Adulterous Respite

They had planned a small afternoon party at their house for that Saturday. And, it was only now, in the midst of the nervous excitement fluttering at the back of her stomach, that Beth marveled at the series of circumstances leading to this very moment. Had she known in some mischievous, slightly devious, way that the probability of Jason being called into work today was fairly high? Surely, she couldn't have known that Autumn's youngest would come down with a fever this morning. Yet, it just seemed to fall into place, like it was supposed to happen, that she was standing here in the kitchen so close to, and alone with, her husband's younger first cousin. A second thought was overlapping the last in her mind; the word 'fever' lingered provocatively. Certainly, she was having a different sort of fever herself. She could feel the flushing of her skin on the back of her neck and, oddly, her knees as well. Was this so wrong, when it all fell into place so naturally?

She chanced a glance at his bare back. Ron was standing behind her and to her left, peeling carrots at the sink and wearing only board shorts. The fact that he was younger than her husband meant nothing to her. She herself was considerably younger than Jason and she was only a few months Ron's elder. She had always known him as an equal and had never had the older-sibling perspective that her husband still clung to. No, it all felt quite natural to her. Standing here in her bikini top, a towel around her waist, preparing a salad with him only a few feet away. They weren't completely alone, of course. The children were in the yard, just outside the window, having a wonderful time with their cousins in the shallow stand-up pool. Her youngest, the one she would have to worry about near the water, was asleep in her room. At this moment, this very perfect moment, she could totally relax, sip her margarita, and pretend she couldn't hear the hoots and hollers just outside.

He was crossing behind her, to the refrigerator for something, brushing her long hair slightly so that it moved gently across her back. She held her breath so that she wouldn't inhale. It was part of the game they were playing; she couldn't openly let on how he was making her feel. But, he knew. They both understood what they were doing. He certainly didn't have to brush her hair, and it was no accident. He also didn't have to leave his shirt outside.

She turned around to grab a bowl from the cupboard behind. It was timed well, and she bumped into him, face to face has he turned away from the fridge. They laughed, a light giggly laugh, and their eyes lingered into one another's long enough to share it. They each joked a word or two about clumsiness then stepped around each other, their hips brushing as they passed. She turned back to the island, she hadn't needed a bowl after all. He was rinsing an onion now. She glanced at him again. His massive shoulders rippled as he worked the knife in hand. The nape of his lower back glistened with a light sheen of sweat. She didn't mind. It was good sweat. The sweet sweat of a handsome man. And he was handsome. Not terribly so, but real. He was charm and kindness. There were no judgements between them; they had their own spouses for that. They shared sympathy and understanding. They both knew the labors of love. The turmoil of marriage. They were compatriots of a war each waged on another battlefront, and they could share their stories openly, without judgment.

He was big man, with the typical slight over-build of an American male in his early 30's. And, he was fit enough that he carried his weight without looking obese. If she were to judge, she would have to give her husband the nod in the looks category. But she wasn't judging and Ron was more than attractive enough to turn her head. Certainly, he didn't judge her. And the glances she had caught him making told her exactly where his mind was. As for herself, she knew she was no model. Three children and time had taken their toll, but she wasn't outside of society's parameters either. In fact, with this new swimsuit and her summer tan, she was feeling quite proud of herself. Glancing down at the thought of her new suit reminder her that half of it was still in the bathroom. On a fanciful whim, she had left the bottoms off after coming in from the pool and using the toilet. Leaving them in full sight on the side of the tub, she was quite certain he would have seen them when he traded the use of that room with her. And here she was now, in the sweltering heat of the summer afternoon, naked under the towel around her waist, with only the small fabric of her triangle top to cover her breasts, having a wonderful time flirting with a married man while her husband sat at a desk miles away. And it was all so natural and innocent to her, that she felt it was exactly what she needed.

He was beside her now with a bowl of onions and carrots which he set down near the head of lettuce in front of her. How long had she been standing there, staring at the lettuce, waiting for him to make a move? Now his arm was against her shoulder and as he reached across for the salad tongs his forearm slid across the front of her top. Beneath the damp fabric, her skin goose-bumped and she felt the cold tension that marked her nipple hardening in response to his touch. This time, she did inhale and he immediately withdrew his arm, keeping contact with her breast as long a possible as he did so. She looked up into his grinning brown eyes.

"Player," she joshed.

His grin widened, "Well."

They shared another moment before he began tearing the lettuce into the bowl.

"You're still pretty wet," he commented, a sly look slightly altering his grin.

"So are you," she replied. A sudden and daring inspiration had struck her, "Maybe I should put this up to dry?" and she gestured to her top. It was, of course, just silly to think that either of them were uncomfortably cold from their damp suits in the heat of the kitchen.

They slyness of his grin grew, "Well, I wouldn't want you to catch cold." She quickly crossed to the window over the sink and looked sideways to the children slightly below. They were fine, as she already knew from momentarily tuning-into their voices. He had crossed the kitchen as well and was now leaning against her to see out the window. The left side of his bare chest pressed against the back of her right shoulder. His hip pressed against hers. She looked back over her shoulder as best she could without moving her head; again, the game. And looking into his face, she intentionally ignored his proximity to her. They stood unmoving for a moment longer. The tension of the moment welling around them. Then she slid herself around to face him and they stood upright, their bodies just barely touching.

"Here, let me help," he said, as he reached around her and found the lower ties of her suit beneath the trailings of her hair. Ever so slowly, he pulled the loose ends of the knot until it gave way. She felt the weight of her breasts fall forward, pushing into his chest as the lower ties of her top fell to her sides.

"Why, thank you," she chimed and slipping past him she crossed the kitchen reaching her hands up to the back of her neck to untie the top of her suit. She flung the suit carelessly across the island and onto the dining table.

Picking up a knife and tomato, she asked, "Aren't you uncomfortable?" Taking his cue, and perhaps not quite believing his luck, he somewhat awkwardly removed his shorts. She watched out of the corner of her eye, doing her best to feign nonchalance. For a moment, he reminded her somewhat of child struggling with a birthday present. It was charming, amusing and playful. But as he tossed his trunks on top of her suit, he regained his cool and crossed behind her. It was business now. He was impressively erect; the boy had given way to the man. His desire was burning as strong as hers. She could feel the heat from him as he stood so close behind her.

There was no turning back now. With mounting excitement tickling all over her like a shower of fine mist, she felt his fingers run down her back from shoulders to hips. His fingertips turned to hands on her hips and gently, yet firmly he turned her to face him. She averted his eyes and instead focused on his firm chest. His hands slid up her sides. She felt them warm against her body. As they neared her armpits, they crossed across her chest and then down over her breasts. He was pressing hard against her. Her husband's cousin was standing in their kitchen, naked, his powerful hands kneading her breasts, squeezing deep into her flesh.

She tilted her head back and let it roll weightless as she closed her eyes. She could feel the let down inside her breasts. The release of tension as her mammary glands were stimulated and the warm, relaxing pleasure it brought her. He was bending now and gently biting her neck. She put her hand on his shoulders, digging her fingernails in. Not too much, Autumn mustn't know. Now he was on his knees, taking a breast into his mouth. It was wet and hot. Similar to the sensation growing between her legs. He was biting, now sucking. Did he know? Could he taste the milk coming from her and flowing into his mouth? Had he done this with his own wife or did she keep them away from him? This was something she had only shared with her husband. And now she was giving it to another man; feeding another man.

The thought of the gift she was giving increased her sense of control. It was her turn, he had had enough. She lifted him up from her and they stood together, their naked skin hot against one another. She backed him away from the island and against the counter opposite. His manhood was firm against her abdomen. A warm drip smeared across her skin. Beth bit into his massive shoulders and then dragged her tongue across his chest and then down. She weaved her tongue over his nipples, across and down, around his navel and down again. She would tease him. She would control him just enough that he would be forced to obey. Ron was sighing, leaning back against the counter, his head now rolled back. She imagined his eyes closed. He needed this as much as she. They needed the release from their lives; their marriages. This moment was theirs to control, to share as they wished. They didn't have to deliberate, compromise, or concede to anyone. It was this moment of pleasure right now.

She was now licking around and over his scrotum, his pubic hair tickling her nose and lips. She could taste the chorine from the pool and the salt of his sweat upon his skin. She sucked one of his balls into her mouth and he instinctively flexed away, backing into the counter. She gently sucked him and he gasped to control himself. The pleasure she was giving him was burning between her own thighs. She could feel the moisture spreading down and out. He had moved his hands from the counter and was running his fingers through her hair, playing with the length of it. She knew he was beginning to lose himself, soon she would have to trade back some of the control she had taken. It was time to share again.

She released his testicle from her mouth, feeling her spit run down her chin. She slid her tongue along the bottom of his swollen penis, to the salty tip. Gingerly, she ran her tongue around and around the head, tasting him. Her husband loved when she did this to him. But now he was gripping her hair in his hands. She pulled the towel from her waist and changed from the squat she had been holding placing her knees on the floor. Spread wide, she ran her fingers between her thighs and into her labia to find her clitoris. He was pulling her hair now, begging for her to take him into her mouth. She finally conceded. Parting her lips, she exchanged some power and filled her mouth with his cock.

They were sharing now. Together in the moment, he pulled her hair, harder and harder as she slid her mouth up and down his pulsing shaft. She wiggled her fingers across her clit and in and out of her vagina. She was dripping down her legs and onto the floor. Drool was running down her cheeks as she tried to take every last bit of him inside her. Her pleasure was climbing, deeper and deeper, harder and harder, her fingers in her pussy and his cock in her mouth; together they filled her. He was groaning and panting, his hands now doing the work of moving her head for her.

Faster and harder he was slamming her face into his crotch, gagging her, choking her. She held on, trying to breathe. His balls were slamming into her chin, his hand yanking at her hair, pleasure and pain were becoming one. All sounds and sensations were lost in the climax of the moment. And, she was there, her body shuddering, shaking. She was gasping, crying out around the cock shoved deep down her throat. And he was flexing, tension strained to a peak, he crushed her face into himself, shoving himself deep inside, holding her as his penis pulsed and throbbed. Hot cum was shooting down her throat and she was swallowing to keep from choking. Swallowing to keep it down... And then she was sucking and licking; cleaning him, as he pulsed and softened. His hands were gentle again. Running his fingers through her hair. She slipped his limpness from her mouth and looked up again into his brown eyes looking down into hers. Their moment was done. They had escaped together.