Ascending Lauren Ch. 14

"C'mon, baby, give it to me. Give it to Autumn."

Turning his head again, Corey saw Jax's spunk dripping onto Lauren's forehead, her hands spreading it through her hair and onto her chest. She was laughing maniacally.

"Now you know what your whore wife does with her free time, cuck."

Corey was melting down. "OH LAUREN...I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, BABE!"

Experience told the redhead he was close. A couple more tricks with her hips, a pinch or two to his nipples, and the telltale contractions began.

"Oh Jesus."

Chloe held Corey tight while the man forty years her senior whimpered, a look of sincere gratefulness in his eyes. It was not a huge orgasm, but one that gracefully spilled whatever sperm his aging balls could produce into her post-teenage cunt. "I'm there...I'm there...oh so there."

"That's a good Daddy," Chole purred, softly stroking his gray hair. "Let it flow out of you, baby. Give it all to me tonight. I'm here for you. Autumn's here for you."

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The two couples lay still in post-coital peace. Jax next to Lauren and Chloe on top of the cuckolded husband. The smell of sex permeated the room, and the only sounds were heavy breathing and the ever-present jazz, a fitting soundtrack for the glorious cooldown.

After a few minutes, Chloe rolled off the older man who stood a bit too quickly. In that moment, Corey Miller learned that it didn't matter whether a bottle of whiskey cost $50 or $800, if you drink it in its entirety, the damn thing it will drop you like a rock. And it did.

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The passed out project manager heard the apartment's front door unlatch, prompting him to open one eye. It was all he could manage. It flitted around, searching to acquire his bearings. He was now on the living room couch, still in the clothes he'd worn that night. The apartment was quiet, except for whispers in the dark kitchen. Lauren and Jax. She handed the young man an envelope, kissed him on the cheek, and pushed her well-schooled lover into the hallway with a muted laugh. With an agonizing moan, the searing pain in Corey's head forced that lone eye shut. The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness again was the sound of his wife reentering the bedroom and closing the door.

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The warmth from the rising sun caressed Corey's face as his eyes -- both of them this time -- blinked open. Microscopic dust floated about in the sunlight. Only a hum from the refrigerator broke the silence as he sat up, rubbing his neck. The headache was still there, but manageable. Staggering to the coffee maker, he heard muffled, almost imperceptible sounds coming from the other room. A fragment from the night before recalled Jax leaving, but not Chloe.

Putting an ear to the door, he at first heard nothing. Then, there it was again, a sigh, a murmur, a whimper. Slowly he turned the handle and opened the door just a smidge. He pressed an eyeball to the crack and peered in.

In the golden rays of the morning sun, he saw the girls under the sheets. Chloe was on top of Lauren and the two were embracing, lips locked in a deep kiss. The covers rose and fell where their hips were, his wife's arms folded around the redhead's back, holding her tightly. The stripper's prediction had come to fruition.

"I'm gonna fuck her too."

Their lovemaking appeared tender and lazy, with little urgency. The hallmark of morning sex. Corey couldn't look away, even though his head was in a thousand vice grips. The humping increased, whimpers morphing to moans with the occasional outburst. Chloe suddenly rose, the sheets falling from her back as she straddled Lauren's waist. With one leg extended across the raven-haired beauty's chest, foot to her cheek, the dancer began to grind her pubes into the older woman's thigh, slowly moving forward until their pussies met. As their clits came together, the women gasped. More whispers, more murmurs. They were quite oblivious to the voyeur just outside the room.

With Lauren holding her lover's leg tightly, they fucked each other passionately, moving in rhythm, mewling and panting. Slit to slit, their hips moved in an erotic dance, putting delicate but effective pressure on their swollen clits. Their breathing became rapid, moans turning to primal grunts. Lauren cried out when Chloe placed a palm on the woman's labia and began tap-tap-tapping the clit while at the same time sliding their sopping wet holes against one another.

"Yessss, Chloe...yes Chloe!"

Corey looked on as his wife writhed beneath the redhead, her hips thrusting upward involuntarily to meet the young girl's. It was one of the most sensual and erotic things he'd ever seen. He squeezed his crotch but there was no reaction. His fried brain simply would not connect to his weary cock. Several minutes passed as the pace -- and the women's groans - increased substantially. The sheen from their sweat began to cover shoulders and bellies. Friction between their legs was evidenced by occasional squeaks, but kept to a minimum by the copious amount of juices flowing from both of their very lubricated pussies.

It wasn't long before the pair were sneering at each other with an intense, carnal kinship. Chloe threw her head back and howled at the ceiling. Lauren sunk into the pillows, lungs forcing primitive and almost unearthly rumbles from deep within her. The two lovers came at the same time, fittingly, having shared a special moment, one that had been building since that portentous lap dance weeks ago. The younger woman collapsed next to her new friend, and they cuddled affectionately, whispering things only they could know while regaining control of their breathing and emotions.

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Corey backed away from the door with mixed thoughts, gently closing it, not wishing to interrupt the tender moment. A moment similar to one he himself had hope to share with his wife that night. He crept to the kitchen island and began to brew coffee, head hung low.

The day was not at all beginning the way he had hoped.

Here nearly twenty-four hours and everyone's fucked my wife...except for me.

Perhaps it would get better. His phone chimed as he poured a cup of joe, and a reminder popped up on screen.

Dale Dactyl, Job interview, Le Café, 2 hours.

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