This is a stand alone story but the second chapter depicting the fall of a not so happily married woman at the hands of a big cocked dominant male. In this chapter Amy, deals with the aftermath of giving in to a moment of weakness with a well endowed stranger her husband was trying to help.
It depicts scenes of non-consent and reluctance as she discovers her true nature. If this is in anyway offensive, please find another story. If you choose to read on, please enjoy.
Special thanks to Kenji Sato for help editing story. Your efforts are much appreciated.
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I sat in disbelief, wondering if Wayne would call first, or if Mom would get home with the kids first. Either one was going to be tough to deal with, after what had just happened.
It was like a bad dream. I had just given myself to a man I had never met before, only hours after he came to do work on our new house. The raw gape in my pussy, reminded me--it was real. That huge, hard cock had been inside me, pounding me as I begged the stranger to fuck me.
Wayne and I were going through a rough patch after the move, but he didn't deserve this. I wondered how I could face either one of them, and pretend nothing happened. But I had to. I could never tell Wayne and if I dared confide in Mom, it would not go well.
"Why did you buy those stupid bikinis, Amy!" I asked myself.
I had seen them at work, on sale--and it seemed like a cute idea for Mom and me. How could I have known, that Wayne had arranged for him to come to the house that day?
"Why the fuck didn't you tell me, Wayne! And why the fuck did you have to flirt with him, Mom!" I yelled, trying to push my guilt off on them.
But they didn't make me continue to flirt--when I was alone with him. They didn't make me touch his cock--after I teased him hard. They didn't make me do anything.
Suddenly the phone rang, and when I saw the phone number, it hit me. I forgot to call to interview a potential babysitter recommended by a friend from work.
"Hello, Betsy. So sorry, I've been dealing with some urgent matters at hand, and completely forgot to call," I said, frantically.
"No problem. I know the feeling well; can we reschedule, or I'm free now if you are," she said, politely.
I took a deep breath. "Now's good." I gained my composure and went to the office to get my notes. "Rachel has great things to say about you. Let's see..." I found my notes and her resumé. "It looks like you've been doing this for twelve years now?"
"Yes, with six different families. I've been at the Wachowskis for about four, and their kids are old enough to take care of themselves now."
As the interview continued, I felt a sense of normalcy again, and we continued for around forty-five minutes. She said she could start tomorrow, but I told her my mother was here for another week, and I would talk to my husband and get back with her by tomorrow.
I hung up, and normalcy evaporated quickly. I looked at the table where I had been thoroughly and completely fucked, just a couple hours earlier, and the mind-numbing tingle returned--between my legs. That cock filled me completely, and the thought of never having that feeling again, made the emptiness I was experiencing, seem overwhelming.
Why did I touch it in the first place? I had to know there was no turning back after that, but I did it anyway. It was just so damn big compared to Wayne, or anyone I had ever been with.
As I replayed that moment and how it felt in my hand, I found myself getting aroused all over again. It was almost hypnotic. Once I touched it, I knew I had to have it in my mouth and feel it me.
I tried to clear my mind, but it was so good. We agreed it could never happen again, but for this one moment, I decided to allow myself to think about it one last time. My pussy tingled again with moist heat at the thought.
I would go get my vibrator and let my mind go there one final time. I would come as many times as I had to, to make sure I would be strong tomorrow, when he came back to finish the work in the yard. After that, I would never see him again.
My distended pussy began to take control of my thoughts, and I knew what I needed to do. I would fuck myself and yell into a pillow, what I had screamed in my kitchen as he fucked me. "I'm coming for your cock!" over and over.
I was reminded that 'cock-slut' Amy, loved the taste of his cum and really wanted him to unload in my mouth earlier, but he told me if he did, he wasn't sure he'd recover a third time to fuck me. I had to know what it felt like inside me.
If I had it to do over, I would have sucked his cock sooner, instead of jacking him off first. Damn, he came so much, it felt like my head and face were covered. And if I'd have known he was gonna pull out and come all over my back and ass, I would have turned and taken his jizz in my mouth then, too.
I couldn't believe how obsessed I was. Eight hours ago, I'd never heard of him. I'd never been that crazy about the taste of cum, or even obsessed with sex. After meeting him, or should I say 'it', I couldn't wait to get my dildo and fuck myself senseless for his cock.
I couldn't wait another minute. I left my phone on vibrate in my purse, so I wouldn't be disturbed and started toward the bedroom. I thought, there should be enough time before Mom got home with the girls. If not, I would finish in bed tonight. My pussy throbbed in anticipation when reality suddenly hit with a ring of the doorbell.
I knew it couldn't be Mark. He wasn't coming back until morning, and knew Mom would be back at any time. I thought maybe it was Mom, but she had the car with the garage door opener, so it couldn't be her. So, I went to the door frustrated that it was probably a salesperson. I would get rid of them and get down to business with my plastic buddy.
When I opened it, my heart fell into my stomach and my face betrayed me. It was Mark! still in the clothes he'd worked in. The tight tank-T and the way-too-tight jean shorts. He was typing on his phone, and I heard a series of beeps before he looked up with a grin.
My face, my body language, my audible sigh--all told him I was flustered by his presence.
"Well, hello Mrs. Stilson, you've missed me, I can see. My eyes darted to his bulge, though I told myself not to stare. The outline of his semi-hard cock was amazingly apparent through the denim fabric. Even the ridge of his cock head was discernible.
I found myself biting my lip, as my eyes locked on his manhood and when I realized I was, in fact, staring--I looked up to see his arrogant grin, knowing I was teetering. His hands were behind his back, seeming to only further push his cock front and center.
"Did you forget something, Mark?" I asked, trying to keep strong.
"No, Mrs. Stilson. There is no forgetting anything about today, I promise. But I did bring you a little something to remember me by, in case it was not so memorable for you."
I felt like I was in a fog. I could hear myself repeating in my head, don't stare at his cock; when I looked into his eyes, it felt like he knew my every thought.
"Is everything okay, Mrs. Stilson, you look a little flustered..."
I looked at it and he made it pulse with a rush of blood, pushing against the fabric like it might burst through.
"Are you still hungry, Mrs. Stilson?"
I didn't understand the question, as his cock had me in a trance-like state. I recalled how warm and hard it felt.
"Mrs. Stilson? Are you going to invite me in? It's damn hot today." He wiped his brow.
I looked up at him with his arrogant smirk.
"Yes, of course, please come in," I half stuttered.
"Would you have any more of that delicious lemonade, Mrs. Stilson?"
"Sure, let me get you some." I turned and broke my gaze and led him back to the kitchen, where I had been thoroughly and complete fucked just over two hours earlier.
"You make that outfit look very good, Mrs. Stilson," he said in a soft voice and finished with a sigh.
His words sent a tingling rush through me, and I fought releasing a sigh of my own. I was wearing black sweats and a white-and-orange Orioles jersey. My breathing was broken and my mouth dry, as the lump in my throat intensified.
When I reached the refrigerator, I pulled out the lemonade, and turned--he stood dangerously close, holding an elongated box wrapped in red and white striped wrapping paper. He immediately set it on the counter and gazed at me. His eyes let me know his thoughts and I gasped, as my hand holding the pitcher began to tremble.
"Let me help you with that, Mrs. Stilson." He took it and sat it on the counter. "I'm glad you deem me worthy of your lemonade now, Mrs. Stilson."
As he called me 'Mrs. Stilson' for the hundredth time that day, I recalled our earlier encounter, when I was still harmlessly flirting with him. I told him lemonade was reserved for friends, who called me Amy. When he persisted with Mrs. Stilson, I gave him water.
My eyes darted from his eyes to his cock, as I felt my will slipping away. Mom had not texted as she normally would, before heading home with the kids. She liked to give me warning to prepare for the chaos of their return. That realization unleashed a flurry of wicked thoughts and in a last hope that maybe he could reign us in, I spoke out.
"Mom and the kids could be home any time. I think you should--"
"We should hurry, Mrs. Stilson," he interrupted. "I parked down the block so no one would see my car was back."
I took a step back, and--unable to look him in the eye--my eyes betrayed me again and locked on his stiffening dick. The arrogance of parking down the block, assuming I would be weak, did not escape me.
"Please," I whimpered, and couldn't think what to say next.
"You thanked me for letting you experience your nasty little fantasy--'cock-slut for a day'. The day's not over, Mrs. Stilson. Go ahead, touch it one more time, Mrs. Stilson."
I couldn't break my gaze and there was that button on his shorts, exposed and begging for me to undo it, so I could release it again. My breathing seemed so loud in the otherwise silent kitchen. My body swayed, as I looked for the will to resist.
But at that moment, I only saw the bulge in those shorts. There were no thoughts that Wayne might call, or Mom and the kids would return. Only the thought of hot hardness in my hand again.
"There's my hungry little cock-slut," his voice said softly, as I mindlessly dropped to my knees and began to rub the length of his stiffening rod through the fabric. "Tell me what you want, Mrs. Stilson."
I rubbed him slowly, pressing my palm firmly against him. "I want this big, fucking-sweaty cock in mouth again." I reached for the button. Frantically, undid it and pulled the zipper down. "I want to feel those balls empty in my mouth," I said, as I yanked his shorts and underwear to his knees. His boner bounced, pointing at me, and I looked up at him. "After you come, I want to suck you hard, then beg you to fuck me on my kitchen counter!"
His hard-on glistened with pre-cum, and I plunged it into my mouth swirling my tongue on his sensitive spot. I loved hearing a man moan when my tongue hits his man-clit.
"Oh fuck, Mrs. Stilson, I love how you think." His head rolled back, and he grunted as I mouth-fucked him furiously.
"Damn, Mrs. Stilson, you're a fucking animal," he groaned.
I whined and whimpered, as my head bobbed wildly. Hearing his words, I nodded and sucked him faster.
"God damn! you're gonna make me cum, you little slut."
I nodded and whimpered.
