Chapter 2

Anders slowly opens his eyes and blinks a couple times, trying to clear the sleepiness away. When that doesn’t help, he rubs his eyes with his fingers, groaning slightly. When his vision clears, he is surprised to be looking at the garage door to his house.

“What the fuck?” he says out loud. Somehow Anders is in his car, fully clothed and sitting outside his house. He doesn’t remember a second of getting dressed or driving. Immediately he begins to wonder if anything actually happened tonight.

Slowly, Anders climbs out of the car. All the lights in the house are off. He looks at his watch seeing that it is late. So late in fact that somehow he lost about four hours of his life. His wife, Janelle, is certainly going to be pissed that he is home so late. So he takes a steadying breath and heads to the door. Quietly, he unlocks the door, slips inside and locks it again. The house is nearly covered in complete darkness, except for the light from the moon slipping through the windows.

Softly, Anders slips through the living room, down the hall and to the bedroom he shares with his wife. His heart is thudding hard in his chest. The man is still unsure if what happened tonight even happened, but if it did ... Anders feels much like the night he fucked both Ashley and Mela—like a scumbag, a guilty, cheating scumbag.

He turns the knob and pushes the door open just a crack. It is darker in the room, but it doesn’t take long for his eyes to adjust. Lying in the bed is Janelle, sleeping soundly and oblivious to him coming home so late. Anders takes a moment to consider joining her in bed, but the trouble is that she can be a light sleeper at times. There is a chance that he’ll be able to slip in unnoticed and then there a chance he won’t. Of course if she wakes up and starts questioning him, what would his excuse be? He certainly can’t say he lost a few hours and doesn’t know how he got home.

A smile forms on his face. He could say he came home and must have fallen asleep in the car. It wouldn’t be a far stretch of the truth, because maybe that is what happened. Then the events with Mela would have just been a dream and he didn’t cheat on Janelle a second time. He shakes his head. Anders isn’t too sure he’d believe that story himself. So instead of sneaking in to bed, he closes the door and slips back down the hallway to the living room. A shower would be great, but he needs to take a moment to think. So after settling on the couch, Anders closes his eyes, trying to clear his mind and start from the beginning.

“Do you mind if I join you?” a familiar voice says.

Anders’ eyes shoot open and he half sits up at the voice. He doesn’t know how she got in his house. He didn’t hear the door open, plus it is locked. Yet there she is, standing right in front of him, naked as the day she was born. “Um...” he says twisting around enough to look down the hall to see the bedroom door shut tight. “Sure.”

Though he is sitting in the dark, there is just enough light coming in through the window from the moon to illuminate her. Anders takes in her curves, her hips and belly, her waist and the swell of her breasts. But there is something different, and maybe it is just the lighting, but her hair doesn’t look brown like it did the night her met her, nor tonight. It’s more a gray or even black color. Of course! That would explain tonight. I didn’t see her. I dreamt the whole thing! Relieved that he finally has an answer, his thoughts go back to that first night and Anders feels his cock rising. He glances back down the hall again, afraid that at any moment his wife will come out. When he looks back, Mela is laying on the coffee table, flat on her belly, a foot away!

“I bet your wife is a heavy sleeper,” she says, arching her eyebrow up as she looks in the direction of the bedroom.

Anders shifts. He can’t help but look down her back to the swell of her ass. “She can be,” he mumbles. “It depends on how tired she is.”

“Well, I don’t think she’ll wake up,” Mela says. “It gives you and I more time together.”

“Yeah,” he sighs.

“You don’t mind me being here, do you?” she asks, settling her head onto her folded arms.

“I, um...” he stammers. He looks down to see the graceful lines of her back, the notches of her spine as they head downward. He can see her taut, firm ass, the perfect rounds of her cheeks, and the tight cleft between them. He can see the way her body pinches I at her waist, the way it flares out over her hips before tapering back into her long legs. Her skin looks smooth, one solid color all over, as if she either tans all at once or not at all. He stifles a groans as his prick reacts to her, his gazing at her gorgeous ass. “Did I see you earlier tonight?”

“Did you?” she asks a little too innocently.

“If we did, your hair looked different,” Anders tells her.

“Hmm,” Mela purrs. “I’m not really into dying my hair.”

“Does it feel hot in here to you?” Anders asks, suddenly feeling stuffy.

“I don’t think so,” Mela murmurs.

Anders can see beads of perspiration forming on her back. He watches as one appears on her shoulder, and then runs slowly onto her back and down her side. She wiggles, making her head more comfortable, her eyes never leaving the man. As she moves, she lifts herself up a little, just long enough for Anders to catch a glimpse of her full breast. Then his eyes are travelling down her back again, watching another bead of sweat, this one traversing down the line of her spine. His cock is painfully hard now, squashes between his thigh and pants. He can’t keep his eyes off her and he certainly can’t help himself from reaching out to her.

Wiggling closer to the edge of the couch, Anders reaches out to trace a line down her back with his finger. He runs it up and down, watching as Mela shivers with pleasure at his touch. He reaches up to the side of her neck, running his fingers down her back, reaching lower—reaching toward the tight cleft between her perfectly rounded cheeks. Mela sighs, wiggling her ass as the man’s fingers reach lower and lower each time they migrate down.

Twisting his body around, Anders reaches over to Mela’s ass, her back forgotten for the moment. Her eyes are now closed, a faint smile on her face as she is resting back down on her arms. Her back arches slightly as she pushes her ass up to meet his hands. Anders slides the flat of his hand over one cheek, and then the other. Her legs move apart when she slides his hand between them, rubbing a fingertip across her tight, puckered hole.

Mela groans as he cups her cunt. Her juices flow steadily into his hand. And then he is inside her, one finger then two. Instantly, the woman is pushing back to meet the gentle thrust of his fingers. Her breathing is ragged suddenly. Her eyes spring open to watch him climb from the couch and strip. With his cock free, it bobs up and down before both of them. Then he is dropping to his knees beside her, his fingers sliding right back in to where there were.

Mela’s face is flushed now with desire. While Anders kneels by her side with his fingers fucking her hot and willing pussy, his rigid member juts out, seeking attention. His eyes are locked with hers and he reaches for it to begin stroking it. He feels her cunt tightening around him with every thrust. Mela sighs and wiggles, her ass lifting into the air to push against him. Anders moves faster. One hand a blur along his erection, the other fingering her deeply. The woman whimpers when her orgasm approaches. Her breathing becomes harsh. Then she is crying out, almost sobbing with pleasure the moment her climax washes through her. Anders is instantly afraid that his wife may hear her and tries to pull away, to at least prepare a defense should that bedroom door suddenly swing open. But the woman on the table clenches her thighs together, capturing his fingers deep inside her. His hand crushes between her strong legs and there is nothing he can do about it or his fear.

The door to the bedroom never opens, Janelle never comes out. Mela’s body does relax though when the pleasure has run its course. Then she sags against the table and relaxes. Her eyes are open and she is starring at his prick. “Keep stroking,” she demands. “Your wife isn’t going to catch us. Stroke that wonderful piece of meat.”

Anders looks back down the hallway. Fuck it. I get caught, I get caught. He rises up on his knees beside the woman that he is willing to end his marriage over, the woman he already dreamt of once tonight. He picks up stroking where he left off, working his length frantically. His cum boils in his balls and he barely holds back the cry that threatens to erupt like his cock does. The first thick jet flies out and splatters on the floor on the other side of Mela, but then her hand is on his hip, twisting him toward her. The next spurts hit their mark, her face and neck.

Anders settles back against the couch, dropping fully onto the floor. Mela rolls to her back, somehow managing to not fall off the table. Her fingers go to her neck and face to play in the warm, sticky fluid before being scooped greedily into her mouth. In that time, Anders drinks in her nakedness—the sight of her taut belly, her full, firm breasts with their wide, dark nipples. She turns her head and beckons him to her with a curving finger, come hither.

Anders does as commanded and only hesitates for a brief moment before leaning in to those cum covered lips. They are soft and moist and taste pleasant. He feels her tongue flick against his lips, then sliding over them, coating them. Their tongues catch each other and then dance across one another when their lips press together. A hand moves between them, reaching for Anders’ cock. Mela gasps against his mouth, feeling him hardening again already. This is not something that happens with his wife, at least not for a number of years. He in turn reaches for her, cupping one breast and then the other, rubbing her nipples with his thumbs.