I thought back. What Mike was talking about was so early in the trip. We were barely at the kissing stage of our adventure, let alone getting naked. His admission was so far from my understanding of how things had progressed, I could barely process it. When had that even happened?
“Or in Animal Kingdom,” Mike said, “When you sucked my cock behind the rocks near Everest. Fuck, Em, it felt so good. Your hungry little mouth. The way you begged for my cum. Just, uhn, gulped it all down.”
It started sinking into me, how little I actually knew about what Emily had been up to the last four days. Not just with Mike, but all those times with Jack, too…
I thought I had the shape of the story, the transition of one act to the next. I was wrong. Everything I’d told myself about our trip was a fiction. A lie. A whole other story had been going on while I was distracted with my own.
What else was Emily not telling me? What more did I not know? My mind riffled through the pages, trying to find the right passages. But the scenes I was looking for had been ripped out. Or worse, never written.
Emily responded to Mike’s revelations by leaning forward to kiss him. Clearly hinting that he should quiet. Instead, he kept rambling.
“All those times together,” Mike said, “You and me. It felt so different, you know? Like, we have this link between us. I can’t stop thinking about you. Your eyes. Your cute little smile. That hot, rocking body.” Mike playfully slapped at Emily’s backside. “Do you know what I mean?”
Emily nodded. She seemed less enthused about sharing her feelings. But I could tell by the way she was looking at Mike, there was true affection there. He wasn’t just babbling. They both felt it.
Finally, Emily spoke. “You’re special to me,” she said to Mike, warmly stroking his cheek, “You always will be. What we shared. It’ll never go away. No matter what.”
Emily had clearly given her body to Jack. But when she loved on Mike like that, it made me wonder if she’d surrendered something far more precious to him. And that itched at me. Ached. Like there was a hollow spot in my stomach. In my chest.
“You feel so fucking good, Em,” Mike said. The speed of his thrusts increased. The urgency of his movement. He started rearing upward with his hips. Like driving his long dick an extra inch.
“I know,” she whispered, kissing him.
Emily steadied herself in the saddle. Their affection degraded into something more primal. She gasped after every pump. “Oh! Ooh! AH!”
“Keep fucking me,” she said, “Like that. Grab my tits.”
Mike responded by squeezing my wife’s perky boobs. Emily threw her head back and squealed as he twisted her sensitive nipples.
“I don’t want to stop,” Mike said, “Fucking you. That tight, twisting pussy. Tell me you can quit, Em.”
“I can’t.”
The couple’s movement got wilder. The heat of their passion grew. The loving pace of their lovemaking cracked and they, truly, began to slam each other on the couch. Both of them needful. Unable to kiss because they needed that air to breathe. Unable to caress because they needed those hands to grope, grasp.
Emily bounced up and down on Mike’s dick. Her tits flopped wildly, in a way that looked painful
Mike arched his back and thrust with vigor. There was no missed stroke or unexpected slip. The two of them engaged in a singular, shared purpose of pleasure. Yet also still completely out of control.
“Tell me,” Mike said, his words coming in ragged chokes. “Tell me you can stop this.”
“I cuh-can’t,” Emily groaned, “You’re so deep inside me. Like you’re stabbing my guts. Feels so, uhn, good.”
Allison caught my attention. “It’s just dirty talk,” she said. Clearly, she got how Mike’s words might be concerning. “He doesn’t mean it.”
We shared a look, and I couldn’t tell if either of us truly believed that or if we were only accepting the lie because it was easier than the alternative. In truth, I don’t think I trusted Mike. But I felt fairly certain I could rely on Emily. Mostly.
“Oh — Oh yes. Keep. Fucking.” Emily was lost in ecstasy. Her eyes rolling back. Her backside writhed in a come-hither motion. I could tell she was milking Mike’s cock.
“You want it, Em?” Mike’s eyes grew wide. Pleading. “You want my cum inside you? Is that married pussy going squeeze my cock as I fill you with my seed?”
“I promise,” Emily said, “Please. I’ll be good. So good for you. Fill me up. Put it in deep.”
“Getting close,” Mike said.
“Pleeeeeeease,” Emily cried out, “Cum in meeeeeeeee! I want to feel it insssiiiiiiiide.”
“Aaaaauuuuuuggghhh!” Mike shouted out in triumph. He arched upwards, lifting Emily right off the couch.
My wife let out a high-pitched yelp as he burst inside her. “Oh fuck! That feels… So hot. So good.”
“Ahhhh, I’m cumming in you, Em. Take it. Take all my cum.”
“Oh God,” Emily gasped, “Ohhhhh! I feel it. So deep!”
Mike wasn’t even finished filing her before a long, thin trail of semen slipped out and spattered on the couch. The couple slowly lowered. They gripped each other, tight. Emily kissed Mike with ardor. He responded with similar passion. Both of them celebrating their shared bliss.
They stayed that way, panting. A little smirk played on Mike’s face. Emily’s hair was everywhere. She let out a little giggling sob.
Carefully, she got off Mike. Immediately, a gout of cum dripped out of her pussy and splattered on Mike’s stomach. The tall man didn’t even notice. He lay there on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. His cock shriveled and sticky on his thigh.
Emily tried to stand, but when she put weight on her one leg, it collapsed and she dropped to the ground.