Cuckold Valentine - Sex Stories

Cuckold Valentine

... mockery. “Come on, honey,” she went on with mockery in her voice. “Don’t be so tense watching your lovely wife on her knees in front of the city! Let me help you!”

Her well-manicured fingers quickly opened Brian’s fly and took out his cock. It was already throbbing in anticipation. Greg meanwhile pounded Alicia’s mouth as it was a pussy, hard and fast by her hair, having her drool on the gray carpet beneath. Her fingers were furiously playing on her clit now, she was clearly enjoying the filthy act of being face fucked by her nasty colleague.

Brian shuddered as Erica started jerking his cock slowly. His voice was completely muted by the loud gagging of his wife's face fucked balls deep like a porn star. Brian couldn’t believe the lovely Valentine’s Day evening they had planned turned into this crazy orgy.

Greg pulled his cock out of Alicia’s gaping mouth now. A thick strand of saliva was connecting the head of his cock to her lips like a bridge of debauchery. The faithful wife on her knees was still masturbating furiously, with her eyes closed. Greg knelt to her, opened her lips with his fingers, and then spit a large amount of saliva into her mouth. The sudden arrival of the hot fluid on her tongue surprised Alicia so she opened her eyes with a devilish smile on her face. She looked into her lover’s eye with lust and submission, then with the last moves of her fingers, she just came right there and then, in front of the three people watching her.

The trembling ...

... went through her body and she even shrieked out a little. Greg still kept her head and face in his palms steadily, watching her orgasm, and kept on jerking his own cock.

“Come on the bed, my love,” he stated as the waves of pleasure started to calm down in her. “It’s time I make you mine again.” And he backed to the white sheets, pulling his lover with him.

On the bed, Greg shifted, the sheets crumpling under him as he beckoned Alicia with a crooked finger. She rose, her body a red flame against the cool neutrality of the room. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment – hers alight with wild abandon, his darkened by a cocktail of desire and despair.

"Come here," Greg said, patting his lap. His tone was casual as if inviting her to share a swing at the park rather than her carnal eclipse.

Alicia straddled him, sinking with a sigh that seemed to pull the air from Brian's lungs. The bed groaned under their combined weight, a creaking soundtrack to Alicia’s unrestrained movements. She rode Greg with an intensity that spoke of hunger long denied, back arching, head thrown back in reckless ecstasy.

"God, you’re so much better than he ever was," she breathed, lost in the rhythm she dictated.

"Of course I am," Greg responded, his hands guiding her hips with firm insistence.

The sight was too much and yet not enough; Brian’s heart hammered against his ribs, each beat echoing the slap of skin on skin. This was no longer about love or even lust – it was about power, ...