American Cousin
Chapter 1: American Cousin

Copyright© 2014 by Amadeus

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1: American Cousin - A visiting American takes liberties with the host's wife.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   True Story   Cheating   Petting   Voyeurism   Workplace  

Sitting there at the kitchen table in the fading afternoon light, she found that the pain was still there as she re-read the tattered, edge-worn note written in that familiar feminine hand-writing:

"Oh Gerald, I know I shouldn't write this but I really want you o know how good you make me feel. I'll send this to you at work but you already know that if you've just got it. Silly me. That's your fault isn't it. What did you say you'd do? Ride me silly? Oh boy I think you did that for sure. And you know it too don't you.

I hope you're looking forward to this Saturday as much as I am. We might even make it to the bed this time. So you liked my black stockings then. I might wear them again. But only if you promise to control yourself. Is reading this making you as horny as writing it is making me? I'd love to think you were sitting there at work with your prick all hard and you feeling so horny you want to pull it. Save it for Saturday. I want all your lovely hot spunk.

I wasn't lying when I told you I'd never seen so much spunk before. You're a right horny one. They say it's always the quiet ones you should look out for. You weren't quiet yesterday were you. I loved it when you were saying such dirty things to me. You have a dirty tongue on you. You were right. I did need a good hard riding. And you gave it to me too. Oh Gerald I miss you. I miss your lovely prick up me. Are you hard now? Poor baby. If I was there I'd be under your desk giving you a good hard sucking. I'd probably choke on all that spunk. Don't worry. I'd drink every drop. I wouldn't want to ruin your suit. Or maybe you'd have me over the desk. A good hard ride right now would give us both an appetite for lunch. Another ruined pair of stockings would be a small price to pay for such a good time. You and your spunk!! Spunky Ger I think I'll call you from now on. Well you save it all up for Saturday. I wish it would hurry up and get here. Just think. A whole day? What will we do to pass all that time? I'm sure we'll come up with something. Kisses and miss you and your lovely hard prick.

Janet"

Valerie folded the letter and put it once more into a small compartment in her bag. She didn't know why she'd kept it. It was a painful reminder of an affair her husband had had some years ago. An affair that was long over. It had been a rocky time, but now their marriage was strong again. Still she found herself reading the letter sometimes when she was alone. It no longer roused strong feelings in her but she could never bring herself to throw it away. She got up and made coffee. It was after 5 PM. Her husband would be home soon.

Almost on cue he turned the key and entered. He started talking - immediately -- a long outpouring.

"Val, I should have called, but it happened so suddenly. Mister Williams called me into the office to meet a chap from our US parent company"

"Relax and tell me" she said as she handed him his coffee. She bristled inwardly to hear him refer to his boss as Mister but she let it pass.

"Anyway he's over here for two weeks and they asked me to recommend a good hotel and as I was telling them Mister Williams just said to me "didn't you used to take in guests?" and I said 'yes, but not in some time/' and the damn Yank started saying he hated the formality of hotels and would be much more comfortable in a guesthouse and well, before I knew what I was doing I was inviting him to stay here"

"What?" Valerie was stunned. "You can un-invite him. Let him go somewhere else"

"You know how yanks are. He was fucking impossible to put off and before I knew it he was getting in the car." Her husband explained.

"You mean he's here? NOW? " Valerie said, alarmed.

"Yes" her husband bowed his head. "Waiting outside."

"Well you better invite him in then" she said, angry, but resigned.

James was aware of the burden this was placing on Gerald's wife. To have a stranger descend on you completely by surprise, uninvited, probably unwanted, really. He had suggested that he wait a minute in the car, while Gerald prepared his wife. "Not that she can have much choice with me standing out here with my luggage," he thought wryly. But he was accustomed to occasional discomfort as he traveled the world. It is such a pleasure to live in a home instead of a dumpy little hotel in some of these small towns. It was too inviting to resist, so sometimes he accepted.

To be fair, he had seen Gerald's wife from afar at lunch, earlier in the day. Gerald's boss, Gordon Williams, had pointed across his pint of bitter and his plate of Plaice, peas and chips at the pub. She looked well put together and pretty, sitting there, knees tight together, on the stool by the low round table in the corner. He had to admit that was part of his reason for agreeing so eagerly to accept Gerald's rather forced invitation.

She looked quite inviting, sitting there listening to her three friend's comments. He judged that she was rather quiet, letting others babble on while she thought things through before speaking. James thought also, that her thoughts might be surprisingly intuitive, probably taking the conversation in surprising directions compared to outward appearances. The possibility of that was irresistible as he so enjoyed women who had a mind of their own without being so boorishly intent on appearing assertive as was the popular tendency these days.

He judged her to be in her mid-thirties, liked the softness a few extra ounces gave her figure, liked the way her smile came quickly when it came, the way her teeth showed when she smiled. "Pretty, isn't she" he said to his host.

"Yes, yes ... I suppose she is ... hadn't paid that much attention, I guess," the older man commented idly. James suspected he was lying in the bullshit way the Brit business men have about them. Still, Williams was a decent sort and he was very hospitable and determined that James' stay should be as comfortable as possible.

James found himself distracted from Williams's business talk, by watching Valerie, as he found her name to be. She had crossed one knee over the other now and was leaning on it; her hand cupping her chin as she listened intently to the attractive blond speaking animatedly across the table from her. He could just see the translucent, warm natural color of the nylon over her knee, the white spot caused where her crossed leg rested against the other one. Her breasts, under her big fluffy sweater, seemed medium sized, not overwhelming the rest of her; you were just aware of them, of their potential for discovered beauty. He could see from her profile the loveliness of their curve, so subtle and restrained as her bra supported their weight, helping, enhancing their natural opulence and grace.

"Yes," he said aloud to himself "I noticed Valerie!" The cool evening air stimulated his thoughts.

'Oh, James, can you come through now?" Gerald was calling from the door. "It's all right, she is not going to bite! He laughed, then muttered to himself, "Either of us!"

He dropped his bag at the door and followed toward the large country- style kitchen where Valerie met him at the door, her smile perhaps slightly forced, but a smile anyway.

She had an apron over the sweater and skirt she had worn today in the pub. I saw now that it had grayish flecks in it and was of soft luxurious looking lambs wool that draped down the upper slopes of her breasts, rounding the prominence of her nipples hidden someplace there at the summit. The neck cuddled her neck in a wide roll. The effect over all was of quiet quality.

Her reddish brown flannel skirt, buttoned down the side, hung just above her rather nice knees. Her tights are charcoal in this light, whereas I had thought much lighter from across the pub. Still, he hadn't been so far off, he thought ... pretty.

"Val, this is Mister Carmody" her husband introduced him

He took her hand, warm and firm.

"Call me James, please, he smiled. Mister makes me sound like a Grandfather." Already he could see her softening toward him. He could feel a warmth toward her already, he thought.

"Come sit down, then ... James, is it?" she had a natural warmth and genuine-ness that was appealing. It probably surprised her husband how this seemed to come through to strangers. How she was so much more quickly a friend with others than he was.

James noticed that she had changed from low heels at noon to her flat shoes tonight, making a slight but perceptible difference in the look of her breasts against the lambs wool. Less prominent - no less promising than before - he smiled at using the words together rather cleverly. James was fond of entertaining himself in this way.

He followed her slightly swaying hips under the flannel skirt, gazing at the hollows at the back of her knees as she lead him to the dining room. The table was set with two candles, his place was at the side and she and Gerald sat on the ends. Her smile was easier now.

James realized that he was being seductive. He really liked her. She was being seductive in her own way, too. "Seductive" in the way they were trying to draw each other into and through the joy of conversation, not so much the way the word is usually used in trying to get some one into bed as quickly as possible. Though, looking at her through the candlelight, watching the candles dance in her eyes, he realized that he might mean that as well. Her cheeks were rosy now in the candleglow. Perhaps it was the hot oven she had taken the chafing dish from. Or ... something else.

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