Mike and Emma's Tale Book 2
Copyright© 2024 by Melissa Jewels
Chapter 12
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 12 - Marriage is all about discovery, right? For Emma and Mike, that discovery led them to cross a line they never thought they’d approach. They’ve taken the plunge, but now what? Do they go back to their normal routine, pretending it never happened, or keep exploring this strange, exciting path they’ve stumbled onto? How far can love stretch before it breaks?
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic True Story Cuckold Sharing Slut Wife Wife Watching MaleDom Rough Spanking Polygamy/Polyamory Swinging Interracial Black Male White Female White Couple Exhibitionism Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Squirting Tit-Fucking Voyeurism Slow
“Y-You want it, sweetheart? You want me to fill you up?”
For a split second, Emma’s eyes flick to mine. “What ... do you think, honey?” she asks, her voice breathless. “Should he ... finish inside?”
I nod, the response almost involuntary.
She grins, a wicked, sly grin that makes my blood run cold, “Oh, yes, Daddy...” She turns back to Marcus, her eyes gleaming with a mix of lust and a reckless abandon. “Please ... cum inside me ... fill my married pussy with your ... your hot cum...”
He grinds into her a couple more times, hard, fast thrusts that make her cry out. And then, with a low grunt buries himself deep inside her. His hips jerk involuntarily, his ass clenching, his whole body tense with the effort.
“OHHH... YESSSSSS! ... fuck ... right there... ” Emma cries out, her legs tightening around him, pulling him deeper.
His movements still, he holds himself there, impaled deep within her, his cock throbbing, pulsating, a direct line to the core of her pleasure. I can see his balls twitching, a steady rhythm of release, and I’m amazed, frankly. The man is a fucking machine.
Emma whimpers, her breath coming in short gasps that makes my heart pound.
We’d talked about this, Emma and I ... about going bare. We’d agreed it would be okay to skip the condom, that it was a safe day for her.
But hearing her beg for it ... hearing her use those words...
The raw, animalistic hunger in her voice, the way she surrenders so completely to him ... It’s like a drug.
it’s like his cock has unlocked something within her, something wild and untamed, stripping away her inhibitions, her shame.
And the sight of it, this black bull injecting his seed into my wife’s womb...
It’s wrong, it’s sick, it’s everything I should despise.
But God help me ... it’s hot.
And then, just when I think it’s over, I hear it – a soft, obscene spluttering sound.
“Sppphhhht... ”
I watch as a thick, pearly stream of cum bubbles out of her pussy, overflowing, a visceral, disgusting display of his potency. Jesus Christ, the guy’s a fucking geyser.
He groans, his balls twitching as he milks himself dry, determined to empty every last drop into her.
“Feel that, sweetheart?” he rasps, his voice hoarse. “All that cum ... my black cum ... deep inside your white pussy ... filling you...?”
“Yessss!” She moans, her voice a desperate plea. “Ahhh ... God, yessss! Keep filling me, Daddy ... Oohhh ... aghhhh ... yessss ... keep filling me ... your white... slut...”
God, the words she’s using ... the sheer filth of it, they shock me. Even after everything, even after hearing her beg him to fuck her, to call her his slut ... this feels different.
She pulls him down to her, her hands cupping his face, her lips finding his, and they’re kissing again. It’s not a hungry, desperate kiss this time, but something softer, slower.
Their bodies are still joined, his cock buried deep inside her, their lips locked in a silent, languid exchange. Time seems to stand still. The air is thick with the scent of sex, of cum, of their combined arousal, and the silence, broken only by the soft sounds of their breathing, is deafening.
And as I sit there, watching them, I feel a strange, unsettling calm settle over me, a peace that has nothing to do with happiness and everything to do with... acceptance.
They stay like that for a long time, their bodies still connected, the only movement the gentle rise and fall of their chests as their breathing slowly returns to normal.
The silence in the room is thick, heavy, broken only by the sounds of their ragged breathing. Even as their orgasmic throes subside, Marcus’s hips remain still, his cock buried deep inside her. I watch, fascinated and a little disgusted, as his balls continue to twitch, pumping the last drops of his seed into her.
With each spasm, each tiny pulse, Emma whimpers, a soft, contented sound.
“Ungh ... ahhh... ”
It’s... a lot. Of cum.
Then, slowly, he pulls out. A thick rope of semen, a glistening thread of shared indulgence, stretches between them for a heartbeat before snapping. Even half-flaccid, his cock is still impressively large, still dripping with her juices, his cum. I can’t help but wonder... did he take something? Viagra? Cialis?
There’s no way a man his age can stay hard this long naturally, especially after ... all that.
“Ahhh... ”
A soft whimper escapes Emma’s lips as he pulls away, a sound of... disappointment? Like she hasn’t had enough. Like she wants more.
“Whew...” He wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Damn ... nothing like creaming in a good pussy.” He grins at me. “I’m gonna go clean up.”
He disappears into the bathroom, leaving her lying there on the bed, naked, exposed, her body still humming with the aftershocks.
I stare at her, my mind racing. She’s breathing hard, her eyes closed, her body completely relaxed, spent. Her legs are splayed, her pussy a red, swollen mess.
And God, is it a mess.
I get up, moving closer to the bed, needing a better look. I need to see.
Her pussy is gaping, the lips still red and swollen, glistening with a mix of their fluids. A thick, creamy dollop of Marcus’s cum is slowly oozing out, a steady stream that runs down her inner thighs, into the crease of her ass, a tangible, obscene reminder of what’s just happened.
Fresh cum keeps bubbling out of her, a testament to how much he filled her, how thoroughly he fucked her.
It’s the perfect image of a creampied pussy.
It’s... disgusting. And incredibly hot.
I can even see it—his cum, whiter than mine, mixed with her juices, a messy, swirling pool inside her. Thank God for birth control pills.
My brain short-circuits.
I can’t stay still. I’m not even thinking anymore, just ... reacting. My dick, incredibly hard. My blood rushes south. My vision tunnels. Logic ... reason ... it all goes out the window.
I push her legs further apart, my gaze fixed on that gaping hole, the sight of it sending a wave of lust through me. And then, I’m plunging into her, burying myself deep inside her cum-filled pussy, my own cock a desperate, greedy thing.
“Oh!”
I feel his cum, thick and warm, squishing out around my cock as I thrust into her, dribbling onto the sheets.
Emma’s eyes flutter open, a soft smile playing on her lips.
Our eyes meet.
No words are needed.
I start to move.
I lie on the bed, my body a pleasant ache, my mind a hazy blur of sensation. I can’t even summon the energy to move. Marcus ... he... worked me. Wrung me dry, orgasm after orgasm. I’m spent. Completely and utterly spent.
My eyes are closed, but I can hear him, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room.
“Damn ... nothing like creaming in a good pussy ... I’m gonna go clean up.”
He creamed. God, yes. I can feel it, his cum, thick and warm pooling inside me. My pussy is full of it, and I can feel it dribbling out.
A man other than my husband has just filled my pussy with his seed. A man who isn’t Mike.
It’s a thought that should horrify me, that should send me spiraling into a panic of guilt and regret. But I’m too... dazed to care. Too lost in the afterglow to worry about the consequences.
All I can feel is a deep sense of satisfaction, fullness, of sated... emptiness.
It’s a weird paradox, but it’s how I feel.
Then, I feel it. A pressure. A familiar, insistent pressure.
I open my eyes, and there he is. Mike.
He’s there, beside the bed, his gaze fixed on my pussy, his eyes dark with a lust that sends a shiver of pure, unadulterated excitement through me.
That look.
I grin, a slow, languid smile spreading across my lips. I love that look. It makes my heart pound, it turns me on.
He pushes into me, his cock sliding into my wet, yielding pussy, and I moan, a soft, contented sound.
“Mmm ... hi, honey.”
It feels different now, having him inside me after Marcus. The contrast between their sizes, their touches ... it’s... heightened. It’s like my body is more ... sensitive, more aware of every sensation. It doesn’t make sense. And yet...
God, it feels good.
It’s a somewhat of a different kind of pleasure now, not the raw, overwhelming intensity of Marcus, but something more familiar, more ... intimate.
And yet, it’s also more intense somehow, heightened by the memory of what’s just happened, by the lingering presence of another man inside me.
“Ungh ... Mike... ”
I cradle his face, my hands gentle on his cheeks, my fingers tangling in his hair. There’s a raw hunger in his movements, a desperation that I both understand and encourage.
“Fuckkk...”
“Feels ... good, baby?” I murmur, my eyes meeting his.
“You feel ... so ... so... loose.” He pants, his hips bucking, driving himself deeper. “So fucking wet...”
“Well, what can I say?” I purr, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Your friend’s big, black cock stretched me out, honey.”
“Ughhh E-Emmaaa...” he groans, his grip tightening on my hips.
I grin, enjoying the way his body tenses, that raw look that flashes in his eyes.
“I can barely even feel you in there,” I continue, my voice a playful whine.
Though the truth is, the sensation of his cock inside me, after him, is ... exquisite. A different kind of pleasure, a different kind of filling. But god the way it riles him up.
“He ... he came so mmuch inside you...” His voice is rough, and I can feel the pressure of his erection building within me.
“That he did, honey.” I smile, tracing my fingers down his back. “Remember when we talked about...” I tease, my voice a low murmur. “Lucky thing I’m on the pill, right?”
He grunts in response, his hips bucking against mine.
“What if ... what if I wasn’t?” I whisper, my lips close to his ear. “What if...?”
“Ohhhh ughhh ... Emmm... ”
“Imagine ... imagine if I hadn’t been... protected,” I continue, the words a tease. I can’t resist pushing him, knowing how these thoughts, these forbidden scenarios, drive him wild, this uncharted territory we’re exploring.
“Imagine if ... if I was ... you know...” I trail off, letting the unspoken hang in the air.
His thrusts become more erratic and unhinged. I know how much he loves this kind of talk.
“Would you like that, honey?” I purr, nipping at his earlobe. “Would you like to watch him really breed me?”
“Fuck ... Emma ... I’m...”
Mike’s voice is a strained whisper, his body tense, and I know what’s coming. He groans, a low, guttural sound, and then he’s spilling into me, his cum a hot, pulsing flood.
I can’t help but giggle, a giddy, slightly hysterical sound, as I feel his orgasm pulsing inside me, adding to the creamy mess Marcus left behind.
Mike collapses against me, his body heavy, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
We lie there, unmoving, entangled in the aftermath, the sheets twisted around us.
I let out a long, contented sigh, the exhaustion settling in, a pleasant ache in my muscles, a warmth in my core.
My mind is still hazy, still trying to process everything that’s happened. It’s like ... I’m floating, disconnected from reality.
How long we stay like that, I have no idea. But eventually, the need to ... rejoin the real world ... it starts to creep in.
I tap Mike on the back. “Honey,” I murmur, my voice still thick with sleep and sex. “Get up.”
He stirs beside me, then slowly, reluctantly, pulls away.
I push myself up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, my body protesting, every muscle aching. I stretch, and a wave of exhaustion washes over me. I’ve never been this tired.
And then, I feel it.
The wetness between my legs, the sticky residue of their cum, running down my thighs.
“Oh... God.” I giggle again, wiping at my legs with the sheet, a futile attempt to clean up the evidence of our... adventure. “You guys ... both came a lot.”
“Pretty sure that was mostly Marcus.”
I turn and see him looking at me, really looking at me. At my messy hair, my swollen lips, my cum-covered body. I know he loves this. He loves seeing me like this, utterly fucked and completely spent. The look in his eyes ... it’s pure adoration, pure lust. And it makes my heart flutter.
Smiling, I lean in and kiss him, a soft, lingering kiss that takes him by surprise. He kisses me back, his hand coming up to cup my cheek.
When we finally break apart, he looks at me, confused. “What was that for?”
I shrug. “No reason.” I kiss him again, a deeper, more passionate kiss this time. “Just wanted to kiss my man.”
The bewildered look on his face makes me laugh.
“Okay,” I say, standing up and stretching again. “I’m going to hop in the shower. I’m ... a bit of a mess.” I glance down- my hair is a tangle, my skin is sticky with sweat.
“But a beautiful mess,” He grins, his gaze still lingering on my body, a dark, hungry look in his eyes. “Maybe you should just ... stay that way? Just for a little while longer?”
“Tempting...” I admit, “But I really do need to clean up.” I peck him on the lips one last time. “I’ll be a while,” I say with a wink, and then I turn and walk out of the room, leaving him there with his thoughts. And sticky sheets.