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Too Great a Temptation Ch. 01

By: jack_straw



PREFACE:

This is the first of a five-part series of erotic stories about a marriage in trouble. They were inspired by and are based upon a letter that appeared in July 2005 in Annie's Mailbox, an advice column written by Kathy Mitchell and Marcy Sugar, longtime editors of the Ann Landers column. It is distributed to newspapers across America by Creators Syndicate, Inc.

The letter was written by Clueless in New York, who recently discovered that his wife of many years has a secret life of which he was previously unaware. His wife is a businesswoman who travels extensively out of state, and in the course of these trips, she has become involved in several extramarital sexual affairs of long standing. His question to the column is whether to confront his wife with this knowledge or pretend that he is still unaware of her activities while on the road.

The advice given to him in the column is to tell his wife what he has discovered and request that she go with him for marriage counseling. Ms. Mitchell and Ms. Sugar close with the admonition that the wife, "needs to put her marriage first, and that means making it more important than her job, which apparently provides too great a temptation.

These stories look at this wounded marriage through the eyes of both parties. They make no moral judgments upon either the husband or the wife, although there is no debate about who is the guilty party. Nevertheless, the stories avoid demonizing the wife, while at the same time they do not exonerate her for her behavior. 

The dates that appear at the beginning of each chapter correspond to a meeting with the couple's (fictitious) marriage counselor, a Dr. Jessica Newton, and the commentary in each part reflects the couple's situation, plus their thoughts and attitudes, at that particular time.

While providing explicitly detailed descriptions of the wife's encounters, with an eye toward sexually arousing the reader, they also seek to finds ways of understanding and explaining why an otherwise loving wife would willingly jeopardize her marriage for the sake of sexual gratification.

If you are not comfortable reading about a wife who willfully cheats on her husband, or if such stories anger you, remember that no one is holding you hostage, and you are free to move on to something a little more to your liking.

****

JUNE 27, 2005

Howard's story

It was raining that Saturday, washing out my plans to spend the day doing yard work.

Still, when I'm home alone on a weekend, as I was that day a little more than a week ago, I like to make myself useful around the house, so I decided it was time to tackle the basement. It hadn't had a good, thorough going-over in at least seven, maybe eight years, and over that time, boxes of junk had accumulated.

I was home alone that weekend because my wife, Shelley, was in California on business, and wasn't due back for several days. We've been married 31 years, and we've both worked, with the exception of when she was out having our younger son, very early in her career.

I'm head of the loan department for a bank, while Shelley works for a major manufacturing corporation based in midtown Manhattan. I used to work in the city, as well, but about 12 years ago, I sought a little slower pace and took a job with a bank located closer to our home in suburban Westchester County. We've had this house for 25 years, it's fully paid for, and I always thought it was a happy, cozy home.

I'm pretty quiet and mild-mannered by nature, and the slower pace suits me. Shelley, however, is a lot more outgoing, a lot more assertive and a lot more career-oriented. She started with her company right out of college, and has moved steadily up the ladder.

Seven years ago, she received a promotion to a junior vice-president position, which she currently holds, and that job requires a fairly significant amount of out-of-state travel. 

Shelley goes on business trips about every four to six weeks, sometimes more often, usually to Chicago, Washington D.C., Miami or Los Angeles, places where her company has major clients that she is required to visit periodically. The lengths of the trips vary, from a couple of days to four or five days.

Shelley and I met when I was in high school, when I was a junior, and she was a freshman, which at that time was junior high. It was love at first sight, at least for me. 

She was (and still is) a natural blonde, with penetrating steel-blue eyes, a ready smile and a lean, compact body that she works hard to maintain. She's now 49 and looks at least 10 years younger.

We were a matched pair all through her high school years, and it's a wonder she didn't get pregnant before she did, not long after she graduated from high school. We were hot for each other from the beginning, but we managed to wait on sex until right before I was started college, after we'd been together for two years.

Once we took the plunge, though, we were insatiable. Shelley was (and is) a firecracker in bed, an energetic lover who has never denied me anything I wanted sexually. I went to college close to home, so that I could be close to Shelley, and we fucked just about every chance we got. She is all the woman I've ever needed.

Getting pregnant only postponed Shelley's college ambitions for a couple of years, however, because once I graduated from college and went to work, I dutifully put her through college, the way I had promised her father I would when we married.

We had our second son not long after she graduated from college, then she had her tubes tied and set about making a career. I was a little disappointed, because I was hoping to try for a daughter, but Shelley has always gotten what she wants, and she was adamant about not having another child.

Our two boys are grown now, with wives and families of their own. Our older son, David, is 30 with a son and a daughter, and our younger son, Jason, is 24, with a son born less than a year ago. We take a lot of pride in them, and we dote on our grandchildren. 

Both of our sons turned out well, although Shelley wasn't as big a part of their lives as most moms, one reason why I decided to get a job closer to home. I am far more domestic than she is, and I don't mean that in a negative way. It's just the way our marriage evolved.

As I sit here and try to figure out what went wrong, I've put all of these little pieces together from our past and come up with some vague explanations for why she did what she did, but they really aren't sufficient.

Certainly, I'm not the young stud I once was, not that I was ever what you'd call a stud. But when I was younger, I had a full head of thick brown hair, now gone gray and thinning rapidly. I've always been told I was nice-looking, and I guess that hasn't changed.

However, over the years I have put on about 25 pounds that no amount of yard work will take off, and I haven't been inclined to spend a lot of time at the health club, the way Shelley does. 

Occasionally, I'll go with her to the club and walk the track, while she attacks the Stairmaster and the treadmill, but that's the extent of my interest in exercising. That's mostly because she prefers to get her workout in during the evening, after she gets off the train from work. I'm usually at home by then, and not all that willing to get back out.

Our sex life, though, has remained pretty good, or at least I thought it had. We still make love two or three times a week, which I thought was quite good for a man of 51. I guess in terms of our respective biological clocks, I haven't been able to keep up with Shelley, but I never got any indication from her that she was less than satisfied with our sex life.

So I was working in the basement that rainy summer afternoon, trying to clear out some space, when I came across a box that had been sort of hidden away in a corner, under some bags of old tax receipts. When I opened the box, I saw that it contained some of Shelley's work documents, including her logbooks.

Now Shelley is very meticulous about her life, and she's very well organized, especially in relation to her job. So she keeps detailed logs of everything she does on the job, day in and day out, both in the office and on the road. And, as I was soon to learn, she doesn't leave anything out.

I honestly wasn't snooping, because I had no reason to snoop. Never in the whole 31 years we've been married have I had any reason to suspect that she was cheating on me.

I mean, Shelley has always behaved in a loving manner toward me when we're together. I have never heard any whispers of scandal about her, no "knowing" looks, no anonymous letters or tips, nothing that would have led me to believe that my wife was anything other than a happily married mother and grandmother.

We are very well thought of in our community, and we have a modest circle of longtime friends who think we are the perfect couple.

So I wasn't in any way suspicious about Shelley's job-related activities. But I was curious to see what was in her logbooks, since she has never been one to talk a lot about the details of her job, especially when she travels. After what I discovered, I can understand why.

Each logbook covered a calendar year, beginning in 1998, when she got her promotion, so I started there. At first, the log entries were pretty mundane, details about meetings with clients and contracts with companies she was dealing with here in New York, then in other cities.

After about six months, however, I noticed that whenever she was in Chicago, one man's name kept showing up, a Louis Bertelli. I read with concern, then mounting alarm, then dismay as the entries became more and more intimate.

It started with routine meetings in his office, then progressed from there to dinner at her hotel to late-night meals at fine restaurants to nightclub visits until I finally came across the entry that began the process of shattering my world.

It was dated in early November, about eight months after her promotion, and it was quite detailed...

Shelley's story

You can put a gun to my head, and I still won't be able to tell you exactly why I started cheating on Howard.

There are a lot of reasons, and none of them by themselves would have been enough to push me into adultery. But all together, they built up an unstoppable momentum, to the point where I freely and willingly chose to enter into a series of sexual relationships outside of my marriage. 

Let there be no mistake. I was the one who decided to step out on my husband. I wasn't coerced into these relationships, I was relatively sober when I took that path, and by now I have made them such a part of my life that I'm not sure I can give them up, even to save my marriage.

First of all, let me stress that I have never stopped loving Howard. He's a kind, sweet man and I have spent many a sleepless night listening to him snore, knowing that I was betraying him. He was the first and only true love of my life, he's the father of my children and we've made a home together for 31 years. He's supported my career every step of the way, and, honestly, he doesn't deserve this.

But the plain, unassailable truth is that I need more sex than I can get from him. I have always had a very high sex drive, even when we were younger and he was a lot more vigorous. He's always struggled to keep up with me sexually, and now the discrepancy between our respective sexual urges is quite pronounced.

While I am right now at or close to my sexual peak, and have been for several years, he's well on the downslope, and has been for several years. And he just can't satisfy me the way my other lovers can.

Oh, he tries, and I do love him for it. He hasn't given up, and that's to his credit. When we make love, it's nice and I get a lot of affection from being with him. But he can't stay up like he used to, and when he comes, that's it. He's through for the night.

I have now come to need SO much more than what he can give me, more than he could ever give me, and I think that was true even at the start. I need more than just nice, sweet lovemaking for 10 minutes two or three nights a week.

You see, I don't make love with my other partners. No sir. They fuck me. They fuck me hard, they fuck me good, they fuck me long and they make me come, over and over and over. Then they fuck me again. It's just raw animal passion, and they always give me all I can handle and more.

No way Howard can match that. Truth is, sex with Howard hasn't given me an orgasm in over 10 years. Used to, he could at least get me off when he went down on me, but over time even that has failed to light my fuse.

I love my husband, but the lust I once felt for him has pretty much died. Having been taken to the heights of ecstasy, having experienced what truly awesome sex is all about, and having gotten it on a pretty regular basis; I just can't get a charge out of Howard's pedestrian sexual prowess.

If that makes me a bad person – a slut, if you please – then I guess I'm a slut.

Honestly, however, I did not set out to cheat on Howard, and I have tried hard to keep him from being hurt. I don't have any lovers in the city – no workplace romances for me – nor do I mess around with anyone here at home. When I'm home, I belong to Howard, and I truly enjoy being in his company.

But on the road, it's a different story. When I'm traveling on business, I become this sexual creature who can't get enough. I've done things in other cities that would curl the hair of our conservative, suburban friends, if they were to somehow find out.


Like I said, I didn't intend to cheat on Howard, but a potent combination of frustration and temptation made me ripe for the plucking, and Louis Bertelli swiftly and skillfully seduced me not long after I started going on these out-of-town business trips.


Louis is the CEO of one of our company's major suppliers, and he is a powerful, dynamic person. Frankly, he's one of the sexiest men I've ever encountered.

He's tall, probably 6-2, maybe 6-3, and lean, well built, with a dusky complexion and a full head of dark hair with just enough gray to give him a distinguished look. I've never asked him his age, but I'd say he's about my age, maybe a little younger. But he is much, much more virile, and far more aggressive than Howard could ever be, and I believe that's what ultimately attracted me to him.

I think we both knew from the first time that we met what was going to happen. There was just this sexual energy that crackled between us from the moment I first met him.

I had been in my job about four, maybe five months, and his company was my first really big account. Dealings with Louis' underlings had not been going well. I think maybe they thought that because of my relative inexperience, the fact that I was a woman and due to my eagerness to bring in the account, that they could lowball me.

I had some flexibility on how low I could go in order to land the contract, but the numbers they were insisting upon were ridiculously, unacceptably low. I refused to be intimidated, so we seemed to be at an impasse.

The thing is, I knew without a doubt that if we could just reach an agreement that we could do some profitable business. Our respective industries are so compatible and our companies are so much alike that I believed that if we could just agree on a price that everything else would fall into place.

Finally, in frustration, I insisted on a personal meeting with the CEO, hoping he could bring his company around.

To say I was dazzled by Louis' sexual magnetism would be an understatement. I could actually feel myself getting wet just from the way he fixed his dark eyes on me as I first walked into his office.

But I didn't get where I am in the business world by letting my emotions get the best of me, so I quelled my budding arousal and got down to making my presentation.

I have to admit, I dressed for success, wearing a snug business suit with a skirt that didn't quite reach my knees. I gave him just enough of a look at my slender legs to make him sit up and take notice, without being overtly flirtatious. I've always known just how to dress for any occasion, and I'm extremely skilled at skirting that fine line between showing just enough and showing too much.

I made my pitch, and when I was finished, he asked some questions and I gave him some answers. By the tone of his questions, I believed I had made some serious inroads, so I left the prospectus with him for his perusal.

On my way out of his office, he came over and shook my hand warmly, and held the touch just a split-second longer than normal.

"Thank you so much for seeing me today, Mr. Bertelli," I said, with a slight flutter in my voice.

"Please, call me Louis, Miss Gaines," he answered smoothly.

"It's Mrs. Gaines, but please, call me Shelley," I said.

"Shelley, then," he said finally. "We'll be in touch."

That night, I flew back to New York in a horny daze, and when I got home, I practically attacked poor Howard. I woke him up out of a dead sleep by sucking his cock up to full hardness, then I climbed on and rode him like I was some out of control cowgirl.


But he was so tired that he kept losing his erection, until I finally gave up and let him roll over to go back to sleep.

Then I fished out my vibrator and imagined that it was Louis Bertelli's cock. It didn't take me long until I was thrashing on the bed in one of the stronger self-induced orgasms I can ever recall having.

Two weeks went by, during which time I kept trying to tell myself that I was a happily married woman and that I shouldn't be having these wicked fantasies about Louis. I finally told myself that I was acting like a schoolgirl and that a powerful man like Louis Bertelli wouldn't be interested in me.

But the moment my boss came into my office and told me to run home, pack a bag and catch the red-eye for Chicago, my stomach did cartwheels and my pussy lurched in response.

The next day, I met with Louis and his board of directors, and repeated the pitch I'd made two weeks earlier. I also noticed that the bean counters who had treated me with such disdain earlier were now falling over themselves to be solicitous of me.

I knew right then that I had the contract, but we didn't reach an agreement right away. Nevertheless, after the meeting, Louis invited me to lunch, and that's when he really started working his charm.

Honestly, being in his presence was intoxicating. He was a smooth conversationalist, skilled at eliciting information from seemingly casual questions, and I was dazzled by his sexiness.

By the time we left the restaurant and I got in my taxi for the trip to the airport, he knew just about everything about me that he needed to know.

About three weeks later, I flew back to Chicago for the purpose of nailing down all of the loose details and getting Louis to sign on the dotted line. I was there for the better part of a week, and after the third day, we had an agreement.

To celebrate, Louis and I had dinner at my hotel, and it was quite apparent by then that we were on a fast track to seduction. Dinner lasted quite a long time, and I had several glasses of wine, so I was feeling very mellow, very sexual.

Finally, Louis sat back in his chair and fixed me with an even gaze. I felt a lustful shiver run through my body from the way he looked at me.

"Tell me, Shelley, are you really happily married?" he said. I hesitated before I answered, and I think that's when he knew he had me.

"Y-yes," I said slowly. "Yes I am. I love Howard and we've been together a long time."

"But you're not satisfied, are you," he said pointedly. I just stared at him, because I had never revealed the inner workings of my sex life with Howard.

"How do you know that?" I asked, then quickly wished I could have taken the question back.


Too Great a Temptation Ch. 01



"I can see it on your face, in your body language," he said softly. "You love your husband, but he's not fulfilling your needs. He's not giving you what, deep down inside, you know you want, what you know you need."

"And what do I need?" I said in an equally soft voice.

"You need a man who can match your sensuality, someone who can bring out your sexual beast, someone who can make you come, and make you come again and again," he said. "Be honest with yourself. Howard's not that man, is he."

"Howard's a good, decent man, and we're quite happy together," I said, trying to work up some righteous indignation, but failing miserably.

"I don't doubt that for a moment," Louis said. "But you're not happy with your sex life, are you? How long has it been, Shelley, since you really and truly had great sex with Howard? How long has it been since he made you come?"

"Louis, what are you saying?" I asked. I wanted him to be direct. "Are you saying that you can do what Howard can't?"

"Me, or someone like me," he said. "Face it, Shelley. You want me, and I want you. You want the kind of sex that drives you beyond the boundaries of passion, and you're not getting it at home. I can take you there, but only if you're willing to go. You are one of the sexiest, most beautiful women I've ever come across, and I've had a few. And I want very much to please you, to give you the kind of passion you deserve."

It was true. I wanted him, wanted the kind of sex I had always dreamed about, but hadn't gotten in a very long time. But I wasn't ready to pull the trigger, wasn't quite ready to cheat on my husband.

"Louis," I said finally, after we had stared at each other for long, pregnant seconds. "You're a handsome man, one of the sexiest men I've ever met. I have no doubt that you can give me what you say I need. But I'm married to a good man that I love, and I'm just not ready to cheat on him."

I'll give Louis credit, he let the matter drop right then, as we ordered dessert. But as I was standing on the street with him, waiting for the valet to bring his car around, he pulled me to him and kissed me. And, God help me, I responded, kissing him back with a great deal of enthusiasm.

"When the time is right, and you're ready, you'll know," he said softly, after we broke our embrace. "I'll see you tomorrow. You get plenty of rest. You have a big day ahead of you."

Louis and I played it cool the rest of that trip, since the top brass from my company flew over the next day to sign the contract. It was my first big success, and I was the star of the company for the moment.

As autumn descended, I found myself wrestling with my conscience. I was battling, really, between my loyalty to Howard and my desire for Louis. I made two more trips to Chicago before I finally succumbed to the temptation and accepted the sexual smorgasbord Louis was offering me.

Both times I was in Chicago, I went out with Louis on more than one occasion. He took me to a play, to a late-night dinner at one of the city's most exclusive restaurants, and we went to several nightclubs, including one where we danced until the wee hours of the morning. Howard isn't much on dancing, so I had the time of my life.

And not once did Louis try anything sexual toward me, although when we danced, our bodies were molded as one, and I could feel his hardness poking into my abdomen, and I'm sure he could feel my rock-hard nipples. My resistance was crumbling, and he knew it.

Finally, in November, I was told I would be going to Chicago for four days to consult with Louis' company on implementing details in the contract, and I knew in my gut that this was it.

The night before I left, I enticed Howard into bed early, hoping against hope that he would do something that would light my passion and make me forget about Louis.

Howard was very attentive that night, very loving, but in the end it was the same old, same old. He came way before I was anywhere close to a climax, then rolled over and fell asleep. Like always.

As he snored in blissful ignorance, I actually held him in my arms and cried, because I knew that when I came back from this trip, I would be a changed woman. I would be an adulteress.

When I got to Chicago, though, my course was set, and it was unbelievable. I thought I was ready for some good sex, but nothing could have prepared me for what I experienced that first night with Louis.

I arrived that morning, and was driven straight to Louis' building. Of course, he met me, and I think he could tell that the time had come. We took care of some business for several hours, then we adjourned fairly early in the afternoon.

On our way out of the conference room, I made it a point to catch up to Louis. I looked him straight in the eye.

"How would you like to meet me for dinner at my hotel?" I asked. "Say about 7 o'clock?"

He just arched his eyebrows at the time, for it was considerably earlier than our usual dates, and it was the first time that I had initiated an evening together.

"Seven o'clock it is," he said, and shook my hand, but then held it for a long second. "You're sure?"

"Absolutely," I answered, eager to be on my way. My pussy was drooling, my clit was throbbing and my heart was pounding at the prospect of sex with Louis. He would be the first man in my life other than Howard to fuck me, and now that I had set my course, I couldn't wait.

On my way back to the hotel, I stopped at a boutique and bought a dress that had caught my eye earlier that day, a short, sexy number that left very little to the imagination.

I went back to my room and drew a bath, and while I was in the warm water, I took a disposable razor and a pair of scissors and severely trimmed back my pubic bush. I usually keep it pretty trim anyway, so there was nothing out of the ordinary about the way it looked.

When I was finished, I slipped on the dress, a pair of thigh-highs and my high heels. I wore nothing else. I wanted there to be no mistaking my intentions when I met Louis that evening.

I did my makeup in exquisite detail, methodically brushed my shoulder-length blonde hair, then called up to room service for a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice and two glasses.

After the champagne had been delivered, I stopped for a moment in front of the mirror and looked deep into my own eyes. The expression on my face was a little inscrutable. There was excitement, apprehension, some guilt and a little sadness. I was about to willingly break my marriage vows, and my emotions were in turmoil.

Then I sighed heavily, took a deep breath and walked out to face the future.

I could feel the stares of every man I encountered on my way to the hotel bar, where I was to meet Louis. Somehow, this gave me a thrill, to know that I could have that effect on men. It was – and remains – an intoxicating feeling to have strange men lust after me, and I believe it's one of the factors that has driven me in my adultery.

Louis was already in the bar when I arrived, and his eyes sparkled as he swept his gaze up and down my body. We embraced, and we kissed, long and slow, with lots of tongue. I couldn't remember ever being that horny.

After a glass of wine, we went to dinner, and I ate light. Truthfully, I was so nervous, I couldn't have eaten much anyway. While we sat at the secluded corner booth, I finally set about learning a little bit about Louis Bertelli.

He had grown up on the North Side, not far from Wrigley Field. His father had founded the company, and Louis had started as a teenager in the mailroom. By the time his father had retired, he had worked at every level in the company, learning the business inside and out.

Along the way, he had been married and divorced twice. He explained candidly that monogamy wasn't for him, that if he saw a woman he liked, he invariably pursued her, and he always had several girlfriends.

Nevertheless, he was still on good terms with his ex-wives, who had been generously dealt with, and he was fairly active in the lives of his children, two sons by his first wife and a daughter by his second.

Finally, dinner was finished, and there wasn't much left to say. We were sitting next to each other, and my hand fell onto Louis' thigh. My fingers just brushed the subtle outline of his cock, as we just sort of melded together and kissed.

I lost myself in his lips and tongue, and I felt his hands slide around my back, which was naked save for the straps that held my dress tightly across my unfettered breasts. My eyes were dewy when we broke our embrace.

"Would you like to come up to my room for a nightcap?" I whispered.

"Of course, my dear," he answered softly. 

Just the way he talked and the way he looked at me made my pussy gush. Right there under the tablecloth, he slid a hand up my thigh to the hot delta between my legs. His fingers brushed my labia and caressed my clit, which was standing fat and tall.

I groaned when he penetrated me with his middle finger, as he kissed me again, and my hips lurched forward, trying to capture as much of his invading digit as possible.

"You are so hot," he whispered, panting as we broke again. "Let me show you what I can do for you."

I barely remember signing the check, hardly recall walking arm-in-arm with Louis to my room. It wasn't until we closed the door and came together in a passionate embrace that my focus returned. I molded my body to his, almost dry-humping my soon-to-be lover.

I could feel the hardness of his cock, and I cooed in response. I wanted him right then worse than I'd wanted anything in my whole life.

At length, we broke apart again, and that's when he discovered the bucket of ice, with the champagne bottle chilling.

Louis sauntered over to the desk where I had set the bucket containing the bottle. He stopped momentarily to pull off his jacket, which he draped over a chair, and to pull off his tie. He looked and acted like he owned the place, which, I guess, he did.

Then he skillfully opened the bottle and filled the two glasses with the sparkling elixir. We toasted each other, and I downed my glass pretty much in one huge gulp, while he took several sips of his glass before setting it down and pulling me to him.

Again we kissed, but this time our hands were busy. He quickly loosened the straps of my dress and it fell to the floor, revealing my nakedness to his gaze, while I unbuttoned and pulled off his shirt, then unhooked his belt and let his slacks fall.

I think we both gasped at our first sight of each other in an almost-naked condition. I could hear an audible intake of breath as he drank in my body.

I'm not bragging when I say that I have a splendid body. I work hard to keep myself trim and fit, and there isn't an ounce of excess anywhere on me. I have slender, dancer's legs; a round, shapely ass and my tits are just full enough to be enticing without being floppy.

Yes, it's a nice body, and it has been my ticket into a world of hardcore sex that I could have only imagined just a few years ago.

But I have to say that Louis' body was every bit as enticing as any fantasy I could have had. His chest was well defined, with a dark carpet of hair that gave him a tremendously manly look. He had a butt to die for, and powerful legs.

And between those legs, sprouting from the hole in his boxer shorts, was a beautiful, well-sculpted cock. Until that moment, I had only laid eyes on one hard dick other than Howard's, and that was when I was a teenager and accidentally walked in the bathroom one time when my older brother was jacking off.

My brother Richie wasn't nearly as big as either Howard or Louis, and Louis had Howard beaten in the girth department.

"This is what you do to me," Louis whispered as he slid his underwear to the floor.

I had to touch it, had to play with it, had to feel its pulsing power. I stroked Louis' meat softly, slowly, while he filled his hands with my tits, and rolled my nipples between his fingers. You could have cut glass with my nipples, that's how hard they were.

But better was in store, for he slid a hand between my legs and softly massaged my pussy, slipping his fingers between my bubbling labia and curling his thumb around my obscenely bloated clit.

I gasped and groaned in pleasure as I surrendered to this man. Gone was any feeling of guilt or sadness. I wanted to wallow in my wickedness, to revel in my sin. I was climbing higher and higher as he kissed me hard while he fingered my cunt.

Before I could cum, though, he backed away. He drained his glass of champagne then bent down to remove his socks, which were all he had left on. He poured me another glass and I gulped it down just like the first. I knew the heady liquor would go to my head, but that's what I wanted.

"Lie back on the bed," Louis said. "I want to make you come."

I didn't need any more urging. I pulled the covers back and lay on my back, my legs spread lewdly. I still had on my stockings and my heels, and I thought that gave me just the right touch of sluttiness. I slid my fingers through my naked lips, opening myself for him.

"Fuck me, Louis," I panted. "I need it."

"All in good time," he said with a mirthful expression. "But first, I promised you an orgasm, and this is one you're never going to forget. Here, I think you need cooling off."

He took the champagne bottle from the bucket and slowly poured some of the liquid over my steaming-hot cunt. As the tiny bubbles fizzled over my slit, I lurched upward like I'd been shot and sizzling rays of pleasure raced through my body.

When he had covered my whole crotch with the champagne, he quickly set the bottle down and attacked my pussy with his mouth, and I do mean attacked.

His lips, tongue and fingers were everywhere, and I felt myself descending into sexual nirvana. In his prime, Howard was a pretty good cunt-licker, but he was an amateur compared to Louis.

Louis was able to work his tongue into my cunt and actually reamed out my walls with it. He pursed his lips around my throbbing clit and lashed it with a rapid succession of lizard-like strokes. He sucked my whole pussy into his mouth and buried his face in it like he was giving me CPR.

But whenever I got right on the brink of an orgasm, he backed away and slowed his pace. He did this at least a half-dozen times, until I was writhing on the bed in sweat-soaked agony. My mind was a smoking crater as I kept climbing the ladder toward a mind-numbing climax, only to be brought back down to earth.

My hands clutched his head and gripped his hair as he worked me into a frenzy with his mouth, and finally, I could feel it rumbling in the pit of my stomach, a monster orgasm the likes of which I'd never before experienced. My whole body went into convulsions as he lapped furiously at my clit.

Then I cried out sharply and loudly as the thing exploded in me like a cannon shot. I tossed, I twitched, I gasped, I groaned as I gripped Louis' head between my legs in something almost like a death grip. For several minutes this went on until finally it subsided and I slowly came back to near-reality.

I say near-reality, because I seemed to be floating on a gossamer cloud of ecstasy. I opened my lust-lidded eyes to find Louis looking at me very intently. He was on his knees, his throbbing-hard cock waving in front of him.

I didn't hesitate, but reopened my legs and begged for him to stick that fat fucker in my juicy hole. He knelt between my outstretched legs, holding his cock firmly at the base. He slid the head between my drooling lips several times, sort of priming the pump, I guess, then he very, very slowly pushed the head of his cock past my opening.

Louis wasn't that much longer than my husband, who has a very nice cock in the 7-inch range. But Louis is considerably fatter, and when he slowly inched his cock up my flooded canal, it did things to me that I'd never had done in what was then 24 years of marriage.

When I finally felt Louis's wiry pubic hairs on my hairless clit and his heavy, cum-laden balls slap my ass, I was quickly back on track for another mind-blowing climax.

As he pulled back and began to fuck me with slow, steady strokes, I wrapped my legs around his waist and worked my hips in rhythm with his inward thrusts. My body was shaking and shimmying as we worked as one, his cock smoothly pumping in my spastic cunt.


Almost before I realized it, I felt the powerful sizzle of an explosive orgasm, and that one seemed to segue right into another one, and that one into another one. I seemed to be on some incredible plateau of pleasure as I lost myself to passion.

And the whole time, Louis just kept methodically working his dick in my sloppy slot. As I writhed wildly under him, he varied his angle of thrust and the speed of his attack. For a minute or two, he would fuck me madly, furiously, then he would pull up and come to an almost complete stop before resuming at a smoldering pace.

The man's control was phenomenal as he worked me through an endless succession of orgasms. But, finally, I could feel his control starting to crack. The giveaway was several drops of sweat that hit my chest from off his nose.

The whole time, I had been giving out these unintelligible fuck sounds, gasps, groans, cries of ecstasy, keening wails of passion. Now, however, we kicked it into higher gear, as I finally found my voice.

"COME ON, BABY, GIVE IT TO ME!" I screamed, not caring who heard me. "FUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKK MEEEEEEEE! OH YEAH, FUCK ME HARDER, HARDER, HARDER!"

And, man, did he. With a growl, he picked up my legs, so that I was bent almost double, and pounded my pussy like a jackhammer. I howled like an animal as I exploded in yet another series of explosive orgasms from the power of his incredible fucking.

I could feel him quickening as he pulled himself up on his knees to drive his cock even deeper in my spasming cunt. I heard him grunt loudly, then I felt his cock swell unbelievably a split second before he came in an absolute fountain of semen.

He shot what seemed like a bucket of cum in my twitching pussy, and I used my experienced cunt muscles to milk him of everything he had. We thrashed on the bed as the climax washed over us and he filled my cunt to overflowing with his seed.

At long last, we seemed to slowly wither together as our sated bodies finally relaxed. As we slumped on the bed, locked in the post-coital afterglow, I knew that I had been taken past a threshold of lust and that I would never be the same.

Incredibly, after a short rest, I could feel Louis' cock stiffening again, and this time, it was my turn to give him what he'd given me.

I rolled him on his back, slid my tousled, sweaty body between his legs and hefted his cock in my hands. The smell of our commingled lust, my arousal and his sperm, just about drove me crazy. I licked up and down the shaft, and was gratified to feel him stiffen in my hands.

When I had him at full roar, I gave him a mischievous grin, then grabbed the champagne bottle off the dresser. I poured a liberal coating over his cock, letting him get a good tingle from the bubbles while I tipped the bottle to my lips and sucked down a generous swallow of the liquid.

Then I put the bottle down and engulfed his cock in my mouth – or at least as much as I could take. I sucked about two-thirds of his cock into my mouth before I couldn't take any more. I swirled my lips around his girth, rolling my tongue around his shaft as I worked my head up and down.

I would have been content to suck his cum from his cock, but he pulled my head away and just stared at me in wordless communication. I felt my pussy gush and I knew what he wanted, what we both wanted.

Holding his cock up by the base, I straddled his hips, fit the fat head of his cock to my red, swollen pussy and slowly eased myself onto his pole.




Too Great a Temptation Ch. 01



Slowly, up and down, up and down, I rode Louis' cock for what seemed like forever. This was so much more sensual than anything I had ever experienced, and once again, his control was unbelievable.

As I worked up and down on him, he reached up and fondled my tits, brought them to his mouth and sucked the nipples. Then he pulled me to him and we shared a slow, sizzling kiss. His hands softly kneaded my butt as he worked me just so on his cock.

My orgasm this time was like a slow release, it just kept building and building, until we were bucking on the bed like a rodeo. Again, I exhorted him loudly to fill up my hungry cunt, and as I fell over the cliff in a full-body shudder, that's what he did.

My body twitched and hummed as the climax floated through me while he basted my already-flooded pussy with his creamy cum.

Finally, I slumped onto his chest, utterly, delightfully spent. He rolled me off of him, and we lay there silently, each lost in our thoughts until we gently drifted off to sleep.

That night was by far the best sex I had ever had up to that point in my life, and it's really not Howard's fault. He is what he is, and I love him for what he is.

But I knew as I lay on those sweat-soaked sheets with Louis Bertelli that I had been taken far beyond where I thought I could go sexually with Howard, and I also sensed that this was just the beginning...

To be continued



Too Great a Temptation Ch. 02



Howard's story

The rain had mostly quit when I set the first of Shelley's logbooks aside and tried to compose myself.

I was shocked at what she had done, shocked, hurt and angry. How could she do this to me, to us? How could I have not suspected anything? Was she that good at deception or was I just willfully blind and blissfully ignorant?

I was completely flummoxed, because I had no idea any of this was going on. At home, Shelley was as loving and attentive as she'd always been, and I'd thought we still had a good sex life for two people of our age.

Actually, I should back up. At that point, I still had no idea of how bad it was. I had only gotten through the first year of her business travels, and there were still six more books to go through.

As of the end of 1998, she had only just been seduced by this Louis Bertelli. I was quickly to learn that he was only the first.

I also struggled to make sense of why she had done this. I don't think it was to spite me. I hadn't done anything to her that would merit that kind of response, and she had never acted angrily, bitterly or sarcastic toward me.

The logs were no help in that regard. They were almost clinical in their brevity. A typical entry usually went something like this:

"Date, place. Met w/So-and-so 3hrs on contract. Had dinner w/So-and-so at hotel, had steak w/wine. Talked about baseball. Went to room and he fucked me 3 times, at least 8 orgasms. Wow!"

That was it. No descriptions, no explanations.

But if the logs gave me no clue as to why Shelley was cheating on me, they told me in breathtaking clarity that whatever I was doing for her sexually wasn't nearly enough.

I was beginning to get a glimmer of understanding that my wife had a far deeper sexual urge than I had ever imagined, and that she got from her lovers what she wasn't getting from me. I needed answers, and I thought maybe the rest of her logbooks might provide some clues.

They didn't, but they did give me a very clear picture of just how far Shelley had gone in pursuit of whatever sexual urges were driving her. It was a lot further than I could have EVER imagined.

Working on the basement was forgotten. I gathered up the logbooks, walked upstairs and started reading about how my wife of 31 years had been betraying me on a regular basis for the past seven years. It was painful reading, but over the next three days, I forced myself to wade through them all.

I began again with the logbook from 1999, and any hope that her fling with Louis Bertelli might have been a one-time thing was dashed right from the start. A trip to Chicago the first week in January confirmed that.

There were a couple of other rendezvous with him in Chicago, then another name began to appear quite regularly, a man named Darrell Poston, who was a client of Shelley's in Washington, D.C.

It was the same as before only much, much quicker - a couple of meetings in his office, a lunch date, then a visit to her hotel room.

There were a couple of things about Darrell Poston that made me pause, however.

For one, he was black, which isn't necessarily bad in itself; I just never thought Shelley would be attracted to a black man.

For another, some of the things he and Shelley have done together are positively outrageous...

Shelley's story

They say that once a spouse cheats on their partner that it becomes easier and less painful.

That is certainly true in my case. Once I crossed the threshold with Louis and cheated on Howard, it was ridiculously easy for me to do it with someone else, in some other town.

Before I did, I forced myself to do some soul searching. I do have a conscience, even though it hasn't always seemed like it. But I knew in my gut that I needed to set some ground rules for myself, some parameters with which to work.

The big thing was, I knew I still loved Howard, no matter what, and I wanted to maintain my marriage, both for his sake and that of the boys.

I thought I could have the best of both worlds, a stable, loving marriage at home and a wild, uninhibited sex life on the road. I know, I was rationalizing and I was being stupefyingly selfish, but that's how my thought processes were working at the time. I didn't want to just throw myself at any man who came along, for several reasons, mostly to do with health and safety, and I didn't really want to throw any of my actions in Howard's face. Like I've said, he's a kind man and the only man I've ever truly loved.

I believed I could compartmentalize my life to the extent that I could love Howard at home, but cheat on him when I traveled. It was a fool's game, and I got away with it for a long time. But lately, it's started falling apart on me, and now I have to face the music.

At any rate, I was no bar pickup girl, and I have tried to be selective in my partners, or at least I was initially. Lately, some things have happened that have made me think I'm losing control of my situation, so perhaps getting caught was a blessing in disguise.

But I'll get to that some other time.

I said the last time that there were several reasons why I started doing this, and why I have kept on for so long. And one of those reasons was the ability to live out some of my long-standing fantasies.

And I've encountered some partners in the course of my travels who have been very willing to help me act out my deepest, darkest desires.

As I became more comfortable in my job, and as I became better at it, I started getting some of the company's bigger accounts. I'm good at my job, and the company values my effort.

One of these big accounts that came my way was a big contract that we have with the Army. It's one of our most profitable accounts - your tax dollars at work - and it requires at lot of attention.

We have a regular liaison with a mid-level bureaucrat in the Secretary of the Army's office that we deal with, and there is also a congressional committee that we periodically report to.

When I first got the account, our liaison at the Department of the Army was a Mr. Crisler, a 50ish gentleman who didn't do the least bit for me.

But in March 1999, I learned that Crisler had retired and was to be replaced by an ex-paratrooper named Darrell Poston. The moment I laid eyes on Darrell Poston, in his office at the Pentagon, I knew immediately that I was going to have him for a lover.

For one thing, he is the most gorgeous black man I've ever seen, with penetrating eyes, perfect white teeth, smooth-shaved head and a body that looks like it was chiseled out of black marble. He's not terribly big, about 5-foot-10, but he covers that frame with 200 pounds of rock-solid muscle.

For another thing, I have secretly fantasized about sex with a black man since I was a teenager. Until Louis Bertelli, the closest I ever came to stepping out on Howard was during my senior year of high school, before we got married.

That year, a boy named Eddie Gordon transferred to our school, and he was hot stuff. He was a football player, a split end, with fast moves, soulful good looks and he was rumored to be hung like a horse.

We sat next to each other in English class, and he made my pussy weep every time he looked at me. It didn't take him long to start coming on to me, and I was sorely tempted.

Howard was off at college during the week and on some weekends, and by then I had developed an itch in my pussy that needed constant attention. I would lie in my bed at night, stroke my pussy imagining Eddie's big black cock and I would always come like a rocket.

Who knows what would have happened if I had accepted Eddie's come-on, and let him fuck me? But I chickened out, then Eddie couldn't make the grades that semester and moved to another school.

It's probably just as well. Even for our liberal suburban community in Connecticut, where we grew up, the idea of blacks fucking blondes was frowned upon.

I think if he'd stayed, though, I probably wouldn't have been able to resist him indefinitely, given what I now know about my inability to say no to real temptation.

Lastly, and most importantly, Darrell Poston has one of the most commanding personalities I've ever encountered. He spent 20 years on active duty before retiring from the Army and taking over his civilian position.

In the course of his military career, he rose to the rank of captain, and he sure assumed command of me right from the start. I am not exaggerating when I say that when I'm in D.C., Darrell Poston can get me to do anything he wants, any time he wants, anywhere he wants.

I was speechless when I first walked into his office and got a good look at him, and his first words to me were telling.

"Well, Crisler said you were a hot number, but I think he understated the case," Darrell said in an authoritative baritone voice. "The things I could do..."

I just stared at him for what seemed like minutes, then I kind of shook myself out of my reverie and we exchanged introductions.

Unlike Louis, who took some time to seduce me, Darrell didn't waste any time. The third meeting we had, he ended up in my hotel room that evening fucking my brains out.

I somehow managed to keep from ripping his clothes off in his office that first time we met, simply because I just couldn't see myself letting a man I'd just met fuck me.

The only reason we didn't do it the second time was because we didn't have any time alone together, except for lunch, which wasn't enough time. We had to meet with the committee, then I had to fly back to New York that night. But the third time, in May, was the charm. Our lunch date the time before had made it clear to both of us that he could have me any time he wanted.

He had spent the whole time staring at my rock-hard nipples, which were clearly visible through my bra and my blouse, and I couldn't help gazing at the healthy bulge in his slacks whenever he stood up.

So, we were sitting in his office that May afternoon, and we were going over a sticking point in the business we were discussing. Suddenly, he put down the document and fixed me with a steady, even stare.

I had been having a hard enough time controlling my arousal as it was, but when he looked at me like that, my pussy just melted.

"You know what would make this go a lot smoother?" he asked as a sly grin creased his face.

"What's that?" I answered.

"A blowjob," he replied.

"Hmmmm," I said, as I stood up and walked over to where he was sitting.

I leaned over, so that he could look down the front of my dress, at my tits, which were covered only by a fairly thin bra. I laid my hand right on his cloth-covered cock, and felt it leap at my touch.

"That's probably not a very good idea," I whispered in a voice thick with lust. "But if you come to Room 1517 at the Airport Hilton around 8 o'clock, I'll do anything you want."

It's a good thing I was serious, because I quickly learned that Darrell is a man with a voracious and varied appetite for sex of every sort.

Like I did with Louis, I took a relaxing bath and had a light dinner from room service, a salad and a small bottle of wine. I did my makeup, dabbed some perfume in strategic places, brushed my hair and slipped on a clingy satin robe. It wasn't see-through, but the way it molded to my body left no doubt about what I didn't have on underneath it.

A couple of minutes before 8 o'clock, I happened to look down at my hand, at my wedding ring. A momentary pang of guilt hit me then, but I did the only thing a dedicated adulteress can do in a situation like that. I slipped the ring off my finger and stashed it away in my purse.

From that night on, that would always be the last thing I'd do before I met one of my lovers. It was symbolic for me, in that during those moments, I didn't consider myself married. I know it's hollow comfort, but that was one way I coped with what I was doing.

Promptly at 8 o'clock, Darrell knocked on the door and I let him in for what would be a life-changing night of lust.

"I like a man who's on time for a hot date," I said, with more jocularity than I really felt.

"Man would be a fool to keep a lady like you waiting," Darrell said. "But then you're not really a lady, are you."

"More like a tramp," I said as our bodies merged and we kissed, hot and hard.

And I will be candid about that. I've acted like a tramp these past seven years, and while I'd rather some things hadn't happened the way they did, overall, I can't say that I regret most of what I've done.

Darrell's iron body seemed to envelop me as he kissed me and ran his long tongue in my mouth. I gasped in pleasure as he kissed and licked down my jawline, down my neck and up to my ears, as his hands wandered over my body.

Then he pulled back slightly, and swiftly undid my robe, letting it fall to the floor in a black satin puddle. He ran his hands all over my skin as my arousal soared. The only part of me he didn't touch was the place where I wanted him most - right between my legs.

He slid his hands over my tits, down my back to my butt, over my thighs and around to my arms, then back around to squeeze and suck my nipples.

"You look like you stay in pretty good shape," he said in a low voice. "That's a good thing, because I'm gonna wear you out."

A shiver rippled through my body as he said that, and I pulled his tight T-shirt off, cast it aside and reciprocated, running my soft hands all over his rippled chest, circling his hard nipples with my nails.

Darrell pulled off his shoes, then cupped the crotch of his snug slacks with his hands as if to say, "come and get it," and I went and got it.

I dropped to my knees, unbuckled his belt, undid his pants, pulled them down and was confronted with the most perfect slab of male meat in the universe. It's about 9 inches long (I know because I've measured it), and just the right girth, which is to say it's a little bit fatter than Louis.

I was almost tempted to imitate Lily von Stuppe in "Blazing Saddles" (it's twue! it's twue!), but I resisted. Somehow, I didn't think Darrell would be amused.

And besides, all I wanted to do right then was to slide that glorious cock into my mouth, to worship it in the manner that it deserved.

As Darrell stepped out of his slacks and stood there naked, I grabbed his dong with both hands and began to lick it up and down, covering it with my saliva, before slipping the fat head past my lips.

I hummed in mounting passion as I fed his black snake into my mouth. I took a little over half of it into my throat before I started gagging on it, so I pulled back and began to suck that dick like it was my last meal.

I sucked and slobbered all over his cock, pulled it out of my mouth, sawed it between my lips and over my tongue, then stuffed it back into my mouth.

I could feel my pussy flowing like a river, that's how turned on I was. I reached down with one hand and found my clit was absolutely swollen. I lifted myself up slightly, spread my legs and attacked my cunt with my hand in rhythm to my mouth on Darrell's cock.

I felt his big hands around the back of my head, working me on his cock, driving a little more into my throat with each push.

Suddenly, I felt a long-overdue orgasm rush through me like a flooded river. I shook and shimmied on my juice-covered hand, and I had to rip his cock from my mouth and gasp out loudly at the intensity of my climax.

"You've never had a black man before, have you," Darrell said as he pulled me up on my shaky legs when I had finished.

"No," I said weakly. "No, but I've wanted to for an awful long time. And I wanted to fuck you the moment I laid eyes on you. Please, Darrell, fuck me. Show me what a man like you can do. Fuck me and make me sing. I meant what I said. I'll do anything you want, just fuck me." He just chuckled as he maneuvered me onto the bed, but instead of getting me on my back, he insisted that I get on my hands and knees. That was the first hint as to what he wanted.

My ass was waving in the air as he knelt behind me, then I felt his hot breath on my pussy and I groaned in ecstasy. He licked and kissed his way up and down my sloppy slit, then stabbed at my clit with his tongue.

Then he slashed his way back up my cunt, but instead of stopping and working his way back down, he kept right on going, spreading my butt cheeks and spearing my asshole, then licking all around the pink starfish.

I turned around sharply and just stared at Darrell, and he looked up at me with a bemused expression, then returned to his work, alternating kisses and licks on my super-heated cunt and my now-wet asshole.

I had another inkling right then of what he was all about, and I wasn't sure of my feelings. It wasn't that I was against anal sex. I've always known it was a terrific erogenous zone, and I had frequently penetrated my puckered hole lightly with a finger whenever I masturbated.

But Howard had never fucked me there. We'd tried it a few times early in our marriage, and he just couldn't seem to get his dick in the hole. He'd always slip into my pussy, and once he was there, he was reluctant to pull out and keep trying.

And, truthfully, I had the thought that a finger was one thing, but a cock was something else entirely. I was worried about it hurting me, and that was with Howard's more modest size. I was real apprehensive at the thought of Darrell's huge cock fucking my ass.

But I didn't have to worry about that right then. After getting a good taste of my thoroughly drenched crotch, he got up on his knees and aimed the head of his cock to my burning fuckhole.

I gasped and squealed as he pushed the head of his cock into my pussy and thrust his whole length into me in one glorious rush.

I howled as I felt myself being filled deeper and fuller with man meat than I'd ever been filled before in my life. In seconds, he was working his big black cock in my twitching cunt at a brisk, but measured pace.

I worked my hips back to get as much of his pleasure pole as I could, and as I did, I felt another screaming orgasm come to a head. My head was lolling as the climax washed through me, and that was when he really started to work on my ass.

He took two fingers and got them liberally coated with the creamy froth of our coupling and worked them around the outside of my anus. Again, I turned my head around and looked at him with some concern.

"You're... not thinking... of fucking... me there... are you?" I panted as he continued to fuck me with steady strokes.

"Never had a cock back there before, huh?" he asked in a steady voice that belied the intensity of the way his cock was working in my cunt. "Whatsa matter? Hubby can't get it in there? Well, let me tell you. I'll take it nice and slow, but it's going in the back door, and you're gonna love it."

With that, he eased those two fingers past my sphincter and slowly began to finger-fuck my ass in time to his steady strokes in my cunt.

Even more than Louis, Darrell has fantastic control, and he wasn't nearly ready to come that first night. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he wasn't going to finish until he'd gotten what he wanted.

I still wasn't sure if he'd be able to get his massive cock in my ass without hurting me, but I willed myself to relax.

Lo and behold, it didn't take any time before Darrell's fingers began to feel really good in my ass. I could feel sparks of lust from the feeling of his fingers working in my rectum at the same time that his cock was plunging deep in my cunt.

As another sharp orgasm began to pick up steam, I surrendered quite willfully to the feeling and begged Darrell to, "fuck my ass with your big black cock! Give me all you've got! I'm ready for it!"

He just snorted as he eased his cock from my dripping pussy. I felt so empty as he evacuated my cunt. Moving up slightly, he pressed the bulbous head of his cock to my anus and slowly pushed forward.




Too Great a Temptation Ch. 02



The pressure was intense until, suddenly, the head of his dick penetrated my sphincter.

"AYYYYYY! GOD!" I wailed in a combination of pain and pleasure.

But Darrell was as good as his word. He just held the head of his cock inside my rectum, until I had time to adjust to his size, and he told me softly to just relax and let it flow.

And once I got over the initial pain of insertion, I began to feel this unholy glow emanating from my butt. As he began to slowly push more of his cock into my backside, something seemed to shatter in my psyche, and my arousal took off like a missile.

I was writhing and trembling on the bed, and clutching the sheet as he fed more of his magnificent cock into my ass. I was panting, gasping and moaning incoherently as I slowly melted my ass onto his burning spear.

Suddenly, I just snapped, and with a huge gasp, I hurled my ass backward, impaling the rest of my butt on his cock. And then I went absolutely berserk.

I worked my ass back and forth in a frenzy as Darrell's cock filled me in a way that I had never been filled before. My whole body went into overdrive as an explosive orgasm crashed through me.

I shuddered and shook, screamed and shouted as Darrell smoothly cored my ass with long, hard thrusts, his hands kneading my butt cheeks.

I was out of my mind with lust as he began to pick up steam, his cool finally starting to crack.

"Oh yeah, you like my big black cock in your ass don't you, baby," he cooed in a low voice that betrayed just the barest hint of strain. "You love it."

"UNNNNHHHHHH! Y-Y-YEAAAAAAAH!" I screamed. "I LOVE IT! FUCK MY ASS, BABY! FUCK IT GOOOOOOD! OHHHHHHHHH!"

Suddenly, Darrell ripped his cock completely out of my ass, flipped me onto my back, hefted my legs high into the air and rammed his way back into my still-gaping hole.

I howled and saw stars as he fucked my ass at a vicious pace. He leaned in onto my straining thighs and we kissed ravenously, wildly, our bodies churning as one. My orgasmic flow seemed to be coming at a steady pace, one right after the other.

Darrell was blistering my ass with jackhammer strokes, and I wanted everything he could give me. I was in sheer delirium as I worked my hips around his huge dick.

I could see his eyes squeeze shut as he pulled himself onto his knees, and I knew he was close.

"C-c-cummmmmm, baby!" I panted. "Shoot that hot stuff in my horny ass. C'mon, Darrell, fill... me... up..."

And, man, did he ever. With a loud grunt, he thrust forward deeper than ever, and his whole body tensed up seconds before he exploded in a gusher of cum. We were like a live wire as he filled my bowels with a succession of hot, creamy bolts of semen.

He must have been storing it up for awhile, because it was thick and copious, flowing out of my distended ass from around his pistoning joystick.

Finally, he slumped forward; his cock still embedded in my ass. I laughed dementedly as I finally came back to earth from a most incredible series of orgasms.

Darrell stayed with me for another three hours that night, before leaving me a shattered, sweat-covered, cum-filled wreck.

We got up and took a shower, and I sucked his cock until he exploded in my mouth, filling me with his tangy cum. Then we laid on the bed until he got up yet another hard-on, at which point he positioned me on my back and fucked me for a solid hour before filling my pussy with cum.

When he left that night, he had me eating out of his hand, with the capability of doing anything to me that he wanted, and it's been that way ever since.

And, let me tell you, he's fucked me everywhere in a variety of locations. I've sucked him off in his office, fucked him in the front seat of his car while it was sitting in a parking garage, and let him fuck my ass in the men's room of a suburban shopping mall.

But without a doubt the wildest thing we ever did happened a little over a year after we met.

It was the summer of 2000, at the tail end of a typically hot, sweltering day. Dusk was beginning to settle, and we were taking a walk along the Tidal Basin, not far from the Jefferson Memorial.

We'd completed a long day of negotiations, including a fairly contentious visit with the chairman of the congressional committee that oversaw our contract.

With it being an election year, and with everything pointing to the outcome being a toss-up, both in the presidential race and in the battle for control of Congress, everyone was on edge. So the chairman of the committee was parsing numbers in a way he'd never done before, and it had been a little nerve-wracking.

So when Darrell said he had a little "treat" for me as a way of blowing off steam, and for me to dress "appropriately," I was ready for a mind-blowing experience.

I had learned very quickly that when I was with Darrell, the less I wore, the better. Whenever I went to Washington, I never packed panties, unless I happened to be on my period. And once our work was finished and it was time to play, my bras stayed in the suitcase.

On this occasion, I was wearing a vivid red dress that fell just short of my knees, with thin straps at the top that allowed me to show a healthy amount of my cleavage, matching red earrings, green knee-high boots and absolutely nothing else.

We hadn't had a chance to fuck yet on this visit, and I was climbing the walls in anticipation. He had picked me up at my hotel and driven us into the park, where he'd parked the car.

We'd been walking leisurely for maybe a half-hour, just talking about this, that and the other, when we found ourselves standing along a rail, looking out at the Jefferson Memorial.

We seemed to be lost in thought when I felt his hand on my butt. He very slowly lifted the hem of my dress, until he could caress my naked ass.

His powerful hands never failed to light my fuse, and my pussy was drooling as he cupped each cheek, then slid a couple of fingers down the crack of my ass. He brushed my hole with a finger, then slipped down and I gasped as his fingers penetrated my gushing gash.

He swirled his fingers around in my honey pot, taking time to roll my clit a couple of times, then slid his gooey fingers back up and began to rim my anus.

I groaned as I looked over at him quizzically, then gasped as one of his fingers slid into my ass.

"Darrell?" I asked. "Don't you think we should wait until we get to someplace a little more private?"

"Nope," he said. "That's the treat. I'm gonna fuck your ass, right here, right now."

"But what if... oh God, that feels so good," I panted, as he began to work a finger in my ass and one in my cunt. "What if... someone sees us? What about the... cops?"

"This is one of the more secluded places around this time of day that you'll find," he continued. "I can see the cops before they see me, and if it's anyone besides the cops, we'll just give 'em a show. And I want to see how far you'll go to get what you want. Unless you do exactly as I say, you won't get any of this tonight."

And I glanced down at that moment and saw the indentation his cock was making in his snug jeans. It hung down the inside of his right thigh like a loaded pistol, hard and angry looking. Just seeing it in that condition made my pussy cream.

I wanted that cock right then more than anything in the world, and I was willing to risk being seen by passing tourists to get it. Besides, the place was fairly secluded and the sun had just gone down, darkening the area, and giving us a measure of cover. 

I stood up and pulled Darrell to me and we kissed wantonly. He had a burning look in his eyes that I had learned was a reflection of intense arousal on his part.

"I've told you before, I'll do anything you want," I whispered. "Just give me that big, beautiful cock."

He nodded and turned me so that I was looking out at the road that passed about 100 yards away.

"Spread your legs and bend over," Darrell commanded as he continued to ream my holes with his dripping-wet fingers. "All the way, then grab the backs of your thighs and hold them there."

It's a good thing I work out relentlessly, because my legs were about to be tested like never before. I spread my legs wide, bent over at the waist, until my hair was brushing the concrete of the sidewalk we were standing on. As I grabbed the backs of my thighs, my skirt fell past my waist, exposing my naked ass to the world. 

I could feel a crackle of intense arousal at this exhibition of my wantonness. I have always gotten a rush from fucking in semi-public places, going as far back as when Howard and I first discovered sex in the back seat of his father's car.

Darrell had tapped into that little fetish pretty quickly, and he has exploited it on many occasions, as I said earlier. 

But this was way beyond anything I had ever imagined that I would do. This wasn't just semi-public; this was all but out in the open, where anyone could walk up on us.

I didn't care. I was so horny and I needed Darrell's cock so badly right at that moment, that I'd have fucked him on the floor of the Senate, in front of the Vice-President of the United States, if that's what he'd wanted.

I looked back from between my legs and saw Darrell take up his position behind me. I felt a shiver run through my body as I heard his zipper open. I felt SO exposed as I held my thighs, almost like I was offering myself to anyone who passed by.

Darrell sawed his throbbing hard cock between my pussy lips, scooping up a generous amount of my cunt juice as he did. He put one hand on my hip to steady me, and with the other he pressed the head of his cock to my anus and pushed his way right on in.

"AHHHH UNNNNNHHH!" I grunted as he plunged into my ass with one long hard thrust.

That was just the way I liked it. By then, I had been fucked in the ass enough - by Darrell and others - that I didn't need to take it slow and easy. When I was worked up enough for a good ass fuck, I wanted it fast and hard.

And that's just what Darrell did. He fucked my ass fast and hard. 

It gave me a huge thrill to know that his cool command wasn't there this time. He was tense, edgy, and that's how he fucked me. He was incredibly hard, and in this position, I could feel every ridge, every vein as he pounded his cock relentlessly in my spastic rectum.

It didn't take much of this until I felt the rush of a full-body orgasm power through my body. I twitched and twittered, as much as it was possible to do in this position, and then I felt his arms encircle my waist, and his fingers found my clit.

"AHHHHHIIIIEEE!" I yelled, not caring now if we were heard or not. "Mmmmmmmmm! Oh yeah, baby! Fuck me, fuck your whore."

That's just what I felt like, a whore. Right about then, I'd have taken on the whole city of Washington, if that was what Darrell had wanted. 

My whole body was trembling as another orgasm exploded through me, from the combination of Darrell's cock pumping in my ass and his fingers working my pussy. My legs were burning, but I wasn't about to move until I was told to.

And I knew that moment was pretty close at hand, because I could hear Darrell grunting and panting rhythmically as he hit the short strokes. His hands gripped my butt as he worked me back and forth on his cock, almost like he was just using me to masturbate.

I felt another ripple of an orgasm as I felt him swell in my rectum, and then he poured out a fountain of cum. He fired bolt after bolt of hot, creamy cum deep in my rectum, and I shuddered as I milked him of every drop.

As I came back to earth, I sensed that we weren't alone. Sure enough, when Darrell pulled his wilting cock from my gaping ass and I stood back up straight, I spied a young woman standing by a tree maybe 30 yards away. She was wearing a jogging suit and she had one hand clutched between her legs.

Darrell nonchalantly stuffed his cock back in his slacks while I smoothed my dress back over my thighs, then we wrapped our arms around each other and laughed at her astonished expression.

As we walked back to his car, I felt the wonderful feeling of my cored-open ass and Darrell's cum as it slid out the well-fucked hole and down the backs of my legs.

That was just one example of the lengths I would often go to get the kind of mind-boggling sex I'd come to crave. And there were many more to come... 

To be continued...



Too Great a Temptation Ch. 03



Howard's story

I slept fitfully that Saturday night, thinking about what I had discovered about Shelley.

One thing that disturbed me profoundly as I read further into her logbooks was the fact that at some points I was becoming sexually aroused at the thought of what she was doing.

In fact, the next night, Sunday, I woke up in the middle of the night with a throbbing hard-on after having a dream about something that I'd read in her logs about something she had done.

And that left me terribly confused. I was still hurt by the fact that she had deceived me for so long, and that she had sought out sex, lots of it, outside the marriage vows.

But I couldn't get out of my mind the fact that I loved this woman, that she had been my partner for 31 years, that she was and always has been the sexiest thing I'd ever seen.

I don't know, maybe I have always had an inferiority complex where Shelley was concerned. All I know is that I've always considered myself lucky to have her, and I was having a hard time dealing with the possibility of losing her.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I didn't necessarily blame the people she was seeing. I mean, let's face it, my wife is a knockout, and I can't see anyone turning down a chance to fuck her.

So how did I feel about Shelley, now that I knew about her secret life?

I put my logical thought processes to it, considering how she had remained loving and affectionate through all of this. She had never denied me when I wanted sex, never let on that I wasn't adequate for her needs, never tried to assault my manhood.

That counted for something. She may have been deceiving me when she traveled, but I didn't think she such a good actress that she could fake the kind of affection she'd continued to show me. Even sleeping, she has always been one to cuddle and bond herself to me.

I believed I needed to take that into consideration when it came time to decide the fate of our marriage.

Then there was the matter of the logs themselves.

Why had she felt compelled to chart her adultery? Did she subconsciously want to get caught? Was it guilt?

It was obvious by the way they were hidden away that she didn't want me to find them, but it was also obvious that she felt a need to write down her exploits, maybe as a way of unburdening herself.

I still wasn't sure about what I was going to do, but I knew one thing for certain. We needed some serious help with communication.

I had never realized that my wife had this sexual beast that was lurking inside of her. Oh, I knew she could get pretty hot-blooded sexually, but I had no concept of what kind of a sexual creature she really was inside, and how it had begun to consume her.

And, for some reason, she never felt like she could tell me that I wasn't giving her what she wanted, what she needed. She had just let me rock along thinking I was doing fine, when obviously I wasn't doing fine at all.

As I said at the start, I'm quiet and fairly mild-mannered, so it's not in my nature to ask what's going on in Shelley's head. And for all of her assertiveness and business acumen, Shelley is pretty guarded about the inner workings of her mind, and she doesn't readily volunteer information, not even to me. If we had any hope of salvaging our marriage, and at that point I wasn't sure if that was possible, that had to change.

And while we were restoring our lines of communication, I realized that we also needed to be more open in sharing our fantasies. It's clear to me that Shelley has some rather lurid fantasies, and it appears that she's been living out as many of them as possible.

She apparently fantasized about sex with a black man, she's developed a taste for anal sex and she has shown a bent toward exhibitionism.

I, too, have some pretty raunchy fantasies, and most of them involve many of the things Shelley has been up to over these past seven years, which was why I found myself aroused at some of the passages I encountered in her logs, in spite of the hurt they caused.

As I made my way through her logs, moving through 1999, 2000, 2001 and beyond, I saw several names appear and disappear, but Louis Bertelli and Darrell Poston remained pretty constant.

There were also few others that began to appear with numbing regularity, and one of them was an Alicia Sanchez, a client of Shelley's in Miami.

It followed the same pattern as the others, meetings and dinner dates, right up to an entry from early 2000 that made my cock stand up and salute, because it described one of my most cherished fantasies...

Shelley's story

I guess it's a fair question to ask why I kept such detailed logs of my trysts with other lovers. Really, though, that's like asking me why I breathe.

Mostly, it was just force of habit. I'm not kidding when I say that I started in my company at the bottom and worked my way up the ladder. My first job there was as a stenographer, and one of the first things I learned was to keep concise, yet detailed notes of everything that went on in my job.

Until I got my promotion seven years ago, I kept my work logs in spiral notebooks. But one of the congratulatory gifts I got from a co-worker was a hardbound logbook, a datebook that I could order refills of each year as I needed.

So I began to use those, because they were easier and more precisely dated. And I kept them, I think, because something else was at work in my mind, a subconscious sense of guilt.

I've known from the very first that I've deceived Howard grievously. I've said repeatedly that he is a sweet, loving man that I probably don't deserve, and he certainly doesn't deserve to be treated the way I've treated him. I'll live with that shame for the rest of my life, no matter what happens.

Maybe logging my trysts was a subconscious way of purging my guilt, a feeling that if I wrote it down in concise, clinical detail that it could somehow become less real.

So it just never occurred to me to not log everything I did on my business travels, and that included my sexual affairs. I don't know, maybe I considered those affairs part of the job. It certainly didn't hurt to make the clients happy, but that's not why I had these affairs.

Not every client I saw got to fuck me, and some who did only got to do it once. I've never gotten a sense that it affected my relations with the companies I deal with, pro or con.

As far as I know, nothing has ever gotten back to the home office about what I've done with clients in a social setting, and I'm not sure if there would be any reaction if it did.

I said earlier that I tried to be choosy about who I let fuck me, and I wasn't what you would call promiscuous, meaning that I wasn't out picking up strange guys every night that I was out traveling.

But for awhile there, up until about the middle of 2002, I went through several abortive affairs with clients in some of the cities where we do business.

Of course, Louis and Darrell remained pretty constant, usually three or four visits a year, sometimes more, along with a couple of others that I'm going to tell you about. They were the ones that passed muster, the ones that really rang my bell and took me to the peaks of ecstasy.

The others? They fell by the wayside for one reason or another.

There was Bob Keller in Philadelphia, who was real eye candy, but the two times he fucked me it was mechanical and he came way before I was ready. I could get that at home, with love and affection thrown in the bargain.

There was Eric Prydszinski in Pittsburgh, who had a really big fat cock. But, for some reason I can't fathom, he also had an ego bigger than all outdoors. He thought he was the answer to every woman's desire, but he didn't last 10 minutes in my hot box.

There was Sam Bounds in Kansas City, who was actually a really good fuck, and we had three very eventful nights of lust. We probably would have developed a relationship, except that my company and his could never agree on a price, so we went elsewhere, and I lost track of him.

There was Peter Martin in Houston, a big, rangy Texan who really knew how to treat a lady. But after two delightful encounters, he took another job with a company in Dallas, and we lost touch.

There was Al Dismukes in Denver, the less said the better. He was really good-looking and I thought he was sexy, but once he got me in bed, he did nothing for me. Then he got really obnoxious when I subsequently said no to his advances.

There was Kelly Marshall in San Francisco, who was a real sweet, sexy man, but he just didn't have enough cock. I mean, size can be overrated, but I've always been used to men who were a little bigger, and Kelly's 4 inches just didn't measure up.

Let's see. There was Bob in Detroit, Jack in Memphis and Barney in Minneapolis, one-timers who seemed promising, but who couldn't light my fire.

Hell, Jack was so nervous when he finally got me in bed that he couldn't even get it up. I've never seen a man go from cool and confident to completely unraveled in such a short period of time.

Anyway, I mentioned Sam Bounds, and when we couldn't reach an agreement for them to supply us with their particular product, we turned to a competing company in Miami, which is where I first encountered Alicia Sanchez, late in 1999.

I never in a million years thought I'd ever be attracted to another woman, but when I met Alicia, something happened in my groin, and I started getting wet between my legs.

Let me back up for a second. Like most women, I've always had a curiosity about lesbians and what they do, and I had occasionally fantasized about making love with another woman.

But I had never come remotely close to actually doing it, never met another woman who turned my crank to the point where I was determined to get in bed with her and find out what it was all about.

When I met Alicia Sanchez, however, that was the first thing that flashed through my mind.

Jesus God, talk about gorgeous. Alicia is slightly taller than my 5-foot-6, and slender, but certainly not skinny, with a delicious pair of plump tits, capped with dollar-sized areolas and nice, fat nipples.

She has thick waves of dark, dark hair framing an oval face that has her Cuban heritage written all over it. She has dark, haunting eyes, lush, full lips and a very talented tongue. She's probably around 35 now, meaning she was in her late 20s when we first met.

She's a real go-getter in her company, a rising star, with an aggressive personality to match. I think she took one look at me and sized me up as ripe for the plucking. She fixed me with those blazing brown eyes, and I practically melted right there in her office.

Whereas Sam's bosses were a little bit hard-assed and refused to dicker, Alicia's company and ours found common ground right away. I think Alicia convinced them that we could do business, which we have, quite successfully.

And Alicia convinced me pretty quickly that she could do some business with me. At first, it was just little things – lingering touches, flirtatious banter, smoldering stares. But it quickly escalated into outright flirting.

She wanted me, and she didn't bother to hide it much. The only question was whether I could overcome my heterosexual bent in order to experiment with lesbian sex.

She came out in the open to me about the third or fourth trip I made to Miami, right after the first of the year. We spent the day in discussions with her bosses, then she took me out on the town, and it was a real eye-opener.

To begin with, South Florida is SO different from New York, even though both cities have a strong Latin connection.

But being a suburban girl through and through, I had never really encountered the Puerto Ricans, Cubans, Salvadorans and others who make up the Latin population of the Five Boroughs. So Miami, with its strong Cuban flavor, was a real revelation.

The same was true of my exposure to the gay population. I've encountered gays of both genders in the course of my work, and, of course, New York City is a mecca for gays. I'm pretty open-minded, and I had never had any problem with them, but I had never really delved into their subculture until I met Alicia.

The place we went for dinner was a cozy, very intimate restaurant, and as I looked around, I realized that there were no mixed couples.

There were tables of men with men and women with women, like we were, and many of them were quite obvious about their orientation. I mean there were some men there who were real flamers, and some women there who looked like they could have played football for the Dolphins.

I took it all in with a slightly shocked expression, as Alicia looked over at me, peering over the rim of her drink with a bemused smile.

"Some crowd, huh?" she said. "Are you shocked?"

"Well, I, uh, I mean not really," I answered. "It takes a lot to shock me. Remember, I live in New York."

"You live in Westchester," Alicia corrected me. "Not the same as The Village."

"Yeah, but I've worked in Manhattan for almost 20 years, and I do ride the subway to and from work," I said. "I see a lot of pretty strange stuff. But I guess you're right. It's a pretty good ways from what I'm used to. So, tell me. Are you gay?" I knew the answer to that, but I wanted to hear it from her.

"Yes," she said, simply and softly, and the way she said it sent shivers of lust all up and down my body. Then she continued, in the same seductive tone of voice.

"And I know you're not, but you're curious, aren't you," she said, and I just nodded my head numbly. "When you first walked into my office, you lit a fire in me. You are so sexy, so sensual, so beautiful. I don't guess it will come as any surprise if I tell you that I have a weakness for blondes, especially hot ones like you."

"I-I'm flattered, really," I stammered. I was so aroused at that point, but I wasn't quite ready to shed convention for a romp with another woman, not yet. And I told her so.

Alicia nodded, and then she said something that knocked me out, because it echoed exactly what Louis had told me a little over a year earlier.

"When you're ready, you'll know," Alicia said softly. "And when it happens, it will be like nothing you've ever experienced."

By the time of my next visit, not long before the end of Carnival, I was ready. I had thought of little else, and I was eager to get her company on the dotted line, so I could enjoy the fruits of Alicia's lush body on a regular basis.

We got the contract done, and by now my superiors trusted me enough that they didn't have to look over my shoulder when the deal was signed. All they required was that I fax the legal department a copy of the draft contract for approval.

That was done, I got the contract back with the stamp of approval and we signed the agreement. Afterward, I was on my own with a whole night to celebrate before I had to get back to New York. And it was a Friday night, so work was no hindrance to our plans.

Alicia picked me up in her little sports car and we headed for South Beach. At that particular moment, I was 43 years old, I had lived, worked and helped raise two boys in one of the biggest metropolitan areas in the world, and I thought I had been around.

But nothing had prepared me for the assault on the senses that was Carnival on South Beach. It's not quite the same as in New Orleans or Rio, but it gets pretty wild and crazy.

Thank goodness I know how to drink responsibly, because you need your wits about you in situations like that. Even in the company of someone who knew the area, even while staying relatively sober, it got pretty hairy.

It was just the slightest bit cool that night, so I'd worn a light pullover sweater – no bra, of course – a simple skirt and a pair of flats. Alicia wore a tight pair of leather jeans, boots and a tank top – no bra, of course.

The whole night we stared at each other's bouncing tits, with our nipples showing rock-hard through our tops.

We ended up at a disco – a gay disco, of course – and we danced for several hours. We started out just boogying, but it quickly turned intensely sexual.

We hadn't been there but about an hour when Alicia pulled me close to her. Our bodies were slithering together as she stared into my eyes, then pulled my face to hers and we kissed.

God! As long as I live, I will never forget the feeling of that first kiss with Alicia Sanchez. Her lucious lips caressed my lips and her tongue darted out to meet my tongue in a soul kiss that seemed to go on forever. It was only when we heard the whoops and hollers of those around us that we finally came to. We spent the rest of our time there bumping and grinding, taking turns humping our hot pussies on each other's thighs, pressing our chests together so that our tits melded as one.

I mean you could actually see the dampness on the thighs of her leather jeans from where they had come into contact with my soaking-wet panties.

Finally, as the highlight of the night, we were dancing a particularly energetic number when she looked over at me and sort of mouthed the words over the deafening sound of the music, "do you want to see them?"

I nodded, not quite sure what she meant, so she reached down and pulled her shirt completely off, in one smooth motion. She waved the sweat-soaked shirt over her head as she danced topless, and I'm not sure what got into me, but I reached down and pulled my sweater off in response.

I quickly tied it around my waist, then we closed together and danced topless, our eyes riveted to the other's jiggling tits, while the rest of the dancers on the floor urged us on. Slowly, we embraced, our nipples touched, and it was like an electric shock of lust.

My pussy was absolutely flooded as I pulled her to me and this time I initiated the deep, soul kiss. And when we broke, I looked her in the eyes, then whispered in her ear.

"Take me back to the hotel and love me," I panted. "I want you so bad I can't stand it. If we don't leave now, I'm liable to take you down right here, right now."

And I meant it. Right then, I was as horny as I had been in quite some time. I wanted to feel Alicia's lips on my clit, her tongue in my pussy and her hands on my tits. Badly.

We managed to throw our tops on as we stumbled out of the club. Our arms were wrapped around each other's shoulders as we awaited the valet, then we kissed again.

This being Miami, the valet wasn't the least bit shocked to see two women kissing as he arrived with Alicia's car.

We got in and headed for my hotel. As soon as we were on the expressway, she reached over with her right hand and caressed my thigh. She slid her smooth hand up under my skirt until she reached the junction of my legs.

The heat of my pussy radiated out in waves as she softly touched my soaking-wet panties. She brushed my clit through the flimsy material, and I threw my head back and moaned in mounting ecstasy.

I wanted her to slip her fingers inside and touch me, but she just ran her fingers up and down my crevice through my panties, up to my clit, which she rolled several times in a slow, sensual motion.

"I'm going to make you come in your panties," she whispered, never taking her eyes off the road as she drove at a modest speed.

And she proceeded to do just that. She applied more pressure on my cunt, and the thin, silky material of my panties acted as a magnifier, sending sensual waves through my groin and up to my brain.

I slid lower in the seat, pulled my skirt up to my waist, spread my legs and groped my tits through my sweater as I felt the wet heat build to a crescendo.

Just about the time we arrived at the exit for my hotel, I felt the rush of a hard climax flow through me, and I felt my juices slide out of my pussy to further soak my panties.

Alicia's eyes were blazing as we parked the car, then we embraced hotly, our mouths straining and our tongues working frantically.




Too Great a Temptation Ch. 03



"That was just the appetizer," she whispered. "The main course is upstairs."

I was ready to feast on her lucious body, so we walked hand-in-hand to the elevator, then held each other for the ride to my floor.

When we got into my room, we kissed again. God, I couldn't get enough of her lips and her tongue. As we kissed we pulled each other's tops off, and this time we filled our hands with the quivering flesh of each other's breasts.

Alicia's tits were so soft, so bouncy, as I hefted them in each hand. Then I felt a sizzle of lust as I felt her hands cup my breasts and roll my nipples around.

I gasped as she bent down and captured one of my nipples in her lips and proceeded to lick, kiss and nibble on each of my hard little nubs. But I didn't let her linger, because I REALLY wanted a taste of her precious globes.

I pulled her head away and bent my own head down to her tits. My first taste of another woman's breasts was divine, and I was gratified when Alicia clasped a hand at the back of my head, as if she was pressing me to her bosom.

As I was munching on Alicia's chest, I frantically unbuttoned her jeans and got a very pleasant surprise. The inside of her pants was soaked from the juices flowing from her naked pussy. I slid my hand down the front of her jeans and found her drooling slit. 

I got a rush out of the fact that she hadn't worn panties, and that she had been oozing her juice all over the inside of her pants all night long.

I also felt a thrill run through me as I confronted a woman's wet naked cunt for the first time in my life. She was very wet and very hot as I slid two fingers between her labia and up to her swollen little clit.

Alicia gave a sharp intake of breath as I rummaged my fingers around in her pussy, until she pulled my hand out of her pants and pushed me back lightly.

I moved to the bed, shedding my skirt as I did. I went to pull off my panties, but Alicia told me to leave them on for just a little bit. Lord, they were soaking wet already; I wasn't sure how much more of my juice they could absorb.

I turned around after I pulled the cover down on the bed, and got a truly awesome sight. Alicia had pulled off her boots and her jeans, and stood naked in front of me.

I just drank in the image, awestruck by her sexiness, her sensual beauty. Her pendulous tits swayed gently on her chest as she sauntered over to me, but what really captivated me was the well-trimmed pubic bush that utterly failed to mask her pretty little pussy.

Alicia had trimmed her pubes to just a thin bit of hair, yet it still had the triangle shape that allowed it to frame her vagina. And her pussy looked delectable. She had thin lips that left her opening clear, as if inviting me to play.

We embraced again, and our hands swept over each other's flesh, sending our mutual arousal to a fever pitch. Even though I had already come once, I was hanging on the edge of another, stronger orgasm, just from her sensuality.

After breaking apart this time, Alicia gently pushed me back on the bed. I lay back, my blonde hair fanning out across the pillow, my legs spread wide. We stared into each other's eyes as she crawled onto the bed.

She ran both hands up the insides of my thighs and just slightly brushed them over the gushing mound of my sex. I gasped and groaned as she swept her hands up my body, caressing my tits, until she reached back around and grasped the waistband of my panties.

Alicia slowly, sensually pulled my panties over my hips, and I raised my legs slightly to give her a chance to pull them off.

I can't recall a more erotic feeling than the way she slowly peeled my panties away from my pussy. I felt like a naughty schoolgirl, as if I was exposing myself to another person for the first time.

And was I ever wet. As the gusset of my panties was pulled away from my cunt, it seemed like little tendrils of my sticky juice clung to the fabric. Then Alicia pulled the panties up my legs and tossed them aside, leaving me naked in front of another female for the first time since junior high gym class.

Now it was Alicia's turn to gasp as she took in my sweet, slick hole.

"Beautiful," she whispered. "Absolutely beautiful."

I guess the need in my eyes was evident, because she didn't fool around. She bent down on the bed, got her face up close to my crotch and dove in.

Actually, that's not quite how it happened. The very first thing she did was run two fingers up and down my slit, parting my lips and swirling a finger over my clit, then slipped those two fingers into my pussy.

I closed my eyes and writhed on the bed as my climax began to gather steam. Alicia fingered me for just a few seconds, as if she was stirring a pot of stew, then suddenly I felt her lips caress my outer labia and her tongue bored into my hole.

"Ahhhhh! Yeeeeeaaaaahhh!" I squealed as she began to eat my pussy with all the expertise she could muster.

I felt the white-hot crackling of my orgasm as it built to a peak, and unlike Louis and some others, she didn't pull back and tease me. I ran my hands through her thick, dark hair as I held her to my crotch and humped myself with abandon on her face.

Alicia's long tongue worked expertly, all around my pussy, up to my clit and back around to spear my insides. I was gasping, moaning and squealing, my body jerking on the bed she ate me relentlessly.

I could have lain there forever, but my body needed release, and as Alicia clamped her mouth fully on my vagina, I felt the rumbling explosion of a colossal orgasm. I cried out, screamed, panted and moaned as the convulsions ripped through me.

I finally had to pull her away, to give my overheated cunt a little rest. Alicia's eyes were on fire as she emerged from between my legs. I knew what she wanted, what she needed, and I knew what I wanted, what I needed.

"Come up here, baby, and let me love you," I whispered.

Alicia didn't answer, but simply crawled up the bed, then rolled onto her back, her legs spread wide. She had almost a feral look on her face, and her pussy was dripping with the fruit of her arousal.

Because this was my first experience eating another woman's pussy, I wanted to savor the moment a little bit, but I didn't intend to savor it very long. I got right up between her legs, used my fingers to pull her labia open and just gazed for a moment at the coral-pink insides, covered with her steamy wetness.

I had to taste her. I stuck out my tongue and swiped it up her furrow, and was rewarded with an earthy groan. I glanced up and Alicia's eyes were closed like she was in a reverie of some sort, her lips moving wordlessly.

I took just a moment to study my first taste of aroused womanhood. It was a little funky, but what it represented made it as intoxicating as the finest champagne. I had to have more, so I got my tongue back into her crotch and really began to work my tongue, and then my lips on her fragrant cunt.

I tried to recall some of the oral actions she'd done on me, and I must have done something right, because I heard Alicia cry out and her body began to move in jerky motions.

I licked up her slit, I rolled my tongue around her clit, I fucked her with my fingers and then my tongue, I vacuumed her whole pussy into my mouth. I did everything I could think of to give this sensual creature the kind of passion she'd given me.

It didn't take long before Alicia was crying out rhythmically, humping my face hard as her orgasm swelled into a tidal wave of lust. I felt her arch her back hard, as she seemed to teeter on the brink, then with a hard groan, she shuddered violently as the climax hit her like a sledgehammer.

All I could do was hold on for the ride as she clamped her legs around my neck and held my face to her flooding cunt. I slurped up as much of her flow of female juice as I could and let the rest just smear over my chin.

Finally, she relaxed, and I heard her give out a slow laugh, a chuckle of supremely sated lust, and I slid up the bed and into her arms as we bathed in the glow of our union.

Alicia taught me everything there was to know about lust between two women before she finally staggered out of my hotel room around 8 o'clock the next morning.

We spent an awful long time entwined in a 69 position, and honestly, I've never had an experience like it. We just kept giving and taking passion from each other as we dined on each other's steaming pussy.

We seemed to go from one orgasmic peak to another as we ate each other out.

Later, she showed me how to scissor our legs together so that we could meld our pussies together. God! The feeling of her succulent cunt slithering across mine, our clits dueling, was a feeling of ecstasy I can't begin to describe.

Sex with Alicia has been something completely different from anything else I've experienced. It is such a change from sex with a man, and that's what makes it so enjoyable.

But it is something I only want as a sometime thing. Like the others, I make about four or five trips to Miami a year, and that's as much girl sex as I want. If I did it any more often, the novelty would wear off, and it would lose its appeal.

And I certainly don't want it with anyone else. Just because I found myself attracted to Alicia doesn't mean I'm suddenly lusting after every hot woman I see. In fact, I have yet to meet another woman who has turned me on like Alicia.

Thus, she understands how important she is. I think she's the only woman I'll ever have sex with, and that gives our relationship a little something extra.

As a result, Alicia has done things with me and taken me places that I could not have imagined. She has used her talented tongue, tapered fingers and lucious lips on me every chance she could, including the restroom in her office building on several occasions. And it didn't take me long to learn how to reciprocate.

But it was when we'd meet at her apartment that we'd really let it all hang out.

Alicia has a devilish array of toys – dildoes, vibrators, strap-ons, bullets – and she has regularly used them on me to send me soaring into the stratosphere in orgasmic ecstasy.

One night in particular stands out. I guess this would have been around the middle of 2002, on a hot, steamy summer night.

I arrived at her apartment just after dark, and she greeted me with a real sparkle in her eyes. She said she had a movie she wanted me to see, that it had a scene that she wanted to try to reenact on a more modest scale.

It was a really intense flick called "Requiem for a Dream," and it was about a group of drug addicts, including a really good-looking brunette.

I'm not sure how it was set up, but this girl apparently needed to score and didn't have the money. So to earn the money for her fix, she agreed to do this show for a group of businessmen in a hotel room.

The show involved a fairly unusual lesbian sex act, and as soon as I saw what was going on, my pussy absolutely flooded. My eyes popped out of my head and I grinned real big. I looked over at Alicia, and she looked like the cat that ate the canary.

"See, I knew you'd get off on this," Alicia said, in a very lascivious tone of voice. "Come on, let's go to bed."

We quickly shed our clothes and I climbed on her waterbed while Alicia rummaged around in the drawer where she kept her toys. My eyes widened when I saw her emerge with a wicked-looking double-headed dildo, a set of bullets and a tube of lubricant jelly.

Alicia just stood next to the bed and stared at me as I ran my fingers through my bubbling cunt lips and twirled my clit around. I was already so horny I couldn't stand it, and I was considering going ahead and masturbating myself to a quick early orgasm.  Mutual masturbation is something Alicia and I do quite a bit. We like to watch each other as we each approach a climax. I get a voyeuristic thrill from watching her fingers slide between her labia, stroke her clit and pump back and forth in her hot horny hole.

But this time, she broke her reverie, shooed my fingers away from my crotch and had me lie back on the bed.

She got on the bed, on her knees, and ran her fingers between my gushing pussy lips, lingering for a few seconds at my clit, which was erect and throbbing with need.

Alicia slid two fingers past my gates and slowly, rhythmically began to fuck me, and I couldn't help but take my tits in hand, squeezing the flesh and pinching the nipples. I was on fire with lust, and I was ready to have my mind blown.

After fingering my pussy for a couple of minutes, she took some of my copious juice and smeared it all over my asshole, just lightly rimming the entrance, but not really penetrating. As she did, she moved closer to me, spread her legs slightly and wordlessly invited me to run my fingers through her juicy slit.

We both worked each other's juice around the rim of our respective assholes, alternating with a few moments of brisk finger fucking of each other's dripping cunt.

After a little bit of that, during which time our arousal was going through the roof, Alicia reached for the jelly and squeezed out a generous dollop. She massaged the lube in and around my pussy, getting it all slick and shiny, then repeated the process and slid two well-lubed fingers into my ass.

I groaned heavily as I felt Alicia's practiced fingers in my butt. I had, by then, become a real fiend for anal sex, and I loved getting my butt fucked.

Alicia worked her two fingers back and forth in my ass, getting the lube good up my hole, then slipped those fingers out and worked them in my pussy. At the same time, she slipped her ring finger and her pinkie in my ass and quickly set about finger-fucking my ass and pussy at the same time.

And when I felt her thumb start to roll my clit around, I couldn't stop it. I came hard on her hand, writhing and gasping as the orgasm worked its way through me.

But I knew that was just the prelude; that more was in store. Alicia removed her hand from my crotch and told me to get on my knees. We were facing each other kissing wantonly as our fingers worked in each other's crotch.

As she had done for me, I fucked her holes with my four fingers, and she threw her head back in mounting lust.

Before she could come, however, she pulled my hand away and cast a devilish look at me.

Leaving me on my knees, with my ass thrust into the air, she first took one of the bullets and slid it into my pussy. My hungry cunt seemed to devour the 6-inch long cylinder, and it was quickly deep in my womb, with the cord to the controls running out of my hole like a small snake.

She put the other bullet up her cunt, and I saw her lid her eyes lustfully and heard her gasp softly as it smoothly slid into her depths.

Alicia turned each of the two control dials, and I immediately felt a subtle buzzing deep in my pussy. I could feel a huge orgasm gather steam as the vibrations from the bullet began to do their work.

"Are you ready?" Alicia asked seductively.

"Oh God, yes," I panted. "Give it to me."

She picked up the double-headed dildo, and I actually salivated as she squeezed a long stripe of lube across one end. This was a formidable piece of hard rubber, approximately 18 inches long and two inches thick, with a prominent ridge running the entire length and criss-crossed with real-looking veins.

Alicia pressed the head of the dong to my ass, and I squealed, then gasped as she pushed it in my rectum. She worked about half of it in, while turning up the volume on the bullet.

My pussy was buzzing like a bee, as the vibrations seemed to work in time to the dildo in my ass. I sensed, more than saw Alicia move in behind me, facing away from me, and slip the other end of the dong into her ass.

But I definitely heard her ecstatic scream as she worked her ass on her end of the dong. And I moaned in utter abandon as her thrusts pushed my end further into my ass.

In no time, we had a brisk rhythm working. We were fucking ourselves on the dildo, but we were also fucking each other with it. The feeling was unbelievable, especially when Alicia turned the bullets up to full power.

That was the straw that broke me. As the bullet pummeled the inside of my cunt and the dildo rammed back and forth in my ass, I felt the white-hot explosion of a brain-numbing, body-shaking climax race through me.

Seconds later, I heard – and felt – Alicia as she reached her own orgasm. And we just kept right on fucking each other with that thing.

I reached under my body with a hand and found my impossibly swollen clit, and the second I touched it, I exploded in another orgasm, even more intense than the one before it.

We eventually had to roll onto our backs, or rather, our sides, but we kept on humping away in sweat-soaked ecstasy as we took each other to orgasm after orgasm.

My mind became a blur as I shook and thrashed on Alicia's bed, until finally, after one particularly strong climax, I simply passed out.

When I came back to reality, I felt a weird void left after Alicia had pulled the toys out of my body, and my insides felt like they'd been turned to jelly.

That night was emblematic of a threshold I had passed in the previous months, where I was absolutely insatiable. There was a kind of madness at work in my mind, and looking back on it, I realize that sex had begun to control me, rather than the other way around.

And over the course of the intervening months, I began to lose more and more control over my life as I swirled deeper into a hardcore lifestyle I never thought possible...

To be continued.. 



Too Great a Temptation Ch. 04



Howard's story

Believe it or not, I actually got a call from Shelley that Sunday night, as I was reading through one of her logbooks.

That was very unusual. On most of her trips, she was too busy to call – or at least that's what she had said.

For about the first year or so that she spent traveling like that, I'd often call, and more times than not, I wouldn't reach her. I'd leave a message at the desk, and sometimes she'd return my call, sometimes she wouldn't. It finally got where I never bothered, because she was on the road so much.

But she called that night, and she sounded funny, like she was down in the dumps about something. She said she'd just wanted to hear my voice and tell me that she loved me. Considering what I was doing at that very moment, it struck me as quite odd and very ironic.

And it also served to completely confuse me to the point where I was walking around in a fog.

Truthfully, I was in a daze when I went to work the next day. Everyone noticed that I seemed distracted, and several co-workers asked me if anything was wrong.

What could I tell them? That I had spent the whole weekend learning that my wife – the woman I loved, the mother of my children and the person I had hoped to grow old with – was a lying, cheating slut? And that she had been deceiving me like that for seven years?

Actually, that's not quite true. I don't think she'd ever lied to me about what she was doing, because I had never suspected anything to the point where she'd had to lie about it.

And I wasn't sure if I could say she'd been lying when she said she loved me, because I think maybe she really did still love me in some form or fashion.

When I got home that Monday, after a thoroughly unproductive day of work, I had to think about what I was going to do.

Specifically, I had to figure out what, if anything, I was going to tell the boys. What was I going to tell them in the event that I decided that divorce was the only option? They would be devastated to learn the truth about their mother.

Shelley wasn't as much of a hands-on parent as I was, but she had been around enough to be a part of their lives. While I had been the disciplinarian, Shelley had been their buddy, their confidante. Both of them take after her as far as their personalities go, and they have always been close to their mother.

Don't get me wrong, my sons are both fine young men, and I never had to really crack the whip with them, just the normal curfew violations, a couple of times when they had a little too much to drink, but nothing major.

And I have a good relationship with both of them. But not like they have with Shelley. I'm worried that if it comes down to a divorce, that all of the ugly truth will come out, and our family will be split at the seams.

Another thing about a divorce, too, is the difficulty in dividing our assets. Our savings and retirement accounts – not to mention our house and belongings – are so intricately joined that dividing them could be a legal nightmare.

That means that no matter how much we might want an amicable split, if it gets in the hands of the lawyers, I worry that we'll become enemies in spite of our best intentions. And that was something I dearly do not want to have happen.

So I had a real dilemma on my hands about whether my marriage could survive, whether it should survive or whether it would survive.

A younger man would undoubtedly look at me and wonder why I would even consider staying with an adulterous slut like Shelley. But when you put 50 in your rear view mirror, you start thinking a lot harder about how you want the end of your life to play out.

And the cold, hard truth of it is that I still love Shelley, in spite of what I've learned about her, and I still want to spend the rest of my life with her. I'm deathly afraid of growing old alone, of having the joy of my later years sapped by the bitterness and loneliness a divorce would create.

I don't understand what is going on in Shelley's mind, but I don't know if I'm ready to give her up. I began to wonder, too, as I read through the last couple of logbooks, if Shelley really knew herself what she was doing, or why she was doing it.

Quite frankly, the last couple of years were some painful reading in some respects. It was like she knew she was hurting me, knew she was hurting herself, by some of the things she was doing, and that, deep inside, she really didn't care.

And it began to dawn on me, in some corner of my mind, that she had never fully dealt with the emotional trauma of the Sept. 11 attacks, and that maybe that had something to do with what she was doing.

Before that awful day, her log entries were fairly routine, all things considered. I mean, yes, she was having these affairs, but it was fairly conventional sex. After 9-11, however, I began to notice that she got a lot more reckless, started getting into a lot of borderline dangerous situations.

She got a lot wilder with all of her lovers, but in particular, I began to notice that she really went off the deep end when she visited California.

Sometime late in 2000, she had begun working on a big account with a distributing company in Southern California, dealing first with a client named Jim Pearson and then his partner Sid Huguet.

Like all of the others, it started with Pearson wining and dining Shelley, but then it suddenly got a little kinkier, when Sid Huguet started showing up in the logs along with Jim Pearson.

I read in disbelief – but also with a huge, painful hard-on – as my lovely wife went totally out of control...





Too Great a Temptation Ch. 04



I don't remember much about the conversation, except that I wished him a Happy New Year and that I felt incredibly guilty when I hung up. Of course, a committed adulteress deals with guilt by submerging it in illicit lust, and that's what I did.

Once we got back in the limo, Howard was the last thing on my mind. This time, I didn't waste any time. As soon as we took off for my hotel, I slid to the floor, on my knees between Jim and Sid.

I reached to my right and fished Sid's cock from his pants, then to my left and hauled Jim's meat into the open. I took both cocks in my hand and just gazed at them for a moment in wonder. I pulled the foreskin back from Sid's cock and inhaled his funky aroma. It was incredibly intoxicating.

I slid my tongue up the length of him, then opened my mouth and sucked him in. I worked him deeper and deeper into my throat until I took him all. I couldn't take it for very long, but I wanted him to know what he was dealing with, and that was a really good cocksucker.

I couldn't get nearly that much of Jim's cock in, but I made up for it by really working my lips over his angry red meat. I worked his shaft between my lips, licking the fat length all the way up and down, then pushed his bulbous cock head back into my mouth.

I think they both wanted to come right then, but I backed off every time I felt them get close. They laughed because they knew I was enjoying a little turnabout for the way they had teased me earlier.

At length, we arrived at my hotel, and I was ready. I was as horny as I had been in quite some time, well, since my last business trip, which had been to Chicago. And I honestly don't think I was nearly as horny that time.

When we got up to my room, I slipped into the bathroom, where I pulled off my dress and fixed my makeup. When I emerged, I was greeted by an awesome sight. Jim and Sid were both standing by the bar naked, having a drink.

As I drank in the sight of their almost-hard cocks sticking out in front of them, their eyes lit up in lust as they saw me sashay toward them, naked except for my heels, my stockings and the garter belt. I looked – and felt – like a hundred-dollar hooker, and bless me, they treated me like one.

I wrapped an arm around each one and offered them my mouth. I kissed each of them with a smoldering passion as I ran my hands over their bodies and they ran their hands over mine.

Quickly, though, my hands gravitated like magnets to their big, beautiful cocks, and I stroked them into immediate iron hardness. I knew what I wanted right then more than anything. I wanted to taste them, to taste their hardness and taste their cum. And I told them just that.

"I think that's a splendid idea," Jim said jovially.

I dropped to my knees, and came face-to-face with their stiff rods. I inhaled Jim's cock first and took a little over half of him in before I started working him back and forth in my mouth. I was lightly fisting Sid's gleaming cock as I sucked on Jim's magnificent meat.

Then it was Sid's turn, and once again I swallowed every bit of his more modest cock. I've always been good at sucking a dick, although Howard quit asking for it some time previously. Why, I don't know. But over these past seven years, I've honed my oral technique to the point where I think I'm the best around.

I worked both of those throbbing dicks back and forth, and even together at one point, as my arousal began to spike like crazy. I wanted so bad to take a hand and give myself the orgasm I'd been needing all day, but that would have required that I turn one of their cocks loose, and I wasn't about to do that.

I sucked faster and harder, and I could feel them start to strain, their hands working my head to quicken the pace. I had Sid's cock buried in my throat when I heard him gasp and I felt his cock spew a tremendous cumload into my throat.

Most of the time I can swallow all of a man's cum when he shoots, but Sid shot so much cum so quickly that I couldn't begin to keep up, and a good bit of it flowed out from around my lips and down my chin.

As I worked on swallowing Sid's cum, I could see out of the corner of my eye that Jim was jacking his spit-slick cock furiously. Just at the moment that Sid finally quit coming, I pulled my mouth off Sid's dick, and turned my head toward Jim just in time to watch a truly prodigious load explode out of his cock.

It was almost like one of those cum movies, where the stud covers the woman's face with his semen. Jim shot about a half-dozen thick hot ropes of cream all over my face – over my cheeks, my nose, my eyes, my hair and then my lips as I drew his cock to my mouth so I could get the last dregs of his climax.

I laughed dementedly as I felt the cum congeal on my face. I was way beyond horny by then, and fortunately, they quickly took care of me.

Jim pulled me up from the floor, and maneuvered me to the bed on my back. He got on the bed with me, on his knees, and he simply reached down, picked me up by the waist and hauled me up until my dripping pussy was at face level, then he dove in.

He started out by sucking my whole sex into his mouth, and I screamed in ecstasy at that, then gasped loudly as he parted my labia with his tongue. God, his tongue was like the rest of him, bigger than life, and I was quickly soaring to a catastrophic climax.

I sensed, rather than saw, Sid move in behind me, as I was perched up in the air with just my head and shoulders on the mattress. But I quickly felt him as he pulled open my butt cheeks and slashed his tongue over my asshole.

He pressed his assault by working his lips and tongue vigorously all over my anus, while Jim gave my pussy a thorough tongue-lashing.

It was too much. I saw stars as my long-awaited orgasm boiled over. My body shuddered from head to toe and I cried out rhythmically as I came hard on their active mouths. It seemed like I was turned inside out as the climax roared through me.

But I was given little respite. Even as I started to come down from my orgasmic peak, I looked up to see that Jim's cock was already getting stiffer. And as they lowered me to the bed, I noticed that Sid was sporting a renewed hard-on as well.

I looked out through lust-lidded, cum-crusted eyes, first at Sid then at Jim and just whispered, "fuck me, please."

Sid licked his fingers a couple of times then stroked his cock once or twice before he pushed the head of his dick at my aching hole. I groaned almost in relief as he sank his meat into my pussy.

As Sid quickly got up to speed in my cunt, I looked up to see Jim slowly working his cock in his fist. I shooed his hand away, replaced it with mine and drew the leaking head to my mouth. I let him sink as much of his cock in my mouth as he wanted, which was a pretty good bit at that angle.

I was like one of those push-me, pull-you machines, every time Sid filled me with his rock-hard cock, it pushed my mouth further onto Jim equally hard dick. 

I was amazed that they could be so hard so quickly after I'd just drained them with my mouth. It was only later that I learned that they had each dropped a Viagra pill at the second party we'd attended. It really didn't matter how they did it, just that they were able to send me into orbit as they fucked me at both ends.

And I was starting to learn that while Jim had the impressive meat, it was Sid who was the more impressive fucker. He was like a piston as he smoothly pumped his cock back and forth in my steaming pussy, while I slurped and slobbered all over Jim's dick in my mouth.

I could have stayed like that forever, except that I wanted to feel Jim's big fat dong in my pussy, where it belonged, and I finally pulled Jim out of my mouth and begged – and I do mean begged – to get my cunt around his awesome dick.

I'm not sure what I expected; probably that Jim and Sid would simply switch places. But that's not what I got.

I was in a semi-orgasmic daze as Jim rolled onto his back, his huge cock aimed for the ceiling, then he deftly maneuvered me until I was on my knees, straddling his hips. I was on autopilot as I fit the fat head of his dick at my dripping hole and impaled myself on his long, fat pole.

I howled in delight as Jim thrust his cock into the deepest recesses of my pussy. It was a cathartic experience to be so filled. I was concentrating so much on the extreme pleasure I was getting from Jim's cock in my pussy and how close I was to another crashing climax, that I momentarily forgot about Sid.

But I quickly remembered him when I felt a pair of hands on my butt, pulling open my cheeks and smearing lubricant jelly all around my ass. Just the thought of what he was going to do sent my arousal spiking to a peak, and I worked my cunt up and down furiously on Jim's cock in a frenzy of anticipation.

Sid worked two fingers back and forth in my ass while I rode Jim, getting the lube all up and in me real good. It seemed like I was out of my body as I reached back, pulled my butt cheeks open and begged for Sid fuck my ass.

I heard Sid chuckle as he aimed his cock at my back opening. Jim pulled my hips up until just the head of his cock was embedded in my pussy, while Sid's cock poked at my anus.

Suddenly, I felt Sid's cock push past my sphincter, and right on cue, Jim slammed me down hard, driving both cocks deep in me at the same time. 

I screamed bloody murder at the exquisite feeling of being double penetrated. It was a scream of ecstasy, as my whole body was consumed by an orgasm of massive proportions. I was drunk on sex as the climax exploded through my body.

Incoherent sobs, cries, whimpers, moans and gasps filled the hotel room as Jim and Sid fucked my spastic holes relentlessly. I had never felt anything like it in all of my life – and by then, I was getting some seriously good sex from several places.

But this – this – was what I had been looking for, the kind of totally mind-blowing, body-wracking sex I think deep down that I had always wanted, and had never gotten with Howard.

I floated like a raft on a raging river from one huge orgasm right into another. My body was covered with sweat as these two men made a fuck sandwich out of me, abusing my pussy and my ass with their ruthless assault. 

And was I ever loving it!

Even at that, Jim and Sid lasted a good long while, working me between them. But finally, through the white haze of my overflowing lust, I felt them quicken the pace, and fuck me harder, if that was possible.

It was Jim who cracked first, driving his cock up one final time before spewing a volcano of creamy hot cum deep in my pussy. Seconds later, Sid pushed forward with three supremely deep thrusts and fired an equally hot, equally thick load of cum deep in my bowels.

We writhed on the bed like a three-backed beast as they filled my holes to overflowing and I finally crashed down to earth. Even as we drove over the top, we could hear the shouts of merriment outside as the clock struck midnight, signaling the arrival of the new year. But we were oblivious to anything except our own well-sated lust. 

For a long time, they just kept humping and firing off little mini-spurts of cum, and I drifted into unconsciousness.

I vaguely recall them rolling me onto the bed, dimly remember them telling me what time they'd be by in the morning to pick me up for the parade, only half realized it as they dressed and left me asleep in sweat-soaked, cum-filled satisfaction.

I was still asleep the next morning when they arrived to pick me up, and we never did make it to the parade. Jim and Sid took one look at my fuck-ravaged body, stripped off their clothes and fucked me again, this time one after the other. Then we all three took a shower and headed off to the football game. 

After the game, as we sat in the back of the limousine, Jim lifted my skirt, slid my panties aside, and licked my gushing pussy, before moving down to my ass, while Sid sat up on his knees on the seat and fed me his cock. 

When Jim had my ass spit-slick enough, he sat back on the seat, maneuvered me on his lap and I howled in utter delight as he thrust his huge cock up my ass, followed closely by Sid's cock scudding up my pussy.

They double-fucked me in the back of that limo all the way until we stopped. Then, as their cum oozed out of both my holes, the door opened, and I realized that we were in a secluded park and that the limo driver wanted a blowjob, which I eagerly gave him.

That was the first indication that these two guys could get me to do anything they wanted, with anyone they wanted.

And after the 9-11 disaster, after I started getting wilder and crazier, I fucked at least one of their friends or business clients – sometimes more – every time I traveled to L.A., in addition to fucking them both, either separately or at the same time.

Jim Pearson and Sid Huguet found the key that unlocked the slut in my soul, and there was no better example of that than the pool party they had at Sid's mansion high in the hills overlooking Los Angeles. 

This happened about a year ago, and it was the first time I really started to question what I was doing to myself, and it was the first hint as to the blackness of Sid's soul.

Sometime around the end of 2002, Jim and Sid started taking me to Sid's house for our trysts. I was always a little leery of it, for good reason, as it turned out.

The pool party was the undeniable highlight – or lowlight, depending on how you look at it – of my adulterous career.

It started out like it was just going to be the three of us, spending the day like we often did, having a few drinks, swimming, getting a tan, then going in and fucking like rabbits.

I had a really skimpy bikini that I always wore when I went to Sid's, a black number that only just covered the lower portion of my tits and only just covered my pussy, and left my butt exposed. I always felt so deliciously wicked wearing it that I inevitably came like a rocket when I finally got Jim or Sid's cock – or both of them – up me.

I had had a couple of drinks, taken a swim, dried myself, gotten good and oiled up for some tanning, lain back on a lounge chair, and sunned for a little bit, when I heard the patio door open. I looked through my shades as Jim and Sid sauntered out to the pool totally naked, their cocks swinging freely in front of them.

I felt my pussy swell and start to drool, especially when they knelt on either side of me and began to run their hands all over my oily body. I just laid back and groaned lustfully as their fingers found my tits and my pussy and my ass, not necessarily in that order.

I was on fire with passion as they worked their magic hands all over my hot body, flipping my tits out of the confines of my bikini top and pulling the thong away from my cunt, and I reached down with both of my hands and grasped their burgeoning cocks.

They didn't fool around. Jim lay back on the lounge next to me, rolled me onto my left side, put the head of his cock to my open pussy and slid right on in. He quickly got up to speed in my smoking cunt, while Sid stood up, then knelt slightly on the chair to offer me his cock to suck.

I was on the expressway to a really hard orgasm, when I heard the patio door open again, followed by the gleeful sounds of two other men.

"Wow, will you look at that," one voice said. "Jim said she was a fucking machine, but this..." 

I began to smell a set-up, but with Jim's cock hammering my pussy and Sid's cock packing my throat, I was in no position to object.

Still, I was a little mortified when Jim looked over at them and said through clenched teeth, "you guys can have a crack at her when we're done."

But whatever mortification I might have felt was washed away by the orgasm that was building to a crescendo in my pussy. Jim's cock was working faster and harder in my cunt, Sid's cock was fucking my throat relentlessly and my fingers were strumming my clit as I careened toward a huge climax.

At almost the same time, I felt Jim thrust forward as he shot a thick, wet load of cum deep in my pussy. That did it for me. I crashed over the top with a spine-tingling orgasm, and I cried out lustily as Sid jerked his cock from my mouth and spewed a huge load of cum all over my face.

I was in a little bit of a daze, but I had no time to rest. As Jim and Sid staggered away, I was confronted by two large, athletic-looking men I'd never seen before. But they had nice big hard cocks, and that overrode any worry I might have had about them.

In some part of my mind, I realized that I'd been had, that Sid had set me up for a gangbang, but my body was saying, 'bring'em on."

And that's what they did. 

I laid on my back, cum flowing from my pussy as one man knelt between my legs and slid his big cock up my flooded cunt, while his friend straddled my head and dangled his dong to my mouth. I reached up, grabbed the hard meat, guided it to my mouth, and together they worked my horny, slut body like maestros.

When they finished, I looked up and was stunned to see six more men standing around watching and stroking their hard, naked cocks. They looked like athletes, and I learned later that some of them were old teammates of Jim's and the rest were current members of his former team.

I honestly lost count of how many men fucked me on that hot afternoon by the pool. The first guy in that first group of six rolled me onto my knees and sank a very big cock right up my ass, and I howled in orgasmic delight. Or I did until two more of them pressed their cocks to my mouth. 

I sucked their cocks until they shot on my face, and the other guy came up my ass. Then one of the others who had been waiting slid under me, rolled me onto my back – onto his throbbing hard cock, which he thrust up my ass – followed closely by another of the group, who stuffed his big hard meat into my cunt. 

While those two double-fucked me into orgasmic oblivion, two more men took up position at my face, taking turns fucking my mouth, while two more placed their dicks in my hand and let me jack them off until they covered my hand and my arm with creamy spunk.

Of course, my bikini had long been tossed aside, and I rolled on that chair naked as waves of men took turns fucking every opening I had, along with my tits and my hands. 

For a long time, I came and came and came, until I just couldn't come any more, and still men kept on showing up with hard cocks to fuck me with.

The orgy went on like that until late in the afternoon, when I finally passed out. By then, my pussy and my asshole had been fucked so open you could have driven a train up either one. 

My throat was shredded, my lips were chapped, and I would subsequently have bruises and hickeys come up all over me from being so thoroughly manhandled. 

And I was just about completely covered with cum. My face was dripping with great globs of thick cum, my hair was saturated with cum, I had cum streaks all over my chest, and, of course, I had rivers of cum pouring out of my pussy and my ass.

When I came to, I was alone on the lounge and the summer sun was beginning to sink toward the west. I managed to stagger in to the den, where Jim and Sid looked like the picture of innocence, like nothing had happened.

I just glared at them as I stumbled toward the shower, and I dressed in silence, lost in my thoughts. That day was the first time in my life that I had carried a sexual experience too far. It had gone way beyond the pleasure stage, bordering on abuse.

I felt like I had been run over, literally and figuratively, and as Jim stood outside Sid's house with me, awaiting the arrival of the limo that would take me back to my hotel, I looked over at him with tears welling in my eyes. I felt so used.

"Jim, don't ever do that to me again," I said. 

He just nodded his head, then kissed me like he really cared, before sending me on my way.




Too Great a Temptation Ch. 04



That was the last time I went to Sid's house, and after that I studiously avoided any situation that looked like it might develop into a repeat of the pool party. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done... 

To be continued 



Too Great a Temptation Ch. 05



Howard's story

It was deep in the night, but sleep was eluding me.

I just lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to absorb everything I had learned over the previous three days about my wife, and her incredible illicit sex life.

So many conflicting emotions were doing battle in my mind that fateful Monday night, as I thought about Shelley and what she had done to me, to us, for the past seven years.

I hated her for what she was doing behind my back with a number of people; I loved her because she was still my wife, my partner, the mother of my children and a doting grandmother. I wanted to throw her out of the house for her adultery; I wanted to hold her close and try to understand why she had done this. I wanted to divorce her and let her lovers have her; I wanted to reconcile and work to repair the damage to our marriage.

I had finished going through Shelley's logbooks earlier that evening, tracking her activities through the end of 2004. At the end, the person I saw on those pages was not the woman I had been married to for 31 years.

And, yet, I thought back to her call from Sunday, and the call I had gotten earlier that night, right before I went to bed. She had sounded a little more like herself, more upbeat, more energetic, than she had on Sunday.

But the mere fact that she had called again – making it two nights in a row that she had called me from a business trip – was highly unusual. It's like she sensed that something had profoundly changed in our relationship, and she was trying to desperately reassure me, and maybe herself, that she still loved me.

Whatever the motivation, the upshot was that she would be home the next day. That meant I had to decide how I wanted to treat my discovery.

Did I want to confront her with it immediately? Did I want to wait and gather more information? And the big question was how did I want to treat her physically?

I'm almost ashamed to admit that when I read earlier that Monday in her last logbook about taking on a parade of men at some pool party in California, my cock got hard as a board, and it was all I could do to keep from whipping it out of my pants and jacking off right then and there.

I rarely masturbate any more, but the idea that my Shelley had become nothing but a slut for these men drove me crazy – in every sense of the word.

But as I lay there in bed, I realized that while I had been undeniably aroused by what I'd read, it was only in the abstract. I knew in my gut that I didn't want to actually see it. That would be too painful.

Finally, I realized that I had to think logically, and decide what I was going to do. I got up, fished a beer out of the refrigerator, sat at the kitchen table and thought about the decisions I had to make.

The first thing I decided was to not tip my hand just yet. So I returned the logbooks back to where they had been, trying to put things back like they had been before I discovered them.

As I thought about what I'd read, my cock stiffened, and as I squeezed it, I decided that one of the first things I was going to do when Shelley got home was fuck the hell out of her. I was going to have at least one more time with my hot wife before I cast the fate of our marriage to the winds.

I wanted to try and prove to her that I could give her what she wanted, what she needed, if she'd just give me a chance.

I think that's what hurt as much as anything, the fact that she hadn't bothered to tell me she had a problem with our sex life. She'd just gone out and found other lovers without giving me an opportunity to fix whatever was wrong with me.

And that led to another line of thinking, my role in her adultery. I'm not absolving her of the blame here. She was the one who cheated, and she apparently did so quite willingly. She was the one with the overactive sex drive, which had seemingly driven her to the depths of debauchery.

But I realized that nothing happens in a vacuum. I acknowledged that I had let myself go physically, that I had let our sex life become boring, that I had allowed the passion between us to wane.

I understood that if we were going to rebuild our marriage that I had to make some changes in my life. I needed to learn from Shelley exactly what she wanted from me, and to take whatever steps were necessary to give her what she needed, to be the kind of man she wanted.

Once I got to that point, the rest of it fell into place. I think once I decided that I was going to make changes in my lifestyle, I had subconsciously made the decision that I was going to try to save our marriage.

But I wasn't going to give Shelley a pass. If we were going to stay married, it would be under my conditions.

For one, I wasn't going to continue sharing my wife. She was going to have to recommit herself to me and me only. I felt like I had earned that right through 31 years of being her husband. She was going to have to choose between me and her lovers. Period.

Second, she was probably going to have to quit her job, or at least find another position in the company that didn't involve travel. It had become screamingly obvious from her logbooks that Shelley couldn't say no to temptation. Maybe I was kidding myself, but I believed that if she wasn't alone on the road that she wouldn't be tempted and that she would more than likely remain faithful to me.

Finally – and actually this was the first thing she was going to have to do – she had to go with me for some serious marriage counseling. We both needed some answers from a professional as to the question of why she'd been compelled to cheat on me, plus her willingness to seek help would give me an early gauge as to how serious she was about saving our marriage.

After I got to that point, a real sense of serenity enveloped me, like I knew the important decisions that I needed to make had been made, and that one way or another things were going to come to a resolution. As I did, I thought about Shelley and how we had met.

Her family had moved into the neighborhood around 1968, I guess, when she was 12. Her older brother Richie was a year ahead of me in school, and I had seen her around the pool at the neighborhood club, but I really hadn't taken note of her. She just another skinny little kid.

Her mother and my mother had subsequently become friendly, and they had gotten into a bridge club together. So when my folks hosted a New Year's Eve party at the end of 1970, when I was 16, her parents were invited, and they brought Shelley with them for some reason I don't recall.

As it happened, we were the only teenagers at the party, and we felt terribly out of place. But it wouldn't have mattered. The moment I looked into her big blue eyes, I was hooked.

She had matured a lot from the last time I'd seen her, earlier in the summer. She was still a little gawky, like her body hadn't quite caught up with her height, but she had already developed her looks and personality, and we hit it off like gangbusters.

We spent most of the rest of the party in my room playing albums and talking. I had always been a little shy around the girls my own age, but with Shelley it just seemed like I was always at ease. We could talk about anything, and we always seemed to have common ground.

Apparently I said all the right things, because when I called a couple of days later to see if she wanted to go to the mall with me to see a movie, she accepted quite eagerly.

It's funny, when I think about it now, how we could talk and communicate so well when we were kids, but as adults, we couldn't talk about the one thing that matters more than anything else.

We've been a couple ever since that night, but as she got older and became the knockout she is today, I always felt a little inadequate, especially after I went off to college, while she was still in high school. I knew what some of the boys at our school were like, and I knew Shelley was going to attract attention.

And, of course, now that I had learned that she'd been cheating on me, all of those fears and worries came flooding back. I wondered whether I could ever measure up to her expectations, whether I truly was the man she wanted.

I wondered, too, whether I'd ever be able to trust her again.

I finally went to bed and got a fitful night's sleep, then as soon as I arrived at work that Tuesday morning, I looked in the phone book for a marriage counselor and made an appointment for the following Monday.

That would give us time to discuss any matters that needed discussing between us, and it would set the course for the rest of our lives...





Too Great a Temptation Ch. 05



I was real edgy when I flew back to New York. Something was nagging at me, but I didn't know what. When I finally arrived at the house, I just stopped and gazed for a moment. It was the same old house, but somehow it felt different, more secure. I realized that I had taken a lot of things for granted, and had I risked an awful lot, and for what? Some fleeting sexual gratification?

Howard was already home, with take-out Chinese waiting on the table and a bottle of wine. He seemed to be in good spirits, maybe a little nervous, but I really didn't suspect anything right away.

But he was quite a bit more amorous than usual, and I kind of liked it. He came up behind me as I was rinsing off plates, encircled my chest, with his hands on my tits, and licked and nibbled the back of my neck and up to my ears.

I growled in approval, but I was also a little taken aback. Howard hadn't been that aggressive in years.

"Why don't we forget about the dishes," he said softly, almost urgently.

I wasn't going to argue with him, so I accompanied my husband up the stairs to our bedroom. He turned off the overhead light and left just the bedside lamp on, giving the room a soft glow. He pulled me to him and we kissed, hard and fast. I realized then that his cock was throbbing hard in his jeans.

He took the time to get my dress off, and suddenly I was frantic with desire, my pulse racing and my mind awhirl. I wasn't sure yet what was happening, but I was eager for it. Howard quickly stripped, and his cock stood up straight and hard, with a ball of pre-cum already welling from the tip.

"My goodness, I think someone wants to play," I said.

Howard just looked at me kind of funny and simply bent his head to my chest and began to lick and kiss my tits. His eyes were closed, almost like he was in a dream world, as he feasted on my breasts.

I could feel my arousal starting to spike like it did with Louis or Darrell or Alicia, and quite frankly, I loved it. Remember, I've never stopped loving Howard, and right then I wanted him more than I had in years.

Howard seemed oblivious as he pushed me back onto the bed, knelt in front of me, spread my legs and attacked my pussy with his mouth. He swiped his tongue up my furrow, darted it around my clit and rolled it back down to my now-gushing hole.

"Ummmmm, God, baby, come on and fuck me," I panted.

I was hoping and praying that this wouldn't be like the other times, where he'd get going good then run out of steam. I so wanted this to work, for him to be my true lover.

I slid to the middle of the bed, as Howard took up his position between my legs. He's always been pretty much a missionary position guy, but there's a reason why it's still the most popular position. Face-to-face, chest-to-chest, we locked ourselves together as he slid his iron-hard cock into my pussy.

I pulled him to me and we kissed, like we had that wonderful night back in '72 when he took my virginity and showed me what lust was all about. Yes, at one time Howard had been a real tiger, and I lost myself in the memory of that blessed event.

Howard was fucking me like a madman, with an animal passion I hadn't seen in many, many moons. He was panting and grunting, almost like he was in a state of dementia. I was starting to soar toward a truly wonderful orgasm, hoping, hoping, hoping that Howard could hang on long enough to get me there.

I was just about there when I heard him gasp, and I felt his cock swell as he exploded in a sharp, intense fountain of cum. I could actually feel myself being so profoundly disappointed. I had so much wanted him to come with me.

But my disappointment only lasted a couple of seconds. The moment he finally quit squeezing out secondary bolts of cum deep in my pussy, he did something that completely shocked me. He pulled his cock from me roughly, slid down the bed and buried his face in my overflowing cunt.

My conservative husband sucked and licked up all of his cum from my twitching pussy, something none of my other lovers had ever done for me, for some reason. And it only took about 10 seconds before I was writhing on the bed as a white-hot orgasm burst from my body.

I gasped and moaned, cooed and sighed as Howard brought me to a finish with his lips and his tongue. When I finally couldn't stand any more stimulation on my overheated pussy, I pulled his face from my crotch, and he looked up at me with a wet ring around his mouth and an odd look on his face.

"Wow," I whispered as I pulled him up to me and we snuggled together. "Where did that come from?"

"Oh, here and there," he said softly as he began to drift into sleep.

I was so content to lie there with him that I didn't want to check what I was starting to suspect.

The next day at work, I had to write up a report on what had happened in California, and I chose my words with care.

I said that personal relations between me and the representatives from their company, meaning Sid, had long been tenuous, and that events had conspired that weekend to bring us to the point where it was better if we took our business elsewhere.

When I got home, it was a repeat of the previous night, only not quite as intense. Once again, Howard couldn't quite hold off his orgasm, but again he made up for it by going down on me and getting me off.

Now I knew something was up, and I had this feeling of dread come over me. Suddenly, I knew.

I waited until I thought I heard Howard snoring rhythmically, then I slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the basement, where I kept my logbooks.

At first everything looked like they had when I'd put the 2004 book away at the first of the year. Then, with growing horror, I realized that things had been moved and an attempt had been made to put them back the way they had been.

I fished out the box, and I felt sick to my stomach, because there was no doubt that the books had been pulled out of the box and replaced. I'd kept a little marker between the 2003 and 2004 book so I'd know if they'd been disturbed.

Just then I heard something behind me, and I saw Howard just looking at me, and the look on his face tore me up inside. It was a look of sadness, hurt, anger, pity, disgust, any number of emotions. But not lust. Whatever lust had been fueling him the previous two nights was gone.

I just burst into tears at the implication, and my husband made no move to comfort me. I was on my own. I began to realize then that he hadn't been fucking me the past two nights so much as he'd been fucking some pornographic image of me, the one he'd been reading about.

But when he turned around silently and walked back up the steps, I was galvanized.

"Howard, please, don't push me away," I cried, as I raced up the steps behind him.

I found him sitting at the kitchen table, crying. Men aren't supposed to cry, but Howard had his head buried in his hands and he was sobbing.

I guess he'd held his emotions in check for so long while he read about my exploits, while he'd gone to work acting normal, while fucked me twice in two nights, that when he saw me in the basement like that something cracked.

God! He broke my heart that night, to realize what I had done to this kind, caring man who had only wanted to love me. I stumbled into a chair, and we both sat there and cried, not willing to look at each other.

But finally he got a grip on himself, but not before he stood up and slapped a cabinet door hard, in a rare show of anger.

"Why, Shelley? Why?" he said suddenly, turning to face me for the first time. "Didn't you know I'd do anything in the world for you? Why couldn't you tell me you weren't satisfied?"

I just buried my face in my hands and sobbed some more, and that's when the true Howard came through.

"Come on, it's all right," he said softly, as he pulled me up and held me.

He finally guided me to a sofa in the den, and I laid my head on his shoulder while I told him, as much as I could, why I had cheated on him.

I didn't lie, and I didn't sugarcoat anything. I told him he hadn't been doing it for me sexually for a long time, and that I somehow couldn't bring myself to tell him, because I didn't want to hurt his feelings. I know that sounds lame, but it was all I could think of at the moment.

"You know, if you'd fucked me the way you did last night, the way you did tonight, it's likely none of this would have happened," I said.

I don't know if that was true or not, but I needed something to hang my hat on.

Finally, I stood up and walked unsteadily toward the picture window that overlooks our backyard. It was time to ask him the question I had been rolling over in my mind ever since Howard had seen me hunched over the box containing my logs; the one I'd been dreading.

"Howard?" I said softly as I stared into the darkness. "Do you want a divorce?"

"No, no I really don't," he said, and relief flooded over me. "But we can't go on like we have been, like nothing has happened. And I am prepared to file for a divorce, if nothing changes."

That's when he told me about his conditions, and, honestly, I kind of balked, at least in my mind. At that point, I wasn't sure I wanted to give up the kind of sex I'd come to enjoy with Louis, Darrell and Alicia, and I sure as hell didn't intend to give up my career.

I did make a plea on that front.

"Howard, honey, please don't make me choose," I begged. "Please don't make me. You know how hard I've worked to get where I am. Please?"

He didn't insist, at least not then. In fact, he never insisted that I quit at all. He basically told me that I had some decisions to make about how important our marriage was to me. I did agree to meet with the counselor. I thought that was an excellent idea, and I actually saw him smile at that.

We went to bed again, but it was different. Something had changed. There was a distance between Howard and I, and it was going to take some time for us to get back what we'd had just hours earlier.

I was pretty unproductive the next two days at work, and eventually Bill asked me point blank if I was all right. I was honest; I said things weren't going well at home right then, and I was under a lot of stress.

I was pleasantly surprised when I learned that the counselor Howard had set us up with was a woman. He said he didn't want me to think that the men were ganging up on me.

But Jessica Newton, the counselor, was probably harder on me than a man would have been. If Howard didn't insist that I quit my job for the sake of our marriage, she certainly did. 

She told me in brutally honest terms that I should consider myself unbelievably lucky that Howard was even considering keeping me, that most men who'd been treated as he had wouldn't have even bothered with counseling.

"It shows me how much he still loves you," she said. "The question is, do you still love him enough to do what you know in your heart you have to do?"

And she said that if there was any hope of saving our marriage I HAD to put it ahead of my job, and that probably meant finding work that didn't involve travel.

I still wasn't ready to accept that, but I knew I had to consider it. The truth is, I was so confused, so muddled. My life was falling apart, and I honestly did not know what I wanted. 

This was something new for me. I've always known where I wanted to go in life, what I wanted to do. When I was a teenager, it was to spend the rest of my life with Howard. After college, it was to make a career as a businesswoman. 

And when I became dissatisfied with my sex life, I knew that I wanted to find that sexual nirvana with whomever could get me there. It was that simple.

But now I was like a juggler who has too many balls in the air, or in my case, too many swords. I was about to get diced and sliced unless I stepped back and took the time to really find myself, so I could make the decision that was best for me, for Howard and for our marriage.

At that point, I wasn't sure whether staying married was the right thing, regardless of how much I loved Howard. I still wanted my nuclear strength sex life, still wanted the security of house and husband, still wanted the career, still wanted family.

It was too much. I knew what I had to do. 

The next day, Tuesday, I went to work and the first thing I did was to contact Human Resources and asked about my sick leave. Then I called a friend who was a travel agent and told him what I was looking for, and he called back an hour later with the information I'd requested. I called Howard at the bank and I told him what I had decided to do, then called and made some final arrangements.

When I was finished, I went up to my boss's office and shut the door.

"Bill, things have not been going well for Howard and me," I said. "We're going through a rough stretch, I'm going through an emotional wringer, and I simply can't do this job justice at the moment."

What I had decided was to take the four weeks of vacation I usually took in August, and add it to the five weeks of sick leave I had coming. I wanted to go off by myself for a couple of months to come to some decisions about where I wanted the rest of my life to go. 

I had booked a cabin in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, some place where I could have solitude, away from the job, away from Howard, away from the house, away from the boys and the grandchildren, and away from my lovers. 

The rest of that week was funny. I spent my time at work tying up loose ends, handing off some of my accounts to colleagues and preparing for an extended time away from the office, and it was like some of my friends there suspected what was going on. 

At home, Howard and I seemed to be circling each other. There was a distance growing between us that I didn't like one bit, but I hoped that my time away would rekindle the spark we'd always carried for each other. And if it didn't, then maybe it was time for us to go our separate ways.

At one point, as we lay in bed trying to sleep one night, I looked over at Howard and commented, "We're not going to make it, are we."

"I wouldn't assume that just yet," Howard replied. "It is possible that we won't. I would hate it, because I do love you, and I think you still love me. But we have an awful lot of work to do if we're to survive together. Right now, I don't trust you, and a marriage that doesn't have trust isn't worth 10 cents."

That hurt, but he was right. Hell, I didn't trust myself at that point. One reason I had chosen to go to New Hampshire was that it was far removed from any of my lovers. I didn't want to be close enough to Chicago or Washington or Miami that I was tempted to hop in the car and go visit Louis, Darrell or Alicia.

We finally did talk very candidly the night before I left, after our second meeting with Jessica. Howard asked me directly what I wanted from sex in general and from him in particular. 

Even though I know it pained him, I told him I needed someone that could rattle my bones when he fucked me. I needed someone who could make me come and come again. I needed someone who didn't peter out in the middle of a fuck and someone who didn't just roll over and go to sleep after he came – if he came.

I needed passion, adventure, spontaneity, and I hadn't gotten that from him until those last two times after I got back from California, when he fucked me – or some picture image of me – better than he had in years. That told me that he had it in him to give me what I needed, if he would just work at it.

I left the next day, and I confess to shedding some tears as I drove into the mountains. I was on the cusp of something momentous in my life, where I either redevoted myself to Howard and spent the rest of my life with him, or I forged a new life on my own. And I was, quite frankly, terrified and a little depressed.

Once I got up there, however, the clean air seemed to revitalize me, and honestly, it was the best thing I could have done for myself. Alone, with no one to depend on – and no one depending on me – I had time to think clearly and rationally.

I spent the two months doing a lot of hiking in the country and enjoying nature. I walked every day somewhere and I took drives in the country, just rambling. Howard and I did talk on the phone periodically, and as time went on, I really began to miss him.

I made two trips back to New York, one in late July and the other in mid-August, for meeting with the counselor, and we had some very candid sessions. I did not see Howard then. Jessica wanted to meet with us each alone without the other spouse present.

In my case, she had done a psychological work-up trying to get some insights on what caused the kind of behavior I'd been exhibiting, and it was utterly fascinating.

I learned that I was possibly mildly schizophrenic, with a personality that was able to be a dedicated wife, mother and worker in one setting, and a raving nymphomaniac and uninhibited party girl in another setting.

One thing, too, that came out loud and clear, she said, was that I had this deep-seated desire to be dominated sexually. That made sense, because I knew I had come to love being fucked hard, forcefully. That was one reason why I found myself attracted to powerful, commanding personalities. 

Finally, she told me that there was nothing wrong with freeing my sexual beast, but if I was going to stay married, it could only come out with Howard.

As a result, I spent a lot of time walking around the cabin naked, just reveling in the freedom. The place was secluded enough, with a fenced-in back deck, and I did a lot of sunning naked, getting a nice all-over tan. Of course, I continued to exercise, and I did a lot of it nude. 

As a result, I got very turned on, quite often. And the longer I was up there, the less I thought about Louis, about Darrell, about Alicia, even about Jim and his crowd – and, yes, they still preyed on my mind at times – and the more I thought about Howard. At night, when I lay alone in my bed, it was Howard I thought of, and it was Howard's cock, not the others, that I imagined when I stroked my steaming pussy to some very nice climaxes.

And I did think carefully about things. I knew in my heart what I had to do, and as time went on, I found that it was easier and easier to consider it. I realized how lucky I had been to have a man like Howard, to have two wonderful children and three beautiful grandchildren. 

I talked to my folks a lot, too. I didn't tell them why I had decided to go off by myself, but I think they knew, and it was my dad who finally cinched it for me.

"Shell," he said, in his rough, now-quaking voice. "No one who ever gets to be my age looks back on their life and says, 'I should have spent more time at the office.' You can always find another job with less stress, something that will keep you home. But you may not find another man like Howard. In fact, it's quite likely that you won't."

It was approaching Labor Day weekend, a little over a week before I had to return home, when I called Howard. I told him that I'd come to some decisions, but that I wanted him to come up and spend some time with me in the mountains so I could tell him to his face.

I heard a catch in his voice like I think he thought I had decided to leave him, and I devilishly chose to leave him in the dark.

To say I was stunned when Howard climbed out of his car that Friday afternoon would be an understatement. He had let his hair grow a little bit, he'd shed the starched shirt and slacks of the banker in favor of a denim shirt and blue jeans, and he had lost a considerable amount of weight. He looked great.

We hugged deeply and tightly, and kissed with hot passion, all of the weeks apart spurring us onward. I think just my body language told him what he needed to know. 

"I decided that it was time to get back in shape, so I went to the club and talked to Rudy (the club's fitness director) about a workout regimen," Howard said when I complimented him on his new look. "I did that about an hour after you left. Gotta say, I've never felt better. I've done some other things, too."




Too Great a Temptation Ch. 05



There was a nice little country inn not too far from the cabin where I had become something of a regular, and that's where we went for dinner.

It was like we were when we were in high school; we couldn't keep our hands off each other. I had missed him more than I had expected, and he had missed me just as much, if not more.

He just smiled when I told him what I was going to do; that I was going to take early retirement from the company and pursue something close to home, something that didn't involve travel. He knew I was sacrificing a lot, and he was truly grateful.

I was trembling with desire when we arrived back at the cabin. As soon as we got in the door, Howard pulled me to him and we kissed – deep, hard and long. Our tongues were like duelists as they jousted together. 

As we broke apart, we just stared at each other as our hands quickly unbuttoned each other's shirts. I gasped as Howard's hands softly caressed by tits and squeezed my throbbing, rock-hard nipples.

My hands drifted down to the prominent bulge in his jeans, and I was pleasantly surprised to feel how hard he was. I wanted it, wanted it bad.

In seconds we were standing naked together in the den of the cabin, as the warm rays of the setting sun bathed the room in a sensual glow.

I sat Howard down on the leather sofa and crawled between his legs. I hefted his cock and balls, and ran my hands up the purple shaft. My tongue was right behind, and I licked up the throbbing ridge, around the veiny shaft, up to the sensitive area right under his crown, finally over the mushroom head. 

A thick flow of pre-cum was already flowing, and I stared at it for just a moment, then swiped it up with my tongue. I pressed my attack with my lips, letting them melt over the head and into my mouth.

I don't when I've ever tasted anything more intoxicating, more delicious than Howard's cock right then. It had that familiar funkiness to it that had my pussy gushing with desire. 

I worked my mouth down, taking about two-thirds of his cock, then back up and back down again, letting my husband have the full brunt of my cocksucking expertise. 

After several minutes, I pulled my mouth off Howard's cock and just stared at it. I'd never seen it so hard, so big. It was almost like a ripe plum ready to burst. And, truthfully, I was afraid to keep that up for fear that he'd come too soon.

But Howard was about to surprise me again. He reached behind my head with both hands and pulled me back to his cock, using more force than he ever had before.

"Come on, baby, you can do better than that," he said in a forceful tone of voice. "Suck it, and don't worry about making me come. I've made some changes there, too."

While I sucked eagerly on Howard's cock, he told me that he'd gone to see his physician about erectile dysfunction, and that he had been prescribed Cialis. He'd dropped one earlier in the evening, and it was working like a charm.

I felt a thrill run through my body, and I reached down with one hand to lightly massage my pussy. My juices were flowing freely just at the thought that Howard had swallowed his pride and sought help for his – for our – flagging sex life together.  

It told me that he really cared about me, that he wanted to please me, and that he was willing to do whatever it took to make himself someone who could ring my bell and rattle my bones.

I worked my mouth happily up and down Howard's iron shaft, then pulled my mouth away, bent down and sucked his balls into my mouth, one after the other then both at the same time. My whole body was buzzing with need, and Howard was ready to take where I wanted to go.

He pulled me up and we switched places on the couch. I lay back, spread my legs, ran two fingers through my bubbling labia and told Howard to have some dessert. He grinned and got his whole mouth on my pussy, sucking the pink flesh, then parting the lips with his tongue.

I could feel a powerful orgasm picking up steam as we worked his mouth on my spastic cunt, and the thought galvanized me. I grabbed his hair pulled his face away from my crotch and begged him to please, God, fuck me.

I thought maybe we'd move into the bedroom, where we'd always fucked before, but Howard was full of surprises. He ordered me – ordered me, now – to get on my knees, and I complied eagerly. I knelt on the sofa, with my legs spread, thrust my ass into the air and awaited my first fuck in two months.

Again, I'm not sure what I expected, but what I got was Howard ramming his cock like a pile driver into my velvety cunt. He pushed his hard cock up me so hard it audibly forced the air out of my lungs, and he didn't let up. He gripped my butt cheeks and fucked me hard and fast, the way I liked it.

"You want to get fucked hard, huh?" he growled. "You want to get fucked good, do ya? Well, from now on that's what you're gonna get. Hard, fast and good. You belong to me, woman, and I'm not sharing you with anybody ever again."

Through the orgasmic fog that was veiling my mind, I idly wondered if the pod people had come from Planet X and replaced my husband with some alien. But if that was the case, hey, it worked for me.

Howard was working his cock like a machine in my cunt and my climax was building like a volcano. I felt a soaring joy as I realized that we were going to do it, that Howard was going to make me come. And with a squeal, a long gasp and loud moan, I exploded in a tremendous orgasm.

I twitched and twittered all over Howard's cock, as all of the weeks of deprivation poured out like the juice from my pussy, and Howard never missed a beat. He just kept right on fucking me, hard, fast and steady.

Incredibly, I could feel another climax crashing to a head right behind the first one, and I writhed in ecstasy as it burst through me with incredible power.

And now I could hear Howard beginning to grunt hard, and pant, as he hit the nut strokes. I urged him on with all the power I had left in my voice.

"Oh yeah, baby, come on," I yelled. "Come on, fuck me like a champ, give me that big, beautiful cock. Come on, Howard honey, do it, do it. Come on, fill my slut pussy with your cum! I'm a slut just for you, baby, only for you. Oh, oh, OH!"

I think that's what did it. With a sound something like a snarl, Howard fucked me really fast about six hard strokes, then sank his cock to the hilt and spewed an absolute gusher of cum deep in my twitching hole. Even as I felt his cum fill me to the brim, I could feel another climax working to the surface.

And Howard still wasn't finished, not by a long shot. The second he finally quit shooting cum in me, he wrenched his still semi-hard cock from my gaping pussy, knelt behind me and gave me what had now become his signature. 

He clamped his mouth on my freely flowing pussy and sucked all of his thick, creamy cum from me, and I mean he sucked hard, so he could pull every drop from the deepest part of me. And when he had my pussy reasonably clean, and had swallowed everything I had to give him, he slashed his tongue up and stabbed at my anus.

That was the trigger for me. I shuddered as my third orgasm of the night rippled through my body from the feeling of Howard's tongue working at my asshole. Howard was in a frenzy as he licked my ass, then slipped two fingers in my backside. 

He finger-fucked my ass for a minute or two, getting it nice and gooey, then pulled his hand away and turned me around to face him. Howard had a look of love on his face, but also intensity. He was staking his claim to me, once and for all, and he wanted me to know it.

"You like it up the ass?" he said through clenched teeth. "Well, here, suck on this, get me hard again, and I'll fuck your ass until you beg for mercy. You want to be a slut? Well, you're my slut now, forever and always."

Howard held his cock in his fist, and he pushed it at my face. I opened my mouth to take him in, but first he slid the head all over my face, getting our combined goo all over me. I laughed wickedly at that. My beloved husband was doing me just exactly the way I wanted. He was treating me like a slut, and I loved it.

After a few seconds of rubbing his cock all over my face, he thrust it into my open mouth and I began to suck on it greedily. I wanted him hard as a rock again, so he could fuck my ass, fuck me to oblivion.

It didn't take much before his cock was once again a raging purple monster, and Howard didn't let up. As soon as he was fully hard again, he turned me back around so I was leaning on the sofa and took up his position behind me. But he stopped momentarily.

"Pull you butt open," he commanded. "Show me that hole, show me how much you want me to stick my hard cock in your ass."

I reached back and pulled myself open, giving him as wide a target as possible.

"Ummmmm, yeah, baby," I purred. "Fuck my ass, Howard. Fuck me like a cheap whore. Fuck me like I know you can. Fuck! Just use me, baby."

I felt the wet drizzle as he spit on my open anus, then worked it into my open hole. I needed him to stick it in me hard, the way I liked.

"Please, baby, ram it in my ass hard," I panted. "Don't worry about anything, just get that thing in my ass and fuck me hard!"

And, Jesus, did he. I felt the head of his cock at my rear opening, and suddenly I felt him push his way – hard – into my rectum in one howling thrust.

I screamed and he gasped as his cock plunged as far as it could go in my buttery ass. My butt was high in the air and he was as high on his knees as possible as he got right up to ramming speed within the first few strokes.

I was in heaven as Howard – my man, my husband, the only lover I wanted – fucked me like a jackhammer. I was soaring to yet another powerful orgasm from the feeling of his cock fucking my ass with hard, fast, methodical thrusts.

The moment I reached under my body and found my impossibly swollen clit, I went stone crazy. I felt one of the most powerful climaxes I'd ever experienced race through my body like quicksilver. I quaked and quivered as the orgasm took me along on a tidal wave of passion.

As I flowed straight into another powerful climax, and another one after that, I could hear Howard mumbling some kind of gibberish as his thrusts became harder and jerkier. He was getting close, but I was beyond words. I was in some kind of nether zone where intelligent speech was impossible.

Faster and harder, Howard pumped his cock back and forth in my ass, and I could feel him quicken, when he suddenly ripped his cock from my ass, stood up, spun me around and shot another fountain of cum all up and down my face.

I howled in delight as I felt the hot cum rain on my face. And I showed him, then, that I was right in the same place he was, when I took his cock from his grasp and stuffed it in my mouth. 

I cleaned his slimy, dirty cock of everything that was coating it, then looked up at my love with utter devotion as I slid his cock over my lips and tongue. My face was covered with Howard's cum, and I wore it like a badge of honor.

Howard looked back down at me with a look of satisfaction and triumph, as he pulled me up from the floor and we embraced.

"I love you, Shelley," he whispered. "Always have, always will."

Tears flowed from my eyes as I thought about how close I came to throwing this man away. I buried my face in his shoulder.

"Howard, I am so sorry for all the hurt I've caused you," I said in a quavering voice, when I had composed myself a little bit. "I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. I love you more than you will ever know, and I am truly honored, honored and humbled to know that you love me enough to forgive me for what I've done. Not many men would have."

"Shelley, I'm only going to say this once," he said, as we fell to the sofa together in satisfied exhaustion. "I will never mention what happened, I will never hold it against you, and I will never beat you over the head with it. But you have to know that if you ever cheat on me again, that's it. I've forgiven you once; I won't forgive you twice."

And that's only fair. 

We went to bed, then, and slept with our bodies entwined like snakes. Except for a long hike we took on Sunday – during which time I pulled Howard off the trail and gave him a blowjob – we stayed naked in the cabin and we fucked like teenagers the whole weekend.

He had to drive back on Monday, and I followed the next day, leaving a few days before I was supposed to. I spent the rest of the week drafting my letter of resignation, then presented it to Bill on Friday. I don't think he was surprised at all.

Bill and I talked candidly that afternoon. I told him that I gotten into some things on my travels that I shouldn't have, and that it had all finally caught up with me. I also told him about Sid, and what he had tried to pull on me, and that that was the reason our deal had fallen apart.

Bless his heart, Bill – probably the best boss a person could have – just nodded his head and told me not to beat myself up over it, that I was human and I had made a human mistake.

"The important thing is that you didn't let it defeat you," he said. "You did the right thing."

I don't know if Sid ever followed through on his threat to blackmail me with his pictures, but Bill indicated, without actually saying so, that if he did, the company would stand behind me.

When I went home that afternoon, I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders, and I knew I had made the only decision I could make. I had put my marriage ahead of my job, my husband ahead of my lovers.

It funny how things can turn. Howard is still the same sweet man he's always been, but he's learned that when it comes to sex, I need a man who isn't quite so sweet. So after years of him always trying to keep up with me, now it's the other way around. Now he expects me to be, not just his wife, but his slut. 

And I only hope I can live up to the expectations my Howard has for me, now that he knows I'm his to do with as he pleases...

Finis