1. Dirty Little Secrets 1: Performing For Two


    Date: 8/25/2015, Categories: Wife Lovers, Author: PervyStoryteller, Rating: 0, Source: LushStories

    And then it really does feel unbearable. I’m screaming as I wrench the thing out of myself. My pussy contracts. Pulses of pussy juice are suddenly staining the upholstery and the carpet. And yet I know I’m not done, that there’s something bigger waiting. I stuff the dildo back inside, having no idea how I manage it. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I cry, seeing Algernon’s hand as a blur, as he works his hard meat watching me stuff my juicy, lubed up cunt with that monster dildo. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I tighten again, and this time I know it’s the big one. “Fuck yeah! Fuck yeah!” I scream. “Fucking come for me! Come for me! I want you to fucking come for me!” Then there’s just one loud inarticulate scream as I pull the dildo from my dilated cunt, only for spurt after spurt of pussy juice to shoot from me. The earth really does seem to move as orgasmic wave after orgasmic wave rolls over me, I’m aware that Algernon has ripped the condom off his cock. There’ll be no little latex parcel for me, just an excess of semen as spurt after spurt shoots out of his hard cock onto the floor. He stares at me intently for about fifteen seconds before adjusting his sweatpants, and then he’s gone. I just about remember to kill the recording. I don’t even have the strength to blow a farewell kiss first, remaining where I am, utterly exhausted, for a good fifteen minutes. Then I stumble into the bathroom to clean myself up before sitting down to play the video. Only now do I become aware of how close I came ...
    to squirting all over the computer. There are puddles of fluids on the table, and stains on the carpet, but only some slight splashes on the keyboard and the screen. Somehow I feel utterly divorced from the person I see on the screen. I know it’s me, but I can’t actually believe I behaved like that. Let’s just say I did a much better job of behaving like the woman I fear my husband straying with than I ever thought I was capable of. More importantly, there’s nothing to give me away, or rather to give my dirty little secret away. If Algernon grunted when he came, I was screaming loud enough to drown him out, and at the end, when I only had eyes for my secret admirer, I was obviously so out of it that it just looks as if I’m incapable of concentrating on the camera. I e-mail John, just typing a short note this time, telling him that he’ll understand why I’m in no fit state to write more when he watches the clip. After that, I go in search of carpet cleaner. My own mess doesn’t matter that much. John will be able to see me causing that. But lashings of male ejaculate just inside the French windows? No, that has to be dealt with. You will no doubt think me very wicked, but since I’ve confessed this much, I might as well tell you the worst. As I work hard to eradicate every trace of Algernon, I wonder to myself if I will just be satisfied with knowing he’s watching me perform for much longer. He may not be the man I’d imagined. He may not even be someone I’d normally ever think of ...
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