The Point of No Return…. Pt Three

I hope a fortnight wasn’t too long… now where were we….?

FtF

_____________________

I have to give Angela her due. The meal she put before us was very fine. I shared a chilled bottle of Sauvignon Blanc with her which complimented the Lemon chicken while Mike stuck with his beer. Mike’s hands never wandered to far from her knee, whether it was some sort of masculine territory marking or just his way I didn’t know but as the level of wine in the bottle lowered and the next already chilled bottle came out her eyes definitely seemed to linger longer on mine than those of her husband. I was just filling Angela’s glass from the second bottle when Mike rose and said he was heading for the ‘little boys room’. Her eyes rose to the sky at the remark.

Mike disappeared inside the house and the two of us looked at each other in quiet contemplation. I was sure that both of our thoughts were on what had passed ninety minutes earlier. I slowly let my eyes drop down over her chest and down to her crotch and then back up to those cool blue eyes. My mind flickered to Elena; I wondered if I had gone home would we be already in bed, perhaps I would already be lying between her legs teasing her slit with one of her favourite toys. Angela uncrossed her lags and sat with her knees six inches apart, her dress slack between her tanned thighs. Those thighs and I imagined much, much more, that had been bronzed on the beaches of Tunisia. Her eyes dropped to my own crotch.

My cock had remained in a state of semi-hardness since Mike had arrived home, the glans slightly uncomfortable with the amount of pre-cum that lubricated it. All at once as her eyes focused downwards a rapid surge of blood swelled it once again. I reached down and pulled up my shirt exposing my jeans to her gaze. Her knees opened a fraction and her stare remained fixed as I undid the button above my zip. Both of us were breathing heavily as her legs spread slightly once again, her dress lifting exposing a stretch of her inner thighs. I took hold of my zip and slowly pulled it downwards as her tongue moistened her lips. My heart pounded in my chest as I imagined hers was as well.

Angela placed her painted fingernails at the hem of her dress and raised it a fraction as she scratched the deep brown flesh of her thighs leaving faint tracks in their wake. My back was to the door from which Mike would return as I folded back the edges of my jeans to expose my boxers beneath. My fingers slowly traced alongside my erection, the damp spot caused by my secretions obvious in the dark blue cotton. My eyes never wavered from between Angela’s thighs as the material edged higher and I lightly squeezed my hard-on, a quiet growl escaping my lips. I stared hard between her legs, wondering, longing to know if she had bothered to put on a fresh, un-ripped pair of knickers. Simultaneously I hoped that she hadn’t and my view would be unrestricted and that she had and I could tear them from her wet cunt once again.

I hooked a finger underneath the waistband of my boxers and exposed the angry head of my cock just as a crash sounded from the kitchen behind me and Mike called out.

“BUGGER! Don’t worry…every thing’s okay…”

Angela’s gaze didn’t waver and she briefly lifted her dress clear off her thighs to expose her bare pussy beneath. “Damn…” I whispered as I swiped my finger across my glans before re-buttoning my jeans and dropping my shirt back across the bulge. I looked at my damp fingertip and then across at Angela. A glance behind me showed that Mike was still inside and I stood up picking up the bottle of wine with my left hand and obscuring Angela from the door. I offered her the fingertip.

“Damn indeed” she whispered back as her tongue flicked out to taste my salty residue.

It took Mike four more bottles of beer before he clumsily knocked two empty ones off the table. The evening sky was darkening rapidly as I helped Angela clear the empties and debris from the table and floor before we proceeded inside through the kitchen into the large lounge. There was three large couches arranged around the large fireplace and Mike had deposited himself in the middle one and was busy lining up three heavy cut-glass tumblers and a bottle of whiskey. Angela twisted on her heel, a smile playing across her lips as her eyes met mine and disappeared back into the kitchen.

I sat down at the nearest couch and placed the two glasses and over half full bottle of wine Angela and me had been sharing on the rough cut thick wooden coffee table. “Something a little stronger, Pete?” slurred Mike.

“A small measure please and a little-“

“Water?” interrupted Angela as she walked back into the room carrying a small porcelain jug. Mike’s idea of a small measure was to fill up the glass past halfway. I knew I wouldn’t drink that much and hated to dilute it with water and not drink it. Angela didn’t even bother telling him how much and added enough water to almost fill the tumbler. She was sat on the far side of her husband, his territorial hand no longer on her knee and as she rested back into the voluminous cushions her dress rode up her thigh. She had removed the sandals she had been wearing earlier and crossed her bare ankles, a smile playing across her lips as my gaze slid to her legs. She flexed her right knee outwards for a moment just to tease me more.

“Cheers one n’ all” declared Mike as he lifted his own glass to his mouth and drank a third down. I hadn’t noted whether his was neat or if he had added water. Both Angela and I sipped at our own. I didn’t really know my whiskeys but I assumed that Mike would never buy a cheap brand over a really expensive one but even my un-tutored senses though that it was… weak. I noted my nostrils didn’t even twitch let lone flare as they normally did. As I lowered my glass I noted Angela looking at the slim silver watch that adorned her wrist and that mischievous grin that I saw as she fetched the jug of water return. I also noted that she spread her knees further apart so I could easily see more than half way up the inside of her right thigh.

Mike made rudimentary conversation, quickly becoming almost incomprehensible as his speech became even more indistinct with each passing minute. Both Angela and I added the occasional ‘hmmm’ and ‘yes’ at those points at which we felt an encouragement was necessary. Our conversation was all the more subtle and non-verbal, Angela having the advantage as dictated by Mike’s line of sight. My cock was hard once again within my jeans and I made a point of quickly stroking it each time Mike made wild hand movements to emphasise whatever point he was making. Angela by now had her knees spread wide and had, inch by inch, raised her dress so that even with the dimmed lights of the lounge her trimmed bush was just about visible to me if not (unfortunately) in detail.

I had pulled Angela’s ripped panties from my pocket and had ‘wiped’ my nose in plain view of Mike gaining a wide eyed and startled look from his wife in response. Mike, in his state of inebriation, hadn’t noticed. Just as I placed the aromatic material back in my pocket, Mike slumped and almost immediately began to snore. Angela looked at her wrist watch and declared “Nine minutes and forty seconds… almost a record!” she saw my quizzical look, “Mike invariably passes out within ten minutes of getting the whiskey out after any amount of drink.” She stood up and I must admit a small frown whispered across my lips as her dress dropped down. “I guess as you’re here we should get him to bed… but then again…” she placed her mostly full glass down on the table and walked towards the door.  At the door she turned to look at me “Are you coming?”

My tumbler clanked down heavily on the table raising a loud snore from my friend as I quickly followed his wife up the stairs. As I made the upstairs landing of the house a light flicked on in the room at the end of the corridor. I hurried, silently, along the deep carpet and entered the master bedroom. The room was bright and Angela was bent over the footboard of the bed, her hands outstretched along the wooden board and her head tilted back at me. “Not a wedding dress, I’m afraid and no panties for you to rip off…”

“No, no wedding dress… but still what I want…” I answered as I moved behind hurriedly unbuttoning my belt and pushing down my jeans and boxers to allow my aching cock to spring free. Angela glanced at my manhood and smiled, licking her lips as she moved her head forward and faced down towards the deep red duvet covering the bed. I lifted her dress and threw it across her back exposing her buttocks completely as I grasped my erection and drew it up along her soaking slit once. I thrust hard inside her, slipping easily in till my hips slapped loudly against her ass. Angela groaned loudly and pushed back against me.

****

Our initial fuck didn’t last too long as I emptied my seed deep inside her after what seemed like and probably was less than a dozen thrusts. I was ever the gentleman and cleaned out her hot, now salty tasting, slit with my tongue afterwards. She came over my tongue and face still spread across the footboard, her scream muffled in the duvet as her pussy vibrated and pulsed.

When she had calmed she showed no signs of remorse and had me help her get the incredibly drunk-heavy Mike into the bed she had just betrayed him in. I sloped off to the spare bedroom at the other end of the corridor and dropped onto the bed covers after having stripped. A sliver of a moon shone in through the open curtains as I lay there, my hand lightly playing with my pussy scented flaccid cock. I lay there for maybe ten minutes unable to leave my limp penis alone and yet not wanting to have a wank. I idly wondered about creeping back down the corridor to see if there was more satisfaction to be had that night. I was just about to give up my desires for the night and slip beneath the duvet when I heard a floorboard creak outside my room.

For a brief moment I wondered if it was Mike but quickly rationalised that there was no way he could’ve been so quiet and that I was sure that there was an en-suite bathroom to the master bedroom so he wouldn’t have any reason to be creeping about his own house. Unless, my heart gave a small murmur, he had somehow come to and… I pushed the irrational thought away. I watched the handle of my door turn; a dark gap grew almost silently till the door opened fully. Angela stepped into the room wearing a sheer nightie which gave her the appearance of a ghost in the low light cast by the moon. “Are you awake?” she whispered. I lay still my eyes almost closed and stayed silent.

She crept closer and through the slit of my eyelids I saw her face drop down my body to centre on my groin. She lifted the nightie up and over her head dropping it behind her and stood there naked before carefully climbing onto the bed. The mattress shifted and I murmured as if I was asleep, a broad grin broke out across her face, her teeth a startling white in the gloom as she inched upwards on all fours astride my legs. I’d left my hand resting beside my cock and felt her gently lift it away. For all my self control my cock twitched allowing a surge of blood to flow into it. I fought to control the grin that wanted to spread across my face as I felt her fingernail trace down my length. My cock began to swell and stretch and straighten almost lazily as her nail ascended up along the vein beneath it till it scratched around the head. I could feel my foreskin slowly retracting as more blood was diverted, the moist tip going cold in the night air as it was exposed.

Just at the lower edge of my view I saw Angela dip her head and I groaned aloud as I felt her warm breath wash over the end of my cock. “I knew you weren’t asleep…” she whispered, “I am so not finished with you yet!” her hand slipped beneath my cock raising the head and her hot mouth engulfed it. My heart beat faster and the blood surged rapidly into my cock swelling to full hardness within her mouth.

****

She wasn’t wrong! She hadn’t finished with me. We spent most of night exploring each other to the full. Twice the two of us lay spent on the bed letting tremors subside feeling that we had finally exhausted our desires only to respond to the light friendly caresses, our hands and fingers leading where our minds had seemingly given up. The dawn light was breaking as eventually Angela left my bed and pulling on the nightie deposited hours before skulking back to her own bed and her, I imagine, snoring husband. A couple of hours later when we had all risen for breakfast Mike enjoyed berating the pair of us for being unable to handle our drink. The two of us shared conspiratorial smiles behind his back.

****

If I’m honest I still hadn’t reached ‘my’ point of No Return, in fact still a long way from it. Having affairs with married women always seemed to give you, for want of a better description, a safe working distance. It could be hard to judge how the other party saw the affair but generally the rule was that they also had lots to lose as well. Angela I was sure was no different and I never sensed that I would hear those three little words that strike terror into an adulterer’s heart from her.

****

****

To be continued…

(Hmmm…I wonder…?     FtF)

~ by ftfagos on August 25, 2011.

2 Responses to “The Point of No Return…. Pt Three”

  1. I still don’t think you are.

    A fantastic continuation! Lots of suspense and teasing for not only the characters but for the readers too!!!!!

    I enjoyed how you built up… and then built it up some more and then some more!!!!!

  2. I am loving this series, can’t get enough of it! Awesome!

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