Thump! Thump! Thump!
Our headboard pounded against the wall. Marriages are filled with compromises: my wife Carol wanted a king size bed. I wanted a headboard. I warmed to the king immediately. The headboard has been a different story. Carol loves the look and feel of it. It's just that when I get a good head of steam up, it makes an amazing racket thumping against the wall.
Among other things, Carol is put off by the ancillary sounds of sex; whether bouncing beds (the effect of growing up a floor below actively amorous neighbors), or squeaky bedsprings (a college roommate whose attitude was 'so many men so little time'); Carol literally doesn't want to hear it. When it comes to our thumping headboard, Carol stuffs a pillow between it and the wall to muffle the sound. Unfortunately a thumping headboard is not a problem that we have very often.
It's not that that Carol doesn't like sex; she does, just not much of it. Once or twice a month is plenty enough for her. I consider once or twice a week to be the absolute bare minimum requirement to maintain reasonable marital accord. After seven years together, six married, it's become a major problem in an otherwise strong relationship. During this time we've dropped from my minimum to her maximum, with some pretty tough arguments taking up the slack. We're at a point where Carol simply will not discuss it anymore.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
I could feel that little tingle of impending orgasm. This was going to be one of those huge nut-draining ejaculations. Hell, it had been almost three weeks since I'd last fucked Carol. I thrust harder and the slap slap slap of skin on skin added to the sounds in the bedroom. I love everything about fucking doggy-style: the feeling, the sights and especially the sounds.
If only it was Carol on all fours beneath me.
I was cock deep in our next-door neighbor Sondra. She's a Filipina mail-order bride with the same problem as me only flip flopped; she was lucky if she got her husband interested in sex even once a month. I knew this because Carol mentioned it all the time, encouraging me to be less of a sex maniac (her words) and more like good neighbor Ralph.
As my fingers terrorized her clit, Sondra's scream announced she was coming again; this was orgasm number three for her. She'd come knocking at the back door this morning looking to borrow something. I took one look at her in her little sundress and just snapped. I pulled her inside and dragged her to the bed. I stripped us naked to a chorus of thickly accented protestations. It wasn't until I was licking her nearly hairless cunt that her "no's" turned to "oh's."
"Ah! Ah! Ngghhh" I spurted uncontrollably into Sondra. Even as my ejaculations ceased I couldn't stop thrusting into her. We eventually collapsed across the bed, my cock still in her.
We gulped hungrily for air. I shivered briefly as the sheen of perspiration that covered me cooled. Or maybe it was the shiver of guilt. The full impact of what I had just done slowly dawned on me. I had cheated on my wife and sexually assaulted another woman in doing it. I struggled to find something to say that would make sense of this.