Bingo!

"Mmmmm," I said. "Hebrew National."

So there it was: sex but no sex. A President Clinton Special. I drove home licking my lips, basking in the after-glow, thankful that the German auto industry made Porsches such a delight to ride in and so difficult to fuck in--- , relieved that Ian and I hadn't crossed the final frontier, but aroused anew by thoughts of how I would tell all this to Dave that night.

(end part one)

**********************

"BINGO!" (part two)

By Coaster

There wasn't going to be any middle ground. Dave would either be aroused, or, I feared, go cold and silent, and ever more distant as it weighed on him--- and the idyll of our marriage would be lost. I was ready with the coy approach, the "Oh c'mon, I was only testing to see how you'd react" school of marital admissions, but I knew that wasn't going to hold much water.

We had turned in with our bedside readers, me in my teddy, Dave naked as always, and we were just about to turn out the reading lights when I said, as casually as I could, "Honey, guess what I did this afternoon?"

Dave barely glanced up from his book. "Hmm?" he repled. "What, honey?"

I took a deep breath. "Well, you know how we're always fantasizing about me fucking another man . . .?"

Dave bolted upright, peeled off his glasses. "YOU DIDN'T?!?!?!" he gasped.

"Well no, not exactly," I said.

"What do you mean 'not exactly'?"

I was flustered. "Well . . . oh God! Where do I start?"

"Start at the beginning."

Dave turned out the light, snuggled up to me. His initial amazement was rapidly turning to lust. I breathed easier.

"Well, a couple weeks ago, I met a man online. . .we chatted . . ."

"Cyber?"

"A little, yes."

"Phone?" Dave 's cock was hard now, pressing against my thigh.

"Mmm-hm"

"So you met him today?"

"For lunch. . ."

"And . . .?"

"And after lunch, we went for a drive and . . . "

"And then?"

"Well, we didn't . . ."

Dave was moving lightly against me. One hand slid inside my teddy and fondled my tit. I felt my own arousal stirring. "Tell me what you did," he said.

"I don't want you to be mad . . ."

His free hand slipped beneath me, cupped my butt, turning me on my side, drawing me closer, so his cock was pressed against my mound.

"But I don't want you to be mad."

"Does this feel like anger?" he breathed. Oh, he was so hot, so hard! I wanted him so!

"We parked. We talked."

"That wasn't all . . .?"

"Well, we kissed . . ."

"And then?"

"He felt me up."

"Bare tit?"

"Yes."

My teddy was off now, on the floor beside the bed.

"He fingered you?"

"Yes."

"Like this?"

"Yes."

"Did you touch him?"

A pause. "Yes, honey, I . . ."

"His cock?"

"Yesssssss . . ."

With each admission, Dave became more excited, more eager to hear more--- and my own pussy grew hotter, more ready for his hard hot cock. I reached down and caressed his cockshaft. Dave was fingering me now, two fingers, deep.

"Did you suck him?" he whispered.

His fingers were driving me mad. " . . . Ooooooh, God! Yes, baby, I sucked his cock. . ."

Dave groaned, kissed me, parted my thighs and moved between them. His cockshaft lay in the wet crescent of my cunt lips; his cockhead rubbed my throbbing clit.

"Did he . . . you know . . .?"

A long pause. His prick on my clit was an agony of pleasure. I couldn't bear it any longer.

"Yes," I blurted. ". . . I sucked him off, and he came in my mouth, and I swallowed it, all but a little bit that dribbled down my chin . . ."

Dave licked my chin. And then he was in me, his loving prick sliding, sinking into my eager cunt, pressing its walls. opening me as I'd wanted so desperately to be opened by Ian's cock that afternoon. He moved in a slow, familiar pumping motion, opening the folds, spreading the walls, filling me with hot hard male flesh.

"You wanted him in you . . . like this?"

"Yes."

"Wanted to fuck him. . ."

"Yes!"

"Why didn't you?"

"It was raining outside; his car was a Porsche--- too small to fuck in."

His cock, his words, kindled fires deep inside me, sent them soaring, bathing my cunt in a sheath of flame. But even as I felt my orgasm rising, my mind was crying out for something new, something never before known--- for Ian's hard, thick prick! The vision of his cock flashed in my mind's eye. And shifting from past tense to present, I said simply, "YES, hon! I want his cock. . . I want him in me! I want to fuck him!"

Then my lust poured out, unchecked. " I want to feel his prick where yours is now! Want his cum where yours will be. And then I want to tell you--- and, oh, Jesus, Dave, honey, luv . . . I'm gonna cum!! Don't stop! Ooooh fuck me. . ."

"You're going to fuck him, aren't you . . .?"

"YESSSSSS! I'M GOING TO FUCK HIM! YESSSSSSSSSS! "

Suddenly, Dave rose up over me, spasmed, stiffened, grunted. His prick pulsed inside me, erupted. His hot cum spurted, squirted into me. And in the burning heat of its squishy presence, my own orgasm rumbled over me like a thunder storm of flame. I shuddered, writhing beneath him, and in a far off corner of my mind I heard my long, low, orgasmic moan. But in the throes of my ecstacy, I couldn't tell if I was moaning for Dave or for Ian.

Dave sank down beside me. Ian's image faded as reality returned, and my body melded with my husband's in blissful ecstacy. Dave cuddled me. He kissed me--- my eyes, my nose, my cheeks and lips. His soft prick slipped from my nuzzling cunt, and our mingled juices dribbled down through the crack of my butt and puddled on the bedsheet. Dave was my man, my Loving Man.

"You're okay?" I asked timorously.

He brought his face close to mine. His eyes burned in the darkness. His voice was gravel, his reply a comment that changed our lives : "I wish his car was bigger."

(part 2 to come)

BINGO! (part 3)

By Coaster

It was another fortnight before Ian and I met again for lunch--- two weeks of wild fantasies and wilder nights as David and I played out my tale again and again, pushing me closer and closer to its erotic resolution until . . .

It was the same little Sichuan restaurant; the same spicey prawns. "Our place," Ian called it. He smiled, took my hand across the white linen tablecloth, and looked into my eyes. "Jew Row," I said, and then, "I told David." Ian momentarily choked on his tea. "It's all right," I assured him. "I just wanted you to know--- because this is here and now . . . It isn't an affair."

He looked down. "I understand." And then softly, almost as a wistful question, he added: "I've gotten us a room . . .?"

I squeezed his hand. No more needed to be said. The fires within me kindled as we ate; rose up as we got into his Porsche and sped away; reached firestorm proportions as the motel loomed into view. I was shaking with a mixture of fear and anticipation. The deadbolt to our room snapped shut like a pistol shot: I thought: I am about to fuck a man who's not my husband!

Ian was kind. He'd stopped, laid in wine to chill before we met. He offered me a small bronze pipe, lit it, and I inhaled as he uncorked the wine. The thick smoke burned as it went down, but sent me spinning as I exhaled, calming my ragged nerves, but further firing my furnace of lust. I felt my mind floating near the ceiling; my body an inferno. I stood at the window looking out at the passing cars, wondering what I was doing here ----was I insane?--- and aching to feel the cock I'd already sucked pushing inside me.

He came up behind me, slipped his arms around me, cupped my tits--- not my breasts, my tits, my nipple-hardening tits--- in both his strong yet gentle hands. He tongued my ear and nuzzled my neck. I could feel his cock--- that cock I'd sucked--- hardening, pressing on my butt. I reached up and drew closed the window drape, then turned and kissed him long and deep, and felt his prick against my mound.

"I want you," he said, his hands on my butt, pulling me closer as we kissed.

"I want you too," I gasped.

"Want what?"

He was taking off my blouse.

"I want your cock . . . in me!"

My hand found his hardness through his pants.

"To tell your husband?"

"Yes!" I said.

My blouse and bra, my skirt slipped to the floor.

"To tell him what?" he asked.

I was holding his stiff prick, gently stroking its soft skin.

"To tell him how we fucked!" I said.

He only moaned and slithered his tongue into my mouth. "I can taste your arousal on your breath," he said.

"I can feel yours in my hand," I replied.

We were naked now, tumbling on the bed, kissing in locked embrace, and I could feel his hot hard prick against my mound and belly. "Oh God!" I said. "I want you in me!"

He rubbed his cockhead on my hot and swollen clit.

"Don't tease," I pleaded.

He slipped a pillow under my butt and sluiced his cock up and down in the hot wet cleft between my cunt lips.

"Don't!" I begged. "Put it in me!"

"Put what?" he demanded.

"Your cock. . . your hot stiff cock . . . stuff it in me . . . fuck me!"

I felt it sliding in my eager, hungry, juicy cunt.

"Oh yes!" I said, and then went mad--- my arms around his neck, my legs around his back, heaving up to meet each powerful thrust, sinking back for his withdrawal, mumbling a litany of fuck-talk into his ear.

"Shove it in me . .. fuck me deep . . . don't stop . . don't stop . . . Oh God! Oh God! Don't stop . . . Fuck! Oh FUCK! I'm gonna cum! YES NOW!"

And as that fucking fire storm roared over my shuddering body, I felt him spasm, felt his prick jerk once and then again, felt it pulse and pulse as burning semen spurted, squirted, gushed into the blazing furnace of my cunt. And then, as we sank back down, he kissed my eyes, my cheeks, my lips, and I slowly felt serenity in the savoring of our amazing bliss.

That quiescence didn't last long. By the time the afternoon was over, we'd fucked every which way--- missionary, doggie, me on top, in bed, on the floor, in the shower. The bedsheets were drenched in bodily juices and half way off on the floor. The bathroom towels were soaked. I'd licked his cock, his balls; he'd tongued my cunt and clit and butt. And we'd said everything dirty there was for two horny lovers to say. Pardon: not lovers. By the rules my husband and I had laid down, this was a one-time shot. And it made it all the better for that.

We finally simply ran out of gas--- probably dozed off a bit. In the slop we'd made of our rented room. Ian had cum in me three times; his semen had puddled on the bed. As for me, I'd lost count, but my cunt was sore, and I was already thinking ahead.

It was just before five o'clock. My husband would still be at the office. As Ian dressed, I punched David's number. His secretary answered, said he was at a staff meeting. I asked her to take a message.

"Of course," she said formally.

I smiled. "Just tell David that tonight is 'Bingo!' night."

"At the church?" she asked.

I smiled and blew Ian a kiss as he slipped out the door. "David will understand," I said with a smile.