Thirteen Steps free porn video

"Oh shit!" my lover gasped, as he heard the footsteps coming up the steps. "I thought you said your husband was out of town!"

I collapsed, laughing. His huge cock that I was so fond of shrank instantly. It almost looked like my husbands' like that. Unlike his though, it would grow quite a bit bigger, with the right encouragement. Nine and a half inches at full mast. I know, because I measured it. My husband wasn't lacking, but his not quite seven inches just couldn't compete.

"Don't panic, baby. The hubby is three states away, busy making money to keep me in the style I deserve. That's just Wilfred."

"Who the fuck is Wilfred?" he asked, watching the door closely.

"Wilfred is our ghost. He's harmless. I'd tell you about him, but I've got something else on my mind just now. I'll tell you when we're done."

I dove down, licking and sucking with enthusiasm, loving the way it felt as it grew to the point I almost couldn't keep it in my mouth. I still couldn't deep throat him, but I was working on it.

When he was as hard as he was going to get I switched ends, getting on my knees and wiggling my ass.

He wasn't exactly gentle, ramming his monster into me quickly, but this wasn't our first go round of the night, and I was more than lubricated. I screamed, beat the bed with my hands, squealed as he mauled my tits, twisting the nipples as he got closer to his eruption. He fucked me through three orgasms before he blew. Despite it being the third time tonight, he filled me to overflowing. We fell down on the bed together, and I rolled him on his back, and did what I called 'clean up duties'. When his cock was shiny and clean, I lay back, resting my head on his stomach.

Damn it all, if he was fifteen years older and had any money, my hubby would be history so fast archaeologists would have a hard time finding him. That was a lie. I loved my husband, At least I thought I did. These last few months had me rethinking that. How could I love someone and still betray him so badly? Still working that out.

But my boytoy was in college and broke, pursuing an English degree. He had dreams of being a teacher. Lots of bucks there, I'm sure. Nope, he was just a fuck toy, plain and simple. I'm sure sooner or later I'd get tired of him and his equipment. But I had a taste now, and I knew I would be on the prowl for a replacement as soon as he left.

He toyed with my hair while I blew hot air across his cock, giggling when it twitched. I might just get another ride out of him tonight.

"Who the fuck is Wilfred?"

"This house is a hundred and five years old. Wilfred was the original owner. He built this monstrosity for his wive and the thirteen kids they ended up with. Unfortunately, his wife was fucking around on him, and she and her lover heard him coming up the steps on a night he was supposed to be out of town. Known for his bad temper, she panicked, grabbed a shotgun and blew his head off, just as he reached the top of the stairs. If you peel off the new wallpaper we installed a few years ago, you can still see the blood spatter on the original woodwork. One of the oldest children heard the noise and discovered them. His testimony led to them both getting hung. Wilfred's buried in the family graveyard at the top of the hill behind the house. No one really knows where they buried his wife or her lover. Right after that people started hearing the steps, but could never find anybody, so legend has it that Wilfred keeps climbing those stairs at the same time every night, hoping for a better ending. It's been documented for the last ninety-three years, and he's never hurt anybody."

I keep forgetting how young he was. He listened like a kid at a campfire while the counselors told ghost stories. "Doesn't it creep you out?"

I shrugged. "It's creepy the first few times, but you get used to it. I hardly ever think about it anymore. He was actually company when hubby wasn't around, until I found you. Josh is Wilfred's great-grandson. He resembles Wilfred, especially when he sports facial hair.

I don't like the way it feels, so I make him stay clean shaven."

"Your husband must be a first class pussy, the way you boss him around."

I had to giggle again. The only thing big about Damien(Yes, Damien)is his cock, sprouting out of a slender body, five-nine and a hundred forty-five pounds. I did a side-by-side comparison in my mind, and giggled again. Josh was six-one and two hundred five pounds, very, very little of it fat. He's an excellent lover, if he just had another two inches I would have never strayed. It would be very, very, very ugly if he ever found out. And at the very least, I'd be looking for a new home.

"He's not a wimp, honey, he's in fact a strong and virile man, who could probably kill you without breaking a sweat. That's why I make absolutely sure he's never in the same state when we get together. He just does what I ask because he loves me. And trust me, if he doesn't want to do something, no force on earth can make him. But enough about him, ready to go again? You haven't done my ass yet, and it's a little jealous."

I'd been stroking him lightly while we talked, pausing for a long, slow lick now and then. When I said 'ass' he got iron hard. Soon as he had me loosened up with the butt plug, he fucked the shit out of me, literally.

The next morning we showered together, going back to bed for another round. Then we went back to the shower, where I ended up blowing him. I swear, I think he was getting hard again when I gave him a hundred dollars for gas money and sent him back to the dorms. Hey, I wasn't paying him to fuck me, but I was grateful, and college guys are always broke.

I sighed as I stripped the bed, opening the windows to get the smell of sex out. I liked the smell, but I doubt Josh would, especially since he didn't cause it. As usual after my lover left, I started feeling guilty. I should end it while I'm ahead, and safe from discovery. Without a doubt, if he ever found out, the situation would end in 'D' words. Divorce if I was lucky, death if I wasn't. I'd seen Josh lose his temper twice in his life, and neither time was pretty.

The first time occurred about two years after we got married. We'd stopped at a light. There was a bus stop on that corner. It was pouring down rain, and three big guys were pushing a young girl out into the downpour, laughing like crazy. Josh was out of the car before I knew it. He helped the girl up, they'd pushed her down that time and she landed in a puddle.

She was almost hysterical and Josh soothed her while the boys, late teens at least, continued to laugh.

"Miss, would you like us to take you home, or at the very least to another bus stop? Or would you prefer we stay until your bus arrives? I'm sure these gentlemen(the sarcasm heavy in his voice as he said gentlemen)would be happy to share the cover with you."

The young guys had obviously been drinking, and it made them brave. "Fuck off, asshole, before we have to teach you not to mess with the Hidden Valley Romeos."

Josh actually laughed. "What kind of name is that? It sounds like it would belong to a gay boy band. Is that it, you wanted to share a romantic interlude with each other and didn't want her to see it? Relax, being a queer isn't that bad these days. I'm sure your parents still love you."

They were so stunned they didn't know what to say at first. Then the anger kicked in. One pulled a knife, and I cringed as it snapped open.

"You just fucked up, dickhead. You're gonna have to pay for that. Gimme your money, and if it's not enough we'll take it out in trade with your ol' lady. She looks hot."

"Josh had been standing there with a half-grin on his face until he mentioned me. Before anyone could react, he slapped one, bring his hand down instead of across, the pop extremely loud, blinding the man temporarily. Josh just kept moving, shooting a side kick out, dislocating the kneecap of a second, leaving only the guy with the knife.

"Take your best shot, pussy boy. I'm gonna take that little blade away from you, use it to whittle out your ass so I can get my hand inside. Then I'm going to jam it so far up you you'll taste the shit coming out of your throat. Now would be a good time to run."

He'd taken off his jacket, and had wrapped it around his arm. Then he started for the boy. Just before he got to him the boy threw down the blade and ran by him. Josh had timed it right, and just as he cleared the cover he got a tremendous kick in the ass. Bladeboy slid through a puddle, face down, getting soaked. He didn't look back for his friends as he ran away. They had gotten up, and were hobbling away as fast as they could. He stepped in front of them, pointing at the girl.

"She has my name and number. One more repeat of the bullshit we just went through, and you'll never, ever make that mistake again, because you'll be dead. Now crawl back under your rock before a predator finds you and eats you for the worms you are."

I was still shaking as we waited until the bus picked up the girl. "Don't ever do anything like that again! You could have been killed!"

He actually laughed. "There was a better chance of me being struck by lightning than those idiots hurting me. They were drunk, and stupid. It didn't exactly make them dangerous, unless they would have pulled a gun."

Curiosity got the better of me. "What would you have done if they'd pulled a gun?"

There was no emotion at all in his voice as he adjusted the rear view mirror. "Why, I'd have shot them, of course."

I had forgotten because he never flashed it, but he had a conceal carry permit and always carried a pistol. He'd been in the Army, and when he got out he spent four years in a private security outfit over there, saving every dime to start his company. To put it bluntly he'd seen and learned a lot. I suddenly quit worrying, there was nothing he couldn't handle. It was just hard to reconcile the clean shaven man in a crisp suit with the pictures I'd seen from his time over there, in dirty body armor holding a weapon, a scowl on his bearded face. I should have. But hey, he was just an administrator, he left the rough stuff to the professionals, or so he told me.

The second time his anger came out was at a pool party the neighbors were having. I had on a pretty daring bikini, hey, I was proud of my body. I worked really hard to get it to where it was. I'd had a few over my limit and was a little flirty, and a guest from out of the neighborhood got the wrong signal. When he got aggressive I snapped at him.

"If you don't stop this shit right now, I'm going to scream for my husband, and he'll come over and fuck you up! Back off!" I must have gotten a little loud, because people were looking at us.

It embarrassed him, and he lashed out. "You slut! Rub up against me all day, lead me on, and when it comes time to prove up you want to scream for hubby? Fuck you!" He grabbed my top, yanking it off, laughing the whole time.

Josh just seemed to appear, grabbing the guy and slinging him. We all heard the splash, but the women were trying to get me covered up, and the guys were ogling my boobs, so no one was paying attention to the pool until a woman screamed.

"Get him out! Quick, before he kills him." My breasts were instantly forgotten, the sight of Josh standing in about four feet of water, smiling, holding the man under as he thrashed and bubbled. It took three men to pull him off enough to let the asshole breathe. The party was over, the only reason he didn't press charges when he could talk again was because if he did, I'd swear out warrants for sexual assault, and assault and battery.

It was a quiet ride home. We were almost there when I worked up the nerve to ask if would have really killed him. His answer sent chills up my spin. "Yes. And Cora, I think it would be a good idea if you never wear that bikini again."

It was in the trash the next day.

...

I didn't mean for it to happen. Famous last words, I know. Josh had been gone two weeks, and I was getting a little stir crazy sitting at home. Penny called me up, wanting to go out, have a few drinks, maybe dance a little. She was in the same boat I was, her husband traveled, a lot more than Josh. I knew what she did, and warned her that sooner or later she was going to get caught, but she'd just laugh and say Henry was so in love with her if she ever did get caught, his forgiveness was a given. We'd socialized a few times with them, and I got the vibe that Henry wasn't the forgiving sort. Whatever though, it wasn't my life.

Lately she'd developed the habit of driving to the next town over and cruising the bars that catered to college students. There was a pretty big university there, and to say the least, it was a target rich environment. After making it clear, we were staying in town, I agreed to meet for dinner and a few drinks.

I might have overdressed a bit, but I had been cooped up in the house, and thought I might as well look good. I even wore my shortest skirt, with thigh highs. A bra and panty set that was risque even for me, and I was all set.

We were to meet at a local hotel that had one of the best restaurants in the area. She smirked when I strolled in, looking me over.

"Bitch. If I had known, I'd have slutted up a little more. I look like your mother compared to you."

I took in the short red dress, the ton of cleavage she was showing, the yards of leg going down to four inch heels. If she looked like my mom, I had a whore for a mother.

The meal was excellent, the bottle of wine we had making it even better. When it was over, I thanked her for getting me out of the house and prepared to leave.

"Oh no, missy, we're going into the bar and have a proper drink or two, and take in the beefcake. And don't worry, I'll play nice, and we'll leave alone."

An hour and three really strong drinks later, I was feeling really good. The band started, and the 'gentlemen' started asking us to dance. Why not, I thought, it's just dancing, in public. What harm could it be.

We danced, most of the fast ones and all of the slow ones. I couldn't tell you how many boners rubbed against me, or how many times I had to remove hands from my ass. After two hours, it was just easier to let them stay there.

There was a group of college students there. They looked so out of place I asked what they were doing. Penny laughed.

"Hunting."

I was just buzzed enough to not understand. "Hunting what?"

Penny laughed harder. "Cougars."

...

One man was getting persistent, and a little too handsy. I tried to be polite, but he kept pushing. I finally told him I was waiting on my boyfriend, and he laughed.

"You've been in here two hours with your buddy. There is no boyfriend. Let's quit pretending, get a room, and do what you came here for."

I slapped him. I didn't plan it, it just happened. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. The band had stopped, and the slap was pretty loud. Everyone looked, and a few laughed.

He was beyond pissed, and was reaching for me. I remember thinking it wasn't going to end well, when three young men inserted themselves between us. The smallest stood in the middle, right in front of me. Apparently he was the leader. The other guys looked like football players, big and mean.

"No means no, asshole. Run along now, I'm sure your mother is probably wondering where you are, out past your bedtime and all. Go home and let her tuck you in."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but the guys just grinned at him, and he spotted management making their way over, so he left. They intercepted him, walking him to the door and wishing him a good night. He took the hint.

"My heroes!" I said, giggling. I gave the two big guys a large kiss on the cheek, and the little one got one square on the lips. They started to leave but I stopped them, ordering them a round and insisting they sit with me. Penny, seeing the beefcake, dropped the guy she was chatting up and came back to the table.

To shorten the story, the drinks flowed, the music played. I danced with all three, but the little guy got my attention. I felt it poking into me during a slow dance. As it continued to grow, I stepped back. He just laughed and steered me to the darkest part of the floor. When we were as private as possible, he took my hand and placed it on the front of his pants. I was drunk enough to stroke it a few times, thinking it couldn't possibly be real. In the meantime, he had his hand slid under my skirt, rubbing my ass, slipping his hand over my thong, before he slid a finger inside me. I almost came, right there on the dance floor. It took all I had to remove his hand and lead him back to the table. Penny had a smirk on her face. She stood as I reached the table, handing me my purse.

"Time to go."

I thought we were leaving, but she headed towards the elevators. Seems she had reserved a room while I was dancing. The boys went right along with us.

Forty minutes later we were all naked. Penny was being double teamed by the big guys, and I was screaming as my boytoy filled me deeper than I'd ever thought possible. Penny and the boys actually stopped and watched for a few minutes. When he slid almost all the way out her eyes went wide.

I went in and out of consciousness, overcome by the feelings of pure lust. Something felt different, and I opened my eyes. One of the big guys was pounding me, while Penny was getting stuffed by my guy. They took turns screwing us for almost four hours, before they thanked us for a good time, and left.

We were a fucked out mess, but I had never been so sexually sated in my life. Penny managed to stagger over and flop into bed with me.

"I need to cuddle," she said, spooning up to me. I woke up five hours later, Penny wrapped up in my arms. I actually had her breasts in my hands. I started to pull away, but we were so covered with cum we had stuck together.

I separated from her slowly, hating the feeling. Then I went into the shower, turned the hot water on, and sat there, crying my eyes out. When I finally calmed down, I dressed, and woke Penny. When she staggered out later I had a pot of coffee on the table. She sat and sipped for a few moments, before she looked at me.

"Last night was a mistake, Penny. I don't blame you, well, not much anyway, but it can never, NEVER happen again. I love my husband, and don't want to lose him. We're to never talk of this, understood?"

She nodded, obviously thinking. "I agree, and he'll never hear anything from me. I rented the room, so there is no trail leading back to you. Tell your husband you went out with me for a few drinks, in case someone saw us. We ended up having too much to drink, and if he presses, tell him you spent the night here to avoid a drunk driving charge. I'll say this and then I'll shut up. I saw how much you got into it last night. Man, that boy was hung! You say you won't do anything like this again, but I know how big the temptation will be. If you decide to continue, be very careful. Call me if you need a cover story, and I'll ask the same favor from time to time."

I wasn't really comfortable with that, but she kind of had me over a barrel. We did the walk of shame to our cars in our wrinkled clothing. I took another long shower when I got home, and called Josh, desperate to hear his voice. He was happy to hear from me. I apologized for not talking to him last night, telling part of the truth, that I'd had drinks with Penny, and was a little buzzed when I got home, and went right to sleep. There was a few seconds of silence.

"Cora, I won't presume to dictate who you're friends with. But I have a bad feeling about Penny, and I've learned to trust my instincts. Watch out for her, I have a feeling she isn't the kind of friend you need."

I felt a moment of blind panic. If he was that perceptive, how could I hide what I'd done from him? We talked about what we'd do when he come back, he was taking a week off. He suggested a little vacation somewhere warm. I was all for it, thinking it would be a good idea to get out of town for a while.

When he came back the next week I was really careful to be exactly the same as I'd always been, which was lucky, because I always tried to destroy him with sex every time he was gone for a week or more. I worried I might feel a little loose, but it had been eight days, and apparently I felt the same. We went to the Bahamas for four days, and I got a really nice tan, especially my upper body, as the beach was designated topless. Josh always seemed to enjoy looking at my girls, and the fact that others were looking always turned him on a little bit.

"It's like waving a large steak in front of a starving man, then feeding him a peanut butter sandwich. They can look and lust, but I'm the only one that gets to touch."

I flashed back, remembering three sets of hands fondling them, pulling and licking both nipples at the same time, and flushed. He thought he'd embarrassed me and apologized.

"Take me back to the room!" I hissed, before burying my tongue in his ear. "The girls need handled, right now! And Josh, they need a firm handling, understand?"

It was kind of embarrassing being on the beach the next couple of days, the bites and bruises on my breasts plain to see, as well as one on both cheeks of my ass, but it was worth it.

...

Four months went by before he had to travel again, this time for three weeks. I was bored by the second week, but determined to be a good girl when there was a knock at my door.

Penny was there, with Brad, Bill, and Damien. My eyes went wide.

"Relax, honey. I just need to borrow your spare bedroom for a while. It's a lot safer than using a motel room. No trail. Why don't you take a drive or something? I promise I'll clean up when I'm done."

She held my secrets, so I reluctantly agreed. Even took the drive she suggested, staying gone for two hours. They were still there when I returned, so I slipped into the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. I was on my second glass when Damien walked in, naked, his huge cock swinging as he walked. "Surprise!" he grinned, then kissed me on the cheek before burying his head in the refrigerator, pulling a bottle of juice out. He poured a glass and sat beside me for a few minutes, making small talk, before he took my hand, guiding it down until it was wrapped around his cock.

Twenty minutes later I was naked and bent over the sofa, while he pounded me from behind. I felt the sofa shift and opened my eyes. Brad had come in and sat, his still wet cock inches from my face. I had completely surrendered by then, so I opened my mouth and took him in. By the time Damien was done he was rock hard, and they switched places.

"Clean," he demanded, holding my hair. I slurped and licked until he was all shiny. I could hear him laugh.

"From now on, you'll do this every time we're done. Understand? Then you'll thank me for fucking you. Got it?"

Brad wasn't Damien, but he still felt good. I believe I would have agreed to anything right then.

"Thank you, Damien, for making love to me."

He grabbed my hair, giving it a yank. "You're not listening. We don't make love, we fuck. And thank my cock, not me."

The humiliation was turning me on, so between moans, I got it out.

"Thank you, Mr. Cock, for fucking me. I really enjoyed it."

That must have pushed Brad over the edge, because he flooded me, then pulled it out and presented it to my face. "Clean it up, and thank me."

Blushing, I complied. I heard a noise and looked up. Bill and Penny were staring at me.

"I wondered where everyone went. God, Cora, what a slut you've become."

I flamed red, then Bill walked up, shoved his cock in my mouth, and said "My turn." When he was hard he bent me back over the sofa. When he was done, I had to clean and thank his cock while the others laughed.

After that, I was totally hooked.' Still we were very, very, careful. Penny had a minivan, and she would drive while the guys crouched down, not getting up until the garage door closed, even if it was dark. And I made sure I stopped playing at least three days before he came home, so I would feel "normal".

It had been almost a year, and we were beginning to get comfortable. Mistake. Big Mistake.

...

The older I got the less I liked Halloween. I think it was because every time it rolled around, it reminded me that Cora and I were still childless. We were getting close to the window closing, she was thirty-four now, and it looked like it wasn't going to happen. One of the biggest reasons, besides really, really wanting to be a parent, that it sucked was because the house and farm was tied up in a perpetual trust. It went to the oldest son to the oldest son. The only exceptions were if a death occurred before children were conceived, or if they had no sons. Then it automatically went to the second oldest son, and then to his heirs. It looked like my nephew Bob was going to end up with it if things didn't change. The trust also voided community property rules, in case of divorce. The farm could never leave the family.

My business had been growing steadily, and I was almost to the point of not having to travel. I was glad, because Cora always seemed a bit off every time I came home. In fact, the last few months she seemed to change. I'd catch her staring into space and smiling, and when I'd ask, she would say it was nothing and continue with what she was doing.

In fact, this was my last long trip. I was working with a movie company, partly as a security consultant, partly as a weapons master. I'd become fascinated with guns thanks to my time with Mike and Harry. It took some doing, but I even had the AK-47 and the shotgun I'd used while i was overseas. I had so many weapons now I had to get a Collectors' permit. My two partners and I had a consulting company, specializing in private security. I was the tech guy, they were the hands on people, often providing short term security personally. Mike and Harry looked kind of mean and scary, so they had little problem escorting clients.

I'm probably the only one in our company that knew that they really were mean and scary. Both had spent eight years in the military before 'the incident', as they called it. I never knew what it was, but rather than going through a bunch of unpleasantness, they were allowed to resign with full honors and benefits. They immediately went to work for the biggest private security outfit around, making five times what the government paid them.

I got to know them by accident, a kind of right time right place situation, and I helped them out of a jam. I was a tech geek, and they befriended me, making me work out with them until I was pretty proficient in a lot of things the military didn't exactly teach you. Most of my attitude in later life stemmed from my time with them. When my hitch was up they talked me into working with them. I really had no prospects back home, and the money was fantastic.

For the next four years, I spent large blocks of my time in sheer boredom, and a few widely spaced short spans(that seemed a lot longer at the time)in sheer, heart stopping terror. You remember all the television shows and movies where the handsome leading men handled the real danger, while some geeky guy sat in a van or safe room somewhere watching monitors? That was me, the man in the van.

I had no problem with that. It changed drastically one hot summer night, in a small city in a minor country. Some Middle Eastern princeling was being wined and dined by the locals, anxious for his money. There was a bit of dissent in the country over foreign investment, even if it was from people who looked and talked exactly like they did.

I was in the van, watching the security cameras, parked in the back. Everything was going smoothly until a big truck pulled up and twelve guys got, dressed in black, wearing full body armor and helmets with face shields. When one popped the two sentries at the back door with a silenced weapon, I knew shit had hit the fan. I also knew, with light vests and just sidearms, Mike and Harry were dead meat. I was screaming into the headset as I bailed out, landing on my belly.

The van was a rolling arsenal, and if you're not concerned with accuracy and just want to put a bunch of bullets in the air really fast, the AK-47 is just what you need. The boys had drilled it into my head a thousand times. "Body armor and helmets mean you go for the legs."

I was at the perfect angle, and mowed down every one of them except a guy who was lucky enough to be standing behind the truck. He looked at his buddies, looked at me reloading, and got the hell out of Dodge.

The second clip now seated, I emptied it, dropping the rifle and reaching into the van for my shotgun. Even with body armor, getting hit point blank with a magnum load of buckshot can ruin your day. It held ten in the tube and one in the chamber.

A couple were in decent enough shape to shoot back. I felt something tug my sleeve as I targeted them first, walking forward on autopilot.

Pump. Aim. Squeeze the trigger and pump again. I would have probably emptied it if Mike hadn't come out, both pistols in hand, the asset on his heels. He had just a second to take in the scene, screaming to get my attention.