A Bouquet to Forget

Angela excitedly received the gorgeous arrangement of flowers from the delivery man, giving him a generous tip.  How beautiful, bigger than any bouquet Chris had ever given her.  And what a nice surprise, seeing how pre-occupied he’d become since starting up practice on his own last year.  Well, she was going to give him a homecoming he’d never forget to thank him for being so romantic.  She quickly made arrangements for the kids to have supper at a friend’s house, took a quick shower, changed into some more presentable clothes, complete with racy underthings, and congratulated herself on being ready at the entryway as she heard his battered old car pull up the drive.  Self-consciously she pulled the card from the bouquet, taking in the soft flowery fragrance as she did so, reminding herself once again how deeply she loved her sweet, thoughtful husband.  Angela opened the card, read the brief expression of undying love, and then gasped in horror as she read the signature.  Her heart nearly stopped beating and she burst into loud sobs of grief and shame.  For the name on the card was that of an old lover from years ago, not of her beloved Chris.  Hideous, horrible, wretched flowers!  She wanted to melt right into the floor to escape, but the door was already starting to open.

“Angela, what’s going on?  Are the kids alright?  Your parents?”
“Oh Chris you’re gonna be furious.  I’m so mad, so ashamed!  How did the jerk get my address?  What’s he trying to prove?  That I could have always had anything I wanted if I had just married Marvin’s rich butt when I had the chance, instead of you?”  She refused to look at her husband.

“What on earth are you talking about, sweetheart?”  He grabbed her and held her close, knowing better than to try to kiss her at this particular moment.  The sobbing got worse before it eventually got better, then finally slowed to where she was able to talk.  She somehow was able to relate the confusing mixture of rapidly changing emotions to her slightly confused husband, who slowly came to understand how deeply hurt she felt.  And while he’d completely trusted her during their courtship when she’d averred her virginity, he knew that she had turned down several smitten suitors before agreeing to marry Chris.

“I’ll go throw these ugly old weeds away now”, she choked, but she felt a firm grip on her wrist preventing her from dumping out the detestable flowers.  For a brief moment the couple stood motionless in a kind of rigid wrestling match, hearts pounding, muscles tense and twitching.  Hers because of anger and betrayal,  his because of…was it lust that she perceived across the inches between them?

In another second she had know doubt about what he was feeling.  She felt him bending her neck slowly toward himself to plant a tender kiss on her salty cheek, then working his lips lower toward her sensitive jaw line and down her neck toward the fine collarbone, lingering to lick the soft skin there.  Her sobbing turned gradually to a sigh of longing.

“No Chris, this isn’t right, let’s talk about this some more, I’m way too mad at Marvin right now for this.  Stop that!  Can’t you ever think of anything else besides…Oh Boooyy!”  While his kisses had been erotically tender, there was nothing at all tender about what she felt growing against her thigh.  In a tantalizing mind-spinning admixture of contrary sensations, her face and neck were being soothed and gently caressed by Chris’ lips and tongue, even as his rock-hard erection began dry-humping her slender body, with his own thighs clamped around her hips and his strong hands pinning her arms like some wild beast.  She became silent as if tamed like a lion before the master’s whip.

Her core melted on the spot, her knees grew weak, and her vagina was wet and aching, she subconsciously circled her pelvis against the rod of his manhood, contrary to all rational thought.  And for the first time since he walked through the door she raised her eyes to look into the face of this man who’d been the only love partner she’d ever known, and saw there the eyes of the man who’d vowed to live with her in love for the rest of her life.  And she was stilled and quickened all at once, marveling at how God had been merciful to allow her to choose the right man.

The man who was now clutching her buttocks with one hand and reaching under her skirt with the other, now ripping to shreds the lacy fabric of her panties, exposing her moist sex to the pleasantly cool air, all the while rhythmically driving his engorged shaft along the inside of her thighs. Who was licking and kissing her throat and neck and was somehow undoing the buttons of her blouse with his teeth and lips, now tracing warm wet circles on the flesh of each breast through her thin brassiere.

Her hands were now free, and her nails began to reach around and rake the skin of his back.  Her soul was spinning further and further away from herself and into this new side of her man that she’d never seen before.  As Angela swooned and melted, she was aware of both his hands on her bare bottom, lifting her off the floor, and yet somehow they’d had time to tear open her bra, where there was now a delightful biting and sucking at her nipples.  Her arms reached of their own accord around his unyielding powerful neck, and she could perceive that she was being carried someplace.  Chris’ still-clothed penis continued its ineffective assault against her womanhood.  And then the familiar melodic strains of her impending orgasm began to flow almost audibly though her mind, yet new and different, as if played by an unknown musical instrument.  And in a tempo she’d never experienced before…

She wanted to gaze into his fierce eyes once more to see if she could identify the source of these unfamiliar feelings, but as she opened her eyelids once again there was a sudden gasp from her lips as she was thrown over the edge of the bed facing away from him, knees on the carpet, her skirt bunched up around the waist, buttonless blouse open with breasts bouncing and swaying smartly between the seams, round tightness of her rear end high in the air.

And then the two flesh become one.  The swollen moist bulge of his glans probed the soft skin near the front edge of her anus–what had happened to his clothes so suddenly? — and then he was inside her, entering her sex millimeter by millimeter, agonizingly slow yet unmistakably powerful, every vein and crevice palpable though the tightening grip of her vagina, now reaching the place inside that he’d long ago found would cause her great pleasure if he rubbed it long enough with his finger, only now it was the huge head of his rigid penis that was doing the rubbing and driving, all the while his hands reaching around to twist her flaming nipples, the shockwaves trembling down her torso to her groaning womb, through the G-spot and finally reaching her twitching clitoris, which through all of this had not so much as been touched by her man, so that breasts, vagina, clitoris all exploded together in a simultaneous cacophony of crashing orgasmic cymbals.  The aftershocks reverberated through her soul, and then her eyes widened in the realization that Chris’ thickened rod was still on its way inward.

Although his hips were thrashing and rotating side to side, she could now tell that see had never yet thrusted, and this somehow gave her even more excitement.  And then at this moment she felt his hair nesting in the folds of her buttocks, his testicles swinging forward against her tender vulva, and–gasp! — the tip of the swollen penis sliding behind her womb and lodging against her cervix.  She was completely filled with her man now, feeling warm and content in her fullness and oneness with her mate, but now he was moving outward again, only now it was a little faster, and the masculine fingers left their harsh caressing of her burning nipples and clutched her hips, and then he was on his way in again, no rotating of hips this time, in and out, over and over, she could only take tiny short breaths now, getting dizzy with emotion, his body crashing deep into her own from behind, rocking her cervix with his manhood, deep undulations emanating from each side of her womb out toward her loins and down her thighs, not ready to climax just yet, thinking to herself I want to do in time with you, then feeling his hands leaving her lunging hips, one of his hands seeking and finding–finally!– her pulsating clitoris the other reaching in to place a soft but insistent finger on the exquisitely sensitive outside rim of her anus.  She gasped loudly and shuddered at this violation, he’d never touched her there before, and the different sensations in the three areas of her clitoris, deep vagina, and outside of her anus–in an unbidden instant–came together in a wrenching, jolting, searing climax different from any she’d experienced before.

And then there were the strong arms again, lifting her onto the bed, laying her gently onto her back, loving fingers removing the disheveled skirt and blouse, so she was naked now, sweet sweat beading all over her glowing skin, breathing a little more evenly now, and then there was the lover’s mouth against hers, inviting a tender deep kiss in return, tongues caressing each other, sighs escaping from parted lips, and now she looked into his eyes again and saw only deep tenderness, and his fingers lovingly touched her nipples and traced circles around them, and her thighs parted slightly and her own fingers danced around his aching, engorged, solidly thickened member, pausing for just a moment to swirl a fingertip in the drops of pre-ejaculate on the tip and bring the sweet liquid to her tongue before grasping his penis and guiding it deep into her core.  And they both gasped and groaned in tenderness and delight, and he took her tongue and lips again into love’s deepest kiss, and he moved on her and in her, and her legs locked themselves lazily around his waist, and he drove in and out, fast, then slow, sometimes with her thrusting back up at him, sometimes lying quietly, and this went on forever and ever, and he grew bigger and bigger, and her whole body felt the impending orgasm, this time in full orchestration with all the familiar instruments, impossible to tell where it started from, or even to try to tell. Now she felt him moving faster and driving harder, and then there was the little tremor coming from his taut scrotum and down his shaft so that she could feel it through the muscles in her vagina, and she knew from years of experience with her lover that he would now begin to buck and groan and convulse and shoot her core full of his seed, which is exactly what he did, she could feel the hot liquid spray against her womb, and the pent-up third orgasm took over her entire body, every muscle and every nerve and every pore, wracking them both so completely and violently that he had to pull his lips away from hers for fear of harming her.

She laid him gently to her side, just in time for him to collapse into blissful oblivion without crushing her.  And she smiled to herself as she toyed with his pubic hair, his now flaccid penis, stroking his chest without waking him.  Angela slipped noiselessly from the rumpled bed and padded silently to the entryway–semen dripping down her glistening thighs and knees still wobbly–and retrieved the source of her previous unhappiness from the small table.  The blossoms shone radiantly in their vase, and with a glow in her soul she joyfully tore up the little card into a hundred pieces and tossed them carelessly on the floor.  Her bare feet trampled the shreds as she carried the bouquet to the bedroom, where she placed it prominently on her dresser.  And as she lay down next to her sleeping lover, Angela took his soft penis-now sticky and sweet with drying sperm–gently into her mouth, sucking slowly on it as one of her drowsy infants would suckle at her breast, and out of the corner of one eye she could clearly see on her dresser the floral reminder of how great a gift she had in her own dear husband.

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