Cougar

She undressed to her underwear in the bathroom, wanting to make her entrance, then go directly to bed, hoping to arouse her husband with a surprise attack. She cleaned her teeth and wondered whether to go straight for his cock or rub up to him a little first. Depending on how drunk he was, he might not notice the rubbing, so best just to go for his cock. She spat out the toothpaste and watched the white liquid run down the plughole. It reminded her of the finale of how it used to be - energetic shag, followed by her taking him in her mouth when he was close to coming, then taking his load, then spitting it away. Such a long time ago! She tiptoed into the bedroom, taking care to avoid any discarded clothes, but when she slid onto the bed she saw he was still in them. He wasn't even under the sheets, simply lying where he'd fallen. She made an angry face in the darkness, nearly gnashing her teeth, and raising her hand to slap the creature with his back to her. For a moment she thought about crying, but suddenly Sylvie flashed into her mind. Sylvie, in her apartment, sitting on her couch and thinking about the guys below her. Or they could be on top of her? Yes, on top of her and thrusting away inside her until the couch springs were ready to break! Judith noticed her hand was still raised, but, keeping the image of Sylvie's flat in mind, she lowered it, all the way down until it touched her knickers. Moisture seeped through the material and onto her fingers and a pang of pleasure vibrated the length of her body. The vibrations of pleasure grew stronger as she moved her fingers up and down, all the way from clitoris to perineum, then back again. Was this an exercise in seeing if Brian would notice, or simple because she was so damn excited? She didn't care, and soon her fingers were past her panties and working her cunt directly. With her eyes closed, she was still Sylvie, in her apartment, and lying on her couch getting fucked by one of the guys, getting fucked and fucked harder, as her fingers probed and probed deeper into her moist cunt. Soon her fingers skidded along her inner lips like they were ski slopes as the pressure of release built and built deep inside her. A minute later and she was gasping and wanting to shriek as the strength of her orgasm overcame her and she dug her head back into the pillow and pinched her clit for a final twinge of pleasure. Brian spluttered in his slumbers, but at least he'd stopped snoring.

"Oh, baby!" She whispered softly. "I want to fuck you so hard it hurts!"

He looked uncertain. "Really?"

"Oh yes!" She didn't want to overdo it, but neither did she want it underdone -- it was all a bit of a mess in her mind, but she was used to tidying-up mess. And this was what Jo Zander from Woman's Moan called "taking control".

She snogged him a minute more, sensing his penis taking its time to rise up against the crack in her arse, but rising it was. Then she threw back her head and groaned a deep guttural groan she felt she had to groan. John remained silent, but his cock was still hard.

She growled, throwing her head back down towards his, almost ending in a collision. "You're mine to do what I please with tonight!"

"Are you sure?" he asked in sober tones.

"Yes!" She grabbed his wrists and thrust them backwards towards the bed posts. Except that he was still on his side of the bed, and his left wrist crashed against the glass of water he always had on his bedside cabinet.

"Whoops!" he said, as if it was supposed to be comical. "I'll just go and clean that up."

"You stay where you are!" she demanded, wondering if she'd been possessed by some evil entity, and at the same time putting the fear of God into him. "In fact, you move over into the middle of the bed!" He looked confused. "Now!"

Forgetting she was on top of him, he shuffled his way westwards, the journey made all the more harder by the wife sitting astride him. She took a deep breath as she felt his erection fading under the physical exertion. Once he reached the bed's centre, he still wasn't sure what she was doing.

"Darling, the carpet will be all wet."

"Shut-up, slave!" She cried.

"Carol, are you…"

She clapped her hand across his mouth again and wished she'd written out some guidelines to pin to the wall. It might have been better to approach him with this in words, but Woman's Moan insisted that talking about it beforehand ruined the moment. And Jo Zander must know a thing or two because she claimed to have done "everything".

John still didn't look sure what was happening as Carol shoved his hands back against the bedposts, banging them roughly against the wood. She still wasn't sure what she was doing -- apparently she was supposed to hurt him, but she couldn't understand the point of doing that to the man she loved. Oh well, that was what Miss Zander said!

"Darling, can I just..."

"Ssssh!"

"It's just that I'm not too comfortable, and..."

"I said ssssh!"

He sssshed, and she got on with retrieving the ribbons from the under the pillow. As soon as he saw them she knew a hundred questions were ready to shoot from his lips. Maybe she should have blindfolded him? Or even used a gag? Those were further down the list of Erotic Bedtime Pleasures and right now she was a beginner. Maybe next week, if the kids stayed with the in-laws and his meeting down in Basingstoke was cancelled.

She was still turned-on -- just about. His willy had waned, but that didn't matter. In fact, it made it better for when she went down on him…just as soon as she could untangle these damn ribbons from each other!



John had learnt that silence was the best policy, but all the same he couldn't understand why she'd brought out part of the Halloween costume she'd left on the sewing machine earlier. And she was banging his wrists against that wood as if he'd done something wrong! But what? All he wanted was to please her!

"I hate this cellar," Simon moaned as he entered, screwing his face up at the filthy brickwork and slimy green floor, "I once smashed a load of biscuits down here with a sledgehammer."

"Why?" Sylvie asked.

"Err, doesn't matter."

She'd been waiting ten minutes for him to arrive, ever since she sent the text saying, Cellar in 5? XXXXX--five kisses, to make up for the hundreds he'd missed that week. Not sleeping with her was tearing him apart. His physicalities went mostly ungratified, the occasional quickie in her hall sufficing whenever Darren popped out for some ciggies. But Darren rarely went out for longer than five minutes, and he was always up in the flat, which Simon understood was tough on Sylvie, even though he was her cherished son. He knew she wanted long drawn out mind blowing sex sessions just as much as him, and so he played it as cool as he could.

"Ooooh!" He groaned as he squeezed her tightly. "You feel better than…something that can't be beaten!"

"So do you! I could just stay in your arms forever!"

"And both be late for work? I suppose we would get away with a cheeky fondle in the dole queue!"

"At least you're still cheery! I'd have thought lack of sex would be driving you mad!"

"It is, but it's the same for you. Worse really, because at least I can get from start to finish in five minutes, whereas you obviously need a bit longer."

"Not necessarily--remember two days ago when you did me from behind over my bathroom sink? I came right after you inserted a teasing finger into my ass!"

He smiled at the happy memory. "Ah yes, but you had spent most of the afternoon watching that daytime panel show, and it just happened to feature a part called 'Variety With Your Vegetables'."

She nodded, also with fond memories. "I can't believe that was shown before the watershed!"

"Have you told him yet?"

"No."

"Any plans for when you will?"

"I don't know how long he's staying. Might only be for a short while."

"Sure, but he'll be back soon enough, and then we'll have to go through this whole rigmarole again. I plan to still be with you during the next university holidays."

He felt her grip him even tighter. "I know, you're right. But how about we broach it delicately?"