Fantasy Chronicles #03

Wifey is a great fuck. I really have little to complain about. Sure, she could suck my cock more often, but I have never heard a guy who didn't lament the same shortcoming in his wife. And certainly there are intermittent, long stretches (by my internal lust clock) when my frustration mounts due to "not getting any" as we like to say.

When hours roll over into days without having sex, the world of lust and fantasy in my mind expands exponentially. In the afterglow when I have emptied my balls inside of her, my fantasies are mostly about her. As time moves along, perhaps just minutes or hours later, the perimeter widens to include whatever stimuli meets my eyes. When that season extends longer, again we are talking no more than a day, my world of lust boils over like the spewing, hot lava erupting from a volcano. It churns and flows, consuming whatever is in its path.

These volcanic convulsions of lust are not rare. In fact, they are a constant in my life. Although always sequestered within the boundaries of my mind, the heat of that lust-lava is fueled by what my senses take in, mostly through the eyes. Thus, wifey's oft' repeated warning-slash-permission to me is both a blessing and a curse when she reminds me, "You can look, but you cannot touch."

This is her way of reminding me that she knows I am not perfect. I am a guy. I am not blind. She understands my appreciation of the female body. But there is a clear line marking the boundaries. I can look AND touch wifey all I want, within reason of course. But, when it comes to all others, I can ONLY look and NEVER touch. It is a compromise that works well for us, most of the time.

I say most of the time, because there are moments when the "perfect storm" of lust can feel overpowering. When key elements collide, there is a volatile and powerful energy that tugs me perilously close to that boundary line. These key elements are composed of the following:

1. We have not fucked for a few days,

2. I have free time on my hands,

3. Sweet, female curves greet my eyes.

This is where potentially explosive eruptions are conceived. This is when I fight my hardest to corral my cock and abide by our "look but don't touch" agreement.

Today was such a day. It has been four long days since I last fucked wifey. Three days ago, I enjoyed a quality cum-shot when she joined me in the shower and offered me the soapy, slippery crack between her ass cheeks; I slid my cock like a hot dog in a bun until I shot a nice load up her lower back. Two days ago, wifey was out for the evening at some women's charity event. Home alone for a few hours, I chatted online and jerked off - twice.

Yesterday, I thought a wake-up fuck session was brewing when she cut me off. Later that morning while leading our executive staff meeting in the conference room, my eyes feasted on the big-titted, MILF that one of our department chairs introduced as our newest administrative assistant. Not sure what her administrative skill set was, but she certainly had visible assets that didn't hurt her. She was in her mid-twenties, blonde, and had a toddler in our onsite childcare. By the time our meeting had ended, I had mentally unbuttoned her blouse and pealed away her bra a dozen different times.

As the staff meeting adjourned, I made sure to walk over and give my personal welcome and greeting to Keri. Her bust-filled blouse was an even better view up close. I am NOT into sexual harassment nor the pesky litigation it can bring. I made sure to remain outwardly professional, even as my mind rapidly updated my index of images used to fuel my lust. Then later that day, not once, but twice, I found plausible reason to wander the office complex on a path that took me directly by Keri's tits... er desk.

By the time I got home, I had mentally nurtured at least a dozen different moments of hardon pleasures throughout the day with Keri front and center. Of course, the minute I saw wifey upon my arrival home, her gorgeous 36c tits stuck out to me like two sirens daring me to follow their songs. I fondled her as I gave her a kiss hello. As she politely guided my hands to the less erogenous zone of her hips, she spoke with a neutral tone, perhaps even a touch of intolerance, "Hard day at the office, eh?"

Her words may have playfully danced with double-meaning, but her tone was all business. I knew her plenty well-enough to know that whatever the next half-hour entailed, it definitely would not be a welcome home fuck. Before I could even answer her question, I heard an unfamiliar voice echoing down the hallway that led to the patio area out back.

Wifey answered my confused look. "That's Anita. She is a marketing rep for the firm that is pushing our Community Fundraiser. Karen and I are meeting with her on the patio to discuss her promotional strategies. We won't be much longer."

I nodded and smiled. That wifey was so engaged in helping others pleased me. That it sometimes meant I didn't get as much of her as I craved frustrated me. It was a noble trade-off.

I admired the view of her sexy, married ass walking back towards the patio. My mind expertly traced the panty lines her tight jeans revealed. I nonchalantly wandered a few steps behind her, not only extending my view of her ass but also giving me a chance to update my mental lust index of Karen. She was a hottie for sure!

I casually waved as I poked my head out the French doors and eyed Karen and Anita. "Hello ladies." Karen waved back and smiled at me, that brief movement of her arm feeding my eyes with the view of her sweater pulling against her tits.

Anita shyly waved with less enthusiasm. Her business suit offered me little to no insight regarding how hot her body might be. But from the looks of her coal-black hair and dark brown eyes that charmed her cute face, I knew it had to be good.

I wandered upstairs to change clothes. By the time I had navigated the 17 steps of the winding staircase, my mind had sorted out various images of Keri's tits, wifey's ass, Karen's tits, and Anita's pacific islander beauty. As I unzipped my slacks, I thought to myself 'right now I could fuck any of them.' Of course, reality quickly reminded me that I could only fuck one of them ~ wifey ~ and she did not seem to be available at the moment.

I explored the opportunity to jerk off as I spied the two women with my wifey on the patio. As I peaked out our bedroom window I had hoped to perhaps get a private peak down blouse of one of the ladies. But Karen's sweater was uncooperative and Anita's conservative shirt was secured at the collar with a ribbon-like bow. Wifey was in view as well, but I choose to look past her for the moment.

The rest of the evening served up several other empty promises of potential lust-filled moments. By the time wifey pecked me on the cheek with a kiss that signaled "not tonight", I was carrying more than a full 24 hours of cum inventory in my balls and almost three days of pent up fuck-lust.

This morning, I awoke with a hardon that was being pushed by almost a full 36 hours of cum begging to be released. Wifey had already slipped out of bed without waking me. I rolled out of bed, naked as usual, and couldn't help but admire how fucking hard my cock was. Morning erections always seem to be especially stiff and hard.

I grabbed my robe and draped it over my shoulders and went wifey hunting. I found her downstairs in her pre-shower tee and panties, sipping on a cup of coffee as she stood looking at the dining room window. Our view of the ocean was spectacular. So was my view of her ass.

I sauntered in and cuddled up behind her. The sound of my steps had signaled my arrival long before my arms wrapped around her waist. Then the incredible bulge of my morning hardon pressed against her ass and signaled something else. She quickly jerked me to my senses as she gently turned her head to look at me over her shoulder and softly queried, "Did someone forget it was their turn to speak at the monthly intern breakfast?"

"Damn!" I blurted out. I had totally forgotten about it! I looked at the clock. It read 6:43 AM. The breakfast was scheduled for seven! I am not sure which was quicker; my shower or the disappearing act of my morning hardon.

Somehow I managed to arrive at the midtown, restaurant, banquet room late for breakfast but on time for my informal comments to the interns. I brushed off the "good morning sleepy-head" from my partner and put my best professional foot forward as I engaged with the interns.

There were 13 in all. All but two of them were college or grad students. Although my morning rush had chased my morning hardon into hiding, it didn't take long to recharge my flow of lust as I discreetly enjoyed the view of several of the female interns.

The eye-fetching curves and sexual energy that radiates from college-aged women is always a treat to me. But this morning included those other elements of days without fucking, a near capacity load of cum aching for release, and the prospect of a morning with nothing on my schedule.

As I spoke, I made repeated eye-contact with the interns. I offered both encouragement and challenge. I attempted to both inspire them and remind them that they were being held accountable. My stern words were buffered by my warm smile. My assurances were bordered by my businesslike tone. I worked hard to strike a balance.

I also worked hard to keep my secret thoughts safely compartmentalized away from the words coming out of my mouth. As my mouth spoke of "commitment and integrity", my mind refreshed my lust index with precision as my eyes quickly traced the perky outline of the nipples faintly hinted under the cotton shirt on Mary, the 21 year old UCLA student. As I offered further comments of substance, my eyes darted from intern to intern, allowing me brief, discreet, dips of focus on the perky breasts professionally adorned but impossible to hide from my secret, lust vision.

By the time our breakfast ended, I had restocked my mind with so many images of potential pleasure that my cock twitched with excitement.

I went to the office to check in. Indeed, my scheduling secretary confirmed that my calendar was open for the morning. I decided to make another journey that invited my eyes to check out Keri and make sure her big-tits were amply admired by my discreet glances. I smiled and greeted her, even as my mind taunted me with the thoughts of how those breasts were not far removed from having nursed that toddler of hers. Those swollen nipples and milky breasts must have been a wonder to see.

I then wandered away from the office and to my car. I knew where I was going, even though I did not bother to let my secretary know I was even leaving.

Fifteen minutes later, I was home. Wifey smiled up at me as I walked into the kitchen. She was still in her pre-shower tee and panties. "I had a feeling you would be back."

My cock jumped so fast and so hard that I was certain it made a noise. Wifey leaned in and opened her mouth to offer me a kiss that signaled my wait was coming to an end. As she slid her hand along my slacks and over my cock-filled crotch, she punctuated her kisses with a playful "somebody is happy to see me."

I lifted her up as she wrapped her legs around my waist. We kissed with mouths open and tongues swirling. I stepped towards the counter, carrying her against me.

As I scooted her ass up on the counter, she giggled. "Did somebody have a naughty dream this morning?" Her words danced in my ears as the residue of Keri's tits and intern curves still hung in my mind's eye.

I moaned in approval of wifey's initial dirty talk. I pushed the envelop further as I groaned, "Look but don't touch naughty."

As my hands tugged her panties off and slid them down her legs, she leaned back so that her tits pressed firmly against her tee. She looked me straight in the eyes with a naughty, taunting expression and said, "and whose forbidden breasts were you dreaming about?"

Before my mouth formulated an answer, my hands shot up under her tee, both grapping a lustful handful of her breasts. I instantly felt the hardened tip of her nipples that my eyes saw poking against her tee.

Both of us were getting more horny by the second. Inhibitions were lowering. It was easier to be daring and expose the edges of my secret lusts to her. "Keri... our big-titted addition to the staff."

Wifey glared at me with a filthy look and nearly startled me with her naughty reply. "Well I was wrong... thinking it was Karen or Anita." My reaction revealed to her that I was caught off guard. She smiled. "I saw you peaking out the window at them last night."

As she said that, she lifted her arms up over her head, offering me the exit route for her tee. As I lifted it off her body, my mouth instantly dove in and lustily sucked her ripe, large, light, pink nipples as my hands pushed them together into a perfect couplet of delight.

She moaned and teased me further, "Did you want to suck them like this, baby?"

My sloppy, aggressive, slobbery consumption of her more than answered her question.

"Yet, you could only look, not suck."

I moaned in agreement.

She added, "But now, you can look... you can suck... you can HAVE ME."

Once again she had managed to accomplish a difficult task which I seemed to never be able to do. She wiped my mind almost completely free of the residue of Keri's tits, intern curves, and a host of other mental images so that my mind was flooded only with thoughts of her.

I devoured her naked body on the kitchen counter as she sat there with her legs spread wide open and her breasts glistening with the drool of my attention. Before long, my pent-up inventory of cum pulsated through my shaft as she returned to my arms, legs wrapped around my waist, impaled by my fucking cock. Her married body soaked up my attention as her married pussy got soaked by my cum.

Spent and relieved, I lowered her to the floor. I kissed her as I ran my hand between her legs and felt the sticky mixture of her juices and my cum mixed between her thighs. In one final act of sexual energy, she reached down and pulled my hand to her mouth. She slipped my fingers in her mouth, one by one, and sucked each of them. Then, without a moment's hesitation, our mouths connected and shared the flavors of fucking.

It was all good.

As we caught our breath, I watched as she walked up the stairs naked and sexy, heading off to the shower. As I leaned back against the kitchen counter, my slacks puddled on the floor, my lust timer reset. It felt good.