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By Storysman |
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By Storysman |
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AN EXPANDED VERSION OF THIS STORY IS AVAILABLE. CLICK FOR DETAILS.  Melinda's bodily rush had been nearly overwhelming from the moment she pictured
Michael in the car. It had overflowed her senses, and completed an orgasm that was started by the
inept Paul. Now, as she stared at the scribbled number and the equally scribbled "Michael"
beneath it, she felt a new wave spread through her as she reached for the phone.
This rush wasn't strictly arousal. Melinda felt a definite flavor of nervousness as she
removed the phone from the base and pressed the 'Talk' button. The sound of the dial-tone made
her jump slightly, as it seemed much louder than normal. Realizing that all of her senses were
heightened, Melinda reassured herself that it was not the phone trying to warn her about the path
on which she was about to embark.
Anne had warned her again about Michael before finally relenting and giving her the
number. "Paul wasn't good enough." Melinda had simply said. "His cock was great but the rest of
him was inexperienced, unsure." Michael had been the one she wanted, the one that made her
seek sex with another man in the first place. "Just one time." Melinda assured her friend. "Just
one really wonderful experience, that's all I ask."
Anne had sighed a deep, helpless sigh. But where she had contacted Paul for Melinda,
she refused to do so with Michael. "If you want him that badly, you'll have to get him yourself.."
She had lied about his living in Chicago deliberately to discourage Melinda from seeking him.
Why she had done that, Melinda wasn't sure. Too wild… Wasn't that exactly the experience
Melinda was seeking?
The dial-tone was in danger of becoming the annoying beeping that the phone made
when off the hook too long. Melinda wasn't having second thoughts, she was merely trying to
find the words to explain to Michael what she wanted. Finally, she began pressing the numbers.
The phone rang three times. With each ring, Melinda felt her heart beat in her chest
harder. She cleared her throat as she felt herself trembling, and hoped her voice wouldn't break
when she spoke to him.
He had such confidence in his voice when he heard who was on the other end. Such
assurance. Almost as if he was thinking "I knew you would. I knew you wanted me." Melinda
explained her wish, to meet him one and only one time to have sexual intercourse. Just needed
something more, she explained, than what she had experienced as woman who had been with
only one man. She opted not to tell him about Paul. Michael promised her an exquisite
experience, and asked only that she wear the same dress she had on the night they met. Melinda
agreed.
Michael suggested they meet in two days, on Friday. He explained he could leave work at
noon, and devote the rest of the day to their "experience." Melinda wished it could have been
sooner, but realized she had little time before Alan returned home for the day and getting a lunch
break from Michael probably wasn't going to cut it. Besides, she had her own work schedule to
consider, and Friday would be better for her as well.
The waiting was agonizing, and so was being around Alan. Seeing her husband brought
the first true waves of guilt for both what she had done, and what she was about to do. To make
matters worse, Alan had been a little extra affectionate since Anne's party, evidently trying to
strengthen the bond between them after encountering Michael. He had a look in his eyes, as
though he was pleading his case. I'm the man for you. I love you. I am the one who makes you
happy.
Work on Thursday was completely unproductive. Melinda daydreamed constantly of
Michael and the sensations she hoped he could bring. She found herself getting aroused several
times, and fled to the bathroom to ease her tension through the touch of her own fingers. She
brought herself to silent orgasm once, but refused to do so again. She wanted her body hungry
and desperate for the encounter the next day.
Melinda called in sick Friday just as she had done for Paul. A simple excuse of not being
over her "cold" sufficed. She had debated not telling Alan, but she feared he would call the office
and discover her ruse. So, just as she had done when she met Paul, she did her best portrayal of an
ill wife when she woke up. Her doting husband fetched her medicine, then left her alone in bed
when he went off to work himself.
She didn't think he suspected anything. Even his look from yesterday seemed more like
her own interpretation that Alan's own thoughts. She had never cheated on him before, and never
gave him anything to indicate she would. She was sure her trusted her completely, which, wile
advantageous, still caused a strong sense of guilt as she climbed out of bed and walked to the
closet.
Her clothes for the day were already decided. Melinda took the black dress from the
closet and placed it on the bed. She didn't need to get dressed for a few hours, but her eagerness
was forcing her to prepare in some way. She scavenged through the closet, looking for a pair of
high heels. Michael had requested only the dress, but she had a few improvements in mind. After
locating the shoes, she went to her dresser and began sifting through her collection of panties. Se
laughed to herself as she suffered the same difficulty in decision as she had with Paul, and this
was simply for underwear. The dress would require a strapless bra, as it exposed most of her
shoulders. That helped narrow down the selection, as she always wore a matching bra and
panties. Unfortunately, the selection she was left with was inadequate. Melinda sneered at the
three possibilities. They simply weren't sexy enough.
After a shower and a bowl of cereal for breakfast, Melinda was in the car heading for a
little lingerie stop about forty-five minutes away. She was pleased with herself for thinking of a
mission to pass the time -- a mission that fit nicely into her plans to meet Michael. She was going
to find the sexiest, raciest bra and panty set she could find.
Melinda was oblivious to the shopkeeper and the other customers as she scanned the
racks for something perfect. Every thought was devoted to Michael and his reaction to each of the
bra and panty sets she examined. She had no idea of his favorite color, nor texture. She had
already decided not to use Alan's tastes however, figuring that a "wild" man like Michael would
have different taste. Alan liked lace. He generally picked out elaborate patterns that were semi-
transparent. He also preferred a fuller panty, something that covered her pussy and ass
completely. His choices were always beautiful, like something a princess would wear. She
wanted something more like what a stripper would wear.
Melinda happily discovered a set that thrilled her. The mere mental image of her wearing
the skimpy undergarments flushed her with arousal. The panties were a tiny patch of rectangular
silver silk. The would covered her cunt, if shaved. But the surrounding skin would be open. Two
simple straps connected the small covering to a thin strand of silver in the back. The bra was
strapless, and featured two oval cut outs than stretched across the width. Melinda knew the
bottom cut would come perilously close to her nipples, but she didn't mind. They would be
exposed at some point.
She quickly went to the counter and pulled out the credit card. The man working the
counter gave her a smile, as he was evidently picturing her in the new purchase. He was
somewhat cute, but no Michael. She checked her watch, and felt comfortable in her remaining
time. Still, she ran to her car after leaving the store. It wasn't because she feared she would be late
for because of buying the panties, it was that she wanted to try them on.
Melinda eyed herself for a long while after getting home, stripping, and pulling the small
underwear onto her body. Her pubic hair was far too visible, but she had anticipated that. With a
good chunk of time remaining, Melinda ran a hot bath, slipped into the comforting water, and
reached for her razor.
Delicately she removed the hairs around her vagina, pausing every so often to stroke her
anticipating clitoris, and fantasize about Michael. She had never shaved for Alan, but figured she
could explain to him that she wanted to try something new. If he didn't like it, she would grow it
back. She hoped he liked it. She knew he would need him to experiment and open up if they date
with Michael was as fulfilling as she hoped. She wanted to stay with Alan, but anything
incredible that Michael taught her, Alan would have to learn as well.
The shaving continued, but with Melinda spending more time stroking her cunt than
removing the hair. After straining to read her clock in the bathroom mirror's reflected image,
Melinda realized she was now running late. She quickly finished the shave, then turned on the
shower head to bathe her hair.
She was glad she had planned her outfit already. Time was getting tight. Still, she took a
moment to soak in the site of herself in the new panties with her newly-shaven cunt. She loved it.
There was a sense of sexuality she hadn't experienced before as she looked at the shapes of her
lips pushing against the silvery silk. With no hair surrounding her opening, Melinda gained a new
appreciation of her feminine area.
She completed the outfit by slipping into the dress, adorning her neck with a diamond
necklace, and stepping into the high heels. The shoes would not be good on a dance floor, but
Melinda knew her dance with Michael would not require a dance floor. A squirt of perfume, red
lipstick and the perfect amount of make-up completed her image. She knew she looked stunning,
and smiled at herself in the mirror. A check of the time revealed she was running fifteen minutes
late, so she scampered down to the car as fast as she could in the heels, and was immediately on
her way.
Michael had agreed to meet her at a neutral location, but had decided on the location
himself. The hotel was far nicer than the motel where she had met Paul. An indoor garden added
an exotic flavor to the surroundings, and she imagined the room would equal the splendor of the
lobby.
The door to the room was ajar. Melinda knew Michael had already arrived. The crack in
the door was mostly dark, but a glowing light was shining through. It was the lights in the room,
it was candlelight. Melinda felt herself swoon. She pushed open the door.
"Michael?"
Her eyes tried to focus in the dim light. She room was actually a suite, and she could see
a set of French doors across the room. She determined that must lead to the bedroom, as no bed
was present in the room she was in. For that matter, Michael was not present, either. She stepped
inside, and noticed for the first time some classical music playing from a mini-stereo in the
corner. As her eyes adjusted, she saw a bucket of ice with a chilled bottle of red wine. Two
glasses were sitting on a cloth next to it, and both looked unused. Evidently Michael didn't feel
the need to calm any nerves.
She took two more steps inward, and felt something soft beneath her feet. She looked
down, and noticed roe petals strewn in a path leading to the French doors. She wasn't sure if she
had ever felt more wanted.
"May I take your coat.?"
Michael had stepped in behind her. She turned to him nervously, but felt her remaining
uneasiness melt away as she looked into his eyes. They were intently on her, but not menacing.
His handsome face was graced with a reassuring smile. Melinda nodded, and Michael slid the
coast from her shoulders.
"You look amazingly beautiful." he whispered. "May I have this dance?"
Michael slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her close.
"I, I don't have the shoes for dancing." Melinda stammered, wishing already had she
chosen different footwear.
"You'll be fine." Michael reassured. Indeed, his moves were slow and rhythmic,
requiring little footwork. Melinda's face came against his shoulder. She could smell cologne
mixed with his natural musk, and the scent flushed her body with arousal.
Michael's body moved perfectly. There was a relaxing sensuality about them, as though
they were designed to calm as well as stimulate. Melinda felt her nerves tingle where she brushed
against him, and felt her hips moving in concert with his. His hands moved down her side with
the slightest of force. Their bodies remained pressed together at the hips, despite the fact the
movements were becoming more thrusting in nature. Michael ran his hand over her as his face
leaned in close to hers. When it came back up, it grabbed hers, and he moved them together to his
mouth. Melinda opened her fingers, and Michael began kissing them.
His lips pressed lightly against them, his eyes focused intently on Melinda's. She was
definitely not going to need to make any of the first moves, as she had to do with Paul. Michael
knew exactly what he wanted to do, and was doing it.
He kissed the palm of her opened hand. Melinda felt his tongue press against, and lick
against the palm. Michael turned her hand, kissing and licking her fingers as he stared at her.
Watching his mouth made her own lips twitch, and feeling his warm wet presses shot fire through
her senses.
She knew he wasn't going to ask about Alan. Obviously she wanted to be with him or she
wouldn't be here. He didn't need to know how she rationalized her decision or in what ways Alan
was inadequate. He was going to make love to her without guilt, simply because he desired her.
The wedding ring was not a deterrent, not before she made the phone call and certainly not after.
Michael reached for her left hand and began the same treatment, but quickly went to the
wedding ring. She laughed to herself about her moments-before thoughts concerning the ring.
Michael saw it not as a deterrent, but a turn-on. His tongue licked at the ring, and he even kissed
it. His eyes were watching Melinda's carefully a sign of guilt. She bit her lip, which prompted
Michael to close his around the ring and slide it off her finger. His face was fully expressive. You
don't need this… you're mine now…
Michael placed the ring on the table next to her hanging coat. It would be there for her
when she left. Losing the ring made Melinda feel naked, and a stiffness returned to her
movements. Michael's hands were moving again. His left moved behind her back. His right, palm
pointing downward, ran down her side, down to her leg, and then between her legs. Michael
stroked through the dress with a powerful force. The hand on her back kept her from falling
backwards. Melinda gasped. Her pussy began to throb from his attention, and a flash hot spread
from the source. It climbed her body and poured over her shoulders. Michael leaned his face
inward, and brought his lips to Melinda's.
Michael's hands massaged her back while he kissed, but soon moved to the zipper. Here
we go… Melinda thought. Michael undid the zipper, but then stepped back.
"Undress."
Melinda found a warmth in his voice, but also a command. She wriggled the dress down
her body, looking at his eyes as they saw the silver bra with the oval cuts. They opened wide.
"You bought that for me, didn't you?" he said, his enthusiasm back under control.
"Yes." She smiled at his perception. She slid the dress past her hips, down to her legs.
Again Michael's eyes widened. For a moment, she thought he would lose control, leap on her,
and fuck her. But he remained motionless.
Melinda dropped the dress to the floor and stood before her lover, dressed only in the
new, tiny panties, the bra, and her high heels. Michael's eyes darted over every inch of her.
Melinda expected him at attack at any moment, but instead he continued to stare as if drinking the
sight of her.
"How does your bra feel?" he asked.
"Fine, I guess."
"No, how does it feel? Feel it…"
Melinda smiled, and moved her right hand to her left breast. She began to caress herself
through the fabric, still smiling at Michael.
"Well?" he asked.
Melinda didn't answer right away. The feeling of her hand on her breast was growing
intense. Her nipples were hardened, and she caught an occasional glimpse of the left one as her
hand more forcefully circled the breast. Instead of answering,, she raised her left hand, now
putting her left hand on her left breast and the right hand on the right breast. She knew he really
wasn't after an answer.
Michael stood up, and Melinda stopped. He motioned for her to continue, however, and
she did as instructed while he walked behind her. She opened her eyes, trying to see him, and he
reappeared on her left. He was walking a circle, analyzing ever viewpoint of her as she massaged
her body. She knew he had looked at her ass and the tiny fabric covering it. She knew he looked
at her exposed hips, her thighs, the small of her back…
He was behind her now, and Melinda felt him lower a piece of fabric over her eyes. It
was a blindfold.
"Continue." He said.
Melinda did as instructed. The guessing game of his location added spice to her
sensations. Her body was trembling again, but not from nervousness. She moved her right hand
over her pussy, and slid her finger into the grove of the lips. She stroked up and down, wondering
if Michael was in front of her, enjoying the display, or perhaps behind and not realizing what he
was missing. She felt hot breath on her thighs, and knew he was crouched down, inches from her
crotch. But a moment later, the hot breath was gone, and the guessing game returned.
Her next sensation of him was that of his hands grasping her necklace. He pulled it over
her head, and Melinda wondered why he was taking it from her. It was a gift from Alan, and
perhaps he sensed that.
Michael's hands joined hers. She released control, and allowed him to move her hands
himself. He guided them over her body in sweeping motions, then lifted them an inch or so from
her flesh. He brought her outstretched fingers to her nipples. He bushed her palms over them,
making enough contact to fill her body with more lust but not enough to provide any relief from
the burning they were experiencing. He moved her hands past her stomach and between her legs.
Michael's hands began to turn her. She felt his crotch pushing against her ass. She felt his
hardness, and there was a lot of it! He pushed again, and Melinda stepped forward. Michael
guided her to the French doors. She felt his hand reach past her to open them, then the pushing
force of his hips on her ass once again.
She stepped inward, and allowed Michael to guide her onto the bed. She fell on her back,
certain she would soon feel him atop her. Instead, she felt his hand clutch her wrist, and within a
moment he was tying it to the bedpost. She didn't struggle as he tied the second, nor as he spread
her legs open and wrapped binds around her ankles.
Her hearing was now her sole useful sense, and she heard Michael go back into the main
room, then re-enter a moment later.
Melinda breathed heavy and gasped aloud as she felt his hot breath move over her
panties. She was twitching. Her body was on fire. Melinda was squirming feverishly on the bed.
She felt Michael's hands on her hips, then the motion of them sliding up her body until the came
to her breasts. His palms took each breast fully, but just for a moment. Melinda then felt
something cold on her chest. A snipping sound pierced her ears, followed by two more. Melinda
then felt her breasts being bared as the bra was lifted from her body. A second cold sensation
landed on her chest. Melinda arched her back from the chilling touch. She knew what it was…
her necklace. Michael had placed it in the ice along with the bottle of wine.
"Uhh.. Uhh…" Melinda moaned as he dangled the cold metal against her nipples. She
wanted desperately to close her hands around them, to return them to warmth. He rested the metal
on each nipple for just a few seconds. The sensation was agony, yet she felt her pussy flowing
with wetness. Her hips were humping into the air.
The necklace moved down her stomach, causing Melinda to catch her breath and gasp
sounds that sounded like pain. He let it rest on her panties. The cold, freezing metal mixing with
the hot lust of her cunt. She felt his fingers pushing it into her, into her opening as far as the silk
would allow. Melinda felt the diamond portion slide of the silk and against exposed flesh. She
nearly ripped the binds as she jumped upward.
Michael maneuvered the metal underneath the fabric and onto her hot cunt. Melinda was
trashing. She was getting ready to cum. The sensation was at once unbearable and numbing. She
wasn't sure what felt better, the cold metal or Michael's maneuvering fingers. When Michael
slipped his forefinger into her cunt, she knew which she preferred.
Michael thrust his finger in and out of her only a half-dozen times before Melinda's body
froze and her pussy erupted in orgasm. Her hips thrust into the air, carrying Michael's thrusting
finger up and down which each humping motion. As the orgasm released, she fell back into the
bed.
"Michael… Oh God, Michael…"
She didn't have much time to relax. Melinda felt a glass being held to her lips. It was the
wine. Melinda sipped, just now realizing her thirst. Some spilled onto her chest, causing her again
to jerk from the cold. Then she realized it was intentional. Michael was pouring the wine onto her
body. Again, she reared upwards as her body was engulfed by the cold liquid. Melinda felt it run
down her sides, onto the sheets, and under her back. She felt it chilling her breasts. Goosebumps
spread over her skin, and she began to shake from the cold.
She heard a few sounds while she writhed. They sounded like Michael undressing. She
felt his body then climb atop hers. Michael made good work of the wine he had spilled, and his
body heat made Melinda a little more comfortable. But within moments she was again feeling the
cold wine pouring on her, this time on her pussy.
It wasn't a tremendous amount, but it was enough to make her squeal. When Michael's
mouth descended on her cunt, she cried out at the top of her lungs.
"Oh, yes! Oh God!"
Michael lapped at her cunt, picking up the droplets of wine with his tongue. He pushed
silk aside, and completely mouthed her pussy. She felt his tongue probe deep inside her. She was
writhing wildly. Her nipples burned as if on fire, and she desperately wished her hands were free.
The flicks of his tongue were skilled. He curled the tip into each aching portion of her cunt.
Melinda screamed as his teeth bit lightly on her clitoris and labia. Her hips convulsed, and a
second orgasm swarmed from between her legs, engulfing her in moaning frenzy.
Paul had been determined to be a disappointment after his orgasm. Melinda knew
Michael was not a disappointment before she was even in the bed. Here she was, still wearing her
panties, and Michael had made her cum twice without even using his cock.
After the last tremors of her second orgasm faded, Melinda felt her body relax into the
bed. She could sense Michael sitting between her legs, and felt his eyes on her even though she
was still blindfolded. Her chest was still heaving with deep breaths. Her body was glistening from
wine, sweat, and Michaels saliva.
She felt Michel's fingers massaging her inner legs, from about mid-thigh to just below
her vagina. Her touch was extremely light and delicate, and at first seemed to be completely
soothing. But, after a couple of minutes, Melinda felt her body starting to awaken once again. The
instinctive writhing began, and her heaving chest continued. She felt another cold press of middle
on her hips, and heard snipping sounds. Michael was cutting off her panties. She felt Michael's
weight shift in the bed, moving him towards the head. He began working on the blindfold, and in
a moment Melinda's vision returned.
"This, I want you to see…" he said, and intense look on his face.
Michael was dressed only in silk bikini briefs. The briefs themselves were sexy, but what
made Melinda's heart leap was the massive cock that not only formed a bulge in the fabric, was
shot upwards, out of the underwear, with a length that could not be contained. It was every bit the
equal of Paul's penis, and then some. Melinda guessed it was probably an inch longer, and
significantly wider. Michael got off the bed. Melinda watched with anticipation as he slid the
briefs off, and fully exposed his manhood.
He stroked it a moment. Melinda was looking only at the shaft, at the hunger for her it
seemed to possess. A fear passed through her mind, what if I can take it inside me? But she
remembered how it was with Paul, and how much of him she was able to absorb. She wanted it
inside her and, she wanted it now.
Michael undid the binds on her ankles. He knew she would need more leg movement to
adequately accommodate him. She immediately bent her knees, opened herself for him, then
wrapped her legs around his back as he climbed in between them. Michael pushed inside her, but
only about an inch. He oozed inside to be more precise, letting his cock expand her pussy slowly.
"Oooohh!" Melinda wailed. His cock was definitely too big, she thought. Her voice
reached a high pitch almost equal to crying. Michael eased further into her. Melinda's ass shifted
back from reflex. Pain began to throb between her legs. Melinda closed her eyes and held her
breath, trying desperately to endure the sensation. She felt almost virginal. Michael felt like he
was only an inch inside her, yet that inch was tearing her apart. After a good pause, Melinda
again opened her eyes and looked down between her legs.
Michael was almost completely inside her.
The sight was amazing. His huge, wide cock glistened with the wetness of her pussy as it
slowly pulled out. The head didn't appear when she expected it, just more of his shining shaft.
Melinda cried out as she saw the head appear, then disappear as Michael pushed inside her once
more. She watched her pussy take the tremendous length of cock. She felt it piercing inside her,
pushing against the back of her cunt, and felt the shocks of excitement flood her body. The pain
was disappearing, at least to the point of where it felt more good than bad. Melinda watched
Michael slow penetrate her one more time, letting out a low "Yeeessss…" as he did. When his
cock momentarily popped out again, Melinda looked into his eyes.
"Fuck me."
Michael took the cue. He drove into her hard. Melinda screamed and clutched his hips.
Michael's pace was gaining more and more speed.
"Yeesss…. Yeesss…." Melinda said with little force behind the words. Her chest had
again locked its breath. She shifted her legs, and felt him penetrate more effectively. Her pussy
was soaked with her own fluid, and his cock, though pushing hard against her cunt walls, was
slipping in and out of her with relative ease.
"Uhhh! Uhhh! Oooohhh!" Melinda couldn't stop her voice as her breath exploded out of
her chest. The more he thrusted, the more Melinda's cunt accepted the intruder, and welcomed
the hot, engorged cock inside. Michael slipped into a constant rhythm, and Melinda felt her a
swelling of sensation between her legs. Each penetration built it more and more, and after dozens
of strokes of his body, her pussy once again felt ready to burst. She closed her legs around
Michael, squeezed her arms around his back, and pulled him down inside and on top of her.
Her hips humped as the orgasm came. The experience was magnificent, unlike any other
she had experienced. It wasn't just the orgasm itself that felt so different, it was the hugeness
inside her while it happened that made it so magical.
"Michael!!!!!! Oh, Michael!!!!!!!!"
The sound of her calling his name, the sound of her moans and pleasured cries, and the
incredibly feeling of her sweet, tight cunt brought the moans of orgasm to Michael.
"Ahhh! Ahh! Ahh!" His hips thrust in short, swift strokes as his sperm erupted from his
cock. The couple moaned at the top of their lungs as they felt the hot warm, white fluid squirt
inside her pussy, mingling with her own juice and coating the cock that was its source.
Michael collapsed on his lover, kissing her, rubbing her breasts, and continuing to move
his limpening cock inside her.
"Oh Michael…" Melinda said, her voice approaching normal. Her heaving breath kept
it's pitch at a tremble. "Oh, Michael…' she said again, closing her eyes.
Michael didn't have to ask if the experience was all she had hoped for. The satisfied,
exhausted look on her face was all he needed for an answer.
They hugged, kissed, and massaged each other for a good while. Melinda knew she
would have to get home, and finally pulled herself from his grasp. Her bra and panties, the sexy
new pair she had purchased hours earlier, were in tatters. Still, she picked them up. She walked
naked into the main room, noticing again the classical music. She hadn't heard it during her cries
of orgasmic pleasure, but it had been loud enough for her to do so, if only her attention wasn't
elsewhere. Melinda picked up her dress, and began to slip into it. Michael had walked back into
the main room, still naked. Melinda couldn't help but stare at his penis, still excessive in size
though it wasn't fully hard.
"I want you again." He said.
Melinda wanted desperately to agree. Her body still tingled from the best sex she had
ever had. She knew that at this moment, Michael was the one who could satisfy her sexual needs.
Not Paul, and not Alan. Still, she was married and in love. Her body was satisfied enough to see
past its lust to the love and happiness Alan offered her. When she placed her wedding ring back
on her finger, the guilt was strong enough to gain the upper hand. It was the guilt that compelled
her to say no, and the guilt that compelled her to grab her coat, slip her bra and panties in her
purse, and walk out the door.
More than anything,, Melinda wanted to crash into bed and relive her encounter with
Michael with her mind, and possibly her fingers. She felt exhausted, emotionally as well as
physically, and curling up in bed with a cup of coffee for an hour sounded perfect. She had a little
cleaning up to do, however, and not much time to do it. Alan would be home in roughly a half an
hour.
Melinda pulled the dress from her body and hung it in the closet. She found her razor in
the bathroom and attempted to rinse the remaining pubic hairs from it. She decided changing the
blade was the better option, so she proceeded to do that. She was hurrying, not just because she
had to hide the evidence of her tryst with Michael, but because she needed to remove her makeup,
climb into bed, and act as though she was suffering from a cold. Her lipstick was mostly worn
off, but the rest of her face was more in indication of someone trying to look their best, not
someone at home all day trying to keep from throwing up.
Melinda washed the makeup from her face, and while still mopping her cheeks with a
towel, froze as she saw Alan's car pull up in the driveway. She went into hurry mode as she
realized her husband was early. She scanned the room for any more obvious signs of her adultery.
There was only one. The bag from the lingerie shop. Melinda grabbed it, checked to make sure
the receipt was still inside, then thrust it to the bottom the garbage can. She would have preferred
burning it, or taking it to another dumpster, but she had no time for that now.
Still naked, Melinda reached into a drawer and pulled out a long t-shirt. She hoped into
bed, realized she was not in the bra and panties in which she slept the night before, but figured
she could explain that away. After all, what was more comfortable than a simple t-shirt when
sick?
Alan appeared in the doorway, holding a bouquet of flowers. Melinda nearly broke into
tears as her husband kissed and massaged her. He was being the perfect husband, and she had just
been an adulterous wife. Alan didn't attempt to make love to her that night, instead opting to let
her rest in the peace and quiet of their bedroom while he watched television downstairs. Melinda
spent the night in bed reliving the days events in her mind. As desperately as she wanted to reach
between her legs to add physical sensation to her memories, she decided she owed Alan some
consideration. She would think about her lover, his body, and his incredible love-making, but she
would not masturbate to him.
Not tonight.
Melinda professed her clean bill of health the next morning. She felt absolutely vibrant
when she awoke, and ripped her husband's boxers from his body. She serenaded her mate's body
with kisses and moans, delighting him in a wondrous, if unexpected way. Melinda giggled and
squealed at her husband's touches, and felt a full wave of erotic lust encompass her when Alan
climbed atop her. Melinda prepared herself for a deep, satisfying moan like she had done for
Michael when his cock pumped inside her.
But it wasn't what she wanted. Alan humped her. He thrust inside her. But the sensation
was weak. It wasn't Michael. Melinda knew she had to remember him, and his perfect, massive
cock if she wanted to cum. She thought totally of him, rubbing her body as she did. Alan slipped
away. She felt her fingers go in her pussy, masturbating herself. Her eyes opened. Alan had
finished. He had already cum and was not sitting back, watching her get herself off.
Melinda could see the expression on his face.
He was wondering why.
Alan had acted please with his wife's orgasmic experience, despite the fact that her
moans and mini-thrusts were not in synch with his own. Evidently he had convinced himself that
his performance inspired her and aroused her to a point he had to stimulate her no further. The
couple enjoyed a happy breakfast, then set about the day with lazy plans and relaxation in store.
Melinda didn't even bother to get properly dressed for the day. She slipped on a pair of sheer,
light blue panties with a couple of flower shapes on them, and the matching bra. Alan seemed
quite delighted to see her romping around the house with her pussy and nipples rather visible
through the fabric. Melinda wondered how Michael would react.
About 2 o'clock, Melinda headed into the basement to do the laundry. She added a short
robe to her ensemble to combat the extra chilliness of the downstairs. Being dressed only in sexy
underwear and now her robe worked to her advantage – she didn't have to remove any clothing to
include it in the wash. She had left Alan plopped down on the sofa watching some science fiction
show on television, and knew she could spend as much time in the basement as needed. She had a
second motivation for heading downstairs. All morning she had been thinking about Michael.
Spending some time in the basement would give her a chance to be alone with her thoughts.
Melinda dumped the dirty clothes in the washer. Running only cold water, Melinda
smiled as her hands were chilled as the machine filled. She adjusted the clothes, and intentionally
left her hands dripping as she closed the lid.
Melinda moved her wet hand over her breast, and let a droplet fall from her finger and
onto her nipple. The rush returned to her body, along with her smile. She moved to the couch, fell
upon it, and began rubbing herself while remembering Michael, the necklace, and the wine. She
rubbed and penetrated herself for over ten minutes, drawing out her climax as Michael had done
the day before.
Melinda heard a slight rapping on glass. She opened her eyes and looked to the walkout
basement's doorwall. She gasped as she recognized the figure behind the glass.
It was Michael.
Melinda jumped up, and immediately closed her robe. She walked to the door, and slid it
open.
"You look amazing." Michael said, pulling a bit of her robe aside and exposing her bra.
Melinda re-closed her robe, and gave Michael a stern look.
"What are you doing here? How did you find out where I lived?"
"I had you followed." He said matter-of-factly.
"You had me followed? Why?"
He lifted the bottom of her robe. He lifted it high enough to reveal her legs pressed
together until tucked inward and created the area of her cunt, covered by her sheer light blue
panties.
Michael whistled. "God, you are so hot. I knew I couldn't fuck you just one time."
"Michael, you have to leave. Alan is home!"
"Oh, so if Alan wasn't home, you'd invite me in and fuck me?"
"That's not what I meant."
"I think it is." He leaned in, and kissed her. Melinda kissed back. Michael reopened
Melinda's robe while they kissed. Melinda didn't stop him. She longed for his touch again, and
she wasn't strong enough to refuse it now that it was offered. Michael's hand closed over her
breast.
"I need to fuck you again, Melinda. I want to fuck you again."
She felt his tongue in her mouth, now meeting hers. Her thoughts fluttered from panic to
arousal and back to panic. Alan was upstairs, that was a danger. But the whirring of the washing
machine and his absorption in his program might overcome that danger. The want in her was
becoming overwhelming. The pleasure Michael was offering her was strong enough for her to
taste. Melinda knew the real fear that was forming in her heart. It wasn't getting caught, though
there was certainly a chance of that. The fear was created by the thought of fucking him again,
but not for this time. Melinda was afraid there would be another time after this one, and another.
Melinda's body had already made up her mind for her. As soon as Michael's hand
wedged between her legs and brushed against her pussy, Melinda broke their kiss long enough to
say "Fuck me!" She repeated the phrase over and over as Michael lowered her to the sofa. He
tugged hard on her panties, and Melinda heard them rip. A second tug allowed them to come off
her hips. She beat him to the punch on her bra, unclasping it before he had the need to tear it from
her. Now nude, Melinda brought Michael's face back to hers, kissing him. She flicked her tongue
out at his as his hands played with her breasts.
"I want you inside me. I want your cock." Melinda wasn't in the mood for long foreplay
this time. She had taken care of that herself. All she wanted was to feel his fullness inside of her.
Melinda stretched out on her back as Michael undressed. She gazed at the ceiling of the
basement, knowing Alan was on the other side and not too far away. She prayed the sound of the
machine would be loud enough to cover her moans.
Michael descended on her, kissing and groping as he shifted his body into position.
Melinda opened her legs for her lover, dying to feel that first penetration. His weight was coming
downward. His cock was plunging inward.
"Oohhh! Oh my god!" Melinda winced at the mixture of pain and pleasure. Michael
didn't ease inside her, he rammed himself inside her. Melinda's hands clutched his back. Her face
widened in an ecstatic smile. "Michael, it's so big…"
Michael grabbed the edge of the sofa, and used the leverage to drive hard inside Melinda.
"Ohh! Ohh!"
Michael pulled out of Melinda's pussy. His strong hands reached for her sides.
"I know your husband can't make you feel like this – what you are about to feel. Turn
over!"
Melinda flipped onto her stomach, wondering where exactly Michael intended on fucking
her.
"No anal." She breathed.
Either Michael wasn't planning that, or he actually heeded her wishes. Melinda wasn't
sure which, but Michael lifted her ass into the air, then drove into her cunt from behind.
"Uhh! Oh my GOD!!!" his cock felt even more incredible at this angle. After just a few
strokes, Melinda felt her body weakening. She could fill his hips against her ass, and that
incredible shaft plunging deep inside her.
Melinda buried her face in the sofa, trying to muffle her screams of pleasure. Michael
was thrusting harder than ever, his own lust starting to get the better of him. Melinda was doubled
over, her ass in the air and sinking lower and lower with his thrusts. Finally, she felt herself
release. Her orgasm swept over her. Her twitching body and primal moans inspired Michael
plunge once more inside her, and fire his sperm deep inside her cunt with his own, magnificent
orgasm.
The couple remained locked for a few moments, before they both realized they were still
in danger of getting caught. Michael got up, and pulled his clothes back on.
"I need a phone number." Michael said, still breathing heavily. "So I can reach you."
Melinda slowly got up from the sofa and looked at him. Indeed, waiting for Michael to
show up at her home wasn't the best plan for future meetings. And, they both knew that her guilt
might keep her from calling Michael herself, at least for a little while.
Melinda, still naked, found a pen and a piece of paper. She wrote down her office number
and handed it to her lover. This would be the best way to continue their relationship.. .to continue
their affair.
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