The Stud Next Door By Clark
It wasn't a fire really--more like a Fourth of July sparkler, said one of the firemen. But the fried electrical circuits in the basement gave everyone in the office an early start on the weekend.
It had been years since I'd left work before 5--or 6 or 7 lately. Zipping home through the non-rush hour traffic, I had an idea how I might use this unexpected vacation. Or, rather, how Laura and I might.
Sleek and striking, Laura never fails to turn men's heads wherever we go. Early in my virginal college life, I'd fallen for the way her deep blue eyes absorbed me. She was just as inexperienced and we remained that way until we married. But the post-wedding sexual transformation I expected never happened--not on our honeymoon, not after.
Laura simply never showed much interest in sex. She was loving, definitely, and a compliant, if not assertive, partner. And, rarely, I'd see hints of passion within her. Twice I rented porn videos, and those led to a memorable nights of passion. But all my future rentals were invariably postponed by headaches or early meetings the next day or some other development. Laura was not lusty. After ten years, I'd learned to live with our once or twice a month coupling as the norm.
But that was before. Now I had no idea what the norm was. I didn't care, either. In the past few weeks, Laura had--well, turned on. I felt like she was always teasing me, even dressing to entice me. In the past, she'd weeded the garden in sweat pants and an oversized T-shirt; now she was wearing short shorts and a crop top. Last Saturday she kept me on the edge of an erection all day by cleaning the house in just panties and one of my tank tops. She'd even left her bra in the dresser--another norm broken.
Driving home I wondered what I'd find her wearing, and if she'd indulge my ideas for spending these newfound July afternoon hours before the party we had scheduled to attend. Our love-making during the past month was up to once or twice a week now, and Laura was definitely more interested. Maybe, I fantasized, today I could even find a way to bring her to orgasm. That event always eluded us. "I guess I'm just not built that way," she'd say with a shrug. Unconsciously, I massaged the insistent rising in my pants as I drove and considered the possibilities.
My cock was still dancing in my pants as I shut off the car in the driveway. I entered the house quietly, hoping to surprise Laura with both my early arrival and excited condition. I hadn't even closed the door when a groaned echoed through the back hallway, suggesting Laura's condition was way ahead of mine. It was her moan--no doubt about it--low and throaty and lost it itself.
She's masturbating! The thought electrified me. Laura claimed to have never indulged in self-pleasure. She had even seemed offended when I once suggested that her doing so might help our sex life. "Do it if you want," she'd said, "but we don't need that."
The norms had clearly changed.
I had no idea just how much
I crept down the hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of Laura's hands buried between her legs. Almost to the bedroom I heard another moan. The tone was lower, though. Much lower. Masculine.
Then, "Oh yeah, Laura. Grab my cock with your pussy."
I inched my head just beyond the doorjamb. Laura lay on the bed. Moving between her legs was not her hands, but a man. I recognized him only as young and muscular. My eyes were riveted on Laura. On her legs wrapped tightly around the man's thighs. On her feet locked behind him. On the grip that propelled his body into hers every time she thrust upward. On her thrusting. Again and again, as if her body knew no other movement. With each thrust, their flesh slapped together. The sound rang in my ears.
And all the while her arms clasped over his back, holding him as if trying to meld this man's body into her own.
Not even my wildest fantasy pictured Laura capable of such a fucking. Surely nothing in our ten years of love-making had hinted at such strength or desire. Then again, the rawest porn flick I'd ever seen didn't come close to the frenzy playing out on my bed.
I dropped against the doorway, feeling suddenly weak but unable to turn away from the rutting bodies before me. The sounds of their slapping flesh and the rising pitch of Laura's near-constant moaning enveloped me like a fog. I craned my neck to see Laura's face, to witness the burning that surely flared in her eyes, but the god-like body of her lover blocked my view. Every point of his body showed muscles; not the overworked bundles that the bodybuilders flexed at the gym. But lean, sinewy fibers. Muscles tuned to run and leap. I watched his perfect body grind into hers, his taut ass flexing as it rose and fell, his round, thinly-haired balls dancing between their legs, his rippled arms holding his weight over her, then caressing her sides.
And, always, the punishing slapping of skin against skin.
"Don't stop ... almost there ..."
"I'm with ya, baby." Their voices startled me. Laura's was thick and ragged, not at all the clear bell I knew--in bed or out. The man's voice gave no clue to his identity, although it felt familiar.
"God I love the way you fuck. I can't believe your old man ever leaves you alone."
Laura grunted against the man's thrust. "Not his fault. If Tom had what you had, I wouldn't let him leave ... oh yeah, right there.... He just doesn't have what he needs to fuck me like..." Her words disappeared another groan, which rose steadily in volume.
Her words burned in my gut. I think I'm handsome. I keep in shape. But I've always known I wasn't...well, I wasn't hung like some of the men I see in the locker room. Laura always said that didn't matter; the old "it's how you use it" line. I'd believed her because I needed to. But I also knew Laura had no basis for comparison.
Now there was no doubt how I compared. Even from my limited vantage point, I could tell Laura's lover possessed an impressive tool. Its thickness stretched her unchallenged vagina and just the shaft he exposed each time he pulled back was far longer than mine. "Oh Josh, fill me with that god-damn cock," she begged.
Josh? Who was this man whose cock had won my wife? No delivery truck sat in the driveway, no mail Jeep empty at the curb. This was obviously no *******, but who could be audacious enough to fuck my wife in my own bed. Who was he that he could inspire this passion from her?
Laura's moans climbed higher. "Please, Josh ...oh, god... make me come again."
Again? Before that idea could sink it, Laura's moans rose into a crashing wail. Her cry broke from her bed and swept away over me like a thousand wasps--each sting piercing my heart. I watched her body stiffen, her hips stab into her lover, her legs clench around his. Then he joined her wail with a tough, hard chant of "yes ... yes ... yes" marking each shot into her womb.
I hadn't so much as brushed my own cock, yet a powerful spasm swept through me. I couldn't stifle the groan, and I staggered, falling heavily against the wall behind me. Heat washed over my groin in waves. I looked down to see the spreading stain on my pants and then back to the couple climaxing in my bed.
Laura's head rose slightly over her lover's shoulder, and I knew she'd heard me. Gathering what energy I could, I fled down the hall. I thought of the car, of driving as far away as I could, but my legs collapsed when I reached the living room. I fell into the sofa.
"Oh god!" Laura's cry rolled down the hallway, just as her moans had. More sounds followed, bodies and bed clothing shifting, reassuring murmurings, footsteps and even, I was sure, of kissing. "It'll be okay," I heard the man whisper. The man named Josh.
Now I remembered. Josh, who lived next door.
Actually, Josh's parents lived next door. Josh lived at school. We met him at the Branwards' house-warming party; I hadn't seen him again until several weeks ago. Apparently home from whatever college he attended, I'd seen him sunning himself by his parents' pool. I'd commented on it to Laura--something about the wasted weekends of youth. She told me he was there most everyday.
The fact that she'd noticed him didn't surprise me. Josh was not a modest sun worshipper. Fanned out over a chaise lounge angled to face the sun that rose and fell over our house, wearing just a tight racing suit--Josh's lean, strong body gleamed beneath a coat of tanning oil. Laura told me she remembered hearing something about him being a swimmer at school, and he looked it. Last weekend he'd worn an even briefer suit, one that all but disappeared on the side and barely covered his crotch. I wondered at the time if the boy knew we could see into the pool enclosure from our house. Sitting on the curve of a cul-de-sac, our back yards are largely private. But we could still see into the Branwards' yard from parts of the back yard and from the corner window in our bedroom.
The room where he'd been fucking my wife.
The footsteps moved down the hall until Josh stood in the foyer. He wore cut- offs--just very short cut-offs--and I imagined I could see the tip of his cock just behind the frayed edge. He looked at me, not speaking, but also not seeming distressed. Suddenly self-conscious, I pulled my arm over my lap.
"Didn't mean to hurt you, dude." His voice rang in the quiet house, deep and a bit hoarse. Then I saw it, just a bit of smirk fighting to break out at the edge of his lips. "You weren't even supposed to know. Fuck, if you hadn't come him early...." He held my gaze for another moment and then let himself out.
I sat on the sofa, wondering what to do next. I felt strong enough to get out the door now. But the stain on my suit pants didn't make checking into a motel a less- humiliating option than staying where I was. I saw myself marching down the hall and demanding to know what the hell Laura thought she was doing. That idea played well in my mind, but I'd never been able to confront Laura about anything. The thought simply scared me--but not as much as my next thought, which was that Laura was about to leave me.
When I looked up, Laura stood at the edge of the room. She had slipped on the red silk robe I given her on our last anniversary, but she hadn't tied it tightly. My eyes wandered down the opening, from the swelling of her breasts, to the flat stomach I loved to run my fingers over, to the wispy cloud of hair that hid her sex. The hair was flattened now, and perhaps matted. Even against the lusty scarlet of the robe, Laura's skin appeared flushed. Her black hair hung in sweaty strands. Her lips were puffy from overwork.
"Oh god," I whispered and buried my head in my hands.
I felt Laura's fingers trail though my hair. I opened my eyes to find her kneeling before me. "I...." She pressed her lips to mine, and I returned the kiss, suddenly grateful. I had no clue what I intended to say.
She kissed me hungrily, her lips and tongue working against my own. It may have been the most passionate kiss of our marriage. When she moved her lips from mine, tears welled in my eyes. And my cock stirred.
"I love you," I whispered.
"I know." Her words were as wet and full as her kiss. "And I love you."
Another shiver ran through me. "Then, how..."
"Shssh," she breathed, her lips moving closer to my ears. "I just did."
We kissed again. Her tongue pushed into my mouth, and I surrendered to it. Then she laid her hand on my knee and started to slide it upward.
"No!" I tried to push her hand away, but I was too slow. Her fingers found the wet and sticky wool and caressed my cock through it. She ignored my shame, and so did my cock. It grew beneath her stroking.
"How long were you watching?"
"A while."
I turned my head to meet her gaze. I swam in the blue pools of her eyes as she studied me, stroking me through my wet pants.
"What did you hear?"
"I heard you moan."
"I'm sure. What else?"
"I heard you come with him."
"Yes, I did come, didn't I." She chuckled quietly. "I guess I am built that way." Her fingers gripped my cock a bit tighter, stroking its length purposefully. "What else?"
"What you said about me....''
"Tell me."
"Please..." I whimpered.
"Say it."
"That...That I could never fuck you like he did."
As I said the word "fuck," Laura grabbed my cock harder than it's ever been touched and stroked it, just once, from the base to the tip. A new shock wave roared through me. Whatever come hadn't poured into my pants the first time gushed out now. I fell back into the sofa, shaking, feeling my rib cage close around my lungs. Gentler, but still insistent, Laura's fingers milked the sperm into my pants until I had nothing left to pour out.
When I was calmer, Laura brushed her hand across my cheek, marking me with my own wetness. "What Josh does for me is what Josh does for me. I don't expect it from you. But that doesn't mean I don't love you. I do. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Laura...I mean no...I mean....Laura, I don't know what to think."
"You'll understand. I promise."
"I..."
"Shssh." Her fingers touched my nose and brushed over my lips. I caught my own scent, and tasted it. Laura kissed me again. "Would you do something for me?" she murmured.
"Anything."
Laura stood and shrugged the robe from her shoulders. The blush of excitement clung to her flesh. She stepped closer and took my head between her hands. Her right foot settled on the cushion beside me and her body leaned in until her wispy curls tickled my nose. "Lick me."
It was a request, but I could no more refuse her than I could cry out as I witnessed her adultery. My tongue reached out, cautiously, until it slipped along the swollen red labia. Laura's fingers tightened in my hair.
"Lick my wet cunt," she breathed, "then I'll teach you how to play with my clit."
My tongue dabbed at Josh's thick cum, which coated the flesh around her entrance. The taste was heavy, but not unpleasant as I expected. Laura moaned her encouragement, and I begin lapping at her like an overheated dog. Laura flexed her hips against my face, unleashing a fresh river of her lover's cum. It settled on my tongue and I drank it greedily.
Laura tightened her hold on me and steered my mouth up her enflamed lips until I reached her magic spot. I followed her directions willingly.
"Up a bit....that's it. Move your tongue in big circles...yes, like that.... Now smaller...not so fast, dammit ... just a little...yes, that's better...there...there...now harder...uh-huh....there...flick your tongue, right there...yes..."
Her hands locked my head against her pelvis, crushing my face as her hips thrust in spasms of delight. Laura's cry filled this room just as it had the bedroom when she orgasmed beneath Josh's thrusting cock. Though my face was still wet with her lover's juice, I felt a rush of pride in what my tongue had accomplished.
I nuzzled my face against her leg, massaging her thighs as her excitement drained. After a bit, she stepped back, standing naked and beautiful before me. She held the pose, allowing me to ravish her with my eyes. I knew the norms of our house had changed for good.
We dressed for the party in near silence, but I understood clearly the messages Laura sent out as she prepared herself. Her dress was sleeveless and backless and impossible to wear with a bra. "I bought it for tonight," she teased. On her legs she unrolled silk stockings, fastening them to the garter belt she'd pulled long ago from a Christmas stocking and promptly tucked in a drawer. Then, she smoothed down her dress, making sure I noted that she was not wearing panties.
"Ready," she announced, stepping into the matching heels. "Are you?"
"For almost anything," I answered, wondering just how much she'd test that reply.
I watched her closely at the otherwise dull party. Everyone else saw the same old Laura. More provocatively dressed, perhaps, and definitely pleasing to gaze upon. But she was Laura. Only I knew that beneath her dress was a uncovered pussy that I'd licked clean of her lover's sperm. Each time I saw her talking to a man, my mind reran the image of her kissing Josh's face. Each time she hugged an old friend, I saw her arms and legs wrapped around his hard naked body. And each time Laura caught my eye, she smiled as if she knew what pictures I was seeing.
By the time we fell into bed, I was starved for her. "Three in one day?" she chuckled, as she slipped my cock to slip into her inviting canal. Although aroused, she was not the moaning dynamo I'd watched from the hallway. I knew all to well why; still, I pushed each stroke into her as deeply as I could.
Laura helped me, moving against my body in ways she never had before, even as she subtly mocked my efforts. "That's right babe," she purred, "let my pussy swallow you. Slide your hard cock around inside me. Lose yourself in my pussy. Don't worry about me...just give me what you have."
As I climbed closer to my peak, Laura rolled us over and raised herself almost to a sitting position atop my cock. "How about this?" she said, and closed her eyes in concentration. Instantly her muscles flexed around my cock, tugging on it as if to milk the orgasm from me. I moaned my approval as I edged closer and closer to the brink. Without interrupting her rhythm, Laura leaned forward until her mouth lay against my ear. "Josh taught me this," she whispered. Her hot breath whipped down my spine and detonated my orgasm. I thought this one would never end. Laura laughed deep in her throat, settling onto my chest even as I humped madly against her. Her hand stroked my side as the climax drained from me and we both drifted to sleep. My last conscious feeling was of my cum dripping out of her and down my thighs. In the morning, I was covered in my own dried juice.
I tried a dozen times at breakfast to discuss the previous day's events, but each time I stumbled over my own scrambled emotions. Laura would simply smile at my fumblings, then go back to reading. Finally, I gave up.
It wasn't a fire really--more like a Fourth of July sparkler, said one of the firemen. But the fried electrical circuits in the basement gave everyone in the office an early start on the weekend.
It had been years since I'd left work before 5--or 6 or 7 lately. Zipping home through the non-rush hour traffic, I had an idea how I might use this unexpected vacation. Or, rather, how Laura and I might.
Sleek and striking, Laura never fails to turn men's heads wherever we go. Early in my virginal college life, I'd fallen for the way her deep blue eyes absorbed me. She was just as inexperienced and we remained that way until we married. But the post-wedding sexual transformation I expected never happened--not on our honeymoon, not after.
Laura simply never showed much interest in sex. She was loving, definitely, and a compliant, if not assertive, partner. And, rarely, I'd see hints of passion within her. Twice I rented porn videos, and those led to a memorable nights of passion. But all my future rentals were invariably postponed by headaches or early meetings the next day or some other development. Laura was not lusty. After ten years, I'd learned to live with our once or twice a month coupling as the norm.
But that was before. Now I had no idea what the norm was. I didn't care, either. In the past few weeks, Laura had--well, turned on. I felt like she was always teasing me, even dressing to entice me. In the past, she'd weeded the garden in sweat pants and an oversized T-shirt; now she was wearing short shorts and a crop top. Last Saturday she kept me on the edge of an erection all day by cleaning the house in just panties and one of my tank tops. She'd even left her bra in the dresser--another norm broken.
Driving home I wondered what I'd find her wearing, and if she'd indulge my ideas for spending these newfound July afternoon hours before the party we had scheduled to attend. Our love-making during the past month was up to once or twice a week now, and Laura was definitely more interested. Maybe, I fantasized, today I could even find a way to bring her to orgasm. That event always eluded us. "I guess I'm just not built that way," she'd say with a shrug. Unconsciously, I massaged the insistent rising in my pants as I drove and considered the possibilities.
My cock was still dancing in my pants as I shut off the car in the driveway. I entered the house quietly, hoping to surprise Laura with both my early arrival and excited condition. I hadn't even closed the door when a groaned echoed through the back hallway, suggesting Laura's condition was way ahead of mine. It was her moan--no doubt about it--low and throaty and lost it itself.
She's masturbating! The thought electrified me. Laura claimed to have never indulged in self-pleasure. She had even seemed offended when I once suggested that her doing so might help our sex life. "Do it if you want," she'd said, "but we don't need that."
The norms had clearly changed.
I had no idea just how much
I crept down the hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of Laura's hands buried between her legs. Almost to the bedroom I heard another moan. The tone was lower, though. Much lower. Masculine.
Then, "Oh yeah, Laura. Grab my cock with your pussy."
I inched my head just beyond the doorjamb. Laura lay on the bed. Moving between her legs was not her hands, but a man. I recognized him only as young and muscular. My eyes were riveted on Laura. On her legs wrapped tightly around the man's thighs. On her feet locked behind him. On the grip that propelled his body into hers every time she thrust upward. On her thrusting. Again and again, as if her body knew no other movement. With each thrust, their flesh slapped together. The sound rang in my ears.
And all the while her arms clasped over his back, holding him as if trying to meld this man's body into her own.
Not even my wildest fantasy pictured Laura capable of such a fucking. Surely nothing in our ten years of love-making had hinted at such strength or desire. Then again, the rawest porn flick I'd ever seen didn't come close to the frenzy playing out on my bed.
I dropped against the doorway, feeling suddenly weak but unable to turn away from the rutting bodies before me. The sounds of their slapping flesh and the rising pitch of Laura's near-constant moaning enveloped me like a fog. I craned my neck to see Laura's face, to witness the burning that surely flared in her eyes, but the god-like body of her lover blocked my view. Every point of his body showed muscles; not the overworked bundles that the bodybuilders flexed at the gym. But lean, sinewy fibers. Muscles tuned to run and leap. I watched his perfect body grind into hers, his taut ass flexing as it rose and fell, his round, thinly-haired balls dancing between their legs, his rippled arms holding his weight over her, then caressing her sides.
And, always, the punishing slapping of skin against skin.
"Don't stop ... almost there ..."
"I'm with ya, baby." Their voices startled me. Laura's was thick and ragged, not at all the clear bell I knew--in bed or out. The man's voice gave no clue to his identity, although it felt familiar.
"God I love the way you fuck. I can't believe your old man ever leaves you alone."
Laura grunted against the man's thrust. "Not his fault. If Tom had what you had, I wouldn't let him leave ... oh yeah, right there.... He just doesn't have what he needs to fuck me like..." Her words disappeared another groan, which rose steadily in volume.
Her words burned in my gut. I think I'm handsome. I keep in shape. But I've always known I wasn't...well, I wasn't hung like some of the men I see in the locker room. Laura always said that didn't matter; the old "it's how you use it" line. I'd believed her because I needed to. But I also knew Laura had no basis for comparison.
Now there was no doubt how I compared. Even from my limited vantage point, I could tell Laura's lover possessed an impressive tool. Its thickness stretched her unchallenged vagina and just the shaft he exposed each time he pulled back was far longer than mine. "Oh Josh, fill me with that god-damn cock," she begged.
Josh? Who was this man whose cock had won my wife? No delivery truck sat in the driveway, no mail Jeep empty at the curb. This was obviously no *******, but who could be audacious enough to fuck my wife in my own bed. Who was he that he could inspire this passion from her?
Laura's moans climbed higher. "Please, Josh ...oh, god... make me come again."
Again? Before that idea could sink it, Laura's moans rose into a crashing wail. Her cry broke from her bed and swept away over me like a thousand wasps--each sting piercing my heart. I watched her body stiffen, her hips stab into her lover, her legs clench around his. Then he joined her wail with a tough, hard chant of "yes ... yes ... yes" marking each shot into her womb.
I hadn't so much as brushed my own cock, yet a powerful spasm swept through me. I couldn't stifle the groan, and I staggered, falling heavily against the wall behind me. Heat washed over my groin in waves. I looked down to see the spreading stain on my pants and then back to the couple climaxing in my bed.
Laura's head rose slightly over her lover's shoulder, and I knew she'd heard me. Gathering what energy I could, I fled down the hall. I thought of the car, of driving as far away as I could, but my legs collapsed when I reached the living room. I fell into the sofa.
"Oh god!" Laura's cry rolled down the hallway, just as her moans had. More sounds followed, bodies and bed clothing shifting, reassuring murmurings, footsteps and even, I was sure, of kissing. "It'll be okay," I heard the man whisper. The man named Josh.
Now I remembered. Josh, who lived next door.
Actually, Josh's parents lived next door. Josh lived at school. We met him at the Branwards' house-warming party; I hadn't seen him again until several weeks ago. Apparently home from whatever college he attended, I'd seen him sunning himself by his parents' pool. I'd commented on it to Laura--something about the wasted weekends of youth. She told me he was there most everyday.
The fact that she'd noticed him didn't surprise me. Josh was not a modest sun worshipper. Fanned out over a chaise lounge angled to face the sun that rose and fell over our house, wearing just a tight racing suit--Josh's lean, strong body gleamed beneath a coat of tanning oil. Laura told me she remembered hearing something about him being a swimmer at school, and he looked it. Last weekend he'd worn an even briefer suit, one that all but disappeared on the side and barely covered his crotch. I wondered at the time if the boy knew we could see into the pool enclosure from our house. Sitting on the curve of a cul-de-sac, our back yards are largely private. But we could still see into the Branwards' yard from parts of the back yard and from the corner window in our bedroom.
The room where he'd been fucking my wife.
The footsteps moved down the hall until Josh stood in the foyer. He wore cut- offs--just very short cut-offs--and I imagined I could see the tip of his cock just behind the frayed edge. He looked at me, not speaking, but also not seeming distressed. Suddenly self-conscious, I pulled my arm over my lap.
"Didn't mean to hurt you, dude." His voice rang in the quiet house, deep and a bit hoarse. Then I saw it, just a bit of smirk fighting to break out at the edge of his lips. "You weren't even supposed to know. Fuck, if you hadn't come him early...." He held my gaze for another moment and then let himself out.
I sat on the sofa, wondering what to do next. I felt strong enough to get out the door now. But the stain on my suit pants didn't make checking into a motel a less- humiliating option than staying where I was. I saw myself marching down the hall and demanding to know what the hell Laura thought she was doing. That idea played well in my mind, but I'd never been able to confront Laura about anything. The thought simply scared me--but not as much as my next thought, which was that Laura was about to leave me.
When I looked up, Laura stood at the edge of the room. She had slipped on the red silk robe I given her on our last anniversary, but she hadn't tied it tightly. My eyes wandered down the opening, from the swelling of her breasts, to the flat stomach I loved to run my fingers over, to the wispy cloud of hair that hid her sex. The hair was flattened now, and perhaps matted. Even against the lusty scarlet of the robe, Laura's skin appeared flushed. Her black hair hung in sweaty strands. Her lips were puffy from overwork.
"Oh god," I whispered and buried my head in my hands.
I felt Laura's fingers trail though my hair. I opened my eyes to find her kneeling before me. "I...." She pressed her lips to mine, and I returned the kiss, suddenly grateful. I had no clue what I intended to say.
She kissed me hungrily, her lips and tongue working against my own. It may have been the most passionate kiss of our marriage. When she moved her lips from mine, tears welled in my eyes. And my cock stirred.
"I love you," I whispered.
"I know." Her words were as wet and full as her kiss. "And I love you."
Another shiver ran through me. "Then, how..."
"Shssh," she breathed, her lips moving closer to my ears. "I just did."
We kissed again. Her tongue pushed into my mouth, and I surrendered to it. Then she laid her hand on my knee and started to slide it upward.
"No!" I tried to push her hand away, but I was too slow. Her fingers found the wet and sticky wool and caressed my cock through it. She ignored my shame, and so did my cock. It grew beneath her stroking.
"How long were you watching?"
"A while."
I turned my head to meet her gaze. I swam in the blue pools of her eyes as she studied me, stroking me through my wet pants.
"What did you hear?"
"I heard you moan."
"I'm sure. What else?"
"I heard you come with him."
"Yes, I did come, didn't I." She chuckled quietly. "I guess I am built that way." Her fingers gripped my cock a bit tighter, stroking its length purposefully. "What else?"
"What you said about me....''
"Tell me."
"Please..." I whimpered.
"Say it."
"That...That I could never fuck you like he did."
As I said the word "fuck," Laura grabbed my cock harder than it's ever been touched and stroked it, just once, from the base to the tip. A new shock wave roared through me. Whatever come hadn't poured into my pants the first time gushed out now. I fell back into the sofa, shaking, feeling my rib cage close around my lungs. Gentler, but still insistent, Laura's fingers milked the sperm into my pants until I had nothing left to pour out.
When I was calmer, Laura brushed her hand across my cheek, marking me with my own wetness. "What Josh does for me is what Josh does for me. I don't expect it from you. But that doesn't mean I don't love you. I do. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Laura...I mean no...I mean....Laura, I don't know what to think."
"You'll understand. I promise."
"I..."
"Shssh." Her fingers touched my nose and brushed over my lips. I caught my own scent, and tasted it. Laura kissed me again. "Would you do something for me?" she murmured.
"Anything."
Laura stood and shrugged the robe from her shoulders. The blush of excitement clung to her flesh. She stepped closer and took my head between her hands. Her right foot settled on the cushion beside me and her body leaned in until her wispy curls tickled my nose. "Lick me."
It was a request, but I could no more refuse her than I could cry out as I witnessed her adultery. My tongue reached out, cautiously, until it slipped along the swollen red labia. Laura's fingers tightened in my hair.
"Lick my wet cunt," she breathed, "then I'll teach you how to play with my clit."
My tongue dabbed at Josh's thick cum, which coated the flesh around her entrance. The taste was heavy, but not unpleasant as I expected. Laura moaned her encouragement, and I begin lapping at her like an overheated dog. Laura flexed her hips against my face, unleashing a fresh river of her lover's cum. It settled on my tongue and I drank it greedily.
Laura tightened her hold on me and steered my mouth up her enflamed lips until I reached her magic spot. I followed her directions willingly.
"Up a bit....that's it. Move your tongue in big circles...yes, like that.... Now smaller...not so fast, dammit ... just a little...yes, that's better...there...there...now harder...uh-huh....there...flick your tongue, right there...yes..."
Her hands locked my head against her pelvis, crushing my face as her hips thrust in spasms of delight. Laura's cry filled this room just as it had the bedroom when she orgasmed beneath Josh's thrusting cock. Though my face was still wet with her lover's juice, I felt a rush of pride in what my tongue had accomplished.
I nuzzled my face against her leg, massaging her thighs as her excitement drained. After a bit, she stepped back, standing naked and beautiful before me. She held the pose, allowing me to ravish her with my eyes. I knew the norms of our house had changed for good.
We dressed for the party in near silence, but I understood clearly the messages Laura sent out as she prepared herself. Her dress was sleeveless and backless and impossible to wear with a bra. "I bought it for tonight," she teased. On her legs she unrolled silk stockings, fastening them to the garter belt she'd pulled long ago from a Christmas stocking and promptly tucked in a drawer. Then, she smoothed down her dress, making sure I noted that she was not wearing panties.
"Ready," she announced, stepping into the matching heels. "Are you?"
"For almost anything," I answered, wondering just how much she'd test that reply.
I watched her closely at the otherwise dull party. Everyone else saw the same old Laura. More provocatively dressed, perhaps, and definitely pleasing to gaze upon. But she was Laura. Only I knew that beneath her dress was a uncovered pussy that I'd licked clean of her lover's sperm. Each time I saw her talking to a man, my mind reran the image of her kissing Josh's face. Each time she hugged an old friend, I saw her arms and legs wrapped around his hard naked body. And each time Laura caught my eye, she smiled as if she knew what pictures I was seeing.
By the time we fell into bed, I was starved for her. "Three in one day?" she chuckled, as she slipped my cock to slip into her inviting canal. Although aroused, she was not the moaning dynamo I'd watched from the hallway. I knew all to well why; still, I pushed each stroke into her as deeply as I could.
Laura helped me, moving against my body in ways she never had before, even as she subtly mocked my efforts. "That's right babe," she purred, "let my pussy swallow you. Slide your hard cock around inside me. Lose yourself in my pussy. Don't worry about me...just give me what you have."
As I climbed closer to my peak, Laura rolled us over and raised herself almost to a sitting position atop my cock. "How about this?" she said, and closed her eyes in concentration. Instantly her muscles flexed around my cock, tugging on it as if to milk the orgasm from me. I moaned my approval as I edged closer and closer to the brink. Without interrupting her rhythm, Laura leaned forward until her mouth lay against my ear. "Josh taught me this," she whispered. Her hot breath whipped down my spine and detonated my orgasm. I thought this one would never end. Laura laughed deep in her throat, settling onto my chest even as I humped madly against her. Her hand stroked my side as the climax drained from me and we both drifted to sleep. My last conscious feeling was of my cum dripping out of her and down my thighs. In the morning, I was covered in my own dried juice.
I tried a dozen times at breakfast to discuss the previous day's events, but each time I stumbled over my own scrambled emotions. Laura would simply smile at my fumblings, then go back to reading. Finally, I gave up.