You will need to read the earlier parts to understand the relationships in this story, although there are only three characters. You can find parts 1 & 2 in Loving Wives while Part 3 best fitted the Anal section. The earlier parts seem to have been well received, so I hope that you enjoy this continuation of the story.
If you are too lazy to go searching for Parts 1-3 and seem determined to read on straight away, I can tell you that 30 year old Martin was shattered by the death of his beloved – but nymphomaniac – wife in a car accident. He mopes around day by day, not going to work and wanking himself every night trying to match the sexual levels he enjoyed with his wife.
His friend John feels sympathy for him and encourages his own wife Deborah to give sexual satisfaction to Martin. She is reluctant, but also sympathetic to Martin's widowed plight, more so when she sees Martin's huge cock – not so enormously long but thick and wide. On her second time with Martin, John hides in a closet to watch the two together. After each encounter between Deborah and Martin, she finds that sex with her own husband John has become mind-blowing too.
Chapter 9
It would be another two days before Deborah's cunt was ready to receive John's loving again. But when it was, they certainly made up for lost time and they had full-on sex morning and night every day for the next week. Both acknowledged that their desire for each other was more intense because of her encounters with Martin.
As for Martin, he tried to call Deborah several times over the next week, but every time he got the voicemail. He left messages telling her he would like her to call him. She noticed that he never called at night when John would be there. Silently, she worried about the probability that he would want more one-on-one experiences with her despite her telling him that it would never happen again.
As for herself, despite her initial misgivings, she had truly loved the experience of having another man - with John's encouragement - and especially one with such a large cock too. But she knew that it would be dangerous for her to wish for more involvement with him. She loved John dearly and was grateful for the way that their own sex life had been revitalised after the two experiences with Martin.
John confirmed to Deborah that he had heard very little from Martin, just one or two calls, including cancelling their weekly golf game on the following Saturday morning. "It would be a shame if I have lost a friend over this," said John to Deborah one evening.
It was a Wednesday afternoon the week after, twelve days after the magic evening between Martin and Deborah with John watching. Life had returned to a more normal routine. Deborah arrived home around 3pm from shopping and lunch with two of her girlfriends.
They had been into the city rather than just hanging out in the local shopping mall, so Deborah had dressed up a bit for the occasion. She wore a fashionable pale green knitted top with long sleeves and a scooped neck that revealed some cleavage, teamed with a checked pattern skirt that reached just above knee length. Her brown high-heeled boots came to just above her shins and did what high heels traditionally do … pushed her bum out seductively. She looked great and she felt good.
As Deborah parked the car and walked up to her front door, she sensed a person approaching her house from behind her. She spun around and was surprised to see Martin, looking very casual in a tight white elasticised top that emphasised his abs and his muscular chest. He had teamed the top with fawn slacks. Deborah's first impression was how handsome he looked.
"Martin…" she sort of gulped his name out, being very surprised to see him here, at her house, during the day. "What are you doing here?"
"It seems to be the only way I can talk to you, I've left messages but you never return my calls."
"I … err … I'm sorry about that. It's just that I felt that we should cool it for a little while. You know, not see each other at all for a few weeks. After that amazing night, I thought that we needed to cool down … try to go back to just being good friends … you know, the three of us."
"You could have called me back to tell me that … but just not acknowledging me, after all that we did that night … well, it's just left me a bit flat. I'm close to relapsing back to the way I was after Mandy died."
Deborah look shocked and she reached out to touch his arm. "Oh God no, Martin. Don't do that, you can't slip back. That was a terrible period in your life and you've hopefully moved on."
"With your help and encouragement, I became much better. But I'm worried that I'm slipping back. I mean, I was living like a hermit, never going out, staying home and wanking every night. Then you came along and we had a couple of good nights, but now I've gone cold turkey for nearly two weeks. Deb, I'm clawing at the walls."
"I am not your long-term solution, Martin. I was just a hand and then a warm body to help you get back on your feet. I am very much in love with John, I can't continue to be there for you."
"Deb, I find myself thinking about you all day and night, how good you looked naked ... in your bed."
"Martin, you've got to get yourself your own woman and I know you can. Goodness me, you look so good now. You're hot, you should be able to move on and find a good woman."
"Hopefully I will, Deb, but that all takes time." He paused and looked around him. "Listen, can I come in, I really feel the need to talk to you."
Deborah was hesitant and she too looked around, checking her neighbours to see if anyone was watching them. "I guess so, Martin … just to talk, mind you."
"Yeah, sure Deb, just to talk. Thanks."
She turned and continued up the path to her front door and Martin walked about two or three paces behind her, watching her arse move seductively in front of him. She fitted the key in the door and opened it, walking through the front living room and tossing her packages on a chair without stopping. Her head half turned around to call back to him as she kept moving on through the dining room and kitchen, "Get us both a drink please, I'll just be a moment, Martin. You must excuse me, I'm busting to go to the toilet."
She almost broke into a run as her need to pee returned with a vengeance … she had first noticed the pressure in her bladder twenty minutes ago in the car while driving home. Talking to Martin in front of the house had momentarily distracted her, but now she was busting.
'Damn, too much wine over lunch,'
she thought to herself.
'I'll never make it upstairs, I'll have to use the downstairs toilet.'
She only just made it, doing her pelvic floor exercises while on the run, trying to hold back the flow as she hustled into the tiny downstairs toilet beside the laundry, casually pushing the sliding door partway closed. She grabbed the bottom hem of her skirt on each side and pulled it up so that it bunched around her waist, then slipping her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pulling them down to her knees.
She dropped backwards toward the toilet seat as her resistance gave and she felt her piss begin to flow, only just making it into the bowl as the backs of her thighs touched the seat, her bottom hovering over the gap. "Oh, too close for comfort," she said aloud to herself as the sound of her urine tinkled into the bowl.
"You made it, that's good!" The male voice startled her and she looked up inside the tiny room to see Martin's face looking directly at her through the gap in the sliding door that she had not had time to close.
"Oh come on Martin … fair's fair. Just give me some privacy and go and make those drinks please." There was anger in her voice as she saw his eyes look down at her indelicate feminine position above the seat.
"You are even sexier when you're angry, I love it."
"Get out Martin. For God's sake, is nothing sacred? Just leave me to pee in peace please."
"Deborah, you are a hot woman, even when you're squatting on the toilet."
"Will you just get out … let me do this in private."
But instead of leaving, he pushed the door fully open and stepped inside the tiny room, standing immediately in front of her, putting her at eye level with his crotch. Deborah could see the prominent bulge in his trousers. Immediately, the memories of that fabulous night came flooding back, recalling for her an image of his monstrous cock, the one that had brought her such pleasure for several hours less than two weeks ago.
Martin saw where she was looking and correctly guessed what she might be thinking. "Are you picturing the good time you had with my big cock, Deb?"
"Please don't do this, Martin. I said we would just talk."
"I need you, Deb … I need you badly … I need you now."
"No Martin, it's not going to happen. Please get out." Her voice was raised.
"John cannot give you this size Deb," he said as his hand went to the bulge in his trousers and he adjusted it so that the length of his stiff erection ran up inside his trousers, the prominent bulge reaching all the way to his belt buckle. Her eyes widened. "Should I take it out, Deb, or will you?"
"For Christ's sake, stop it, Martin. No one's going to take it out. Just get out of here this minute and let me do what I have to do in peace." Her flow now finished, she rose angrily, nearly pushing him over and he fell back toward the open doorway. She turned around and reached for the toilet paper, only to find an empty roll. "Shit!" she exclaimed, looking around anxiously to see if there was a replacement roll anywhere in the tiny room.
Martin reached into his pocket and took out a clean, folded handkerchief. Holding it up in front of her, he asked, "Will this do?"
She gave him a look of contempt, but before she could take evasive action, his hand holding the hankie darted down and reaching between her upper thighs, he wiped it once from back to front across her mound, soaking up any residual drops.
"My God, how embarrassing!" Her face flushed crimson and she resignedly reached down and pulled her panties back up, then pushed her skirt back down to cover her thighs, all the time avoiding eye contact with him.
Martin just chuckled and tucked his handkerchief back into his pocket. Deborah stuck her hand out, "Give me that, I'll wash it for you."
"No way," Martin told her. "It will have your scent on it, I'll treasure that since I can't have you."
Seeing that she was finished and dressed again, Martin turned, pushing the door open wide and headed back in the direction of the living room. "I'll make those drinks now," he called to her over his shoulder.
Deborah followed him into the living room and waited patiently while he mixed up a couple of drinks and handed one to her. "So why aren't you at work?" she asked.
She sat down in a single chair, not wanting him to have the chance to sit alongside her and he selected the three-seater lounge. Deborah crossed one leg over the other, but the skirt was long enough that she didn't reveal too much of her thighs.
"I had a couple of things to do this morning with my solicitor. You know, legal stuff to do with Mandy's death and her will and all."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I was just curious why you are dressed so casually on what would normally be a work day for you."
"Since I had lost so much time this morning, I decided it wasn't worth going in for half a day. I hadn't heard from you despite leaving a lot of messages so I figured I'd just call around to see if we can talk it out."
"Have you been waiting long for me?"
