Edible Delights Ch 02

Chelsea felt like a woman reborn. She was up early, long before Harold, running through the daily tasks ahead. She had a lot to do, with memories of the evening before popping into her mind. There was little else she could think of, not that she objected to the thoughts coming and going.

Her thoughts were interrupted, quite rudely in her opinion, by Harold. This had all started two nights before, when he placed his own needs far above her own in bed, and satisfied, fell fast asleep. Or rather, perhaps it was better to say that this has been years in the making. She could not recall the last time he gave her an orgasm, and he did not seem concerned in the slightest.

He stepped into the kitchen in a foul mood. "Everything alright?" she asked.

He shook his head, "Gerald has a head cold, so we're cancelling our bowling game tonight. I was really looking forward to it."

Chelsea smiled softly. She was looking forward to it even more than he was, because she had imagined all the sorts of things she would do to Alan, who was set to arrive shortly after Harold was to leave. She thought quickly, a wicked idea entered her mind.

"Well, that sounds like a good reason to have a nice, big, special dinner. How does a steak sound?"

Harold barely registered the words, "Yes, that will be fine. I'm heading out to pick up a few things for the week." He turned, still annoyed by the change in plans and unappreciative of his wife's gesture. She was used to his attitude, to expect things to be done for him, but now she would use it to her advantage.

Hearing the garage door open and close a few moments later, wicked thoughts ran through her mind. She went upstairs and put on black bodysuit, lacy and tight, hugging all of her curves. She had bought it to use for an anniversary with Harold, but he had no interest. She slipped into the lingerie and began snapping pictures, and before long was satisfied with a few.

Laying down on the bed, she sent them to Alan along with a short message: Harold won't be going out tonight, but I still want you to come over. We'll find a way to have some fun. Text me when you're here and I'll let you in the back.

She set the phone down and undid the snap of the body suit, running her fingers along her exposed clit. The phone dinged with a response soon after. His response read: You are SO beautiful! Ok, I'll let you know when I'm coming by. I can't wait to taste you again!

It was only a few words on the screen, and yet, they served to ignite a fire within her body like no other. She moved her fingers faster, and soon her body tensed up as the quick, unexpected orgasm washed over her.

Satisfied, at least as satisfied as she could be for the time being until Alan arrived, she set to work. After completing a few errands, she was back home, showered and dressed in the same bodysuit beneath another revealing sundress. She also put on a pair of heels. This was uncharacteristic of her, but she wanted the night to be special.

In the kitchen, she began preparing dinner for Harold. As if on cue, Harold returned, hungry, as always.

"I'm just getting started on dinner," she said. "Here, have a drink to unwind."

He sat in the large recliner, putting his feet up. The drink itself was nothing special, but she had made it twice as strong as normal. Then, she brought him another while he watched the game on the television, and then a third, followed by a small steak and some carrots on the side. He was well into it now, and did not mind the small portion. She sat down opposite him on the large sofa and watched as he went from tired and awake to more and more tired. She served him another drink, and then another.

That was all it took, he finished the last drink, happy now, and laid his head back to rest, right as Alan arrived, sending a message to her phone. Chelsea read the message, "Harold. Harold, my dear, would you like anything else?" Except for a deep sigh and a gentle snore, there was no reply.

Chelsea opened the door at the back of the house, giving Alan a strong embrace. He wasted no time, planting a kiss on her eager lips. Without a word, she guided him back to the living room.

Alan froze at the sight of Harold, thinking that this was it, a short-lived adventure that was about to end terribly, but Chelsea spurred him on, speaking confidently in a normal tone, "Don't worry about him, he's had a bit too much to drink tonight."

To prove her point, she stepped in front of Harold and slipped the straps off her summer dress, unzipped it from the back, and let it fall to the floor. He did not react, but Alan's breath caught in the back of his throat as she stood there in that bodysuit and heels.

She bent over to pick up the dress, and walked behind the recliner, running her fingers along Harold's shoulder, and then his neck. "Honey, can you hear me?" she cooed into his ear. "I hope you don't mind, I've invited Alan over, because he loves to eat me out, and I could really use a good fucking." she said, a bit of anger and revenge in her tone. Without receiving any reaction, she draped the sundress over his eyes, and turned back to Alan.

There had been several times in Alan's life where he felt confident in his sexual capabilities, and hearing the way in which Chelsea described what she wanted, what she needed, to her selfish, slumbering husband, made him feel unstoppable.

She could see the fire in his eyes as he put his arms around her waist and kissed her, hard. His tongue explored her mouth, and she felt weak in the knees. Up to this point, she had been driven by the memories of the night before, along with the many fantasies that had filled her mind throughout the day. There was one major difference however, as unlike the day before, they were both completely sober. She thought about this as Alan grasped her firmly, one hand behind her neck, his lips kissing and making his way down to her chest. Had a single bottle of wine and a few edibles been the root cause of her infidelity? No, no of course not. It was the years of forgotten anniversaries. The selfishness. The total contempt for her needs as a woman that made this feel so natural.

As if reading her mind, he guided her to sit on the sofa. He knelt on the ground between her thick legs, undid the snap of her bodysuit, and eagerly began licking at her clit. It was like a thunderstorm had hit her. She moaned, loudly, the sound amplified by the large living room area. Harold did not stir, nor would he.

Alan placed his arms beneath her legs and grabbed at her hips, ensuring he had a tight hold, pulling her into his mouth. He slowed down almost immediately. There was clearly no rush, nothing to stop them from enjoying themselves. He swirled his tongue around, loving every moment he tasted on her perfect clit.

Chelsea watched in a complete stupor. She could not believe the sight before her, a handsome young man, eagerly wanting to give her pleasure, using his mouth so expertly, while Harold sat only a few feet away, oblivious to how easily he had become a cucked man.

As he continued to work his magic tongue, she ran her hands through his hair. Her moans were complimented by the occasional snore from Harold, which made the pair laugh at first. From time to time, Alan would glance up to lock eyes with Chelsea. She smiled at him in between her soft moans.

Alan stood up halfway, kissing her deep. She could taste how turned on she was in his mouth, and it made her burn with desire. Standing up straight, Alan slipped off his shirt and the loose-fitting pair of shorts. He tossed both onto Harold, and they giggled as he was becoming a place to store their clothing. Chelsea marvelled at his rock hard manhood, but only for a moment as he resumed his position, kneeling between her legs to continue working his mouth, softly stroking himself with one free hand, his other hand again grasping firmly around her thigh.

Chelsea found it difficult to concentrate. She was writhing, only a bit, as her body became lost in bliss and pleasure. Alan moved his free hand up and down her wet, warm lips. Gently, he slid one finger inside, and then another. She moaned loudly now as his fingers moved in and out of her, while his tongue never stopped moving in its rhythmic way.

She slid down slightly, to the edge of the seat, bringing her legs up and onto his shoulders. She looked down as she had him firmly between her thighs, and this only seemed to excite them both further. She squeezed his head, ever so playfully, and held him close and he licked her. They were both working up a bit of a sweat, the heat of the summer making it impossible to stay cool, not when she was so worked up.

As the pleasure continued to rise throughout her full frame, Alan felt as though he had never been harder in his life. He could not believe his luck, to be between the legs of such ample, smooth legs. He cherished her taste, lost in her sensual aroma and the sweet sounds of her moaning, while he stroked himself, ever so slowly. She had a truly spectacular pair of legs, he thought, as her thighs squeezed gently around his head.

If it had been up to him, he would have stayed in this position for hours, on his knees, licking at her perfect sex. It was probably that attitude that had Chelsea so worked up. The build up had been so gradual, but now she was moaning uncontrollably, her breath was ragged. She cried out in pure ecstasy, far louder than she had expected too. Her body tensed, and she squeezed Alan hard between her legs, his head feeling immense pressure as she did, and he loved being suffocated there. Her vision became blurred, and she was so lightheaded that spots clouded all along her vision.

When she noticed that she had been squeezing perhaps too tightly with her legs, she eased up, only slightly. It was enough for Alan to move again, but he was in no hurry to do so. He breathed in deep the smell of her sex, and raised his eyes to meet hers. She was still breathing heavily, higher than a kite after such a strong climax. She brought her legs down to either side of him.

Alan stood up, slowly, and bent down to kiss Chelsea, softly. Her lips met his briefly, between rushed breaths as she tried to return to some kind of normal. His kiss was intoxicating, her aroma on him turned her on so much.

He whispered into her ear, "You taste like heaven."

She smiled, "My goodness. I've never had a man do that to me so well."

"Well, lucky for both of us, we both love it. Does he ever go down on you?" he asked, gesturing to the still-snoring Harold.

"No. Well, I think he might, once, but this was so long ago, and it clearly wasn't memorable."

"Well, why don't we show him what he's missing? I think we're being pretty bad as it is." He helped her up, slowly, and they stood in front of the extended recliner. Carefully, Alan listed teh sundress off of Harold's face. He did not stir, having had too much to drink, and decades of a lazy life.

Alan tossed a pillow down onto the floor, and Chelsea knelt down without saying a word. She grasped his hard manhood and stroked it, staring at how perfect it looked in her hands. He placed both hands on either side of her head. They were directly in front of Harold now, blissfully unaware as Chelsea took Alan's rock-hard shaft into her mouth. The sounds of her slurping and sucking filled the room, their eyes locking from time to time.

Alan marvelled at the perfect view in front of him. He could not believe how anyone could have neglected this stunning woman. He wanted to explore each of her curves, her soft behind looking so good as she moved her head back and forth.

She meanwhile was absolutely thrilled to be doing this in front of a slumbering Harold. SHe had grown to resent going down on him, because he never returned the favor, and so in her mind, she had begun to believe that she disliked it. What a revelation, to be reminded of what she truly enjoyed, she loved sucking Alan off. She adored that he was attracted to her larger figure, and how he reacted when seeing her in the lace bodysuit. She was eager to please him because, and this seems almost ridiculous, he was eager to please her.

She alternated between stroking him with one hand and sucking on the tip, to taking a bit more and more deeper into her mouth. Alan was about the same size as Harold, but she had never tried deepthroating him like she was now. It helped that Alan seemed more excited with the whole experience, and he did not care whether or not she could take it all at once, driving her to want to do it even more.

"You look so good with that in your mouth, but if you keep up this pace, I don't think I'll last much longer," he said. She moaned in response and batted her eyelashes at him. She slowed down. She did not mind the idea of him finishing now, and he could not be blamed for the build-up of excitement that had likely started last night and continued on throughout the day, but she wanted something specific at this point. She wanted something symbolic that she would remember, always.

She stood, taking Alan by the hand and sitting him on the couch, directly across from where Harold sat. She moved to straddle Alan in a reverse cowgirl position, with both her legs on the ground. She guided him into her, and slowly eased down, bracing herself on her knees, while Alan gripped firmly at her hips, enjoying the view. He moaned as she began to slide up and down.

"Do you hear that, Harold?" she asked. There was no reply, as he was in a deep slumber, but it was enough for her. "I love the way Alan fucks me. He gives it to me like a real man."

Alan, surprised completely by the direction this was taking, found himself excited nonetheless. He squeezed her hips and helped move her faster up and down.

"He's so strong, dear. I can feel him, his hands pulling me back onto him. He's a perfect lover, compared to you. Even now, I can feel him moving me faster and faster. He's close, I can tell, and I can't wait to feel him finish deep, deep inside me." She moaned as she rode him, helping move more quickly.

Alan was near the total loss of control. He began pumping his hips, unable to stop. Chelsea moaned with pleasure, "He's close now...he's so close!" Alan moaned and pulled her down hard, his climax pulsating through his body.

"Yes!" Chelsea cried out. "Give me everything you have!"

Alan found it all too much, letting go of his grip, but throwing his arms around her waist and pulling her close to him.

She relished the feeling but kept her gaze focused on Harold, who had not stirred once in all this time. This was passion fueled by hatred, only she did not understand it to be so until this moment. She did not care for this man, not any more, and she was finished with his complete lack of interest in what mattered to her.

She stood and turned, straddling Alan again, now facing him. He was no longer hard, but that did not matter. They embraced and kissed deeply, lost in each other's gaze. They sat like that for a few minutes, until finally she said, "How about a nice shower?"

Alan smiled, but looked over with concern to Harold.

"Don't worry about him, dear. When he drinks, he's out for the evening. He likely won't awaken again until it's time for bed."

"Well, in that case, why don't you leave him a note that you went out for drinks, and come back to my place, where we don't have to worry about him waking up?"

She smiled and kissed him again.