Hi Folks, First off a warning. This is a very long story so those of you with short attention spans might want to pass this one by. I haven't done a long one in a while and this one felt good. Those of you who don't really like long stories should realize that you read them all the time. Any time you read one of those three part stories that have five pages in each part you've done it. The only difference is that I don't believe in making you wait three weeks to get to the ending. You can however read part of the story and spread it out over the course of a week or so. Or as I said just wait until next week for a shorter one ... Maybe. Anyway, thanks as ususual to Mikothebaby for her editing skill and for helping along with some help from AK86 to really shape the story. I had a very different ending in mind and at least one scene that grossed both of them out. Any way get out the popcorn and settle down in front of the fireplace, here we go.SS06
My mind wandered as I looked into the eyes of the attractive, exotic young man above me. It was a strange time to be thinking about other things. His tanned skin and exotic eyes alone should have been enough to keep my interest, but it somehow wasn't the case. As his sweat dripped down onto me and my body finally began to respond, I was imagining another face.
I stifled a laugh and Stephen thought that it had something to do with what we were doing. Alone in my own little world, I zoned out on the other face in my mind. The laugh had come from the irony of the situation. I must be the only woman in the world who, while being fucked by a twenty four year old medical student from India, imagines the face of her own forty five year old husband.
"Oh, shit," Stephen moaned. His voice was high pitched and with the stress of him attempting to stave off and intensify his pleasure, it sounded almost feminine.
My own body was beginning to signal its own impending climax. I felt a tingle in my vaginal area. At my age, and with the amount of experience I'd gathered over the years, I knew that it wouldn't be a very big one.
Yet, any orgasm at all was better than none. Stephen was getting close to the point of no return. His face lost a lot of its attractiveness with his features scrunched together with his attempts not to cum before I did.
Again, through all of his grunting and slamming his pelvis into mine, I was distracted. I kept thinking back to those frenzied first days of my courtship with my husband, when we would have sex, whenever and wherever we could.
We did it in cars, bathrooms, darkened theaters and wherever we could have even a few moments of at least semi-privacy.
I smiled as my mind went back to those times before my daughter was born. She's old enough that I'm sure she's doing this with someone herself, I thought. Then I laughed again thinking about that. I may have carried her in my womb, but she was Blake's daughter through and through.
There, I'd done it. I'd gone and ruined everything. Just my mental mentioning of my husband's name and the guilt over what I was doing, threatened to overwhelm me. That guilt that I'd thought I had long since banished, manifested itself as a lump in my throat and a sudden darkening of my features that Stephen misread as even more lust.
Even months into our relationship, surprisingly, Stephen had no idea of what motivated me or how I actually felt about anything. But realistically, there was, no matter how I tried to spin it, no emotional connection between us.
I guess I wanted to imagine myself as a timeless beauty that had enthralled him to the point where he'd do anything for me. I wanted to believe that our love would span the decades between our ages and our differences wouldn't matter. But it was hard to do when I didn't love him and I was sure he didn't love me.
In reality, he probably thought that I was just some old woman who let him fuck her. I was also rich enough that I could help to subsidize a starving medical student without it causing me any financial strain.
The guilt came back as I realized that even the money I gave him wasn't something I earned. My husband provided a very good standard of living for his family. So, in actuality, he was paying for this young man to fuck me. I felt bad about that.
It was a terrible thing to do to a man who loved me so much. But I didn't feel bad enough to stop doing it. Stephen was probably my third or fourth of these summer flings. They didn't really mean anything to me. They were really just a way for me to pass the time.
Stephen was winding down. It wasn't that he lacked in aerobic fitness. After all, he'd been humping away at me for over thirty minutes. I guess it probably could have been decent sex if I'd actually let myself get into it.
The problem was, that as good as it could have been; it was only sex. For all of Stephen's youthful exuberance, our connection was only physical. The more important emotional link just wasn't there. Surprisingly, I could only feel that type of connection with the man who owned me body and soul.
Blake had earned the right to do anything he wanted with any part of my body. He had loved me and lived with me before the man plunging his dick into my pussy had even been born. His sperm had knocked me up before Stephen could walk or talk.
Blake had cared for me when I was sick and been with me through thick and thin for over twenty years. I love Blake, he's everything to me. Unfortunately, Blake is so concerned with his career that he doesn't understand that we've been drifting apart.
In fact, it's been more than a year since he made love to me. That was what I was thinking about as Stephen jumped and pumped away atop me. Blake, though very gentle with me, got deeper inside of both my body and my mind. It was as if my entire body was aroused instead of just my pussy.
Everything I did with Blake was purely involuntary. I could always feel myself just opening up to accept his seed. My pussy pulsed and fluttered when he came inside me. My breasts expanded and pulsed and my nipples got so much longer and fatter that they hurt.
Thinking about Blake even now sped up my heart beat and started my hips to moving. Naturally, Stephen thought he'd done it. "That's it baby. Throw that pussy at me," he growled. "I'm gonna make you cum so hard."
I looked at my watch and realized that I needed to hurry up or I'd be late for lunch.
I wrapped my legs around Stephen's waist and started rubbing his back. "Oh fuck baby," he said. "That feels so fucking good."
Stephen clutched at my large breasts and started sucking on them as he pumped his semen into me. He started moaning uncontrollably as he shot.
His warm sperm coating my insides reminded me again of Blake and depressed me even more. All of my desire faded. To avoid a nasty scene and hours of recrimination that I had no time for, I moaned loudly and let my legs flail for a moment. I looked into Stephen's beautiful eyes and sighed as I noticed that they were mere pools of vacant darkness.
I felt another pang of guilt as I realized that even though he had spent himself in my body, there was truly no love written there. Even as he prepared to speak, I wondered how much longer we could sustain this pretense that our relationship meant anything.
To him, again, I was just some older woman he fucked for occasional monetary gifts. To be truthful, it wasn't always money. I'd sometimes paid for books, tuition, food and even a stethoscope. I think he liked it better when I bought him something he needed instead of just giving him cash. I think giving him money made him feel like he was a whore.
On my part, he was just a living vibrator. I used him to provide the pleasure I wasn't getting from Blake. I guess using him was a form of cowardice. Instead of confronting Blake and getting him to talk about the problems in our marriage, it was easier to get at least some semblance of what I needed from Stephen.
Stephen rolled off of me and lay down beside me. He reached out a hand onto my tummy. It was a lover's gesture. I thought it was nice until I remembered where it had come from. I'd placed his hand there after he'd had me the first few times. I smiled as I thought about it and mentally compare him to training a puppy. He wasn't doing it because he wanted to. It was a conditioned response. He wanted something from me and he thought that touching my expanding waist would make me happy.
I'd gotten the gesture from Blake. He always loved touching me all over when we were done. He continued doing it until he was ready to have me again. Every part of my body meant something to him. He would spoon against me and rub or stroke every part of me until I cried out for him and begged him to take me again.
Stephen, on the other hand, was simply reaching out from across the bed and touching my tummy. It was almost like since he'd gotten some pussy, he was sick of me and wanted to be away from me until he wanted some more. On the other hand, he needed to be nice to me to make sure he got something and also to make sure he would be back for a return visit. We were both pathetic.
Now was the awkward stage that, with my husband, would have been the best part. Right now Blake and I would be basking in the afterglow and thinking about how much we loved each other. Instead of that, I smiled as I watched Stephen squirm. An old joke says that eternity is the time between when a man cums and the woman leaves. Stephen was suffering for an eternity at that moment. And to be truthful, a part of me enjoyed watching him suffer.
.... There is more of this story ...