Uncensored Riding High Quality Porn

The Fourth of July sets off fireworks of a different kind.

Peter's hips rose up and a groan came from deep in his chest. His penis swelled and then began pulsating, spewing out his seed, first into Emma's mouth and then all over her face as she quickly spit him out, shrieking with astonishment.

Now that his release was complete, Peter began yelling at Emma, demanding to know whatever had possessed her to do something like that.
"Only a tramp would think of taking a penis in their mouth, not a happily married wife! Have you gone insane? Tell me what were you thinking, Emma."

There was no good answer to that and she only felt overwhelmed with dreadful shame as the spell she'd been under all day was completely shattered.

In her imagination, Peter would have taken her in his arms and thanked her for doing something so wonderful and brave, just to please him. Perhaps he would have offered to do the same for her, and their life together would have entered a new phase, a wonderful bond forged between them.

Peter stormed around the room, towel held against his crotch, yelling at the top of his lungs that his wife had just behaved like a common tramp.

Mortified beyond belief, she fled, thundering down the stairs and locking herself in the downstairs powder room where she wept bitter tears at having embarrassed herself and her husband so completely. She now saw clearly how incredibly immorally she'd behaved.

How could she ever look Peter in the eye again? It was even worse when she went to rinse off her face and saw in the mirror that it was still covered with ropes of her husband's sticky semen. She had been so upset, she hadn't even noticed.

Peter stayed upstairs and Emma was too ashamed to go up, so she spent the night weeping and dozing on the sofa in their study, vowing never again to look at filthy images on the Internet. From now on, she would strive to be a dutiful wife.


The repeated chime of the doorbell woke Emma from a deep sleep at 9:30 the next morning.

Momentarily disoriented, she sat up quickly wondering what was happening. It ding-donged twice more before her brain clicked into gear and she got up to run to the door. Her hands were already on the handle and lock when she realized that she was only dressed in a tee-shirt.

Counting her blessings, she scurried upstairs and threw on the loose-fitting jeans she'd worn the day before. Padding back down, she crossed their small foyer, looking in the mirror as she passed. Her hair looked like rats had set up house in it and her eyes had dark circles underneath them. She wished she had just hidden in the basement until Derek had given up.

He was dressed in running shorts with a nylon mesh athletic shirt above and a big grin on his face.

"You're wearing that today for our run?"

Emma blushed, since she just realized that her breasts would be obviously unencumbered by a bra if Derek bothered to look -- which he equally obviously did.

"I, um, I overslept this morning. I'm really sorry, but I can't possibly be ready for at least another 40 minutes to an hour."

She meant her comment as a way to put off the whole undertaking. After all, Derek had been partially the cause of her complete humiliation with Peter the previous evening. The last thing she wanted was to have to be around him this morning.

"That's all right. I have nothing else on today, so whether we leave now or an hour from now makes no difference to me. I'll be out in my back yard reading the paper, so come and fetch me when you're ready."


He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "It's okay. I understand. Take your time, but I was really looking forward to going out for a run with you."

With that, he turned and disappeared into his front door. Emma really was stuck. It would be quite rude to refuse to go now. Why hadn't she thought of saying she didn't feel well? It was true enough.

Forty-five minutes later, Emma stepped out onto her back deck.

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