All characters in this story are over eighteen years of age.
This is a story that delves into the life of a beautiful twenty-seven year old married woman. A nice person. Many readers will hate her, will want her punished for her perceived sins. But she's just a normal woman. Not horrible or evil. Just trying to live her life. Struggling to be happy. So please don't judge her too hard. It's not her fault she likes it ...
Sept 3rd 2007
She was smiling contentedly, idly rubbing her belly, as she moved to answer the door. But even in her hurry she had an awareness of her new responsibility, that there were now two people who depended on her every step. She couldn't afford to slip and fall.
"You!" she hissed after opening the door and seeing the boy. 'The boy'. That what she'd started to call him in her mind lately. Not Paul. Not 'my love'. Simply 'the boy'. Period.
It was easier to forget the nights and afternoons of passion that way. Much easier to forget that this beautiful man/boy now in front of her, a big grin on his face, was the father of the daughter growing in her stomach.
Get rid of him, she thought, her mind turning urgently, trying to devise some strategy. He won't notice, she tried to convince herself as she whispered, "Paul?"
"I couldn't wait...I know I should have called...I just got back today," he stammered as he moved toward her with arms open.
"PAUL!" she said, her tone stopping him dead in his tracks. "I live here...my neighbors...my husband."
"I couldn't wait," he protested, as his begging eyes found hers. Then she was engulfed in his powerful arms.
"No," she whispered just as his lips found hers. "The door," she gasped when the kiss finally ended, "close the door."
Within seconds he was in her again, his big cock housed tightly in her straining sheathe. He'd simply lifted up the yellow summer dress she wore, baring her thighs, then pushed aside her white cotton panties with eager fingers while his other hand freed his tumescent penis.
"Pleasssse Paul," she cried as he entered her, but in a tone that made it impossible to tell if she was protesting or inviting.
And then she was full of him, full in a way no other man had ever come close to approaching. For a second a vision of her husband John flashed across her brain, but then was gone, erased by the jolt of ecstasy that seemed to leap from Paul's thick, bulbous cockhead directly into her cunt and then exploded upwards into every synapse of her brain.
There were no soft words or caresses as they made love, instead it was simply a needy, animalistic coupling of two hungry humans who'd been apart four months.
She wondered what messages were being delivered to Paul's baby that was growing deep inside her stomach. She wondered if her daughter-to-be felt the bath that her lovers spurting cock was soon drenching her insides with.
"You're beautiful," he whispered, still hard and deeply embedded in her. "Did you miss me?"
"No! You shouldn't have. This is my home," she protested but couldn't stop the moist, spasming contractions her vagina was exerting on his prick. "You have to go," she ordered, not wanting him to discover her secret. God, how she'd missed his cock she suddenly realized.
"Not yet," he said as his clenching thighs forced his penis back towards her womb.
"NO!" she cried out, trying to somehow stop his fingers as they moved to undo the buttons of her dress.
"I want to see you," he insisted, then pushed the dress down off her shoulders. His hips continued to move, thrusting his cock in and out of her.
"Oh yessssss Paul," she groaned, "oh fuck me baby...hurry...harder," she suddenly groaned out, hoping to distract him from anything else. She felt his fingers undo the strap of her bra. And then her body totally betrayed her, arching upward in ecstasy as she lubricated his pistoning cock.
Locking her ankles around the boys back she forgot everything and simply let his massive pole bring her the pleasure she'd been craving since he'd left four months ago. Then she screamed out her joy, her total acceptance of his maleness, when his penis started bucking out its load of thick cream inside her for a second time.
"Don't," he ordered minutes later when I tried to wrap the unbuttoned dress around me, "I want to see you."
I simply lay back, then let him pull the edges of the dress apart and bare me. Panting, I watched as his eyes ran over my skin, devouring me, then saw him stop, saw the shock register in his eyes.
"Yes," I answered shyly, keeping my eyes down.
"My baby,' he said wonderingly.
"No...its Johnnies...it's not yours," I lied, denying the father of my baby.
"Liar!" he laughed as his hand tentatively caressed my stomach. "Its mine," he insisted.
"No," I denied again.
But of course it was his baby. And as I lay watching my lover I couldn't stop the visions of memory as they cascaded through my brain...
April 26th 2007
"C'mon, we're going out."
"I can't...I shouldn't," I protested to Cathy's entreaty.
"What? You're going to go home and watch American Idol? Another exciting night in the Roberts household?" she mocked.
"It's okay for you. For you and Jill," I accused.
"Why, because I'm divorced? Because Jill never married. You're only twenty-seven for Christ's sake Lizzie. C'mon, your little Johnnie-boys out of town."
"Just dinner?" I asked, knowing it would be impossible to rebuff the entreaties of my best friend.
"Dinner and then drinks. Maybe even some dancing," she said smiling, knowing she'd won.
"I can't be too late," I continued to resist
"Okay Cinderella," she teased and then lifted her cellphone. "Jill?" she asked down the line seconds later. "We're on. We'll meet you at seven at 'Xanadu'. Yes, in the restaurant bar." I watched her as she listened to something Jill said, saw the smile as she said, "Oh don't worry, Mrs. Elizabeth Anne Roberts is hot to trot."
"I am not," I hissed angrily.
I had known Cathy Miller since we'd been in the fifth grade together, two ten year olds with braces on our teeth. Gawd, almost seventeen years since then, I thought as I looked at my friend. We'd shared clothes, talked for hours on the phone, had sleepovers nearly every week, double dated, even traded boyfriends a couple of times along the way.
The night I lost my virginity I went directly to her house after I'd been bloodied and gave her a blow by blow description before I fell asleep crying in her arms. Not to be outdone Cathy went out the next weekend and lost hers.
High school... oh gosh, they were great years...then both of us decided to go to nursing school...more good years. Then Cathy drifted into a relationship that ended up with her married at twenty-one. She was divorced just two years later!
But of course, after she'd married I'd gone looking for a husband too, then quickly found John Roberts and bingo, at twenty-two I'd found myself married too. And I was still married more than five years later. I'd never cheated.
"C'mon, we'll go to your place and shower and change," Cathy ordered as she took my hand and led me towards the door.
"Can't we just go like this?"
"NO. We're not going out to dinner and dancing in our nurses uniforms Mrs. Roberts. Some perfume, a hot little dress, maybe even put on some of that sexy, lace underwear your husband is always buying you."
"Your terrible," I accused, but was secretly excited.
When I was finally dressed I looked pretty good, at least for an old married lady who hadn't done something like this for over five years. Cathy had rejected the first three outfits I'd chosen.
"We're not going to a funeral," had banished my first choice. She had finally agreed to a black skirt, not a mini but it didn't quite reach my knees, and it was one of those tight skirts that just accentuate a well shaped bum (which I had), and which also did have an enticing slit. "Hot," she'd said okaying my choice as I stood in front of her topless.
She'd insisted that I wear heels. Then she picked a black, lace demi bra for me that simply lifted and displayed my still firm (if I say so myself) breasts exquisitely.
"You always had better tits than me," Cathy groused as she offered me the bra.
"Yours were bigger...and I don't need something so ....so sexy," I said, but still held it in front of my breasts and let her attach it.
"Lucky little Johnnie," she laughed as she tweaked my nipples. For a top for me she chose a spaghetti strapped, crimson, scooped neck, satin cami with lace trim.
"Don't," I complained as my nubs hardened proudly under her fingers.
"You're lucky I'm not a man. Now bend over," Cathy ordered when I'd put the top on.
"I want to see how much of your titties I can see," she laughed.
"Your awful," I accused, remembering the many other nights we'd dressed each other before going out man hunting, then I added, while cupping and lifting my tits through my top, "these are Johnnies now, no ones else."
"We'll see," she warned ominously.
"I shouldn't be going, John will go crazy if he ever finds out," I suddenly blurted out, all of a sudden wondering how I'd ever let Cathy persuade me to go out with her.
"He's already crazy," my best friend replied. "Besides, if old Don Juan Roberts was any kind of lover his wife wouldn't have to be gallivanting around town." My husband and Cathy had never got along, in fact they detested each other.
"Cathy!" I warned. "And I'm not gallivanting around town. We're just going out for dinner."
"It's not my fault you married a man with a tiny prick."
"It's not tiny!"
"An old man who only wants to have sex once a month."
"He doesn't. Stop that. And he's only thirty-two."
"Way too old for you," Cathy responded knowingly.
I'd met John Roberts my last year of nursing school, just weeks after Cathy had got married. During the six months of our whirlwind romance she'd been too busy with her new married life to notice what was going on in my life. I married him two weeks after graduating. He was five years older than me. A salesman then, now five years later an up and coming regional sales manager making close to six figures a year. A pretty nice guy.
And even though she'd been my maid of honor, it seemed like it took Cathy about another six months to realize I was married. "Why'd you marry that nut?" she'd asked me one night. By that time she had soured on her hubby and marriage in general.
But the truth was, if I'd been able to get pregnant I would have been totally happy with my life. But so far I hadn't. We'd tried...tried for three years in fact, but so far no luck. Johnnie, who wanted a baby as much as I, wasn't concerned with my inability to conceive. 'Sooner or later it'll work honey,' he'd say but increasingly I'd become less convinced.
I'd gone to my doctor and he'd said I was perfectly healthy...'no problem at all young lady,' he'd said smiling, but month after month I remained barren. And Johnnie wasn't in any hurry to get tested. Doubts slowly entered my mind. Doubts that were nurtured by Cathy's continued talk of fabulous lovers, of big pricked men who she claimed continually brought her to the edge and over.
And it wasn't that sex was that bad with Johnnie. I enjoyed it. He enjoyed it. Maybe we didn't do it as often as I'd have liked but...
And it wasn't that he was so small...it was more the continuous talk of big cocks and virile men that seem to bombard us in this internet age that somehow resonated in my mind and seemed to explain my inability to get pregnant.
Increasingly I'd woken up from a restless dream wondering if I was missing something in life...whether I needed a bigger man in me...a bigger cocked man...a man who'd put a baby in me...a prick that would somehow satisfy the sexual frustration I'd increasingly been feeling....
"She needs a nice big, fat, roasted cock for dinner," Cathy said to Jill as the three of us sat looking at the menus an hour later. "I wonder where they're listed on this menu?" We'd all had drunk two drinks while waiting for our table and I'd already figured out I was in for a long night with these two.
Licking her lips Jill answered, "Right under the baked balls."
"Stop it you two," I ordered while trying to swallow a giggle.
"We need a thick, juicy ten incher," Cathy announced to our waiter, a pretty boy with a name tag that announced he was 'Jules'. We weren't in any danger of getting a hard ten incher from this fancy boy.
"You mean the ten ounce filllletttt mignon?" he asked with a lisp as he pointed to an item on the menu.
"Cock Jules, we're looking for a nice, long, nutty sausage," Jill insisted grinning. "Something made for pussy."
"Oh you girls are terrible," he tut-tutted laughing as he waved his wrist at us. We ended up ordering Italian and the limp strands of Jill's spaghetti provided us with lots ammunition for conversation. Jules was our new best friend by the time the coffee came.
We finished dinner just after ten thirty, and as we left Cathy announced to our new friend that we were going to the bar upstairs to find what the restaurant didn't have on the menu.
"Well if you find any, save one for me," were his last words.
The Xanadu had two floors of bars above the restaurant; the top floor bar, a big open space with DJ and dance floor, a place where I'd spent many nights at in my misspent youth, a place that attracted the students from the university and the local community college. The second floor, where we headed that night after dinner, housed a trendy, soft lit collection of rooms that catered to the twenty-five to forty-five year old crowd. Soft music and expensive drinks. A pick up bar for young professionals.
And of course Cathy and Jill seemed to know everyone we passed. Then almost before we'd got settled and had got a drink inside ourselves Jill disappeared with a short, Italian looking guy.
"We won't see her again tonight," predicted Cathy as I watched Jill rush away.
"What? But he's not," I started before Cathy cut me off.
"Apparently he can fuck all night," Cathy confided with a wink. "He's not that good looking nor that well hung," she added, "but he can do it forever. And he loves going down on a girl."
"Jeeeesus," I muttered, "you mean?"
"Cunnnnnnnilinnnnngusssss," Cathy answered as she flicked her moist tongue up and down.
"Have you....with him I mean?" I asked.
"He's not my style," Cathy denied but with a wry look that seemed to belie her denial. While I'd been practicing marital fidelity for the last five years my friend had been 'testing the waters' as she had described it. She was lucky she hadn't drowned!
But I found it was fun! We danced and drank, flirted with well dressed, good looking men and then returned to our table and giggled like schoolgirls. It had been so long since I'd had a night like this. It was something I knew was wrong but felt so good.
"God, what a pig," Cathy complained with a dirty smile after we'd returned from another round of dances.
"He kept grabbing my ass...pulling me against him...his cock," she explained with a smirk.
"So did mine," I laughed.
"Was it big?" she asked with a leer.
"Un huh," I agreed with a wink.
"You slut!" she laughed, but then asked, "Bigger than Johnnies?" When I didn't answer and instead got up and started to walk away she yelled out, "Where are you going?"
"To pee...then I think I'll go upstairs and see what our old college hangout looks like." I shouted back. "I'll be back soon."
"They're just babies up there," she warned to my retreating back.
Of course it was louder and wilder on the third floor. The kids out partying had all just finished their final exams, and were getting drunk or hoping to get laid one last time before they dispersed back to their homes across the country for the summer. They made me feel old as I watched them from a spot against the wall.
"Gawd," I mumbled aloud when I saw two very healthy young coeds dancing topless across the room. Flashing their tits to a grinning, cheering audience. I was too intent watching them to notice his approach.
"Would you like to dance topless with me?" he asked, magically appearing in front of me.
"What?" I asked, suddenly faced by an impossibly handsome boy. His deep male voice carried a sexy huskiness that made me shiver.
"All coeds have to dance once topless tonight...it's the rule," he said with an ease and confidence that didn't match his age. Then I stood motionless as he lightly grasped the bodice of my cami and pulled it away from my skin. I didn't protest even as I watched his eyes rake hungrily over my now bared breasts.
"I'm not a coed...I don't go to the university," I finally stammered.
"You're in high school?" he teased as he let my top go but after he did he ran two fingers lightly over my right nipple through my top.
"I'm old," I finally complained, my nipples suddenly hard, stunned at my lack of protest at this boys manhandling of me.
"You're beautiful, c'mon, let's dance," he urged as he took my hand and led me towards the floor.
"Buttttttt," I said even as my feet followed him. You're married you fool...he's just a boy, I admonished myself as he pulled me into his arms.
We danced for twenty minutes before I finally came up for air. We were simply good together. Natural. We seemed to know exactly every move the other was about to make. We didn't talk, hardly touched as we moved across the floor. But the whole time our eyes hardly left the others, eyes that continually sent laser like messages to the other.
'Take me,' my eyes screamed. His answered.
What are you doing I asked myself when the music finally stopped. "I'm hot...I have to get back," I panted, ashamed at the feelings coursing through me. "My friends are waiting...downstairs,' I explained.
"I'll come," he offered, still holding my hand.
"No...please...you can't...I really have to go," I said escaping from his clutches. "I'm married," I added as I backed away from him.
"My names Paul," he said with a smile, then added, "I've never danced with someone like you."
"I'm going...I have to," I answered as I fled. Oh fuck!
"Where were you? I thought you'd been kidnapped," Cathy demanded when I finally got back to our table. She was sitting next to a thirty something year old, a dark haired hunk.
"Reliving memories," I whispered, still shaken by my reaction to the student.
Twenty minutes and a couple of dances later I could see that Cathy and her friend were getting itchy. "It's getting late," she finally offered just after midnight after her friend had sauntered off to the can.
"I thought we were going to party all night?" I responded with a saucy grin.
"It's your first night out...you're probably tired...want to go home," my friend countered. "You're married."
"No, its great Cath...I'm really having fun," I teased, making it tough for her.
"Shutup you!" she finally answered, then leaned over and whispered in my ear, "It's just he doesn't have his car tonight and..."
"You guys go, I'm okay."
"Are you sure Lizzie, you really don't mind?" Cathy asked. "We could drop you on the way," she offered but I knew she was hoping I'd say no.
"I'll grab a cab," I promised. "Now hurry up, your date's getting antsy," I said, nodding at her man waiting across the room. "He keeps looking at his watch."
"You're sure you don't want a ride?"
"I've already agreed to take Lizzie home," suddenly boomed out behind us in a deep male voice. The student's voice. Paul's voice.
"You have?" Cathy asked as she looked up and then slowly ran her eyes over my student from downstairs. And then, after turning to me with an inquisitive and maybe even approving smile, she accused, "So, you're still keeping secrets from your best friend, are you?"