In The Bedroom

In my headless flight, I had run into the bedroom. I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at the wide double bed. The sheets were still rumpled from the night before. But it wasn't the kind of rumpling that should happen between lovers. Fabian and I had slept obediently on our own sides of the bed until he got up this morning and went to the bathroom. Although he had tried to be quiet so as not to disturb me, I had woken up. His consideration for me was sweet, but I wanted less consideration and more attention.

So I stood in front of the place that was supposed to be the center of our intimacy, but instead symbolized the tragedy of our marriage.

I felt the intruder enter through the open door behind me. His footsteps made hardly a sound on the carpet, but they sent shivers down my spine. Finally, I felt his hot breath on my neck. The little hairs there stood on end.

His strong hands rested on my shoulders, ran down my arms, and then stroked my stomach.

“Well? Have you come to your senses?” he whispered close to my ear.

Senses? I assumed this was more like madness. And yet I heard myself whisper ”yes.”

He pulled up my short shirt. I gasped, and even though I wasn't cold, my nipples became hard and erect. His cheeky finger slid down over my pubic mound into the thick, curly hair. And deeper. From that moment on, every word I said was irrelevant because he could immediately tell how hot and horny I was. His fingertip brushed over my clit. A soft cry escaped my lips and I would have collapsed if his strong arm hadn't held my body firmly upright.

His insolent fingertip pushed between my labia. Yes, I felt shame, it made my face flush, and I knew I would regret it forever. But I let him. I let him touch me there. And even more, I let myself enjoy what he was doing.

“You're really soaking wet,” he whispered teasingly, ”looks like you've been waiting for this. Doesn't your old man fuck you well enough?”

I should have been offended and contradicted him. That's what a proper wife should do, I assumed. Instead, I just moaned and leaned into his touch.

Then he rudely pushed me forward. I fell onto the bed on my stomach with a squeak. Instead of using my sudden freedom to try to escape, I lay still and waited. I could hear him unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants.

The mattress gave way under his weight. His knees spread my legs. His hands lifted my pelvis. I trembled with anticipation.

The tip of his penis touched me where only my husband should touch me. Doubt overwhelmed me. What if I got pregnant? Or what if he had a contagious disease? Should I beg him to use a condom?

He gave me no time to think, no reprieve. With a powerful thrust, he rammed his cock into my pussy. I screamed and all my doubts were wiped away.

The stranger showed no consideration, no finesse, no tenderness. He simply pounded me from behind. It wasn't sex, it was more like a takeover. And yet...

It felt absolutely amazing. I dug my hands into the sheets and braced myself against every hard thrust of his hips against my backside. Oh, if only Fabian would take me like this just once, was the last clear thought I could grasp. Then everything around me blurred into a jumble of feelings, noises, sounds, and smells that overwhelmed me. I was close to orgasm.

“Oh, yes, yes. Yes. Yes. Yes,” I gasped.

But he was faster. One last time, he drove his rod into my hole. He growled. I swear I could feel him squirting his fertile seed into my unprotected womb. And the certainty that he was impregnating me at that moment was what carried me over the edge. I climaxed like never before.