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"Hi lover," Cara purred, taking a seat at our table.I felt a pang of guilt and a shit-ton of panic at the unexpected appearance of the woman I had buried my cock in just a few days ago. I bravely glanced at my wife, who sat quietly staring at me. Awkward silence continued. Think, man, think!Finally, I said, "Hun, this is Cara ... my-" Secret affair," she finished. "Well, not so secret now, I guess," Cara chimed in with a quick laugh. "I wasn't the only kept secret. It seems you accidentally misplaced your wedding ring while you were fucking me." Look ... I can-" My wife put her hands up. "No need to explain. I found out about her. She found out about me."I watched and waited for the explosion. To my shock, it never came. She reached across the table and grabbed my hand. "Sure, at first I was shocked, then hurt. But, I thought about it and realized you just needed more than I alone could give. I contacted Cara and we had a heart-to-heart talk about the matter."I glanced at Cara, trying. "Nannette walked up and took a fist full of my shirt and yanked me down so that our lips met. The contact was electric and I put my arms around her, took two handfuls of her ass and yanked her against me as my tongue found hers. Oh she could kiss just like I thought she could, not too wet, not to reserved, just perfect. We both moaned loudly rubbing against each other until we came up for air."Yeah the car can wait," I picked her up and carried her up to her bedroom. Nannette giggled making her seem so much younger than her actual 37 years. the giggle turned into a squeak as I tossed her onto the bed and closed the door behind me."I just knew you'd be an a****l. You have no idea what it’s been like all these years watching you become such a handsome young man," She told me as she palmed her breasts, the nipple poking through the fabric. I pulled my tank top off and popped the button on my jeans."Oh trust me I know. I've been hard for you since puberty. You have always been such a.
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Trying to set herself, to adjust her kneeling position on the wooden slates to spread her thighs wider, attempting to relieve the pulsing pain of those raised welts, she can only imagine of what’s to come, what’s in store for her when he returns. Then comes the wait, the agonizing immeasurable span before he again presents himself. This time the waiting’s mixed with the already inflicted pain, even as it slowly recedes. On one hand it’s a momentary reprieve, yet on the other, it’s the anxiety of his return to inflict more punishment. Attempting to collect her breath, to breathe through clogged mucus, the moist tape still firmly sticking to her lips, cheeks, she inhales deeply, exhales likewise over and over trying to clear the passages of her flexing nostrils, her breasts rising, lowering in front of her downturned eyes as the lashed nipples burn as they painfully jiggle. Fingers flexing, spreading behind her, toes bent back by the wooden rails, her shoulders, back again.

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