Breaking Out - Part One of Two

Atlas

“I can’t believe your hubby went to Germany without you,” Andrea’s friend Diane said.

The two of them were sitting in the college student union where they’d just attended an evening art class together. “He most definitely did,” Andrea assures her. “His plane left last night. A business trip he said would last three weeks.”

“Business trip or not, he should have taken you with him.”

That very thought had passed through her mind when Bill first told her of his upcoming “business trip.”

Diane frowned. “Is that cute little secretary of his going with?”

Andrea’s stomach roiled. “She is.”

“Sounds fishy to me.”

“And to me.”

“Do you think they’re—you know?”

“Think hell. I’m sure of it.”

“So? What are you going to do about it?” she asked, gazing around the room at the room full of young college studs here in the room. “I know what I’d do if I were you.”

“And what is that?”

Bouncing her eyebrows, she says, “You know what they say about what’s good for the goose... I mean, look around the room at all this eye candy, and you have three weeks on your own, unsupervised.”

Looking around, Andrea laughs. “This ‘eye candy’ of yours is like, half my age.”

“You say that is if it’s a bad thing.” Winking, she adds, “Do me a favor and at least give it some thought.”

Andrea’s gaze flits from one young hard body to the next, pondering what it would be like to stray from her marriage bed with one of these young studs. Stray—like she suspected her husband was doing. “Nope. No way. It offends my moral compass. Let’s drink up and head home.”

As they were leaving the building, Diane paused at a bulletin board in the exit hall long enough to tear off a strip of paper that someone had pinned there. “What’s that?” Andrea asked, watching her friend tuck it into her pocket.

Winking, Diane simply said, “It’s a surprise. I’ll stop by in the morning and show it to you,” she offered, acting mysteriously.

That night, Andrea lay tossing and turning in bed, worries of her husband’s infidelity keeping her awake. Was the bastard porking his secretary, as she suspected? If he was, maybe Diane had the right of things. Maybe she ought to experiment with alternatives, too.
Her mind drifts back to the young studs she’d seen in the college cafeteria. What would it be like to seduce one of them? Better yet, let one seduce her.

Reaching inside her pajamas, she rubs her sweet parts, imagining some young buck taking her some place private to put the make on her, cajoling her into doing unthinkable deeds—like happened so often back in her dating days. She’d, of course, resist at first. But inevitably her submissive inner self would come to the fore. Personal history bore out that it always did. That mysterious inner self always emerged, tearing down her will, making it nigh on to impossible to resist a guy’s demands, whatever they might be. With him being the seducer, and she the seduced, whatever happened after that would be his doing, not hers.

Pinching her eyes shut, she thrums her clitoris, imagining herself surrendering herself to some guy’s every demand? Subjugating her will to his. Giving in to his lewd demands, irrespective of they might be, like happened so many times back in her dating days before she met Bill. Gawd! What would it be like to let some guy have his way with her again? Few things were sexier.

Closing her eyes, she envisioned herself with some young stud, resisting his advances at first, only to ultimately give in to his basest desires. Which, were she truly honest with herself, were hers as well.

Rubbing her finger up and down her clitoris, she let this oft repeated fantasy take her to Nirvana, the resulting orgasm drenching her probing finger with love juices. Gawd, it was great! She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cum this hard.

As promised, Diane showed up the following morning, sporting a Cheshire grin. “What?” Andrea asked. “What’s with the knowing look?”

“You’ll see.” She checked her watch. “Very soon.”

Half an hour later, her doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” Diane insisted, rushing to the door. From where Andrea was sitting, she couldn’t see who was there. Until Diane stepped back, out of the way. OMG. The prettiest man she’d seen in ages stepped inside. “Meet my surprise. His name is Atlas.” Atlas? The perfect name for this muscle-bound hunk. “He’s here to clean your swimming pool.”

“Great! It needs it. But why would he do that?”

“Remember that slip of paper I took from the bulletin yesterday? Delta Beta Phi—his fraternity, has started up a ‘good deeds’ reach out program. For a modest contribution, I’ve purchased three pool cleanings, one for each week that Bill is out of town. Atlas is here to do the first.”

“Glad to meet you, Mrs. Jaimeson,” Atlas says, offering his hand.

“Please call me Andrea,” she responds, shaking it.

“A pleasure to meet you by whatever name. Now… where’s this pool in need of cleaning?”

Reaching into the tote bag she was carrying; Diane pulled out a bathing suit. One very skimpy bikini. “Put yours on, too,” she whispers, “so we can sit out there and watch this adonis do his thing.”

Five minutes later, they’re sitting side-by-side by the pool, watching Atlas take the vacuum out of the shed, insert one end into the drain hole, turn it on, and begin sucking up the mud spots off the pool’s bottom.

Dressed in a swim suit, thongs, with an unbuttoned shirt, he’d come prepared for his task. “Have you ever seen a more delicious looking stud than that?” Diane whispers. Andrea had not. “Look at his package. How’d you like to wrap your lips around that thing?”

“Diane! What a thing to say! You’re terrible.”

But despite the cheekiness of her friend’s brazen remark, staring at the object of their mutual attention, Andrea had to agree. Her mind flashed back to her erotic fantasy of the night before as she envisioned Atlas forcing that piece of man-meat into her mouth, demanding that she suck it. The erotic vision has her squeezing her thighs together.

More lewd asides are discussed as they watched the young man complete his anointed task. Done, claiming to have gotten unbearably sweaty, he asks if it’s OK to take a dip. After a ‘Have at it,’ he jumps into the pool and begins swimming lengths. Given that the pool is only 50 feet long, he winds up doing several laps before muscling himself out of water to sit at the pool’s edge, his oh-so-wet bathing suit clinging to his manhood, leaving little to the imagination.

“Come on,” Diane urges. “Let’s join him!” Slipping into the water, she makes a beeline to where he’s sitting, and stands waist deep in front of him. Andrea follows, albeit far more cautiously. “Mm-m,” Diane coos, rubbing her hand along his muscled arm. “Aren’t you the pretty one?”

“You’re not so shabby yourself.” Placing his hand on her shoulders, he eases his hands down her arms, making no bones of the fact he was checking out her barely covered tits. “It hardly seems fair that you get to see my bare chest, yet I don’t get to see yours.”

Gawd. He was putting the make on Diane right in front of her. And she’s doing the same. Crinkling her nose, Diane said, “What are you going to do about it?” she challenged.

Then, to Andrea’s astonishment, while grinning ear-to-ear, he jerked down her halter top, exposing Diane’s tits.

Instead of being shocked or offended, she asks, “Well? What think? Do you like?”

Andrea isn’t sure if she was more shocked, or excited, by the scene unfolding before her. She can’t believe how slutty her friend is behaving. Nor could she believe how watching her friend’s slutty behavior was turning her on.

“I’m a very tactile sort of guy,” Atlas answered. “The kind who needs to feel something to make a definitive evaluation of its value.”

“Perhaps you should cop a feel and see if you like them,” she coos, dragging one of Atlas’s hands to her nipple.

Holy shit, Andrea thinks, squeezing her thighs together as she imagines Atlas doing that to her.

“So fine,” he says, biting his lower lip.

“Does that mean you like them?” she asks.

“Oh, yeah,” he says, bringing his other hand into the action, pinching her nipples between thumbs and forefingers.

Diane looks down at the bulge that’s appeared in the front of his bathing suit. “Whereas you’re tactile, I’m visual. I need to see something first hand in order to appreciate it,” she says, pulling his swim suit down his thighs, exposing one very turgid erection.

Andrea licks her lips, reveling in the scene transpiring in front of her. Even limp, Atlas is one hung dude.

“Come here and check this thing out, Andrea,” she urges, looking back over her shoulder.

With her blood already boiling, she needn’t be asked twice. Within seconds, she’s standing beside her friend, gawking at Atlas’ tool.

Pulling his swim suit down and off his legs, Diane tosses it poolside. Wrapping her fingers around his dong, she begins pumping it, watching it increase in size as it hardens. “I need me a taste of this,” she finally says, bending down and gobbling it into her mouth.

Andrea nearly creams her pants, watching her friend’s head bob up and down on that oversized tool. After a bit, she backs away. Waving Andrea over, she says, “Come have a taste.”

“No way!” she responds, desperately fighting the desire to do precisely what her friend is urging. “I’m a married woman.”

“Bullshit,” Diane countered. “That little secretary of his probably has your hubby’s cock in her mouth as we speak. Now do it!” she demands, placing a hand on the back of Andrea’s head and pushing it down to Atlas’ cock.

Despite the fact it was a woman making demands of her instead of a man, Andrea feels her long suppressed need to submit to sexual commands wash over her. There was no hint of hesitation in her as her lips encompass Atlas’ throbbing manhood.

“That’s it!” a delighted Diane encourages. “Suck that cock! Get it so excited that he cums in your mouth, like hubby’s likely doing some place in Germany right now.

Somehow Diane had turned things around, turning her into an aggressor instead of the other way around. Making her the one hungrily craving sex. Had this been her plan all along?

“Tell her to suck your cock, Atlas. She loves it when guys make lurid demands of her. She turns into willing putty when that happens. Talk dirty to her. Tell her what you want. No, demand what you want.”

Gawd! Diane is humiliating her. But then, her friend knew all too well her back-in-the-day behavior, well aware she was your classical submissive. Someone who, once aroused, would submit to any sexual demand made of her. It was her life’s burden and its joy at the same time.

Taking Diane’s advice to heart, Atlas says, “Suck it, Mrs. Jaimeson. Suck my cock. Make it feel good.”

He’d called her Mrs. Jaimeson, not Andrea, driving home the fact that it was a married woman responding to his lewd requests. Being called ‘Mrs. Jaimeson’ somehow made what she was doing more demeaning. Added to its sense of debasement. And most importantly, making it more exciting.

“Let’s get these out of the way,” Diane says, pulling Atlas’ bathing suit down and off his legs. “There you go, hot cock à la carte.” She looks up at Atlas. “Talk dirty to her. Tell her what you want her to do to you in the lewdest terms possible.”

Placing a hand on either side of Andrea’s head, Atlas starts thrusting in and out of her mouth. “Fuck, yeah baby,” he groans. “Mm-m, that’s it, bitch. Get me off. Suck that jism right out of the end of my nice, hard cock. Be sure to swallow.”

By now they have Andrea in her sex place, barely cognizant of the world around her. All save for the cock in her mouth, and the demands this young stud is making of her. Demeaning her. Seemingly doing his best to humiliate her. It was as if he knew that’s precisely what she craved. It had been so long since her need to be used had been triggered that she’d forgotten how glorious it feels. She’s been made into Atlas’ sex toy. Something to be used. Made demands of that she’ll willingly comply with. Diane and Atlas have turned her into the craven whore of old, and she absolutely loves it.

“Cum in her mouth!” Diane demanded.

“I can’t without more pressure.”

“You heard him, Andrea. Jack him off! Take him to the brink!”

Backing away, Andrea begins pumping on his swollen meat like a woman possessed, looking him in the eyes the whole time she’s doing it. After a bit, his eyes fluttered shut. Great! She had him on the brink.

“Fuck her mouth!” Diane demands.

Gawd, will he? Sure enough, holding her by the back of her head, he starts humping her, jack-hammering his cock into her willing mouth at break-neck speed. It’s glorious. “Gawd! I’m there!” he hollers, pinning her face against him.

She feels his cock swell inside her mouth. Then flex. Flex again. Then explode.

That first blast shoots down her gullet, well beyond her taste buds. She draws her head back to the point the head of his dick was positioned inside her mouth. A second blast erupts, abetted by her sucking mouth.

“That’s it, Atlas! Come in her mouth!”

As if he needed encouragement. It had been so long since she’d sucked off a virile young cock, she’d forgotten how much young guys cum. Spurt after spurt erupted into her waiting, sucking mouth as she drained him of his need. Finally, only when he’d softened, did she take him out of her mouth, lapping the head of his fading erection with gentle licks of her tongue, staring him in the eyes as she did so. She—a married woman—had just given this young stud what she hoped was the best blow job of his life. She’d never felt so alive.
Only after it was apparent he had no more jism left to offer did she pull away.

She stood there, her face flushed and her limbs shaking. She knew she should feel ashamed. Instead, she felt exhilarated.

“Christ, Mrs. Jaimeson. You’re amazing,” Atlas says, slipping off the pool’s edge into the water.

“Do you think you’re up to another go around?” Diane asks him, fondling his half-hard erection, bringing it back to life.

“Hell yes. Why? You want some action, too?”

“No,” she said, stroking him back to fullness. “I want you to fuck Andrea. You have her all hot and bothered. There’s no way she’ll say no.”

“Is that right, Mrs. Jaimeson?” he asks, dragging over to the pool’s ladder.

“NO! We can’t!”

“Notice how she said ‘we’ instead of ‘you?’ You have her primed and ready. Do it! Fuck her!”

Taking hold of his cock, Atlas pries her legs apart, and without a moment’s hesitation, thrusts his cock up and into her soaking wet love canal and starts humping her.

“Oh Gawd!” she shrieks. “You’re doing it! You’re fucking me!”

She greets his each and every thrust with a cry of, “Oh! Oh! Oh!” It feels glorious. Wrapping her legs around him, she digs her heels into his ass, arching forward to receive his every downward thrust.

“You like what I’m doing to you, don’t you Mrs. Jaimeson?” he asks. “You like having that hungry twat of yours getting pounded by my cock. My penis. My tool,” he boasts, changing his description of it with each new thrust. “Tell me you love it, Mrs. Jaimeson. Tell my you love having my cock inside of you, fucking you.”

Obvious to all three of them, there was no point in denying it. “Oh, Gawd! I do! You know I do. Fuck me, you stud. I’m almost there. So good. So good.” Her orgasm washes over her. “You’ve done it, you bastard. You made me cum!” she screamed, hammering her pelvis into his tool. Suddenly speech abandons her. Digging her heels into his ass, she cums all over his cock.

Pushing his cock deep inside of her, Atlas stops moving, holding himself inside of her as she goes through the throes of her orgasm. Finally, her eyes pop open, and her gyrations cease.

“Fuck her some more, Atlas,” Andrea demanded. “This time, cum with her. Cum inside of her.”

“You bet!” he says, renewing his thrusts, ignoring Adrea’s cry of, “No-o-o.”

She’s so primed by now that almost instantly she feels another orgasm coming on. “No, no, no, no,” she moans as her muscles down there began to twitch and flutter.

“She’s there. Do it now!” Diane demands.

“No-o-o,” she wails as his cock flexes, then explodes. “Oh Gawd! He’s doing it,” she screams. “He’s cumming inside of me.”

Her mind blanks as she digs her heels into his ass, forcing him deeper as she savors the glory of the pulsating ejaculations flooding her hungry pussy with jism, forever putting an end to her right to claim herself a faithful wife. To her surprise, that fact didn’t bother her in the least.

Minutes later, he withdraws. “You are one bodacious fuck, Mrs. Jaimeson,” he compliments. “That said, it’s time for me to skedaddle.” With that, he climbs out of the pool, dresses, and leaves the area.

“You have my phone number, right?” Diane calls out as he departs.

Without looking back, he gives her a thumbs up.

Diane turns to face Andrea. “Now that’s how you deal with an unfaithful husband. The good news is, you have two more pool cleanings awaiting you.
 

Samson

Her short-term lack of guilt has vanished come morning. Ashamed of her actions, she chides herself for letting herself lose control. To participate in behavior so lewd she could never share that she’d done with anyone. But Diane knew. Knew, hell. She’d orchestrated it. As much as she wanted to be angry with her friend; to scold her; to shun her; down deep, she knew she was the one to blame, not Diane. She could have halted events before they got out of hand at any time. But she didn’t. Truth was, she’d relished the experience. What was done was done. It would never happen again, despite the fact she still had two pool cleanings to come. Two more Saturdays to endure.

Over the course of the week, she continued to chastise herself for her lewd behavior, vowing to never let it happen again. Her efforts proved quite successful, too—save for those nights in bed—when her lewd dreams came to the fore, battling her better self for control of her psyche. Her nightly replays of what had transpired out at the pool had her digging her vibrator out of storage, putting it to use on a nightly basis.

Come Saturday morning, the warring sides of her personality were still at it, with the dark side ever so slowly gaining advantage. Would Atlas arrive at ten o’clock like he had last time, or come later? Or come at all? She owned half a dozen bathing suits. Which to wear? Which one to greet him in? The skimpiest of them showed off her figure the best. Yes, she’d wear that one.

She fixed herself a cup of hot java, put on her bikini, and headed out to their pool to relax and read the morning news. Having your own backyard swimming pool was a perk of having married such a rich, successful man—even if he was a two-timing bastard. Yes. Her marriage, although less than ideal, still had its perks.

Done with her morning brew, she spread sun lotion on her legs, belly and shoulders, and lay back to enjoy the morning sun. She was just dozing off when she heard the doorbell ring. She rushed to answer it. She opened the door, expecting to see Atlas standing there. Instead, some equally handsome young hunk, clad in swimsuit, sandals, and a shirt with the Greek symbols, ΔΒΦ stenciled on its front. It wasn’t Atlas. Good. She should have no trouble behaving herself.

“Yes?” she asks.

“Are you Andrea Jaimeson?”

“I am. And are you?”

“My name is Samson.” First Atlas, now Samson. Both were clearly pseudonyms selected to hide their true identity. That meant she had no clue as to the real name of the young man she’d had sex with the previous weekend. But she was pretty sure it wasn’t Atlas. “I’m here to clean your pool,” he said, breaking her out of her reverie.

She looked the young man over. ‘Samson’ may not be her Atlas, but he was just as cute. And sexy to boot. What the hell? Why not take advantage of pool cleanings that had already been paid for?

“Follow me,” she said, leading him out to the pool. “The vacuum’s in there,” she said, pointing at a shed at the far end. “Have at it.”

Taking a seat in one of the chaise lounges, she slipped on her sun glasses and pretended to read her newspaper. In truth, she was eyeing Samson and the delightful bulge protruding from the front of his swim suit. Squeezing her thighs together, she imagined herself kneeling in front of this young stud; pulling down his swimsuit the way Diane had done to Atlas; and taking his young cock into her mouth—like she’d so many times done back in her dating days, say nothing of last weekend. She found few things sexier than getting a man so aroused he couldn’t help but cum in your mouth. Plus, blow jobs had the added advantage of not getting you pregnant.

Thinking such thoughts was making her wet down there. And surprisingly, without a sense of guilt. Maybe Diane was right. Perhaps her cheating hubby deserved to be cuckolded. The more she thought about it, the less her lewd thoughts seemed wrong. What would it be like to get another young buck all turned on? Make his cock swell? Taste him.

Forcing such thoughts from her mind, she picked up her sun tan tube and started rubbing it onto her shoulders and chest. Her efforts didn’t go unnoticed by… Samson. Samson, as in Samson and Delila? Gawd! In retrospect, their phony names now seemed obvious.

Slipping her fingers inside her halter top, she coated her nipples with lotion, feeling them swell as she did so. She glanced at Samson. He was watching her. She checked his crotch. Was it growing? Had what she was doing aroused him?

Smiling inwardly, she lowered her lounge to a flattened position and removed her halter top. Letting his gaze feast on her naked breasts ought to get that dong of his swelling. Shutting her eyes, she fantasized about him walking over to her. Removing his bathing suit; and kneeling in front of her, forcing his swollen cock deep inside her mouth, demanding that she suck him off.

Her fantasy was just getting good when the sound of his voice broke her out of her reverie. He truly was standing beside her. “The pool’s clean now,” he said, making no bones of the fact he was checking out her exposed breasts. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to take a swim and get some of this sweat off me.”

Staring at his crotch through her sunglasses, she said, “Have at it.”

“Thanks.”

Sitting up, she watched the sway of his ass as he walked to the deep end of the pool and dove in. After a couple of lengths, he swam to the edge of the pool where, to her unending delight, he took off his swim trunks. “Swimming ala naturale is way better,” he said, tossing his swimsuit onto the patio. He resumed his swimming. With each stroke, his body swayed, causing his naked ass cheeks to break the surface, one, then the other, as he swam back and forth.

Wanting a closer view, she climbed off her lounge and walked to the ladder at the pool’s shallow end. Glorying in the sway of her exposed breasts. Swimming to her, Samson stood, the shallow waters exposing his cock. He walked to her, seemingly oblivious to his nakedness. It was beyond her to do anything but stare at his manhood as he hoisted himself up out of the pool beside her. He sat on the ledge, his feet dangling in the water, his cock on full display. “Come here, Mrs. Jaimeson,” he coaxed, offering her his hand. “I want to get a closer view of those lovely breasts of yours.”

Could she? Hell, how could she not? Walking as if in a trance, she headed through the waist deep in water, breasts swaying, not stopping until she stood right in from of him.

“Yes. Much better,” he said, reaching down to clasp a nipple between thumb and forefingers. How outrageous, she thought. And how delightful. “Such lovely titties you have.” Smiling, he added, “You can touch me too, if you’d like.”

She stood there, staring at his cock, telling herself not to do it, yet knowing it was beyond her not to. Reaching forward, her trembling fingers enveloped his cock. Sliding her hand up and down its length, she stared up at him for what must have been a full minute before finally looking back down at what by now was a fully swollen organ.

Apparently, the longing in her eyes was apparent. “Put it in your mouth, my dear. Suck me like you did for Atlas.”

Damn! Atlas had blabbed. Miffed, she looked up at him. “You’ve no right to talk to me like that. Besides, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” he said. Chuckling, he placed a hand on the back of her head and lowered her face to his crotch. It was beyond her to resist him. Somehow, she’d slipped into this strange trance of hers again. The one in which it she found it impossible to defy a man’s demands.

Looking him in the eyes, her mouth opened, her lips encompassing his heated manflesh in a real-life reenactment of what she’d fantasized herself doing to some young stud as she’d masturbated in bed the night before. Gawd, but it was exciting. This was Diane’s fault. First for planting the idea into her head, then sending her a second stud to further test her will.

“That’s it, Mrs. Jaimeson, suck my cock,” he urged, watching her throw herself into her task. “I saw how you were staring at it—wanting it. Do it, Mrs. Jaimeson. Suck my cock like the horny little bitch Atlas said you are. Mmmm, yes. That’s it! Suck my cock! So good. So good.”

She knew she ought to be offended by his foul diatribe. Instead, it had the opposite effect on her. She wanted to be debased. Needed to be made to do things that no faithful wife would ever consider, much less do. Even had she not been standing knee deep in water, his bawdy demands would have had her pussy drenched. Somehow, like Atlas had done, this young stud had turned her into his sex toy. How had it happened she hadn’t a clue? Did her hubby’s cock have this same effect on his pretty little secretary? Was it beyond her to do anything but submit to her husband’s sexual whims? To accede to his lewdest demands?

Pulling back, she eased him out of her mouth and stared up at him, hoping her lascivious expression conveyed the truth of her thoughts. That she was a horny bitch seeking satisfaction. She’d gone ten years without having sucked a cock other than her husband’s, and here she was, doing it to a second guy in a week. Could she get Samson to cum in her mouth like Atlas did? Taste his spunk? Would he let her look in his eyes as his need mounted to the point it became uncontainable, causing him cum in her mouth. Would he force her to swallow?

She felt him thrust. Again. Then again. She had him on the brink. It wouldn’t be long now.

Suddenly, he grasped her head with both his hands, pinning her face against him. “Gawd! You’ve done it, Mrs. Jaimeson. I’m there!”

She felt his cock swell inside her mouth. Felt it pulsate as he pushed his excited, throbbing cock deeper into her mouth. A third such throb was accompanied by a lustful blast of semen that hit the back of her throat. Pulling backwards, she eased it from the depths of her throat, into her mouth proper, sucking his erupting ejaculate into her mouth. Reaching inside her bathing suit, she stroked herself as he came, experiencing a joyous, earth-shaking orgasm of her own.

She kept him locked inside her mouth, doing her all to suck any remnant jism out of his cock into her mouth. Only when she felt him begin to soften did she pull away. She looked up.

He was grinning. “Atlas didn’t exaggerate. That was one hell of a blow job, Mrs. Jaimeson.”

Slipping back into the pool, he took her by the hand, towing her to the steps at the shallow end of the pool. Out they climbed. Suddenly, he turned and kissed her, tugging her swim suit bottoms down as he did so. Breaking their kiss, he said, “You’ll won’t be needing those with what we’re about to do.” With that, he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the house. “Which one’s your bedroom?”

“Last room on the right.”

Seconds later, he was kneeling over her with cock in hand. Parting her legs, he thrust his revitalized cock into her, taking her to Nirvana. Later, she might rue their actions, but right now, it was absolute heaven. It was exactly what she needed. A good hard fuck. And Samson was proving himself up to the task.