Norma Egan - Cheating Spouses

“I think I’m ready now, darling,” Carol said. “I know you are.”

John glanced down at his bloated drooling cock and said, “You better believe I’m ready. I’ve been ready to ball you since the moment I met you, lady.”

“Then let’s not waste any more time,” Carol said, reaching out for him.

John eagerly sank onto her hot silky body, his chest hairs deliciously tickling her full throbbing tits. He eased between her spread legs, and then Carol felt his huge hard cock-head pressing hungrily against the moist mouth of her virgin cunt. John slipped his hands under her small round ass and tilted her pussy upward to meet the big knobby head of his dick.

“I’ll be as gentle as I can,” he panted.

Carol nodded, clung to him, and then his stiff thick meat was sliding into her, slowly stuffing her exquisitely tight juicy cunt, slowly taking her virginity. To her relief, it didn’t hurt. Her tiny box felt full almost to bursting, yet it was thrilling to have his cock inside her. He finally touched his oozing cock-head to her womb, and she felt a powerful rush of lusty excitement.

“Hurt?” John gasped.

“No,” Carol sighed. “No, it’s good. I want it, John. I want you. Do it to me.”

He fucked her slowly, tenderly, at first, but as her pleasure grew and she helplessly jerked her pussy in time to his strokes, he speeded up, balling her in quick deep lunges. Carol loved every second of it. She loved having her cunt stuffed, filled, probed. Her steamy twat-juice gushed and boiled around his stabbing prick.

“Oh, John,” she whined, “it’s so good. I love it!”

“That’s great, baby,” he moaned, “because I could fuck you all night.”

Five years later those words came back to Carol as she lay in bed waiting for John to finish his reading. The good old days, she thought wistfully. That first year of marriage, they’d fucked like bunnies, two and three times a day. Then gradually John had become more wrapped up in his work as a math professor, spending evenings at his office or bringing home piles of paper to work on. His job became his life, and Carol was left out.

That had to change. She was a healthy normal young woman who needed plenty of sex, and she wasn’t getting it. She was just about fed up with John’s preoccupation with his work. She was going to have to put it to him – revive their sex life or lose her. She loved him dearly, but this sexual frustration was more than she could take.

Carol heard a soft snore. She turned and looked at John. He’d fallen asleep with the book in his lap, his glasses practically off the end of his nose. Carol sighed deeply. She knew her husband – once he was asleep, he was out for the count. Gently she put away the book and removed his glasses, then curled up far from him on her own side of the king-size bed.

“Hell,” she muttered.

There was only one thing to do now. She wasn’t proud of it, but it was better than no sex at all, and the raging need in her pussy demanded relief. Carol blushed in the darkness as she slipped her hand inside her panties and touched the searing-hot flesh of her gash. She found the moist little lump of her clit and began to rub it.

Sharp pleasure flashed through her swollen wet slit. She worked a stiff finger steadily back and forth over the tender slick shaft of her joy button and felt herself rising swiftly toward a much-needed climax. Before her marriage she’d never played with herself, hadn’t even known how. But lately she’d had to learn, to keep her sanity. She just couldn’t go totally without sex.

“Ummmmm,” Carol murmured, “Ummmmm!”

It felt delicious to rub her own clit, it was going to work, yes, she’d get off fast this way. But it lacked something. What she really craved was a thick hard cock in her cunt, jerking, pounding, balling her silly. It’d been so long since John fucked her like that. Damn John anyhow.

For the very first time Carol fantasized other men as she frigged herself. Brent Davis, how would he be in bed? Was Tom Archer a good lay? These thoughts made her wickedly excited, but of course she’d never carry them into reality. She couldn’t bring herself to be unfaithful to John.

Or could she?

“You’re kidding,” Carol said to Brent Davis.

“Snowbound?”

“That’s right, honey,” Brent replied with a rueful smile. “Just look out the window and see for yourself.”

Carol had just come down to breakfast. Now for the first time she glanced out the windows of the chalet and saw nothing but snow. It had to be piled clear to the roof. John joined her and whistled in amazement. There was no way they could get out of the house that day, let alone go skiing.

“So what do we do?” John asked Brent.

Brent shrugged. “Well, there’s no immediate problem,” he said. “We have plenty of food, plenty to drink, and the water and power are still okay. So what we do is wait for the snow to melt down or for somebody to come and dig us out.”

“Why don’t we just phone for help?” Carol said.

“The phone’s out,” Brent said. “That’s the one thing that didn’t survive the storm. But don’t worry. The park service keeps tabs on all the cabins. Somebody will be around in a few days.”

“A couple of days?” John sputtered. “I’ve got to be back to the city by tomorrow night. I’ve got classes to teach on Monday.”

Brent grinned at him. “So do I, old buddy,” he said, “and I don’t much care if I miss them. Honestly, John, what’s wrong with a little unscheduled vacation now and then? The university won’t die without you, you know, and you might just enjoy the time off.”

John looked unconvinced, but Carol began to think Brent was right – the snowstorm might be a blessing in disguise. It would give her an opportunity she hadn’t had in years, to get John away from his work and forced to pay attention to her. She could use the time to patch up their marriage, if that was possible.

“Quit fussing and have your breakfast, darling,” she said, coaxing her husband into a chair. “There’s nothing we can do about the situation, so we might as well make the best of our time.”

“Right,” John said. “Fortunately, I brought a load of papers to grade. I can start on those right after I eat.”

Carol suppressed a moan of disappointment. Leave it to John to bring his work along on a vacation! But she consoled herself with the thought that even John couldn’t bring enough papers to keep him busy for the whole weekend. He’d run out sooner or later, and then he’d have to pay attention to her.

True to her word, John shut himself in their bedroom right after breakfast and started grading papers. Carol wandered around the luxurious big cabin, wondering how to pass the time. Finally she made her way to the basement recreation room. If nothing else, she could work out her frustrations with some solitary handball.

The door of the rec room was partly open, and Carol heard voices inside. Something made her hesitate before entering the room. She stood just outside the door and listened.

“What if they come down here?” Amy Archer was saying.

“Not likely,” Brent Davis replied. “Tom’s still in bed – you know how late he sleeps. And Lucie’s taking one of her two-hour baths. Carol and John are in their room. Looks like the perfect time to me.”

“Brent, you devil, I’m beginning to think you plotted this whole thing,” Amy laughed.

“Could be,” he chuckled, “but let’s not waste any more time.”

Then there was a short silence. Carol puzzled, leaned forward and poked her head around the door for a quick peek. What she saw made her draw back in shock, stifling a gasp. Brent Davis and Amy Archer were kissing, and it was definitely not an innocent kiss. Brent was holding Amy tight against him, and she was rubbing her crotch against his.