Don’t Tell My Husband Story

I’d had a difficult night at work. State inspectors
decided last night was the perfect time to surprise the
kitchen. I was training a new cook, Kristen, and our
clean up person failed to show, so Kristen and I ended
up stayed late to wash dishes and mop the floor. The
kitchen didn’t get written up for anything, thank god!

I left work at 8.00 pm and drove home to a dark house. I
swore I left the porch and front room lights on but the
house was dark. The friggin’ bulbs burnt out and I
bitched all the way to the door. The porch was no prob.
I could reach it easily, but the other one was connected
to an eight foot ceiling and the globe hooked to the
fixture with three screws. I sighed as I wished for
Mikel back from Canada. With his monkey arms, changing
bulbs was a piece of cake.

I reached into my right coat pocket for the key and
banged the screen door shut behind me. My fingers groped
around for the hole and I shoved the key in. The door
opened and I stepped inside. I sniffed for gas as the
furnace tends to blow out. Another reason to get Mikel
back.

I hated going down to our spooky basement and light the
damned thing. I didn’t smell any gas but I went to the
living room vent to check. Hot air wafted to my waiting
palm and I let out a breath. I threw my coat on the
couch and pulled the chain on the light here. It clicked
but room stayed dark.

This was getting too weird.

I made my way by touch to the front door and felt around
for the aluminum baseball bat propped against the wall.
I held it tightly and slowly walked to the other rooms.
Each light didn’t light and I started checking the lock
on the back door. The bolt was still across the door and
I listened for sounds of someone upstairs. I heard
nothing.

I tiptoed my way to the bottom of the stairs and waited.
I carefully stepped on the second stair and, quietly as
I could, locked the baby-gate behind me. If there was a
burglar up there, he’d break his legs on the nearly
invisible obstacle.

My feet touched only the very edges of each step as I
went up. When I reached the second floor landing, I
pushed my glasses up and got ready to Jackie Chan this
mother. First, I peeked into the store room. Nobody
there but busts of Robert Kennedy. I went across the
hall to the spare bedroom. Here came a dilemma. There
was enough room between the bed and the wall for a body
to hide but the walk-in closet was in line with it. I
figured if they were lying on the floor, I’d hear them
getting up.

I nudged aside the beaded curtain. Nothing. The space by
the wall was empty as well. Two down, three to go.

My daughter’s room came next. I’d arranged her bedroom
so I could see everything from the doorway. The bathroom
door was wide open and empty. Whoever it was had to be
in my room. If they were hiding in the basement, they
could stay there with the plethera of spiders.

The blankets were in a wad in the middle of the bed like
there was somebody under them. It looked like this
intruder wanted to play Goldilocks. Well, mama bear was
home and mama bear was pissed off!

I brought the bat up, ready to cold-cock the son of a
bitch. My feet missed every creak in the wooden
floorboards as I snuck up on the blankets. I swung back,
then forward and connected with the lump on the bed. A
moan came to my ears and I grinned maliciously.

I whacked him a few more times just to satisfy my pain
inflicting lust. My hands jerked the covers away to find
who it was. I rolled the limp body over and my jaw
dropped with shock. It was Mikel and I’d killed him.

‘Oh shit! I’m going to prison!’ I thought. I touched his
neck and found a strong pulse. He was alive! I threw the
bat away and picked up the phone. My shaking fingers
dialed 911. I told the operator that I needed an
ambulance because I beat the crap out of my husband. I
hung up and switched on the light. This one worked and I
got a good look at my handiwork.

Blood oozed from a gash on his forehead. I sat on the
edge of the mattress and tugged gently on his beard.
“Mikel? Can you hear me?”

A groan came out of his mouth and he managed to open his
eyes. “What the fuck happened?”

“I thought you were a burglar,” I squeaked and shrugged
my shoulders. “How was I to know you were here?”

He tried to sit up but fell back at the pain in his
ribs. “Didn’t you notice my hat and jacket hanging up? I
left my bags in front of the door.”

“No, I didn’t. God, I am so sorry.” I started crying and
laid my head on his arm. “You just get back and now I’m
going to jail and I missed you and I love you…” I
blubbered on and on and he rubbed my hair in sympathy.

“You won’t go to jail. We’ll tell them what happened.
It’ll be okay, I promise.”

Sirens wailed and the red lights flashed through the
window telling us the ambulance was here. I ran down
stairs and tripped over the baby-gate at the bottom. My
knee twisted and came out of joint. I hobbled to the
door and let the EMTs in. I told them he was upstairs
and clutched my leg.

They brought Mikel down strapped to a backboard and
loaded him on the gurney outside the porch. I hopped
with him to the back of the van and got in for the ride
to the emergency room.

Doctor Jackson was on call and he gave Mikel the once
over. Mikel gave him the whole story of getting mistaken
for a burglar and beaten with a bat by his wife. The
doctor ordered x-rays for Mikel’s ribs and a cat scan to
rule out brain trauma.

I sat in a hard plastic chair and stewed for two hours.
My husband returned and the doctor stitched up his head
and bandaged his ribs. Nothing was broken but he had to
keep his ribs taped for almost a month. Mikel was
released and I called up my bud Marie for a ride home.

* * *

The next day the police showed up. My screams sounded
like I was being murdered and they busted through the
door with guns drawn. “FREEZE!” they shouted and we
froze. Our hands flew in the air as we stared down the
barrels of two police specials.

The lead cop looked from my face, down to my naked,
jiggling breasts and back again. He lowered his pistol
and said to his partner, “C’mon Mike. There’s nothing
here that looks like domestic violence.” He tipped his
brim at me. “Sorry about the door, ma’am. We’ll lock up
on our way out.” The two left and I heard the click of
the lock.

Mikel’s face was flushed with embarrassment. My own
blush was from the unannounced police catching me in a
compromising position. My husband cupped my breasts and
rolled the nipples. “Now, where were we?” He twitched
his cock in my pussy. “Oh yeah, you were giving me the
fuck of a lifetime.”

My vagina clenched and I went back to riding his turgid
prick.

My ass slapped against his thighs as I bounced up and
down his shaft. His hands worked their magic by twisting
and pinching my hard nipples. I threw my head back and
speeded up. He drew the right peak inside his mouth and
nibbled at the sensitive spot. His left hand slipped
between our bodies and began diddling my clit.

This sent me flying over the edge. I started singing the
Ode to Sex aria and leaned back.

His teeth held my hard nub and I watched how the skin
stretched. I stopped moving and squeezed his cock with
my orgasm. I felt it jerk and knew his thick cream was
painting the walls of my cunt. My body spasmed and
seized at the intensity of it all.

I limply leaned on him and panted. His palms kneaded my
ass cheeks and he lightly spanked me. The slaps got
harder and I squealed in protest. He kept it up and told
me, “You ain’t done yet. You’re gonna keep riding me
until you faint. Then I’m gonna start plowing you.” My
muscles tightened around his semi-hard prick. His voice
softened. “I bet you really want those two cops to show
up again and watch you. I saw the look in their eyes and
they wanted to watch you fuck me. They saw what a little
slut you are. I bet you’d suck and fuck their cocks,
wouldn’t you?” He spanked me and I nodded. “You’d gobble
down one cock and beg the other to pound your tight
cunt. And I’d sit here and watch you get taken every
way.”

I loved it when he talked out sex scenarios while we
fucked. He’d spur me on with a little fantasy about me
getting it on with other men. We fucked in silence for a
while until he found his train of thought.

“I was just dreaming of you riding one cop, letting his
prick stretch your snug pussy. The other would come up
behind you and slip his dick up your ass. They’d feel
each other fucking your holes through that membrane.
Soon, you’ll get them thrusting in you at the same time
and you’ll cum.

“Then I’ll be there to play with your swollen clit and
you won’t be able to handle the emotional explosion.
That hot-quim and shit-shute of yours will get filled
with their sticky jism. And you’ll shove a finger or two
up your cunt and lap the juices, wanting more.”

“YES! YES!” I screamed as I came. Once more, he shot his
load deep up my slit and called out. I slipped off his
thighs and crumpled in a heap at his feet.

* * *

Greg wiped his cum off the monitor for the fifth time.
He draped the sticky towel on his cock and calmed down.
She was the best sex writer he’d read on the Net in a
long time. Assuming she *was* a she. You can never be
sure of anything over computer lines. He closed word
processor and shut off the computer. He picked up his
jeans and jockeys to throw in the laundry when the phone
rang. He answered, “Hello?”

An excited female voice replied, “Greg, guess what? Matt
got his visa! He’s flying out of Toronto on the first
plane to Chicago!” She let out a whoop.

“That’s great,” Greg said. He knew the couple had worked
diligently with the INS to get Matt’s paperwork
approved.

“Can you drive me to the airport? Matt’s plane gets in
at two in the morning tomorrow… err, today since it’s
already tomorrow.”

He glanced at the clock on the CD-player. It showed
12:30 am. “Let me get this straight. Matt gets in Omaha
at 2:00 am late Friday night, right?”

“Yeah, and I can’t wait!” He pictured her dancing the
jig. She didn’t say anything for a minute or two. “Greg?
Can I ask you something?”

“Sure Nichole. Fire away.”

“What do you think of the Dancer stories?”

He was taken aback. He looked guiltily at his flaccid
prick wondering if she knew what he’d been doing.
“They’re fantastic.”

Nicole’s voice grew throaty. “Do they, you know, get you
off?”

Greg swallowed hard, “Uh, yes. Yes they do get me off.”

“Do you feel like Dancer really draws you in? I mean,
like when she describes how she fucks these guys, do you
feel like you’re the guy?”

He thought and said, “Yeah. Even if the story’s third
person, I can put myself there watching the sex.”

“I know what you mean. I just finished ‘Don’t Tell My
Husband’. The beginning was kinda scary but the ending
really got me hot and bothered.” His cock started
getting hard again. He’d worked with Nicole for four
years and never heard her sound so damned sexy. “Greg,
can I come over? I need you,” she purred and he was
lost.

“Sure, no problem.”

They said goodbye and hung up. She only lived a couple
of blocks away so he hurriedly stuffed his dirty clothes
in a hamper and got into a pair of faded sweats. He just
pulled a ratty t-shirt over his head when she knocked.
He let in and helped her off with her coat.

“I’ve got to tell you a secret,” she said. “I’m Dancer.”

“What!?”

“I’m Dancer. I wrote all those sex stories and put them
on the Net.” Greg was flabbergasted. Sweet, little,
married Nicole was a porn writer.

He put his hands on his hips. “Are you SHITTING me?”

“I’m dead serious! I know you don’t believe me but it’s
true!” She worried a strand of hair and bit her lower
lip. “I came over here because I want to have sex with
you. There! I said it and it’s out in the open.”

Greg’s cock twitched at her confession and grew harder.
His sweats tented and he saw her eyes zero in on the
spot. Her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips.
“Stopping looking at me like that, Nicole. You’re
married. You love Matt to death.”

She growled, “I haven’t had any in eleven and a half
months! I can’t wait for Matt to get home!” Her hands
balled his shirt up revealing his belly. “I need a dick,
Greg, and I want yours.” She kissed him hard and wrapped
a leg over his hip. The heat from her covered pussy
forged his dick to steel. It was painful and the only
relief was to cum. Jacking off wouldn’t do, it demanded
to cum inside her.

“We’re going to regret this later,” he stated before
returning her kiss. Her lips parted and they played
tongue tag. She sucked his, mimicking a blow job and he
ground his pelvis against hers. He picked her up in his
arms and took her to his bed. They undressed themselves.
Nicole ran her warm hands all over his body before
kneeling between his legs. He watched intently as her
mouth covered his cock and she sucked. She licked and
teased her tongue the length and width, then caught it
in her cleavage.

Her tits were gloriously soft and smooth as they slid up
and down his member. It grew harder, if that was
possible, as her tongue flickered snake-like between her
lips. That mouth muscle lapped from the base of his
cock, up his hair-covered chest, along his throat and
tickled the cleft of his chin. His chin received the
same treatment as his cock. Nicole crawled animal-like
onto the bed and she stopped on all fours with her
thighs spread. “Fuck me, Greg, fuck my wet little pussy
with that long, thick dick of yours.”

Greg quickly moved in behind her ass and used his
fingers to find her hole. It was dripping with her
juices and he found her distended clit. “Put your cock
in me!” she demanded. He stroked her slit and coated his
hard on with her cream. Her pouty ass rose higher in the
air to give him more access and he poked the head
between her swollen labia.

He gripped her bare ass and asked, “Hard and fast?”

“Yeah, just like my stories,” she groaned. The first
thrust was incredible. Her cunt was so tight he nearly
shot his load then and there. He drew most of the way
out and pushed back in. A rhythm developed and each
thrust got deeper inside until he was banging at her
cervix. Sweat dripped off his body and he could feel the
familiar build up in his balls. On the last thrust, he
stopped and let the feeling pass. Nicole pleaded and
begged for him to continue but he refused.

Greg grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her head back.
“Just like the story, this is where you get it up the
ass.” He aimed his slick rod at her asshole and pushed.
He felt it pop passed her sphincter and she howled. He
thought maybe he’d gone too far but she eased his guilt
by wiggling her plump cheeks up and down to take more of
him in. Her ass was as tight as the proverbial nun’s
box.

The snug channel got smaller with every stroke. He
fucked her harder and his balls tightened. Cum pumped
out of his cock and spewed up her ass. This climax took
a while to finish before he was soft enough to pull out.
He flopped next to her and threw an arm over his face.
“I can’t believe that happened,” he croaked. “And I
gotta face Matt this time tomorrow.”

Nicole rolled on her side and snuggled up to Greg’s
body. “Don’t worry. Matt doesn’t care. He says he can’t
keep up with me in the sack.”

“Can anyone?” he asked with his voice cracking.

She brushed his face with a couple of fingers. “Thank
you. I really needed a good, hard fuck.” She turned his
lips to meet hers in a soft kiss. She twirled his light
chest hair around her delicate fingers and murmured,
“About my stories I write as Dancer…”

Greg reached down and drew the blankets over their
bodies. “What about them?”

“Don’t tell my husband.”