No one under eighteen allowed.
Story is fiction, any resemblance to any person living or not living is purely ridiculous. Be kind in your comments, especially you Mr anonymous. This story is a fantasy, so try to relax.
*****
I don't remember how I got home from the bar. I don't remember getting into my townhouse. I vaguely remember giving the barman my car keys. Thank God I didn't drive home! I am not sure, but I think the lyft driver helped me into the house, and I made it as far as the stairs. I collapsed into a fetal position.
*********
Unfortunately, I could still remember my wife's face, the happy smirk as she told me, brazen to my face, that not only was there another man, but that she was leaving me for him. He was bigger, stronger, smarter, and richer. Wow, he was all that and a bag of chips!
Super-guy wanted my future-ex-wife? Maybe he was blind and deaf too. Poor guy. He was rich? Music to my wife's ears.
Well my soon-to-be-ex-wife would fix that last part, if she got her hands on his money. The fact that he was with her, led me to believe he was just as stupid as I was, in the beginning of our now doomed relationship. Poor asshole. I really felt bad for what I knew was going to happen to him.
*********
"Karen, how could you do this to me? To us? To our kids?" I asked. Her eyes shifted evasively. She could not look me in the eye. She knew she was totally wrong, but she was determined to somehow make it all my fault. Rationalization is so easy for her.
"Frank...I don't love you anymore. I haven't for a while now. You don't have it in the bedroom anymore. Tim is twenty-nine. He's hung like a horse. I'm his now." She acted like that was it, end of story.
My heart was full of crushing pain on hearing her... explanation. I thought I had a pretty decent size dick, thick and hard. I guess there is always someone better than you. I just didn't know she was conducting cock interviews! I got rip roaring drunk.
*********
The next morning, my Polish housekeeper found me in a heap on the bottom of the stairs. She somehow got me up and into bed, with a small detour to throw up in the bathroom. I had to pee as well. I don't remember, it was all very fuzzy in my mind. I seem to vaguely remember someone helping me pee, I sure could not aim. I saw two toilets. A woman's hand steadied my aim. It was all very fuzzy.
*********
I awoke to a very bad hangover.
I was in bed, totally naked with a sheet and a light blanket on me. The curtains were drawn, so I didn't have to face direct sunlight. There was a bloody Mary on the nightstand, along with four pain reliever pills. And a note saying, "Thanks you were fantastic."
What? Huh? What did I do? How was I fantastic? My memories were a jumble of crazy images. I was fucking, but who? No clue. I hope she had a nice time. I hope I did too. I just couldn't remember clearly.
I took the pain reliever and the bloody Mary and tried to make the room stop spinning. I swore, "NEVER again!" My head hurt so bad, maybe I would become a teetotaler. I went back to sleep, sort of.
I suddenly realized I was stark naked, and apparently I really did have sexual relations with someone last night. From the note, I had acquitted myself well. Too bad I don't remember a damn thing!
Mrs. Wisniewski was coming into the bedroom carrying a tray with breakfast on it, presumably for me. There were bacon, eggs, fruit and cereal. I especially smelled the aroma of coffee, the elixir of life!
Mrs Wisniewski was dressed in my white terry cloth robe, and it was quite apparent that she was also naked under that. She was smiling. She never smiled. WOW. I just noticed she was built. I mean true hourglass figure. Her tits were huge, as was her ass. Her waist was quite small, surprisingly. She had lovely blue eyes, and blond hair, streaked with grey. She was gorgeous in my eyes.
She bent over to place the tray on the bed for me, and I couldn't help but see her gigantic tits and cleavage as she did so. Her mammaries were magnificent, and topped with big dark areolas, and tall hard nipples. She was a tit man's dream. She beamed at me.
"Frank, I just want to thank you for last night. You were just so magnificent. I have never cum so hard, or so many times... I am so very happy that your wife decided to screw around on you. I mean... I'm sorry, that did not come out right. I'm so glad you took out your anger on me. I'm so sated. But if you want, I'll blow you again, but no throat fucking today. I've never done that before, and my throat is sore. My pussy and my asshole are pretty sore as well. I had no idea you were such an animal! I loved it, being taken again and again like that!" Her eyes were bright and happy!
She had thrown back the covers, and next thing I knew, my cock was deep in her throat. It did not take me long to ejaculate. She pulled me almost out, and filled her mouth with stream after steam of my jism. She opened her mouth to show me, and swallowed it. She smiled. She wanted me to know that she swallowed my cum.
She said, "Thank you so much! Now I've had my favorite breakfast." She giggled.
"Now you eat your breakfast! You will need your energy!"
She just gave me a fantastic blow job, and she's thanking me? Last night must have been awesome. Too bad I can't remember it.
My memories are a jumble of kaleidoscope images and feelings of anger and sex, and a woman screaming. I sorta remember coming very hard...
But the rest was just a fog and almost a dream. I was thinking about the woman's scream.
"Oh my goodness, Mrs. Wisniewski. Did I hurt you? Oh I am so sorry!-"