Indecent Proposal

"Well, well, calm down. Nothing terrible will happen," I said softly, stroking the young woman's head, whose heart was beating so hard I could feel it in my skin, and then I leaned down and pressed my lips firmly to her trembling ones.

"Well, imagine you're in Germany, in a sauna. You probably know that everyone there is naked, no matter what the sex. And here you and I are just going to take a shower together. I promise I won't pester you tonight. Do you hear me? I promise." I said firmly, and began to help the woman undress by unbuttoning her blouse.

Hearing my words and believing that the worst will not happen yet, she unzipped her skirt with a trembling hand, and a few minutes later she stood before me naked, covering her breasts with one hand and her pubes with the other one.

"Well done," I smiled, having already taken everything off myself, and, taking her by the elbow, pulled her into the shower cabin, which was quite large, one and a half by one and a half meters where I turned on the so-called rain shower head.

The proximity of my naked body with my erect penis obviously made her uneasy, but at the same time, she had to remember that she was bound by the contract and that she would have to yield to me for the sake of her husband, even if something inside her resisted. On the way to the cabin, she caught a glimpse of my dignity, and it seemed to make her tremble. I didn't have to be ashamed of my size; my cock was about twenty centimeters long and about the thickness of her wrist. I don't know her husband's size, but still don't think it is much larger. More likely even smaller.

Standing under the waterfall in the shower cabin, I began soaping her with the soft sponge, turning her back to me, and though she resisted a little at first, she relented, letting me soap her from behind. While I soaped her back and even her butt cheeks, she somehow put up with it, though she got the occasional chill, but when I turned her to face me and began soaping her breasts, she groaned and clutched my hands in hers, not letting me move.

"What is it, baby?" I asked softly, stopping the movements.

"Can I do it myself? Please!" there was a pleading sound in her voice, and I obeyed and handed her the sponge.

"But you still have to wash me. After all, that was the plan, I wash you, and you wash me. Do you agree?"

Marina nodded her head, turned away and began to soap herself from the front with relief, being forced by the back and ass to periodically touch my dick. Turning to face me was apparently over her head. She quickly finished soaping and rinsed everything off herself, twirling from side to side under the rain shower jets.

"Now it's my turn," I said as I handed her the soapy sponge and turned my back.

I don't think Marina hadn't ever showered with her husband, so, in principle, there shouldn't have been anything too much for her to do, so she rather deftly soaped my back, ass, and legs, after which I turned to face her just as she was standing, leaning over and finishing soaping my calves. And my straining cock appeared close to the young woman's eyes in all its glory. She straightened up abruptly and, trying not to look down, began soaping my chest, while I watched her with interest. After soaping my chest, arms and stomach, she had to move on to my horny flesh, and then I stopped her:

"Not with the sponge! Just with your hands."

Trembling even more, the young woman, taking more foam in her right hand, began to soap my dick, hardly closing her fingers on its shaft. As she continued, tightly gripping the shaft and went over the head, my knees trembled, and I exhaled. "More."

She ran her soapy hand over the head again... and again... and then she quickly ducked her hand under my dick, soaping my scrotum, and straightened up, saying with relief, "That's all!"

I paused, and then reluctantly said, "I guess you're right," whereupon I quickly rinsed myself under the jets, cut off the water, and slid the shower cabin doors open and was the first to get out.

When we dried off and left the bathroom, Marina hurriedly dived under the covers without even removing the towel folded like a turban from her head, and when I followed her, she squeaked in a trembling voice, "You promised!"

"I am a man of my word. We'll just sleep in the same bed, I won't even touch you," and then I turned my back to her and calmed down, pretending to fall asleep.

Marina tossed and turned for a long time, feeling the strange man next to her at arm's length. But after about half an hour, she couldn't take it anymore and slowly fell asleep. Later, I fell asleep, too.

In the morning I got up first and brought in a tray with 'breakfast in bed', already prepared by the cook. Nothing special: scrambled eggs, Viennese sausages, cheese and lettuce, black coffee, and a glass of orange juice.

"Sleepyhead, it's time to wake up," I called affectionately, kissing her on the cheek.

My words made the girl wake up and seem to remember everything that had happened the day before, and it made her blush, but the smell of coffee whetted her appetite, and she first drank the juice, and then feverishly pounced on the food. Her appetite seemed to be brutal, a result of the stress.

That's about how those two weeks went. We spent all our off-duty time together, except for her visits home to talk to her husband. And on weekends I arranged excursions to nearby sights. Marina, she said, had never traveled or walked so much before. At the end of the day, we would come round to restaurants, bowling, disco clubs, and other places of entertainment, so that by the nightfall she was physically and emotionally exhausted and would quickly fall asleep in the bed that she was forced to share with me. Before going to bed we often showered together. Marina was no longer so obviously embarrassed by washing my genitals, and she even let me do her the courtesy in return, but I did not allow any encroachment on her, and gradually it became a routine activity as well.

And Marina gradually got used to sleeping with me, being assured that it was safe for her morality, though sometimes she woke up in my arms in the morning, feeling my morning erection. At the same time, often she herself would roll over to me at night and snuggle up, apparently forgetting herself in her sleep. But I held myself in check, and she gradually relaxed, no longer expecting a nasty trick.

So Friday came, the day of her flight to Berlin.

***

Marina

Sleeping with another man in the same bed is still an ordeal. First of all, the joint shower already caused excitement and tension in my body, plus my dreams were mostly erotic, causing internal languor, with which I had to fight. Nevertheless, the owner of the house knew how to control himself, and everything somehow worked out.

Therefore, I went on my second flight to Berlin with a light heart: my sinning had not yet taken place, and I secretly hoped that everything would somehow resolve itself, and that I would be able to remain faithful to my husband. But my belief was irrational, for I knew that it would not last forever.

When I met my husband, I burst into tears of relief, seeing his refreshed appearance and the obvious gain of strength. This week we walked a lot farther, went to Tiergarten, the Potsdamer Platz Theater, the Brandenburg Gate, and even sat in the Prater, Berlin's oldest biergarten, drinking beer under age-old chestnut trees. It had been brewed there since 1837, and had sausages, pretzel buns, and potato salad as snacks.

Sergey had already improved in health so we stumbled into my room and recalled our youth, giving ourselves to each other with a fervor we had forgotten. It was something I had been missing lately, because everything that had been going on in Mikhail's mansion had kept me in a constant state of intense arousal, which, being unsatisfied, sometimes resulted in a pulling pain in the groin area. And the joy of sex with my beloved was encouraging and gave me hope that everything would somehow work out, and most importantly, that we would be together. Sex always brought us closer together, I had an orgasm every time, and I fell in love with my man even more intensely.

That night, which was the last one before I left for home, I cried in my hotel room, and my tears were a mixture of joy at the apparent recovery of the man I loved, and bitterness at the price I would have to pay for it.

When I arrived back at Mikhail's mansion, I didn't see him. Some business in the holding company demanded his departure, and Glafira said that he was not expected back until tomorrow, or even the day after tomorrow. So, I had a quiet dinner, watched TV, and went to bed, reminiscing about the week with my husband. I fell asleep imperceptibly imagining the details of our last night...

The dream I had was so real. I could feel with the skin of my back my husband pressed against me, his left hand slipped under me and gently squeezing my breast, rubbing my nipple, while his right one stroked my tummy, periodically going up to my breast and caressing it as well.

Suddenly the right hand moved from my breasts down to my already wet pussy and began to play with my lips and clit. The simultaneous burning kisses on my neck and ears added passion. I let out a deep moan as I reveled in my lover's caresses. I wasn't wearing a nightie, and I didn't even remember when I'd taken it off. I wasn't aware of anything at all, reveling in the unity of passion with my beloved.

"Come on, honey, come on... I want you..." I moaned hoarsely, and finally, the head of his hard as a stone cock touched the entrance to my innermost place...

"Ohhh..." escaped from me as the love rod began to slowly slide inside, decisively pushing the walls of my hospitable, well-moistened vagina. For a moment it seemed to me that Sergey was especially big in this place today, and the delightful fullness made butterflies' flutter through my body.

Over several successive thrusts, the cock finally entered fully, reaching the bottom of my womb and touching something inside, making my whole body feel like it was electrocuted, and I moaned loudly again:

"Yes... yes... exactly, my love... you're so... big... and strong... I missed you..." Heavy breathing interspersed with groans escaped from my chest along with incoherent words, while his hands kept kneading my breasts, twitching and twisting my nipples...

At that moment, he began a steady progressive motion inside me, and I began to impatiently thrust myself toward him, trying to be in touch as tightly as possible with my lover.

His finger touched my clit and began to gently rub it in a way that stars lit up my eyes, and I mumbled frantically:

"Yes... yes... more... deeper... Yes, sooo... aaaahhh..."

Gradually, in the depths of my vagina, heat began to build up, flowing in from everywhere, sending sparks up my nerves and tingling all over my body. Hot male breath in my ear, strong arms and a strong torso led me to the real heights of pleasure, and I just melted in his hands like ice cream in hot morning coffee. There was a pleasant tension all over my body, similar to a faint tickle. It was very pleasant, languid, warm, and erotic.

It made me skewer myself on the cock even more actively, and my husband probably sensed my approach and began to move even more vigorously and powerfully. And then the hearth inside me, having grown to gigantic size, suddenly exploded with the most powerful dynamite, a convulsion ran through my body, and I twitched several times, thrusting deeply on the cock. My vaginal muscles began to contract violently, spasming around the cock and making it swell up even more and splash out inside in several hot jets. My eyes closed, everything throbbed, and waves of heat rolled through my body, my toes clenched and unclenched, and every cell screamed with pleasure...

I was lying in nirvana, feeling my husband's cock spasming inside me, literally firing my vaginal walls with his hot semen, and I even momentarily regretted that I was taking the pill, as the desire to conceive a new member of the family was so strong at that moment. I was bathed in the warmth of my husband's embrace, and I had no strength, not only to talk, but even to think about anything specific... My thoughts flowed unhurriedly and relaxed, although some worm did not allow me to relax completely, bothering me.

"I told you I would do everything I could to make these weeks seem less awful to you."

Mikhail's voice behind, who was hugging me, hit me over the head. There was a ringing in my ears, and my mouth went dry.

This was no dream! This is not a husband!! There's another man's cock deflating in my pussy right now!!!

***

"Did you like it?" He asked as he came out of me.

It was like if a frost had gripped me. I couldn't get a word out and I couldn't move. My mind was a jumble of thoughts: "how?" and "why?" and "where is Sergey?" Gradually, my mind began to clear, and what seemed like a dream began to be reality. Tears suddenly gushed from my eyes as the thought struck me: "Well, that's it. I cheated! But I didn't know. I couldn't have known. He wasn't supposed to come until tomorrow!"

"H-h-how did you... ended up here?" I managed to mumble through my tears.

"I flew in at night, and here you are lying, so tempting. So I caressed you, and took off your nightgown. By the way you didn't even resist."

"But... you promised..."

"When?"

"When you went to bed with me, that you wouldn't touch me," I said doomily, choking on tears.

"That was last time you were here, and I made no promises this time. And you know it was bound to happen sometime, so no complaints accepted. Tell me, did you like it?"

I said nothing, but I had to admit to myself that I hadn't had such crazy sex with my husband in a long time. Except at the beginning of our married life. And yet, my resentment burned; it would be better if he had told me directly what he wanted, than to do it thievingly, under the guise of a husband.

At that moment, I did not understand that Mikhail had no idea about what was going on in my head, about the erotic dream, and he was sure that he was the one who had inflamed me with his skill. I turned away from him and pretended to be asleep.

Mikhail sighed, put his arm around me, and gradually fell asleep, too.

I lay awake for a long time, the scenes of the recent intercourse were running through my head against my will, but no matter how hard I tried to disgust myself with what had happened, I couldn't. The only thing I decided was to try not to give away my excitement next time, and to give my body to him without obvious emotion. With these thoughts I fell asleep.

In the morning, I was awakened by a demanding kiss, and Mikhail began to insistently caress me, trying again to arouse the same emotions as yesterday. But I tried hard not to give in, and even though my body let me down as my vagina was wet and my breathing became heavy, and even with groans, I tried not to move, while Mikhail moved his cock assertively inside me.

I didn't have an orgasm this time, whether it was my involuntary protest in response to the violence, as I understood this, or whether I just wasn't in the mood, but when Mikhail came inside me, I hurried to the shower, to my landlord's displeasure, to wash off the traces of my sin.

"Yeah, it looks like I still need to work on you," he said as I came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a big towel. I didn't say anything and started to get ready for work.

***

Sergey

Six months have passed since I was discharged from the Charité clinic. It seems to be gone for good, no recurrence. I can't even imagine how I have survived all this. If it hadn't been for Marina, I don't think I would have survived. She was always there, she often came to see me and kept me optimistic. Although, according to Dr. Stintzing, who immediately promised a complete cure, there was nothing special. Still, the diagnosis seemed serious enough.

Marina's arrivals always lifted my spirits and gave me hope for a speedy recovery. We had a wonderful time together. But for the past three months something had been eating away at her, and she had a sad expression on her face, a kind of undercurrent of... guilt or something? I always attributed this to the fact that she felt sorry for me, being healthy herself, and tried my best to heal as quickly as possible to relieve her of this healthy person's guilt complex.

Most importantly, in the last weeks of treatment, and even more so after discharge, I had so much energy that our intimate relations reached a new level, became probably even cooler than when we started our family life. Marina always had an orgasm or two, and she looked at me with such love and tenderness that my heart ached. Sometimes she even cried out of sheer emotion, but she always said with a smile that it was from happiness.

About a month ago we finally decided to make a family, and Marina stopped taking the pills. Before, Dmitriy Anatolievich insisted that we take birth control, since the disease could damage the genome of the unborn child, but now he did not have even the slightest doubt that everything was okay, and we were happy to work on conception.

I must say that after my discharge Marina gradually thawed out, and there were no more of those mood swings that had distinguished her before. Apparently, my illness was hard for her.

"Sergey, are you coming to eat?" I heard my beloved's voice from the kitchen, where for quite a long time the breathtaking smell of supper came from, which she, as usual, managed to cook after work.

"I'm coming," I shouted back, and then my phone rang, announcing the arrival of a text message. Before I left the room, I decided to see what was on it.

Do you know everything about your wife? And who was she living with when you were sick?

I wonder who could this nonsense be coming from? The phone number was unfamiliar, and when I tried to call back, the machine said there is no such number. I decided it was some kind of spam and closed the message.

On the menu for today was Chicken Kiev cutlets with rice. In general, my wife is an awesome cook. It seems like a simple dish, but it's extremely delicious, and just the way I like it.

While I was eating, Marina was looking at me with her hand under her chin and smiling.

"And why don't you eat?" I wondered.

"I already grabbed some after work. You know that after six I try not to eat, God forbid to spoil the figure. You'll fall out of love."

At this, her eyes showed sadness, and I hurried to reassure her: "I'll never fall out of love with you, you're the best woman I've ever met."

"Well, well, don't say that; life is like that, anything can happen," and on her face there was that subtle expression that I sometimes managed to spy in the last months of my treatment. It evaporated right away, though, and I wasn't even sure that I'd really seen something.

That evening, as they say, something got into me, and as soon as we went to bed, I tried to prove to my beloved how wrong she was, and that she was the only one for me, the most desirable and the dearest.

After Marina's second orgasm, I finally allowed myself to cum, and there was so much semen that it seemed about to overflow the bowl, but, oddly enough, all of it, apparently, was absorbed, since there was no flood.

Now that we set out to have children, Marina did not wash herself after sex, but tried to lie down so that my entire load stayed inside her as long as possible. So, after catching our breath, we pressed against each other and gradually went into the gardens of Morpheus...

The next day at work I again received a text message from an unfamiliar number, now a different one, but the text was just as strange and intriguing: