The Very Welcome Guest

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“Out of eggs darling. Popping to the shop, I’ll be two minutes.” My wife said, as she walked out of the kitchen, slipping on her summer denim jacket, and kissing me on the lips.
“Bye” I replied as I returned her brief, polite peck.

I watched her turn and walk away. By the time her hand was even on the handle, Cristina had already begun rising slowly from her chair. She had been sitting in the large arm chair just a few metres from where I had been standing. As my wife was walking through the doorway the distance between us was already closing. As it swung shut we bounded toward each other, hearing the locking mechanism clunking shut as our lips met.

“She won’t be gone long” Cristina moaned into my mouth as her hand drifted intently downwards from my chest, down the ridges of my stomach, and to my jeans, where it snaked over the denim surface and grabbed at the stiffening form of my shaft. Hearing my wife’s footsteps disappear at the end of the drive way, mentally seeing her turning right, and heading down past the bus stop, I knew she would be at the store in about another 50 seconds.

Grasping Cristina, pulling her tight against me, pressing her firm large breasts against my torso, “God… We don’t have long enough” clenching her tort little bottom in my large hand, one of her legs wrapping around mine as her fingers stroked relentlessly at my cock. Cristina was intoxicating, and I just couldn’t resist. Pulling back just the tiniest bit, I lifted her t-shirt and popped up her bra. She smiled as her breasts were freed and my hand gravitated to them. Breaking our kiss, my tongue hungrily ventured to her neck, over the rise of the pushed up clothing and my lips and mouth found their prize, clasping onto Cristina’s beautiful pointed nipple.

This was risky, reckless and undoubtedly stupid of us. But it was exciting. As she clasped my head to her bosom, for just a few short moments, there was no one except us in the world. Kissing, fondling and pressing together. But the moment was short lived. From the end of the path, the first footsteps soon came. Quickly jumping back, I watched in awe as Cristina almost magically prised her breasts back into the silky bra, and pulled down her top, in barely the blink of an eye. Knowing the path to take at least 30 seconds, I grasped Cristina one last time “Fuck, I can’t wait to get you to myself!” crudely flattening my whole large hand over the crotch of her jeans, gently squeezing at her pussy. Hearing the steps nearer the door now, and the sound of jingling keys, I gave Cristina a quick peck on the lips and ran to the bathroom.

Time to breathe, time to straighten out my hair, a moment of calm to get rid of the erection that Cristina had left me with. And any excuse not to be there when my wife came in. I’m not used to this game of deception. I love my wife. Really, I do, although it may not seem it. I can’t even claim neglect. Sarah and I still have a healthy sex life. Ok, the all night sessions and the quickies, and that feeling of urgency may have gone, but we still enjoy great sex, on a healthy frequency. 9 years together has made us companions and best friends, but our lives as lovers is certainly not over yet. But with Cristina, well, the whole thing was an accident to be quite honest. Sitting for a moment on the side of the bath I thought back to how she’d got here. A good friend of mine, owns a large company with offices near here. He phoned me saying he had just taken on this American lady, Cristina.

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