Order and Chaos

By all accounts you are truly a good man. A well-deserved and earned reputation. You've made all the right decisions. You've followed the rules. You've stayed within the lines and it has served you well.

Your plumbing business is thriving. You've got an amazing wife who is a genuinely good mate. And let's be honest, you're a slightly overweight 38-year-old man who is starting to lose his hair. She's aging gracefully and is literally out of your league in the looks department.

There's nothing missing in your relationship. She's submissive in the bedroom. She respects you. And she never withholds her attention or affection from you.

She's a wonderful mother and you are an amazing father. Your kids are overall well-mannered and thrive at school.

You are living the dream. This is truly the life you've always wanted. You love the routine you've settled into. You love knowing what to expect every day.

You are ORDER.

You see her every day in the school pick up line. There she is picking up her 3 kids by 3 different dads. Before the hardship of several years of poor decision making took its toll on her, you're sure she was beautiful once.

You do your best not to judge her, but if you're honest with yourself you are piously thankful that you have chosen better.

She's a mess. Financially, a mess. Socially, mess. Mentally, emotionally, spiritually...mess mess mess.

You constantly hear about all her drama through the grapevine. And though some of her stories sound fun and exciting, the overwhelming majority are sad and exhausting.

You are cordial and respectful toward her when you interact. She flirts, but it's innocent enough considering she openly flirts with everyone. She's thankful for the handful of people like you that treat her as an equal.

She is CHAOS.

One afternoon after a brunch with her friends your wife comes home and begins to tell you how amazing you are compared to a lot of her friends' husbands. You don't do it all the time, but you're more than happy to help with the laundry and the dishes. When it comes to the kids you are always looking for ways to spend time and do things with them. But most of all she tells you how thankful she is for creating a safe and secure life for her and the kids.

Intellectually, you know that this is the highest compliment your wife could pay you. And she genuinely means it. So, your logical mind accepts and relishes in the praise. But your soul dies a little.

You don't always want to be safe. There is a beast inside of you that you've caged and tamed. He's dangerous and adventurous, and damn it, sometimes he wants out.

You push this feeling to the side and go on making all the right decisions and doing all the right things, but it eats at you.

A few weeks later in the school pick-up line, Chaos pulls up next to you and rolls down her window.

"Hey John, I hate to bother you, but I am having some issues with my tub draining at home. Is there any chance I could get you out this week to take a look at it?" she asks.

Thinking nothing of it, since it is your profession, you say sure and set up a time to meet with her.

The day comes and you show up at her place and head to the door with your tools.

She greets you at the door in very short cut-off jean shorts and an old ratty Nirvana t-shirt, clearly with no bra underneath.

She leads you through the messy house to the bathroom.

Within 30 seconds you deduce that it is draining slowly due to hair build-up in the drain. You remove the rat's nest of hair and throw it in the trashcan next to the toilet. You return the drain back to operating form and stand up to let her know the job is done.

You turn around and she's standing there with her right hand tugging down on the neck of her shirt. Her right arm falls between her unsecured breasts causing the shirt to press more tightly against her showing off her perky nipples.

"Thank you so much, John! How much do I owe you?"

You know she doesn't have much money, and you really didn't do much so you tell her that this service call was on the house and just to tell her friends about the great service the company has given her.

She agrees and gives you a hug, intentionally pressing as much of her body up against you as she can. You notice, but just half-heartedly return the hug.

You turn the water on in the shower and tell her you want to make sure it's draining well before you leave.

"I'm going to run my tools out to the truck, let this water run, and when I get back as long as keeps draining properly, I'll get out of your hair."

You return the tools to the truck and head back into the house. When you get back to the bathroom it's empty. You pull the curtain back to shut off the water and are startled when you see Chaos standing in the shower completely naked, getting wet.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were getting in there!" you say.

You said the right words, but you found yourself not turning or looking away.

You are drawn to the view of her naked body. Her full D cup breasts looked amazing covered in water droplets. The right was noticeably bigger than the left, but her long nipples were well centered and matching. She wasn't a larger girl by any means, her stomach bore the stretchmarks that childbearing brings, but it had returned nicely to its pre-pregnancies shape and tone. Her pussy was shaved completely bald. And bald is beautiful. Her pussy lips resembled roast beef in shape and color. A meal that you wouldn't mind tasting for yourself.

You snap back to reality when she grabs your hand and says, "It's okay John, I wanted you to find me in here." She reaches forward and turns the water off and steps out directly in front of you.

She looks up at you with innocent eyes. You have no idea how she could look so innocent when you know she's anything but! She takes her right hand and reaches toward your pants landing confidently around the outline of your swelling shaft.

"I don't really have any money to pay you with, but if you'll let me, I'd like to repay you another way."

Everything inside of you tells you to run away. You are a good man. You are not a cheater. You're a husband and a father. And you have everything you want waiting for you at home. But you're frozen.

You are Order. You have never been this close to Chaos. And now, not only are you closer to Chaos than you've ever been, but Chaos literally has you by the cock.

You stand there silently as Chaos lowers herself to her knees. She undoes your belt, unbuttons your pants, and unzips your jeans like she's done it a million times.

Seeing no objection, she pulls your pants and underwear down past your butt, freeing your throbbing cock from its prison. Without hands she takes your dick into her mouth.

For the first time in well over a decade a mouth other than your wife's is massaging cock. You instantly feel the regret and shame of doing something you know is wrong. This is not who you are, this is not what you want. But, fuck, does it feel amazing. As warm and wet as any pussy you've imagined. She expertly keeps her teeth away as she effortlessly glides the length of your shaft over and over.

She momentarily pulls her head back and says, "tell me when you're going to cum."

Then right back to it. She's smoking your pole like addict, and it feels better than any other time you've had your dick sucked.

"I'm going to cum!" you grunt out.

She pulls you out of her mouth and starts stroking you vigorously with her right hand and massages your balls with her left.

She lines up her face just below the head of your dick, mouth open, tongue out.

"I want you to fuckin' cum all over my fuckin' face John."

"Give that cum, right now!" she demanded.

You can take it any longer and release your first hot, thick rope of jizz across her face. It lands in a line from her forehead, across her now closed left eye, down the side of her nose and onto her upper lip. Rope 2 shoots strait up onto her nostrils. She puts the head of your cock in her mouth and continues to stroke. Ropes 3, 4, and 5 shoot hard against the back of her throat. She keeps you in her mouth until she knows you're done. She then sucks every last drop out of your cock.

She stands up covered in your jizz and thanks you again for taking care of her today.

You put yourself back together and she walks you to the door still wearing your spunk.

No words are spoken. You return to your truck and leave. On the ride home you try to convince yourself that that wasn't you. You are a good man. A good husband. And a good father. But are you?

You are Order. Or so you thought.