Simone Pt 04

SIMONE PART 4

A woman returns from Mike's past

[ [ PLEASE READ THE STANDARD DISCLAIMER ON ALEXTASY'S BIO PAGE ] ]

* * *

Our lives kept getting better. Vince was a hard worker who made friends on the construction site. He did odd jobs, hauling materials and tools, cleaning up trash, whatever anyone needed him for. He was attentive and didn't complain. I told everyone his wife was my former stepdaughter, but the only special treatment he should get was to take more shit than everybody else. They got a kick out of that, and he blushed. There was never an indication of any other sort of relationship between us.

Simone had taken him back to the doctor. When they told the doc about his renewed erection when I screwed his ass, the doc wasn't surprised. He said stimulating the sensitive nerves in the rectum and the prostate could sometimes help with erections and ejaculation.

She bought a lifelike dildo about my size and used it to fuck him every way from Sunday. His anaconda fattened up a bit more and he ejaculated quickly, but he was still too soft for Simone to take advantage of. I showed sympathy, but I can't say I was disappointed.

Every time I reamed his ass, he sprang to full attention. Simone said he was noticeably harder when I spanked him first. Nobody was displeased with the solution that I was in control of their fucking. In fact, they both seemed thrilled that Daddy could effectively fuck both of them at once.

The three of us were spending most nights at my house. Every few days I asked for time alone with one or the other. I usually went on dates with Simone when Vince was working at the gym. I relished sleeping alone with her those nights.

Vince continued to work on his cocksucking skills. He learned to take me down his throat, though not as smoothly as his wife. He would cough, gag and sputter. I told him I got a kick out of making my bottom uncomfortable. The sounds of his distress ramped up after that.

His wife couldn't get enough of watching her husband swinging on my dick. She would sit close to us and jig herself, coming several times. Her favorite was to ride my face while Vince fucked himself on my dick.

It was the third weekend after we enjoyed our first three-way fuck. We had found new combinations. This time we were on my bed with Vince propped up against the headboard. His butt was perched on a couple of pillows so I could kneel between his huge, widespread thighs.

Simone was riding him reverse cowgirl, facing me. Her husband could touch her breasts from behind and push his thick finger into her butt if I gave permission. This position also allowed her to control the speed and depth of his cock--her husband could get carried away--and it had the benefit that she and I could kiss and caress each other. It was almost like his dick was a huge version of mine and his ass was an ultra-tight version of her pussy.

We were moving slow and easy, making love with each other through her husband. Vince had held out for several minutes the first time he came. We had been working on his stamina. Another advantage was that Simone could keep him inside her if she didn't move too much. That way she could enjoy his inevitable second orgasm that came when he felt the heat of my semen spreading in his bowels.

My joy was approaching. I started thrusting harder. Her gasp was the signal he was expanding inside her.

Staring into her luscious blue eyes from inches away, I told her, "I love you, Peaches."

"I love you so much, Mike," she said, an unexpected deviation from her usual 'Daddy'. It touched my heart. It was me she loved, not her 'daddy'.

We hugged our bodies together and kissed as the waves of pleasure rolled through me. Vince groaned and Simone whimpered and shuddered with another small orgasm when her husband's cum poured into her belly.

When the moment had passed, I pulled the pillows from under Vince and tossed them up against the headboard, then crawled up to lie about a foot beside him. After a minute's rest, I planned to head to the shower.

Simone came to me and threw her leg over my belly. She leaned forward for a soft, loving kiss. When she sat back, she was looking at me in a way that made my gut tighten.

"Mike, I love you more than I ever thought I could love anybody. Vince and I have talked about it and he knows how I feel about you. You're an amazing man, in every way."

My heart felt like someone was crushing it. Echoes of another conversation just like this one resonated from deep in my memory.

I met Patrice through the bisexual swinger group. She was about five years older than me and had a medium-sized figure with healthy hips and hefty breasts. She was a sweet and gentle woman who enjoyed a rough fuck as well as tender lovemaking. She was the woman who first convinced me to slap her face when we were fucking, to show her who owned her.

I only wished the slaps had done their job.

Her husband Hank was a seriously gay, painslut cuckold. The only way he could fuck his wife was if another man had been there first. He begged me to tie him up, whip him, and fuck him brutally, then make him suck my nasty ass-and-lube-covered dick. He could come just from having his balls crushed, even when he was wearing his cock cage. If I zapped him with a stun gun, he wanted more. Seriously perverted.

The three of us began meeting outside the swinger group. Our relationship grew close. I would go to their house, abuse Hank and take Patrice in every way until we were worn out. Sometimes she and I went out on real dates. Hank would have to choose his wife's clothes and bathe her and help her dress for our date. When I arrived to pick her up, I might shove a vibrator up his ass and make him put on little girl's panties, a training bra and high heels while we were gone.

Then I made a mistake. I fell in love with Patrice. I could tell she felt the same way, but she would never admit it.

We had been playing together for over six months. Patrice and I went out for dinner, dancing, and a walk along the river. She was exceptionally introspective that night.

When I took her home I expected to go inside. She stopped at the door and looked up at me.

"I've never told you, but I think you know I love you Mike. You are the man I wish I'd met ten years ago. You are an amazing lover, so powerful one minute and tender the next. You're funny and smart and a genuine, good man. I admire your honesty. That's why I have to be honest with you."

"Wh-what are you trying to tell me?"

"I love my husband," she said. Tears were in her eyes. "I'm sure you know I don't fuck around because I'm a slut. Sure, I'm having a great time, but I do it for Hank. He has his kinks, but he loves me. I'm really a one-man woman. I want to make my man happy. What gets me off is sex with the man I love. That's why I've enjoyed the time I've spent with you, Mike. And that's why we have to break it off."

"Break it off? Why? I love you. You love me. I thought we were good together."

"I'm married to Hank. I promised I wouldn't leave him, and I won't. I'm afraid..." She bit her trembling lip. "I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to keep that promise if I'm around you much longer."

She turned and went inside, closing the door behind her.

In ways Patrice's goodbye was tougher than finding out about my ex-wife Kathy's infidelities. The only man who could take Patrice away was a twisted, depraved wimp who didn't deserve a woman like that. It was a long time before I was brave enough to date another woman.

Now, listening to similar words coming from Simone churned up those same fears.

"You are the most honest man I know, and I need to be honest with you," she said. "I love my husband. Despite everything that's happened between me and him, I married Vince and I intend to honor my vows. You and I have something special, but I don't want any misunderstandings. No matter what happens, I won't leave Vince. Not for you or anybody. Are we clear?"

My gut was twisting into knots waiting for her to give me the send-off. I wasn't sure I would survive a third heartbreak.

"I think so," I said. "I--"

"Good," she said and gave me a peck on the lips. Then she crawled over to her husband and straddled his six pack the same as she'd straddled my paunch.

"I love you, Vince. You just heard what I told Mike. You're my husband and I'm never leaving you. Part of my husband's duties is to take care of my children."

"Children?"

He and I looked at each other. We were equally perplexed. When they saw the doctor he'd checked Vince's sperm. Thanks to the steroids, they were twisted and misshapen. Practically zero chance of kids.

"That's right, children," Simone said. "Babies. Two at least. As many as Mike will give me."

My mouth dropped open at the same time as Vince's did. We looked at each other, equally stunned.

Simone was on a roll. "Here's the deal. In another few days I'll be fertile again. If my Daddy is willing, I will take all the sperm he'll give me for my eggs. Are you okay with that, baby?"

"Yes," he croaked, and she bent over her husband for a long, loving kiss.

They both turned to me. I could hardly speak for the knot in my throat and the grin that stretched from ear to ear.

"Daddy? You gonna let this sissy cuckold raise your kids?"

My eyes were getting blurry. My voice cracked.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," I said, and they both grinned. "That's what a sissy cuckold is supposed to do, isn't it? Raise his wife's children, no matter where they come from?"

Simone snorted. Vince lowered his eyes and color rose in his cheeks.

I said, "Besides I've heard faggots make the best nursemaids. We'll have to see him in a frilly apron to be sure."

Vince's face turned even more red. He was trying to hide his grin. His wife was snickering.

"Come here, you two," I said, opening my arms, and they both jumped into my arms for a group hug.

I was going to make a family!

* * *

Eighteen months later...

The steaks and potatoes were on the grill and the salad was in the fridge. Simone should be strolling through the door any minute to prep the asparagus.

The doorbell rang. Who the hell would it be coming to my front door this time on a Saturday evening? Another school candy sale? Surely it wasn't Simone. Why would she be coming through the front?

I opened the door. My breath caught in my throat.

A middle aged woman in a mustard gold, knee-length wrap stood on my doorstep. She looked thinner than I remembered. Her brown hair had gold highlights. It was longer and thicker than the last time I'd seen her. Except for the sultry, ruby red lipstick, her makeup was reserved. She was never a flashy woman.

"Patrice?"

She was rubbing the back of her hand with her thumb like she always did when she was nervous. Her soft, warm alto voice still had the same effect on me.

"Hello, Mike. Long time."

"What are you doing here?" No, that was wrong. I opened my arms. "Come here."

She rushed to me and we hugged like the old lovers we were. Her substantial breasts were crushed against my chest. I recalled hours of playing with those big puppies and their rosy teats.

She pulled back, her arms still around my waist, and looked up. I knew what she wanted. It was the same thing I wanted.

We kissed. Damn, that woman could kiss. Her lips were in constant motion just like they were when she wrapped them around my cock. Her tongue flicked teasingly at mine when I pushed it through. I felt the tension in her body ease as she surrendered to me and I rolled her back into my arms as if we were the stars of some cheesy romantic movie from the 40's.

My dick was twitching, searching for a way out of my jeans. I was glad I'd showered and swapped out the dirty old wife-beater I'd worn earlier.

I lifted Patrice back to her feet and she got a shy look as I checked her out.

"Damn, you're even more beautiful than I remember."

"You always did have a silver tongue," she said, but I could tell she appreciated it.

Some of the things I'd done with my 'silver tongue' came to mind. Then I remembered her husband. I looked past her out the open door, but didn't see anybody.

"Hank?"

A shadow came over her face. "You know how I promised Hank I'd never leave him for another man? He never made the same promise."

I closed the door, struggling to contain my joy.

"Another man?"

She nodded. "The divorce was final six months ago."

"Why did you wait so long to come find me?"

She looked away, then back. "I was so ashamed after what I did to you, and..." She looked around. Her lips pinched. "The house looks nice. Someone living with you?"

Behind me, I heard the glass patio doors in the den open.

"Daddy? My shoes are muddy. Can you come grab the pie?"

"Daddy?" Patrice lifted a brow.

"Come on, there's someone I want you to meet." I grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hall.

Simone was standing at the open patio door. For their anniversary last year I gave her and Vince the down payment for the house behind mine. The two yards shared about twenty feet of fence, and the previous night's rain had left a mess around the well-traveled gate we'd installed.

I took Vince's pie from Simone and handed it to Patrice. It looked like lemon chess. Once he started using sugar, butter, and other decadent foods, he became quite the chef.

"Patrice, this is my stepdaughter, Simone." I knelt to take off her muddy shoes. It was tough for her to bend over.

Simone said, "Wonderful to meet you, Patrice! Daddy told us so much about you."

"Stepdaughter? Did you marry again?" Patrice was trying to sound upbeat.

"I'm his ex-wife's daughter."

With her shoes off, I held Simone's hand to help her into the house. She flashed me a questioning glance and I winked.

"Ah, yes I remember hearing about her," Patrice said. "I don't think you ever mentioned a stepdaughter, Mike. Especially one so beautiful."

"I'm feeling pretty ugly these days," Simone said.

"Oh, no dear! You are absolutely gorgeous."

Yes, Simone was gorgeous again, head to toe. I discovered that one of the custom houses we were building belonged to a well-known plastic surgeon. Vince and I cut a deal with him. We worked whatever nights and weekends we could get free to build him a grandmother house to match the mansion under construction. The surgeon fixed Simone's scar. He was really good. Simone got a new hairdo that didn't hide her face. That was all the thanks I needed. She still insisted on showing her gratitude frequently. I suffered through it.

Patrice asked her, "How far along are you?"

"Six months," Simone rubbed her protruding belly. "This one's a girl. She's our second. My husband will be over with our boy in a few minutes."

"He must be a proud father," Patrice said.

"He's not the father. He's just the sissy cuckold. I get all my babies from my Daddy." She gave me a peck on the lips and a wink.

Patrice was gaping, her head swiveling back and forth between us.

I knew it was coming. It was all I could do to hold back the laugh. Simone knew enough about my relationship with Patrice and Hank to say things she wouldn't admit to most other people. I was sure she was getting a kick out of the stunned look on Patrice's face, too.

"Did your perverted husband come with you?" Simone asked Patrice.

That brought my older lover back to her senses. She smiled, catching onto Simone's humor.

"My ex-husband is no longer in the picture." She glanced at me.

"Oh?" Simone gave me a sidelong look, too.

"Here, I'll take that." I grabbed the pie and escaped to the kitchen, where I set the pie on the counter and went out the back door to check the grill.

A dozen emotions were tumbling in my chest. With my stepdaughter and our son, Little Mikey, practically next door, someone was here nearly all the time. My house was full of joy. I worked with Vince--he was now my concrete and bricklayer supervisor--and we all typically ate and shopped and watched TV together. I had a bed warmer--or two--at least four or five nights a week. It was a rare day when my balls didn't get emptied at least once.

Something was missing, however. Until Patrice showed up at my door I hadn't realized how much I needed a companion of my own. Someone to share the moments of my life, someone who would grow old with me. I wanted a wife.

The pain of Patrice choosing her worthless husband over me still gnawed at my gut. I knew why she did it, and I begrudgingly admired her integrity. It still broke my heart. I couldn't go through that again. If that's what she wanted, she was going to have to convince me she was all-in.

The steaks needed another five or ten minutes and the potatoes were nearly done. I went back inside to face my demons.

I guess I should have known better than to leave those two alone. When I returned to the den, they were on the sofa, and whatever they were talking about went suddenly silent. They were both looking at me with predatory grins.

Simone held her hand out to me. "Help me up, Daddy. I should go cook the asparagus."

I pulled her to her feet and she laid a short, but steamy kiss on me.

She placed her mouth by my ear and whispered. "Don't fuck this up."

The two women shared a secretive smile before Simone left for the kitchen. I was toast.

Patrice patted the sofa next to her. "Have a seat, Mike."

"I think I'll sit over here." I went to my glider.

"Suit yourself," Patrice said.

She rose from the sofa and came to the side of my glider, turned around and dropped her healthy bottom across my lap. I remembered spanking that lovely, round butt many times. She shimmied on my erection and it grew even harder.

"What's the chance we can pick up where we left off?" she said, her fingers playing in my hair.

I didn't say the first thing that was on my mind. It would have been so easy to just fall into bed with her. Things had changed, however. I had changed. I had a family now.

Patrice had changed, too. Physically, yes. Other ways too? What did she expect from me? What did I expect from her?

"You hurt me, Patrice."

"I know I did," she said. "I feel really bad about that. If it's any consolation, it tore me apart. I simply couldn't keep pretending that what we had was just for fun. It was either you or him. I keep my promises."

"Yeah, I know you do," I said. "Simone's the same way. That's one of the reasons I love her. Thanks to her husband, we found a way to make it work."

"She was telling me about your arrangement."

"Does it bother you that I'm making babies with a hot twenty-four year old?"

"Why should it bother me that you've found happiness? She's an incredible woman. She's beautiful and charming, and it's obvious she worships her 'daddy'."

"What makes you think I should take a chance on getting left behind again by somebody who already threw me to the curb?"

She winced. As soon as I said it I knew I'd let my mouth run away with me.

"You're right," she said, swinging her legs around and pushing herself up off my lap.

"Wait, Patrice." I got up to stop her. "I didn't mean--"

"No, you're right, Mike. I made a choice. I was an idiot. You have a great life here. You don't need me."

We both turned toward the thumping on the cedar patio as Vince opened the doors. He kicked off his muddy deck shoes and came in carrying a diaper bag with nine-month-old Little Mikey strapped to his chest.

"Hey, Daddy--whaddaya' think about building a walkway at the gate to keep--" He froze when he saw Patrice. "Oh, hi..."

I said, "Patrice, this is Vince. He's--"

"This must be cuck-boy and his wife's love-child." She had a sneer in her voice. She was well-versed in dealing with her depraved husband--and men like Vince. "Got your little pee-pee tucked in a cage?"

Vince gaped at her then at me. Humiliation was already creeping up his neck into his cheeks. We had caged his cock when we started making our daughter. He liked wearing the cage, said it made him feel more settled and calm. I hold the key and take it off for work and when I allow him to play.