Telling The Cuck

On the mantelpiece behind Paula in one of the underwear images stood an envelope. The address was indistinct but the postcode was reasonably clear. I enjoy puzzles so I searched a genealogy site for recent electoral rolls for persons matching your names. I had no intention of using the information except to perhaps send an anonymous Valentine's card to Paula next year.

A family crisis had taken me north of Glasgow. On the way back down the M74 I was idly daydreaming about Paula, specifically about having her head in my lap as I drove, and it occurred to me that once in England I would be on the M6 with motorway access to almost anywhere. I pulled off for a bite around Preston and set your postcode into the satnav. The rest of the motorway journey I passed away rehearsing the different ways my being at your door would go.

I had to park someway along the road. It was pouring down so by the time I reached your door I was soaked to the skin. Paula answered the door. She was showing ample cleavage, looking even more beautiful than in her photographs. Her smile stirred my loins. I asked for you. Paula explained you were out and wouldn't be back for a while.

Paula asked me how I knew you. I told her that our paths had crossed years back through a couple of work-related meetings and that we'd bumped into each other again in a hotel bar in Glasgow, I added that I had seen her with him there. I joked that she had obviously made far more of an impression on me than I had on her. I gambled she would think I was the guy who unbeknownst to her was wearing her knickers in Scotland. I also told her you and I had exchanged a few emails. I'd started shivering so told Paula I'd better be going before I catch pneumonia.

I said goodbye and turned to walk away. Paula, very trustingly, asked if I wanted to come in to dry off and warm up with a hot cup of coffee. She disappeared but came back moments later with a towel and an old t-shirt of yours. I pulled my shirt off, Paula held her hand out for it then tossed it in the dryer. I took a few sips of coffee before I donned the t-shirt. Your hot and very sexy wife motioned for us to sit and started asking more about me and you. She tried ringing your mobile but you were unavailable.

Lies are best when they are closest to the truth. I told Paula our intermittent emails were mainly about football but of late they had turned to the subject of our wives. She looked a bit surprised. I told her I had appreciated her kindness but perhaps I should leave. Of course, this made her all the more curious. I said that I didn't want to drop you in it, she assured me I wouldn't, that she knew your desires and wasn't ever surprised by what you did.

I told her that I had told you how very attractive I found her. She told me to continue. I told her to tell me to go if I was creeping her out. I said I had badgered you for a photo of her and that I had described how in my reply how my passion for her might manifest itself. Paula asked to see the photo, I got my phone out and showed her the one of her in the fur coat. She asked if it excited me. I told her that of course it did and added she was one of those women who exuded sensuality, instant viagra. I said the picture brought to mind the old saying 'All fur coats and nae knickers', not I hastened to add, a reflection on her but because I was imagining what was under the coat.

Paula asked me to show her the other images you had sent, coffee time was over, and we were onto the wine now. Luckily, as each of your pics arrived in the emails, I had serialized them by adding a numerical prefix so they were essentially in naughtiness order. So it was other clothes pics than some underwear pics. Paula seemed half mortified half pleased I had her sexy photos. She read my expression, it said they weren't the only pics. She asked how much of her I had seen. I replied that I'd seen as much as her doctor might have. Paula asked for my phone and flicked through all the pics. When she saw the captioned pics she smiled and commented that you must want me to have her. She tried to call you but you were unavailable again. Paula opened a second bottle of wine and after downing, most of her glass asked if I knew about Kevin. I nodded.

Now very flirty, Paula gave me a kiss, long and lingeringya que están bien ahora, creo que deberías golpearlos por lo que sea que comieron que los enfermó y luego te mintió y te dijo que no lo hicieron. It took all of my willpower not to try to rush her. She got up and said she'd be back soon. Sure enough five minutes later she re-appeared in her fur coat. She put some music on and floated about in front of me. At her behest I opened her coat to find her in a silky white camisole with matching french knickers.

I got the impression that Paula thought you had set up this encounter. That you not answering the phone was part of the plan. I didn't try to set her straight. She stood before me. Her groin was level with my face. I leant forward and inhaled the heavenly aroma of the juices of an aroused woman. I very slowly ran my left hand up Paula 's inner thigh as though my finger were climbing her leg. I rubbed the back of my other hand over the silky material of her knickers. Paula sighed as the fingers of my left hand found the wetness between her pussy lips. She dropped to her knees, unzipped me, released my cock then looked me in the eyes, smiled and lowered her mouth over it. Paula's tongue lapped at the precum leaking from me, she knew just when to stop to let me relax a moment or two...
Next page: Chapter 02
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