The first step of treading the new post-fucking-Sara-with-my-wife-watching world was to find out how Chelsea felt about what happened. I could have called on the way home to find out, but I was too nervous. It probably would have saved me some time if she wanted me out of the house as work was closer to hotels than we were in the suburbs, but it was too late now. I was home and walking into the unknown.
I unlocked the front door and walked in. “Chelsea?” I called before closing the door. I was a little startled as I shut the door behind me, finding Chelsea standing right there. She wore a short silk dressing robe that barely covered her crotch. All I could see were her bare legs, and I thought I could see her nipples poking through the thin silk.
“You really liked fucking that dirty little slut, didn’t you, Trevor?” she said. Fuck. I knew I had gone too far. I stepped back, quickly coming up against the door.
“Shit, honey, I’m sorry, I thought that’s what you wanted!” She smiled. I was very confused.
“It’s exactly what I wanted and more, honey,” she said stepping towards me. Things began to fall into place, and I slowly came around to the fact that she intentionally acted a bit put off just to fuck with me. It worked, and then some.
Now, though, as she got up to me, she pushed up on her toes and kissed me. I kissed her back hard, trying not to think about kissing Sara less than an hour earlier. Chelsea broke the kiss and dropped to her knees in front of me. “Baby, what are you doing?”
“You know exactly what I’m doing, honey,” she said as she dropped my pants to my ankles. “It was fucking amazing. It was so sexy watching you and Sara. I can’t tell you how many times I came.” She held my cock up, stroking it and trying to return it to life. “But now I want to taste that hot little slut on my husband’s big cock.”
Chelsea began licking wildly, then taking what she could of my cock in her mouth. She moaned as she worked me, emulating my earlier encounter. She pulled my cock from her mouth and looked up at me. “Talk dirty to me baby. I want you to call me sexy, nasty, names like you did for Sara,” she said before hungrily resuming her work on my cock.
I paused to think about what to say to her. It was definitely not the frame of mind I was in walking through the door moments earlier. “So you liked watching that, huh? Liked being a dirty little cuckquean, touching yourself while your husband fucks a sexy little whore for you?” Chelsea moaned at hearing this and worked my cock harder. I put my hand on her head as she bobbed up and down. “Mmm, clearly you do. Who knew my sweet little wife was such a dirty little closet whore, just dying to be fucked hard and rough like the cum slut she watched her hubby fuck?” Chelsea’s moans nearly turned into screams with my cock still in her mouth. She popped her head off my cock for a moment, looking up at me and stroking my wet shaft.
“I want you to fuck my face, just like you did to Sara. I want you to force your cock down my throat with the same passion that you did to hers. I want you to make me deep throat that cock,” she said before swirling her mouth around it a few more times. She forced herself down until she hit the back of her throat. She had never gone past that.
Chelsea looked up at me, tears forming in the corner of her eyes and I could see the makeup starting to move on her face. “I even put on the cheap mascara so you can see what you do to me, see the mess you make when you fuck your wife’s face. Now man up and own your dirty little slut wife,” she said with a smile. I looked down at her with a wicked grin. I took her beautiful head in my hands and as she turned to take my cock again, I let her hit the back of her throat. She bounced a couple times, still not crossing that barrier. I reached my hand for her throat, with the other on the back of her head, and I pushed right through the barrier, feeling her gag and hearing her retch as the airway blocked.