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This story takes place straight after “Mari’s Confession (Part 2)” I didn’t realise how tired I was until I started to drive home. My legs and arms ached, and I hadn’t really been able to clean myself up properly. I felt stiff as I climbed out of the car at the beach house and went straight to the shower. Standing under the blisteringly hot water, my eyes closed, I started to come down from the high. I couldn’t remember a more intense experience in my life than I had had that afternoon. I held the shower head against my pussy, trying to wash away the boys’ spunk, but I knew that the damage might already have been done. Even at my age, there was a chance I was pregnant. After my shower, I made myself a sandwich and shortly after that my daughters came home. As a result, it wasn’t until I was tucked up in bed, that I retrieved Mari’s letter and carried on reading. I slapped Oscar’s face, “You bastard,” I shrieked. His limp cock slipped from my pussy and he knelt down in front of me, next to the bed. “You little fucker. What have you done? I have betrayed my own sister, my own flesh and blood and for what? For a few minutes with your little dick stuck inside me. It wasn’t even pleasurable!” I slapped his face: first one cheek, then the other. He just knelt there and took it.“What would give you pleasure?” he mumbled.“What?”“What would give you pleasure? I’ll do whatever you want.”“Can you turn back time? Can you undo what we’ve done? Can you make it so we never did any of this?”He shook his head, looking down at the floor. “No,” he said quietly, “No, I can’t. But I wouldn’t want to if I could. I have always been attracted to you, always. Being with you has been a dream come true. I feel guilty too, but that’s not the only thing I feel. Tell me truly–don’t you feel anything for me?”I stood there, looking down at him, my chest heaving as I breathed heavily, thinking about what he had said. My shoulders sagged and I let out a long breath, “You made me feel good. You made me feel great. It had been a long time since I had felt like I did with you–but that doesn’t make it right.”“I know.”“And I need to tell Irene. I can’t keep this from her, and I don’t know what will happen when I tell her. I don’t know how she will react.“Neither do I. But…”“But what?”“But I want you anyway.” He was still looking at the floor. I was still angry with him. Right then, I felt like this was all his fault. I slapped his face, which was still red from the last time. ”Still want me?”He nodded and I slapped him again. “Still?”“More and more.”“Stand up.” I said. It wasn’t a question, or a request–it was a command. Oscar stood. I took a hair brush from the bedside table. “Turn around.” He turned away from me. I leant in close to his ear and growled, “Bend over.” He bent over the bed.I lashed out: all the frustration and guilt of the last day came out as I hit his arse over and over with that brush. each time I connected, there was a loud smacking sound and Oscar flinched. After a while his bum started getting red, and Oscar started moaning. I must have hit him two dozen times before I dropped the brush and sat down heavily on the bed next to him. When I glanced over, I saw that Oscar’s little cock was hard again.“Oh God.” I said, “You really did enjoy that.”He smiled at me, and nodded. He shuffled around until he was kneeling in front of me, trying to prise my legs apart. He kissed my knees, his fingertips reaching up to my breasts. He was insatiable! Cupping and squeezing my breasts, he wore away my resistance, getting me to part my legs enough that he could place a kiss on my underbelly; then his tongue found my clit. I could hear him inhale deeply through his nose and he grasped my tits more tightly.Oscar’s tongue slipped along my slit–and into my pussy. I know I should have resisted, but I gave in, I surrendered. In no time at all, his tongue was replaced by his cock and he fucked me again. This time that little cock stayed hard for a good long time–long enough for him to make me cum too, with my legs wrapped around his arse. I clawed at his back, raking at his skin as I squealed and bit into a pillow to stop from screaming.He collapsed on top of me and I had to push him off me–I couldn’t breath with his weight. “Let me get up.” I said. “I need the toilet.”“Can I watch?” he mumbled.“What? No. No you fucking can’t. You fucking pervert. Fucking your wife’s sister then watching her piss. Jesus!”“Actually,” he şişli escort said, unabashed. “That’s not what I want.”“Oh really?” I replied, indignant. “So what do you want?”“I want you to piss on me.”“What the fuck?”“I want you to piss on me. Make me feel bad, ashamed, humiliated for the way I have treated you and Irene.”Oh God. How do I explain, sweet sister? At the time, in some surreal, twisted way it seemed like the right thing to do. Somehow, pissing on Oscar would right a wrong. Maybe it just shows how screwed up my thinking was that this was anything like a good idea. I couldn’t think straight. My world was turned upside down.I hadn’t said yes, but he followed me into the bathroom anyway. I really did need to pee. But then he lay down in the shower, looking up at me expectantly. Humbled somehow, by what he was asking for. Cum still dribbling from his cock, he lay there–and I did want him to feel the shame and the guilt that I felt. I really did.So I stood over him and pulled my labia apart and let go; I let fly a stream of piss which splattered all over him: his body, his neck, face, everywhere. When it hit his face, he opened his mouth. He only closed his eyes when they seemed to sting. But he was smiling. He was fucking smiling. Taking a pee doesn’t take very long, but sometime during that time, something changed–like a switch was flipped. By the time I had finished, I realised I was enjoying it too–I enjoyed humiliating Oscar, and wanted to find other ways to do so. I don’t know if it was a deep seated desire, or it came out of the guilt I was feeling about fucking him, or what. But something changed. I didn’t care if he enjoyed it or not. I would do whatever I could to humiliate the sordid little man. It was at about that point that I put the letter aside, and turned out the light. I was tired, and really needed to start packing the following day. Tomorrow was Thursday, and we’d be leaving for town on Saturday. In the morning, I was up earlier than the girls. By the time they were up, I had run the washing machine a couple of times, and made myself some breakfast. They had plans for the day, but promised to be home by six so they could spend the evening packing. By the time the third washing load was on the spin cycle, they had left. I was sweeping up the living room, wearing a bikini and sarong. The tiles under my feet were cool and refreshing. Every so often, as I reached under a piece of furniture, or stretched too far, I’d remember how much I ached from the previous day. I was wrapped up in my own little world, so I started a bit when the doorbell rang. I straightened my hair in the mirror as I went to the door, not really expecting anyone. And there was Thomas. Smiling his broad smile he said, “Hello.” “Hello Thomas,” I replied. “How are you?” “I’m fine,” he said, “Very well, in fact–except that I can’t get you out of my head.” I smirked and bit my lip. “Oh dear. And what are you going to do about that?” “That’s why I’m here.” “You mean you don’t have any post?” He shook his head. I noticed he wasn’t in his uniform. He was just wearing jeans and a t-shirt. “You want to come in anyway, don’t you?” He nodded and I stood aside, ushering him in with a wave of my hand. When he got into the living room, he turned around and wrapped his arms around me, kissing me fiercely on my mouth, his tongue eager to enter. I held his head in my hands and returned his kiss, feeling his hands explore down my back and squeeze my bum. “Oh Thomas,” I said, breathless as we broke from the kiss. He still held me in his arms and already I could feel the telltale bulge in his trousers, pressing against my thigh. “I went to sleep thinking of you last night.” It was the truth, but not the whole truth. He pushed me back into a chair and knelt in front of me. God his smile made me hot. His whole face smiled, but especially his eyes, which sparkled with mischief and delight. I felt his hands slide up my legs; his fingertips hooked my bikinis bottoms and he pulled them off, in one smooth motion. Then he pushed my knees apart and I knew what he wanted. The first thing I felt was his breath on my thighs and I closed my eyes. His rough chin on my skin was next and finally, his tongue, sliding slowly up and down my slit. I bit on my finger, closed my eyes and pushed towards him as he teased and licked at my cunt. Oh God, my cunt, still tender from the abuse I had taken the day before, but mecidiyeköy escort willing, so willing to receive this visitor, this beautiful, loving tongue, snaking its way inside me, teasing and flicking, torturing me in the most delicious way. He made me cum like that–he had a bigger cock than I’d ever seen before, but he made me cum with his tongue; he was so eager, so enthusiastic and his rough skin felt amazing against my sex. I just melted into the chair. Afterwards we sat and had a cup of coffee in the kitchen. I sat on his lap like a teenager and giggled as we spoke. I was infatuated with this boy; every so often I’d feel his cock twitch in his jeans and it would give me a thrill: my blood would rise and I swear my nipples would stiffen. “Take me out.” I said. “Really?” “Sure–why not?” “But people know you around here–know you’re a married woman.” I leaned in and whispered my response, “I know. It’s delicious, isn’t it?” Thomas chuckled. “People know me and they know Oscar. But why should I be embarrassed to be on your arm? To be with you? It’s Oscar who’ll have the problem.” He shrugged. “I suppose.” “What about your daughters?” “Oh… don’t worry about them. They’re miles away with friends.” I held out my hand and took him to the door, then we walked down the street towards the local bar, hand in hand. I was so excited, like I was showing Thomas off to the world. And how could this be more embarrassing, how could this be worse than what I had read in the letter from Mari? In the bar, I ordered a glass of white wine and Thomas had a beer. We sat in a small booth in the corner, more so we could have privacy than to hide from anyone the fact that I was having a drink with a gorgeous young man. “So. Is this how you usually spend your day off?” Thomas chuckled into his beer and smiled at me. “Well,” he replied, “Not usually. Usually I spend my time studying. I am still at school–studying Business.” I gave a fake yawn. “Well, if you want to go back to it.” “No, no!” he said quickly, “I’d far rather be here with you.” I squeezed his leg under the table, and whispered, “And that is the correct answer!” I paused, but then: “Listen, I have until six or so this evening when my daughters get home. What would you like to do?” He took another drink of beer, put down his bottle and said, “Well, I’d very much like to…” he stumbled, “Carry on from where we left off earlier.” I grinned, and bit my lower lip. God–he really did make me feel like a teenager. “Sounds good to me,” I replied. “But… Well… I would like to know um… What’s going on?” “Going on?” “Between us.” “How so?” “Well, I thought you were a happily married woman, and here you are, with a guy you only just met yesterday and… well… you know…” “Ah. I see. Well, let me explain–at least as far as I can.” And I did, as best I could. I started with Mari’s letter, but then realised I kind of had to back up from there–because I didn’t read the thing until after I’d fucked Thomas. I went back to Rodrigo, and Yolanda and the missionaries and all of that, and explained how my horizons had broadened over the last few months. “And now we get back to the letter.” “The one I delivered yesterday?” I nodded, “Yes. It was from my sister Mari. She has been alone this summer,and so has my husband–Oscar. And her letter was a confession–a confession that she and Oscar have been having an affair. A pretty weird affair if you ask me, but an affair none-the-less.” “Wow.” “Yea! So, after I read that, I didn’t feel at all bad about what happened with us, yesterday. And in fact.” “What?” “Well…” I started to blush, I looked down at my glass, and then finally back at Thomas’s intense black eyes. “I had a bit of an adventure yesterday afternoon. I took Mari’s letter down to the beach and read it.” “Uh huh?” “And I met a young Indian man–he was a virgin.” Oh?” “But now he’s not.” “I see,” said Thomas. I grinned, my cheeks burning. “And then he introduced me to five of his friends.” “Oh?” “And now none of them are virgins.” “Holy shit.” I nodded. “Yup. Quite the little slut, eh?” He took my hand, and placed it gently on his crotch–the bulge was enormous and throbbing–it made me gasp. “Well, the idea turns me on,” he explained. “A lot!” “It appears so,” I replied, and gave his cock a squeeze through his jeans. Thomas leaned forward and whispered, “I need to fuck you, you gorgeous, whore, you!” Whore! A big word. It made me excited and ashamed and outraged at first–but I saw that it ws true, and, in a way it was liberating to admit. Yes, I was a whore. I was a slut. I did enjoy sex–not sex to cement a long and loving marriage, but sex for its own sake, sex for fun. Sex for the thrill of it. “Say it again.” I said.” “You’re a fucking whore,” replied Thomas. “A fucking cock sucking, cum drinking, thrill seeking whore. A slut.” “Yes,” I hissed. “That’s me. Right now I want your cock.” I punctuated the sentence by squeezing it once more, and felt it move in my hand. “Right now, it’s yours.” I drained my glass and Thomas his bottle, picked up my handbag and lead him out of the bar. it was only a quarter of a mile from the bar to a coastal path that wound up onto the cliffs which broke up the diferent beaches, one from the next. Hand in hand we started to walk along the cliff path, looking down onto the sea. I could see that Thomas’s cock was still hard, as could anyone who happened to glance at him as we walked. The futher we went along the path, the quieter it became until we had gone ten minutes without meeting anyone. To the inland side of the path, there were woods now, and that’s where I lead my young lover. We found a secluded spot and sat down in the shade of a tree. I put my hand on his thigh and rubbed it up and down, every so often, letting my hand brush against his crotch. Meanwhile, with his arm around me, he cradled my breast and gave it the occasional squeeze. “Would you like to read the letter?” I asked him. “The letter from your sister?” “Mmm hmm.” “Wow. I’d love to.” I fished it out of my bag, and, as I caressed his thigh, he started to read. “No,” I directed. “Read it out loud.” And I showed him where to begin. Oh, dear Irene. I got such a thrill from telling Oscar what to do. “You’re fucking disgusting,” I said, “Take a shower.” He got up and turned the water on.”Wait a minute,” I continued, “Clean me up first.”He knew what I wanted. Kneeling in front of me, he licked at my pussy, licking every last drop of piss from my folds. When I was satisfied I slapped his face and pointed at the shower. He stood under the shower and washed himself. When he got out, and dried himself off, he went to get some clothes. “No.” I said, “Who said you could dress?””No one.””That’s right. No one. You can stay naked.” He bowed his head. “Now–make me something to eat.”And he did. Stark naked he went to the kitchen and made me some breakfast while I took a long hot shower. And what a feeling I had. It was like being drunk–but drunk with power over Oscar. I was sure he’d do whatever I told him–and that was intoxicating. “Wow,” said Thomas, and I gave his cock another squeeze. “Read on,” I said, and unzipped his jeans. As I fished out his enormous cock, and started to stroke it, he went on.Oscar went back and forth for me, getting coffee and toast and scrambled eggs. Salt and pepper, more toast, and so on. Whenever I felt like he wasn’t moving fast enough, I’d slap his thigh and he’d jump. When he jumped his cock would bounce and slowly, during breakfast, it got harder. By the time I had finished my coffee, it was stiff, and sticking out straight in front of him.”You’re like a dog.” I said. “Behaving like a dog. With no self-control. Get on your knees. If you’re going to act like a dog, you should walk like a dog. Get down on your hands and knees.”He did. Oscar knelt there in front of me, as I sat at your kitchen table, wearing your dressing gown and he behaved like a dog. I told him to lick my feet and he did it. He licked my feet!”Can I…” he whispered, afraid of how I might respond. “Can I bring you something?”I shrugged and nodded. Oscar crawled form the room, and returned a few moments later with a collar and lead. He offered it to me. Well, I know you have never had a dog, so I don’t know where it came from, but it was perfect. It fit him tight and I loved it. I stood up and walked from the room, pullling Oscar on that lead. “Holy shit,” said Thomas. “What?” “A whore, married to a pervert.” As if to confirm what he’d said, I opened my mouth and fed his cock into it. My tongue tip exploring the shape of his glans, my hands stroking up and down his shaft. When I opened my mouth wide enough to take him in, my jaw ached. “Oh, fuck yes,” breathed Thomas. “Yes…” I released his cock from my mouth and whispered, “Not ‘a’ whore. Your whore.” Then he put down the letter and held my head in his hands, slowly pushing me down onto his shaft until I gagged. He backed off just a little then rocked his hips up and down, slowly fucking my mouth, making me groan with desire, with longing.

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