Chance Encounters Ch 01

When the phone rings, I am hesitant to pick it up, letting it ring five times before I find the receiver in my hand. On the other end, the same quiet breathing echoes in my ear before the familiar voice whispers, "Tonight." Then ... the click on the other end and the hum of a dead phone. I close my eyes, holding the receiver intimately, lulled by the constant buzz.

Upon opening my eyes, my head turns on the pillow to look at the time. It is only a few minutes after midnight and my husband sleeps soundly beside me. I slip in closer to him and press my clothed breasts to his back, rubbing them back and forth against his skin as I cozy into him. I can hear his breathing change, hear the airy moan as he stirs--it emboldens me to slide my hand between his legs, pushing my thumb against his anus while my fingers stretch across his scrotum. I knead his testes, placing kisses along his shoulder blades. He moans again, though I'm fairly sure he still sleeps.

My hand creeps along his hip and around to his member. It is soft and pliant in my grip, jumping briefly as a spark of heat and energy passes through my fingers. With another pleasurable groan, he leans into my swelling breasts. I persuasively begin to stoke his cock, feeling it grow and thicken in my grasp.

I whisper between the nibbling at his shoulder, "Make love to me."

He responds, cupping his hand over mine, "Chance ..."

I apply rough pressure onto his cock, my fingers curling around it, the tips digging into the soft, heavy sac underneath. Again, he whispers, "Chance ..." and eases my needful manipulation. He slinks away though I struggle to keep the closeness. Finally I relent, and he lays upon his back, twisting his neck to kiss my forehead: "I have to work in the morning, baby."

I raise from my side and straddle his hips, paying no mind to his comment; using the moment to pull the t-shirt I am wearing over my head. When my heaving breasts are freed, I close my eyes and start to ride him chastely. My hand strokes his member with a revived sense of urgency. My knuckles graze my sex that is already hot and slick with wanton desire. His hands cup my bosom, pinch the nipples that harden at the touch. I drag the head of his cock to my awakened, budding sex. I am tight but willing---waiting for him to force himself entirely within me. He prolongs his thrust, only making me want him more. Finally, I feel him enter, filling my emptiness and sending shivers along my spine. He sits up, wrapping his arms around my back and positioning his hands over my shoulders. I note that his hands feel unfamiliar; rough, large, and skilled. They find focus and push me violently down into his hips. His mouth is electric, hot on my neck. It also feels different, fuller. My eyes remain closed but I sense that my husband is not my husband, The thought peaks my lust for the unknown and I grind against him fiercely; I am on the verge. My body tingles with lascivious desire, heightened further when a masculine voice whispers into my ear, capturing the lobe between biting teeth, "Tonight."

When I open my eyes, my husband's hands are on my hips, lifting me off his lap, "I'm serious, Chance, I have to sleep."

Crawling off his lap, I sit cross-legged on the bed and watch him silently while he turns his back to me. I extend my hand to touch him but he shrugs it off. Upset, I get off the bed in a huff and cross the floor to the dresser. Kneeling, I open the last drawer and I find the vibrator I'd been hiding underneath my lingerie and disappear into the bathroom.

I sit on the edge of the tub, waiting for the bath water to heat up, and begin to fondle a breast. My hand is wet from testing the tepid water, and I use the dampness to pert my nipple, rolling it between my fingers. I step into the tub and lower myself into it. The shock of the cold porcelain against my back and the warm water enveloping my legs and abdomen send a ripple of pleasure though me. My sex throbs. Alone, I fuck myself, working the vibrator quickly in and out of my aching sex and over my clit. I moan and swear loudly, unafraid of my husband hearing. I imagine being watched by the mysterious man whose voice haunts my dreams.