1. Sleep of the Guilty


    Date: 2/15/2015, Categories: Wife Lovers, Author: marlowe, Rating: 2, Source: LushStories

    further and pushing back to meet the force, embracing the flesh, reaching a plateau of steady momentum, glancing back over her shoulder and searching his face, listening to the sloppy wet noises echoing off the stairwell walls as he entered and retreated from her body. Whispered moans, whimpering cries and muted curses of encouragement growing louder and louder, narrowing his eyes and distorting his face, as if this physical gesture would help to calm the situation, a sudden movement on the bed and a throaty gurgling noise stopping him in his tracks like a burglar caught in the act. Eyes wide open in panic, his heart beat increasing by the second, his mouth dry, his stomach churning, waiting nervously, watching his every move, swallowing a lump in his throat and chewing the inside of his mouth, waiting, listening and watching, as if he was expecting that at any moment Jimmy would wake up and jump from the bed in a violent rage. Sandra’s demanding voice broke him from his mental turmoil. “Fuck me harder,” she whispered. “Oh my God... Fuck me... More... More,” she begged, wriggling and swaying her hip, rocking back and forward and pushing back, easing him in in captured momentum, making sure she was getting it all inside. The tired timber banister squeaked in an overture of painful noises, the old floorboards moaning and groaning under the weight of their feet. But Sandra had given up worrying about husband, and she couldn’t give a fuck about the creaking floorboards. The ...
    length, the girth, the deep penetration, entering and retreating from a body swimming in a sea of euphoric bliss, moans joining a chorus of groans, curses turning into words of endearment, whispers growing into agonising cries, a wanting woman reaching the heights of euphoric bliss, hovering on a summit somewhere in heaven, the floodgates of passion exploding, taking her over the orgasmic cliff. “I’m coming. she moaned, her head thrashing from side to side, her face twisting in a paroxysm of euphoria, a teeth clenching release, the searing heat of passion spilling down her thighs, a muffled orgasm celebrated in silence. Firing on all cylinders his balls erupted, spurt after spurt of sticky white ballast spewing from the open eye, filling her innermost depths with his endless seed of life. With both hands gripping the handrail as if her life depended on her never letting go, a tired and exhausted body flooding in an ocean of ecstasy, breathless pants joining wheezes and gasps, a burning vulva bleeding sticky fluids down her thighs, fingers slowly losing their grip, the handrail protesting against the strain, her limp body sliding helplessly to the floor in a crumpled heap. It was getting late but the party was still going on when they slipped back into Mary Boyd’s house, relatively unnoticed. Some of the guests were in the kitchen drinking and eating the remains of the buffet. Those that had drunk too much had fallen asleep on the sofa. Others were showing off their dancing skills ...
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