sexstories.com

Introduction:

A pissed off wife decides to get her kicks without her hubby

She wouldn’t be there by herself if her asshole husband was worth a shit. She wasn’t planning on being there to begin with, but the pressure to fit in, and attend the annual company party, was intense. Her bitchy little boss hounded her a half-dozen times a week for the past month until she finally caved and made her RSVP. Of course, at the time, she wasn’t hating her hubby so much. He refused to come, put on the fake smiley face, play the game and pretend like their marriage was cool. It wasn’t. He wasn’t. She was pissed, and looking for any excuse to escape the place.

She was the junior member of the office team, 19 women and 3 men working the billings department for a very successful customs import broker. It was a decent place to work, but ripe with politics and clique-filled bullshit. She was glad when she found a seat near a couple of the friendlier ladies she worked with – one of them also without her husband for the night, one of them with her husband in tow. The three of them started a full-blown man-bashing conversation and the dutiful hubby there with them left to hang out with a group of guys by the open bar.

“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with him,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand “The least he could do was keep me company at this thing – it’s not like I was asking him to …”

As her comment, and thoughts of it, drifted off behind the blare of an amplified voice – she lifted her drink to her mouth and listened to the company president make a speech. Blah, Blah, Blah record profits – Blah, Blah team effort – Blah, Blah, Blah best year ever.

“I wonder if these guys know how boring they sound,” she smiled to herself as she pondered, getting the feeling that the alcohol was softening her anger. “Fuck it. This is a party and I’m going to find a way to enjoy myself even without that jackass!”

He walked up to the table behind her just as the group applause was fading, making a brief greeting to the other two women. She thought she felt someone there and turned just as he was getting ready to pull a seat out for himself. She smiled mildly as the VP of transportation made himself comfortable. He had been circling the room for the better part of the evening, stopping at each table to press the flesh and be a “hands-on” manager. This was the first time he sat down.

“You ladies are enjoying yourselves,” he half-asked, half-stated “I wanted to come by and personally thank you for all of your hard work this year.”

She just looked at him and nodded politely. Her thoughts were not about work – but about this guy’s neck and jaw line. She was privately noting that he seemed chiseled out of stone – very angular and taut. He wasn’t wiry like her husband, he was – for lack of a better word - thicker. She wondered if his neck muscles felt as hard as they looked. Then she noticed he had stopped talking and was staring back at her.

“I’m sorry – what?” she just realized that he must have asked her a question while she was mentally idling.

He grinned widely and leaned forward, “I said, would you like me to refresh that drink for you?”

She paused. What drink? Oh. The empty glass in her hand. Now she blushed realizing how ditzy she must have seemed as she stammered, “Oh, of course, yes – please.”

“What’s your poison?” He asked, reaching for the glass.

She turned to the other ladies and interrupted the whisper-fest they were engaged in. It didn’t register that they were giggling and chatting about her. She smiled at them, they smiled in return.

“What is this thing called you guys got for me again?” She furrowed her brow as she struggled to remember the name of the drink.

“Black Russian,” said the older of the two ladies.

“One more Black Russian, coming right up.” He was already out of his chair and headed towards the bar when she realized that she really didn’t want another drink. Of course, she wouldn’t mind watching his tight ass walking away from her a few more times either. She shook her head back and forth a bit, it didn’t help the light-headedness she felt.

“Are you going to be OK?” her soft-spoken office friend asked, “You look like you are less than refreshed by all these drinks.”

“I’ve only had a couple,” she defended herself as she straightened up in her chair to demonstrate that she had full command of her faculties “and I’m having a good time.”

He was laughing to himself as he returned with a drink in each hand. Shaking his head, his chuckling subsided just as he sat down and put her drink in her hand. She took it with both hands, cradling a napkin underneath.

“What’s so funny?” she smiled watching him smile.

“Nothing,” he looked down at his drink, then back up at her “nothing I would repeat in front of a lady.”

Smooth - she liked that. Now she had a real gentleman to keep her company for this party. She didn’t notice when her co-workers vacated the table, and she wouldn’t have cared. She watched her companion as he made business man small talk, watched him make serious faces when he wanted to ensure his point was being taken seriously. He got up and down from his seat a dozen times to greet people as they passed near the table, or those leaving for the night. She didn’t realize at the time that he never did go off to the bar again, but she had a fresh drink all night. She was not the type to be overly impressed by “powerful” men, but this one had her full attention.

She knew he was looking. He was trying to be clever about it, but a woman knows when a man is getting his glances in. She was worth looking at – tall, nearly 5’10” with medium length natural blonde hair. Her long legs were topped by a round ass, which in turn gave way to the slimmer waist of a healthy woman in her 20’s. But she knew, ever since middle school when they first sprouted, that her boobs were the main attraction. She had learned to be picky about choosing bras and clothes that held her 36C tits just right. She was blessed with perfectly proportioned, naturally rounded breasts that almost every male she ever met was mesmerized by. Feeling as relaxed as she was, she didn’t mind this kind of attention – in fact, she felt proud to be getting it.

“I hear you’re a real workhorse in the billing department,” this time he touched her knee as he spoke “they tell me you have great potential.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” she sipped her drink “I’m just doing my job the best I can.”

As she moved to set her drink down, she missed.

~ CRASH! ~

Much of the drink was gone, but the glass struck the leg of the table as it tumbled and shattered at their feet.

“Shit!” she exclaimed, pulling her feet towards her without getting up.

He grabbed a napkin off the table and began picking up the chunks of glass. After he got the biggest pieces, he took another napkin and brushed off his pant leg, although it was only lightly splattered. She didn’t flinch like she might have if she was sober when he folded the napkin over and leaned forward, pressing it onto her thigh where it was wet from the spill. He continued down her dress, over her knee and along the line of her calf – pressing enough to get the job done as well as enough to get a good feel of her firm muscles.

“Uh oh,” he said, never lifting his head as he tsk-tsked, “look at that shoe.”

She peered down to see the largest wet spot right across the straps of her best leather heels. She leaned down and un-strapped it, then the other, and set them both on the table.

“You shouldn’t do that, I didn’t get all the glass,” he warned as she crossed the wet leg over the dry one “last thing I need is for someone to get hurt tonight.”

“It’s about time for me to go anyway,” she said glancing off-handedly at the door, and wondering if he would take the bait.

“You’re here alone, and frankly,” he stared a serious stare “you’re in no condition to drive.”

“I’ll just sleep here.” Her hand waved over the table. She smiled and laughed a drunken, silly little laugh. The kind of laugh that comes when everything is funny.

“Listen,” he began his pitch “I’m not driving back home either – it would be almost 2 hours from here, so I got myself a room. Why don’t you come with me and get cleaned up a bit – then when you’re feeling better, you can drive home.”

She just stared.

“Or I can call you a taxi,” he offered.

“Let’s go.” She said, more matter-of-factly than she had ever said anything.

She was standing barefoot at the coat check when he returned from making his excuses at the executive table. He took the coat as it was being handed to her and turned it open for her. She felt spoiled by this kind of attention and giddy as they headed to the elevators. He placed his hand on the small of her back as they got in to the elevator and again when it opened onto their floor. She noticed how well-manicured his hand was while he fished the key card out and opened the door. She walked right into the bathroom and closed the door.

Her hands trembled a bit when she wetted a towel and wiped the remnants of that sticky drink from her leg and her foot. Her shoe was a goner, and she tossed the pair of them into the trash, making a loud, clunky noise. When she stood up in front of the mirror, she adjusted her bra and the breasts they held. She admired herself a moment in the mirror. She didn’t look drunk – in fact, she thought she looked fucking hot. Before she left to join him in the other room, she made another “what-the-hell” decision and reached back to unclasp her bra. After she slithered out of it, she let it fall right on top of the shoes and strolled out to play.

He was sitting on the couch with a glass in his hand, offering her what looked like champagne. She took it, set it on the table and leaned back in the chair across from him. He enjoyed the view before, and it was getting better as her tits jiggled under the dress, her nipples lifting little points in the thin fabric. She knew he was a guy who got what he wanted, and she knew he wanted her. She was not making it hard for him to figure out. She rubbed a bare foot up along her own leg and grinned at him.

He moved towards her, settling on one knee and grasped her head with both hands. She met his mouth with hers and opened it when his tongue pushed its way in. There was little tenderness in this exchange, just lust. Her hands roamed over his head and neck – his thick, muscular neck. It felt better than she had imagined earlier. He practically chewed on her open and willing mouth, sucking and tonguing as his hands tilted her head to accommodate his kissing. She slid her body towards him, feeling his heat increase as she did so.

Her dress rode up her thighs as she scooted forward and his hands quickly traveled down the sides of her body. His fingers tickled their way under the bottom edge and grabbed her hips. He gripped and un-gripped her hips for a few moments. Then he released her hips and put them around her waist. He pulled her closer as his hands grabbed and released her. He continued doing this until his hands were fully on her tits. She pressed herself into his touch as he tried to make his hands engulf her entire chest. The skin of his hands was smooth, but his touch was rough, raw and primitive. She liked it. He kissed her harder as his fingers pushed and pulled on her tit flesh.

She was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to do anything else when he suddenly stood up, pulling her with him. The thick bulge behind his slacks pressed against her belly and felt superheated. His hands left her just long enough to grasp her dress and yank it in one clean jerk off over her head. The garment hadn’t even hit the floor before his mouth was on her. His arm was wrapped around her lower back as his other hand held her breast up for his mouth. He kissed her there like he kissed her mouth – open and wet, with lots of tongue. Her tensed nipples were sucked and prodded by his lips and tongue. Then he clasped his whole mouth on her and sucked half of her tit into it, making her gasp by the roughness of it. He switched hands and gave her other breast equal time and attention, slurping and lapping at it with ferocity.

Her dizziness was made worse when he reached down and lifted her with an abrupt motion. He resumed kissing her as he walked her to the edge of the bed, plopping her onto her back. She had undone several of the buttons on his shirt, and it laid open when he leaned over to remove his shoes. She wriggled up onto the bed a bit further while he finished removing his pants and shorts. She expected him to lay on top of her and kiss her some more, or play with her chest, so she was surprised when he climbed onto the bed and straddled her body, one knee under each of her arms.

“Hold them together.” He huskily commanded as he pressed her tits towards each other, “like this, together.”

She did it, pressing her boobs together firmly. He put his hands on top of hers and jammed his boiling hot prick into the tight gap between them. The suddenness of this was both shocking and sexy. His shirt flapped about as he bucked his hips forcefully. She could feel his balls bounce and drag along her body as his prick tried to pry her tits apart. The friction was making her cleavage feel like it was sunburned, but his cock continued to plunge in and out of the space rapidly.

“Hold on,” he paused and tilted his head down towards her chest, releasing his grip on her hands slightly.

His spit landed right on target, wet with the tart smell of champagne. He spit twice more on her mounds and just ahead of the swollen tip of his cock, immediately resuming his pumping as his hands resumed their control of hers. Now the sensation was moist as well as hot, she could feel his member on the skin of her chest. She could sense the ridge of his head plop outside of her boobs, just under her chin, and spread her flesh as it was pulled back between. She moved her eyes from his face, contorted in a rabid grimace, to her own breasts being squeezed into a tight place for him to fuck.

“Oh god yeah, yeah, YEAH, FUCK!” he began to yell as she felt him rise off of her slightly and press forward.

She could feel his pubic hair tickle the bottom of her boobs as his rhythm slowed and he began to cum. The first hot spray hit her right on the bottom of the chin and made her tilt her head back reflexively. He gripped her more tightly as the next two threads of white cum jumped out across her mouth and cheek. She wrenched her head to the side and he finished by sending his splooge into her hair and onto her neck. She reached up and wiped it from her face while he leaned back, groaning, and let the last few dribbles run out of him.

“Holy shit,” she finally managed to say, pulling at the edge of the sheets “all over me.”

He lifted his knee and moved his weight off of her as she rolled to the side and used the sheets to wipe at the gooey sperm. He sat on his knees to her side, putting his warm hand onto a little smear of cum near her boob and rubbing it into the skin.

“You’re still ready to go or something?” she asked incredulously.

“Hell yeah,” he replied, sliding his hand down her body to her hips and across her belly.

“Damn.” She couldn’t believe what she was feeling as that smooth, rough hand of his pushed its way past the side edge of her panties and onto her pussylips. She looked up at him and he still had that serious look on his face. She believed he was going to do whatever he was going to do – she didn’t have much say in the matter anymore. She lifted one leg slightly and let it bend outwards.

He pressed his fingers into the skin of her labia like he was kneading bread. She saw his other hand slide up to her tits and grab them, pinching the nipples in turn. She watched him watch his own hand as it tugged her panties down away from her crotch. She lifted her hips slightly so he could get them off, but once she had one leg out, his hand sprung back to her slit and resumed its massage. He didn’t seem to have a pattern or plan, he just seemed to want to poke his fingers onto every inch of her. He used the palm of his hand to push her inner thigh outward more, and hovered his thumb right over her clit.

Her legs were trembling – or were they just shaking because his hand was moving in such a fervent motion? She felt the first twinges of warmth roll over her pussy as he finally laid his thumb on her clit hood and began to roll it around in random circles. He must have sensed her relax because his fingers stiffened and two of them probed in between her lips and pierced her tight hole. She felt the fingertips stir around her opening, getting wet from her arousal. The pressure on her clit was becoming almost too intense when it changed. She recognized the sound as soon as his spit left his mouth, before it hit her pussy. His thumb lifted and pushed the slippery saliva all over her clit. She let a sound go as he resumed his touch.

“oooouuuuuuhhhhhh,” a long, low moan to match the feeling of heat flooding her clit.

“god damn you are wet, fucking hot,” he muttered as he moved his fingers more deeply into her. “I’m gonna fuck your cunt .”

Lost in the growing heat and electricity she was feeling, she didn’t respond except to open her legs more widely to his hand. She could feel his tension growing and glanced to see his purple-headed, erect cock pulsing and bouncing between his legs as he penetrated her slit. He let go of her chest and slid down so his hand, arm and elbow were all in a line below her snatch. She looked down just as he stiffened three fingers into a perverse kind of boy scout salute and plunged them into her. Her hands slapped down on the bed in response to this stabbing entry. Her body tensed, bent backwards and she gasped, but she opened her legs as wide as they would go, inviting him to continue.

She could feel him go more deeply with each of the first few thrusts, up to the first knuckle, then the second, then as his hand forced its way as deep as it would go she felt his thumb bump into her clit again. He slowed his hand down only long enough to reposition his body, putting his non-fucking hand under her knee and spreading her out and up. The look on his face was scary, sexy and intense. She didn’t know what to think except to try and relax – relax while he began to finger fuck her pussy with abandon.

“Fuck yeah! Fuck yeah! Fuck yeah!” he grunted while his fingers plunged in and out of her pussy. She could feel her lips get shoved aside each time he bottomed out in her. His thumb crashed into her clit over and over – sending sharp jolts of painful pleasure through her belly and down across her legs. She could probably get an orgasm going if he changed his pace a little, but when she reached down to guide him he swatted her hand away and kept doing it to her his own way. “You like this this, huh – getting your tight cunt fucked like this. Fuck yeah.”

She twisted her torso a bit when he left his fingers deep inside her, halting his piston-like motion and replacing it with a grinding and steady pushing. His thumb worked her clit feverishly and she could feel he was spreading his fingers inside of her as he ground his hand done hard. She couldn’t believe she was laying spread-eagled on a hotel bed with a sweaty man’s hand stuffed into her vagina. How did she get here like this? Now she just wanted it to be over.

He made one more primal grunt as he finished trying to jam his whole hand into her. Her twisting and his pushing had scooted her up the bed, and it was obvious he wanted her in a different way now. He slid his fingers out, spreading them while they slipped from her pussy. She felt his slimy fingers on her thigh as he gripped her and slid her body towards the bottom edge of the bed. He never let go of her, tracing a wet line up her leg as he placed one hand behind each knee and forced her legs up, crushing her tits under her thighs. She spotted her own panties, still wrapped in a twist around her calf before he did it again.

The sound of his spitting was somewhat erotic before, now it disgusted her as she felt the globs of saliva splatter on her pussy and her pubic hair, with one shot missing and hitting her on the inner thigh. She felt him bounce and grind his cock on these spots until it was well-coated. His first thrust missed slightly, poking her just outside her labia – but the slickness allowed him to keep on pushing until his prick slipped to one side and pierced her without resistance. She heard her own breath come in shallow wheezes as he let more of his weight fall onto her. She felt like she wasn’t really there – to him especially – she was just a hole for his cock.

“Oh yeah, that’s tight. I’m fucking your tight little cunt.” He announced, getting himself even more worked up than he had been, and pushing even harder on her legs.

Her pussy did feel tight, and his dick felt like a veined fist punching her. His thrusts sped up and the lubrication from his spit began to wear off. Now her lips were being pulled out as he withdrew, and folded inwards each time he pumped himself into her. Her moans now were more pain than anything else. She wanted this penetration to end. The man dominating her was sickening to her, but she knew what to do.

“Yeah, baby,” she said, looking through her own knees at his face. “Come on, baby – gimme that cum.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Yeah. Yeah! Yeah!” his face was tense, and his eyes closed tightly as her words triggered his response. “I’m cumming in that tight cunt. Yeaaaaah! Fuck Yeeeeeaaaaaahhhhhhh!”

With her slit pulled so tight, she could feel the tube on the bottom of his cock engorge and contract, shooting his sperm into her. His body tightened and flinched on top of her each time she felt his prick pulse like a heartbeat. She felt his balls rise and fall against her ass cheeks while little beads of his sweat dripped onto her. He twitched and made a deep, low groan as he finished.

When he let go of her legs and rolled off, he ended up next to her laid out on the bed. He turned and smiled at her. She got up quickly, and without a word snagged her dress from the floor on the way to the bathroom. She caught her red-faced visage in the mirror and noticed a string of his cum still in her hair. She sobbed quietly as she wiped it off, turning away from the mirror. His man juice ran out of her slit along her thigh and she reached to turn off the light while she finished blotting him off of her. She untwisted her panties and threw them on the floor before she stepped into the shower.

When she was done, dried, and dressed she left the bathroom and was relieved to see him in the same place on the bed, asleep. She called herself a cab and waited near the lobby in her wrinkled dress and stained shoes. It took several weeks before her guilt drove her to confess this all to me, her husband – and I was crushed by it. By that time, he had left the company to take a job in another state, so there was nothing I could do with my anger, but I wanted to hear how my wife had cheated on me. I pressed her for details that I now regret knowing. Eventually I forgave – but I can’t forget.

---