Now You Do Mine - Conclusion

We lay together, her long straight hair, a golden curtain shimmering in the sunlight, splayed across my chest, both of us naked and panting. She rested her head against me, the musky scent of sex and our passion permeating the air, our sheets damp and cooling as we lay in a puddle of her juices and my jizz, holding each other in the afterglow of our latest lovemaking. She assured me each time this was the best sex she had enjoyed her whole life, and it was for me, too.

Husband and wife.

Not her husband, and not my wife.

Gretchen and I had met earlier in the year over a fit of jealous rage, when she had come within moments of shooting me, threatening to do the same to herself right after. She'd come home early, unexpectedly, catching my wife Amanda in bed with her husband Walter, furiously fucking. Amanda had lusted after him for a couple of decades, and got my agreement to let her sleep with him for a single weekend, to get him out of her system, admitting him eagerly into her pussy and mouth. I discovered that afternoon that he was married, and didn't know whether she knew, or cared.

His wife Gretchen had nearly walked in on them, instead peeking through the bedroom door, left thoughtfully ajar. They were rutting away doggy-style, moaning and cumming on their matrimonial bed. Gretchen had taken her pistol, gotten our address from Amanda's purse, and come to exact revenge by way of a murder-suicide. To punish both of them. It was a poor plan from the start.

She couldn't do it, and we ended up talking things out, then taking our revenge a different way, in each other's arms, fucking and sucking all weekend, reveling in the loving touch of a stranger. Now, each time Amanda disappeared to visit Walter, Gretchen flew into my arms and bed, both of us taking advantage of the opportunity our faithless spouses afforded us. The second time was nearly two months later, and was frankly just as incredible as the first time. It was now more than three months since our first time, and not coincidentally their first time.

Gretchen's eyes were closed, almost drowsing next to me, a satisfied and gentle smile plastered on her sensuous lips. "Mmm. Love this... Penny for your thoughts, Doug..." She stretched in a very feline fashion and turned towards me, one leg sliding over mine, her fragrance thick in my nostrils, her body warm and silky against mine.

I paused only a moment. "How badly would it frighten you off if I said I love you?"

She pulled herself in closer and kissed the middle of my chest. "About as much as it would you if I said the same thing." She grinned up at me. "So, you first?," she taunted.

"Okay. I love you, Gretchen."

She gave a delighted chuckle. "You better! If you didn't it would make all this fucking really tawdry. Disreputable. Even though our significant others are fucking away in my house." She said it with a cheerfulness I knew was deceptive, at least in her own heart.

"So, what about you, Gretchen...?" I held her close, feeling the length of her body, warm and soft, still wet where I had filled her up, sticky between her tits when my cumshot had dribbled down her chin earlier and was now dried to a shiny patch. Gretchen had let it cool and stiffen on her skin, a shiny badge of...not honor, but something equally important, I was certain. My lips met hers in the kind of long, slow kisses that often come before sex, and she smiled.

When I had first seen her, I had the strong impression she had been a stranger to happiness, or maybe only a passing acquaintance. Since our trysts, matching those of my wife and her husband, we found ourselves happier than we'd ever been with anyone, much less them. "Well, you're a great listener, very easy on the eyes, and your dick feels good anywhere you stick it. I guess I am in love with you, Dougie!"

A few minutes later, we were in the shower, my cock hardening as the gorgeous blonde pressed her soapy body against mine. Our kisses were passionate, and passion had certainly been missing from our lives before we met, for years. We rinsed, and I turned the water off. The bathroom was steamy, and I dropped down to my haunches, my mouth at about the right level.

"Put your leg over my shoulder, babe."

Gretchen made a pleased little sound and did so, displaying the blonde pussy I craved as much as she craved my cock inside her. Supporting her with my hands, I palmed her ass, reaching underneath with my thumbs to spread her slit, and started running the tip of my tongue along her slit, tasting the still-present lubrication there. Her bush was matted with water, and I worked to wet it further, sticking my tongue up inside her, thrusting gently, bringing the tip of it forward with each thrust, going slowly, tantalizing her with each motion.

I felt her hands alight on my head, not grabbing my hair, just steadying herself. The air started to cool, the steam settling like dew on our skin. I kept my eyes closed, my mouth and tongue working on her labia and clit and hole, all three the center of my attention this morning. It was Saturday, and we had until Sunday afternoon. We didn't want to waste a minute of it.

Her whispers built up, rhythmic puffs of barely vocalized lust into the tiled stall, glass door firmly shut, hiding nothing in the event my wife came home.

Which would have been perfect.

Amanda's affair, presented initially as a one-weekend fling, had continued. I'd always suspected deep down that one time with her long-time sexual crush wouldn't be enough. Several more weekends had followed, each one prefaced with some variation of, "I hate to ask, and I love you so much," and then she would be gone again.

Each time I relented, and every time Gretchen joined me here, both of us getting what we were lacking in our own marriages. My wife didn't know, but we did, and the sinfulness of sleeping with each other carried its own attractions, not the least of which was that Gretchen was stunningly beautiful, and a virtually untapped font of sexual discovery waiting to be explored, if not actually conquered.

Gretchen's body started shivering, but not from the cooling air. The puffs of sound resolved into one word, over and over. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Each time was louder than the first, and I pictured her with her head back, pressed against the pristine white tile, her back arching and breasts thrusting forward. Now her hands did grip my head, her fingers clutching the curls of my hair, an erotic reflex, pulling me in, claiming me for her own.

A spurt of sweet, hot pussy juices splashed onto my tongue, and she exhaled sharply, then her shout of "Fuck, baby!" took over, as she humped my face vigorously, each time expelling a little more of her juices. I swallowed them greedily, then, while she still quivered, kissed quickly up her belly to between her tits, my mouth coming to rest on hers.

She kissed back hard, and we stood there fondling and holding each other.

"God, Dougie! What came over you?"

"I just felt like I had to do something to thank you for this morning's blowjob..."

"You keep thanking me like that, I can look forward to a lot more cum swallowing!" She inhaled, then giggled. "God, we just fucking showered, and we both smell like my pussy!"

"Maybe it took long enough that we have more hot water?"

I was right. There was plenty, and this time we emerged clean and dried off with barely any orgasms.

********

Gretchen reclined against me on the couch, her ass between my legs and her back against my chest. My arms were around her midriff, and her hair was still damp with the shampoo we'd used. Her sigh was a thing of beauty, her chest inflating, pushing her breasts up and forward before exhaling.

I kissed her temple. "Just another lazy Saturday afternoon..."

"With the best lover I've ever had."

She turned to look at me, and I gave her a startled look, and she giggled. "You too?," I asked in mock astonishment.

Gretchen settled back into me. "Oh, yes, you too, my love. You too."

We just lay back for a while, the small of my back against the overstuffed armrest. It was odd to realize Amanda and I had never fucked on the couch, even though that was one of the reasons she used to persuade me to buy it for the house. Walter's wife and I were putting it to excellent use now, though, and spent at least one session there every weekend we were together.

The sun had hit its apex a little earlier, and Gretchen turned in my arms, her breasts against my chest now. "I have an idea for something different, baby..." Every time she called me that, or any of the other sweet endearments we now traded, I felt even closer to her.

My interest was immediately piqued. "Tell me."

Gretchen moved further up my body, her skin soft against mine as she did so, until her lips grazed mine, a promise of things to come. "I was reading..." She stopped. "I have to ask you..."

"Anything, my love."

Her cheeks colored with desire. "So, Doug, has Amanda ever let you...watch her?"

I wasn't sure what she meant, and said so.

"This is much harder to ask than I thought. Should have done it over our wine last night." She smiled coquettishly at me, averting her eyes as her blush deepened. "Fuck..." She took a deep breath and held my gaze bravely. "Does she ever let you...watch her get herself off?"

I laughed, relief tinged with a little bitterness. "No, never. She loves being the instrument of my pleasure, and apparently his"--there was no mistake in either of our minds who I meant--"but I haven't ever watched her, except when we're fucking. Don't even think she plays with herself."

Gretchen favored me with a wicked, covert smile. "Oh, she does, Dougie. If you look in the top drawer of her night stand, there are a couple of vibrators, cleverly hidden in a photo album. And a two-foot long dildo, nice and thick, in the bottom drawer, still has some lube on it."

"You peeked?" Somehow, I felt no twinge of discomfort at her snooping in my wife's things, or in finding her things.

She nodded.

"Did you..."

It was her turn to laugh. "Did I use her dildos? No, baby! I already have her husband's dick to play with. Why would I need her toys? Besides, that's not why I asked..." Her blush had progressed down her throat to the ample curve of her breasts, and her nipples were erect again. Breathing deeply through her nose, she got up from the couch and went to her bag, much larger than her usual purse, I realized belatedly. But then again, it wasn't her accessories that captivated me all night Friday.

Bare-assed, she bent at her waist, showing off her beautiful buttocks and the pink slit framed by her golden bush, sliding one foot to the side, spreading her thighs for my benefit. Her juices glistened on her labia, and my cock began to harden at the sight. Rummaging in her bag, she found what she was searching for, and straightened with something, some things, in her hands. She made her way back to the couch and sat on the opposite end while laying her treasures out between us.

The first item was the color of flesh, and the shape of an impressive hard-on, larger than mine by a lot, larger than most men's natural equipment, about a foot long, thick as her forearm. A smaller item, the size of a thick ballpoint pen and a shiny metallic blue, curved on one end and came to a rounded point. She set a third item, a transparent bottle of a thick, clear liquid, a couple of bubbles suspended within it, on the coffee table.

Gretchen smiled nervously. "Thought you might like this."

"Your toys? How often do you use them?"

"Every week or two," she said diffidently. "Walter doesn't know I have them, and he's never seen me use them."

"How doesn't he know?"

"They're hidden in my gun safe. Larger than I needed, but the perfect spot for these too. I take them out sometimes if I get home early enough, or take a day. I have four weeks of vacation every year, and we don't use a lot of them together."

She leaned back into the armrest, spreading her thighs, running her forefinger up and down the slit, spreading her juices all over her slit and into her bush. She licked her lips shyly. "Would you like to watch? While I fuck myself and cum for you?" Her voice was thick with desire, and I wondered how much she'd wanted to do this for me, or anyone else.

I nodded. "Just watch?"

A hungry grin crossed her face, settled there as she reached for the first, larger dildo. "For now, baby. I'll let you know if I need your help. Just sit back for now and enjoy the floor show..." With that, she opened the bottle and squeezed out a large dollop of lube onto it, then used her fingers to spread the stuff on it. At that point, she started slowly jacking it off, coating it and smiling wolfishly at me.

Suitably lubed, she put the immense head of it, larger than a golf ball, against her slit, and ran her fingers over her labia, coating them too. Reaching down with both hands, Gretchen gripped it at the base and less than halfway down from the head, aiming it at her hole. Spreading her legs, but not too far, she sighed as she inserted it inside her. It only made it about halfway in before she stopped pushing and started moving it in and out.

She did this for several minutes, her head laid back, softly gasping with each thrust. The slippery wet sound as it passed into and out of her was the only other one in the room. I held my breath, never having a woman do this for me. I'd watched something like it in a porn movie, a few of them, but seeing it myself was far more erotic, knowing it was a private show just for me...

Her fingers drove the latex rod in and out of her, and she began to moan in time to the languid thrusts she was pleasuring herself with. Her breath caught, and she trembled with an orgasm, the sexiest thing I'd ever seen in that moment. She leaned her head forward and barely opened her eyes. "Baby, please give me the other one, but twist the bottom first to turn it on..."

I took the comparatively slender wand and switched it on, feeling the vibrations traveling along my hand. She took it and pointed it downward with her right hand before letting it rest on her clitoris. The pink nub had swollen visibly since her play had started, and the combination of the lube and her juices had it slick. Gretchen held the smaller vibrator like a pencil, and expertly guided the buzzing curved tip to the groove where her pussy lips shrouded her clit.

She immediately groaned loudly, working the tip in a tight oval, and her belly shook again with another climax. Panting, she barely opened her eyes. "Dougie, you can help now... Just move the big one in and out slowly for me."

I was off the couch, kneeling at her side, and took the massive dildo in my hand, gripping the shaft so it wouldn't slip, and took over thrusting it inside her. The lube was odorless, but the heady scent of her arousal filled the room. Her left hand, freed from the task of guiding the dildo, slipped up her body to her breasts. She rubbed her nipples, pinched them gently, and her mouth opened, emitting a loud groan as her belly tightened again and again. Gretchen's pussy juices washed out onto the sofa, darkening the blue upholstery with each squirt, wordless moans accompanying each spasm of her tummy and each wet spatter.

She looked over at me again, her eyes coming to rest on my erection, now tight and hard. "One more thing, baby... Stand over me, jack off onto my tits..."

I released the big dildo and she grabbed it, taking over its leisurely penetration. I leaned over her, one hand on the back of the couch, the other rubbing my cock furiously, letting my lust take over completely. Gretchen watched in fascination and desire as I jacked myself faster and faster. Her eyes stayed locked on my cock, even as her back arched again and another wash of her fluids dowsed the cushions.

"God yes, Dougie. Cum for me, baby, give it all to me." I couldn't have stopped if I'd wanted to, and I felt the first surge of semen erupt. I pointed my glans at the center of her chest, unloading on her tits. At the first touch of my cum, she climaxed again, screaming her satisfaction to the room, eclipsed by my own ecstatic scream.

Leaning over, I panted, eyes closed, feeling my horniness subside slowly. Gretchen chuckled. "Fuck, baby! Thank you... That was so fucking hot!" I looked down, and saw my cum coating her tits, starting to slide down the rounded sides of them like thin icing. The little curved vibrator still buzzed happily on the cushions, and she started withdrawing the big one from her pussy. When I was it exit her, and the hole slide closed after it, I moaned with desire.

Switching off the little vibrator, Gretchen sat up and headed over before leaning down to open the cabinets under the sink, grabbed two of the kitchen towels and bringing them back so we could clean up. First, she grabbed me for a long sexy kiss, and laid her head against my chest. "You ever masturbate for a girl before?"

"For her, not in front of her..."

Her laugh was nearly silent, though heartfelt. "I thought you were going to shoot your load just sliding Fat Man in and out of me..."

"Fat Man?"

She nodded gleefully. "Fat Man and Little Boy," she said proudly.

"Like the first two atom bombs?" It seemed inappropriate, and on another level wholly appropriate.

"Exactly like them." She snuggled into me again. "So...I've never let anyone watch me play before."

"That's a pity. It was very, very sexy."

She giggled airily. "So was watching you watching me. I don't usually cum so hard, but I guess it was just because I was sharing for the first time, waiting for unload all over me."

We cleaned up, then hit the shower again, cleansing the lube and cum from her body, making out again under the steamy water.

When we were done and toweled off, we headed back to the living room, still naked. "What about the couch, Doug?"

"It's waterproofed. I'll clean it up later." I considered for a moment. "Or not, and dare her to say anything about it."

********

Our sex lives continued to revolve around Amanda's visits to Walter and Gretchen's house and bed. Roughly every three weeks, Gretchen made an excuse to be out of the house over the weekend, and Amanda took every opportunity to be gone the same amount of time from my house and bed. Gretchen would arrive at my door less than an hour after Amanda stole out of the house, and was always out the door an hour or two before my wife came back, freshly showered, and horny with me for about two weeks.

If Amanda noticed anything different in my demeanor, she said nothing about it. We continued fucking hard the intervening weeks between her trips to see Walter, and she took every opportunity to assure me earnestly that she loved me, and me only, and wanted me inside her pussy, reminding me each time that Walter was just a fling. The truth, I came to realize, was she had an addiction to Walter, something she would never kick, unless she had a reason to. Though I asked for details, Amanda would never discuss what exactly they did that drew her back to him regularly.

Wednesday evening about five months into our mutual dalliances, over dinner, I broached the subject. "So," after swallowing a bite of lasagna, "what about Walter's wife? Is she okay with the arrangement?"

"Walter says she is, and I believe him. She apparently hasn't been interested in sex in almost ten years, and told him she's fine with him getting his rocks off occasionally."

"Hm." A bite of garlic bread and a sip of Chianti cleansed my palate sufficiently. "So, babe, what if she walked in on the two of you? I know she said she was fine with it"--Gretchen most certainly not fine with it in any way, I knew--"but I'm sure it would be different if she saw him plowing your fields..." I made the comment as mild as I could.