tagLoving WivesPure Lust and True Love

Pure Lust and True Love

bySarishepard©

Cohen Xavier couldn't believe his luck. It was only his second day at the Soleil Magenta Singles Resort, and he'd been propositioned by a gorgeous blonde in her early thirties named Krissi. She was tall and slender, with deep blue eyes and full, shining lips. He watched her backside sway beneath her emerald green dress as she clopped away in tall white heels. The fact that she was out of his league registered only in the deepest recesses of his conscience—along with the fact that she didn't bother hiding her wedding rings.

Dropping twenty dollars on the bar, he stood and pulled his jacket off the back of the bar chair. He had an hour before eight o'clock, when he was supposed to meet her in her room. A shower and a change of clothes were in order. She was gorgeous, and he wanted to give no less than a stellar performance.

Glancing to the back of the lounge, her long blonde hair caught his eye. She sat with a man and another woman, who he presumed to be a couple. Krissi caught him looking and smiled, gesturing him over. Cohen figured it was best not to disappoint her, so he obliged.

"This is him," she bubbled as he approached. "Sit for a sec, handsome."

Cohen sat and extended his hand to the man of perhaps forty years. "I'm Cohen," he offered.

"Garret," answered the man. "I'm Krissi's husband."

"Whuh-what? Oh no...no. I don't need this."

"Relax," insisted Garret. "This must be your first time here."

"Maybe, but I don't need to get in the middle of—"

"You saw her rings, I'm sure."

"W-well, yeah," he stuttered. "B-but I-I—"

"Chill out," sassed Krissi. "Garret isn't gonna butt in. He's gonna be with Tina."

The red-haired woman grasped Garret's hand and offered a shy smile. She was perhaps a few years older than Krissi and almost as stunning. Garret put an arm around Tina and explained, "It's a deal Krissi and I made before we got married. We met here at Soleil Magenta. Every year, we come back for a week and allow each other one fling...one night only. It keeps us honest the rest of the year."

"You cheat to stay honest?"

"It makes sense if you think about it," answered Krissi, rubbing his thigh.

Blood rushed to Cohen's groin as he peered at her smiling lips. They would soon be wrapping around some lucky man's cock, he realized. It may as well be his.

Garret leaned toward him. "Tina and I will be in a room on the west side," he explained. "We do our own thing, separate and apart. You have my blessing to show Krissi a good time, but I don't want to know about it. If that's not good enough, I'm sure she can find someone else."

"No," agreed Cohen, standing up. "When you put it that way. I guess I should thank you." Turning to Krissi he promised, "See you at eight."

Heading for the lobby, Cohen heard the clopping of Krissi's shoes behind him. He stopped as she caught up and handed him a folded paper. "Just a change of venue," she peeped playfully. "I got a bigger room."

"A bigger room?" he asked. "Why?"

"You'll see," she teased. "See you at eight."

Cohen was prompt. His cheeks flushed with warmth as he rapped on the door. He gasped as Krissi answered in a sheer, white satin nightgown hemmed at mid-thigh. "Follow me," she sang, strutting barefoot on the plush red and gold carpet into the living area.

His pulse pounded as he rushed to catch up, but rounding the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks as a bolt of shock shot through him. It was suddenly more than evident why Krissi had gotten a bigger room. Sitting on the white sofas and chairs around the posh suite were no less than a dozen beefy men, wearing only white cotton pants. Some were black, some white, and others Milano, but all were young and ripped. "Dare I ask?" he inquired.

"It's a bit easier for a girl to round up a play date," she admitted, bending one knee in a playful pose. "Ross is with security. He got me the room. I met Darren and Cyrus last night at a volleyball game, Josh, Hector, and Tyrell work at the hotel. Everyone else is one of their friends...except for Jake."

"Drake," retorted the young man.

"Whatever," she jested. "I met him on the way up."

"So you just invited me to parade in front of your husband."

"Kinda," she confessed, tossing him a pair of loose-fitting bottoms. "But you're welcome to stay. I'll be busy, but I'll find time for you."

"I guess I can free up my schedule," he quipped, finding a seat as five of the men stepped forward.

Cohen held his breath as she dropped her nightgown, revealing firm, ample breasts. Her waist cambered to a delightful re-curve over her hips, between which sat the bump of her firm tummy, adorned by the pea-size pit of her navel. She smiled and hooked her thumbs beneath her panties. The five gathered around her as she tugged the dainty garment over her thighs and stepped out of it. A well-trimmed triangle of golden scruff marked her pubic crown, wedged in the confluence of her fit pelvis and the tops of her long, lanky legs.

Krissi knelt and sat back on her heels as the men dropped their pants. She dunked over the meaty shaft in the middle, stroking the ones on either side with each hand. Cohen fought to keep his hand off his own crotch as he watched her full, blonde mane dance before the men's laps. His raging hard-on stood in his thin cotton pants like a warm steel pipe.

Men surrounded the bed as Krissi climbed onto the mattress on her hands and knees, bobbing over Darren's bone-hard offering while Hector thrust in and out of her from behind. Twisting to the left, she lolled her tongue over Drake's throbbing bulb as she stroked Ross. As she turned her attention to Darren again, he let out a groan. His meat thumped between her lips, then pulsed along its underside as he bellowed. Krissi hummed, swallowed, and hummed again as Hector pressed his pelvis against her buttocks and locked his hips.

Cohen vied for position, but ten minutes later, he was still a spectator. Pearly ribbons dripped from Krissi's seed-laden inners, soaking the sheets beneath her oozing crevice. Her lips glowed with mixed lineage as one chiseled cock after another heaved its viscous brew between them.

The scent of male pheromones filled the air as Krissi straddled Tyrell, facing away from him. She dropped her living sheath over his brazen turret, leaving only his balls dangling beneath her cum-laden slit. A glistening glaze coated the dark skin of his staff as she rose. It dribbled over Tyrell's sac, but her golden scruff wiped it off as she dropped again and ground her hips.

Josh and some other guy stood on the bed to each side of her. She turned her head from side to side—alternating dunks and bobs over their stiff rods. To her right, Josh groaned as she licked his knob. Pearly jets splashed off her lips, running over her chin and dripping onto her breasts and tummy in shimmering streams.

Looking down over her striped torso, Krissi cupped Tyrell's swollen sac and kneaded it with her fingers. Tyrell grasped her waist and held her down over his pelvis. He let out a wail as his hilt twitched in rhythmic ripples and the outline of his balls became visible. His spent jewels dropped low as the transfer completed.

Cohen gaped at her labia, wrapping the dark girth between them so as to seal the inseminating produce in her depths. He pictured the billions of sperm teeming inside her—swimming madly alongside rivals of a half dozen pedigrees in competition to breach her cervix and amalgamate.

With an emboldening grunt, Cohen pushed his way to the edge of the bed as Krissi rolled onto her back and spread wide for a beefy, bronze-skinned hunk. The youthful man held her ankles in his hands, arms outstretched as his beefy piston reamed the tissues of her pelvic playground. She peeped to the cadence of his balls slapping against her buttocks. Her legs rocked back and forth as his hips smacked the backs of her thighs. Raising his chin, he growled a hardy groan as he added his pedigree to the pool of proteins in her carnal cavity.

As Curtis started to climb on the bed, Cohen grabbed his arm. "Wait, dammit," he insisted.

"I aint had her either," snapped Curtis. "She can take both of us."

"I said wait!" he snapped, kneeling beside her. "Everyone's going at her, but no one's pleased her. Just give me a minute."

A strong hand grabbed Cohen's shoulder from behind. "Share or move," urged a deep male voice.

A warm flush of confidence washed over him as he grasped the beefy paw and pushed it off. "I mean it," he warned. "Back off. No one even bothered to try making her come. Everyone just chill for a minute."

Krissi sang a song-filled note as Cohen circled her clitoris with his middle finger. He peered into her eyes, through her blowtorch-blue irises and into the points of her pupils, searching for the mechanism that invited a hoard of men to know her inner secret. He thought he caught a glimpse as she gazed back, squeezing his wrist and widening her spread. Her brows rose high and her mouth opened wide. She squealed as her tummy contracted and a stream of thankful reward arced from her gaping crevice, followed by a second and third. "Get in me!" she begged. "Please get in me!"

As Cohen climbed between her long, alabaster legs, a gob of viscous white brew dripped out of her well-sated slit and into the cleft of her buttocks. Pressing his throbbing bulb between her semen-glazed ass cheeks, he swathed it back up and into her gaping gash. She cooed as he sank his engorged knob into the gooey warmth of her entrance to ecstasy. As his blunt head bathed in a concoction too convoluted to distinguish, he wondered how her pubic grasp could seal his cock in such a tight wrap after such a reaming. With a quick adjusting shim, he thrust forward through her sperm-washed walls and buried his entirety in the private vault she had opened to the public.

Curtis climbed beside her, but she ignored his wagging wand as Cohen broke into measure. Again her brows raised, and a song of elation escaped her. Widening her spread, she pulled his back tight against her thighs as her inner architecture clasped him tight. Again she sang out, spraying his balls in several prolonged gushes that poured onto the sheets below.

Krissi peered into Cohen's eyes. Her lower lip trembled as she tried to speak. Cohen ceased his motion and fell forward onto his hands, his shaft buried in the wrap of her velvety warmth. Her breath reeked of sperm as she brought her lips to his ear, yet it wafted like precious puffs of enchantment as she whispered, "I want to stay with you tonight. I want you to make love to me."

Cohen nodded and straightened his elbows. Krissi smiled and squeezed her legs tight around his waist. "Now come in me," she purred.

As Cohen resumed his thrusts, she turned her head to the right and wrapped her lips around Curtis' begging bulb. Pangs of elation tingled through Cohen's manhood as he increased his pace. Krissi stopped bobbing as Curtis grunted. A dribble of cum escaped the corner of her mouth as she gulped. Cohen pictured it passing down her gullet to be ingested along with so many other loads.

Krissi looked up at Cohen and moaned with her mouth agape. Peering at the glossy sheen on her lips and tongue augmented the carnal chaos imprinting on his conscience. The thought of her sleeping in his arms as her body processed so many proteins sent a twang of unabated bliss bolting through him. It culminated in a jolt that widened her eyes as he burst his opening salvo into her heavenly hollow.

Cohen let out a wanton wail as pulse after tingling pulse thumped through his buried cock in successive volleys, sowing her intimate cavity with his lust-driven bid. Krissi lifted her head and squealed as he irrigated her inners with the fruit of his loins. She gazed into his eyes like a stabbing victim, then dropped to the mattress like a ragdoll as his spurts faded. His balls lay resting on her buttocks as he sensed the warmth of his seed in her intimate challis. Looking around the room, he noticed half the men had already left.

****

Krissi made good on her promise to stay the night with him. Wearing only a terrycloth robe, she held his hand through the corridor and onto the elevator. Cohen wore the white pajama bottoms and his unbuttoned shirt. Once in his room, he lay on the bed, waiting as she showered. But the excitement of the day left him with an exhaustion that overrode his anticipation. Meaning only to rest his eyes, he fell asleep before she came out.

He awoke to the moist warmth of her mouth and the gentle lolling of her tongue beneath his knob. Krissi seemed different, though. She wasn't showing off or performing, but rather loving him with her mouth—gliding her glossy lips up and down over his manhood. Her cheek quivered from the playful attention she paid to his engorged bulb beneath it. He soon let out a whimper, ready to burst forth a swath of seed onto her twiddling tongue.

"Not this time," she chimed, releasing his chiseled staff and climbing face to face with him. "I spent an hour getting the taste of cum out of my mouth."

"Decided you don't like it?"

"I love it," she purred. "But I figure you don't."

Before he could respond, her lips were pressed against his. Their tongues met in a ritual far deeper than their previous encounter. His conscience swirled in a problematic melee, but there was no doubt he would answer her call.

Her lips tasted of cherry and her skin smelled of jasmine in a summer breeze. Her soft, warm palms rubbed his chest as her lanky fingers gently scratched, sending shivers up and down his spine. As he raked his fingers through the flaxen shimmers of her mane, she lifted her chin and offered her neck.

Kissing his way down her torso, he sucked her nipples erect, working his middle finger into the slick warmth of her clench. Gone was the slippery sperm of other men. The aromatic scent of feminine nectar caressed his olfactory sense, begging him to delight in her taste.

Krissi cooed as he parted her labial gate with his wiggling tongue and bathed his taste buds in her oozing honey. She bucked and rolled her hips as he dashed her love button. He licked and lashed until his tired tongue hit its mark. With a needy peep, she gushed a fountain of delight over his cheeks, chin and neck. It dripped onto the sheets—the sole stain on the fresh linen. "Enjoy me," she whispered, rolling onto her hands and knees.

Cohen pressed his throbbing pole into battery and breached her pubic clench to a moan of encouragement. The skin of her waist suddenly seemed too magical for his common hands. His heart pounded in his chest as he slid to half-depth, basting his aching cock in the rich lube of her lining. She sang a joyful note as he broke into measure.

Indeed, all was different. Her love channel's welcoming ointments offered an enchantment no amount of semen could rival. The wrap of her velveteen hug seemed all the tighter without ribbons of cum gushing over her apex. Again, the tingling voltage of imminent orgasm crackled through his manly prowess. He knew her bewitching charm could bring him over ecstasy's edge many times before the night was through, but he wanted to look into her deep blue eyes as he seeded her pelvic garden. Moreover, he wanted to kiss her.

She giggled as he rolled onto his back. Straddling his hips, she let out a playful peep, but sliding her oozing heat over his living lance, she made his heart skip a beat by whispering, "Love me, Cohen."

He stammered for a response, but her mouth was locked with his before he made a noise. Her soft breath tickled his cheek like dreamland's gentlest breeze as their tongues danced. Breaking their lip lock, she stroked his forehead and said it again with a subtle caveat. "Love me," she pleaded. "Just for tonight, let me feel what it's like."

Cohen nodded, unable to find words.

Riding him in slow rhythm, she explained, "Year after year the crowd grows. I took a dozen men tonight, trying to feel it."

"Feel...orgasm?"

"I can have an orgasm with a vibrator," she confessed. "That's what I do most of the year. But I've never felt someone's desire to bring me there...his fervent insistence to assure my satisfaction, never. You filled me with lustful passion, but you showed a humble appreciation for my spirit."

"So why? Why the—"

"Gangbang? Why'd I pull a train?" She rocked her pelvis, enveloping his length and pressing the heat of her vestibule against his sac. "I'll explain later," she promised. Again she opened the world behind her pupils to his gaping gaze. She kissed him as her inners squeezed his girth and thankful wash cascaded over his jewels. "Plant your seed in me," she begged, brushing her lips against his. "Fill me with loving seed."

Time seemed to slow as she erected herself over him. Again he peered at her navel, picturing the tissues beneath it. But he no longer saw her precious vessel as a repository for lustful breeding. Only the image of his own seed registered in his conscience, striving to breach her cervical door and gain entry to her time machine.

He sensed a vacuum in the space around him as twangs of rapture rippled through his manhood. Tightening his grasp on her hips, he began a long, low moan that transformed to a hybrid sound—a blend of opera singer and foghorn. For the briefest moment, he saw the Engrain of the Supreme Architect in her idyllic proportions. A wave of nirvana washed through him as he realized he hadn't yet erupted.

That changed in the next second. A glorious pulse of passion sprayed a viscous volley through the parted tissues of her inner passage. A bevy of incredulity followed as jet after bliss-driven jet flooded her inner paradise in a deluge of unabated passion. He sensed his shaft swelling and contracting in the clasp of her oozing clinch as she joined him in song—her eyes seeming to register each salvo.

Falling forward onto her elbows, she ran her fingers through his hair. "You're so much more," she chimed.

"More than what?" he asked catching his breath.

"More than the only thing I've ever needed." She climbed beside him and snuggled up to his shoulder.

Cohen's mind raced as she rubbed his chest. He imagined running away with her—moving to some remote place and starting anew. He saw pictures of Krissi working a homestead garden, with a Labrador Retriever by her side. Minutes later, she stopped rubbing and let out a gentle snore—a precious, gentle hum from her nasal cavity.

For an hour, Cohen lay awake, trying to ignore his ambitions by thinking instead of the proteins of so many men coursing through her. But thoughts of her obviously unhappy existence haunted him. Finally, he drifted off to a light sleep.

He awoke to the dim light of the bathroom lamp shining through the half-open door. As he sat on the side of the bed, Krissi came out in her robe and kissed him on the forehead. "You gave me everything I asked for," she tendered, brushing his cheek with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry you and I can never be." Her gaze followed her finger as she touched his lips.

Cohen kissed her finger. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"I've seen people try," she lamented, sitting beside him. "They fall in love overnight and decide to fight the myriad of truths that put them where they are. They wind up on some homestead, sustenance farming with a Labrador Retriever by their side. They wind up hating each other. I don't want you to hate me, Cohen."

"You said you'd explain—"

"Not much to explain," she admitted, looking into her lap. Drawing in a deep breath, she interlaced her fingers and huffed. "Pure lust," she admitted. "But that's only half of it. I don't think I'll ever know the other half." She kissed his cheek and stood. "Please don't forget me," she requested, picking up her bag of clothes.

"I won't. I promise."

Krissi ruffled his hair and turned to leave. She offered a sad smile before closing the door.

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