Entertaining the Guest

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Most kitchens across America feel uncomfortable on Thanksgiving, what with all the cooking and preparation going on. There’s always something to do, look for, put out or put back. Even a clean kitchen is usually a mess on Thanksgiving, before or after the big meal. But my extreme discomfort as I stood in my kitchen had nothing to do with the food. I was there alone with my wife. The lights were out, so the only illumination came from the chandelier over the dining table in the next room, where our guest waited quietly.

Sharon, my wife, gave me a look that would’ve killed most men. Looking back, I’m surprised I survived it. It wasn’t an angry look she gave me, but a knowing one. And considering what I knew I’d done, the prospect at her having figured it out was no less than chilling.

I pretended not to know what she was “knowing” about, but my hard swallow gave me away. Of course, it didn’t help that “she” was in the next room.

“She” was our guest who sat just ten feet away, unseen, in the dining room. Sharon and I move a lot because of my job, and rarely do we celebrate Thanksgiving with anyone other than each other. But we like company, and we’re always open to spending holidays with someone. This year I had the opportunity to invite someone from my office who was going to be otherwise alone for the holiday.

That someone just happened to be the same woman who I had almost had an affair with just a couple months earlier. Despite our near infidelity, we had patched things up afterward and were quite professional about it all. But we both still held desires for each other. I hadn’t realized my mistake until a second after the words “Why don’t you come over?” had come out of my mouth.

I might have taken the invitation back, but I couldn’t help but get excited at the prospect of spending more, personal time with this woman–named Kendra–and I tricked myself into believing I could get away with it. If it was any other woman, someone with whom my relationship was truly innocent, my wife wouldn’t have had a problem, but I had confessed to Sharon about the incident…sort of…and she had a nose for sniffing these kind of things out. Though I never told Sharon who I had almost slept with, she could read my nervousness and excitement when Kendra arrived. She knew what kind of women turned me on. She had also already met every woman at my office except Kendra, and Kendra was by far the most attractive, so it was kind of like putting two and two together.

The one thing I had going for me was that I had left out the torrid details of my almost-evening with Kendra. Sharon was under the impression that we were only tempted, that we touched each other through our clothes and “kinda” kissed before backing away from each other. Had she known the truth–that Kendra had displayed her body to me and fingered herself while I jerked myself off onto her tits and palmed her naked pussy as she came–Sharon never would’ve forgiven me, and I would’ve been single by now with half my stuff in another state.

But with the way Sharon was looking at me now, it seemed like she did know. I opened my mouth to say…anything.

And then something in my wife’s face changed. Her expression relaxed, just a little, and her eyes glimmered with something that gave me hope, however brief. Sharon moved to me, slowly pushing her body against mine and taking me delicately in her arms. Her eyes were locked onto mine, looking less accusing and more desperate with each passing moment. But what, I wondered, was she desperate for?

She kissed me, gently, and swiped her tongue between my lips, just grazing them with her soft, strong muscle before taking it back. But her lips stayed against mine, and then they opened. I opened my mouth in response, ready to accept her tongue and about to offer mine when suddenly her tongue forcefully rolled and coiled and slashed into me. The deepening of the kiss set off a chain reaction as Sharon’s body snapped to attention. Her fingers gripped me tighter, her arms şişhane escort pinned me in a fierce hug, her body pressed against me.

Sharon is shorter than me, which is why it surprised me when she somehow rose herself up as she squeezed me, putting her head above mine and her breasts at my upper chest. Then I realized that, in my shock and–I’ll admit it–fear of this situation, I had shrunk down, submitting to her aggressive advance. I was putty in her hands, and I had no idea what was provoking this. While Sharon could be spontaneous and didn’t have any problem directing things in bed every now and then, the fact that she was doing this with a guest she barely knew just a few feet away–

And then it hit me. Sharon was doing this because Kendra was here. I didn’t have time to figure out exactly why, but I didn’t need it, because the first words out of Sharon’s mouth since this all started confirmed it.

“Was it her?” she asked, breathless.

I didn’t want to answer, and I wasn’t even sure how to lie or sidestep the question, because I didn’t know what Sharon was after. I tried to break away from her, but she kept kissing me, hard, and I could only submit. I put my hands on her tight little ass and squeezed in spite of my dilemma.

Sharon took advantage of my unintended participation and lifted herself off her feet, giving her full weight to me and sliding herself up my body until her lips were kissing the top of my head, her hands were running through my hair, and her breasts were pressed against my face.

One of her breasts was uncovered; it had slipped out through the large neck of the silk top she’d been wearing. Her skin was cool against my face, and the nipple, though small, was very hard and fat. Sharon had pointy rather than round breasts, and they were large for her size, but even more unusual was how her bright pink areola covered almost the majority of them. Her one-of-a-kind boobs always got me throbbing, and so I opened my mouth and caught her magnificent tit between my lips, sucking and licking feverishly. I didn’t want to be doing this, and I was sure Sharon was up to something that would make me regret it even more later on, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Was it her?” I heard Sharon gasp again as she thrust her chest against my face.

She spread her legs around me, holding onto me. I had nowhere to go, and slunk back against the cabinets, accepting her breasts with a watering mouth, but still afraid to give her the answer she demanded. Without ceasing my licking for even a second, I glanced toward the open kitchen door, where I could see half the dining room table, all set and ready for Thanksgiving. I could even see the chairs meant for me and my wife. The only thing still out of sight, thankfully, was our guest who we had left sitting at the unseen end of the table.

Sharon pushed herself down and back onto her feet. She kissed me strong again, then looked me hard in the eyes as her hands fumbled with my belt.

“You can tell me, Chris” she said. It didn’t appear that she was going to accept my silence any longer.

I nodded and squeaked out a “yes”.

The word had barely passed my lips when Sharon slipped down before me and pulled out my hard-on. There was no teasing or stroking. She simply engulfed me, eagerly sucking me down and bobbing with long, steady movements. She was salivating immensely; I was soaked to the point of dripping in under five seconds. My whole body shuddered uncontrollably, and I fought to keep my groans and gasps as quiet as possible. I was just looking back into the dining room to check if there was anything new with my guest when Sharon released me, replacing her mouth with her hand.

“Did you fuck her?” she whispered.

“No,” I replied quickly, and I checked again on the dining room, afraid that Kendra might hear, or come around the corner at any second looking for us. We had been gone an unusually long time, and she had to be wondering what we were still doing şişli anal yapan escort in the kitchen, in the dark. And with nothing else to focus on, Kendra was probably straining to listen. Even if she couldn’t make out our words, certainly she could hear our heavy breathing.

“Did you want to?” Sharon asked.

It was one of those questions with no right answer. Obviously if this was the woman I’d been tempted by, the prospect of fucking her had crossed my mind. And Kendra was a beautiful, younger woman–I’d be surprised if any heterosexual guy who met her didn’t have at least a little fantasy shoot through their head involving getting her naked in bed. But I couldn’t see how admitting this would help my situation any.

“Sharon, please,” I said weakly, involuntarily gyrating my hips against her hand. I wanted to say more, to either ask her why she was doing this or calm her down or something, but words were hard to come by as all the energy and concentration in my body became centered around my cock.

Sharon dipped under me, putting her lips to the underside of my dick right behind my head, sucking on the ultra-sensitive flesh and tonguing it at the same time. My whole body shuddered and didn’t stop. I wasn’t sure if I was going to cum or faint. I tried to resist both.

“Did she do this to you?” Sharon asked in an angry tone. “Did cute little Kendra suck your fat cock?”

“No,” I said, gritting my teeth through the pleasure. “Sharon, my God, why are you doing this? Can’t we talk about this later…when she’s gone?”

She put my cock head in her mouth, sucked it hard, then let it plop noisily out between her lips like a big, wet lollipop. “No,” she said. “You’re going to fuck me now!” And then she went back to sucking me, taking me slow and deep, into her throat even, fucking me with her face.

I couldn’t help but groan, and I couldn’t help but become louder. I didn’t know why she was doing this. If it was her intent to embarrass me, there were meaner ways of doing it then by giving me great head.

“Let me hear you love it,” Sharon gasped at me between sucks. I had no choice but to oblige, because she changed methods again, twirling her tongue along my length as she pumped me with her mouth.

I let out a loud, short groan. There was no way Kendra wouldn’t have heard it or mistaken it for something else. And then I knew. Sharon was doing this to embarrass Kendra, but more than that to teach her a lesson. One room over, not only would Kendra be subject to the two of us doing this in her presence, an uncomfortable experience at best, but Kendra would also hear me groaning and moaning, which would only add insult to injury. It would tell Kendra that I still wanted my wife, and that my wife still had me in her control. But most of all it would tell Kendra that, no matter how much I liked her, satisfying my wife–and being satisfied by her–was more important to me than making Kendra feel comfortable. By making my pleasure audible, I was embarrassing Kendra at least as much as Sharon was.

And that was exactly the message Sharon had set out to convey. It was mean. It was crafty. And I knew it was going to work, because at that moment, though I still cared about Kendra, I wanted nothing more than to satisfy my wife.

Sharon had grabbed my ass and pulled herself against me, fucking her face on my shaft while letting her lustful, hungry moans grow louder with every stroke. I could tell that she wanted to do this to me, to make it seem like more of a punishment, and that I was to just submit to her and be as loud and obvious about it as possible. That wasn’t hard, because I didn’t need to concentrate to verbalize my pleasure. I just had to stop holding back.

“Oh God, Sharon,” I moaned, putting my hands onto the back of her head to feel her as she bobbed on me. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Oh God…”

Despite my wishes, Sharon stopped sucking me. She moved up, pulled her shirt down so both breasts şişli bdsm escort were free through her big neck hole, and squeezed them around my soaking cock, fucking her chest against me until I called out again.

“Fuck yes! Oh God I love your tits!”

That didn’t last long either, though, because suddenly Sharon was standing up straight and turning around, lifting her skirt and backing up to me. She grabbed my cock with one hand and pulled her panties aside with the other, then fed me into her tight, sopping cunt. I called out unintelligibly as I sunk into her, and just as I was about to begin fucking her, she took control and fucked her body against me. I just stood there, my back to the cabinets, as Sharon rammed her pussy against me faster and faster. Slipping my hands under her skirt, I grabbed her ass and just held on for the ride, shouting out sounds and obscenities in pleasure all the while.

We must have fucked like that for five minutes before I felt my orgasm getting too close to call off. I announced that I was going to cum soon, and Sharon pulled away from me, turned around to face me, then hugged against me, raising herself just enough to guide me back into her body. Because of our height difference, I had to hold her and do the fucking, but that didn’t stop Sharon from humping against me as she dangled in my arms. She bucked so hard and fast that I had trouble staying on my feet. Her pointy tits slapped against my face, the nipples poking at my eyes. I felt her body begin to shudder and snap. She was climaxing.

My cum surged up my shaft, and I screamed through clenched teeth. My legs went weak, and I stumbled across the kitchen for something to brace myself against. If I fell to the floor, one of us was going to get hurt. I wanted to reach the kitchen table, but I was so unbalanced I couldn’t control where we were headed: right out the door to the dining room.

I was cumming, pumping my seed into Sharon’s quivering, contracting pussy even before I slammed her down onto the dining room table. My body fell over hers and we kissed hard and deep as I instinctively thrust my sperm as deep into her as possible and as her pussy sucked it down hungrily. I was aware of the sounds of dishes clattering and wine glasses clinking as we shook the table, and Sharon’s head was resting against the yet to be carved turkey in the center. But neither of us cared about the mess we were making. I moaned loudly into her mouth as we kissed, and I didn’t stop until the last of my cum was well gone into her welcoming body.

The first thing I did when it was over was look up to see Kendra’s reaction, but her seat was empty. She was gone, and the coat she’d worn over here that I had hung on the rack beside the door was gone, too. I hoped she had left early, before things became too obvious and insulting.

I looked to Sharon, who had a sinister yet satisfied smile on her face. This was exactly what she had wanted. But it wasn’t over yet, because she slid herself further onto the table, pushing away the plates and silverware, mashed potatoes, green beans, stuffing, and the bread, then lifted her skirt, pulled off her panties and spread her legs, pointing her pussy right at my empty seat at the head of the table.

This was going to be a Thanksgiving dinner I’d never forget, and as I sat down at my seat and lowered my face to my special meal, I realized that what I had done and what I was about to eat weren’t the only things making this evening extraordinary. There was also the fact that Kendra’s wine glass, which I had filled right before entering the kitchen with my wife, was still standing, but it was empty, meaning either Kendra had slammed it down, or she’d taken her time to sip it, perhaps listening to our whole act.

The latter explanation seemed more likely when I saw that Sharon’s decorative Thanksgiving wreath that hung on the inside of the front door was still swinging on it’s nail, meaning that someone had closed the door just seconds ago. There was no way Kendra hadn’t heard everything, and it was very likely she’d been in the room as Sharon and I shared orgasms on the dining room table.

Maybe, I thought, she was even still sitting at the table until the last possible second.


FOR MORE STORIES featuring Chris, check out ‘Boardroom Presentation’.

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