Sex in the Country (Adultery, anal), a short story by KiwiDreamer. Date added: 2012-07-18. Times viewed: 5683.
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- Intro: The banker's new wife who shoots bunnies commits adultery to set up a lusty affair.
Bank executive Jeff Heston arrived home in a foul temper and felt like kicking his new wife who greeted him cheerfully. Bitch thought Jeff. He’d come home wanting sympathy.
“Don’t smile at me,” he ordered.
Desiree lost her smile and retorted, “Talk uncivilly like that to me and you’re likely to get as ass-load of birdshot.”
Yeah well she had her own gun cabinet and wouldn’t give him a duplicate key because he’d refused to give her a key to his cabinet. And so off she went and bought a gun cabinet for herself twice as fancy as his with a digital keypad and an internal locking safe that cost £498 of his fucking money plus another sixty quid for a guy to come out and internally affix it securely to the concrete cellar wall and floor!
He explained the reason for his foul mood.
“I lost my case in Court today.”
“What, one of your clients had sued you for malpractice?”
The banker managed a smile. Well one of the reasons why he married her was she was a rare woman with humour and could stomach a filthy joke providing it was clever or what she called witty.
“I tried to have Judge Mitchell declare that long-haired resident on our land an illegal land occupier.”
“Who Mr Sampson?”
“Who else?”
“But why?”
“Because I don’t like neighbours that close.”
“But in Penzance where I first met you, you had neighbours against you on both sides, at the rear and on the floor above you?”
“Yes but that was urban living, and out here is country living and supposedly free of fucking neighbours breathing down your backside.”
She looked at him thoughtfully, making Jeff nervous and he asked why she was staring.
“A cat can look at a king?”
He waited, knowing elucidation would follow. God she was such a cheeky bitch.
She said, “Your comment of breathing down your backside. You’re not turning gay are you? That was scarcely a manly comment.”
“Not I’m not. Why do you think I married you after being a bachelor for thirty-even years?”
“It was because no other female was crazy enough to say yes.”
He laughed, thinking gawd she was funny, and lunged and grabbed her around the ass and she squealed.
“I’ve oozed on to the Persian rug,” she said nine minutes later.
“That’s why the Persians made rugs in dark colours, to conceal stains.”
She actually laughed at his joke, and he felt, well, rather manly.
Meanwhile Desiree wondered was she doomed to never have romantic sex. She’d dreamed about it since she was fourteen and she was now twenty-eight and it had never happened for her. With Jeff as with other men she’d been with, they equated sex to rutting and were more or less all the same and the process went something like this:
“It’s in, ready?”
Puff.
Huff, puff.
“God you’re tight.”
“Oooh, ooooooooooh.
Over.
“Was that good darling?”
Darling of course would be near-speechless, thinking it was over before she really got started.
Well Desiree’s mom had warned her men were mostly filled with self-importance and crap and their idea of sex was to squirt some semen.
God, though Desiree. Why hadn’t her mom tried to get her to accept that brilliant piece of perceptive and factual information?
Desiree sponged up most of the drying body fluids and said to her unromantic husband, “You do want to come and shoot the brains out of poor defenceless bunnies?”
“God yes,” he said, showing his teeth.
They often went out near dusk with their CZ 453 .22 rifles with scopes and sound moderators instead of their shotguns to head-shoot two rabbits for their two dogs.
Jeff of course was keen enough to kill every rabbit within 100 miles excluding towns and villages perhaps, but Desiree made him skin the rabbits before feeding them to the dogs to avoid having the dogs coughing up fur inside the house and that controlled his killing lust. Because of that, Jeff was content to kill one rabbit and yes kill his wife’s one as well if he could get fatal shots away before she carefully targeted her shot. Of course if she got the first kill Jeff would whine, “Don’t you dare shoot my rabbit, I have to kill something.”
After dinner Desiree sent Jeff out to hose down the dogs and make sure they shook themselves before he let them into their draughty 250-year old house.
They went to bed and fucked and ten minutes later she was reading and waiting for him to begin snoring.
Later Desiree went to the bathroom that until they purchased the house had been milady’s dressing room. But Desiree hadn’t been keen about walking down the stairs and out to the back to the toilet, and also she wished to undress in the bedroom to ensure her husband saw her bare ass or tits to remind him of his manly duty.
After she climbed back in bed, a little disappointed knowing Jeff’s dick would remain deflated until his nature inspired morning erection at sun rise, she said to her drowsy husband, “When you began complaining about Mr Sampson I checked with him and he said he’d inherited clear title to his quarter-acre property. I told you that and so why didn’t you accept that?”
Jeff yawned and said pompously, “Because I’m a banker and bankers are careful by the nature of their job. I decided to have that title submitted to a judicial review.”
“So you pulled that poor man through the Court to suffer public humiliation?”
“Yes but it backfired. He spent much of the time grinning at me and when Judge Heston gave his decision that ape laughed at me.”
“Gosh it must be unusual for a judge to laugh at an unsuccessful plaintiff,” Desiree giggled.
“No you silly bitch. I meant Sampson was laughing at me.”
“Oh and don’t you get it, that Sampson knew he’d win before the hearing commenced?”
The giggling bitch pulled one of the hair’s protruding from her husband’s ass and he yelled ‘Christ’ and the dogs in the kitchen started barking and sleepy Jeff had to pad off downstairs and tell the buggers to shut up or he’d kick them into submission.
Next morning Desiree wrote her weekly women’s magazine column under the non de plume of ‘Country Life with Dee Dee’ and it was a thoughtful piece, bolstered with some web research, on why dogs barked. She then saddled her horse Milly pre-lunch and rode for her daily constitutional. When she reached the offending house Mr Sampson waved to her and instead of just waving she rode up to the fence.
“Good morning Mr Sampson.”
He said good morning Mrs Heston and asked would she like some freshly dug potatoes.
“Yes but first I have an apology to make.”
“About your arrogant husband I assume. Oh don’t worry about it. I dismissed it, thinking he’d such as asshole.”
Desiree giggled.
“God you are female and yet appreciate humour?”
“Yes”, well it wasn’t 100% abusiveness because you smiled when you said it.”
“Look come in for a pre-lunch wine Desiree.”
“Oh so after four-months we are progressing our wafer-thin relationship to a puffed-up one by the use of first names Tony?”
“Yes.”
“And can my horse come too?”
“Yes but dismount as you come through the door because it’s a bit low.”
“Actually Milly would prefer swishing flies and standing outside.”
“As you wish.”
“Um would you really have let me take her inside?”
“Yes but then I would have paddled that lovely arse of yours for being inconsiderate.”
“Oooh Tony, have you been watching my arse when I ride by?”
“Yes and thinking all sorts of disgusting things.”
“You terrible and horrid man. I’ve wondered why my arse cheeks occasionally feel they’ve been parted by the dirty hands of a man who’s been gardening or painting one of his paintings of country life that sell for obscene prices.”
“You should be writing a novel Desiree. You have a wickedness that could come alive instead of that crap you write in Country Women.”
“I have no idea of what you are talking about,” Desiree said dismounting.
“ Country Life with Dee Dee has your fingerprints all over it, written by a former newspaper reporter with professionally trained skills of observation but the column indicates a former city girl gone country, although you made that clear in your first column headed, ‘How to Feel Sexy Walking in Muck.’
“Was the column credible?”
“Surprisingly, it was. I now mince my arse when I walk in mud.”
They laughed.
It was a lovely lunch and Desiree was satisfied, having seen him glance at her breasts four times. On that last occasion she stumped the rough and ready guy when she said, making good eye contact, “Do they appeal to you” and he lost his confidence and looked out the window and said, “The breeze is increasing in strength.”
She was disappointed and left minutes later.
Tony Sampson called next morning and asked for Mrs Heston.
“She is speaking.”
“Is that grammatically correct?”
“Oh so you’d prefer I is speaking?”
“Touché.”
Desiree said, “Why are you calling after 9:00 when you know my husband has gone to work or don’t you know that he works professionally?”
“I see him drive by most mornings at 8:20. I know when he’s coming because I see the rabbits dive for cover.”
She laughed and said, “Careful you could be an interesting person.”
He said he was calling to apologize for losing the plot at lunch yesterday when she challenged him.
“Yes I admit admiring your tits or do you with me to call them breasts?”
“Tits or breasts but never boobs.”
Desiree wondered was that a theme for a Country Life article: ‘Udders or Boobs?’ No that might be considered too abhorrent for the more genteel readers.
“I apologize.”
“Don’t apologize for that because I’m flattered you felt they were worth several glances. What you should apologize for is not being upfront about your fetish.”
“My fetish?” but she offered no elucidation.
He sighed and said perhaps he was over focused on a particular part of women instead of their brain.”
“Well you can’t see their brain can you?”
He ignored that and almost knocked her for a six by asking, “Are your nipples large?”
She covered her shock by asking, “Are we having phone sex?”
“How is it that I called] with the sole intention of making an apology and now am being accused of initiation phone sex?”
“It’s the dynamics of conversation I suppose. Would you like to pop over and examine my nipples?”
“When?”
“Now.”
“No you are the instigator. Walk over here now. Do you have condoms?”
She sighed and said she never wore them.
He sighed and cut the call and Desiree astonished him when ten minutes later he saw her riding across the field to his gate on a 4-wheel drive farm bike.
“Hi,” he said in his best neighbourly voice. “I really wasn’t expecting you.”
“Hi,” she said, switching off the motor and said, “Let’s do it right now before we get cold feet.”
“I have a wife somewhere.”
“Well it would be adultery even if you hadn’t told me that.”
“I know but I felt it honourable to tell you before we start anything.”
“May we get on with it?”
Tony led her inside by the hand and she stopped just beyond the entry to kick off her yellow willies (gumboots) and shed her overcoat.
He stood, looking a little uncertain and said, “What now?”
She brushed past him and in the kitchen standing in front of the fireplace that heated the kettle and hot water for the cottage, Desiree removed her pullover and turned for him to undo the bra.
“Wow, you are serious about this.”
“Yes. How is your erection going?”
He fumbled and her bra fell forward and she removed it and turned and gave him a full frontal.
“Omigod, you have magnificent breasts and the nipples!”
“Suck!”
He obeyed and slobbered over them.
She didn’t mind that because that indicated he was juicy and it suggested he would have at least a half-decent sperm ejaculation to rub into her tits. She wondered if other females thought like that or just thought being left messy with sperm was a downside to recreational sex?
Tony worried her fattening nipple and she combed a hand through his fair hair and said encouragingly, “Good boy. Bite it gently if you wish.”
She almost jumped when he bit almost to the limit of her pain endurance.
“If you bite too hard think what I might do when I go down on your cock?”
He immediately throttled back on the biting, converting the effort into delightful nibbling that generated delicious feelings within her.
Desiree slipped a hand under her short skirt and felt dampness on the crotch and she smiled, confirming she was indeed ready.
Pulling out his erection and placing its warmth between her tits, Tony said: “I thought it would take weeks of careful relationship building before I managed to place myself in this position with you.”
She smiled and squeezing her mounds over his length after drooling over it, she replied: “All good things come faster to those who don’t wait.”
He laughed and enjoyed the friction while wondering what would come next.
At little later, when Tony was really heating up and turning red-faced, she said: “Here is a condom and lube; I feel like taking it up the arse today.”
Tony rolled on the sheath, his tongue hanging out indicating his excitement. The last time he’d had anal sex was a distance memory and she was already working her anus for him.
As the helmet of his protected cock touched the lubed hole he lost it and blew.
“Oh dear,” she said. “I over-excited you.”
“Yes,” he croaked in shame.
“Never mind we are more or less learners with each other coming together like this. Work your fingers of one hand into my pussy and catch a swinging tit and play with it until you feel you’re ready to continue effectively.”
“It’s okay, I’m ready to continue right now,” he said, making his voice deeply masculine.
“Oh good boy. Work the tip beyond the tight band Tony and then ram it in. My arse is well-used to meaty invasion.”
Tony completed manfully, to his satisfaction, and he was delighted she got herself off with her fingers in a timely fashion.
“We’ll get better at it over time,” she assured him. “Put on a fresh sheath and I’ll ride cowgirl.”
“Coffee?” he panted.
“Oh yes if you’d like a break. You have a big cock and are muscular Tony. You are a great find for me,” Desiree cooed, wondering if the editor would accept an article, ‘My First Affair in the Country’ and allow her to report to readers at the end of each regular column how the affair was progressing and detail the experimentations.
“So there are likely to be future occasions?” he said, making her frown as she watched him remove the sheath and then wipe his dick on her soft bra.
“Oh yes,” she said, re-pinning her hair back. “I’m thinking of dropping over each weekday morning, well if you can keep up with that pace.”
“I’m sure I can with your assistance,” he replied, craftily placing some of the responsibility for his endurance on her.
(((The End)))
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