We hurried to the car, parked a few blocks away. Lisa was matching my brisk pace as we silently powerwalked down the sidewalk. I think we were both glad of Brunder's prohibition against talking at that moment. What could either of us say after that?
And it was a constant, silent reminder of what we were ordered to do - to go home and fuck.
As we settled into the car, I glanced at Lisa a moment. She returned my look, and I could tell she was as eager to get to it as I was. I started the engine and I mustered as much attention as I could for the task of driving us home. She got a text, and had a brief exchange, then shut her phone off without sharing it. I could feel her suddenly studying me. When we pulled into the driveway, Lisa reached over and hit the garage door opener and the door started shuddering up. I looked at her. Why did she do that? It was precious seconds wasted - I could have parked in the driveway. She never does that.
I drove into our garage and hit the button to close the door again and it started shuddering noisily down again as I got out of the car. Lisa got out too, but stayed by her door. I already had my hand on the door to the house, and waited for her - what was she doing?
Please don't be fucking crying,
I thought.
You cry after we fuck - you owe me this.
But she looked up at me with her sexy eyes, wordlessly, motionless, maybe a little nervous. She had her hand on the latch of her door. Then I understood.
I hesitated. I didn't know how to feel. I only knew I wanted to do it, but I didn't want to acknowledge it. Not to her, anyway - I didn't want her to misinterpret me, and think she been absolved, forgiven, or, worst of all, given permission.
Of its own accord, my hand dropped from the doorknob and I felt myself walking over to her, the garage door still making its noisy, clumsy progress down. I stood behind her a moment, and she waited with her back to me. I put my hand on hers just as the door slammed shut and went silent. I pressed my body against her, and she held her ass firm against my hard on. She turned her head and looked at me, waiting, expressionless.
I pressed my lips against hers, they were swollen and soft with her arousal. As we kissed, she turned her body to me and put her arms around my neck. I put a hand against her breast and rubbed her hard, swollen nipple through the fabric with my thumb and she sighed hot breath into my mouth, and then her hands slid down to my ass, pulling me against her, grinding crotch slightly against mine. I slid a hand up her skirt and cupped the hot, soaking wet mound of her pussy and then down into the waistband, impatient to feel her. My fingers slid as if pulled by a magnetic force down the slick channel between her labia and into her. She bit my neck as I finger fucked her a moment and then she pushed me off her, grabbing my shirt-front to push me against the car. Now that she had me against the car, she rubbed my cock through my pants as we kissed again. I moaned.
She had told me, and Brunder, exactly what she had done with... with her lover that first time.
This.
She broke off the kiss, still rubbing me, now looking me in the eye, studying me wordlessly. I swallowed hard.
We maintained eye contact as she undid my buckle. She paused a moment, lingering, and then undid the button and fly and let my pants drop. She looked down and saw the wet spot on my underwear where my nob was straining against the fabric, and gave me a little smile. She lowered my underwear a little to free the top half of my cock and rubbed the end of it - I moaned in gratitude and prayed that I wouldn't cum immediately.
She lowered my underwear down below my balls and stroked the length of me, kissing me again, with an eager tongue. She stopped after a couple of strokes and then held my gaze as she slowly lowered herself, pulling my underwear down to my ankles. I looked down at her, squatting before me, her face at a level with my throbbing cock, and taking it in her hand to stroke it some more, still looking me in the eye. Just as she had her lover. And I had the same view of my wife that her lover had, with her hot breath tantalizing against the skin on my cock. She closed her eyes and sucked one of my testicles into her mouth as she stroked me.
"Oh fuck," I moaned.
She had done this to another man. She had made him feel this way, with her mouth, her hand, her sluttiness.
After giving some tender treatment to both my testicles, she slid her tongue up the underside of my cock. I swore again, and she gave me a little laugh. Holding my eyes, stroking me, she licked my nob a little, and then paused, then, still watching me, parted her lips and put my cock into her mouth.
As I watched her, I imaged her lips firmly around not mine but her lover's huge cock as worked her mouth up and down his shaft, slick with her spit, her hand stroking it while she blew him. Of course, she'd have been able to give him longer strokes. Her eyes were still on mine, seeming to say,
This is what I did, baby. This is how I sucked his big, sexy cock
.
I held on as long as I could, savouring the torturous ecstacy of watching my wife recreate her enthusiastically adulterous blow-job, but I could feel I was about to cum. I grabbed her shoulders, cuing her to stand. She did so, and stroked me as we started kissing again. I put my hand on hers to stop her from stroking me so that I didn't cum right then - we weren't done. She giggled in my mouth, her hand holding my cock but no longer stroking it.
She broke off the kiss, and looked at me, waiting. Remembering the story, I opened the back door of the car.
She waited for me to say something, to recite my line. His line.
Get it the back and lie down.
I didn't.
Finally, she got in without saying her lines either.
I can't fuck you. I'm married.
I followed her in, getting between her legs, sliding her skirt up so that she was naked except for her shoe and panties below the waist. I kissed her inner thigh as we looked at each other. She shot her eyes quickly down at her panties, and I took the cue, grabbing the waist band and slowly pulling them down, as she obligingly lifted her ass of the seat to allow it.
Then she was exposed, her pussy there before me - as it had been for him. Wet and glistening, the labia spread in readiness, exposing her opening and clit. I kissed my down her legs way towards it. As I got close, she ran her fingers through my hair and then used her hand to pull my face towards her. As my tongue landed on her hot, soft, wetness, she moaned.
"Oh fuck," she said breathlessly.
I knew what she liked and it wasn't long before her hips were bucking in orgasm. As it subsided, she pushed my head back, and then put her hand on my cheek. She had her head raised up from the seat to look at me.
"Fuck me. Fuck me now," she commanded.
Was this how it happened?
As if reading my mind, she nodded significantly.
I moved up, and lowered myself onto her. My cock against her belly, my balls hanging down between her legs, pressed against her wetness. She tilted her hips and rubbed her pussy against the underside of my cock, one hand clutching my ass, pulling me against her, the other hand against the back of the front seat.
"Fuck me," she repeated, grinding her pussy lewdly against my cock. She still had her eyes on me. "Please fuck me," she pleaded.
"You want it?" I asked.
She nodded, giving me a more lacivious look than I'd ever seen on her. I hardly recognized her. "Yes," she said. "I..." She stopped herself. "Yes," she repeated.
I remembered her admitting to demanding his "big sexy cock," in her confession, but her nerve failed her here and she left that part unsaid. I heard it anyway.
I couldn't hold out any longer and pushed into her. She moaned and let her head fall back. I gave her about two strokes and stopped myself - I was at the point of cumming already.
She looked at me.
"You gonna cum?"
I nodded.
She sighed, then she nodded and said. "Cum inside me. Fuck me hard...."
I stayed motionless a moment, try to get back from the brink of orgasm.
"Come on, baby. Fuck me hard with that... fucking cock - I want your cum in me."
I slammed hard against her, grunting, and shot load after load in her, watching her face, watching her watch me. Even as I came, I couldn't keep it out of my mind that another man had shot his load in her, my wife, unloading deeper into her than I could, and she had begged him for it.
As I finished, she was still studying me. We lay there panting, looking at each other.
I lay my head on her breast and caressed my hair as we recovered.
"Should we talk?" she asked.
"About what?"
"I don't know. About... today? About... what we just did?"
"We fucked, Lisa. We've fucked before."
"Okay," she said.
___
"So great to see you guys again!" Julienne chirped in her French accent as she led us down the hallway to Dr. Brunder's office. "Did you have a good week?" she asked turning to us, seeming genuinely curious.
Did we have a good week?
We fucked like teenagers all week. No, what was it Dan had said about sex with his wife after their treatment? 'Teenagers don't fuck like that'?