Walt and Rhonda Ch. 03

When she returned he had put his pants on, and she felt a moment of dismay that the lovely vehicle of her delight was hidden from view. "I guess it's time for me to go," she said.

"I guess," he replied. "I'm not rushing you, i..."

"No really, I have to go, it's late. I've got to get home." He stopped dressing, looked at her, and she felt his eyes memorizing her naked body. Standing there exposed for his view, she felt sexy, desired, and a complete woman.

"To your husband."

"Yes, my husband, who I love dearly." Saying that, she felt his cum drip from her pussy, despite her efforts to clean up in the bathroom. He was considering her with something like disbelief. "I do love him, you know. With all my heart." She didn't feel guilt saying that to a man she'd just fucked and sucked, and wondered why.

He shook his head slightly, and resumed dressing. "I don't really understand that," he said, and she didn't reply, just watched him dress, naked, dripping his cum from her stretched cunt. I don't really understand it myself, she thought. I wonder if I ever will? She brushed hair behind her ear as he stood, and escorted her to the door to retrieve her clothes, and he watched her dress. Would Walt understand? She doubted it, she thought, as she took her purse and headed for the door.

When he dropped her back at her car, there was only a light kiss, no tongues or groping. No passionate goodbye. She thanked him for a wonderful time, and he nodded, thanking her in return, looking confused. She looked for the light in his eyes, the devilish curl of his lips that had entranced her earlier, but they were not there. The crinkle was still there in the corner of his eye, and the smile was still nice, but the attraction, the irresistible need, where was that? Was it ever really there, she wondered. Or was that something in her head, or in her pussy, that had made him look that way?

She drove home, reliving the powerful passion of the previous hours in her head, and thought of Walt. She had betrayed him a second time. She did love him, she knew she did, he was the only man she could ever love, but she felt no guilt, no remorse. She could love only him, but she could fuck other men, and the idea frightened and excited her.

She didn't want to hurt him. But she knew she would do it again.