," he had called her, out of earshot of her husband and his wife.
In retrospect, perhaps she had overdone it a bit from time to time. A flash of lace now and again, a breast resting snugly against his arm as she poured him another glass of wine, a little parting of the lips and quick swish of the tongue as they said goodnight following visits. Truth be told, these had been more for herself than to titillate David. That he may have been frustrated by these events had not really occurred to her, although she had detected an extra bulge in his trousers from time to time. The frisson this provided her, however, had been quite welcome, and had affirmed for her that marriage and maternity had not made her as undesirable as Michael seemed to think.
That Michael might be getting his elsewhere had of course occurred to her. He was in sales, and traveled in his job. She carefully watched Michael when the couples got together, for signs of intimacy between Michael and Marianne. Marianne worked with Michael, he in sales and she in "service." They shared clients, he said. He sold, she serviced. She wondered what else they might have shared and serviced, but never detected a suggestion of untoward affection between them. Was their lack of familiarity just a little too studied? When she had trouble getting to sleep, she would ponder the question.
It was not as though historically Michael had anything against sex. Certainly he had nothing against it when they dated at college. He had been quite as interested in fucking as she had been, and they had screwed in pretty much every nook and cranny of the campus at one time or another. His ardor had not seemed diminished when they married, or at least not at first. Her girlfriends had warned her that she might expect a slowing down after awhile, but she had never envisioned the chill which had fallen over their sex life during her pregnancy.
After the baby was born, she had told herself, things would be different. They were different, but not in the way she had hoped. Rather than picking back up, sex seemed to taper off even more than it had during the pregnancy. When she tried to talk to Michael about this, he denied that he felt any differently, or that there was a problem. He was happy with the frequency of their lovemaking, he said, and it seemed to him that she should be happy, too.
David and Marianne lived nearby, and it seemed natural the couples would socialize together frequently. Neither couple had extra money to spend on dinners out, and so having dinner together at each other's homes seemed the natural thing to do.
The first time she teased David with a look up her skirt, he had seemed ill at ease. At first. He had not seemed to be able to avert his glance, however, and she had let her skirt ride up as they talked and had let her legs fall open just a bit more as the evening progressed. David had squirmed and had to adjust himself to try to keep his growing erection as discrete as possible. She had tried to imagine what his cock looked like, and had felt her nipples harden and her thong get moist. She had felt desired, but had thought what a horrible person she was. It was a good thing that Marianne had been sitting away from David and could not share his view of her display.
She could not remember what had prompted her brazen behavior. She was not that kind of woman, she told herself. She just felt so unloved and unappreciated, and perhaps that was it. It was not as though she had not gotten her figure back. She had been careful during the pregnancy and had not put on a great deal of weight, at least compared to some of the other women in her prenatal classes. And she had lost all of the extra weight and then some pushing the baby in the stroller up and down the neighborhood hills in ensuing months. If anything, nursing the baby had given her figure an even more shapely set of curves, not to mention its effect on her libido.
During the ensuing week, after she put the baby down for its nap she would lie on her bed and masturbate. She would close her eyes and imagine David's cock in the place of her vibrator, repeatedly bringing herself to orgasm. It was better than no sex at all, and Michael certainly was not giving her any.
The following Saturday, they got together at David and Marianne's for a swim and barbeque. She had carefully chosen her swimsuit and cover-up for maximum effect while providing her with plausible deniability. Michael had not seemed to notice or to care. David had noticed, but if Marianne had thought anything of her outfit she had not betrayed those thoughts or commented upon it. David had really noticed, particularly when she had loosened the ties of the bra and had let it slip a bit as she climbed out of the pool, exposing a hint of nipples. She pretended to be oblivious, but had carefully noted David's attention, and his involuntary reaction.
When they got home that night, she had tried to engage Michael in sex, but he pleaded that he was exhausted, quickly rolling over and falling asleep. Well, if Michael was not interested, she thought, David had certainly been. The recollection fueled her fantasies for the following week.
Maybe she had let things get a bit out of hand in the following months, but she never considered that her self-stimulation might be wreaking havoc on David's state of mind. He had seemed more attentive to her, and his double-entendres had increased in frequency and pointedness over time. But she was brought up short when he had called her a "cocktease."
* * *
"Michael and Marianne are going to be out of town next week," she had said. "Why don't you come over for coffee? Call me."
Was this a come-on? She had seemed taken aback when he had called her a cock-tease as they cleaned up the kitchen last Sunday. Was she offended? Angry? Embarrassed?
"Come about 12:30; I will just have put the baby down for her nap. Don't ring the doorbell. I will leave the door unlocked, so if I don't answer a knock right away, let yourself in and I will be right down," she had said.
So David did.
David smelled the fresh coffee when he let himself in, helped himself to a cup and sat in the front room, pondering the situation. She came down the stairs five minutes later. "Let me get some coffee, and I will be right with you."
She reappeared with coffee in hand and sat herself down on the couch alongside him. "Would you like anything else?" she said. "Have you eaten?"
"I'm fine, thanks," David said. "To what do I owe this invitation?"
She looked nonplussed, David thought. But she took a sip of coffee and set her cup down on the coffee table with deliberation, and turned to him.
"Do you think I am a cocktease?"
Now David was nonplussed. Yes, of course he thought she was a cocktease. She had been flaunting herself for months, but playing the innocent. But how should he respond? With a denial or an apology? After calling her the inflammatory name, he had immediately regretted it. Now he was on the carpet for it.
"I guess I have been unfair to you recently," she said. "I would like to make it up to you."
David let this hang in the air as he mentally fumbled for an appropriate response. He was at a loss for words.
She leaned forward and wrapped her left hand around David's neck, drawing his face toward hers, and placed her lips on his. Her tongue slipped into David's mouth, and she sighed as he reciprocated. David's right hand encircled her back and pulled her closer to him on the couch as his left hand slid under her sweater and grasped her bare breast, pinching and pulling her nipple.
Sighing again, she sat back, took his hand and stood up. "Come with me," she said, and headed up the stairs to the master bedroom. "We will have to be quiet," she said, pointing toward the closed door of the nursery across the hall.
* * *
She closed the bedroom door and turned toward David. She silently shrugged the sweater off, dropping it to the floor. She held David's gaze as she unsnapped and unzipped her shorts, letting them fall to join the sweater. "Well, are you just going to stand there and stare," she said, " or are you going to get undressed and join me?" She turned and walked to the bed, turning back the comforter and sheets, sliding in and lying invitingly in the middle, with her knees cocked wide.
David needed no more invitation, nor motivation. He quickly shucked off his shoes and clothes and walked, nude, toward the bed with his erection proudly bobbing in front of him. He slid onto the bed and snuggled next to her. "I think you are a bit overdressed, don't you?" he said. As she pushed herself up on her elbows, David slid her camisole up and over her head, and lowered his lips to a breast. As he licked and sucked, his hand slid down her taut stomach, into her panties, and cupped her wet pussy.
She lay back as David sucked one breast, and then the other. This is what she had so missed, what she so needed. Her arousal climbed as he slid several fingers into her pussy while rubbing her clitoris with the heel of his hand. "God," she thought, "I don't think I have ever been this wet!" She bucked her hips into the probing, massaging hand, and felt her first orgasm sweep over her.
With her hands, she pushed David's head toward her pussy. "Eat me! Eat me!" she demanded and David was happy to oblige. Repositioning himself between her legs, David pulled the panties off and slid his hands under her buttocks, lifting her pussy to his mouth. Starting with her legs, David worked his tongue slowly around the glistening clitoris standing proud before his eyes. Moisture dripped from the lips of her pussy and he lapped it up hungrily. It tasted like it had been sweetened with honey, he thought. He repeatedly ran his tongue up and down the length of her pussy, and then down the taint and probed her anus. Her hips bucked wildly and she groaned loudly as another orgasm ripped through her. She clasped her legs around David's head, and for a moment he thought he might smother.
With a contented sigh she freed his head from captivity, and said, "Give me a moment to recover, please." David lay between her legs and waited for her breathing to slow and become regular. He intermittently let his tongue trace the length of her pussy, careful to avoid her glistening clitoris. Removing his hands from beneath her buttocks, he slid them under her knees and up her sides and gently grasped her breasts, still moist from her exertions. David softly kneaded them alternately, and grasped each nipple in turn gently pinching one, then the other, between his thumbs and forefingers.
As she began to feel her arousal quickening, she sighed, "Please fuck me. Fuck me hard!" David rose to his knees, and thought his prick might explode before he could plunge it home. David positioned the head of his cock between her moist lips and slid it up and down, massaging her clitoris. "Please! Please give it to me. I need you to fuck me now!"
And he did. David was afraid she might be so turned on and well lubricated that he would not be able to get off, but the walls of her cunt clasped his prick tightly as it slid in, and he could feel the veins in his cock as they slid in and out. The head of his prick banged against her cervix and found its way through. Diminishing the length of his thrust, David rubbed in and out, in and out. She arched her neck and back and pumped her hips in time with his. A bright red flush spread across her chest, her eyes rolled up in her head, and her fingernails bit into his buttocks as she tried to force his cock deeper.
With a keening wail, she came, her legs flailing about his hips spasmodically. And he came. He came like he had never come before. As he came, it felt like he was cumming molten glass containing sharp shards. Pulse after pulse. And then they were done.
David collapsed upon her chest. Both were awash with sweat, and breathless, gasping.
* * *
David sat perched on a kitchen stool, and she handed him a cup of fresh coffee. Michael sat at a table in the breakfast nook, reading the morning paper.
"It is wonderful to see you, David. Thank you for stopping by. How long has it been, and how are you?" she asked. The conversation took the predictable turns, catching up on each other's lives. "Has Marianne remarried? Where is she living now?"
In reflecting back on this conversation later, David tried to recall how the subject of infidelity had come up. Certainly he had not raised it, and when she had David glanced covertly toward Michael who seemed obliviously engrossed in the paper.
"I don't have a single woman friend who hasn't cheated," she said. Does that include Marianne? David wondered to himself. And is Michael listening, considering whether his wife has been unfaithful like all of her friends? Does he know about us?
And David is still wondering.
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