I stirred as light shifted and the shadows danced on the ceiling. Thoughts incoherent. Cold. Foreign. Conversations with invisible friends, flashes of flesh on flesh, a woman’s cry, a man’s grunt. My cry. His voice. Stirring again. Fingers touching me – slowly, up my thigh, lightly across my labia. Warmth on a nipple. I hear a gasp. It sounds familiar. It’s mine. My nipple cold now. Visions of a saliva trail and the air hitting wet skin. Finger tracing my lips. I’m moved. Covers being pulled over me. I curl up into the fetal position. Warmth enveloping. Warm lips on my forehead. And two words whispered.
I awoke under the floral comforter in Brad and Naomi’s guest room. I hadn’t remembered falling asleep. The last thing I remembered was the sound of his voice, telling me to come and my explosive orgasm that followed.
I didn’t know what time it was, but it felt early. I looked around the room. There was a door leading into the adjacent bathroom. Rolling out of the bed, I walked over and grabbed a towel off the rack. It was normal-sized, meaning i could either get it around my hips or my tits, but not both.
I fastened the towel underneath my armpit and left the opening on the side, and quietly stepped out of the room to investigate.
There was a large grandfather clock in the living room. It was just after 6AM. We hadn’t left the club until almost 2, which meant I’d slept probably less than three hours.
With a sigh I walked over toward the kitchen and located the coffee machine. I felt odd going through their cabinets, but…
“It’s to the left.”
His voice startled me. I turned around abruptly and nearly dropped the towel.
“Sorry, I….,” my voice trailed off as I took in the sight of him. He was wearing boxer briefs. I’d never seen him without a shirt on. He was…breathtaking. As I dropped my gaze, I saw the hint of what Naomi had mentioned in the restaurant.
I felt the blush. He walked toward me and came up right in front of me, then with his left arm reached over and opened the cupboard behind me. I was trapped between him and the counter with nothing but his boxer briefs and a “normal sized” towel between us.
“French roast okay?”
I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded.
He moved away and I exhaled. “Sorry if I woke you.” I kept my voice low as I re-tucked the towel under my arm.
“You didn’t,” he responded. “Not exactly.” His back was to me now, as he filled the coffee maker with water. The view was good from the back. I imagined the sight of the muscles on the backs of his thighs straining as he plunged in and out of me….
I must have made a noise, because he turned around with a curious expression.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“I …uh….think it’s best if I keep those to myself for now.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re going to get shy on me now.”
I flashed on the night before. Spreading my legs and touching myself while he watched. The sound of Naomi’s cries as he ….whatever it was he was doing to her. He sounded like an animal. I bit my lip.
I wanted him. There was no denying it. This entire dance I’d thought I was leading, and suddenly I found myself wanting to be ravaged against his kitchen counter while his wife slept in the bedroom.
It felt so wrong. Because he wasn’t in on it. Because he’d be cheating, in his own mind, not knowing it was exactly what his wife wanted.
But I could see the growing bulge in his boxers as he watched me. He wanted it, too. I could swear his eyes were ordering me to drop the towel. I silently begged for him to say the words. To let me know that my instinct was right. He said nothing and just watched me.
I dropped the towel.
And then I dropped to my knees.
“Crawl over here and take it out,” he said very calmly.
I looked up at him. “Are you sure?”
He didn’t respond. He just watched me.
I crawled over on the tile floor, dragging the towel with me. When I was in front of him, I set it out and knelt on it. I reached up to pull down his boxers.
“Hands behind your back.”
I licked my lips. Was this really happening? I sat up on my knees and grazed my lips against his lower abdomen. I felt the hair beneath his bellybutton tickle my nose. I kissed him there. Then lower. Then, using my nose to push inward, grabbed his boxers with my teeth and started pulling down. I did the same on each side of his hips, kissing at his flesh before pulling down.
When I’d gotten the boxes down to his mid thigh and his cock sprang up above the waistband, I gasped.
“She’d told me that’s what finally got you in.”
I looked up, confused. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I’ll explain later,” he added. “Let’s test drive that mouth of yours before I fuck the rest of you, shall we?”
I didn’t have time to think. His hand was in my hair and his cock was in my mouth before I knew what was happening. It tasted fresh. He must have showered after last night. Or this morning…
He said I hadn’t woken him up, exactly.
He pulled me up by the hair and pushed me over to the kitchen island, bending me over until my breasts were flat against the cold granite. One, then two fingers probed between my legs, pressing my labia apart and letting out the flood of wetness that had been pooling. “You ready to take that big fat cock now?”
“Yes, please!” I responded. He grabbed a condom out of the drawer in the island. Convenient, I thought.
Just as my cunt stretched around it, I thought of his words.
Big Fat Cock. Oh, fuck he felt good. She’d told me that’s what finally got you in. When had she…?
I smile at the thought of him sticking his big fat cock into somebody else and imagining her reaction.
Oh. My. God.
He was fucking me at full thrust now. My orgasm was building. There was no holding back, there was no asking for permission.
There was no keeping my voice down.
I exploded first and his orgasm followed. When it was over, We lay still, him still inside me, for moments after – heartbeats coming back down to normal. The coffeemaker beeped and I heard liquid pouring.
“Good morning, lovelies.” It was Naomi. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. I hope you liked your present.”
He pulled out of me and turned me around, planting a soft kiss on my lips.
“She’s perfect, darling. Thank you.”
Phi is an erotic fiction writer. Phi (pronounced “fee”) came into kink at early age and renewed her connection with the lifestyle in 2014 after a decade-long hiatus. A somewhat popular and undeniably avid blogger on fetlife.com under the name phi-is-me, phi lives in the suburb of a suburb in southern California with two cats and six pillows.
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