A Cuckquean Wife, A Teen Girlfriend Ch. 02

The day after my first date with Cassie, I head downtown to bring Beth her lunch again-- working remotely certainly has its perks-- and am immediately gratified by the scene in the lobby. Cassie's impeccably dressed in a black wool miniskirt and a tight white sweater, the outfit finished by thigh-high white stockings topped with black silk bows and shiny, heeled Mary Janes. The three inches of smooth, tan skin between her stockings and her hemline make my mouth water. And the vulgar hickey I gave her yesterday is clearly visible on her pretty neck, without a brush of makeup to conceal it. My blood heats. The little tease is flaunting it.

She's also bent over the counter next to one of the dentists, their heads bent together as they chat. Two men, seated in the waiting area, aren't even bothering to pretend they're not staring at her. I wonder if they can see her panties from their vantage. If she's wearing any. I consider how jealous they'd be if they knew she'd had her glossy lips wrapped around my cock twelve hours ago. If they knew I'd filled that painfully desirably little pussy while she moaned 'daddy' in my ear. With my wife listening in the next room, getting wet to the sounds we'd made. I've said it before. I'm a lucky guy.

Cassie sees me and squeals, tearing away from the reception desk. She throws her arms around me, the clean, fruity scent of her hair making my head spin. "I'm so happy to see you!"

The dentist looks distinctly displeased to have lost his conversational companion, and I want to laugh, knowing how badly all these men want to fuck her. I consider briefly if any of them have. I catch a flash of navy and beige in the far hallway. Also looking displeased, her flabby arms crossed jealously over her chest, is Beth. Her blatant attitude irks me. And so, though I know I shouldn't, I make her wait.

"I like your outfit," I tell Cassie, careful to keep my voice neutral.

She dimples sweetly, brushing her sweater down over the jiggling globes of her breasts. It's all I can do not to dig my hands into those supple balloons of flesh right there. "Thanks, Mr. Ellis," she giggles innocently. Her sky-blue eyes dart to where Beth is slouching against the wall and her pink lips curve up in an arrogant, feline smile as she looks back to me. "Did you have a good night last night?"

"Oh, I did," I chuckle.

"What did you do?" Cassie's pushing it, but her expression is so cute, so naive, that no one around us even blinks.

"Last night was date night," I tell her. "I went out to dinner, and then dancing,... and then home."

Beth's head is cocked toward us, making sure she hears every word.

Cassie is practically glowing. "That sounds really fun." She skips across the room and squeezes Beth's doughy forearm as she passes her, gazing prettily up at my wife. "I hope you guys had a really fun night." And then she's gone, bouncing gracefully down the hall.

I sit with Beth in the break room and we eat together. "Do you always talk with Cassie?" She rolls her eyes. "You know that's the receptionist I'm always telling you about."

"I figured playing nice might make it easier on you here," I reply swiftly. "Looks like it worked, too. She was just sweet to you."

Beth laughs bitterly, half-chewed lettuce falling from her mouth to the table. "She isn't sweet, Nick."

I shrug. "Makes no difference to me." As we sit, I worry that Cassie's ruining me. I can't even look at Beth now, not really, not without comparing her with my little golden treat from last night. My phone pings. Men's Bathroom. Come Now.

"Excuse me," I tell Beth, patting her head as I push in my chair and leave my barely-touched meal behind me. I open the bathroom door to find Cassie sitting on the counter, swinging her sexy legs.

"Come here," she purrs, stretching her arms out to me. I know it's stupid, but hell-- I'd crawl over a mile of broken glass to get one kiss from the girl. She wraps herself around me, her skirt falling back to show off the panties she's wearing: raspberry-pink satin, with a little rhinestone heart across the front. Our tongues tangle and dance together and I can't help it: I reach down and rub Cassie's pussy through the silk of her undies, her arousal immediately darkening the delicate cloth. I groan. She tastes like cherry Pop Rocks. I can smell the creamy, sweet scent of her wetness.

I kneel down and pull her by her thighs across the counter, making her shriek a half-stifled giggle. I shove the crotch of her panties out of the way and bury my nose in her delicious cunt, French kissing the beautiful, silky folds of her divine sex. I nibble the softness of her outer lips and draw swirls over her swelling clit, sucking on it like she's a strawberry ice cream cone, like she's the best thing I've ever tasted... which she is. As she starts to shudder, I slide a finger the heated slickness of her tight opening, and she bucks against my hand as she dissolves in climax in front of me. I've never seen anything so beautiful. I know I should end it there. I can't end it there.

Cassie pulls her fitted sweater up over her tits and jerks her bra-- twin to those slick, rosy panties-- down so that her tits are propped up by it, explicitly on display, begging to be pinched and slapped and sucked. I can't let the perfection of that vision go. I pull out my phone and snap a photo of her, her stockinged legs spread, her panties pushed aside, her eyes warm and lusty beneath her impossibly long, dusky lashes. She smiles up at me, posing.

"Spread yourself for me, princess." I watch in full rapture as Cassie tugs her underwear still farther out of the way and strokes her pink-nailed fingertips through her wetness for me, showing off the dripping, petal-pinkness of her inner sex. I take another picture. And then I toss my phone down, seeing in an uncaring haze that my wife is trying to call me, and I cup Cassie's radiant, ethereal face tenderly. I kiss her lips softly as I unbutton my pants and free my cock, nudging the throbbing head against her saturated slit. She wiggles her ass against the counter, moving to meet my thrusts. I stroke my fingers through her soft blonde hair as I sink into her, savoring the silken gloss of its strands, and she locks hers in mine, pulling me close. We make love like we've done it a thousand times, our bodies in perfect rhythm. I tug her nipples and squeeze her heavenly breasts. She reaches a hand down to slide gently under my balls, her pressure light and sensual and perfect. I groan.

There's a knock at the door. "Nick? Are you in there?" It's Beth.

I cover Cassie's mouth with my hand, but I don't stop stroking her perfect cunt with my cock. "I'll be right out," I call back.

"Are you okay?"

Cassie's eyes are filled with bratty joy above my hand. Her pouty lips are trembling with her naughty giggles. Her juices shine on the swollen inches of my rod that plunge in and out of her stretching velvet entrance.

"I'm okay," I shout to my wife, as I bend to take Cassie's left breast in my mouth, tightening my grip over his lips as she whines in soft pleasure. I suckle at her perfect, engorged nipple as Beth's steps fade down the hallway, then move to tug the peak of her right breast between my teeth. I bite down, just a little, just enough to hurt, and a gush of sweet, girly cum waterfalls down Cassie's bare thighs, the most violent orgasm, the wildest squirt I've ever seen. It pushes me over the edge and I push Cassie back against the wall, hard, as I press my weight against her and empty my heavy balls into her begging, twitching snatch.

We're both gasping. Cassie blinks those June-blue eyes at me. "I've never done that before," she whispers in tremulous awe. My cum is pooling out of her. Making a mess of the counter. The floor is wet. I run my thumb over her puffy bottom lip and softly, slowly move to kiss her. She sighs into my mouth, nearly collapsing in my arms. "We're going to teach you to do lots of things you've never done before," I promise. She shudders in anticipation, her cheek pressed against my chest.

We reek of sex. Cassie's hair is a mess, mine not much better. I straighten my shirt and button my pants as Cassie steps out of her sodden panties, tucking the sopping wad into my pocket with a wicked grin. I kiss her once more on the forehead before heading back to the break room, where Beth is waiting.

"Where have you been?" my wife scolds. "You were gone for twenty minutes!"

I shrug, unapologetic. "I'm not feeling well. I should head home, actually."

"Oh... okay." Beth sighs.

"I'll see you tonight." Beth leans up to kiss me, and pauses at the unfamiliar taste: the floral, lush taste of Cassie's young pussy. She blinks, confused, but doesn't say anything. And then I'm on my way out the door, my fingers still tangled in Cassie's creamy panties, as they had been the whole time I'd said my goodbye to Beth.

I bury my nose in those panties as I drive home, my cock already straining in my pants again. What was this girl doing to me? I couldn't get enough of her.

I jump into the shower to freshen up and realize, as I'm washing my hair under the cool spill of the water, that tonight is Beth's weekly Bridge Night. I pop out of the tiled expanse, getting water everywhere, so I can text Cassie. Are you free tonight?

I know it's too soon, that I should play it cool, but I can't make myself care. I text her again without waiting for her response. Come to my place at 8.

My phone pings. It's a video of Cassie's beautiful lips, spitting an impressive mouthful of white froth into a mug with cartoon cats on it that I immediately recognize as my wife's. My cock jerks. Who was this girl? My phone pings again. I'll see you at 8. :)

Beth leaves the house at 7:58, and an Uber drops Cassie off in front of it exactly two minutes later. She's wearing her powder-blue and white cheer uniform, her butter-blonde hair pulled up into a high, bouncy ponytail held with a white silk ribbon. She's carrying a bottle of champagne. Her eyes light up when she sees me on the porch, and she runs and jumps into my arms, dropping the contents of her arms-- which, thankfully, don't break-- onto the lawn as she does so. Her lustrous thighs squeeze my waist as she kisses me with an eager, open mouth. I wonder if any of my neighbors are watching. If I hope they are.

I find myself laughing deeply at Cassie's exuberance, her youthful adoration. I realize I can't remember the last time I laughed like that, the last time I felt so... light. So free. Cassie licks my face like a puppy, grinding her groin against my middle. She's so unashamed in her sexuality, her expression... I love that, too. I carry her into the house, supporting her slight weight effortlessly with one arm. She's so tiny.

"Wait!" she shrieks, giggling. "The champagne!" I carry her down the steps and bend to let her stretch to grab it, still held against my hip. Her every movement is so fluid, so pretty. I could have watched her all night.

Inside, I open the champagne for my little date and pour it into the crystal glasses Beth's parents gave us for our ten year anniversary. Cassie climbs up into my lap to drink it, straddling me, asking me questions about my work, my friends, my life, telling me in return about hers. She's a good storyteller and a fantastic audience, gasping and twirling her hair and exploding into fits of tinkling laughter. She's fun. She's so fun.

During our third glass of champagne, Cassie starts to gently stroke my cock. After we've finished the bottle, she climbs down off my lap, walking around the living room and surveying the set up.

"What are you doing?" I ask, watching her.

She dimples, her perfect cheeks blushing. "Why don't you come sit... here." She selects for me the small, armless wooden chair that sits by the fireplace. Reading the question in my face, she flicks her skirt at me. "Don't worry! Just come and see!" She's slurring her words just a little. It's cute. I bound down the stairs and sit in the chair she's selected for me. She unwinds the ribbon from her hair slowly, shaking her golden curls free. The glint in her eyes is positively wicked. She fiddles with the stereo, gifting me the perfect picture of her sleek white panties stretched over her perky ass.

I don't know the song that comes on, something smooth and dark. Sexy. She tugs my arms behind my back and knees to loop her hair ribbon over my wrists, again and again, until she ties a string of tidy knots. I'm impressed. I'm aroused. I'm dumbfounded. She's smirking like the daintiest little devil to ever grace this goddamned earth.

"I thought you'd like to see me dance," Cassie breezes easily. "I've got to practice, you know."

I settle myself more comfortably against the stiff back of the chair. "Princess," I tell her truthfully, "I would love to see you dance." She's still wearing her stockings from earlier, darling above her marshmallow-white sneakers. She smiles at me as she rolls her hips in slow, delicious circles, stretching her body sinuously. In the middle of my fucking living room.

She turns her back to me and bends over, her skirt flipping up to reveal the perfect heart of her ass. She rakes her fingernails up the inner slope of her left leg as she straightens back up, repeats the move on the other side. The stretchy satin of her cheer panties moves over her muscles like a second skin.

She stalks forward on her sure tiptoes and traces a dangerous fingertip over the line of my shoulders as she circles me with slow, deliberate steps. When she's fully behind me, she bends down and breathes a cool exhale over my neck. My skin goosebumps. My cock aches and stiffens. Her tongue traces a graceful arabesque, mimics cursive writing. Her pretty hand fists in my hair, jerks my head back. She kisses the hollow beneath my ear, nips sharply at the lobe. I groan. She hisses. Her hands run over my shoulders, down the hard lines of my chest, draping her body over me like a scarf.

And then, suddenly, she's in front of me, tugging the front of her uniform up to reveal her tanned abs, pulling her skirt low over her sexy hips. I'm drunk on her scent, on that single expanse of her seemingly airbrushed skin. She swings a delicate thigh over mine, lets her fingertips trace my inseam. She throws her second leg over my other thigh, hooking her feet around the lower bars of the chair. Her swollen breasts press against my sternum as her nails tickle the nape of my neck. She tugs my mouth open by pressing the pad of her thumb against the line of my bottom teeth, leans forward to flick her soft tongue against my upper teeth.

My next groan is a desperate rumble deep in my chest. She stays on my lap, leaning back to pull her top up over her head. She's wearing a different bra than earlier, white silk and plunging. I could get lost in her endless cleavage. It made no sense, a girl so tiny having those massive, pornstar tits. A third of her weight had to be in those breasts, in the vibrant arcs of her ass.

Cassie grinds fluidly against me, the heat of her core emanating even through the stiff cloth of my trousers. She reaches graceful fingers behind herself to unhook that pretty bra, her cleavage spilling out sexily as she bares herself for me, her nipples pointing up so perfectly. She kneels on the chair, straddling me, and brushes her peaked breasts over my lips, pulling away before I can capture them. It's torturous. It's believably hot.

Gracefully, my little cheerleader swivels around, the sweet peach of her ass grinding over my cock. She balances neatly on the balls of her feet and bends down until one hand touches the floor. That view of her ass.... I can hardly stand it. I want to sink my teeth into that sumptuous flesh, want to spank her and watch those delightful muscles ripple. I wonder if anyone has every fucked that perfect ass-- they had to have, right? Who wouldn't try?

Cassie sinks to the floor and crawls away from me slowly, her thighs sleek and tan and golden. She spreads those thighs as she rises, goddess-like, to her feet, her fingers pressing beautiful indents into those buttery curves I wanted so badly to squeeze. She drops back down and slinks toward me again, graceful as a lioness, her every move dancerly, intentional, and seductive. She slides her hands up my knees and lets her nose glide from my inner thigh to my groin, where she nuzzles the noticeable bulge of my package, dropping kisses over the hard ridge of my zipper. Then she looks up at me and smiles, her thumb skating exactly over the tip of my imprisoned dick. Holy, sapphire heavens. "Hi, daddy," she whispers throatily. I could explode then and there.

Cassie drapes herself over my lap next, collapsing like a Victorian heroine, her arms behind our heads, her palms skimming through my hair. I've got a perfect view of her luxurious tits, her tight stomach, her suntanned legs. She turns her face to kiss my cheek. "I want you to fuck me on the kitchen table," she whispers. I'd fuck her on the steps of the town tall. Hell. I'd fuck her in the middle of Times Square. "Is that right?" I tease, stealing a kiss.

She inhales deeply, grinding over my lap. Her hands are tight on my tensed thighs. "Yes," she sighs, her breathing shortened. Tight. "I want you to eat my pussy right where your wife eats her dinner."

My arousal hits a new high, slamming through a roof I hadn't known existed. "Untie me, and let's go."

She sucks her bottom lip, rolling her body across my front. "Not yet...," she taunts sweetly. I spend the next fifteen minutes tied to the chair while Cassie delights in tormenting me. She glides her puffed nipples over my lips. "Suck." She's drunk on her power and it's unimaginably cute. I play her game happily, sucking her sweet skin enthusiastically, coaxing those pale pink nubs into aching peaks. She climbs off of me to slide her panties down her legs. She looks like a slutty Barbie doll. I'm desperate for a glimpse of her pussy. She brings her panties to her face, inhales her own bouquet. "Do you like how I smell, Mr. Ellis? Do you like how I taste?"

"I love your smell. I worship your taste." She flits her panties across my face and I breathe them in deeply. "Suck," she begs again. My mouth waters as I bite down on that sex-soaked bit of silk and drink up every drop of her. Needless to say... It's a good night.

Finally, finally, Cassie decides I've had enough. She unties me at last, clad only in the fluffy inches of her cheerleading skirt. I don't hesitate. I scoop her up and carry her to the oak table I've shared with my wife for half a decade. I position her directly in front of Beth's seat. She pulls her knees up, spreading herself for me. Her smile is so naughty. "This is where your wife sits?" Her fingers play over her glossy clit.

"Yes," I tell her. She smiles as I move to grip her ankles.

She holds out a manicured little hand. "Not yet. I'm the boss tonight."

I hold up my hands at her command. "What is it you'd like?"

"Does your wife have a vibrator?" At my nod, her grin deepens. "Will you fetch it for me? I want to use it." I get Beth's wand from the bedside table in the guest room, and bring it back to Cassie, who's spread like dinner over the table.

"Turn it on for me?" she requests. I do, adjusting it to a setting I think she'll like. She shivers as the vibration strokes along her thigh, making its way to her cunt. I watch her wetness spread over it. "I want Beth to smell me on it," Cassie giggles villainously. "I want that bitch to see me and taste me and smell me on everything she touches." I know I should stop her, should draw a boundary, but as I watch her sexy back arc off the table, I can't make myself care.

And then the creaking groan of the garage door sounds. A car door slams. Beth's home. It seems early. It must be early. And yet.

Cassie jumps off the table, the vibrator still in her hand. There's not a trace of fear on her face. Instead, she looks delightfully pleased, arrogant, conquering. And as my wife opens the door, that little slut ducks down and crawls under the long, draping cloth of the dining room table.