The Reunion - Sex Stories

The Reunion

... trekked home from his neighbor's house, after begging a ride. Linda, a decent friend, worked in Accounts across from him and lived a block away. After his car broke down at work, she offered to drive him all the way home, but he insisted on not burdening her. Besides, the walk home would let him pick flowers for his wife; after a month of improved relations with her, he was a much happier man and would do anything to keep things afloat. So, when he unlocked the front door to the house, his hopes and the flowers in his hand - petunias, Kristen's favorites - were fresh and healthy. He had been craving the sound of his wife's voice greeting him home. Unfortunately, the only sounds he heard upon entrance were the animalistic cries of two people clearly having sex. He quickly walked to the stairs, his mind aflame with confusion. Soon, the female of the voices screamed aloud. "Oh GOD!" Kristen. That was Kristen. It was his wife. First, his heart sunk. He walked up the stairs, his body going numb and the world around him beginning to spin. "Fuckk!! You bigggg fuckingg boyyyy! Stir me gooooddd! EEEK!!" his wife shrieked, her request obviously fulfilled. Second, his heart grew cold. Almost as a defense, he began recounting all the boys and men in his wife's life. Out of his control, his brain put to work imagining each one in between his wife's legs on his marital bed. Yet, as he approached the top, he realized that the noises were not coming from his bedroom, but from the right ...

... side of the stairs. Third, his heart began to ache. Oh god, was the bitch cheating on their son's bed? In the domicile of their only child? "Aaanh!! Nobody fills me like thissss!! Ohhhhh!!" Kristen grunted with a voice that her husband had never heard. As he passed the bathroom, he learned that indeed she was. He neared the end of the balcony, adjacent to his son's room, the sickening sounds now at a fever pitch. From here, he could see that the door was flung open. He queasily wondered if it belied a clear conscience or a practiced ritual - or both. With all the curiosity left in his soul, he turned to face the doorway. Last, his heart broke. There was the love of his life. Her blond, matted hair flew wildly as her thighs propelled her ample ass up and down what seemed like a police baton with a marble handle. The ferocity and enthusiasm of her steady gallop was a sight unknown to Doug, and the religious look of enrapturement in her eyes and her craven lust indicated by her lolling tongue felt like a punch in the gut. Her right breast was being mangled and tweaked by a lone hand, and her left one was being enthusiastically devoured by a voracious mouth. There was his son. All but one part of his brain begged him to look away from the heights of passion that he couldn't have even imagined, much less have experienced. His rational mind stunned completely, the one part took over and he experienced everything. The musky, powerful stench. The sounds of psychotic ecstasy. The sweat ...