy. So despite all the wonderful things about Edward, I started thinking about breaking it off with him.

One evening, I was at dinner with Edward and some of his friends. Edward had brought along his son Bobby, who was visiting from college. I immediately took to Bobby. He was endearingly shy and bashful, and just as handsome as his father. Bobby couldn’t keep his eyes off me, which flattered me to no end since he was a gorgeous 20 year old college junior, and I a 26 year old mother who still hadn’t lost her pregnancy weight. I was much closer in age to Bobby than Edward, and we had a lot in common in music and movies. He was as much an admirer of my legs as his father (he kept peeking under the table), and was thrilled when I told him I danced in Chicago.

Edward’s mood grew noticeably darker through the evening. I think he sensed my uncertainty about our relationship, and realized our affair was coming to an end. His bad mood was worsened by Bobby. For whatever reason, Edward acted jealous of my conversation with his son, and sent harsh words both at me and at Bobby. This left me bewildered. Michael often grew jealous, but he never got angry with me; instead, his jealousy fueled his fantasies. I wasn’t giving any reason for Edward to be jealous. I was talking and laughing with Bobby, but I wasn’t at all flirting with him. To ease the tension I stopped talking to Bobby, but I couldn’t keep Bobby from looking at my face, my chest or my legs. The more infatuated Bobby became with me, the more angry Edward became. Finally we left the restaurant and went to Edward’s place. As soon as we walked in, Edward pulled me into his arms and kissed me, right in front of Bobby. Then he roughly dragged me to his bedroom, where he fucked me harder than ever before, as if wanting to claim me for his own. His moans and grunts were loader than normal. I’m sure Bobby heard us, which Edward probably intended.

Edward fell asleep after our sex. He was drunk, which probably contributed to the way he acted. I stared into the darkness for a long time, trying to sort it all out. Not able to sleep, I pulled on Edward’s shirt (the one he had worn that evening) and went to the kitchen for a glass of water.

The door to Bobby’s bedroom was partially open. I looked in, and what I saw sent a shiver down my spine. Bobby lay naked in bed. He was broader shouldered and more muscular than his father. His eyes were closed, and he was stroking himself. My eyes grew wide at the sight of his erection. He was just as impressively long as his father, but much thicker. He had one of the largest cocks I’d ever seen. My heart quicken as I watched him play with his extraordinary manhood. As he was about to cum, he reached for something. Shocked, I saw he had my black high heels, the ones I had worn that evening. I remembered they had fallen off my feet when Edward had pulled me into his bedroom. I watched wide-eyed as Bobby ejaculated into one shoe, and then the other. His chest heaving, he fell back into the bed as my soiled high heels clattered to the floor.

Impulsively I opened the door and entered his bedroom. Bobby gawked when he saw me, his cheeks growing red at being caught. He pulled the blanket over his naked body. I wasn’t thinking, it was like I was watching myself in a dream. I walked over and stepped into the high heels. He had cum a lot, and my toes and soles were instantly wet and slippery. “Is this what you were thinking about?” I asked, walking around the room, the high heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Bobby’s eyes were on my legs and feet, and I saw an erection starting to form under the blanket.

I slowly unbuttoned Edward’s shirt, giving Bobby time to shift his gaze from my legs to my chest. Letting the expensive Ralph Lauren shirt fall from my shoulders, I felt anxious at his reaction. I wondered how he’d find my post-baby body, a year and a half removed from the perfect size 2 body I had when I danced in Chicago, especially compared to all the tight young bodies of the co-eds he went to school with. But I needn’t have worried, as he practically began salivating. He threw off the covers and pulled me on top of him. Reaching down, I guided his cock to my pussy. God he was thick. I grimaced as he entered me, but oh it felt good. He moaned as I rode him, and I quickly covered his mouth with my hands. “Shhhhh,” I said, not wanting to wake up Edward. Moving up and down on his huge shaft, I stared into his hungry eyes, feeling so bad. He looked so much like his father, the man who had been fucking me less than an hour ago.

I sensed Edward’s presence before hearing his angry voice. “What the fuck is this?!” he shouted.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” I apologized, suddenly experiencing intense feelings of regret. I knew I’d treated him terribly.

I moved to get off Bobby, but Edward pushed me back onto his son. He was more angry than I’d ever seen anyone, like a madman. “I should’ve known you’d do something like this!” he screamed. “You don’t care about me! You’re a fucking whore, all you care about is having a big cock inside you!”

Edward grabbed a belt from the floor and savagely whipped my behind, bringing tears to my eyes. “Oh god, that hurts! Stop, please stop!” I begged as he hit me over and over.

“Dad, stop! You’re hurting her!” Bobby pleaded, his hard cock still inside my pussy.

“I’m giving this slut what she deserves! She’s no better than a whore, so that’s the way she’s gonna be treated!” Suddenly Edward rammed his cock into my asshole. The pain was almost worse than the whipping. I tried pulling away, but Edward roughly pushed me down on his son’s chest, ramming his long cock deeper inside my ass. “This slut wanted to fuck father and son? Well that’s what we’ll give her, both of us at the same time!”

Despite all my promiscuity, I’d never been double penetrated before. Both Bobby and Edward were huge. I felt like I was being torn apart. Looking down at Bobby with swollen eyes, he initially looked guilty at what was being done to me, but then his body’s lustful cravings took over and he began fucking my pussy as hard as his father was fucking my asshole. Their thrusts became synchronized, one pushing in while the other pulled out. Edward’s anger transformed into desire, and the lustful moans and grunts of father and son filled the room. Gradually, the pain gave away to pleasure, my body responding to being impaled and fucked by two huge cocks. My body shuddered as the orgasm hit me, waves of pleasure exploding from my clit and shooting through every nerve of my body. Feeling me cum pushed both men over the edge and they exploded inside me, the son flooding my womb with his seed while his father filled my ass.

We lay there for long moments, their cocks still inside me as we caught our breaths and realized what we had done. Then Edward pulled out and fell onto the bed, and cried. He cried! “Get out,” he sobbed. “Just leave!”

I got off Bobby, looking at Edward and feeling terrible. I couldn’t believe this strong, powerful man was crying. “I’m so sorry,” I said feeling ashamed. I felt like shit. I gathered my things and quickly left Edward’s apartment.

Arriving home, I fell into Michael’s arms, crying. He comforted me as I told him what happen. As I explained my misgivings about continuing to see Edward (because I feared falling in love with him), and described how I seduced Bobby to sabotage my relationship with Edward and force him to throw me out, I felt him getting hard. Despite my protests – I wasn’t at all aroused, and felt terribly sore – Michael took me. As he fucked me he chanted how nasty I was, a heartbreaker, a seductress, a horny slut, a bad girl. I cried, feeling guilt, confusion, and regret as he banged away between my legs. I also felt anger at Michael for his obsession with his fantasy. He didn’t care who got hurt as long as he got what he wanted.

The next day I cried constantly, missing Edwards, and feeling terrible for hurting him. I didn’t answer when Michael called from work, still angry at him. The idea of leaving Michael and going to Edward flashed through my mind. But I still loved Michael, despite everything.

Anyway, any thought of going to Edward disappeared when I missed my next period, and the doctor confirmed I was pregnant. It had to Bobby’s baby. I always used condoms with Michael, and Edward had gotten a vasectomy years ago. Bobby was the only man to deposit fertile sperm into my womb since Anton on our honeymoon, when it didn’t matter.

Michael couldn’t keep his hands off me when he found out. I’d gotten knocked up by another man again, and it turned him on to no end. After about a month, morning sickness kicked in. It was worse than with Mickey, and all thoughts of sex disappeared. Michael was wonderful, attentive, kind and considerate. I think this pregnancy saved our marriage, because for 8 months we were a normal family, no kinky games involving me with other men. I got over Edward, and fell back in love with Michael. I had another baby boy, who we named Jeffrey.

One Comment

  1. Juergen

    This story frightens me and makes me horny as hell at the same time. The couple is so terribly kinky. I could hardly stand reading but I couldn’t stop neither. Please more. It hurts so badly.

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