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X O X O

12

Long story short, Angie had cheated on her husband and felt awful for it. What made her feel even worse is that she desperately wanted to do it again. She'd unleashed a part of herself that she had long kept hidden; a sexual beast that had no intention of disappearing back into darkness. This was the reason she had hid in the closet near the back door of their house. And this is why she had left a note for her husband, Carl, telling him she was out with friends, and that she would be home late. She wanted him to feel confident he wouldn't get caught when her plan went into effect.

The "plan" had arrived just seconds earlier, mere moments after Carl, himself, had gotten home from work. As expected, he invited Cindy in when she told him she had forgotten something in the guest bedroom.

Cindy was chosen for a number of reasons, one being that she was pretty laid back when it came to sex, and another that she wasn't likely to form an emotional attachment. Angie's nephew, Jim, had brought her home a few times from the bars when he stayed over on the occasional weekend. In fact, it was the sounds that Cindy and Jim made from the guestroom that had revamped Carl and Angie's sex life, and inadvertently led to Angie being horny enough to cheat in the first place.

Because of the very casual nature of Jim and Cindy's relationship, neither Angie nor her husband had ever formally met Cindy, but they had seen her either coming or going on more than one occasion. She was a very tall, bronze-skinned Latina, standing somewhere in the six foot area, but not weighing more than 130 pounds. She was 19, and looked it, with long, black hair with the ends dyed bright red. Likely B cups, her breasts weren't large, but on her thin body they stood out enough to catch the eye. Her flat ass wasn't the best-formed, but it was very small and tight. She had big brown eyes and seemed very pretty the one time they'd seen her smile.

Angie knew Carl fantasized about her. While they would almost always make love to the sounds of Jim and whoever his date that night was, Carl never seemed to snap into the mood as fast as when it was Cindy's screams they heard through the walls. And Angie saw a little glimmer each time Carl saw her that wasn't there when he saw the other girls Jim brought by. She never resented him for it, and now she was glad he'd been that transparent, because it helped her set up this little adventure.

The plan was so simple, Angie was surprised it worked. She went through her nephew's cell phone the last time he was in town, found Cindy's number, and called her up. She told Cindy that she wanted to give Carl a secret birthday gift--which was true, as his 34th birthday would take place just days after the plan was to go into effect--and that she wanted Cindy to be that gift. As expected, Cindy was more than willing, excited, even, to be a part of this. Cindy was to show up at the house looking for Jim at a time when Angie knew only Carl would be there.

To be clear, Angie wasn't trying to set up Carl to use his infidelity against him. She knew he was faithful, just as she had been until recently. This was just her way of apologizing without having to admit anything, a kind of peace offering. Besides, she was curious to see how far things would go before Carl finally gave in. Her worst fear, unbelievably, would be if he didn't give in at all. It would make Angie feel even worse than she already did. And of course, she knew that if Carl did give in, he would enjoy the moment very, very much. Cindy knew the basics of the situation Angie was in, and had promised to be unforgettable.

What Cindy didn't know was that Angie planned on being home the whole time this thing went down. Hell, until the afternoon before the big evening, Angie, herself didn't even know she was going to stick around. But thinking about her husband fucking another woman had gotten her unexpectedly hot, and she just had to be there, if not to see, then maybe to hear, and if she couldn't hear, the idea of doing something so naughty was just too much to say 'no' to.

Cindy had gone into the guest bedroom, where she and Angie's nephew Jim slept when he was in town. Angie wasn't sure what she was pretending to have forgotten, but it didn't matter. It was just an excuse to get her access to the house.

Sweetheart that he was, Carl behaved himself and just sat in his chair and held the newspaper in the living room, waiting for Cindy to find her whatever it was and be on her way. He was actually feeling a little uncomfortable, which is why he was holding the paper, but not functioning enough to read it. He was immensely excited being home alone with this young woman who he had heard orgasm no less than ten times. He had even cum in or on his wife to the sounds Cindy had made through the wall as he imagined what her face looked like while she fucked and climaxed.

Even now he felt his penis swelling. He silently cursed his wife, who had been teasing him but giving him no relief all week. Now he was horny as shit and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to stand up to let Cindy out the door. And Angie's teasing wasn't the only thing; Cindy had come dressed in high heels, a snug-fitting, colorful little dress, and had even had her long hair done and put up in a very classy, sexy display. Carl had always seen her in bar-slut outfits and her hair had always been in a post-fuck mess. The way she presented herself tonight made him very aware of his now full erection.

She came into the living room, slipping whatever she had come for into her little purse as she approached Carl, who didn't dare get out of his chair.

"Got it," she said. "Maybe I'll see you later." Then, as if it were an afterthought, "Where's...um...?"

"Angie," Carl said, dropping the paper over his crotch and trying to control his eyes by keeping them either right on hers or on the carpet. It was a failed effort. Her cleavage in that little dress was too delicious to ignore.

"Oh, right. Sorry."

"She's out with girlfriends," he said, hoping Cindy hadn't caught his lingering gaze.

To his amazement, Cindy rounded the chair and moved further into the living room, away from the back door where she had entered.

"That's what I'm supposed to be doing tonight," she said. "But I don't think I'm up to it." She laughed. "Girls' nights out can be so draining..."

"Yeah," Carl said, just to say something.

"...Especially when you've got men on your mind."

Carl swallowed hard.

In the closet with the door opened just a crack, Angie couldn't see but could hear the line, and she blushed. This was really happening! She was so nervous that she was shaking, and her skin was cold and clammy. She was sweating, but between her legs, she was also getting wet. She bit her lip, anxious to hear her husband's response.

"You, um...you miss Jim, huh?" he said.

In a move that both thrilled and terrified Carl, Cindy moved to the couch and sat on the cushion closest to him. She crossed her very long legs and leaned in toward him.

"Well, yeah, but I don't need him. We just have fun together. I'm looking for something better. Jim is, like, my age. I want someone with experience. I've been thinking about it all day. All week." She put a hand on his knee. "Hell, I've been thinking about it since I was sixteen."

Carl's body froze. He didn't even breathe. His tongue felt dry and heavy. His dick was hot and throbbing. It twitched so much, the newspaper covering it moved and made a crinkling noise—the only sound in the whole house.

"I've always been with guys my age," she continued, delighted with the impact she was having on him, and showing it with a sly grin. "But I've always wanted, I don't know, a man, I guess. A real man."

She gave Carl ample time to respond, and he took all of it, not forming words until she was just about to continue.

"I, I, I know some guys, some, ah, men from work, who you might like. I can give you a couple numbers..." He reached for his wallet on the end table between the couch and his chair. Cindy moved her hand from his knee to his shaking hand and smiled, looking him straight in the eyes.

"You know what this is, don't you?" she said in a soft, sexy voice with just a trace of her Latino accent. When he said nothing, she continued. "I'm coming on to you, Carl."

Carl's head spun as he tried to come up with something to say. Problem was, he didn't know if he should encourage her, or do the right thing and ask her to leave.

"I want you to fuck me, Carl," Cindy said, breaking his concentration.

As she said it, she slid to the edge of the couch, letting her little dress ride up, revealing her luscious, brown thighs, the trim side of her tiny ass, even a dark patch between her legs which might be panties, might be skin. Carl looked long enough to know he'd never be able to tell without a closer look.

In the closet, Angie was glad she was sitting down on a step stool, because her legs would have given out if she'd been standing when Cindy said those words. Desperate to see what was going on, she cracked the closet door just a little more, then slid a mirror on a handle out and angled it so she could see the living room. Since her closet was at the backdoor in the kitchen, the view of the living room beyond was distant, but she could still see Cindy move her hand up to Carl's arm, across his thigh, and then down to his crotch.

Carl let her. He was still frozen with lust and conflict. He was fifteen years older than this sexy little creature, but the thoughts running through his head made him feel like a teenager again. He thought about his wife and knew he loved her, but he also knew he would still love her, even if he did give in to Cindy's charms. So maybe it wouldn't be so bad...no. No. He shook his head, not believing that he was already trying to justify this. He just hadn't been hit on in a long time, and never so directly, and never by a woman he fantasized about so often. She had just caught him off guard. But he couldn't do this.

Then he felt her hand grab his crotch, beneath the newspaper but on the outside of his pants. She squeezed, gently. He didn't push her away. She squeezed again. Then again. Then she gave him a stroke, awkwardly, through his khakis. Their eyes were locked, hers hungry and in control, his full of fear and desire.

"Can I suck you?" she asked in a whisper.

His non-answer said plenty.

Slowly, seductively, Cindy got off the couch and went down on her knees at the foot of Carl's recliner. He watched, unmoving, as she took position, spreading his legs and looking down at his crotch, pushing the newspaper away while licking her lips. She unfastened him and grabbed his pants and boxers together by the waist, then slowly but strongly pulled them down. He felt himself lifting his buttocks to help her get the pants off. They went down, down. His erection sprang into view, huge and red and pulsing. His pants went further down, and Carl felt the thrill of being revealed and stared at by a beautiful, young stranger, a forbidden lover, a lustful fantasy.

His pants were off, past his ankles, discarded onto the floor. She took his socks off, then gently grasped his naked ankles. Her hands ran up his legs, to his knees, across his thighs. His dick bobbed in excitement. His chest heaved. His breath came irregularly.

Cindy leaned over him, bending her long, graceful neck so beautifully displayed thanks to her wearing her hair up, toward his chest. Her fingers were already unbuttoning his shirt, starting at the bottom. One, two, three were undone. Then all of them. She pulled the shirt open and kissed his naked chest. Her hands ran down his sides, toward his crotch as she licked his nipple, then the other.

Meanwhile, Angie was mesmerized as she watched via the mirror across the house. While she had set this up specifically to get her husband to submit, it might have bothered her that he was giving in to the seduction so soon—might have, that is, if she wasn't immensely turned on by what she saw. It was a sobering thought that would occur to her later, but right now all Angie could think about was how hot the scenario was playing out. This other woman, this little slut had brought her husband to his breaking point. She loved seeing the need he displayed as he squirmed, conflicted even though he'd already made up his mind. And to know that such a hot young thing like Cindy was going all out to bed Carl made him seem that much hotter, and made Angie that much more proud that ultimately, he was hers.

Cindy's fingers slid past Carl's dick and dipped below, cupping his balls with both hands. She leaned forward, positioning her head directly over his erection. Carl stared at her, straining to even breathe. Besides what was physically happening, and what was about to happen, he was elated to be in such close company with this beautiful, sexy young thing. Everything about her was so thin and fragile, yet her height made her imposing enough to pull off the seductress role perfectly. Just beyond where her arms reached out to him and held his warm, heavy testicles, her breasts were pressed together beneath her dress, and the resulting cleavage was enough to make any man lose his head. The way she touched him made him feel worshipped, as though she was his offering.

She lowered her head.

The reality of the situation struck him when she moved, and he suddenly sat up, grabbing her gently but firmly by the shoulders.

"I can't...I'm...married," he gasped.

But her head slowly continued downward as she gave her response. "I won't tell..."

As she hit the last 'l' in 'tell', her tongue rolled out and greeted his cock as her mouth closed around it. Carl lost control, his body stiff with tension yet melting into the chair. He gasped loudly, released her shoulders, then pawed at her back as she sunk her warm, wet mouth onto him deeper. His pawing inadvertently pulled up her dress enough to show him the bottom half of her tiny ass and the red g-string outlining it.

He thrust weakly into her face at the sight of it, and when the dress slipped back down, he knew he had to see it again. He pulled at her garment, this time deliberately, until it was bunched up near her shoulders. A red bra strap crossed her back just below it, but for the moment Carl just looked at her, taking in all that bronze, naked skin stretched so tight across her form.

Her head buried in his crotch, Cindy could feel Carl's eyes studying her as she made love to his manhood. She wanted him to touch her, waited for it, wished for it, was about to release him and beg for it, and then he did, placing a big, hot hand on her hotter flesh at the small of her back. He slid his hand across her, moving down to cup her ass cheek. Cindy sucked harder, faster. She moved a hand up to the base of his cock and stroked what she couldn't engulf. He was wet and slippery from her spit.

Carl had spread his fingers across half her ass, and was contemplating what to do or touch next when something happened. Some part of him was still fighting this, and for a moment he recognized that part.

"No," he said, not loud enough for anyone but himself to hear. "I can't do this. Don't do this, dammit."

Cindy's head bobbed on his wet shaft.

He grunted. God, he wanted this. But he knew he'd regret it. Of course this would haunt him. Even if Angie never found out, he'd know what he did for the rest of his life.

Cindy's tongue flicked at the tip of his cock head. Her fingers holding his balls ventured further beneath him, teasing the sensitive space between his testicles and asshole.

"Oh God, oh God..." he groaned to himself. He gritted his teeth, breathing through them, angry with himself but too aroused not to be enjoying every second of it. He visualized pulling her off of him, but physically stopping the pleasure she was giving him didn't seen at all possible. She sucked and bobbed on him, her lips tight and her tongue exploring, tasting him eagerly and wanting more. How could he stop her?

"No," he whispered again. "No." This time louder. "No, no no!" Releasing her dress, letting it fall back and cover her, Carl grabbed Cindy by the head just firmly enough to pull her off of him without hurting her. The wet smacking sound as her lips popped off his cock head nearly sent him into orgasm. A string of saliva hung from her lip and connected to his tip. Her lips were wet and full and red and so impossibly alluring.

It might have been ten seconds or one-tenth of a second that he looked at her before bending down and pulling her to him, kissing her hard and full on those lips, slipping his tongue between them and urging her tongue between his. She tasted like cock, but more than that she tasted young and unfamiliar.

In the closet, Angie watched, amazed and terribly wet and horny. The kiss was so passionate, she almost felt as if she were a part of it, then wished she was. She caught herself trying to remember when, if ever, Carl had last kissed her like that.

Carl scooted forward in his chair until his exposed crotch was up against the waist of Cindy's colorful dress, his erection pressing into her belly. They continued to make out as he reached around her, around her ass and under her dress, venturing between her legs and slipping his middle finger past the g-string and into her wet pussy. To get as deep as possible, he spread out his other fingers, effectively cupping the bottom of her ass with his hand and feeling her hot, sweaty little asshole in his palm. With his one finger, he drew in and out of her pussy, fucking her. Her whole body shuddered and tightened, and she broke the kiss to show him the aching, needful ecstasy on her face.

The few moments Carl had seen Cindy before, as she left the house late at night or early in the morning after a romp with his nephew, he had never seen an emotional side of her. She seemed bland and uncaring, a clueless toy to be fucked. Part of him was turned on by that. But how Cindy really caught his attention was by the sounds she made, which was a completely different example of her, so full of feeling and passion and raw sexual energy. That was what turned her into his ultimate fantasy. And now, to see her facial expressions exhibiting such lust was a dream come true, because at last he knew she wasn't just a doll making human sounds, but a true animal of pleasure, both causing it and craving it.

Cindy whimpered; a soft, feminine, innocent sound that caught in her throat as she looked at him with those big, brown eyes.

Carl lost it.

Her noise had triggered the bomb, and there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't want to cum, not only because it wasn't right for this woman to be here when he did such a thing, but because he didn't want it to be over. But he was cumming. The liquid fire boiled the base of his spine before surging past his loins and up his hot cock, still pressed into Cindy's dress and her belly. The first shot was big, and Cindy noticed, backed away in surprise.

Carl pulled his hands off of her, but did nothing to help his orgasm. He just grabbed the armrests of the chair with his fists, closed his eyes, and ground his teeth together as he tried to stop the flow of cum. He knew, even as it was happening, that this had gone on too far, despite how badly he needed to continue. But in a moment of clarity, Carl was choosing his wife. He'd never fully understand how, but he was.

His cum splashed against the front of Cindy's dress, but the second and third spurts, unbeknownst to Carl, landed in the hands that she had cupped to catch it. She resigned herself to the reality that Carl wasn't going to go all in, and disappointed as she was, she didn't want to make things harder for him by jacking him off and perhaps breaking his will. She had tried that, and though there were small successes, ultimately and obviously, it was a failure. Her heart sank, but it didn't stop beating rapidly, as it was still thrilling to see him shoot his load from that magnificent penis, and very erotic to feel the heat and weight of his cum in her hands.

12
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