She's Got You Pegged

Michael glanced at the phone. Sure, it was hot, but watching Meghan was something completely different. It was disturbing and sensual all at once, he almost wanted it to stop. He wanted to ask her what had she done with the Meghan he'd known all these years. If she stopped now though, he knew he'd never stop jacking off to the fantasy of watching her if it didn't continue.

Meghan kept her perfect timing and her perfect thrust and retreat. Her fingers wound around her breasts and her thighs kept the rhythm to match the man on the screen. Fuck, that's what it was, this hot, gripping sensation in his belly. It was envy and Michael whispered, "Baby, please," but there was no reply.

Meghan's tits, bare and bouncing; Meghan's hips jiggling and most importantly, the three receivers of all the pussy that she never gave him without a two drink minimum and never, never like this. Damn, she was beautiful. How could Michael have missed it, walking around with her in yoga pants, as if she weren't a goddess?

"God, yes," she cried out. She was far gone with her eyes glued to the screen and her body gyrating to the other husband's cock. She was slick with sweat and the sheen glistened in the light. Michael's forearm shook as he adjusted his aching, rock hard dick. He was just trying to stop himself from shooting off in his pants at this point. "Fuck me," his filthy wife moaned to the screen, "god yes, fuck me just like that."

Michael looked back at the screen and then back at her. A droplet of sweat ran down her face to her upper lip and when it slipped inside her mouth, Michael shook from head to toe. Was she asking him to fuck her like that? Or was it the muscle bound jock on the screen?

There wasn't time to sort that out because his wife moaned and quivered. Her hands gripped into little fists and she threw her head back. Her eyes were closed tightly and a tremor shook her hips. "Baby," Michael whispered as he watched, wishing that he was in on the whole thing. This must be an entirely different kind of orgasm than she had with him because she hadn't stopped quivering. His hand couldn't stop itself, his fingers darted out to touch her and he missed. The bed beneath her was soaked through.

Meghan was a dripping, wet mess.

She had saturated the bed and the comforter and her sweat and her juices permeated the air. Every thing was sweaty sex and pheromones and Michael was so thirsty for a taste. "Fuck!" she screamed as a stream of liquid shot out from between her legs.

Jesus Christ, the elusive female ejaculation. Michael was almost disappointed that no one else was in sight to witness this. He wanted to run his hands through the liquid, smell it and taste it, but most importantly, how to know how to make it happen again.

Meghan collapsed to the bed. She heaved and panted like a horse that had just been raced. Fucked in both holes, Michael winced as the thought took hold. He was jealous and sweaty from watching her. He had never been so close to the edge and denied. His balls were tight and full and what he should do was grab her and pull the toys out and decimate her pussy.

Jesus Christ, he should fuck her ass.

No more of this pushing him away and pulling down her tee shirt like she was some virginal school girl. Her butt was on the menu now and he'd been dying to try it ever since they met.

Meghan glowed. She turned to look at him and winked; she gave him a smile that he vaguely remembered from back when they were first dating. "Wow, I was kind of nervous about you watching," she said as she pulled her damp hair from her face. "You know, like it would be harder for me to cum? But it's even hotter."

That was right. He was supposed to be learning. She had gone to all this trouble because she wanted him to pay attention. Fuck, Michael thought as his eyes delved along every nook and cranny of his wife's beautiful body and realized that he'd neglected so many of them

"That was a good warmup," she continued as Meghan reached around behind her to withdraw the dildo that was completely hidden between her round cheeks.

"A warmup?" Michael didn't know whether to laugh or groan. Their running average, on those three, maybe four nights a year and when they fucked, was about fifteen minutes. "Really?" he whispered as he let his eyes study her slick skin and the oozing puddle under her. The scent of her cum filled the air and Michael could taste it at the back of his mouth.

Fifteen minutes must not even come close to satisfying her.

"Don't worry," his wife said as she placed the odd looking pink dildo that dripped with her fluids, back on the nightstand, "you get to help now."

"Do you even need my help?" he asked, he hadn't meant for it to sound so sad.

Meghan turned to face him and held Michael's face with two sticky hands. "No, no I don't," she was so close that her nipples almost touched his chest and Michael was sure that she could feel the head of his dick pounding for her. "I don't need your help anymore than you need mine. But I'd love it if we had this together, wouldn't you?"

He was melting. It was her touch and her scent and the nakedness that he usually only saw on the internet and suddenly it was all in his face and he nodded. "God yes, honey."

She gave him an impish, naughty smile and cocked her head. Meghan had never flirted, never did flirt, not with him and not with anyone else; but maybe he had this whole thing wrong. "Then you should get naked," his wife whispered and Michael felt a chill of excitement as a finger of pleasure wove down his body.

Meghan had never told him to get naked. Never, not once since sleeping with her and if anything was going to edge him perilously closer to spontaneous combustion, it was the thought that she wanted to see him completely bare too.

"Finally," he told her with a chuckle as he scrambled to get undressed. Michael started to unbutton quickly and then noticed that his wife stared at him. She looked at him with the same lusty gleam in her eye as she had for eight pack guy in her porn. Michael slowed down and felt the heat from his aching balls rise up his spine and with it brought a trail of goosebumps.

She wanted him.

She wanted him like Michael had always wished she did. In fact, Meghan bit her bottom lip a little as her eyes ran across his chest. Instinctively, he sucked in his gut and promised himself that he'd cut back on beer and pizza if she was going to fuck him like she had the pink toys. "Take it off," Meghan said and let her hands wind down her glistening belly and rest on her inner thighs.

He nodded, enraptured at the thought that Meghan might touch herself and watch him. With his shirt open, he pulled his arms out one at a time and flexed his biceps, just a little. He wanted to give her a little show. He flipped the loafers off and finagled with his socks and then it was time to show his gorgeous wife what she'd done to his dick. "I'm so fucking hard for you," he said it like he was already touching himself and he wanted to.

Michael flexed his forearm and growled and thought if it wasn't such a terrible waste of her dripping snatch, he'd grind one out for her, nice and slow and steady. If his dirty, little slut would like a close up, he'd even cum all over her face.

Meghan looked like she'd enjoy it with that smirk. "I want to see it," she parted her thighs just a little more and let a lazy index finger slowly outline her fat, juicy pussy lips. "Show me," she said dreamily.

Michael was happy to and opened his belt and zipper as quick as he could with his overly eager fingers. One glance up at her and her slow exploration and he swallowed down a moan as his dick lurched in his hand. He heard his change jingle when his slacks hit the floor. He was just heat and throbbing and the head of his cock expelled a long, clear liquid line all the way to the comforter. "That's what you do to me," Michael confessed and watched his cock nod in agreement. Yes exactly that.

His wife whispered, "Good," as she sat up, her eyes open wide at the sight of all of his pent up desire.

Michael pushed his boxers to his knees and he'd never been so big or so hard. Still, when comparing his equipment with the monstrosity that Meghan had just fucked herself with, he felt a little on the inadequate side. "Do you still want me?" he reached out and caressed her thigh. He meant did she still want him in spite of the rigorous fucking she'd already had but then again, maybe he really meant something much deeper.

Meghan rose to her knees and her mouth was as wet as her pussy when her tongue licked his bottom lip in a slow lap. Just a taste, just a nibble and he felt like Meghan was just getting her appetite back "Yes I want you," she murmured before pressing her entire body into his as they kissed. She whimpered into his open mouth as their tongues collided. Fuck, where were these kisses all this time? She rubbed her velvety bare body on his. His wife dripped cum on his thigh as her mouth relented and melted and gave itself over to his tongue. He'd conquered her; he'd filled her with his tongue and his breath. Now, it was onto his painfully erect cock.

Meghan released him and let out a satisfied purr. "Yes I want you," she told him once more and moved around his body. She inspected him, she ran her hands along the expanse of his shoulders. She explored him, down the sweaty pudge along his right side and up the other flexed thigh. He was something to be admired, lusted after, her gaze was heated and her breath was a sigh.

"Fuck yes," she added in a voice that was pure porn as she came around back. Her breasts were pressed against his ribs and her bare legs touched the back of his thighs. "I want this cock " she said in a throaty whisper, her breath on his tricep.

He was like a piece of meat.

He was a hard dick for her pleasure. She didn't want to talk. Meghan hadn't once asked him to hold her. His wife slapped his ass with one hand and Michael quivered down to his toes. He was drawn up tight, wound up inside. His cock danced for her and leaked. His flesh begged for her body as she touched his ass. Michael felt her pink, used pussy lips against him. She wet him on the underneath side of one cheek and it sent an electrical impulse through his body.

It was sensory overload and when his wife squirted some lube in one hand, Michael thought he'd blow his wad just watching if she played with herself again. He wouldn't even have a chance to touch her, it would be instant oblivion.

"Give me that dick," Meghan told him and she would have sounded bossy if it weren't so hot. With her greased up hand, she stroked his dick the full length from root to tip. She'd never touched him like this. Never with this firm, authoritative grip that told him she knew just what he needed. This slow hand that rocked his body and made Michael tremble with her carnal knowledge.

"Fuck, Meghan," he whimpered like a puppy as she jacked him off. Dear god, she was good at this, Michael thought as he looked down. He watched her and pumped back and forth. His balls churned and drew up higher and tighter and Michael had absolutely no say so about slowing down or waiting until he was at least in her mouth. "Baby, I can't wait to fuck you," he whispered the reminder, his hands clenched at his sides. He didn't want to add please, he didn't want to make it obvious. Jesus, he was already on his knees.

"I know honey," Meghan told him as she slid a lubricated finger up his crack. She sent sizzles along his oh so sensitive perineum and he couldn't hold back the needy grunt that came from a secret place that wives didn't know about. Almost as if she could read his mind, Meghan added, "I know exactly what you want, baby."

She slowed her hand down on his dick and firmed her grip. Michael hoped he didn't let it spill. He hoped that he didn't beg her but he couldn't even catch his breath. He was powerless to do anything else but push his body into it and then pull back. It was at that moment when her finger made a circle around his asshole that Michael couldn't hold back one more second.

"God, yes," it was a prayer and a plea and when she teased him back and forth over his opening, Michael felt his knees tremble. His dick throbbed and there was fire in his veins. Every touch was molten lava and he felt his mouth open but no sound came out. If she just could have heard the beating of his heart.

Meghan fingered him.

Fuck, she didn't hesitate. There was no slow burning tease, no prolonged courting period. She pushed her middle finger all the way inside his asshole and before Michael could even cry out for joy, she joined it with her index finger. It was almost scary, not just how good it felt but how easily she'd known.

Had she always known?

He was so full and when the two fingers tapped in the rhythm that he'd never quite found alone, Michael had to prop himself up with one fist on the mattress. He realized that he'd made his own wet spot as he touched the comforter. He pushed his ass back and fucked her fingers back. He took them as deep as she wanted before thrusting back into her hand. The pleasure was dizzying. That was why he couldn't stop the words that fell from his lips. "God yes, fuck me, fuck my ass, yes, that feels so good." The orgasm was there, on the line, so close to exploding and yet, it was all under his wife's control. His balls pulsed in his sack and his wife had made his dick swell. His slit was open and drooling as his ass pulsed around the invasion.

Getting fucked was heaven and Michael screamed when the first burst of the climax came forth. On his hands and knees, he came and moaned and begged like never before. His ass swallowed Meghan's fingers as he drooled and moaned, "Fuck me, baby, fuck me." The pleasure rolled down his body, from the back of his neck to his pointed toes.

There was cum everywhere.

The bed was soaked with it and the smell of salt and musk and bleach was a new perfume that overtook the soft, floral scent of candles. One last gulp escaped from his softening dick and Michael lost his grip. He slipped into the puddle of his climax, face first. There was a little on his lip and he didn't turn away. He was too exhausted to move. The tremors continued to ride his body. Her fingers were still inside and she kissed the back of his neck as she released him slowly.

Michael closed his eyes and could hear the involuntary hums of pleasure that came from deep inside. Jesus Christ, when was the last time he'd cum like that? Never, he was fairly certain was the answer.

And Meghan, where did his conservative, suburban housewife; the woman who wouldn't pee with the door open, the woman who wouldn't let the kids go on YouTube without her watching, where did she learn that?

Oh right, porn.

"Wow," he drawled it out to be more than one syllable. "What was that, baby?" She bent over him, her black tendrils dangled in his face. Meghan sweat on him. A salty droplet careened down her neck and dripped on lip. It wasn't until he felt the splash that he remembered. "Shit, I came and I didn't even fuck you," Michael didn't want it to sound like an accusation. It wasn't Meghan's fault that she was secretly the hottest woman alive.

She chuckled, a deep throaty laugh that he rarely heard. She only did it when she was thinking something wildly inappropriate. "Don't worry, cowboy," she slapped his chest lightly and left her hand to rest there on his heart. "There's a lot more fucking where that came from."

Jesus, he was glad she thought so. It was nice that she had so much confidence in his ability. He'd hate to have to watch her finish herself off with the two pink cocks; the twins, he had already dubbed them and smiled at his own private joke. Then again, watching her do that again might just put the spring back in his step. After an orgasm like this one, Michael felt confident that he'd keep it up all night if there was a round two. All he had to do was get hard one more time.

He hardly could have any more jizz after that, could he?

"So what would you like me to do for you?" Michael asked and pushed her lovely, wild hair from her face. Meghan was a beauty and how could he walk past her a million times and not stop and drink her in? It was so obvious, with her dark, hazel eyes; her high, elegant cheekbones; her full, rosebud mouth. She was meant to be lingered over and touched all night and somehow between the office and the kids, he'd forgotten that there was a time when all he wanted was to stay up all night and stare at her.

She'd probably want a foot rub, maybe a soak in the tub? He was hungry, they could take a break and get a pizza. Michael hesitated to do something that ordinary though. He felt as if they left this room the magic might fade away as well.

"I got you something," Meghan smiled and reached over his slumped body. The box was purple and his wife handed it over with a smirk. "Happy Valentine's Day," Meghan said.

Dammit, he knew that he should have gotten some last minute flowers. Michael opened the flap and pulled the container from the cardboard. It was a dick. It was a flesh colored, erect cock with a veiny shaft and a large, meaty head. "Jesus," he muttered as he touched the thing. It wasn't as long as the enormous pink thing that Meghan fucked herself with but it had weight to it.

Michael pulled the cock from the enclosure. It was made of spongy material and with the lights off and at body temperature, it could have passed for a man. The cock was attached to a black harness with a system of buckles to hold it in place.

"Wait," he paused and withdrew his hand as if the dick burned. "This is for you to use on me?" The thought was frightening and simultaneously too hot not to want, which made it slightly terrifying.

"Shh," Meghan's lips were wet looking and drawn up in a bow as she shushed him. "Just relax honey," she told him as she removed the cock and harness from the box. "Just go with it."

Fuck, just go with it.

Hadn't he used that line on her a few times? Michael had said that with his wife, the Meghan that he was familiar with, the one who waved his hands off, the one who said she had cramps, the Meghan who kept her pussy on lockdown. He was being hypnotized. Her nimble little fingers moved around her hips and the straps were loosened and then tightened and the back of the harness hugged her curvy, toned bottom so well that Michael felt an impossible twinge in his cock.

Go with it, the voice in his head said. It's okay that she looks sexy with a big, hard dick.

She really did.

Shit, Michael sat in the enormous wet spot that he'd made moments ago and his eyes didn't stop moving. It was all exquisite and he'd been so hungry for so long. Meghan's nipples were stiff, little buds just inches away from his mouth. Her skin was a speckled pattern of light and shadow from the candlelight. Her tiny waist was hidden in darkness and her round hips were illuminated. Her hips were strapped into the harness. There were two black bands that wrapped around her body and hugged her close. The bands brought the black base up to hide her beautiful, splayed pussy lips from sight. Now the dick was where her luscious, little snatch had been and Michael wasn't sure how he felt about that.

His dick had made up its mind though and even mostly soft, he felt the surge inside, an impending hard on was on the horizon. "What do you think?" she asked as she bent her right leg and gave him a closer look. She was all curves and soft flesh and then the dick was juxtaposed in the middle of all that feminine flow; the hard line in the center of her free form.

"I think," he exhaled and looked up into her eyes, "I think you look good like that," Michael admitted.

"I thought you'd like it," she said as she reached under his pillow. She was just full of surprises tonight and he glanced over at the bottle that she shook for him. There was a strawberry on the front and suddenly it made sense. As if she realized it all simultaneously, Meghan added, "this is yummy."