The parental dynamic

PART 1:

Anna laid there. It wasn’t something she hadn’t heard before, but her reaction was always the same. Initially, uncertainty. Was it them again? Was it the pipes? Who knows. All she knew is that after 30 seconds of ignoring it, her ear inevitably ended up against the wall.

Kneeling against the cold paint, her flushed cheeks pressed into the masonry…trying to make sure she wasn’t imagining it. But the slow thudding of wood against wall started soon enough. The squeaking mattress and breathiness began and it wasn’t long until the muffled moans of her mother could be heard.

Anna’s long auburn hair brushed against her aroused nipples and she allowed herself to touch the outer fabric of her panties. She felt the burning heat of shame and hunger as she listened carefully to her mother try and suppress her own pleasure. Anna’s wet fingers circles her clitoris as she her father pick up the pace; as the thudding grew louder and faster and Anna’s mother pronounced through a pillow that she “almost there” and that she wanted it “harder”. Of course, as he always did, her father obliged. Anna felt her urges growing, and pressed her fingers inside herself – Hearing the slapping of skin-on-skin made Anna feel alive, and her mother’s eventual orgasm push Anna over the edge. Her fingers explored inside her and her palm pressed against her clit, causing her hips to twitch and a breathy and suppressed orgasm to escape from her lips. Her hips jerked and quivered against her hand as she came, and her father grunted shortly after she stopped.

Happy Election Day! [oral] [votes for women]

It was finally here. The big day. Months of tireless campaigning, innumerable nights on the doorstep canvassing for votes; all of this had come to a climax today. Election Day.

Jenni was a 20-something mother-of-two. Her pale skin was freckled, which when paired with her natural flame-infused red hair gave away her Celtic roots. Her green eyes flickered with vivacity, and she knew how to use them. She was engaging. And if her eyes didn’t grab the attention of those around her, her perky breasts certainly did.

Above all though, Jenni cared deeply about politics. She was passionate about helping her community, and she knew that the constituency she lived in was super close. Every vote mattered.

It was approaching noon, and Jenni was already feeling excited. She felt like there was a change happening across the community. She knew that she was making a difference.

“Excuse me, sir, have you voted yet?”

Her white teeth were displayed between her deep red lips. Her smile was a weapon in her arsenal that she knew how to deploy. He looked at her, blinking.

“Errrm…n…not yet. I haven’t decided.”

The forgiving husband [cuckold] [guilt]

So what I’m about to say may sound a bit sordid. Forgive me if it’s not something you like. But I need to say it.

I would love to have you in front of your husband. Yes; I know it’s wrong. I know you would feel bad. After all, you made vows. You’re a good person deep down, and you would want to upset him. Would he realise how much you’d love it? When you got on your knees and took me in your mouth, would he hear the way you moan and think ‘she doesn’t do that when she sucks me’? What would he do with his hands as I went down on you? Should he touch himself? Why would he take pleasure in watching you orgasm in a way he just couldn’t?

It would be a bit weird for him when I insisted on you bending over the sofa. When I took my long, luscious cock and just rested it against your pussy lips. When you look over at him with that apologetic look…with resignation and excitement. And when I started to slowly thrust into you, would he notice how stretched you are? Would he notice the way your hands move against the upholstery? Would he recognise the moans you give out? I’m just not sure…

A lunchtime affair [work] [affair]

*11:54…11:56…12:04*

I stare at my screen again. “What the fuck is this guy talking about?” But before I can get to the bottom of another infuriating email from a customer, my mind wanders again to the text message you sent me earlier.

**I’ll meet you at the usual spot. I only have a short lunch break today because I have a meeting at 13:00. I go on lunch at 12:30. See you ;)**

The wink emoji made my tongue press against my cheek, and my heart thuds in my chest as I recalled the last encounter. My wife had questioned why I was late home; why I seemed so…happy? The affair had been going on for about 5 months and it had been the most exciting 5 months of my life. I can’t quite place my finger on when it went from innocent friendship to fierce love-making. I don’t know when I should have begun to feel guilty. When I’d crossed the line. Was it the flirty glances in the office? The brushes in the corridors? The ‘innocent’ texts asking how things were at home. The probing questions (“so, what *is* your favourite position?). Or the daring first selfie you sent me, showing more than your boyfriend would want me to see. By then, I was already intoxicated.