Brandon waged an intense internal debate. Should he follow his impulses and let them go at it? Or should he stop it now before they all did something they may later regret? And what did Chelsea want? She never specifically said to stop. Did she want to have sex with him? She’s certainly enjoyed herself so far. And how would Russ react if he said no. Every hormone and thought in his body and mind was screaming at him to let it continue. Looking down at his wife, he saw her face flushed with arousal, desire and… fear? Realizing he had to make a decision and now, he made one.
Brandon looked toward Russ. Hesitating at first for a second, he finally shook his head. Russ gave a knowing, albeit disappointed, nod and pulled back. Chelsea’s pussy closed. Her head fell back, a relieved expression coming onto her face.
“I…. uh… I think it’s about time fer me to head off to bed,” Russ said sheepishly.
“Yeah,” Brandon croaked out of his dry throat, “us too.” The old man stood up, took in one more look at the naked woman laying on his couch, and turned to lumber off to his bedroom. After he closed the door, Chelsea sat up, grabbed her husband’s hand and led them out the door. She walked quickly in front of him, never letting go of his hand the whole way home. As soon as they entered their house and shut the door, she wrapped her arms around him tightly.
Brandon wasn’t quite sure what to do. He couldn’t see the expression on her face. It was dark and she had buried her face in his chest. So, he just held her. ‘What do I even say to her after all that?’ He wrestled with the question, failing. “You okay?” He finally asked. Chelsea stood there still clinging, still silent. Uncounted minutes passed.
“I’m sorry.” was all she said, quietly. She then turned and walked to their bedroom without another word.
To be continued…