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

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

... fuck, harder! Yes, yes, yes! I'm coming. I'm coming, Bill! I'm coming in the last stall!” God, I wish I could cum like that, but my obsession wasn't hitting any of the right spots inside me. I slipped my finger down to start frigging my clit, rubbing my little button was going to be the only way I was getting off. My obsession froze when the bathroom door crashed open. God, please don't stop fucking me! I just wanted him to finish so I could forget about the entire incident, go back to my husband, and pretend this never happened. “Where the fuck is my wife!” a man roared. “Oh, shit!” Erin said, very loudly. “My husband's crazy! He nearly killed the last guy he caught me with!” “What?” the guy fucking Erin gasped. There was the sound of pants pulling up, a belt being buckled. The stall door opened and the guy fucking Erin made a panicked run for it. Erin laughed richly. “You scared the shit out of him, Bill. Now get in here and give me a good fucking!” There was a wet, squelching sound and Erin let out a throaty moan. “That's the cock I love. It makes me so hot when you're all jealous, Bill!” God, why was I even letting this guy fuck me? Why was I even obsessed with his cock? In the first stall, the third couple was pounding away, the woman gasping, “Cum in me, stud! Umm, I can't wait until my wife eats your cum out of my pussy!” Was everyone at this meeting a sexual deviant? Is this what Mark Glassner did to us? I didn't feel horny any more, I just felt dirty. I stood up, his ...

... cock popping out of my pussy, and I started pulling my panties up. “What the hell?” the stranger demanded. “This was a mistake,” I told him. “Like hell it is, cunt! You get me all hot and bothered, then try and leave me with a case of blue balls! You fucking finish what you started, whore!” He pushed me up against the stall. “No, stop!” I cried out. He was trying to force my thighs apart. “Someone, help me!” There were four other people in the bathroom. Someone would help me. He forced himself between my thighs, his hard cock searching for the entrance to my pussy. “Please!” I sobbed. The stall door burst open and Marshal was there, fury in his eyes. I had never seen him like that, ever. He grabbed my obsession, my rapist, and hauled him out, throwing him hard against the sinks. My obsession struggled to keep his feet, as my husband balled up his fist and slammed it into the guy's face. He fell to the floor and my husband kicked him in the balls. Twice. I was sobbing as Marshal led me out of the bathroom and out a back door. It was cooling off outside, the sun just disappearing behind the building. In tears, I confessed to my husband what happened. How I couldn't stop thinking about the guy; that I was so horny for him I was willing to cheat on my marriage just to get some satisfaction. Marshal didn't say a word until I finished, and then he just said, “Let's go home.” He wasn't angry, disappointed, heartbroken. He wasn't anything, just calm emptiness. Did he not care enough ...