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Hotwife Hotel Creampie

I looked down at the pink gash between my wife Lesley’s spread legs, already wet with my saliva and her juices. I controlled my horniness as I ran my tongue from the mattress to her downy patch. My tongue pressed between her lips, and I tasted hot fluid while my tongue felt the heat of her engorged lips. I loved eating Lesley, and tonight she was enjoying it.

God, I want to fuck you, I moaned. I want to stick my dick right here– driving my tongue in and out before continuing–and fuck you.

Shhhhhh, she said. Sometimes she likes hot talk, but I guessed she did not this night.

I put my tongue to better use, sliding between her lips and over her clit. I gently coaxed her clit out, suckling as required. I felt a hot rush of juices, and used both hands to pry her open and suck the juices out. She gasped with pleasure. She was ready for me.

I moved up and kissed Lesley’s ear as I positioned myself at her opening. I slid in, trembling. She often dislikes penetration because she has a tilted vagina that makes fucking painful sometimes. Tonight she was hot enough to invite me inside.

She was virginally tight, and incredibly warm. Her wet muscles gripped me, and made me a notch closer to filling her with my cum. I held off, wanting to enjoy this unusual pleasure with the woman I loved.

Then I made a big mistake. I voiced my innermost desire: oh God, I want to fill you with cum and then go down on you. I whispered it hotly into her ear. I had again confided my desire to clean her soiled pussy, for perhaps the fiftieth time. This time she had had enough.

Must you always ruin it? Lesley said, turning her face to look at me. Her eyes told me she was pissed off. You always fuck it up.

What? I asked, although I knew what she meant. It was an old argument: I liked talking during sex, and sometimes she did but often she didn’t.

You know what, she flared. Get off me! Sheepishly, I pulled out of her rapidly cooling canal and moved to my side of the bed. She immediately rolled on to her side, facing away from me.

I’m sorry honey, I wheedled. I guess I had just the wrong tone.

Lesley rolled back, just enough to shoot me a look. You know, we were having a nice time and then you screwed up. I don’t like that idea, and the sooner you understand that, the better. She rolled back. Case closed.

I rolled onto my side, my back to hers. I looked at the clock. 1:20am. I had to get up in two hours and I was pissed. Hurt and pissed. I got up and opened the bedroom door, letting the dog bound onto the bed. I was thankful he curled up between us, a buffer in our hostilities.

The whole night had been an ordeal. First we had gotten home late from a make-up soccer match. The kids needed showers, and my daughter needed anti-itch cream to stem the poisons injected by a zillion mosquitoes. After the kids were in bed, we had to wait hours to make sure they were asleep.

I spent the first while watching General Hospital on the Soap channel. All that did was make me horny, because I had steamy undies for Angel. Ever since she stopped wearing all white, I found her deliciously sexy. Her straight black bobbed hair, large eyes, supple lips, exotic coloring… Angel was a hottie for sure!

I nudged Lesley, reminding her I was going to be out of town for a while. That was our code phrase for please have sex with me because I don’t like feeling horny when I am traveling and I fear I’ll make a mistake and commit adultery. I had returned from a Promise Keeper’s convention several years ago, crying to her about the lust I had felt. I hadn’t been adulterous, but I disliked feeling so horny that I would be tempted. Since then, nearly every overnight trip had been proceeded by lovemaking.

Just wait, she said, reading her romance novels and watching G-H occasionally. Let the kids get to sleep.

Even though I was aroused by watching Angel, and had the promise of sex, I felt my energy drain away. I routinely get up at 4:00am, and by 10:00pm I am whipped. Knowing I had to get up even earlier made it worse. Then, during Leno I began Foreplay Phase 1. This is back rubbing, gentle non-sexual caresses. That was followed by Phase 2 (kicking the dog out, direct touches), and then, eventually, talking her into letting me eat her. Each act drained me further and further.

When it all came to naught, I was totally frustrated and spent. It didn’t seem right, to put so much energy into Lesley when she clearly didn’t care. It shouldn’t be so hard to make your wife want to have sex, and it definitely shouldn’t be hard to get her to receive oral sex! More often than not, she came hard when I did it. So what the hell?!

And this business of letting me eat my cum from her. I was the one who was going to do it, so why should she think it gross. If I didn’t, why should she? If it turned me on, why should she stop me?

I fell asleep, angry still. I woke up bleary eyed. Grabbing my bags, it was all I could do to not slam the door as I left.

I won’t bore you with the details of day spent traveling and spent in meetings. Suffice it to say I arrived at my room in the Clarion Suites weary. I took a shower, hoping to revive myself. I had noticed a nearly attractive older barkeep, and just in case….

As I often did, I popped a new blade in my Mach 3, and shaved my face to take off the super sharp edge. Then, I carefully removed my pubic hairs, leaving my dick and crotch smooth. I felt delightfully wicked, a married man with a porn-star shaving.

I dressed casually, then went to the bar. One thing I like about traveling, is that I can decide who I am. I am not the milquetoast married man who is cuckolded by romance novels and soap operas. Instead, when I travel I am the suave ladies man, assertive, glib, and dashing.

I chatted up the barmaid Vickie, ordering a drink with a sexy name. As she fixed it, I grabbed some kibbles from the happy hour buffet. We talked for a while, and I learned she was nearly as good as I am at double-entendres. It was great fun, and we had a good time until I was about to ask what she liked to do after work.

Of course, the idiots from the West Coast office decided to call just then. I excused myself and went to my room to send them some files from my laptop. While online, I decided to check out my website, and got all involved in pornographic pursuits.

By the time I got back offline, it was nearly ten o’clock. The bar closed at 1:00am, so I went down to chat up Vickie again. When I arrived, my plans took a big turn.

Sitting at the bar was a luscious woman. In her later 20s, she was sexy from head to toe. She was wearing a short, tight, sleeveless dress, that had her ankles not been crossed would have allowed me to look up to heaven. As it was, I thought I could see the bands of elastic that held her stockings up. She was wearing red stiletto heels, perhaps 3.5 high, with buckled straps that went around her ankles. I could only imagine how attractive that made her butt.

Her blonde hair was piled on top of her head, and cascaded down in sexy curls. Carefree strands framed her face, which was lovely from a distance. Her makeup was what I thought of as evening, which would be gaudy in the daylight but made her a goddess at night. The overall effect was to highlight her gorgeous brown eyes.

She sat on the barstool, facing out. She sipped a frozen drink through a straw while surveying my entrance. I flashed her a smile, and she smiled back, arching her eyebrows while I looked her in the eyes. I sat with a stool separating us.

At this point, she and I were the only ones sitting at the bar. Not to say the bar was empty, because there were five other guys about equidistant from the lady. They were arrayed in a semi-circle and were obviously working up the nerve to approach this cutie. Losers. I quickly determined that if she were to get lucky tonight, it would be with me. As if to confirm my plan, the cutie turned her back to the guys and faced the bar, as I was.

Vickie the bartendress came over and greeted me like I was an old friend. I sensed my earlier chatting had made her an ally. I didn’t need to sell myself too hard, because she was perfectly happy selling me to the girl.

What do you want? Vickie asked.

Do you mean to drink? I winked at her. Vickie laughed as if I were clever. I guess a buttery nipple, I answered. I turned to see the sexy girl looking at me from the corner of her eyes. Do you like buttery nipples? I asked her.

She raised an eyebrow at me, and deadpanned, Do you mean to drink? I laughed hard at that. Touché!

Give the young lady a buttery nipple, I said to Vickie, still chuckling. I forced myself to watch her make the shots, ignoring the girl so close to me. I could smell her perfume faintly, and I felt myself becoming intoxicated. I decided right then that if the hottie would have me, I would forego my marriage vows.

Vickie brought the shots. Where’s yours? I asked.

I’m not supposed to drink on duty, she said.

Not supposed to, or won’t? I smiled. I’ll pay so you aren’t robbing the till.

Hmmmm, Vickie smiled. Then she whipped up another.

I held up my shot. To new friends, I proposed. We carefully chinked the tiny glasses, then drank down the fluid.

Vickie then mentioned, bless her heart, that friends should at least know each other’s names. I’m Vickie, she said, this is C.S., and what’s your name?

I saw the girl pause, and then she said Bobbie. I knew from the way she said it that Bobbie was not really her name, but I didn’t care. I was glad to be able to call her something.

That buttery nipple was good, Bobbie said, but the name is a bit suggestive. She smiled cutely. You shouldn’t use such double entendres around good girls.

Oh, I’m sorry, I said, smiling in return, but wondering who she was trying to kid with the good girl comment. I didn’t mean to suggest anything. I’ll buy you another, and let you decide what you want.

Maybe later, she said. I can feel the ones I’ve had and I don’t like to lose control.

Fair enough, but how about you tell Vickie what I should drink? I offered. I’m pretty thirsty.

OK, she said, turning to size me up. She turned to Vickie, who had wandered off to give us some privacy. The gentleman would like a sloe screw, she said. She turned to smile slyly at me. She was very fetching.

Actually, how about a sloe comfortable screw? I countered, sliding to the stool next to her.

That is nicer, isn’t it? she asked, winking. Vickie, how about you give C.S. a sloe comfortable screw. Emphasis on comfortable. She winked again coyly.

Not me, honey, Vickie laughed. I don’t drink shots when I’m working, and I don’t screw the clientele. I heard a guffaw in the back, letting me know we had an audience. I bet the guys were hoping I went down in flames.

For my part, I tried to seem confident even though I was getting mixed signals. We were flirting outrageously, making lots of accidental contact, and we were both suggesting every sexy drink name we could. It seemed like we were drifting closer to intimacy. Plus, she was dressed so sexily, and looked like a tramp. On the other hand, she kept repeating that she doesn’t normally go out, and avoided giving out personal details like where she was from.

The biggest confidence killer is that she was just plain gorgeous. What man can truthfully say he deserves a woman so good looking?

Overall, it reminded me of foreplay with my wife. It was all about getting her comfortable, and it seemed to take forever. Forever is a long time to be charming! But I could detect her warming up inch by inch, drink by drink.

Finally, Bobbie had that nicely glazed look of a woman who was drunk, and didn’t mind it. I got the impression she had drunk in order to have an excuse to accept an indecent proposal. Vickie caught my attention and pointed at the clock. It was nearly closing time! Choking down my fears, I said, Now Bobbie, how about you come up to my room and we can get to know each other better?

She suddenly sat up straight, and tucked one of the face-framing strands behind an ear in a nervous gesture. I don’t go to strange men’s rooms, she said.

I know you don’t, I said. I just thought we could go up and you could freshen up before heading home. You know, splash some water on your face or have a coffee or something?

It’s the something I’m worried about, she smiled. At the same time, she laid her hand on my arm and was looking intently at me.

There’s nothing to worry about with me, but I’m worried that you might try to drive home, I said. You’re in no condition….

She leaned over and put her lips very close to my ear. I could feel her warm breath and could smell her perfume. Shhhh, she whispered softly, stop trying to convince me. Stop? Because she was convinced or because she was unconvinceable.

We had suddenly gotten very close physically, which made me feel almost giddy. I’d not been this close to a beautiful woman in years! I turned to whisper in her ear. I won’t try to convince you if you just say ‘yes’, I said. As I spoke into her ear, I was struck by how attractive I found updos at times like this.

The corners of her mouth curled up. I don’t normally go to men’s rooms, but…. Good lord her breath was hot and moist.

I pulled my face back to look her in the face. I nodded ‘yes’ while arching my eyebrows, asking the question without speaking.

‘Yes,’ she nodded. She grabbed her purse, then struggled to get off the stool without flashing anyone.

I stood quickly, and put my hands on her waist. She hopped off, and tottered on her heels into me. I hadn’t even looked, but now I felt her nipples pressing into me as I tried to keep her from falling down. Taking her hand, which felt warm and strange to me, I waved at Vickie and we walked to the elevators.

On the ride up, she seemed to be leaving us. You seem like a nice guy, she murmured.

I am, I said simply, wondering if maybe I shouldn’t have let her get so drunk. She had been very thirsty.

I don’t ever do this, she said, looking up at me.

Do what? I asked, as the elevator stopped.

Go to men’s hotel rooms, she said. I noted that she didn’t put up much resistance as I led her down the hall.

I stopped in front of my door. You know, you don’t have to come in if you don’t want to, I said. My tone said, ‘last chance’.

Who said I didn’t want to? she said, smiling yet again. I was struck by her beauty, but overwhelmed by her sexuality. I hadn’t thought enough about the possibilities to be aroused until now, but by the time I unlocked the door and stepped in I was hard as a rock.

Knowing that Bobbie was very drunk and could maybe pass out, I decided to press my luck immediately. I closed and locked the door behind me, then turned to her. She looked at me, as if unsure what to expect. Maybe it was a game to her, I didn’t know, but I needed to express what she could expect.

Stepping to her, I locked eyes. I didn’t know when I’d kissed such a beguiling creature, and I almost felt unworthy. Before I could overthink it, I cupped my hand behind her neck and pulled her lips to mine.

We’d had nothing but sweet drinks for the last hour, and so her breath was sweet. Sweet and hot. When our lips parted, it was pure pleasure to explore her mouth. She made little mewling sounds which were wonderful feedback. He tongue, passive at first became increasingly active, swirling around mine, playing games.

When we broke for air, I went for broke. Why don’t you take off your clothes? I asked.

Unsteadily, she stepped back, watching my reaction as she unzipped her dress. She pulled her arms through, and then let it drop. She was indeed braless, and her panties were nearly transparent. Turning around, she slipped her panties past her hips, exposing her pear-shaped ass to me. Then she turned around to reveal a hairless pussy. She stood there, completely shamelessly, her hands at her sides, nude to my eyes. I watched a slow smile build on her face.

Your turn, she said. I couldn’t match her sexy grace, so I didn’t even try. I pulled my shirt over my head, then let my pants fall, kicking off my shoes. Your socks, she prompted. There is no sexy way to take off socks, but focusing on speed seemed better than nothing. A few awkward moments and I was standing in my briefs.

I prepared to pull them down, but she said, stop. I stopped. She walked to me like a model on a runway, and wrapped her arm around my neck. She pulled me into a kiss while her free hand gripped my cock through my undies. Her thumb felt my eye, swirling the wet spot around and around.

I felt her naked skin next to mine as we kissed. Her heavy breasts pressed urgently against me, creating a heat (and not just where we had contact!). Her mouth was aggressive, her hand assured. Even in this moment of rising sexual energy, I had my last minute doubts.

Not about my motivation, but about hers. I knew why I was aggressive, but why was she? She was more than pretty, and must be accustomed to being pursued. But from the moment I sat down at the bar, she sent me signals of willingness. She didn’t need to be ‘easy’ like homely girls, so why was she? Alarm bells were going off, and I felt somewhat unsettled.

Of course, when she broke the kiss with a loud pop of suction, stared me in the eyes, licked her lips, and announced, I’m going to suck this cock of yours, I disconnected the alarm bells. I’m just a man, after all.

Bobbie sank to her knees, which I’d never experienced before. That very act made me feel powerfully aroused. It was as if she were preparing to worship my cock. I’d seen it happen in porn flicks, of course, but never had I had a woman on her knees. The submissive nature of it was very appealing.

Even more appealing was how she sucked my cockhead through the fabric of my underwear. Probably she was sucking the precum from my briefs, but her red lips were cupping my dick as well. It felt marvelous.

Even more marvelous was how she pulled my shorts down, squealing in delight at my terrifically smooth pubes, before gripping my dick, pointed it out, and wrapped those lips around it. I had to groan as her tongue danced around my head, wetting it. She sank slowly onto me, wetting my cock as she went.

Lesley had only kissed my dick twice in our marriage, and had never sucked like I imagined women did. Lesley had been my only lover until Bobbie, so I was quite unprepared for how good a proper blowjob felt. It was so hot and wet.

I couldn’t believe that a woman so sexy was sucking my dick. Bobbie looked up at me, her large brown eyes gauging my reaction, as the strands framing her face swayed back and forth as she bobbed. Her saliva was making my cock shine, and she making whiny sounds of need. Her hands were on my butt cheeks, pulling them apart as she pulled me into her mouth. I rose rapidly to the feeling that I was about to cum.

Bobbie, let me lick that pussy of yours, I said. She didn’t disagree, but stood and kissed me with that cocksucking mouth of hers. With her patented sly smile, she strolled to the bed and got on her hands and knees, spreading her knees far apart. Then she looked back at me, as if to say come and get it.

I found it hard to not spew right away as I ran my hands over her rump and contemplated where to start. Her pussy was a pink gash, very wet. I slid my tongue authoritatively between her lips, parting them. Oh God, she tasted good.

My wife Lesley had never shaved her pussy, and had barely bikini waxed. So Bobbie’s smooth skin was an enormous turn on, in and of itself. But her gasps and shakes and juiciness made it all the better. It was a tremendous pleasure for me to eat such a pussy.

Hold on, Bobbie gasped. Lay on your back. I slid up to be on the bed, laying on my back. She explained, I want to sit on your face. Wow!

Again, Lesley pales in comparison. She barely likes sex, let alone oral sex. She protests when I beg her to sit on my face, and rarely does. But Bobbie… ah! She threw a leg over, and straddled my head. Her shoes, still on, scraped my shoulders but I didn’t care. It was the height of pleasure that she still had them on, a signal of her sexual femininity.

Bobbie looked down at me, running her fingers through her pussy. Her eyes didn’t quite track, but I couldn’t tell if it was because of lust or because the drinks were hammering her. Maybe both. But who cares? She scooped some of her juices with her fingernail and offered it to me. When I eagerly licked and sucked it, she settled down to ride my mustache.

This was all about her pleasure. Each of us thought so. She gripped my hair and pulled me into her cunt, even as she pressed it down on my face. I was trapped and used as she slid her wetness across my lips. But that was what I wanted, and I stuck my tongue out to give her another place to grind. My whole face became slick as her slippery smooth skin spread her wetness.

Abruptly, she stopped. Sliding back, she straddled my stomach. Like a scene from a sexy movie, Bobbie reached up and undid her updo. Her curls fell into wavy length of blondeness. I associated it with the old country song, Behind Closed Doors:

But when we get behind closed doors

Then she lets her hair hang down

And she makes me glad that I’m a man

It was like she was giving herself over to her lust, and this was confirmed by a slightly slurred I think I need to fuck you now. Shit!

I laid there as she slid further back, straddling my hips. She gripped me, and pointed me towards her hot tunnel. Then she settled onto me, tight as a virgin. It was unbelievably pleasurable.

When I said she was tight as a virgin, I wasn’t exaggerating much. She acted like a slut, but she didn’t seem to get much fucking. Maybe she just had good muscle control, but I was glad Bobbie was so damn wet. It was another surprising thing about her.

I was so afraid of cumming! I wanted it to last with her, but she was so exciting in so many ways. Thankfully, Bobbie was intent on her own pleasure. She sat on me, swaying back and forth, rubbing her clit fiercely. Without the friction, I could hold off maybe.

I could easily see her swollen clit. She pulled back the hood, and then spun her red-lacquered nails around and around it. She whipped her plentiful juices into a froth. I was unable to move for fear that at any moment I would cum.

You are so sexy, I whispered, awestruck.

You think so? she asked. You like watching me? I just moaned. You want a closer view?

Oh, GOD! I cried. I couldn’t really speak… everything was so exciting.

Happily, she interpreted what I said and pulled off me. She slid forward, and sat almost on my neck. Then she leaned back, giving me an intensely close view of her pussy. I could see her canal, still open from my cock’s recent presence. Her juices were coming out as I watched.

Bobbie began to masturbate, right in front of me. Her fingers were a blur as they dipped down to collect juice and to massage her lips, then slid back up to lube her clit. Her entire vulva, shaved and slick, was shiny with her juices. The smell was intense, the sounds sloppy. She was sitting on my chest, constricting my breathing, which made it all the hornier.

Bobbie, I’m gonna cum, I told her. In fact, given my extreme horny feeling, I was surprised I hadn’t already.

Don’t! she ordered. I fought, but I could feel her blonde hair brushing my cock, tickling it, exciting me. I was so close. I’m so close! Bobbie whimpered. I’m too drunk! I’m so close!

I had gotten thus far by being aggressive with her, and I decided to end it that way too. C’mon, I said, summoning my strength to move her off my chest. She tumbled over, falling onto her back, and I literally dragged her so that her head was on the pillow. I leaned over her, locked on her eyes, and announced I’m gonna fuck you!

Oooohhh! she squealed. I positioned my cockhead at her opening, and slid in. Oooohhh! she moaned.

The action had restored some control to me. I guess being passively teased was making me closer. Now being the one in control gave me more self-control. I sank into her hot tight tunnel until I felt her hot wet pussy lips pressed firmly against my shaved pubes.

I leaned over her and kissed her voraciously. Her mouth opened before I even reached it, so my tongue sank as deep into her as my cock was. I slid slowly in and out, feeling her moans on my tonsils.

Again I felt my orgasm nearing. It was understandable. I was fucking the most lovely, sexy girl I had ever had. She was like a porn starlet, ready and willing to fuck, and loving it. I know this sounds like a wet dream to a cuckholded hubby, but I am sure I’ll have wet dreams about her for months to come.

She reached up and pushed my face away. Harder, she whispered. I shifted, pressing her shoulders down as I supported my weight on my hands and began to pump vigorously. She deserved whatever she wanted.

On their own, her ankles rose so that her hips were optimized for deep penetration. I lifted off her and gripped her ankles, throwing them over my shoulders. Her red fuck-me pumps were like earmuffs as I shoved myself hard into her, recoiled, and did it again. We both grunted, and moaned.

Just fuck me hard and fast, she pleaded. I’m so close! I went for broke then, determined to not worry about holding off. She wanted hard and fast? She got it.

The bed creaked as if it were going to break as I pistoned in and out. That added to the wet slapping sound of my juice-covered balls smacking her ass. I rapidly rose to my peak, and just as I was about to announce I was cumming, she came.

Her orgasm clamped down around my plunging shaft, gripping me over and over as she throbbed on me. Of course, I didn’t hold off at all, but began to squirt shot after shot of my cum into Bobbie.

I moved her ankles off so that I could lie on her and kiss her as we came. I felt my body relaxing, and stopped kissing her and put my face in her neck and apricot-smelling hair. It felt so good to be so free. I lay there, feeling my cock shrink and eventually plop out.

Drowsily, I rolled off Bobbie. One look told me she was asleep. Her breathing was regular, her eyes were closed, and her lips were curled into a pleasant smile. I decided to let her sleep, and thought perhaps I could get another fuck before she left.

I rolled off the bed, wanting to turn off the lights we had left burning. I looked at the gorgeous Bobbie, sprawled so sexily in a post-orgasmic glow. I gazed affectionately at her pussy, shiny and wet. Then, I did a double take. I could see my cum oozing from her.

I looked at her, wondering if I dared clean her. Then I remembered how hot she had acted. Bobbie hadn’t rejected anything. She had seemed open to everything. Surely she wouldn’t mind if I cleaned her sloppy cunt?

Slowly, I laid on the edge of the bed and gently pressed her legs apart. I stared at her pussy, open still from the fucking, and leaking semen. I had given her a big load, left over from the frustration of the night before. And now it was oozing out.

I had last minute doubts. Would I like it? Would I be grossed out? Only one way to tell: I moved my lips to hers, and stuck out my tongue, taking a tentative taste of my first creampie.

It tasted strongly of sperm, but was almost as strongly flavored with her juices. The texture was smooth and creamy since Bobbie had been so wet. It was all I had dreamed, and I spread her apart to bury my tongue in her.

I felt Bobbie move, her hips beginning to undulate as I explored her flowing pussy. I couldn’t believe she was responding like this even in her sleep. It had been a long time since I had felt a woman respond to me like this, and it was very reaffirming.

I gently pulled her open and buried my tongue in her sap. My taste buds were completely coated with the mixture, and with her moving against me, so were my lips and mustache. It was everything I had fantasized it would be. So aromatic, so thick, so hot, so completely sexual.

I quickly became erect again. Laying on my stomach, with my face in Bobbie’s sticky cunt, I rubbed my dick on the bed. Already, I felt ready to cum. That presented a problem, since I wasn’t about to rape a sleeping woman.

Finally, in desperation, I slid up between her legs, and pointed my cock at her shiny skin. I came hard once more, but this time I could see the pearly strands ejecting from me, spraying right on to Bobbie’s pussy. I tried to aim at her clit was delicious success.

With another groan, I went down and lapped at her pussy. There was no mixture this time; it was pure cumeating. To my delight, she gripped my head in her slumber, and humped at my face. Perhaps she was semi-conscious, I didn’t know. But I do know she came quickly, spurting out an antique-white glob of creampie that I had to suck down before it ruined the bedding.

Now, I was spent. I hopped off the bed, and turned off the various lights around the place. Then I crawled back into bed and lay with Bobbie. I slid my arm under her and cradled her to me. It was nice to snuggle with a woman, compared to the customary hostility in my wedding bed.

I woke up late, not having set an alarm or a wake-up call. Bobbie was already awake, looking at me. You’re so beautiful, I murmured. She just smiled. How about I call my office and say I am sick? I had planned to take some clients to the Mansion at Turtle Creek for lunch, but I’d rather take you.

I’d like to, she said, her voice tinged with regret. But, I need to get home. Last night was great, but it can only be last night. Do you understand?

I did. I was just a fuck to her. I understood, and even realized it would be better for me if we just never saw each other again. But, I had felt the emotional attachment sex brings, and was reluctant to let the feelings go. I hadn’t felt anything in so long that even post-sex affection was thrilling. I wondered how much of my feelings was just an attempt to be gallant.

Yeah, I suppose, I said. I wish it could be more than just last night, but I do understand.

Well, then how about we make it a little more, she smiled. Call your office and tell them you’re running late. I did, and Bobbie and I had one last fling. This time, being more comfortable with her, we screwed for quite some time, until we were both hot and sweaty. This time when I filled her with cum, I merely slid down and sucked at her, reveling in the way she calmly enjoyed my particular interest. She came, and again burped out creampie. I cleaned it up, and we took a nice warm shower.

She left quickly, hair still wet. Only then did I kick myself. I could have asked for a number. We didn’t need to be regular lovers, but maybe she would have allowed a visit whenever I was in town.

I was packing my things, because I was checking out. On my last run-through, I came across her tiny purse, which had been kicked under the bed. There were no car keys, so perhaps she took a taxi or something. Besides the tube of red lipstick, there was in the torn lining a business card!

It was Bobbie’s. I read the card, then pocketed it. I could have taken the purse by, but clearly she was uncomfortable around me. She had fled, I supposed, because she had regrets about being the slut she had been the night before. At least I knew she hadn’t lied about her name, and that made me feel oddly relieved; I had begun to wonder if she weren’t married too and that a husband might be coming for me.

I had to hurry to keep my luncheon at one of the top restaurants in America, but the leisurely lunch gave me time to get a good idea. I stopped by a florist on the way to the airport, and ordered a huge bouquet of flowers. I wrote a note, explaining I had found her bag, and giving her my mobile phone number. I sent the whole shebang over to the address on the card.

I was flying Southwest Airlines home, and with the stop at the florist I was nearly late for my flight. They board in order of arrival, so I was about the last one on board. As I was walking down the aisle to my middle-of-the-row seat in the very back, I heard a phone ring. I might have been hearing things, but I could have sworn I heard Bobbie’s voice answering the phone!

I looked around the cabin, but I didn’t see her. The flight was so brief I didn’t have time to get up and prowl the plane, looking more closely at the women. By the time I got off the plane, hardly anyone was left in the gate area. Bucking up, I drove home to my wife, feeling horribly wistful.

One good thing did happen at home though. That night, Lesley and I made love. She was contrite, as if she regretted being so tough on me. That wasn’t the good thing.

The good thing is that I no longer had a creampie fetish. Having experienced it, the fascination was broken. I could enjoy each aspect of our lovemaking in its own right, without angling to eat the cream from Lesley. I relaxed, and Lesley responded. So, perversely, by not forcing her, she gave it to me: she not only let me eat her creampie, but sat on my face as I did. Wow!

I had so many things to thank Bobbie for, but oddly enough my affair with her saved my marriage.

Reference:

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