A cuckold story
My husband is asleep in the bedroom but he hasn’t fucked me, yet again. He’s “stressed”, “busy with work”, “burnt out” and all the other excuses he gives that don’t help the issue… I’m sexually frustrated and can’t sleep.
He cooked me dinner earlier this evening, a fancy Italian pasta dish that he served with a smooth, buttery Chardonnay. It was delicious. I enjoyed his company as we talked about our days, but before long, Johnathan was yawning.
I leaned towards him, flirtatiously offering my cleavage, stroking his thigh, but he was numb to it, barely bothering to stifle his constant stream of yawns.
We went to bed, and when he began to snore, I slipped out of bed to run a bath.
I love Johnathan, but c’mon man. A girl’s got needs.
As the tub fills with water, I light a lavender-scented candle and think about our marriage. Johnathan and I have been together for five years now. In the beginning, sex was pretty good, but it was never great. Back then I thought it didn’t matter, that the point was to find a man who treated me well — which Johnathan did — still does — in almost every way.
I turn off the faucet and step in, lowering myself into the water, feeling the hot liquid caress me, creeping up my body and touching all my secret places. My muscles relax and I breathe deeply for the first time in days.
Johnathan and I haven’t had sex in several weeks now — and I haven’t seen my lover in what feels like years, but has only been a few days.
Yes, Johnathan knows about my lover, Mark. He knows that on Tuesdays I go see him after work before coming home. He knows that when he’s out of town, Mark comes to stay. I’ve told him that much.
I don’t describe to Johnathan the way Mark makes my body weak, my pussy throb. He doesn’t know the way Mark looks at me hard in the eyes as he enters me. He doesn’t know how he moves inside me, breathing as I breath, feeling the very texture of my soul through my skin.
It’s been too long. Tuesday isn’t for another three days and Johnathan hasn’t had a business trip in ages. My hand slides between my legs as I think of Mark, of the last time we were together, the way he filled me, moved with me, making my body melt into a puddle of orgasmic bliss. He must know how badly I need him. I wonder if he’s thinking of me now as I’m thinking of him.
My hand circles my clit and I feel a liquid more slippery than bathwater emerge from my opening. I try to keep my breath quiet. Though I know Johnathan sleeps heavily, I can’t help but worry that he’ll hear me and come to investigate.
My body undulates beneath the water, and my hips rise up into the air, allowing for my hand to move more quickly.
Just as I bring myself to orgasm, I hear the back door open.
I freeze, terrified, even as the orgasm continues rippling through my body. Then I hear Mark’s voice call in a loud whisper, “Baby?”
I can’t quite believe it. I’d been thinking so hard of Mark that I wonder if I’m just hearing things, but then I hear him again. It’s almost like I summoned him.
I get out of the tub quickly, wrapping myself in a towel, and open the bathroom door.
There he is, his black eyes and curly brown hair. I don’t say a word, but simply wrap myself around him, melt into his arms. His clothing is cool from the autumn night air, but I am warm and relaxed from the tub. I can give him my warmth.
“I needed you,” he whispers. “I couldn’t stay away.”
“Me too,” I said. “But Johnathan is home…”
“I know. We don’t have to do anything. I just needed to see you.”
He pulls away just enough to look into my eyes, and my lips are pulled towards his by a gravitational force too strong to fight. We kiss and everything begins to disappear: the kitchen with my husband and my dinner dishes in the sink, the city lights streaming in through the window, and even my keen awareness of Johnathan, sleeping soundly in the bedroom, clueless to the fact that his wife is naked but for a towel, and wrapped in the arms of her lover, just a room over.
I kiss him and keep kissing him, his lips too delicious to keep mine away from. I place my hand on his jeans and feel his cock, rock hard. I tug at his shirt suggestively, wanting so desperately to fuck him, that need blinding me to everything else.
“Baby…” Mark murmurs, pulling away slightly.
“Don’t tease me,” I beg. “Why did you come if…”
“I just wanted to see you, to kiss you…”
I begin kissing his neck as I massage his cock which presses hard through his jeans. I slide my hands down the skin of his belly, past the waistband until I reach his flesh, stretched tightly in a massive erection. I wrap my warm fingers around it.
His body visibly weakens.
“Maybe you thought all you wanted was a kiss,” I whisper, continuing to kiss his neck, “but it’s pretty clear to me now that you want a little bit more than that.”
He kisses my lips again; this time, his mouth is wet and he seems desperate to pull energy from my lips.
Still kissing, I back towards the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
“Shhh…” I say as I unbuckle his pants.
The bathroom is warm and steamy from the still-full tub, and smells like lavender. I grip his cock and begin massaging it. He pulls my towel off with no uncertainty and with a firm and decisive grip on my hips, he turns me around so my back is to him.
He touches my clit until I can’t stand it. I catch my face in the mirror, cheeks flushed, lips red and full, mouth open. I see him behind me, his lips buried into my neck, biting me gently. I shiver in anticipation and lean over, offering myself to him. I hold the edge of the sink and wait for him to enter me.
He doesn’t. He always makes me wait until I’m desperate for it, until we both are. He keeps touching me, bringing me dangerously close to orgasm, but I want to wait for him to be inside me first.
I press my ass into his cock and move against it, tempting him. He finally bends his knees slightly and I feel it slide down my ass-cheek and then enter me.
He fills me slowly, gently, focusing our desperate energy into a controlled intensity. I feel and hear his breath and find myself automatically matching it. Even as I want to shout out, even as I want to thrust my ass into his body hard and fast, I allow him to control the speed, and me, surrendering.
I continue to breathe with the motion of our movements, pulling air inside my liquid body.
“I’m going to come,” I whisper, but he makes me wait again, stops moving, holds himself inside me.
“Come here,” he says, and pulls me so he’s sitting on the edge of the tub, me on his lap. His hand reaches around and begins playing with my clit again as I press into him, moving him in circles inside of me, lifting and lowering myself slowly and with intention… the intention to feel him as fully as possible.
I know that my pleasure becomes his, because that’s the way our love is.
“I can’t wait…” I breathe, arching backwards into his chest. I feel my vagina begin to tighten around him. “Come with me baby, come with me.”
His movement changes ever so slightly as he allows himself to move past his threshold. He moves into me with certainty, and then pulls out of me so that he can enter me again. My orgasm builds along with his, and I feel the beginnings of the throbbing, pulsating release.
“Wait baby,” he murmurs into my ear, knowing how much I want him to join me.
I breathe slowly and hold on until I feel him throb. He cries out, not loud, but loud enough…
As he comes, releasing himself inside of me, I allow myself to let go, moaning and trying my best to stifle my screams.
But I haven’t heard the footsteps in the hallway…
To be continued…
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