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Bull riding.

Or maybe he didn't like the experience- no, she thought. She remembered seeing his dick squirt all over the floor while being fucked on his knees. She remembered him eagerly licking his own cum off the Bull's fingers.

He enjoyed it. But maybe he can't deal with the fact that he enjoyed it.

She finished the wine, and put her phone down, and went to bed.

The next night they had Caesar salad with some spicy chicken strips on it. There was more television, more wine.

But when they got to bed, and Stephen slipped his fingers into her panties, she allowed it. His fingers found her pussy, found a little moisture, and made the moisture blossom. In the dark, she wordlessly rolled over and opened her legs.

Her husband kissed his way down her belly, which she loved, and put his mouth on her pussy. He kissed her there, and slid a finger in. He began to lick and suck on her clitoris, while sliding his finger in and out of her pussy. She moaned, Stephen was very good at licking pussy. He knew every little bit of her after years of marriage.

But then he did something that he hadn't done before. He pulled his finger from her pussy and pressed it to her asshole. He kept it there, just swirling it around, and she moaned in what seemed to him to be some kind of approval. He slid it in, and kept it there while he licked her clitoris, sucked on her until her hips were bucking against his face. She slid her pussy all up and down his face, finally putting her hands on his head and holding him motionless.

Stephen's cock was hard. He was bucking his own hips a little, sliding his cock up and down their Egyptian cotton sheets. He was about to cum, as he often did, only from that. They would have to strip the bed and get another set of sheets, or sometimes he would trade sides with her and sleep there.

But Melanie had orgasmed, and stopped him. She was going to do something she hadn't done before, and she had him lie back, propping his back on the pillows. She told him to spread his legs, and she knelt in between them, and put his dick in her mouth.

Her fingers worked in and out of her soaking pussy, but it wasn't for her. She took her finger, and pressed it to his asshole. Oh God, her husband moaned, and she began to work her way inside.

She'd never done this before, and wasn't sure where to put her finger- wasn't sure where the prostate was. It didn't seem to matter, though, her inexperience... he tensed, and yelled, and then her mouth was filled with his cum, and she drank, and drank, and drank, until finally there was no more. He was limp on the mattress, his penis shrinking in her mouth, her finger still in him.

"That was amazing," he told her, and then they washed up, and went to bed. I love you, I love you, and then to sleep.

He wanted that again the next night. Wanted her to finger his asshole while she sucked on him. But that night, she was tired. And so he went to sleep.

Again, though, she didn't. She went downstairs and poured a glass of Barolo, and again sat in the darkness, her phone in her hand. He hadn't called.

Her stomach was in knots, even if she had drank enough to have some kind of courage. She dialed his number.

And to her simultaneous relief and terror, John answered.

"Hello," he said, a completely normal thing to say when answering the phone. But she was speechless for a split second... unable to form a thought.

"Melanie?" John asked, and she finally could find a way to answer him with a quiet little yes. "What can I do for you, Melanie?"

It was hard to answer that. Clearly, she wasn't calling to pass the time. What was she going to say? I miss you? She'd only met him twice.

What she wanted to say was that she wanted more of him. But she didn't know how.

"How is your husband, Melanie?"

And she told John that she truthfully didn't know, that he seemed normal outwardly, but wouldn't talk about what had happened.

"Do you want more of me, Melanie?"

Yes, she told him. She found the strength to whisper that, alone in the dark.

"How does he feel a

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