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Married Cock

Coffee mornings in our village are a chance for us women to get together and have a ‘good old gossip’. But that’s not really my thing. It doesn’t stop me going though, as you can glean all sorts of useful information from the casual little chats you strike up.

For me, they’re all about identifying the next target. I’ll saunter up to one of the women and purposefully mention something overtly sexual to read their reaction. If they laugh or respond with something equally tittilating then I know they’re probably giving their husband what he needs, and I move on. If they hesitate, blush or falter, then I have my next potential target.

For wherever there's a frigid wife and a dry, arid love life, there’s a frustrated husband just waiting for someone like me to enter their lives...
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The village pub is busier than normal for a Tuesday night, but then again it’s a folk night, so all the local musicians and lovers of music are there, including the one I’d hoped would be here.

As I pay the barmaid for my drink, I turn and look towards John, and he flashes a smile my way. I’m the type of woman that needs no further encouragement and wander confidently over to him.

We stand and chat for a while about this and that, but on the odd occasions when he thinks I’m looking away, I’m pretty confident he’s checking me out.

“No Patricia tonight?” I enquire about his wife.

“Nah. The whole folk/pub scene isn’t really her thing,” he explains.

“Oh, but she’s still let you out to play for the night?” I tease, but make a point of touching him on the forearm to try and illicit a reaction.

The smile he flashes back tells me we’re on the same wavelength, and as the drinks flow, the band - good though they are - become a mere distraction. I suggest we head over to a quieter little nook, so we chat properly and John follows me without hesitation.

Sitting opposite me, a wooden table between us, he asks about my former husband and how I’m coping as a widow. I tell him I miss him dearly, but its been many years now and I’m more content with my life again now.

“Did you never think about remarrying ? he asks.

“No, not really. I do miss the intimacy of a relationship though,” I add, again, looking for some sort of reaction.

“You don’t have to marry, to have intimacy,” comes his reply and a mischievous smile comes across his face. I laugh back and admit that I’ve enjoyed a few flings since, but wouldn’t ever want to replace him.

“In fact you can be married and have very little intimacy,” he goes on. I feel I’ve got him on my hook already…

He goes on to pour his heart out to me about how they love each other, but the sex part of their marriage died years ago, “I shouldn’t really be telling you this…” he says hesitating.

“No, no, go on,” I say, as I place my hand over his hand, a sympathetic smile coming over my face, “we can console each other about our sexless lives.”

He laughs, but I note he makes no attempt to pull his hand away.

“Listen, it’s 10.30 and I’ve had far too much to drink, so think I’ll call it a night...” I say, hoping he’ll take the bait.

“I’ll walk you home,” comes the instant reply.

Bingo!

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It’s freezing cold as we step outside and a dense fog has descended on the village, making everywhere appear ghostly quiet. Like a gentleman, John walks on the outside as we make our way down the road and I take the opportunity to linky-dink our arms. Putty in my hands soon…

When we finally get to my house, I turn and thanking him for a lovely evening, plant a delicate little kiss on his cheek.

“Oh the pleasure was all mine!” comes his corny but charming reply.

I stop and hesitate for a second, before coyly asking him if he’ll come in for a nightcap, “Be lovely to have some company for once instead of just the grandfather clock!”

The fact he hesitates tells me he knows I’m asking him in for more than coffee, so I add “It's only twenty to eleven, you'll still be home for just after closing.”

“Oh okay then.”

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I tell John to take a seat in the lounge and I go through the charade of actually making us both a coffee. Bringing them through I’m pleased to see he’s opted for the settee and putting the mugs down on the coffee table I waste no time. I sit alongside him and tucking my feet up to the side, rest my head on his shoulder as we begin to chat again.

“Soooo, with this sexless marriage of yours, have you ever had an affair?” I ask, as I place my right hand over his left, which he has resting on his thigh.

“What?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Pat,” I tease, as I trace the outline of his wedding ring, “your secret’s safe with me.”

I sense John is a little flustered as he switches the subject, “Never mind me. What about you? Why’s there no man in your life? I’m mean, you’re a very good looking woman.”

“Why thank you John!” I tease, though I can’t deny a little skip of my heart and a tingle in my tummy at the compliment.

“But you’ve got to stop doing that!” John says, motioning to my hand, which by now has moved on to his thigh and is very gently stroking it.

“Why, don’t you like it?”

“Course I do, but that’s not the point.”

I grin back at him, “Well how about this?” I say, as I move my hand up his inner thigh and gently brush against his balls and cock. “Do you like this?”

“Jesus, Lilly, I’m a married man, for Christ’s sake!”

“I know you are. And the door’s over there if you want me to stop.”

By the hardness of his cock, I know there’s little chance of that now.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then,” I grin. Even at his age, men can’t help letting their tails rule their brains!

Fixing my eyes on him, whilst continuing to rub his now solid and delightfully thick cock, I tilt my head to one side and slowly, delicately place my lips on his.

His hand quickly comes round to stroke the back of my bum and the kiss rapidly turns passionate. His tongue’s inside my mouth, entwining with mine, his body pressing tight against me, as our endorphins rise.

We’re rapidly undressing each other now, like two lust-filled teenagers. My hand expertly unzips his fly and delving inside his boxer shorts, I grab his shaft and pull it into the open. His uncut head is already glistening with pre-cum and is quite impressive. I smile appreciatively at him, no need for words.

Looking into his eyes, I stare intensely and begin to wank him. He responds by unfastening my blouse and groping awkwardly at my right breast, rubbing and squeezing it hard as he starts to moan in response to my wrist action on his throbbing cock.

My other hand instinctively comes up to hold the hand he has on my breast and I get a thrill as my fingers touch his wedding ring once more, reminding me that this is another woman's husband that will soon have his hard cock inside me.

I know other women in the village frown on me, behind my back calling me a ‘man-eater’ and no doubt even worse, but I don’t really think that’s the case. I just miss male company, since the loss of my husband and the ocassional need to be wanted and desired…

Who am I k**ding? In truth it’s a big thrill for me, or the more so if it’s married cock. Another woman’s man. Its nothing personal against the wives of the husbands I've fucked, but it’s a huge turn-on to me. If that makes me a bitch so be it!

Lowering my head to his lap, John gasps as I slowly take his throbbing length into my mouth, inch by delectable inch, until I can take no more. God I’ve not felt a cock this thick in years. It’s truly wasted on his wife! He holds my head in position as I begin to lick, suck, nibble and fuck him with my mouth. He quickly starts to groan as I add stimulus by squeezing his heavy balls. My God I bet there's a bucketful of sperm in here, waiting to finally be released – I can’t wait!

“Jesus, Lilly!” he moans, “stop, stop!”

“What's wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing, its fantastic, but its been so long I thought I was going to cum there and then!” he replies.

I laugh and can’t deny a little tingle at the compliment. I guess compared to his barren old wife I’m a sex goddess..
I tell him to lay on his back, and a huge grin comes over my face as I look down on the lovely cock that I’m about to mount.

“Fuck!” I hear myself exclaim, as I lower myself inch by inch on top of him, once again shocked by the size of his girth, as my pussy, already soaking wet in anticipation, grips his hardness for the first time.

John’s hands rest on my hips and I slowly start to gyrate and move on him. It feels divine to finally have this other woman’s man inside me. I look down on him and place my hands on his chest, as my pussy muscles grip his hardness and I work up a rhythm.

“My God, Lilly, you’re beautiful,” John declares, “and your breasts are wonderful,” he adds for good measure. I respond by leaning forward so that they are dangling in front of his face and as his head comes up, I feed the slightly bigger left one into his gaping, open mouth.

He suckles on it like a baby as I feel his teeth tease my nipple, before taking a greedier mouthful of my soft flesh in his mouth, sucking and licking it. I cradle his head in my hands, momentarily I’ve stopped bouncing on his cock as I revel in the sensation of a man suckling on my boob. My breasts aren’t huge, but they’re a decent handful for any man, and have stood the test of time well. I know his wife offers very little in this department, so I let him enjoy himself, and he certainly does!

Finally he comes up for air and he notions for me to get up. We swap positions and I lay on my back, legs spread, my brown, hairy minge glistening from our combined love juices, beckoning him back to me.

“Make love to me, John,” I whisper.

Lying on top of me, we kiss again briefly before John moves his head to the side and proceeds to nibble my neck and ear lobe. I feel his hot breath in my ear and I shudder with excitement, as he peppers me with light kisses. My hands grasp his buttocks, pulling him into position.

He's now rock hard and enters me quite roughly, urgently even. The weight of this married man on top of me is highly arousing and the sensation of him as he builds up a fast rhythm, is over-powering.

“That’s it, John, fuck me!” I demand, as lust rises from within. The notions of love-making are gone now, I just want to be fucked and the feeling is clearly mutual.

I realise that this isn't likely to last long at this rate, but that’s not the point here. The point is getting my claws into him. Making him my man.

I wrap my legs around his bottom in a vice-like grip, encouraging him to fuck me harder, as I whisper over and over again, “Fuck me, John, fuck me..”

He responds by increasing the pace and as his intensity rises, I feel the settee start to move underneath me. My hands caress his muscular arms, as I feel his body tensing up for the climax. I momentarily think of his frigid old wife, probably sat at home with a cup of Ovaltine, no doubt wondering where he's got to at this time of night. Ha! If only she knew his cock is buried deep inside of me, enjoying the ride of his life!

This thought arouses me even further, and I’m at the point where I want to feel him shoot inside me. I fix him in the eyes and with an urgency in my voice, demand "I want your cum, John! Let me feel you cum inside me!"

“Oh I’ll cum inside you!” he gasps and grasping my head either side with his strong hands, really starts hammering into me with all the enthusiasm of a randy teenager. The settee is shuddering now, as his thrusting sends shockwaves through my whole body. I’m giddy and feel like I could faint as I look into his eyes and can see he’s instead focussed on my breasts, which if I say so myself, are wobbling impressively to his exertions...

“Look into my eyes when you cum, John!” I ask, and he immediately looks up at me.
His pupils are like saucepans, as just seconds later his face contorts and he lets out a groan and releases.

I feel wave after wave of his hot delicious sperm shooting high up my willing snatch, as months of frustration are unloaded from those big heavy balls of his. I hold the eyes of my illicit lover throughout as my pussy walls milk him for all he’s worth.

Finally spent, he collapses on top of me and I feel the full weight of him for the first time. I'm elated with the knowledge that I’ve succeeded in ensnaring another married man into doing the one thing he shouldn't! The feeling of power is intoxicating and gripping his still hard cock with my pussy, I enjoy a brief shuddering climax of my own, rinsing his fat cock with my own juices, as I dig my nails in his fleshy back.

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“It felt like you needed that!” I state, breaking the ice with our first post-fuck words, some minutes later.

“Yeah, you’ve no idea.”

“Oh I think I I have!” I reply knowingly, and we both laugh.

It’s gone eleven now and his thoughts have no doubt returned to his frigid old wife. Nevertheless we share a brief tender moment to cuddle, kiss and compliment each other.

“Sorry I have to leave so quick, you know how it is,” John says, as we get ourselves dressed again.

“It’s fine, John. And thank you,” I say, as I follow him to the door.

He turns to me and we have another little cuddle and a kiss, my arms around his neck, his hands resting just above my bum in the small of my back.

“I’m all for a quickie, but next time we’ll make love.” I whisper.

“What makes you think they’ll be a next time?” comes John’s reply.

“There’d better be!” I reply, briefly flustered, before a grin appears on his face and I realise he’s teasing, “And it better be soon!” I add, as I watch him walk down the drive and disappear into the gloomy night and back home to his wife, waiting obliviously just a few minutes up the road.

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