A Very Distracting Wife

"Tell me again why we're doing this?"

My husband looked at me for a moment, and then leaned in close. I could see his face better, now; the street lights and porch lights on the house in whose driveway we'd just arrived didn't do much for the inside of our parked car. Proximity helped.

"You know why." He cast a nervous look at the large house.

I shrugged. "Yes, I know why, but I'm still not sure this is a good idea." He swiveled his head towards me, eyes widening. "Convince me."

He grunted in annoyance. "This is stupid." After a moment of silence, he sighed heavily and continued. "Those pictures we took of you... of us... last week were on my tablet, and I left it in my boss's office this afternoon." His hands fidgeted nervously in his lap. "We just came from there and didn't find it, so he must have taken it home."

I remembered that night. Sexy poses and lingerie, ending up with some POV pics as we concluded the festivities. It was fun at the time, but now it didn't seem like such a good idea.

He pointed at the house. "So unless you want Roger looking at pictures of you naked, of us fucking, and maybe posting them on the internet, we need to get that tablet back."

A thought occurred to me. "He doesn't know the password, right? So how can he log in to it?" Mike didn't say anything, his eyes focusing downward on his suddenly still hands. "You... do use a password to log in, right?" Mike shook his head slowly.

"Damn it, Mike!" He hadn't mentioned that before. "What kind of idiot doesn't password protect his tablet?"

He glared at me. "I made a mistake, all right?" He shifted in his seat to turn more towards me. "Can we just get this over with?"

"Well, why can't I sneak in and look for it while you keep him and his wife busy?"

"Have you ever been in his house," Mike countered, "do you know where his study is?"

I sighed. "No." I fought it for a moment more, then acquiesced. "Okay, you sneak in the back, and I'll keep them busy in the living room." I hefted the packet we'd brought, eighteen pages of bureaucratic forms required by the City's sports league. "I'll try to get him to sponsor Samantha's soccer team. Filling these out should take a while."

"Right." Mike kissed me on the cheek, then opened the door. "Try to give me at least fifteen or twenty minutes. I'll text you when I find it." And with that he was gone into the darkness, the closing door sounding very loud in the suddenly empty car.

The walk to the front door wasn't long, but it seemed so. The cool night air pebbled the skin on my arms. Bracing myself for a moment, I smoothed the strapless sun dress I was wearing of imaginary wrinkles, and then rang the doorbell. It opened far sooner than I wanted it to.

Roger opened the door, his trim, athletic body dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. No shoes. He looked puzzled.

"Can I help you?"

I stuck out my hand. "I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Sandy, Mike's wife."

Recognition dawned on his face. "Oh, yes, we've met a few times." We shook hands in greeting.

I nodded. "Do you and your wife have a few minutes to spare?"

He stepped back and to one side. "Certainly." I entered and headed in the direction he indicated as he closed the door and followed behind me. The living room was a spacious one, and I couldn't help jealously comparing it to ours at home. Wow. The flat screen was huge and was easily visible from either of the two recliners, as well as the couch.

He indicated the couch, and I sat down as he headed towards a small bar against the wall near the TV.

"I'm afraid Cynthia isn't here tonight; she's visiting her mother and won't be back until tomorrow afternoon." He poured himself a drink and cast a glance at me. "Would you like anything?"

I demurred. "No, thank you."

He crossed to the recliner nearest me and sat, placing his whiskey on the table near his right hand.

"Now, what can I do for you?"

I was still nervous, but I launched into my spiel.

"Samantha... our daughter... plays soccer in the city league, but their normal sponsor said he may not sponsor them this year. Mike mentioned that you've sponsored some teams in the past, so I figured I'd ask if you'd be willing to do it again."

He nodded slowly. "Yes, we've sponsored teams before, mainly boy's baseball. We've never done the girl's soccer bit." He glanced at the papers in my hand. "Are those the forms I'd have to fill out?"

I nodded. He picked up his glass, took a large swig of whiskey, then set it back down and crossed to the couch. He sat down at the far end and held out his hand. As I passed the papers to him, my phone bleeped.

I shrugged in embarrassment. "Text message. Let me check that real quick." He glanced at me once, then began reading the papers I'd handed him.

The text was from Mike.

"I'm upstairs. Keep him busy. Remember, if he finds me in his house, I'll probably get fired. Thanks!"

Asshole.

I locked the phone and placed it on the end table, then looked back up. At some point, Roger had shifted position and was now sitting next to me, still looking at the papers. His knee brushed mine lightly.

"Well," he said after a while, looking up at me with a serious glint in his eye, "these look in order, but I'm not positive it's something I really want to do at this juncture."

I looked disappointed, pouting my lips just a little. "Really?"

He placed the papers on the coffee table, then slid closer and put one hand on my knee. "Convince me." With that, he kissed me.

I was too shocked to move immediately, and he must have taken that as encouragement, as he moved even closer, and I felt one hand gently cupping the back of my head.

Now, Mike and I have been married for almost ten years, and we've never been fans of open marriages. Oh, he wasn't my first, not by any means, but he was most definitely my last. So I was out of practice at responding to this kind of thing.

My first impulse was to respond angrily and push him away, but then I remembered Mike. He was upstairs trying to find that stupid tablet, and if I left in a huff he'd likely be caught and fired. And this amorous asshole would be left with all those pictures.

I needed to keep him busy... but this?

Roger took full advantage of my uncertainty, his hand sliding slowly and sensuously down my leg, and I could feel his tongue flicking lightly against my lips, requesting entrance.

He was a good kisser, and I bet he'd be even better if I... no, this wasn't the way.

I raised my hands up and pushed them against his chest. He was too strong for me to totally break away, but I did manage to pull my head back. Instead of pausing or looking at me, he shifted immediately and began nibbling on the side of my neck.

I loved that, was a real sucker for it, and a pleasant tingling began to spread down my neck.

"Please, Roger," I objected. "We're both married."

I know, it's the cliché response, but I was getting a little flustered at that point. His left hand was lightly stroking my calf, while the other was lightly brushing my ear lobes. I don't know how he knew, but he was hitting all my sensitive, foreplay spots.

I pushed harder against his chest. He stopped nibbling my neck and looked me in the eye. Instead of answering, as I expected, he kissed me again, pressing me back harder into the couch as he did so.

Startled as I was, I made a fatal mistake, and my lips parted slightly in surprise. His tongue took full advantage, dancing in and exploring my mouth, pressing gently against my tongue. I was being frenched by an expert, and my tongue responded automatically, pressing back and even darting into his mouth. The taste of the whiskey he'd been drinking tantalized me, as he thrust his tongue deep into my mouth, causing me to suck on it as it withdrew. I was shocked at myself, and recognized the growing warmth that was beginning to spread through my body.

I tried to sit up. This was ridiculous. No matter what Mike needed, I wasn't going to...

At that moment I realized that Roger's hand was no longer gently caressing my calf, but had in fact wandered upwards and was... the pressure of his fingers against my crotch sent an electric shock of pleasure through my body. My hips reflexively pressed back against his hand, and he responded by rubbing harder. I felt myself becoming wet.

"No, no," I mumbled against his mouth, even as my hips bucked gently again towards his hand.

The pressure relaxed, and then I felt his finger press against the edges of my panties where they covered my crotch, sliding under, and his questing fingers touched flesh for the first time.

Instead of dipping directly into my pussy, he slid the edge of his hand perpendicular to it, insinuating his index finger between my lips, and sliding them gently up and down.

My juices flowed even more, feeling like they were actually squirting from a faucet, and the jolt of pleasure blanked my mind. My head twisted to the side, freeing my mouth from his questing tongue, but instead of renewing my objections I heard myself hissing in pleasure.

"Yesssssssss!!" His head dipped downwards and he resumed nibbling on my neck. His right hand was caressing my shoulder, now, and I was beginning to breathe heavily. I could feel his saliva on my skin, taste the smoky flavor of the whiskey he'd left behind. My head was spinning, and I found it impossible to think coherently.

His other hand slid down to the side of my chest and rubbed downwards. I felt tugging, and realized that his fingers had curled around the top of my strapless sundress. Though I couldn't see it, I pictured in my mind's eye the floral patterned fabric sliding down my smooth skin, felt it catch slightly when it reached my nipples, and then popping free and sliding down even further. I felt air brush against my suddenly bare breasts.

His head shifted again, sliding downwards, and I felt his eager lips latch onto one nipple. Like a child, he suckled hungrily at my breasts. New pleasure flared outwards, and my hips squirmed in response.

His left hand shifted again, fingers curling around the elastic of my panties, tugging gently but insistently downwards. Pleasure was roaring through my body like a runaway freight train, and without thinking I lifted my hips slightly. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

The sensation of the rougher fabric of my panties scraping its way down my legs shocked me back to my senses. Well, at least a little. My eyes, which had closed as I reveled in the sensations sweeping my body, snapped open. I opened my mouth to put a stop to this, and Mike's job be damned.

Roger shifted his head, latching on to my other nipple and sucking heartily. He nibbled it a bit, sending tiny jolts of intense pleasure lancing though my chest. Then he latched on with his soft lips and squeezed, gently at first and then really clamping down. This time the jolt was electric, and lanced from my nipple straight down to my soaking wet pussy.

At the same time, I felt a finger probing gently at my lips, and then sliding easily inside.

All thoughts of stopping fled under the onslaught of pleasure. To hell with Mike, the careless asshole... I was alive with the moment, loving the feel of his lips on my nipple, clamping down and bringing pleasure mixed with pain.

He began to finger fuck my pussy, slowly at first, then picking up the pace. Every few thrusts he'd pause and crook his finger, bringing it into contact with my g-spot. He'd massage it gently two or three times, then finger fuck me some more.

I was afire with lust. I bucked my hips back against his talented finger, gasping with desire as sweat poured down my face. I grabbed his head with both hands, forcing his lips away from my nipple, and, taking the imitative for the first time, I pulled him to me and plastered my lips to his. My tongue jabbed erratically against his, and I moaned against his mouth.

He broke away, kissing my neck as his body pulled back slightly, his hands leaving my body while his lips and tongue made love to the nape of my neck. I mewled in objection as his finger, that oh-so-talented finger, slid out of my pussy, leaving me feeling empty and frustrated.

And my phone chirped with another incoming text message.

"Check it," Roger said roughly, pulling his mouth away long enough to speak, then sliding down and clamping his lips onto a nipple again.

For a moment I couldn't move, then fumbled for the phone, almost knocking it to the floor. It took me two tries to enter the password, but I finally did get it. Roger's hands slid under my thighs, wrapped around my hips, and pulled me forward. I was now reclining, my sundress pulled down below my breasts and bunched up above my hips, my crotch on the edge of the cushion.

The text was from Mike, of course.

Roger's hands touched the insides of my thighs, spreading my legs wide.

"Can't find it in his library. Checking his bedroom now. Thanks, hon."

Asshole.

Roger's head left my nipple, and he was kissing me again, both hands massaging a breast, flicking the nipples. I kissed him back eagerly, my hips squirming furiously at his inattention. I wanted that finger back, damn it.

Then my breasts were left alone to dangle in the cool air, and I felt his finger come back, teasing me by rubbing around my pussy lips, dipping lightly but not actually entering me.

I bucked my hips harder, whimpering in frustration. "Please, please," I begged. The words sounded wetly into his mouth, and he slowly shoved his finger in.

"Oh, god!" Wrenching my head away, I buried my face in his neck as I felt my pussy lips stretching around his finger. The sensation of his finger sliding against my pussy walls was almost overwhelming. Or two fingers, it had to be at least two, because my lips were really stretching, and...

Then I realized what was happening. Opening my eyes and looking down, I said perhaps the stupidest thing I've ever said in my life.

"When did you take your pants off?"

And then he was inside me, his penis buried into my pussy to the hilt, his sweating, lust-filled eyes staring deeply into mine.

"Does it matter?"

I reflected briefly, VERY briefly, and shook my head slightly as I bit my lower lip. "No." I ran my hands over his face lightly, teasingly, then grabbed his shoulders. "Just fuck me, damn it!"

He complied.

I felt his penis sliding out of me, inch by inch, every movement feeling incredibly good, until he was almost completely out and only the very tip rested just inside my pussy.

I looked down between us; I just HAD to see this thing that was about to take what should only be given to my husband. His penis, glistening wetly with my pussy juices, was about the same length as Mike's, but Jesus, was it thick. No WONDER my pussy lips felt stretched.

Roger slid his hands under my knees, lifting and spreading them as he placed his hands on the couch, kneeling on the floor and leaning into me. My legs dangled limply to either side of him, a rather absurd position that bothered me not in the slightest. An irrelevant thought flashed through my mind.

"I'm still wearing my sandals."

The thought vanished when he slid back inside me in one, fast motion. I gasped, gripping his biceps tightly as I lay there, willingly trapped under his body and waiting for him to fuck me silly.

He complied.

He didn't start slowly, or anything sexy like that. Further foreplay simply wasn't needed, I was so wet. Instead he started fucking me hard and fast, slamming into me so hard that I could feel his balls slapping against my upturned ass cheeks.

This wasn't making love. There wasn't any give and take. I was pinned into position and lacked the ability to do so much as thrust my hips into his pistoning pelvis. He was fucking me, pure and simple, and all I could do was lie back and enjoy it.

And enjoy it I did. I used my pussy muscles to grip his dick firmly, and saw from the expression on his face that he appreciated it. Leaning in, he licked my left nipple, wrapped his lips around it, and then did something completely unexpected. He bit it.

This wasn't a gentle nibble, and he didn't clamp down with his lips this time. He put his teeth around my nipple and bit it. My eyes opened in shock as the mixed pain/pleasure shot through my already aroused body.

My first orgasm of the night ripped through me with all the gentleness of a cat 5 hurricane, and I threw my head back against the pillow, eyes tightly clenched, and howled a wordless cry of pleasure.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

My legs trembled with the strength of it, and my body shook with delirious delight. He continued to thrust into me as I came, licking and sucking the now swollen nipple he'd just bitten.

As my orgasm subsided, he leaned in and kissed me again, I wrapped my arms around him, whimpering with lust as I used my tongue to fuck his mouth like he was fucking my pussy.

He began nibbling my neck again, eventually latching on like an eel to suck furiously on my neck. Hickey, something said in the back of my mind, but I didn't care. Instead, I began rambling incoherently as his thick ramrod of a dick continued to fuck me silly.

"Oh God, just keep doing... oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit! Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME!!" I buried my head in his shoulder and trembled with the intensity of it all.

Roger finished his hickey, and moved to nibble on my ear.

"Where is he?" he breathed softly.

"Unh... unh... unh," I responded in time with his thrusts. Which, all things considered, was doing pretty good.

"Where is Mike?" he asked again, still thrusting his cock into my quivering pussy with mechanical precision.

It sunk in, what he was saying, and I tried to lie, I really did. But YOU try lying right after an orgasm and halfway to another.

"He's up... oh, my god... upstairs. Eeek. Upstairs!" The last came out in a squeak, and I grabbed him tightly and held on as my second orgasm ripped through me, shaking me like a terrier with a rat.

As I enjoyed this orgasm, Roger continued to talk. His words, still whispered wetly into my ear, were spaced rhythmically as he thrust his dick into me. We rocked back in forth on the couch as I did my dead level best to understand what he was saying.

"I enjoyed those pictures of you. Especially the one Mike took of his dick lodged in your hairy pussy, my dear." He grunted in my ear as he bottomed out. "And you have such lovely lingerie... I'd love to see you wearing it, in person, some day."

A distant alarm bell rang in my mind, but it was more than silenced by the dick that was fucking me so well.

"Too bad Mike won't find that tablet... he's probably looking upstairs in my library while you distract me, yes?"

Oh, shit.

"He won't find it." I felt his weight shift on me as he lifted one hand. "It's down here." Something rubbed against my pussy lips as he fucked in and out of me; what was he doing? And then the extra pressure was gone and he took his thumb, newly lubricated with my own pussy juices, and shoved it up my ass.

"HOLY SHIT!!"

And I came for a third time.

It wasn't as big as the first two, and it ebbed and flowed with the motions of his dick and thumb as he slid them in and out of me. I was also trying to mull over what he had said, difficult as that was proving to be.

I wasn't just fucked, I was double fucked.

So to speak.

When I came down from my orgasm, I felt very relaxed and filled with a great lassitude.

"So, what now? Will you give us back the tablet?" Sweat ran down my face, dripping onto my reddened and tender nipples as he stopped fucking me. That is, he stopped fucking my pussy. His thumb continued to distract me by plunging in and out of my asshole.

"Hmmm." He appeared to think about it. "Yes. Yes, I think I will."

Elated, I smiled, a tentative smile, one totally out of place in the current situation. I mean, his cock was in my pussy and his thumb in my ass, and I give him a shy smile?