Chapter 116 I am with my wife but I want Emma’s pussy

Chapter 116 I am with my wife but I want Emma’s pussy
Knox

The moment my wife’s lips touches mine, I feel really bad inside. It is not the kind of feeling that I used to have when we first got married and I could not wait to be with her. 

Now it just feels like someone is squeezing my chest. I have to keep breathing. Her mouth is warm and familiar. It feels wrong. All I can think about is how soft Emma's lips were twenty minutes ago, how they trembled when I kissed her deeper, how she tasted like she felt guilty and wanted me at the time.

I kiss my wife back because I have to. If I stop she will know that something is wrong and the last thing I need is for her to ask me questions. 

Her hands slide under my shirt, her nails dragging lightly down my back the way she knows I like. I let her pull my shirt over my head. 

My body is moving on its own. My shirt is gone, my belt is unbuckled. My pants go down. 

She pulls me down on top of her, her legs wrapping around my waist like she is trying to keep me. I settle between her thighs, our skin touching and for a second I close my eyes so I do not have to look at her face. 

That is when I start thinking about Emma. I see Emma instead. Emma's soft hair is on the pillow. Her eyes are half-closed and her lips are succulent. 

As she whispers my name,I hear Emma's voice instead.

My imagination feels so real. It almost hurts.

My wife moans softly when I thrust inside her. The sound irritates me but I can't do anything to stop her.

All it does is make me feel empty. I move slowly at first giving her what she wants, moving my hips in the way we used to. My hands are on her waist, my thumbs are pressing into her skin. I do not feel anything except my own guilt.

In my mind I am not here. I am back in that room down the hall. Emma's legs are hooked over my shoulders. Her fingers are in my hair pulling hard enough to hurt. 

The way she gasped when I was deeper inside her, like she could not believe how good it felt. I remember the way her thighs were shaking, the way her back was arched, how wet she was and how every time I moved in and out, made her say my name again and again.

My wife's hands are on my face now, cupping my cheeks, making me look at her. "Baby," she whispers, her voice thick with want. "Look at me."

I open my eyes. Her face is red, her lips are swollen from kissing and her eyes are glassy. She is beautiful. She has always been beautiful.

Right now she could be anyone. My body keeps moving and my hips keep rolling. My mind is somewhere else. I imagine Emma's face under me instead. 

Those big eyes are staring up, wide and trusting even though we both know this is wrong. I imagine her biting her lip to keep quiet so no one hears us. I imagine the way she clenches around me when she is close, like she is afraid I will pull out before she finishes.

My wife's breathing gets faster. She is getting close to orgasm. Her nails dig into my shoulders, her hips lifting to meet every thrust.

"Harder " she says, almost begging. I give it to her. I go deeper and faster, trying to lose myself in the motion so I do not have to think.

The harder I go, the more I picture Emma. Emma's moans are music to my ears. Her body excites me in a way. As she says my name like a prayer, not like a demand.

I hate myself for this. My wife is the one who wears my ring, the one who shares my bed every night, the one who still looks at me like I am worth something.

Here I am, inside her while I pretend she is someone else. The shame is burning inside me. But it doesn't stop me. 

My wife's legs tighten around me. She is close now. I can feel it in the way her body grips me harder. She buries her face in my neck panting against my skin. "Knox... Oh God..." Her voice breaks on my name. 

She comes hard, trembling under me, her nails raking down my back hard enough to leave marks.

I keep moving with hard thrusts because that is what a good husband would do. 

When her shaking slows and her grip loosens, I let myself cum too. It hits fast, but I felt so empty. 

I spill my cum inside her with a grunt. My face pressed to the pillow so she cannot see my expression. 

I felt no rush of pleasure, no relief. Just the same heavy feeling that has been sitting on me for weeks.

I roll off her carefully, lying on my back and  staring at the ceiling. 

She curls into my side, her head on my chest and one leg thrown over mine like nothing has changed. 

Her breathing evens out quickly. She is already drifting to sleep, satisfied and happy. I can feel her smile against my skin.

I didn't move. I just lie there, my heart still pounding hard, my skin cooling too fast. 

The smell of sex fills the room again. This time it makes me feel sick. Not because of my wife. Because I know I will go back to Emma's room the chance I get. 

I know I will do it again and again.The worst part is, I do not even want to stop.

My wife is asleep, in my arms and all I can think about is Emma.

I close my eyes. Waiting for the guilt to fade. But it did not fade.