Melanie gasped, but didn't overtly protest, which is when I knew I had her. "He wants to do what?" she asked, a bit of disbelief in her tone.
The situation probably did seem a bit surreal to her. After all, here I was, the 19-year-old trophy wife (let's say Heather Smith, for those interested) proclaiming that I had an open relationship with my 35-year-old millionaire venture capitalist hubby Michael. Whether this was true or not (and it wasn't), the key was making Melanie believe it was possible.
I nodded, speaking, my lips making a little pink O complete with diamond-shine gloss. "You wouldn't believe the nasty things he wants us to do with him!!!" My little girl voice lowered, just above a whisper as I continue after seeing the glow in her eyes. "He said he wants to bust open that cute button ass of yours and then have me lick the cum out as shoves his cock down your throat, choking you!"
A deep crimson color on her face, but no protesting, just the reaction I was looking for. The hue of her face matched her hair, currently in a long ponytail resting down her back. Sorry to disappoint, but Melanie was not ridiculously hot (unlike me). Cute, attractive, young (26) but not a sexually charged goddess. Small, curvy breasts could be seen poking through her simple white blouse, and her butt was indeed a nice plump piece of meat lurking behind a knee-length grey skirt. Perfect for the sort of "young hip mom" stereotype seen in Hollywood, but leaving something to be desired if the role called for a sex bomb.
I, on the other hand, am absolutely gorgeous. A difference of 16 years between spouses normally doesn't mean a great amount of philosophical bantering on the meaning of life. No, I had simply crammed every inch of my lean 5'11" volleyball frame into the skimpiest piece of felt I could find, secured fake ID and hit up every executive hangout on the strip until I could find someone to bankroll my considerable assests (pun intended). A zestful eagerness and a silicon-free 32C separated me from the throngs of other flirts vying for attention.
I digress though. I continued my whispering to Melanie, giggling just a bit for emphasis. "Oh honey don't be embarrassed, we both think you're sooooo cute!" I place my hand on top of hers, moving both to her knee, which was still covered by the skirt. I moved up on the couch just a bit, causing my black spaghetti thong to wedge delightfully further into my ass. My little green athletic shorts also bunched up just below the curve of my ass cheeks, and I made no effort to correct such a "problem."
Melanie didn't speak for a moment, looking down at her two inch black platform sandals she wore to compensate for her natural height of 5'1". When she finally did, it was in a soft voice. "You and Mr. Smith really want to do all those nasty things to me...?" She trailed off a bit, too frightened to allow her mind to wander fully. She clenched my hand tighter though, the other hand trying desperately to appear nonchalant by twirling her ponytail.
She wouldn't escape from my trap by feigning non-interest. "Oh yeesssss Melanie, we've talked about it for soooooo long!" I pout, my voice sad yet defiant like a child's. "I've seen all those naughty glances you give him and I feel soooo bad for you!" My other hand moves in for the kill, my fingertips gently rubbing across the skin of her back. "I know how good it feels to have him buried soooo deep in my butt, my ass cheeks choking on his cock, milking it, feeling him blast cum for minutes! Oh goddddd it feels incredible and I'd NEVER deny another woman that opportunity!"
Hooked. Her hand squeezed mine so tight I thought it would pop off as I described the (imagined) details of our sex life. There was no reason for moderation now. "Mr. Smith is soooo raw and brutal too! He always says he wants to hear my little girl voice cry and scream out otherwise he won't fuck me anymore!" I make a pouting face, moving silently behind Melanie, my legs wrapping around her. "I just want him to cum inside my little cunnie so we can have a baby, but he's sooooo mean! He shoves his big, thick, nasty cock down my mouth after it's been deep in my butt!"
I squeeze my legs tightly, pressing my hot, moistening crotch into Melanie. Whispering, "Ooooo it makes me tingle just to THINK about it! He makes me do such NASTY things I would never do otherwise! He makes me suck his cock clean as I'm choking on his jizz!" I shiver, on purpose, although it doesn't take much imagination given the raunchy scene I just described.
Her voice comes out a bit ragged, her hands playing along my muscular calves. "T-that does sound a bit crazy... But..." (I don't know for sure, not being able to see her face, but I bet she bit her lip at this pause.) "... I bet it feels incredible..." Her hands start to massage, firm, powerful strokes, the reaction I was hoping to elicit from her.
I whimper. "oooo It's like a DRUG! I miss it sooooo much when he's not here, no matter how many new dildos and vibes I try!" Pouting yet again, I lay my head on Melanie's shoulder so I can speak directly into her ear, my hands now curled around her and resting on the tops of her thighs. "He punishes my round little slut bum, spanking me, pulling my hair, and he wants to do the same to you soooo badly! He screams out your name when he fucks me now, saying I'm not good enough."
