The Former Trophy Wife – Part 2 (FM, Cheating)

(I can’t believe it’s been 7 months since the first part! Tried to do too many different things, but really I should have finished this much sooner. Hopefully it won’t take me too long to do a part 3!)

I pull my panties and leggings up and then turn back to Chris, pressing myself against him and putting my lips to his once more. Despite having found such a potent release just a few minutes prior, my body already aches for more attention from my new found lover. From the way he kisses me, it appears to be mutual.

We start to move from the breakfast bar in the kitchen, refusing to break the kiss as we leave and head towards the stairs that will lead us to… well, I can’t decide where to have him next, but there’s plenty of spare rooms in the house for us to have fun in.

Just as we reach the stairs a buzz comes from the pocket of Chris’ jeans. We stop and he quickly pulls out the phone, the illusion of the moment paused for a time while he looks at the screen.

“It’s the school” he says with a frown, and presses the green button to answer it.

While he speaks to the school, the tinny voice of the receptionist just barely audible, I bite my lower lip and pull my top up to cover my breasts, the return of normality reminding me I’m half naked. I watch Chris nod and look concerned as he speaks, and determine that whatever the reason the school has for calling him, it isn’t a good reason.

Chris cancels the phone call and sighs. “Ellie has had a fall in the playground. Nothing serious but… I need to go and pick her up and take her home.”

I bite my lip again and nod my head, understanding he needs to leave and be a father for a time but also feeling empty and at a loss. I know I’m being silly, but after so long of not feeling wanted, it’s hard to shake the feeling of being discarded once again.

“I know,” I say quietly and with a weak smile before he leans forward to kiss me lightly on the lips.

“I wish we had time for more Jen. Fuck that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever done. But… you know.”

“I know,” I repeat, and we kiss once more before he lets go of me to put on his muddy shoes and thick coat. There’s a moment of selfishness where I feel the need to go to him, unzip his jacket and tell him to fuck me quick, but I know it’s unreasonable and unfair. I share one last silent look with him before he leaves and I feel a dark abyss grow inside of me.

It’s a feeling that lasts the rest of the day. In the solitude of my home, a grand tomb that I’ve been sentenced to spend the rest of my life in, I struggle to find the guilt I should feel about fucking someone other than Joel. Not just fucking someone else, but enjoying it. Enjoying it so much I was ready for more the moment me and Chris finished our first sordid act.

That feeling of need for him doesn’t subside as the evening arrives and I become a mother once more, rather than something most resembling a horny teenager. The distraction of looking after Jake helps me keep my focus away from Chris, and I can even pretend to be a doting wife when Joel gets home late.

Fucking Chris seems to have awakened something in me, even with Joel. That night I try to instigate something with him, only to rebuffed under the excuse of tiredness.

It only makes the abyss of loneliness grow inside of me. Instead, I spend time under our duvet, furiously sucking him off while thinking about how much I want to do this to Chris and how much I despise Joel for making me this unhappy. When I swallow his load, I leave to clean myself up and spend ten minutes in the shower pleasing myself with two fingers to the thought of being fucked hard by Chris.

When I release its not the same, and I know I need more.

The next morning I’m disappointed, although not too surprised, to see that Chris and Ellie aren’t on the school run. I contemplate texting him and asking to see whether she’s alright, but then I remember that he’s not been in touch and perhaps he’s regretting what we’ve done together.

The rest of the day, even with the cleaners around and making small talk, makes me feel more alone than I’ve ever felt. It’s not what I’ve done that makes me feel bad, it’s the thought of never experiencing anything like that again. To be something more than an object, to be something more than a mother.

In bed that night, once more I try to seduce my husband just so I can feel something close to what I shared with Chris, and once more I’m rejected. I grumpily tell him that I won’t be going down on him again, turn my back to him and fall into an uneasy sleep.

Chris isn’t on the school run the next day either and the urge to text him grows unbearable. Was it that bad? Is he feeling the guilt I know I should be feeling? I return home to the cleaners, who barely speak to me, and instead I spend the morning in bed feeling depressed with my life situation.

I must have drifted off, as I’m woken up around lunchtime by one of the cleaners who tells me that there’s someone at the door for me. I frown and tell them I’m not expecting anyone, and make to fall back asleep once more.

“He says he’s Chris. From school.”

I shoot up from the bed and feel my heart beat faster. I’m not suitable for any kind of visitor, nevermind the man I’m lusting so significantly after. I tell the cleaner to head back downstairs and tell him I won’t be long while I brush through my golden hair and tie it into a ponytail when I realise it’s too unruly. With one last look in the mirror and a wish that I was perhaps wearing something more provocative than loose fitting pajamas, I head down to meet him.

He’s looking up at me as I descend the stairs, and I feel my heart pound in my chest and my body tingle at just the mere sight of him. He doesn’t smile though, and I notice the slightly nervous way he’s standing. It makes me wonder what he’s been thinking about these last few days.

“Hi” I say when I get to the bottom of the stairs, hand gripping the railing as I keep my distance from him lest one of the cleaners sees us a little too familiar. It’s already plenty dangerous enough with him being here at the same time.

“Hi,” he replies back with a nervous smile. “Er, can we talk?”

I glance around, looking for the cleaners. When I can’t spot them I silently indicate he should follow me to the kitchen which he does after he’s removed his muddy shoes, and I remember that he was working down the road on a neighbour’s tree this week.

Glancing once at the breakfast bar that he’d taken me on the other day, I move to the sink and lean against it, arms wrapping around my body as he comes in with his shoes off and looking nothing like the confident man that had fucked me so well the other day and made me feel alive. He glances out into the hall one more time then back to me.

“So about the other day…”

“I know what you’re going to say,” I interrupt. “You’re going to say it was a mistake, that I’m married and that it won’t happen again.”

The days of bottling all of this up spill out of me that I can’t stop myself from rattling out the hurt I’m feeling. I take a step towards Chris, who’s looking at me awkwardly and with his lips slightly parted.

“I know exactly what you’re going to say because I should be saying it too. I should be telling you that it was a mistake but I won’t because it was the first time I’ve felt anything since my son was born! Anything! Do you know what it’s like Chris? Do you… do you know how it feels to know you should feel bad but you can’t?”

Tears stand in my eyes and my fists are clenched. Chris looks at me with those sad, compassionate eyes but hesitates from putting a hand on me, his eyes looking to the door and clearly showing how worried about being caught. I just shake my head and point to the door, suddenly furious.

“Just get out. Get out because you got what you wanted the other day when you fucked me. Just fucking get out.”

My voice is a deep, dark snarl of hurt and pain. Chris doesn’t move though, so I try to push him away only for him to grab my wrist and pull me towards him, our bodies pressing together. Just that touch alone makes my pulse race.

“I’m going nowhere,” he growls in a deep voice, resonating and rumbling my body. “And we’re gonna talk. But not here where people can hear. Is there anywhere we can talk privately?”

I lick my lips and quickly wrack my brain before nodding towards the garden. “Go round the back. There’s a shed where we can talk.”

Chris nods, lets go of me and steps out of the kitchen and back towards the front door. In a few moments of shuffling into shoes, I hear the door open and close and then I quickly pull on a long coat and the boots I’d worn on the school run that morning. I leave through the patio doors that lead into the garden, snaffling the keys for the shed and the gate, and head onto the snow-covered lawn.

We walk silently to the large shed, an extravagance on Joel’s part and bought solely to impress his friends with garden work he didn’t even do. I’d wanted a summer house, somewhere to host friends. But no, he had to appear somewhat manly. And what was more manly than a shed?

I unlock the door and then step into the musty unit, unused over the winter months, and pull the string to turn on the light. Chris steps in after me and pulls the door to before casting an eye over the equipment that surrounds him.

“Some nice gear in here.” he says with a hint of admiration, before turning his dark eyes to me. “I’ve not been avoiding you Jen. Well, maybe a little. But I needed time to work out how I felt.”

“And what about how I felt?” I say quickly, a little heat in my voice. “Is that not important?”

He raises his hands in defence at me. “Of course it is. More so, actually. I mean, you’re the one with more to lose.”

That seems to snap something in me and I step forward, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. I grab hold of his coat and glare at him, my voice harsh and low.

“I have nothing left to lose, don’t you see that! I… I feel nothing. I’m not a woman anymore, just a mother and I’m barely that. The other day… that was the first time I’ve felt alive in years Chris. The first time I’ve felt anything in years. So there’s nothing for me to lose, because I don’t feel like I’ve got anything. All this… it’s just a fancy prison.”

Chris looks at me for a moment when I finish, letting my words sink in. His kind face hadn’t flinched in my harsh tirade, allowing me to rage at him without even moving. He was like a storm wall against my maelstrom of hurt.

“What about it made you feel alive?”

His question takes me by surprise, but I answer quickly. “Because you fucked me.” I tell him. “No pale imitation of sex, no just going through the motions of giving a shit. I could feel what you thought of fucking me Chris. And it made me feel fucking good.”

As I speak, Chris slowly pushes me back until I’m pressed against a workbench which has been robbed of any work. His hand is in my coat and pressed against my ass and he looks down at me with the same desire I saw the other day in the kitchen.

“You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” he tells me, then lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me as passionately as I’ve been imagining since the day he left the house.

I melt into him and clutch his coat in a death grip, afraid to let him go, while his hands pull the pajama bottoms past my wide hips until gravity takes over and they fall into a puddle at my feet. It’s one of the things I admire about him – there’s no bullshit, just a simple desire to take me. Without any words at all he makes me feel more wanted than I’ve felt with Joel.

Stepping out of the bottoms, I spread my legs as he cups my face in one large hand as the other makes its way up my inner thigh and to my soaking wet lips. Chris doesn’t wait when he gets there, instantly pushing one finger into me and making me cry out so loud I am instantly worried a cleaner might have heard.

I exhale loudly as the kiss is broken and he starts to fuck me with his hand. “Like I wouldn’t want to fuck you again” he growls against my neck, kissing it as I lift my head and expose more of it to him.

“Just fuck me” I groan, and Chris grins at me.

“Oh you wanna be fucked?”

“Yes” I answer through gritted teeth. “I want you to fuck me just as hard as you did the other day. Fuck I need your cock Chris.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm” is all I can manage as he removes his hand from my pussy and moves wet fingers back to his jeans, unzipping the zipper and pulling out his big, hard cock.

My breath shudders at just seeing it once again. Thick, with powerful veins popping along the length of the long shaft. All mine, I think greedily. I want it to be all mine.

And then it is.

Chris lines himself up and plunges his length into me, my cry echoing around the shed just as he takes me with the same vigour and passion he’d given me the other day, every bit as good as my imagination had toyed with since the moment we’d finished a few days ago.

His hands grip the slight fat of my hips but he doesn’t make me self-conscious about it. Not with the way he looks at me, how the desire burns in his eyes like a beacon. Those strong hands pull me onto his cock and my head is thrown back as he fucks me.

Thankfully he’s a little more aware of others being in the relative vicinity than I am, and after perhaps too many loud moans he puts a hand over my mouth to stifle the noise I’ve been making.

“Forgot how noisy you were.” he says with a grin, using his hips now to roll himself hard and deep into me, his eyes leaving me to look down as a free hand pops open my pajama buttons to display my heavy breasts. Again I see that same look of lust I’d forgotten all about over the last decade, my body feeling ten years younger in his experienced hands.

I lean back onto the bench until my torso is flat against it, my hips dangling and held up by his strong hands. Those I notice, before the battle comes for me to stifle my moans as he takes me vigorously. I push the sleeve of my top into my mouth, and I make a prolonged whine that joins the creek of the bench beneath me with each powerful, quick motion of his pelvis.

My eyes flutter to his and I see that mouth grunting out lustful expletives and I know I need to feel them against me. Using his arms, I pull myself back to him and Chris pulls me into an embrace, our tongues tangling for a brief moment before we break the kiss breathlessly.

“Don’t stop,” I pant, his mouth now against my neck. “Don’t you fucking stop.”

I feel a yank at my collar and sense him trying to get me naked. It’s dangerous, but so is all of this – there’s windows someone could easily look through and catch me cheating on Joel. Still I slink free of coat and top and wrap my naked form around him.

The noises I’m making are strangled as he pushes me towards release. I grip the back of his dark hair and make sure, as my orgasm takes over and crashes through my body, that my mouth is next to his ear and he can hear the gasps of breath that echo out from between my lips.

Chris moves to pull away, but this time I don’t let him. My heels dig into his thighs and I hold him tighter, and then I feel him stop his struggle to escape my clutches and instead push deep and hard into me. I’m rewarded with the feeling of thick ropes of his cum pulsing deep into my pussy and a shuddering grunt of satisfaction of my name sounding from his mouth.

I roll my hips into his and relish this closeness, every bit as intense as it had been the other day. My eyes, slammed shut while I came, open to see the windows misted with condensation and with no sign of anyone seeing us.

We pull away from one another slowly and I take a moment to gaze upon his handsome face, then down to his very clothed body. I smile and then look back to him.

“Doesn’t seem fair I’m the only naked one.” I say with a raised brow, and he chuckles softly in response.

“Good point. Maybe you should come round for coffee sometime this week and I’ll get as naked as you want?”

I bite my lower lip and press myself into him once more. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.” I purr.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/brghtf/the_former_trophy_wife_part_2_fm_cheating