Afternoon Delights
He texted late Saturday morning. "How soon can I come over?"
She replied immediately, her hands shaking with excitement: "Husband leaving now. Wait five minutes. You can see when he leaves."
They were prepared. Her husband was ready to leave on a moment's notice. He kissed her, long and lovingly, then said, "Have fun, baby. I'll see you when you're done." With that, he patted her ass fondly and went out to the garage.
He got right into his truck and left. He had acted stoic, showing little of his excitement and none of his doubts. He would not spoil it. He'd fantasized about such things for years, had shared those fantasies with his wife. It excited her and spiced up their sex life. Now, finally, unexpectedly, here was the real thing happening. He knew that he had to see it through, regardless of any reservations he might have. This situation was very much his own doing and he would let it play out, at least under the conditions he had already specified. Ultimately, he had to benefit from her affair, or it had to end. She understood that and accepted it. He was her husband and she loved him and treasured their marriage above all things. Still, this was fun! The trick was to have fun and not screw things up.
They had agreed, and then he acted calm and accepting, even eager. Truly, though, he was awash in a sea of emotion, battered by jealousy, foundering in anxiety, buoyed by visions of his wife having sex, wantonly feeding her carnal desires, the lusts he'd helped unleash, but not with him, with her new, young lover. He envisioned her face as she fucked, that look she gets when most excited, lost in her passion, focused intently on satisfying her sexual needs. It was that excitement in her that most excited him when they made love, that pushed him to please her as much as he could, fuck her long and slow, to heighten her lusts and then, when she was fully primed, satisfy them with vigor. It was why he was playing along now, why he even helped her arrange things. He wanted to see that look in her eyes, to see her have that intense pleasure, that deep sexual satisfaction. To him, giving her such thrills was necessary to his own satisfaction. This was a new way to give to her and he was a giving man.
By the time he'd driven a few blocks, he knew that they were already there in the house together, that she was showing her body to him, offering herself to him, taking advantage of him, teaching him, and, yes, using him. She was showing him how to make love to her, how to satisfy a woman's needs, how to give her the greatest sexual pleasure. She would show him many things he'd never known. That was one lucky young man, getting fucked all day by a very sexy, highly experienced woman.
They would be at it all afternoon, he figured, doing it over and over, upstairs in his house, trashing and soiling his very own bed. Yes, he was jealous, but he was also aroused almost beyond his own imagining. He was hard and his juices flowed, and he knew he had to stop fantasizing or he would soak his pants through. It would not be easy, knowing that they were back there, maybe fucking already, launching a marathon of sex, raw unrestrained sex. Mouths and genitals, all of it, wet, lascivious, indulgent. He could see them. She would open herself to the young man and let him have her. She would take command of his penis, use it for her own pleasure, pump it dry over and over, taking it, all of it, for her own.
He'd seen the video, the huge ropes of cum the young man had spewed onto his abdomen from his impressive manhood. Big, creamy gobs of seminal fluid. He would pump that into her now, again and again; and she would receive it greedily.
They would record it all for him to see when he returned home later in the day, after they were finished. That was the deal. She could have all day to fuck if she wanted. She could do anything she wanted to do, any position, any orifice. But he had to see. If the young man did not agree to be recorded as they romped on the bed, then she could fuck him but once more and then he had to go. The affair would end.
He hoped, though, that in just a few hoursβlong, slow hoursβhe could watch the video, see her having sex, see her wantonness, see her indulge herself and take those loads of semen. He could picture her used bottom, gaping open, her hair matted, oozing his cum. He could watch her take him, watch her fuck her brains out, pleasure herself and give herself away to this young man. He could hardly wait to see it.
But he had to wait. He had to kill the next few hours. He entered the expressway and pointed north toward Milwaukee. Ninety minutes up and ninety minutes back. That should about do it. To distract himself, he turned the radio on and cranked up the volume. He sang along, "So come on and let me know, should I stay or should I go?"
When her husband left, she changed quickly as she could. She stripped naked then put on her sexy boy shorts and tank top and then mentally prepared herself to greet her lover. She was nervous, but experienced. She was in command, she reminded herself.
Another text: "I saw him leave. Sure it's OK now?"
Reply: "Yes. The back gate is unlocked. Come through there." Oh God!
"OK," he replied. Her heart raced with anticipation of finally having him, taking him to their bed and seducing him again. Her vagina was wet and receptive and yearned to be filled by him, to be used, to be sated.
Seconds later, she could see him out the back window. She waited for him at the back door, naked but for the sheer tank and silky shorts. He smiled and waved when he saw her through the glass. His smile broadened perceptibly when he saw how she was dressed. He wore his usual tee shirt and shorts. He was a kid, after all. He was no suave romancer who had seduced her. It was a kid, and she had seduced him. She had taken advantage of him and his youthful body, using it for her own pleasure. Oh, he got benefits beyond most kids' experience, but the advantage hers was she knew.
She opened the door for him and stepped back to let him in. He closed the door behind him without taking his eyes off her. He just stared her engorged nipples and smiled at her for several moments. Those nipples hardened still more under his intense stare, and she felt her bottom lubricating itself, practically dripping now, preparing itself for him.