The Devil's Pact, Tales from the Best Buy Incident: Obsession - Sex Stories

The Devil's Pact, Tales from the Best Buy Incident: Obsession

... picturing the perfect cock—how it felt filling up my pussy, stretching me to the breaking point. I remembered riding the man, his brown eyes staring up at me; two watery orbs centered in a squat, ugly face. But his cock! God, I needed it badly. I slipped my vibrator up inside me, the plastic buzzing away, churning my insides and I quivered on the toilet seat. It was wider than my husband's; I bought it last week, hoping the girth would help with my obsession. At the very least I hoped I could get an orgasm out of it. While I've cum with the – small quakes that just make life bearable – it never leaves me satisfied. Damn Mark Glassner, and damn the authorities for letting the monster roam free! Mark was in the news more and more. When I saw Carlos Gutierrez’s damning report on Mark Glassner and police corruption Monday night, I had been furious, screaming at the TV. The bastard had the FBI agents and SWAT in his pocket, bribing them with sex. He seemed untouchable. All I wanted was to go back to the way things were before I walked into that fucking Best Buy! I was happy with my marriage, satisfied with my husband's cock. It wasn't fucking fair! I furiously pumped the vibrator in and out of my pussy. I needed to cum, badly. I needed the stranger's dick in me! Marshal's cock felt just good enough to get me going. Just not good enough to get me off anymore. My cum was nearing, I closed my eyes, imagining the stranger was pumping into me, that delicious shaft rubbing through my ...

... tight cunt. I bit my lip, stifling my moan as that delicious shudder rolled through my body and left me shaking. The edge was gone, I could sleep. But his cock still filled my mind as I laid my head down on my pillow. I glanced at my husband's sleeping form and wished it was him. I almost cried. It just wasn't fair. Why couldn't I be obsessed with my husband's cock? Why did my body want to drive me crazy? Sleep was long in coming, and I had to slip off to the bathroom two more times with my vibrator before I finally passed out in exhaustion. Morning arrived far too soon. My eyes were fuzzy, my mind barely functioning, as I stumbled through the morning routine: I start the coffee while Marshal took his shower, then I'd take my shower as Marshal cooked breakfast. He was a far better cook than I ever was, and secure enough in his masculinity to not care about that. I loved him for it. Why couldn't I also lust after him? Today was the third week since the Incident, as the media dubbed the orgy, happened. A few of the victims had organized a support group, and the first meeting was tonight at the Eagles Lodge in downtown Puyallup. I was excited to go. I hoped the stranger would be there; if he showed up, I knew I was going to cheat on my husband. I needed to feel that cock inside me. It was all I could think of at work. I dropped a pen into my pen-cup, my pussy got wet; I poured cream into my coffee, white like his cum; I popped a quarter into the vending machine, into that slot, ...