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  With the idyllic suburban street, and the perfect little house, little lawn, husband at work, wife at home. All of this made even more idyllic on a day like today with the sun shining down on it all. They would say that obviously what we really needed to tie this all together and make it matter was a pair of children running around making our lives complete.

  But I knew this was bullshit.

  I knew that this version of an idyllic life was outdated as hell, traced back to a time when women became housewives and had children because they weren't allowed to do fuck all else. And the idea that we would just spit out a kid and it would smile and be perfect was even worse. It would cry, and shit, and stink, and drive both of us crazy. I'd grow to resent him for not being here all day to look after the kid with me, and he'd resent me for being too exhausted and distracted by the kid to suck his dick at night. It would make everything worse; I knew it in my heart.

  No, what I really needed, right now, and every day that I could arrange it from now on, was the cock of this man I'd met just a little while ago. This man named Jack.

  We met at the grocery store one day.

  I was out doing some shopping, getting a few things together for this big barbeque that my husband wanted to put on for some of his co-workers. However, he didn't have the time to go and get the meat himself, so I had to do it. I didn't mind that much, but it was sort of irritating, especially since I knew that he would inevitably criticize the purchases I'd made, tell me that I'd somehow gotten the wrong thing despite his instructions.

  Not that he would be violent about it or anything, he wasn't that kind of man, but it would be an annoying, passive aggressive conversation that I knew was destined to happen, and the only way it could be avoided was if he did his shopping himself, and yet he'd asked me to do it anyway. And if I tried to tell him any of this, he'd ask "wasn't I supposed to trust you?" and I'd say that's not what I meant - although in retrospect, he really shouldn't have been trusting me after that day, but I didn't know that yet.

  So needless to say, I was in a bit of an irritable mood when I pushed my cart around the corner into a new aisle and found some guy standing directly in my way, staring down at a box in his hands.

  "Oh, I sorry," I said, even though the guy hadn't even noticed me yet. We were in a medical area of the store, where I would go to find tampons and aspirin and things like that. It was also one of the aisles in the store that led directly into one of the cash register's stalls, which was actually a design flaw of the building which not many people knew about.

  With this guy standing in my way, I could clearly see the register I wanted to get to just over his shoulder; it would be a straight shot, if only this guy could move.

  "Excuse me," I said.

  He turned to look at me, and I was struck right away by his looks. He was tall, and clearly strong, as you could tell through his white T-shirt, which seemed to be holding his biceps in by sheer force of will. But the thing that surprised me was how good looking he was in terms of his facial structure; he seemed like the kind of guy who was supposed to go off and become a movie star somewhere.

  "Hello," he said, as if starting up a conversation, clearly not realizing that I wanted him out of the way, or not caring.

  "Could you please move?"

  "Sure," he said, stepping aside. I started pushing my cart past him, but it became more difficult when I realized that he was planning to walk beside me as I made my way to the register, "do you come here often?"

  "Yes," I said, "do you?"

  "Not really. But when I do, I'm usually happy with what I manage to find."

  "What does that mean?"

  "It means I'm pretty pleased with myself for finding you."

  I laughed a little and looked away from him. He put a hand on my cart to make it stop, and I was shocked by the strength within him. I stopped dead. Looking up at him, I realized that he wasn't messing with me.

  "I'm serious," he said, "what are you doing later?"

  "I'm having dinner with my husband."

  "I see," he said, "so you're not interested?"

  "I'm very interested, but it doesn't matter."

  "Why not?"

  "Because ... do I really have to explain all the reasons why?"

  "You sound like a lyric from a song."

  "Look, I appreciate the flattery, but I have to go."

  "I would fuck you every day between now and Christmas," he said, "and probably long after that. How often does he fuck you?"

  I looked around the aisle to make sure that we were alone, and then said, "Why are you doing this to me. You could have any girl you want."

  "That's right," he said, "I'm rich, I'm handsome, and I can probably get whoever I want to ride my cock. And right now that person is you."

  I didn't know what to say, but he gave me his card and told me to call him whenever I changed my mind. After he left, I looked at the card in my car and just sat in the parking lot staring at it for a good long while. I couldn't believe it, it seemed like a joke.

  Rich, handsome, extremely erotic, almost crudely so.

  And also, a fucking doctor.

  Finally, I saw him walking down the street toward my house. He was right on time. I stood outside to greet him, but this wasn’t the first time we’d met during the day while my husband was at work. This wasn’t our first rodeo together, our first ride.

  I was struck again by how beautiful he was. With the sun shining down on him and the green lawns on either side as he made his way toward the house, he looked like he’d just walked off a beautifully synthetic movie set from the 50s.

  He had parked down the street and walked into my strange little corner of the neighbourhood to meet me, not wanting to be seen walking to and from his car after a break of a few hours in which we’d been fucking.

  He didn’t really care that much if he ruined my marriage, but I was still clinging to the idea that I needed it, for some reason.

  He walked up to the porch to greet me and then we went inside.

  “You know, it’s probably more suspicious to wait outside for me like that,” he said, “you should really be waiting in the bed for me to arrive.”

  “How would you get in?”

  “You know how I like to get in,” he said.

  I laughed, “You know what I meant.”

  “Just leave the door unlocked.”

  “Ugh, I hate doing that,” I said, before turning to lock the door as if to make my point.

  “Eh, doesn’t matter,” he said, “I’m sure I could figure out a way in.”

  “There’s an alarm system in place.”

  “Eh, I’m sure I could figure out how to shut off the alarm system.”

  “Okay, now it’s getting sort of creepy.”

  “Alright, how about this?” He pressed me against the wall, pressing the hard bulge in his pants against me, and then kissed me, invading my mouth with his tongue. He leaned away after a moment and said, “Get upstairs and get naked. I want to set off your alarm system.”

  He grasped my thighs and plunged forward, licking, sucking, before taking his tongue out to massage my clitoris with it. I closed my eyes and felt the pulsing of the house match the pulsing in my crotch, as waves of pleasure crept toward me. Each wave grew bigger, and bigger, and finally I found myself stifling a scream as Cole worked his magic tongue.

  “Stop,” I said, sitting up suddenly. He did as he was told, and I leaned toward him. I was hungry now, hungrier than I’d ever been. And I wanted to eat him. I pulled down his shorts and gripped his cock tightly in my hands. I kissed the tip for a moment, before sliding him further into my mouth, coating him in my saliva as I did. I pulled him back again to the edge of my lips, and then went down again, massaging his cock with the inside of my mouth. It wasn’t until he was already pulsing and writhing with pleasure that I licked at his cock with my tongue.

  Just as I could feel him approaching his climax, he pulled my head back so that I was left staring at his glistening,
firmly erect dick. It bobbed in the air with each heartbeat.

  Before I knew it, I was on the bed again. He put me down on my back and then rolled me over onto my stomach. He pulled me up so that I was on my hands and knees, and then slowly, gently, pushed his cock into my pussy. I looked forward at the head of the bed, finding myself in one of the many positions I’d always seen but never tried. He thrust himself inside and then back out again so quickly it seemed as if he might never tire. I reached between my legs play with my clitoris and found his hand already reaching to do so himself. I put both my hands back down on the bed, pressing into the blanket with each thrust of his hips. My ass smacked against his stomach, but the sound was drowned as the music got louder, and the waves got bigger. He was entering me on one side and playing with me from another. I could feel the pulse of his cock as it slid in and out of my dripping pussy. I opened my mouth to scream as he reached with his other hand and grabbed onto my breast, squeezing one of my nipples and furiously rubbing his wet hand against my clitoris.

  Finally, his cock exploded inside me, and my own waves broke, leaving me spinning, adrift in a sea of pleasure. His cum filled me and then drained out around his cock. He reared back once more, thrusting his deflating dick inside one last time, before wearily sliding out and rolling onto the bed beside me.

  I collapsed onto my stomach and reached down to fondle my clitoris, getting the last of the orgasm before the nerves settled down again. Panting, sweating, and pulsing with ecstasy, we lay on the bed together.

  When I caught my breath, I asked, “How many more times do you think you can do all that before my husband comes home?”

  “As many as I can,” he said, “and if you’re still disappointed, I’ll be back again tomorrow.”

  I awoke several hours later, and at first the gentle moonlight coming in through the window was soothing to me.

  Until I realized that my husband must have come home.

  I sat up in bed suddenly and was shocked to see my lover sitting naked at the foot of the bed, staring down from where he sat. He was covered is a dark fluid, but in this little light, I couldn’t tell what it was. It stained the sheets around him.

  “What’s going on? What time is it?”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Did my husband come home? Where is he?”

  My lover didn’t look up to respond.

  “We won’t have to worry about him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I took care of him,” he said, finally lifting his head so that I could look into his eyes. In this near darkness, his eyes caught was little light there was and reflected it back out at me. He appeared like a demonic bear sitting at the foot of my bed as he said;

  “I put him to sleep. Now we can be together forever.”

  And then the bear came at me.

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  Thank you!

  Bearly Human

  Mindy Kay

  Bearly Human – Mindy Kay – Copyright – May 21st 2015

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  TEASER:

  “You may think this sounds awful, but I don’t care. I’ve been experiencing a sexual renaissance that I never would have dreamed of before I met my neighbour, and I didn’t care if one of the side effects was that I was becoming an objectively worse person. When you cum as hard as I have, you care a lot less about what other people think of you.”

  WARNING: This story contains graphic depictions of hot, steamy sex. Reader discretion is advised.

  Dedicated to Greg.

  I probably shouldn’t be telling anyone this, but to be honest, I just want to get it out of my system. I may not care particularly what you think of me, or what anyone thinks of me, for that matter.

  But still, some distant part of myself, some distant part of my religious upbringing is crying out for me to confess my sins, and on this day I have chosen to oblige it.

  When my husband left for work at the beginning of the day, I would arrange to go to the man across the street, my secret lover, so that we could make the most of his absence.

  Though as far as I was concerned, he’d been absent for years. He hadn’t touched me in months, and we each knew in our hearts that the divorce must be imminent. We’d had no discussion about this, but I could feel it was true, and if he did not, then he must have been even more blind than I thought.

  You may think this sounds awful, but I don’t care. I’ve been experiencing a sexual renaissance that I never would have dreamed of before I met my neighbour, and I didn’t care if one of the side effects was that I was becoming an objectively worse person. When you cum as hard as I have, you care a lot less about what other people think of you.

  Besides, with how certain I was of the impending doom of my childless marriage, I was equally certain that my husband must have been taking up other women behind my back. Though in his case, he was probably resorting to prostitutes. I doubted he would have hit the adulterous jackpot that I had; a chance encounter with the rarely seen person who lived in the big creepy house across the street. The shocking realization that he was by no means creepy, and neither was his house.

  And the swift realization that this not creepy man with enough money to own a massive old house, also harbored a burning desire to set your loins on fire.

  No, my husband would be paying some forty-six year old woman with sores on her face to suck his dick behind the city bank at two in the morning.

  He wouldn’t be living the sexual fantasy that I was.

  I stepped out my front door and turned to lock it behind me. His house loomed large across the street as I turned to look at it, looking out of place in the suburban neighbourhood. He had paid off a lot of people to leave the big old house exactly as it was while the world around it was changing over the years.

  He’d told me that the house was a family heirloom, and that he would spend his entire fortune to keep it as it was, if it came to that.

  But he doubted that it would. He would need to buy half the city outright before being concerned about putting a dent in his finances.

  Looking in the driveway of our house, I saw that my husband’s car was gone. I knew that it must have been, I’d heard him leave nearly half an hour ago. But it still filled me with relief every time I checked and was able to confirm that yes, indeed, he was gone for the day.

  With the amount of pleasure it gave me to see that he was gone, I briefly wondered if I would be happier if he were simply dead. It was a terrible thought, and I’ll admit that it really was awful of me to be thinking like that, but still. I wasn’t planning anything. It’s not as if I would actually take any steps to make something like that a reality.

  But still, all I really wanted was for him to be out of my life, so that I would be free to fuck the man across the street every single day.

  Or at least until he became sick of me for whatever reason.

  And after that? I don’t know, I’d do whatever I wanted at that point.

  I crossed the street and made my way up to his front door, feeling the morning sunlight on my skin and enjoying it while I could. After I entered the house, I may well stay inside until well after the sunset. I was prepared to send my husband a text saying that I’d be out for the evening, just to get away with staying over as long as possible.

  I rang on the doorbell and waited for less than five seconds before the door was opened by an attractive young man in a robe. He’d clearly been waiting for me like that.

  As with every time that I saw him, I was struck by his beauty.

 
I’d always assumed that he hid himself away in his house because he was ashamed of himself somehow, but looking at him now, I knew that he had nothing at all to be ashamed of.

  Least of all the treasure he kept between his legs.

  “Hey there,” he began, “are you lost?”

  “Yes,” I said, “do you know where I can find a big cock to stuff in my pussy?”

  “I think I may.”

  He stepped aside, allowing me to enter.

  “Though you may not want to be so vulgar while we’re outside together. Someone could overhear you.”

  “There’s no one out there,” I said, waiting inside as he shut and locked the door, “everyone is either inside or at work.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Still, it never hurt to be cautious.”

  “You worry too much.”

  “And you’re becoming too vulgar for your own good.”

  “And whose fault is that?”

  “I never told you you had to talk dirty to me,” He said, “I only told you to put the cock in your mouth and don’t forget to swallow.”

  “If you’re going to talk to me like that,” I said, “then do it while you’re fucking me.”

  He took me in his arms.

  “I think we’ve talked plenty enough for today.”

  My clothes were off immediately, and I was on my hands and knees before I knew it. I waited for him to get his cock inside me, and I did not need to wait long. He pressed his warmth into me, and I shuddered with the pleasure as he filled me up with himself. I was wet for him without him needing to do anything to stimulate me; I dampened his cock, lubricating him as he slid in and out, picking up the pace, as his cock grew more and more slippery.