It’s Not an Affair If It’s Anal Ch. 02


Her lips felt incredible as they wrapped around my cock. Her tongue reached out and I felt sensations I’d never felt before. Her hand cupped my balls and alternated between scratching and squeezing. I was overwhelmed with pleasure. My body naturally started thrusting for more.

I imagined Heather’s long black hair flowing over her head and brushing over my body. I moved some strands so I could see her tight mouth bulging with my manhood. I grabbed her head as I thrust harder and harder anticipating my moment of release.

SLAP! My thigh flared with pain.

My reverie was broken. My eyes shot open to see my wife staring daggers at me.

Fuck. I released her head and my penis flung from her mouth as she sat up.

“What the hell!?” she exclaimed.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry … ” I pleaded, reaching out for her even after she pushed me away.

She got off the bed and walked to the bathroom. Stopping halfway there and turned toward me, “What has gotten into you?” She stared at me a moment longer, daring me to answer, then stomped off the rest of the way. The bathroom door closed harder than normal.

What has gotten into me? Your sister, I wanted to say. It had been nearly two months since her sister, Heather, had suggested we have anal sex and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Every sexual thought revolved around Heather’s face. Every fantasy involved Heather’s body. My lust only grew and was taken out on my wife.

In fact, it started that night of our double date. I was all over my wife for the rest of the evening; grabbing, pinching, rubbing. I was hornier than normal and threw her on the bed when we finally got home. I wanted her ass.

I rolled her on her stomach and pulled up her dress. I pulled her g-string out of the crack and buried my face, her round globes embracing me. She squeezed, knowing how obsessed Demetevler Escort I was. I held myself there, pushing hard until I couldn’t breathe. I eased up, just enough to inhale her musky odor; that perfect smell of a woman that hasn’t just showered. I dove in again, pulling her cheeks wider. Licking and kissing. My tongue swirled her rim and then penetrated as far as it could. She gasped and pushed back towards me. She loved it when I played with her ass.

I continued my licking and penetrating with my tongue, sometimes stretching down to her pussy, teasing her briefly, but tonight it was about her ass. Nothing was going to stop me from getting it. I worked my pants and underwear off to free my raging hard on. I rubbed myself on the sheets as I was absorbed in concentration on her butt.

I reached up my fingers and slowly started working my middle finger into her hole while alternating with my tongue. By now it was so wet with saliva I had it buried as far is it would go past the second knuckle. She kept squirming around and I whispered to her to play with herself. I pulled out my finger and lined up my pointer side by side and started to push. It was so tight. I imagined my penis there instead.

I got up on my knees and pulled her ass into the air; I was going to take her from behind. She spread her legs to accommodate me and I slid easily into her pussy. She moaned in pleasure, but my only thought was to lubricate my cock for the other hole. I pushed in a couple more times then pulled out and lined up with her ass.

She dazedly asked me what I was doing.

“I’m going to fuck your ass,” I replied lustfully.

“No your not!” she said, much more alert now. I grabbed her hips and pushed harder, but she rolled away.

“What are you doing?!” she accused. My sexual hunger Otele gelen escort was starting to dissipate.

“I, uh .. ” I stammered.

“I can’t trust you when you’re like this.” She stood up and pulled her dress back down. “We were having such a nice evening, why are you ruining it?”

Disheartened, I hung my head as she walked away.

And that’s how it’s been since then. Tonight’s blowjob was the most recent of sexual moments that had gotten out of hand. It had taken three weeks since the last debacle for my wife to even want to be intimate. Then my lust got the better of me, clouding my thoughts; fueling my desire … leaving me unsatisfied.

A blow job! She was giving me a blow job. Boy did I mess up … again.

She came back to bed wearing her don’t-touch-me flannel pajamas. She crawled in, turned off the lamp and lay down away from me, making it clear the night was over.

My posture was defeated. I stood and grabbed my phone and went to into the bathroom, once again relegated to masturbate to some mobile porn. I needed an orgasm.

I got on Facebook and looked at pictures of Heather. The more I lusted after her, the more beautiful she was. I searched the internet for “flat chested anal” and scrolled through the thumbnails looking for anyone that looked like Heather.

I tapped on one video that caught my eye. It started out with a woman on her bed, playing with a vibrator. I thought about how I would love to see Heather naked and what we could do. We had talked about anal, but what about kissing, or sucking on her nipple? I bet her nipples were sensitive, to make up for lack of volume. At least I imagined it that way.

I stroked my cock slowly, letting the orgasm build back up.

The video showed a man walking onto screen and the woman dutifully Balgat Escort took his cock into her mouth. I wondered if oral would be OK with Heather. She did say she wanted her ass licked. I imagined us in the sixty-nine position, her mouth able to take my size surprisingly well. She thrust her pussy into my face with the same rhythm she sucked my cock, my tongue trying to reach every square inch.

I propped the phone up and stroked my penis faster. My free hand started to pinch my nipple.

On the video the man was behind the woman now, fucking her from the side. My thoughts flickered between me sucking on Heather’s nipple to sucking her clit to seeing her bent over, her head turned and eyes begging me to fuck her ass.

I exploded. This orgasm felt wonderful; that instant of clarity that everything in the world is perfect. I immediately felt shame.

As I was cleaning up, wallowing in my post-orgasm guilt, I thought about what’s become of my life. Lately I’ve been very introspective in these moments. Boiled down to simplicity, I was unsatisfied; sexually. I wanted anal. Heather was offering it to me. I didn’t want to cheat on my wife; I loved her, but lust was taking over my mind. Heather was unsatisfied, too. Her solution was to seek me out. What had she said? “It’s not an affair if it’s anal” and that I was safe. Safe. What does that mean? It means that we could be there for each other without any worries. I trusted her and she trusted me. We could satisfy each others sexual wantons.

I looked at my phone, now back in my hand. I should text her I thought. Let her know she’s invaded my fantasies. Let her know I want something to happen. No, I reprimanded myself. I should send a note to my wife, apologizing and try to explain what’s going on.

My wife was perfect in every way, but why was it sex that overwhelmed my thoughts. My own wife wasn’t meeting my needs. Was I supposed to set aside my desire for her; my obsession with her ass? It was hers I wanted! I wanted to experience it with her! She didn’t understand that. Heather understood, and offered me a solution.

I stared at my phone for a bit longer, mentally arguing with myself. Making a decision, I typed “We need to talk,” and hit send.

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