Inspired by BredJones's entertaining opus, I thought I'd share a "cheating wife" story of my own.
At one point in my working career I was the head of maintenance for a large fleet of medium-duty trucks. School buses, to be exact. The job was long hours and lots of paperwork hassle, but it did have one distinct fringe benefit; a constant stream of bus drivers coming and going from their routes, a few of them being quite attractive housewives. I, meanwhile, was struggling through a bad, 15-year first marriage, and was just plodding through the motions of life. When any sex did happen (which was, ohhhh, every couple of months maybe) she was a cold fish and would become visibly exasperated if it took more than 10 minutes. And that was the least of my problems. Home life in general was perfectly awful.
After I'd been running the bus lot for about a year one of those driver housewives, a great looking 40-ish redhead, began hanging around the shop more than she reasonably should have. I was so wrapped up in my own domestic problems it took my dumb ass a while to notice what she was up to. When it finally did dawn on me I thought to myself, "the last thing I need right now is another layer of complexity on a situation I'm barely managing as it is." I'd been raised to believe that you stayed with a marriage through thick and thin, but I felt stuck and trapped. So, I tolerated the redhead's come-ons and merely flirted her right back. This went on for several months becoming more forward and overt as time went on. Finally she took matters into her own hands and asked me to take her to lunch. Just for fun, she said. A change of pace. Gossip about everybody else at work.
Well . . . okay. So we went to lunch. There was so much sexual tension between us we didn't do too much talking. Kinda sat there and exchanged pleasantries, talked about the weather, some general get-to-know-ya type things, lots of silence and smiling. After lunch she suggested we drive down the street to a quiet public park to "continue our conversation," which we did. I do realize this all sounds like she was leading a reluctant and clueless newbie by the nose, which it exactly was. I found out later she'd been down this road more than once but I was a cheating neophyte. I'm still not exactly sure who touched who first, but after we'd been sitting in the car for about 10 minutes making a losing effort at talking, we were suddenly all over each other, kissing and petting like crazy. About 10 minutes after that her pretty red head was bobbing up and down in my lap, my cock banging against her tonsils. I was so blown away by what was happening I couldn't concentrate and work up an orgasm. She worked at it for a while longer, uttering small pleasure grunts and making lots of sucking noises, but finally gave up and giggled a little, came up for air, and we deliciously made out a while longer with her slowly and lazily stroking my still rock-hard cock.
At some point we eventually made it back to work. Needless to say, I didn't get much done the rest of the day. Following the afternoon bus routes I purposely hung around to see what might happen. Sure enough, she appeared at my office door with a wry smile just to say goodbye. I was ready for her this time and pulled her into my office, slammed and locked the door, and we immediately picked right up where we'd left off. She flopped right down to her knees and sucked me up, then turned around and bent over my desk in an unspoken invitation to fuck her from behind. I flipped her dress up over her back and discovered she was pantyless. In fact, she never wore any underwear, and claimed she didn't own any. I know I never saw any the whole time I knew her. And she never wore slacks or pants. Ever. Always a skirt. So she bent over my desk and I shoved my cock into her, and right then the porno soundtrack started. She was absolutely the noisiest chick I had ever fucked. Imagine the most obnoxious panting/whining/screaming/yelling porno chick performance you've ever heard and you about have her pegged. And she was that noisy every single subsequent time I ever fucked her. As soon as the head of my cock touched her pussy lips that moaning and yelling would start up, and would not stop until we stopped fucking. Sometimes she made so much noise I had difficulty staying focused enough to cum. So, that first afternoon I'm pumping away and she's putting on such a vocal performance I was afraid she was going to get us busted, but by that point I didn't care.
I stopped long enough to turn her around and planted her ass on the edge of the desk. She had helpfully unbuttoned her blouse by this time so I got my first good look at her naked. Tall girl; about five-eight. And lean. She never weighed more than about 135. Cute li'l teacup titties, with tiny, button nipples. Wide, womanly hips, and even after two kids, a perfectly flat stomach. And the pièce de résistance; a perfect, triangularly shaped, tangerine colored muff. God, her muff was beautiful. Thick and soft, and always changing. I'd pull her dress up to fuck her and it'd suddenly be gone, or trimmed down to a box. Then it'd be back to a full triangle. Always a surprise, and always a pleasure to behold.
She leaned back, pulled her legs up and we started fucking again. I drank in the sight of my cock rhythmically disappearing beneath her beautiful orange thatch, and finally felt the cum pressure building. Ignoring her yelping, I came so hard it felt like my diaphragm was being sucked out along with the jizz. We stood there for a long while afterward, her skirt on the floor, my pants around my ankles, locked in a tight embrace, kissing deeply, my semi-hardon pressed firmly against her muff. "Mmm, I gotta go home," she murmured finally. "Told the kids I was going to make chocolate chip cookies tonight."
To be continued~
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