Julie Ch. 11

Driving to work, Julie wondered what it would be like if this was her actual life. If she had a man who could fuck her half the night, drive her out of her mind and leave her incredibly satisfied. If her man was one to whom she wanted to give a blow job in the morning before sending him off to work.

In a couple days Gary would be back and she would be inspired to do little more than give him a polite kiss before leaving. What a contrast between that and this morning! Everything about Greg, his clothes, his body, the way he walked... it all conspired to make him irresistible.

The fact that he was leaving for work from her house was probably no small part of the thrill too. It was a brief chance to compare the fantasy to the reality. And besides, Julie couldn't seem to get enough of him. She loved the way it felt to satisfy him. That he was on his way to work in the morning only made it more erotic and pleasing. What better way for a woman to send a man off, right?

Julie talked Greg into coming back that night. It was against her better judgment, but she cooked dinner for him. It gave the night an awkward start. Greg was not interested in playing house with Julie and he was unable or unwilling to hide it. But after dinner, he ate Julie out and then fucked her on the dining room table and things quickly got back into their normal groove.

He pulled her off the table and pushed her to the floor on her elbows and knees. He got in behind her and resumed fucking her. His big, hard cock was so welcome inside her. Julie came after just a few minutes, writhing and spasming so violently in orgasm that she almost smacked her head on the tile floor.

After her screams subsided, Greg pulled her up onto her knees, spun her around and shoved his cock in her mouth. Moaning and grabbing her breasts in both hands, Julie opened her mouth and took Greg's cock inside. She bobbed eagerly on it, expecting him to cum.

But after a few minutes, he hauled Julie to her feet and guided her into the living room. There, he sat in the recliner... Gary's recliner. His cock stood straight up, beckoning Julie to come and impale herself on it.

She hesitated. This was another line being crossed, albeit an almost insignificant one at this point. Fucking another man in her husband's favorite chair was as bad as fucking him in their bed. In this case it was perhaps worse, since Julie and Gary had never had sex in that chair.

Greg smiled at Julie's hesitation. He must have realized.

"Come on," he said, his tone one that brooked no compromise. He waggled his long shaft at her, making her mouth water. Not sure if she just wanted to go down on Greg again or if she was resisting fucking him in Gary's chair—at least for now—Julie wasn't sure. But instead of climbing atop his towering member, Julie got on her knees between his legs.

Greg seemed content to let her suck him for a while.

"Yeah, come on, cocksucker," he said. "Show me how much you love it. What a slut you are for my cum." His words caused Julie to shudder. The heat and wetness in her pussy multiplying instantly. "Suck my cock while I sit your husband's chair." Julie moaned around his cock, his words driving her as crazy as his nine inch member. She sucked him hard and fast, her saliva dripping down him as she slurped his pole lustily.

A few minutes later, as Julie bobbed enthusiastically on him, he pulled her up.

"Come on. You sucked my cock in his chair. Time to fuck me in it," Greg told her. It was a foregone conclusion that she would, of course. But Greg's words served to heighten the intensity of the moment, a further illustration of how he could effortlessly get her to cross any boundary. There was a time not so long ago when Julie would never have believed herself capable of infidelity. And she certainly could have never envisioned something as brazen as straddling another man in her own house, let alone in Gary's favorite chair.

The way Greg made a point of fucking her there was not just an exercise in control over Julie. It was a way of saying, what kind of slut would do this to her husband? And that's what she was, wasn't she? Whenever Greg was around, Julie was nothing more than a nasty little slut. And it made her so damn hot!

Riding his cock, first facing him, then facing away, Julie had two staggering orgasms. If Greg's hands hadn't grabbed her hips and steadied her, the second one would surely have caused her to topple out of the chair.

From there they went into the bedroom, where Julie climbed onto the bed on her hands and knees. Greg took his familiar place behind her and pounded her to yet another near-consciousness-eclipsing climax. Panting and sweating into her pillow, Julie felt Greg tap her ass and, as if conditioned, she immediately turned around. She wrapped her lips around him and, after swallowing his ample offering, she held his cock in her mouth while she fingered herself to another wrenching orgasm.

They lay in bed afterward in each others' arms in a way that made Julie yearn for it to be real. As she lay in Greg's arms, swirling in the wake of her powerful orgasms, she could think of nothing more perfect. It was cruel to have it, feel it, experience it and still know that it wasn't something of substance. It was a magnificent sand castle that, despite its grandeur, was powerless in the face of the incoming tide.

The next three months were probably the greatest in Julie's life. She was able to see Greg two or three times almost every week. He would bring her to his apartment for a Saturday afternoon. Julie would have him over for a weeknight. Even if it was just a night where Gary was working late, Julie managed to find ways to be with Greg. She even reprised her performance in the parking lot at Cavanaugh's.

Things were going so smoothly, everything working out in her favor. She must have known that it couldn't last. If she did, she didn't admit it to herself. She continued to live her dual life, reaping the benefits of both.

For that period of time, Julie's life was as close to perfect as she could have ever imagined. The fact that she had to live two almost completely separate lives to satisfy all of her needs was immaterial. It was working and that was all that mattered. She had her professional life and loving, stable husband that met her needs for recognition and stability. Then there was Greg.

He could treat her like a complete slut, make her willing to do anything for him in a way she sometimes still had trouble believing was possible. Then, moments after he had made her taste herself on his cock, after he had pumped his cum into her mouth and down her throat, he could show tenderness and affection. Make her feel like they were lovers who should be sipping wine together while cuddling in each others' arms.

It was far different than the tenderness of, say, Gary. Gary was unconditionally affectionate. In Julie's mind, Greg's affection was her reward for having served him, pleased him, satisfied him. It was something she had to earn by being his slut, taking his cock in her mouth and pussy whenever and wherever and however he pleased.

That kind of affection was somehow more meaningful. She thought perhaps it was because the man being affectionate like that could do so without sacrificing his manly, dominant side. He could stroke her cheek, kiss her gently, make her feel loved. But not let her forget that at any moment, he could tell her to get back on her knees.

Over that three months, Julie was surprised at how the intensity of their sex did not diminish. She expected that, as they became more familiar, they would fall into a routine, a rut. The electricity would drain out of their encounters. But that didn't happen. Not by a long shot. There were always more boundaries to cross, more envelopes to push.

One night they had fucked all over Julie's bedroom and then Julie had knelt down to finish him in her mouth. Afterward, Greg pushed her down on the bed, spread her legs and started licking her. Julie, who had already had a few orgasms during his masterful fucking of her, was hardly ready for that oral stimulation.

Then, no sooner did Julie's hips start to writhe under his tongue, than she felt Greg's finger prodding her sphincter. She jumped reflexively, his touch triggering every nerve ending in her lower body. Then his finger penetrated her, was pushing in and out of her ass. Her back arched, shoving her pussy up into Greg's flicking tongue, like she couldn't get him to lick her hard enough.

She came hard, her ass tingling where his finger penetrated her. Whether it was the actual physical sensation or the thought that she was cumming with a man's finger in her ass didn't matter. She clamped her eyes shut so tightly as her climax exploded through her that when she reopened them, she still couldn't see anything for a few seconds. She barely realized that the distant screams she heard were coming from her own mouth.

From that night on, Greg played with her ass fairly regularly. A few times, when she was on her elbows and knees in front of him, he put his cock to her ass and pushed against it. Those occasions caused a strange, clammy thrill in her. Each time, Julie thought for sure that her days of being a woman who had never had anal sex were over. But Greg didn't push hard enough to force his huge cock into her tightest of holes. He teased her; scared her a little too, then slipped his cock into her pussy. But the chill and the thrill lingered as he fucked her.

Greg pushed Julie's limits in other ways too. One night, while fucking her bent over her dining room table, he took her arms and pulled them behind her back. Her tits and face were pressed against the table cloth, sliding back and forth with the powerful rhythm of his thrusts.

The inability to brace herself, the way his hand wrapped around her wrists, restraining her, combined with the familiar deep pounding of his cock was enough to make her cum hard. So hard that she had no awareness or recollection of Greg slipping his belt around her wrists.

When he hauled her up from the table and turned her around, she automatically tried to reach out to maintain her balance, only to find her hands bound behind her. Confused, her head still spinning from the orgasm that was still echoing in her, she tugged again even as Greg pushed her to her knees and put his cock in her face.

Almost delirious from her ecstasy and still not fully comprehending what had happened to her arms, Julie nonetheless opened her mouth reflexively to accept Greg's cock. He took hold of her head and fucked her mouth as she knelt bound before him. She felt the hot splash of his cum on her tongue before her head cleared enough to realize what he had just done to her.

He had tied her up and fucked her mouth... The thought brought a fresh wave of wetness and euphoria to her already quivering body. The term 'bondage' had always been an abstract concept to her. But that was no longer true, was it? Julie now knew what it felt like to attempt to move her arms, only to feel the unrelenting grip of a constraint. She had been tied up as part of sex... Another slutty milestone reached.

Greg was also good at stretching her boundaries slowly, with subtlety at first. The first time he had cum in her face, Julie wasn't sure if she hadn't turned around quickly enough or if he came sooner than he expected. Or if he waited until he was too close for her to possibly turn around in time. When it had happened, Julie truly wasn't sure. All three seemed equally plausible.

But the second time it happened, Julie was less inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. It seemed more intentional. Greg was fucking her doggie style on her bed one night when her husband was out of town. He pushed her down to her elbows as he savagely pounded her. Julie was out of her mind with ecstasy. She had cum once already and was on the brink of another, her body slapping back into Greg's thrusts, trembling with anticipation. She reached her second orgasm, her back arching as she slammed back into Greg as hard as she could. She buried her face in her pillow and used it to absorb the screams of passion that burst out of her.

Even as she was still shaking, impaled on his stiff member, he pumped her several more times, then pulled out and tapped her ass. Julie turned around automatically, conditioned now to receive him in her mouth. But even as she approached him, she saw him swell and saw the white fluid erupt from his cock head. Julie tried to open her mouth, but the sticky strands fell across her cheek, up across her eye and forehead.

Because it hit her eye, she naturally recoiled, so she was unable to close her mouth over Greg's cock and contain the rest of his blast. So the second and third streams fell across her lips, into her open mouth, down her chin and along her neck. Greg was pumping his cock dry as Julie held herself motionless, unsure what to do. When he stopped, she sat back on her heels and wiped the cum from her eye.

When she was able to open her eye again, she looked up at Greg and did her best to act like having him unload in her face was the sexiest thing she could think of. As she had done before, Julie used her finger to push the sticky gobs into her mouth. She gave him a sultry sex-kitten smile and made a show of sucking her finger after using it to wipe his cum down her cheek and into her mouth.

But inside there was conflict. The first time it might have been an accident or poor timing. This time it seemed more like Greg intended to do it. He had been stroking his cock, pumping his load out onto her face in a deliberate fashion.

He had intentionally done something that she should have found degrading, humiliating. Why was she so damn turned on?

Because she was a fucking slut, that's why. It was the only explanation.

Her skin was tingling where his cum had first landed. It felt like a brand. Julie was sure that when she looked in the mirror there would be some sort of visible mark identifying her. Announcing to the world that she had had her face covered with a man's sperm. Proclaiming that she was the kind of slut who would kneel in front of a man and let him debase her face with his seed. And that she liked it, too.

Julie thought of crime shows she had seen where investigators used black lights on crime scenes to illuminate residual sperm. Would such a light shown on her face show the even further incriminating smears? Show how she pushed Greg's cum from where it landed into her mouth? What kind of tramp was she that she would do that? Show him that, not only was she accepting of his treatment, but that she would, ever so humbly, push his cum into her mouth and swallow it?

And she did it while leered down at her, cock still in hand, watching her expectantly. There was a smugness to his expression. Had he doubted for an instant that Julie would wear his sperm with a smile? That she would wipe it onto her tongue?

Two weeks later, Gary was out of town and Greg spent the night at Julie's house. In the morning, he did what had become the latest wrinkle in their routine. After they were both dressed for work, Greg led her to the bedroom in front of the full length mirror hanging on Julie's closet. After some impassioned kissing and intense groping of each others' bodies, Julie slid to her knees.

It was difficult to remember why she had ever resisted the first time when Greg told her to keep her work clothes on. Now it was part of what made it hot for Julie. She was dresses in the clothes that she would be wearing all day around her colleagues. And how many of them would ever guess that just before she walked out the door, she had sucked a nine inch cock dry? Wearing these very clothes? The idea that she could be such a slut and that no one would ever suspect was part of what made her pussy tingle as she opened her mouth to Greg's straining erection.

She glanced up and saw that Greg was watching in the mirror, enrapt by the way his cock disappeared into her mouth over and over. Julie cast an eye to the mirror herself, her belly tingling as she saw her own mouth around Greg's cock. The way his girth stretched her lips was insanely arousing. Her pussy throbbed and moistened as she watched herself slide along Greg's length.

It usually took a good ten to fifteen minutes to get Greg off in the morning, especially if they had had sex more than once the night before, which was pretty typical for them. But Julie was in no real hurry. She enjoyed every sensation, every nuance. And she knew when he finally came, she would be disappointed that it was over.

Nevertheless, when she felt him getting close, heard the familiar changes in his moans and breathing, Julie picked up her pace. Her jaw was usually starting to ache a little at this point, although that was less true these days than when she first started seeing him regularly.

That was when something different happened. Greg's hand came down to the base of his cock, pushing Julie's hand out of the way. She let her hand slip to his thigh and kept up her efforts without interruption. Then she felt his body spasm and buck in orgasm, but, strangely enough, the stream of cum she expected to feel on her tongue never came.

The next surprise was Greg's other hand pushing at her forehead, pushing her off of his cock. She opened her eyes, looking up in bewilderment. Greg was looking down at her with a strange intensity. His right hand was wrapped in a tourniquet-like grip around the base of his member, apparently holding back his load when he came.

She stared, mouth still open, at his cock. The head was purple and the shaft was turning red as his fist cut off the flow of blood along with the discharge of sperm.

"Close your mouth," Greg breathed. At first, Julie just stared. She was totally disoriented, had no idea what was happening or why. The light dawned a split second later: he was going to release his grip and unloose the flood from his cock... and he wanted her mouth closed when he did. So he could cum on her face. Even as she realized, she didn't react, so caught off guard was she.

"Close your fuckin' mouth!"

Her mouth snapped shut automatically and an instant later, Greg's eruption flew out of his cock and across her face. It was a big blast, covering her nose, one of her eyelids, her cheek, lips. She felt a wisp fall along her cheek and ear as she heard the slapping of Greg's hand against his abdomen. He pumped every last drop out onto her.

Then she felt his cock head pushing at her lips. She opened and accepted him and sucked him steadily for a few moments longer, receiving a small residual taste of him. As he withdrew, Julie turned to see herself in the mirror.

The first two times that she had worn Greg's ejaculate, she had only felt it on her face. Now she was seeing it. Thick blobs of the milky white fluid were all over her. It was almost disturbing, seeing herself like that. Did anything else say sleazy slut as eloquently? Especially when Julie acknowledged the surge of wetness she felt as she looked at her cum covered face?

A facial, that's what they called it, Julie thought. Greg had given her a cum facial.

Her eyes wandered from the trail Greg had left across her to the clothes she was wearing, her make up, her hair. In about a half hour she was going to walk into work dressed in these clothes. She would have to fix her hair and make up, of course, but this was essentially the person she would be when she reached her desk this morning. And she was kneeling on the floor with a load of cum across her face. How many of the people in her office would suspect—or even believe, for that matter—that this was how her day had begun?

It was strange, trying to reconcile these two images. The woman who was in control, responsible and respected in her job. And the woman who was wearing the very same clothes with a spent cock hanging in front of her?