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My wife has a high school friend named Azra, who lives about 500 miles away from us. I’d never met her, but I’d seen pictures of her when my wife would chat with her on Facebook. Those pictures showed a very pretty girl with a nice body, so it was no wonder she caught herself a rich husband. And from what my wife would tell me, she lived a fairytale life. Except, fairytales aren’t real and real life doesn’t always have happy endings. That’s because her prince had a dark side filled with drugs, alcohol and gambling. And, after drinking and especially after losing large amounts of money gambling, he would physically abuse his princess. The last time he did that, she spent almost a month in the hospital recovering.
When she filed for her divorce, she needed somewhere to stay until it was over. She couldn’t go to her family, because they always sent her back to him when she tried. Her marriage had benefited her family too much financially and they’d lose it all if she got a divorce. They were way too selfish to let her happiness get in the way of theirs. And, all of her friends were afraid of what her husband’s money could do to them if they tried to help her. All of them that is except my wife. Since I’m an American, and work for the US government, there wasn’t much he could do to us. And, because of the political fallout, he wouldn’t dare try anyway. So, naturally, Azra ended up moving in with us for the duration of her divorce.
You’d think I’d be happy having another beautiful woman in the house, and you’d be wrong. That’s because they totally destroy the routines of your life. Any time you have overnight guests, there’s some disruptions. For example, you can’t walk around the house in your underwear, or even run to the toilet at 2 am like that. And forget about coming out of the shower wrapped in a towel. You really can’t even run around shirtless to be honest, you have to be fully dressed at all times. And not only do you have to close the bathroom door, you have to lock it too, to prevent accidental walk ins. Plus there are etiquette issues, like watching your language and being careful about your body noises. But these are things you have to do no matter who the guest is.
When the guest is a beautiful woman, the list of prohibited activities gets a lot longer. You can’t be alone with them in the same room. You can’t talk to them like a normal person because it might constitute flirting. And, you have to be extremely careful where your eyes are looking at all times. The last thing in the world you want is for your wife to start thinking you have some kind of sexual interest in their guest. That’s the quickest way there is to end up sitting next to your guest’s husband in divorce court. So, you have to walk around on eggshells the entire time your guest is there.
Speaking of sex, having a guest, particularly a pretty female guest, has a seriously detrimental effect on your love life. No cuddling on the couch kissing, no grabbing your wife from behind in the kitchen, and no touching at all where the guest can see. And, when they are guests who will be staying an extended length of time, no sex at all for at least the first week. That’s because your wife doesn’t feel comfortable making love with someone else in the house. And when you do finally start doing it again, you have to be very quiet about it. I mean, imagine the shame if your guest finds out that a married couple actually has sex in their own bed in their own house.
Having Azra living with us was even more frustrating than a normal guest would be. That’s because she didn’t follow the same rules, and my wife wouldn’t let me say anything because of what Azra was going through. For example, when I was home from work, she’d usually be dressed in skimpy shorts and tight shirts that made it obvious she wasn’t wearing either underwear or a bra. And on weekends, when I was up late at night, she’d run around in nightgowns that left even less to the imagination. Plus, she’d come to the breakfast table wearing those same almost transparent gowns. She had no problem leaving the shower wearing only a short towel. But, she did have a problem remembering to lock the bathroom door when she was in there, and there were a few accidents when she didn’t answer my knock. And while I didn’t think they were deliberate acts at the time, the effect was the same as if they had been.
If you’re asking why I’m only talking about things that might cause sexual tension, that’s simple. The biggest problem with having Azra living with us was the sexual tension she created. On the one hand, you have Azra dressing in ways that are definitely provocative, and leaving opportunities to catch her completely naked. On the other hand, you have my wife not taking care of my sexual needs, at the same time she’s telling me to allow Azra to do these things. Then on top of it, for the first week at least, she kept telling me not to look at her when she was dressed like that, and to leave the beylikdüzü escort room if I couldn’t avoid it. But at the same time, she was getting upset by me ignoring our guest, and not looking at her when I talked to her. But, by the second week, she’d realized the impossibility of meeting both her demands, and after that only got mad if I stared.
It was also at the end of the first week that the other problem with Azra started. Our walls are not paper thin, but still we started hearing the unmistakable sounds of someone having orgasms late at night. Its ironic that my wife was afraid to make love because our guest might hear, but our guest had no qualms about us hearing her masturbate at least three nights a week. Naturally, the sounds would arouse me, but if I made any advances on my wife, she’d go ballistic. That’s because she felt my arousal was the result of me fantasizing about our guest. But after a week of listening to that, she at least agreed that we could make love on the nights Azra wasn’t playing with herself. As for her accusation though, it was unfortunately true, because even on the nights she didn’t masturbate I couldn’t help but think about her as my wife and I made love.
As our guest’s first month was coming to an end, I started noticing a subtle change in her behavior. It seemed to me that she was more openly displaying her charms when I was around, almost like she was flirting with me. I mean, she would lean closer to me when talking, sort of inviting me to look down at her tits. And, she was constantly doing things that required her to bend over where I could get a good view of her ass. And it seemed that she answered my knocks on the bathroom door ever so much slower, increasing the likelihood of an accidental viewing. But when I mentioned this to my wife, she just put it off to Azra becoming more comfortable around me, not to flirting.
It all came to a head one Saturday, at about the six week mark. My wife had a photography seminar she needed to attend, that would keep her away for several hours. I was on my computer as usual, and I thought Azra was in the living room watching weekend gossip shows. But, in the middle of my game, I felt someone softly run their fingers along the back of my neck. And when I turned around, there was Azra, asking if I could help her with something. When I asked what it was, she told me she needed to show me, and asked me to come to her room. As soon as I did, she wrapped her arms around me, and whispered in my ear that she had an itch in her pussy she needed me to scratch.
When I told her I couldn’t, she started rubbing my dick through my pants and telling me how horny she was, and how tired she was of playing with herself. She needed me to make love to her, right now, or else she’d go crazy. She wanted me inside her, and she knew by the way I watched her that I wanted her too. That’s why she’d been showing more of herself lately, to tell me I was hers for the taking. And when I still insisted I couldn’t do it, she dropped to her knees and started working on my zipper, begging me to at least let her suck my cock then. At this point, I knew I had to put a stop to it before it went too far and I ended up fucking her. So, I pushed her away, loudly told her to leave me the fuck alone, then stormed out of the room.
At first I figured the crying sounds I heard from her room were a ploy to get me to go back and do what she wanted. But, she was still crying when my wife came home a couple of hours later. Naturally, my wife asked me what had happened, and although I didn’t expect her to believe me, I told her. Of course, she immediately went in to talk to Azra to hear her side of the story. Azra surprised me by admitting everything, which still didn’t get me off the hook. Because after my wife was finished talking to Azra, she came out and started on me. She said that I knew how sensitive Azra was right now, so why did I have to be so rough on her? I told her it was the only way to stop her, or should I have just fucked her like she wanted me to? My wife said of course not, but I hadn’t needed to push her away and yell at her like I did. She said I should have found a more gentle way to do it, but she had no suggestions for how I was supposed to have done that.
Things got worse after that, much worse. That night, Azra masturbated herself as usual, so we thought things might be back to normal. But immediately after her orgasm, she started crying again, and my wife had to go comfort her. I heard them talking, but couldn’t hear what they were saying, and I eventually fell asleep. I woke again when my wife returned a couple of hours later, but she just said we’d talk in the morning. Azra did come out for breakfast, but it was obvious she hadn’t gotten much sleep. And, she refused to look at me, or answer my good morning, instead she finished eating then locked herself in her room for the rest of the day. That gave my wife and I plenty of time to discuss what beylikduzu escort had happened and what they’d talked about all night.
According to my wife, Azra and her husband had had a pretty active sex life when he wasn’t abusing her. So, she was used to making love at least 4 or 5 times a week. And, whenever he hit her, he’d made it up to her by catering to her every sexual whim for the next several days. Of course, having been used to having sex that often, being without it now and being horny all the time, just added to the stress she was under. With me being the only male around, and because I was fairly handsome, some of her sexual frustration resulted in her fantasizing about me. And because I treated her nicely and obviously enjoyed looking at her, she’d thought I wanted her. So, in her confused and vulnerable state, she’d tried to get the love she desperately needed, from me.
If I had found some kinder way to reject her, she would have realized her mistake and maybe stopped trying. But, by pushing her away and yelling at her, I reminded her of the violence she was escaping with this divorce. So now, since it always happened that way before, she was waiting for the man who hurt her to come kiss it better. That’s why she had cried after she finished playing with herself, because her husband hadn’t come to make up for what he’d done to her. Yes, she knew that I wasn’t her husband, and that I hadn’t been trying to hurt her. And she knew I couldn’t come to her and make up with her the way her husband did. But that didn’t stop her emotions from running wild, and it didn’t stop her from crying.
I told her that what Azra needed was some other man in her life, and my wife reminded me of how impossible that was. Azra was more or less a prisoner in our house until this was over. Because, it was a certain guarantee that her husband had men waiting to kidnap her if she stepped one foot outside our door. Then he’d make sure she was kept somewhere that she couldn’t get away from him again. As long as they were still legally married, and her relatives refused to press charges, the police wouldn’t get involved. As for bringing a man to the house, that was just as bad in a way. That’s because her husband would have pictures could use against her in court, and she would get nothing. And she desperately needed the money she’d get from the divorce to leave the country and start a new life elsewhere.
My wife changed the subject then, saying she’d wanted to say something the night before, but couldn’t. She wanted to know why I hadn’t just given Azra what she wanted. She’d seen me look at her sometimes, and knew I must have thought about it. No, she wasn’t saying this because she was angry at me for looking. After the first week, with the way Azra ran around the house, she realized it was impossible for me not to look. But with a pretty girl like that offering me the things Azra had offered me, how was I able to resist? I told her it was simple. All I did was picture my balls hanging from her rear view mirror when she found out, and it was very easy to tell Azra no. My wife laughed and told me not to forget that picture, then said she had some things that might help Azra control her urges. She was going to give Azra her collection of toys, especially her rabbit, and that should keep her too busy to chase me anymore.
If the number and volume level of Azra’s orgasms that night were any indication, she definitely enjoyed my wife’s toys. And yes, I had pictures floating through my head of what she looked like as she used them. But, they didn’t achieve their intended purpose, because as soon as those orgasms were finished Azra was back to crying again. And, as she had done the night before, my wife had to go comfort her. And its quite possible that giving Azra the toys, especially the rabbit, had been a mistake. Because while her masturbation sessions used to be maybe three times a week, now they were every night. And all of them were followed by the crying that my wife would have to go comfort. And even though my wife didn’t work, it was obvious that these late night comforting sessions were taking a toll on her.
Almost two weeks went by before my wife just couldn’t take it anymore. Every night she’d have to go comfort Azra, and every night the reason was the same. Even though Azra knew in her mind that she didn’t need it, her heart was still waiting for someone to come and kiss the pain away. It wasn’t a physical thing, she didn’t need the orgasms, especially with my wife’s toys, it was an emotional need. And all the comforting my wife was doing was just enough to get Azra to eventually fall asleep each night. And the amount of time and effort it took to do that was killing her. And like I said, that Friday night, my wife just couldn’t take it anymore.
So this time, when Azra started crying, my wife turned to me and told me to go to her. I told her she was crazy, because we both knew what would happen if I escort beylikdüzü did. And we both knew that she didn’t want that to happen. She said I was right, she didn’t want that to happen. What she really wanted to do was throw her out of the house, but that would be just like killing her ourselves. She couldn’t do that because she really cared about Azra, but she couldn’t take another long night of comforting her either. We both knew that it was my almost violent rejection of her that had caused her emotional breakdown. And we both knew what she needed to calm her down, and that I was the only one who could give it to her. So, could I please just go and do what I had to do to shut her up? I asked her one last time if she was really sure about this, because I didn’t want my balls hanging from her mirror. And she just said for me to please go, and to try not to enjoy it too much.
When I went into Azra’s room, the crying was much louder than it had been from our room. But that crying ceased almost immediately when I sat on the bed and placed my hand on her back. She knew right away that it wasn’t my wife’s touch, and she was turned around and in my arms in the blink of an eye. Then she was kissing me and trying to get my pajamas off as quickly as possible. I pried her away as gently as I could and told her to slow down, because I would be here all night if she needed me. But, while I’d hold her and touch her, and even kiss her if she needed it, I’d rather we didn’t make love.
Her reaction to that was to start crying again about the fact that I didn’t want her. I did the kissing this time, even if it was just her forehead, then pulled her into my arms. I told her that it wasn’t about not wanting her, she was beautiful and any man would want her. But, my being here was hurting my wife, and us making love would hurt her even more. She asked why my wife had let me come to her then, if my being here hurt her. And I told her it was because we both knew that she was in even more pain than that, and I was here to ease that pain. So, what I’d rather do was give her a nice massage to help her relax, then hold her in my arms while she slept. Would she mind if we tried that, instead of doing things that would hurt my wife more than we needed to?
She was obviously disappointed, but she’s not a bitch, no matter how screwed up she was emotionally. So she agreed to try that and hoped it would be enough to stop what was bothering her. But she did have one request, if it wouldn’t hurt my wife too much, could she take off her nightgown for this? She was on the verge of tears as she said that even if I couldn’t make love to her, she needed to feel my touch on her, not her clothes. Even professionals did it while you were naked, so it wouldn’t count as sex. And I could turn my back while she undressed if I felt I had to. Could I at least let her have that much, please? And there was so much desperation in her eyes that there was no way I could refuse.
I did turn my back while she slid out of her gown and lay down, but I might as well have watched her. That’s because just seeing what showed as she lay on her stomach was enough to bring my cock to life. I have a thing for women’s asses, and from what I’d seen of Azra over the past two months, I knew she had a nice one. Seeing it in tight shorts though, or catching glimpses through her nightgown, was nothing compared to seeing it now. My hands itched to touch it, and my mouth ached to kiss and lick it in the worst way. But while my wife had told me to do whatever it took to stop Azra from crying every night, I’d promised myself I wouldn’t let it go that far. So, I controlled my desires the best I could and concentrated on giving Azra a massage and only a massage.
According to my wife, my massages are one of the reasons she married me. The other reason was my tongue, but as I said, I’d promised myself I wasn’t going to go there. So I showed her all the skill I could with my hands on her back. And, while this was supposed to be for her emotional health, she needed it just as much physically. Her neck and upper back were nothing but knots of tension that even someone less skilled than me could feel. As soon as I started working on her, you could feel the stress leaving her body. On the other hand, the massage had the exact opposite effect on me. That’s because what makes me good at it is that giving a massage is almost as sensual to me as receiving one is to most people.
What I mean is that giving my wife a massage has always been a prelude to sex for us. I don’t do it every time we make love, but every time I do it, we end up making love. I hadn’t thought about that part of it when I offered to give Azra a massage. Oh, I’d thought about how sensual it would be for Azra, since it would be somewhat like making love to her without actually making love. And I’d figured that the closer I could come to that without actually doing it, the better it would be for her. But I hadn’t stopped to think what running my hands in a near sexual manner over her beautiful body would do to me. Even avoiding the really dangerous areas, after an hour and a half of massaging her, not only were my hands and arms sore, I also had a serious aching in my balls.
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