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“Thanks.” I leave her there, feeling a flare of guilt. The idea of Gianna being in her room all day makes me feel as if I’ve failed in some way, but I’m not sure what it is that I’m supposed to do, exactly. I don’t knowhowto help her, not when I know that what she really wants is the thing that I can’t do for her.
I head upstairs, feeling tired and in need of a hot shower, before getting dressed again and going down to dinner. I pass Gianna’s room on the way, and when I see the door is cracked, I can’t stop myself from pausing just long enough to glimpse inside.
I tell myself that I’m just surreptitiously checking on her, just making sure she’s alright and hasn’t spent the entire day in bed. But what I see stops me in my tracks.
She’s naked. Entirely naked from head to toe, and I can see from the way her damp, dark hair clings to her back between her shoulder blades that she must have just gotten out of the shower. My hands curl into fists as I imagine what her skin must feel like right now, before I can stop myself, warm and damp against my palms if I ran them over her.
With every bit of effort I possess, I force myself to turn away, to stop looking before I can continue to take in the slope of her breast and the curve of her waist, the way her hip swells into the perfect globe of her ass, her skin flushed and pink from the shower. My cock is half-hard already, jolting into arousal at the sight of my wife’s bare skin. I have every intent to continue on down the hall until I see her reflection in front of me, framed in one of the pictures hanging on the wall across from her room.
Fuck.My heart is hammering in my chest, my mouth going dry. She’s so fucking beautiful, every inch of her delicate perfection, and I want to run my hands over all of her. I clench my fists tighter, fighting the urge to go into her room as I watch her bend over, sliding a pair of silky-looking panties up her thighs. If I were looking directly at her, I might be able to see the hint of her soft folds between them, and the thought makes my cock harden even more, straining against my fly.
Any second now, I realize as I watch her slide the panties over her hips, she’s going to turn around and see me. Only that thought—the fear of her catching me watching her—propels me forward down the hall, back to my room and the safety of the shower I’d planned on taking.
When I leave my room again, dressed in chinos and a t-shirt for the evening, my desire has returned to a frustrated simmer. I managed to keep my hand off my cock in the shower, knowing I’d fantasize about bending Gianna over and stripping those panties off of her, but I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold out. It’s one thing to go without sex; it’s quite another to go without a release ofanykind—and it’s been weeks now since I’ve come.
She’s no longer in her room when I walk past a second time. But the door is still cracked, and from the hall, I can see the grey wicker laundry hamper on the other side of the room—a pair of silky black panties crumpled on the rug next to it.
My heart hammers in my chest as I stare at them. I feel frozen to the spot, and I feel the rush of blood to my groin, a throbbing, aching need that floods through me as I stare at Gianna’s panties and tell myself not to do what I’m thinking of. Not to fall that next bit further, no matter how hard I am right now, no matter how my heart thuds in my chest with the anticipation of what I’m imagining.
But my feet are already carrying me forward before I can stop myself. I scoop the panties off of the floor, burying them in my pocket with another hot pang of guilt, and retreat back down the hall to my own room. I’m going to be late for dinner, but—
Or maybe I won’t.The throbbing in my cock is painful, and it nearly bursts out of my fly the moment I drag the zipper down, rock-hard and dripping pre-cum. I don’t think this is going to take long, especially not with what I want to do.
I slip the silky black panties out of my pocket, and realize with another painful throb of desire that it’s a thong—just like the one she wore the night I spanked her in my office. I have a perfect memory of her ass arched out towards me, red from the imprint of my hand against her skin, that small strip of black fabric between her thighs soaked with arousal. She’d been turned on by the punishment. It’s the only reason I hadn’t done it again when she’d deserved it.
I’m not sure I could have stopped myself from fucking her a second time.
Slowly, I bring the fabric to my nose, breathing in her scent for the first time. It’s sweet and musky and makes my cock throb; more pre-cum flowing freely now, my balls tight with the need to come. I’m fairly sure it will only take a few strokes before I spill over the edge, and I wrap my hand around myself, determined to make it last a little longer if I can, as I squeeze the base of my cock, stimulating the taut flesh with a few short, quick strokes that leave me groaning into the silky fabric as I breathe in her scent.
My toes curl against the rug, the muscles in my thighs going taut as I slowly slide my fist upwards, the friction of skin on skin making me shudder with pleasure. It feels so fucking good, and I flick my tongue out against the silk, desperate to taste her as my palm slides over the swollen head of my cock, another groan spilling from my lips. I know what I must look like right now, my wife’s panties pressed to my nose and mouth when I could have her on my bed instead, my face buried in her pussy. I could have wet, slick flesh against my mouth, her scent smeared across my stubble, and instead, I’m thrusting into my own fist, desperately close to the edge as I fight the urge to groan her name.
I can’t last long. Weeks of not touching myself and the forbidden, taboo thrill of what I’m doing are too much, combined together.She’s my fucking stepsister,I shout at myself from somewhere in the depths of my mind, trying to force back the urgent desire, trying to stop myself, maybe, before I finish this—but it doesn’t feel like it matters in this moment. That might be true—but she’s my wife now. And I’m going to come imagining her pussy in my face whether I should or not.
My cock is throbbing in my hand, on the verge of release. I wrap the black silk around the head of my cock, thrusting, fucking into her panties as I stand up on shaky legs, still stroking as I near the very edge—and then I rip the silk free, spreading them out on the bed as I aim the tip of my cock towards the soft fabric right where they would lay against her center, stroking furiously.
The sound that rips from me as my cock explodes sounds nearly inhuman. I grip my cock tightly, rubbing my hand along it in a frenzy as I watch cum splash over the gusset of my wife’s panties, imagining that it’s her pussy instead, her soft pink folds spread wide as I come all over her clit, watching it drip down. I moan, grabbing onto the edge of the bed as I lurch forward, still stroking, thrusting, imagining running my fingers through her pussy afterward, gathering up all that thick, hot cum and pushing it inside of her while she squirmed and mewled under me, wanting more. I imagine fucking it into her with my fingers, rubbing my softening cockhead over her clit, driving her to another orgasm with my cum deep inside of her—
Fuck. I’m still fucking hard, the fantasy pushing my desire into overdrive. It’s not enough. Nothing short of fucking her will be enough, but I grab the cum-soaked panties, wrapping them around my cock as I kneel on the bed, dragging the wet silk over my overstimulated cock as my hips snap forward, imagining I’m fucking her like this—on her knees too, pushing my cum deeper inside of her. I imagine squeezing her ass with my other hand, pounding my cock into her, my thumb tracing the tight hole between her cheeks as I fuck her the wayIwant to as she submits to me—
The second orgasm comes hard on the heels of the first, almost too much, as it tears from my oversensitive cock. I hold the panties over my cockhead as I come into them again, focusing only on it, the mixture of overwhelming pleasure and pain almost a punishment even as I groan and thrust, the orgasm ripping through me as I press my lips tightly together against the moan of her name.
The moment the climax ebbs, my cock finally starts to soften, and I feel exhausted. I slump against the pillows, the soaked fabric still wrapped around my tip, feeling ashamed of myself as I wonder how long, exactly, I’m going to be able to do this.
How long can this go on?A few weeks, and I’m stealing her panties and using them to jerk off.It feels worse than just sleeping with my wife. I’ve told myself I’m protecting her innocence, but again and again, I’m violating it in my imagination. If I can’t control my desires—
What if I gave in? What if I gave us what I both want?
I let out a groan, rubbing a hand over my eyes. I went into this marriage intent on keeping my resolve. I’d believed I could do it, that I could protect her without subjecting her to any of my desires.
It looks like that’s going to be more difficult than I could have ever thought.
Gianna
Ileft the panties for Alessio on purpose.
I’d caught a glimpse of him, watching outside of my room as I dressed. I saw him looking at my reflection in the picture, and I had a spark of an idea.
Now, lying in my bed after catching him doing exactly what I had imagined he would, peeking at him through the cracked door as he’d jerked off using the panties I’d left behind for him, I don’t know how to feel.
