25 comments/ 434574 views/ 56 favorites Martha Finally Cheats By: LaffWithMe The following material is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. This work may not be distributed for profit, in any form, without the written permission of the author or his agent "Ohhh...myyy...goddd! You won't believe what just happened." my best friend exclaimed as soon as I opened my door in response to her frantic knocking. "Yikes! Juicy gossip? It must be good, you haven't been this excited since you found out that the Bartlet's boy is gay." "God Martha, I just can't believe that I just saw what I did." We had moved to the living room. I sat on the edge of the sofa. "For god's sake you look like you're going to burst, just spill it out." I said laughing at her excitement. "OK, I went to the Pratt's tonight to get their dues. God they've got all this garish Mexican style furniture. Anyway, Sybil answered the door and I went in. They have this glass top dining room table. So we sat there and I spread out the association papers to show her and told her they could pay all at once or four times a year." This was dragging on. I interrupted, "So you saw that they have ugly furniture. Big deal." Now I have to explain. We live in a tract that has a homeowners association. The Pratt's had recently moved in across the street. Sue and I kind of thought they didn't fit. Most of the families here are mid-thirties couples with kids. The Pratts were an older looking guy and a very young looking wife and no kids. "Martha, shush. It's not the furniture I saw. Sybil called Martin to bring the checkbook and pay the dues and read and sign the papers. Well in he walks in this white bathrobe, hair wet, I guess just out of the shower. He sat down across from me and when he picked up the papers I was looking right through the glass table top at his legs. Then he scooted forward to write a check and the robe moved up. He was sitting on the edge of the chair and his you-know-what was hanging down. I mean HANGING DOWN. When he moved it kind of swung back and forth. God it was like this big flesh colored banana." "Oh my god Sue, you looked at it?" "Just for a second. I mean I was so embarrassed." "Yeah, right. Just long enough to tell me it swung back and forth and big as a banana". By now we were both giggling like schoolgirls. "Did he see you looking? Oh my god, what if Sybil saw you looking at her husband? Anyway, it probably wasn't as big as you think, I mean just seeing some man like that you'd get so embarrassed that you wouldn't really know what you were seeing." "Girl friend, it was big!" Well that was, I suppose, the start of my downfall. By now you're probably getting the impression that Sue and I are not wild sex-bombs. You may even be thinking, what is this, some fifteen year-old telling her story. Well I was 38 at the time but probably had less experience than my sixteen year-old daughter and her friends. A little background on me. I'm what's called a petite in women's clothing. At 5-1 and 98 pounds I can easily get lost in a crowd. I must admit to being a little bit vain though. Despite my small stature, I think I have a really cute figure. My bra is only a 28A but on me my breasts look fairly large and I have been told that my legs and butt are very shapely. Sue and I go to a women's gym regularly and we jog every day that we can. My husband and I went steady all through high school, married shortly after we graduated. You guessed it. I have, or should say had, never even kissed another guy. I mean serious kissing. I didn't think of myself as prudish but I never said any dirty words. Not even when Tom and I had sex, which wasn't all that often. The church would have been proud of us; sex was basically this is how you make babies. About fifteen years into the marriage, I began feeling bored and restless. This is not to say I didn't love my two girls and Tom. Everything was just so normal. I began reading romance novels, and then would feel guilty about thinking impure thoughts. In the weeks that followed Sues encounter, she and I would sometimes giggle over the sight of Martin Pratt's penis (I still didn't say things like cock even with Sue). Tom and I also got to know the Pratt's, just neighborly chitchat about the lawn, the weather, etc. In December the association has a pre-holiday dinner dance. The seating sort of mimics the arrangement of the neighborhood. So the Pratts were at the same table as we were. Sue was at a different table. This was the first time we had been with them socially. Now I had always thought Martin Pratt looked very ordinary. Probably in his fifties with a full head of hair, gray at the temple. Sort of gray-blue eyes and Scandinavian looking face. He is very tall, I'm sure over six feet. This was the first time I saw him in a suit, and I had to admit he looked somehow distinguished. Sybil on the other hand, who always seemed to be falling out of her clothes looked strangely prim in an ankle length, high collar dress. Dinner was pleasant conversation and wonderful food. After dinner the music began and Martin and Sybil were immediately on the floor. After a bit I coaxed Tom out to dance but he only tolerated two dances. Martin and Sybil joined us again while the band took a break. When the band resumed Martin asked me to dance. I tried to demur explaining that Tom and I didn't dance very much. He insisted. It was a fast dance and he soon had me following his every lead. The song ended, I headed for my chair only to hear him pleading for another. "Oh, I couldn't. You and Sybil are far too good for me, dance with your wife." "Martha, don't you dare stop. He'll dance my feet off, plus I think Marty needs a change of partners once in a while." Sybil called from the table. Well, that went right over my head but I was back on the floor enjoying Martin whirling me around. That song ended, and he held my hand lightly as the next number began. "It's a slow one Martha, how are you at the waltz?" he said as he very gently pulled me into dance position. He didn't pull me in close, he held me lightly and he seemed to glide around the floor. He was a very good dancer. Without realizing it, I was drawn closer to him, my body lightly rubbing against his. My head came only to his chest, my breasts rubbed against his mid section. Then I felt it. It was hard, it was pressing against my stomach. Yikes! It was his penis, his erect penis. I was sure of it. I pulled back, not recoiling but just a reflex. You don't feel the erection of strange men. He danced on as if nothing had happened. He didn't pull me closer, didn't make me feel uncomfortable. I began to doubt my thoughts; it was just my overactive imagination and all that giggling talk of his penis. I relaxed into him again. As before, my breasts made contact with him, I felt them rubbing against him. Then my tummy rubbed against him. This time I didn't immediately move back. I just wanted to be sure that what I was feeling was his penis. I moved my body, rubbed my stomach across him, it was very hard. It was his penis, his erect penis. "Wow! What the hell am I doing? ", I thought. The dance ended. He continued to hold my hand but this time I lead him back to our table. That was it. No more dancing with him I thought. Nothing seemed to change after that dinner dance. We had the same neighborly chats with the Pratts. I didn't tell Sue what had happened. Well, one thing had changed. I found myself thinking about that dance, about Sue seeing his penis, about feeling my breasts rubbing against him. New Years approached. Some of the homeowners began talking of having a New Years Eve party. Only about half the group decided to do it so we ended up with a record party in the community recreation hall. Tom liked the idea because he hated going out. It was a potluck after which we played old records and danced. I told myself not to repeat the events of the previous party but when Sybil insisted that I give her a break from dancing with her husband I couldn't say no. As before, music began with fast tunes and then someone slipped in a slow number. It was almost like a little devil was sitting on my shoulder saying, "Do it Martha". I didn't resist in the least as Martin put his hand on my waist and began gliding us around the floor. Someone turned the lights down. This time we were informally dressed. Instead of a thick suit, Martin wore light slacks and polo shirt. I had on a blouse and long skirt. This time when my breasts began to rub against him I could feel his body heat. My nipples got hard and I wondered if he could feel them. My stomach bumped occasionally against him, against that hard erect penis that I had felt before. One song led to another, another slow number. Each time my stomach rubbed against his penis, I could feel his hand on my waist, very lightly pulling me into him. Never overt, never more than just a gentle squeeze. All the time he chatted as if it wasn't happening, as if I wasn't rubbing my breasts against his mid-riff, as if his hard penis wasn't pressing into my stomach. Finally, near the end of the song, I pulled back rather abruptly and obviously. "Oops, forgive me Martha. You follow me so well that I forget that we haven't been dancing together for years. I didn't mean to get to close." He held me back at arms length as he looked down into my eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to jump back like that. I mean I really enjoy dancing with you. It's just that I, uh...well; I don't want you to get the wrong idea... I mean..." "It's my fault Martha. I'm afraid when a man is close to a beautiful woman there are some things that just happen. I'm sure you've bumped into that problem before." he chuckled. "That's ok. I know men can't help it. Not that it happens very much. I mean I don't dance very often." I felt myself stammering. "We can go sit down if you want to stop. But I must tell you it will end my dancing tonight. Sybil has a sore ankle and told me that she doesn't want to dance." "Welllll, I don't want to be a party pooper. I just don't want you to get the wrong idea or anything." "I have only the very best impression of you Martha. After all, we're both adults and understand that certain events are simply biological reactions. I can't stop them and must confess to a certain vicarious pleasure feeling a beautiful woman gracefully moving in unison with me on the dance floor. But I promise to keep some space between us." His words flowed out accompanied by light laughter. The music was playing again and we just automatically began another slow dance. "Do you really think I'm a good dancer? Or are you just being the gentleman?" "I do think you are a good dancer Martha. It's obvious that you haven't danced very much but you have a sense of rhythm." Our bodies bumped together. He made an obvious move to separate. "Don't worry Martin. You don't have to jump back every time we bump." I moved against him. I wanted to feel my body pressing against him, against his erect penis. Soon we were dancing tightly together. When I rubbed my stomach against his hardness, his hand on my waist would gently pull me in. I could feel my nipples get hard, was sure that he could feel them pressing into him. I could feel his erection move as my tummy rubbed against him. I felt the warmth between my legs as body became excited. I knew that my panties had become wet. I was in vicarious pleasure heaven. I had this feeling that I was being extremely wicked and I was enjoying it. Then the music ended. We re-joined Sybil and Tom at the table. It was almost midnight. At midnight every one cheered and yelled. I kissed Tom long and hard, partly because I was feeling guilty about dancing with Martin, about rubbing against his erection, and pressing my breasts against him. Martin and Sybil were next to us, locked in an embrace. I could see Martin's hand on her bottom, clearly pulling her tightly into him and I knew that she was grinding into his very hard erection. They broke and Sybil grabbed my Tom and hugged him, she had turned him so that his back was to me. Martin whispered "May I' to me as he opened his arms. I hugged him and allowed him to kiss me, then as I felt his hand on my bottom. I opened my mouth and French-kissed, feeling him pull me into him I ground hard against that hard erection. Then it was over. That night I had wild dreams of sex. I hadn't had dreams like that since I was a teen. The next morning I had horrible nightmares of what I had done. Thank heaven for Sue. I had to talk and she was happy to listen. We decided that nothing really bad had transpired. Once again, I was thinking - that's it, never again. Yet I still found myself thinking about dancing, about the kiss. It seemed that I saw Sybil and Martin more frequently after New Years. I now knew that Martin's job took him to Mexico frequently, which explained their furniture. As a sideline he bought Mexican jewelry, which he sold in a few local shops. This I discovered when I mentioned to Sybil that my mother had sent me money to buy a necklace. "Martha, come and see what Marty has. He brings the stuff back from Mexico. If he has something you like, you'll pay a quarter of what Davidson's sells it for. This isn't junk stuff, top of the line gold and silver. And not Mexican looking, these are things that they send to Paris." "I couldn't." "Sure you can. I insist. If you don't see something you like, don't feel like you have to buy anything. He has no trouble selling the stuff to Davidsons. He'll be home at noon, come over then." I knocked on their door about 12:15. "Come in, come in. Perfect timing. Marty got home a little while ago and I told him that you might want some jewelry. MARTY". Sybil yelled as she ushered me to the dining room table. "Just a sec, I just got outa the shower hon." I heard Martin's voce from above. "Honey, just bring down the necklaces so she can look at them while you finish." 'OK, ok." In a moment Martin appeared carrying two briefcases. His hair was wet and tousled and he wore a white robe that stopped just at the knee. "Hi Martha. I hope I have something you like. I brought some gold and some silver." he was saying as he stood across the table from me opening the cases. He then turned the case toward me and started to walk away. "Oh! Wait a second hon. Show Martha how to read the certificates that explain the metal content." He stepped back, sat down opposite me. He pulled out a necklace to which was affixed a small document. I couldn't concentrate on the necklace, all I could think of was Sue's tale of looking through the glass table. Déjà vu! Martin was talking, I wasn't hearing. The brief case was blocking my view. Without thinking, I moved it to the side. Now he was holding the necklace and I stared down in it's direction but really was looking at his penis. It was just exactly as Sue had described. His legs were spread apart; he was on the edge of the chair. His penis hung down swinging back and forth slightly as he moved. It looked so large to me. I noticed my face begin to feel warm and realized that I must be blushing. Sybil's voice broke my stare. "Listen hon, I have to go shopping. If you've got what Martha wants you better give it to her. Martha dear, I'm sorry, I forgot that I have to go out but you're in good hands with Marty. Bye dear, I'll be back around six-thirty." And out the door she went. "Bye hon." " Tell me if you see anything you like." Marty was saying as he spread some necklaces on the table. Spread them so that my line of sight to the necklaces was also to the long flesh colored banana that swayed below. Sue had said it looked like a big banana. It even had a tip like a banana, sort of fleshy nipple. "I...I...I'm not sure...I mean this is more than I expected." "Don't worry Martha. If you don't see what you like, I understand. I never push my stuff on someone. Just relax and take your time. Sometimes it's just nice to look." I saw him wink as I looked up at him. "Here, how about if we put this one on your neck and you can see how it looks next to your skin?" he was saying as he rose with a beautiful wide gold necklace in his hand. "OK, maybe that's a good idea." I watched him move, his robe now slightly open. As he stood and moved, his penis swung in and out of view. I sat almost frozen, looking at myself in the mirrored wall opposite me. Looking at Martin now standing by my shoulder, fixing the necklace around my neck. I saw in the mirror his robe separating, his penis now brushing against my arm; bare because of the sleeveless blouse I wore. "How do you like it Martha? Go ahead, touch it. Have you ever seen one like it?" "No. Never. It's so big. I've never seen one so big." I turned my head to the side as I spoke, staring at his penis rubbing against my shoulder, observing his scrotum for the first time. It to was large. Large but much smoother than Tom's wrinkled sack. 'Thank you. I think your petite beauty makes it look larger than it is. Touch it if you want." "The...uh...necklace?" "Whatever you want, Martha. You do want to feel it don't you?" "Uh huh." I wrapped my fingers around it. I felt it begin to harden at my touch. I knew what a foreskin was but I had never seen one before. As it hardened I saw the skin pull back slightly. I pulled back gently and watched the skin retract revealing a high crown. "Is that hurting you?" "Quite the opposite Martha, your touch feels exquisite. Is it possible you've never seen an unclipped cock?" I looked at him. "Uncircumcised." "Oh god. Martin please don't laugh at me. The only penis I've seen is Tom's. And even when he's erect it's not anything like yours. I've never ever done anything like this before. Is it ok if I just feel your penis and look at it?" "Martha, dear Martha. You are an absolute treasure. I would never laugh at you. You are a flower waiting to bloom. Go ahead, squeeze my cock, feel how you make it hard, but please call it a cock not a penis" "Oh darn, you must think I'm an idiot or something. I feel like a fool. I'm sorry, I don't want to be a tease, really I don't. I mean I can't have sex or anything like that. It's just that I never have been in this situation." I was babbling now, had dropped his penis like a hot potato. "Martha, relax. Believe me, I don't think you're an idiot or anything like that. Go ahead, this is your opportunity to examine a cock. Take advantage of it." He placed my hand back on his cock, wrapping his fingers over mine. "Say cock, Martha. Say what you're thinking. Just jack it off a little bit" as his hand guided my hand in a stroking motion. I watched in fascination as his hand guided my hand slowly stroking back and forth on the thick shaft. I watched the skin pull back revealing the high crowned head then on the reverse stroke the skin covered the head and formed a wrinkled tip. His hand left mine. I continued hypnotically stroking his cock. I squeezed it. I could feel his cock getting harder. I squeezed it harder and in my mind I was saying 'cock' over and over. Then I said it. "Your cock is so hard. It feels so warm. I want to squeeze your cock." And suddenly I wanted to say all the words that I had avoided. Saying cock seemed to make it even more erotic. "Ummm, yes. Squeeze it Martha." His hand was now sliding down my blouse. The pressure of his arm against my face brought my cheek into contact with his cock. I looked into the mirror across from us. I had never seen myself having sex. Now I was becoming terribly turned-on as I watched myself rub his cock on my cheek, watched my blouse buttons pop open as his hand worked its way down to my breast. My blouse fell open. His hand slipped into my bra. His fingers pinched my nipple. Martha Finally Cheats Too Often She's not as smart as she thinks - my ending to LaffWithMe's Martha Finally Cheats URL: http://www.literotica.com/s/martha-finally-cheats LaffWithMe's story is pretty simple. A story of a thirty eight year old happily married wife (20 years) and mother of two. Wife hears about big cock, wife feels big cock, wife sees big cock, wife becomes a slut for big cock. Continues to fuck hubby, even though she says she can't even feel him, for months. The end. Another real Laffer. The End? I don't think so... A quick read this time. Ugly, dark, and vicious flash story. You've been forewarned. There are too damn many intriguing stories that are never completed, or left hanging with disgusting endings. If I find a story that's been abandoned for too long, I'll give you my idea of an ending. Fair warning though, I don't write about total wimps. May not be BTB, all nuclear and shit, but no voluntary cucks, or whiny simpering wimps. For Information on how I choose which stories to continue, please read my profile. ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ The end(?) of Martha Finally Cheats I tried to say, "I'm just not that kind of woman. This was a mistake. I think we should just forget that this happened." But no words came out of my mouth. I just reached down and fondled Martins big soft cock. Sybil sat on the bed, kissed me softly. "Sharing is fun Martha. And we're all a little bit slut down deep aren't we?" Slut - the word rattled in my mind. God, I am a slut, aren't I. And I don't care; I just know that I want to fuck that big cock again. So there it is, that's how it began. Poor Tom has no idea why I'm such good friends with Martin and Sybil. Tom continues to like to fuck every week or two but I can hardly feel him in me. I thought I had it pretty good. At 41 years old, I had it all. Two smart, beautiful daughters, the last one had just been shipped off to college. A good loving husband who was a great provider and gave me the love and affection I adored. And then there was Martin Pratt's huge cock, and Sybil's tantalizing tongue that gave me the mind-blowing sex I craved and needed. We had driven Tina up to college over the weekend, and gotten her setup in her dorm. Tom got his weekly helping of pussy on the drive back. I could even feel him a little, it had been almost a week since I'd been with Martin. I was looking forward to Monday, when my husband would go to work, and I'd get that big hard cock I'd grown accustomed too. When I woke up that morning, Tom had already left for work. He was considerate that way, often showering in the guest bathroom so he wouldn't disturb me. He knew I liked to sleep in. As I rolled out of bed, I was already feeling that familiar itch. I cleaned up carefully, lubing up thoroughly to make sure I could handle Martin where ever he wanted me. The lube was flavored, for Sybil's sake. I put on my favorite 'heading-across-the-street-to-cheat-on-my-husband' outfit, shorts with a stretch waistband, an oversized t-shirt, and sandals. I bet you thought that I'd wear something sexy, but I'm not stupid. I wasn't going to feed the gossip machine anymore than I already was. I'd already heard too many mean-hearted rumors about spending so much time with the Pratts. Besides, I could be out of that outfit in less than three seconds. They'd timed me. I let myself into their house, using the key they'd given me. As soon as I was in the door, I got a little pissed off, to be brutally honest. I heard the moans from the back of the house, and knew they'd started without me. Selfish meanies. Opening the door to the bedroom, it took me a few moments for my brain to actually take in what I was seeing. Martin and Sybil were tied down on their own bed and there was blood everywhere! The iron-rich sickly sweet smell hit me only seconds later. For a moment I was sure they were dead, but their moans quickly set that notion straight. Moving closer, I was stunned by the horror before me. I now recognized that the blood was localized. It took a few more seconds to confirm what had happened. I threw up all over the two of them. Martin's cock had been cut off. Right to the quick. Nothing left. Not even a nub. It looked like someone had cauterized the wound afterward, because it wasn't bleeding. Who ever had removed his cock hadn't left it around. Martin was moaning, and I almost lost what I didn't have in my stomach, when he tried to talk. Grunting sounds escaped, and as I got closer and looked past all the blood on his face, I recognized that his tongue was gone. "Unhgg - uggg - muh," he groaned, looking at me. He reached toward me with his bound hand, only able to move it a few inches, and a new atrocity emerged. His index and middle fingers, along with his thumb were missing. I reached for my cellphone, and hesitated only a moment before calling 911. I tried to think up a story for why I was there, when my gaze moved over to Sybil. The words of the 911 operator went in one ear and out the other as I took in her injuries. Like her husband, her tongue and fingers had been removed. Her nipples appeared to have been burned off. It also looked like someone had sewn her pussy shut. "What is your emergency?" the voice from the phone repeated. "My... my neighbors, someone has hurt them. They're tied up." "Are you alone in the house?" the operator asked. Suddenly fear rushed through my body. Was the torturer still there? Was I in danger? I ran from the building, my heart racing, until I was standing in the middle of the street. "Hello? What is your address? What is the nature of the injuries?" the voice was repeating over the phone. I gave them the address, and listed what I'd seen. Then I stood outside shivering in the 95 degree weather, while the neighbors slowly gathered around me, until the speeding vehicles and sirens forced me to move onto the sidewalk. The inquisitive mob followed, and I heard the heart-rending murmurs and innuendo that I left in my wake. ~ * ~ * ~ I told my story to the policemen, explaining that I was supposed to go shopping with Sybil, and that the front door was unlocked and we commonly entered each other's homes. When they asked me if I knew who might have done such a thing I drew a blank. "Nobody," I said. "They're nice people, popular. They've lived here for over three years, and never had a problem. This is a quiet neighborhood. We have no crime here. None." I hesitated for a moment, voicing a concern. "He works with Mexicans, importing stuff. You don't think..." I'd heard about those foreign gangs. Were they caught up in something illegal? Suddenly the injuries made sense. Their tongues cut out and fingers removed so they couldn't identify their assailants. Couldn't even write it down. It was an evil, vicious thing, a way of covering their tracks. Cold-hearted. It was hours before things settled down, and the police left. Even then, I was stuck with our nosy neighbors, talking about what I'd found, and what had happened. I received more than a few suspicious looks and glares, but I shook it off. Let them speculate. We were too careful for anyone to know the truth. It was late afternoon before I had freed myself of the last of the rumor-mongers. I was exhausted and shaken. I was also sick to my stomach over what I'd seen. I waffled between going to the hospital or not, but in the end, I figured that might look too suspicious. I thought about calling my husband, but I was too nervous and upset to speak to him. I decided I'd wait until he got home, took a couple of pills to calm myself, and laid down on the couch, hoping to nap but knowing the likelihood was slim to none. When Tom hadn't arrived by seven o'clock, and the dinner I'd prepared was getting cold, I tried to call him. The phone went right to voicemail. Eight rolled by, and I was getting pissed. I'd had one of the most frightening and disturbing days of my life, and my husband couldn't even have the decency to call to let me know he was going to be late. Sure, he was late a lot with his new responsibilities, and I was used to it, but he would normally at least give me a heads up if he was going to be more than an hour or so late. By nine o'clock, I was frantic. Horrible scenarios were running through my mind. I'd called his work, but instead of reaching his voicemail, it went straight to the main switchboard. I'd already left half-a-dozen messages on his phone for him to call me. Looking around the living room, working on my second bottle of wine, I noticed a blank spot on the wall, and felt a shiver down my spine. That was where the picture of Tom fishing with the girls should have been. I stood up and started noticing things. Things missing. Not much, just a few here and there. Moving into the kitchen, I noticed our Wusthof knife set was gone. Tom's precious cooking knives, which I wasn't allowed to use after cutting myself twice. I ran up the stairs, and my fears took form. Half his clothing was missing, most of his toiletries, as well as his watch collection and jewelry box. I groaned, growing more frantic by the moment, trying to remember where everything should be. Itemizing in my mind the things he'd taken. The document fire safe we kept in the closet. His high school trophies. My jewelry case. His bedside phone charger. I ran from room to room, dialing his cell repeatedly, shrieking into the phone, begging him to call me. In the garage most of his tools were gone. His fly fishing gear, and his two favorite spinning rods, his golf clubs, all vanished. The gun safe was empty, and the computers were gone from the study. I don't know how he'd managed to get it all out of there without my knowing. His truck bed must have been filled to the rim when he'd left. In the living room, I saw our videos and CDs had several missing. I finally noticed that an empty CD case was open on the coffee table, with the remote beside it. I turned on the TV, and almost died when I saw the paused video of Martin fucking me, while Sybil sat on my face. With a trembling hand I hit play, and saw clip after clip of my time in our neighbor's bed. It was at least two year's worth, obvious from the different hair styles Sybil and I wore. Most clips were no more than a minute or two, highlighting my noisy orgasms and complete sexual capitulation. They appeared to be endless. He knew. He'd known for a long time. And he'd never said a word. ~ * ~ * ~ I managed to stay in the house for almost ninety days before the sheriff evicted me. I hadn't paid the mortgage in three months. How could I? I was dead broke. Tom was gone, and the police had not managed to find him yet. He'd drained our home of its equity, cashed out his 401K, emptied our safety deposit box and bank accounts, then somehow disappeared. They'd found his truck three states away, nearly a month later, but that was all. Other than that, not a single trace. Selling things from our home, and getting a job that paid $10.25 an hour allowed me to keep the lights on and to eat for three months, but that was about it. I was ostracized by our friends and neighbors. I don't know how they came to know everything about my business, but I saw the looks, heard the rumors, watched them turn away, not returning my calls. I hadn't seen or heard from Martin or Sybil, since I'd found them in that bed. The scuttlebutt was that they'd survived, but at what cost? It was only two weeks after I'd found them that the For Sale sign went up on their house, and it sold for a song. I know, because I was trying to price my house, and get something, anything out of it, but without Tom's signature, it took way too long to jump through the legal hoops. Eventually, I ended up driving my beat up van 400 miles to my mother's house, all my remaining worldly goods packed inside. The eight year old van my husband had said we were going to replace as soon as our youngest was off to college. I remember shopping for cars with him, excited at putting the old workhorse behind us, and buying a sexy little convertible. It was yellow, with black seats. I had looked great behind the wheel. Now it was no more than a pipe dream. Mom wasn't happy to see me; with Dad gone for almost three years, things were tight for her as well. That, plus I'd had to confess why my husband had left me. I'd never heard her use some of the words she screamed at me. We hardly spoke to each other for two weeks, but at least she let me stay. If she hadn't I don't know where I would have gone. I never heard from Tom. Except for that last obvious message. I never got a chance to apologize, to explain. I never intended to hurt him. It just got out of hand. If he'd only given me a chance, confronted me when he'd first learned of my affair, maybe we could have fixed things. I would have done anything to make it up to him, if he'd only given me one more chance. I've tried to talk to the girls, but they've disowned me. He got to them first. Tom left them a message, including a similar video to the one he'd left me, showing what I'd done and for how long I'd done it. He gave them the worst parts, the parts where things were said. Cruel things, vicious things, hurtful things, about my husband and my family. Mostly by Martin and Sybil, but I never defended them. And yes, several horrible statements from my own cheating lips. They were lies, said in the heat of the moment, but there was no way I could take them back now, and I could only imagine how painful it had been for my family to hear them. He took care of his precious girls. He may have destroyed me, me, who gave him over 20 years of my life, bore his children, raised them, gave my soul to my ungrateful family, but he made sure that the girls were taken care of. He left them a trust, and he paid for their college. I hear that money even shows up in the mail for them, anonymously. I offered to try to help them, sacrificing the pittance I have, but they laughed at me. My daughter's laughed at me. I think I deserved another chance. It was one stupid mistake. I was a good wife, a good mother, at least most of the time. A couple of years of foolishness shouldn't negate a lifetime spent together, being a good, loving and faithful wife and mother. It was only sex, for heaven's sake. Instead, I work at the Piggly-Wiggly, and hide in my room. I'm always looking over my shoulder, knowing that one day, my turn will come. It's been four years now, and my daughters are out of college. I don't even have an address for them. If I did, I don't know if I'd write, the last few experiences weren't good. No, I pass my time, working, eating and sleeping, always wondering, fearful, sometimes even regretful. The last frame of that evil video, showing Martin and Sybil on that bed, their blood fresh, bright and shiny, with the caption 'You're Next' is burned into my brain. I know it wasn't an idle threat. Not my husband. The only thing I wonder is how long he'll make me wait before delivering the coup de grâce. I shudder to think what form my own ending will take. I wish I had the courage to end it myself. But I'm weak, I've always been weak, and he knows that. All I do is wait. Wait and wonder. That and think about the weakness that took me down this road. What if Sue had never told me about seeing Marty's huge cock? What if I'd never danced with him, feeling it pressing against me? What if I hadn't allowed him to kiss me like that, on New Year's? What if I'd been strong, and rejected Sybil's offer to come over and see the jewelry he imported? What if I hadn't looked, if I'd left when Sybil did, if I hadn't touched it, gripped it in my hand, rubbed it against my face, let him undress me, licked it, sucked it? What if I hadn't let my desires overcome my weak will, what if I hadn't pleaded with him to fuck me, to feel that huge thing inside me? What if I'd denied Sybil's statement that I was just a slut? What if I hadn't gone on to prove it, day after day for years? What if I'd been a faithful wife? What if? Epilogue It was a dreary, overcast day. There were five people in attendance. Her mother, two people from work, one of her daughters and the minister. The eulogy was short, describing her as a hard worker. Her mother took a moment to say she'd been a good daughter, a good wife and good mother for most of her life. She had made mistakes, but who among them hadn't? Her daughter Tina didn't say anything, but she did leave a flower on the coffin. It had taken nine years. Nine years of fearful anticipation before she was strong enough to end it on her own. It came as no surprise to those who knew her. Far away, in Manila, it would be weeks before Tom's baby girl contacted him and let him know his wife was gone. He read the note, crumbled it up and threw it away. It had been a few years since the last time he'd even thought of her. For a few minutes he wondered what his life would have been like if things had been different. If he hadn't married a faithless, cheating whore. Tom recalled the difficulty of waiting over two years for his children to graduate high-school and leave the home. Refusing to disrupt their happy life, because of his wife's heartless betrayal. Watching Martha, waiting to see if at any time she'd remember, change her ways, come back to him and the family. Planning, and preparing, for the eventuality that she never would. At any time she could have stopped, and things might have been different. Maybe. But she didn't. If anything her adultery became more blatant and more frequent. He felt the anger slowly return, as he recalled their friends carefully broaching the subject, trying to warn him of what everybody knew. The humiliation and embarrassment as he denied that anything was wrong, that her relationship with the neighbors was anything other than friendship. Tom waited, documented, and prepared. He called in a couple of the girls that lived with him on his estate. They were quite effective at helping him to forget again, reminding him of why he was happy and content. Afterward, he contemplated his eldest child's upcoming visit, bringing her newest child to meet his grandfather. Any thoughts of 'What if? were quickly dismissed. Why mess with happiness? ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Martha Finally Cheats I couldn't believe how good it felt. How terribly erotic. How very very wrong but very very exciting. His hand forced my bra down; I watched my nipple come into view. I glanced up and saw that Martin was looking into the mirror also. "You have fantastic nipples Martha. They're so hard, so big. They're like pink gems on cream hills. Do you like to have them pinched?" "Yes. That feels good. I like them pinched hard." I watched in the mirror, my blouse open to my tummy, one breast fully exposed while my bra continued to cover the other. Martin's hand cupping my tit, his finger and thumb rotating, pulling, squeezing my nipple. I watched my hand stroking his thick cock, rubbing it against my cheek. I watched as a small drop of precum formed in the piss hole then watched as I dragged the pre-cum across my cheek. . I turned my face to examine his cock, to watch the precum slowly form another drop. I rubbed my thumb over the end of his cock, enjoying the slickness of the precum as I spread t over the head of his cock. It made the cock-head shiny. I rubbed his cock on my cheek again. I felt Martin's free hand on my head, felt him gently turning my head. His cock slid across my cheek and rubbed my lips. Instinctively I opened my mouth, began licking the warm hard head. I continued stroking his cock as my mouth wrapped around the head. It seemed even larger now that I was sucking it. "Umm, yesss. Tongue it Martha. God, that feels so good. Play with it hon. Lick up and down the shaft. Umm, good." I ran my tongue up and down the shaft. His cock was now shiny with my saliva. When my mouth was by his balls, he raised his cock so that his balls rubbed against my chin. I had never licked a guys balls, but I knew that's what he wanted. It was also what I wanted. I wanted to play with that big sack. I began licking his balls while holding his cock against my face. I could feel the heat from his cock against my face. Martin pulled my blouse open the rest of the way, slipped it off my shoulders. As my blouse slid from my body, he unsnapped my bra, which followed my blouse to the floor. I stole a quick glance to the mirror. Watched and felt his large hands cup my small breasts. I returned my gaze to his cock, as his fingers began to gently rotate my nipples. I looked at the long blue vein that ran along the shaft. I slid my tongue along the vein, and then squeezed the head of his cock to open the hole so that I could probe it with my tongue. "God you have hard nipples Martha. Do you like them sucked? Tell me what you want, I want to make you feel as good as you are making me feel." "Pinching is good, yes hard. And suck them, bite them." I murmured with his cock touching my lips. "Good. I love sucking titties." He laughed as he pulled me to my feet. As I released my grip on his cock he knelt before me. His mouth swallowed one breast; he began sucking while his tongue rubbed across my nipple. His hands were on my back, holding me to him, caressing me as he sucked first one breast then the other. As he sucked a breast deep into his mouth, I could feel his tongue licking, then as his mouth drew back his teeth gently bit down on my nipple. He held my nipple between his teeth and ran his tongue over the tip. God it felt so good. As he worked on my tits, he slid his hands down to my hips. I unsnapped my shorts. He slid my shorts and panties down. Without even thinking about it, I stepped out them. He was still sucking, biting my nipples as his hands now caressed my ass and legs. Instinctively I spread my legs, inviting his hands to my pussy. My last inhibitions evaporated as Martin began rubbing my pussy. I looked down, watched his lips work around my breast. I watched my tit pull outward as he sucked and bit and pulled my nipple with his teeth and mouth. I watched his hand rub my pussy. I watched his fingers disappear into my thick swatch of hair. Felt his finger slid into my pussy. As he slid his finger in and out of me, I worked my pussy against him. "Feel good?" he smiled. "Yes, yes." "Umm, and tastes good too." He said as he withdrew his finger and licked it, and then offered his finger to me to lick. I had never tasted myself. If it ever had occurred to me, I'm sure I would have thought it a gross act. But now I licked his finger and marveled that I liked it. "I think that pussy needs a good licking. You do like your pussy eaten, don't you? Never met a woman who didn't" I did like it. It just didn't happen that often. But now I wanted it more than ever. He lifted me to the table, sat me on the edge. I spread my legs inviting his mouth to my lips. Placing my fingers on my pussy I spread it open, pulled the hair back. I felt extremely erotic as I envisioned his view of my pussy, the pink juicy flesh that was now exposed by my spread lips. I shuddered when I felt his tongue begin to lick my slit. His tongue pressed into my cunt and lapped upward causing wonderful shocks as it dragged across my clit. "Oh, god, yes, yes yes." He buried his face in my pussy, grinding his tongue into me. He began rubbing my clit as he licked my pussy. I pushed against him, writhed around on the table. I wrapped my legs around his neck, pulling him into me. I watched him burying his face in my pussy. I heard him slurping, sucking my juices. "Yaheee." I screamed and convulsed. I had a wonderful orgasm. This drove him to work harder on my pussy, now sucking at my clit as his finger rammed in my pussy. I felt so hot. My body was tingling. My pussy was being stretched. I knew that he was pressing another finger into my pussy. As my pussy slowly yielded to the added finger I knew what was next. I wanted it. I wanted to feel his big cock in me. I knew he was gently preparing me for it. "Martin. I want it. I want you. I'm afraid it's too big but I want it." "Don't worry Martha. I'm very gentle." He was picking me up, carrying me to the bedroom. I wrapped my arms around him. I kissed him all the way to the bedroom, sucking his tongue, pushing my tongue into his mouth. He placed me on the bed, retrieved a tube from the nightstand. "Spread your legs," he said as he squeezed lubricant from the tube then rubbed it into my pussy. It felt cool, and he slipped two fingers into my pussy. They slipped in easily. I held his hand and helped him work his fingers in my pussy. "Now your turn." He said as he lay on his back. "Grease up your toy." He smiled. I looked down at his cock. It still looked huge to me. It was semi-hard. It lay on his abdomen pointing straight toward his head, the head of the cock just touching his belly button. I squirted lube onto his cock, made a zigzag line the length of the shaft, like decorating a cake I thought. He laughed. I began to spread the lube with my index finger. His cock felt warm, my finger pressed into the flesh. As I ran my finger up and down the shaft, I felt his cock get harder. I liked that. I liked making his cock hard. I wrapped my thumb and index finger around his cock, squeezed more lube on and coated his whole cock. "Get on top." He instructed. I looked at him. "You get on top, that way you can control my cock. Just rub it against your pussy, play with it, work it in slowly." I swung my leg over him; straddling him I leaned down to kiss him. "That feels good. Rub your hard nipples on me. Slide you pussy along my cock." His arms circled me; he pulled me in, gently but firmly forcing my nipples into his chest. My nipples were hard and sensitive. I moved slowly back and forth, caressing him with my nipples and enjoyed the warmth of his body. I could feel his cock bumping against my ass. I moved backwards to let his cock slide between my legs. I could feel the shaft glide along my pussy lips. It didn't penetrate; I just slid up and down the hard shaft, enjoying this new sensation of a large hard cock pressing into my bare pussy lips, enjoying the feel of my nipples dragging along his body. Then he pressed me back into a sitting position. "Put it in Martha." I lifted the thick shaft and rubbed the head over my pussy, then pressed down trying to take it in. I watched the thick head spread my lips only to slip away from my hole. "Oh god, Martin, it's too big. I'll never get that in me." He placed a finger in my pussy and slowly began finger fucking me as I continued to hold his cock. As I watched, I saw him gently press a second finger into my wet pussy. I could feel the stretching and began to ride his fingers. Then he worked in a third finger, rotating his fingers as he stretched my pussy. Then with a smooth motion, he withdrew his fingers, wrapped his hand around my hand that gripped his cock and guided it to the opening. "Do it now Marsha. Just sit down on it. Your pussy is ready, just ease it in." I did. My fears that it would hurt vanished as I felt the head spread my pussy open. Rather than pain, I had this wonderful feeling of pressure on my pussy. A feeling of being spread and filled. He began pumping into me with short strokes, each stroke pressing deeper into my pussy. His cock just seemed to go deeper and deeper, touching me where I had never been touched. Then I was aware that his cock was hitting my cervix. Now that his cock was buried in me he rolled me over, pulling my legs up to his shoulders. I could never have imagined how erotic it would be to look down and watch a large cock slowly slide in and out of me. But there it was, and I was getting hotter with every stroke. "Oh god! Oh yes! Fuck me! Fuck harder Martin." He began to fuck faster, harder, with intermittent pauses when his cock was buried deep inside. And each time he stopped with his cock deep in me, I would grind myself into him until finally I had my second orgasm of the day Wow! And I wanted more. And I was happy to feel his cock still hard, still fucking me. "Good girl Martha. Let go." "Oh god yes." You like it don't you hon, like a big cock stuffing your tight little pussy." He was now fucking with long, hard fast strokes. "Oh I do, I do, I do. Fuck me. Fuck my cunt. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." "I'm gonna cum in you. Tell me you want my cum." Ohhhh god, I want you to cum. Ohhhh it's so big. It feels so good. Yesss, cum! Oh shit, I'm cumming again Martin. Fuck me hard. Pleeeze, harder." He groaned, stopped stroking his cock in and out, and just buried himself deeply in my hot wet pussy. He ground himself into me and I knew he was cumming. I pushed back, trying to get his cock as deeply into me as possible. Then I came again. Wonderful waves of pleasure rolled through my body. I felt his body relax, but he didn't pull out of me. I thought I could feel his cock soften in my pussy yet my pussy still felt nice and full, very warm and very wet. I showered him with kisses. We just lay there. I knew I was hooked. I could feel a bit of guilt creeping into my mind but I knew that I liked being fucked by a big cock. I knew I liked saying pussy and cock and fuck. Then the bubble seemed to burst. "Well what do you think Martha? Marty's got some pretty nice merchandise hasn't he?" It was Sybil, standing in the doorway. "Oh god...oh Sybil...I...I..." I still hadn't figured it out. All I could think of was that I had just fucked another woman's husband. "Martha, slow down hon." Sybil cut me off. "I'm not upset. I'm glad to see you've discovered you like big cock." She was grinning. "I wish I could have stayed for the whole thing but we thought you'd be more comfortable this way." "Some people don't approve of sex just for the fun of it but Sybil and I have found it works for us. She thought that you were a woman that was in need of some fun so we figured why not open the door and see if you wanted to come in. I hope you don't mind. I hope you'll return." Martin had rolled off of me and was now caressing my body as he and Sybil spoke. I tried to say, "I'm just not that kind of woman. This was a mistake. I think we should just forget that this happened." But no words came out of my mouth. I just reached down and fondled Martins big soft cock. Sybil sat on the bed, kissed me softly. "Sharing is fun Martha. And we're all a little bit slut down deep aren't we?" Slut - the word rattled in my mind. God, I am a slut, aren't I. And I don't care; I just know that I want to fuck that big cock again. So there it is, that's how it began. Poor Tom has no idea why I'm such good friends with Martin and Sybil. Tom continues to like to fuck every week or two but I can hardly feel him in me. The End [If you enjoyed this story and would like to say thanks - then please do. I'd also be interested in your gender and age (20's 30's etc.). If you care to tell me what you enjoy it will help me decide what topics to work on in the future.]