First Time Shared/first Blowjob

The predictable rhythm of Lynda's afternoons with Jon became a symphony of desire and deceit. At 3:00 pm sharp, the thud of Jon's boots on the doorstep was a prelude to the erotic concerto that played out behind closed doors. His touch grew bolder with each visit, his kisses more demanding, as if he could somehow claim her soul with every stroke of his cock. Yet, as the clock approached 6:55 pm, she would gently push him away, the sweet taste of his love on her lips turning bitter with the reality of the imminent return to Michael.

"You have to go, Jon," she'd murmur, her voice a soft whisper of regret. "Michael will be home soon."

Jon would groan, his body heavy with the weight of their passion. "I don't want to leave," he'd say, his eyes searching hers for any hint of a reprieve. But Lynda was firm, her love for Michael a compass that guided her every move. She'd peck him on the cheek, her hand lingering on his chiseled abs, before ushering him out the door. The sound of it closing behind him was like a final note in their illicit symphony, one that played out almost every day.

As the minutes ticked away, she'd rush to their bed to insure all of the evidence of her encounter with Jon was clearly displayed. Lynda thought that the wet cum stains in the middle of the bed would turn her large Husband on. Lynda rehearsed in her Mind all the things Jon had said and done to her that would make Michael even more excited. She knew exactly how he liked it, and she wasn't going to disappoint him. She could almost feel his eyes on her as she touched herself, her fingers tracing the path that Jon's cock had taken just moments before. Her body was still sensitive, and the lightest touch sent waves of pleasure through her.

The door creaked open, and Michael's footsteps echoed through the hallway. She laid back on the bed, her legs spread, the scent of sex heavy in the air. She watched him enter, his eyes immediately drawn to the mess between her thighs. The sight of her, sprawled out and used, was like a key turning in his lock. He couldn't help but smirk as he approached, his cock already hardening in his pants.

"Hi, baby," she cooed, her voice thick with the sweetness of their shared secret. "How was your day?"

"It was fine," Michael said, his voice gruff with anticipation. He tossed his keys onto the counter and made his way over to her, his eyes never leaving the sticky mess that was her pussy. "But I think yours was a bit more... eventful." did you cum a lot?

"Oh, Jon made sure of that," Lynda replied with a sultry smile. "He can't get enough of me." She watched as Michael's cock grew in his pants, the material straining to contain his arousal. unlike some cuckolds Michaels cock was not small by any sense of the word.

The routine grew more intense with each passing day. Michael's demands for explicit dialogue became a thrilling game for Lynda. She'd whisper sweet nothings into Jon's ear, telling him how much she enjoyed his touch, how he made her feel alive in ways Michael never could. Jon, caught in the thrall of their clandestine romance, eagerly played along, his own desires for Lynda blurring the lines between their fantasy and reality.

As 6:55 pm approached, the tension in the air grew palpable. Jon's breath grew ragged as he fucked her harder, his eyes pleading for a confession of love that she knew would never come. She'd kiss him deeply, her voice a siren's call, telling him that she enjoyed him but that Michael was her soulmate. His eyes would glaze over with a mix of pain and arousal, and she'd push him away with a gentle smile, her hand lingering on his cheek.

"You know the rules," she'd say, her voice a soft purr. "You have to go now."

Jon's eyes would cloud with a mix of desire and frustration as he pulled away from her, his cock still hard and glistening with her juices. "I'll miss you," he'd murmur, his hand tracing the curve of her hip.

"And I'll miss you too," she'd lie, her heart racing as the clock ticked down to 6:55 pm. "But Michael will be home soon."

As Jon would leave, the anticipation grew stronger. She knew what was to come next, the sweet release of her husband's own pent-up desire.

Michael would enter, his eyes scanning the room, searching for any sign of the other man. His gaze would settle on her, and he'd smile, a predator who'd caught his prey. He'd make his way to the bed, his own cock straining against his pants. "It was fine," he'd say, his voice a low rumble. "But I think I know what you've been up to."

Lynda would giggle, playing the part of the naughty wife perfectly. She'd sit up, her legs still spread, and beckon him closer. "What makes you say that?" she'd ask, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Well," Michael would begin, his voice a slow, seductive drawl. "Let's start with the mess you've made here." He'd gesture to her thighs, sticky with cum. "Tell me, baby, did Jon leave you all filled up?"

Lynda would bite her lower lip, nodding as she felt Michael's fingers trace the slick lines of Jon's desire. "Yes," she'd whisper, her voice a sweet symphony of submission. "He said he couldn't get enough of me, that he wants me all to himself."

Michael's eyes would light up with a possessive fire, his cock growing harder as he leaned in to clean her up. He'd start with her thighs, licking the sticky trails of cum with a hunger that bordered on obsession. His tongue was gentle yet firm, a silent declaration of his dominance. "And what did you tell him?" he'd ask, his voice a gruff growl.

"I told him that I love you more than anything," Lynda would murmur, her eyes fluttering shut as his mouth moved closer to her pussy. She felt the warmth of his breath, the anticipation of his touch. "But he doesn't believe me, Michael. He thinks he can have me for himself."

Michael's eyes darkened, a mix of anger and arousal. "What did he say exactly?" he demanded, his voice tight.

Lynda leaned back, her legs still in the air, her pussy open and inviting. "He said that he loves me, that we're meant to be together," she replied, her voice a sweet symphony of deceit. "That you're not good enough for me, that you can't satisfy me like he can."

Michael's eyes narrowed, but his cock throbbed at the thought. I guess he doesn't know my cock is somewhat larger than his "And what did you tell him?"

Lynda leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear. "I told him, Michael," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr. "I told him that while I do have feelings for him, you're the one I love. That no matter how good he makes me feel, you're the one I cling to every night. And I reminded him," she paused for dramatic effect, her hand tracing the outline of his cock through his pants, "that you were a Marine. That you could break him in two if you found out about us."

Michael's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching at the mention of Jon's audacity. He knew the man was strong, but he was no match for his military training. The thought of protecting what was his sent a thrill through his body, and his cock swelled even more at the thought of asserting his dominance. "And what did he say to that?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

"He just laughed," Lynda replied, her voice a mix of amusement and annoyance. "But I could see it in his eyes, Michael. He's afraid of you! Well as you're aware I have no fear of him taking you because I know how we're devoted to each other. Not to mention I love sharing you! And he should feel fortunate that you've chosen him. Thank you for continuing to live out my fantasies!"

Michael chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down Lynda's spine. He knew he could never live without her, and the idea of losing her to someone like Jon was unbearable. Yet, the thrill of their secret filled him with a power he hadn't felt in years. He leaned in closer, his mouth mere inches from hers. "You're mine, Lynda. No matter what he says, no matter what he does, you're mine."

Their kiss grew more passionate, their tongues fighting for dominance. Michael's hand found its way to her cunt, still slick with Jon's cum. He slid two fingers inside her, his thumb pressing against her clit. She moaned into his mouth, her body responding to his touch despite the recent exertion. He could feel the walls of her pussy contract around him, eager for more, and it only served to fuel his desire.

As they broke apart, panting and desperate, Michael took in the sight of her. Her green eyes were half-lidded with lust, her chest heaving with every breath. She was a vision of erotic beauty, one that he had never fully appreciated until he'd allowed himself to indulge in his fantasy. He reached down, his hand wrapping around his thick, pulsing cock. "I need to fuck you," he growled, his voice thick with need.

Lynda's smile grew wicked. "Then take me," she challenged, her legs spreading wider, her pussy glistening with the evidence of her earlier encounter. "But remember, baby, I'm a mess. You've got to clean me up first."

Across the street, Mr. Jenkins sat in his armchair, a pair of binoculars in his trembling hands. He'd seen enough to know that Lynda was a slut and was cheating on her big slab of a husband and he felt sorry for him.

He'd always had a soft spot for the couple, watching them grow from awkward teenagers to the married adults they were today. But this... this was a betrayal of the highest order. He'd seen it before, in the movies and the tabloids, but never in his own neighborhood. And yet, he couldn't look away.

To Be continued

...

One morning, as the sun cast a soft glow through the kitchen window, Lynda and Michael sat at their small table, the smell of coffee and toast mingling with the faint scent of their morning breath. The mundane routine of breakfast was suddenly pierced by Michael's question, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. "Hey, baby, you getting laid today?"

Lynda swallowed a mouthful of eggs, her cheeks flushing slightly. She'd been expecting this, but the directness still took her aback. "Not today, sweetie," she replied, her voice a delicate balance of sweetness and sadness. "I've got my monthly visitor, and she's not exactly a welcome guest."

Michael's face fell for a moment, his hunger for their twisted game momentarily forgotten. He knew she didn't enjoy her period, but his cunning mind quickly found a silver lining. "That's too bad," he said, his voice filled with fake disappointment. "But you know, I'd still love to hear about it, if you don't mind. Maybe it'll help me feel closer to you."

Lynda looked at him over the rim of her coffee cup, her expression a mix of amusement and annoyance. "Really?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "You want to hear about my period?"

"Well," Michael said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's part of our deal, isn't it? Besides, it's not every day that I get to feel this... involved in your life." I don't expect you to Fuck since your period is so heavy but those verbal exchanges with him. I love hearing and your period doesn't stop you from making out right?

Lynda took a sip of her coffee, considering his words. The truth was, she did find some perverse pleasure in sharing her encounters with Jon, even the ones where Michael wasn't directly involved. It was a strange dance of love, lust, and power that she didn't fully understand, but it worked for them. "Alright," she conceded, setting her cup down. "But remember, I'm not feeling my best."

"I'll be gentle," Michael promised, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But I do want to hear about it. Every little detail."

Lynda rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help the smirk that played at the corners of her mouth. "Fine," she said, picking up her toast. "But only because you're so insatiable."

The clock on the wall ticked away the hours as Lynda went through her usual post-work routine. She felt a peculiar mix of excitement and dread, knowing what awaited her when she returned home. The lumber yard had been busy, with orders flying in and the saws buzzing incessantly. Her mind had been elsewhere, though, fixated on the promise of Jon's touch, his rough hands on her soft skin. As she clocked out, she took a deep breath, her heart racing in anticipation.

The sun had dipped lower in the sky by the time she pulled into her driveway, casting a warm glow over the suburban house she shared with Michael. She could feel the stickiness from her period, this day was all about the scripted conversations that Michael loved to hear about after he returned home. She took a moment to compose herself, waiting for Jon to arrive.

Her eyes darted to the clock on the dashboard. 3:05 PM. She knew he'd be here soon, her heart racing in anticipation. The crunch of gravel underfoot announced his arrival, and she watched as his pickup truck pulled in behind her car. The engine rumbled to a stop, and she felt a thrill shoot through her as he climbed out, his eyes scanning the street before landing on her car. He was a good-looking man, tall with broad shoulders and a beard that made him look rugged and capable. But today, she knew he was more than just a lover; he was a character in the ongoing saga of their twisted love story.

As Jon approached, she took a deep breath, her hand trembling slightly as it hovered over the door handle. The door swung open, and she stepped aside, allowing him to enter. Before the door could fully close, she grabbed his hand and pulled him in for a kiss that was anything but innocent. Her tongue danced with his, tasting the hint of mint on his breath as she pressed her body against his. He responded with equal fervor, his hands sliding down to cup her ass, pulling her closer.

Mr. Jenkins' eyes widened as he peered through his binoculars, his heart racing as he took in the explicit display. He couldn't believe what he was witnessing--his neighbors, the ones he'd watched grow from high school sweethearts into a seemingly picture-perfect couple, that poor man Michael being married to such a slut. He felt a strange mix of pity, knowing that Michael was being cuckolded by his own wife.

Once inside, Lynda and Jon sat side by side on the love seat, the plush cushions sighing under their weight. The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn tightly against the prying eyes of the outside world. The air was thick with the scent of secrecy, a potent cocktail that only served to heighten their desire. Despite her earlier protest, Lynda couldn't help but lean into him, her body craving his touch. She was a moth to the flame, and he was the fire that threatened to consume her.

As their kissing grew more heated, she felt his hand slide up her thigh, his thumb brushing against the hem of her short skirt. She gasped, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through her, even as she reminded herself of Michael's instructions. She pulled back, her breath coming in quick gasps. "Jon," she murmured, her voice a siren's call. "You know I have very strong feelings for you."

He looked at her, his eyes dark with passion. "You deserve better than him, Lynda," he said, his voice a rough whisper. "You're too good for a man who can't even give you a child." The words were like a knife, twisting in her gut, but she knew it was part of the game. Michael had told her to play along, to make him feel like he was winning. "Tell me, baby," he continued, his hand sliding under the waistband of her panties. "Do you think about me when he's fucking you?" Lynda pushed his hand away and she swallowed hard, her heart racing as she met his gaze. "Jon," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "You know how much I want you. But... I can't today." She saw the disappointment flash in his eyes, but she pushed on, her voice growing stronger. "It's just that... well, I'm on my period, and it's pretty heavy. I don't want to mess up our bed it might be hard to explain the stains."

Jon's hand stilled on her thigh, his thumb hovering over the slick fabric of her panties. For a moment, she thought she'd lost him, that he'd be too repulsed to continue. But then, a wicked smile curled his lips. "It's okay, Lynda," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I can still make you feel good. I'll just have to get a little... creative."

He leaned back, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to unbutton her blouse, his movements deliberate and unhurried. She felt a shiver of excitement run through her as he exposed her bra, his gaze lingering on the swell of her breasts. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against her neck. "So much more than he deserves."

Lynda bit her lower lip, feeling a thrill of power at his words. She knew it was all part of the act, but the way he said it made her feel like she was the queen of the world. "Jon," she murmured, her voice a soft purr. "Tell me more."

His hands paused in their journey up her body, his gaze locking with hers. "You're so hot so much hotter than that prick of a husband deserves," he said, his voice thick with need. "You're smart, you're beautiful, you're... mine." The possessiveness in his tone sent a shiver down her spine. She knew it was all for the sake of their twisted game, but a part of her reveled in the illicit thrill of it all.

"Tell me," she whispered, leaning in closer, her breath a soft caress against his cheek. "How much do you love it when you come here and fuck me in our marital bed?"

Jon's eyes lit up with a fiery passion, his fingers tracing the line of her collarbone. "More than you know, Lynda," he confessed, his voice a low growl. "You're so much more than a beautiful woman." He paused, his gaze traveling down to her chest, where her breasts strained against the fabric of her bra. "You're a goddess, and he's just a mere mortal."

Lynda leaned into his touch, her breath hitching in her throat as he deftly unclipped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. "And you, Jon," she whispered, her voice a sultry invitation. "You're the one who can truly make me feel alive." She watched as his eyes darkened with desire, his hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs flicking her nipples to hardened peaks.

He leaned in, capturing one of her nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it with an expertise that made her toes curl. Despite her period, she felt wet, her body betraying her with every touch. She knew Michael would love this, the idea of her being with another man, her body responding so eagerly. The thought made her pussy throb, and she couldn't help but moan, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

Jon and Lynda passionately kiss for about 20 minutes then Jon leans over and tells Lynda how much he loves her and that she needs to leave Michael for him. She tells him no, that she loves Michael and that this is just a phase she's going through. That she enjoys the attention and the thrill but Michael is her heart. Jon continues to plead with her trying to convince her of his Love and that he's the right man for her. He whispers sweet nothings in her ear, telling her that he'd take care of her, that he'd make her happy in ways Michael never could.

But Lynda remained steadfast in her resolve, her eyes never leaving his, her voice filled with a gentle firmness. "I know you love me, Jon," she said, her hand caressing his cheek. "And I love you, too--but not in the way you want me to. This," she gestured to the space between them, "this excites me cheating on my husband (she lies) but I can't deny the feelings for you (she lies again) but Michael is my soulmate."

Jon's expression grew pained, his eyes searching hers for a hint of doubt, but she offered none. She knew the power of her words, the control she had over him, and she wielded it with a precision that was almost cruel. She watched as his shoulders slumped in defeat, his hand dropping away from her breast. "I just don't understand," he murmured, his voice thick with unshed tears.