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The following is fiction, intended to entertain. If it doesn’t, by all means erase, exit or otherwise eliminate it from your life, as is your right. If I offend or disturb you in anyway I am sorry, for that is not my intention. If by chance, I make you smile, or maybe stir in your seat, well, you’ll be getting a touch of what I felt while writing this story. And that’s exactly why I wrote it. Thank you sincerely, for your precious time.
* * * * *
The woman was insatiable! Facing me in my lap, she arched her back and hips to settle as far as was physically possible onto my horny dick, forcing her loins onto mine and sucking me into her as if she’d die without me buried up to her throat. If that wasn’t enough, she had her heels behind and against my butt, pulling me deeper into her. The combination brought her body down and around my cock like a hungry animal, devouring me whole.
“More, damnit!” She gushed, driving faster and harder as if to suck the rest of me inside her. “Fuck me damnit! Here! Suck on these! Bite me!” She shoved one of her gorgeous tits in my face and got no argument from me. I vacuumed in the massive mammary, thinking just an inch more and I could swallow the fleshy thing. Soon her nipple was scrapping the back of my throat and my mouth was full of breast.
“Yeah! Take it! Come on! Bite it!” She accented every command with another thrust of her hips and I was beginning to wonder if I was going to make it.
Her hair was reddish brown, short, and soft. It was natural colored for it matched her eyebrows, and the small “V” patch of hair currently plastered and wet up against my abdomen. She had applied lipstick to match, but that was long since gone, wiped away by the contact of our hungry mouths. Her extremely white skin beckoned my touch and accentuated as perfect a body as any man could ask for.
“Oh God!” She shouted.
Finally! I thought! She was going to cum. I really needed the break. I gave my sperm engine some free rein and started my flight with her. Humping my ass up in vain managed little more than a near painful mashing of our pubic bones.
“Oh God YES! Fuck me” She squealed in delight as the first wave of lustful inebriation washed over her and flowed over to me. I fucked her back, erupting with my first ejaculation, and that just triggered another, larger convulsion from her. Completing the circle, she fired back with a gush of hot liquid, some of which escaped around my shaft and dribbled down on my balls.
Soon her liquid mixed with mine and the messy goo that seeped free became hot and sticky on my groin, dripping all the way down my crack. We bucked and fucked for several more cycles of fluid exchange and put every ounce of energy into it. Perhaps another minute went by, fucking, sucking and spurting through it all, before we finally sighed in unison and sank down into the mattress together.
“Oh, my God. Oh my God.” She fell into me and let me have the responsibility of holding us up. “Why can’t it be like this at home?”
There could be no question of what had taken place, beyond the obvious I mean. She had used me, or my body, to satisfy a longstanding need, a need for release in the worst way, a need that was previously frustrated beyond acceptable limits. I used her the same way, of course, and both of us were reveling in the aftermath of a fantasy finally realized.
We met months before in a chat room, “Married and looking,” with her PM’ing me. I have found that women are so hammered by male PM’ers it seldom works as a way to greet and meet. They simply cannot handle all the many influences at once. The best, and most lasting contacts I have had in chat were initiated by women. But none of them had turned out anything like this.
“Hi,” Was her simple greeting at the time.
“Hi urself,” Was my brilliant retort. There was nothing further for a minute while we each looked up each other’s profiles. She was thirty-eight and married with two kids and living near Boston. I was married, a few years older, and with one in high school and the other ready to go there. We had both been frank about our marital status, not caring to hide we were frustrated with spousal arousal. “Married and Looking” was why we were there. We shared those frustrations for an hour on that first chatting occasion, discovering an astounding number of similarities, but aren’t most “married and looking’s” the same?
We talked several times after that, each feeling our way around the other, and the new medium for making it easier to cheat. It was agreed that our spousal relationships had drifted apart, concerned with careers or kids or both, and we each admitted that maybe we were the ones drifting, not our spouses. The frankness and openness was erotic in its own way, but the fantasies we shared were down right bodacious.
On the surface, we were both frustrated with the infrequency of sex. Neither of us had yet strayed, but we were both ready and willing. The worst case scenario was being discovered, agreeing with our spouse to last until our kids bahis firmaları left home, and then splitting up. Given the level of yearning, it seemed a lot easier to talk about than to live out. At some point during the chats, we seemed to venture into territory so familiar, we agreed to meet.
Great pains were taken to ensure each party had a simple and un-hurtful way to back out of the first encounter with no recriminations. We finally felt comfortable with our plans and took the plunge at a Denny’s outside Framingham, far enough from the city to not be recognized. It was also a neutral place we could part from at anytime and end the experiment, no questions asked.
The Denny’s portion of our clandestine acquaintance lasted all of fifteen minutes. There was an awkward couple of minutes at the start, but we got through the surprise and pushed forward in our roles. She was drop dead gorgeous by my terms, a pretty face, wide shoulders and no wisp of a girl. She must have felt similarly about me for we hardly finished a cup of coffee when she said, “We need to go to the next step.”
I paid the bill and we moved our “married but looking” encounter to the hotel room I had standing by. Some frantic disrobing and an embrace that lasted long minutes ensued and that’s how we got to where we are, spent, satisfied, perhaps each a bit guilty, but both smiling more broadly than either of us had in a long time.
“You feel sooo good inside me.” Her words were almost as sexy as her tone. She was drop dead HOT! Her breasts were full, a “D” cup easily, but so firm! And there were no scars, they were real.
“I sure do!” I said, stealing her meaning for my use as well. We hugged tightly and savored the moment. Her pussy was wrapped firmly around my shaft, and I could feel her playing with it, contracting her muscles and then letting them go. I swear, if we weren’t so wrapped up in the newness of this meeting I would have suggested she try to get us off that way, a process I could amply assist with pulses of my pole.
I looked down at her fine breasts and ran my nose over them. I let my face drop down their front to suck teasingly on their nipples, then ride back up and leave the nipples hardening, waiting for my return. “Your tits are as beautiful, as firm and delicious as any I could imagine. Do you know that?” I looked up at her, smiling back.
“Thank you. I like it when you talk to me. Please never stop.” She pulled my head along side hers and we hugged tight again.
“Happy you came?” I asked, “Any regrets?”
“Are you kidding? This was better than I could have imagined! Oh no. No regrets,” She tilted her head away to see my eyes, “Only hunger.” She began a slow rocking motion on my lap.
I rocked with her a few times, but wanted to try other things. Neither one of us had had another partner since we’d been married. We both had agendas on our wish lists.
“Hold your breasts for me,” I said, leaning back but keeping my hands around her behind her to support her.
She let her hands come out from behind me and find their way under the flesh of her tits. Then she lifted them, the way she remembered me speaking on the “net,” and she held them in her hands, feeding them out from her chest toward my face.
“Oh, baby, they are sooooo beautiful.” I leaned in after a long look and fed on the nipple of one, then the other. I learned something else about this woman too, for each time I nibbled on a nipple; she twitched in my lap. That sent sensations right up my cock and spine, causing me to nibble again, a bit harder. I could tell instinctively when I reached the point of maximum stimulation, and we rocked in unison as we explored the technique for several minutes.
During a pause in the action, I heard, “I want to suck you.”
The words hit me like a train. I wasn’t expecting them. The boldness was exhilarating, my cock slick with our juices. It was another dream we had shared early on. And if there was any lingering fear of feeling guilty, it was long gone now. I thought, “Fuck guilt!”
“I’d like that, as long as it’s reciprocal,” I said, feeling a bit awkward with the words, but not at all with the anticipation of the deed.
She looked down at my face and asked, “Are you sure?”
In answer, I rocked us onto the bed, her on her back, me still inserted in her sopping cunt. Between her wetness and my jiz, she was a lake, damned inside, waiting to burst forth. She let her knees fall to the sides with her heels pulled up under her ass. I realized she did this to accommodate one of our previous discussions, to devour each other in the most blatant and uninhibited ways. The position would keep her hips turned up, and my jiz inside her until I came and got it. The recognition on both our faces as our eyes met was so full of anticipation our hearts were beating loud enough for each other to hear.
I slowly withdrew my slippery shaft from her hole. As the head cleared her swollen lips, I felt a string of our sticky mix extend from me to her like a spider weaving a web, kaçak iddaa and I was careful to rise as vertically as possible. Spilling even a drop away from its intended destination would have lessened the experience.
Once the goo let go and snapped back down on her slit, I quickly but carefully stepped over my captive “SugarGirl” and reversed our headings. She hungrily drew my cock down to her mouth, and into her throat, sucking down my spunk, and hers with it.
I dropped my head to within a few inches of her wet twat and gazed upon my next meal, really my first ever of “his and hers”. The aroma was thick with sex and it combined quickly with the sensations in my cock to drive my head down on her swollen lips. In seconds I was no longer tentatively tasting, but eagerly devouring our work. I had tasted my sperm before, but never really gulped in a bunch like this. Now that I had, and it was mixed with her cum fluids too, I felt like kicking myself in the ass for never trying it before. I wondered if she was as happy about cleaning the same concoction off my shaft.
I used my hands on her ass to spread her cheeks and ready them for my next move. When I leaned closer, I felt my SugarGirl stiffen slightly, then relax again, a signal I took to proceed with what we had discussed online. I pulled my mouth from her pussy with a full load of mixed cum and dropped to her asshole where I proceeded to force the load back insider her.
She squealed around my cock and jolted her hips up at my face. “Oh God!” There was a gurgle as she was trying to talk with her mouth full of my meat. “That’s so good!”
I smiled. I agreed. It was like squirting a water stream through my lips. When the pressure was sufficient, the stream burst through her tightened sphincter and spewed the fluid insider the hollow of her ass. Then the sphincter closed again, un-stretched by fingers or any other intrusion, and held the hot liquid inside.
“But save some!” She gurgled again and sucked my cock harder into her throat. I felt her practicing another maneuver we’d talked about, trying to deep throat my shaft. And judging from the increasing pressure on the head of my dick, she was getting closer and closer to accomplishing her goal.
While she worked at it, I went back to her tunnel of my jiz and sucked some more out. I kept sucking until I had what I thought was a proper mouthful, and then lifted my hips and quickly shifted my body back to an orientation with hers. Without hesitation I scooted my legs under hers again, pulled her back up in my lap, and drilled my cock deep up insider her pussy. Then we paused, looked squarely in each other’s eyes, and when she nodded, we brought our mouths together.
For the next several minutes we fucked slowly and swished our tongues around in each other’s throats, tasting, swallowing bits and pieces, and thoroughly enjoying each other’s fruits. At one point, she pulled back, drooled a little of the liquid on her tits, then rubbed it around, before bringing us back together. On several breaks in this action, I would bend my neck and lick the remaining stuff off her tits and bring it back to our little cum shuffling party. The entire experience was more than I had dreamed, and judging from SugarGirl’s participation, she was having a time of it too.
We used up the fluids eventually, and while she came three more times, I came once more and we both were reaching a point of what I would call intermediate exhaustion, defined by the inability to function sexually for at least a couple hours. “Come on,” She said suddenly, “Let’s get clean before we get really dirty!”
She was bubbling like a little kid and that made me laugh with glee. Not only was she enjoying this, but she was just as eager for more as I was, though perhaps not near as close to exhaustion as I.
Finally, the fantasies were coming true. In all those lonely midnight wakeups next to my wife, I would half-dream of fresh tits and ass at my beck and call, totally uninhibited. The bodies and minds would be immersed in a challenge of exploration and discovery, where everything was doable. It was just the real life body and mind that remained frustrated. She must have felt a touch of the same for suddenly I found myself being dragged by the hand to the bathroom. It was too early for this fantasy to end!
The shower steamed up quickly and soon we were sitting in the tub, full of soap suds from a bubbles intensive potion she had brought with her. We’d talked about this kind of luxury and she’d insisted on converting me from a “shower guy” to a “bubble bath guy”. By the time this one was over, she might just do it.
The first thing I felt when her hands disappeared beneath the foot high layer of bubbles above the warm, half full bath was her touch on my cock. The slick moving hands glided up my shaft and back down, while her other hand caressed my balls just as smoothly. I fought to keep from letting my eyes close and plastered a mound of bubbles up against her tits. She loved the feeling and rolled her eyes, but kept kaçak bahis working on my dick.
We caressed each other like this for some time, luxuriating in the warm bath and company of each other’s bodies. Occasionally we pinched or tweaked at one thing or another daring to look directly at the parts we were manipulating. We were kids in the tub, experimenting with each other’s bodies, learning, teasing, playing. We laughed, and on occasion, uttered an “ouch” or an “easy.” It was all part of the long suppressed learning process.
We were both surprised at how much easier it was to explore an unknown body, than to try to do so with all the other burdens of spousal familiarity at home. Here, there were no inhibitions, no recriminations, no images to live up to, only bodies to exploit. We had put the world on “Pause,” while we stopped to look around. We were not about emotional satisfaction, or even emancipation. This was smelling the roses, inside and out.
I felt the first finger enter my ass abruptly. Perhaps she had wanted to make sure I didn’t back out at the last second, or maybe she was afraid of backing out if she didn’t move decisively. In either case, she smiled as her finger slid in, and I smiled as it felt so good having her inside me. “Another,” I whispered in her ear.
She slipped a second finger up my ass, her mouth open now to expand her intake of air. I held my knees high and squirmed, the feeling of my ass impaled on her fingers nearly too good to be true. I contracted my sphincter muscle and pulled on her fingers, and smiled my appreciation of her touch and the pressure she was exerting up my ass.
“So you do like that, a lot.” She whispered, twisting and rotating her fingers around to stimulate the ring.
“More than you can know.” I said with a somewhat raspy breath.
“Maybe not.” She said. This surprised me for she had told me when we met she did not like anal sex, and had never tried it. I told her she was like a little kid who refused to eat something new, despite not knowing what it tasted like. She simply said “No,” in return, and I left it at that. But now, she seemed to be hinting of changing her mind, unless I was mistaken.
I decided not to pursue it at that moment and asked, “Do you mind if I shift around?”
She scowled slightly, but said, “No, I suppose not.” Her fingers withdrew.
I twisted and turned and wound up on my knees, straddling her legs with my ass nearly in her face. “Now, a little deeper?” I wiggled my hole at her.
I could sense, rather than see her smile. In seconds, I felt the first finger back inside me, only this time deeper by far. Giving her better access worked perfectly. I felt the palm of her hand push up against my ass and surmised she had shoved her middle finger inside to its last knuckle. It felt wonderful. “Another,” I repeated the glutinous demand.
The second finger came in slowly, a movement that served to enhance the anticipation and the outcome. I felt every contour of her finger, every knuckle as it slipped through my door. Her two fingers finally buried themselves to her palm inside and I squirmed again on her hand. Having my ass fucked by two soap covered digits from someone else’s hand was everything it had been fantasized to be, and more. She felt exquisite inside me and I told her so. “I don’t want you to take your hand back, ever.”
I heard her coo and then there was silence, as much from her stillness as mine. Had I gone too far? Or was she reflecting again on the pleasure such an act might give her? She said nothing, but experimented with another finger inside me. Too bad for her if she fails to come around, I thought, but my personal luck continued, even if she wasn’t ready to try it. She was determined to give me my fantasies anyway.
We played in the tub for awhile longer, pausing for a good ten minutes of cuddling in the slowly cooling and diminishing bubbles. Her head rested comfortably in the junction of my arm and shoulder and my free hand rested softly on her breast. Very slowly I caressed her while we allowed our heads to touch. This was turning out to be an extraordinary day.
I let her out of tub first, after she rinsed under the shower. While she dried herself she talked of how amazing our time together had been so far. At one point I wondered if she was getting ready to leave, a fear all but confirmed when she stepped to the bathroom door saying, “Take your time getting out.”
After listening to her activity for several minutes, I became convinced she was still in the bedroom of our suite, but was packed and ready to bolt. The sadness was stronger than I could have imagined. My disappointment was exaggerated by the realization that I might never have such an explosive rendezvous again. I rinsed, brushed and dried off before stepping back into the bedroom in the other terrycloth robe.
My fears and sadness were instantly exploded by what the military would call, “Shock and Awe.” If the noise of war in the middle east was thunderous, the appearance of SugarGirl in her stockings, garter belt, open-tipped bra and spiked heels was the earth shattering concussion. My jaw dropped to my knees and my dick sprung from semi-hard to rigid in a heartbeat, right through the folds of the robe.
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