Penny's Promiscuity - 3 - Accidental Adultery free porn video

Unseasonably warm afternoon weather had brought the London crowds out in droves as I squeezed myself uncomfortably onto the Piccadilly line underground train and stood awkwardly, my overnight bag at my feet, my face pressed into the armpit of a tall blonde Scandinavian tourist. He gave me a look of pity no Londoner would have bothered with, and I felt pleased that his personal hygiene was up to scratch; at least for the next few stops.

It was Friday afternoon and I was on my way home after yet another conference. The formal dinner and most of the presentations, including my own, had been the previous evening so an overnight stay had been essential. The morning’s work groups had been optional for me but as I was in town anyway, I had decided to take part and had in fact learned a great deal, especially about my presentation style.

The food at the post-conference dinner had been good, as had the hotel room and breakfast  but I had been obliged to fend off a slightly inebriated amorous approach from my next door neighbour throughout dinner.

Given my recent conversations with my husband Peter, this made me smile. It felt good that someone found me attractive enough to flirt with a little more seriously, but even if I had decided to comply with my husband’s apparently sincere desire for me to take a lover, my dinner companion wasn’t my type at all. Surgeons’ egos apparently run to more than just their professional lives; my would-be seducer wasn’t anywhere near as attractive as he clearly imagined himself to be and I remained un-tempted by his charms to his obvious frustration.

So now, still in my ‘professional’ attire of dark grey skirt suit, white blouse, black tights and shiny medium height heels, I was on my way home. Less than ten minutes later I arrived at St. Pancras station, hurried past all the shops in the fantastic arrivals hall and dragged my wheeled overnight bag up the escalator to the platform, only to find to my dismay that I had missed the train by the merest few minutes.

After a good strong silent curse, I told myself that the service on that line was generally good so I only had about forty minutes to wait for the next train. Cursing London Underground under my breath again, I turned and sulked my way to the coffee shop closest to the barriers, ordered a large Americano and pulled my conference notes out of my briefcase.

The conference hadn’t been all that riveting first time round so was even less interesting in note form. Within ten minutes I had read enough and my mind had begun to stray onto the latest erotic stories I was in the process of writing. I had quickly found that my ability and dedication as a writer depended greatly on my mood at the time so I was keeping several different stories on the go at once, adding and amending them as the muse took me.

I knew I still had a great deal to learn but was enjoying the experience immensely. As a result of my husband Peter’s constantly expressed desire to see me with another man, the ‘Cuckold’ theme was very much dominant in my current choice of story, but I had drifted into other subject areas as well.

There was also a powerful thrill in having a secret; no-one would have guessed that the middle-aged rather severe-looking professional woman sitting opposite them on the train was actually composing erotic stories and imagining herself taking part in them!

This delay in my return home could be an opportunity too. If I could find a seat where I couldn’t be overlooked, the journey home could be a great opportunity to press on with the latest chapter in my favourite series. In fact, I realised, if I moved to the corner table in the café, I could get a good twenty minutes constructive writing done now before catching the train. I slid along the bench seat to put my back to the wall and within seconds my laptop was out and I was engrossed in writing, finding to my shame, that it was getting easier and easier to put myself in the place of my stories’ heroines.

Each time a story called for a male lover, I tried to use as role model a man from my real life who I rather fancied, partly because it’s so much easier to base a character on a real person but also, I must confess, because it gave me a thrill imagining what such a man might do to me and with me and for me.

An idea for a highly erotic scene had just sprung into my mind; the world of the café faded to blur as for a quarter of an hour I typed and typed, my eyes fixed myopically on the small screen.

So it was that, when the barriers were open and I boarded the train, I was in something of a state of arousal. My face felt hot and I suspect I was a little flushed but was very much looking forward to an unbroken ninety minutes’ to develop further the plot line I had just created. My alter-ego was going to have one hell of an evening if I could just get the scenario that was filling my mind onto the screen before its intensity faded.

The train was quite busy but I was an early boarder and selected a single seat in the corner of First Class where it would be difficult for other passengers to look over my shoulder and see what I was working on. I booted up my laptop again, set the document magnification low to make it doubly difficult for an eavesdropper to read anything I might write and got back to work ten minutes before we were due to depart.

The story was taking shape nicely. My anti-hero had managed to manoeuvre his wife into a situation where she thought she was alone with her would-be-lover and was rapidly succumbing to his considerable charms. As a result, I had started work on what was always one of my favourite parts of any story – the seduction itself.

In my mind, the seducer in this chapter was heavily based on Tony, the frequent dinner companion and ‘goodbye groper’ I have described before. Tall, slim and definitely very handsome, he and I had come close to inappropriate contact at least twice before.

Since his wife Jane had embarked on a misguided affair with her Personal Trainer and they now lived apart, his newly acquired ‘single’ status made him an even more dangerous threat to my fidelity.

The action on my screen was heating up rapidly in the central characters’ lounge. Oblivious to all around me, my fast-moving fingers had typed up to the point where my anti-hero’s wife was being slowly undressed by her soon-to-be lover after a candle-lit dinner. As her husband watched, her soft body was being gradually but efficiently exposed to her lover’s touch; after all those bedroom fantasies with my husband Peter, it was easy for me to imagine what it might be like to be in that situation myself.

I fidgeted in my seat I became more and more aroused with each completed paragraph. As the train slowly began to move I became aware of my panties becoming damper and damper as my characters shed more and more clothes until…

“Hi Penny! Great to see you!”

The very familiar but out-of-breath voice above and just behind my head made me jump almost out of my seat. I had been so engrossed in my writing that I had let someone get close up to me without even noticing. Awash with guilt and fear I instinctively slammed down the screen of my laptop, begging my guardian angels to make sure whoever it was hadn’t had a chance to read what I was writing, then span around in my chair to see who it was that had frightened me so much.

“Tony! Jesus you scared the life out of me!” I exclaimed.

Oh my God! It was the very person I had been imagining seducing the heroine of my story, a heroine in many ways modelled on myself. My skin was suddenly hot and prickly at the absurd thought that he might not only have seen the erotic story I was writing, but might also have recognised one of the characters as himself. His first reaction was reassuring though.

“I’m so sorry Penny. I could see you were concentrating but didn’t realise you were in it so deep. I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you!”

I laughed out loud, partly in embarrassment, partly in relief. “It’s okay, really. I was miles away and didn’t see you.”

“I nearly missed it,” he confessed. “They closed the doors just after I jumped on. I had to run through the station. The tube was a nightmare. Do you mind if I sit with you?”

I gestured to the seat opposite and as he arranged himself, his coat and his briefcase, I began to tell him I had found the underground equally infuriating. I felt terribly flustered; it was nearly impossible to make small talk with a man who I had just imagined stripping and seducing me in front of my husband. I felt exposed and vulnerable, almost as if he had just seen me naked

“Is everything alright?” I heard him ask as he settled in his seat. “You look a bit anxious.”

I ignored his comment and tried to talk cheerfully and directly as I attempted surreptitiously to slide my laptop into my briefcase.

“What were you in town for?” I asked distractedly.

“Meeting with a customer,” he replied. “A big one too. Were you at the Conference?”

“Yes, overnight,” I replied then frowned. “How did you know about that?”

“You told me at Jenny’s dinner party, don’t you remember? I thought I was the one who had too much to drink that night. And Peter too of course!”

I knew better; my husband Peter hadn’t been anywhere near as drunk as he appeared. He had just pretended to be drunk in order to see how far Tony would push his ‘goodbye grope’ and how far I would let him go. I didn’t say anything though, instead I stuck my tongue out at him and he laughed. I smiled back and for a few moments we were distracted by the arrival of the trolley, the checking of tickets and the pouring of coffee.

“Would you like a complimentary glass of wine too?” the steward asked. I looked at Tony as if waiting for a lead.

“Would you like one?” he asked me, a cheeky look in his eye. “I will if you will. It is Friday afternoon after all and I hate drinking on my own!”

I grinned and nodded and before long we were touching surprisingly large glasses and chatting away. My relief at having escaped discovery was almost palpable and I began to relax quickly. After the usual exchanges about our respective kids and the iniquities of our various work colleagues we were half an hour into the journey and half way down a second glass of wine.

As we exited a tunnel, Tony’s phone rang and he asked if I minded him taking the call, it being from the customer he had met that morning. I smiled at his politeness and nodded then picked up my meeting notes and tried not to listen to the private conversation taking place across the table.

Although we had been friends for nearly twenty years, I had never really seen Tony in business mode before and must admit to being impressed. Distracted by his phone call, I was able to look carefully at the man who had featured so strongly in my fantasies.

I very much liked what I saw; tall, slim and fit in a smart, tailored dark blue suit, white shirt and red tie. His hair had started to thin a little but the steel grey at his temples seemed to make him more serious and more attractive rather than looking older. His deep brown eyes had always been one of his sexiest features and they hadn’t reduced in allure one little bit, especially when they sparkled mischievously during one-to-one conversations like the one we were just enjoying.

He turned towards the window, engrossed in his call and for a moment I felt his legs press against mine then somewhat awkwardly move away. His trousers had felt warm against my tight-covered legs and for a moment I wished they had remained there. As if reading my mind, when he turned back from the window and ended the call, I felt the light touch of woollen cloth against my nylons and a small thrill washed over me.

“Sorry about that,” he apologised. “I’ve been working towards this deal for months and it looks like it’s going to come off.”

“Really? Well done!” I congratulated him, trying to remember whether he had told me about it during dinner and deciding he probably hadn’t.

“It’s not a lot of business but it’s prestigious,” he continued. “And it sets us up well for next year.”

“You look happy,” I said smiling.

“I am happy,” he replied. “And it’s great to spend a bit of time with you. When I’m sober!” he added.

For the next hour we talked about all sorts of things; our kids, work, politics, families, holidays, everything but my old friend, his estranged wife Julie. And as we talked I was struck by just how good a companion he really was; how he asked questions rather than just told me things as most men do, and then really listened to my answers. As the conversation grew closer, I felt his legs pressing more firmly against mine under the table and several times our hands touched above it.

The journey simply flew past and before long we were approaching our station in the fading light.

“Did you drive here?” he asked me as we began to slow down.

“I’ll get a taxi. It’s no problem.” I replied.

“My car’s over there,” he said nodding towards the large off site car park. “Let me give you a lift home.”

“It’s a bit out of your way,” I protested unconvincingly.

“It’s no problem. Besides you haven’t asked me everything yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re dying to know about Julie and me but are too polite to ask,” he laughed.

I blushed but he was absolutely right. Although I had heard something of Julie’s side of the story from our post-exercise conversations at the gym, I had little idea how Tony felt about the situation. Julie of course was in full scale mid-life crisis and had been simply swept off her foolish feet by a lover over twenty years her junior. I had to admit, he was extremely good looking with a fit body and, if her reports were anything to go by, an enviable endowment and prowess in bed. Julie had always kept herself in great shape, but since her affair had started, her body had improved still further and her self confidence had soared.

The price of her folly had been estrangement from her husband and two children, though there was as yet no talk of divorce, and becoming the centre of scandalous conversations within our circle of friends. The number of social invitations extended to her had greatly reduced, partly because her boyfriend had been Personal Trainer to many of her friends too but also because her unfaithful presence made many couples feel uneasy.

Besides, it was hard to gossip about someone when they were actually there.

Despite his comment, Tony said little about his real feelings as we drove through the lamp-lit streets towards the village where Peter and I live. It was clear that she had hurt him deeply and that he was still in love with her despite their ten month separation.

Still very good looking, I knew myself that since the separation Tony had been presented with many opportunities to form other relationships and had actually had a couple of short term affairs. I also knew that he wasn’t looking for anything permanent; that he expected her to want to come back to him eventually but at that moment he wasn’t at all sure that would be good for him.

Barely fifteen minutes later we turned through the large gate posts and onto our driveway then pulled up outside the front door. Tony leapt from the driver’s door and ran round to help me down from the car, then carried my briefcase and overnight bag to the house while I fumbled in my handbag for the key. A minute later we were in the hallway and he placed the bags neatly up against the wall.

“Okay! You’re all set!” he said cheerfully, turning to face me. “Have a nice evening!”

“Are you sure you don’t want another coffee?” I asked as a matter of politenesss.

“I think all that railway coffee has put me off it for a while,” he chuckled. “Thanks anyway.”

“It was nice to talk to you properly,” I said softly as those deep brown eyes locked onto mine.

“It was, wasn’t it?” he replied softly. “And without the usual disturbances.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that; was it the kids or the phones? Or maybe my husband?

“We should do it again,” I said cheerfully, approaching him for our usual farewell hug and kiss. “Thanks so much for the lift.”

Tony moved towards me, stooping a little until his lips brushed against my cheek for our habitual goodbye peck. I felt his arms wrapping themselves around my waist and waited for the usual hug and ‘farewell fondle’ - the now familiar straying of his large strong hands onto my buttocks where they would rest, waiting for my own hand to move them away and for the good natured admonishment that I would normally administer.

Sure enough, within seconds I felt the warmth and weight of his right hand on my left buttock, drawing my body into his as his lips brushed against my cheek. Instinctively I reached behind and took hold of his wrist as I would normally have done to move it away.

But I didn’t!

This time it was different; this time, for some reason I didn’t move his hand away.

Even now I can’t explain exactly what made me, on that specific occasion, release his wrist leaving his hand on my bottom and raise my arms around his neck instead. Just why I chose that moment to take the first tiny step on the fast-moving journey that followed, I simply do not know, but take it I did.

It took Tony’s puzzled brain a few seconds to register that something had changed; that his hand was still on my warm buttock and that far from chastising him, I was now hanging from his neck, my cheek against his; my body leaning against him.

My heart was thumping as I felt his hands gently and tentatively squeeze my bottom as if he was testing me, unable to believe my lack of response, wondering what to do next.

My mind told me that it wasn’t too late to stop; even then I could have released his neck and moved his hand away with only a little embarrassment, but I didn’t. Nervously, almost unable to believe what I’d started, I nuzzled his neck with my nose and after a moment of sheer terror, felt his right hand join his left on my bottom, cupping both my buttocks and squeezing me tightly against his tall, muscular frame.

Nervously, not quite understanding what I had started, I pressed myself against him and rubbed his slightly whiskery neck with my cheek. He squeezed me tightly, his rough chin against my smooth cheek.

Like awkward teenagers at a school party, our faces clumsily manoeuvred until finally our lips touched.

Oh God! What was I doing?

Our closed mouths pressed tentatively together; I felt his hot lips on mine and his tongue gently tracing their outline.

No Penny! This had to stop!

Then almost before my senses could register what was happening – certainly before my conscious brain could intervene and stop me - we were kissing full-on as if our lives depended on it. Tony’s tongue parted my trembling lips easily and plunged deep into my mouth, seeking mine. I sucked on it, my own tongue writhing around the intruder while my mouth opened wider and wider until our teeth clashed stupidly together as if we were teens outside a school disco.

Before I knew it, we were in full passionate embrace, arms around each other, mouths pressed firmly together, open wide, tongues active and searching. I felt his tongue probing deeper in my mouth as his eager, exploring hands gripped my buttocks through my skirt, pressing me tightly against his tall, strong body.

His fingers were on my sides, then on my tummy, then firmly on my boobs, kneading them through the thin material of my bra and blouse, searching for my nipples which I could feel hardening quickly, their teats rubbing against the bra’s thin cups.

“Ohhhh...” I heard myself breathing as he fondled my tiny breasts, the first man in nearly twenty years to treat me with such passion.

I felt a small ‘popping’ and a release around my tummy and realised that his nimble fingers had unclasped the waistband of my skirt. Christ! Things were moving quickly! There was a slow loosening around my hips as he lowered the side zipper and slid the garment efficiently down until it rested around my ankles.

For an instant the horrible thought of how I must look in black tights and over-large, unsexy panties flashed through my mind but it was too late to do anything about it. I felt Tony’s warm, strong hands slipping inside the elastic at my back and cupping my bare buttocks, skin on skin, his fingers running up and down the cleft between my cheeks.

Again the warning siren in my brain rang out; there was still time to extricate myself, though now it would be much harder but the passion surging from my body simply overwhelmed any doubts that tried to surface. Instinctively parting my legs the merest fraction I felt Tony’s fingers dive deep between my cheeks, sliding under my bottom until their tips found the base of my slit.

“Mmmm!”

I tensed as my outer lips were clumsily parted and a long finger slid awkwardly along my slit, the first man other than my husband to touch my bare vulva in over twenty years. I shivered in excitement and arousal as he tentatively explored my rapidly dampening sex, sucking on his tongue as if trying to draw him into me at both ends at once.

A split second later the finger was withdrawn and I felt my tights and panties being slid confidently down, over my buttocks until their elastic rested in the cleft at the top on my thighs. Then a large, strong hand began to stroke my tummy before descending towards my pubic hair – which I suddenly and ridiculously wished I had trimmed. For a moment I felt fingertips toying with the tight curls between my thighs, then parting my lips again and diving into my body from the front, much, much deeper this time.

I gasped as his strong hand forced its way between my easily-parted legs and whimpered into his neck as he began to expertly finger me, first in long smooth strokes the length of my slit, then taking care to locate and toy with the most sensitive parts of my almost painfully aroused body. From its lowest edge, around and between my hot inner lips, his finger probed, explored and teased on its inexorable journey upwards towards the hard nub that swelled and throbbed awaiting his touch.

An instant later, my knees shook uncontrollably as Tony’s probing fingers found their mark, stroking the sensitive underside of my swelling clitoris in short, rapid movements. Even in my teens, I had never been fingered as expertly as this and before I realised what was happening, my was shaking as a small but totally unexpected orgasm rippled through me, right there in my own hallway.

“Tony... Tony...” I mumbled, massively aroused but absurdly embarrassed.

“Come…” he whispered.

His hand was removed from my vulva he led me through to the lounge as if I was the visitor. I tottered forward, the panties and tights around my knees forcing me to take tiny steps but his arm was strong and I held him tightly. The room was warm and clean and the light was low as he guided me to the large deep rug in front of the fireplace that was one of Pete and my favourite cuddling places.

He turned my body into his and we kissed again, gently and delicately then to my surprise he moved behind me, drawing my back against his chest. I looked up to see our reflections in the large rectangular mirror above the mantelpiece. Tony’s long arms encircled my upper body as he showered my neck with tiny kisses, nibbling my skin delicately with his front teeth. I sighed, as his hands dropped to my waist then one by one began to unfasten the buttons on the front of my shirt. With each ‘pop’ of the buttons, a little more of my bare tummy was visible in the mirror until my shirt hung fully open revealing the flesh beneath.

I felt the touch of his fingers on the sensitive skin of my tummy then saw them rise to my small, off-white bra. For a moment I cursed myself for wearing such an old, unattractive garment but then the thought vanished as his warm hands cupped my tiny boobs, kneading them through the thin fabric.

I moaned, unable to recall when I had last been touched like this or had felt like this. It was as if I was a teenager again, back behind the village hall after the disco, exploring and being explored. It was so exciting!

A moment later the analogy grew stronger as Tony dexterously flipped my bra upwards, exposing my boobs to his touch. The straps felt tight under my armpits but the sensation was amazing, stripping off the years as his fingers began to toy first with my small globes then at last to my nipples which grew even harder as he gently rolled then tweaked them between his fingertips.

I could hear myself breathing, low and deep as I watched myself in the mirror being exposed then caressed. Something within me told me that this was very wrong; that I should stop it now before it became even more serious. But something deeper within me told me that this was what I had wanted and needed for a very long time.

I felt my right breast being released and the soft light touch of his fingers walking downwards over my tummy.

I felt his fingertips toying with my pubic hair, tangling tantalisingly in my tight curls then the long, slim finger returned to my slit.

“Ohhhhh Tony!” I sighed.

“Just relax,” he whispered in my ear as I watched and felt his hand slide deep between my thighs.

The image in the mirror wasn’t me; it was another woman being seduced, being fondled, being fingered. It wasn’t Penny the scientist, Penny the wife and mother with another man’s hand between her legs, his long finger parting her inner lips as she watched and delving deep into her most private places.

I felt his large palm against my pubic mound, his fingers wrapping downwards into my slit. I instinctively spread my legs wider and was immediately rewarded by the thrust of his long middle finger into my body. A moment later there was a small stab of pain followed by a wonderful feeling of being stretched as a second and then a third finger was thrust into my loose vagina.

I felt faint. With three fingers inside my body, even I felt tight and stretched again. The memory of the dark fumbling behind the village hall came back with a vengeance as Tony’s fingers were thrust deep into me, curling upwards towards the place I hoped my g-spot would be.

The next thing I knew, my knees had buckled as a totally unexpected wave of orgasm shuddered its way through my body. I leaned heavily back against Tony’s chest, my weight pressing heavily on the large strong hand firmly secured between my thighs.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered as his left arm encircled my waist. “It’s alright. You can’t fall; just cum if you need to cum!”

There was reassurance and protection in his low, seductive voice and I surrendered to this amazing man. A moment later I felt myself being lowered unresisting to the thick, soft rug on which Pete and I had cuddled so often.

But this time it wasn’t my husband’s fingers on my body; it was another, more expert hand that was touching my sensitive flesh, pulling my tights and panties irresistibly down to my knees then returning to my vulva once again.

My arms rose around Tony’s neck and I pulled his face onto mine, our lips colliding almost violently. My mouth was open and his tongue probed deeply within as the wonderful, pleasure-giving fingers were drawn the length of my weeping slit. I gasped into his mouth then gulped as they were suddenly thrust hard into my vagina once again.

It hurt! I squealed then felt the stretch in my inner lips once more and the pain no longer mattered.

The next moment, I felt the muscles of his arms bunch and the fingers were thrust hard into me, this time being twisted back and forth, his palm against my engorged lips, his expert thumb pressing firmly against my clitoris.

“Owwwwww yyyeeeesssss!”

My second climax, much stronger than the first racked my body. Tony, Tony, Tony... the name span round and round in my head as I came on his hand, the room filled with the wet slapping sound of his palm against my weeping vulva.

“Cum for me Penny!” he croaked in my ear. “Just let yourself go! Cum all you can!”

For a moment I was beyond rational thought, let alone speech but when the trembling slowed I heard my own voice pleading, almost begging.

“Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh God, please fuck me now!”

I felt the fingers slip out of my vagina and there was frantic fumbling alongside me. I stared vacantly at the ceiling, trying to get my mind around what had just happened and prepare myself for what I so badly hoped would happen next. There was awkward clumsy shuffling then a tall shape loomed over me.

Tony was kneeling upright alongside, his trousers and pants around his ankles, his shirt front partly concealing the erection that sprouted boldly from between his thighs. In a daze, I reached across and parted the short tails, revealing his cock in all its glory.

I touched it; apart from my husband’s it was the first naked erect cock I had touched since our wedding. Tony gasped as my fingers stroked its round, smooth end and it jumped upwards comically. I took it in my hand and squeezed it. It was firm, warm and smooth and quite unlike the cock I had imagined so often in Pete and my fantasies, though at that moment it was simply perfect! So different from my husband’s long, slim erection - the erection that for over twenty years had been all I had known.

It was much shorter but much, much thicker. If I’m truly honest, it was really quite an ugly, stumpy, thick appendage shaped more like a can of Coke than a sausage but by now I was beyond caring about such trivial things. As I lay back on the thick soft rug, my skirt around my ankles, my tights and horrible panties bunched around my knees, all I wanted was to feel that thing inside me.

“Are you sure?” he asked, though his body barely paused as he knelt between my spread thighs, the trousers and shorts around his ankles tripping him as he mounted me.

I nodded as if incapable of speech then felt the heat of his body looming over mine, his breath on my face, his shirt falling onto my bared boobs, both of us ridiculously still half dressed. I spread my legs as far as my bunched tights and panties would allow.

“Nnngh!” I winced as something large and firm stabbed clumsily first against my anus, then hard against my clitoris. “Ouch!”

“Sorry,” he grinned sheepishly. “All these clothes are getting in the way.

Tony knelt back then with a single movement swept my tights and panties down the lower half of my unresisting legs, down to my shoes then away leaving me completely naked from my waist down, totally exposed and completely accessible.

Freed from my bonds, I instinctively spread my legs for the man I now prayed would fuck me and fuck me quickly. Again he leaned over me and I felt his erection brush against my inner thigh.

A little voice deep within me still whispered that this was wrong, that I could still stop - that this really was my last chance remain faithful to my husband - but the much louder voice bellowing from my lust-driven body drowned out any remaining chance I had of salvation.

Instinctively, I reached down to guide his cock into my eager, waiting body. I gasped aloud as my fingers closed around his shaft; it simply filled my hand – short but so, so thick.

I couldn’t remember what I had imagined Tony’s cock would be like in my fantasies but I knew it wasn’t like this. A strange feeling of fear mixed with incredible arousal washed through me as I directed his swollen head towards my inner lips. Already stretched by his fingers, they parted easily and I felt his smooth rounded tip beginning to force itself into me.

At the last second the tiny voice within me screamed ‘Stop!’ but by then it was far too late. Tony’s body tensed above me, the muscles of his strong thighs contracted and his short, stumpy erection was thrust slowly but irresistibly forwards.

For the first time in over twenty years, a new and unfamiliar cock began to penetrate my body.

Oh my God! Oh my Goddd!

Despite all that has happened since, the memory of that first illicit penetration will remain in my mind forever; the spreading of my legs obscenely wide, the parting of my inner lips, the smooth roundness of his head pressing into me, stretching my opening... wider... wider...

Oh my dear God! How thick was he? How much more must I stretch? And still he wasn’t finished!

The new, unfamiliar shaft was simply incredible, forcing its way into my body, irresistible, stretching me until I was tighter than I had been since our daughter was born; tighter than I had dreamed would ever be possible again.

After so many monogamous years I felt sexy again – perhaps even young again. I could feel every ridge on his shaft as it smoothly, slowly but forcefully penetrated my unresisting body, rasping through my wire-tight entrance. I could feel Tony’s hot chest with its distinctive, masculine smell and overpoweringly arousing smell towering over me, dominating me as my fantasies were finally fulfilled and his body penetrated mine, deeper and deeper.

I felt dizzy, light-headed, my legs automatically opening wider and wider as if to free his way into me, that incredible thick cock stretching me tighter and tighter, penetrating deeper and deeper until, to my disbelief, it became thicker still nearer to its base.

It was hurting me so badly but so wonderfully.

And then finally I felt the full weight of Tony’s body on mine as his pubic hair ground hard against my mound and there was finally no more cock to force into me. He paused, buried his full length inside my body and for what seemed an age we stared into each other’s eyes as if coming to terms with the enormity of what had just happened.

A man - a real man not one of my husband’s fantasies - had forced his erect cock deep into my vagina and I had let it happen. Over twenty years of fidelity had slipped easily away like a second skin leaving me naked, exposed physically, emotionally and morally.

And I had wanted it badly and had wanted it for a long time.

Then before my mind could adjust to my new status as a fallen woman, my first ever lover began to fuck me!

Starting in almost nervous, tentative slow thrusts, Tony slowly drew himself back until only his smooth, oh-so-thick head was still inside me, stretching my entrance. The new sensation was exciting; amazing with just a tiny hint of discomfort as my body adjusted to the unaccustomed size of the invading phallus. Then he thrust himself forwards sharply. I gasped in pleasured surprise as he forced his erection into me, my tightly stretched inner lips again feeling every ridge and undulation on his shaft, something I hadn’t felt with Peter since our youngest was born.

God! It felt good!

Tony pulled back again and for a moment I found myself wishing he was longer so the amazing sensations would last and last. Then he thrust himself into me again, this time with much more force.

“Oh my fucking God!”

I heard my own voice gasping aloud as his hips slapped noisily against my inner thighs and his pubic hair rasped again against my mound.

“Did I hurt you?” his voice sounded anxious.

“Christ no!” I hissed.

Again he pulled back and thrust hard into me. Again I gasped aloud. Again he thrust into me. And then, as if twenty years of pent-up of frustration and passion was let loose in a single moment, Tony began to fuck me like a man possessed.

Oh my God! Did that man fuck me! Harder and harder, faster and faster, the girth of his cock stretching me terribly and wonderfully at the same time until within the first minute I felt my first climax building.

Jesus! I had never reached orgasm that quickly before! Almost before my brain could register the powerful signals my body was sending, I felt the wonderful wave of climax wash over me.

“NnnnnnnnGgggHHHHH” I heard myself half moaning, half grunting.

“Are you alright?” Tony’s voice sounded anxious but he didn’t slow his thrusting. I simply nodded, my eyes staring into his.

“Dontstopdontstopdontstop!” I hissed.

Tony he smiled and redoubled his efforts. Moments later a second wave hit me, then a third, each slightly stronger, slightly longer lasting than the last.

How could this be happening to me? Me! Penny; a fifty-one year old mother whose vagina had been loosened so badly in childbirth, had just reached my third climax within three minutes of penetration!

“Ooooooohhhhhhh”

My voice soared with the pleasure, now as great as any climax my husband had given me in many, many years.

“OhhmmmyyyGoddd!”

But there was more to come; Tony adjusted his angle, lifting his body higher and making his cock grind more firmly against my clitoris.

“Oh my fucking Goddddddd!”

My body shook as his cock found its mark, grinding across my engorged and sensitive nub. Above my moaning, the room filled with the loud, almost obscene sounds of his body slamming into mine as his lust drove him onwards.

Pinned helplessly underneath his tall, strong body, escape from the onslaught would have been impossible but in truth was the last thing on my mind. As much as he wanted me, I wanted him, begging my body to open for him, to take as much of him into me as I could, and yet to stay tight around the shaft that was bringing me so many wonderful sensations.

A fourth climax hit me, stronger than any I had ever experienced in my life, then a fifth, so powerful it hurt me, choking off the breath in my throat and silencing my climactic wailing.

Tony’s eyes were glazed with lust as he fucked me harder and harder. Beneath him and quite beyond distinguishing pleasure from pain, my fuddled brain span. I could feel my abused vagina screamed loudly at me, its inner lips stretched tightly around the shaft that penetrated it deeply and repeatedly. I could feel the pleasure still building within me, already beyond any previous orgasm yet I could tell that another, even more overwhelming climax was still there to be had, still building slowly within me, new, exciting, incredible, making me feel... the words wouldn’t come into my mind.

Why hadn’t I let this happen long ago? Why had I wasted so many years not knowing what it felt to be truly fucked; to feel this gorgeous man’s body inside mine?

I stared up into the handsome face of the man who totally controlled me now, my hands on his strong shoulders, then on his back, then his waist, pulling hard as if trying to draw him into me completely. A bead of sweat fell from his forehead onto my lips and I licked its saltiness, revelling in the earthy reality of what was happening to me.

Faster and faster he thrust as he lost control, grinding my back hard into the rug and twisting my thighs grotesquely wide. His strokes lost their rhythm, growing short and stabbing. I dug my fingernails into his sides, then his arms, then his neck as he grew closer and closer to his climax and the huge wave building within me grew closer and closer to breaking over me.

For a split second it dawned on me that he was about to cum; that Tony was about to ejaculate within me; that my body was about to receive another man’s semen for the first time in over twenty years. I could have stopped him there but to my shame it never crossed my sex-fuddled mind. All I could think of was how to make the huge wave of pleasure and pain break over me; how to have that mightiest of orgasms that I had never understood existed but which I now craved with every cell in my body.

I clamped down on his cock as hard as my battered pelvic floor would allow in the hope that this last burst of sensation would tip me over the edge and into... I didn’t know or care what. Tony’s thrusts lost all remaining rhythm and then suddenly without further warning, his handsome face became ugly; twisted and contorted merely inches above mine as his body tensed and spasmed with the force of his own orgasm.

For a moment I felt his thick cock grow thicker still and cried out as it stretched me, then his whole lower body began to throb and pulse as he began to ejaculate

“Oh yes!” I heard a voice barely recognisable as my own crying out. “Yes, yes, pleeeeease!”

Tony’s breath came in crude, animal like grunts in time with the throbbing of his cock as his semen began to spurt into me. Clenching his buttocks, he drove his pulsating cock as deep into my body as his strength would allow, driving me hard along the floor, grinding his pubic hair roughly into my mound as my back and buttocks rasped painfully against the carpet.

It felt simply incredible, wonderful. I felt incredible too, desirable and desired, a real woman again after so many years of being just a wife and mother! A real, handsome man had wanted me so badly he had actually taken me forcefully on my own lounge floor, in my own house, filling my body with his life-creating seed which was even now being smeared over my cervix.

And on the way he had showed me not only orgasms greater than I had ever experienced, he had also given me a glimpse of an even greater climax that I now knew was there waiting to be enjoyed.

It had been quite unlike the sex of Peter and my fantasies, but it had still been incredible as my trembling body could witness.

I hadn’t reached that full overwhelming orgasm, but it didn’t matter; I had glimpsed it and knew it was there. The climaxes I had reached had been enough for now; enough to make me tremble and tingle in their afterglow; enough to make me cry and laugh both at the same time. It was enough to let me know that the orgasm of my life was still deep inside me, waiting to be unleashed and that I wanted to unleash it.

Eventually Tony’s thrusting slowed to a halt, the throbbing of his cock ceased and he held himself motionless over me, his face inches above mine. I could smell the stale railway coffee on his breath still as we both panted. A drop of sweat fell from his forehead onto my cheek as his strong, thick erection began to soften rapidly, leaving an unfamiliar feeling of emptiness as my gaping vagina struggled to contract around his shrinking shaft.

Our eyes locked together, his pupils huge, black and framed by rings of deep desirable brown. I could feel tears welling in my own eyes and blinked them quickly away as he lowered his weight onto me, pressing me hard into the floor. My hands fell from his shoulders to my side, my legs unfolded themselves from around his thighs and I lay almost lifeless beneath the man who after so many years of friendship had just completely conquered me.

A moment later I felt his flaccid cock slip easily from my body and bit my lip as the emptiness hit me. Taking his weight on his knees, Tony lifted himself up and rolled off my motionless body to lie close alongside on his back. I felt his right hand fumbling for my left then my fingers were entwined with his.

“Christ I’ve waited a long time for that,” he gasped, panting then turned his heat towards mine. “Are you okay?”

I turned my head silently and looked at him. His trousers and underpants were bunched ludicrously around his ankles; his shirt was still neatly fastened; his tie still tied though hopelessly askew; he hadn’t even had the chance to take his shoes off. It would have been funny if what we had just done hadn’t been so serious.

I looked at myself lying alongside him. My legs were splayed open, the half- shredded tights and twisted knickers which had bound my ankles together were yards away. My knees and thighs were still grotesquely spread apart displaying brazenly the swollen, wet, sticky triangle above. I must have looked like a giant frog but for a moment felt frozen, unable even to close my legs and cover my brazenly exposed and extremely messy vulva.

It really had just happened; Tony really had just made love to me, not just in my fantasies but it real life, on our lounge floor.

What in God’s name had we just done?

“Penny? Are you okay?” he asked again, his voice now low and anxious.

“I’m… I’m fine, Tony.” I said softly, staring at the ceiling, wondering whether I had just made the biggest mistake of my life.

I felt a small trickle of liquid run from my vagina, down my buttocks and onto the carpet. Slowly I brought my legs together as if trying to hide the shame of my defilement from view; as if it were possible to recover a little modesty after what had just happened.

And what had just happened? Twenty years of almost complete fidelity had been cast aside; my honour simply handed over without resistance to this man; this wonderful, handsome man who had made me feel so... so... incredibly desirable and yet...!

I felt a tingle on my cheek.

“Penny! Don’t cry, please don’t cry!”

Tony’s voice was soft and reassuring as he hugged me, kissing away the tiny tears that had begun to roll down my face. I felt warm in his arms and comforted and we lay together for what seemed a long time.

“I’ve dreamed of making love to you for so long,” he whispered holding me close. “But I never actually thought it would happen.”

I nuzzled his neck, my naked lower body starting to shiver a little, whether from a chill in the room or an after effect of my infidelity I couldn’t tell.

“Are you okay about it? You did want it, didn’t you? You didn’t feel forced? I know I got a bit carried away…”

“I’m okay,” I interrupted, still overwhelmed. “It was lovely and I did want it, it’s just that...” I paused, my throat dry.

“It’s just that you’ve never cheated on Pete before and you’re not sure it was a good idea or what might happen next?” he filled in the missing words with uncanny accuracy.

I nodded.

“What do you want to happen next?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Tony. I can’t think straight right now.”

“You need some time to think about it?”

I nodded again. “I need to try and understand what just happened and why. Is that bad?”

He chuckled.

“How long have we known each other? Twenty years? I think I can wait a little longer if there’s a chance of making love with you again.”

I kissed him on the cheek, tears once again running down my face. But Tony hadn’t finished.

“Whatever happens, I don’t want to lose you as a friend Penny. I’d prefer to be a lot more to you than that but I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

Now I was crying properly, feeling his kisses on my face and neck, acutely aware of the cool wetness between my thighs that screamed out my sin. After another few minutes the clock in the hallway began to chime.

“Oh my God!” I exclaimed, pushing him away and sitting bolt upright. “It’s six already and Pete will be home in half an hour!” I looked around at the room and at myself. “I can’t let him see me like this!”

I began to stand up but stumbled over the tangle of panties tights and shoes by my feet. Tony grabbed my hand to steady me.

“I’d better go!” he began. “Unless...” he started pulling up his underpants and trousers, his flaccid cock dark and sticky.

“Please Tony,” I pleaded. “Please just go! Let me sort things out by myself.”

“Are you sure? If you need some moral support…”

“I’m sure. Please just go!”

“Of course!” he finally fastened his trousers and turned towards the door then span back towards me. “You’ll call?” he asked anxiously. “You promise? You don’t hate me?”

I response I kissed him once, hard on the lips, my naked vulva and legs pressed against the rough wool of his trousers.

“I don’t hate you! I’ll call. I promise!” I replied then hustled him out of the house, making sure none of our neighbours could see my nakedness through the open door.

*

I watched from behind the curtain as Tony’s car reversed quickly down the driveway, the large automatic doors opening as his car approached them closing behind him.

My breathing slowly began to return to normal and my trembling slowed for a moment before I remembered that Pete really would be home in much less than half an hour. Gathering my discarded clothes together I rushed upstairs and into the shower where I desperately tried to wash away at least the physical traces of my guilt.

As I climbed the stairs I could feel Tony’s semen leaking from my vagina and running down the inside of my thigh. I felt dirty, ashamed, guilty beyond expression but even then there was no denying the height of arousal and pleasure my first ever adultery had produced.

Adultery! I was an adulteress. Oh my God!

After scrubbing myself until my skin hurt and hastily drying myself on a large bath towel, I quickly looked in the large mirror above the sink. To my surprise, the person looking back was still me – admittedly a pink face and red-chested, dishevelled me with slightly puffy lips and no make-up – but I hadn’t grown horns, a pointed tail or the mark of Jezebel on my forehead. There was nothing in my face that screamed out that I was now a fallen woman; that I was no longer the innocent wife and mother that I had been only that morning; that another man’s semen was even now swimming about inside my once-faithful body.

So much for my face, but as I looked more closely at my body, clearer signs began to emerge. There were small bruises on my boobs and on the inside of my thighs but carefully-chosen clothes would hide these. My well-used vulva was swollen, dark and surprisingly sore but again that could be concealed, at least for the moment.

I hurriedly pulled on a pair of jeans and a high-necked shirt to cover the evidence of my guilt.

There could be no possibility of sex with my husband that night; the marks on my body would be obvious to him and despite the fact that he had urged me so strongly and so often to take a lover, I wasn’t anywhere near ready to confess all and, at that moment, wasn’t sure I ever would be .

Returning quickly downstairs I threw my still-damp panties into the washing machine - the torn tights were beyond saving - then opened all the windows in the lounge to let the fresh air cleanse the room of the smell of recent sex. I straightened the cushions on the couch and turned on the coffee machine just in time to see my husband’s Porsche slowly approaching along the driveway and pulling up near the house.

As he climbed out of the driver’s door and retrieved his briefcase from the back seat, I felt a tiny trickle of Tony’s semen begin to leak from my vulva and run messily down my inner thigh.

God help me, I silently prayed!

*

My prayers were answered; Pete was been perfectly normal and cheerful the whole evening. If he noticed anything he didn’t mentioned it and even made a half serious attempt to start one of our cuckold fantasies as we watched the late news together. He was easily put off this time but as we went upstairs to bed he insisted once again that it would be okay with him if I did start an affair.

I watched him go into the en suite bathroom then undressed quickly, hiding my second pair of semen-soaked knickers in the bottom of my drawer. Before pulling on my pyjamas, I took one last look at myself in the full length mirror on the closet door.

The marks on my boobs were hidden; my pink-flushed chest less noticeable than I had feared. The dark gash between my legs was still sore and swollen but the evidence was fading quickly. Would my feelings of guilt fade with it, I wondered?

But did I really feel guilty? Really guilty? After all, hadn’t my husband urged me to have sex with another man?

As the night progressed painfully slowly, the answer to that last question became painfully clear; I felt as guilty as sin; disgusted and ashamed of myself.

But the more disgusted I felt, the more vivid the memories of what had occurred became.

And the more vividly I remembered how incredible my adultery had felt, the more I wanted to repeat it.

And the more I wanted to repeat it, the more guilty, disgusted and ashamed I felt.

And so it went on for what seemed like hours. Sleep was impossible; my mind and stomach working as a team to keep me from anything that might ease my conscience. Hours later I lay wide awake alongside the father of my children, listening to Pete’s slow breathing.

Though I hadn’t made it difficult, the seduction – such as it was - had been wonderfully exciting. Being made to feel so attractive after all these years had been incredible; being stripped by a strong handsome man in my own lounge had been amazing too and as for the sex…

With middle age a reality and after giving birth to three children I hadn’t expected anything to feel that good ever again, but it had been simply mind–blowing. I had reached orgasm faster and more frequently than ever in my life before. What was more, I knew for certain that there was a greater, deeper orgasm still to be enjoyed, waiting in the darkness for me if only I could get there.

And I now knew it was there, I really, really wanted to feel it.

But how? In over twenty years, my warm, loving husband hadn’t brought me as close to this hitherto unsuspected climax as Tony had during our very first copulation.

But was I really the kind of wife who cheated on her husband? Even if Pete had made it clear he wanted me to?

The answer to that was, once again, an unequivocal yes. There could be no debate; I had already become an unfaithful wife; a slut; a whore. In truth, I was no better than Tony’s estranged wife Julie and her young lover. If anything I was far worse; Tony was one of our closest friends; we had gone on holiday together as two families many times.

What would my husband say if he found out I had betrayed him with one of his closest friends? When he found out, I corrected myself because this couldn’t be kept secret forever.

And far, far worse, what would our three kids think if they ever discovered their mother had slept with their best friends’ father?

I groaned slightly as I rolled over in bed. My body ached from Tony’s unfamiliar onslaught, my hips and thighs were stiff and the soreness between my legs was a constant reminder of both the immense pleasure and impending guilt that the day had brought.

I turned to look at my newly cuckolded, oblivious husband as he slept and wondered how long I would be able to call him by that name.

Could our marriage survive this? What on earth would happen now?