("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2008. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Don't Ask, Don't Tell by Myndstorm (myndstorm5@gmx.com) *** Steve's wife tells her friends that he can really fuck. Then when his wife goes out of town, her friends each arrange their time to find out. (MF, cheat, intr) *** I can tell there will be trouble when it first starts. Here is my second wife, huddled in the den with her older girlfriends on a rainy Friday night, sipping wine and chatting. And as with most chats, it turns to one thing: sex, or rather the lack of it thereof. Now, this is my wife Cheryl's first marriage, and there are some things she doesn't know that I should've already hipped her to. There are things you talk about with your girlfriends and things you don't. But before I get too far, let me describe my winsome wife. Cheryl, 35, is 5'4", four inches shorter than me. She has smooth, caramel skin than makes me want to taste every inch of her often. Her C-cup melons, with their thick, peg-like chocolate nipples, get the lion's share of attention from my soft lips, especially since she loves to thrust them in my face when she's riding me. She's got a bit of a tummy, but her sweet, wide, 38" hips with accompanying juicy thighs more than makes up for it. The way her big ass quivers when I fuck her from behind has me gritting my teeth and trying to do trigonometry in my head, all in an attempt to hold off cumming until her frothy pussy squeezes my cock rhythmically in orgasm. But Cheryl's most potent weapons are her almond-shaped, hazel eyes that hypnotize me at any given moment, and her plush, pink lips. Hell, kissing my wife as we do for hours on end is almost better than sex. Almost. Her friend, Marie, 38, is almost a pixie. With her red hair, green eyes, and 5-foot-even stature, she can't be more than 98 pounds soaking wet. Her chest is pretty much non-existent, but her nipples seem to be always hard and poking through anything she wears. Her cute, heart-shaped ass is the most prominent thing on her body—not that I notice these things, mind you. Andi, her girlfriend from down the street, is the tallest, standing 5'11". She has long, lean legs, showing some muscle definition, very slender hips, and a flat tummy. You'd almost think she was a boy, except for the fat, D-cup tits thrusting high and proud on her chest. At 40 years of age, you'd think they'd have a hint of sag to them, but no. It leads me to question if they're really hers or not, but damn, they fucking look good anyway. With her sandy-blond, shoulder-length hair, and her dazzling blue eyes, she's the quintessential MILF of the group. Cheryl's third friend, Trixie, 39, is the bona fide BBW. She's 5'5" and must weigh near the 200's. But strangely enough, she's a sexy package, sporting a pair of huge, mahogany DD's? F's? (I'd love to take a peek at that bra size.) Her waist is relatively small before flaring out to an outlandishly-wide ass. Trixie looks like an exaggerated hourglass, but she carries and dresses it well. And she knows how to flaunt it, using her big, brown eyes, cute button nose, and winning smile to flirt heavily. I don't know how her husband, Theo, puts up with it. So anyway, it's a Friday night, right, raining cats and dogs outside in mid-April, and I'm planted in front of our big-screen plasma TV in the living room watching some action flick on our fiberoptic connection. And the women are laughing, drinking, and talking. Then their voices get low. I know they're chatting about something they don't want me to hear. Suddenly, Andi says in that brassy voice of hers, "I don't see what's the big deal about sex, anyway." There is a moment in which there is absolute silence. That, right then, is when I should've jumped up, grabbed Cheryl, pulled her into the kitchen out of earshot, and told her the Golden Rule. But hey, a guy hears an attractive woman (not that I notice these things, anyway) utter that magic word—SEX—and strange things happen. I got rooted to my plush Barca-lounger. My dark dong surged to half-hardness in my relaxed-fit jeans. I swallowed a lump in my throat as my thumb gently pressed the down-volume button on my ever- present remote. I guess they were waiting to see if I responded in some way. Once satisfied that I was too wrapped up in my movie to have given them another thought, they continued. "Well, it's true," Andi says, this time a little quieter. "Sex is no big deal to me. Al comes to bed, slobbers all over my boobs for a few minutes, then sticks it in. It's just starting to feel good when he pops, rolls over and goes to sleep." Al's my golfing buddy. Big, strapping guy, over six feet, was a defensive lineman in college. He's balding now and has a paunch, but still has a lot of that college muscle left over underneath. He always gives me the impression he'd rather watch ESPN Sports-Center than get it on hot and heavy under the sheets. Still, I hate hearing about it this way. My dick starts to soften a little. Marie is the shy type, so I'm surprised when she pipes up. "Is he, you know, big down there?" Andi chuckles. "He's okay, I guess," she replies. "I still like the feel of it, if only he'd go a little longer." She sighs. "I wish Johnny had one his size, then," Marie says. "Johnny's is huge." Another pause. "HOW huge?" Trixie asks. I can almost hear the calculating in her head. "I measured him once when we first started... um... you know... he's, like, 9 ½ inches," Marie says. "And it hurts so much when he shoves it in. When he takes his time and makes sure I'm good and we—umm, ready, it can be really good. But most of the time he just drives it home, and I feel like he's ripping me apart. Maybe I could get used to it if we did it more often, but..." I winced involuntarily, thinking about a wee frame like Marie's taking on a monster prick like Johnny's. Johnny's a dark-haired, rail-thin car mechanic with his own garage over on Maple Street. Sometimes I hang out with him while he's working on my ride. He brags about having a big one all the time, and I guess he's right. But lots of big-dicked men think that's all they need to please a woman, and use it like a battering ram instead. They forget about using their fingers, lips, tongue and teeth to get a woman primed before working their big muscles inside. "Well, at least y'all men can get it up," says Trixie with a huff. "Theo talks a big game, but when it's showtime, he's limp as a noodle." "There's a little blue pill that can fix that right up, you know," replies Andi. "I know that, you know that, errybody and their fuckin' MOTHER knows that," Trixie answers, agitated. "But Theo don't want no doctor tellin' him he's got that erectile dysfunction crap. Won't even think of goin'." She takes a long sip of wine, draining the glass. "But I bet he can get it up fo' his fuckin' big ass secretary, though. Fuckin' office slut..." I didn't know much about Theo. We're cordial acquaintances at best. He's an investment banker downtown, and we ride the same commuter train. His girth matches Trixie's, although he's taller by a few inches, and it's conceivable that his weight, plus his high-stress job, makes it tough for him to rise to the occasion. It's quiet for a minute and I still have time to retrieve my naïve wife. I start to rise to my feet, when her voice sounds out. "Well, I love sex," Cheryl begins, "and Steve does me just right. He's not too big, not too small, and he takes his time getting me nice and dripping wet before he mounts me. And when he's in there, OOooohhh muh GOD! He moves his hips like he's trying to churn butter inside me. And I guess he does, because I cum so hard that I see stars. He's always ready to go, too, like a little Energizer Bunny. But I make sure he gets enough." I'm sure Marie is blushing from head to toe, now. Andi coughs, and Trixie says, "Dammnnnn!" The spell keeping my feet stuck to the hardwood flooring finally breaks. I take the few steps necessary to reach the den. The wine bottles are empty, and the women are all glassy-eyed. Cheryl's words really got to them. Time to send them home. "Cheryl, don't you have an appointment at eight tomorrow morning?" I say. "Maybe we should get to bed now." Trixie and Andi laugh loudly. Marie grows more red- faced. "Yeah, you heard yo' man, Cher," says Trixie. "It's time fo' bed right NOW, baby!" It's my turn to blush as they gather up their purses and keys and make it out the front door to their cars. We wave as they pull off. Then I feel a hand cupping my left asscheek through my jeans. "You heard Trixie," whispers Cheryl, nibbling on my earlobe. "It's time for bed, baby." She turns and switches her jiggling hips up the stairs. Well, shit, I'm hot as a firecracker myself after hearing all that. Let me tell you a little about myself, now. I'm no Denzel, or even a Samuel L. I'm a nice-looking guy, but rarely do I get a woman doing a double-take when I'm walking in public. My build was lean and muscular when I was in the Army some twenty years ago, but now I have a spare tire around my middle. My skin tone is smooth chocolate; my eyes are light brown, and my lips are very soft. Since I started going bald eight years ago, I've kept my head shaved. I'm the kind of man who has to rely on his intelligence, wit, and charm to get a woman interested. And once she's in bed with me, I make sure she stays interested, because then I can set loose my prick on her. It's an unusual one: it's uncircumcised, the length is just shy of the traditional "AOL 8", but the shaft is very thick and it's capped with a fat, mushroom shaped head. All of my past partners say it's the head that forces them wide open, rubs against their G-spots, and allows my cock to nudge up against their cervixes, filling them to the brim. But I also use my fingers and tongue to good advantage. That's how I hooked Cheryl after our initial courtship online eight years ago. When I reach the bedroom, Cheryl's just shimmying out of her lace panties. She saunters over to me, naked, wrapping her arms tenderly around my neck. As her lips draw close, the scent of alcohol is strong. Her kiss begins soft, but builds to an incendiary level. Her body presses up against me, molding to my contours. I like this; I call it her "melty kiss." My thickening dick starts to crowd the crotch of my jeans. "So," Cheryl says, her eyes hooded, "how much of that did you hear?" I kiss her left cheek before trailing more down her slender neck to her sensitive collarbone. "Hear what?" I reply huskily. Damn, she feels so good in my arms. She moans as my lips suckle that special spot, the one that I know raises goose bumps on her shoulders. "You know," she breathes, "what the girls and I were talking about." My left hand moves from the small of her back and smoothes over her right ass-cheek. I squeeze and pull her tighter against me as my right hand roams up her torso to cup her tit, her chocolate nipple already stiffening in my palm. "Yeah, I heard it all," I answer, my lips once again covering hers, gently sucking on her sweet bottom lip. "But honey, maybe you shouldn't have told them about our sex life." She pulls back a little to lift my t-shirt up and off me. Then she leans forward to softly bite my left nipple as her hands begin to unbuckle my belt. "Why not?" she asks. "I thought you'd puff out your chest a little hearing about how good you treat me." "I'll admit, that was nice," I say as she finishes unsnapping and unzipping my jeans and yanks them down with my underwear. My rock-hard boner bounces up and just about smacks her on the chin in its rush to point skyward. Now in a crouch at face-level to it, Cheryl rubs her face on the underside of my fat chocolate shaft, letting it roll from one cheek, over the ridge of her nose, to the other cheek, getting all of my musky scent on her. Damn, she spoils me with this shit. "MMmmmMmmm," she moans, taking a moment to pull back the foreskin and deliver a sucking kiss at the spot where the shaft meets my bloated, dark-red head, watching me involuntarily twitch. "Baby, you know I want to just eat you up, get you all down my throat, but I'm SOOOO horny right now, so..." She stands up, takes me by my shoulders and pushes me toward the bed. My jeans are still gathered around my ankles, so I end up stumbling toward the bed, twisting so that I land on my back, my feet still in contact with the floor. Cheryl then swiftly straddles my torso while grasping my throbbing cock and aiming it at her warm, slick slit. Fuck, she's already so wet! I manage to snap my hips up. My mushroom cap almost parts her outer lips, but she rises up quickly, denying me blissful penetration. "You beast," she says, grinning widely. She catches my wrists and pins them over my head. "This is MY show tonight." And with that, she begins an inexorably-slow corkscrewing of her hips. My cock-head disappears inside her; we both gasp as she continues her journey, taking three minutes to finally seat herself completely on my cock. She rocks back and forth some, making sure I'm sealed to her cervix nice and tight. I have no complaints. Like she said before, I'm just the right size. Every inch of my dick is covered with hot, frothy pussy, with nothing left out. You can't beat that. But I'm not helpless in this position. I flex my kegels, making my cock jump several times inside her. She coos as she feels the pulses ripple through her clasping sugar-walls. Then she lifts up until only the very tip of my head is within her. Her thick cream cools around my exposed shaft. Rotating her ass, she dips and rises, letting my tip play around her tight, muscular opening. She sinks on me again, grinding our pelvises together as I hit bottom. I grunt as I'm jammed up against her back wall once more. "OOohhhhHHH, h-honey, oooOOoHHH, Steve," she moans as she begins to post on me, harder and faster. "I—love— your—FUCKING—DICK!" she says, punctuating each word with a plunge onto my throbbing prick. "But, uuNNggHH, will you respect me in the m-morning?" I groan as I snap my hips up on her downstroke, making her shudder as we collide over and over. "Shut up, you," Cheryl gasps. "Here, play with these for awhile." She leans forward until her caramel tits are mashed all over my face, making it difficult to breath. I snare a nipple in my mouth and suck firmly, my tongue flicking the tip. Her pussy lubricates even more at this, her frothy cream bubbling out around my fuck-stick to coat my heavy balls. That's when I hear her pussy give out a little squelch, a little pop of her juices around my cock. It's an indication that my wife is getting close to cumming. I yank my wrists free from her grip, place my hands firmly around her waist, and begin bucking up in earnest, driving my dick deep into her quivering box. She sits bolt upright, her hands on my soft belly, shifting all her weight down on my pelvis, absorbing every thrust. "F-fucking b-bastard," she hisses, her wide ass jiggling as she takes my pounding. "I-I'm supposed to b-be in control...oh fuck oh fuck ooHHH FUCK I'M GOING TO CUUMM—" Cheryl screams as she hits her peak, her head thrown back as the orgasm wracks her body. Her creaming quim is squeezing and rippling all over my dark dick, trying to coax the white-hot lava out of my straining balls. Normally, I'd hold off, because my wife is good for at least two or three cums in a session. But it's late, she's half-drunk and I'm tired, so I dig my fingers into her soft ass-cheeks and let go, firing volley after volley of my seed deep inside her. My back arches as the pleasure of my pulsing prick runs up and down my spine, making my toes curl inside my Starburys. Cheryl pants in my ear as we both come down from our mutual explosion. The room comes into focus again, and I caress her back as we cuddle and kiss, our commingled juices seeping out of her twitching slot as my dick softens and finally slips out, curling wetly onto my balls. "UMMmmmmm," my wife murmurs as she peppers my face with light kisses. "Just what I needed, honey, all of that girl-talk had me so fucking wound up." She sighs and lays her head on my chest. "Now what were you saying before?" "Well," I begin as I stroke her chestnut-colored braids, "you should never tell your girlfriends that your husband can really fuck, especially if their sex lives are all messed up. They start getting curious and shit; they want to find out for themselves if it's really true or not." Cheryl plucks absently at my right nipple. "C'mon, Steve, these are my friends, my very best friends," she emphasizes. "They would never even THINK of coming on to you." A yawn. "And even if they did, you'd never do anything with them, right?" "Of course not, honey!" I sputter, almost too quickly. "I'm just saying...just saying you should be careful of what you tell them. Okay?" The only reply is light snoring. The combined effect of wine and sex has knocked Cheryl out on top of me. It takes me a few minutes to maneuver her limp form onto the bed and under the comforter. I stroke her cheek for a while, watching her sleep blissfully. I give her a peck on the tip of her nose, and then I join her in slumber. By the time my eyes open the next morning, Cheryl is gone, off to her morning appointment, no doubt. She's always been an early riser, given she's ten years younger than me. I gaze up at the ceiling, thinking about the night before, and I have to chuckle a little. Who am I kidding? Here I am, forty-five years old, and five years short of an AARP membership. My stomach is bigger than my chest. And whenever Cheryl's girlfriends see me, I'm dressed in baggy, bummy-yet-comfortable clothes. I'm no Wesley Snipes. Why in the world would they want me? I figure I'm pretty safe from any advances. But then again, isn't that why this is my second marriage? You see, for a married man, it isn't hard to trip and fall dick-first into some strange pussy. Your wife's friends, or your sister-in-law's friends, make themselves available if a woman is not careful. My first wife took a picture of me naked, with my cock waving at full staff. She carried it around in her purse for awhile and, one day when she was at lunch with her friends, her purse spilled out. There I was on display in all my glory, with four pair of female eyes devouring every inch of that photo. Well, sure enough, her friends starting acting funny around me, trying to get me to notice this or that on them. I told my first wife what was going on, but she thought I was being vain and turned a deaf ear to it all. It didn't happen right away. A couple of years went by, and suddenly my wife and I weren't so cuddly anymore. Our sex life pretty much dropped off a cliff. She had headaches or cramps most of the time. In fact, it became a running joke in our close circle of friends of how little I was getting. Strangely enough, it wasn't that funny to me. That's when her friends turned up the heat. They'd come by when my wife was out of town, or they'd have me come over to their place to fix their computer (I'm an IT professional, you see, so everyone thinks I can fix ANY computer problem—as if). Much skin would be exposed, many opportunities would be given--and many cold showers would be taken. I beat off so much I was getting calluses on my left hand. But still, I resisted. Until the very furious—and very voluptuous--April Jennings had a knock-down, drag-out fight with her husband one night. She rushed over to our house and consoled herself in the arms of Loralee, my first wife. Then Loralee let her spend the night. Then... well, I dipped into April's good stuff. Let's face it; at that point I hadn't had pussy in four months. Thoughts of resistance went right the fuck out the window when April came on to me. But that's another story. (Read "April Showers".) Anyway, I've learned my lesson from those days. Cheryl and I have a vibrant sex life. Our libidos match, and our tastes, although adventurous, are limited to the two of us. I can't ever foresee a time in which we could be tempted by the advances of others. But later that day, after we've both arrived home from work, Cheryl receives a phone call that threatens to change all of that. In fact, in less than a minute and a half, the phone drops to the floor with a loud clatter--and my usually cheery wife rushes into my arms, sobbing loudly. "Hey, heeeyyy!" I say, wrapping her tight as her body heaves with her cries. "What's going on? What was that call all about?" It's minutes before she's composed enough to answer. "M-my m-mother... s-she--she's..." I gulped. "She's?" That's when she looks up at me with those hypnotic hazel eyes. I know then that whatever she needs, I will be there for her. "She's had a stroke. She's in critical condition. I need to go, Steve. I need to go right now." I took her by the shoulders. "Honey, breathe deeply, alright?" I say. "We need to get some more details before you rush off." So I sit her down, in my Barcalounger, no less, and I retrieve the phone from where she dropped it. Her older brother, Claude, is on the other end. We talk, and I get the full scoop. Andrea, their mother, did indeed have a stroke just a few hours earlier. She was discovered by a "Meals on Wheels" volunteer, and she was rushed to the hospital. Her left side suffered partial paralysis, but the doctors say that she's likely to make a full recovery. But she'll need care 24/7 for the next three months in order to do it. Both Cheryl and Claude live two states away from their mother. Although Claude can take a week or so of vacation, he won't be able to look after her for three months. This is where Cheryl comes in; she doesn't work, so she can help her mom for the full term. "But, Steve," she says an hour later as I'm in the den, purchasing last-minute airline tickets and setting up a rental car for her. "We've never been apart for more than a few days. How're we going to manage three months?" It's a valid question. I pull her into my lap, as the white terry cloth robe she's wearing falls partially open, revealing a slice of the soft, caramel curves beneath. Reaching up, I tilt her chin downward and I kiss her deeply. She melts into me in that way I love. Her chocolate nipple stiffens and pokes me in the chest. "It's not like you're going off to war," I say, swirling my fingertip around the hard nub. My other hand reaches back to palm her tail through the robe. Cheryl squirms a bit until she gets the response she's looking for: my dark dick thickening and pressing itself into her deep asscleft. "Three months will be over before you know it." I lean in to suckle the quivering tit. My hand slides down her soft torso; her thighs part as two of my fingers twist inside her moistening pussy. She wraps her arms around my head, pulling me into her bosom as she shudders. "Fuuuucccckkkk," she gasps as my digits saw in and out of her. "See, h-how am I g-going to l- live without--uuunnGHH--without TTHHIIISSSS--AAAHHH!!!" Cheryl's copious cream coats my fingers and drips onto the crotch of my pajama bottoms. She's still recovering from her sweet cum when she reaches into my jammies, pulls out my fat black prong, and sits on it. She sinks all the way down as I lick her sweaty cleavage, her heaving tits hugging my ears as we embrace. "Yeeeaaahhhh," my wife hisses as she rocks her hips, bumping the large marble of her clit against my pelvis. "Your dick, your dick, your big fucking DICK," she moans as I hunch up into her, cupping her ass and pulling her firmly into each thrust. "UuuNNggHH," I grunt as my mushroom-like cockhead kisses her cervix. Her clasping pussy holds me deep, pulsing around me as I twist my hips, wringing out some interesting sensations from the both of us. Her pussy gives that wet popping sound, and her nails dig into my back through my shirt. "W-who's g-going to F-FUCK ME like this, baby," Cheryl groans as she bounces on my turgid prod. "Ssshhhiiiitttt... oooOOOOHhh holy fuckin' SHIT I'm CUUUUMMMIIIG!" She explodes, her body jerking about as if she's being electrocuted. I slurp at her left nipple, knowing how much it intensifies her orgasm. Her snatch squeezes my dick so tight, I'm afraid she'll break it off at the base. But I don't cum. This is one of those times that it's not about me. I hold her close, soothing her as she comes down off her high, my hips rotating slowly, causing my prick to make lazy circles inside her. Finally her breathing slows to normal and her eyes refocus. She slowly rises off me, my hard dong wetly sliding free of her frothy box. Bending at the waist, she gives the tip of my cock a sucking kiss. She smacks her lips, savoring the taste, then she opens her mouth wide and swallows me down, her tongue swirling all over my shaft, lapping up her pussy cream. "Ohhh YYEEESSSS honey!" I shout as she devours my dick. My cock-head clogs the entrance to her throat as my waist moves of its own accord, twitching to and fro as her cheeks hollow out. I cradle her head in my hands as she concentrates on that magic spot on the underside of my rod, where the head meets the shaft. The tip of her tongue rapidly flicks it, making me hop around in my seat. "FUUCCKK Cheryl, that's it right there that's it THAT'S THE FUCKING SPOT--uuunngh," I groan as she shows no mercy, causing my spunk to rise up in my balls. My head lolls back as the ceiling begins to blur. One more long, deep suck and that's that. I hold her head tightly as I fire thick ropes of cum into her sucking maw. My wife releases me, then gives me a hard kiss, forcing some of my own cum into my welcoming mouth. "So nice, Steve, so so nice," she says breathlessly. Then she leaves the den to continue packing. We both realize that we never answered her question. *** A month goes by. Andrea is out of the hospital, and Cheryl has settled into a routine there. We share some hot phone sex sessions in the beginning, but they taper off. We realize it's ultimately a poor substitute for the real thing. So I keep myself busy. I work longer hours. I catch up on my "Honey-Do" list around the house. And late at night, when the house is just too fucking quiet, I resort to my secret weapon: internet porn. Oh, yeah, I know where most of the free sources are, and I have a fiberoptic internet connection so I can download that shit real fast. You don't think we men need all of that speed just to read our email, do you? Shhiiittt. Porn drives all the technological advances on the web, baby. It works, for a time. I can jerk off two or three times in a row, and that totally exhausts me, allowing me to sleep soundly. But I still miss cuddling up to Cheryl's soft, warm form. One Saturday, I'm mowing the lawn when I take a good look at the flower bed that spans the front of our house. I've done a reasonably good job of keeping up with the housework, but the flowers have been solely Cheryl's domain. Now, after a month of neglect, the beds need some serious weeding. So after putting the mower away, I grab the basket of gardening tools and set to work. It's not as easy as I thought. Confusion over what's a flower and what's a weed sets in almost immediately. Fortunately for me I hear a car horn not long after I start. I turn around, and Marie is getting out of her red Mini Cooper convertible. She's wearing an ankle- length, paisley printed skirt and a beige, silk blouse. Her long nipples are easily discernable through the blouse, and I figure that a glimpse in the mirror would make this apparent to her. "Hi, Steve," she says when she reaches me. "I never thought of you as the gardening type." I'm 5'8", she's 5-even, and I feel like I'm towering over her. Her short, red hair shimmers in the late- morning light. It's a breezy day, and the wind is making the material of her clothing cling to her contours. I feel a stirring down below. "I'm not," I reply, "but I can't let the garden get out of control or Cheryl will kill me." Marie giggles. "That is so true, her flowers are her pride and joy. Tell you what: let me go home and change, and I'll show you how to take care of these flowers properly." "Hey, you do that and you can name your price," I say, without really thinking. She tilts her head and gets a quizzical look. "I'll take you up on that," she says before returning to her car. When Marie returns, she's wearing red and taupe gardening gloves--and little else. Her top is a white, skin-tight "wife beater", which her hard nipples are straining to pierce. And her denim shorts are cut high on her leg, fully showcasing her prominent, heart- shaped ass. "What?" she says, noticing my stunned expression. "I like to be comfortable. You're a big boy, right? You can handle this." "Sure, sure," I reply as she kneels down to set her gardening basket on the ground. Those sprayed-on shorts rise up, revealing the bottoms of her rounded ass- cheeks. I groan inwardly as my dark rod stiffens involuntarily. We get down to the serious business of gardening. The usually-demure Marie seemingly comes alive as she's guiding me on what's what. Flowers and shit must really be her thing, but I can dig it. We're brushing up against each other constantly and, between the sweat we're working up and the water that's being sprayed around, both of us are getting wet. Shirts are becoming transparent, Marie's nipples get longer and longer, and my prick gets harder and harder. Finally, two hours later, just past noon, we're all done. "Taa daa," she says, a little out of breath. "How's it look?" I give the whole flower bed the once-over. "I have to admit, it looks great!" I answer. "You really know your stuff!" She laughs. "Oh, you had doubts? Just for that, you owe me something to drink," she says, lightly punching me in the arm. Entering the house, I head to the kitchen to fetch some iced tea while Marie stands in the living room. I wonder why she's not sitting, but then I remember we're both rather wet. So I also retrieve a couple of towels from the first floor bathroom. "Here," I say while handing her a towel. We're quiet as I watch her dry off her torso, pat down her shorts, and dab those smooth, round thighs. My cock had started softening while I was getting the tea, but now it's back to full hardness. I've had trouble hiding it over the last two hours, but now it's on full display as I dry off myself. Now, I'm no fool. I've been here before, and I know full well that the coffee table separating us isn't nearly enough to stop us from breaking our wedding vows. "Whew," I say, breaking the silence while fanning myself. "I stink. I'm going to jump in the shower." "Oh. Right," Marie replies, blinking rapidly as if she's coming out of a trance. "Before you go, though, there's the matter of my price." I gulp, remembering my cavalier comment two hours earlier. "Oh, yeah. Okay, shoot." "It's no big deal," she says. "I just want to see...that." And she points right at the bulge in my khaki shorts. I back away some. "Now, Marie--" "Come on, Steve, I just want to see it, that's all. Besides, don't you want to let it out? It's been hard for two straight hours. What made it hard, anyway? Was it my nipples?" she asks, while plucking at them through her damp, translucent shirt. "Or my ass? You can't keep your eyes off it, can you?" Wow. This isn't the Marie I know. "Why do you want to see it? We both know your husband's bigger." She shrugs, stepping closer. "Just curious, is all. It's so hard right now, and I know that you're going to jack off in the shower. Aren't you? So this is my only chance." She winks. "Now, c'mon. Drop 'em." I can still stop this. But all of a sudden, I want to see how far this new Marie will go. So I unsnap my shorts and whisk them and my wet underwear down to my ankles. My dark dick bounces up, smacking me in the gut before pointing straight ahead. Marie quickly moves forward and kneels before me, firmly grasping my thighs, the tip of her upturned nose a mere inch from my cockhead. "OooOOOoo," she cooes. "Johnny's longer, but you're thicker. And the head is so FAT." Then she starts sniffing it, from tip to base, and all under my large, hairy balls. "MMMmmMm, it smells so sweaty, so musky. God I LOVE it..." I look down at her red mane as she continues to get a whiff of me. I get it now: Marie's gotten all hot and dirty today, working in my garden. And Johnny, her husband, is a mechanic, and he comes home grimy and greasy. I wonder how many times they've gone at it, rolling around on the gritty floor of his garage? She stands up with a loud sigh, still gazing at my pulsing black wand. "See? Debt paid in full. I didn't even touch it," she says huskily. "You can go jerk off now." Our eyes meet, and now I'm stepping to her, my left hand reaching up to tweak a nipple. But before it gets to its target, Marie takes me by the wrist. "Steve, I'm giving you fair warning," she says. "My nipples are very sensitive. They're my hot buttons. Whatever you do to them goes right to my itchy pussy. I can't be responsible for what happens if you mess with them." I pause for maybe a second. "Fair enough," I say as I use both hands to manhandle her chest. As I said before, Marie's flat as a board, but her nipples are incredibly long. Now I know they're spongy to the touch. She hisses, throwing her head back as I roughly squeeze each point, sending jolts of pleasure down her spine. She wraps her hands around my twitching prong, stroking it. "God damn it, Steve, I warned you, I fucking warned you," she says breathlessly. "Ain't nothing happen yet," I answer, pulling her to me so I can suck and bite her nipples through her shirt. One hand palms one cheek of her bubble butt, while the other unsnaps her shorts, slithers into her panties, and insinuates its middle finger between her plump, moist twat lips. Marie grunts as the finger rasps over her throbbing clit. Now, given our eight inch difference in height, we're in an awkward position. My torso is just about perpendicular to the ground as I'm sucking her nipples, and her arms are straining as she's struggling to maintain her grip on my chocolate cock. So I quickly pick up her tiny frame and toss her on the couch. She squeals as I strip her, revealing her dark-pink breast buds and smooth, cameltoe pussy lips. Grasping her knees, I part her thighs obscenely. Her eyes widen as I lick my lips and dip my head. "Wait, WAIT!!!" she exclaims, trying to squeeze her legs shut. "Johnny doesn't--" "Johnny should," I grunt as my hungry mouth makes contact. Marie squirms as I nibble up one outer lip and down the other. She starts to calm down as my tongue swirls around the edges of her clit-- which grows, and grows and GROWS until it's about an inch long! This woman is full of surprises today. Then, flattening my tongue, I swab the length of her quim, from clit to the puckered rose of her ass. After five or six swipes, I begin to softly attack her big clit, gently flicking just the tip. Her back arches, and her hips twitch with each lick. "UuuNNggHH!!!" Marie moans as I suck her clit between my lips. "This is SOOOO NNAASSTTTYYY but so fucking GOOD oohh Steve OOOHH STEEVVEEE--EEEEEEE--" She screeches as the orgasm hits her, her hips bucking, mashing into my slobbering mouth. I ease off a little, letting her come back down before tongue-lashing her again. I think I can get a couple more O's out of her, and I proceed to do just that. Each time she cums, I'm rewarded with a burst of hot, tasty cream down my throat. After the third one, I lift up from Marie's soaked slit. She's panting, her head lolled to one side, with her arms and legs akimbo. I waste no time in climbing on top of her and leveling my fat, black cock at the entrance of her pale, pink pussy. Damn, she's so tiny. I feel like a large, black bear smothering a small, red-haired bunny. At the touch of my cock-head, Marie manages the strength to turn her head and look me in the eyes. "Steve," she whispers, "what about Cheryl? About Johnny?" And there it is. Up till now, if you prescribe to the term, "eatin' ain't cheatin'", then Marie and I really haven't done anything yet. But as I run my mushroom- like prick-head between her tender, pouty lips, lubing it up and bumping it on Marie's super-sized clit, I realize that we can put an end to this right now. Get up, put our clothes back on, no harm, no foul. Instead, I reach down and lazily twirl my fingertip around her quivering teat, while softly bearing down with my pelvis, slightly parting the oh-so-fucking- tight muscular ring of her vaginal mouth. "I love Cheryl," I say. "You love Johnny. This won't change any of that. We're just...sharing each other for a little while. Y'know?" She tweaks the other nipple, writhing as my dickhead enters her a little more. "Well," she breathes, "maybe you can put the head in. But JUST the head! And--and then you have to pull it right out." A crooked grin crosses my lips as I rotate my hips, working my fat head just inside her creamy, hot gash. It pops in, forcing a loud gasp from both of us. "Okay, okay, okay," Marie says, gulping air. "Now take it OUT, Steve. Steve? Did you hear me?" I lower my head, suck in her nipple, and hunch my pelvis. Another inch sinks in. Marie cradles my face and cums, shuddering all over, and bathing my thick, dark prod with her luscious flow. "God DAMMNN, you're making cum so MUCH, Steve," she gasps. "B-but now you have to stop, okay?" "Inna minute," I grunt, shoving another two inches into her clasping quim. "You're so fucking TIGHT." Now, tight isn't always good. If a woman is too snug, then you spend most of the time trying not to shoot off too soon. But Marie's four orgasms have her so lubricated that I'm inspired to bury as much of my dark dick in her as possible. So I hunch again, driving yet another inch into her. I'm halfway in now--and she blasts off once more, this time digging her nails in my back and screaming to high heaven. That's when I pull back until just the plump head is inside, and pump back in. Then I do it again. And again. "OHmiGOD NNOOOO!!!" Marie moans, wrapping her arms and legs around me and clinging tightly. "You're FU-- you're FUC-- YOU'RE FUCKIIING MEEEE!!! W-when I tell Johnny--Johnny, he'll--" "Shut the fuck UP," I hiss, rearing back and slamming forward. Marie's head snaps back, her lips forming an O. I grab a handful of tousled red hair and pull her face to mine...and for the first time, we kiss. Hard and powerfully. She creams even more on my invading tool and cums again, squealing into my mouth. I look down at her, all huddled up under me, huffing and puffing, her eyes glazed over. I've got this cute, white pixie skewered on my thick, chocolate staff, but now I really want to turn her crank. So I pick up her tiny, 98-pound frame. As I stand with her, the sudden shift in weight drives her down the entire length of my pole. We both groan. "FUCK!" she shouts as I carry her to the patio door, open it, and walk out into the backyard. Anyone can see our naked forms, but no one's around as I quickly make it to the open shed. I put her down and bend her over the dusty patio table I keep in there. It's dirty and musty in here; Marie inhales deeply, letting the scents flood her nostrils, and she moans. "It's so FUNKY in here!" she hisses, "so fucking GRITTY...Mmmmm, I LOVE it!" And with that, I grab each round cheek of her heart- shaped ass and re-enter her, this time ramming my prick into her slick, stretched hole. The table rocks and rattles as I pound her squeezy box, her squeals and my grunts echoing off the inner walls of the shed. She cums twice more, and now her cream is dripping off my bloated balls. Finally, I'm puffing myself, and my legs start to tremble. I'm not in great shape to begin with, and after a morning of mowing, gardening, and fucking, I'm finally out of gas. So I give one more massive thrust, which lifts Marie on her toes; pull all the way out with a sticky pop; and let go, firing steamy streams of white, sticky cum all over her sweet ass. We compose ourselves, make sure that no one's in the yards surrounding mine, and dart back to the house. "God, Steve, you're a bastard," says Marie as she dresses. "I smell like you now." But then she smiles, and I know she'll wear my musk all the way home. I flop in my Barca-lounger, exhausted. "Are you going to tell Johnny?" I ask. "No," she says flatly. "I mean, you still need help tending your garden, right?" I nod. "And I can still do it for my price, right?" I nod a lot. "Well, then," she sighs, pulling up and fastening her shorts. "Ouch," she groans, rubbing her crotch while walking toward the front door. "Gonna be sore for days. You bastard." I'm asleep before the door closes behind her. END * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world contract HIV every year. You only have one body per lifetime, so take good care of it! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Kristen's collection - Directory 57