It's Just a Game!

Chapter Five - A Little Loving

Soon Trent began pressing me to start our game of teasing again. I told him that I was happy the way things were, but he insisted that the game made it so much more intense. I couldn't disagree, but I worried about what might happen next time he didn't wake up. I realized then that my sexting with Dad kept me aroused, but Trent had no such stimulus. I finally acquiesced.

We got a sitter for the baby and went to dinner. We hadn't really made plans, other than that we were going to "do it". After dinner, instead of going to a bar somewhere, we stayed at the restaurant and drank wine at our table. As the evening wore on we began chatting up our waitress, Marsha, a wonderfully attractive girl in her early twenties.

Trent suggested that she come over after work for a nightcap. I shot him a terse look, but then I realized that he was suggesting she was the victim. I smiled and encouraged her to accept. She did, but she said it would be for just one drink, as she had had a long day.

"Great," Trent exclaimed, and we went to wait for her in the parking lot.

"How's this going to work?" I asked Trent.

"Just see where it goes." He said

Then I got the impression that maybe he thought he was going to get lucky too. "Are you expecting to get a piece of her too?"

"The thought hadn't crossed my mind." He replied.

She followed us home and we were soon drinking and chatting in our living room. Right on cue Trent dropped off to sleep in his lazy-boy. Marsha and I ignored him and talked girl talk until we were both very comfortable with one-another.

I walked into the kitchen and she followed. I placed my drink on the counter, took a seat at the table and turned to see Marsha as she approached and stared down at me from her stance, not unlike a queen commanding her subject. She was so close that I could feel her warm breath on my face, heating my skin like a hairdryer. I wanted to touch her. Really touch her. I thought about reaching out and resting my palm on Marsha's breast, but opted to silently admire the slope of her chest and the curve of her tiny waist.

"I'm attracted to you, Megan." Marsha whispered, reaching her hand to the back of my head to remove the clip that held my hair back. Marsha's presence was intoxicating. I felt a drop of moisture drip onto the fabric of my panties. Never had I felt so ripe for someone's touch.

"I'm attracted to you, too." I replied dreamily.

Is this really happening? I couldn't help musing. I felt my heart thump rapidly behind my rib cage, like a prisoner pounding for release from a confined cell. I was feeling like a timid schoolgirl, but I really did want to explore this situation thoroughly. I begged myself to make a move, to let this bewitching woman know I was hot and ready. I was hard-pressed to summon up the courage to seduce her. Luckily, the need for improvisation wasn't required on my part.

Marsha reached for me slowly. Her well-manicured fingernails glided on my shoulder through the delicate silk. Goosebumps quickly formed in the trail of her touch. I licked my lips and closed my eyes, relishing the sweet softness that only a woman's fingers could offer. I concentrated on the gentle glide of Marsha's left hand as it trailed up to my neck and slowly down my chest. Then I felt the eager fingers caress the delicate lace of my bra at the top of my breasts, I was unable to restrain my desire. I had to touch Marsha. Gazing through slightly-parted eyelids, I placed both hands on Marsha's shoulders, wanting to explore the safer areas of her body.

I massaged the firm flesh of Marsha's shoulders with my thumbs, becoming acquainted with a woman's body in a sexual manner. Why had I never noticed how soft-yet so strong-a woman's skin is? How could I have looked at attractive women everyday of my life and not seen them as I was now seeing Marsha? The thought that my about-to-be lover and I were experiencing identical explorations made my knees weak. She is seeing me the same way I am seeing her. I mused to myself, so unlike sex with a guy.

I moved my hands downward, palming the full weight of my partner's breasts. Marsha's quick intake of breath at the possessive action made me so hot I thought my clitoris would burst with the sudden rush of blood. I prodded and squeezed Marsha's fleshy globes, as if touching breasts for the first time in my life. Marsha mirrored my actions and our eyes locked.

Without breaking the electric current which flowed between our two sets of eager eyes, Marsha began to unbutton my blouse. When I was left leaning against the table, clad only in my white lacy bra, Marsha leaned back to study me. My flesh felt cold and lonely where Marsha's knowing hands were caressing me moments before, and I longed for more contact.

I reached out and grabbed Marsha's satin lapels and pulled her into me. Marsha gasped at the action, but followed with a wicked smile. She arched her neck to kiss the soft swells of my breast, grazing her tongue along the delicate fabric which encased them. With Marsha's concentration solely on my chest, I was able to reach down and run my fingers along the firm softness of her neck.

We simply caressed each other for a long while, taking the time to acquaint ourselves with the other's touch. Marsha paused from her exploration of my chest long enough to reach back and unclasp my bra, letting the heavy weight of my breasts fall free. My skin tingled where my lover's fingers glided across the skin, and when I felt the wet heat of Marsha's mouth on my nipple, I moaned softly. I felt the pink nodule peak into a rigid spike as Marsha's tongue flicked the sensitive flesh back and forth. I tangled the fingers of my left hand further into her heavenly tresses as my right focused on the removal of her tight blazer. When I finally unfastened the top button, it was as if I could not remove the rest fast enough. I wanted to see the bronzed beauty of this sexy woman's body.

When Marsha's top finally slid off her form and onto the floor, I opened my eyes to drink in the sight of her black satin bra. She was as dark and sleek as I was fair and soft. I reached down to Marsha's left breast and pulled the nipple out through the top of the bra. Her skin was flawless. I longed to suckle the ripe peak, but Marsha's body language was making it clear that I was not the one orchestrating the lovemaking. When she felt my head aim towards her own chest, Marsha moved herself away, teasing me mercilessly.

"Don't move." Marsha commanded sternly, but with tenderness in her voice. "I want to please you first."

I surrendered to Marsha, as if finally receiving permission to just lay back and enjoy the ride. The cheeks of my ass clenched tightly as Marsha's hot breath brushed my knees and thighs. Without awareness of my own moves, I gently guided Marsha's head slowly between my legs. I felt my pussy lather up as Marsha's breath came closer and closer to my core, maddeningly slow.

Marsha's commanding hands clasped the hem of my silk skirt and began to inch it slowly upward. As the subservient I arched my back and raised my hips slightly off the edge of the table to facilitate the undressing. I smiled at Marsha's sudden intake of breath when she saw the white lacy garter belt holding up my tan hose. I always made sure I wore the sexiest undergarments I could find. It made me feel sensuous. I was especially pleased that my lover was appreciating the delicate lace as well.

"You are so beautiful." Marsha murmured as she leaned in to sprinkle wispy butterfly kisses on my inner thighs. I lay back against the cold table and leaned into the pleasure that was slowly overtaking me. I arched my pelvis towards Marsha's face, eager to feel her tongue inside my most intimate folds. But Marsha wanted to prolong the seduction. She nuzzled my buttocks and thighs with her nose, alternately licking the soft skin from my knees to my ass. After what seemed like hours, she ran her index finger under the elastic band of my G-string, and proceeded to pull the flimsy material down the length of my legs.

"Oh, God....." I moaned when I felt the first contact of Marsha's tongue against my pussy. The soft fierceness of her mouth suckling my lips and clit was almost more than I could take. I could not remember ever feeling pleasure with such intensity. At first I thought I would climax just seconds after Marsha's first slow and thorough lick, but then I relaxed a bit, realizing I was just experiencing the tip of the iceberg. My hips seemed to melt into the table as I wound my fingers through Marsha's hair once more, easing the busy mouth further into my cunt, as if to swallow the woman whole.

A weak tingling wave swirled around my pelvis like a hurricane, gathering strength before reaching throughout the rest of me, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I struggled to relax my thighs and not tighten them around Marsha's head, suffocating her as she worked.

Marsha ate me like a gourmet, enjoying every flavor, every fold of my pink pussy. The strokes of her tongue varied, some long and intense, like painting a fence, some short and precise. It was as if Marsha could read my mind, knowing exactly what I liked the most, knowing when to go faster, knowing when to slow down. My hips began to beat with my own internal rhythm, pumping up and down, taking Marsha's occupied tongue with me.

After Marsha's tongue memorized every square inch of my silken folds, she focused her attention on the tight bud of my clitoris. She sucked it like a straw, drawing her head away from my center, stretching my clit with her. The tiny bud seemed to expand in Marsha's mouth, filling it with my swollen heat. Marsha's face was buried inside my core as I gave birth to the first slight tremors of my orgasm. My back arched and lifted my hips inches off the table as I began to slowly, slowly go over the edge.

"Oh God," I gasped, writhing back and forth around Marsha's busy mouth, "Oh Jesus!" My insides expanded and burst into flames as the intense tidal wave of blood gushed into my cunt, making me see stars. My soul seemed to leave my body as I shook with the violent climax, conquering my body like a fearless warrior. I wasn't sure how long my orgasm had possessed my body, mind, and soul. I felt like I had traveled to the moon and back in a few spastic moments. My muscles were conditioned from the orgasm, but not ready to relax. 'No,' I mused, 'I don't want this to be over yet.'

As Marsha sat back, licking my juices off of her pouting lips, I slid off the table and faced the woman who had just given me a taste of heaven. I guided Marsha's streamlined form into a reclining pose on the kitchen floor, dying to taste her. I wasted no time raising the woman's tight skirt above her hips, making her vagina more accessible to my starving lips. After a hasty removal of her stockings, I placed my hands gently on the inside of her thighs. Our eyes locked once more as I slowly and seductively spread Marsha's legs apart. Our connection was like lightning, strong and direct, each wanting to fully drink in the other's essence.

I was like a child in a candy shop. I was trembling with anticipation as I kissed the inside of Marsha's thighs, wanting only to feel the heat of the woman's body on my lips. Marsha lay perfectly still during my seduction of her skin, gasping slightly when the first caresses of my breath blew through her silken mound like a soft wind. I wanted to prolong the kisses as long as possible, but I was so anxious to taste Marsha's juices I lingered only moments.

Holding the fabric of Marsha's black panties to the side, I dove into her center. The smells, the taste, the warmth were intoxicating to me. I wanted to bury myself inside the enticing folds, becoming one with my glorious lover. The sweet nectars of Marsha's cunt dripped onto my lips like an overripe apricot. I savored the tangy lotion of my lover and I licked her pussy passionately. My tongue became an autonomous entity, seeming to disconnect itself from my body as it thrust itself in and out of the moist cavern.

Marsha rolled her head from side to side, moaning, as she allowed the movement of her hips to match the rhythmic dance of my tongue. She peered down at me as I lay between her legs, drinking in the spicy moisture of her essence.

"Oh, I...I." Marsha cried, grabbing my ears. Our souls were one, each melting into the other in the creation of perfect passion.

And then she lost it. Marsha's orgasm was more violent than mine had been. It shook her body like a tornado pulling a barn door from its hinges. Her spinal cord seemed to gel and her knees trembled as my sucking sent her into a blind fury of intense physical joy. Marsha cried out to the ceiling, letting the waves roll through her body, first one, and then another. By the time the storm in her subsided, she lay deliriously dreamy with me resting on top of her.

Time stood still at that moment. We lay entwined in the kitchen, aware of only each other, and the persistent thumping of our hearts. I wasn't sure how long we lay together, it wasn't clear to me if I fell asleep or simply lost time, but when I regained composure, I realized that Marsha was no where to be seen.

Was this a dream? I wondered. Looking down at my silk skirt gathered around my waist, I put that thought away. I slowly got to my knees and lifted myself into a standing position, grabbing the table to support my still wobbly frame. The radio hummed a beautifully sad jazz tune which made me momentarily long for the woman who was inside me a little while earlier. But contentment won me over.

Just as I had resigned myself, I heard a low moaning sound coming from the living room. I peered around the corner and saw Marsha bent over Trent's body, sucking his penis. Jealousy surged through me.

I could feel the perspiration flowing freely on my body. Below, I could feel my hotly throbbing vagina softly tingling, and I pressed my pelvis out against the doorframe and began rubbing it against the edge of the door. But the sensation was not enough. The thought of satisfying myself while Marsha was doing this to my husband, just a few feet away crossed my mind. He had said that he didn't want this from her, but here they were. Had they concocted this entire episode just so they could be together?

As though in a dream, my hands began to massage my breasts, trapping the warmly trembling nipples beneath my fingers and kneading and pulling them. My left hand began to slide slowly along my quivering body, down my stomach to rest on my throbbing clitoris. God, it felt good! I began to rub back and forth, and up and down over the tender bud. I could feel the wetness trickle warmly down the insides of my thighs, flowing freely from my inflamed pussy.

The moaning from within the living room was almost incoherent now as Marsha's head bobbed hotly above my husband in wild throes of pleasure.

For the first time I watched as my husband was pleasured by another woman, the salacious thought rippled through my head, and as she sucked Trent, I masturbated, thinking it should be me with Trent, knowing what it was like to have him. The dual sensations of jealousy and sexual agitation spurred a tremendous exhilaration in me.

I moved my feet farther apart on the ground and pressed my fingers harder, the middle finger pressing teasingly into the moist open slit, and I could feel the vaginal passage expanding.

The obscene thought struck me that perhaps Trent knew what I was up to, and I felt the dreadful urge to run into the living room and throw myself onto the embraced bodies a few feet away and fuck with them.

The fire burned more intensely, demanding more to feed its lewd hunger. I inserted another finger up inside my vagina and began squirming back and forth as though they were the wild plunging of my husband's warmly throbbing prick.

The sucking sound of the lovers in the living room became louder, and I thrust my fingers more desperately into the moistness of my vagina in time to the maddening rhythm of the couple sucking nearby.

The thought that, no, this was horrible, I should stop them, again floated through my consciousness. It had been this that I had suggested earlier to Trent, but he had denied any desire to have Marsha. Suddenly, a lewd delight coursed through me that Marsha was doing to Trent what she had just done to me, and I began stroking my fingers even harder into my moistly flowering vagina.

"Yes, oh yes!" Trent panted.

I could see Trent's glistening penis ramming its way into Marsha's hotly sucking mouth, sinking through the softly waving lips like a greased telephone pole.

I realized that this was a moment to be shared with my lover and my husband, so I strutted into the living room. I realized that Trent deserved his too. I knelt beside Marsha and leaned over to share my husband's cock with my lover.

After Marsha had gone, Trent and I made long languorous love as we recalled the wonderful events of the evening. Trent had quietly watched as Marsha and I made love in the kitchen. He said it was the most intense thing he had ever seen.

I asked if he liked the blow job she had given him.

"Oh, baby, that was her idea." He said pleading his case.

I laughed and told him, "It's alright baby, you deserved a little loving."

"A little loving?"

"Well, maybe we can work up to something more, if you think you can handle it." I said, teasingly.

Chapter Six - Who's Your Daddy

Over the next few weeks we fantasized about Marsha and had some real great sex. Trent started wondering if maybe we should have another child and I kept up my sexting with Dad. My love life was real good.

A few weeks went by and Trent asked me if I wanted another child. I had been thinking of it since he had brought it up earlier. I told him I thought it might be nice to have another child.

"It's settled then, we'll start tonight!" He exclaimed.

Two months later we were still trying. I recalled how Trent was unable to impregnate me the first time and wondered if he was able to have children at all. I also recalled how he had reacted when I asked him to get checked.

After masturbating with Dad one day, I mentioned that we were trying to get pregnant and without thinking I mentioned that Trent hadn't impregnated me the first time, and probably wouldn't this time.

"Who's the father of your child?" he typed.

Oh shit, I thought, now I've done it. I thought of what to say, but the long pause raised Dad's suspicions.

"Is the child mine?" He typed.

My mind reeled. I felt a cold sweat on my brow, and my thumbs trembled as they hovered above the keypad. I wanted to deny the truth, but I typed "Yes." My heart pounded in my chest, every sinew of my being tensed as my thumb slowly pressed send.

The silence was deafening, the phone rested in my sweaty palm, but no response came. Time seemed to stop, was he mad? Glad? Or had he passed out?

Suddenly the phone chirped, a message had been received: "Oh Megan." Was all it said.

Oh Megan. I repeated to myself, over and over again. I had done it now the cat was out of the bag. Suddenly a grotesque thought occurred to me; Trent still didn't know, and I didn't want him to.

I typed quickly, "Dad, Trent doesn't know, and we mustn't tell him."

"I understand, but won't he figure it out eventually? He's bound to wonder if he can't make you pregnant." Dad typed.

He was right. What were we to do?

When my husband and I had sex that night, I couldn't help but think of it as a form of penance, making up for the sins I had committed. But even though I knew I should feel more regret, a deeper sense of betrayal and guilt, as strange as it may seem, I didn't. The truth is, not only did I enjoy what I was doing with my Dad, but I also felt a greater bond with him, as a result. But I also felt no less love or devotion for Trent. This is how I excused my actions, and the more often I repeated it, the more I came to believe it.