26-12-2018, 10:30 PM
"I, ah, I don't know. We've never done anything like this. And I've never cheated on Jen."
Victor shrugged. "You only live once, buddy," he said. "Monique's a special girl. You know, she used to be a model? She was in a couple of Sports Illustrated swimsuit issues, about 10 years ago. What I'm saying is ... look, Jen's a sweet girl. She's cute, and she probably turns heads now and then. But Monique's special. When she walks into a room, every male dick gets hard. She's had that effect on you, right? So you know what I mean. Well my friend, Monique wants you, but she's a fickle bitch. If you wait too long, she may be on to the next guy. So think about it, but don't think too long."
I did think about it, later that night as I fucked Jen, the memory of Monique's stiletto heels against my bare flesh still fresh in my mind. Once again Jen seemed more passionate than usual, and I wondered if Victor had played with her under the table, the way Monique had played with me. The thought of Victor's large black hands on my wife bothered me, but my burning lust for Monique pushed away those jealous feelings.
I've always been a jealous husband. Jen and I met in college. I was a bookish, geeky junior, and she a leggy blonde, a popular freshman and former prom queen and cheerleader. I tutored her in math, and by the end of the year we were a couple. Her friends were shocked she liked me, and to tell you the truth, so was I. I guess it's true opposites attract. Back in college, guys hit on her all the time, and that continued after we married. It always bothered me, but I'm certain she never cheated on me, and I've never cheated on her. I've never even considered having sex with another woman.
Until now. My lust for Monique consumed me. How could I be so vulnerable to Monique's charms? Maybe because my sex life with Jen had cooled. They say married couples go through phases, but this phase had lasted over 2 years. We still loved each other, and were even thinking about kids. Jen had gone off the pill a few months ago. We weren't trying to get pregnant, but we weren't trying not to either. But while the love remained, the passion had left our relationship.
Maybe the lack of passion in my marriage helped fuel my lust for Monique. I couldn't get her out of my mind. I found those SI swimsuit issues on the internet, and when I saw the pictures of Monique my jaw dropped. She was magnificent, wearing skimpy string bikinis that left little to the imagination. She hadn't aged much. Maybe her face looked a little older now, but her breasts were still large and firm, her stomach flat, her ass tight and her legs long and shapely.
I was hugely disappointed when Jen said she didn't want to go to the next club mixer. She didn't offer an explanation. Instead of going to the club, we went to dinner and a movie. The phone rang as soon as we got home.
"Hello Mike," I heard Victor say on the phone. "Monique and I missed you and Jen tonight. We're in your neighborhood. We'd love to stop by to say hello."
I put my hand over the phone, my heart racing. "It's Victor," I said to Jen, trying to hide my excitement. "He and Monique are in the neighborhood, and asked to stop by."
Jen looked like a deer caught in the headlights, her face a mixture of surprise, apprehension, excitement and fear. At the time, being so blinded by my lust for Monique, Jen's reaction didn't register with me. I was trying so hard to hide my excitement of seeing Victor's wife again, I wasn't paying attention to the signs from my own wife.
"We should invite them over," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "They're just down the street. We don't want to be rude."
Jen started to say something, and then shrugged, looking resigned. I smiled excitedly, and told Victor to come up to our apartment.
"I guess I better change," Jen said. I didn't know what she meant. We'd just gotten home from our date night, and Jen was already dressed for an evening out, in a skirt and blouse, and pumps.
But I nodded and said, "Sure," happy that Jen had agreed to Victor and Monique's visit.
Jen disappeared for about 15 minutes, and when she emerged from our bedroom my jaw almost dropped. She looked fantastic. She wore a snug fitting turtleneck, and a short skirt. A mini-skirt! I hadn't ever seen Jen wear anything so short, and the skirt did a great job showing off her long shapely legs. She had put on hose (pantyhose, I was sure), and also the high heels she had worn to the last club mixer.
"You look great, honey," I said, still shocked at what I saw. "Is that a new outfit?"
She nodded hesitantly. "Um ... yeah. I had some money left over after buying these shoes. Do you like?"
I began to nod, but then the door buzzed. I opened the door and shook hands with Victor, and then he passed me to greet Jen. As he did I got my first glimpse of Monique.
It would not be an exaggeration to say she looked breathtaking. She wore a form fitting red dress that swooped in the front, and plunged in the back. She wore black hose and black high heels. Her hair was up, treating me to an unimpeded view of her long graceful neck. She greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, and I was engulfed in her sensuous perfume.
Monique's lips lingered on my cheek, making me almost shudder with excitement. Then Monique trailed her lips lightly across my cheek towards my lips, but at the last moment she teasingly pulled away. I glanced nervously behind Monique, fearful of my wife's anger. But Victor had taken Jen with him into the kitchen to make drinks.
Monique took my arm and led me to the sofa. Her dress was so short it couldn't possibly hide lace top stockings. I was certain she wore pantyhose underneath. But when she sat and crossed her legs, I was treated to a glimpse of her stocking tops.
Monique took my hand and placed it on her thigh. I felt the outline of her garter straps.
I didn't need to touch her back to know she was braless, as I did that first time when we danced. The back of her dress plunged to just above her ass. There was no way she could be wearing a bra. If that wasn't enough, I could see the bumps in her dress, where her nipples pushed against the silky fabric.
Monique placed her soft hand against my chest. "You're shaking," she said.
I was shaking, from excitement. I had never been so aroused.
Monique slid off the sofa to stand in front of me. She rested one knee on the sofa, next to me, and then moved her other leg until its knee also rested on the sofa, on the other side of me. She was straddling me with her long stockinged legs.
My heart pounded. I looked nervously towards the kitchen. "Jen'll be back soon," I said concerned.
Monique put her finger on my lips. "Don't worry," she reassured me. "Victor will keep your wife busy."
I knew what that meant, of course. Victor was having his way with my wife, or at least trying to. But I wanted Monique so much. Any lingering jealousy and concern I had for Victor with my wife disappeared as Monique brought her hands to the edge of her dress, and then slowly -- ever so slowly -- pulled her dress up.
I almost came in my pants as Monique's shapely, stocking-clad legs came into full view. Her dress was like a curtain, rising so my eyes could feast on her legs. Monique raised her dress until I could see her heavy laced stocking tops, then her thighs above her stockings with the bare skin covered by only the straps of her garter belt. Monique lingered there a moment, but finally she raised her dress more, letting me see her panties. Not the full coverage cotton panties my wife wore. But barely-there silk panties, a tiny triangle of sheer black lace with the wisp of a string on each side.
With her dress bundled around her waist, Monique leaned over and kissed me. She explored my mouth with her hot tongue. "Unzip me," she begged. I found her zipper and pulled down, and then her bare breasts were before me. They were magnificent, large and full, yet so firm, capped by dark areolas surrounding eraser sized nipples. I squeezed and fondled her, and sucked her hard nipples in my mouth.
Monique moaned, and then reached between us and cupped my hard-on. "I've wanted to feel this since that first time we danced," she moaned into my ear. She unzipped me and pulled me out, and softly stroked me. I threw my head back, almost convulsing with the pleasure of Monique's soft touch.
Suddenly I became aware of grunts and cries coming from the kitchen. It was Jen's voice, and it sounded like she was in pain. "It's Jen, she's hurt," I said, pulling away from Monique.
"No, she's okay," Monique assured me, urging me back into the sofa. "Victor will take care of her, she'll enjoy it, you'll see."
"Are you sure?" I asked, but my concern for my wife ebbed away as Monique teased my balls and stroked my shaft.
Jen's cries turned to moans. Long soulful moans, moans that begged for more, moans of the type I have never before heard from my wife.
"See?" Monique said smiling. "Victor will take care of her."
Then Monique slid to her knees and took me into her mouth, and within moments I forgot all about my wife, in the kitchen, with Victor.
Victor shrugged. "You only live once, buddy," he said. "Monique's a special girl. You know, she used to be a model? She was in a couple of Sports Illustrated swimsuit issues, about 10 years ago. What I'm saying is ... look, Jen's a sweet girl. She's cute, and she probably turns heads now and then. But Monique's special. When she walks into a room, every male dick gets hard. She's had that effect on you, right? So you know what I mean. Well my friend, Monique wants you, but she's a fickle bitch. If you wait too long, she may be on to the next guy. So think about it, but don't think too long."
I did think about it, later that night as I fucked Jen, the memory of Monique's stiletto heels against my bare flesh still fresh in my mind. Once again Jen seemed more passionate than usual, and I wondered if Victor had played with her under the table, the way Monique had played with me. The thought of Victor's large black hands on my wife bothered me, but my burning lust for Monique pushed away those jealous feelings.
I've always been a jealous husband. Jen and I met in college. I was a bookish, geeky junior, and she a leggy blonde, a popular freshman and former prom queen and cheerleader. I tutored her in math, and by the end of the year we were a couple. Her friends were shocked she liked me, and to tell you the truth, so was I. I guess it's true opposites attract. Back in college, guys hit on her all the time, and that continued after we married. It always bothered me, but I'm certain she never cheated on me, and I've never cheated on her. I've never even considered having sex with another woman.
Until now. My lust for Monique consumed me. How could I be so vulnerable to Monique's charms? Maybe because my sex life with Jen had cooled. They say married couples go through phases, but this phase had lasted over 2 years. We still loved each other, and were even thinking about kids. Jen had gone off the pill a few months ago. We weren't trying to get pregnant, but we weren't trying not to either. But while the love remained, the passion had left our relationship.
Maybe the lack of passion in my marriage helped fuel my lust for Monique. I couldn't get her out of my mind. I found those SI swimsuit issues on the internet, and when I saw the pictures of Monique my jaw dropped. She was magnificent, wearing skimpy string bikinis that left little to the imagination. She hadn't aged much. Maybe her face looked a little older now, but her breasts were still large and firm, her stomach flat, her ass tight and her legs long and shapely.
I was hugely disappointed when Jen said she didn't want to go to the next club mixer. She didn't offer an explanation. Instead of going to the club, we went to dinner and a movie. The phone rang as soon as we got home.
"Hello Mike," I heard Victor say on the phone. "Monique and I missed you and Jen tonight. We're in your neighborhood. We'd love to stop by to say hello."
I put my hand over the phone, my heart racing. "It's Victor," I said to Jen, trying to hide my excitement. "He and Monique are in the neighborhood, and asked to stop by."
Jen looked like a deer caught in the headlights, her face a mixture of surprise, apprehension, excitement and fear. At the time, being so blinded by my lust for Monique, Jen's reaction didn't register with me. I was trying so hard to hide my excitement of seeing Victor's wife again, I wasn't paying attention to the signs from my own wife.
"We should invite them over," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "They're just down the street. We don't want to be rude."
Jen started to say something, and then shrugged, looking resigned. I smiled excitedly, and told Victor to come up to our apartment.
"I guess I better change," Jen said. I didn't know what she meant. We'd just gotten home from our date night, and Jen was already dressed for an evening out, in a skirt and blouse, and pumps.
But I nodded and said, "Sure," happy that Jen had agreed to Victor and Monique's visit.
Jen disappeared for about 15 minutes, and when she emerged from our bedroom my jaw almost dropped. She looked fantastic. She wore a snug fitting turtleneck, and a short skirt. A mini-skirt! I hadn't ever seen Jen wear anything so short, and the skirt did a great job showing off her long shapely legs. She had put on hose (pantyhose, I was sure), and also the high heels she had worn to the last club mixer.
"You look great, honey," I said, still shocked at what I saw. "Is that a new outfit?"
She nodded hesitantly. "Um ... yeah. I had some money left over after buying these shoes. Do you like?"
I began to nod, but then the door buzzed. I opened the door and shook hands with Victor, and then he passed me to greet Jen. As he did I got my first glimpse of Monique.
It would not be an exaggeration to say she looked breathtaking. She wore a form fitting red dress that swooped in the front, and plunged in the back. She wore black hose and black high heels. Her hair was up, treating me to an unimpeded view of her long graceful neck. She greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, and I was engulfed in her sensuous perfume.
Monique's lips lingered on my cheek, making me almost shudder with excitement. Then Monique trailed her lips lightly across my cheek towards my lips, but at the last moment she teasingly pulled away. I glanced nervously behind Monique, fearful of my wife's anger. But Victor had taken Jen with him into the kitchen to make drinks.
Monique took my arm and led me to the sofa. Her dress was so short it couldn't possibly hide lace top stockings. I was certain she wore pantyhose underneath. But when she sat and crossed her legs, I was treated to a glimpse of her stocking tops.
Monique took my hand and placed it on her thigh. I felt the outline of her garter straps.
I didn't need to touch her back to know she was braless, as I did that first time when we danced. The back of her dress plunged to just above her ass. There was no way she could be wearing a bra. If that wasn't enough, I could see the bumps in her dress, where her nipples pushed against the silky fabric.
Monique placed her soft hand against my chest. "You're shaking," she said.
I was shaking, from excitement. I had never been so aroused.
Monique slid off the sofa to stand in front of me. She rested one knee on the sofa, next to me, and then moved her other leg until its knee also rested on the sofa, on the other side of me. She was straddling me with her long stockinged legs.
My heart pounded. I looked nervously towards the kitchen. "Jen'll be back soon," I said concerned.
Monique put her finger on my lips. "Don't worry," she reassured me. "Victor will keep your wife busy."
I knew what that meant, of course. Victor was having his way with my wife, or at least trying to. But I wanted Monique so much. Any lingering jealousy and concern I had for Victor with my wife disappeared as Monique brought her hands to the edge of her dress, and then slowly -- ever so slowly -- pulled her dress up.
I almost came in my pants as Monique's shapely, stocking-clad legs came into full view. Her dress was like a curtain, rising so my eyes could feast on her legs. Monique raised her dress until I could see her heavy laced stocking tops, then her thighs above her stockings with the bare skin covered by only the straps of her garter belt. Monique lingered there a moment, but finally she raised her dress more, letting me see her panties. Not the full coverage cotton panties my wife wore. But barely-there silk panties, a tiny triangle of sheer black lace with the wisp of a string on each side.
With her dress bundled around her waist, Monique leaned over and kissed me. She explored my mouth with her hot tongue. "Unzip me," she begged. I found her zipper and pulled down, and then her bare breasts were before me. They were magnificent, large and full, yet so firm, capped by dark areolas surrounding eraser sized nipples. I squeezed and fondled her, and sucked her hard nipples in my mouth.
Monique moaned, and then reached between us and cupped my hard-on. "I've wanted to feel this since that first time we danced," she moaned into my ear. She unzipped me and pulled me out, and softly stroked me. I threw my head back, almost convulsing with the pleasure of Monique's soft touch.
Suddenly I became aware of grunts and cries coming from the kitchen. It was Jen's voice, and it sounded like she was in pain. "It's Jen, she's hurt," I said, pulling away from Monique.
"No, she's okay," Monique assured me, urging me back into the sofa. "Victor will take care of her, she'll enjoy it, you'll see."
"Are you sure?" I asked, but my concern for my wife ebbed away as Monique teased my balls and stroked my shaft.
Jen's cries turned to moans. Long soulful moans, moans that begged for more, moans of the type I have never before heard from my wife.
"See?" Monique said smiling. "Victor will take care of her."
Then Monique slid to her knees and took me into her mouth, and within moments I forgot all about my wife, in the kitchen, with Victor.
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