* * * * *



   Don't Tell My Husband (m/f, m/m/f, oral, anal, vaginal, violence)

   Dancer 2001

   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
babygate 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 laying 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.  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
matress 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 sensative 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 stories 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 DOS Editor and shut off
the hard drive.  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...er, today since it's already tomorrow."

   He glanced at the clock on the VCR.  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 a 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's been doing.  "They're fantastic."

   Nicole's voice grew throaty.  "Do they 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 Thompsen 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 yours is it." 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>

   ======

   empath: So, waddya think?  I'm a little surprised - the detail she
described our house is a little unsettling for me, but she did say any of
the stories she sent were okay for public scrutiny (provided I filtered
through the responses:) I'm also somewhat jealous; I can't fit in her
virgin rear end...



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