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Part I: Dinner at Stephen and Lindsey’s
I can’t believe I’m doing this. This single thought accosted my mind as I knelt before him on the kitchen floor, waiting to be caught in the act. Holy shit! This is really happening. My hands started to shake uncontrollably and my skin began tingling as my fear swelled into a full-blown panic attack. I hadn’t heard any movements from upstairs in what seemed like several minutes, and I tried to prepare myself for the inevitable.
Stephen’s wife, Lindsey, had been getting dinner ready and was now upstairs doing something. Stephen had come up behind me while I was getting a Coke from the refrigerator. He put his arms around my waist and pulled me against him as he kissed my neck. I tilted my head and allowed him to softly bite my shoulder. The now familiar sensation of excitement and fear crept through my body. He turned me around to face him. I looked up at him and smiled. He put his arms around me and kissed me passionately as I leaned back against the kitchen counter.
He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Get on your knees.”
I looked into his eyes for a moment, wondering if he was serious. This almost always meant oral sex, and Lindsey would certainly be back down any minute. There was simply no time!
He looked irritated. “Get on your malatya escort knees,” he repeated.
“Yes sir,” I answered and slowly slid down to my knees with my back to the kitchen door. I put my hands behind my back and awaited his order.
I watched curiously as Stephen took a bowl from the cupboard and filled it with salad from the large serving bowl on the counter, then turned back to me.
“Hold out your hands.”
I brought my hands up to the bowl and held it there in front of my face. Stephen unzipped his pants and pulled out his semi-hard cock.
“Close your eyes,” he ordered.
I closed my eyes and waited. Soon I heard him stroking his cock. Slow at first, then faster. The fear was welling up in me. His light moans were making it difficult to hear the sounds coming from upstairs, which at this point was the only thing keeping my fear under control. I concentrated on those sounds: footsteps, slight creaks, a thud from something being set down. Please hurry and cum, I thought, I can’t take much more of this. My instinct to flee was being strongly challenged by my desire to submit. The last thing I wanted was to disappoint him by being a coward. But now the sounds from upstairs had stopped. I knelt there fighting the urge to malatya escort bayan open my eyes, listening for either his orgasm or Lindsey’s screams. I love this shit! I thought, Isn’t this the reason I’m in such a sleazy affair? Isn’t this the reason I stopped taking Paxil–to feel the panic?. There is no other feeling on Earth like this!
Finally I heard what I called his “point of no return” moan. I was very familiar with this particular moan as it usually meant I was two seconds away from getting a mouthful. After listening to him cum, I obediently sat awaiting his next order.
“Now get up and take your salad to the table.”
He zipped up his pants and started washing his hands in the sink. As I got up from the floor and made my way into the dinning room, I looked down to see he had shot an enormous load on “my” salad. I suppose I should have been a little grossed out, and under any other circumstances I probably would have been. But as the realization of what Stephen had planned came into view, I couldn’t help but get turned-on. Besides, I had gone down on him and swallowed several times before; this really wasn’t any different, was it?
It was several more minutes before Lindsey came downstairs and I started to feel a little escort malatya more relaxed. It hadn’t been quite as close as I had feared, but still pretty damn risky. After the table was set we all sat down to eat. I looked at my salad. It could pass for Italian dressing, I thought. But I knew Stephen’s cum really didn’t look anything like salad dressing at all, and I became more and more nervous.
I always felt so guilty afterward, especially when I had to be around Lindsey–the woman that was supposed to be my friend. I was always terrified that my guilt would give me away. Anyone that has ever experienced this awkward situation knows what I’m talking about. But sitting at the dinner table with her husband’s semen on my salad was too much. I sat and tried to eat–without much of an appetite–and with shaking hands.
“Are you alright?” Lindsey asked.
“Yeah sure, Why?
“You just seem strange.” She seemed genuinely concerned.
“No, I’m fine, really. I’m just a little tired, that’s all,” lifting a fork full of cum-covered lettuce to my mouth. “I’m sure I’ll feel better after I eat.” As the familiar bitter-salty taste covered my tongue I suddenly became VERY aroused. I looked up and made eye contact with Stephen. His confident, yet playful expression said volumes and for the first time I realized just how brilliant he was. I took another big bite, closing my eyes as the flavor of our naughty excursion filled my mouth. My nerves were calming and my appetite was coming back as well.
“Good?” Lindsey asked, seeing my obvious enjoyment.
I cut my eyes up at her and smiled.
“Mmmm Hmmm, It’s delicious.”
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