She didn’t take herself as that kinda person, I’m normal like everyone else. A good person, however I was driven to it.
It was fall, anyone could tell from the shift of vibrant green to a more warm orange-brown, and the gentle cold breeze. The season leading to the culling winter, which made space for new life.
Angelica was a teacher, wife, twenty-nine pushing thirty, and bored. Maybe married life had dulled my senses, perhaps I was still needing something more.
She glanced at the college kids across from her on the bus, tipsy, hands in places they shouldn’t be. The young woman dressed in tight skimpy clothes, and heavy makeup. The kind you at some point in life considered self-maintenance. They were likely all getting fucked that night.
A part of her longed for those long intoxicated nights, whether on alcohol, men. She found herself stroking a water bottle, and thinking dirty.
Pushing the thoughts aside she had to remind herself those days were behind her, gone forever, and she’d never get them back. She had responsibilities now, a husband.
At least she could say, she didn’t miss waking up shit-faced drunk.
Twisting her curly dirty-blonde hair to her delight she was referred by others as a milf, and sometimes passed as a senior college student. Youthful almond blue eyes, and beauty mark below the corner of her lip, hair had parted above her eyes reaching above her shoulders. She was aiming for more of a hot professor look, but she would take what she can get. Still thin in all the right places, she was voluptuous where men loved it.
That’s what her husband loved at least, part of her was convinced that’s what got him hooked. He was almost a year older, and met him through a friend at a bar several years ago. He was a good husband. Yet always busy.
Always good with friends. Which made her feel jealous.
And he truly loved her. But nightlife was unsatisfactory.
Putting the groceries down on the counter of their house, it was finally the day he got home early. It was 9:00pm.
——
“Fuck.” He exclaimed sitting beside her in a robe.
On their bed him in a robe her in see-through red strappy lingerie, he pulled and yanked at his flaccid cock trying to start it up like a broken engine. To no avail.
Is it stress. He was working in a high position of a retail company with a renown rival that’d been breathing down their necks, looking for any weakness.
Is he seeing someone else. He wasn’t bad looking, though he had a face you could love. Did he have a secret lover at the office.
Or was he tired of me.
“Sorry honey, I’m just too tired today.”
“It’s fine.” She gave a comforting smile, unmatched to her internal sigh.
Kissing her, he fell asleep almost as soon as he hit the pillow. Leaving her to the dark lustless night. Hot and bothered, she wanted him to get up and force himself on her, she wanted to play with his cock, or ride him. She wanted sex.
Rubbing her nipples, and aching pussy, it ached for more. Something she wouldn’t get.
—Someplace Else—
“How is the plan with are rivals.” A man with a stern voice said.
“Slow, at the moment were below current annual revenue projections. And are rival has gotten a twenty-percent increase in investors.”
Sitting on the couch of the building that towered over many, it was lighted by the low glow of a lamp.
“Hmm…” Stroking his grey streaked beard, he looked at her with determined eyes. “Opal initiate the plan, we cannot keep faltering.”
“Yes.”
——
The strong scent of alcohol, the annoyed faces of people as you skipped the line, ocean blue glow of the lights, the creation and dissolving of couples, it was the bar. She didn’t think she’d be back, but it was the weekend, and an old college friend invited her.
Opal, was gaudy and unnecessarily cunning. Chocolate brown hair dyed silver, it was long straight, and pushed to one side of her vixen's face. Slender, she wore a corset tight around her apple sized breast, and tight jeans. A blazer as well, it fit her business image. She welcomed her with a smile.
“Have you finally got bored of the housewife life,” smiling she ordered a round of tequila.
“Still sleeping with athletes.”
They laughed and drank.
“You’ve really become a wife,” she pointed to her outfit.
Wearing a beige tube-top dress and cardigan, she exchanged her rectangular glasses for contacts, and pulled out whatever heels in the closet she could find.
“Got any men thirsting for you at school.”
“Eh, they’re all old, or students… Also I’m married,” rolling the ring on her finger, it was rather loose on her hand.
“C’mon, let loose, have fun, no one will know. I recently found this new boy toy, he’s really great.”
She knew what she meant by great, it’s how they referred to men when they use to manage the sex reviews club. It was rather scandalous.
Her hand stroking the glass subconsciously those same gears that controlled walking, she felt the alcoholic warmth brush down to her legs. And that same burning voice came back, I want it, I need it, give it to me.
“I can't I have responsibilities, now that you mention relationships when will you get married.”
“Why would I ever do that when I got you, and those melons,” pointing to her chest which she reactively covered them, with one arm.
“Stop that,” she sighed.
“Also,” looking to the side Opal avoided her withering careful gaze. “I don’t want to live in a marriage where the sex-life is dull.”
“He’s a good husband,” she downed a glass.
“Really, so how is the night life.”
“...Next to nonexistent, though I’ll survive,” slightly sobbing on the inside, she leaned forward on the counter.
“Let’s have another glass, cheers to your new life.”
“Yeah.” She cheered disheartened.
Opal ordering vodka martini’s things were slowly going as planned.
“I gotta tell you about that bitch Sally, she’s been trying to sleep to the top.”
“That sounds like you.”
——
Several drinks later, her face was flushed, her tube-top dress was pulled down revealing cleavage, and she was incoherently rambling.
“My husband is awful at sex and doesn’t pay attention to me, I’m so lonely.”
“Right, right. You’ve said that three times.”
“Ah, my shoulders hurt.”
“I know a guy, Jason, remember the cute guy, he gives great massages.” Pointing to a young man amongst the crowd, he had short dirty-blonde hair swept to one side, fresh-faced, taller than her and built in all the right places.
“Fine, you got him on some leash.”
“The tightest.”
——
Back to her place somewhere she found familiar, she lived in an apartment suite near the top floor, where some sick joy in her enjoyed looking down on others. Though just like her she liked exhilarating things; the height of a roof and the uneasiness it brought, skinny dipping at night in the ocean, sex in the car.
My face hot, whether from alcohol or embarrassment I sat nude only a robe shielding my bosom. Beneath me a massage table, positioned in the middle of her spacious living room, Opal had left to get more alcohol.
Leaving just the two of them.
This is awkward. Apparently his name was Jason and he was three years younger than me. Though at the bar we exchanged nothing more than small talk.
“You might want to strip, it’s better for the massage.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Looking away, she untied the robe revealing her bountiful assets and tossing it to the side, laying face down on the table, he soon began.
His fingers caressing and applying pressure over her shoulders, he slowly moved down: to her arms, back, lower waist, then ass.
“If you feel any discomfort please say so.”
A way I’d describe his voice is trance inducing like caught in a hypnotic spell you could fall asleep too, and massage technique refined like the aches were going away, and she was flying.
As if groping her ass, he moved between her inner thigh his fingers sliding down her cunt.
“Eep!” She involuntarily moaned.
“Are you alright.”
“I-it’s fine.”
Heat gathering in her cunt, a lustful desire pushed her forward, or rather stopped her from resisting.
Electric like pulses running through her as he slid his fingers up and down, she resisted the urges to move biting the bottom of her lip.
Moving away she longed for that sexual touch, but he denied her as if saying, “if you want more, ask for it.” Feeling his hot gaze in her back, she turned to glance at him as he moved onto her legs.
A large tent forming in his pants, bigger than her husbands a thought crossed her mind.
It’s not cheating if he doesn’t cum inside me. Not even sex.
A smile growing on her face as a more wild side came to the surface, she shifted her foot as he finished tickling his crotch.
“You must be hurting down there,” she sat up facing him, poking at his hardened nether regions.
“But ma’am.”
“Consider it com-pen-sa-tion.” She put back on her robe.
A mad lust willing her forward, she put her wedding ring on the other hand unzipping his pants. Revealing a pinkish large hard schlong it was shaped like a banana bent upwards, slightly bigger than her husbands.
Taking some massage oil and dosing it over her hand, she gripped the cock slathering it in the oil caressing the angry head, and throbby base. Slowly jerking his rod from base to head, she sped up.
“C’mon, return the favor.” Guiding his hand to her crotch, she didn’t think he’d be that good. However she was wrong.
Middle and index finger rubbing her wet clit, he inserted them pushing to his knuckles aiming for the upper walls. Slightly squeezing her legs stimulation caused her to moan, sending tingles down her body.
Feeling a twitch she rapidly jerked his rod focusing on the head. His hand vibrating in response, he burst first. Hot ropes of cum shooting across her thighs, hands, some splashed on her stomach, and the rest drizzled down.
Not done yet, he continued pushing his fingers deep within her suckling on her tits.
“Ah my breast!”
Biting down on her nipple he had a rough sensual touch, unlike her gentle husband. Something she enjoyed. Stroking her tit, milk squirted out.
“It tastes sweet.”
“Just keep moving your fingers.”
Like a release on a pressure valve, she climaxed hugging his head tightly to her chest.
“I’d love another taste, my cock would as well.”
Already hard again, he inched closer to her glistening pussy begging to be filled. But she refused.
Pushing him back, she got on her knees stroking his cock.
“And I’d love a taste of your milk.”
Swallowing him and clenching around it, he moaned. Stroking the base in a semi-circular motion, she sucked on his rod swirling her tongue down the head to the throbby base. A salty taste, a hint of bitterness came from the head drizzled in pre-cum. A taste she was familiar with, a taste she loved. His face swirling with pleasure, as he resisted the urge to cum she played with his balls. Letting go with her hand she toke his cock further into her mouth, her suctioning lips reaching his base.
Eyes upturned as bitter semen flooded her mouth, she swallowed the slimy substance leaving with a kiss to the head, and licking her lips.
“That was great.”
“Ready for another round.”
“Huh.”
“You still got a lot of semen, and I got a lot of energy.”
Draining him for the next hour it ached and laid limp at the side of his thigh, as he lay slumped on the coach. Even when sobered halfway through, she hadn’t stopped, it was a want, a desire, something that still burned in her cunt. But that would be cheating.
She had a husband. It couldn’t be considered cheating if she just gave him a blowjob, she was just helping the young man out. She rationalized.
Did Opal set this up, to join her back to how we were in college? Anyway, I should thank her.
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