Fleeting Glimpses of an Angry Wife - Sex Stories

Fleeting Glimpses of an Angry Wife

... a plucked chicken's skin. Where my wife is elegant and graceful, Susan carries herself with a crude clumsiness. Although on a mere physical level Susan cannot compete with my wife, for reasons I find myself unable to fully comprehend I have always had the hots for her. There is a dark hot sensuality that oozes from every pore of her body and makes my head spin in a drunken spell of blind lust. Susan gets up and after looking down at me in what seems a moment of hesitation, reaches under her dress and pulls down her panties. On the way back up, she gathers her dress around her waist, exposing herself. Tufts of thick black hair cover the inside of her thighs. A lush triangle of curly black hair springs from between her legs and spreads upwards and sideways over the lower part of her belly. I think she's going to straddle me like she's seen my wife do, but she sits down instead and pulls her knees apart. She leans back and slides her ass forward until it reaches the rim of the sofa seat. Her groin is a jungle of thick bushy hair. Her cunt is barely visible beneath it, but I can see how dark the flesh of the outer folds is and how the black inner labia furl out like thick wrinkled pancakes. Hair sprouts from the dark cleavage where her asshole lies. I am pushed from behind and dive nose first into the wet marshlands. Susan pulls her cunt apart, framing my face with her dark cunt lips. I have no time to get ready. The forceful stream of urine hits me on the lips. She really had ...

... to go. I open up and allow the hot bitter piss to flood my mouth. It tastes like a strong exotic liquor, like fermented fruit juice, like butter tea spiced with strange herbs. My wife is behind me, both hands on my head and rubbing my face into the pissing cunt. I've got piss dripping off my chin and down my chest, my pants are getting soaked and the floor is a mess. My head is pulled back by the hair and as on signal, Susan starts gyrating her hips, spraying me up and down like she was extinguishing a fire. All too soon, the yellow stream lets down. I'm being pushed back in to catch the trickle. This is when I realize Susan is rubbing her clit with her index and middle fingers. I never paid a lot of attention to my wife's friends. That has changed. I am now the keeper of their most intimate secrets. Funny how wrong you can be about people. Take Helga. A fifty year old German spinster, tall and wiry, secretary to the senior partner of an important law firm. I have never seen her as much as smile. The look in her eyes reminds me of my old math teacher. I'm lying on the floor, naked. I'm not sure how I got there, but I'm terrified. 'So he is trained?' Helga is standing tall above me. I can see up her long grey skirt, two hairy legs towering, gradually fading into the darkness above. Her face is grave as she looks down at me. 'Oh yes. Absolutely. Broke him in myself.' My wife. 'He will take piss in the mouth?' 'My, he just loves to have you sit on his face and piss away.' 'I like ...