Penny's Promiscuity Ch. 18: Will Power

That last part wasn't strictly true. Once things had started; once Will's cock was in my mouth and my body was responding so powerfully, there was no way I would have let the evening end without feeling his cock inside me, letting him fuck me hard and if at all possible feeling him cum inside me.

But there was nothing to be gained from telling Pete this and I was pleased to see that my minor deception seemed to mollify his concerns considerably.

"I'm sorry. I know I can trust you," he eventually conceded once I had finished.

"Don't worry. It can't be easy for you to hear about your wife being unfaithful."

That was a complete and deliberate lie too; I knew full well how much my husband had enjoyed and had insisted on hearing every last detail about my infidelity with Darren. I hoped he would feel the same about my latest fucking by Will. I believed he would.

"Was it good? Did you enjoy it?" he asked after another of his annoying pauses.

"You really want to know?"

"Hold on a minute," he said.

There was a fumbling on the line and the creaking of bedsprings before Pete's voice returned.

"Sorry. I'm back now," he eventually said. "Now, was it good?"

"It was very good."

"What did he do?"

So I told him. Slowly and in intimate detail I told my husband about every step of my journey from angry frightened wife to unfaithful, inseminated slut. I dwelled especially on the way my youngest and most recent lover had seduced me; how he had overcome my initial reluctance; how he had kissed me, stripped me and fingered me so comprehensively.

"Jesus Penny that is so fucking hot!"

Pete's voice over the phone sounded even drunker but he was definitely getting aroused.

So I carried on; telling my husband vividly and with genuine emotion how Will had forced me to my knees; how I had touched, kissed and fondled his erect cock before taking it deep into my mouth and delivering the best blowjob I was capable of. I told him how the amazing sensations had made my body weep with lubrication as it prepared itself for the penetration that would inevitably follow.

"Did he cum? Did he cum in your mouth?" Pete demanded excitedly.

Behind his voice I could hear strange, rhythmic noises in the background.

"No. He pulled out just in time. Are you masturbating Pete?" I asked, my voice scolding.

"Go on," He urged, ignoring my question.

So I did. In clear, unambiguous words I told my husband of over twenty years how a boy young enough to be our son had positioned me in front of the mirror, bent me over until my face was on the counter then, both of us still standing, me in my heels, he had fucked the living daylights out of me from behind.

"Christ!" Pete grunted, the rhythmic noises louder and faster.

I told my husband how the young man's cock had felt as it entered my loose, middle-aged vagina; how it had slipped easily into my well-lubricated passage; how it had reached deep into my body until its head had battered the sealed cervix behind which Darren's baby was growing. I described how his young, strong body had driven that thick, rigid pole hard and fast into my flesh. Finally I told him how it had felt to reach my climax quickly and freely, my juices running down both our legs.

"Penny! Oh Jesus Penny!"

I brought my story to a climax by describing how Will had reached his own climax; how he had slammed hard into my buttocks; how his head had swollen inside me as the end came; how his peak had been reached and his tension broken; how he had pumped his youthful semen into my eager, orgasming body.

And all of this had been watched and matched by my own reflection only inches away from my face.

"Oh God I wish I could have seen it," My husband said breathlessly over the phone line. "Where are your panties?"

"Still in my sports bag."

"Save them for me!"

"Pete!"

"Please Penny!"

"Well, okay."

The soft noise in the background was getting louder and faster still.

"Are you. Still leaking. His cum?" my husband's voice was getting breathier still.

"Pete this is getting really crude."

"Are you still leaking his cum Penny?"

I opened my legs, ran my fingers over my inflamed vulva and brought them to my face. There was a thin film of sticky goo all over their tips and on my knuckles. My hand smelled disgustingly of semen and fish.

"Yes Pete. I'm still leaking. It's all over my inner thighs."

"Wipe it on your knickers for me."

"Jesus Pete!"

"Please Penny! I'm so clooooose!"

"Okay. They stink of sex, Pete. They stink of Will's cum and my juices and..."

"Oh my Goddd... Aaahhhhh!"

There was a loud sigh of relief over the phone which went on for several seconds and was followed by complete silence from my husband.

"Have you just cum Pete? Have you been masturbating as I told you all this?" I asked accusingly.

"That was amazing," was all the reply I received - that and some heavy breathing.

"So it seems," I replied.

A feeling of relief washed over me too. If Pete could actually masturbate to orgasm as I told him the story over the phone, surely he would be okay about it in real life when we were together again the following evening.

"You do realise that I've only bought him off temporarily, Pete," I said seriously.

"I understand," my husband replied, recovering his breath quickly.

"We're not safe yet. We still need to find a permanent solution."

"I get that too, but you don't think he's going to kiss and tell straight away?"

"I can't be certain but I don't think so," I confessed. "Basically he's just a nice lad with a naughty streak."

"Who likes MILFs?"

"Who likes MILFs," I agreed.

"And you're sure sex is all he wants? He didn't mention money at all?"

"He got really upset when I even suggested it."

Pete went silent for a minute before asking.

"Did he put any time pressure on you?"

"None," I replied. "I know he's got a girlfriend so presumably he's getting his end away there too."

"Penny! I've never heard you use that phrase before," Pete scolded.

This was perverse; my husband was happy for me to be fucked half senseless by a boy less than half my age but was shocked by my using a single coarse phrase.

"Sorry," I apologised in a voice that made it clear I was not at all sorry. "I'm still a bit delicate after being fucked so hard and cumming so many times."

Pete chose not to react to my deliberate jibe. It was his way of apologising.

"Would you do it again> If you had to stall for more time?" Pete asked.

Christ yes; in a heartbeat! I thought but did not say aloud. Instead I cautiously ventured:

"Only if you were okay about it. I don't want to start another affair."

I heard my husband snort down the phone.

"Neither of us wants that, right? But if it's necessary...?"

"Then I'll do what I need to do to keep us safe," I assured him. "Now, it's well after midnight, Pete. I need to go to sleep. I'm exhausted."

"I'm not surprised."

"And I have to get up at six thirty."

"I'm back on duty at eight thirty," he told me, his breathing still coming in soft pants. "Break-out groups."

I yawned both with tiredness and at the prospect of such a dull morning.

"Maybe sleeping on it will help. When will you be home tomorrow night?" I asked.

"About seven-thirty I think," he replied.

"I'll have dinner ready for eight. We can talk about the problem then."

"Okay Penn. And the bed ready for nine?" he asked cheekily.

"If we can wait that long," I said as sexily as I could. "And if you're up for it by then."

"I'll be up for it, don't worry," he laughed.

"You'd better be. My standards are getting higher all the time."

"You are such a slut, Penny Barker!" he growled. "And I love you for it. Goodnight!"

"I love you too," I replied as I pressed the red button on the handset.

***

I lay in the bath for a while, feeling the warm water soaking the sticky residues from my body, easing the aches and strains in my middle-aged muscles and wondering what my daughter wanted to talk about so late in the evening. She hadn't left a voice message but it was bound to be something to do with boys - it always was.

Had she been dumped by her new boyfriend Simon? She hadn't sounded upset enough for it to be that.

Had her old boyfriend Steve get back in touch? That seemed unlikely too

Whatever it was, I would call her back in the morning and find out. Right then I was so tired.

When I realised I had dozed off in the bath twice I hauled myself out, dried myself down then fell into bed, naked. There was little time to think about my evening before I fell into a deep sleep but I do remember Pete's words going over and over in my mind.

As I fell into the arms of Morpheus, my hands on my belly where Darren's baby was growing larger by the minute, I remember wondering how many husbands of serious, professional women in their fifties called their wives a slut before wishing them good night.

And I wondered how many such women deserved that name as much as I did.