Extra Marital Pleasures SeXStoRY

Louise sat in the back of the taxi, largely ignoring the inane ramblings of the driver, providing a few cursory conversational grunts and perfunctory ‘oh really’s?’ to occupy him; her mind was elsewhere, happily trawling the events that had led to this cab ride. She had thought about very little else but the events of tonight, across the two days that she had not been in his presence, every second a blissful agony. She remembered everything all at once, how they had met and their first sexual encounter not two minutes later, but the prime memory was their most recent meet, the transitory, half-hour tête-à-tête that had left both of them clamouring for more of each other and setting up tonight with perfect precision. She still felt the same excitement now that she remembered feeling when Joseph, hew newest and most wonderful friend, had named the day and date and added those magical words: “My wife won’t be home until very late that night.” The cascade of butterflies she always felt when he spoke to her so suggestively span into a tornado within her. He had breathed the fact into her ear at close range in the way he had learned so quickly was a sure fire way to turn her on, speaking slowly, huskily, every word a promise of future fun. She had reached out and clutched his tie then, pulling his handsome face closer, loving the rasping sensation of his immaculately trimmed goatee brushing her pale cheek. Squeezed into the booth in the cocktail bar that had become a frequent post-work hang out spot, she allowed him to nuzzle her neck and plant gentle kisses on her white flesh. The s**ttered patrons of the dark bar paid them no mind. Everyone in here was catching up with friends, drowning their post-work sorrows or, in the case of the more tactile couples, having fun behind somebody’s back. They talked, teased and flirted, no doubt having chosen the place for same reason Louise and Joseph had; it was dark, private and offered sanctuary to those entertaining extra marital dalliances and able to snatch a few scant moments with their new lovers in the ghost-space between finishing work and returning home to their real lives. Over in the corner of the bar, a resident pianist teased a languid jazz tune from the grand piano, providing a melodious soundtrack to the clandestine affairs taking place all around him. “And what do you think we’ll do?” Louise breathed in response to his statement. The bristles of his beard were an opening salvo that heralded the arrival of his lips and he had peppered her throat with tiny pecks before returning to whisper in her ear. “I want to ruin you in the bed I share with my wife.” She had quivered quite involuntarily at the prospect of the taboo concept. Joseph never talked of his wife or the more mundane aspects of the life he seemed so keen to seek solace from. Their relationship had been too short, fast and intense for an over abundance of conversation anyway, and what they did talk about where the things that were mutual loves for them both; rock music, popular culture and sex. Knowing that Joseph was married was a huge part of the thrill for Louise; she was under no illusions that this whole tryst was based almost entirely on lust, on the danger and the passion inherent in the situation. The idea of lying with him in his marital bed made the flutter of excitement within reach a fever pitch. His tailored grey pinstripe suit suited him so well, even though it was a world away from how he had looked during the first meeting: ripped jeans and a tight Rise Against T-shirt, dark with moisture across his toned chest where he had been part of the thronging crowd at the gig. This was Joseph in work mode, fresh from the office, and it was a good look on him. His attention was rapt on her; he looked at her as if surveying a work of art, and she loved how that made her feel. She let his huge, brown eyes hold her in place as he took in her every inch, every buxom curve. She was proud of her full shape, knowing the power it had over the male populace; skinny models had nothing to hang on to and real men craved curvaceous ladies. Today’s attire was her favourite work garb, a grey fitted skirt suit that perfectly showcased her hourglass figure. Her neat peplum jacket cinched her waist and flicked out over her stunning hips. The jacket was held in place with one button over a white blouse with a neckline she had widened with judicious unfastening, ever proud of her large, firm breasts that mesmerised any man lucky enough to gaze upon them. Her makeup up was discreet but brought out the sparkle of her eyes, framed between square, black-framed glasses right out of a secretarial fantasy. He ran a firm and capable hand over her thighs, and down past the hem of the short skirt, stroking the delicate material of her nylon holdups and tickling gently the sweet spot behind her knees that she so adored being attended to. She raised her legs to d**** them over his, her black heels digging gently into the plush booth seating, toes bracing herself against the backrest as his hands sank across her toned calves. They soon began their return journey, slowly delving beneath her skirt and tracing across the dark band of her hold ups before easing onto her flesh and burrowing closer to the flimsy white panties that she had worn especially for their short post-work meet. “I want those beautiful, sweet lips on my cock,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers, a commanding gaze on his face. “I want you to bring me right to the edge than I’m going to spread you out on those sheets where I’ve lain with her for so long and lap away at you until you scream for mercy…” She nodded, breath escaping in harsh rasps. Though she knew nobody in the bar could see them in this booth, she didn’t care enough to make sure. She was in this moment with him, wishing this encounter could prolong itself into eternity rather than the ever-dwindling half hour they had before he had to return to his real life. No time to waste. She slid her cosseted ass across the seat towards his exploring fingers, feeling her own increasing wetness moistening the gusset of her panties and needing his contact. When it came she had to bite her lip to avoid screaming out. His tentative digits stroked the wet outline of her opening labia, teasing the delicate bud at the apex of her secret garden. She couldn’t look away from his enrapturing stare, like a rabbit in blinding headlights. The pad of his thumb attended to her blossoming mound through her panties as his free fingers sought access beyond the gossamer threads. The pianist’s skilful fingers filled the air with a tinkling riff, but he was no match for Joseph’s dextrous talent, rolling the backs of his curled fingers through her shallow wet pool; here he held them, never delving within, denying her, teasing her, all the while making sure she knew how important she was in this dizzying moment by watching her, seeing her, eyes never leaving her. He made her feel beautiful and in return she wanted to tear his trousers from him and descend onto the length she was becoming ever more addicted to… She was still holding his tie and drew him in to kiss her as a sharp, distilled climax swept over her. She feasted hungrily on his lips and pushed her tongue into his smiling mouth, her hushed moans of pleasure lost beneath the ambient piano music. She braced her legs so hard that her heels ripped through the plush seating with a quiet renting of fabric. He kissed her until her orgasm had subsided, and continued beyond, cradling her legs and the small of her back, filling her with a contentment she had almost forgotten. They said very little until it was time for them to part. They finished their drinks, left the bar and went out onto the busy evening street amidst the throng of commuters. With a swift, passionate embrace they went their separate ways, both facing two days without one another and facing the anticipation of a night alone. Still drifting in post-orgasmic bliss, that moment seemed like it would never come. But come it had, and as she paid the driver and stepped out of the cab, Louise was certain her heart was beating louder than the sound of her black heels clicking the concrete on the quiet suburban street. The vehicle slid off and she turned to face his house, a two storey house in a terrace of fine properties. The door was barely ten feet away, so much promise lying beyond it. She had worked out every moment of the evening, plotted everything she was going to do to him like a sprawling erotic novel. First she would treat him, get on her knees and transport him to a world of delights he’d never even contemplated. She strode up to the door and rang the bell. * The story only gets hotter from there, read the full story below: Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Extra-Marital-Pleasures-ebook/dp/B008GMWVLU Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Extra-Marital-Pleasures-ebook/dp/B008GMWVLU More stories at my blog here on Xhamster or at cameronlincoln.wordpress.com