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Don't Tell My Husband
by Dancer 2001 (address defunct)

***

A story about two horny people. A guy who likes to read 
erotic stories and the married woman who likes to write 
them. (MF, wife-cheat, v)

***

I'd had a difficult night at work. State inspectors 
decided last night was the perfect time to surprise the 
kitchen. I was training a new cook, Kristen, and our 
clean up person failed to show, so Kristen and I ended 
up stayed late to wash dishes and mop the floor. The 
kitchen didn't get written up for anything, thank god! 

I left work at 8.00 pm and drove home to a dark house. I 
swore I left the porch and front room lights on but the 
house was dark. The friggin' bulbs burnt out and I 
bitched all the way to the door. The porch was no prob. 
I could reach it easily, but the other one was connected 
to an eight foot ceiling and the globe hooked to the 
fixture with three screws. I sighed as I wished for 
Mikel back from Canada. With his monkey arms, changing 
bulbs was a piece of cake.

I reached into my right coat pocket for the key and 
banged the screen door shut behind me. My fingers groped 
around for the hole and I shoved the key in. The door 
opened and I stepped inside. I sniffed for gas as the 
furnace tends to blow out. Another reason to get Mikel 
back. 

I hated going down to our spooky basement and light the 
damned thing. I didn't smell any gas but I went to the 
living room vent to check. Hot air wafted to my waiting 
palm and I let out a breath. I threw my coat on the 
couch and pulled the chain on the light here. It clicked 
but room stayed dark.

This was getting too weird. 

I made my way by touch to the front door and felt around 
for the aluminum baseball bat propped against the wall. 
I held it tightly and slowly walked to the other rooms. 
Each light didn't light and I started checking the lock 
on the back door. The bolt was still across the door and 
I listened for sounds of someone upstairs. I heard 
nothing. 

I tiptoed my way to the bottom of the stairs and waited. 
I carefully stepped on the second stair and, quietly as 
I could, locked the baby-gate behind me. If there was a 
burglar up there, he'd break his legs on the nearly 
invisible obstacle.

My feet touched only the very edges of each step as I 
went up. When I reached the second floor landing, I 
pushed my glasses up and got ready to Jackie Chan this 
mother. First, I peeked into the store room. Nobody 
there but busts of Robert Kennedy. I went across the 
hall to the spare bedroom. Here came a dilemma. There 
was enough room between the bed and the wall for a body 
to hide but the walk-in closet was in line with it. I 
figured if they were lying on the floor, I'd hear them 
getting up. 

I nudged aside the beaded curtain. Nothing. The space by 
the wall was empty as well. Two down, three to go.

My daughter's room came next. I'd arranged her bedroom 
so I could see everything from the doorway. The bathroom 
door was wide open and empty. Whoever it was had to be 
in my room. If they were hiding in the basement, they 
could stay there with the plethera of spiders.

The blankets were in a wad in the middle of the bed like 
there was somebody under them. It looked like this 
intruder wanted to play Goldilocks. Well, mama bear was 
home and mama bear was pissed off! 

I brought the bat up, ready to cold-cock the son of a 
bitch. My feet missed every creak in the wooden 
floorboards as I snuck up on the blankets. I swung back, 
then forward and connected with the lump on the bed. A 
moan came to my ears and I grinned maliciously.

I whacked him a few more times just to satisfy my pain 
inflicting lust. My hands jerked the covers away to find 
who it was. I rolled the limp body over and my jaw 
dropped with shock. It was Mikel and I'd killed him. 

'Oh shit! I'm going to prison!' I thought. I touched his 
neck and found a strong pulse. He was alive! I threw the 
bat away and picked up the phone. My shaking fingers 
dialed 911. I told the operator that I needed an 
ambulance because I beat the crap out of my husband. I 
hung up and switched on the light. This one worked and I 
got a good look at my handiwork.

Blood oozed from a gash on his forehead. I sat on the 
edge of the mattress and tugged gently on his beard. 
"Mikel? Can you hear me?" 

A groan came out of his mouth and he managed to open his 
eyes. "What the fuck happened?"

"I thought you were a burglar," I squeaked and shrugged 
my shoulders. "How was I to know you were here?"

He tried to sit up but fell back at the pain in his 
ribs. "Didn't you notice my hat and jacket hanging up? I 
left my bags in front of the door."

"No, I didn't. God, I am so sorry." I started crying and 
laid my head on his arm. "You just get back and now I'm 
going to jail and I missed you and I love you..." I 
blubbered on and on and he rubbed my hair in sympathy.

"You won't go to jail. We'll tell them what happened. 
It'll be okay, I promise."

Sirens wailed and the red lights flashed through the 
window telling us the ambulance was here. I ran down 
stairs and tripped over the baby-gate at the bottom. My 
knee twisted and came out of joint. I hobbled to the 
door and let the EMTs in. I told them he was upstairs 
and clutched my leg. 

They brought Mikel down strapped to a backboard and 
loaded him on the gurney outside the porch. I hopped 
with him to the back of the van and got in for the ride 
to the emergency room.

Doctor Jackson was on call and he gave Mikel the once 
over. Mikel gave him the whole story of getting mistaken 
for a burglar and beaten with a bat by his wife. The 
doctor ordered x-rays for Mikel's ribs and a cat scan to 
rule out brain trauma. 

I sat in a hard plastic chair and stewed for two hours. 
My husband returned and the doctor stitched up his head 
and bandaged his ribs. Nothing was broken but he had to 
keep his ribs taped for almost a month. Mikel was 
released and I called up my bud Marie for a ride home.

* * *

The next day the police showed up. My screams sounded 
like I was being murdered and they busted through the 
door with guns drawn. "FREEZE!" they shouted and we 
froze. Our hands flew in the air as we stared down the 
barrels of two police specials. 

The lead cop looked from my face, down to my naked, 
jiggling breasts and back again. He lowered his pistol 
and said to his partner, "C'mon Mike. There's nothing 
here that looks like domestic violence." He tipped his 
brim at me. "Sorry about the door, ma'am. We'll lock up 
on our way out." The two left and I heard the click of 
the lock.

Mikel's face was flushed with embarrassment. My own 
blush was from the unannounced police catching me in a 
compromising position. My husband cupped my breasts and 
rolled the nipples. "Now, where were we?" He twitched 
his cock in my pussy. "Oh yeah, you were giving me the 
fuck of a lifetime." 

My vagina clenched and I went back to riding his turgid 
prick.

My ass slapped against his thighs as I bounced up and 
down his shaft. His hands worked their magic by twisting 
and pinching my hard nipples. I threw my head back and 
speeded up. He drew the right peak inside his mouth and 
nibbled at the sensitive spot. His left hand slipped 
between our bodies and began diddling my clit.

This sent me flying over the edge. I started singing the 
Ode to Sex aria and leaned back. 

His teeth held my hard nub and I watched how the skin 
stretched. I stopped moving and squeezed his cock with 
my orgasm. I felt it jerk and knew his thick cream was 
painting the walls of my cunt. My body spasmed and 
seized at the intensity of it all.

I limply leaned on him and panted. His palms kneaded my 
ass cheeks and he lightly spanked me. The slaps got 
harder and I squealed in protest. He kept it up and told 
me, "You ain't done yet. You're gonna keep riding me 
until you faint. Then I'm gonna start plowing you." My 
muscles tightened around his semi-hard prick. His voice 
softened. "I bet you really want those two cops to show 
up again and watch you. I saw the look in their eyes and 
they wanted to watch you fuck me. They saw what a little 
slut you are. I bet you'd suck and fuck their cocks, 
wouldn't you?" He spanked me and I nodded. "You'd gobble 
down one cock and beg the other to pound your tight 
cunt. And I'd sit here and watch you get taken every 
way."

I loved it when he talked out sex scenarios while we 
fucked. He'd spur me on with a little fantasy about me 
getting it on with other men. We fucked in silence for a 
while until he found his train of thought. 

"I was just dreaming of you riding one cop, letting his 
prick stretch your snug pussy. The other would come up 
behind you and slip his dick up your ass. They'd feel 
each other fucking your holes through that membrane. 
Soon, you'll get them thrusting in you at the same time 
and you'll cum. 

"Then I'll be there to play with your swollen clit and 
you won't be able to handle the emotional explosion. 
That hot-quim and shit-shute of yours will get filled 
with their sticky jism. And you'll shove a finger or two 
up your cunt and lap the juices, wanting more."

"YES! YES!" I screamed as I came. Once more, he shot his 
load deep up my slit and called out. I slipped off his 
thighs and crumpled in a heap at his feet.

* * *

Greg wiped his cum off the monitor for the fifth time. 
He draped the sticky towel on his cock and calmed down. 
She was the best sex writer he'd read on the Net in a 
long time. Assuming she *was* a she. You can never be 
sure of anything over computer lines. He closed word 
processor and shut off the computer. He picked up his 
jeans and jockeys to throw in the laundry when the phone 
rang. He answered, "Hello?"

An excited female voice replied, "Greg, guess what? Matt 
got his visa! He's flying out of Toronto on the first 
plane to Chicago!" She let out a whoop.

"That's great," Greg said. He knew the couple had worked 
diligently with the INS to get Matt's paperwork 
approved.

"Can you drive me to the airport? Matt's plane gets in 
at two in the morning tomorrow... err, today since it's 
already tomorrow."

He glanced at the clock on the CD-player. It showed 
12:30 am. "Let me get this straight. Matt gets in Omaha 
at 2:00 am late Friday night, right?"

"Yeah, and I can't wait!" He pictured her dancing the 
jig. She didn't say anything for a minute or two. "Greg? 
Can I ask you something?"

"Sure Nichole. Fire away."

"What do you think of the Dancer stories?"

He was taken aback. He looked guiltily at his flaccid 
prick wondering if she knew what he'd been doing. 
"They're fantastic."

Nicole's voice grew throaty. "Do they, you know, get you 
off?"

Greg swallowed hard, "Uh, yes. Yes they do get me off."

"Do you feel like Dancer really draws you in? I mean, 
like when she describes how she fucks these guys, do you 
feel like you're the guy?"

He thought and said, "Yeah. Even if the story's third 
person, I can put myself there watching the sex."

"I know what you mean. I just finished 'Don't Tell My 
Husband'. The beginning was kinda scary but the ending 
really got me hot and bothered." His cock started 
getting hard again. He'd worked with Nicole for four 
years and never heard her sound so damned sexy. "Greg, 
can I come over? I need you," she purred and he was 
lost.

"Sure, no problem." 

They said goodbye and hung up. She only lived a couple 
of blocks away so he hurriedly stuffed his dirty clothes 
in a hamper and got into a pair of faded sweats. He just 
pulled a ratty t-shirt over his head when she knocked. 
He let in and helped her off with her coat.

"I've got to tell you a secret," she said. "I'm Dancer."

"What!?"

"I'm Dancer. I wrote all those sex stories and put them 
on the Net." Greg was flabbergasted. Sweet, little, 
married Nicole was a porn writer.

He put his hands on his hips. "Are you SHITTING me?"

"I'm dead serious! I know you don't believe me but it's 
true!" She worried a strand of hair and bit her lower 
lip. "I came over here because I want to have sex with 
you. There! I said it and it's out in the open."

Greg's cock twitched at her confession and grew harder. 
His sweats tented and he saw her eyes zero in on the 
spot. Her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips. 
"Stopping looking at me like that, Nicole. You're 
married. You love Matt to death."

She growled, "I haven't had any in eleven and a half 
months! I can't wait for Matt to get home!" Her hands 
balled his shirt up revealing his belly. "I need a dick, 
Greg, and I want yours." She kissed him hard and wrapped 
a leg over his hip. The heat from her covered pussy 
forged his dick to steel. It was painful and the only 
relief was to cum. Jacking off wouldn't do, it demanded 
to cum inside her.

"We're going to regret this later," he stated before 
returning her kiss. Her lips parted and they played 
tongue tag. She sucked his, mimicking a blow job and he 
ground his pelvis against hers. He picked her up in his 
arms and took her to his bed. They undressed themselves. 
Nicole ran her warm hands all over his body before 
kneeling between his legs. He watched intently as her 
mouth covered his cock and she sucked. She licked and 
teased her tongue the length and width, then caught it 
in her cleavage.

Her tits were gloriously soft and smooth as they slid up 
and down his member. It grew harder, if that was 
possible, as her tongue flickered snake-like between her 
lips. That mouth muscle lapped from the base of his 
cock, up his hair-covered chest, along his throat and 
tickled the cleft of his chin. His chin received the 
same treatment as his cock. Nicole crawled animal-like 
onto the bed and she stopped on all fours with her 
thighs spread. "Fuck me, Greg, fuck my wet little pussy 
with that long, thick dick of yours."

Greg quickly moved in behind her ass and used his 
fingers to find her hole. It was dripping with her 
juices and he found her distended clit. "Put your cock 
in me!" she demanded. He stroked her slit and coated his 
hard on with her cream. Her pouty ass rose higher in the 
air to give him more access and he poked the head 
between her swollen labia.

He gripped her bare ass and asked, "Hard and fast?"

"Yeah, just like my stories," she groaned. The first 
thrust was incredible. Her cunt was so tight he nearly 
shot his load then and there. He drew most of the way 
out and pushed back in. A rhythm developed and each 
thrust got deeper inside until he was banging at her 
cervix. Sweat dripped off his body and he could feel the 
familiar build up in his balls. On the last thrust, he 
stopped and let the feeling pass. Nicole pleaded and 
begged for him to continue but he refused.

Greg grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her head back. 
"Just like the story, this is where you get it up the 
ass." He aimed his slick rod at her asshole and pushed. 
He felt it pop passed her sphincter and she howled. He 
thought maybe he'd gone too far but she eased his guilt 
by wiggling her plump cheeks up and down to take more of 
him in. Her ass was as tight as the proverbial nun's 
box. 

The snug channel got smaller with every stroke. He 
fucked her harder and his balls tightened. Cum pumped 
out of his cock and spewed up her ass. This climax took 
a while to finish before he was soft enough to pull out. 
He flopped next to her and threw an arm over his face. 
"I can't believe that happened," he croaked. "And I 
gotta face Matt this time tomorrow."

Nicole rolled on her side and snuggled up to Greg's 
body. "Don't worry. Matt doesn't care. He says he can't 
keep up with me in the sack."

"Can anyone?" he asked with his voice cracking.

She brushed his face with a couple of fingers. "Thank 
you. I really needed a good, hard fuck." She turned his 
lips to meet hers in a soft kiss. She twirled his light 
chest hair around her delicate fingers and murmured, 
"About my stories I write as Dancer..."

Greg reached down and drew the blankets over their 
bodies. "What about them?"

"Don't tell my husband."

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any 
of the scenarios in this story should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 80