Friends are the glue that holds the fabric of our lives together.
That being said this story is about a wife cheating with her lesbian lover with whom she has torrid, rapturous sex daily. Can this marriage be saved?
I put this in the Loving Wives category because Catie loves Michael too.
Comments invited.
Rodryder44
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My name is Catherine Rogers. I like being called Catie. I'm 24 years old, 5'10" tall, and 125 pounds with curly black hair extending five inches below my shoulders. I have big blue eyes that I feel are expressive. I have 36C breasts with puffy pink areolae, and nipples that stand out ¾ of an inch when aroused. My waist is narrow accentuating my peach bottom ass. My legs are long and well proportioned. I'm a third grade elementary school teacher. I like gold and fine jewelry.
I never expected to feel this way again; being so in love with a wonderful person. My soul mate, confidant, and fantastic lover with whom I want to spend the rest of my life. We take walks around town in the rain. Visit museums, little antique shops, and coin shows. I would sextext pictures of my fingers in my pussy to excite and tease, nothing was taboo and my libido seemed to have no bounds.
The problem is I think my husband is jealous of my lover.
Gail Matthews is 25 years old, 5'9" tall, and 125 pounds with long auburn hair. Her blue eyes are like a pool of water that I want to float in. High cheekbones have a slightly olive skin tone inherited from her Sicilian mother. She has 38D breasts with dark areolas, and cute nipples. Gail teaches at the same school. She likes antiques. I cannot explain why I get all wet when I catch sight of her.
My husband Michael is 28, and 6' 1" 185 pounds on a good frame with chiseled abs and a 9" cock. He's a reinsurance underwriter tasked with assuming risks of other insurance companies helping their solvency. I don't understand his job, but Gail says it's a good profession. He wants a yacht. No-fucking-way! He doesn't excite me anymore the way Gail does.
It may sound funny, but I was 'the girl next door'. Michael and I grew up together but for the 4 year age difference. It wasn't until I turned 13, and started developing huge tits with my hormones kicking in that I fell in love with Michael, then a junior in high school.
He has a sister, Debbie, my age, who kept me informed of anything 'Michael'. His mother was my other 'inside girl' to whom I routinely expressed undying love for her son. She later told me, as my mother-in-law, that she thought my infatuation with Michael at 13 was 'sweet'. My persistence earned her respect.
He only saw me as his sister's playmate. Even my getting-bigger-every-day boobs didn't seem to affect him.
Michael was always doing something in high school. There was track, basketball, the drafting club, scouting and sailing. He was an Eagle Scout and looked very handsome in his dark green uniform. I would attend any event he was involved with that was open to the public just to watch him. I dragged his sister along so it wouldn't seem like I was stalking him.
As he aged he started bringing girls home to infuriate Debbie and me. How could my knight in shining armor see anything in those 'bimbos'?
Then I turned 18 and, finally, was 'old enough.' Michael was now out of college sowing his oats among flocks of females. Debbie would sneak me in the house and we'd hide near the room where he 'entertained' his dates.
Debbie and I would listen to the conversation which usually went like this: "I'm not that kind of girl", "Well, maybe this one time", "It's so big", "Do like to play with my pussy (breasts, clit, ass, etc)?", "I'm afraid to go all the way."
I owe a debt of gratitude to those bimbos for revealing exactly what Michael wanted: a piece of ass, and everything else. I just had to find the proper net to catch him with so he would notice me.
I read Cosmopolitan because it provided 'What Men Want' articles, and helped me design my perfect hunting outfit: a tight wife-beater top, modified Daisy Dukes shorts with the crotch just about gone, and 5 inch fuck-me heels. I liked the Farah Fawcett tousled hair look and wore that style constantly during my 'manhunt' period.
I vividly recalled he liked blow-jobs so I read all the articles about pleasuring a penis. With his sister's assistance I practiced with dildos and bananas until I could get large ones in my throat without gagging.
My outfit was always nearby. I was just waiting for fate to intervene and align a few stars in my favor.
Fate came to me one May night when I was 20 and a college sophomore. Debbie called my cell to tell me her mother sent Michael to the store for snacks, and that he would be home tonight, alone.
I said I would be right over, and ran to get my outfit and stripped and dressed in under a minute. I had just showered so I knew I was ready for anything. I sprayed some Obsession on for good luck, grabbed my iPhone and ran next door in my five inch heels.
Michael's mom was in the kitchen when I confidently strolled in. Debbie and her mom both shrieked at my outfit. Her mom said that Michael didn't stand a chance, and that she would make certain to stay upstairs with her husband. She gave me a kiss and said, "good hunting, honey".
Debbie and I went into the TV room to bait my trap. We were seated on the sofa watching 'Chicago PD' when Michael came in at 9:45. He always watches the news from 10:00 PM until 11:30. He sat in the chair across from us. We were seated with our feet on the sofa, knees together. Exactly five minutes after he came in the room Deb left without saying a word. She doubled around and was in the next room listening in.
At 10 PM I turned on the news station to Michael's surprise.
"Are you a news junkie?" he asked.
I cast my line, "I try to be." I explained while opening my legs and stretching my arms.
A strike! His eyes were bulging out on pegs, his mouth wide open. His eyes went first to my cunt when I scratched my crotch. I had to catch him, no matter what. Then he saw my areolas and nipples through my top as I expanded my chest.
His cock made a tent in his Madras shorts.
He didn't say anything, so I said: "Would you like me to help you with that?" in my best sultry voice and put a finger in my mouth for effect.
He was next to me in a second.
I then set the hook deep. I threw my arms around him and gave him a million dollar kiss that I'm betting he never had before. He's feeling my boobs so I take off my top and let him hold them.
I said, "Let me take care of that big cock." I pushed him backwards on the sofa and quickly unbuttoned his shorts, making him raise his ass so I could pull them off. His cock looked magnificent; nine fucking inches with a big purple helmet and thick, manly veins.
Recalling my Cosmopolitan instructions, I gave him 'The Blow Job'. He's watching my mouth and can't help but notice my girls hanging down to his thighs.
I lick it slowly him all around the head.
Then lick up and down its length.