The Exception

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A married couple finds pleasure in another's arms.
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My husband came home from the party late and stinking of gin, but still very proper in his manners. He brought with him a tall woman whom he introduced as Delilah. She had fashionably long blonde hair, too heavy makeup and a blue sequined dress, split up to the thigh, that presented her silicone bosom to the world. She simpered and smiled when Howard introduced her, saying how she gave truly excellent blow jobs. "At least that's what Leroy tells me, and he says that Anne finds her marvelous as well. A tongue like an angel."

It was not what I wanted to hear at this hour. The children were in bed already, but Fiona had waited up an hour past her bedtime hoping to see her father, and I was upset with him for disappointing her. I am not good at concealing my temper - one of the reasons I avoid parties like the plague - but I was as civil as I thought the situation deserved.

"Well, isn't that nice for them. How do you do, Delilah? I'd offer you a drink, but I see you have both already had an evening's full share. Shall I call a taxi to send her home?"

Howard said at once, "No, no, Lucy, what are you saying? Darling, please, calm down. Delilah can come in for a bit, she's just got here. Show some hospitality."

"I thought I was. She has no business being here, and you have no business bringing her."

He put his hands on my shoulders to calm me.

"Oh come now, Lucy. She's a friend. She's a very kind friend and I think that you'll like her if you give her a chance. She's very charming, aren't you Delilah?"

"I try my best," she said in a sultry voice.

I shook my head. "Are you crazy? Not like this, not unannounced. The children are here!"

He scoffed lightly. "They're sound asleep and they'll sleep for hours more. They'd sleep through a goddamn avalanche. You've got nothing to worry about."

We have an arrangement. Sometimes we have visitors to our house, and sometimes they are invited to share our bed. This is something we both enjoy, but there are rules to how it works. I insist on them. First, I always meet these visitors and know them for at least a week in advance. Second, the children never meet them; they stay at a friend's house or with a relative while we have our dalliances He broke both our rules in one swoop with this woman and I was upset.

My face must have told him, that and the clenching of my fist. He took a step away.

"Oh, calm yourself, Lucy. You're not going to hit anyone. Fine, we don't have to do anything at all tonight except talk. You can do that much, at least."

I tried to relax, but I was really angry. "No, I don't think I can. I don't have any words right now that are suitable for company."

"Well, fine then, you don't have to talk. Just let her come in for a few minutes to have a drink. Let her have a rest for a while, we've been on our feet all damn night."

I didn't agree but I stopped resisting and let him bring her inside to the parlor. After a moment I followed them in and I let my husband fix me a drink.

Delilah lounged on the couch. She did not seem at all put out by my temper - if anything, she may've been turned on by it - and she smiled warmly while Howard clinked away at the glasses.

I sat at the other end of the couch and fidgeted. I was trying to hold on to my anger, but it was late; I didn't have much energy for it. It was enough just to be annoyed. Besides, she was a pretty thing. Not her face exactly, which had some odd proportions, but the overall package was undeniably stimulating, even through my displeasure. It was a shame about her breasts, though: I understand wanting a handful, but have never cared for implants. I am fortunately blessed in that department.

She caught me inspecting her and her smile deepened. She adjusted her position so I could follow the curve of her stockinged thigh up to the slit in her dress. I blushed, ashamed at having been so easily found out.

I cleared my throat. Just sitting in silence would not do, after all.

"Are you a prostitute, Delilah?" I asked, a shockingly rude question - my unruly mouth was another reason Howard often preferred to leave me at home when he went out. Howard froze and dropped an ice cube on the tray.

"Dear, whatever are you saying?"

"I have a right to know who I am being asked to sleep with, I think. You haven't given me the chance to get to know her otherwise, so I may as well ask. So, are you?"

Delilah was again not at all offended. "An understandable question, Lucy. May I call you Lucy? It's unfair of me, but Howard has told me so much about you that I feel a little forward." I indicated that I did not care what she called me as long as she answered my questions. "I have been a prostitute before," she said, "for several years when I was a student, to pay my way. But now I am not. I work as an accountant at a company in town. However I do sometimes enjoy attending at parties, as a part of the entertainment, so to speak. As a sort of a hobby. I do get compensated for it, but the money isn't the issue. I am here because I enjoy it."

"I see," I said. She was much more straightforward, and well-spoken, than I had anticipated. "And what is it, exactly, that you enjoy?"

She took the drink Howard offered her and sipped at it. "I enjoy meeting new people, people like yourself, Lucy."

I maintained my cold expression, but her voice, deep, smooth and confident, and her unapologetic honesty, had warmed me up inside. My first impression was of a simple slut, but there was certainly more to her than that; I could see now why Howard had brought her. It was just a shame that he had broken our rules so. I might have otherwise enjoyed this woman a great deal.

Still I wanted to be a little cruel to them. "So are we expected to pay for your presence tonight, for the honor of meeting you?"

She waved the thought away. "Your friends, the Humbolts, wanted me for their party."

"Please, they're Howard's friends, not mine."

"And their party is over. I came here because Howard invited me very nicely." Howard sat in the armchair near Delilah and smiled once, like a puppy recognizing its name.

I examined her face for any deeper meanings. She had a long jaw that curved up to a delicate ear nestled among her blonde locks. Her lips were thick, painted red, and ever so slightly smudged: against a glass or perhaps something else. I imagined those lips curled around Howard's cock, her mascara-laden eyes softly closed, down-turned with tears pooling at the corners. With her tongue wetly cradling his member, Howard would hunch and gasp, and she would turn her head back slightly to open her throat to take him deeper, until his balls hung against her chin and his hair tickled her nose. I could just see him trying to decide if he should just let go and spend right away or else try to hold on to draw out the pleasure even longer. I decided he was impatient and watched him spend down her throat.

I swallowed and took a sip of scotch and ginger ale, my favorite drink. "Did you fuck my husband yet? Or give him one of your truly excellent blow jobs?"

Howard rolled his eyes. "Oh, dearest, you really like getting ahead of yourself. You know I wouldn't do anything without your say so."

"Like with Valerie," I said. The memory still stung, no matter how much I said I'd forgiven him.

"Ages ago, and quite the misunderstanding." To Delilah he explained, "It's basically all right if she okays it first, and in that case I thought she had. Obviously we got things mixed up."

Delilah was sympathetic to us both. "Well, these are delicate issues. I know it as well as anyone. I've had my heart broken more than once. Don't worry yourself, Lucy. Howard's been a perfect gentleman. He did show me his cock when he pissed in the garden, but I don't think it was a come-on."

Howard gulped his drink down and stood up. "Speaking of which, I've got to go again right now. Please be civil, darling, until I get back." We both watched him leave the room. Then we turned back to each other.

"You wear too much make-up," I opined. "It would be more flattering if you toned it down a bit, I think."

She shrugged. "And you wear none at all," she said. "You might look better with some."

"I wasn't expecting visitors. Really, I wish he'd called first."

"What would you have said if he had told you I was coming?"

This time I shrugged. "I'd have told him to go stuff himself."

"You are very beautiful."

"And I don't even have my make-up on," I said with a sip of my drink.

"Your body is very attractive." I rolled my eyes. "You have two children, yes? You don't look it. You must take very good care of yourself."

Whatever the situation, it wasn't good to brag, so I said, "Not particularly."

It amused her. She bit back a laugh, but then grew serious. "Are you really angry I'm here? I can go if you are. It'd be a shame, but I hate to upset a person in their own house."

"Yes, I'm upset. Howard is a right bastard bringing you here. It's nothing against you, you know. If he had followed the rules, I'd be happy to have you, well, you know, to bed."

"You would?"

"I'd love it. You're quite the most interesting person we've had for one of these dalliances in years."

"You have no idea how interesting I am," she said and slid closer to me on the couch.

"And Howard is such a bore sometimes. Frankly, that's why I don't mind it when he screws around with other women, as long as I know who it is. It's much better when we have someone else around." In truth, I was getting tipsy and saying too much. I had had a drink of my own just before they'd arrived, and I am not a strong drinker.

She touched my shoulder with one hand, tentatively, then stroked along the outside of my arm. I looked down at her hand, then at her lips again. It had been a while since we had a play partner. Almost half a year, in fact. I imagined tasting those lips and wet wriggly tongue. There would be the smell of alcohol on her breath, the feel of her teeth as I pushed inside her, the gentle moan that would begin in her throat and finish in mine as our breasts crushed together through our clothes. I would hold her and take her head in my hands, as if to force her mouth open to let my tongue in her deeper. She would submit to my kiss, let me all but fuck her mouth with my tongue, then catch me with her lips and turn a gentle suck into a fierce one, so that my tongue would ache with the suction. Deep in my lap, my heat grew stronger. I could feel the swelling of my vulva.

I took a deep breath. Damn him, I thought. He just had to break the rules with this one.

Looking down, I noticed her left hand resting on my thigh as her right slowly stroked my auburn hair. Warm and gently placed, the hand suggested many possibilities.

I brushed her away. "No," I said, frustrated. "No, none of that now."

"Why not?" she purred. "You said you want it. I can feel you getting ready. I can all but smell it. So if you want to so much, why not do it?"

"There are rules to how this works," I said and sat up on the edge of the couch, hoping to regain some control of the situation. "I have to know them for at least a week, and the children can't be anywhere around. I have to know you first or it just doesn't work." Changing positions didn't go as I'd hoped because she came in close, half behind me, one hand at my elbow, the other around by my hip. Her breast brushed against my back and her breath tickled on my neck. It was all gentle enough that she didn't cling or prod, which would have irritated me; instead her touch tempted me to lean back into her embrace, invited me to surrender.

"What's so special about knowing me for a week?" Delilah asked. "How does that change anything?"

"It means I can see them in different circumstances and get an idea of their character. And it drives Howard crazy, the waiting. He is ever so attentive during a courtship; he goes out of his way to please me, to make me want it."

"That's understandable. I can see why you'd like that. It's a good rule. But doesn't it ever drive you crazy, too? Aren't there times when you just drip with desire for someone? Like me? Because you can have me."

"Damn it, I know! But that's not it; the children are upstairs and I won't risk disturbing them. I can just imagine them walking in in the middle of something. It's too much to worry about." I started getting worked up again. How could Howard have done this to me?

Delilah breathed slowly and rubbed my back, soothing me. Her hands were wide and strong, her manicured nails short and painted red. "Well, there is the risk," she conceded. "But don't you and Howard do it while they're here?"

"That's one thing," I said, finishing my drink and putting the glass on the side table, "but having you here is another. They've walked in on us before. How embarrassing that was. But we had a good laugh about it."

"So you don't think you could laugh about it if I was here?"

"I couldn't show them my face again."

She ran both hands down my back, scratching lightly across my blouse. Her persistent touch never let the heat run out of me. One hand followed the arc of my ribs, coming up just under my breast, almost cupping it before easing back along my hips.

"You probably could, you know. I find women like you amazing. So much depends on you, so many big and little things. I won't tell you not to worry, but this is just a few hours. They might hear us and wonder, but the truth won't break them. And you must agree that they probably won't. This is a big house." It was a big house; if Fiona or Henry woke up, they'd probably just go to the bathroom and go right back to bed, unless one of us was actually screaming. I wanted to believe it.

Her hands were driving me crazy. I wanted to feel them on my breasts, in my mouth, on my thighs, my pussy. I could just imagine her digits dancing over my labia, spreading them and teasing away at my clit. Her warm breath and tongue would glide up though my slit like a wave ebbing and flowing, bathing me with her juices. Measured, playful and strong, she would tease my ass and wriggle a long finger in while sucking on me; I might come just from that. I hadn't been this excited since I was newly married.

Delilah whispered in my ear. "I'm here now, and I won't hurt you, or your children, and I won't take your husband away. We're safe. I am just here for tonight. We can just share pleasure with each other. You can have everything you want, and I'll take all you can give."

"Rules," I said, desperately. "They are important. Rules are rules."

"Yes," she agreed, and she was touching me and I was loving it. Delilah kneaded my breast gently into my heart and stroked from my thighs up to my stomach, pulling me into her. She kissed my neck, the root of my jaw and my ear. Her breath made me gasp, and I struggled between two conflicting desires, to hold her in return and to pull away.

"Those rules have saved my marriage, my family," I said, my last defense.

"They have," she agreed, "but every rule needs an exception."

No shit, I thought. The dam broke.

"You are exceptional!" I said, and turned and kissed her full on the mouth.

She sucked my breath away hungrily, her tongue roving between our lips. I clutched her to me, gasping, kissing and holding her. Delilah fondled me through my clothes, undoing a button here and there as she went until almost with a flick of her wrist it seemed my blouse was off and my bra was open.

"Just beautiful," she said, pausing to admire her handiwork. Taking a breast in each hand, she leaned close and began to kiss them. Her tongue sent electric shivers from my nipples down to my clit; I've always been quite sensitive there. She suckled at a gentle pace, switching from one to the other periodically while she undid my slacks and worked them down to my knees.

"Wait," I said, kicking them off. "I want to touch you, too."

"I was waiting for that. I have some surprises for you."

Kneeling on the couch, kissing her, I unzipped her dress and slid it carefully down to reveal her breasts. They were the silicone shaped spheres that I normally disapproved of, but now I didn't let myself object to them. Even if they weren't that great to fondle, I wanted to lay some claim to her body before we got down to still more intimate activities. I gave each nipple a firm suck until they stood erect. My fingers roamed across the breadth of her back, down over her narrow hips to caress her ass through her silky black underwear. I noted with approval that she wore her panties over her garters.

Moving my kisses lower, I looked up at her mischievously. Her chest rose and fell with anticipation. I could picture her expression changing when I eventually found her clit with my tongue. I cherished that moment with all of my lovers. What sort of moan would she give me, I wondered. I knew the sounds I would give her when it was my turn.

I let my hands slink around and tease the air around her crotch. She unconsciously swayed her hips, trying to make me touch her, but I stayed just out of the way, letting her long for it until one finger brushed the lower edge of her mons. It was stiffer than I expected. My whole hand rubbed over her, but instead of meeting the damp heat of an eager cunt, I found a long, engorged shaft straining against the tight fabric of her panties.

My breath caught as I peeled them away and found her erect cock and a loose ball sack decorated with thin tufts of dark blonde hair. I just stared at it with nothing to say. I looked up at Delilah and she smiled at me.

"Surprise," she said, and touched my face. "Open your mouth." I did, and she lifted her cock and put the tip of it against my lips. It was of average size and girth, a good mouthful. I tested the glans with an experimental lick. It was real: a live cock, no dildo. "Suck me," she said. "Let me feel you inside." So I took her member in my fingers and closed my lips over it and began to work it. It took me a minute to warm up, but when I slid the skin across the shaft with both hands while sucking it fully into my mouth until it reached the top of my throat, she gave a soft little groan, the kind I find so adorable.

Suddenly I couldn't wait to make her come. Whatever twist of things had brought this strange she-male into my house, I wasn't going to ruin things by worrying about it now. With copious spit to lube my lips and hands, I loved that shaft up and down, making her gasp and move her hips. Cupping her balls, I gently sucked them into my mouth and then let them pop out again and again. I licked up along the underside of the cock, and then down the top to work my way around again. I took her deep in my mouth as far as I could, bobbing up and down in short strokes. She hummed and sighed, her breath getting shorter as I built the pleasure up inside her.

Footsteps came from behind me. I had all but forgotten about him, but Howard was there - he had been watching for some time - and his tumescent cock hung out of his fly. I looked around, but he was intent on Delilah and waved me back to my business.

"I was hoping you could help me with this," he said, "it's been giving me the worst trouble."

"I wondered when you'd be back," she said over a hiss of pleasure as I twined my hands around her shaft. "Take off you pants." He complied. Delilah rubbed at his cock, turning it over, noting its fat head and bulging veins. I could feel her attention shift away from my actions as she lay back onto the couch and pulled him over her. At the same time she pulled me along with her legs and let me know she appreciated my efforts. She took Howard's cock with her lips giving it soft kisses and gradually engulfed it. He let out a long stiff exhale. I, of course, could not see everything she did, but I could hear the slurping and the slushing of it over Howard's enthusiastic commentary.

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