Chance Encounter Ch. 04

Jean took C's penis between her fingers and squeezed its base. She didn't want him cumming, not until her needs had been met. He groaned equal parts pain and frustration. She knew he wouldn't have lasted much longer; his little penis was twitching uncontrollably, what began as a seep was now a steady flow of precum. His penis she knew was about to blow.

The squeeze pulled him from subspace back to reality. His eyes no longer looked glassy and his focus returned to her.

She said, "I have a treat for you, but first you need to earn it."

He sounded wary, "What do you need me to do?"

She smiled, "Trust me. You'll enjoy it as much as me."

They were already in the middle of the bed. She threw the covers off of them and declared, "All this talk has gotten me horny. I want your mouth on me."

C thought she meant her pussy, but she said, "Not there. On my ass. I want you to worship it with your tongue."

She rolled away from him and onto her stomach, opened her legs and waited to see if he would obey. She didn't have long to wait for a few seconds later he was on his stomach his face between her buttocks, his mouth glued to her anus.

Several years earlier and by accident she realized she could orgasm from having her butthole tongued. He attempted to work his tongue into her but she was too tight. She directed him to get the bottle of olive oil they used. He lubricated his fingers and while his mouth focused on other parts of her bottom he inserted one then two fingers into her rectum. It felt good, but what felt better was when he replaced his fingers with his mouth. She could feel his tongue entering her and implored him to french kiss her. What they were doing was so nasty. At times she still couldn't believe there was a side of her so perverse as to want her cuck's tongue up her ass. She would never let another man do what her cuck did. It was too intimate, too dirty.

The pressure of the mattress against her clitoris and his tongue brought her to orgasm. She panted, "I need to be filled. Fuck me in the ass cuck."

And fuck her he did. He hadn't been inside her in so long he behaved more like a virgin 18 year old about to get his first piece of tail than the experienced middle aged man he was. His hands were shaking as he dripped the olive oil along the length of his penis. He got on top of her and guided himself into her. It was the second time she was glad he was small; the other was when she sucked him.

He enjoyed penetrating the tight ring and finding himself in the warmth of her rectum. He knew he wouldn't last long and suspected it would be a long time before he was in her again so he tried to make every stroke slow and shallow. His hips however had a mind of their own and he found himself like a dog humping its owner leg, giving it everything he could. Jean encouraged him to thrust hard. He came so hard his balls ached afterwards.

He didn't stop until she expelled him. He was breathing hard.

Jean's head was turned to the side. She didn't look at him. She just told him, "You know what to do next." He did having learned long ago what he deposited he cleaned up.

His face between her cheeks he probed her bottom with his tongue as she squeezed out the mixture of cum and olive oil. Jean came again her arousal fueled not only because it felt so good, but because of its depravity. Her husband she thought would do anything to please her. His wonderful tongue was inside her, his lips had made a vacuum on her rosebud sucking up the mixture of semen and oil. The act was unconditional as was his love. He adored her. His unbridled passion was solely for her. It heightened her pleasure knowing she still captivated him, that he spoiled her after all these years with the same selflessness in their early years together. Their marriage she reminded herself was a match made in heaven. She wanted to scream when she orgasmed but instead pushed her face into the pillow and used it to muffle her groans as she orgasmed.

Jean lay there as C gradually wound down his licking and sucking. He knew she thought how to take her up the mountain and how to bring her back down. He slowed the movement of his mouth moving to less sensitive areas. She told him to stop. She twisted her head to look at him. His face was shiny from the oil and there was a moustache of cum on his upper lip. He looked comical and cute. She saw him again as a 19 year old.

She smiled at him and he smiled back.

She said, "Cuck, that was more than incredible. It was out of this world."

C answered, "Thanks. I could tell you were enjoying it."

"And C, did you enjoy your treat."

He replied, "Oh God yes. It was great. It made me realize how much I missed being in you, penetrating you."

"I liked you fucking me too. You're the right size for my ass. What I really liked was your mouth. You look so cute right now."

His face was a mixed bag: bashful as he liked complements but didn't handle them well, proud of himself, and adoring. He adored her.

"You look so kissable right now C, but before I put my lips on yours you need to wash your face and clean my bottom. And C, you have something on your upper lip."

Out of habit he ran his tongue out and licked the strand of cum off his lip.

"That's better," she said, "Now go get cleaned up and clean me. Then come to bed. I want you to sleep with me tonight."

C jumped off the bed, went to the bathroom, cleaned his face, penis, and fingers, and returned with a warm washcloth and hand towel. Jean opened her legs further as he lovingly wiped up the oil from between her buttocks. C patted her dry and then rained little kisses on her buttocks when he was done.

They both enjoyed this moment as it was a rarity in their lives. They felt so connected but the role between cuck and husband and wife and queen blended into one. Each had no problem playing both roles.

Jean turned over and pulled C towards her. She kissed him; he returned her kiss. His breath and mouth tasted she thought of mint. She thought how George's kisses were so different, his lips rubbing against hers, his lips moving down her neck, it was hot, but it wasn't better. C's kisses were so good.

There was plenty left to tell C, but it was late. They both had to work in the morning. She thanked him for the wonderful evening and even better reception. "It's been so long C, hasn't it?"

He answered, "Yes, it has."

She whispered, "You missed it didn't you? I know I did."

He whispered back, "I have."

She had to ask, "So you want more nights like this?"

No hesitation in his reply, "Yes."

She looked at him, "So do I. I thought I might have forgotten how to treat you, but it came back so easy. Like riding a bike. I didn't know how you'd react. I just went with my gut."

He looked back at her, "Your intuition has always been good."

She smiled, kissed him as a reward for the compliment, "You treat me so good C."

She sensed hesitation in his voice, "Was it good for you Jean? I wanted it to be."

She knew his guilt was at work in his question. He really felt bad being such a poor fuck, but he made up for it in so many other ways. She had never had a problem orgasming with him; it just never happened solely from penetration. She initially manipulated his guilt, using it to her advantage, but as she figured out what made him tick, used it for their mutual enjoyment.

She needed to cheat. She needed the pleasure a big cock brings. He needed the humiliation and abuse.

She looked at him. She never lied to him and wasn't about to start, "Yes, C. It was better than good. It was wonderful. Even though you're my husband and best friend, I'm thinking about him right now longing for his dhakari wanting him to fill me with his maani. It gives me goosebumps in a good way."

She knew her words pained him, but they also aroused him. She knew if she put her hand on his penis she would sense it stiffening. Years ago, he would have had an erection right away, but now he needed more recovery time. She really hadn't changed, as orgasmic as ever, her sex drive higher than ever.

C didn't have to ask her to translate. He wondered just how big this new man, George, was. He mentally drew a picture of them, her much lighter skin against his very dark, the shaft of his cock very dark, a mixture of his melanin and the blood coursing through it, seeing it enter her bright pink slit, pumping in and out, her face contorted in pleasure, his expression serious until the last few minutes when he pumped faster and deeper, his balls getting tighter, the head of his cock pressed against her cervix, his efforts on one objective, to climax, his cock throbbing as it delivered sprays of cum that painted her cervical cap.

His penis was hard again, twitching with excitement.

She told C, "I hope he calls me and soon."

C understood. The drought was over. The monsoon had arrived late, but it was here. The crops would grow and all would be well. He sensed her attraction to him went beyond the size of his cock. She liked being the center of attention. On his arm they drew stares. She prided herself in being a cuckoldress. She wasn't the only one in their marriage with a fetish. She felt drawn to men of the cloth, especially priests. She believed what she did God didn't just forgive, but sanctioned. He gave her a free pass because she gave herself so willingly and with such passion to his shepherds.

She yawned, but had to ask one thing before drifting off, "C, do you believe in love at first sight?"

He answered, a lump in his throat, "Yes. I suppose so. Why?"

She said, "I think I'm in love with George and we just met." Knowing her frankness hurt, she lifted her nightgown offering C a breast. He lowered his head and took her breast into his mouth.

She moaned, "That's it C. Suck your cheating wife's tit." She caressed his scalp and drifted off to sleep as he sucked and imagined the two of them being in love. Worrying he might lose her made his penis throb harder and the ache in his heart greater. He stayed latched onto her breast long after the throbbing turned to twitches and his cum shot out in a rapid succession of contractions.