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Don't Ask, Don't Tell Ch. 01

By: myndstorm



I can tell there will be trouble when it first starts. Here is my second wife, huddled in the den with her older girlfriends on a rainy Friday night, sipping wine and chatting. And as with most chats, it turns to one thing: sex, or rather the lack of it thereof.

Now, this is my wife Cheryl's first marriage, and there are some things she doesn't know that I should've already hipped her to. There are things you talk about with your girlfriends and things you don't. 

But before I get too far, let me describe my winsome wife. Cheryl, 35, is 5'4", four inches shorter than me. She has smooth, caramel skin than makes me want to taste every inch of her often. Her C-cup melons, with their thick, peg-like chocolate nipples, get the lion's share of attention from my soft lips, especially since she loves to thrust them in my face when she's riding me. She's got a bit of a tummy, but her sweet, wide, 38" hips with accompanying juicy thighs more than makes up for it. The way her big ass quivers when I fuck her from behind has me gritting my teeth and trying to do trigonometry in my head, all in an attempt to hold off cumming until her frothy pussy squeezes my cock rhythmically in orgasm. But Cheryl's most potent weapons are her almond-shaped, hazel eyes that hypnotize me at any given moment, and her plush, pink lips. Hell, kissing my wife as we do for hours on end is almost better than sex. Almost.

Her friend, Marie, 38, is almost a pixie. With her red hair, green eyes, and 5-foot-even stature, she can't be more than 98 pounds soaking wet. Her chest is pretty much non-existent, but her nipples seem to be always hard and poking through anything she wears. Her cute, heart-shaped ass is the most prominent thing on her body—not that I notice these things, mind you. 

Andi, her girlfriend from down the street, is the tallest, standing 5'11". She has long, lean legs, showing some muscle definition, very slender hips, and a flat tummy. You'd almost think she was a boy, except for the fat, D-cup tits thrusting high and proud on her chest. At 40 years of age, you'd think they'd have a hint of sag to them, but no. It leads me to question if they're really hers or not, but damn, they fucking look good anyway. With her sandy-blond, shoulder-length hair, and her dazzling blue eyes, she's the quintessential MILF of the group. 

Cheryl's third friend, Trixie, 39, is the bona fide BBW. She's 5'5" and must weigh near the 200's. But strangely enough, she's a sexy package, sporting a pair of huge, mahogany DD's? F's? (I'd love to take a peek at that bra size.) Her waist is relatively small before flaring out to an outlandishly-wide ass. Trixie looks like an exaggerated hourglass, but she carries and dresses it well. And she knows how to flaunt it, using her big, brown eyes, cute button nose, and winning smile to flirt heavily. I don't know how her husband, Theo, puts up with it.

So anyway, it's a Friday night, right, raining cats and dogs outside in mid-April, and I'm planted in front of our big-screen plasma TV in the living room watching some action flick on our fiberoptic connection. And the women are laughing, drinking, and talking. Then their voices get low. I know they're chatting about something they don't want me to hear. Suddenly, Andi says in that brassy voice of hers, "I don't see what's the big deal about sex, anyway." 

There is a moment in which there is absolute silence. That, right then, is when I should've jumped up, grabbed Cheryl, pulled her into the kitchen out of earshot, and told her the Golden Rule. But hey, a guy hears an attractive woman (not that I notice these things, anyway) utter that magic word—SEX—and strange things happen. I got rooted to my plush Barcalounger. My dark dong surged to half-hardness in my relaxed-fit jeans. I swallowed a lump in my throat as my thumb gently pressed the down-volume button on my ever-present remote. 

I guess they were waiting to see if I responded in some way. Once satisfied that I was too wrapped up in my movie to have given them another thought, they continued. 

"Well, it's true," Andi says, this time a little quieter. "Sex is no big deal to me. Al comes to bed, slobbers all over my boobs for a few minutes, then sticks it in. It's just starting to feel good when he pops, rolls over and goes to sleep."

Al's my golfing buddy. Big, strapping guy, over six feet, was a defensive lineman in college. He's balding now and has a paunch, but still has a lot of that college muscle left over underneath. He always gives me the impression he'd rather watch ESPN SportsCenter than get it on hot and heavy under the sheets. Still, I hate hearing about it this way. My dick starts to soften a little.

Marie is the shy type, so I'm surprised when she pipes up. "Is he, you know, big down there?"

Andi chuckles. "He's okay, I guess," she replies. "I still like the feel of it, if only he'd go a little longer." She sighs.

"I wish Johnny had one his size, then," Marie says. "Johnny's is huge." 

Another pause. "HOW huge?" Trixie asks. I can almost hear the calculating in her head. 

"I measured him once when we first started...um...you know...he's, like, 9 ½ inches," Marie says. "And it hurts so much when he shoves it in. When he takes his time and makes sure I'm good and we—umm, ready, it can be really good. But most of the time he just drives it home, and I feel like he's ripping me apart. Maybe I could get used to it if we did it more often, but..."

I winced involuntarily, thinking about a wee frame like Marie's taking on a monster prick like Johnny's. Johnny's a dark-haired, rail-thin car mechanic with his own garage over on Maple Street. Sometimes I hang out with him while he's working on my ride. He brags about having a big one all the time, and I guess he's right. But lots of big-dicked men think that's all they need to please a woman, and use it like a battering ram instead. They forget about using their fingers, lips, tongue and teeth to get a woman primed before working their big muscles inside.

"Well, at least y'all men can get it up," says Trixie with a huff. "Theo talks a big game, but when it's showtime, he's limp as a noodle."

"There's a little blue pill that can fix that right up, you know," replies Andi.

"I know that, you know that, errybody and their fuckin' MOTHER knows that," Trixie answers, agitated. "But Theo don't want no doctor tellin' him he's got that erectile dysfunction crap. Won't even think of goin'." She takes a long sip of wine, draining the glass. "But I bet he can get it up fo' his fuckin' big ass secretary, though. Fuckin' office slut..."

I didn't know much about Theo. We're cordial acquaintances at best. He's an investment banker downtown, and we ride the same commuter train. His girth matches Trixie's, although he's taller by a few inches, and it's conceivable that his weight, plus his high-stress job, makes it tough for him to rise to the occasion.

It's quiet for a minute and I still have time to retrieve my naïve wife. I start to rise to my feet, when her voice sounds out.

"Well, I love sex," Cheryl begins, "and Steve does me just right. He's not too big, not too small, and he takes his time getting me nice and dripping wet before he mounts me. And when he's in there, OOooohhh muh GOD! He moves his hips like he's trying to churn butter inside me. And I guess he does, because I cum so hard that I see stars. He's always ready to go, too, like a little Energizer Bunny. But I make sure he gets enough."

I'm sure Marie is blushing from head to toe, now. Andi coughs, and Trixie says, "Dammnnnn!"

The spell keeping my feet stuck to the hardwood flooring finally breaks. I take the few steps necessary to reach the den. The wine bottles are empty, and the women are all glassy-eyed. Cheryl's words really got to them. Time to send them home.

"Cheryl, don't you have an appointment at eight tomorrow morning?" I say. "Maybe we should get to bed now."

Trixie and Andi laugh loudly. Marie grows more red-faced. "Yeah, you heard yo' man, Cher," says Trixie. "It's time fo' bed right NOW, baby!"

It's my turn to blush as they gather up their purses and keys and make it out the front door to their cars. We wave as they pull off. Then I feel a hand cupping my left asscheek through my jeans.

"You heard Trixie," whispers Cheryl, nibbling on my earlobe. "It's time for bed, baby." She turns and switches her jiggling hips up the stairs. Well, shit, I'm hot as a firecracker myself after hearing all that.

Let me tell you a little about myself, now. I'm no Denzel, or even a Samuel L. I'm a nice-looking guy, but rarely do I get a woman doing a double-take when I'm walking in public. My build was lean and muscular when I was in the Army some twenty years ago, but now I have a spare tire around my middle. My skin tone is smooth chocolate; my eyes are light brown, and my lips are very soft. Since I started going bald eight years ago, I've kept my head shaved. I'm the kind of man who has to rely on his intelligence, wit, and charm to get a woman interested. And once she's in bed with me, I make sure she stays interested, because then I can set loose my prick on her. It's an unusual one: it's uncircumcised, the length is just shy of the traditional "AOL 8", but the shaft is very thick and it's capped with a fat, mushroom shaped head. All of my past partners say it's the head that forces them wide open, rubs against their G-spots, and allows my cock to nudge up against their cervixes, filling them to the brim. But I also use my fingers and tongue to good advantage. That's how I hooked Cheryl after our initial courtship online eight years ago.  

When I reach the bedroom, Cheryl's just shimmying out of her lace panties. She saunters over to me, naked, wrapping her arms tenderly around my neck. As her lips draw close, the scent of alcohol is strong. Her kiss begins soft, but builds to an incendiary level. Her body presses up against me, molding to my contours. I like this; I call it her "melty kiss." My thickening dick starts to crowd the crotch of my jeans.

"So," Cheryl says, her eyes hooded, "how much of that did you hear?"

I kiss her left cheek before trailing more down her slender neck to her sensitive collarbone. "Hear what?" I reply huskily. Damn, she feels so good in my arms.

She moans as my lips suckle that special spot, the one that I know raises goose bumps on her shoulders. "You know," she breathes, "what the girls and I were talking about."

My left hand moves from the small of her back and smooths over her right asscheek. I squeeze and pull her tighter against me as my right hand roams up her torso to cup her tit, her chocolate nipple already stiffening in my palm. 

"Yeah, I heard it all," I answer, my lips once again covering hers, gently sucking on her sweet bottom lip. "But honey, maybe you shouldn't have told them about our sex life."

She pulls back a little to lift my t-shirt up and off me. Then she leans forward to softly bite my left nipple as her hands begin to unbuckle my belt. "Why not?" she asks. "I thought you'd puff out your chest a little hearing about how good you treat me."

"I'll admit, that was nice," I say as she finishes unsnapping and unzipping my jeans and yanks them down with my underwear. My rock-hard boner bounces up and just about smacks her on the chin in its rush to point skyward. Now in a crouch at face-level to it, Cheryl rubs her face on the underside of my fat chocolate shaft, letting it roll from one cheek, over the ridge of her nose, to the other cheek, getting all of my musky scent on her. Damn, she spoils me with this shit.

"MMmmmMmmm," she moans, taking a moment to pull back the foreskin and deliver a sucking kiss at the spot where the shaft meets my bloated, dark-red head, watching me involuntarily twitch. "Baby, you know I want to just eat you up, get you all down my throat, but I'm SOOOO horny right now, so..." She stands up, takes me by my shoulders and pushes me toward the bed. My jeans are still gathered around my ankles, so I end up stumbling toward the bed, twisting so that I land on my back, my feet still in contact with the floor. Cheryl then swiftly straddles my torso while grasping my throbbing cock and aiming it at her warm, slick slit. Fuck, she's already so wet!

I manage to snap my hips up. My mushroom cap almost parts her outer lips, but she rises up quickly, denying me blissful penetration. "You beast," she says, grinning widely. She catches my wrists and pins them over my head. "This is MY show tonight." And with that, she begins an inexorably-slow corkscrewing of her hips. My cockhead disappears inside her; we both gasp as she continues her journey, taking three minutes to finally seat herself completely on my cock. She rocks back and forth some, making sure I'm sealed to her cervix nice and tight.

I have no complaints. Like she said before, I'm just the right size. Every inch of my dick is covered with hot, frothy pussy, with nothing left out. You can't beat that. But I'm not helpless in this position. I flex my kegels, making my cock jump several times inside her. She coos as she feels the pulses ripple through her clasping sugarwalls.

Then she lifts up until only the very tip of my head is within her. Her thick cream cools around my exposed shaft. Rotating her ass, she dips and rises, letting my tip play around her tight, muscular opening. She sinks on me again, grinding our pelvises together as I hit bottom. I grunt as I'm jammed up against her back wall once more.

"OOohhhhHHH, h-honey, oooOOoHHH, Steve," she moans as she begins to post on me, harder and faster. "I—love—your—FUCKING—DICK!" she says, punctuating each word with a plunge onto my throbbing prick.

"But, uuNNggHH, will you respect me in the m-morning?" I groan as I snap my hips up on her downstroke, making her shudder as we collide over and over. 

"Shut up, you," Cheryl gasps. "Here, play with these for awhile." She leans forward until her caramel tits are mashed all over my face, making it difficult to breath. I snare a nipple in my mouth and suck firmly, my tongue flicking the tip. Her pussy lubricates even more at this, her frothy cream bubbling out around my fuckstick to coat my heavy balls.

That's when I hear her pussy give out a little squelch, a little pop of her juices around my cock. It's an indication that my wife is getting close to cumming. I yank my wrists free from her grip, place my hands firmly around her waist, and begin bucking up in earnest, driving my dick deep into her quivering box. She sits bolt upright, her hands on my soft belly, shifting all her weight down on my pelvis, absorbing every thrust.

"F-fucking b-bastard," she hisses, her wide ass jiggling as she takes my pounding. "I-I'm supposed to b-be in control...oh fuck oh fuck ooHHH FUCK I'M GOING TO CUUMM—"

Cheryl screams as she hits her peak, her head thrown back as the orgasm wracks her body. Her creaming quim is squeezing and rippling all over my dark dick, trying to coax the white-hot lava out of my straining balls. Normally, I'd hold off, because my wife is good for at least two or three cums in a session. But it's late, she's half-drunk and I'm tired, so I dig my fingers into her soft asscheeks and let go, firing volley after volley of my seed deep inside her. My back arches as the pleasure of my pulsing prick runs up and down my spine, making my toes curl inside my Starburys.

Cheryl pants in my ear as we both come down from our mutual explosion. The room comes into focus again, and I caress her back as we cuddle and kiss, our commingled juices seeping out of her twitching slot as my dick softens and finally slips out, curling wetly onto my balls.

"UMMmmmmm," my wife murmurs as she peppers my face with light kisses. "Just what I needed, honey, all of that girl-talk had me so fucking wound up." She sighs and lays her head on my chest. "Now what were you saying before?"

"Well," I begin as I stroke her chestnut-colored braids, "you should never tell your girlfriends that your husband can really fuck, especially if their sex lives are all messed up. They start getting curious and shit; they want to find out for themselves if it's really true or not."

Cheryl plucks absently at my right nipple. "C'mon, Steve, these are my friends, my very best friends," she emphasizes. "They would never even THINK of coming on to you." A yawn. "And even if they did, you'd never do anything with them, right?"

"Of course not, honey!" I sputter, almost too quickly. "I'm just saying...just saying you should be careful of what you tell them. Okay?"

The only reply is light snoring. The combined effect of wine and sex has knocked Cheryl out on top of me. It takes me a few minutes to maneuver her limp form onto the bed and under the comforter. I stroke her cheek for a while, watching her sleep blissfully. I give her a peck on the tip of her nose, and then I join her in slumber.

By the time my eyes open the next morning, Cheryl is gone, off to her morning appointment, no doubt. She's always been an early riser, given she's ten years younger than me.

I gaze up at the ceiling, thinking about the night before, and I have to chuckle a little. Who am I kidding? Here I am, forty-five years old, and five years short of an AARP membership. My stomach is bigger than my chest. And whenever Cheryl's girlfriends see me, I'm dressed in baggy, bummy-yet-comfortable clothes. I'm no Wesley Snipes. Why in the world would they want me? I figure I'm pretty safe from any advances.

But then again, isn't that why this is my second marriage? You see, for a married man, it isn't hard to trip and fall dick-first into some strange pussy. Your wife's friends, or your sister's friends, make themselves available if a woman is not careful. My first wife took a picture of me naked, with my cock waving at full staff. She carried it around in her purse for awhile and, one day when she was at lunch with her friends, her purse spilled out. There I was on display in all my glory, with four pair of female eyes devouring every inch of that photo.

Well, sure enough, her friends starting acting funny around me, trying to get me to notice this or that on them. I told my first wife what was going on, but she thought I was being vain and turned a deaf ear to it all.

It didn't happen right away. A couple of years went by, and suddenly my wife and I weren't so cuddly anymore. Our sex life pretty much dropped off a cliff. She had headaches or cramps most of the time. In fact, it became a running joke in our close circle of friends of how little I was getting. Strangely enough, it wasn't that funny to me.

That's when her friends turned up the heat. They'd come by when my wife was out of town, or they'd have me come over to their place to fix their computer (I'm an IT professional, you see, so everyone thinks I can fix ANY computer problem—as if). Much skin would be exposed, many opportunities would be given--and many cold showers would be taken. I beat off so much I was getting calluses on my left hand.

But still, I resisted. Until the very furious—and very voluptuous--April Jennings had a knock-down, drag-out fight with her husband one night. She rushed over to our house and consoled herself in the arms of Loralee, my first wife. Then Loralee let her spend the night. Then...well, I dipped into April's good stuff. Let's face it; at that point I hadn't had pussy in four months. Thoughts of resistance went right the fuck out the window when April came on to me. But that's another story. (Read "April Showers".)

Anyway, I've learned my lesson from those days. Cheryl and I have a vibrant sex life. Our libidos match, and our tastes, although adventurous, are limited to the two of us. I can't ever foresee a time in which we could be tempted by the advances of others.

But later that day, after we've both arrived home from work, Cheryl receives a phone call that threatens to change all of that. In fact, in less than a minute and a half, the phone drops to the floor with a loud clatter--and my usually cheery wife rushes into my arms, sobbing loudly.


Don't Ask, Don't Tell Ch. 01



"Hey, heeeyyy!" I say, wrapping her tight as her body heaves with her cries. "What's going on? What was that call all about?"

It's minutes before she's composed enough to answer. "M-my m-mother...s-she--she's--"

I gulped. "She's...?"

That's when she looks up at me with those hypnotic hazel eyes. I know then that whatever she needs, I will be there for her.

"She's had a stroke. She's in critical condition. I need to go, Steve. I need to go right now."

I took her by the shoulders. "Honey, breathe deeply, alright?" I say. "We need to get some more details before you rush off." So I sit her down, in my Barcalounger, no less, and I retrieve the phone from where she dropped it. Her older brother, Claude, is on the other end. We talk, and I get the full scoop.

Andrea, their mother, did indeed have a stroke just a few hours earlier. She was discovered by a "Meals on Wheels" volunteer, and she was rushed to the hospital. Her left side suffered partial paralysis, but the doctors say that she's likely to make a full recovery. But she'll need care 24/7 for the next three months in order to do it.

Both Cheryl and Claude live two states away from their mother. Although Claude can take a week or so of vacation, he won't be able to look after her for three months. This is where Cheryl comes in; she doesn't work, so she can help her mom for the full term.

"But, Steve," she says an hour later as I'm in the den, purchasing last-minute airline tickets and setting up a rental car for her. "We've never been apart for more than a few days. How're we going to manage three months?"

It's a valid question. I pull her into my lap, as the white terry cloth robe she's wearing falls partially open, revealing a slice of the soft, caramel curves beneath. Reaching up, I tilt her chin downward and I kiss her deeply. She melts into me in that way I love. Her chocolate nipple stiffens and pokes me in the chest.

"It's not like you're going off to war," I say, swirling my fingertip around the hard nub. My other hand reaches back to palm her tail through the robe. Cheryl squirms a bit until she gets the response she's looking for: my dark dick thickening and pressing itself into her deep asscleft. "Three months will be over before you know it."

I lean in to suckle the quivering tit. My hand slides down her soft torso; her thighs part as two of my fingers twist inside her moistening pussy. She wraps her arms around my head, pulling me into her bosom as she shudders. "Fuuuucccckkkk," she gasps as my digits saw in and out of her. "See, h-how am I g-going to l-live without--uuunnGHH--without TTHHIIISSSS--AAAHHH!!!"

Cheryl's copious cream coats my fingers and drips onto the crotch of my pajama bottoms. She's still recovering from her sweet cum when she reaches into my jammies, pulls out my fat black prong, and sits on it. She sinks all the way down as I lick her sweaty cleavage, her heaving tits hugging my ears as we embrace.

"Yeeeaaahhhh," my wife hisses as she rocks her hips, bumping the large marble of her clit against my pelvis. "Your dick, your dick, your big fucking DICK," she moans as I hunch up into her, cupping her ass and pulling her firmly into each thrust.

"UuuNNggHH," I grunt as my mushroom-like cockhead kisses her cervix. Her clasping pussy holds me deep, pulsing around me as I twist my hips, wringing out some interesting sensations from the both of us. Her pussy gives that wet popping sound, and her nails dig into my back through my shirt.

"W-who's g-going to F-FUCK ME like this, baby," Cheryl groans as she bounces on my turgid prod. "Ssshhhiiiitttt...oooOOOOHhh holy fuckin' SHIT I'm CUUUUMMMIII--"

She explodes, her body jerking about as if she's being electrocuted. I slurp at her left nipple, knowing how much it intensifies her orgasm. Her snatch squeezes my dick so tight, I'm afraid she'll break it off at the base.

But I don't cum. This is one of those times that it's not about me. I hold her close, soothing her as she comes down off her high, my hips rotating slowly, causing my prick to make lazy circles inside her. Finally her breathing slows to normal and her eyes refocus. She slowly rises off me, my hard dong wetly sliding free of her frothy box.

Bending at the waist, she gives the tip of my cock a sucking kiss. She smacks her lips, savoring the taste, then she opens her mouth wide and swallows me down, her tongue swirling all over my shaft, lapping up her pussy cream.

"Ohhh YYEEESSSS honey!" I shout as she devours my dick. My cockhead clogs the entrance to her throat as my waist moves of its own accord, twitching to and fro as her cheeks hollow out. I cradle her head in my hands as she concentrates on that magic spot on the underside of my rod, where the head meets the shaft. The tip of her tongue rapidly flicks it, making me hop around in my seat. 

"FUUCCKK Cheryl, that's it right there that's it THAT'S THE FUCKING SPOT--uuunngh," I groan as she shows no mercy, causing my spunk to rise up in my balls. My head lolls back as the ceiling begins to blur. One more long, deep suck and that's that. I hold her head tightly as I fire thick ropes of cum into her sucking maw. 

My wife releases me, then gives me a hard kiss, forcing some of my own cum into my welcoming mouth. "So nice, Steve, so so nice," she says breathlessly. Then she leaves the den to continue packing.

We both realize that we never answered her question.

***

A month goes by. Andrea is out of the hospital, and Cheryl has settled into a routine there. We share some hot phone sex sessions in the beginning, but they taper off. We realize it's ultimately a poor substitute for the real thing.

So I keep myself busy. I work longer hours. I catch up on my "Honey-Do" list around the house. And late at night, when the house is just too fucking quiet, I resort to my secret weapon: internet porn. Oh, yeah, I know where most of the free sources are, and I have a fiberoptic internet connection so I can download that shit real fast. You don't think we men need all of that speed just to read our email, do you? Shhiiittt. Porn drives all the technological advances on the web, baby. 

It works, for a time. I can jerk off two or three times in a row, and that totally exhausts me, allowing me to sleep soundly. But I still miss cuddling up to Cheryl's soft, warm form.

One Saturday, I'm mowing the lawn when I take a good look at the flower bed that spans the front of our house. I've done a reasonably good job of keeping up with the housework, but the flowers have been solely Cheryl's domain. Now, after a month of neglect, the beds need some serious weeding.

So after putting the mower away, I grab the basket of gardening tools and set to work. It's not as easy as I thought. Confusion over what's a flower and what's a weed sets in almost immediately.

Fortunately for me I hear a car horn not long after I start. I turn around, and Marie is getting out of her red Mini Cooper convertible. She's wearing an ankle-length, paisley printed skirt and a beige, silk blouse. Her long nipples are easily discernable through the blouse, and I figure that a glimpse in the mirror would make this apparent to her.

"Hi, Steve," she says when she reaches me. "I never thought of you as the gardening type."

I'm 5'8", she's 5-even, and I feel like I'm towering over her. Her short, red hair shimmers in the late-morning light. It's a breezy day, and the wind is making the material of her clothing cling to her contours. I feel a stirring down below.

"I'm not," I reply, "but I can't let the garden get out of control or Cheryl will kill me."

Marie giggles. "That is so true, her flowers are her pride and joy. Tell you what: let me go home and change, and I'll show you how to take care of these flowers properly."

"Hey, you do that and you can name your price," I say, without really thinking. 

She tilts her head and gets a quizzical look. "I'll take you up on that," she says before returning to her car.

When Marie returns, she's wearing red and taupe gardening gloves--and little else. Her top is a white, skin-tight "wife beater", which her hard nipples are straining to pierce. And her denim shorts are cut high on her leg, fully showcasing her prominent, heart-shaped ass.

"What?" she says, noticing my stunned expression. "I like to be comfortable. You're a big boy, right? You can handle this."

"Sure, sure," I reply as she kneels down to set her gardening basket on the ground. Those sprayed-on shorts rise up, revealing the bottoms of her rounded asscheeks. I groan inwardly as my dark rod stiffens involuntarily.

We get down to the serious business of gardening. The usually-demure Marie seemingly comes alive as she's guiding me on what's what. Flowers and shit must really be her thing, but I can dig it. We're brushing up against each other constantly and, between the sweat we're working up and the water that's being sprayed around, both of us are getting wet. Shirts are becoming transparent, Marie's nipples get longer and longer, and my prick gets harder and harder.

Finally, two hours later, just past noon, we're all done. "Taa daa," she says, a little out of breath. "How's it look?"

I give the whole flower bed the once-over. "I have to admit, it looks great!" I answer. "You really know your stuff!" 

She laughs. "Oh, you had doubts? Just for that, you owe me something to drink," she says, lightly punching me in the arm.

Entering the house, I head to the kitchen to fetch some iced tea while Marie stands in the living room. I wonder why she's not sitting, but then I remember we're both rather wet. So I also retrieve a couple of towels from the first floor bathroom.

"Here," I say while handing her a towel. We're quiet as I watch her dry off her torso, pat down her shorts, and dab those smooth, round thighs. My cock had started softening while I was getting the tea, but now it's back to full hardness. I've had trouble hiding it over the last two hours, but now it's on full display as I dry off myself.

Now, I'm no fool. I've been here before, and I know full well that the coffee table separating us isn't nearly enough to stop us from breaking our wedding vows.

"Whew," I say, breaking the silence while fanning myself. "I stink. I'm going to jump in the shower."

"Oh. Right," Marie replies, blinking rapidly as if she's coming out of a trance. "Before you go, though, there's the matter of my price."

I gulp, remembering my cavalier comment two hours earlier. "Oh, yeah. Okay, shoot."

"It's no big deal," she says. "I just want to see...that." And she points right at the bulge in my khaki shorts.

I back away some. "Now, Marie--"

"Come on, Steve, I just want to see it, that's all. Besides, don't you want to let it out? It's been hard for two straight hours. What made it hard, anyway? Was it my nipples?" she asks, while plucking at them through her damp, translucent shirt. "Or my ass? You can't keep your eyes off it, can you?"

Wow. This isn't the Marie I know. "Why do you want to see it? We both know your husband's bigger."

She shrugs, stepping closer. "Just curious, is all. It's so hard right now, and I know that you're going to jack off in the shower.  Aren't you? So this is my only chance." She winks. "Now, c'mon. Drop 'em."

I can still stop this. But all of a sudden, I want to see how far this new Marie will go. So I unsnap my shorts and whisk them and my wet underwear down to my ankles. My dark dick bounces up, smacking me in the gut before pointing straight ahead.

Marie quickly moves forward and kneels before me, firmly grasping my thighs, the tip of her upturned nose a mere inch from my cockhead. "OooOOOoo," she cooes. "Johnny's longer, but you're thicker. And the head is so FAT." Then she starts sniffing it, from tip to base, and all under my large, hairy balls. "MMMmmMm, it smells so sweaty, so musky. God I LOVE it..."

I look down at her red mane as she continues to get a whiff of me. I get it now: Marie's gotten all hot and dirty today, working in my garden. And Johnny, her husband, is a mechanic, and he comes home grimy and greasy. I wonder how many times they've gone at it, rolling around on the gritty floor of his garage?

She stands up with a loud sigh, still gazing at my pulsing black wand. "See? Debt paid in full. I didn't even touch it," she says huskily. "You can go jerk off now."

Our eyes meet, and now I'm stepping to her, my left hand reaching up to tweak a nipple. But before it gets to its target, Marie takes me by the wrist.

"Steve, I'm giving you fair warning," she says. "My nipples are very sensitive. They're my hot buttons. Whatever you do to them goes right to my itchy pussy. I can't be responsible for what happens if you mess with them."

I pause for maybe a second. "Fair enough," I say as I use both hands to manhandle her chest. As I said before, Marie's flat as a board, but her nipples are incredibly long. Now I know they're spongy to the touch. She hisses, throwing her head back as I roughly squeeze each point, sending jolts of pleasure down her spine. 

She wraps her hands around my twitching prong, stroking it. "God damn it, Steve, I warned you, I fucking warned you," she says breathlessly.

"Ain't nothing happen yet," I answer, pulling her to me so I can suck and bite her nipples through her shirt. One hand palms one cheek of her bubble butt, while the other unsnaps her shorts, slithers into her panties, and insinuates its middle finger between her plump, moist twat lips. Marie grunts as the finger rasps over her throbbing clit.

Now, given our eight inch difference in height, we're in an awkward position. My torso is just about perpendicular to the ground as I'm sucking her nipples, and her arms are straining as she's struggling to maintain her grip on my chocolate cock. So I quickly pick up her tiny frame and toss her on the couch. She squeals as I strip her, revealing her dark-pink breast buds and smooth, cameltoe pussy lips. Grasping her knees, I part her thighs obscenely. Her eyes widen as I lick my lips and dip my head.

"Wait, WAIT!!!" she exclaims, trying to squeeze her legs shut. "Johnny doesn't--"

"Johnny should," I grunt as my hungry mouth makes contact. Marie squirms as I nibble up one outer lip and down the other. She starts to calm down as my tongue swirls around the edges of her clit-- which grows, and grows and GROWS until it's about an inch long! This woman is full of surprises today.

Then, flattening my tongue, I swab the length of her quim, from clit to the puckered rose of her ass. After five or six swipes, I begin to softly attack her big clit, gently flicking just the tip. Her back arches, and her hips twitch with each lick.

"UuuNNggHH!!!" Marie moans as I suck her clit between my lips. "This is SOOOO NNAASSTTTYYY but so fucking GOOD oohh Steve OOOHH STEEVVEEE--EEEEEEE--" 

She screeches as the orgasm hits her, her hips bucking, mashing into my slobbering mouth. I ease off a little, letting her come back down before tongue-lashing her again. I think I can get a couple more O's out of her, and I proceed to do just that. Each time she cums, I'm rewarded with a burst of hot, tasty cream down my throat.

After the third one, I lift up from Marie's soaked slit. She's panting, her head lolled to one side, with her arms and legs akimbo. I waste no time in climbing on top of her and leveling my fat, black cock at the entrance of her pale, pink pussy. Damn, she's so tiny. I feel like a large, black bear smothering a small, red-haired bunny.

At the touch of my cockhead, Marie manages the strength to turn her head and look me in the eyes. "Steve," she whispers, "what about Cheryl? About Johnny?"

And there it is. Up til now, if you prescribe to the term, "eatin' ain't cheatin'", then Marie and I really haven't done anything yet. But as I run my mushroom-like prickhead between her tender, pouty lips, lubing it up and bumping it on Marie's super-sized clit, I realize that we can put an end to this right now. Get up, put our clothes back on, no harm, no foul.

Instead, I reach down and lazily twirl my fingertip around her quivering teat, while softly bearing down with my pelvis, slightly parting the oh-so-fucking-tight muscular ring of her vaginal mouth. "I love Cheryl," I say. "You love Johnny. This won't change any of that. We're just...sharing each other for a little while. Y'know?"

She tweaks the other nipple, writhing as my dickhead enters her a little more. "Well," she breathes, "maybe you can put the head in. But JUST the head! And--and then you have to pull it right out."

A crooked grin crosses my lips as I rotate my hips, working my fat head just inside her creamy, hot gash. It pops in, forcing a loud gasp from both of us.

"Okay okay okay," Marie says, gulping air. "Now take it OUT, Steve. Steve? Did you hear me?"

I lower my head, suck in her nipple, and hunch my pelvis. Another inch sinks in. Marie cradles my face and cums, shuddering all over, and bathing my thick, dark prod with her luscious flow.

"God DAMMNN, you're making cum so MUCH, Steve," she gasps. "B-but now you have to stop, okay?"

"Inna minute," I grunt, shoving another two inches into her clasping quim. "You're so fucking TIGHT." Now, tight isn't always good. If a woman is too snug, then you spend most of the time trying not to shoot off too soon. But Marie's four orgasms have her so lubricated that I'm inspired to bury as much of my dark dick in her as possible. So I hunch again, driving yet another inch into her. I'm halfway in now--and she blasts off once more, this time digging her nails in my back and screaming to high heaven. That's when I pull back until just the plump head is inside, and pump back in. Then I do it again. And again.

"OHmiGOD NNOOOO!!!" Marie moans, wrapping her arms and legs around me and clinging tightly. "You're FU-- you're FUC-- YOU'RE FUCKIIING MEEEE!!! W-when I tell Johnny--Johnny, he'll--"

"Shut the fuck UP," I hiss, rearing back and slamming forward. Marie's head snaps back, her lips forming an O. I grab a handful of tousled red hair and pull her face to mine...and for the first time, we kiss. Hard and powerfully. She creams even more on my invading tool and cums again, squealing into my mouth.

I look down at her, all huddled up under me, huffing and puffing, her eyes glazed over. I've got this cute, white pixie skewered on my thick, chocolate staff, but now I really want to turn her crank. So I pick up her tiny, 98-pound frame. As I stand with her, the sudden shift in weight drives her down the entire length of my pole. We both groan.

"FUCK!" she shouts as I carry her to the patio door, open it, and walk out into the backyard. Anyone can see our naked forms, but no one's around as I quickly make it to the open shed.

I put her down and bend her over the dusty patio table I keep in there. It's dirty and musty in here; Marie inhales deeply, letting the scents flood her nostrils, and she moans. "It's so FUNKY in here!" she hisses, "so fucking GRITTY...Mmmmm, I LOVE it!"

And with that, I grab each round cheek of her heart-shaped ass and re-enter her, this time ramming my prick into her slick, stretched hole. The table rocks and rattles as I pound her squeezy box, her squeals and my grunts echoing off the inner walls of the shed. She cums twice more, and now her cream is dripping off my bloated balls.

Finally, I'm puffing myself, and my legs start to tremble. I'm not in great shape to begin with, and after a morning of mowing, gardening, and fucking, I'm finally out of gas. So I give one more massive thrust, which lifts Marie on her toes; pull all the way out with a sticky pop; and let go, firing steamy streams of white, sticky cum all over her sweet ass.

We compose ourselves, make sure that no one's in the yards surrounding mine, and dart back to the house. "God, Steve, you're a bastard," says Marie as she dresses. "I smell like you now." But then she smiles, and I know she'll wear my musk all the way home.




Don't Ask, Don't Tell Ch. 01



I flop in my Barcalounger, exhausted. "Are you going to tell Johnny?" I ask.

"No," she says flatly. "I mean, you still need help tending your garden, right?"

I nod.

"And I can still do it for my price, right?"

I nod a lot.

"Well, then," she sighs, pulling up and fastening her shorts. "Ouch," she groans, rubbing her crotch while walking toward the front door. "Gonna be sore for days. You bastard."

I'm asleep before the door closes behind her. 



Don't Ask, Don't Tell Ch. 02



I go to visit Cheryl not long after my first episode with Marie. As soon as I walk through her mother's front door, she catches me with her almond-shaped, hazel, hypnotic eyes. She doesn't rush into my arms, she simply melts into my embrace and kisses me in that way that I love. I hug her tight and I realize why I love her so much all over again.

"One month," she says in a husky tone. "Piece of cake, right?" She's looking me up and down like she could sop me up with a biscuit. 

"Shiiitt," I whisper, eying her like she's a tender lamb and I'm the Big, Bad Wolf. "As soon as I get you alone, I'm gonna FYBO."

She flashes me a sexy grin. "Not if I FYBO first," she says, gently rubbing the lump in my jeans. "But you'd better tuck this away before my mother sees it."

I nod. "Let me see how you're treating Momma A," I say, wrapping my arm around her waist and walking into the living room. I expect to see Cheryl's mother, Andrea, in a wheelchair. But she's standing with the aid of crutches. She carefully makes her way to me and I hug her as she leans into my chest. I make sure she can't feel my stirrings down below.

"You look good, real good, Momma A," I say, kissing her on the forehead. Andrea's built similar to her daughter, a shapely woman with a little extra padding about the hips and thighs. But I can tell she's lost some weight since the last time I saw her. Since it's probably because of the stroke, I don't mention it.

"I'm a tough old bird, and don't you forget it," Andrea replies, leaving me to take a rest on the sofa. "And my baby girl's taking good care of me. Doctor says I'm recovering ahead of schedule because of her."

Cheryl smiles proudly at me. "I'll reward you for that later," I whisper in her ear while secretly squeezing her asscheek. This brings a small purr from her plush lips. That's when the front door quickly opens and closes. A second later, her older brother Claude enters the room. He's managed to free up a couple of weeks to give Cheryl some relief. I can only swing one weekend a month here, but I'm going to make the best of them.

"Hey, hey, old man," he says, giving me a firm handshake. "How was your trip?"

"Smooth as silk," I answer. "I was just in a hurry to get here and see my honey," I add, drawing Cheryl close again to give her a kiss on the cheek. This time, my wife doesn't meet my gaze. Claude also looks uncomfortable.

Cheryl and Claude, they've always been close, much closer than any other brother and sister I've known. They favor each other, having the same caramel skin tone and the same brown hair. Up til now I'd never seen them all weird around each other. But what am I thinking? Just a month ago they almost lost their mother, and they've made some major adjustments in their personal lives to take care of her. That would strain any relationship, right?

"You came right on time," says Claude in that rich voice of his. "Momma A and I have been talking about how Cheryl needs a break. So I took the liberty of reserving a hotel room downtown for the weekend. It's after three o'clock now so you can check in any time you want."

"CLAUDE!" my wife exclaims, disengaging from me and leaping into her brother's arms. "You are the BEST!"

He hugs her back with gusto. I can see the thick muscles of his arms flexing from here. The man is hard and lean. I mean, he actually has a rippling six-pack. He's got Terrence Howard good looks and the total hotness thing going for him. And to me, he's holding my wife just a beat too long. Still, ain't no need for me to be jealous of him. Right?

"Well, honey, then we should get going," Cheryl says as her sibling slowly releases her. "You sure this is okay, Momma?" 

"Child, yes," sighs Andrea, leaning back on the sofa cushions. "Claude's here, it's about time he got his fair share of work done for me. You go take care of your husband."

We all exchange hugs and kisses again, and then Cheryl and I hit the road. Forty-five minutes later finds us signed into our hotel. Ten minutes afterwards, after a swift elevator ride to the tenth floor, we locate Room 1011. I insert the key card and we have access to the largest hotel suite I've ever seen. Got to hand it to Claude, he's not cheap. There's even a heart-shaped jacuzzi in this bitch.

I collapse on the king-sized bed as Cheryl strips to her bra and panties and runs the water in the jacuzzi. She moves about on shaky legs, gathering bath oils, wash cloths and such before removing her underwear and resting on the edge of the tub. Her hand gauges the temperature of the water before she slips in, sinking up to her neck and leaning back with a loud sigh.

"Mmmmm," she breathes as the warm waters swirl around her lush body. "You joining me, sleepyhead?"

"Yeah, yeah, coming," I say. Truly, after the long drive it takes all of my strength to climb off the soft bed, undress, and slide in next to my wife. I begin to massage her neck and shoulders and she relaxes against me. One of my hands reach around, under her arm, to cup one of her C-cup tits, tweaking the thick, chocolate nipple into hardness. She moans as my other hand glides between her soft thighs and palms her mound. 

Now, I've never been able to fuck in a jacuzzi. The warm water enervates me, literally sucking the starch out of my hard-on. It also washes away all of Cheryl's natural lubrication. So I move to her side, giving me the room to push two fingers into her frothy depths, coating them liberally. Then I sweep them up through her tender lips, circling her clit. I repeat this until her thobbing bud is good and slick. The tip of my digits strum her button lightly while I continue to pinch her nips and suckle her favorite spot on her caramel-toned neck.

"OooHHhh, honey, I m-missed your t-touch," she moans. "Yes YEESS right THERE oh baby oh baby OOHH BAABBYYY I'm fucking CCCUUUUMMMII--"

She thrashes about as the orgasm hits her, making water spill over the sides. I'd missed how she announces her cums.

Cheryl turns around and straddles my lap, thrusting her soft tits forward, the inch-long paps pressing hard into my lips. "Sweet muthafucka," she hisses as I reach up and smush her breasts together, making both nipples touch and peak. "I've been dreaming of you doing that for weeks."

It's a good thing I'm dark-skinned, hiding my blush, because it's then that I remember what I was doing just last week with her friend, Marie. I snare her dark tips between my teeth and bite gently, making her twat bubble with juice under the water.

"UuuNngghh, yeeaahhh, do that," she moans, cradling my shaved head. "I love what you do to my titties, honey." Her hips gyrate wildly against my prick and, despite my guilt and despite the swirling waters, it begins to respond. I reach between us as it thickens and I squeeze the base, making it just hard enough to penetrate my wife's moist, blossoming petals. Groaning while still gnawing her rubbery teats, I hunch my pelvis upward, jamming a good three inches up into her. Once it's wrapped around the familiar, velvety goodness of Cheryl's quim, my fat, black dong lurches to full hardness.

My sweet darling takes full advantage of my cock, churning her hips and grinding into me. I palm each cheek of her fat ass and pull her against me, feeling her turgid clit rasp along the top of my dick. My plump, mushroom head then nudges her cervix and we both know that I am truly home.

We kiss deeply, panting into each other's mouths. Cheryl pulls back, giving me a wicked grin while pumping her hips especially hard. "FYBO?" she breathes.

I shake my head and grip her ass tightly, forcing her to hold still for a minute. "Don't have the energy for that, baby," I reply as she kisses my bald pate. "Let's just do it nice and slow, just like this..."

She laughs softly. "Nuh uh, baby," she says as she posts up and down on my rigid stalk, the water becoming much more agitated with our movement. "I've been waiting for your big ole dick for a full month, and I'm going to Fuck Your Brains Out right fucking NOW whether you want me to or not."

Now I ask you, what's a brutha to do when his woman is craving the cock like this? "Shit, honey, I don't think you can," I say, challenging her as I reach up and latch onto the sides of the jacuzzi. "I mean, you're moving that sweet ass around, but you ain't doin' nuthin."

That evil grin returns to Cheryl's face, and her twisting twat gives my thick prick two quick squeezes. "Okay, beeAATCH, I warned you," she hisses, "now hang on for the ride!"

What she proceeds to do then is something I haven't experienced since we first met. Her hips churn, buck, and bounce all over my stiff chocolate prod. We're both groaning loudly; she roars through three orgasms, each one making her creaming quim clamp down on me so goddamn tight. As she hits her fourth cum I grab her switching tail once more and fire several hot volleys of steamy sauce up into her. And for the first time in my life, I'm staying hard! 

My wife stands up then, still looking as ravenous as a female lion after a fresh kill on the Serengeti. She steps out of the tub, dripping wet and with my white cum streaming down her plump, caramel thighs. 

"Come on," she beckons, her supple asscheeks rippling as she mounts the bed on her elbows and knees, thrusting her tail up proudly. "You know you want it, fucker. Come get my ass, fuck me til you drop, baby!"

I rise like a zombie, my supernatural hard-on leading the way, my glazed eyes focusing squarely on her wide, swishing hips. I grip her tightly, my fingers digging into her flesh as my fat, mushroom cap kisses her clasping vaginal opening. "You have such a nice ass," I grunt as I jam into her, gliding all the way to her back wall with one stroke.

At that point, I lose it. I grip Cheryl by her haunches and I proceed to fuck the living shit out of her. She groans deeply in a mixture of pleasure and pain as my pelvis goes on automatic and my thick cockhead bangs her drum again and again.

I don't know where the energy comes from. This is beyond desire, beyond exhaustion. I want to give her all of me; I want to restore to her what I gave to Marie, exceed it by a power of ten, own her, possess her again.

"Oh--my--God--OH--MY--GODDD!" she moans, each word punctuated by a hard thrust of my dark, iron rod. "OooHHH Steve that's the spot muthaFUCKA THAT'S THE SPOT OooHHH SHIIITTT--"

Cheryl's lush body shivers all over as she rips through another orgasm. I look down as I take another long stroke; my dark shaft glistens with the slick mixture of our cum. Her steamy scent flares my nostrils and I suddenly feel like a Kentucky Derby winner mounting a wild mare. Damn, this is the shit!

My honey lowers her face to the bed, then, gritting her teeth as her hands claw the comforter. We've been going at it for the better part of an hour. Her pussy must be getting just as sore as my prick. At this point, I'm not even sure I can cum again.

"Oh, Steve, shit, you've got to slow down, baby, god DAMN you're fucking me so DEEP," Cheryl says, her voice strained. "You win, honey, oooohh fuuuccckkk, you fucking WIN you FUCKED my goddamn BRAINS out so please CUM honeyyyy, please cummmm..."

Damn. I want to keep going til I burn out, because this brutha LOVES to fuck. But it's only 5pm; the night's still young. So I acquiesce, shifting my thrusts from hard and jarring to smooth and silky. I can get more sensation this way, and within a minute I feel that buzz at the base of my spine and that tingle in my balls. My grip on her asscheeks increases ever so slightly, and Cheryl responds by grinding her hips into mine, twisting right and left, corkscrewing the cum right out of my throbbing shaft and forcing me to shoot it deep within her snatch.

We both breathlessly collapse on the bed. After a few minutes, we crawl under the sheets and cuddle. I'm soothing her, caressing her back as she lays her head on my chest. Suddenly, Cheryl lifts up, gazes into my eyes intently, and kisses me very deeply.

"You know I love you very, very much, don't you?" she says, looking so vulnerable at that moment.

"Yes, I do, honey," I answer sincerely, "and I love you."

"Mmmmm," she hums with satisfaction. With that, she again rests her head on my chest and drifts off to sleep.

And that's the way it goes for the remainder of Friday through Sunday morning. We have intense bouts of hard fucking, followed by tender affirmations of love. Something's on Cheryl's mind, but she's not voicing it. So neither do I share about Marie. 

By the time we make it back to Momma A's Sunday afternoon, it's like the past month never happened. Cheryl and I are complete again. And on the drive home, I convince myself that I can resist Marie, and I can wait until I see my sweet wife next month.

When I arrive home, Providence seems to be smiling on me. Marie has sent me an email; she and Johnny are out of town, touring race tracks for a week or two, putting Johnny's garage car through its paces.

Fine by me. I throw myself into my work. There are computer audits to do. I have my hands full, with 150 machines to cover. But soon, within a week-and-a-half of my return, the urges begin to hit. It's not too long before I start gritting my teeth and getting snippy with my workmates.

But I'm not helpless. After one particularly-tough day, I hole up in my study--my "man cave"--crank up my laptop, and start browsing the online porn sites. My main source dried up when my internet service provider cut off access to most of the newsgroups. But I soon found some Flash-driven web sites to replace them. If anything, I'm resourceful.

It's not long before my pants are open and my dark dong is sticking out of my tighty-whities. I'm stroking it to one of my favorite videos. In it, a plump white girl is fucking herself hard with a big black dildo while buzzing her clit with one of those "back massagers." Her legs are thrown high in the air and her chestnut hair is tousled, partially hiding her face. But the best part is when she climaxes: she shoots her juice nearly ten feet! Yeah, I love the squirters, man. They really push my buttons.

Anyway, the stroking is getting good, real good. The dark-red head of my prick is swollen; pre-cum leaks out and my thumb smears it all over my sensitive head. I'm pinching my left nipple, which is sending electric jolts to my throbbing shaft. That familiar tingle is starting just below my churning balls.

The girl in the video has this habit of counting to three before she gushes. My hand is racing up and down my fat black prod, because I want to reach my peak when she does.

"One!" she shouts, her hand plunging the dildo very deep inside herself. I groan at the sight and sound of her creaming twat. Making a ring of my thumb and index finger, I twist them under the flared rim of my fat, mushroom cap. That makes me yelp with pleasure.

"Two!" she moans. Now her hips are thrusting up to meet the fake cock, and the muscles in her plump thighs are straining. I tweak my nipple harder as I stroke my twitching dick from head to base. My head lolls back and my toes curl. Fuck, this is going to be a good one, I think as I prepare to blast off.

"THR--" BANG! BANG! BANG!

The girl squirts on cue. But the loud banging on my front door has short-circuited my own orgasm. This sure as fuck better be the COPS, I grouse as I zip up my pants. Sure, I got a tent in my crotch a mile long, but shit, this MY house. If they don't like what they see, they can leave--which is what I want them to do, anyway.

The banging continues and I'm shouting a full stream of expletives that would make a sailor blush. I yank the front door wide open and scream, "WHAT THE *FUCK* DO YOU WAN--"

Standing there in a charcoal, pinstriped pantsuit is Trixie, my wife's friend. The suit has been tailored perfectly to fit her lush BBW curves. My eyes wander from her thick thighs up to her torso, which is covered by a cream, silk blouse. Her massive tits are straining the buttons, the top two of which are undone, revealing deep, milk-chocolate cleavage. When my bulging orbs finally reach her face, her pouty, glossy lips are smirking at me. Her hair is pulled back in a large Afro-puff, and her big, brown eyes are arched mockingly.

"Daammnn, Steve," she says. "You always answer the door like this, cursin' and with yo' dick pokin' out? What if I was a Girl Scout, selling cookies?"

I'm still pissed off, but she has me. "What you need, woman? You know Cheryl ain't here."

"Obviously, Mr. Big Dick Smarty-Pants," she chuckles, openly appraising my hard-on. "I'm here to see you, Steve," she adds, brushing by me to enter my house. As she passes by, her big, soft hip nudges my covered dong. I barely stifle a groan.

"I have an emergency," Trixie continues, dropping a black carrying case on my coffee table. "This is my husband's laptop. He catchin' a flight to Chicago in three hours and he wants me to bring it to him at the airport. Problem is," she says, plopping on the sofa with an exasperated sigh, "he locked hisself out of his desktop, and he needs you to get him back in."

I scratch my bald head. "How'd he lock himself out? Doesn't he know his own password?"

"He says he changed it and forgot what it is now," she replies. "Look, he got some important spreadsheets on here and he'll be in some serious shit if he can't get to them. Can you help?"

Okay, there are two things you need to know about Trixie. First, she's a schemer. Cheryl has regaled me with tales of how Trixie gets what she wants when she wants it, and she's not particular on how it happens. I've heard of her meteoric rise from secretary to office manager to assistant vice president of marketing. She did nothing illegal, but there are some knife wounds in some co-workers' backs. That shit always comes back to haunt you.

Second, Trixie is sexy as hell. She's a big girl, but she exudes supreme self-confidence. That makes her radiate sensuality in waves. (That's what most BBWs don't get. The size doesn't matter. If you dress well and carry yourself like you own the world--or at least your corner of it--damn, that's sexy as all get out.) And right now, the waves are radiating all over my twitching cock. I move until I'm standing in front of her. The tent in my slacks is at mouth level, and she begins speaking into it like it's a microphone.

"Fuck, Steve, will you get that thing outta my FACE?" she asks, a little flustered. "Do you know how long it's been since I seen a hard dick?"

Sometimes I forget that her husband, Theo, is impotent. At least with her. But I stand my ground; I want her as off-balance as possible so she doesn't have time to work up a lie. "Listen, Trix," I start, using Cheryl's nickname for her, "what's this all about? Don't piss up my back and tell me it's raining. You're not going to run a line on me. So spill. What did you do to that laptop? And remember, you're running out of time."

She bites her lip before letting out a sigh. I feel her warm breath wash over my prick through two layers of clothing, making it visibly jump.

"Okay, shit," Trixie hisses. "I was fuckin' around, tryin' to log on. I tried four times an' then the bitch locked on me. If you can't get it unlocked, we're both screwed. He really does have alla his business crap on here. So c'mon, stud. Help me out."

"Damn, Trix, I really don't know if I can," I reply honestly. "I'm going to have to try some really wild shit. It might make things worse. I don't even think I should try."

Our eyes meet and she looks at me very intently for a moment. Then her gaze slowly drifts down my chest, over my gut, and settles on my bobbing cock. That's when her full, glossy lips curl up in a smirk again.

"Then I have a little business proposition for you," she breathes, sensually licking her lips just inches from my bulge. My traitorous love muscle spasms involuntarily, and I can feel my pre-cum leaking out in my underwear, getting them all sticky. Now I have to wonder who's off-balance, here.




Don't Ask, Don't Tell Ch. 02



"It's an easy little thing," she continues, "just a little quid pro quo. I do it at work alla time. You do a little somethin' fo' me, I do a little somethin' fo' you..."

I regard her smooth, milk-chocolate complexion, a couple of shades lighter than my own. Then I back away, shaking my head. "Look, woman, I'll fix it for free," I say, picking up the case. "Not to be rude, but I just want you out of my house so I can relax. That cool?"

"If that's what you really want," she says huskily as I head for my study. Once I'm inside, I shakily close the door behind me and let out a large sigh of relief.

Shit, that was a close one, I think as I unpack the laptop and set it up. I handled that totally wrong and it almost came back to bite me in the ass. But this'll all be over as soon as I take care of this little problem.

My keychain has two 1-gigabyte thumb drives on it; one blue, one black. The blue one has all of my emergency diagnostic and repair software on it. So does the black one, but with a twist: they're all "wareZ", what I call my heavy-duty "black ops" shit. Sure, it's illegal. Sure, we I.T. professionals are supposed to decry it. But if the CEO hoses her machine and I got the cure for what ails it, she looks the other way, sho' nuff.

Trixie's fuck-up calls for the wareZ. I could fix the login with the blue drive, but the trick here is to restore the original password and then erase all signs that it's been tampered with. Which I do in less that eight minutes. I take another ten to snoop around, because I know what Trixie was looking for. It's not that I want to dip my wick in another man's game, but curiosity gets the best of me, and soon I find a hidden folder with all the incriminating shit on it.

Theo's a smart guy. He's got some good protection on here, but he's still dumb for keeping this stuff. Chat logs, webcam videos, and photos of him and his admin assistant detail his whole affair. Dumbass. 

I should do him a favor and wipe it all out. It's not like he can turn around and blame Trixie for his hidden files being erased, right? Instead, I plug in my 500-gig USB drive and copy it all. Then I shut the laptop down, pack it up, and take it back out to Theo's waiting wife.

"Here it is," I announce. "It's all se--"

Fuck. Trixie is standing next to the coffee table now. Her suit jacket is off, and she's shrugging out of her sleeveless blouse, revealing soft arms, a smooth, round tummy--and a HUGE white, industrial-strength bra.

"All set?" she asks while stepping to me, reaching behind her back to unsnap her bra hooks. "Got it all fixed, baby?"

"Trixie," I say as she begins to remove the giant harness. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You just saved my fat ass, Steve," she replies as the bra drops to the floor and her enormous cans flop free. "I can't let you do that fo' nuthin'." She takes my hands and places them on her milk-chocolate whoppers. "They're F cups. Now you know."

The full, hefty hangers are hot in my palms. I can't help but thumb the thick, blackberry-like nipples at their tips. Trixie purrs in response.

My cock, which had softened while I was working on the laptop, plumps up instantly and tents my pants again. The big girl before me notices; she swiftly opens my pants, shucks them and my underwear down to my ankles, and firmly grasps my chunky cock.

"Yeahhh, there it is, that's what I want," she hisses as she times her strokes to my tweaking of her thick paps. "Quid pro quo, honey, c'mere," she purrs, leading me by my cock over to my Barcalounger and pushing me into it. She then kneels at my feet and parts my knees wide, allowing her to get all cozy with my dark, twitching prong.

Goddamn, everything's happening so fast! And all the blood rushing to my dick has literally made me dizzy. Trixie's stroking of my long shaft while juggling my bloated balls isn't helping, either.

I manage to reach up and push her shoulders away. "Shit, woman, you have to stop," I grunt. "Stop, before we do something we'll both regret."

"I never regret NUTHIN'," she replies, leaning forward to bat my prick with her massive mams. "I treat people who do me favors good, Steve, REAL fuckin' good. And I know what you need, since you waved this big stick in my face an' all. So don't fight me. You been wantin' my tig ole bitties for years--an' now you gonna GET 'em!"

With that, Trixie lowers her chest until my pulsing prick is engulfed in soft, hot titflesh. I mean, her titties literally FLOW around my dick; I've never felt anything quite like it. I groan loudly, despite myself. 

"Like it, honey?" she asks, smirking. "All y'all men do. Y'all so easy." Then she drools long strings of saliva all over my mushroom-like dickhead, which lazily drips down my shaft and into her cavernous cleavage. Within a minute, I feel it escaping the underside of her breasts and coating my balls. Trixie then smushes her jugs even tighter around my shaft, until it's completely sealed within her hot, slippery chasm.

"Shhhiiittt, Trix," I gasp, "holy fucking SHIT!"

"Uh huh, yeahhh baby," she hisses as she jiggles her titties around my concealed cock. "Feels like a little pussy, don't it? Your pre-cum's leaking out, too; it's gettin' nice an' slippery now, huh?"

My hips thrust on their own accord, making my bloated prick slice deeply into her cleavage. I reach down and replace her hands, filling my palms with her doughy breastmeat, squeezing them even tighter around me. With her hands now free, I hear a zipper being undone, and then a loud moan escapes Trixie's lips.

"Ummmmm," she breathes, "I love to touch myself while gettin' tittyfucked. Go 'head an' take yo' time, baby, yeaahhh, like THAT, stroke 'em real good, real DEEP, God I feel this shit alla way down to my PUSSY, Steve, uuUuMmm..."

Oh, fuck, this is absolutely delicious. My vision starts to blur. "You're right, Trix, I've been dreaming about your BIG ass TITS, SSHHHiiitt, they feel so Goddamn GOOODDD wrapped around my PRICK, uhhngh--UUHHNNgggHhh..."

I'll hand it to Trixie, she doesn't cheat me. She has places to be, but she still lets me luxuriate in all of that marvelous, milk-chocolate flesh. But it's not long before I get that tingle at the base of my fat cock. My grip on her spongy melons tightens as I speed up my thrusts. 

Trix smirks again, knowingly. "I know you not goin' to last long, Steve, an' neither am I," she says. "So go 'head and shoot, honey, SHOOT alla that HOT cream all over my TITTIES, babe--OooHHH yeesss like that, stroke me LIKE THAT, cumm Steve CUMMM--"

All of this hot titflesh and all of that hot talk does me in. I thrust up high and hold it, clenching my quivering asscheeks as I pump a hot, gooey load of cream right into her cleavage as Trixie squeals and shudders all over, her orgasm arriving with mine.

I collapse into my lounger, puffing. Trixie hefts her enormous jugs and separates them, releasing my cum-slathered cock--and displaying her cream-smeared cleavage to my eyes. Although I'd just bust a nut, my dick still gives a lurch at the wanton sight. 

"Dammnn, you must've been backed up, baby," she says huskily. "Ain't seen this much nut in years. You must REALLY like my titties, huh?" She giggles as she puts her bra back on, trapping my juice within her massive bosom. Then she covers it with her blouse and her suit jacket. "There," she says, "now Theo will never notice. I mess up a lotta bras this way, though."

Jesus, this woman is bold, I muse as I manage to pull up my pants and stagger to the front door, following her switching hips.

"You sure the laptop is alright now, Steve?" she asks, opening the door. "Theo'll have my ass if it ain't."

"He'll never know you fucked with it," I say. "And leave it the hell alone from now on."

Trixie gives me a beaming smile. "Why should I?" she replies, openly fondling my crotch in broad daylight before moving toward her car. "You got just the right tools to fix ERRYthin'."

"Dammit, Trix...!" I protest, but she's already halfway to her car. Fuck it, I think, closing the door and leaning against it while catching my breath.

It's a sad thing to do, but I start rationalizing the whole thing. I mean, yeah, I titfucked her. So what? It was basically like masturbating between two warm, soft, fleshy pillows. And I didn't even kiss her. That's a damn sight better than what happened between me and Marie. Besides, Trixie got what she wanted; I sincerely doubt she'll be back.

There's a nice little bonus from it, too: I'm not snapping everyone's head off at work. And at night, although I know it's wrong, I pore over the videos, pictures, and chat logs I pulled from Theo's laptop. Watching Theo plug the sopping-wet twat of his blond, shapely assistant over and over is addictive. Although I do feel bad for Trixie, it doesn't prevent me from stroking off to the hot body of her competition.

And then, there's Trixie herself. I didn't take any pictures of her, but the image of her ginormous boobs wrapping around my stiff, dark meat is indelibly imprinted in my cerebral cortex. As the days go by, I end up wanting to see and touch more of her. But to do that, I have to deliberately scheme for it to happen. I will have to actively plan to betray Cheryl. That's the only thing that holds me back.

So anyways, I'm chatting online to a co-worker one morning, helping him fix a problem on a computer in one of our branch offices, when another IM window pops up. I know who it is immediately.

Trixalicious69: What's up?

myndstorm5: Workin. How'd u get my screen name?

Trixalicious69: I hv my ways? Can u talk?

myndstorm5: Not long. Wats on ur mynd?

Trixalicious69: cute. Just thinkin that u know Theo's password 4 his laptop, rite?

myndstorm5: no comment. Thot I told u 2 leave that alone?

Trixalicious69: Sh*t, Steve, u know I can't do that. Cmon, man, help a sista out?

And there it is. All I have to do is say no, block her screen name, and go on with my life. But shit, her huge tits...and her big ass, which I never got to touch, let alone see... and what lay between her marvelous, thick, milk-chocolate thighs...

myndstorm5: Wats in it 4 me?

Trixalicious69: LOL. quid pro quo, huh? watsamatta, u miss momma's big ole tits? Or do u want sumptin else?

myndstorm5: sumptin else

Trixalicious69: I'll give u anything u want, but u betta hv some good sh*t 2 trade.

myndstorm5: Trust me, I got evrything u need.

Trixalicious69: Well, then.

I arrive at her office building the following evening at 6pm. Trixie meets me next to the security desk. The guard and I both are slobbering over her attire. She's wearing a red, sleeveless, mock turtleneck that's almost stretched to bursting across her expansive chest. Her black skirt fits snugly, ending three inches above her knees; it has a slit on one side running up to mid-thigh. The slit reveals the top of her black, thigh-high pantyhose. Topping it off is a pair of black, patent-leather, five-inch "Fuck Me" pumps, which makes her about an inch taller that me.

I sign in and follow her to the elevators. Trixie has some junk in her trunk, and I enjoy watching it sway wildly from right to left as I trail behind her.

When the elevator doors close, I finally feel safe enough to speak.

"Whew, Trixie," I say, openly appraising her. "You didn't come to work dressed this way, did you?"

She laughs. "Give me some credit, Steve," she replies. "I'ma little crazy, but not stupid. I changed after everyone left." She pauses to let that sink in. "Yeah, this is all fo' YOU, baby."

I can't help but grin at the implications of that. "Is that right?" I say, moving closer to her."

She stiff-arms me, keeping some space between us. "Down, boy," she giggles as the elevator doors open on the fifth floor. "Business first. C'mon."

I follow her past a host of empty cubicles and desks to a glass-walled, richly appointed office. Once we're inside, she locks the door and draws the curtains, shrouding us in secrecy.

She takes a seat behind her wide, mahogany desk. "Now, Steve," she begins, "whatcha got fo' me?"

I remove my USB hard drive from my suit jacket's inner pocket. "This," I reply. "Now first, I want to make sure I'm not implicated in any of this shit. In other words, you didn't get this from me. Understood?"

She laughs. "Coverin' yo' ass, I likes that," she says, her voice growing husky. "What else? What do you want from me?"

"From you? Well, uhh," I stammer. This is it. After my next words, there's no turning back.

"Wellll?" she teases.

"Your ass, Trixie," I say, not bothering to conceal my rampant lust. "Your big, fat, wonderful ASS."

"Yeah?" she says, smirking again. "That ALL you want?"

"No," I say, "but let's play it by ear."

"Uh huh," she replies, standing to allow me to sit at her desk. "Hook up your dohickey and show me what's what."

Which I do, opening up a couple of the webcam videos and the chat logs. "There you go, Trix."

"Move back," she whispers. I scoot back in her highback, black-leather chair, giving her room to see her computer screen. The act places her large, skirt-covered bottom right before me. She shifts her weight from the left leg to the right, making her asscheeks dance in front of my face. 

"C'mon; Steve, don't be shy," she says. "Feel me up while I check this shit out."

Fuck it, I think, leaning forward to bury my face in her asscleft. My hands squeeze and grope her jiggly globes as Trixie exclaims angrily, "That muthaFUCKA! That no good sonuvaBITCH!!" My black rod stiffs up as I immerse myself in her scent, and I realize something right off.

"You're not wearing any panties," I grunt while smoothing my hands around her plush thighs, fingering the lacy tops of her hosiery.

"Nope," she says, wriggling her hips from side to side, rolling her ass all over my face. "I never wear any when I'm about to get some dick."

My fat, dark prod lurches to full attention with that. "Is that so?" I ask, relishing her hip movements.

"Sure is," she answers. "I've been wantin' yo' cock ever since you came between my tits. Such a thick piece a' meat, an' I always get what I want."

I brazenly push her skirt up and over her voluminous hips, exposing all her milk-chocolate toned assflesh to my eyes.

"Oh my fucking GOD!!" I gasp. I mean, my wife Cheryl has a sweet, juicy tail. But shit, Trixie has ass for DAYS. I can't help myself; I start kissing, and nipping and licking all over those fabulous cheeks. She moans and pushes back, giving me as much of her delicious derriere as I can handle.

"Oooohh, FUCK yeahhh," Trixie hisses. "That's right, BITE that big ass...MMmmm, yeah, Steve, do that agai--AAhGghh, oh muh GAWD! You sure know how to treat a big girl, baby..."

"UUMMPPHH," I answer, dipping my head lower, flicking my tongue at her puffy, moist pussylips. She gets the hint and spreads those plump thighs, providing better access. My tongue stabs between her labia, scooping out some cream. We both groan as I get my first taste of her tangy twat in my mouth.

"Dammnn, Steve," she says, looking back to see my face smothered by her rear. "I really love what you doin' to me, but I gots to get your cock in me. Right now, Mr. Big Dick, right NOW."

I pull back from her now-glistening tail to undo my pants and work them down to my ankles. Then I use my hands to guide her wide hips, lowering them until my bloated dickhead is notched at the opening of her dripping quim.

That's when Trixie takes over. A moan emanates from deep within her as she rotates her large bottom; my head enters her with a sticky POP. Then she S-L-O-W-L-Y absorbs the rest of my twitching prick, inch by inch, until she settles at my root, her wide ass spreading all over my lap. I grunt as the feeling of her hot, velvety pussy wraps around me.

"Geeezus," she groans, rocking her ass. "OooHHH GodDAMN! It's been so long...So. Fuckin'. LOONNGG. UUHhhnngghhh...you in me up to my THROAT, Steve...Lissen: I've taken men other than Theo between my titties and in my mouth before, but never up in my pussy. I jus' wanted you to know that."

I hear her and all, but I'm concentrating on the dizzying sight of her quivering asscheeks rising and falling on my dark prong. Mouse clicks can be heard; she's still going through the files, watching her husband's betrayal as she posts strongly on my shaft. Within a minute, she jams herself all the way down on me, and her big body quakes all over. Suddenly my dark cockshaft is awash with white cream.

"UUhhn," Trixie groans, resuming her fucking, "I ain't...cum...like THAT...in YEARS, honey...Ahh, ooHH FUUUCKKK! Lemme do it, Steve, lemme WORK this big stick, I promise I'll make you cum REAL good, okay, baby, okay? OH! Oooohh SHIITTT--"

Trixie cums again, this time lowering her head onto her desk as her hips bounce on my thick, black pole. This time it takes her a few minutes to recover; all of her weight presses down on my dick. I hunch my pelvis up as best I can, nudging her cervix each time, eliciting a series of moans from her. Man, her pussy flutters and ripples the length of my prick. She's fucking me without even moving!

"Umm ooohh yeahhh Steve, honey, that's good, stir up Momma's pussy, yeahhh like thattt," Trixie gasps while grinding her ass. "Y-you--you gotta let me catch my breath so I can f-fuck you RIGHT, b-baby--quid pro quo, remember? You delivered, so I gotta--OH! OooHHH NOOOO don't hump up in me like THAAT, you gonna--I'm GONNNAA CUUUMM--"

This time I have to dig my fingers into her fat asscheeks to steady her as she thrashes about on my lap. Her hands claw her desk, seeking purchase of its edge as she shudders, her orgasm rocking her large frame to its core. Her sticky twat grips my rigid prong tightly, making me grit my teeth.

Finally, Trixie kind of collapses on me, all of her energy spent. Her pussy is pulsing, with aftershocks rippling up and down my shaft, but I can tell that she's all fucked out. She's half-panting, half-sobbing as she rests her head on her desk, slack-jawed and drooling.

Now, I'm a good lover, but I'm not all that. I know that it's been a good long while since this woman's had some dick, and it's overwhelmed her. No one should have to go too long without some good sex. I know; I've been there. 

Still, I didn't come all this way to not get my nut. So I wrap my hands around Trixie's soft waist and I hunch up into her steamy, creamy goodness. "Uh--UUhh--UUHHN!!" she goes, in time with each of my thrusts. "Get it get it get YOURS, baby, you deserve it, yes you DDOOOO..."

"Yes--I--DO!" I exclaim, finishing with three hard pumps, cramming my mushroom-like cockhead against her cervix and blasting off. My toes curl in my shoes as I squirm in my seat; my black prick squirts over and over within Trixie's juicy box. When my balls are completely empty, I let out a deeply-satisfied "aaahhhhh," slumping in the executive chair.

Through my cum-induced haze I hear more mouseclicks. Trixie is watching and reading more videos and chat logs while I'm recovering, my softening prick marinating in our combined juices.

At last, after several more minutes, she rises on shaky pins. My limp dick drops onto my hairy balls with a sticky plop. She grabs a wad of tissues from the box on her desk and stuffs it between her plush thighs.

"Whew, Steve," she says. "I ain't used to that kind of action anymo'. And you dangerous with that thing. I mean, daammnn! I'll be right back."

I snatch some tissues from the box and try to mop myself up. By the time she gets back from (presumably) the Ladies' Room, my pants are zipped up and I'm fully composed, as is she.

"So, listen," I begin, "I need my hard drive back. Do you want me to copy the files to your computer, or...?"

Trixie fishes her keyring from her purse. "Copy some of them on this," she says, pointing to the thumb drive dangling from it. She tells me which files to transfer, and we're all set within ten minutes.




Don't Ask, Don't Tell Ch. 02



"You getting a divorce, Trix?" I ask. "You can take him to the cleaners now."

"Nahhh," she answers. "At least not yet. Even after alla this shit, I still love his cheatin' ass, you know? An' the brutha can sure pull in the loot. No, right now I jus' wanna show him that I'm the Head Bitch in Charge and that he betta toe MY muthafuckin' line from here on out."

I scratch my head, puzzled. "But why?" I ask. "It's not like he's going to start fucking you again."

"Shiiittt, I don't even want him, now," she says. "I gots men who've been tryin' to get inside my panties for years. Now I'm gonna give 'em a taste--if they make it worth my while, you know? As for Theo, I'll have lunch with his little slut secretary, show her some of these videos, and force her to quit. Then let's see how HE like goin' without for a while. See, you gotta know how to WORK this shit, baby."

Yeah, whatever, I think. I'm just glad I'm on her good side.

We leave her building together. I'm about to ask her to join me for dinner, but she's on the phone to Theo's office as soon as we step outside. Oh, well, what do I care? I did my good deed for the day and got my balls emptied to boot.

And there's only ten days left before I see Cheryl again.