“Abbey… Abbey… We can’t keep doing this,” I said. I’m doing my absolute best to sound convincing, but that’s nearly impossible to do when I have to pause every second or two to moan with pleasure. We’re in my SUV. My seat is pushed back as far as it will go, and reclined as far back as it can get. You’re in the passenger seat… sort of. It’s more like your knees are in the passenger seat while you lean over the center console and give me the most amazing blow job I’ve ever had. Of course, I think that about EVERY blow job you give me. There’s certainly no shortage of those with you. “Abbey, we REALLY need to stop this.”
I knew you weren’t going to stop. Deep down, I didn’t want you to, in that “carnal desire” sense of it. Every time I tried to say that we should stop, you moaned a little bit louder, or hummed a little as you went full deep throat on me. This time, it was a little of both as you grabbed my hand and directed it over your ass, pulled your skirt up, and had me start fingering you. You knew EXACTLY what I said, how to make me trail off mid-sentence, and lose all sense of regret for a split second as I processed what you were doing to me. I have ZERO idea how you had that talent, but FUCK, you were good at it.
My apparent guilt was a turn-on for you. THAT much was obvious. If it weren’t obvious enough, you jacked the intensity of it when you lifted your head and stopped sucking for juuust long enough to grab my left hand, then stick my RING FINGER in your mouth, and slide my ring off on your way back up. I started to protest, like you had gone too far, but you immediately put my left hand on the back of your head, pushing your own down to deep throat me again. It’s pretty fucked up for you to be giving me head with my own wedding ring in your mouth as you do it. I won’t admit to myself how much hotter that makes it.
I’m not going to lie, though, it felt amazing. Probably even more so, now that you have a “toy” at your disposal. It amazes me how you ALWAYS cum at the same time as I do, even if I don’t give you any warning before hand. It’s like you just… put yourself in sync with me somehow. Not that I’m complaining about that bit, mind you. The intensity of your moaning just makes my orgasm even stronger. You, um… never left any evidence, either.
You leaned up, licking your lips, giving a sarcastic “smack” sound, and said “I’m sorry J,” you called me J instead of Jonathan, knowing full well I would never get used to that. I’m FAR too old to have a nickname that young. At 41, I was 17 years your senior. You’re young enough to be my daughter. Hell, you’re young enough to be my daughter’s younger sister. Mine was off in her senior year in college. “What was it you said? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of this clacking against my teeth,” you joked and gave me a sly smile as you held my left hand up and slid my ring back on. I would almost swear you were a half-step from “evil” as you feigned innocence with a cute, pouty expression.
“You know damn good and well what I said, Abbey. We… I… can’t keep doing this! We’ll get caught eventually, and my marriage will be OVER. You know that. I’m not even going to question why someone as young,” and quite frankly, stunningly beautiful, “as you are even REMOTELY attracted to me. Most women your age see me as an ancient relic, but that’s hardly my point here.”
You lightly licked up my neck and bit my earlobe. Christ allmighty, you knew EXACTLY where and how to push all of my buttons to get me going. “I like older men. You know that. I like married men. You know that, too. And I LOVE older, married men. I believe I’ve made that much obvious by now. And, GOSH, I do ALL the things that SHE won’t.”
I tried not to show my attraction, but we could both feel my hand gripping your hip just a little tighter when you said that. I saw your eyes narrow and your smile widen. You leaned in like you were going to kiss me, then pulled back, “we’ll have to chat later, mister,” playful or not, I hated it when you called me that, but we both knew I wouldn’t try to make you stop saying it. “I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch. Same place. Don’t keep me waiting,” and you slid out of the passenger door as if you were never there at all.
I put my hands on my forehead, took a deep breathe, and exhaled a loud, exaggerated sigh. I jumped and nearly swore when you rapped a single knuckle on the driver’s side window. I rolled it down. You reached in, grabbed my dick, and put it back in my pants and zipped them back up. “Pretty sure your wife would ask more than one question if she came out to find you leaned back with your cock out. She wouldn’t be as ‘receptive’ as I am, either.” Then you winked and smiled at me as you got into your car, parked next to mine. I watched as you drove away. Just as your car was exiting the parking garage, the passenger door popped open and my wife climbed in, showing off her freshly manicured nails. She leaned over and gave me a quick peck of a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for waiting for me while I got my nails done,” you said.
I only paused for a second, not wanting to seem too out of it. “No problem. Let’s go find some dinner.” I tried not to sound disappointed or disgusted with myself as I started the SUV and backed out from our spot. “Are you okay? You seem… distracted,” she said as she looked at me. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. I guess I dozed off for a minute before you got back to the car. I’m still a little out of it. I’ll be fine once we start rolling.”
Sure, that was a passable excuse, and you bought it, but I had to force myself to not sigh with relief as I quickly double-checked to make sure my ring was back on my finger. I hated myself for it, but I was REALLY looking forward to seeing what you had in store for tomorrow.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/juxehg/abbey_part_1_mf_cheating