It took her a few minutes to catch her breath and calm herself. She was exhausted from a full night of drinking and fucking. It would have been easy for her to pass out for the evening only to be found in an almost totally naked state in a few hours when the sidewalk would come alive again. With trembling legs, she pushed herself to her feet and staggered inside, leaving her torn panties on the porch and a large cumstain on the swing.
Fiona collapsed into bed, angry with herself but too exhausted to cry. She fell into a deep sleep, interrupted by an insistently ringing phone at noon the next day. It was Ted, her newly cuckolded husband, calling from the hospital.
“Hi, I thought you were coming by this morning,” he said.
“I…I’m exhausted,” she said. I must have slept through the alarm. It was the first lie but not the last.
“I’ll be released tomorrow, you’ll have to come get me,” he said. “I hate this hospital and I really wanted to spend last night with you…playing our little bed time game.”
“Look,” she said, suddenly nervous, “I’ve got some errands to run. I’ll be over in a few hours.”
“Yeah,” said Ted, “see you about 3:00 or so. Love you.”
Absentmindedly, Fiona hung up without responding. She had a terrific hangover and she was slowly realizing the enormity of what had happened between her and Gordon last night. She felt the need for a long, hot shower.
Stripping out of her clothes, she headed for the shower. She turned on the water, making it as hot and hard as possible. “Where are my panties?” she thought. “Ohmigod!” She suddenly remembered what had happened to them. Everyone in the apartment building had probably seen them already, a torn flag of absolute sexual surrender discarded on the front porch.
She dove into the shower, feeling like a common street whore; dirty and used, ashamed of the way her body had betrayed her. She accepted the stinging needles of hot water as her punishment and began to scrub her body hard as if she could wash away the sins of last night.
Fiona imagined she was rubbing the spittle of Gordon’s mouth from her breasts, mauling them with the wash cloth until they were cherry red. She scrubbed her butt just as hard, trying to wash away the sensation of his hands as they lifted her ass cheeks up and over his hard cock.
It was when she ran her hands down her belly that it happened. Unthinkable. The scrubbing she had given her ass and tits had only ignited a fire between her legs. She fell back against the shower stall as she slid the wash cloth between her legs, opening herself, not for a cleansing of Gordon’s juices but for another orgasm. She stuffed her hungry pussy with the cloth and masturbated herself. She came all too quickly, surprising herself with its intensity. She cried out again, imagining herself in Gordon’s bed with her legs wrapped around him as he used his long cock to pound her ass into submission.
In tears, now, she opened the shower door. She was a good Irish Catholic girl, married to a fine man who knew how to satisfy her. She had to go to confession, and then make sure this kind of thing never happened again.
The red light on the answering machine was blinking. Wrapping a towel around her body she punched the play button. It was Gordon.
“Hey, my sweet baby. Just wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed EVERYTHING last night.” He said. “I know you have to visit Ted today but I want you to come over for a repeat performance before you go. There are some things I want to do to that sweet ass of yours that I couldn’t do on the porch last night.”
Then his voice got harsher. “It’s 12:30 right now. I expect you to be here by 1:00. I’ll leave the door unlocked. Do
not
disappoint me.”