How I Acquired My Taste For Fucking Other Men's Wives - Sex Stories

How I Acquired My Taste For Fucking Other Men's Wives

... she wanted my cock, I wanted her cunt; we both wanted to fuck. How much better could it get. Eventually, as cool as anything, Emily said, “I want you to cum inside me.” Still no overt signs of excitement, just that steely depravity in her eyes. I didn’t reply, other than to thrust my cock harder inside her, surprised to find that I did have a higher gear. Alright, I would cum in her, this woman, who was, after all, offering herself as a vessel. I was determined to match her, and steeled myself so as not to give away too much of the delight I felt as my cock contracted and spurt after spurt of sperm was ejected into Emily’s moist vagina. Now the woman allowed herself a little smile as she wriggled backwards on the table. I took a step back, a drop of slime falling from the tip of my cock to the floor. “Greg, darling!” Emily shouted. “Can I see you in the kitchen for a moment?” I retreated still further, but there was no way I was going anywhere. Emily hadn’t said Greg and I couldn’t be present together, just that I was to pretend he wasn’t there. Emily’s legs were still wide open, and I watched as my semen slid out of the woman and formed a small puddle on the table. Then Greg appeared in the doorway. “I want you to lick my pussy,” Emily told him. In the event, Greg pretended that I wasn’t there as much as the other way round. He walked straight up to his wife and buried his face between her thighs. “That’s right!” Emily breathed. “Eat my newly fucked cunt! Be my cuntsucking ...

... little manservant!” Greg got busy between his wife’s thighs, but she didn’t look at him, locking eyes with me instead as I stood there with my slimy cock poised between relaxation and renewed arousal. Even as I stood there, I realised that I wasn’t half as repulsed at seeing Greg lapping at Emily’s newly spunked cunt as I had been to see him with sperm-encrusted panties over his face. Maybe it was the knowledge that it was I who had shot my sperm into his wife, or maybe I was already getting used to the concept. At any rate I just stood there, revelling in the cool depravity in Emily’s eyes, watching as her chest heaved and her body arched. Now she let out a great, ear-piercing scream as her body shuddered. Then she was back to normal. “Good boy,” she said, swinging her body round and patting Greg on the head. “Now get this mess cleaned up. I’ve got work to do.” As she left the room, she saw fit to give me what I can only describe as a co-conspiratorial wink. I followed her out, leaving Greg to his domestic duties, my eyes glued to Emily’s arse as she pulled her skirt down. She turned left and I turned right, returning to my room, finding the silky black knickers she’d left on the floor. I picked them up and hung them on a nail above the bed, as a kind of trophy. Two days passed. Still not entirely sure of how much advantage I could take, I contented myself with undressing Emily with my eyes whenever I saw her. She and Greg, however, behaved with surprising normality towards ...