Work Ethic Ch 2

Author's Note:

This story was originally distributed as 6 chapters.

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For the rest of the day her every thought was consumed with the memory of her "show". Up until now, a computer screen had always separated her from her "playmates". Suddenly, she'd discovered that there were other people who also wanted to play, people who would probably do a lot more than watch if given the chance.

In the 10 years she'd been married to Paul she'd never once thought about cheating. Even in the last few months, although she enjoyed the attention, she'd never thought of meeting up with any of her cyber-lovers. But now she found herself thinking very hard about what it might be like to fuck someone other than her husband, and she was having a hard time pushing the thoughts out of her mind.

The following day it got so bad that she finally gave in – at least mentally. She was in the guest room, sitting in front of the computer and waiting for it to boot up. She felt that familiar throb between her legs, only this time it felt stronger, more insistent.

She moved to the guest bed and opened her robe. Sitting down and closing her eyes Bev trailed her fingers over the smoothness of her breasts, teeth chattering as her nipples hardened, the computer all but forgotten. She spread her legs, letting the air caress her pussy lips as she continued to rub and massage herself, limiting her touch just to her breasts and swelling nipples.

Unbidden, images of the three painters leapt to her mind, surprising her. She could see the younger one, Junior, leering at her, his mouth turned up in a satisfied grin. In her thoughts, he reached a large, paint-splattered hand toward her, his forearm deeply tanned from working outdoors, and fastened on her aching nipple.

In real life, her own hand imitated the motion, clamping viselike on the small, fleshy nub and pulling it away from her body. She fell back, legs splayed, robe wide, as she pulled and squeezed on her own nipples, imagining it was Junior.

As the scene in her mind unfolded, Ryan and Chris materialized next to her and guided her over to the sofa while Junior miraculously managed to hold tight to her throbbing nipple. Once they had her positioned, Chris took his hand, strong yet gentle, and moved it down her stomach, caressing the folds and dimples, until he reached her warm, moist crotch. Gently, he spread her labia. Bev's own hand performed the actual movements, playing wetly with her inner lips.

Her head rolled from side to side, so lost in the fantasy that she barely heard the telephone ring. Disoriented, she lumbered to her feet, walked over to the desk, and snatched up the receiver.

"Hello!" she barked in an irritated tone.

"Honey? It's me Paul – is everything all right?

Bev fought to clear her head, get herself under control.

"Hi Sweetheart, I'm fine. I was…napping. I wasn't totally awake when I picked up the phone."

They talked for another 10 minutes before Paul rang off. He liked to check in every morning – Bev suspected he found motivation just in talking to her, a reminder of why he was pushing himself so hard. She almost felt guilty about what she'd been thinking about.

Still standing at the desk in front of the computer, she shrugged off her robe and sat down. She searched for someone to play with but couldn't find anyone that she was really interested in.

Pulling open one of the desk drawers, she rooted around until she found a box of sanitary napkins, opened it, and extracted the vibrator she kept hidden there. It was shaped like a cock, flesh colored and 6" long. It was almost as thick as a tube of toothpaste, and very much resembled her husband's cock. She knew Paul would never find it hidden there; he wouldn't even walk down the feminine products aisle in the grocery store.

She went back over to the bed and got up on her hands and knees, summoning thoughts of the three painters again. In her fantasy Chris' cock was nice and hard and ready to enter her. She switched on the vibrator and placed the tip at the entrance to her pussy. She eased it in, groaning at how good it felt. As she rode Chris in her fantasy she pumped the vibrator in and out of her pussy, taking long slow strokes.

She imagined Chris holding her close as Ryan appeared in back of her, sliding the tip of his cock along her asshole. She tensed, afraid of the invasion, even as he slowly pressed it in.

Her fantasies had never taken her here before. She and Paul had never tried anal. Neither of them had ever expressed an interest in it, yet here she was with her middle finger pushing against her asshole imagining that she's part of some hot threesome. She felt her finger slide in, sat still for a moment, blinking rapidly as she adjusted to this new sensation. Slowly she moved it in and out, gripping it tightly with her ass.

In her mind, the two men fucked her rhythmically, one pulling out of one hole as the other pushed in another. As she did the same with her finger and the vibrator she felt an orgasm start to build in the pit of her groin that promised to be memorable.

She picked up her pace, fingering her ass and pumping the vibrator so hard the bed shook. She was ramming the vibrator in as deep as it would go, threatening on several occasions to lose her grip on it. Her orgasm came hard and fast, her finger in up to the knuckle, vibrator out but preparing to thrust inward. Her body went rigid, the force and the intensity of the feelings pushing her down into the bed. She opened her mouth to moan but no sound came out, and it felt like her whole body was trapped in electrified Jell-O.

Then, as if someone flicked a switch, her hips started bucking violently, knocking the vibrator from her hand. She fucked the bed like it was a man, humping and pounding, urging an unseen lover deeper. The bed crashed violently against the wall and the covers all came untucked. By the time she settled down it felt like she'd been gang banged by a football team.

Under her the bed was so wet it squished when she shifted. Had she peed herself? That couldn't be cum – she'd never been that messy before! Gingerly she dabbed at it and brought her hand to her nose. Holy shit, it was cum! Oh man!

Bev tried to be good the rest of the day, avoiding the computer, and her toy, and even refrained from touching herself. She was out of control, her need and her craving taking over so completely that she could now almost come just by thinking about sex. She thought that if she could go the day without another "episode", maybe she could pull herself back a little from the abyss. Otherwise, she was frightened about what the next step would be.

By the time Paul got home that night she was so horny she was ready to fuck a door handle. As usual, he was exhausted, but she didn't care. She needed a cock, and one that just laid there was better than none at all. Even with his lack of participation she came twice before he did. By the time she rolled off of him he was asleep, and even sucking his dick clean wasn't enough to rouse him or raise another hard on.

She got out of bed and went into the guestroom, searching frantically online for someone to help her get satisfaction. She played with anyone who wanted to – men, women, couples - every orgasm made her ache for another until finally, sore and worn out, she crawled back in bed next to her snoring husband and slipped into a deep and well earned sleep.

When the painters arrived the next day Bev had resolved not to act on her urges, although she didn't see any reason not to have a little fun. She answered the door wearing a XXL men's button down shirt (with the top 4 buttons unbuttoned) and nothing else. She took every opportunity to bend over, letting her breasts spill out, and giving them glimpses of her pussy, especially as she got wetter and small droplets of juice clung to her honey colored pubic hair.

Throughout the day the painters made frequent trips out to their truck, often taking 10 minutes or more before returning. Giggling, she walked past Junior, who took one whiff of the heavy sex smell drifting off her and promptly went outside, even though he'd only recently returned from the truck.

On Thursday she moved it up a notch. Wearing a similar outfit, she spent a great deal of time looking over their shoulders, pressing against them, rubbing her body on theirs. Bev knew they could feel the heat from her crotch and was impressed at how much they struggled not to react. Initially they tried to hide their hardons, but soon accepted that they were going to be aroused for most of the day and submitted to their torture gracefully.

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