Fugue State (Version 4.1)
I sucked gleefully on Michael's cock as he rammed it to the back of my throat. His hands guided my head along his length as I licked it with my tongue, enjoying every minute. Michelle pierced my cunt with a strap-on and grasped my wrists. She kept me on my knees, helpless against their assaults.
As the duo ravished my body, a feeling of dread overcame me. Had I forgotten something of life-or-death importance? Within moments the feeling dissipated.
Once again, I succumbed to the pleasure. They handled me like a filthy piece of meat, grasping my flesh and abusing my holes. Licking the penetrating cock, I thrust my hips in rhythm. I had never felt more satisfied and full than at that moment.
I worked Michael's cock until it erupted in my mouth. That feeling of dread returned, yet this time, it festered. Suddenly, I realized my tragedy.
Memories of my husband and children flooded back, along with memories of my spontaneous desertion.
I panicked and let loose a muffled scream. My lovers loosened their grip. I crumbled onto the bed in shock as
Mike's cum blasted across my face.
(Calling him Mike here is out of place.)
He leaned down and shook me with terror in his eyes. "Rachel! Rachel, what's wrong?"
How did this happen? How could I abandon my family for a life of blissful hedonism?
Michelle screamed in
fear. "Rayche, oh my
God, are you okay?" She began to sob.
(I really like Michelle's use of a nickname. It's very appropriate and lends an aura of closeness between them.)
(Screaming isn't speaking. A ".", period, ends that sentence before she speaks. And God, as in the Lord, gets a capital G. If you were speaking of a mythical god or goddess, then a lowercase g may be used.)
Crying in a pool of cum, I accepted my horrible mistake.