Forbidden Affair

Suzanne sat and watched as Art refilled her wine glass. It was late on a Saturday evening, and she looked around her sister's living room. She was visiting her sister with her kids, and everybody else had gone to bed, her sister leaving not 5 minutes ago.

As Art sat back down on the other sofa, her mind wandered, back to years ago when her sister and Art had first got together. Suzanne had used her girlish good looks and teenage body to get what she wanted. For the two years before she turned 20, Art was close to a sugar daddy for her, but it wasn't always transactional. She often enjoyed the love and care that he gave to her, and his skills with his tongue were far beyond the boys that she dated.

They sat quietly drinking, watching the end of the film that everybody else had abandoned. Suzanne's mind focused on a time when, like now, they had sat in a living room together. It was not late, like now; it was the middle of the day and the house was full of people. She smiled as she remembered the excitement that she had felt with Art rubbing her clit and fingering her, when they could be caught at any minute. There were not many of those occasions, but there had been few.

"Do you remember much from when we used to mess about?" she asked, her voice low, and as she said the words, she felt her heart race, suddenly overcome with a concern that Art might react badly to being reminded.

Casually he looked over to her, watching her for a second or two, that felt like an hour before he said, "I do a bit; and there are a couple of specific memories I recall in vivid detail. Why?"

Suzanne felt relief that he was so laid back about it, then said, "Not really sure why. I was just thinking about a time when we were both in the living room, and you fingered me, and we were almost caught."

Art laughed, "Yes, I remember that. Shit myself when your dad almost walked in, if I recall, but it was exciting." His voice trailed off slightly, like he was remembering it.

"I've not been excited like that for a long time, was all I was thinking," Suzanne mused, almost talking to herself as much as Art.

"Me either, but then we both have a few more miles on the clock since then," he replied, a rueful sound to his voice. He was right, Suzanne had 4 kids now; the oldest was 21 and the youngest, asleep upstairs, was only 6.

"Us 40-somethings don't get to have excitement like that, then?" she questioned. She was not really expecting an answer; the fun of being nineteen and taking risks wasn't really an option for a 45-year-old married woman.

The words she heard next surprised her. "Well, we could, but the risks are much higher," Art said and, almost double-take, she turned to look at him.

"What?" she said, the shock in her voice apparent.

"If you want to fool around now, with everybody asleep upstairs, that would generate the same excitement I am sure," Art said. Suzanne was not sure he was being serious, but his face wasn't screaming he was joking. There was a small knowing smile on his face that said to her he was serious.

"No, we can't," Suzanne said, her voice not really carrying the conviction that she hoped she would have found.

"Ok, your choice, but I'm game if you are," Art said, as he went back to watching the film.

Suzanne sat there, her mind spinning for a moment. Had he really suggested that? Was her heart really pounding? It was; she was excited by the idea. "Don't be daft," she told herself, even as another part of her mind screamed at her to take the opportunity. She could feel an excitement rise within her, and she was aware of how naughty she suddenly felt, just talking about it. Her mind flashed to his tongue, and the talent for making her cum that it had, before she admonished herself for the thought.

She sat in silence watching the film for several minutes, but her mind would not leave the idea of being naughty alone. She could even feel an arousal starting between her legs. She tried to dismiss it, but it kept coming back. So, she downed the wine and stood up. "Going to bed," she said, hoping that she would be able to put it out of her mind once the opportunity had passed.

As she walked past where Art was sitting, he grabbed her hand, and said, "You sure?"

Her mind screamed at her, "No, you are not fucking sure," and her heart leaped at his touch; she really was excited now. She stopped for a moment and looked at him, his hand moved and tenderly stroked up the back of her jeans over her arse. There was a delicate, tentative way to how he touched her. It somehow communicated a desire, which she had not felt from her husband for a long time.

Sex with James was good. He was good in bed, but it was sex; she didn't get a thrill from it. And right at this moment, Art stroking her bottom was thrilling. She turned towards him, and ran her hand down his face. His hand pulled her towards him a little, and then he started to undo her jeans. He was quick, and before she realised, her trousers had started to fall. Art did not push them down, he moved his hands back around her, and stroked her arse through her silky knickers. She felt them slowly fall further as he moved to stroke the inside of her legs.

She surprised herself when she realised she had leant over and was undoing his jeans, too. She had done it without thinking about it, and as she pulled them open, he slipped his fingers into the sides of her knickers and slipped them down. Momentarily she paused, her mind on the fact that the last time Art would have looked at her down there, it was the tiny unspoiled garden of a 20-year-old, complete with hair. She was bald now; she put effort into keeping it so, and moisturised her lips, pubis and mons regularly.

Suzanne slipped her hand inside Art's boxer shorts as he stroked her lips with a gentle touch that she recalled from years before. His fingers were harder, and bore the marks of a lifetime of work now, but the touch was delicate, arousing her further. She knew when he parted her lips, her juice would probably drip on him. Her hand found his cock; it was hard already, which was no surprise based on the state that she was in. She moved her hand over it, big and strong as she remembered. It was always thick; not the longest she had had, but a good length. But the girth was what she remembered most. As she exposed it, pulling it from his boxers, she smiled, the image in front of her as she remembered it, a nice shape and look to his cock. She immediately wanted to put it in her mouth.

Suzanne pulled away slightly and then dropped to her knees, taking his cock in her hand, and guiding it quickly to her mouth. Hot and pulsing with excitement, his cock slipped easily into her waiting mouth, and she took half of it in before withdrawing. As she started to play with the head with her tongue, she kicked her jeans and knickers off; she wanted to be ready for the next part. She flicked at the frenulum with her tongue, and ran it up the seam to the eye, enjoying the taste of pre-cum that she got. His hands found their way into her top and released her bra. Her tits were not big, only a C cup, but they presented enough to keep most men happy. Art moved his hands gently across her and around cupping her breasts and releasing them from the hold of the bra, his thumbs quickly finding her bullet-hard nipples and teasing them.

With a skill that she had not really used in a long time, she started to take his cock in and out of her mouth, running her tongue around it, teasing and playing with it. Her hand was moving up and down with her head to create the right feelings for him, and one of his hands let go of her tit, and came quickly into her hair, controlling the speed with which she moved, ensuring he did not cum to soon. His hands stroked her nipples and twisted at them, her own arousal rising to meet his, her mind filled with the thought that anybody could come downstairs at any minute and discover them. That thought moved across into how wrong this was, and just like when she was a young adult, that drove her arousal onward.

Art was pushing her back quite hard now; she guessed we was close to cumming. Then in a fast movement he stood, grabbed her and threw her onto the sofa, quickly driving down between her legs. Memories flooded back into her mind as Art teased his way up the inside of her leg. She wanted him at this moment; it was all she could do not to grab the back of his head and ram it into her pussy. Suzanne shook with pleasure as his tongue ran up the fold of skin where her leg met her mons, and then moaned gently into the air as it ran down the other side.

Suzanne opened her eyes and looked around, listening for any sign of movement; she had not meant to moan, but there was nothing. Her heart pounded, as much from the thought of being caught as from her arousal.

Art seemed to have not noticed or did not care. His arms wrapped around her legs and pulled her in, his tongue sweeping from the bottom of her lips to her clit, in a delicate, but effective movement that focused her mind back on the activity between her legs. His tongue moved back down, parting her lips as it went, and for the first time she felt just how wet she was, and she could not remember the last time it was like that. Suzanne moved her hand into his hair; she did not put any pressure on him, just played, as he flicked her lips this way and what, then moving back to her clit. He grazed his tongue across the top of it, and she shuddered with desire before he started to tease around it, his tongue putting pressure here and there, stretching the skin, and driving sensations through her.

Her mind filled with memories again, how many times they had nearly been caught, the unbelievable risks that they took. It was so much fun and so arousing; his tongue was flicking her clit now, and she had to bring a hand up to cover her mouth. She moaned into her hand feeling the spasms in muscles in her body, her heart racing with desire. He sucked her clit up into his mouth, sucking on it in that way that he always had, that no other man since had got right. She almost screamed with pleasure, her hand not muffling it as much as she wanted. She didn't really care, though; an orgasm was coming fast. Her body shook as he ground her clit against his teeth, and then in a release that she had not felt in a long time, she climaxed. Shaking and bucking, she fought him as he held on tight, pressuring her clit, extending the orgasm. The intensity overwhelmed her; she wanted it to stop, but it didn't. She just bucked more and more as the pleasure coursed through her.

Suzanne fought her desire to scream out, her body flinching and twisting against Art's tight grip of her. She seemed to have no control of her body; all her energy and focus was on not making noise, but several quiet moans still escaped with her ragged breathing. Her free hand pushed as hard as she could on Art's head, her vision going black as she dealt, as best she could, with the most intense orgasm she had received in a long time, and the need to not scream out.

Art released her, and from the arched tense position she was in, she collapsed back onto the sofa. The few moments of her sucking in air deeply the loudest thing in the room. She didn't notice Art removing his trousers fully. Moments later she gasped as he thrust his cock into her. It was not gentle or subtle; he had lined up and, in a fast forceful motion, broken apart her lips and rammed deep into her pussy.

He thrust in and out so hard; she had not been so roughly fucked in a long time. It was close to painful, but she loved it. She revelled in the feeling of her pussy juice coating his cock and streaming from her, down her lips and into her arse crack. For an instant, she mourned the fact that she was not this wet every time she fucked. However, that thought was replaced quickly, when she remembered that Art had always liked to fuck her in the arse. Her sister would not do that, and he loved it. It was not something she did regularly now, and she could not recall the last time, but no matter what, it was a very long time since she had taken a cock with the girth of Art in her arse.

While she was thinking that, Art had taken her legs and moved them; her knees were up by her tits, and her feet were on his shoulders. He thrust into her to his full length, his balls slapping against her arse cheeks a number of times. Her hand slipped down between her legs. Gently and carefully, she found her clit; it was still very sensitive from the treatment it had just received, but she rubbed it with the softest touch she could, her body flinching just a little.

Then the moment she knew was coming happened; Art withdrew, and positioned his cock against her arse. He paused as looked her straight in the eye, the question unspoken, but understood. She cautiously nodded. Suzanne knew it would be uncomfortable, maybe even painful, but something in her missed the sensation she got as the head settled in, her sphincter closing around his shaft, but also the feeling deep inside her body as he rammed into her full-length. She recalled several intense orgasms with him in her arse, and they were not like others that she had.

There was a push, her pussy juice doing the job, and her sphincter started to give way as he continued in. She bit her tongue as the widest part slipped through, and then the head was in; she shuddered with pleasure. Art was never one to stand on ceremony and straight away started to push in a little, then withdraw before pushing in a little more. Suzanne started to put more pressure on her clit as he did, closing her eyes and enjoying the discomfort and feelings that she only had as a distant memory.

Suzanne relaxed, her eyes closed, her hand rubbing her clit as Art slowly eased his cock further and further up her arse. It was a sensation that she enjoyed every moment of, and in the middle, she tensed as a small orgasm rolled over her. But as Art's balls pushed against her cheeks, she was building another.

Art withdrew to the tip, then in a forceful motion thrust in, making her moan. His thrusts started a rhythm and he was going from tip to full in, balls hitting her arse with every stroke. Suzanne loved every feeling that ran through her body, her clit responding. Art's thrusting was hard and she was holding back her orgasm before she knew it, waiting for Art, wanting to cum together for this last one.

Suzanne shuddered, and twitched as she rode out the fuck, her orgasm getting closer then receding as she held it, waiting. Then Art's rhythm fluctuated as he got closer, and he rammed in hard and held. Suzanne pressed, and her clit did as expected; her orgasm broke, moaning into her hand, as she felt Art's cum spray into her arse. He fell onto her, and for a moment they lay cuddling, until there was a noise on the stairs. They jumped up so fast and she was amazed how quickly they looked presentable, but whoever it was had got into the kitchen.

"Same time tomorrow night?" Art asked.

She laughed and said, "Probably," as she walked out, wanting to use the toilet then head to bed.