My Guilty Conscience

He doesn't shrink as I suppose he will, but stays remarkably hard for yet another half hour, continuing to pound away inside of a pleasure filled pussy that has been stretched to the absolute max.

After his second climax he finally shrinks and slips out of me. We are both panting. We are both on cloud nine.

"Best damn sex I ever had," he manages as we slump to the floor with our sweat soaked backs to the wall.

I playfully tweak his nose. "You're supposed to call it lovemaking, not sex," I protest with mock indignation.

He kisses me hard, then looks into my big brown eyes. His smile is dazzling and warm.

"I've never quite met another woman like you. Normally I'm like, 'let me just do it and move on to the next girl,' but with you it's so damn different."

"How different," I said, feeling excited, special and intrigued.

"Oh, I don't know," he added. "Almost like I wanna fly to Paris with you tonight, then carry you home to mothers in the morning."

"That's crazy," I protested. "You don't even know anything about me."

"What are you talking about? We met and chatted all day long at the company picnic. And I've been emailing and phoning you back and forth for weeks, and now we've shared the greatest sex, er I mean lovemaking of my entire life. You're funny, smart, charming and sooooo damn sexy in so many ways. You also come across as being very articulate, and so interesting and easy to talk to. A great conversationalist, no question."

"You certainly know how to put a girl up on a pedestal, but I best be going. I'll just be using your shower first."

He smiled again, and again he was dazzling. "Then I guess I'll be using it with you."

"No," I insisted, knowing that Samuel always expected me back from the gym in two to three hours. A half hour each way to and from Derricks, plus the hour and a half for sex and a shower, not to mention I always carry back pizza with me on Saturdays for dinner after the gym, and I was definitely cutting it close. I didn't want Samuel to get suspicious by me staying any longer.

He suddenly frowned. "You're a strange one, that's for sure."

"Why am I strange?"

"Most women, after I've made out with them, they try to prolong the visit, and chat endlessly about when we're going to meet again, and if we are going to start going steady, or if we can start thinking about long term relationships, even marriage, but with you, it's almost like you are desperate to leave. You don't seem like them at all, which is strange, because you were really into our sex session today, so much so that it made me wonder if that was the only sex you've had in years."

"You don't want to know."

"Do tell."

"Nothing to tell, except I have to use your shower quickly then run."

He grabbed my arm.

"Spend the day with me Sally, and then stay the night," he begged.

"It's not possible," I said, turning in an attempt to run up stairs to the shower

"Why not?" he said, spinning me back around, then planting a hot, moist kiss onto my enraptured lips. It took him thirty seconds to pry free, but when he did, he looked me in my face, his gaze brimming over with adoration and admiration.

"You told me you work Monday to Friday, but it's Saturday," he reminded me. "You could stay the day if you really wanted to."

"I have to run, dammit," I shouted, getting angry. Samuel was meticulous when it came to analysing each and every detail. If the pieces didn't fit, like me being late from the gym, for example, then he would surely sniff me out.

I scampered up his steps and found a bathroom on my own, jumping into the shower and rinsing off sweat, his scent, and female ejaculate.

I then jumped out of the porcelain glassed encased enclosure, and began to pat dry my body with a large towel. As I bent over to dry off my calves and ankles, I suddenly heard him sneaking up from behind me, his thick white cock managing to stealthily press under my black bum cheeks until my pussy once again became alive with a wondrous pumping in and out.

I was amazed that he was as hard as a damn iron pipe again. Hadn't he climaxed twice already? How was it possible for him to be so damn hard still?

I sighed at the heavenly, unexpected intrusions, my body shivering as orgasm number four began to build within me.

I shivered with delight, the room still hot and steamy from my cleansing shower, only I would need to be cleansed again.

His mouth found my shoulder and neck as I straightened up part way.

My eyes widened and glazed over.

The pleasure was just as crisp and clear to my senses as it had been downstairs.

My mind was alive with excitement.

His hands once again wrapped themselves around my sides, and I knew instinctively where they were headed, and that was to my gigantic breasts.

His fingers found them, and mercilessly played with my nipples, keeping my body statuesque for his pumping cock as orgasm number four kept the ecstasy flowing like a river through my quivering black flesh. He certainly was good at what he did, perhaps too good? Did I really turn him on that much that he had found it so damn hard to simply say goodbye till next Saturday?

I breathed extra heavy for the next fifteen minutes until I felt his squirts reach deep inside of me. Again? Taking chances on knocking me up again? Still, it was all too sweet for me to complain about it now.

I had received my slice of heaven and now it was time to rush back home for pizza family night. If memory served, my husband had rented a cartoon mermaid movie for the occasion.

I hopped back into the shower for yet another couple of minutes, careful to wipe out all the oozing cum from between my damn legs. Then I whispered a prayer to the almighty that his shooting cum hadn't done the trick.

I whipped on my clothes and rushed down the stairs.

I brushed past him as I dashed out of his large double mahogany doors.

"When will I see you again?" he pleaded, his eyes like some lovesick puppy dog's eyes.

"Next Saturday."

"Why not sooner?" he begged. "Are we only going to meet Saturdays?"

"I have a hectic Monday to Friday work schedule," I lied.

I snapped my fingers instinctively as I realized I had forgotten to take my up purse. I turned around, skipped back past his front wooden doors, and snatched my purse from off the chair where I had left it. Then I kissed him on the cheek as I passed him again on the way back into the hall.

"I'll call you later tonight if I get the chance," I blurted out.

His frown was immediate, and as I raised my arm so I could hit the elevator 'down' button, I could tell my words had been like daggers plunged into his smitten heart.

Derrick eyed me suspiciously. He had finally found me, the woman of his dreams, and I was talking about 'maybe' calling him 'if' I had the chance? I could tell he was confused. What the hell did that mean?

He snatched my arm just as my index finger was mere inches from pressing the elevator button.

"You're not married, are you?" he asked grimly, his face suddenly whiter than a sheet.

"Of course not," I lied.

"I warned you after the picnic when we started chatting back and forth by phone and in emails that I would never date a married woman. I told you up front I was tired of all the one night stands. I was quite explicit when I explained I was looking to find a long term relationship leading to marriage. I just turned forty and I'd like to start a family before I get much older. You do remember me saying that, don't you?"

"I do, and I agree with your sentiments completely. What makes you think I'm married?"

"You're saying you are only able to get away to meet me on Saturday? You're saying you might call me if you get the chance? What does that mean? That you have a husband keeping tabs on you? Watching what you do?"

"Definitely no husband," I again lied. "Not now and not ever before. As for the future? Always the chance with a hunk like you," I said mischievously.

He smiled, believing every word passing through my thick, pink painted, sexy lying lips. Men were so gullible. Still, it worried me that he was beginning to sniff me out after only our first date. Sooner or later he might ask for my home phone as opposed to just my cell phone, or if he could perhaps come over to my place as opposed to always using his place. Some guys wanted to see where you lived, to give them a feel through the décor of what kind of a woman you actually were. Modern? Old fashioned? Neat? Unkempt? Well off? Poor? Fashionable? A pack rat?

I kissed him hard on the mouth and he let go of my arm. Then I pressed the button, loathing the fact that an awkward moment or two was bound to transpire before the elevator finally arrived.

XXX

I pulled into the driveway then glared at myself in the rear view mirror.

"Shit."

My lipstick needed touching up, my hair was a mess and my mascara was running.

I took a minute to repair my mascara and my lipstick and then I combed and teased my curls back into perfection. I didn't worry about most of my hair still mangled at the sides from sweat. A gym was bound to make a girl sweat. Nothing suspicious there.

The aroma of triple cheese pizza, wafting at me from the back of the car, was making me incredibly hungry. Having four heart stopping orgasms on a Saturday afternoon will do that to a woman.

I pulled myself together, then grabbed the pizza from the back seat, afraid I'd left some kind of strange and wacky clue for Samuel to sniff out. He certainly was like a damn hound dog. He had an inferiority complex and was always snooping through my drawers when I wasn't looking, thinking he might find a telltale phone number or...or...

Where the hell was my gym bag???

I was suddenly in a full blown panic. A full three and three quarter hours had passed, and my sweaty hair had all the signs of a long drawn out workout, only where was my gym bag? I never ever put stuff in the trunk, and then it hit me. Had I been that stupid to leave it sitting on the chair by the front door?

My heart sank. Obviously, when leaving the house earlier in the day, my mind had been completely absorbed with the glorious humping session I was about to undergo with Derrick. I had forgotten to pick up my stupid gym bag.

Before this afternoon, it had been over five long years since I'd had really good sex. My anticipation, wild excitement and adrenalin rush must have caused me to forget to pick up the damn gym bag off the chair. I suddenly wondered if Derrick had noticed it there or not. If he had of been in the hall, then he would have noticed it, no question, but if he had of not gone into the hall, then he wouldn't have spotted it.

I stepped out of the car door and was dismayed to see my two lovely daughters, Melissa and Crissy, bounding down the porch steps.

"Hold the railing," I pleaded, my heart breaking with the knowledge that Samuel must have passed through the hallway to open the front door for them. The specialty brass door knob would have been a tad too high for either child to reach on their own. That meant that he would have seen the gym bag, which meant I would have been lying about going to the gym. Unless...I racked my brain tirelessly to try and think of a way out.

I set the pizzas down on the hedge, then I knelt down and opened my arms to receive both running daughters, who leapt into my arms and smothered me with hugs.

"You didn't forget the pizza mommy. I knew you wouldn't. Crissy thought you would forget, but I didn't think that at all."

The younger Crissy eyed her older four year old sister with distain and suspicion. She wasn't sure what all the words meant, but she supposed it was a jab aimed her way. Melissa suspected me of looking upon the younger Crissy as my favorite.

"Oh, Samuel, you braided their hair?" I said approvingly as my husband stepped onto the porch.

His lush green eyes were riveted upon me, trying to garner valuable information from my guilty tell-tale face that might attest to just where the hell I'd been for almost four hours. My usual time away from the house on Saturday afternoons was two and a half hours. Almost four had passed.

Then there was the gym bag he'd no doubt just spotted on the chair by the door. If I went to the gym, then what did I wear?

I could feel his eyes quickly scour my appearance for any tell-tale signs that I was doing something I ought not to be doing. It didn't take him more than a few seconds to spot the missing rings on my finger as I clutched my daughters. I cringed in horror as his fixed gaze told me he had spotted damn missing rings. I was suddenly livid with myself. Why the hell hadn't I remembered to put them back on after the sex with Derrick? I sighed, knowing the answer to that. The sex had been far too sweet and amazing for me to remember much of anything. I had been to heaven and back and it would take time to shake the golden harps and cobwebs out of my brain.

Even after I rose, he continued glaring at my hand suspiciously as I began mounting the steps with my daughters. There was definitely a bare finger where my married and engagement rings usually went. I knew exactly what he was thinking. Why wasn't I wearing my rings? Why had I taken them off? I normally wore them back from the gym each and every Saturday. Was there somebody I didn't want knowing that I was married? A somebody like Derrick, perhaps?

I was now thoroughly ashamed and upset at myself. I had spent weeks planning my get together with the amazing millionaire hunk Derrick. How was it that I was botching up everything so damn badly? I was leaving trails of breadcrumbs that any amateur sleuth could follow.

I now guessed he would be thinking about the time earlier in the day when he had asked to use my cell phone because his battery was getting low. I had told him I didn't know where my phone was. I had said so without even bothering to look for it. I guessed he would be thinking that that could have meant only one thing. I hadn't wanted him to use my cell phone. 'Why?' he must have asked himself, wondering if I afraid some strange man might call while he was holding it? Or that he might spot some strange, suspicious numbers?

"How was the gym?" he asked.

"Fine," I muttered, realizing he'd asked the question because he'd spotted the bag. I knew I needed to cover my tracks fast. I kept racking my brain, until...until...bingo. "Except that I forgot my stupid gym bag. It must be right inside there by the door on the chair where I'd left it. If it wasn't for another member being able to lend me some spare stuff she had, then I would have had to of come back for it. That's why it took me so much longer than usual. I had to wait for her to get me her extra clothes."

I sensed that he was next going to ask me about the rings. How could I have been so stupid as to not have put them back on? I supposed that I had better come up with a quick lie to cover my fabulous ass.

"You're not wearing your rings," Samuel blurted out, just as I supposed he would.

"Ah yes, my rings. I was worried about getting the rings caught on a new piece of gym equipment I was trying out. It brushes against my finger harmlessly, but the jutting diamonds might have been damaged, and you know how I love the rings you bought me."

I watched him try to focus on my face. I guessed I seemed to be a much harder read than I should have been, partly because I'd had a few seconds warning to prepare a ready answer.

For now, my hastily spit out words seemed to placate him, but I got the sense he might be looking at me more closely next time. He was the kind of man that would hire a private investigator if I kept leaving so many clues. It had only been my first time cheating, and my comedy of errors had almost sunk me. I knew in my heart of hearts that he wouldn't be so willing to give me the benefit of the doubt next time. And, horror of horrors, there was no guarantee he would even be giving me the benefit of the doubt this time.

"And your phone?" he asked.

"My phone?" I spat out lamely, being caught off guard and desperately searching for a way out.

"Remember you couldn't find it this morning? Did you find it yet?"

My mind now raced in a dozen directions at once. My damn stupid phone was still turned off and still locked in my car glove box, right where I had left it. I now began kicking myself in the ass. Why hadn't I simply bought a damn cheap second cell phone on a 'pay as you go plan,' like most more experienced cheating women would? Why did I have to give Derrick my permanent cell phone number? That phone was on a three year plan with two years left to go. No way I could justify buying out the plan or changing the damn number. Or could I? What if I simply claimed I had been getting obscene phone calls? Why did I have to give Derrick my damn phone number?

I sighed at my own question. The answer to that had been obvious. When Derrick had given me his number then asked for mine in return a couple of weeks ago, I was trapped into giving him mine right there and then. I could hardly have stalled for time while I went to buy a temporary second phone. But in my defence, how could I have possibly known that on this very day, a couple of weeks later, Samuel would be asking to use my cell phone? He'd only done it on two other occasions, the last one being over six months ago. Still, him perhaps asking to use my phone was something I should have thought of from the beginning and then had prepared for when he would have asked. My lack of experience at being a naughty girl was really beginning to show.

"We gonna eat the pizza now?" Mellissa chimed in, dismayed that her daddy and I seemed to be locked in a battle of cat and mouse. This was supposed to be their pizza and movie family night. It was not supposed to be some insipid interrogation session where my husband grilled me suspiciously non-stop for the entire evening.

"Pizza," Crissy agreed, her tiny finger pointing to the large box of yummy triple cheese.

Samuel looked at their pouting angelic faces and relented. If he was bursting at the seams because he suspected me of being draped naked over a piece of furniture, then he would just have to let it go. I had left lots of smoking guns but no actual fires that needed to be put out immediately. His questioning would have to wait, but if it did resume, I would be ready for him. The reprieve my daughters whining had granted me would be put to good use. I made up in my mind that when the girls were tucked into their beds later, and if he should question me again, which he surely would, then I would go on the offensive. I was sick of him backing me into a corner by attacking. Two could play at that game.

Still, there was a volcano raging within him, partly fueled because of his inferiority complex over never being able to get it up without ejaculating prematurely. I sighed at the thought. In ninety-nine percent of all cases, doctors could help with erectile dysfunction. But his case was so damn severe and so damn untreatable, that our pitiful sex life, such as it was, would never improve. He had once exploded in rage at me because he saw the new vibrator I bought. The man is so damn infuriating. What the hell was he doing rummaging through my drawers in the first place? I had lied and told him at the time that the shiny new vibrator in the shiny new box was not for me but rather a gift for a bachelorette party I was going to. He seemed to buy that story. Still, it irked me that I had to get rid of the damn vibrator. What's a girl supposed to do when her oversexed and under loved body gets all hot and saucy? He needed to at least cut me some slack, although I will admit that having a boyfriend like Derrick, where there might develop an emotional attachment, was probably taking things too far. I now wondered if I should have used a smoking hot escort. That might prove less dangerous and more discreet, but those guys wanted big money, maybe three hundred an hour? At least five hundred for two hours? Samuel kept a tight rein on both our pocketbooks. We were very well off, with over two hundred grand in the bank, but he was a nickel and dimer when it came to saving and a Scrooge when it came to spending. I was therefore trapped like a rat in a maze. I was just going to have to take a chance that Derrick and I didn't become emotionally involved, although it seemed that Derrick was already starting to let his damn heart drift in that dangerous direction. Where was a hot hunk that only wanted sex without attachments when you needed him?