The Family BBC - Chapter 8 - Sex Stories

The Family BBC - Chapter 8

... criminally violated if it's against her will.

My experience was one of my world crashing upon my shoulders. I was betraying my husband and neglecting my children. "No, no no no..."

"Shhhh, Colleen." Leland continued to kiss and fuck me, but I didn't climax again that night.

He fucked me that following morning. I pleaded him to let me go home. He fucked me two hours later. The man was a bull. I had a milder climax, not quite a real orgasm in my book. He didn't lord it over me that second time. I think he just failed to notice it. I had kept quiet through my brief, pleasurable throes.

Finally, he led me down to the lobby, my 'birthday party' clothes in terrible disarray, my hair and skin filthy from the room and Leland's cum.

It was finally check-out time. He escorted me to my Volvo and opened the door. "You still owe me." Leland shut me in and wandered down the shadowed street. I sat in the locked vehicle until I had spilt what tears remained in my eyes.

The kids were at school when I returned home, but George had stayed out of work. I wept fresh tears in his embrace. He patted me awkwardly, jealousy and sympathy at odds in his heart. He guided me to our bedroom.

There, he drew a hot bath and helped me step in. I nearly begged him to drown me, but I was too afraid of being rejected. For the first time, George saw the welts on my body, but he did not falter in supporting me.

My grieving husband waited in the chair by his bed. I heard him sniffing ...

... unhappily.

When the water grew cold, I climbed out, toweling myself while going to him. "You're amazing, George. You did your best yesterday.

I did not, Colleen. His head remained bowed. "I hated you, really hated you for letting him in our home. He's been here before, right."

He didn't need me to confirm his suspicions. "The only hate you have, My Love, isn't for me. You had no choice. Please, Husband, forgive yourself."

"I try. I know the truth. Mr. J- LEland is the one responsible. But I did think ill of you obeying him."

"How so?" I sat on the edge of the bed across from his chair.

He had to wrestle the question from humiliation's grip. "Did obeying him turn you on?"

I shook my head. "I hated it, but what I hate worse is my inability to stand up for myself."

"Tell me about it." His lone jibe submerged into a sea of shame. We sat for an hour wanting to hold each other, both unable to enact that hypocrisy.

The children walked quickly after their release from school. I was wearing my opaque robe, but bra and panties would have been torture. "Mom! Why were you gone all night?" Ridley shook me in his hugging arms. I winced under his embrace, hearing his frustrating. "I wanted you to tuck me in bed!"

"Pooh, you're too old to be tucked in." I patted his hair as arrhythmically as he hugged me. "But it was my Birthday!"

"I can tuck you in tonight, if you really want."

"Don't be a pest, Brat. You may be fourteen now, but your special day is over." Peg ...