Coffee & Cream

I married Michel three months ago and was as happy as I thought a woman could be. In the six months since we met the one thing I knew and the most important thing in my life was that he loved me. It was only icing that he was well off and a wonderful lover. I still know that he loves me but a bit of a 'wrinkle' came up three weeks ago. I found him in bed with his mother.

We were all going out for dinner and we were to meet at our home at seven. My mistake was coming home at four. As I entered the house I heard noises in the bedroom: noises I very well recognized, noises of fucking. As I looked in through the half open door my first reaction was the last one I would have predicted. I thought, "That is the most stunningly beautiful woman I have ever seen."

Bianca's full head of curly black hair was cascading around her face down her shoulders. Her mocha skin was all the same hue no matter where you looked. Her dark eyes make her look more Greek than the Italian that she is. Her full conical breasts rose and fell gracefully as her hips rose and fell over her son's cock, over my husband's cock.

I was magnetized to the scene of passion. As she rocked on him, their hands were in constant motion: touching, teasing and searching. The words of love that passed between them were inflaming. I watched as she got off him and took her son's slick cock into her mouth. He moaned as his mother ministered to him. She licked and sucked the long shaft that I thought was for my mouth alone. I could taste what she tasted.

His mother then got on all fours and said, "Michel I want you here."

I was fascinated and in a crazy way I was jealous. We had never talked about it but I knew that we had never made love that way because I was afraid I was too small for him there. He was in his mother's ass and she seemed transported. I could almost make out the sweat pouring off them as she touched herself and began to come. As she came she made a sound I can only call a howl.

I should have been appalled, I should have been furious; I should not have been wet. I turned with the chaos of my thoughts and left.

I walked for two hours wondering what to do. Is my marriage over? How could I have been so wrong? Why today of all days when I was going to tell…and with every thought my foolish heart kept feeling, "He loves you Jessica, he loves you."

I went home in a tired stupor not having decided anything. I was quiet through dinner claiming a headache. I observed them and was surprised that I saw no hint of conspiratorial looks between them. They were both kind and solicitous to me. I thought that I must be out of my mind because I felt as if they both loved me.

We dropped Bianca off at her house, which is minutes from ours in the development and we went home. I wanted to talk to Michel but didn't know where to start. As soon as we got home Michel started kissing me. There was no duplicity and nothing obligatory about it. His kissing was filled with love and desire for me. I couldn't help but respond. Even knowing what I knew, his touches, his fingers, his hands still said more than just "I want you." I was lost in his lovemaking.

As we rested and he nestled me in his arms I said, "Michel, I saw you today with your mother."

I heard him whisper softly, "Oh no."

"Tell me Michel, so I can understand."

There was a long exhale before he began. "Jessica, you must know first that I love you and I married you because I can't be without you. I never wanted to hurt you and I thought I could keep that part of my life separate."

"I know you love me Michel but I have to understand this."

"It started after my father died and we had to get the business that he was about to start off the ground. You know how mother and I worked for years to make it successful but you don't know how hard it was on her. She was worried all the time. She went without food and most nights she spent without sleep. One evening she was curled up on the couch next to me and I began stroking her back. She was soothed and fell asleep. It became our ritual: the only way she could fall asleep was with me touching her. I was soon in her bedroom and my hands were under her nightgown, and then there was no nightgown; there were only my hands on all of her. We made love for five years before you came to work for me."

"Why did you want me, why did you even talk to me? I'm not as beautiful as she is and you already had her Michel; so why?"

"Because I got to know you Jessica and the more I knew, the more I loved you. I didn't think this would happen. I didn't think I would love you this way and then I thought I could give her up - and I tried. I couldn't do it. I love you both and that's where I stopped. Tell me what to do; I love you both"

"Oh God Michel, I don't know what to tell you."

We held each other for a long time and then my husband made love to me again: quiet soft love that soothed me through the night. His fingers explored the places that only he would know. When he reached into my ass I was glad. I fantasized it was his cock but I was still afraid. I held his stiff rod and urged it into my waiting center. My husband was taking me, loving me. When I came, it was as I always came with him: I knew nothing but the flow of my cum, nothing but the place to which orgasm takes me. When I awoke I was alone with my doubts and fears. I took them to where I had been taking them since I met her, to Bianca.

I had always been able to talk to her and up until now she had become my best friend. I felt things couldn't get more complicated and perhaps she could help simplify them; of course I was wrong.

I went to her and just came out with it. She told me her story. How it happened was the same, why it happened was not. She said, "When Michel lost his father he was lost and he had no confidence. He'd only been with one girl and I was his source and his stability. When he first started touching me I knew what he wanted and what he needed. I let him feel loved through his caresses and then it became more. It became what I needed and wanted. I was always a very sexual person and it was always for me an expression of love."

She told me he always spoke of his love for me and that the last time was her fault. They had broken it off and she had gotten needy and selfish. Bianca began to cry and I held her. She began stroking my hair and I let her. She kissed me gently and I let her. She took me where I wanted to go. As she found my places I knew why Michel was such a good lover; this woman had taught him. She had shown him where to touch and where to taste - as she did now. She had shown him where a woman is and how to get there.

Bianca told me I was beautiful and while I was with her I believed it. She called me a Botticelli Venus because I'm so fair. She told me she loved to look through my translucent skin at the beautiful fine green veins that are visible on my breasts and thighs: the veins I despised as a young girl, the veins I saw differently now. She made love to me and wouldn't let me touch her. She said, "Today is for you alone."

Her full lips took me into her mouth and what she did to my clit I can only call exquisite pain. No one had ever done that to me. Her tongue teased as if it knew me. She pleasured me to a place it didn't seem possible to stay without coming. When I finally crested and she allowed me to come, it was the sweetest release. I thought, "Everyone should come once in their life – like that."

When I left, Bianca again said that I must tell Michel - all. As I pulled into my driveway I thought, "If I was confused before, there is no word to describe this."

That evening, I began by telling Michel about Bianca and me. As it turned out, I didn't have to say the rest. His response was joyous laughter. He said, "I can just imagine you two together; you must look like porcelain and mahogany… or better yet, coffee and cream."

He unbuttoned my top and exposed my breasts. He massaged my nipples between his fingers and as I felt the moisture appear between my legs I heard him say, "You're pregnant aren't you?"

I was surprised, but I said, "Yes, how did you know?"

He kissed me for a long time and smiled, "I can see your fullness and your pink nipples turning to mocha. Why didn't you tell me as soon as you knew?"

"I was confused with all that was going on and I didn't know how you felt. We said we would wait a while and I …I was also afraid you would find me ugly and not want to make love to me any more once I got fat."

He laughed, "I'm going to love you forever, no matter what you look like."

He took me with more love than he had ever shown. He kept touching, and kissing my soon to be swollen belly. He was happy and so was I. He put himself in me and was so gentle I had to pull him in to get all of him. I laughed and said, "Michel I won't break because I'm pregnant: I still want you to do me."

He did. I wanted it all from him now. I wanted him in all of me. I offered myself as his mother did and he took my slick juices and washed his hardness with them. He worked the thick knob past the ring of my ass and as he pushed into my tightness he kept repeating, "Jessica my sweet wife." My name sounded like love in his mouth. I forgot my fears and I loved him having me there.

And as he pleasured me I knew it would be all right. I knew that Bianca would be part of this family and all the possibilities danced in my head. I knew that we would share love and that we would fulfill each other and I knew that we would be the cream in each other's coffee.