“Are you sure you want to do this?” Paul asked with unsure voice, almost whispering as he stood still in front of the motel room door with his wife. It was well past midnight, the skies were so dark and the moon was nowhere to be seen, hidden behind the thick clouds, a light drizzle coming down as the weather forecast had announced terrestrial rain and thunders.
“It s like the 10th time you are asking me since we got in the car….and it wasn’t a long ride….30 minutes, right?” Emily answered him as she stood next to him, her hand in his, holding it tight, fingers intertwined, a faint smile across her bright red painted lips. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked him, repeating his question, not giving him a clear answer.
“I am only asking because you haven’t answered me a single time!” he leaned even closer to her, side of their bodies rubbing as he gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, sure he could feel her body temperature warm and full in the cold night, wearing that tiny outfit.
“Well, listen carefully….” she turned to face him, standing opposite to him as she leaned in to him and looked right and left to check if there were any people around.
They were in front of the room door of a sleazy highway motel. Not many cars were parked there, more trucks actually, drivers spending the night there before moving on with their trips first thing in the morning. The little porch they were standing on was quite squeaky and small puddles of water were already forming on it from the light rain and the lights were just barely enough to help them know where they were stepping on.
“I am ready to make your fantasy come true….ready as I will ever be….now or never!” she whispered in his ear, her lips and tongue feather tracing the outline of his ear lobe as her hand wend down to his crotch and gave it a firm squeeze. “I will go in there, fuck with the guy in there, and then come back to the car and tell you all about it….this is what you want!” she said exaggerating the “you” bit of her sentence as she turned to the door and knocked three times on it, her other hand still on his crotch.
A deep, manly voice was heard from the inside saying the door was open and then silence.
“So you gonna wait in the car or do you want to come in?” she asked as her hand turned the door handle and pushed the door open.
Paul didn’t reply, he only took a few steps back and reared himself against the wall as if he wanted to hide. He nodded at her to go in as his hand fell to his crotch and squeezes to make his erection sit better in his pants.
“As you wish,” were her last words and in the room she walked slowly.
The agonising, torturing, nerve wrecking part of the night had just started for Paul. The light from the inside of the room was so bright that he gave his wife one last look. Gosh, she was dressed so provocatively, so sexily, so sluttish even. Just a flimsy, thin, pink satin dress in the middle of the winter was all she had chosen to wear that night, It looked more like a nightie than a dress to go out in. Tiny thin shoulder straps holding it on her, her cleavage showing so profoundly, the small fragile dress struggling to hold her ample, fleshy tits in. It was cold enough to make her nipples poke through the dress and it was getting just more revealing looking lower. The dress was so short it was standing like a piece of fabric on her big ass, bound to ride up high if she walked fast or bend over. It had been years since she had dressed up similar to his, definitely 10-15 years. Now at the age of 41, it was the first time she had dared to go out dressed so sexily. And even lower, the heels, the heels were fuck me heels, the type the strippers wear. Black open toe platform, looking shiny and plastic, sort of looking cheap and sexy all together. Nothing more on her, no stocking, no underwear, no jewellery, nothing. She was dressed ready for a fuck, not a chance one would think otherwise if they saw her. And this was what Paul had agreed on her wearing. She had tried a couple of different outfits and this was the one Paul had “approved, the most sluttish, the sexiest.
The door was closed and Paul walked back to the car. He had parked it facing the room. He got in and switched the radio on as he looked at his wrist watch. 12 past 1 after midnight. He looked at it again thinking an hour had gone by and it was only 15 past 1. This was excruciating. His wife was in that room for one reason only, to get fucked.
They had talked about it for almost three years. He had revealed to her how it was his life long fantasy to send her out, let her have sex with another man and then have her himself after she was well enjoyed by this other guy. They had talked about it extensively, during sex and non sex times, with or without arguing about it, agreeing or not agreeing till they finally decided to do it. They found a guy on Tinder, much younger guy, in his early 20s, about 20 years younger than her. She went out for drinks with him for a couple of time and that night was their first sex date. She had told Paul how excited she was about it, how she really fancied the guy, and how she couldn’t wait to do it, have sex with another man after 22 years of marriage and being just with him.
Paul had all the time in the car to think, rethink, and double rethink about what was happening, about how he could handle it or not, about whether he was right to encourage the love of his life to try it. His thinking was a mess, tangled and messed up, thinking he was right and wrong ten times in a second. The only thing that didn’t change was his hard-on. Rock hard in his pants, looking at his wrist watch again and again, re-evaluating the saying that states that time flows by like a river, thinking this was all going so slowly.
Suddenly, the door of the room opened. Just Emily on the door. Wearing just a bathrobe, no shoes, nothing else on her. Running to the car as the rain now was heavier, it could get you real wet if you stood under it for a minute. Paul practically kicked the door open and tried to get out of the car thinking something had gone wrong.
“No no, wait!” Emily rushed to say in panting as she approached him and feel in his arms.
“ You ok?” Paul asked in agony.
“Yes….yes….fine….Paul….baby, he just fucked me once…and he wants more…we wont be long,” she said in the bluntest of ways she could say it.
“What?” Paul asked like a dork, not sure what she was asking about.
“ He is a fucking stud and he wants more!” she insisted and took his hand in hers. “Here, he just fucked me and he wants more!” he made his hand rub against her trimmed cunt lips.
Paul couldn’t actually control his hand, couldn’t actually control his thoughts or reactions. The moment his hand went past the bathrobe, he stuck his finger out and slid it into his wife’s pussy. She was so wet that he slid a second finger. She was so wet and full of cum.
“Yes….he cummed in me!” she said with husky voice.
“And you want more?” he asked, his two fingers wiggling inside her, mixing up this cocktail of her own nectar and this guy’s sperm cream.
“Yes, yes, I want more!” she gave him a hurried kiss on the lips and tried to pull away as if she didn’t care about the fingering.
“I didn’t say yes!” Paul tried to stop her.
“I only came here to tell you I will fuck more and not to get worried and to be patient, didn’t ask for a yes or no!” she said with the same husky voice, her face wet from the rain, her bathrobe having gone down her shoulder, her 36F tits totally ******* then.
“Do you still love me?” he asked and a loud thunder was heard, a bright lighting cut the sky in two.
“Not if you keep me here, look, he is waiting!” she showed at the room door.
Paul let her hand go and she ran to the door. The guy was there, naked, his cock showing all hard. He grabbed Emily’s shoulders the moment she reached him and threw the bathrobe off of her. There, naked both of them, they started kissing and groping so passionately. Hands all over, mouths eating each other, bodies rubbing like melting flesh. RIght there, in front of the door. The light of a car about to enter the parking space made them step in and shut the door. Only then Paul realised he had been wanking hard over his pants watching this few seconds unrehearsed sex show.
He got back in the car, his clothes all wet as the rain had gotten really heavy. The radio was playing “you know I am no good” by Amy Whinehouse. He looked at his watch again and it was 30 past two. More than an hour for their first fuck and they were going for more. He took his cock out of his pants and started wanking slowly again. The image of them kissing and groping stuck in his mind, so vivid and realistic he had to stop and edge to avoid cumming. All these questions flooded his head at the same time as he was bringing the image mentally back.
“Why did I play it hard to let her go? Why did I try to stop her? Why did I ask her if she loves me?”. And the answer he gave was always the same. “’cause I am stupid, ‘cause I am stupid, ‘cause I am stupid!”
He went out of the car to pick up the bathrobe the two of them had left laying outside the room in their hurry to get in. He thought he didn’t want the hotel staff to find it and knock on their door to give it back and ruin their fun. As he bent down to pick it up, he heard his wife….”fuck fuck me, me , fuck fuck me more!” was all he could hear. Her shouting and moaning so loudly, sure they could hear them from the adjacent rooms. He didn’t have the courage or the strength to stay and here more. He couldn’t take it, he would have to wank and cum as he heard if he did. Rushed back to the car and kept edging, rubbing the bathrobe on his cock, the only liaison he had at the moment with his wife.
The door opened again about an hour later. Wife and the guy kissed. Emily had her shoes in her hand, her hair all wet, most probably from all the sweating of the fucking. She walked slowly to the car looking so sluttish, so lewd. She brought the shoes up to her face to bite on the straps and hold them as she reached for her dress and lifted up making sure she showed her ass to the guy as she did her sex walk to the car. Paul show her talking, like trying to say something to him but he couldn’t hear, He brought the window of the passenger seat down a bit but still the rain was so heavy, he couldn’t hear. Emily walked to the window, threw the shoes in and leaned in.
“Will you take this slut home or don’t you let sluts in the car?” she giggled as she made her dress go down and ******* her tits.
“Was he good?” he asked as he nodded at her to step in, eyes fixed on his loved one that was looking like a proper street whore.
“Yes,” she just said and brought the sun visor down to look at herself in the small mirror. “Gosh, no make up stayed on!” she giggled.
“Better?” Paul asked again, cock in hand, not pushing his fist up and down but actually, squeezing his cock on and off.
“Yes, 2nd time was even better!” she giggled and turned to him, brushing his cheek with the back of her hand.
“Better than I? Paul asked in precise way now.
“Baby, it s been years since last time you fucked me twice in a row, what do you think?” she giggled louder and leaned in. Her hand went down, joined his for a second, pushed it away, wrapped her fingers around it and squeezed hard. “I came so many times!” she said and squeezed on and off.
Paul held his breath and said nothing, his whole body tensing, his mind going blurry.
“So many times, so hard, so deep!” she went on and did her cock teasing routine faster. “Thank you for letting me have him!” she said.
Paul erupted in silence, no moaning, just panting as his cock released his cum in the air and on his shirt and Emily’s hand.
“Ooops did I ruin it? I mean will you be hard again till we reach home so you can fuck me?” she giggled and rearranged her dress a bit. She gave him a long, deep tongue kiss and said: “Let’s go home!”
Paul turned on the car and drove….like a robot….
[to be continued]
“It s like the 10th time you are asking me since we got in the car….and it wasn’t a long ride….30 minutes, right?” Emily answered him as she stood next to him, her hand in his, holding it tight, fingers intertwined, a faint smile across her bright red painted lips. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked him, repeating his question, not giving him a clear answer.
“I am only asking because you haven’t answered me a single time!” he leaned even closer to her, side of their bodies rubbing as he gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, sure he could feel her body temperature warm and full in the cold night, wearing that tiny outfit.
“Well, listen carefully….” she turned to face him, standing opposite to him as she leaned in to him and looked right and left to check if there were any people around.
They were in front of the room door of a sleazy highway motel. Not many cars were parked there, more trucks actually, drivers spending the night there before moving on with their trips first thing in the morning. The little porch they were standing on was quite squeaky and small puddles of water were already forming on it from the light rain and the lights were just barely enough to help them know where they were stepping on.
“I am ready to make your fantasy come true….ready as I will ever be….now or never!” she whispered in his ear, her lips and tongue feather tracing the outline of his ear lobe as her hand wend down to his crotch and gave it a firm squeeze. “I will go in there, fuck with the guy in there, and then come back to the car and tell you all about it….this is what you want!” she said exaggerating the “you” bit of her sentence as she turned to the door and knocked three times on it, her other hand still on his crotch.
A deep, manly voice was heard from the inside saying the door was open and then silence.
“So you gonna wait in the car or do you want to come in?” she asked as her hand turned the door handle and pushed the door open.
Paul didn’t reply, he only took a few steps back and reared himself against the wall as if he wanted to hide. He nodded at her to go in as his hand fell to his crotch and squeezes to make his erection sit better in his pants.
“As you wish,” were her last words and in the room she walked slowly.
The agonising, torturing, nerve wrecking part of the night had just started for Paul. The light from the inside of the room was so bright that he gave his wife one last look. Gosh, she was dressed so provocatively, so sexily, so sluttish even. Just a flimsy, thin, pink satin dress in the middle of the winter was all she had chosen to wear that night, It looked more like a nightie than a dress to go out in. Tiny thin shoulder straps holding it on her, her cleavage showing so profoundly, the small fragile dress struggling to hold her ample, fleshy tits in. It was cold enough to make her nipples poke through the dress and it was getting just more revealing looking lower. The dress was so short it was standing like a piece of fabric on her big ass, bound to ride up high if she walked fast or bend over. It had been years since she had dressed up similar to his, definitely 10-15 years. Now at the age of 41, it was the first time she had dared to go out dressed so sexily. And even lower, the heels, the heels were fuck me heels, the type the strippers wear. Black open toe platform, looking shiny and plastic, sort of looking cheap and sexy all together. Nothing more on her, no stocking, no underwear, no jewellery, nothing. She was dressed ready for a fuck, not a chance one would think otherwise if they saw her. And this was what Paul had agreed on her wearing. She had tried a couple of different outfits and this was the one Paul had “approved, the most sluttish, the sexiest.
The door was closed and Paul walked back to the car. He had parked it facing the room. He got in and switched the radio on as he looked at his wrist watch. 12 past 1 after midnight. He looked at it again thinking an hour had gone by and it was only 15 past 1. This was excruciating. His wife was in that room for one reason only, to get fucked.
They had talked about it for almost three years. He had revealed to her how it was his life long fantasy to send her out, let her have sex with another man and then have her himself after she was well enjoyed by this other guy. They had talked about it extensively, during sex and non sex times, with or without arguing about it, agreeing or not agreeing till they finally decided to do it. They found a guy on Tinder, much younger guy, in his early 20s, about 20 years younger than her. She went out for drinks with him for a couple of time and that night was their first sex date. She had told Paul how excited she was about it, how she really fancied the guy, and how she couldn’t wait to do it, have sex with another man after 22 years of marriage and being just with him.
Paul had all the time in the car to think, rethink, and double rethink about what was happening, about how he could handle it or not, about whether he was right to encourage the love of his life to try it. His thinking was a mess, tangled and messed up, thinking he was right and wrong ten times in a second. The only thing that didn’t change was his hard-on. Rock hard in his pants, looking at his wrist watch again and again, re-evaluating the saying that states that time flows by like a river, thinking this was all going so slowly.
Suddenly, the door of the room opened. Just Emily on the door. Wearing just a bathrobe, no shoes, nothing else on her. Running to the car as the rain now was heavier, it could get you real wet if you stood under it for a minute. Paul practically kicked the door open and tried to get out of the car thinking something had gone wrong.
“No no, wait!” Emily rushed to say in panting as she approached him and feel in his arms.
“ You ok?” Paul asked in agony.
“Yes….yes….fine….Paul….baby, he just fucked me once…and he wants more…we wont be long,” she said in the bluntest of ways she could say it.
“What?” Paul asked like a dork, not sure what she was asking about.
“ He is a fucking stud and he wants more!” she insisted and took his hand in hers. “Here, he just fucked me and he wants more!” he made his hand rub against her trimmed cunt lips.
Paul couldn’t actually control his hand, couldn’t actually control his thoughts or reactions. The moment his hand went past the bathrobe, he stuck his finger out and slid it into his wife’s pussy. She was so wet that he slid a second finger. She was so wet and full of cum.
“Yes….he cummed in me!” she said with husky voice.
“And you want more?” he asked, his two fingers wiggling inside her, mixing up this cocktail of her own nectar and this guy’s sperm cream.
“Yes, yes, I want more!” she gave him a hurried kiss on the lips and tried to pull away as if she didn’t care about the fingering.
“I didn’t say yes!” Paul tried to stop her.
“I only came here to tell you I will fuck more and not to get worried and to be patient, didn’t ask for a yes or no!” she said with the same husky voice, her face wet from the rain, her bathrobe having gone down her shoulder, her 36F tits totally ******* then.
“Do you still love me?” he asked and a loud thunder was heard, a bright lighting cut the sky in two.
“Not if you keep me here, look, he is waiting!” she showed at the room door.
Paul let her hand go and she ran to the door. The guy was there, naked, his cock showing all hard. He grabbed Emily’s shoulders the moment she reached him and threw the bathrobe off of her. There, naked both of them, they started kissing and groping so passionately. Hands all over, mouths eating each other, bodies rubbing like melting flesh. RIght there, in front of the door. The light of a car about to enter the parking space made them step in and shut the door. Only then Paul realised he had been wanking hard over his pants watching this few seconds unrehearsed sex show.
He got back in the car, his clothes all wet as the rain had gotten really heavy. The radio was playing “you know I am no good” by Amy Whinehouse. He looked at his watch again and it was 30 past two. More than an hour for their first fuck and they were going for more. He took his cock out of his pants and started wanking slowly again. The image of them kissing and groping stuck in his mind, so vivid and realistic he had to stop and edge to avoid cumming. All these questions flooded his head at the same time as he was bringing the image mentally back.
“Why did I play it hard to let her go? Why did I try to stop her? Why did I ask her if she loves me?”. And the answer he gave was always the same. “’cause I am stupid, ‘cause I am stupid, ‘cause I am stupid!”
He went out of the car to pick up the bathrobe the two of them had left laying outside the room in their hurry to get in. He thought he didn’t want the hotel staff to find it and knock on their door to give it back and ruin their fun. As he bent down to pick it up, he heard his wife….”fuck fuck me, me , fuck fuck me more!” was all he could hear. Her shouting and moaning so loudly, sure they could hear them from the adjacent rooms. He didn’t have the courage or the strength to stay and here more. He couldn’t take it, he would have to wank and cum as he heard if he did. Rushed back to the car and kept edging, rubbing the bathrobe on his cock, the only liaison he had at the moment with his wife.
The door opened again about an hour later. Wife and the guy kissed. Emily had her shoes in her hand, her hair all wet, most probably from all the sweating of the fucking. She walked slowly to the car looking so sluttish, so lewd. She brought the shoes up to her face to bite on the straps and hold them as she reached for her dress and lifted up making sure she showed her ass to the guy as she did her sex walk to the car. Paul show her talking, like trying to say something to him but he couldn’t hear, He brought the window of the passenger seat down a bit but still the rain was so heavy, he couldn’t hear. Emily walked to the window, threw the shoes in and leaned in.
“Will you take this slut home or don’t you let sluts in the car?” she giggled as she made her dress go down and ******* her tits.
“Was he good?” he asked as he nodded at her to step in, eyes fixed on his loved one that was looking like a proper street whore.
“Yes,” she just said and brought the sun visor down to look at herself in the small mirror. “Gosh, no make up stayed on!” she giggled.
“Better?” Paul asked again, cock in hand, not pushing his fist up and down but actually, squeezing his cock on and off.
“Yes, 2nd time was even better!” she giggled and turned to him, brushing his cheek with the back of her hand.
“Better than I? Paul asked in precise way now.
“Baby, it s been years since last time you fucked me twice in a row, what do you think?” she giggled louder and leaned in. Her hand went down, joined his for a second, pushed it away, wrapped her fingers around it and squeezed hard. “I came so many times!” she said and squeezed on and off.
Paul held his breath and said nothing, his whole body tensing, his mind going blurry.
“So many times, so hard, so deep!” she went on and did her cock teasing routine faster. “Thank you for letting me have him!” she said.
Paul erupted in silence, no moaning, just panting as his cock released his cum in the air and on his shirt and Emily’s hand.
“Ooops did I ruin it? I mean will you be hard again till we reach home so you can fuck me?” she giggled and rearranged her dress a bit. She gave him a long, deep tongue kiss and said: “Let’s go home!”
Paul turned on the car and drove….like a robot….
[to be continued]
