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by Lauren McAllister
Boy, was I boiling mad at Jimmy. Cartoon villain angry. He’d been a gigantic asshole about something…I don’t quite remember what, but I was plenty upset about it. I spent most of the afternoon washing his favorite clothes at the wrong temperatures and drinking wine fermented from exceedingly suspect grapes. By the time Greg rang the doorbell I was veritably swimming inside my own skull though, my substantial inebriation in no way dampened my borderline-psychotic ire. I folded one of Jimmy’s favorite sports t-shirts, which was now the size of a smart phone, and wobbled down to answer the door.
Greg was an okay guy. Nothing particularly special as a male of the species but he wasn’t a boorish unbearable prick like my beloved.
“Hi,” he smiled warmly. “Jimmy said it would be all right if I came over early – so I didn’t have to go home and come back. I hope I’m not putting you out.”
“Oh no!” I lied as I bibulously teetered on my heels. “Enter. Jimmy said that he’ll be another 45 minutes.”
“No problem. I’ll just sit in the den and stay out of your way.”
That’s when the big flashing “Revenge!” light turned on in my head. I looked down meaningfully at his junk hunk. “Well, that sounds boring. How about I let you fuck me, instead? That’s got to be a more interesting way for us to kill a half hour or so.”
Greg didn’t say anything for a few seconds. I could tell he really wanted to by the way his eyes were drooling but that whole stupid male/friendship/loyalty thing was making him hesitate. “That would be absolutely…and don’t think I…but, Jimmy is a great pal and….”
“What, I’m not a great pal? Did Jimmy every offer to let you fuck him?”
It was time to sweeten the honey pot. “I tell you what, why don’t I take off all my clothes while you continue to consider my very generous.” With that, I yanked my shirt up over my head and popped the clips on my bra. Greg took a good long look at my lady lumps and then he nervously scanned the room like he half expected and enraged Jimmy to come charging through the door wielding a machete.
“My vagina’s all freshly shaved,” I added adorably. “And, I’ll let you bareback me.”
You could practically hear the wheels spinning in his head and I could certainly see the bulge fatten in his pants.
“Maybe I should wait in the car,” he bravely stammered.
By now, I had my jeans off and was massaging my bald munch mound suggestively. He didn’t bolt for the exit so I kissed him lightly on the lips and rubbed the back of my finger up the length of his generous arousal.
“Come on. We have a whole….” I looked at my watch, “Forty-three minutes. When was the last time Amy sucked your cock.” I squeezed his sack soldiers to drive home my point. ”I mean, really sucked it.”
It was a rhetorical question. I could see his resolve melting away like the glaciers in Greenland. Resistance from here on in would be minimal and perfunctory. I grabbed him by the hand and dragged him into the guest bedroom to have my evil way. He was so cute about the whole thing. His hand was all damp from nerve-sweat. I think this may have also been his first time partaking in extra-marital activities. Greg was now in a room with a bed and a naked woman and he just stood there like an astronaut chicken, not knowing what to do. Luckily, I had some suggestions. With our 39 minute deadline in mind, there wasn’t a lot of time for smooching and a languorous build up to leisurely coitus. Zip. Zip. Zip. His pants were down and so was I.
“This is what you deserve, you little shit” I inwardly fumed as I took Greg’s leg-spreader into my mouth and guided it slowly to the back of my throat. He was as hard as a Koch Brothers’ heart in seconds. All I could think about was how much this would destroy Jimmy if he knew, as I slid Greg’s nookie nozzle back and forth along the tongue. I don’t think my suckee was thinking about much at all, except maybe how good the end of his goo gun felt.
31 minutes left: Time we were no longer standing.
I pulled his jolly juicer out of my mouth and gave his balls a few quick playful licks. Then it was time to get the show on the road. Or Greg on me. I know every movie you see nowadays has the woman on top, riding the man’s cunt cannon until she collapses in orgasmic euphoria, but I like whoever is fucking me to be up there, squishing me down into the mattress as he hammers away on my pud monster. So, I jumped onto the bed and opened up my legs. “All aboard who’s coming aboard,” I teased.
Greg had one last miniscule pang of guilt before he joined me on the Posturepedic. He was a little lost as what to do next but finally decided to taste the tart. And he was pretty good at it. As he probed me unmercifully with his remarkable tongue, I gazed over at a picture of my wedding on the nightstand. That really started getting me wet. I basked for a few moan-filled minutes as he did numerous lingual laps of my lick slit. Yum. Now, I was more than ready to receive guests.
23 Minutes Remaining:
With a little tug on the back of his head, I signaled to him that it was time to move on to the main course. And up my obliging swain came. Greg kissed me tenderly (he was really a very sweet guy) and then we both looked down between my legs as he grabbed a hold of his spunk sprinkler and guided it slowly into my glistening quim. That initial penetration is maybe the greatest topping on the entire sex-act pizza. The way our girlie openings say, “No. No. No.” to Mr. Happy and then “Well, maybe just a little bit of the tip,” and finally “Why, come on in and make yourself at home!” That shit is horizontal heaven on Earth. As that big bulby thing on the end of his gentleman’s battering ram broke through my boink-barricade and hurtled headlong up my hoo-ha?….Well, that was the moment Jimmy completely slipped our minds and we just concentrated on humping the life out of each other. It’s a good job I live in a house because, what with the fuck screams, the filthy outbursts of unconscionable obscenities (mine – blush) and the bed frame being smashed into the wall….I think someone might have complained to the super…or the police. Greg was really into it (and really into me!). You forget what sex with a new person is like after you’ve been emptying the same pair of nuts for a decade. The more he got into it, the more I got into it. Pretty soon, I could feel a familiar sensation building up around my love nub. Only that familiar sensation kept building and building.
At some point I was almost worried that it was never going to stop. My jaw clamped shut. My face turned beet red. My eyes bugged out. My neck was covered in those vertical strain lines. It was actually getting hard to breathe and then POW! Jesus Christ, it was like God himself had kicked me in the cunt. I almost deafened poor Greg as this telephone pole-sized orgasmic train stormed up my knob-squeezer, destroying everything in its path and practically setting my hair on fire. I climaxed so hard, my nipples were twitching. I swear my eyeballs came. All voluntary bodily functions ceased as I bucked and spasmed Linda Blair in “The Exorcist.” Gosh I must have looked attractive at that moment.
Then Greg let out this Ooofy sort of sound followed by a long gurgily noise as he filled up my jizz hotel to the very brim with his lap lotion. A couple of seconds later, he just lay motionless on top of me like a hundred and eighty-five pounds of pudding in a plastic bag. Things were starting to return to normal. As my head began to clear, I could feel him shrinking inside my cock coffin. Bitterly, I glanced back over at my wedding photograph. “There you are, you son of a bitch. Cuckolded!”
And then I looked at the clock. AAAAAAH! “Get dressed!” I scream, trying to push his fleshy dead weight off me. We only had five minutes to get dressed and look completely innocent.
He scrambled to put his clothes back on while I grabbed mine and headed up to the bathroom to make it look like I hadn’t just had the shit fucked out of me. When the car pulled into the driveway, Greg was sitting in the den calmly reading a magazine and I was putting the finishing touches on my face and hair. Phew!
The rest of the night was an absolute blast. The boys watched their stupid baseball game and I just sat back and enjoyed my vaginal aftershocks.
About a half hour into the game, I could feel Greg’s ooze seeping out of my cutlet and into my underwear. It was really cool sitting there thinking, “Hey, I’ve fucked both of these guys.” And every time I looked over at poor Greggy, he blushed apologetically and then took a big embarrassed gulp of his drink.
It was an unbelievable turn-on. I went down on Jimmy the second Greg closed the front door behind him. Two cocks in one night! I sucked him off and swigged the lot because I didn’t want anything tumbling out of my penis parking lot before Jimmy had finished put something into it.
I’ve fucked Greggy a ton of times since that night. He’s such a sweetie. On our second “date”, he brought me flowers and this really cool timer. I’ve also done the dirty deed with most of my husband’s other married friends. It’s absolutely great. They “do” me like gangbusters and they’re totally at my beckoned call. Whatever I want, whenever I want it, they come running.
The feeling of kissing hubby with his pal’s just-swallowed semen on my breath makes me maniacally horny…and then Jimmy gets his fair share. More than his fair share, if you ask me.
Oh yeah. That thing that I was mad at him about? It turns out, it may have been my fault.
Copyright 2014 Lauren McAllister