Betrayal
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Betrayal Ch. 02 free porn video
By the time Peter got home for dinner, a barbecue in their back yard, Emma had pulled herself together from the puddle in which she’d been left following her overwhelming sexual experience of the morning.
Puddle was a literal term in this case: she’d nearly passed out from the intensity of her orgasm, floating for a good five minutes on a cloud of bliss, disoriented and not really caring. Flopping onto her side eventually in the cramped space, she realized the carpet beneath her was soaked.
Had that much lubrication flowed from inside her? That seemed impossible. Yes, she had been dripping wet, but not to the point where she could have drenched the carpet. Sticking her nose closer, she couldn’t detect the usual smell of her arousal (something she found embarrassingly enjoyable). The water in her bedside glass hadn’t been knocked over.
What had happened?
First, Emma needed to clean up. In the shower, her genitals were still throbbing enjoyably, so she brought herself off again, though it was quick, and to be truthful, not very satisfying — now that she knew.
She’d sprayed the wet carpet with stain remover just in case, then gotten the worst of the moisture dry by crawling around on her hands and knees with her hair drier. Yes, she could have fibbed and told Peter that she had spilled some water, but she couldn’t be sure the liquid, whatever it was, might not begin to smell strange.
The afternoon was spent on the Internet, researching female orgasms, something that turned out to be quite fascinating. It dawned on Emma, that she really knew very little about her own body. For example, before today, she’d never given her genitals more than a cursory glance.
By mid-afternoon, she suspected that she’d ‘squirted’, as they called it, something females who were very highly aroused could occasionally accomplish. It gave her a curious sense of pride to know that she was among these select few.
That led Emma to some video clips of other women squirting. Most of these were parts of rather cheesy or disturbing porno films and it made Emma uneasy to watch them. However one caught her attention and she couldn’t help but watch it several times, her libido kicking up a notch each time through.
The video clip, all of 1 minute long showed a woman having a ‘squirting orgasm’ and unlike most of the other videos she’d looked at, this one seemed very real. That was all very interesting, but what cranked up poor Emma was the fact that the woman was being fucked to her orgasm — by a man with a very large cock.
Sometime during the day, the woman’s sexual vocabulary had begun to expand. No longer was she using the correct medical terms for people’s private parts and what they did with them. She realized it gave her an additional thrill to use forbidden words: cock, pussy, fuck, screw, even cunt, and she began to mentally relate them to what was going on in her imagination.
And that imaginary sexual world included Derek screwing her with his apparently large male member to the most mind-bending orgasms possible.
With her husband’s arrival imminent, Emma didn’t dare treat herself to the release her overheated libido was demanding, so it was with more than a little sexual frustration that she erased the trail of her research from the computer (how could she explain it to staid old Peter if he stumbled over it?) and got up to get the dinner preparations underway.
She’d bought some potatoes to bake on the gas grill and it was a matter of minutes to make a tossed salad. Peter was the master of the barbecue, so she left the steaks to him. With no sign of him and no phone call to say why he was delayed, Emma grabbed her book and headed out to their tiny backyard.
In the middle of inspecting her small border garden, someone called her name. Looking up, she saw Derek out on his balcony, hair wet and a towel wrapped around his waist. Dear Lord! He was even better looking than she remembered.
‘Your garden looks very nice, especially from up here.’
Emma was quite flustered and more than a little embarrassed to have to talk to him, let alone realizing that she was just a slipping towel away from seeing what had been occupying her mind the whole day.
‘Um, thank you.’
‘Just a minute while I throw on some clothes. I have a question to ask you. Won’t be a minute,’ he finished over his shoulder as he went back inside.
Derek was a man of his word, and barely a minute had passed before he appeared on his deck, a mirror image of the one at her back door. Only a bit of fencing again separated them and it made her think of what had happened the previous evening when she’d spied on him and his lady friend.
He walked down to where Emma stood and smiled at her. She’d managed to gather her wits, but her pulse was going a mile a minute.
‘I saw you head out for a run today. Since I’m new around here, I was wondering if you could show me some good places. I hate running along the sidewalk, or out in the road.’
Emma forced herself to concentrate, and at least she was on solid ground discussing this.
‘There’s a wooded place about three blocks over, sort of a conservation area. It’s a great place to run, lots of interesting trails and not really crowded at all, as long as you stay away from the picnic areas on weekends.’
‘That sounds like just what I want. Would you show it to me sometime soon?’
‘Ah, yes, certainly.’ Emma felt like she was going to pass out. ‘When?’
‘How about tomorrow? I haven’t run in over a week, what with the move east and all.’ He stretched out with his arms above his head. ‘Got to get these kinks out.’
Emma hadn’t been looking at his arms, though.
Just then, she heard Peter calling her name from the house.
‘You’ll have to excuse me. My husband has arrived home from his golf game.’
‘Would you introduce us? I think it’s always good to know one’s neighbors other than to wave and smile.’
Peter appeared at the back door, and Emma could see from his lobster-red face that he hadn’t remembered to put on sunscreen again. ‘Who are you talking to?’
‘Our new neighbor. Come on out and meet him.’
The two men reached around the privacy fence where it stopped at the end of the deck, making their own introductions.
‘Why don’t you join us?’ Peter asked. ‘We have some beer, don’t we, Emma?’
‘I’ll fetch it,’ she said as she watched Derek, easily swing his body around the privacy fence.
When she came out with the beer, Peter raised his eyebrows. ‘You usually don’t drink beer, Emma.’
She handed the men their mugs and sat down before answering. ‘I’m just trying to be sociable, Peter, dear.’
The real reason was she felt something to steady her nerves was called for.
Peter and Derek hit it off like a house afire. Both liked the same football team (Patriots) and had actually grown up quite near each other, just outside of Providence, Rhode Island, so they were thick as thieves in no time.
Emma didn’t say too much, just looking at Derek as much as she could without appearing to stare, and gleaning information about him.
He was 31, had just gotten a job with a mechanical engineering firm in town and was far away from everyone he knew.
‘I don’t have a relative within a thousand miles of this place, and quite frankly, I’m feeling pretty lonely.’
Just at that point, Emma choked on her beer and both men gallantly patted her back until the fit passed.
Of course, Peter invited Derek to stay for dinner, and Emma joined them in the bottle of wine Derek provided, something she also seldom did. Needless to say, by the time dinner ended, she was feeling quite relaxed indeed. When Peter came forth with a cognac bottle and two glasses, she even asked him to go in for a third. Emma never drank spirits.
In any event, she found herself completely relaxed with Derek, and even managed to ma
ke one or two witty remarks, to which he laughed loudly. Once or twice, she thought she caught him ‘checking her out’ and she found that she liked that, too.
‘You know Peter, I envy a man like you. You’re settled in life, have a good job, a home, and if I may be so bold, a very fetching wife.’
Peter put his arm around Emma and gave her a kiss on her cheek. ‘Yes, I have been very lucky and Emma has added a lot to my life. Before I met her, I lived on frozen dinners and take out. Now when I arrive home, there’s a good meal prepared and someone who can listen to how my day went. You haven’t seen it yet, but she keeps our home spotless.’
It suddenly struck Emma that Peter hadn’t said anything about loving her, or that he agreed that she was ‘very fetching’. The way he talked about her, she could have been his housekeeper. Glancing over at Derek, she got the feeling that he was thinking exactly the same thing.
‘Well, I’ve imposed on you folks longer than is polite. I should be moving on now.’
‘Do you play golf?’ Peter asked.
‘Some.’
‘Fancy a round tomorrow?’
‘Thanks, but no. I fancy a run more and Emma has agreed to show me some trails nearby. Perhaps next weekend?’
‘I may be away on business,’ Peter said, ‘but let’s be sure to arrange something before the summer disappears on us.’
The two men shook hands and then Derek turned to Emma. ‘Thank you for a very lovely evening.’ He leaned forward, planting a kiss on her cheek, and it was everything she could do to keep from swooning. ‘What time should I knock on your door tomorrow?’
Peter said, ‘The boys asked me to play with them again tomorrow. Our tee time is 9:15. Emma usually sees me off.’
‘Would that work for you, Emma?’ Derek asked.
‘Perhaps 9:30?’ she squeaked, as her mind raced, realizing that she was going to be alone with this man in less than 12 hours.
‘Then 9:30 it is. Goodnight all.’
They both watched Derek swing around the fence again.
‘Nice guy,’ Peter told his wife. ‘Looks like he might have been quite an athlete.’
‘I’d say he still is,’ she replied, but she didn’t tell him what kind of athletics she was thinking of.
Peter was pretty tired from his day. Two rounds of golf under the hot sun takes its toll.
‘I’m going to hit the hay early tonight, dear.’
‘Peter, you big silly, you’re really rather sunburned. Why don’t I rub some cream on it? You’ll be more comfortable.’
As her husband checked his email before heading to the shower, Emma cleaned up the dinner dishes. The events in the past 24 hours had left her highly conflicted. How could she possibly be feeling this way about a man who was not her husband? It was wrong, wrong, wrong!
All through her years in college, Emma had kept a tight rein on her urges. Being so shy, she didn’t have anyone she could possibly have discussed them with. The best she could do was keep her ears open whenever any of the girls (and a handful of times, guys) talked about sexual matters. It was quite startling what college kids got up to. With her vivid imagination, it wasn’t hard for Emma to put herself into the described scenarios, and that always appalled her afterwards. She was a good girl and good girls certainly didn’t do those sorts of things!
Away from college, she wasn’t around people who gossiped about these kinds of things (imagine that happening in a school staff room!), so it was easier, but she always kept herself well away from temptation. When she’d met Peter and their friendship turned to marriage, Emma had looked forward to experiencing the things she’d only imagined, but their relationship had proved to be, well, disappointing in that regard. There was a sexual wall between Peter and Emma that she just couldn’t bring herself to breach. Peter didn’t seem to even notice. Both were just to embarrassed and uncomfortable to talk about things like what she had been imagining since the previous night.
Emma left the kitchen, determined to push Derek out of her mind. She owed that to her marriage. Somehow tonight, she’d have to breach the wall and reach out to Peter, even if it was only a little.
The couple always got undressed separately, usually Emma in the bathroom and Peter in the bedroom. Since it was summer, and neither liked air conditioning unless it was brutally hot, she wore a long tee-shirt and panties to bed. Peter wore light shorts. On the occasions that they made love, the lights were always turned out first, and it was done under the covers. Emma had only seen Peter’s penis out in the light a handful of times in the three years since they married.
She resolved that tonight would be different.
He was in the shower when she got to the bedroom. Shucking off her jeans and top, she quickly put on her sleep tee-shirt, but ditched the panties. Walking into the bathroom, she casually began rummaging in the vanity for the sunburn cream.
‘Emma! Do you mind? I’m still in the shower!’
She immediately felt a bit disheartened. ‘Peter, what’s the big deal? We are married, after all!’
‘It’s a privacy thing. I don’t walk in on you when you’re taking a shower.’
She grabbed the tube of cream. ‘All right. I’ll be waiting out in the bedroom.’
‘I’m perfectly capable of putting on my own sunburn cream.’
‘I’d like to do it for you, okay? It’s the least I can do for my husband!’
Emma sat glumly on the bed. Was she doing the right thing? What she’d seen and heard about on the Internet that day had her mind in a whirl. Certainly there was nothing wrong in doing those sorts of things with her own husband? He’d touched her intimately many times and she’d touched him, too, once or twice. He’d played with her breasts, sucking on her nipples, and although he’d never used his mouth on her private parts, he’d gotten very close, kissing down her chest to her stomach — but he’d had a lot to drink that night.
She knew she couldn’t ask Peter to do any of those things for her, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t try them on him. The sunburn cream would be the perfect way to sneak up on him, she thought with a shy smile. Nonetheless, she felt very unsure of herself. Could she go through with what she was thinking of doing? It might turn out to be very gross. Peter might rebuff her.
He came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and a vexed expression.
‘Emma, where’s the cream? I can’t find it anywhere.’
She held it up. ‘Right here.’
‘May I have it?’
‘No. I told you I want to put it on for you.’
‘How are we going to do that?’
‘You can lie on the bed on your towel so we don’t create any stains. I’ll do your legs and shoulders for you. They’re really badly burned.’
He sighed. ‘I suppose you’re right. I was pretty dumb today.’
To spare Peter any embarrassment, Emma ducked into the bathroom to use the toilet while he got settled on the bed. When she came out, he’d turned off the light.
‘Peter, dear, I can’t see what I’m doing in the dark.’
‘Nonsense! It’s light enough in here.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ she answered as she flicked on her bedside lamp and knelt on the bed.
Peter had never been particularly athletic. Golf was as strenuous as it got for him. In the years they’d been married, Emma thought he’d put on a good 20 pounds. Only five foot eight, the band of fat around his waist looked to put his excess weight closer to 40. That wasn’t good, but this was not the time to bring it up.
Squirting some cream onto her hand, she started with his shoulders and neck, bright red where his golf shirt hadn’t covered.
As she rubbed it in, he let out a soft sigh and Emma realized that they’d possibly never been more intimate than they were right now. Perhaps this would work.
Scooting down to the end of the bed, she began working on the backs of Peter’s legs. The burning here was less and not continuous, but she worked cream
into the length of them anyway. It felt good to touch him.
Her eyes were on his bottom. It wasn’t a bad one, she thought. Not as muscular as Derek’s, though. She realized that she found muscular bottoms very…interesting.
Firmly, Emma pushed that thought out of her brain.
The sunburn stopped mid-thigh where Peter’s shorts had reached, so she couldn’t go higher with her massaging. As she sat back on her heels, she mischievously considered giving Peter’s rear end a playful swat, but decided it might not be the best moment. He seemed very relaxed and Emma’s confidence rose. Things were going well.
‘I should do your front now, Peter, dear,’ she told him in a soft voice.
He put his head up and looked at her for a moment, and whether it was the beer, wine and cognac he’d consumed clouding his judgement, he didn’t question what his wife was asking, just heaved himself over.
Making sure he didn’t catch her looking at his ‘thing’ if he happened to be looking, she began rubbing cream onto her husband’s shins, which weren’t too badly burned. His thighs were another matter, though, and they’d taken a lot of sun. Unfortunately for Emma’s plans, Peter’s golf shorts were pretty long.
With greasy hands she started at both his knees, gently massaging in the soothing cream. Peter’s eyes were covered by his forearm, so she couldn’t gauge his reaction as her hands drifted higher.
Daring to raise her eyes for a quick peek, she saw that he was starting to get an erection. What was he thinking? Was his wife surprising him, delighting him, appalling him? What? Most importantly, though, she seemed to be turning him on — and that made her proud.
It was now or never. After shifting a bit closer, she reached out for his manhood with her left hand.
Emma had only touched her husband intimately a few times, and always in darkness covered by their blankets. There was something deliciously naughty about being out in the open, on top of the covers and able to stare at her husband’s most intimate thing.
As her hand closed around him, Peter’s eyes flew open and the breath caught in Emma’s throat.
‘What are you doing?’ he whispered tensely, his gaze shifting between her hand and her face.
Emma smiled as bravely as she could. ‘I, um, was curious.’
‘You’ve had too much to drink.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s not that. I really am curious.’ To reenforce that statement, she squeezed him gently. ‘Doesn’t it feel good?’
Peter now propped himself on his elbows. ‘That’s hardly the point.’
But Peter was very hard now, and his own consumption of alcohol further weakened any willpower he had. He flopped back down, clearly indicating that Emma could continue if she wished, not giving her permission, but not denying it, either.
Careful to keep the cream on the lower portion of his erection, she squeezed and rubbed like she’d seen done in one of the video clips on the Internet. Peter sighed.
She knew now he wasn’t particularly big nor fat around, but his penis was a good 5 1/2 inches and made a nice handful, she thought. Affecting him this way gave Emma a warm feeling down between her legs, and she could feel her wetness on the side of her foot as she sat with it curled under ‘down there’.
Peter’s hips had begun moving and his breathing was faster, both good signs. She knew he was close. Time to do one last thing.
Gathering her courage, she leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on the tip of her husband’s penis, something she couldn’t have imagined doing a mere 2 days earlier.
Peter’s response was an immediate gasp, but he didn’t shout out, didn’t push her away as she thought he might, so she opened her mouth and engulfed the crown, sliding down a bit farther for good measure.
Hia response astonished the naive woman. Peter’s hips rose up and a groan came from deep in his chest. His penis swelled and then began pulsating, spewing out his seed, first into Emma’s mouth and then all over her face as she quickly spit him out, shrieking with astonishment.
Now that his release was complete, Peter began yelling at Emma, demanding to know whatever had possessed her to do something like that.
Pansy
- 16.08.2021
- 13
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