David at Dawn

The house was full last night, and it was no surprise that people are everywhere, so close to us. And just as I'm beginning to enjoy David's fingers, now dipping tentatively between my outer lips, the big question hits me. Or... is that David? I haven't actually checked. For the last 4 years, I've woken up everyday next to David. I hadn't really considered that it may not be him. What the fuck do I do now? My head is too clouded to think. All I know is that if David is behind me, then all's fine. If David's in front of me... Then I've got a stranger between my legs and a real problem on my hands. As all of this is running through my mind the David behind me plunges two fingers about half way into my now wet and open hole. It's enough to make me let out a short gasp... just a little peep "oh!" but it produces stirs from the David in front of me. I hear him move very slightly, I think turning towards me. The absence of light in the room is still so absolute, no-one can see a thing. How can I find out if it's him? All I know is that I cannot let these two guys know that the other exists. What the fucks going on? I'm really still too spun out to understand my predicament. The fingers stirring inside me are too much to resist, I can't fight the sensations off. I don't have the strength, and my head is too messed up. Fear has gripped me, and my heartbeat has sped up, but my alcohol and self-abuse induced coma has taken any real edge or urgency off my reactions. I feel like I imagine a whale would in this situation. I want to fix it... but just don't see how I could really do that. The pleasure keeps building up inside me despite myself. After a short time, at his advance, I passively let the fingers be replaced by his cock, immediately shocked at my decision, letting myself be taken from behind by someone I possibly, maybe, don't even know. As it's sliding into my depth, I'm trying to feel if anything about it is really 'unique.'. Squeezing it, tightening the walls of my pussy around it. Feels great, but I'd be lying if I said I could actually feel the 'shape' of his cock inside me. I find nothing especially 'David-esque' about the intruding organ. The size feels right, the girth is filling me as usual, but I'm too wasted to really know. I'm amazed. Over four years of making love to the same man, and I still can't tell for sure if it's him inside me. I'm sure this would be the right time to take some kind of action. Oh bollocks to it, I'd say that time's long passed actually. Perhaps it's the slightly heavier breathing, or perhaps something in the atmosphere, created by our intercourse and only perceivable by the subconscious mind that makes the man in front of me start to stir. He's moving a little, and I suspect he's close to waking up. SHIT!! If that's David, I'm fucked! The situation is terrifying, but strangely I'm also immensely turned on by the whole thing. This must be what it feels like to be naughty. I'd never really been naughty before. I'd always kind of envied girls who were more uninhibited than me. Years telling David that I was perfectly happy and fulfilled, but I'm human too. Why have I always suppressed my ideas of threesomes, fucking strangers, wild screaming sex? I know this isn't may not be right, but I didn't look for this situation. I've never cheated on David and suddenly here I am, as hot and horny as hell with an "unidentified fucking object" inside me, and a naked potential stranger in front of me. The humour of it all strikes me and makes me giggle silently to myself... I must still be quite drunk.

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