tagLoving WivesAre You Sure About This? Ch. 02

Are You Sure About This? Ch. 02


Was this a mistake?

Dave sat in the driveway, hand frozen inches above honking the horn.

Clearly, in his wife's mind, what she'd done and was planning on doing was swinging. In other words, she wasn't cheating on him. She was doing it FOR him. It was what he'd wanted...or at least, what he'd convinced them both he wanted.

And yet, at one point, it really had held appeal for him. That whole vision had been misguided, though.


He saw her in his mind, writhing atop Sam's body. A fit body, well built. He looked down at the pale, freckled skin of his narrow arms, the hint of belly under his shirt, and all he felt was anxiety and jealousy. Fear. He didn't want it. Not at all.

What might happen if he were to honk right now? Were they together, planning their evening? Was she napping, as she often did after any kind of sexual activity? Would he wake her up? Would she discover that she'd been wrong all along?

Would she be humiliated? Would she be furious with herself? With him?

He slapped his own forehead. What was wrong with him, that he was becoming so incapable of decision-making all of the sudden? Each moment he sat here was a moment lost. He wanted to scream.

All he could muster was a moan.


A moan escaped her.

Gripping, for the first time in years, an unexplored version of what made males such fascinating and foreign creatures, Sharon felt that strange mix of firm strength and soft defenselessness that penises have. As she wrapped her hand around the one below her, she felt that long-forgotten form of desire that only exists early in a relationship. Sam moaned back at her, feeling her gentle touch, and she smiled as she lifted the flesh in her hand until it pointed at her.

Leaning forward, she felt that rush of endorphins peak as, for the first time in 10 years, a penis other than her husband's brushed against her lips. It twitched in her grasp, pleasing her. She planted a gentle kiss on the underside, watching Sam intently, and hummed at the taste as she ran her tongue from the base up to the tip. The move left her mouth hovering, open, just above the organ.

Here goes, she thought to herself, and let the first few inches slip into her. She had to hold her jaw a bit wider for this man than for her husband, and she hoped she wouldn't tire early. She wanted to do good. He reached down, running his hands through her hair.


Dave Drake ran his hands through his hair, and brought the one hand down towards the horn again.

And again, he stopped it before it hit.

No, he thought. That's not the way to do this. Hell, they probably wouldn't even pay attention to a horn noise...they'd just figure it was meant for somebody else. A driver cutting somebody else off, perhaps.

No, not the horn. The front door.

He unbuckled his seatbelt, his hands fumbling in his nervous haste.


She sucked, creating a seal with the lips she kissed her husband with, and felt the mushroom head swell a little between the roof of her mouth and her flattened tongue. She began a slow bobbing motion, allowing his tip to threaten to go just a little too deep on each slow drop, then pulling at him as she retreated.

Obviously everything that had happened up to this point had been dubious, by the rules of marriage. To be so passionately engaged with another man was not exactly adhering to the vows directly. But this was a clear step beyond all that. It felt like it was in a whole other league...something beyond her ability to understand. How could it be possible that she was here, sucking on this other man's cock, with her husband's blessing?

And how could she be enjoying it so much?

Her hand pulled at the member as her lips retreated, leaving a trail of spit that clung to her bottom lip as she pulled off and looked up at Sam. The strand broke after a moment, but she could see that he'd enjoyed seeing it. Looking at his face, the taste of his cock still on her tongue, she felt that same heady lust she got from kissing him, from feeling his hands on her. Only now it was mixed with a sense of control...of being IN control.

He smiled at her, eyes half-closed in a way that reminded her of her own reaction to pleasure, and she continued running her hand over the glistening shaft as she dipped down to work her lips and tongue over his testicles. Another moan from above got her thinking...as much as this was a step beyond the make out sessions from before, once he came there was no going back. A blowjob can be stopped...an incomplete act. But that one orgasm would cement this event forever.

It was something she rarely did for her husband, but as she pressed her tongue to the skin below his testicles and ran her thumb over the head of his penis she knew that she WANTED this man to cum in her mouth.


Dave jumped out of his car, feeling good about his decision.

Somehow, he couldn't believe that it was too late. Hell, he was sure it WASN'T too late.

A blowjob was a big deal, it would be hard to get over, but they hadn't had SEX yet. If he could just talk to them, he could clear up the whole situation...hurt nobody's feelings. He almost laughed as he headed up the walk. Imagine him sitting there panicking, and he still had HOURS to stop them before they made love.

A blowjob. Okay. They could get past this. Hell, there was no way she let guy cum in her mouth. She hated that. On the rare occasion that she did give him a complete blowjob, as opposed to during foreplay, she would almost inevitably pull back when he announced his impending eruption. Then she would grab a nearby Kleenex and milk him into that, preventing any mess whatsoever.

This was a strangely comforting thought, . For some reason, that barrier between his wife and Sam was important to him. Very important.

He made his way to the door.

- Sharon opened her eyes and caught a glimpse of it all as she worked. Glistening flesh, wet with her saliva, tilted this way and that according to her own movements. Beyond it, heavy breaths drew a muscular torso in and out, and a man's face tilted upwards with eyes closed and mouth open in pleasure.


It was the only word Sam said, but it spoke volumes. Sharon had been running her open mouth up each side of his shaft in alternating strokes, her tongue out to catch his sensitive crown on each run-by, but now she dove deep, pulling half his penis into her mouth and bobbing fast in long pulls. Her hand clung tightly to him, just below her lips, extending the area of stimulation.

He was gasping, his hand on her head. His buttocks flexing. Thin, salty fluids seeped out of him, a warning of what was about to happen. His breathing held short, deep animal grunts that pleased her.

For some reason, at this moment a little voice in her head reminded her that it wasn't too late to stop. 'You can never take this back,' it reminded her. She thought about that. Where was Dave right now? How would she feel about all this when she saw him next?

What should she do? Should she stop? Was this the wrong thing for her to be doing? What did Dave want? What did SHE want?

The penis swelled in her mouth, one final warning.


Dave turned away from the front door, walking the perimeter of the house around to where the driveway curved into the garage.

The jeep was gone.

It had just registered in the corner of his eye as he marched up to the door, but it took a few moments for him to realize what it meant. He held his face up against the garage window, even though the vehicle was always outside in good weather.

Just the Lexus. Nothing else.

Sam ALWAYS drove the jeep. He loved it, even though it was old and he could afford much nicer vehicles. Tina, on the other hand, couldn't stand the thing as a general principle. She thought it was too rough, the seats uncomfortable. She wouldn't have driven it off....

Shit, he thought. Sam wasn't even there. And that meant Sharon wasn't either.

He looked back in the garage. Tina's purse, often left on the small table near the entrance to the house, was gone. Nobody was here. Where would they be, though? He thought for a moment, checking his watch. Too early for supper.

Butterflies took flight in his stomach. How could he stop them if he couldn't FIND them? For a moment he considered setting up camp right where he was until they returned. But would they return? Sam and Tina were wealthy. They had a little beach house a few hours down the road. They could afford a night in a fancy downtown hotel. They liked to spend time in fancy clubs, coming home late. No, he couldn't stay here.

Then it hit him. Tina was supposed to be coming over to see HIM later. Even if Sam didn't drop her off, she would have the number to his emergency cell...the one he only used for clients. The one he ALWAYS HAD WITH HIM.

As long as they called immediately, everything should be fine. Right?


He climbed in the jeep, started it up, and headed home. Everything would be okay. For some reason, the image of Sharon pulling away from a blowjob and hurriedly grabbing a Kleenex, her face squinted up in that slightly-squeamish blanch, entered his mind. And, equally inexplicably, the image was of great comfort.


The first blast flooded her mouth in one long, thick spurt. He practically roared as he came.

She didn't even have time to think as she swallowed quickly and the next blast started. It was shorter, though still ample, and she was able to keep it in her mouth rather than struggle to keep up. Sam's orgasm continued to subside into a drawn out series of flexing, gasped spurts that offered far more reasonable amounts of his release. Sharon held his tip in her mouth, eyes locked on his, surprised at the heat and pride of the moment. Surprised to have no trouble with the semen in her mouth, to not have to fight an urge to gag. Surprised to feel sexy and, if anything, more aroused than before.

And, especially, to feel no guilt.

As he sighed contentedly, she made a show of swallowing noisily took a few final pulls from his softening sex, as though hungry to collect all of what he had to offer. She was pleased to see the effect this display had on him. Then she crawled up and laid her head on his chest.

"Wow," is all he said.

"Mmm, thank you." She kissed his pec.

"That was the best...I...the best ever." She smiled. "What about Tina?"

"She'd agree, if she'd seen it." They both laughed.

They lay for a moment, silently. She thought about his sperm in her belly, tried to remember the last time she'd done that, and suppressed a little burp. She tried to remember a time, any time, when she had enjoyed it that much. Suddenly, unexpectedly, she remembered a boy she'd dated her senior year of high school back in Kansas. A track runner, who had also a bit out of her league as she gained weight throughout the year they dated. But he had on occasion visited family in nearby Nebraska, always returning with some of the fantastic pot his uncle grew. For whatever reason, whenever they got high off that stuff, she had always felt a strong urge to go down on him...and it had always been amazing. Needless to say, he'd made it a point to visit his uncle whenever he could.

She giggled at the memory. That was four years before she'd met David.

Sam stroked her hair and asked, "How do you feel?"

"Great," she snuggled against him.

"No guilt?"

She stopped, quiet for a moment. "I don't know," she said honestly. "But I know I want to continue."


"Absolutely." She hoisted herself up on her elbows, and looked at his handsome face. "Anyway, if something goes wrong, Tina will call, right?"


"Good," she settled back on his chest, twiddling her hair with one finger, and asked mischievously, "Are we going to the beach house?"

"Do you want to?"

"Oh yeah."

"It's really more of a cabin," he reminded her. "It's not very impressive."

"Will you be there?"

"Well, that could be arranged I suppose."

"Then I'm sure I'll be impressed. What time is it now?"

"Almost two-thirty."

"Then we can lay here a while longer?"

"If you want to," he patted her head.

"I am," she admitted lazily, "most content."

"Very well," he grabbed the alarm clock, "we leave in an hour."


Time past with grueling slowness. Dave's certainty faded as the sun drew lower on the horizon. He checked the clock, as he had been every five minutes ever since getting home.

Seven o'clock. Jesus. Tina sure was taking her time getting there. What the fuck was the woman doing?

Dave paced anxiously. Finally, the doorbell rang. He rushed to answer.

"Been waiting for me?" Tina winked.

"Get in!" he practically yanked her through the door. "I need your help."

"Sure," she said, surprised. "What's wrong?"

"Can you call your husband for me?"


"Sam. Wherever he is, I need to talk to him RIGHT NOW!"

"Okay, hon, sure. Something up?" She looked nervous, uncertain. It was not a look she wore well. He was reminded again that her beauty was incredibly delicate, seeming to abandon her at just the wrong times.

"I have fucked everything up royally," he ran his hand through his hair, "but I'm about to fix it. Just call him!"

She pulled her cell phone out and dialed.


Ocean waves roared against the beach. Seagulls sang the great water's praises, and in the distance ships worked to keep it lit. A row of cabins sat nestled together amongst the large resorts, expensive and elusive yet infinitely humbled by the towers that surrounded them.

Of those cabins, only one offered any light. Some were weekend getaways that not every weekend would share, but most of the others were victims of wealthy indulgence...just toys to be bought that lost their luster as soon as they were acquired. A few were nothing more than something to be casually mentioned at parties and manipulated with accountants. Some of them still received their benefactors with some amount of frequency...every three months, every four. Some hadn't held a heartbeat in a year.

But the one cradled two heartbeats, close together and getting closer yet. And outside that cabin, on the gravel driveway next to a parked Lexus, Sam Price's emergency phone rang unheard where it had fallen when he climbed out of the car.


"No answer again." Between Dave's strange behavior and her husband's failure to answer the one line he always answered, Tina was getting more anxious with every second. "Can you just tell me what's going on?"

"Where are they?" Dave asked instead, returning to his pacing.

"Dave! Dammit!"

"I never touched you!" he roared suddenly, turning on her. She backed away, but he made no move to attack. Instead, he sighed and fell into the armchair behind him. "At the party. I never touched you. You were drunk. I held your hair while you puked and I put you to bed, because I realized I'd made a mistake. The whole thing. A mistake. I couldn't go through with it. So I broke up their little make-out session and I wish it had ended there."

She stared, realization sinking in. "You mean we never..."


"And you pushed me away when I tried to...oh, God, Dave. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. THEY don't know. You have to believe it."

"I know it," he pointed at the letter from that morning. Tina recognized it; she'd seen it written.

"They're at the beach house," she said, half-collapsing onto the couch.

"Call that number, then!"

"We don't have a landline there."

"Why isn't he answering his fucking cell?!?" He pounded on the armrest, looking small and helpless.

"I can only think of one reason," she half-whispered.

He stared at her, his jaw clenched. "Then let's go."

"It's almost two hours drive." She put her head down on her hands, almost crying. "God, I'm so sorry. It's my fault."

"It's not. It's mine. Now let's GO. I'll drive."

"Dave...it'll be 9:30 before you ever even arrive. It'll almost certainly be too late."

"You don't know that."

"I do! I know my husband, and..." she buried her head in her hands, "I know your wife is going to go through with it all because I helped her talk herself into it."

"We have to try. You have to try. For me."

She nodded. "Okay."


"That was delicious," Sharon said, as she rinsed her plate.

"Thank you. It's nothing special, really...Tina taught me." Sam came up behind her, and she snuggled back against him. The whole drive down, as they'd talked and laughed, she was struck by how intense their connection was becoming. She knew she should be worried about that, just as she should be worried about how her husband would respond when he learned that she'd swallowed Sam's semen, that it had been in her belly. Or wherever else it may end up before the night was over.

She giggled to herself, and his firm hands rubbed her shoulders.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"I guess I'm just excited," she said, not worried at all. She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I didn't expect to feel this...way about you."

"I know what you mean," for a moment, a sadness past over his features. Then it was gone.

She bit her lip. "Should we be afraid of this?"

He stroked her hair. "Yes. But I'm not."

"No, me neither. Tomorrow?"


She shrugged it off. "Maybe. Right now I don't think I can feel anything but want."

They kissed, and his hands slipped underneath her shirt.


"How much further?"

"Forty minutes. At the speed limit."

"Goddamn it!" Dave was definitely not going the speed limit. But still he felt it wasn't fast enough.

For the first half hour of the drive they'd talked, sorting out the errors and miscommunications that had led them to this moment. Even for casual swinger Tina, a taste of jealousy emerged from the thought of the one-sided affair they were now desperate to stop. Worse, she feared that she may have helped in the downfall of her best friend's marriage.

Now, they only spoke of how much further they had to go. Each one prayed silently that they'd get there before it was too late.


Sharon fell onto the bed, bare but for her panties. She watched hungrily as Sam lifted his shirt over his head.

Wow, she thought, watching his body's movements. He unbuttoned his pants but left them on as he climbed over her. Hands found the back of her neck and cupped her right hip. Lips found the base of her neck. She hummed and craned her head to the side, offering her throat as though to a vampire. The mix of lust, anticipation, and pleasure was euphoric, more so as his kisses dropped below her collarbone and his fingers began tracing up her thigh.


"You'll really piss me off if you get us both killed, Dave!" Tina clung to her seatbelt as the car turned the corner so hard, it seemed destined to roll.

"Now where?" he asked, ignoring the comment. So close, now. So close.

"In four more blocks you'll take a left."

"And then?"

She looked over at him. "Maybe ten minutes."



His tongue, at last, stopped teasing and made contact.

Sharon gasped, arms flying out seeking resistance of any kind, as his lips and tongue began exploring her sex. One hand found the wall, palm pressing hard against it. The other gripping the headboard above her. Her entire body moved like the waves on the ocean. Legs that might have tentatively opened any other time had spread easily, and her calves now spasmed in tiny kicks. A low moan escaped her, and as his tongue expertly massaged her softest spots her first rippling orgasm spread through her.

Leaving the headboard, her hand dropped down to rest on the back of his head, which was dipped between her legs as though in worship.


"Come on, Mike. He's with me," Tina begged.

"Sorry, ma'am. Community rules. No vehicles in after eight."

Dave stared blankly, face red with rage. "I'm going fucking in," he said quietly.

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