A Neglected Wife's Rebellion

The walk to his truck was brisk, it was chilly out, and the wind played with her skirt again, just gently. She asked if he had seen anything earlier when they had just met. He confessed that he had seen a flash of sexy thighs and a hint of panties. Her cheeks flared red in the cold air, and for a moment she was speechless, but also very amused by the whole thing, and perhaps even emboldened. He led her to his white truck, it was midsized and looked oldish, rugged but clean, and very comfy. He opened the door for her. She hopped in again minding her skirt with her usual dainty manner. She slid over the bench-style seat to his side to open the door for him from within.

As he shut the door, they looked at each other, and for a moment appeared to not move, or breathe. But in the next moment, he had slid over closer to her and had placed his right hand on her chin, while his left was on her right hip, part of his palm just feeling the little bit of skin where the bottom of her top was high enough to leave some space above the top fabric of her skirt.

Their third kiss of the night was the easiest, for as he leaned in and led, she leaned to him and followed, and with a hunger, they tasted each other. First gentle but fiery suckles, then prodding tongues, but before it ended, they had spent a good five minutes with their tongues swirling around each other like a pair of tornadoes dancing a waltz. To him, the kiss was emboldening, yet, for now, he didn't go beyond placing gentle pressure on the skin he could feel near her right hip, though his right hand had trailed to gently hold the side and back of her head, and he ever so lightly had pulled her face closer to his. She had moaned into his tongue, and he could tell the pulling motion was turning her on.

When their kiss stopped, their faces moved away just far enough for them to look at each other's eyes. The truck was in the most remote part of a parking lot that now had only five cars, and for the moment, they could not see another soul in the lot. The old truck's lights would not turn on unless its engine was on, so other than a bit of light coming from a streetlamp about fourteen yards away, they were easily able to see each other as their eyes had adjusted, yet to anyone more than few feet away, it would appear like the truck was empty unless they were staring at it blatantly.

Stan felt one more crunch-time game-changing moment coming on. He knew overall he had her, at least by next time. He felt he could safely take a small gamble, and it would probably not scare her away outright, but maybe, it would just sway her. She was drunk, but very much in control of her logic and would still be deciding things sensibly.

Yet he wagered her temptations would now be at their highest, and if her lust was going to kick into overdrive, it would be because she was drunk enough to allow herself to feel the pleasure of letting her senses, and her needs, finally have a decisive voice. "I would like to let you feel something..." Stan said, as he gently, but directly took her right hand, and placed it on the rock-hard bulge of his pants.

She let him.

Melissa felt that things were taking a turn from her initial plans, but if anything was in overdrive, it was her decision process. Going back home, even though it was a physically cozy one, felt like returning to a prison cell. The hotel room would feel like a refuge where she would at least not sink into profound sadness. But it would not necessarily make her happy. Nor would it excite her.

The momentum of Stan, as well as the trust she was rapidly feeling for him, had all placed her in a specific situation. She was aware of the clarity of her mind, but if she had any inhibitions, they had been erased, not only by the alcohol but by the rational realization that the change and excitement she desperately wanted, could come all that sooner, as long as she would go with the flow.

Stan would not hurt her. She could be safely vulnerable with him, and he had piqued her curiosity to at least be open to being a little naughty. But most of all, the night now for her had a feeling of something akin to destiny, and a resolution. Even if she didn't fuck him, things were about to change, for the better. He was not going away, and she had him, just like he had her too. Their next encounter might be anticlimactic to everything this evening promised right now, but that encounter would happen, and they would eventually start doing what they had planned.

Melissa exhaled as she realized that the prospect of the encounter ending soon would leave her disappointed, and waiting for at least another day. She was free all weekend, and could easily call her parents, and ask them for more time babysitting Claire. They would be all about it for their selfish reasons, for they adored their granddaughter. Timid and careful as she was, she felt like maybe it was also her nature that was partially to blame for not confronting her husband sooner, or at all, and making changes happen in her life. But she needed to live a little, and Stan represented a switch, that she could flip tonight, walking out of the dark into the light as it were.

Having excitement, being wanted, and being pleasured, for her, he represented all of that, and above all a release from a status quo she might not have changed when she was sober, and allowing fear to drive her. Stan's chiseling at her lust, at making her ego feel good, and at making her finally find the courage to rebel, was not only working but now seeming to culminate in a revolution.

He had placed her right hand on the fabric of his pants, and prodding and pressing down gently, she could tell from the touch alone, that he was way bigger than Dustin, bigger than any of her previous lovers. If she could have imagined a perfect cock, she got the impression a few layers of fabric were standing between that perfect cock, and the palm of her right hand.

"It's yours if you want it. And you alone can decide." Stan looked at her beautiful eyes, and even in the dim light, she could see his handsome face, and his eyes so alive and shining, that they shone like stars in a night sky. All of their interest, all of their intensity, all of their radiance in that moment, to Melissa seemed to exist, just to look at her.

Melissa spoke softly, and her voice did what she commanded it to do, even though some part of her was incredulous at the fact that she was the one doing the speaking, "I remember...umm, back in college..." she exhaled, and continued, "I was hanging out with one of my besties. She was in my class but was a few years older, and she had taken time off after high school to travel and do odd jobs. Needless to say, I felt like she had some life experiences over me. And this convo was going on when I was a junior, sometime before I met Dustin, but had been with a few other guys...you know...intimately..." She smiled at him, hoping she was not going to confuse him. She was breathing deeply in the pause.

"I am listening...please go on..." Stan was looking at her, and her hand was still very much on top of his pants, and still feeling his cock, which shocked her, as she could swear it was harder than hard.

Melissa continued, "Bestie told me to take an index card and write down the one sex position I could have for the rest of my life if I could only pick one. The choices were missionary, girl on top, and doggy style...so I wrote my choice."

Stan was grinning, it was a soft grin, but he sensed he would like this little intermission, especially if it was what Melissa needed, to finally let herself go.

"She handed me an index card to read." Melissa smiled, "And the card read: Ladylike princesses choose missionary because they think it balances comfortable sex with appropriate submission..." She giggled softly, as she continued, "Bossy princesses chose girl on top because they like to be in control more, they like to ride a man, and use his lust to have him how they want him...and...umm...and naughty princesses choose doggy, because they find it the best way to have a hot fuck, but also be able to let go, because they don't necessarily need to make eye contact..." Melissa's smile was a slight grin, her hand still gently feeling and pressing on Stan's pants, as she whispered, "Bestie asked to see my card..."

"What did it say, Melissa?" Stan was not grinning now, he was serious, but the warmest look of seriousness she had yet seen on his face.

"Doggy...", she cooed out and blinked.

"And?" His eyes were as locked on hers, as her palm was locked on a certain part of his pants.

"A naughty princess would like to...umm...spend some time with you tonight...", she lightly licked her lower, then her upper lip, as she finished her utterance in a soft whisper, "if you will have her..."

In a lightning-fast flowing motion, Stan's right hand unzipped his pants, while his left undid his belt and button. It felt like half a blink later, and both hands had pulled his boxers and the top of his pants to right above his knees. He looked at her, and for a long moment said nothing. Then he bit his lower lip with his left incisors, and said, "Naughty princess, inspect your new bestie..." His tone was inviting, but quite commanding too.

"Oh my!" She almost moaned, as her right hand approached, then gently cupped his balls with her fingers, while her thumb and index finger firmly clasped the roots of his cock. She swallowed a gulp, and breasts heaving with deep breathing, and her piercing blues locked on the manhood offered to her, whispered, "Goodness! You are so big, Stan..."

"When we are 'playing', you can call me 'sir'," he commanded.

"Yes sir...", she happily replied in a tone that was so content, and utterly submissive.

"Good girl...", he paused to look at her reaction. She was beaming, for the phrase he had just used to call her, and the way it was said, in that smooth, firm controlling tone of his, made her smile, her eyes looking at his like they were melting for him. He added as he was easing her in, feeling like all his hard work was coming to a home run, "Use your left hand too...touch the shaft, and the head..."

She not only obeyed but was eager too, her left hand going where he had indicated. He was not necessarily long, but longer than average. But his girth looked perfect. His cock reminded him of her dildo, maybe just a little bit shorter, but thicker. Both differences were good ones. The dildo at times felt just a bit too long and hurting. She also felt if it had been a little bit thicker, she maybe just could have cum on it from penetration alone, for the stretch and pressure around her clit would be enough to make her orgasm without needing a vibrator's stimulation. She knew she would take much longer to orgasm that way, but the orgasms would be bigger, and possibly flow in waves.

As she gripped his cock with her left hand, the shiny diamond of her wedding band poked gently into Stan's belly, and she realized it, and so as not to scratch him, she braced her left hand's pinky and ring finger on the skin under his shirt. The gem caught some of the light, and faintly glistened, her married hands on another man's cock.

"Are you seeing that wedding band, and its finger, holding my cock?" He asked her, grinning playfully.

"Yes sir...", her face flared red, her cheeks turning hot in the instant, but he was channeling her guilt in a way that turned her on, and it was working.

"Play with that head a little, and keep showing off that wedding band!" He was still playful, but looked focused, in the manner of someone getting ready to change someone else's outlook on life, most dramatically.

Her hand did as it was bidden, and the motion pushed his foreskin to cover his glans, for he was uncircumcised, and both head and foreskin and parts of his shaft were now all lathered in a generous coat of his copious precum. He wasn't just rock hard, he was wet too.

Melissa closed her eyes, and seemed to sink into herself as she inhaled deeply, then opened her mesmerizing eyes, and exhaled. She locked them on Stan's, and whispered, "May I taste him...sir?"

He nodded, and took control, his right hand turned the key, and the old engine roared to life. Melissa knew where she was going, both in that moment and in that truck. A dim light momentarily turned on in the cabin, before he turned it off. But her face was already hovering over his crotch, as both of his hands took the wheel, and in unison with his feet, made the truck reverse out of the corner spot. He lifted his right elbow, to let her get closer more easily, loving the excitement of being about to receive road head, while she had the distraction of a moving car to make her forget any possible guilt that might overcome her, and make her change her mind.

But it didn't seem like her mind was about to change. Melissa was letting her lust take over, and Stan pursed his lips and breathed out because he was aware of the fact that she had just kissed the tip of his cock, after her left hand had pulled his foreskin down.

"Oh my god!" He moaned, as he felt her lips part, and swallow his head. He could tell she was actively sucking, tasting and slowly swallowing his precum. His breathing was deep, and he found the combination of needing to be alert enough to drive, but having his cock sucked at the same to drive him wild. While their Starbucks was halfway between them by distance, his route was shorter, as he was easily on the highway in moments, while hers involved a lot more local traffic. It had taken her twenty-five minutes to reach the Starbucks. He had needed about ten.

An emboldened Melissa opened her mouth more and was now swallowing his thick head, and parts of his upper shaft, feeling like if he had been any thicker, she would not have easily handled his girth in her mouth. With enough effort, she could take more of him, and when her lips were still above mid-shaft going in, she started to gag. And that turned her on.

"Oh god yes, keep sucking...good girl", he encouraged her, and it fired her up. He had gotten the car on even keel on the highway and knew his cabin was high enough, and she was low enough in it, that only something as tall as a semi could look in and see, but it was so dark that even that was not an issue.

He blinked and composed himself, because, for a woman who had been neglected by her lovers, Melissa sucked some good cock. It made his head spin, but the way she swirled her tongue around the head, the way she kept her teeth out of the way with her lips and her technique, the way she felt when she pushed herself in and made herself gag, to then go shallow and caress his head all over again, maintaining hard suction while her saliva kept lubricating him, made him feel like this was maybe the best head he had ever had. And what shocked him was that a lot of women had sucked that same cock, who would have known, that a neglected darling like Melissa, had such a talent for sucking dick.

"Melissa, keep sucking, you are such a good little cocksucker...", as he spoke he wondered if he was maybe taking a risk dirty talking her so soon, but as soon as he spoke, he heard her moan into his cock, the moan muffled by the thick throbbing flesh in her mouth. She loved it, and, even though she was the one giving him head, she would still moan, while he felt that he was doing his utmost to resist the urge to speed home. He soon figured out a distraction.

He looked at her ass and could see that as she had gotten into the sucking, she had come to lay her weight on her left hip on the seat, and had rotated her body and hips, to more easily push her face onto his manhood. Her whole frame had slid to him, and she was almost laying on the seat sideways, but she was either not aware or didn't care, that her skirt had hiked up a bit, and he could not only easily see her knees and the bottom of her thighs, but lean easily enough to see her inner thighs and the bottom of her panties. That tempted him to see more, so he took his right hand, and as much of the hem into one handful as he could, and pulled it up till her skirt was right over her mid and lower back.

"Damn girl, you have a phat ass...fuck!" His compliment was returned by a mouth that gripped tighter, and worked a little harder, to suckle, dive, gag, and suck again at his forehead for his pleasure. And she too, moaned. He couldn't resist caressing her panty-covered butt, which was lightly jiggling with the vibrations of the truck, and shook more with every movement of his exploring right hand. He spanked her lightly, and a moan answered 'Yes please'. He spanked her again, and she moaned again and leveled up the already intense sucking on his cock.

That her hygiene was pristine, he could easily see because he leaned to the right and moved his hand down her panty-covered lower back, the middle finger's tip momentarily pressed onto her fabric-covered rosebud, then to her fleshy perineum, and finally touched fabric that was not only soaked but saturated in her wetness, one hot and bothered, moist, warm and lubricated mess of fabric. Because the fabric there was so wet that it was sticking to her labia, he could easily feel that she had a fleshy pussy, that she was bushy, and that her labia were heavy from how swollen they were.

"Naughty princess...your panties are very, very wet. Just saying." He teased.

Melissa was thankful she could hide in his crotch, and maintain the suction that was blowing his mind, for the discovery made her feel ashamed. She knew the wet mess that was her panties was betraying her lust and need for him, and that was causing her a fair amount of guilt. But this guilt felt delicious. So she just kept sucking, and he just kept caressing her over her wet panties, focusing on her mound, and the very tip of his middle finger feeling what he was sure was her clit. It was small or had a thick fleshy clitoral hood or both.

'No wonder she can't cum easily, but she can cum with someone competent', he smirked and reflected, as he was aware of the fact that they were making great progress on their route to his place. His lust was running wild now, and he lifted the elastic of her panties to go under them and repeated his earlier path, his fingertips could tell her rosebud was spotlessly washed from her shower, her perineum soft and fleshy, but he bit hard on his lips when his digits felt her slit, and her eager viscous secretions lathering his fingers in copious amounts of her honey.

When his bare flesh prodded her clit and labia, she broke the sucking, and moaned out, "Oh my god...that feels so good!"

"Good girl, you just keep sucking that cock, and I am going to play with your wet little pussy." As he said it she moaned, for it was the first time he had used that word at her directly. Her head was spinning from the exertion of sucking him, but she knew, and now he did too, that giving head was an immense turn-on for her. 'So submissive, so eager to suck a cock', Stan smiled as he thought behind the wheel.

His right hand withdrew, letting her panties settle, and he brought it to his nose, inhaled, and exhaled hard loving how clean she smelled, but also how good her natural scent was. This was her after a shower, two trips to the restroom, and hours of agitation, and the aroma was divine. He wanted to taste her too, but was planning to do something he only did with the cleanest girls.

He rolled her skirt down and covered her, as his right hand, still sticky and coated in her juices, reached up to prod at his garage door opener. They had arrived at his townhouse, and he waved at a neighbor strolling on the sidewalk but quickly broke eye contact. He was in a hurry to get home.

He parked his truck in the middle of the double garage, for there was not another car to share space with, and in moments like these, he loved how spacious that was for both entering and exiting. His hand brought the door down with the press of a button, and when Melissa heard the door shut, she slowly raised her head off his cock, and with her left hand, diamond again shining in the strong fluorescent light of the garage, wiped the saliva off her sensual lips, which looked swollen and rouged from her exertions.