In a Shadowed Realm
In a somber setting:
A woman grapples with anger and unhappiness after her husband's affair, only to find solace in the unexpected help of her stepson's friend.
Some period of time has passed, but I can't remember exactly when. My marriage had crashed due to my husband's infidelity, leaving me in a dark and emotionally drained state.
My life was content before all this. I had been married for 12 years and lived without children of my own, and I was perfectly happy to help raise Jeremy and Mike. At that time, Paul, the man I'd married, was a widower with two young boys, and we met when he came to fix the heating and air conditioning at the place where I worked. We met, we talked, and eventually, we started dating. After some time, I even moved into his house.
My husband and I had met at the workplace, where Paul was an HVAC technician. We spent a long time getting to know each other, as it took almost two weeks to repair the whole system. Before I actually met the boys, I had been dating him for a whole year. The first time I met Jeremy and Mike, they treated me with respect and kindness, just like I would expect stepchildren to treat their mother. Mike, the younger one, warmed up to me right away and referred to me as "mom" shortly after our wedding, despite his brother, Jeremy, constantly trying to convince him otherwise.
After our divorce proceedings started, Mike and I maintained regular contact, but things became complicated when his friend named Steve came into the picture. He was rude and crude, but he made no secret of his desire for me. Still, I instantly recognized this attitude as creepy, and noticed the way his eyes roamed up and down my body whenever I wore a dress. He made a conscious effort to flirt with me while I was wearing stockings.
The first anniversary of my divorce was approaching, and I found myself reaching the conclusion that I hadn't met anyone who interested me romantically. As a woman in my late 30s, I'd come to the stark realization that I needed to make my own decisions about the people I allowed into my life. I had reached the conclusion that I couldn't trust people anymore, because of what my ex-husband had done to me. I was angry, frustrated, and deeply unhappy.
That very night, Mike showed up to cheer me up – accompanied by Steve, his annoying friend. Though I was already in a fragile emotional state, I didn't mind letting them into my home to share in a few drinks and conversation. Soon, Steve poured me more wine, and I began slightly venting about my frustrations and regrets to him. I felt I could trust him, although his attentiveness surprised me. By the time Mike left to meet his girlfriend, Steve had been sympathetic, and complimented me several times.
At that point, Mike had been gone for almost half an hour when we really got down to business. The music began to play, and I found myself dancing with Steve. At first, I struggled to maintain a vertical position and leaned into him until he covered my mouth with his. His lips slowly moved up my neck, to my jaw, to my chin, and back to my neck, then he returned to my mouth. His arms held me closely. I felt the heat from his body. Though he wasn't particularly attractive, I found his confidence alluring.
Steve noticed my reactions and took advantage of me, perhaps knowing I was in a vulnerable state and willing to give in. Since he was tall and I was short, I leaned against him with my chin down and eyes closed to avoid falling over, thus providing him better access to my neck and cheeks. He leant down and kissed my lips, my hands gripped his shoulders to hold him close. I felt Steve's strong arms around me. His affection electrified my body.
He led me back to the sofa and made me sit down. He then joined me, and we kissed again. I'm not sure when it happened, but my shirt was on the floor and my bra thrown across the room. I let out a deep groan as his lips touched my nipple and his tongue fluttered quickly. His fingers mauled my other nipple, pinching and rolling it. He had me holding his head, and I was moaning loudly.
My hands found his lap. I felt the big bulge in his sweats, and I was happy he was wearing them. My hand easily slid in and gripped his shaft through his briefs. He let out a groan. I rubbed and pulled on him. His cock was getting bigger and harder.
He forced me to kneel on his lap. I let him guide me. I was out of my mind. I heard a faint voice in my head telling me not to do it... not now... not with him, but a new voice was overriding the first one, instructing me in my actions.
I sucked the tip of his cock. My tongue swirled around the shaft before I opened my mouth wide and took him in, moaning loudly. I was on all fours, leaning over him. His cock filled my mouth, my left hand holding me up, and my right hand stroking his big, hairy balls. He had his left hand on the back of my head, occasionally pushing me down or holding me down on his dick. He wanted me to know he was in charge. His other hand slipped between my legs and rubbed my pussy through my pants. A question crossed my mind - where did my jeans go? The new voice inside me commanded me to be a dirty, willing participant.
I sucked his shaft up and down, my right hand playing with his balls. My mind flashed pictures of Steve checking me out over the past few years. I knew he liked stockings. I removed my mouth from his dick and said, "Steve, could you come give me a hand in here, please?"
Steve took off his shirt and kicked his briefs off. He was on me in a flash.
I was expecting him to reenter my mouth, but he put me face-down on the bed, legs bent at the knees. He held my ankles and rubbed his dick between them. I heard him moan. We did this for a few minutes before I felt his precum on my feet.
He asked me to roll over, and he helped me. He got on his knees next to the bed. He pulled me back onto him, his face between my legs. He kissed, licked, and fingered me until I was grinding my hips, experiencing more pleasure than ever before. I jerked my hands into fists, my feet kicking on his back as he took me from one orgasm to another.
I was lying on the bed, gasping for air when Steve gripped my ankles, spreading my legs wide. His massive body towered over me. I moaned when he entered me.
"Go ahead... fuck me... I need it... fuck me baby... fuck me like a slut... a slut for you," I said.
This set him off. He was thrusting away, his weight forcing me down onto the bed. Oh, it felt so good.
"Fuck me... fuck me harder... make me your slut... treat me like a whore... destroy me," I cried out, experiencing a mind-blowing orgasm that made my thighs tremble and my feet shake as my toes curled.
As I panted on the bed, I raised my head to his nipple and sucked it, taking each one in my mouth while tonguing and nibbling it.
Steve steadily inserted his cock into me, until it was almost fully inside. Then, without warning, he rammed into me, causing me to stumble forward in astonishment as he stretched me to the max. He plunged himself deep within me.
He swatted my ass right before withdrawing and thrusting back in, repeating this several times. He observed that my legs were starting to quiver and my toes were curling - signs that I was about to climax on his penis once more.
"Do you like this... do you enjoy being fucked like a slut?"
He gave it to me twice more. I was on the brink of a massive orgasm.
"Say it... who owns you... whose slut are you?" he snarled.
"Yours... I'm your slut... please... don't stop." I choked out weakly.
As I finished talking, it seemed like my body, already burning, went up in flames. My thoughts scattered, all that was left was the notion of Steve using me however he desired. The last thing I remembered from the night was the sensation of a hot explosion within my pussy filling me up.
I woke up early the next morning, feeling the need to pee. A muscular arm across my body, its large hand cupping my pussy, a finger slipped inside of me. Memories of the night before flashed through my clouded mind. A small grin spread on my face.
I pulled myself out of bed, still wearing the latex bodysuit from the prior night. I sat on the toilet and released a flood of urine. I looked between my legs and into the bowl, I'd never seen so much cum leak out of me in the morning. Steve had filled me up.
As we were both heading to the bathroom, Steve dragged me behind him. He had me standing behind him, my arms around his waist. He placed one of my hands on his flaccid penis, the other cupped his balls. His head leaned back as I sensed a surge pass through his member, then the spray hit the toilet. I actually laughed as I waved his penis back and forth as he relieved himself. After he was done, he shook it and wiped the end with a wet wipe. In my mind, which was still a bit scrambled, I thought it was a good idea to lean over and kiss the tip. 15 minutes later, I swallowed a mouthful of fresh cum for breakfast.
After two cups of coffee and Steve ate a bowl of cereal, Steve had me bent over my dining table being fucked from behind. He brought me to two orgasms before he groaned and filled me again. He slapped my ass and then turned me around. His lips met mine passionately, and his tongue overcame mine, causing me to melt in his embrace.
A happy expression graced my face. I replayed the events of the previous night and that morning in my mind. I thought about how powerful Steve actually was. I'd never considered the strength a heavyset man would have. He was undoubtedly strong. He seamlessly maneuvered me to his liking, yet he was gentle with me but dominant at opportune times.
My fingers traced between my legs, triggering a string of smaller orgasms. I knew I had to find a way to bring him back for an extended period of time. Also, I had to acknowledge reality - he's still in high school, a senior, yes, but still, high school. Those words reverberated in my head for several minutes. I came up with the idea that I needed to find myself a large man.
Read also:
Source: www.nice-escort.de
