Doing A Carol 6
Dear Diary.
I’ve just woken up from passing out on my antique four poster bed and a few hours have gone by like lightning. My make up is all over the place and I look a right mess. I’m glad no one can see me now as my friends wouldn’t recognise me.
What was I thinking of?
Having drunk some water, removed my make up and got undressed, I decided I’ll have a shower in the morning as I couldn’t cope standing up straight right now.
Still woozy from all of that prosecco (I don’t suffer like this when I drink champagne) my head was confused as to what had happened earlier.
Did I really prance about half naked infront of all of my friends? Did I really ride Michael like a horse and slap him on his arse? And why did I like it?
And what the fuck was all that about in the car? Was Michael happy to see me in that kind of sex way or was he his usual ‘soul of the party’ self and was generally excited about being the centre of attention?
Whatever it was, there were lots to think about.
I’ve never looked at another man in that kind of way before, or even think naughty thoughts like that. Jerry has always been the number one man in my life. Yes, our sexual activities maybe bland, damn right missionary, but it was enough for me. Or was it?
What have I done? Why do I feel so confused, naughty or even aroused? Am I the only one or do other people think like this?
Is this right? Why do I want to have another peak at Michael’s bulge? Is it right to want to see what he’s hiding?
Then ping, a WhatsApp message appeared on my phone. It was from Michael.
Fuck! Should I open this? Of course I should. He could be letting me know that Sara is home and safe. What else would he be messaging me for?
Why am I shaking? What’s wrong with me? It’s just a text.
My wish had come true.
Micheal had sent a picture of himself, sat on the bonnet of his car in his tight trunks, obviously pleased with himself.
Wow! Not wow. I shouldn’t be looking. I turned the message off and put my phone on my bed.
Damn. He knows I’ve seen it by the blue ticks.
Ping. Another text.
‘I hope you like.’ Followed by a horny devil emoji.
Yes I do like. No I don’t. I must control myself. But yes I definitely do like. Definitely.
Do other people have naughty thoughts about someone else’s partners? It it taboo? Pervy? Hot?
Whatever it is, it starting to make my heart race and my stomach has began to flutter.
Can I? Should I? Why is he in my head? Go away. Go away.
My breath became deeper.
I took another look at his pic and zoomed in.
What’s come over me? What am I doing? My hand started to rub my lady parts.
I haven’t felt excited like this in ages. Not excited, aroused.
‘I’m glad you got home safely. Is Sara there?’ I messaged back.
Ping. ‘Yes she’s in bed. Are you?’
What should I say? The moment took over and my fingers tapped, ‘Yes I am.’
Ping. ‘Mmmm.’
Mmmm! What does that mean? I replied, ‘I’m off to sleep.’
Ping. ‘Alone?’
Of course I’m alone. Jerry is back in Essex and I’ll be joining him later that day. ‘Yes,’ was the short answer.
Ping. ‘That’s a shame.’
‘Jerry is back home. I’m just staying over here for the night.’
Ping. ‘Ah. Do you like the pic I sent you?’
Fuck yes. ‘Nice car.’
Ping. ‘Ha ha. I’m not talking about the car. Anything else?’
What could I say? Nice bulge. Now take your pants off and show me what you’ve got. ‘It’s very cheeky.’
Ping. ‘Just cheeky?’
What else does he want? Yes I know what he wants. ‘Very naughty.’ That should make him happy.
Ping. ‘I like being naughty.’
‘I can see that!’
Ping. ‘Do you?’
‘What?’
Ping. ‘Like being naughty?’
Damn. He’s trapped me. ‘Sometimes. When I’m in the mood.’ That should shut him up.
Ping. ‘Mmm. Sounds good. Are you in the mood now?’
Will he never give up? ‘I’m too drunk to be in the mood. And in the mood for what?’
Ping. ‘Stop playing games.’
‘Just wondering what you’re on about.’
Ping. ‘You know what I’m on about.’
‘Tell me.’
Ping. Another picture arrived. This time it was Michael in the nude.
Wow!
Ping. ‘You like?’ Same question as before.
How would any hot blooded woman not like? His cock was erect, thick and meaty. The rumours were true!
Do you hear me complaining? ‘Great picture. Sara’s a lucky woman.’
Ping. ‘Not that lucky lately.’
‘Oh I see. So do you show your bits to every woman?’
Ping. ‘Only the ones I like!’
‘That’s nice. I’m lucky then?’
Ping. ‘Yes. And you could be too!’
‘Oh.’ My heart pounded even harder as my fingers explored my pulsating clit.
This is so wrong. So wrong but so right!
I opened my legs wider and slipped my finger in to my vagina. Slipping it in and out, thinking of Michael munching down there, licking and teasing me, tickling me with his tongue.
I should be thinking of Jerry. No can’t. Need Michael.
Oh God. Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts. No, good thoughts. Great thoughts. Hot thoughts.
I arched my back with desire. I wanted him. Desperately wanted him.
Ping. ‘Let me know when you want to see it for real. You won’t regret it.’
I know I won’t. I want you now Michael now! I want you now.
I stared his the latest picture, rubbing my bits and thrashing about on my bed. I wanted his chunky manhood inside me, pumping his hard cock and pushing my boundaries.
I let out a soft moan. By now my whole body was quivering with wanton last.
Fuck I’m going to cum.
A shower of heavenly juices flowed out of me, soaking my legs and hand.
What have I done? Did I regret it? No.
Did I enjoy it? Yes. Do I want more? Fuck yes!
Ping. ‘You still there?’
‘Just about. Feeling sleepy.’ I lied. Well kind of.
‘I shall let you sleep. As you will need your energy soon. Night.’
‘Night night.’
I Iaid on the bed exhausted. Panting from a different kind of experience that I’ve never had with Jerry.
Poor Jerry. I mustn’t let him know. He’d be heart broken. Devastated.
Damn. I really do need a shower now.
Shit, shit, shit! What have I done? I can’t really pursue this with Michael, can I? It was a drunken thing, a spur of the moment, horny thing, wasn’t it? Nothing special. Just silly text fun.
Damn. I can’t concentrate. Need my shower.
Oh Michael, what have you done to me? I’m a wreck. You’ve messed with my head.
I’m a successful business woman with a loving husband.
Surely texting isn’t cheating, is it? Nothing really happened. But why do I feel so guilty?
Damn. I’ve got lots to think about. But that can wait until the morning.
But for now, that fountain of hot water awaits.
#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife