Her reaction was immediate. She started building to an orgasm again, then coming repeatedly. She kept on coming until I finally stopped licking anal creampie, well after I’d slurped all my cum back out of her hot, little ass. I raised my face and looked up over her body at her, convinced from the loving look on her face that she was more in love with me than any time before in her life.
“Come up here, Darling. I want to kiss you after anal creampie,” she whispered.
Wordlessly I did as she asked, and received one of the hottest French kisses we’d ever shared. Her tongue went deeper inside my mouth than it had ever been before. I knew what she was after. She wanted a taste the anal creampie I’d just sucked back out of her ass. She wanted some of the combination of cum and pussy juices I’d just lapped up.
From that night on, we never missed an opportunity to have me lick her out after making love. Then, one afternoon, some months ago, she called me at the office. “Darling, remember the other night you were saying that you loved me so much that you’d eat cum out of my pussy and ass no matter where it came from?” she asked.
I was sitting behind my desk, engaged in some of the most boring paperwork I’d ever seen, but instantly sprang the stiffest woodie I’d had in months. I knew what was coming.
“There’s this guy that’s been coming on to me at the spa, and I’m pretty sure he’ll leave a `deposit’ in me for you to taste, afterward,” she said. “What should I do?”
All I could manage was a strangled, “Go for anal creampie!”
“OK, Honey” she chirped. “See you when you get home!”
The rest of the day was pure agony for me. Not over my wife’s blatant infidelity; rather over the anticipation of eating another man’s anal creampie. My cock stayed erect the whole time, embarrassing me on several occasions. My secretary, a prim, middle-aged spinster noted it and shook her head in disgust. Or so I thought. Much later, I was to find out how turned on she was by my obvious arousal. She knew the source, too. She had put through the call from my wife.
When I burst through the door that evening, she greeted me wearing only a pair of panties and a smile. Nakedly, she gestured me over to a throw rug I hadn’t seen before in front of the fireplace, and instructed me to lie down on it, on my back.