Annabelle comes from the bedroom wringing her hands in front. Luke’s heart thumps at sight of his wife. The little grey skirt she’s wearing looks even shorter than the first time he saw it. It reveals her full thigh gap. She sits up on her stool and Luke doesn’t even need to tilt his head to see her crotch. Her panties are white satin with a pretty lace trim around the edges – the lace extending above the tiny patch of satin and her pink skin visible through it – the top of her slit visible as a slightly darkened indentation. All of this is clearly on display with the tiny skirt stretched taut across her slender thighs and not even covering her bottom, as is apparent in how high the garment has ridden up at the sides.
Luke’s cock has firmed. “What about when you cross your legs – do your panties still show?”
Annabelle nods and crosses her legs to demonstrate. The view is then limited to a small triangle of lace with the indentation of her slit still clearly visible. She uncrosses her legs and rubs down to her knees. “Is this okay?”
Luke swallows hard and nods. He then leans forward and has a look down the front of Annabelle’s blouse. The matching white satin and lace bra is less revealing than the one she modelled the other day. It’s very pretty though, and offers a view of nipple through the lace – the blouse gaping quite a lot with just the one button undone.
“He’s gonna go nuts for you, baby. I mean, I know he will have his hands all over you at some point. I’m expecting that much.”
“Uh huh – me too,” Annabelle utters. “I can’t wait for him to get here now but I’m also too nervous.” She looks around. “I’ve still got two hours to wait. I think I might get changed and go for a jog.”
“Oh okay. Good idea. I’m just gonna get dressed and take off. I’m not going to work today though, so I’ll just take your car, okay?”
“Oh? You’re not working?”
“No, I’m too nervous too, baby. I’m going for a drive down the coast – just get out on the highway and try to chill.”
Annabelle is standing on her front porch when Paul Jamison pulls up in her driveway. She has her trusty favourite cardigan in her hand, strategically covering her bare upper thighs, and she keeps it in place as she hurries to the passenger side of the car. She is there waiting before Paul has had time to get out and open her door. He leans across and does so, beaming a smile as she slips into the soft leather seat – bare against her panty-covered bottom – her cardigan still strategically in place.
“Hi,” she sings cheerily while fastening her seatbelt. “Can we get going, please?”
Paul peers at the house, seemingly looking for her husband’s face in one of the windows, and backs out to zoom off up the street.
Annabelle’s plan is to break the expectation she had given the guy with her texting and the phone call. She needs to backtrack in order to meet the new limitations she has agreed to with her husband. She’s actually quite pleased to do so, feeling as though she had indeed gone too far too fast with this man she hardly knows.
He seems to have picked up on things quickly. After a question or two about why they had to leave so hurriedly he has settled into discussion about the lecture, seeming really quite nervous about it.
Annabelle had brushed his questions about their quick getaway. “Actually, you were right – I was worried about my husband seeing us, but he wasn’t there. I just wanted to be gone before he got back from down the street.”
“Oh, I see. Didn’t wanna be caught in that hot little skirt, huh? It looks every bit as short as you said it would be.”
“Oh this?” Annabelle concedes, blushing, and she folds her cardigan and puts it on the back seat. She has turned to do that and Paul is looking at her crotch.
“Yeah, now that’s much better,” he says. “Ooh that’s nice, Annabelle. That’s sexy.”
“Hmm – I’m glad you think so,” Annabelle utters, plucking a little at her hem but not pulling it down at all. She has her knees together but the seat is deep and they’re slightly raised. She can feel the full depth of her crotch exposed and she can also feel how wet she is. She’s been dripping all morning in anticipation of the man seated beside her. “I like your shirt,” she tells him. It’s a plain green polo shirt contoured to the muscle in his shoulders and chest. The short sleeves are stretched tight around huge biceps.
He gives her a smile then tilts to look at her crotch again. “Those are pretty too. Did you choose them especially for me?”
“Uh huh,” Annabelle utters, her blush rising a little more. She lets the warm tingly feeling wash over her. “I was thinking of you when I bought this skirt and these panties, Paul. I hoped you would like them.”
“Oh, I do,” Paul goes on and tilts for another look. “Fuck yeah.” he groans. “Every guy in the company wants a look up your skirt, Annabelle. You’ve got great legs – fantastic thighs that you never show.” He grins up to meet her eyes. “You’re already wet too.” He tilts for another look. “Can see the shape of your slit – all the way down. Fucking amazing.”
Annabelle takes a breath. “But you’re not allowed to fuck me, okay?”
“No? Sure looks like you want me to.”
“I did but I’ve changed my mind.”
The guy chuckles. “I’ve heard of women doing that.”
“Well, now you’re experiencing it,” Annabelle tosses back. “I brought slacks in case you can’t handle it.” She fishes in her shoulder bag and extracts a pair of black pants. “Would you advise me to put them on?” she asks her smiling driver.
“Might not be a bad idea with Michael around. I think I can handle this lovely view though.” He has another deliberate look at Annabelle’s panties. “So – look but don’t touch, huh?”
Annabelle thinks carefully about how to respond to that. She meets the man’s eyes. “Can I just be open with you, Paul?”
Paul nods. “Of course. Open would be good since I don’t really get what’s happening here. With you being a married woman obviously.” He looks at Annabelle’s left hand and wedding rings, shrugging the question.
“My husband and I are playing a sexy game with each other. I’ve been dressing up a bit and he’s been letting other men see me and enjoy me a little bit.”
“Enjoy you?” Paul questions immediately.
“Yes,” Annabelle answers simply.
“Enjoy you in what way exactly?”
“Um. I don’t really want to give details. Just to a certain level and no more.” Annabelle edges around to be facing Paul. His eyes lower to her crotch again – her knees having parted slightly. “It’s not just teasing with you other men though. My husband’s been letting me go as far as oral sex so far. We’ve just discussed what’s happening and decided to not go any further than that at the moment.”
Paul’s large hand closes over Annabelle’s lower thigh. He glances from the highway. She has closed her eyes and taken a breath, but she opens to find him looking at her face. “I like the idea of oral,” he says. “That’s a fair enough limit.”
Annabelle smiles through her blush and tries not to arch upward too obviously as Paul squeezes a little higher up her thigh. “Although I think it should be something for later – not until after work,” she tells him.
The concentration in his expression relaxes and he smiles again. “So – look but don’t touch until after work, huh? Sounds fair enough too.”
Annabelle places her hand upon his, holding it still while she leans forward and taps on the radio, scanning for a good travel music channel. She finds one and rests back in the soft leather seat, still with her hand upon Paul’s. They have stopped in a line of traffic waiting at road works. He holds her eyes and reaches for her, stroking her face and cupping the back of her head. She closes her eyes and leans into him as he pulls her close. His lips touch hers softly at first. She opens for him and he breathes into her, pressing more firmly and tilting as he deepens the kiss.
Annabelle relaxes into this new man – into the scent and powerful essence of him. She opens wide and caresses his tongue in her mouth. She has a hand clutched to her chest and she slips a button through its hole. She’s now holding his wrist with her other hand. His fingers are spread and pressing close to her crotch. She relaxes her hold and one of them strokes through her slit. He probes deeper with his tongue at the same time. She melts completely into him, allowing him to tilt her head back and move over her. He just softly strokes her pussy and continues taking her mouth. She releases his wrist and clutches his shirt, feeling the ripped definition of his pecs and digging her nails in a bit.
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you like this since the day you started at work, Annabelle.” He has relented and lifted to nuzzle her face and look into her eyes.
“Have you really?” she asks, taking a couple of breaths while she can. “I didn’t think you knew I existed,” she goes on with a giggle into his next soft kiss.
“I know. I’ve gotten into too much trouble in the past misbehaving at work. I’m good at feigning disinterest and professionalism now.” Cars are pulling out and driving around them. Paul’s eyes roll to check out what’s happening up ahead. There’s a green light in the distance. He takes Annabelle’s mouth once more – his kiss still soft but deepening as well. Annabelle can’t help melting into it but squeezes her thighs together as he gropes more firmly between them.
Paul suddenly lifts from her and refastens his seatbelt. He pulls into the passing line of traffic. Annabelle can feel the fabric of her panties creased into her pussy and she discretely fixes them while he isn’t looking. She checks her hair in the vanity mirror on the back of the sun visor, moving her legs around straight and tugging her skirt down a little as she settles.
Paul has a look at her breasts through her open blouse. He boldly reaches across and slips a hand in through the gaping neckline, covering one breast and squeezing it. She claims his wrist again but doesn’t push him away. “It’s supposed to be no touching,” she says with a mock glare.
He thumbs her erect little nipple before extracting his hand. “It’s amazing your husband’s okay with this.”
“He’s an amazing guy,” Annabelle states frankly.
Paul chuckles. “He’s a fucking lucky guy.”
“You usually make your own luck,” Annabelle tosses back with a glance. “You seem pretty lucky too. Bethany is beautiful and she’s really great to work for when she’s around.”
Paul nods. “Plus she’s cool with us both having our fun.”
“Oh? An arrangement?” Annabelle asks with interest. “An open marriage?”
Paul nods some more. “Beth has a couple of steady boyfriends overseas. We don’t hide anything and don’t sleep around too widely. I’ll have to tell her about you, but I could withhold your actual name if you’d prefer?”
“Oh wow. Um – I don’t know. I guess I wouldn’t mind her knowing about me if it’s all above board. Maybe best not to let it get around work otherwise though.”
“Definitely!” Paul agrees. “I’ve not actually slept with anyone else from work either, by the way. Well, not with any other current employee of the company.”
Annabelle smiles. “Well, I’m flattered then.”
Paul glances from the road a few times. “Me too.” He grins. “Can I ask one thing about ‘oral only’?”
“Um. I don’t know. What?”
He glances to check the road then looks back at Annabelle. “Do you swallow?”
Annabelle’s blush rises again and she does a little nod. “Yes I swallow,” she answers softly.
“Good. This will be fun,” Paul says, winking and looking back to the road.
Annabelle turns to watch out her window for a while. She has noticed the size of the package in Paul’s shorts though, and can’t help checking on it from time to time as they chat. It’s not as if he’s obviously erect at all – more so the whole crotch area between his powerful looking thighs is full, making Annabelle imagine both his penis and balls to be quite large. She hopes his balls are of the oversized variety as she glances again while remembering the glory hole from the previous night.
It takes less than an hour on the expressway to reach their destination. The college is right there at the exit. Paul knows his way around and drives right to the door of the admin building that houses his friend’s office.
Annabelle unbuckles and grabs her cardigan from the back seat. Paul checks around. The parking area is quiet. He pulls Annabelle to him and she tilts her head beneath as he presses to her lips. His kiss begins softly. Annabelle relaxes into the guy. She breathes and moans into his mouth as the sensuality of his kiss deepens and his tongue enters her. He’s holding her tight and sits back in his seat, drawing her across and onto his lap. He has her cradled with her face upturned. He strokes her hair and delves into her eyes. Annabelle lifts her chin and opens her mouth as he lowers close again. He only teases her lips though. She opens her eyes again and he’s still staring. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells her.
Annabelle draws a ragged breath and holds it as he takes her mouth again. She’s touching his chest. Her legs are scissored together on the other seat, the gear stick pressing against her groin. She’s lost in the passion and latent power oozing from the man holding her.
Suddenly there’s a knock on the passenger side window. Paul breaks the kiss and looks across with a start, his face quickly relaxing though. “Michael. How are you, man?”
The window lowers. Annabelle buries her head in Paul’s shoulder trying to hide there as the two men chuckle and exchange greetings. “This is Annabelle,” Paul says. “Annabelle – Michael.”
“Hi,” Annabelle squeaks through her full blush. The guy is smiling huge, his eyes all over her. She has her thighs pressed together but her legs are bent up there right in front of him. He gives her a little nod and greets her with wide eyes.
“So, you two are obviously hitting it off,” he comments.
Paul lifts Annabelle’s chin and presses his lips to hers softly. She holds his eyes – the teasing question in them. She frowns a little, unsure about this. He kisses her again but doesn’t try to force the situation, and he opens the door and slips from beneath her, leaving her sitting in the driver’s seat and fixing her clothing and hair.
Annabelle doesn’t know when she’ll get a chance to come back to the car so she takes her shoulder bag with her slacks in it, choosing to carry her cardigan and keep it covering the front of her bare thighs. She’s intensely aware of the amount of leg she’s showing. The skirt she has on is shorter than anything she’s ever worn outdoors before – shorter than anything she’s even worn around her house. She’s being included in chat and being ushered through doorways and along walkways. It seems the destination is the lecture hall where Michael is going to help out by getting Paul to do some practice on projecting his voice.
When they enter the lecture theatre, Michael asks Annabelle to sit at the back. She’s pleased to be hidden in a row of seats but keeps her cardigan steadfastly in place anyway. Michael’s voice booms and fills the theatre. It takes Paul a while to overcome his nerves and get the hang of it. He then proceeds to present the opening of his talk and Michael helps and instructs him through that – the pair of them finishing up laughing and chatting together while Annabelle relaxes in the cool dark of the big open room.
When the first group of students come in and take seats, Annabelle has to decide whether to stay up the back or join the men. She figures there’s no need for her to do anything in regard to Paul’s presentation. She’s only along for the ride – the thought of which makes her smile to herself and drift back to the kisses she has gotten so far.
The lecture theatre slowly fills. It’s quite cold with the air-conditioning, so Annabelle slips on her cardigan. A young guy two rows down from her immediately shifts sideways in his seat and has a look at her. The guy beside him notices and looks back as well. Annabelle’s heart is fluttering as she sits still with her knees not quite touching and the back of her thighs sticky on the wooden seat.
Paul begins delivering his lecture and seems to quickly overcome any nerves. Michael strolls up the aisle and takes a seat near Annabelle, but he chooses the row beneath her and sits one seat to the side turning to smile back at her. His eyes immediately flash to her legs and he blatantly checks out her crotch.
Annabelle’s blush rises instantly, but the way this man is so friendly and buddy-like with Paul has her feeling at ease with him. She shifts a little in her seat, swaying her legs towards him and allowing her knees to stray the tiniest bit apart. The two young guys are looking again but Annabelle keeps her head up and her gaze upon Paul.
Michael turns and has another look. “You’ve done a good job with this, Annabelle. Saved Paul’s arse.”
Annabelle meets his eyes and smiles. “Thanks. It was fun going through his old cases to find something.”
The older man leans across slightly and has another look. Annabelle rubs down her thighs but doesn’t press her knees together just yet.
“So, how long have you and Paul been seeing one another? He wouldn’t say.”
“Um – we’re not really seeing each other,” Annabelle answers.
“Ah okay – just hooking up then?”
“Hmm – I guess.”
The guy holds her eyes for a moment then his gaze slowly travels down her body. “Those are pretty,” he says, glancing back at her face then down to her panties again.
“Thanks.” Annabelle utters.
“You don’t mind me looking?” he goes on easily.
Annabelle gulps and shakes her head. “Except those young guys there are watching you do it.”
Michael turns and the two guys quickly look ahead at Paul speaking. Michael watches him for a moment too, and Paul gives him a tiny head toss to indicate he wants him to come back and help out. Michael turns back to Annabelle with a smile. “Don’t run off with any of these boys – I’m taking you guys to lunch, okay?”
“Okay,” Annabelle agrees cheerily.
The guy stands but leans right over to speak into her rear. “I know just the place for a skirt like that.”
He strides away and Annabelle crosses her legs away from the young guys still craning their necks to get looks at her. Paul and Michael have the theatre full of students enthralled and entertained for the next hour while Annabelle fails to keep her eyes open. She has dozed on and off and only wakes properly when everyone is filing out of the rows of seats and up the aisles to the exits.
Paul comes for her and claims her hand, keeping it within his own as he leads her to the front of the theatre and up several stairs to a staff exit. Michael is held up with a small gathering of students. Paul takes Annabelle out into a dark corridor and takes her into his arms. “Thanks for that – it was actually pretty easy following your script.”
“I’m glad,” Annabelle says, smiling up at the guy. He’s a full head taller than her.
He lowers to her lips and again his kiss is tender and sensual. She willingly opens for him when he deepens the contact and extends his tongue into her mouth. His arms are around her, crushing as he bends her back a little and moves more fully over her. She cuddles to his thick torso and uses her nails on the firm pillows of muscle rippling down his back.
He breaks the kiss and looks into her eyes. She waits with her mouth still open, the corridor and building beyond him a blur. He strokes her face and kisses her again softly. “We have to go to lunch with Michael. I kind of promised we would.”
“I know. That’s fine,” Annabelle agrees and tries to catch his lips as he brushes hers with them.
He grins. “You like being kissed, huh?”
Annabelle bites a lip and nods. “I love it.”
“Yeah? And your husband doesn’t mind?”
“Um – maybe a little. I’m not sure exactly.”
“Ah okay – that’s good. I hope you tell him how much you like my kisses.” Paul teases Annabelle’s parted lips again. “Will you tell him?”
Annabelle nods. “Uh huh, I’ll tell him how much I love your kisses.” She tries to capture another one but Paul pulls back out of her reach. “Plus you can kiss so much better than him,” she says through a sudden blush.
Paul chuckles and takes her lips again, pressing firmly then mashing his mouth over hers as he searches deep with his tongue. Annabelle senses a presence and rolls her eyes aside to see Michael watching from through the open door and down the few stairs. He’s examining her crotch again. He climbs the steps and closes the door behind him, the narrow corridor thrown into semi-darkness.
“Hey, man,” Paul says to him.
“Hey,” Michael echoes and moves close beside Annabelle, looking down at her face. He places a hand upon her belly and strokes her hair from her neck with his other hand. Paul kisses Annabelle’s ear and whispers, “Is this alright?”
Annabelle gulps and sucks in a nervous breath. “Um. I um.” The older man lifts her chin and presses his lips to hers. She’s stunned but responds a little. Paul feels a breast. She gulps again and lifts her head away from Michael. “But just like we talked about,” she says to Paul. “Not um.”
“I know. Just oral,” he breathes into her neck and sucks on her tender skin there – his big hand kneading her breast more firmly now.
Michael touches her chin, turning her to face him, and he covers her mouth with his more insistently. Paul kisses her shoulder and slips her cardigan from her arms, trailing kisses down her back and side as he kneels and lifts her skirt to suck hard on her upper groin. The older man kisses beneath her chin and sucks on her neck. He’s undoing her blouse. He opens it and gropes her breasts while returning his kisses to her neck. Paul lifts one of her legs and shoulders beneath it. Annabelle grabs his head as she rocks back against a wall. Michael pulls up her bra and covers a tit with his mouth. Paul nuzzles her pussy through her panties, pressing with his nose and sniffing deeply to draw the scent she can smell herself right then. He bares his teeth and nips her. Her lower body convulses and she lets out a little squeal. Michael lifts and covers her mouth with his again and Paul stretches aside the crotch of her panties and breathes on her exposed pussy.
Annabelle’s eyes are wide in the near dark but they roll back in her head. She can’t quite identify all the sensations. Her right nipple is being firmly tweaked. There’s the tongue of a man old enough to be her father swirling around hers inside her mouth. She thinks there’s a finger pressing around her clit, parting her folds to isolate it – or it could be the tip of Paul’s nose doing that. It feels like his breath is the thing cooling her down there. The chill is of wetness and air movement and it’s dripping from her pussy down her leg. She can distinctly feel the trail of that dribble now but suddenly it is being licked – the warmth and coarseness of a tongue traveling up her inner thigh, and she shudders a breath into the older man’s mouth as the tongue slices directly through the centre of her opening.
“Aw fuck that’s wet,” Paul groans into her down there, and Annabelle’s belly immediately clenches in mild orgasm. The sudden little climax grips and thumps through her, seemingly urging Paul on, as he parts her folds with a thumb and forefinger then gets in under her to cover her pussy with his mouth and tongue her deep.
“Uhh…hhh…” Annabelle moans and clings to two handfuls of his hair while mashing her gash against his whiskery face. Her peak has passed now though. The tongue inside of her has pushed it deeper into her belly where it’s building with more substance as the two men continue to eat her against a wall.
Annabelle is pleased that the older man has stopped kissing her mouth and is now focused on her breasts. She needs the clear head space to concentrate on what’s happening inside her pussy – a long thick finger has been inserted and is moving in and out. The mouth of the man down there is pressed over her clit and the sensations centred there are a combination of sucking and lashing with a broad or pointed tongue.
The older man’s hand travels down the back of her panties and his bony fingertips probe past her anus and into the base of her vagina. This seems to release a flood of her juices because she suddenly feels a trickle run down past her knee. Those fingertips only ply and tease her open though, while the other finger spearing in and out of her has curled back to massage her G-spot.
The two men work Annabelle relentlessly until her entire body is a mass of nerve endings that explode and have her convulsing and crushing the head in her hands against her pussy. “Uhh…uhh…uhh…” she pants with each contraction deep in her belly and extending the length of her vagina to throb against the fingers now holding firm inside of it.
“That’s it, beautiful – let it go,” the older man breathes into Annabelle’s hair. She has lifted one hand to grip his head as well, holding him still and defending herself against any further stimulation.
Paul moves up her body and presses his wet, tangy mouth over hers. “You ready to suck some cock now?” he groans into her.
“Uh huh,” Annabelle utters. “I’m ready.”
She is lowered by both men with a hand each upon her shoulders. The older man’s cock is long and thin. Paul’s cock is long and thick. Annabelle kisses one head then the other. The men stroke her hair and take turns to pull her forward, thrusting into her mouth as far as her fist will let them.
Annabelle strokes and sucks. She wants to kiss their balls but they’re keeping her head in place and fucking her mouth. She submits and lets them, unable to even let go and feel how big and heavy their sets of balls might be, because she can’t allow either of them to insert too deep. It’s just not something she can imagine doing – to take a cock down her throat. And there’s no way Paul’s would fit anyway.
“Yeah, that’s it.” Paul is the first to lose control. He takes Annabelle’s head in both hands and begins sawing the end of his cock in and out of her. His thrusts grow harder and faster, his bottom flexing and quivering beneath Annabelle’s nails. He suddenly holds firm and tenses – his cock hardening then beginning to pulse, and Annabelle squeezes her eyes shut tight and accepts his semen gushing and flooding her mouth. “Yeah, fucking nice,” he groans and gives another thrust then holds again while the last few spurts empty the over-sized balls Annabelle is now feeling and softly massaging.
She extracts the huge penis from her mouth and kisses her way down to the man’s balls. They’re heavy in her hand. She lifts them gently and moans as she sucks on the left one.
Paul smooths her hair from her face and tilts his head to watch her. “You like them?”
“Yes,” Annabelle tells him. “I love them – they’re so huge.” She peers from one man to the other, their features just distinguishable in the dimness of the corridor. She moves from Paul’s left ball to his right one. It’s sweaty with his musk and a bit too hairy, but she hums softly as she takes the full side of it into her mouth and sucks and massages with her tongue. She then nuzzles them both, allowing them to rest upon her face and over her nose and eyes. “Mmm – I just love the feel of them,” she utters and resumes kissing and licking them. The scent of him is strong underneath at the base of his sac. She nuzzles between his bulging thighs and licks more of his ball sweat, sucking the loose skin then licking her way up the side of his shaft. She lowers it and squeezes, milking a dribble of semen then sucking the head into her mouth. She peers up at the two men again and bobs her head. The older man is stroking his cock. She rolls her eyes to it then peers up at him again.
“Are you ready for another load?” he asks her.
Annabelle releases Paul’s cock and turns to face Michael with her mouth open and her tongue extended in readiness. He snarls and grits his teeth, his hand vibrating on the end of his dick. He shifts forward and positions the head then pushes it down against Annabelle’s tongue and snarls again as his semen spurts in heavy ropes into her mouth.
Annabelle swallows the pool of stringy goo and takes the narrow head of the man’s cock into her mouth and holds it there. She cups his balls. They’re quite small compared to Paul’s. They’re completely hairless though, and smooth and loose in their sac. Michael holds her hair aside as she gets in under him and gathers one of his nuts with her tongue, softly sucking the whole thing into her mouth and crushing her hand between her thighs as the powerful scent of him washes through her.
“That’s it – the other one too,” he encourages her. “Ooh yeah – suck on it,” he snarls. “You fucking love that, don’t you?”
“Uh huh,” Annabelle utters as she lets that ball pop from her mouth. “I love what you men make inside these. I wish I could have it all in my belly instead of having to swallow it.”
“And we wanna pump it into your belly too – don’t worry about that,” Michael says, including Paul with a chuckle.
“Yes – but you can’t. I’m not allowed and it wouldn’t be safe for me anyway.” Annabelle licks the older man’s balls and kisses them, peering up at him watching. “Plus I didn’t know I was going to have to swallow yours as well. I don’t know how I’m gonna explain this to my husband.”
Michael shrugs. “Serves the guy right if he doesn’t satisfy you himself.”
“Don’t say that,” Annabelle protests but has to squeeze her hand between her thighs again as the man’s words flutter in her belly. She kisses her way back up the underside of his cock. She takes the head into her mouth while gazing up at him.
He touches the back of her head and holds her while slowly rocking forward. He does his snarling grin. “Yeah, the husband’s obviously not enough man for her eh, Paul?”
Annabelle’s blush rises and she clamps her thighs tighter while her fingertips slip inside. She bobs back and forth, sucking the resurgent cock in her mouth.
“I say he’s a good guy though – letting us play with his wife,” Paul tells his friend. “Maybe not quite man enough but. Lucky us!”
Michael chuckles, the hand on the back of Annabelle’s head relaxing and he strokes her hair. “I need an hour to build up again, okay?”
Annabelle takes his fully erect cock from her mouth and squeezes against the flex of the shaft. She swallows and takes a breath. “Okay, but don’t make fun of my husband,” she utters and tilts beneath to kiss his balls again. She licks between and all around them, letting them roll over her nose and face while drawing the heady scent of such a mature man into her senses.
Michael continues stroking her hair while she nuzzles and smooches. “Alright, no more making fun of your hubby, but only if you promise not to cross your legs at this bar we’re going to for lunch.”
Annabelle glares up, stopping what she’s doing. “What bar?” Both men give a little chuckle. Paul takes her hand and helps her to stand. She pulls her bra down from where it’s still scrunched above her breasts and fixes it into place. “Well, is there a bathroom where I can freshen up and fix my makeup at least?”
Paul puts an arm around her as they walk. She cuddles to his side and he lowers his arm and takes her hand again instead, keeping hold of it until they have traversed several long corridors and Michael ushers her towards a ladies room.
Luke is sitting in Annabelle’s little Honda staring out at the calm blue ocean. He’s two hours from home, having gotten on the expressway south and driven in a daze all morning. He fights off the thought of his beautiful wife with the huge, muscular man pictured in his mind. He hasn’t been able to dispel the images of him enjoying the view up her tiny skirt and down her blouse – right there beside him in the car.
Luke manages to stave off the churning in his gut long enough to force down a meat pie and can of lemonade for lunch. He then spins the car around and spends another two hours in a daze driving home.
His heart is in his throat as he turns the corner into his street, but there is no car in his driveway. The next thing newly wrenching his gut is whether or not Annabelle is home. It’s almost three, and if she’s not already back she would be due anytime.
Luke locks her car away and glares through the kitchen window as he approaches the back door. There’s no movement in the house that he can detect. The door is locked – his heart slipping from his throat with a pulse of relief. He doesn’t want his wife to still be with this other man, but facing her afterward is going to be even harder to take.
The house is in silence. Luke walks to the sewing room and bedroom then checks to find the front door also still locked. He huffs a calming breath, his shoulders slumping, his heart rate slowing. He rushes back to the bedroom and finds the phone he had left behind that morning. There’s a text. His heart pounds in his chest again.
Annabelle: Oh my god Luke. Everyone can see up my skirt.
There’s a file attachment. Luke fumbles at the screen and opens an image of Annabelle sitting in a deep couch cuddled up to the man in Luke’s imagination. He has his arm around her and is grinning for the camera. His arm is massive – his bicep stretching his shirt sleeve. His other arm is resting across his lap, and with that hand he’s intertwining fingers with Annabelle. His other hand is wrapped around her hip with the tips of his fingers touching the exposed skin of her upper-thigh. Her knees are only slightly apart but the seat is low to the floor and there’s a full view of the white crotch of her panties. There’s a table with drinks and baskets of food in front, and the photo has been taken from the back of another couch opposite.
The calculation that the friend of this big dude must be taking the photo throbs through Luke’s chest. He swipes the screen for another picture but there’s only the one. He expands it but that makes it too hard to see on the tiny screen. He emails it to himself and gets it up on his computer screen.
Annabelle’s face is alight with a big toothy smile for the camera – seemingly oblivious to how this image is right then crushing Luke’s heart.
Luke slumps back in his office chair gripping his hair. He takes a few deep breaths then suddenly thinks to check the time of the text. It’s registered at 1:15. “Two hours ago.” he mutters aloud. His anguish is subsiding now – the shock of the visual wearing off. He argues with himself that nothing in the photo shows anything other than what he was expecting to happen – other than the intertwined fingers, but he knows how his wife is. She’s always wanting to hold hands, cuddle and kiss. She’s very affectionate in that simple way and never waits for Luke to initiate that kind of intimacy. Seeing her giving that particular brand of sweetness to another man still hurts though.
Luke checks the time again to see five minutes have passed. He leaves the computer on and strides back to the living room to peep through blinds and check the driveway. He slumps on the lounge and addresses his phone to type a message in reply. He stares at the screen, reading Annabelle’s message over and over.
Luke: I love you baby.
He clicks send and immediately wishes he could pull the message back, knowing he sounds desperate. And desperate is exactly how he feels. He gets up and checks the driveway again: Lunch was two hours ago and it’s only a one hour drive. The guy they’re with is probably only on a lunch break from his work. They should be back any minute.
Luke has his phone clutched in his sweaty fist as he stands there staring at the driveway and street. He checks his phone again after a few minutes, unable to imagine why Annabelle wouldn’t at least text a reply: She must be sitting in the guy’s car with him driving. How could she not be able to text or just call?
Luke stands there staring out the window for a long time before temporarily giving up and going to sit at the breakfast counter – his hands supporting his head as the image of them parked somewhere churns through his mind now. He can see the kissing and groping. He can see the guy fucking Annabelle in his back seat. He can’t stand the image any longer and kicks open the back door and storms into his garage. He has a speed ball and punching bag. He launches into the bag and thumps the hell out of it until he collapses exhausted on his back on the floor.
Luke lies there for a while sucking in breaths and staring up at the exposed timber beams above him. His knuckles are stinging. They’re raw, speckling blood. He gets up and finds some rag to wrap them then he starts with the speed ball. Luke boxed all through school and won a few medals at state level competition. He imagines being able to actually handle a man almost twice his size and punches the fuck out of this lawyer dude in his imagination.
Completely exhausted and somehow sated, Luke starts hitting pool balls around his table, planning to not even go inside when his wife does show up: He’ll be out here doing what he usually does most afternoons, not desperate at all.
The distraction of the pool game lasts ten minutes or so. Luke checks the house but there’s still no movement. He takes his phone from his pocket. Nothing. He goes back inside and to the living room window, standing there for another excruciating twenty minutes before scrolling for his wife’s number and calling her.
Annabelle’s phone diverts to voicemail immediately. Luke’s bursting heart implodes. He’s suddenly numb. He walks to the bedroom and falls back on the bed, pulling Annabelle’s pillow to his face and smelling her. He closes his eyes and relives their lives together, the notion of sharing his beautiful wife with other men completely absurd and utterly gut wrenching. His phone buzzes with a text and he lifts bolt upright and paws at the screen…………..
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