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Daybreak

This is a follow up to my story "Taken Unaware." Also look for "KJ: An Author's Story, biographical audio."

*

Jen awoke sensing a presence in the room. The accidental overdose of Valium had caused her to sleep through the party and through the night. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and saw Mike bathed in morning light at the foot of the bed. He wore a bath towel around his waist, his hair still damp from the shower.

She knew he was fit from rec league soccer but in the flesh he was more chiseled than she expected, with well-defined pecs and pronounced abs.

He let the towel drop. She stifled a gasp and fought to maintain eye contact with only partial success. Mike's penis was not fully erect nor was it flaccid; it was somewhere in between. Still, the sight of his cock caused her Bartholin's glands to blast her vaginal curtains with natural lubricant.

The audible gasp was not that it was especially large or notable in any particular way; it was that she was seeing her best friend's husband's penis at all.

Mike said, "Cindy is taking Madison to my mom's so you two can go have a girl day. It's about 20 minutes there and 20 minutes back plus any time she spends jabbering."

His presence was unexpected and a distraction that delayed her momentarily from taking stock of her own situation. Why was she naked and uncovered in front of her best friend's husband? Where were her clothes? How long had he been there looking at her? Why had he come straight from the shower and not dressed? She saw the bed sheet to her side and her instinct was to cover up, yet she did not.

Mike's friend Kelly's lurid accounts of sex with Jen echoed in his mind. He moved aggressively onto the bed preparing to mount the young woman. Startled, Jen reacted defensively pulling her knees to her chest to use her legs to fend him off. Mike perceived the movement as her offering her crotch to him and he aimed his girth into her pink middle. As he penetrated her she immediately processed an unexpected soreness, the product of Neil's carnal abuse the day before that her narcotized mind had not registered.

Jen's face looked as though she were about to cry. Her eyes reflected enough hurt and confusion to give Mike pause. He sat back on his haunches, causing the length of this penis to pull out, effectively ending the intercourse. But she followed, sliding towards him until she was able to take hold of his thighs and pull their middles together.

Though Mike had clearly initiated the contact, and even taking account of her deliberate move towards him, he wanted her to give him a discernible sign of consent. He held his rigid staff passively.

Jen arched her back and positioned herself to receive him deeper, first smearing his shiny helmet with her secretions, then aligning her labium, and finally pushing herself onto him firmly.

To be sure, to study the young mother's face alone you could not determine if the sex was consensual. Amid the intermittent cries of pleasure one might easily interpret looks of shame, guilt, emotional hurt, and a unique kind of fear. Not a monster under the bed kind of fear, but rather a fear of loss of control, a loss of propriety.

She had not even deigned to remind Mike he was married to her best friend. Or that he was her husband's close friend.

Mike watched her pelvis thrust into him and watched her raise up on her arms in order to position herself for full penetration. The legs that were first cocked defensively were now splayed salaciously, her ankles balanced at his sides.

As Mike hammered into her loins he admired her fit, toned body, especially enjoying the way he could make her firm natural B-cups shake. Cindy's saline implants bounced unnaturally - but Jen's natural breasts moved like God intended them to.

For years he had admired her smooth toned legs and now they were wrapped around him. Over the years he'd looked longingly at her firm bubble butt in tight jeans, short skirts, or swimwear - and now his ballsack was slapping against it. He'd seen her nipples poke through any number of tops, and now they danced upright before him.

As much an answered fantasy as it was for him, it was surreal for her. So much that she repeatedly lifted her head to watch the ongoing penetration thinking she must be in the midst of some sort of dreamscape.

The athletic young wife was still tight, and her muscle tone allowed her to grip his shaft like a college sophomore. She arched her back to position her engorged clitoris where it would be scraped with each penetration by Mike's veined member, a breathy cry of "uh!" marking each slam into the ligaments of her coccyx bone.

As his testes roiled he took hold of Jen's rib cage, she held his forearms. He moved her size-two torso in such an effortless way that he was basically using his friend's wife's vagina to masturbate himself.

After a savage coitus that left her chafed and weak, Mike pulled his cock out and jacked off on Jen's stomach, spraying partially webbed gobs of jizz from just below her belly button to the top of her already sweat-glazed breasts. She watched his seed land with a sinful satisfaction. She made no effort to wipe his semen off her breasts and midriff, instead wearing it as a badge of honor.

For Jen, most times taking the cum shot marked an end to the screwing, but Mike stuffed his still-hard cock into her slippery slot and resumed fucking her.

Being covered in cum and then still being fucked was a new and especially stimulating sensation for her and it washed away the shame and guilt on her face, replacing it with a contented smile.

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