Author's note: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. If you feel offended by the subject, please skip to another story.
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Karen McAllister was furious. She had just received a phone call from the detective agency that she hired to spy upon her husband. An agent from Paris just informed her that for the last two nights a girl had been visiting her husband in his hotel's room. This night as well she was there...for more than two hours.
"Sonofabitch...!" She fumed with anger as she cut the phone. "The bastard is busy screwing a bitch on his wedding anniversary."
She lay on her bed trying to control her rage. She looked around...her expensively decorated bedroom...her master size bed. Tears swelled in her eyes. She was alone on her wedding anniversary night...alone in her bedroom while her husband was probably pumping his load into that whore.
She tossed in the bed, trying to think what went wrong between her and Phil, her husband. Theirs was a love marriage, against the wishes of their families. Almost twenty years back, Phil proposed her in the college, and she had immediately accepted it. Phil was one year senior to her, a handsome and bright student, and she knew that he would have a bright future.
They indeed had a great life...but only on the material front. Phil was obsessed with success and nothing mattered him more than soaring the ladders of success one after another, earning more and more money. He wasn't a great lover, and he never tried to be one in actual sense. He gave her everything, which money could buy; but whenever she needed him, he was busy with his targets...deadlines...board meetings and what not.
Until the birth of their only son, Jeff, their sex life was just okay...after that it became a forced routine, and then slowly almost ceased to exist.
She recalled Phil hadn't fucked her for almost for six months. She sighed, and got down from the bed...sat before her dressing table looking at her reflection in the mirror.
She knew that she was attractive...even at the age of thirty-nine. God had been kind enough to her, and she was still in a much better shape than many of her friends, even though she never tried working out. Jeff was born when she was only twenty and after that, she never got pregnant again. She often had taken pride when people remarked that she looked like an elder sister to her son.
Karen had been hearing the rumors about her husband's infidelity for the last six months, but she never believed it. She never expected that Phil could be interested in sex...the man who rarely felt aroused in presence of his gorgeous wife could fall for any other girl. However, his frequent visits to Paris raised her suspicion, and she took help of a detective agency.
Her fears turned out right.
"Fucking bastard..." She swore.
She got up from the stool, and went out of her bedroom. Her bedroom was on the first floor. Phil and Karen had purchased this two-storeyed house few years back. She redesigned the entire first floor, converting the pre-constructed small rooms into a one big bedroom that opened into a large verandah, which she converted into an open terrace garden. There was one more room on the floor, a small room attached to the bedroom, which her husband used as his study. The living room and Jeff's room were on the ground floor. There were a small number of other rooms, which were mostly locked, as her small family didn't have any use for them.
For the last six moths, one more room at the ground floor had been occupied...by her nephew Thomas or Tom; Phil's elder brother's son; who had shifted to Bergen to peruse his graduation. Tom was one year younger to her son. Karen stood in the open terrace...feeing the fresh breeze of midnight air...trying to calm her distressed mind. Very soon, she realized that the cool breeze wouldn't be able to palliate her condition. She was still infuriated with her husband...and the thought of his husband fucking some young tart while she was languishing alone in the darkened terrace enraged her...and surprisingly it made her horny too. It was simply not correct for him to be with a whore when she desperately needed his hardness between her thighs.
Karen always enjoyed sex. Yet, because of her inhibitions and a very strict upbringing she could never tell her true feelings to Phil.
She thought about her son and sighed again. Jeff, her son, had grown into a fine young man of nineteen; however, he also seemed to have inherited his father's traits...always busy with his own activities. He too didn't have any time to share with his mother. She felt terribly alone. Jeff was also out of town, visiting some nearby place with his friends.
She returned to her room...settled on the edge of her bed...trying to figure out what to do. There was no question of trying to sleep; she knew it wouldn't come.
She deliberated for some minutes, and then she got up and tiptoed across the room opening the door of adjacent room...her husband's study. It was personal room of Phil, which he used to keep his papers, his computer and other belongings, and it was here where he spent most of his time at home.
Karen had always hated this room. However, she knew what she wanted was kept in the drawers of Phil's computer table. Occasionally, when Phil felt like fulfilling his husband's duty, he would watch a porn movie with his wife, and then they would copulate to complete their rituals of being a married couple. Those CD's were kept in the drawer, and she needed one.
She unlocked and opened the drawer. She flipped through her husband's collection of porn CD's...undecided which one to choose. She had seen all of them, a fact which her husband didn't know. He might have never expected his dutiful wife watching a porn movie alone in her bedroom.
After some deliberation, she picked a CD and returned to her room...inserted the CD into the player, switched on the television and settled on the bed with remote in her hand. She adjusted the channel.
As the naked pictures began appearing on the screen, she once more thought about her husband and the whore who he might be fucking in his hotel's room at Paris. She swore again trying to overcome her frustration, and looked at the picture of a beautiful woman, simultaneously playing with two cocks. Deep inside her, she felt jealous of her.
She watched silently as the film progressed. The beautiful female protagonist was sucking one of the guys while the second guy was licking her shaved pussy. Karen grunted incoherently. She never had the pleasure to enjoy the bliss of oral sex. Phil was too prude to indulge in such activity. She tried to imagine how it would feel to suck a hard cock...or how a wet tongue would feel over her cunt lips.
She felt hornier...squeezing her thighs to stop the wetness seeping out of her pussy. She moaned lightly.
Her fingers fumbled with her nightgown...slowly puling it along her thighs. She inserted her fingers inside her panties, and dragged her panties down to her thighs, exposing her nicely trimmed hairy pussy. Her fingers touched her tender cuntlips, feeling the wetness dripping out of her horny hole. She gently played with her clit.
The actress in the film was now getting banged from both ends. One guy was pumping his rigid cock in and out of her pussy while the other one was sawing it into her sucking mouth.
Karen heart ached to feel a cock between the tender lips of her pussy. She again cursed her husband. Her frustration and horniness was overwhelming her. The movie had aggravated the itching in her cunt, and she desperately longed for a throbbing male organ sloshing through her wet hot furrow.
She closed her eyes...trying to imagine the characters of the movie present in her bedroom...doing the same thing to her instead the girl in the movie. She tried to masturbate but it didn't help...she needed a real thing. She was alone at the house...all alone in this big house...with no one to satisfy her burning desire.
Suddenly, she sat upright. She was wrong. She was not alone. Her nephew Tom was downstairs...probably studying or sleeping in his room...or probably diddling his cock.
The last thought let the blood rush though her cheeks. Truly speaking she wasn't very fond of her husband's nephew...initially. It was Phil's idea to let him stay with them. She didn't like the idea and she opposed vehemently; however, Phil persisted and she later reluctantly agreed.
It tuned out to be blessing in disguise.
Her husband and son were mostly away from home. To them home was a place where they could rest and sleep during nights, and get ready for their next days activities.
