My husband and I bought an old mansion over the summer. It was the former home to a once famous movie director. Dan looked at it as a money pit, but I fell in love with the grandeur of the place. I was so excited during escrow; I would twirl through the halls when no one was looking, and couldn't wait to get the keys and call it our own.

Dan is an attorney for a small office that deals with insurance claims. We're successful enough to keep me at home, and to afford the occasional deals that come our way - like this mansion. Eight bedrooms, six baths and even a full ballroom that we would probably spend the rest of our lives fixing, decorating, and furnishing.

I met Dan when I worked at the bookstore. Yep, that's all I did was sell books, but it was a wonderful job that brought me close to the stories and lives of people who hungered to learn or be remembered. Dan would come in to sip coffee and look over the bestsellers. He had an eye for political books. Politics bores me, but Dan was so earnest that I couldn't help but smile whenever he would sheepishly ask around for one of "those" books. The store manager liked to hide certain books that didn't agree with his political philosophy, and Dan was from the wrong side of the political spectrum. After a while, Dan would just ask for me because I always showed him where they were or went and got them from the back. Pretty soon I was hearing the juvenile "Dan plus Linda, sitting in a tree..."

Good grief, I was in my thirties.

That little relationship grew though, and we were married three years later. That was four years ago, and what a happy four years.

After escrow closed on the house, we spent several days moving in and unpacking. I often found myself stopping what I was doing and just gazing around at the wonderful old home. I spent the better part of a whole morning just exploring every room and closet. I even poked around in the empty attic. I can't say I ever felt anything suspicious, but there were times I would feel like Dan had walked up next to me but when I would look, no one was there. There was nothing creepy about the incidents, because I never heard or physically felt anything. But a few times I thought I sensed things, like memories of the past or a nostalgia that nibbled at the edges of my conscious.

The first night Dan and I made love in the house, we had a fire going. Sex between us was always energetic and exhausting. I had no complaints in that department; I was fulfilled. Dan kept a goofy smile on my face almost all the time since we had sex at least four times a week. But that first night felt naughty, for some reason. I felt like we were being watched, but not in a sinister or creepy way. It almost felt like a neighbor was getting his kicks off of us through some wispy curtain. If anything, it made our sex more flamboyant, as if we were showing the watcher what he was missing. As we were laying there afterward, I felt a strange sense of satisfaction and love. Strange in that it seemed deeper than usual.

That night I dreamt of steam and machinery. I dreamt of flickering lights and horses. I don't know why. When I woke, I had a funny smell in my nose that reminded me of freshly ironed starch.

Dan left for work, it was Friday. There were boxes still to be unpacked, but I put little effort into working at it. I mostly spent the day gliding through the halls in my underwear. I don't always put on any more clothes than are necessary, and this day was no exception. Dan loves to see me dressed minimally, anyway. I was standing in the kitchen rinsing a glass when I felt Dan come into the room. He placed his hand lovingly on my shoulder and squeezed. I could feel a hint of his breath on my bare shoulder; he was about to kiss it.

I love it when he does that.

But something was different. His cologne wasn't right. This had a rich leather-cinnamon smell that wasn't as complex as the expensive stuff my husband wore. I jerked a little that someone had come into the house and was touching me, but when I turned there wasn't anyone there. I touched my own shoulder but couldn't recall the exact feeling. In fact, I wasn't even sure I had really felt a touch. I sniffed the air but couldn't bring that scent to mind.

I began to realize after lunch that I was feeling horny. I had a heat between my legs that just wouldn't quit. I've seen all those movies where scantily clad women spend all day touching themselves, but I wasn't one of them. I wanted the real thing and that meant waiting for Dan to get home. That also meant hoping that I could somehow arouse him for a day-after repeat of the previous night. We usually went at it and then skipped a day. I found myself despairing that he might be too tired or wore out from the previous night. The heat in me wasn't going away, either. The real shock came when I found myself staring out the backyard window at all the trees and rubbing myself through my panties - almost like I was absently scratching an itch.

No, I didn't feel itchy or anything, so why was I absently stroking my panties? I laughed at myself and turned away from the window, but then I stopped. What was wrong with me if I scratched an itch? Would that mean I was sick in the head? I felt angry at that thought. I tossed my hair back and turned to the window again. I stuck my foot up on the sill in a defiant move and slid my finger in through the side of my panties. I gave myself a stroke to show that there was nothing wrong with doing it.

Wow. Shivers ran through me. I needed Dan, bad.

The heat in me grew to the point where I headed to the bedroom. As I went I stripped off my lace. Off came the bra and panties. I put them on the bed and felt naughty. I almost felt like I was showing my nakedness to anonymous strangers. I felt shy and nervous. I felt like to step outside my bedroom would be like walking around some stranger's house naked.

That was silly. this was my house.

I walked out of the door and purposely wandered around the house. I could almost feel eyes roaming over my body, feeling my neck, sliding over my breasts, stroking my hips and probing my folds. My heat continued to grow. I wanted to stop and play with myself to relieve the ache, but I knew it would only be temporary. I kept moving. I did the twirls along the hallways and occasionally I found myself running my hands over my breasts and sometimes down to my mound.

All I was doing was teasing myself.

I had worked mself to a fever pitch and needed Dan something terrible. I wasn't making the situation any better. I went back to the bedroom and slipped on my underwear and a sundress. I spent the rest of the day unpacking, like I should have been, and not playing with myself.

Unfortunately, Dan was late and tired. Fridays are often that way. He usually was very good about making up for it by taking me out on Saturday. He was so good to me. He fell asleep early, and I laid for a little bit in bed, reading. Twice, I found my hand wandering down to the heat that still sat there. I resolved to wait until tomorrow. I fell asleep arguing with myself. I needed to be fucked - no, just wait.

Dan must have sensed my need. I felt his hand slide down my lower stomach and under my panties. I felt his lips press against mine and his tongue slip into my mouth. I was groggy, coming out of my sleep slowly. I opened my legs for his hand and kissed him back. Our kiss grew more passionate and his finger rubbed across my clit.

Ohhhhh you just don't know how good that felt. It was achy and needy all at once.

I opened my eyes in the dark. I could see Dan above me, leaning over. Usually he just rolls over and loves me from the side. The kiss probed deep, and I could feel the passion reach down into my lungs, my heart. I felt like I could cry. He stopped kissing for a moment and I drew in a ragged, heart-pounding breath. My pussy was on fire and his touch was stoking the flames, fanning them higher. I could feel my juices flush through me and leak out.

In that wakening delirium, I noticed something odd. The cologne tickled my memory as not being Dan's usual fragrance.

I tried to speak to ask what he was wearing, that I liked it, but his mouth gently descended on mine again. His tongue lovingly stroked my own tongue and his lips pressed against mine sensually. I couldn't talk, but I was awake now. My body was on fire and my limbs felt weak. My heart was pounding in lust and my nipples were hard and aching to be touched.

As if reading my mind, Dan moved his head down and started nuzzling my breasts. This was new for Dan, he usually played with them using his hands. My eyes were adjusted to the light now, and despite my delirium, I added up the differences. Turning my head, I saw Dan laying next to me in bed, turned away. I snapped my head back to the man leaning over me who had expertly played my body like a violin. In the dim light, I could see him look at me. He smiled and put his finger over his lips. He had dark hair, slicked back in a style no longer worn in this day and age.

I tried to panic. I tried to act hysterical. I tried to act the way you would have expected me to react. I tried to be scared. But in the instant I was trying, I realized that I wasn't. Still, some man was leaning over me doing things he wasn't supposed to.

"Dan!" I croaked in a sleepy voice.

The stranger shook his head and lowered his tongue to my nipple. He was slow and deliberate in his actions. I gasped as electricity shot from my nipples down to the clit his fingers were lightly brushing. My body was responding and there was nothing I could do. I tried to reach an arm over to slap at Dan, but all I did was brush his back. The feelings were real; Dan's back, the strangers hot breath on my nipples, his finger that was so lovingly caressing my clit, and the sexual electricity that jolted back and forth across my body. I was awake, no doubt.

I noted in a fleeting glance that the windows were still shut, and the door closed and locked. There was no way this stranger could have gotten in, but I wasn't dreaming. Or was I? I had to be, didn't I? I could never respond to anyone sexually except for Dan. I had to be dreaming.

But it was so real.

The stranger looked up and leaned over me. The pent-up passion and lust from this afternoon was a burning fire that was eating its way out of the place I had locked it. I reached up and pulled his head down to mine. Our lips met and our tongues danced together in a slow dance of love. His simple cologne captivated me and I tried to draw in deep breaths of it. My head swam with the effort and the swoon of the kiss. His hand slid softly down my mound and his fingers lightly played ay my wet folds. I moaned in need.

I glanced once again at Dan, the love of my life. I would never hurt him. I made vows that I would never break. But did those vows include dreams? Would he hold me responsible for dreaming that I was unfaithful? Would I have to tell him?

The strangers finger dipped into my hungry opening and teased my entrance. He traced the rim of the opening and took little dips into my very needy pussy. Lust swirled in me like a whirlpool and made me want to scream an animal cry of demand.

Should I try once more to wake Dan? If this wasn't a dream, I couldn't just let this man take me right here in our bed. I couldn't, could I? What if Dan woke up?

That thought made me try again. "Dan! Wake up!"

My words were clear and loud. They were sharp and vibrant. This wasn't a dream. Dan even stirred a little.

"Your husband won't wake." I turned to see the stranger smiling at me. His voice seemed distant, a whisper, but insistent. His finger stopped teasing and instead slid into my pussy until it was fully extended.

"Unnhhh!" His finger radiated heat and lust. I was on fire. I wanted to be fucked, badly. I wanted to be fucked, by him. My mind was torn. I loved Dan so much, but this stranger had me ready and wanting. If he was a dream, what would it hurt? If it wasn't a dream, how come Dan didn't wake up? Was I just trying to convince myself that I was dreaming so that I could make love to this dashing-looking man without feeling guilty?

The stranger stood up and began removing his clothes. I was partly excited and partly horrified. If it was a dream, I was going to get what I wanted, what I needed. If it wasn't, then surely as soon as this man climbed into bed, Dan would wake up. I was frozen with the conflict.

The stranger stripped down. His lean figure spoke of healthy eating and honest work. Maybe even honest play. When he stepped out of his pants, I saw his love tool. It was beautiful. I felt guilty at that, because I had only ever called Dan's penis beautiful. This was so much more so. It was sleek and strong. Its smooth texture called to me and I found myself reaching for it. The man smiled and kneeled one knee on the bed. I gripped his erection with a shaky hand. It was so warm and smoother than it looked. I squeezed it and stroked my hand in wonder up and down its length. I wanted so bad to be fucked by it. What was I thinking?

The man allowed me a few strokes before he stood back up and climbed onto the bed down by my feet. The bed moved. I wasn't dreaming, no way. But Dan didn't wake, either.

Should I make one more attempt to wake Dan? I opened my legs for the man as he crawled between them. My husband would not approve of me not trying. Sex was something reserved only for him and I had never broken that vow. The man's tongue touched my folds and then my clit.

"OOHHH!" I burst out. The passion had been locked away for too long and teased. My back arched and my whole body quivered on his tongue. Long groans came from me as his wet tongue teased my clit. My hands were in his hair, pulling, holding. This had to be a dream. I was moaning so loud the neighbors would be calling the cops. My hips bucked and I bit back several loud wails of lust. If it was a dream, I would have woken myself by now. No dream of any kind of such intensity lasted so long.

I didn't care.

If Dan was going to sleep through this, then that was fine. I was getting what I wanted and I wasn't going to take blame for it in the morning. I was shaking so hard that the bed was quivering. Dan stirred at that, but didn't wake. His tongue trailed up from my desperate vagina and worked up my flat belly. I wondered if my shaking was some kind of nervous convulsions. Was I sick? I've never shaken so hard or long. His tongue stopped at my breasts and he gently flicked at my nipples.

I was moaning so loud I was hurting my own ears. Dan grunted and stirred restlessly, but I was too aroused to worry about it. I realized that I was clutching theman's skin and trying to pull him up.

I had been through enough. I needed him in me.

This strange man, smelling of something mysterious but forgotten, moved up between my quivering legs. His manhood touched me and I thought my head would explode if he didn't hurry up and stick it in me.

"Mmm yes, please... yes, stick it in, oh please, yes..." I heard myself begging. Was this really me?

The handsome man with the dark slicked back hair and piercing eyes just smiled at me. His hips squirmed as his head toyed at my entrance.

I wanted to scream.

Without warning, his hips thrust slowly forward. I felt his head part my lips. I'm not sure whether it was his pushing or my vagina pulling, but his warm shaft stretched open my hungry pussy and slid inside.

"...yesssss..." It came out in a hiss. It felt so good.

His hips continued to tilt as he thrust his beautiful penis into me. Inch by inch, he slowly filled me up. I felt him everywhere inside and it felt wonderful. When he pushed harder and sank the last inch in, I thought my heart would stop. He held it there for a couple of wonderful minutes as I regained my breath. The feel of his penis in me was fantastic. When he started to slide out, I wanted to cry in loss. But he was just getting started. I felt like I was getting the perfect massage. The ache that was so insistent was being rubbed just the right way. He was the perfect size.

He began a very slow thrusting. In and out, in and out. His hard penis gently speared me over and over.

"OH... MY... GOSH..." Tears leaked out of my eyes at the wonderful sensation that radiated from my vagina. I looked over at Dan, sleeping while I was being fucked so perfectly next to him. If he had rolled over, I would have to tell him to go back to sleep; that I wasn't done. The bed rocked to our fucking for several minutes.

I felt the spiral of my orgasm start when the man leaned down and kissed me while still pumping. His mouth connected to mine, our tongues fucking each other's mouths in tempo with our lower bodies. The tingles started to build and radiate outward from my very happy vagina. He started thrusting just a little harder, deeper, and at just the right angle. He hit all my buttons and the constant stimulation drove me over the edge.

I pulled on his muscular butt as waves of blinding pleasure washed over me. I felt him flex under my hands and his shaft swell in me. I pulled on him as hard as I could as I exploded. My muscles contracted and released almost painfully, draining me of my ability to think. With great satisfaction, I felt the man release a flood of sperm deep in my womb. The wetness spread and filled me. The waves started to recede, leaving me hyper-sensitive, and he was still pumping into me. The wetness was hot and so satisfying. I could feel it leaking out of me already.

Dan grunted and rolled over onto his back. I tried to ignore it, but then he rolled and faced me, waking up. Suddenly I was grasping air. I looked around wildly as Dan leaned up on his elbow.

"Is everything okay, dear?" he asked, sleep still in his voice.

I drew my arms in on myself at the loss, the sudden emptiness of the man's disappearance. I realized my legs were wide open and the covers off. Sperm was gushing out of me and all I wanted to do was cry.

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