1. I Am Not Your Husband


    Date: 12/2/2017, Categories: Wife / MILF, Author: Fogticus, Source: LushStories

    “How’s my sexy man tonight?” The delicate feminine voice wafted into my ear on a warm moist breath, barely audible above the unruly clamor in the pub. The speaker’s soft lips grazed my lobe as they formed the words. Soft tresses of her hair brushed the back of my neck while an unfamiliar fragrance of roses and jasmine intoxicated my senses. I could feel her ample breasts pressing snugly against my back as she wrapped her arms around my midsection in a tender embrace. Rita was feeling much better , I thought. Looks like her headache wasn’t as bad as she had expected. As I twisted my body on the barstool, turning to greet my visitor, her face was upon me in a flash, eclipsing the entirety of the tavern. When her luscious lips descended onto my mouth, I closed my eyes reflexively and accepted her advancing tongue. Her kiss was deep and passionate. Our tongues entwined and swam together fluidly like frolicking dolphins, over and under each other – out of one mouth and into the other. The kiss was so seductive in its intensity and unbridled boldness that I felt that familiar tingly exhilaration rippling beneath my skin. My cock began to swell. I was lost in the moment, consumed by the fervor of this sensuous woman’s kiss. The barroom and all of its raucous revelers disappeared from my consciousness as we kissed. Nothing else mattered except the hungry lust that surged throughout my body. I wanted to fondle my lover – squeeze the yielding flesh of her breasts, stroke the smooth ...
    contours of her ass. I raised my arm from the edge of the bar, but – as I slowly swung it toward her chest – I inadvertently knocked over my drink. Abruptly the spell was broken. My eyes sprung open as the icy Jack and Coke soaked into my pants leg. I released my lover’s tongue and broke the kiss, but she did not move away. Her face – too close for me to focus on – was framed with voluminous curls of blond hair. Blond?! Rita was a brunette. This was not Rita! I leaned backward and saw my visitor’s face clearly for the first time. It was quite an alluring visage – long sweeping lashes that fluttered over dark owlish eyes, a pert nose with a light scattering of freckles across the bridge, and succulent l ips that looked every bit as good as they had tasted. Long wavy locks of silky golden hair cascaded onto her shoulders while sculpted chestnut eyebrows told me that the carpet did not quite match the drapes – although I suspected that there was no carpet. I had never seen this beautiful seductress before. I had no idea who she was. “The Atlanta women certainly are friendly,” I smiled, attempting to hide my confusion. “Yes we are,” the blonde grinned. “And we do know what our men like.” Our men? Does she consider me her man?! Who is this girl? The local nymphomaniac who just found some new prey? A forgotten lover from my past? Someone that my friends back home are using to prank me? “I love the new haircut,” she said as she stroked my scalp with a loving touch. Haircut? It had been ...
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