Making a Deal Ch. 01 by EightyThousandEightyFive,EightyThousandEightyFive

When he replaced his leg with that ICBM he called a penis and slid himself into her, Michelle let herself stop fighting, promising inwardly to regroup and try later. It was a defense. It was all she had in the moment. Tacit permission now given to herself, she lifted one of her legs, freeing it from the skirt she’d put so much stock in that morning, and wrapped it around her lover’s hip.

“Huh… huh… mmm, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh…” The nonsensical susurrations streamed from her dry lips as she gripped his back with white-knuckled hands and dug her heel into his chiseled ass when the first, small orgasm hit. The pair bobbed up and down together, and her hold on him grew tighter and tighter. The friction of the glass on her own marvelous derrière was a kind of sweet pain, and it made her grit her teeth when Dom picked up the pace. “Ah, ahhh, ahhhhhhhh!” Michelle threw back her head and gave a throaty cry, her scruples of mere minutes earlier, wan as they were, now entirely forgotten.

“What were you going to say, Misha?” Dom’s tone was casually amused, and he moved into a series of short, staccato thrusts that seemed to drive straight for her navel. “What were you prepared to tell me?”

“Nothing! Nothing!” She didn’t know, didn’t want to know. It was pointless in that moment, and she pushed her bouncing tits into his chest brace them. To give them back to him.

“Were you going to break a deal? Is your husband worth the death of your word?” He slammed up into her and held himself there, grinding his hips into hers with little sways.

“No!” No to both questions? Also a pointless thought right then. “No, no, no… just… no…” Her fingers dug into his back so hard that it must have been painful, despite his lack of reaction.

“I thought not.” She couldn’t see it, but she nonetheless heard the smirk on his face. Then the flood she loved so much began as he emptied himself into her, and she spasmed with her own deep fulfillment. Vaguely aware then of his extraction from her sputtering pussy, she let herself be pulled into his house, grateful for the privacy in the back of her mind, but knowing it didn’t matter either way. Her only real thought then was, more.

It was a full hour later, according to the harsh chimes of the Novaks’ old grandfather clock, when Michelle and Dom allowed themselves to wind down. They were on the couple’s big, plush couch; she with her bare back sticking to his sweaty chest like glue, him with his nose in her matted black hair as he nibbled on her earlobe. She could tell that her glasses were askew on her head, and only marveled that they were still in anywhere near the same place they’d been when she’d started her laughable attempt to end this… affair.

Fuck me forever. I’m cheating on the greatest man I’ve ever known.

Her first honest facing of the truth caused a pair of tears to crawl down her cheeks, though the hands possessively groping her heaving breasts, which were yellowing in small spots with faint bruises from the rough passion they’d been subjected to, helped her endure it. It’s not over. I can fix this. I broke the deal, but I can make a new one. One that Ed can agree to. I’ll give away the farm if I have to.

When one of the massaging, magical hands lifted, leaving the abandoned breast beneath it lonely and aching for it to return, then migrated south… well, the next hour spent putting the sofa springs to another stress test was just incidental at that point.

__________

Here it was. Day eight. D-day. One month was over. Michelle stood before her own front door and took a long, deep breath.

It was Friday morning, ten o’clock sharp. She was proud of that. This time, she’d stuck to the schedule. Yeah sure, maybe the last… four? Five? sessions had gone juuuust a bit over, but here and now, on the last of them, she made sure to definitively end it right on the dot.

Michelle Lawrence had graduated. Her training was complete, and it was time to show the man she loved above all others that she is, was, and always would be his. She just hoped that her throbbing sphincter wouldn’t keep her from enjoying sitting in Ed’s lap, which was her favorite seat.

Fucking Dom and his fucking last tribute. I can’t believe I let… oh. Oops. As Michelle tried to surreptitiously reach past the hem of her tight little skirt to make an attempt to scoop away the jizz dribbling from her bare, abused-but-happy ass, she gave a reflexive giggle. Wow, would my face have been red. I really shouldn’t have let him tear away my panties. Again.

She also shouldn’t have acquiesced to the man’s other demand and made a formal pledge that she would never let Ed have what she’d given Dom and Dom alone, even if her reward for the words had been… oh, just so, so very…

She shivered, then shook her head decisively. It’s not a big deal. It’s over. She didn’t have to keep any stupid promises to her hot neighbor, even if the idea of completely reneging on an agreement instead of adjusting it didn’t sit well with the inveterate negotiator.

After flinging the spunk into the grass and licking her fingers clean, Michelle turned the knob of her beautiful blue door and went back into her house, assuring herself with everything in her that this was Day One of the rest of her life. Never mind that Ed had been a ghost for the last three weeks, barely even crossing paths with her. Never mind that she, until that moment, had been completely unable to let Dom go. The contract was up. Her end was fulfilled, and now nothing hung over her head but what she owed her husband.

It’s Day One of the rest of our lives. I know it. I can make this happen. Get ready, Edward Lawrence, your world is about to be fucking rocked!

The first thing that Michelle realized upon entering was that Ed was home. She could hear him moving around upstairs. That was a new one; he’d stuck to his guns the entire time and was absolutely nowhere near their entire neighborhood on Mondays and Fridays. Or those few, quick Tuesday nooners when Dom showed up at their door unannounced, but that was because he’d waited for Ed to leave, of course.

The second thing she realized was that there was something there for her, waiting on the table. Two envelopes, each with a lot of words on the front. One was a list of people interested in buying their home… and the other had a big, black word that seemed to be laughing at her; Divorce.

Michelle’s heart nearly stopped, then her muscles did stop, and she collapsed to her knees as she started to hyperventilate. No, no, no, no no no nonononononono… Though all that came out of her was a raspy croak, her brain more than made up for it. Does he mean it doesn’t he believe it’s done I deserve it I love him he hates me I can fix it not too late your life is over so just end it for real he still loves me I know it…

The stream of consciousness raced unabated through her until she felt like her head was going to explode. Finally, she fought her rising gorge enough to hobble back to her feet and shoot a desperate look to the stairs.

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