Rachel was naked, kneeling in front of me, her skin a creamy white in the pale light of the streetlamps coming through the sheer curtains. Her eyes were a little glassy from the booze and her lips were glazed. I was sitting on her couch, my own clothes in a pile on the floor near the front door. It was late in the evening and we had been drinking during a long night out with friends. My cock was hard and still wet with her saliva. It had been seven months since that first night.
She crawled into my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me close. Our bodies pressed together, I could feel her trembling. We kissed deeply. She straddled me, her pussy achingly close to the tip of my now throbbing cock. She rubbed it there for a moment, rubbing the shaft against her clit. I could feel her warmth and wetness and I was getting lost in desire for her.
I moved my mouth to her left nipple and nibbled gently. She moaned and grinded her pussy harder against me. Taking my face in her hands, she brought my mouth to hers once again. Her tongue moved into my mouth and worked with mine. Her back arched slightly as she moved on me. I was getting coated in her juices.
“Fuck the rules,” she moaned. “I fucking need this.”
And then I was inside her, engulfed in the exquisite tightness and heat of her pussy as she slid all the way down onto me. I had only a moment to consider how we got to this point, how we were breaking our final and most sacred rule, and how, at least at this moment, I didn’t care one bit.
But, I suppose I should tell you at least the beginning of how we reached that point.
“Good morning!,” the caption read. The photo was of Rachel snuggled in her bed, hair still messy. She was laying on her side, facing away from her still-sleeping husband. She had the blanket pulled down far enough that I could see her beautiful tits bathed in the dim light of the sun filtering in through the curtains in her room. She was smiling and biting her bottom lip just a little.
It was sexy as hell.
I had been awakened by my phone vibrating, indicating that I had a message. It had been just a few short hours since our first online encounter. Seeing this new photo and remembering what had transpired the night before, I was hard again.
My wife was still asleep. Judging by the amount of wine she had consumed, I suspected she would be sleeping off a hangover most of the day. I was naked under the blankets, so I rolled over onto my back and gently pulled the blankets down to my knees. I took a quick photo of my hard cock and sent it back to her with a caption that read, “It IS a good morning!”
A few moments later I got another photo. This one was another close-up of her pussy. Her fingers were spreading the lips apart and I could see a small amount of creamy white grool at the opening. The caption read, “It’s about to get a lot better.”
Photos and texts continued throughout the day. It wasn’t all naughty stuff, but some of it was. Others were just funny or quirky thoughts. It was a Sunday and I was doing some work for a freelance client most yalova escort of the day. Occasionally, Rachel would sign on and we’d chat for a bit.
Later that night, after Tim had gone to bed and I was sure my wife was in bed for the night, we had another cam session. This time I was in my office, which afforded a little more privacy. We turned on our mics and, though we still had to be quiet, it was the first time I heard her cum. The long moan that escaped her lips as the orgasm took over her body was one of the hottest things I’d ever heard. She acknowledged to me in the aftermath that my own moaning as I came turned her on, too.
As I noted in my last story, I had been friends with Rachel for a few years. She was a grad student, but prior to that had been employed in the same industry in which I work. As such, she and I were colleagues in a way. It wasn’t unusual for us to get lunch together or meet up for drinks with other professionals after work.
It also wasn’t unusual for her to be texting me. She was a serial texter. You might not hear from her for a couple of days, but when you did get a text, it was never just one. She would text you for hours. There usually wouldn’t be a huge point to the texts, she just wanted conversation. Sometimes she would text me and my wife separately, having totally different conversations.
So, over the course of this affair, the number of texts I received from Rachel didn’t seem unusual at all to my wife.
Over the next couple of days and nights, the texts and online chats continued. It certainly wasn’t all explicit. We talked about our marriages, our lives before marriage and what we hoped for the future.
Rachel expressed to me her belief that sex among friends — even after marriage — shouldn’t be taboo. In her view, why wouldn’t you want to have nice feelings with the people you love? Wouldn’t it be so great if we could just fuck occasionally and not have it be anything other than two people enjoying each others’ bodies? But we both agreed that our spouses would never see it that way. We agreed that this really should never become a real-life physical thing.
We talked about all of the people in our circle of friends that we secretly wanted to fuck. She had only been with one girl in her life, but most of the crushes she had were on our female friends, most specifically on our friend Autumn and another friend, Chelsea.
We shared fantasies sometimes of having threesomes with Autumn or Chelsea. We shared porn links. We told each other stories from our sexual pasts.
Then, a little over two weeks since our first online encounter, Rachel asked if I wanted to get lunch the next day. I was a little hesitant. This would be the first time we’d have seen each other in person since this whole thing began, whatever this whole thing was. Would it be weird?
“Don’t worry,” she texted. “It’ll be totally straight. No naughty business.”
I knew that we were going to have to see each other eventually. Maybe it was better to do it just the two of us in case there was some kind of awkwardness.
“Sure!,” yalova escort bayan I wrote back. “That sounds nice.”
She picked me up from work at noon the next day and we went to a restaurant close by. She was wearing a cute blue dress and knee-high boots. She was wearing light makeup and her hair was done in an adorable 50s pinup style. I was dressed for my casual office: Jeans and a henley shirt. We were both a little shy and awkward to start, avoiding direct eye contact, but also not knowing where else to look. Finally, I decided to break the ice.
“Ok, let’s just get this out of the way,” I said, smiling. “We’ve seen each other naked and had some fun. If it’s going to be really weird in person, we’d better cut it out or people are going to figure us out really quickly.”
She laughed, relief showing on her face.
“You’re right,” she said. “And, I don’t want to stop.”
“Good, me either.”
For the first time, she looked me in the eye, playfully, but with a seriousness.
“But, I think we need to set some rules that we absolutely will not break,” she said.
“Yeah, it’s probably a good idea.”
And so we began talking about what was and wasn’t allowed. Because of our spouses, we agreed that physical contact was out. We also agreed that this was not an “emotional” thing. We weren’t going to get attached to each other and get all googly thinking about the other. This was purely sexual. We both needed an outlet and we were convenient for each other. Most importantly, this was “no strings attached.” If one of us wanted to end it, it was over. No crying, no bullshit.
“Good,” she smiled. “I think this will be good. Now, let’s get out of here. I want to show you something.”
We paid our bills and went to her car. She drove us to a park near my office. There were a few other cars there, mostly people enjoying their lunch. We parked in a secluded spot and she turned off the engine.
“Ok,” she said. “We can’t touch … but that doesn’t mean we can’t be in the same place, right?”
“Umm … I supposed that fits within the rules,” I replied. I was suddenly very aware of how vulnerable we were. We were about 50 feet from the closest car, but it this was far from private.
She slipped out of her seatbelt and crawled into the backseat of her large SUV. I had to get out and re-enter through the rear door. The rear windows were tinted, but anyone who really wanted to see us wouldn’t have to look too hard.
As I got in the car, she was turned toward me, her back against the drivers-side rear door. Her legs were spread and her dress was hiked up over her hips. She wasn’t wearing panties. She reached down and spread her pussy lips so I could see how wet she was.
“I want to watch you,” she said. “I want you to cum for me.”
I tried to crawl across the seat to her, but she caught me in the chest with a booted foot, pushing me back to the other side.
“Nuh-uh,” she giggled. “No touching, remember? You stay over there and I’ll stay over here.”
I laughed and threw up my hands in a mock surrender.
“Ok ok! I’ll stay escort yalova right over here. I was just trying to give you a better view!”
I settled into the seat, my back against the door, facing her. My right foot was on the floor and the bulge of my hard cock was very apparent under my jeans.
“Take your cock out,” she purred. “I want to see it.”
I obliged, unbuttoning my pants and sliding them down over my hips. My cock stood rigid and she giggled.
“God, your cock is so beautiful … I love it so much.”
I wrapped my right hand around the base and started to stroke it up and down. She moaned as her own hand moved back to her pussy. She rubbed her clit in a slow, deliberate circular motion as I stroked. She pulled her tits out and pinched a nipple with her other hand, moaning again.
“Faster,” she said. “We don’t have much time. I just want to see you cum.”
I stroked faster, pre-cum leaking from the tip of my cock. Her hand moved faster, too. Her hips moved slowly in rhythm.
“Mmm just like that,” she said. “Cum for me.”
The air in the car was getting muggy and the windows started to fog. In the moist air, I could catch just the faintest hint of the scent of her pussy. She was dripping and there was a small pool of grool on the leather seat between her legs. I wanted to bury my face between her legs, but I knew that I could not. I looked at her face and our eyes locked.
“Cum for me,” whispered.
I came hard, just managing to pull my shit up before hot ropes of cum erupted, covering my stomach. My orgasm brought hers and she moaned loudly, plunging two fingers into her pussy. She rocked there, her body riddled with wave after wave of pleasure.
We both slumped into the seats, eyes closed. I opened mine after a few moments. She was staring at my cock and the cum that covered my stomach.
She smiled first, then started giggling. I laughed with her. I had not been expecting this.
“So, is THIS what you mean by no naughty stuff?.” I asked with a grin.
“I just got carried away,” she laughed. “I wanted to see if we could work within the rules. It was difficult, but I think we can do it. Do you?”
“I’ll admit, there was a time when I thought about just throwing all caution to the wind and diving into that beautiful pussy,” I said, smiling again. “But, yes, I think we can work within this framework.”
“Good,” she said. “I definitely want to do this again.”
She handed me some paper towel from a roll on the floor. I wiped myself down as best I could. She used a couple of sheets to clean up her own mess, both on her legs and on the seat. I pulled my pants back on and she put her breasts back into her dress. We both moved back to the front seat, barely noticing the people in the park staring at us.
She drove me back to work and dropped me in the parking lot. I felt like I should kiss her goodbye, but I knew that was against the rules.
She giggled at my awkwardness. “Just get back to work,” she said with mock authority. “You’ve been gone WAY longer than an hour!”
And with that, I got out and watched her drive away.
A few minutes later, as I sat at my desk trying to wrap my head around what was happening, I got a text: “My car smells like sex. I like it. I wonder if having you cum on me breaks our rules?”