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Thursdays

By: Turin99



Thursday Night. I head home from work after another long day at the office. Fortunately, the trains are on time; I'm tired and hungry. I could use a hot meal and a shower, but, it's Thursday.

I walk up to my apartment door and unlock it. I know what's waiting for me. It's Thursday night. It's her night. I enter my apartment and she's there waiting for me. She's as beautiful as ever and as naked as the day God graced us with her presence on Earth. I put my bag down and walk toward her. I notice the hungry look in her eyes. "Hi baby," I say to her, "happy to see me?" She wraps her arms around my neck and plants the softest kiss on my lips. Soft lips, but with a firm pressure that warned me not to pull away. We stand there lip to lip, breathing each other's breath. I trace her silhouette with my finger tips. My beautiful angel; I tickle the back of her neck and trace her spine down to the small of her back where I subconsciously draw circles as I circle her tongue with mine. As our kiss ends and she pulls back, I catch a brief whiff of her heavenly scent. I smile and grab her ass, "I guess that's a yes." I step back and trace her soft lips with my finger. Then I slide my fingers down, down to the valley of her heavenly breasts. How I would live there if I could. However, my fingers are just visiting. I continue to trace her body down to her soft velvety lips. I can feel her moisture even on the outside of her lips already. She's VERY happy to see me. I guess she knew it was Thursday too. As I touched the softest place on my angel, on Earth, I wanted nothing more than to throw her down right there. Those lips, those breasts, her sweet pussy... everything I wanted to do to them raced through my mind. But not tonight, it's Thursday. It's her night.

"Follow me," I tell her and I walk to the bedroom. I kick off my shoes and take off my socks and throw them in the corner. I go over to her drawer. I open it up. I pull out a pair of soft fuzzy handcuffs. 

"Come here." She comes over by the bed. 

"Face the window." She does. 

"Hands behind your back," I cuff her. Then I push her face down on the bed. I don't have to push her hard. Once I started to push, she instinctively knew what I wanted her to do. She bends herself to my will with a passion. It's Thursday.

I step back and admire her body... at her sexy ass just staring up at me. Her sweet lips are peaking out from underneath her. Her scent is filling the room; it could drive me to madness. My cock starts to rise up. I want to take her right there. I can already feel her lips rubbing against my balls as I rotate my cock inside her perfect pink walls. Another night... 

"Get up and turn around." She listens. I sit down on the bed. 

"Undress me, and be quick about it." She tries. It's always difficult unbuttoning a shirt when your hands are cuffed behind your back. She's learned though and found her own way. The first couple of times she had tried to use her mouth. After a tremendous effort and drooling all over me, she finally was able to bite off and swallow a button. I had to punish her for that one. Not only had she disobeyed me, but she ruined my shirt. I let that pretty ass of hers know my displeasure, she came three times. I suppose that was fair since she couldn't sit down straight for three days either. No, she knows better now. She's a quick learner, my angel. 

She sits down on my lap, and uses her cuffed fingers to feel for the buttons. As she shifts and shimmies to undo the buttons, her pussy grinds and rubs all over the head of my cock, bulging in my pants. God I want her. I hate Thursdays. They never end. She manages to unbutton my shirt. It only took her 2 minutes. I'm impressed. I hand her fingers my sleeve, and she struggles to pull it off my arm. She tries to stand up and swing over, but the sleeve's length impedes her and she falls down. 

"What's wrong with you? Are you incompetent? Can't you even undress your man? Or are you just trying to displease me?" Face down, she shakes her head no. 

"Then don't just sit there, get up and undress me." She rises back to her feet and grabs my sleeve with her teeth. Keeping it taut, she walks in short arc around the corner of the bed. My arm slips out. The next one will be easier. She walks around to the other side of the bed. I'm mesmerized. I want to just lean forward and kiss her stomach, her breasts; I want to taste the source of that sweet scent. 

She grabs my other sleeve and walks backwards freeing my other arm. I bend forwards, my chest on my knees. I can feel my cock poking me in the ribs. She bends over me and grabs my undershirt in her teeth and shimmies backwards working it off my back. She gets it up over my shoulders. I sit up a little and let the shirt slide up to my neck. I put my arms forward and my right hand accidentally brushes her soft tit. I instinctively grab it and press it hard in my hand. There are no words to describe how it feels. It's heaven. I rub her nipple between my thumb and pointer as I massage her breast. She stands there and a small moan escapes her lips. 

"Did I tell you to stop?" I reluctantly let go of her breast and she resumes removing my shirt. Thank god. Halfway done. 

"Good girl." She turns around with a smile on her face. It's been her fastest time yet and she knows it. She looks down at my pants and frowns. I look down. My $200 pants are covered in her sweet fluids. 

"LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE! YOU NAUGHTY, DISOBEDIENT, INCOMPETENT LITTLE SLUT! Clean it up... NOW!" She immediately drops to her knees and starts licking my cock. Even through my pants it's driving me insane. I can feel the heat of her mouth and the forceful movements of her tongue as she tries to scoop the viscous fluid from my pants. I want to whip my cock out and just stuff it in her pretty mouth. I remember how it feels, how good it would feel again. Not now. Not tonight. 5 Minutes of torture. I'll get her back though I promise to myself. 

She shimmies back on her knees. I look down. My pants looks more wet now than anything else. She did a pretty thorough job it seemed. In the back of my head I was impressed. She still would have to be punished though. "Look at it. You better PRAY that they aren't permanently stained. Now take them off." She shimmies back over to me and bites my belt. She pulls it through the loop and tongues it this way and that to free it from the clasp. More torture as she buries her face in my crotch trying to undo my belt, then as she VERY CAREFULLY grabs the zipper in her teeth and tugs it down. Meanwhile, I can feel her soft tits rubbing my legs. All I want right then is to grab them and wrap them around my aching cock until I explode all over her neck and face. 

Finally, she unclasps my pants. She backs up, grabs my pant leg, and tugs hard trying to shimmy my pants down. I'm frustrated. It makes me feel a little better watching her struggle, so I leave my weight on my pants. She falls down once as the pants slip out of her teeth. She rolls around on the floor and grabs the leg again and tugs. 

"Hurry up. You're taking too long." She pulls hard and I rise off the bed a little.. The pressure releases and she flops backwards on her ass. Her tits bounce. I feel better. She gives me a wry look suspecting I did that on purpose. I keep a straight stern face. 

"Don't just sit on your ass. Worthless. Finish the job!" She gets up and shimmies over and removes the other leg. She stays on her knees and awaits my next order. 

I want to command her to lick my balls and suck my cock. I see her staring at it, twitching in the air. 

"You want it?" She nods her head. 

"Too bad. Only good girls get treats. You took too long. And you may have ruined my pants. You need to be punished... Stand up." She rises. Come here. She comes over and stands beside my legs. Bend over. She bends down. My cock pokes her in the ribs. 

"First, you took too long to get my shirt off." I spank her lightly, five times on each cheek. Every time I come down on her gorgeous ass, she slides forward, rubbing my cock with her stomach. When she slides back, her tits rub my leg. 

"Next for your incompetence in removing my pants. You fell down twice. Incompetence will not be tolerated." I spank her ten times on each cheek. Each stroke harder than the next. I alternate between the two cheeks. Each smack, she slides a little more, rubbing my cock and her tits against me. Her ass gets warm from the blood flowing to it, and her breathing gets harder. By the time I'm done, I can feel the heat against my hand. 

I softly rub her ass with my palm. It's a work of art. I slide my fingers down to her crack. She's sopping wet. I slide my hand underneath her to the front of her mound, where I can feel a little pool of fluid built up on the outside of her lips. There will be cum on the carpet beneath her. I slide my fingers easily inside her and massage her clit, then trace her slit back up to her sweet hole. Her whole pussy is filled with cum. God I want to just crawl inside it. I trace my fingers back up over asshole and tease it. She moans. 

"Quiet!" I smack her ass hard. She moans again. 

"I said QUIET and smack her harder. The slap echoes across the room." She whimpers. 

"You're being a VERY bad girl tonight. Ruining my pants, disobeying me... You need to be taught a lesson." When I say that I feel her flinch, she rocks forward like I already spanked her, and her ass clenches tight. 

"No, you'd like that too much. I have a better punishment."

"Stand up." She stands up. I immediately miss her soft skin against my aching cock. 

"Sit down on the bed." I go to her drawer and remove a vibrator. It has a bulge on the head like a real cock. I slip it under her, resting the head against her clit. 

"I have some things to do. If you want to disobey like a little child, then you will be punished like one. You have to sit there until I release you. You are not allowed to talk or move. No MOVING AT ALL. You're allowed to breathe, that's it. If you make a sound or you even so much as sway a little, there will be no treats for you. GOT IT?" She nods. 

"Good." I turn the vibrator on low and stand up. I watch her for 30 seconds. The only noise is the buzz of the vibrator. She stares me in the eye. She's too confident. We'll see. 

I use this opportunity to give my aching cock a break. God I hate Thursdays. I go to the kitchen and dig up some cold cuts. I make myself a sandwich and come back. It's been five minutes. I expected to catch her moving against the vibrator when I entered. But she was sitting there in the same pose. I sit down and start to eat my sandwich. I'm watching her. I wondered if she was even feeling the vibrator at all, but I noticed the discoloration of the sheet beneath her. She's definitely feeling it. She's just being obstinate. I make a note not to play poker with her. I finish my sandwich.

"Is my angel being a good girl now?" She nods her head and smiles, knowing she hasn't flinched. I walk right up to her, my cock in her face. She doesn't move or anything. I just let her breathe on it, and it starts to fill back up again. As it rises it hits her chin and rubs across her lips. I stand back. She's staring at it. She still hasn't moved an inch. The sheets are getting very wet; I can see the spot growing. She wants her prize tonight.

"Is this what you want?" I hold my cock before her, barely but not touching her lips. She nods, careful not to touch it. A little bit of fluid bubbles at the tip when I squeeze it. "Open wide." She does. I very gently rub the head of my cock along the inside of her lips. I trace it all the way around. I then rub the head of my cock against her tongue, wiping off the fluid. 

"Keep it open." I then carefully slide my cock out without touching anything. I can see my little bubble on her tongue. 

"You can close your mouth." She does, and swallows. 

"You want more?" She nods. 

"Too bad. I told you not to move, but you've been nodding your head. I didn't give you permission to. You weren't supposed to move at all. You must be punished more."

I can see a frustrated look on her face now. I remember how frustrated I was when she was undoing my pants, and when she was dripping wet after I spanked her. Oh, the both of us will be tortured tonight darling, not just me. I will have my sweet revenge. 

"I am going to shower. You will not move a muscle or say a word. I will come out and check on you. If you break this rule... there will be no more Thursday nights." She gave me a look. She didn't like THAT ultimatum. 

"Good, then you better behave." She assumed a rigid unmoving position to demonstrate that she would. 

"You did it before. I shall be quick. You can stand another five or ten minutes can't you?" She didn't even blink. 

"Good girl." So obstinate. But, I'm not done. 

I go over and turn the dial up on the vibrator. Her eyes go wide and panicked and she looks at me. She doesn't want to lose Thursdays. I lean over and whisper in her ear. 

"You better be a VERY, VERY good girl... I'll be back in ten minutes. And don't think I won't check up on you to catch you. You know I can be a bastard like that." She didn't move. She just looked like she was trying to focus. I go to take my shower. Thank God. My cock was killing me. The shower barely helped me relax. I tried to calm down, but my adrenaline and hormones were on overdrive. I wanted her so bad. It was like a white light in my brain, and everything else was washed out by it. All I knew was that I needed her now. BREATHE. Damnit. I hate Thursdays. I wash my hair, and then I decide to check on her. 

I go back to the bedroom. She's in the same pose. She hasn't moved at all. I can tell. The sheets beneath her are soaked. I'm sure she's come, maybe more than once, maybe just one long time and she still is. She isn't grinding or swaying or anything. The only sound is her heavy breathing and the loud buzz. Her face is all contorted. Her eyes are sealed tightly closed. She must be going mad. But she's not moving. Not moving for me. Not for us. Not for Thursdays. I'm jealous of the vibrator beneath her. I admire her will. She's an angel. She has to be. She can't be human. 

I go back to the shower and finish washing up. I come back to the bedroom. My cock never got a moment of relief. I guess that's fair. She's still there, on the bed. Her shoulders have sagged. Her head's low, her legs and every muscle is tight. But her body hasn't moved an inch. The sheets are a puddle. I walk over and turn it off. She doesn't move; she just sits there breathing. 

"Good girl." I uncuff her. 

"You may move and speak." I caress her hair. The second I touch her, she starts to twitch and convulse. Her whole body spasms. She lets out a long moan, and grabs her tits, pinches her nipples, her clit, touches her whole body. I watch her unwind, sitting there writhing on the bed. She's cumming. She falls on her back and I can see her pussy twitching. 

Softly, she lets out, "Oh fuck..." She lays there and breathes. I give her time. She still twitches randomly. A few moments go by, and her head lifts up. 

"You fucking bastard." She sits up. I stand there watching her. She's beautiful. She leaps out of the bed before I can move and seizes me. She has me tight by my cock, squeezing it till it hurts. I wonder if she'll kill me. She plants the hottest, roughest, sweetest kiss on my lips, and falls back wards on the bed pulling me down on top of her. 

"I was the best fucking girl ever, now give me my prize you bastard..." She lifts her hips up and I easily slide my steel hard cock in her soaking wet pussy. I revel as I finally get to be where I wanted all day. It's heaven. My angel lays beneath me, wildly bucking in motion with me, the sheets clenched in her tight fists for leverage. We fuck like crazy. I alternate, biting her nipples. I feel her pussy twitching violently around my cock. She's cumming already, or maybe I should say she's still cumming from the vibrator. I wonder how long she's been going for. Her pussy's so tight that it almost hurts my cock. It's a good thing that she's so wet. 

"Bite my nipple hard," she barks, and I damn near chew them like steak. 

"Fuck me. Cum inside me baby. I want to feel you," she moans. I explode. I don't know how I lasted that long, but I can't deny the sexy angel beneath me. I clamp down hard on her nipple and she moans loudly as my cock jumps hard in her pussy. It throbs violently in response to her constricting muscles. Shot after shot I pump into her. 

"Oh fuck, baby, you're so tight," I moan.

"God your cock feels so good filling me, fill me up baby," she responds.

I keep shooting, smaller and smaller amounts, but I keep firing as she writhes beneath me and milks me for every drop. Finally, exhausted I collapse on top of her. I lay there breathing with her, still inside her. Our fluids run down our legs. I slide my arm under her neck and gently kiss her lips. I feel her beneath me. We moan a snuggly comfortable type of moan. 

She talks softly to me, "You bastard. Never do that again." 

"You loved it," I respond. 

"Well, don't do it for a really long time ok?"

"Alright," I smile. God she's beautiful. 

"You fucker," she says, "I'm going to get you back for this." 

"Oh shit," I think in my head. Fuck. Tomorrow's Friday. I hate Fridays. She's going to be the death of me. I roll over and pull her against me and kiss her. Then we drift off to sleep.

Thursdays 10/13- Arrival



She is waiting for me as I come down the jetway, wearing a white sundress with multihued orchids emblazoned on it. Her shoes are white, to match the dress, and she wears a large-brimmed straw hat bearing a band that is the same red as her hair. 

She does not wave as I approach, but when I draw up in front of her, she reaches for my hand and, throwing caution to the wind, we engage in a lingering kiss. Oddly enough, there among the teeming and anonymous hundreds, I feel less exposed than any other time we have been together.

We proceed to the taxi station, where we catch the shuttle for the hotel. I have reserved a suite at the conference site, at a reduced rate, but still pricey. If asked I will say that it was all that remained for my last-minute arrival. Among the other lies I've told to get away, this one would hardly stand out. 

Of course, none of this concerns me as we take our place at the back of the shuttle, holding hands, oblivious to who might see us. My wedding band is in my pocket. I had taken it off and pocketed it on the plane, drawing a censorious stare from my female seat-mate.

As in my fantasy, we kiss our way up the elevator, to the ninth floor. Her lips mold themselves to mine, our mouths adjust as we move, our tongues sliding against each other as we probe. Again, the exposure; the elevator is glass. The vague possibility that someone I know might see us hovers at the edge of consciousness. I am too besotted to care.

It takes only two tries to get the key to work and we are in the room, alone at last. She steps forward into my arms, grinding herself against my surely obvious erection. Her hand fumbles with the belt, the button, the zipper, releasing them all sufficiently that she is able to free my cock from its confines. I am extremely hard, the skin stretched taut. As she runs her fingers gently along my length, I swear that I can feel every blood vessel, every feature of my skin, in stark relief on her fingertips. I moan into her mouth, and it is all I can do not to explode on her right there.

Then, firmly grasping me, she breaks the kiss. 

"Do you want to come right now?"

"Yes...no," I manage to croak.

"Which is it?"

"Both."

"Well, here's my problem, lover boy. I want to feel your tongue on my pussy and I want your hard cock inside it, in that order. But I want to shower first. Now," she says, with a devilish grin and a gleam in her eyes, "the conundrum." Where has this sang froid come from? Other times she seems so wanton and abandoned, but now she is completely in control. "I hear guys your age sometimes have problems getting it up again. I want to get on my knees and let you come in my mouth, because I don't think it's fair to leave you in this state and... well... because I feel like I've been wet ever since that email and you deserve some reward for that. You going to have a problem getting it up in a half-hour or forty-five minutes?"

As I respond, I am shocked by how confident I sound. "To fuck you? Not a chance."

"Okay," she says and drops quickly to her knees. With no preliminaries, she takes my cock as far into her mouth as she can, until I touch the back of her throat. Then, she simply starts pumping up and down, one hand making a fist at the base and jerking in opposition to the movement of her mouth. There is little technique, just a set of sensations: the hand squeezing me at the base, the lips clamping down and dragging the taut skin, the feeling of sliding along her tongue. 

Then there are the sounds, the gulping sound as she takes me in again and again, the breathing through the nose, the moans as she expresses her arousal. She does not look up; her eyes are closed, intent on what she is doing. 

It doesn't take long. The load I have been saving through six hours of transit from my home to the hotel, the load I have been wanting to release for a week despite the increased frequency of sex with my wife, comes roaring (I actually thought I could hear it roar for a moment) from my balls and down her throat. I cry out, hoping no one is in the adjoining rooms, but caring very little if they are. She makes a little choking sound and, as I look down, I see a small amount of my semen escape onto her lips. 

When I'm finished, she pulls away and stands up. Then, looking directly into my eyes, takes the drop of me on her fingertip and, coquettishly, places the finger in her mouth in an exaggerated pantomime of sucking, smiles, and turns to the bathroom.

"Be naked when I get out," she calls behind her. The last I see, as she steps in to the bathroom, is her reaching back for the zipper on the sundress. I hear it unzip and it flies unceremoniously through the doorway. The door closes.

I waste no time in stripping and, following her lead, I simply throw my clothes to the floor. Not sure of what to do, I turn back the covers on the king-sized bed and lie down on the left, my accustomed side, and one that will force her to cross the room in easy view. The hiss of the water can be heard, and soon wisps of steam can be seen from under the door. I imagine the water sluicing over her body, trying to reconstruct it from the bits and pieces I have seen. Blood begins to rush to my crotch and already I feel my cock begin to stir. A good sign.

Then the water stops and after an interminable couple of minutes the door opens. She walks out, gloriously, unashamedly naked. Her red hair, now lank from the shower, hangs down to the top of her breasts, breasts which were fuller still than I had imagined. They swing with her motion, her beautiful pink nipples pointing slightly upward with their curve. 

Her pale skin is flush from the shower, accentuating the occasional freckles that speckle her. When I can tear my eyes from her breasts, I glance downward, to the small bush of red hair between her lovely, lovely thighs. She looks like a goddess in that moment, one smiling benevolently on me, and I want to worship at the altar of her body.

I am suddenly conscious of my age, of the twelve years that separate us, and of the extra weight I carry. She has the slightest hint of a belly, but is otherwise perfectly lithe while I bear proof, not a great deal, but some, of how sedentary I've been in recent years. Still, she looks at me with approval, and joins me in the bed. As she pulls the cover up, she glances down at my cock, noting with a glance the signs of life there.

In no time at all we are in each others' arms, hands wandering, thrilling to the touch of new skin as we press together. My cock stiffens quickly and, as she touches it, she moans at its hardness. I caress those beautiful breasts, playing with her erect nipples, eliciting sighs and gasps indicating her rising excitement. 

Gently, I push her onto her back, and begin a trail of kisses at her ear, tonguing the space around that new earring I had noticed, the cold, metallic taste a contrast to the warm flesh of her lobe. Then my mouth tracks down the side of her neck, to her throat, where I linger in that hollow that had first entranced me. Following that, to her breasts, kissing first the underside, then trailing my tongue along the side of one, homing in and circling around the nipple, until I finally graze it with my tongue, causing her to cry out. 

I alternate between taking much of the breast in my mouth, gently sucking, and attacking her nipple with my tongue. My hand wanders between her legs and I begin to gently stroke the outside of her sopping cunt. Using my middle finger, I drag indolently up and down, as if I had no aim while with my mouth I continue my assault on her breast. Finally, I slip the finger in and again she cries out. I feel her cunt tighten around my finger and, my face pressed against her breast, I smile.

Leaving the breast, I kiss my way down her abdomen and, as I reach the top of her bush, of those delicate red hairs surrounding the pink cleft between her thighs, I shift positions so that I approach from below. She spreads her legs for me, and I hook my arms under them, holding her hips as I begin to run my tongue up her left thigh. Goosebumps follow my tongue and I stop just short of her outer lips. Then I repeat the process on the other thigh. She is wet, and I begin to taste her sour-sweetness. The aroma of it mixes with the lavender of the soap she used in the shower.

Finally, I bury my face in her cunt. The smell and the acidic taste overwhelms me and all I want to do is lick her, suck there, make her cry out again and again. And she is crying out. I run my tongue all up and down, prodding her opening, battering her clit, seemingly all places at once. She reaches down and presses me into her; were my head not shaved, she would surely grab my hair. I lick up along the lips, trying to drive it under the hood of her clit, then down, poking it into her opening. The repetition of this motion drives her over the edge and she comes again. 

She grabs my head to pull me up and I do not resist. Her scent clings to me, my face glistens with her juices. Once I am beside her, she begins kissing me, frantically, and grabs at my cock. Though it has been only about a half-hour since she let me come in her mouth, I am rock hard; it had been a challenge not to come when I was between her legs and it rubbed against the sheets.

Smiling, she pushes me back gently and straddles me, grabbing my cock and pointing it at her opening. She settles a bit, and lodges my tip just inside her sheath. As she starts to descend, I push, at which she pulls back, standing higher on her knees and allowing me to pop out.

Again, the devilish grin. "No. We do this in my time."

Once more she places me just inside her and begins an excruciatingly slow descent. Her eyes close and I resist the urge to try plunging into her again. Instead, I luxuriate in the feeling of her interior flesh parting, giving way to my cock, and then the snugness that follows the advance. At last she is completely impaled on me; my head is propped sufficiently on a pillow that I can see where her red hairs and my brown ones meet.

Now she is firmly in control and begins sliding up and down, again slowly, on my captive cock, taking her pleasure as she wants it. I am transfixed by the movement of her breasts, by the warmth of her snatch, by the look of abandon on her face as she starts to ride me. She leans forward, placing her hands on the headboard and allowing her breasts to dangle in front of my face. Her lovely red hair hangs over her shoulders, almost covering them. My tongue darts out, seeking her nipples again, causing her to moan even louder. 

Then her hands move from the headboard to my chest and she is using me to push against, spreading her thighs as far as she can to take me in as deeply as possible with each thrust. I look down to the beautiful sight of my cock appearing and disappearing between her splayed lips. 

Her orgasm is clearly building, and she leans back now, supporting herself with her hands. My cock bends back a little with her and I fear, as she pulls up on it, that I will spring free. But she knows what she is doing; just as it seems she will lose me, she closes her thighs and thrusts her hips forward. She is beginning to ride me harder, and a bit faster, and finally her climax breaks upon her. I see her eyes fly open, completely dilated, as she calls out my name and finally exhales with relief.

After a moment, she leans forward again and, sensing that the tide has turned, I take control. She sits more or less straight up and I grab her hips and begin pushing her up and down on me. Her breasts bounce, and I find myself compelled to sit up, my arms around her torso, and take first one breast, then the other, in my mouth, kissing, teasing as she bounces madly on me. 

Finally, I feel my own orgasm arriving. I lay back and once more take hold of her hips. As she rises, I fall, drawing almost completely out. As she falls, I rise, driving myself completely in. When the moment arrives, I pull her down completely onto me at the same time thrusting as hard as I can. I lift her from the bed as I explode inside her, my cock spasming harder than I thought possible considering how recently I had come.

When the spasms subside, she looks down at me, a smile of post-coital languor on her face. Then she dismounts me and mock-collapses onto her chest. Her red hair splays out across the white pillow; I cannot see her face, which is buried in it.

"I'm sorry I ever doubted," came a muffled voice. "What now?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving."



Thursdays 10/13- Dessert



My legs feel like jelly; the collapse into the pillow was only half-faked. And when I ask you what now, I half expect you to be hard again already. Instead, you say you're hungry. Just like that, as though this happens all the time. Who are you?

I remember catching you looking that first time during class and wondering what the hell you were doing. Definitely not my type. Shorter than me. Balding, although doing a good job of hiding it by shaving your head. A little bit of a paunch. But there was something about your eyes, brown in one light, greenish in another, and in the lines around them, lines that spoke of experience. There was a youthful gleam in them. The intensity of your gaze made me want to squirm. Before I saw the little grays in your hair, I would have guessed you a good eight, ten years younger than you were.

At dinner tonight, you are all youthfulness with the edge of experience. You listen to what I have to say and, unlike others I've dated, you have constructive things to say about my work. It makes you more attractive. My panties are wet throughout. 

When I touched you that first time, after you kissed my neck and ran your tongue along my throat, I was stunned. I have seen bigger, but I was still surprised at your size. You kissed me with such passion; you kissed me like it was a privilege. When I touched your dick, when I felt its unsuspected girth, I knew I wanted to feel it in my mouth, so I went down on you. And when I did, you seemed to know what you wanted, itself a turn-on. I do not usually swallow; for you, I made an exception. For you, I will always make that exception.

You touch me so casually and yet with such great purpose, as we sit close in the booth at the restaurant. I barely notice my drink, the appetizer, the meal, as your hand runs up my leg, your finger slipping inside the crotch of my panties. I reach down to find you hard, and wonder if you're using some kind of drug to be this aroused. As you look at me, as you listen to me, I find myself wanting to be back in our room—our room!—to test your virility again.

I could not believe how I offered myself to you that second time, and I could not believe your response. I was not prepared for your passion. My previous lovers were all boys, except for one and that was a...special...case. Again I was struck by how you seemed to know what you were doing. You seemed to want more than to simply get your dick wet, more than simply to come. You wanted me to come. When you went down on me, I was ecstatic. Others had, but they seemed to think we were in a porno; they would simply batter my clit and flick their tongue here and there and think it enough. But you...you enjoyed what you were doing and wanted me to enjoy it, too. 

I catch you looking at various times. You seem to like the way this dress fits me, this dress I picked out in response to the fantasy you sent me. The thrill of turning you on like this is palpable. This lacy bra, the way the top falls away when I lean forward, showing you my breasts, the tightness of it around my hips are all for your benefit. 

Objectively, I know I'm good-looking. Objectively, I know men look, and occasionally stare, at me. Objectively, I know they want to fuck me. I know you looked at me like that and wanted that, too. Subjectively, I feel like a goddess.

I don't know what to expect when we get back to the hotel. All I know is that I want to fuck again, and maybe again after that. You begin kissing me, aggressively, but you're not overbearing. Your tongue seeks mine out and reacts to mine, like a dancing partner, one who's not afraid to alternate between leading and being led. I can feel the dampness in my panties increase and I grind against the erection you somehow seem to have carried all evening.

Before I can get to it, you've reached around to the back of my neck, and begun working the zipper to my dress. Once it has reached the bottom, you place your hands on my shoulders, beneath the fabric, and run them down my body, a trail of goosebumps following your fingertips, pushing the dress down until it falls free from my hips and sinks to the floor. You find the clasp on the front of my bra and with a deft twist release it. Reconnaissance, indeed!

My nipples harden as the cooler air of the room hits them, and there is a shock that travels from the erect tip through my breast and straight to my spine as you rub them with your thumbs. I moan as you cup one breast, and bend down to kiss it, brushing the areola gently with your lips and closing your lips around the nipple, teasing it with your tongue, the warmth as much a shock as the cold air had been.

Then you kneel in front of me rub the sopping crotch of my panties, feeling my contours through the sheer fabric, pressing at my opening and I cannot help but moan. Hooking your fingers under the waistband and you pull them down, down, down my legs, until I am completely naked except for my shoes and you on your knees completely clothed. You then kiss my abdomen and duck your head towards my pussy. The sound of you deeply inhaling my scent is beyond unreal. 

You stick your tongue out, and begin sliding it along my slit. I shudder, and feel like I'll collapse, but you hold my hips, keeping me upright as you crane your neck between my legs. Up and down, along the curve of my pubis, your glorious, glorious tongue, now rough, now smooth, manipulates my lips, my clit, my opening. Finally, you move one of your hands and press a finger inside me. I feel each knuckle as it enters me, as I squeeze around it. Back and forth with the finger, the tongue concentrating on my clit, pulling the cover and circling, my tiny erection a distant cousin of yours. Waves of pleasure convulse me, radiating outward from my pussy, which has closed like a vise on the intruding finger. My nipples are so hard they almost hurt. 

I start to stumble forward, but catch myself on your shoulders. When my orgasm is done, you look up at me and smile. For a moment, I understand the thrill you must get when I kneel in front of you, the feeling of...domination is the wrong word... being served, or maybe serviced. I wonder what you will do next.

You stand and kiss me, my flavor stronger than it had been before. It makes me even wetter than the combination of my juices and your saliva has already left me. I reach for the buckle of your belt, but you gently, playfully, push my hand aside and shake your head. Instead, you scoop me easily up in your arms (you are far stronger than you look) and place me on the edge of the bed. I remain sitting, to watch you and, for a long moment, you look at me. 

When you have placed me where you want me, you unbuckle your belt and open your pants. Your dick springs out, jutting from your pelvis in search of my warmth and wetness. I am seized by a longing to touch it, to feel it in my mouth, and in my pussy, all at once. But I know what you want, and I'm not about to deny it. I scoot forward to the edge of the bed, and lie back. I can see your face, the lust that plays across it as you look down at me. You run your hands along my sides, over my breasts, across my abdomen, and between my thighs, which you spread. In anticipation, I lift my legs, bent at the knees.

Stepping forward, you place the head of your dick at my opening and lean forward, pushing, holding on to my bent knees. There is the familiar popping sensation as your head enters me, and as I widen to accommodate you. A groan escapes your lips, and you push harder, overcoming what little internal resistance there is, inexorably filling me with your wonderful, wonderful dick. I love the way that I can feel every inch of you, that my hips rise of their own accord to get more of you inside. The gentle curve of you and the angle you penetrate me from allows the tip to press lightly against the front of my pussy, the pleasure radiating from the point of contact. When your hips collide and I feel your testicles hit a split second later, I'm in heaven.

As you pull back, I feel myself partially close in your absence, and a short-lived sense of emptiness follows, to be relieved as again you thrust forward, with surprising power in your hips, and I am filled once more. Individual sensations vanish as you begin repeating the motion, standing at the edge of the bed. You lift my legs, placing my feet on your shoulders, which, amazingly, allows you to plunge even deeper, touching places that even the one or two boys with bigger dicks couldn't find.

When I open my eyes, I am astonished at the intensity on your face. You are holding my legs and thrusting into me. My body shakes each time, but the entire impression is of passion, not roughness. I surrender completely to the moment, focusing only on the sensation of you plunging in and pulling out, until my orgasm is upon me. My pussy convulses around you as I cry out, ultimately tightening, making you feel bigger. Then, there is a tell-tale twitch, as at the last minute you becomes just a tiny bit harder, just a tiny bit larger. You plunge as deeply as you are able and I can feel it pulse just before you pump your semen into me. There is a noticeable warmth as it hits my walls. Finally, once the spasms have concluded, you begin to soften and withdraw from me. I feel a last wave of pleasure as I adjust to your reduced size, and as I close somewhat behind you.

You stand for a moment, looking at me, and a smile crawls across your face. I sit up, wrapping my legs around you to hold you in place, and we kiss again, gently, softly, wonderfully. The hour has grown late. 

Silently, we prepare for bed. I go to bed clad only in a pair of panties, surprisingly immodest. Usually, I like to cover up after sex, but something about the way you look at me makes me want to display myself. You strip down to your boxers and then, with a shrug, take them off before slipping into bed. We lay down together, your arm around me and, satiated, I drift off to sleep.



Thursdays 10/6 Pt. 01



On Wednesday evening, the following email from my paramour appeared in my inbox, leading to a simultaneous wave of disappointment and excitement: Monthly visitor has arrived. Magnificent blowjob awaits!

The next morning I woke up earlier than usual, stirred from my sleep by sounds from the bathroom. The door was cracked, and wisps of steam billowed out. My wife was showering, but over the sounds of the water I heard a sound that could have been any number of things--sobbing, laughing, moaning. Curious, I decided to investigate.

Quietly, I opened the bathroom door, and looked over to the shower. In silhouette through the curtain I could see my wife standing there, propped up on one arm, fingering herself in the spray. The sounds I had heard were little cries of pleasure, which erupted fairly regularly. I stood there and watched for a moment; she was apparently unaware that I had come in. Blood rushed to my crotch and, hoping to seize the moment, I quickly doffed my boxer shorts.

Gently pushing aside the curtain, I looked at her from behind. Beads of water slid down her back and, beneath the extra weight of age, I could still see the figure that had so entranced me when we had started dating. Her back still curved elegantly, and her ass still maintained a firm round shape, courtesy of the elliptical machine. I stepped in and quickly pressed myself to her, my hard dick lodged firmly between us, and cupped her still-soapy breasts. 

"Maybe I can help," I suggested. 

She did not remove her hand, but instead resumed her efforts, while I started rubbing her breasts, first from the underside and then passing my palms over her nipples, sliding to the tops and back down again. Then, once more cupping them, I began manipulating her nipples with my thumbs, timing with her efforts. She moaned loudly and then stiffened, coming from our combined touches. When the wave had subsided, she turned her head to look at me, surprise in her eyes.

"Why has it been so good lately," she asked.

Instead of answering, I took the opportunity to reach between her legs, find her opening, and stick my own fingers inside her. At the same time, I reached around and found her swollen clit with my other hand. I began working it in circles while I moved the fingers of my other hand in and out. It has always been quicker and easier with her to have a second orgasm than a first, something that helped in those years of low interest, when I wanted to be done quickly, but still leave her satisfied. This time, I wanted to excite her, I wanted to make her want me, right then and there. She came even harder and more quickly.

Reaching around behind her, she began stroking my dick, pumping it to make sure it was fully hard. I moaned as she did so, and called out her name. She bent over. We had never done this, in all our years together. But just as our lovemaking in bed recently felt new, this was as though it were common practice. She bent at the waist, bracing herself against the shower wall with both hands, her breasts hanging down, water pouring off them in twin torrents.

I stepped in behind her and again sought out her opening with a finger, running it along her slit from the clitoris, enjoying the difference in lubrication. She was extremely slick, and by bending over she prevented the water from washing it away. After finding her entrance, I replaced my finger with the head of my penis and began pushing into her. Her pussy was well-oiled, ready for me to fill her; she opened easily to my advance until I was completely inside her, my testicles coming to rest against the softness of her thighs. She moaned even louder than when I had worked on her with my hands.

As I gripped her hips, I noted the difference between hers and my paramour's. My wife's were thicker, but more substantial for that. We both of us were not lithe as we had been when we were young. Neither were we particularly fat; we both exercised enough to keep that at bay. No, we carried the weight of our late thirties rather well, I thought, and the extra cushion, if anything else, allowed us to melt more into each other. I felt, perhaps, like I was falling for her again.

The shower sprayed us as we made love. As I moved in and out of her, she raised herself slightly to change my angle, and, bending my knees slightly, I penetrated her more deeply than ever before. This new angle also brought a cascade of new water than ran in a rivulet down the channel created by the indentation of her spine, water that ran straight down the crack of her ass and onto my dick. I worried about the loss of lubrication, but each time I plunged into her I was anointed anew.

She came again and again as I slowly rocked in and out of her. With an effort, I held back my own orgasm and stood there, entranced by the sight of my column of flesh disappearing and reappearing, watching the shape of her sex as it gripped me. I tried to push deeper each time, but gently, gradually working my way in. Finally, I felt a tingling in my balls and I pushed a little further still, pulling her to me with her hips, and staying stationary as I came deep inside of her.

When my spasms had subsided I withdrew and she turned to face me completely. The water, which was now starting to get colder, ran down her torso and I was enthralled by the paths it took to the ground between and around her breasts, over the slight roundness of her belly and streaming down her legs. She took my face in my hands and kissed me, thanking me, and saying nothing more. I stepped out of the shower to let her finish and it was in this way that we began our day.

* * *

My ardor for my paramour is in no way impaired by the intensity and recentness of the morning's sex. The events of the past few weeks have left me with the sex drive of a man ten, fifteen years younger. I am remembering what it was like to want sex all the time, and to be able to perform. 

As she kneels in front of me in the darkened conference room, her lips sliding up and down on my cock, pausing occasionally to swirl her tongue around the tip, I am astounded by her enthusiasm for the task. With my wife it had always seemed like a favor, one to be repaid later in some fashion. This woman sighs and moans almost as though I were fucking her and at one point I swear she tenses up and her mouth widens around me and it seems as though she were coming. 

I want to feel myself inside her mouth for hours, but time is short. Guiding her, I place my hands on either side of her head and slacken her pace somewhat, fucking her mouth with long, slow strokes. This seems to intensify her excitement, which in turn feeds mine. At last, I can feel my orgasm. It is not slow to build but seizes me in a rush and I push in as far as I dare, hearing her gag a bit but also cry out with pleasure (muffled though it is by my cock) as I push just into her throat. I erupt in a brief, but intense, frenzy.

She pulls away when I am done, holding the tip of me on her lower lip for a split second. Then, she licks me top to bottom to be sure I am clean. This accomplished, she stands, helping me put myself back together.

"Something was different this time."

"Oh? How different? Different bad?"

"No. I mean, I got mine and I know you got yours. Just... different."

There is nothing to say. I am loath to tell her that I spent the early part of the morning having sex with my wife in the shower, though she would have as little right to object as I would were she to tell me she had had a date. Instead, I try a different tack.

"I'm tired of seeing you only in a dark room. Would you like to get a drink after class?"

She looks at me quizzically, cocking her head to one side before responding. "This is NOT a relationship. You haven't forgotten that?"

"Not that we've discussed it, but no. I never assumed this was more than what it was."

She smiled, the light from the cracked door illuminating her face. "OK, then. Let's get a drink."



Thursdays 10/6 Pt. 02



Sitting in the far corner of a nice bar, buried in the corner in the hopes of invisibility, I still find myself beset by the fear of discovery and wondering just what the hell I was thinking with this level of publicity.  

My paramour sits across from me, her back to the room.  The red of her hair takes on a bloody tint in the dim light, and it shrouds her azure eyes in a way both haunting and erotic.  Her hand rests on mine, her fingers taking notice of my wedding ring.  With her other she holds and sips a Cosmopolitan from a martini glass.  My second scotch and soda sits half-drunk in front of me.

"Does it bother you," I ask.

"Does it bother you," she returns.

"Not like you might think.  This," I say, rubbing the band, "doesn't seem to have much to do with what we share."

"So you have no qualms and no regrets," she asks, brushing the hair back from her eyes and locking mine.

"None.  Except that we seem limited to Thursdays during the class break.  But even that makes things... more interesting."

"And if we could break from that?"

"I don't know.  I said I wasn't looking for a relationship and I meant it.  But," I continue, leaning forward so as not to be overheard, "I'd love to fuck you in a bed, long and slow, with no hurry to finish up.  I'd love to run my tongue along your thigh and taste you.  I'd love, just once, to fall asleep with you afterwards, wake up, and start again.  One night without saying goodbye."  

There is a visible reaction on her face and I can hear the sharp intake of breath.  Have I intrigued her?  Aroused her?  Offended her?  She gives me no cues to read, just continues to lock my gaze.

"Do you still fuck your wife?"
"Yes."

"When was the last time?"

I take a deep breath.  "This morning."

"So that's what was different."

"Maybe.  Is that a problem?"

"How would you feel if I told you I'd sucked another man's cock this morning?"

"Perhaps a bit jealous, but I have no right to be.  I have no claim on you, nor you on me.  Whatever we do, or don't do, I love my wife as I am able.  Fucking you is nothing to do with her; it's all about you and me and what we want from each other.  If we parted company tonight, I'd have no regrets.  I could see going home and being faithful for another 15 years, our tryst a delicious memory to sustain me in rough times."

She holds my gaze and I wonder what she is thinking.  Around us there is chaos, but perfect calm reigns within our sphere.  I am aware of these things--of the startling power of her stare, of the plump redness of her lips, of my heartbeat as I feel myself on the precipice, of the movement of blood to my cock as I think over what I have said, of wanting her to speak to break the silence.  Finally, she speaks:

"I'm going to a conference next week, during the break.  You know the one," and she names a gathering of academics in her field in a neighboring state.  "To present a paper.  Maybe you could join me there.  You could try fucking me on a bed, running your tongue up my thigh.  We could have... three nights... without saying goodbye."

Without pausing to think, I reply.  "I'll do it."

"I said 'maybe.'  Convince me I should let you."  Then without further ado, she stands and leaves the bar, her unfinished Cosmopolitan the only evidence she had been there.

*     *     *

"Convince me I should let you," she had said.  Later, in my study, I wrote her this message while my wife slept in the adjacent room:

We've both had the same unasked question on our minds all day, throughout the interminable talks, and the requisite chatter at the reception: "When will this end?" From the moment we walked in, you on my arm in your lovely black evening gown, me looking spiffy in a dinner jacket and tie, you've had that look, the one you give me with the sly smile you show me whenever you stop flirting with the guy you're talking too long enough to catch my eye. It's only fair, I suppose: his wife is talking to me and I've done my share of flirting, too, but I forget her when you "accidentally" lean forward over the table to grab an appetizer giving me a nice view of your cleavage and the black bra beneath.

Finally the affair is over and we can steal back to our hotel room. The elevator is mercifully empty as I take you in my arms and we begin kissing. The only sounds are our breathing, some low moans as I trail kisses down your delicious neck, and the bell tolling the floors as we ascend. By the top you have loosened my tie and placed some kisses of your own on my throat.

Giddy, we stumble hand-in-hand, laughing, to the room and somehow my hands are steady enough to open the door. Once inside we begin to kiss again, with intent you might say, and my hands move towards your breasts. I feel your nipples harden as I caress them through the thin fabric of the gown, and I feel your legs start to tremble. Your breath comes in short gasps, and you cry out a bit as I play with them, and I find myself wondering if you have just come.

Whatever the case, you kneel in front of me, lifting your skirt so as not to damage it, and work my fly. You reach in and pull my cock out through the fly hole in my boxers (I don't know why, but that's so hot) and you begin to lick the underside, from the base to the tip, and then engulf me, your tongue swirling and sliding along my length. Your head bobs back and forth and occasionally you look up at me, mischief in your eyes, as I build to a climax. 

Sensing it, and wanting more, you stop and stand, and again our tongues are dancing with each other. Putting my earlier research to work, I reach for the zipper on your gown and begin working it slowly down your back, my other hand caressing your spine as it is bared. You arch as I press on it, grinding yourself against me, risking an eruption ahead of schedule.  A rustle of fabric and the stately dress is now a pool of fabric on the floor. You reach behind you and unsnap your bra, letting your lovely breasts hang free.

As you unbutton my shirt, I work the sleeves and together we get it off in short order; my undershirt quickly follows, then my shoes, then my pants, then my boxers, until all that remains are my socks. They're not in the way, so who cares about them.  You take your hand, as though to lead me to the bed but, deciding to take charge, I gently push you back on to it.

I kneel in front of you and run my hand up your leg, an errant finger stroking your pussy through the fabric of your panties. Again, the sharp intake of breath, a moan, and I reach for the waistband. You arch your back to help me, and I slide them down your legs, finally removing them.

I begin kissing at your ankle and leave a trail of kisses the length of your legs. Gently, I part your thighs and, once I reach them with my mouth, I seek out your center. My tongue begins to manipulate the folds of your sex and you push yourself forward to meet me. I inhale your sour-sweet scent as I seek the perfect place to lick, running my tongue up and down your cunt, pausing now to stick it in your opening and again to play with your clit.  I try to kiss your lips with mine, and to explore each fold individually.  Finally, I stick a finger inside you and you gasp, which encourages me to redouble my efforts on your clit. You build to a crescendo and come, crying out my name.

When I come up for air, my face drenched in your juices, you are splayed across the bed, breathing heavily, your eyes closed as your body continues to spasm.  As I start to go down on you again, you reach out with both hands, grabbing my head and pulling me away.  I stand, my cock jutting out from me, so hard it almost hurts.  Then you say the words I want to hear.

"Fuck me."

You spread your legs wider now, and I kneel between them. You grab my cock and place it at your opening, a thrust, and I am inside of you. Your warmth envelops me, grasping my cock in all places at once as I push all the way in, watching your eyes widen as you accommodate me.   I begin thrusting, slowly at first and then, your excitement rising, I thrust faster, harder. You're watching me watching you. We're both smiling. Your head turns this way and that as you say my name repeatedly, one of the most beautiful sounds I can imagine.

I'm fucking you, trying to reach the places you like to be reached, occasionally coming down for a kiss, wondering how you taste on my lips, but for the most part supporting myself on my arms as our hips collide again and again. I can tell by the increasing pitch that you are close now, and I am, too. I begin to thrust just a little harder and I can hear and feel you come, and see the pupils in your eyes dilate until they are almost all black with a slight halo of blue, just as the tightness in my balls gives way to an explosion inside you. A few more thrusts, and our breathing begins to ease. 

I withdraw from you, and lay down beside you, holding one hand, and tracing circles on your shoulder with the other. We kiss in the aftermath, and speak of the day behind and the night to come, our hands wandering, beginning the next round already...

*     *     *

A few hours later, I am still at my computer, unable to sleep.  The thought of a weekend of pure carnality is exhilarating and the thought that she might reject me is devastating.  Then the reply comes, much earlier than I expected.  A travel itinerary is attached showing her flight time and arrival. Along with this, a single sentence:

"You pick the hotel and I'll bring the dress."




Thursdays 9/15



I should not look so longingly at her neck. Were she to turn and fix me with her lapis eyes, she would likely be astonished with the intensity of my gaze focused, not as expected, on her breasts (smallish, round, lovely) but on that slender column. Skin pale, contrasting sharply with the red of her hair, smooth and taut. I could, I fancied, see the beat of her pulse beneath her jawbone. I could, I fancied, taste the light saltiness of her skin, feel its warmth beneath my lips, hear her sigh as my tongue blazed a trail upward towards her ear, smell her soft perfume that had lingered in my nostrils when she passed by me earlier, thrill to the tension as she leans away, offering me more ground to cover. 

No. Staring like this is living dangerously.

I do it anyway.

Of course, she snares me with a sidelong glance, notes my attention not on the lecturer, but on her, and turns to look at me. For a long moment I am falling as I look at her looking at me looking at her... There is a positively sexual thrill that runs through me as the corners of her mouth tug upwards in what may be a smirk, but which I interpret as an indulgent (and dare I think flattered?) smile. I wonder what she sees: a man, not handsome but not ugly, slightly older and embracing baldness, eyes, with small wrinkles at the corners, that have been described as arresting. Or an old man, staring lustfully at a younger woman? Which would not be entirely wrong; lust is certainly a component of my interest, but not the only one. When I surface, I realize that the entire tableaux must have lasted no longer than three or four seconds, or else everyone in class would certainly have been caught in our web. There is a palpable sense of loss as she turns away.

About midway through the seminar we take a break. As my fellow students file out, I watch the way she moves. I confess to paying no small amount of attention to her backside as it moves in her jeans, but not only that. As she exits the room she turns her head slightly; if you had not been watching you might have missed the movement. Again, she catches me looking and, I think, challenges me with her glance to follow. Which I do, standing quickly and exiting the room just in time to see her vanish into an empty classroom down the hall.

I make sure no one is watching and, true to form, all are engaged in idle chatter or in going to the restroom. Furtively, I move to the darkened classroom down the hall, enter, and spot her standing off to one side. She is half-lit in the overspill from the hallway, the shadows on half of her face deepened by her hair hanging over it. She looks at me intently, and I do not flinch from her gaze. I step closer, coming within arm's reach of her, close enough to smell the perfume, to hear her soft breathing, to see her swallow uncomfortably.

"You've been staring at me." It is not a question. There is no point in questions.

"Yes."

"Can you cut it out?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"Very."

"You must know how lovely you are. You must be used to men, even older men, looking at you..."

"Not usually so openly."

"Life is too short for pretense." Then, sensing an opening, I ask, "How does my gaze make you feel? Besides uncomfortable."

She thinks for a second, then smiles cryptically. "Desired. I wanted to squirm in my seat. You have a very intense way of looking at a person." For a long moment we look at each other. I, at least, can feel the tension in the air. For an instant, I register the wedding band I bear and, in that instant, it feels like a chain. But only for an instant. It lightens when she speaks again. "What are you thinking when you look at me like that?"

I step in closer, until we are only inches apart. At this point I am close enough to hear the heaviness of her breathing. She stands two--perhaps three--inches taller than me, boosted somewhat by her heels, so I have to tilt my head slightly to maintain her gaze. Her lip quivers. She swallows again.

Finally, I touch her. Nothing overtly sexual, but I cup her cheek, and move her hair out of her face so I can see it all. Her eyes close and, as I stroke her jaw, she leans her head back slightly, exactly what I hoped for. I lean in a bit and kiss her just above the top of her breastbone, in the open patch left by the collar of her blouse, hearing her sigh as I do. Then I run my tongue up the hollow of her throat and, involuntarily it seems, she grabs my head, trying to pull my lips towards hers. I resist and continue exploring the side of her neck with my lips, luxuriating in the taste of her skin, its suppleness, its heat. The tension in her muscles is precisely as I had imagined it. I track up to her pulse, feeling her increased heartbeat with my lips, and I smile against her.

Only when I have fulfilled my vision, only when I have experienced her neck with all of my senses, do I yield to her. I pull away. She turns her head, leans in a little, and presses her lips against mine. Her lips part and her tongue darts out, impishly, seeking my own. My hands find her hips and her arms my shoulders as we draw closer. I note the swell of her breasts (not quite so small as I had though) as they press against me and I fancy I feel the heat from between her thighs. My cock is fully erect and pressing against her, a fact she apparently enjoys as she is grinding against me. Out tongues continue their duel, their pas-de-deux, for a timeless minute or two until, at some unseen signal, we part. As we break the kiss, our lips slide against each others', prolonging the farewell, the ecstasy of kissing, the horror of parting. We are both breathing heavily now.

Sometime during this, her hands have moved to my hips and I scarcely notice her movements until her fingers brush my erection, clearly noticeable through my pants. Even in the dimness, I see her eyes widen somewhat, a smile crawl across her lips. She says nothing, but with her right hand undoes my belt buckle. Once again, she kisses me hard, her lips moving across mine, her tongue aggressively exploring my mouth as she works the fly button and zipper, pulling my cock out of my boxers. I moan into her mouth as, delicately, with her fingertips, she strokes my length. The smile returns as she breaks the kiss and sinks to her knees.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" My words come out as gasps and I desperately hope that no one is in earshot.

By way of an answer she grasps me firmly, looking at my erection for a moment, as though sizing me up. I am not huge, nor am I particularly small, but the look on her face makes me feel like a god. Large or not, I am certainly as hard as I have ever been. Then she anoints the tip of my cock with her tongue, and it is all I can do not to cry out at the warmth and the moisture of it. Her flexible tongue cups me, trailing around the head and then, raising me with her hand, the tongue trails down the underside, to the base, and back up again. 

She plants the lightest of kisses and then, holding the base with one hand, engulfs me. Her lips slide about halfway down my length, clamping down on me. I can feel her tongue cradling me from below, her teeth lightly scraping the top, until she stops her descent and I connect with the back of her mouth. Then she tries to go a little further, gaining fractionally, and I hear her suppress a gag. She moans, the vibrations from her throat echoing in me. 

Once she has taken me as far as she can, she slides back, dragging her lips and tongue over the ground she has just covered. Stopping short of taking me out, she keeps only the head in and again swirls her tongue around the tip. Almost before I can register this, she slides down again, not pausing once she reaches her limit, but pulling back and now she is truly fucking me with her mouth. Most of me is concentrated at the points where lips, tongue and teeth meet my cock, the rest on keeping any noise from escaping. The only thing I hear is the sound of her breathing through her nose and the swallowing sound every time she goes down. And her moans. 

It only takes a few minutes of this to have me on the brink. I am contending not only with the sensations, which are excellent, but with my own mind. The newness of this moment, its unexpected occurrence, overwhelm me. Her physical attractiveness, her youth. Thinking about them, picturing what my cock must look like sliding in and out of her mouth, are almost as compelling as the act itself. Her moans, allowing me to flatter myself that she is perhaps enjoying this almost as much as I am, make me, if possible, harder. 

As I feel my orgasm near, I put my hands on her head, not holding it, but stroking her beautiful hair. Receiving the message, she slows down and, to make up the pace, I thrust a bit into her mouth. I trust the hand to prevent me shoving too deep. The hand, which has been quiet thus far, begins to pump as I fuck her mouth and then my climax is upon me.

I feel it through my legs, through my entire body; I push in as far as she will allow me, registering her suppressed gag, if at all, with a slight sense of domination. Despite what must be a bit of discomfort, I hear a small cry of joy from her throat as she simply stops moving. The wave that had begun at my feet breaks and I explode into her mouth. The orgasm seems to last for minutes, though I know this is impossible, as I fill her mouth with my semen. She swallows it, the first woman ever to do this for me, and I feel like I might come again just at the realization of it. Finally, when it is over, she pulls back, licks the head a final time, and lets me drop from her lips.

I am, in every imaginable way, spent. She looks up at me, smiling, as she tucks my cock away, zipping up the pants, buttoning them, and fastening my belt. Standing, she brushes her knees off. Without a word, she kisses me one final time, this one gentle, her lips barely parting, her tongue only greeting my own, brushing as we part. I can taste a little bit of myself on them and, spent or not, I stir a bit. Then she exits the room, pausing at the door and, in profile, blowing me a kiss.

Thinking it prudent not to be seen exiting a darkened classroom with her, I wait a few minutes until it seems likely that everyone has returned. Checking my watch, I see that the break is not technically over, so I walk calmly down the hall. People are still chattering as we prepare to return to the business at hand. She is sitting with a compact, fixing some microscopic flaw in her lipstick and, for a moment, I wonder if she has marked me, something I'll need to check before I return home. 

She does not acknowledge me directly, but she does smile enigmatically as I enter. Then, reminding me of the pleasures obtained mere moments before, she puckers her lips to spread the gloss evenly.

I surprise myself for the next hour with my savoir faire. I am active and engaged, even arguing directly with her over a point of interpretation. The only sign of our other involvement is a slight lingering when we make eye contact, long enough for me to be certain that it's intentional, but not so long as to draw attention. Neither of us yields, and a stalemate is declared.

When class ends, we both ride the same elevator down, in a crowd of our classmates. She is standing next to me, and her hand lightly brushes mine, lingering long enough so that I know, again, that it's not an accident. We walk off in the same direction, in the warm autumn night. I feel obscenely lucky and she seems to be sending signals, but I have no guarantee of any repeat. 

As she reaches her car, I look to see whether anyone is in sight. Seeing that the coast is clear, I grab her hand and gently turn her to face me. Then, once again taking her face in my hands, I plant a long and lingering kiss on her. She sinks into it, sighing as I hold her lips to mine. I decide to truly press my luck.

"Next week, wear a skirt."

Summoning more cool than I could possibly I possess, I turn away without waiting for an answer or looking back and begin the journey home.



Thursdays 9/22



Last week:

When I arrived at home that first Thursday night, it was only when I greeted my wife as she reclined reading in bed that I realized the magnitude of what I had done. In fourteen years of marriage, despite an occasional temptation and a half-drunk making out featuring an unfinished handjob at a Christmas party, I had not actively considered cheating on her. But as I kissed her hello, hoping that no vestige of my earlier encounter remained for her to sense, it all came home to me. To my surprise, instead of feeling guilty, I felt liberated. There seemed no need at that moment for one to impinge upon the other. I saw at that moment no reason why I could not savor the memory of my encounter and still love my wife. 

During the week, I resisted the urge to contact my classmate, to follow up and see if she would do what I had asked... demanded... of her. I was determined not to let the facade of cool I had erected crumble. So, on the day before class, I sent her an email with a two-word message, no signature: 

Conference room.

* * *

I come to class early, so I can be waiting for her, watching her enter, seeing how things might go. While I wait, I engage in idle chitchat with my classmates and, when she arrives, it is all I can do to tell my interlocutor to shut the hell up so I can stare. She walks in like she owns the place which, as far as I'm concerned, she does. 

My request has been granted; she wears a black skirt that hugs her hips and is tight enough that the apparent absence of panty lines sends blood rushing to my crotch. Her calves are muscular without being bulky, hallmarks of a runner born, a runner who might have trouble with the two-inch black heels she's wearing. Beneath the blue cotton top, her breasts bounce freely as she walks and I am struck by the notion that a thin layer of clothing is all that stands between me and her naked skin, skin I badly want to experience with my eyes, my hands, my mouth. Her hair hangs free, a wreath for her face, and I imagine it spread out across a pillow.

At no point as she crosses the room does she acknowledge me and, to my credit, my jaw does not drop. If I were to stand up and applaud, as I feel I should, I'm sure the rest of the room would notice my arousal. Thankfully, the situation does not call for that. When she sits, she finally turns her gaze in my direction, and the force with which it falls upon me is almost palpable. She does not smile, nor does she frown, she merely meets my eyes, holds them for a second, and then is gone.

The minutes until the break crawl by. Though I am engaged in the discussion, I am also painfully aware of her presence, of her compliance (as it seems) with my wishes, of the way she moves her arms and tilts her head as she speaks. As her lips move, it is difficult not to remember them pressed against my own and wrapped around my cock as she knelt before me in the darkness of the classroom. I find myself wondering how she remembers the experience, wondering if she is getting wet thinking about it as I struggle against a conspicuous erection.

When the break arrives, she is first to go and I feel the exhilaration and the despair of anticipation. I, too, leave and, oblivious to whether anyone is watching, I turn away from the body of my classmates, walk down the hall and around the corner to the conference room. The door is cracked open and, as I open it, she is slowly illuminated in the light of the hall. I step in and close it, so that her face is bisected by the sliver of light from the doorway.

There is no signal, no greeting. My mouth is upon hers, lips and tongue greedily seeking. She returns my kiss with equal ardor, insinuates herself against me. I raise my left hand to a breast, cupping it, weighing it, thrilling to the hardness of her braless nipple, which stands erect, as though straining for my touch. As I rub my thumb across it, she moans into my mouth and rubs my hardness. The breast becomes the center of my awareness, as I wonder whether I can make her come just by my attentions to it. Whatever I'm doing, it seems to be working as she desperately grinds against me; I'm in danger of coming myself.

Pulling away slightly, but continuing with the breast, I stick my right hand up her skirt. Her thighs are silky smooth and, as I trace one finger lightly up the inside, she moans ever so slightly. Goosebumps erupt in the wake of my touch which tracks higher until it reaches not the fabric of panties, but the wisps of her pubic hair. My finger seeks out her wetness, and she is sopping, finds her slit, and traces up and down, finding first her clitoris, and then the opening of her sex.

I slip my middle finger into her, sliding in and out, feeling her cunt pulse around it. Her breathing has become labored and I sense she is on the verge of an orgasm. Hoping to help her along, I seek out her clit with my thumb and, with a small amount of rubbing and the lightest of touches, I feel her tighten around my finger so much that I feel I will lose circulation. My mouth stifles her cries as her whole body tenses like a bowstring and then, the arrow flying, releases. Only then do I pause to look at her.

Her face, what I can see of it in the scant light is a mask of lust and, I daresay, of ecstasy. Her chest is heaving as she catches her breath. We stand there for a moment, wordless, looking. Then her hand is once again fumbling at my belt buckle, the button and zipper quickly undone and my engorged cock pulled free. I had no idea what to expect. My hope had been that perhaps I might get another magnificent blowjob. I was unprepared for her to hop up onto the conference table, hitch up her skirt, spread her legs and say "I want you to fuck me."

For a moment I am stunned. Then, "I don't have any protection."

"I don't care. Fuck me."

There was no thinking the matter over. I wanted her, had masturbated to the memory of her mouth on my cock and, yes, to the sweet dream of her silken cunt, for a week. I step forward to the edge of the table between her thighs and she takes me in her hand, guiding my tip to her entrance. Then she shifts her hips slightly and I am partially in. Her pussy is well-lubricated from our earlier activity, but it is still a tight fit. 

As I push forward, leaning my weight into, I can tell she is slightly uncomfortable and I am again struck by the odd notion that I might somehow be larger than average. The discomfort is not an obstacle to her, however, and my efforts to alleviate it by entering slowly apparently not appreciated. She sits up as far as she can, grabs my ass, and pulls me all the way into her, snaking her muscular legs around me.

It takes all the reserve I have not to come immediately. She is snug and the warmth is incredible, and I can feel her squeezing along the complete length of my cock. Where our bodies meet, the point where the lips of her cunt gape wide for me and where my balls momentarily rest against her pubis, I can feel the line separating inside from outside; her grip on me feels tightest there. She shifts slightly.

"Sorry," she says," you're a bit bigger than I'm used to."

If anything, this sends more blood rushing and I feel my cock twitch inside her, bringing a smile to her face and another soft moan to her lips. I pull back, and feel her labia drag along my length, feel the walls of her pussy close on my tip. Then, as I am almost all the way out, I plunge forward, feeling her open to me, enjoying the gasp as I force myself--not harshly, not gently, but rather steadily--all the way into her. She seems to like this motion, the straight back-and-forth so I keep it up. 

At first I hold her hips, but then I slide my hands up her slender torso, raising her top to reveal her breasts. The sliver of light cuts through one of her beautiful pink nipples, and I lean in to suck it, flicking it with my tongue, working the other nipple with my thumb, causing her to push even harder against me, holding on to my ass to keep from falling back to the table. Somehow I find the flexibility to keep pumping while I do this.

Without warning her orgasm is upon her. Her cunt squeezes my cock so hard that I worry about pulling out. But I stand straight up and continue thrusting into her through her orgasm as she lays back and lets me continue my assault. She seems oblivious to anything but my cock, and arches her back so high that it is a struggle to remain inside her. Then, as she subsides, my climax arrives. I grab her hips and literally shove myself fully into her and, in the little light, I see her eyes go wide and her mouth form a beautiful "O." I pour torrents into her and feel as though I might weep at the relief. A small cry that sounds in the silence of the room like a scream escapes her lips.

Afterward we relax there for a moment, my softening cock still inside her, in full awareness that we need to return to class and soon. We are both breathing heavily and will need a bit of work and a little coordination before we face our classmates. Then I withdraw, feeling her close behind me, hearing her sigh, dripping a small amount of semen on the table. Silently, we arrange ourselves so as not to give the appearance of two people who have just had sex.

As she begins to open the door I wrap on arm around her, drawing her to me, her back to my front, and I slide the other hand up her skirt, lightly rubbing once up the length of her slit. She leans her head back and moans as I plant a single kiss on her neck, her lovely neck that had so entranced me.

"Next week?" I ask.

"Of course."



Thursdays 9/29



Interlude:

As I look back on it, what surprised me most in the aftermath of that second encounter was not the lack of guilt--after its absence following the first I no longer expected it. Nor was it the wonder of the clear attraction, a mutual attraction, between this younger woman and me. I had never considered myself very physically attractive nor sexually magnetic in any way. But her willingness that second time, her refusal to simply repudiate what we had done, had me wondering. Even that was not what shocked me. No, it was the positive effect on my married sex life.

When I arrived home after fucking my classmate, it seemed destined to unspool as it had previously. My wife was once again reclining in bed with a book and, once again, I leaned in to kiss her. As I did so, I was keenly aware of the risk I ran. Though I had cleaned off somewhat, I worried that some trace of her perfume or of her scent might cling to me. Did my lips show the evidence of passionate kisses, or of their assault on her breast? If I was going to give myself away, it was going to be in that moment as I drew near.

A funny thing happened. As I kissed her, her lips parted and, without warning, we were kissing with passion, our tongues dueling as though for the first time. Our lips brushed gently as we would pull away to the point where there was almost no contact and then return full force. Abandoning caution, I pulled away the cover, running my hand up her thigh. I noted that they were still supple after all these years, a bit plump perhaps, but pleasing to the touch. When I reached her crotch, her panties were already wet, wetter than they had been in years. I pressed one finger against the fabric, right where I knew the opening of her vagina was located, and rubbed slowly in circles, thrilling to her gasps and sighs.

I had thus far had my eyes closed and now I opened them to look at her. She was still lovely though, like me, she bore an extra few pounds in her belly and thighs and arms. Her brown hair was splayed out across the pillow and I briefly flashed to the image of my classmate's red hair similarly arrayed I had had earlier. Her eyes were closed, she was breathing heavily, lips slightly parted. The fabric of her nightgown tented where her nipples poked forward from her full breasts.

Seized--there is no other way to put it--with desire for her, I reached to remove her panties. Obligingly, she lifts her hips and opens her eyes, a devilish smile on her face, spreading her legs once they have been removed. Then I removed my pants and crawled onto the bed between her legs. I rubbed my penis against her, causing her to gasp as I rubbed against her clit, and leading her to take me in hand and guide me to her opening. 

I slid in easily; burying myself slowly and gently to the hilt, listening to the catch in her breathing as I do so. Then, pulling back, I pressed forward gently again and began making love to my wife. I was surprised by her wetness, but totally unprepared for what this would be like. As her hips rose to meet me, I felt the familiar warmth of her, the softness as I thrust forward, coming to a rest in the cradle of her thighs, the tugging as I withdraw, the tangling of her pubic hair with mine. All of these things were familiar and I felt them all as new. 

Our gentleness as we made love, a gentleness not without passion (something noticeably absent in recent years) was an exquisite counterpoint to the fucking I had engaged in earlier. I slid easily like this for a long while, relishing the increased warmth and tightness as she came once, then again, and then one more time. Finally, after that third orgasm I came, the strength of my climax undiminished by my earlier encounter, and she rose to meet me, engulfing me completely in her, scratching my shoulder.

Afterwards I reflected on what had happened. I wondered whether she had noted something amiss and was staking a claim, whether some subtle and unconscious cue told her we should have sex. I'll never know. Nor will I know why I was suddenly so moved because, for so long, she had failed to move me, indeed had seemed uninterested in doing so. In the following week we had four more such encounters, each one a miniature symphony in passion and gentleness. It was the best week of sex, even excluding the conference room tryst, since we had started dating.

*  *  *

My paramour (for this is how I have come to think of her) twirls her hair absent-mindedly around her index finger. There is a new piercing at the top of her left ear and I wonder what it would feel like under my tongue. Thinking this, I realize I have not explored her lovely ears. I feel that I have neglected something important and promise myself to discover it when I have the chance.

Since our escapade the previous week, the presence of a skirt seemed a signal promising further delights. But this week, instead of appearing naked beneath her clothes, she wears a bra under a low-cut silk blouse, showing cleavage I would not have imagined to be there. She leans forward as she sits in her usual spot, giving me the full show. I smile, remembering the feel of her nipple under my tongue. 

Beginning with that moment, I notice that something has shifted. Several times in discussion we lock eyes, in a manner that to an outside observer--and I'm certain someone must notice--would seem inappropriate between a married man and a woman. Our flirtations grow somewhat bolder. Sooner or later we will be unmasked.

This increased lack of subtlety continues in the break. I am, as usual, the last to leave the classroom but, unusually, she is waiting by the door. Though there is no one else in sight, I feel exposed to the world, all the moreso when she takes my hand and leads me down the hall to the conference room. 

I am a bit taken aback by her forwardness which, in retrospect, seems a bit silly when I remember that a scant few minutes after I first kissed her she had let me come in her mouth. Still, it seems there are proprieties and courtesies to be observed. We have already crossed more lines than I ever expected, but none of those had the potential for ruin that our exposure would bring. As she closes the door I start to ask her, "What the hell are you thinking?" 

Almost before I can finish the sentence she is upon me, kissing me fiercely and rubbing my cock which, in spite of my concern, is rock hard and betrays what I really want. There is an almost desperate quality to the kiss in the aggressiveness of her tongue-play. She runs it alongside mine and along the ridge of my teeth, inside my lips, as though inventorying its contents. When our mouths part she sighs, as though with relief.

"I know that wasn't subtle, but I've been thinking about your mouth and about your dick all week," she says as she starts unfastening my belt and my pants. "I've been sitting there getting wetter and wetter just thinking about fucking you." 

She has my cock free and clear again, and begins stroking it, which causes me to moan. My eyes close.

"Have you been thinking about me," she asks.

"Yes."

"Have you been stroking your dick while you imagine my pussy tightening around it." She squeezes my cock at the base and pulls upward. The sensation of skin tightening is almost unbearable. "Have you touched yourself like this," she hisses into my ear.

"Yes, but not as well."

"You want to come inside me again?"

"Oh God yes."

I open my eyes and that devilish smile plays across her face. Then she turns and bends over the conference table, lifting her skirt to show me, once again, that she wears no panties, and resting on her forearms. The light from the doorway reflects off the pale skin of her ass and I take a moment to look at it, to touch it. It is firm beneath my hands, well-toned to the eye, and as I cup one of her cheeks, I trace it down between her legs and find her cunt, pressing a finger inside and feeling her shiver as I work it back and forth. 

She is moaning, rapt, almost begging. "Fuck me. Please."

I step forward, positioning my cock in about the right place, trying to avoid an accidental incursion on her anus. My initial thrust takes me too far forward and my head rubs against her clit, making her gasp. I pull back slowly along her slit and then begin probing forward, slowly. Finally, I catch at her opening, making her moan as she shifts her hips slightly to lodge me inside her. "Fuck me, goddammit," she moans, "take what you want."

Taking her at her word I grab her hips and thrust my cock all the way into her. I hear her sharp intake of breath and it is the last thing I hear as the inchoate lust takes over. Tightening my grip on her hips I literally ram into her, to the point where the sound of my thighs colliding with her ass sounds like someone being slapped. 

I fuck her like I've never fucked a woman before. There is no technique, no concern for anything but getting off. I am vaguely aware at some point of her cunt tightening around me, but even then I continue pumping until I feel my orgasm welling within me.

As it pours forth inside her I cry out and only then do I remember my surroundings. Again and again as I endure this prolonged ejaculation I pound into her until I am completely spent. Then I stand there for a few moments. She is bent over the table, panting, quaking. My cock is twitching inside her and with each twitch a soft sigh escapes her lips. 

At last, I release my grip on her hips, momentarily ashamed to have left small marks, as I pulled out of her. She stands, straightens her skirt, and then turns to me as I pull up and re-fasten my pants.

Before I can apologize for the bruises, she kisses me. This time it is gentle, her tongue caressing mine, allowing me entry into her mouth, her arms coming to rest around my shoulders while I, again, hold her hips, but delicately this time. Her lips mold to mine and, for a brief moment, we kiss like a couple in love. When we break the kiss she smiles.

"That was amazing. I can't wait to see what's next."

*  *  *

When I arrived home, I was once again struck by the dread of discovery. But again, my wife detected nothing amiss. Again, I kissed her and again I made love to her as if for the very first time.



Thursday's Child



***Monday's Child is fair of face, Tuesday's Child is full of grace, Wednesday's Child is full of woe, Thursday's Child has far to go, Friday's Child is loving and giving, Saturday's Child works hard for a living but the Child born on the Sabbath Day is fair and wise and good and gay.***

I remained absolutely still, doing my best to keep my breathing to a minimum. I even wished that I could still the beating of my heart just to please him. My hands were going numb from hanging on the X-frame and my legs felt like blocks of shapely concrete but I remained still. I had heard him enter the room so I knew he was there but I was too afraid to look. I know I shouldn't have been afraid but I couldn't help it. I had attended the Academy of Domination for the full thirteen weeks as my fiancé had requested and today was my final exam. If I did not pass, I would not get to marry the man of my dreams nor would I receive the $5 million dollars that he had promised as my personal dowry.

Justin finally came into my line of sight and I felt my body flush with blood under his discerning gaze. I couldn't help it. Just thinking about all the times we'd fucked set me off. His nostrils flared slightly and he ran a hand through his sculpted black hair. I knew he had smelled my pussy and I could barely stay still when he shoved one of his thick fingers into my canal. I tried to pretend indifference but my pussy sabotaged me, rippling against his fingers and coating them with honey.

"Toshi." His velvety voice stroked my fires just like his hot breath did against my skin. "My lovely China doll." Hearing those words, I was able to relax a bit. That was what I had been trying to do for him, to be his living doll. Response in shape and perfection. He happily nibbled on my earlobe. "My cock wants to be in your pussy. Will you accept me?"

"Always, Master."

"Always?" 

I glimpsed that peculiar way that his eyebrow cocked when he was questioning my answer. I stretched my five-foot-two, 105 pound body, letting my uncommonly large breasts rise and fall with my breaths and watched his eyes track the movement. "Always."

Justin moved in front of me, just close enough so that I could smell the sweet scent of the clove cigarettes that he favored and lowered his mouth to my neck. I could do nothing but shiver and whimper quietly as my master put his mark on me, sucking the fragile skin until needles of pain raced through me. He stepped back, licking his lips and seeking connection with my eyes by raising my head.

"You belong to me, my sweet Toshi. Your body, mind and soul are mine forever from this day forward." He nuzzled his nose against mine, holding my chin in his fingers. I trembled in anticipation. "You do nothing without my consent, nothing without my approval. You understand?" I nodded. "You may speak."

"I understand, Master."

"And do you agree to always abide by my wishes?"

"I do, Master."

"Always?"

"Always, Master."

His lips covered mine and I pulled against my bindings, aching to press my body against his but he just laughed, tweaking a nipple as he unbuttoned his shirt. "Today is your graduation day, my sweet Toshi." I watched as his smooth, tanned chest came into view, the flat planes of his muscles begging for the palms of my hands and his sand-colored nipples begging for the touch of my tongue. "I've been given leave by the Academy director to test you before you receive your graduation certificate. If you don't pass my test, our relationship is over. Do you understand?"

"I understand, Master."

"Good." He walked over to a table that held an array of shiny, sterilized utensils and picked up a long set of rubber-encased tubes, held together by a long screw on each end. A shiver ran down my back and I watched as he leaned down and licked and bit on both of my nipples, making them hard as tiny rocks. Using my nipples as handles, he pulled my breasts through the square opening and screwed the clamps down.

I wanted to scream but I bit my tongue, my eyes tearing with pain. Justin carefully watched my face. I wasn't allowed to look at him but using my peripheral vision, I could see a smile crease his features. That made such pride blossom in my chest that I closed my eyes to keep from crying with joy. Next, he applied razor-toothed clamps to my nipples, taking extra time to give them an appreciative lick before positioning them on the super-sensitive ends. Finally, he set five birthday candles in the smaller tubes on the top tube and lit them.

It took several seconds before the wax warmed enough to start dripping and I gasped at the sensation. Searing pain raced through my nipples, combined with the pain from the hot wax and spiraled right down into my pussy. I couldn't help the scream that escaped my lips as Justin shoved a vibrating eight-inch dildo into my aching pussy. I came instantly, whimpering through the smaller ones and tremors, the dildo buzzing within the suction of my cunt.

I opened my eyes at the touch of Justin's fingers on my cheek. "You're doing very well, Toshi. Master is very proud of you so far."

"Thank you, Master." I could barely force the words out of my tear-swollen throat and he heard my passionate restraint because he bent and gently kissed me, opening my mouth with his tongue and sweetly swirling inside. He wanted to say something else but he turned away, blowing the candles out. When he returned, he took the breast clamp off, leaving the nipple clamps and took it back to the table.

"You must do anything I say, sweet Toshi. Anything I say."

"Yes, Master."

Justin reached up and released my hands, then my feet. I flexed each, hissing at the prickles that signaled blood returning to them. He slipped out of his jeans and padded across the floor, getting on his hands and knees on the bed. "Get over here and clean me."

I leaned forward, intending on walking over but found that my legs weren't working too well and I fell onto the floor, wincing as the concrete floor scraped my elbows and the old pins-and-needles sensation set my legs tingling. Justin was glaring at me so I knew that I would be allowed no time to recover. I gritted my teeth and began to crawl towards him, biting my lip as my newly-scraped knees came into contact with the unfinished floor. Justin offered a small smile when I arrived but the mask the Master wore slipped back into place and he looked away.

My legs still stinging, I pulled myself up onto the bed and knelt behind him. I knew what was required of me. I performed this duty for my master every night. But tonight was different. I used my hands to spread his muscular cheeks apart and took a long sniff. I always loved the spicy, sweaty scent of Justin's butt crack but it was different tonight. My nose detected the smell of something sweet.

I started by licking the length of his as crack, from the triangular tuft of silky hair at the top to the textured skin of his balls near the bottom. The acrid odor of feces filled my nostrils but I had learned to ignore it. I delicately ran my tongue around the dark pink rim, drawing a deep moan from my master. He loved it when I acted like a neophyte in rimming, like I'd never done it before. I formed the tip of my tongue into a spear and pressed into the thick ring, humming when it opened for me. A strange liquid poured into my mouth, thick and white with occasional lumps. I knew from experience that it was semen.

"Remember Rich?" Richard Dalton was Justin's boss and held my Master's career in his hands. "I stopped by to see him on the way over. You're tasting my wedding gift." The joviality in his voice dissipated like a fog bank in morning sun. "Now clean me."

I pushed my mouth into his crack and wrapped my lips around his asshole, sucking the salty/sweet jizz out of his ass. Justin moaned with each suck, pressing his ass against my mouth. I could see that my ministrations were working on his; his rock-hard rod swung under his belly with his two gravid balls slapping my chin. I licked and sucked, sucked and licked until my jaw ached and finally, he moved away, fiercely fisting his cock and turned to face me. I obediently crawled forward and presented my face, closing my eyes and opening my mouth.

Justin's cum splattered across my cheeks and nose, the ropes looping into my hair and dripping over my forehead. Three more spurts painted my face with precious little landing in my mouth, which I regretted. I adored the taste of my master's cum. "On your stomach." I immediately assumed the prone position, placing my arms behind my back. My master shoved a ball gag into my mouth and secured the ropes around me, encircling my breasts. He tied another rope around each thigh and ankle and connected each line to one of several hooks.

Soon, I was suspended above the floor, hogtied, gagged and dripping semen. My master took a slow circuit around me, admiring his handiwork and satisfied, he went behind me. I moaned as his lips and tongue pumped my pussy, priming my cream pipeline and allowing me to suffer another small orgasm while he pinched my throbbing clit. Justin smiled, running a finger along my cum-covered lips.

"Home stretch, baby."

I heard the door creak open and light footsteps sounded over my shoulder. A slow smile lit my Master's face and he walked behind me, greeting the entrant with kisses. My stomach churned at the idea of my Master sharing himself with another but I remained silent, enduring the aches and pains of my restraints until he stepped into my line of sight again.

"I have someone to introduce you to." Justin reached over my shoulder and grabbed someone's hand. Another handsome man came into view, his sandy hair dropping into his brown eyes. "Sweet Toshi, meet Rich Dalton." The stranger came close and tugged on my nipple clamp, sending spikes of pain through my body and a stab of pleasure into my cunt. He was completely naked, his body close in fitness to Justin's but not as thick with muscle. "Rich, this is my intended, Toshi."

His dark eyes moved close to mine and I caught a whiff of woodsy aftershave. "Hello, Toshi. I have a wedding gift for you." He opened the envelope that he carried and displayed the contents to me before handing the check and documents to Justin. A check for $10 million dollars and partnership papers laid in my Master's hands. "These can be yours if you listen to your Master."

I nodded and dropped my head down, offering my complete subservience to this stranger and my Master gave me a loving pat. "Good girl." I closed my eyes and waited for Rich to take my body with my Master's blessing but after several long minutes, nothing occurred. A door clanged shut somewhere and the peculiar sensation of vertigo attacked me as I was lowered to the floor. Justin untied the ropes and massaged my legs, ankles and wrists, smiling warmly at me.

I wanted to purr; I felt so comfortable but I was confused. "Master?"

Justin didn't answer right away. He continued rubbing my various body parts until I was whimpering with pleasure. He removed the ball gag and clamps, using his hot tongue to calm the anger in those parts. I sighed, pressing my legs tightly together as my pussy responded to his touch. Finally, his mouth moved over mine and warmth spread through my limbs.

"Just because I prefer this lifestyle doesn't mean that I'm going to sacrifice my sweet Toshi." Tears welled up in my eyes, startling him. "Did you really think I'd let him fuck you?" When I nodded, he gathered me in his arms, kissing my forehead and cheeks, still sticky with his cum. "Never, sweet Toshi. You belong to me." He grasped my hands, raising my arms above my head and straddled my body. My legs raised instinctively and I trembled at the touch of the head of his cock at my sodden entrance. "Forever."

My Master slid deeply into me, enjoying every inch that was thrust into my pussy well. I squirmed beneath him, wanting to touch him but held fast by his strong hands. He moved smoothly above me, feeding his thick cock to my ravenous body and his tongue to my hungry mouth. I sucked on his tongue in rhythm to our lovemaking and within moments, we were both cumming, our mouths still locked to each other's.

"Congratulations, my sweet Toshi. You have earned your graduation certificate."

I grinned, kissed my Master's lips, then slipped into sweet sleep.



Thursday's Daydream



Tracy walked down the wooded trail thinking about how they could have enjoyed this little hike together. Hand in hand, a kiss at this turn, a rest at that bench, Michael's body pressing hers against that wide oak. She just wanted a little quiet time to be alone with her thoughts if she couldn't be with him, but that wasn't going to happen today either. She dutifully jotted down her notes about what plants and animals to research and made a valiant attempt to keep up her end of the conversation with her companion.

Back in the Jeep, Davey made the decision to drive on into the city for lunch. She agreed, but her heart fluttered in her throat at the idea of being that close to Michael and not being able to contact him. She wondered if Davey had any inkling that her mind was elsewhere.

Tracy adjusted her sunglasses and pulled on her straw riding hat. The open jeep always made a wild mess of her brown hair, but she loved the rush of wind around her while speeding down the road - and the hat and glasses hid sufficiently hid her emotional turmoil from the man beside her.

She closed her eyes and let her mind loose. Michael was driving. Tracy smiled and he leaned over to kiss her cheek quickly. She ran her hand along his thigh until she encountered the rough feel of his zipper. Tracy gave the growing bulge underneath a gentle squeeze and giggled. He playfully slapped at her hand and told her to keep it to herself until he could find a place to pull over.

Off the highway and down a county road, Michael turned onto a dirt road that was clearly rarely used and was hidden from prying eyes. He parked underneath a large shade tree.

"Now let's see what it was you were trying to accomplish earlier, " he teased.

"Just wanted to give you a little freedom and fresh air - that's all. Like this. . ." Tracy unzipped his pants and freed his member from the restraining material. "Doesn't that feel better?"

"Yes, it does. Let me show you how much better." Michael leaned over onto the passenger side and reached down beneath her seat. She felt the seat slide fully back. "Push the top back," he said "and lean the seat back."

Tracy obliged. She leaned back with the seat and watched him through half-closed eyes. He slid her skirt up and she felt his long fingers stroke up her inner thighs.

"Open for me," he ordered, "I want to feel to see whether or not you are ready to deal with the situation you've created."

She parted her legs for him. His fingers encountered her warm mound and he slid a fingertip into the waiting wetness.

"Ummm, " she moaned, "and what do you think?"

"I think I need to take advantage of that hot pussy you've been hiding from me and you need to take advantage of this nice hard cock, don't you?"

"Definitely. So slow and steady, or fast and furious, or are you going to throw in some fancy moves to impress me since it's been so long?"

"What's your preference? I aim to please."

Tracy reached up and pulled his face down toward hers. She kissed him gently, slowly, tenderly. She moved one of her hands to wrap around his erection. She whispered in his ear, "How about you just claim me again this first time? Slide that hard cock up into me until I beg you to stop. Own me with it. Use it to make my body yours. Remember how well we fit together? How you stretch me out?"

"Damn, woman - what does that mean?"

"It means fuck me like you own me. That's what I want." Tracy replied, "A good hard screw."

Michael nodded his understanding. He eased himself over to her side of the vehicle. "Not a lot of room to work with, Lady."

Tracy stroked his rock hard cock with her hands. He groaned in appreciation and told her to slow down or it wouldn't make it to her slick, warm pussy.

She pushed herself further up the seat back to give him room. He pushed up her shirt and pulled down her bra cups, exposing her breasts to the open air. He suckled one of her nipples, then nipped gently at its hardened bud. He slid a finger into her pussy and felt it tighten around it as he worked her breast with his teeth and tongue. She moaned in frustration and pushed against his hand wanting more.

"Open further now," he commanded. "Spread those legs wide for me and keep them that way."

She moved her feet and braced them against whatever she could get a foothold on. Her lower body was lifted toward him. He fingered her rhythmically, watching his fingers slide in and out as she lifted herself against them. Her breath caught in her throat and she gasped in agony when he leaned down and sucked her clit against his teeth.

"No dick until you come for me, Tracy" he teased. "Cum for me and I'll fuck you hard and fast. I'll pump it until you're full of my cum and you're begging me to stop, but you have to give me this first. Give it up for me. Let's see you grind against my fingers. Work them so I know you really want that cock."

"No cum until you fuck me," she answered. "I can play this game, too. I can whisper in your ear every dirty little thing I want to do for you and to you till you can't help but plug up that warm hole with your cock. I can tell you how I need to suck your cock until my jaws ache and you have to hold them open for me, so you can fuck my mouth. How I want to learn to deep-throat you until you shoot off down my throat. Or how about spreading open my ass-cheeks and reaming out that hot, tight asshole with your cock? Think about how tight that will be, how you're the only one that has ever done that. About how you make me crave it, and how you can spank me until I'm pushing and fucking myself in the ass with your hard cock."

"Tease," he growled.

"Not a tease, Michael. I just know what I need. Fuck me. Watch your cock go in and out, give my ass a good slap or two, so you can feel my pussy tighten around it. Watch me rub my little nub in time with your pumping or roll and pinch my breasts with your fingertips while you are inside me."

Michael rubbed the head of his cock against her pussy lips. He dipped it in slowly at first, wetting it down with her juices. He pushed in further and felt her tighten around him. He watched as his cock pumped into her. He saw her reach down and begin to rub at her clit while he was penetrating her. He looked up to see her smiling at his watching. "Touch your breasts."

Tracy did. He watched her stretch and pinch the nipples -harder than he would have imagined would be pleasurable. She really did enjoy a little pain, then. Seeing this, he gave her lifted ass a good hard smack. She responded by trying to hasten his pace and spreading herself out wider for him. He wet his finger and worked at her clit while fucking her. She bucked wildly when he began to get a little rough. He pinched her pussy lips together cruelly and then slapped at her mound, gently at first, then harder as she began to respond.

Tracy reached down underneath her bottom and fondled his sac. When he quickened his pumping, she pulled it up against her bottom and began to rub gently. She told him how she wanted to feel it slap against her pussy when he took her from behind -how when he bent her over she was going to spread her legs and hold it against her while she rubbed her clit. How she was going to hold them when he was fucking her mouth.

Michael pumped hard and fast into her. He put one hand over her mouth so she wouldn't talk him into coming before he was done with her. To his surprise, she liked it. She tongued the spaces between his fingers and moaned her appreciation when he increased the pressure across her mouth. She really did need for him to manhandle her this first time.

He removed his hand and replaced it with his lips. He pressed hard and roughly into her mouth with his tongue, thrusting it deep. She held his head and sucked at his tongue while his cock was pounding into her still wet pussy. Somehow, there was a slight shift in their position and he felt himself penetrating her even more deeply. He felt resistant against the head of his cock and knew he was pounding up against an inner wall. She twinged with the pain, but begged him to keep going.

"Harder, Michael- that's what I want. I want you to hurt me with it. I want to feel it for days, every time I move or breathe. Hurt me, fuck me harder and deeper."

He felt his balls slapping against her bottom. Her hands were on his butt-cheeks, pulling him further in. He knew she was fighting to keep from clawing him with her fingernails.

"Uhhhmmmm" she moaned. "So close, just want a pussy full of your cum. Cream it full. Shoot it in me hot and deep. Fuck it full. That's your pussy-tell me that's your pussy. Tell me you'll take it whenever you want it. Tell me you own me."

"My pussy, Tracy. My pussy, my mouth, my ass, my body. I own it. I'll take you whenever and however I want. If I want to eat it, you will spread it. You'll cum when I tell you to. You're going to be trained to be my little slut."

"I'm about to cum - cum hard. Help me. I don't want to yet, help me stop. I want more of your cock first."

"And you're going to get that." Micheal slowed his pace. He brushed her hair back from her face and smiled down at her. "Look at me, Tracy."

She opened her eyes to see him leaning in toward her. Still smiling, he touched his lips gently to hers. His cock stroked slowly and steadily inside of her.

"Whatever and however I want, hmmm? There's so much lost time to make up - so much experimenting I want to do with you - but for now I'm just going to screw you slow and hard while I watch you. I want you to look me in the eyes so I can see you feeling my cock inside of you."

It was almost too intense- an assault on her senses. Tracy had to fight to keep her gaze locked on his. She wanted to close her eyes and moan her pleasure to him. Michael saw a blush rise across her neck and face and felt her inner walls tighten around his dick. He felt her pussy slicken with warm readiness and knew she was close to coming.

"That's what I wanted, " he said. "I want to feel you come around my cock before I finish."

He moved one of her hands to her clit. "Rub it for me - I want to see what you do when you're alone and thinking of me."

Tracy obediently worked at the pleasure nub.

"No - I didn't say you could close your eyes - look at me." He gave her bottom and hard, burning swat with his hand.

Tracy warned him, "I'm so close - I can't take much more."

He rubbed and pinched at her left nipple in time with his pumping of her and got his cock squeezed in return. Her fingers moved faster and rougher against her clit and her breathing quickened.

"Next time, I'm going to fuck that sweet ass. Then you'll get a little of that pain you say you want. Give you a nice well-deserved spanking to loosen you up a little. Suck at your clit and nipples til you beg me for cock. . .that sounds like a good plan, doesn't it, my little trainee? You did say you wanted you wanted to be my personal slut, remember that conversation?"

"Yes. . .and I mean it. I've wanted to be yours for so long. My body is all that I can give you, so I want you to use it however you want. That's what I think about when I pleasure myself."

He drove down harder into her. Spreading her legs wider, she abandoned her rubbing and grabbed his buttocks to pull him in even further. His movements rocked the vehicle. Their eyes held while he claimed her body with his own.

Tracy cried out and closed her eyes. MIchael felt her pussy pulse as she came hard around his cock. His own release was immediate.

She felt him spasm and then the warmth of his cum coat her insides. He groaned as a second wave shook his body.

He lowered himself down onto his elbows and kissed her neck. She wrapped her legs around his lower back and pulled his face down into a kiss. She wondered how it would be possible to top this next time.

"Tracy."

"Tracy - you okay?" Davey asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just a little drowsy from the sun."

"Okay, whatever. Let's go."

Tracy opened the door and slid out of the jeep. She took the hat off and threw it in the seat, but left on the sunglasses. It just wouldn't do to have Davey see her eyes dark and stormy like this, full with the desire for another man. 



Thursdays: Snapshots of a Weekend



We are sitting in a restaurant. Thursday night She leans forward in that wonderful dress, affording me a view down the neckline of her breasts contained in a thin, lacy bra. Her hand reaches out and touches mine. Beneath the table, I slide my hand up her thigh, slipping a finger inside the crotch of her panties and rubbing her cunt gently. Her eyes close and her mouth opens slightly, and I watch her suppress a moan as I tease her opening.

Click.

We kiss our way up to the room in the glass elevator. I want her right there, but am able to restrain myself until we get to the room. There, I am in absolute charge. I undress her and kneel in front of her, tasting her cunt again, manipulating her most sensitive and private places with my tongue. 

Then I fuck her on the edge of the bed, her feet on my shoulders, plunging as deeply as I can. She seems to take joy from my desire, and I thrill to the way she writhes as I push against her again and again. Finally I explode inside her. Afterward, we share a tender moment as we kiss, her legs wrapped around me. We fall asleep together; I sleep naked, she in panties only.

Later, I awake and look at her in moonlight streaming through the window. Her pale skin gleams in the darkness and I am struck by the elegance of her impossibly long back. She is nestled against me, and I feel myself stiffen. 

Lightly, I begin to stroke her side, beginning at her hip and gently tracing its curve upward, continuing along her ribcage and grazing the swell of her breast. She stirs and moans, not quite awake. I repeat the stroke a few more times, and then back away from her, sliding downward so that I can reach the small of her back with my tongue. Making it as wide as I can, I lick up the indentation of her spine, thrilling to the light salty taste of her skin, feeling each of her vertebrae as I progress upward to the nape of her neck. She shivers as her breathing changes, telling me she is awake.

Moaning again, she presses back against me, feeling my hardness against her ass. I reach over her and cup her breast, circling her nipple with my thumb before rubbing across it. My hand begins to wander, running down her abdomen, between her thighs, a finger slipping along her panty-covered sex. 

She reaches down to take it in her own, drawing it to her lips and kissing it. I continue to stroke her for a long while, tracing a pattern around her breast, up over her shoulder, and down the indentation of her spine. All throughout she sighs her appreciation, insinuating herself against me until I feel like I'm about to come on her back.

Sensing my need, she deftly removes her panties and again nestles against me. She opens her legs slightly and I place my cock between them, pushing along her contour until I find her opening. I thrust forward, she shifts her hips slightly, and I bury myself in her cunt like this, driving into her until we are spooning. I lean my torso back slightly and hold onto her hip with one hand and stroke her back with the other. 

From this angle she fits me more snugly than ever. As I thrust my hips forward, she pushes her ass against me, allowing me to drive deep inside her. Looking down, I am able to see myself disappear, to see her lips spread wide, moving back and forth with my thrusts. She comes quickly like this, her cunt gripping my cock tightly, so that I cannot help but come, too. 

My orgasm is suprising in its intensity, seemingly echoing through my whole body. I arch against her, feeling the stretching of my legs, seeking to get just a bit more of myself inside her as I pump an unexpected amount of semen into her. 

Once it has subsided, I withdraw from her and, wordlessly, put my arm back around her. She takes my hand once more to her lips and kisses it. We drift off to sleep again.

Click.

We are at a dance, Friday night, one of the only worthwhile social events of the conference, and I hold her close, kissing her, oblivious again to anyone who might be watching. The dress she wears tonight is less elegant than the one she wore to dinner, red as her hair, with a skirt cut a few inches above the knees. The top is not as loose either, though I am close enough to see that she wears no bra. My hands are on her waist, hers around my neck. Her lips brush against mine, her mouth open, her tongue seeking mine. She brushes her pelvis against mine, subtly if such a thing is possible, until I feel like I might come in my pants.

Click.

We find a secluded hallway, having fled the dance. I trail kisses down her neck as she leans against the wall, again running my hand up her skirt until I feel the curls of her pubic hair, quickly realizing that she wears no panties. 

The hallway is dark, so I kneel in front of her, sticking my head up her skirt. I run my tongue along her slit, enjoying the natural aroma and taste of her cunt, made stronger by the day's prespiration. Her hands settle on the back of my head as I explore her folds with my tongue, occasionally probing her opening, but focusing mostly on her clit and the area in between. She shudders against me as she comes, the force of her orgasm pulling her off the wall.

Her juices smeared on my face, I stand, and she reaches to unbuckle my belt and open my pants. She opens them just enough to pull out my cock, stroking it, and moaning at its hardness. She leans against the wall and lifts her skirt just enough for me to get myself in the general vicinity of her opening. Then I stoop slightly, just getting the head in. She lifts a leg and wraps it around me and I am able to stand, lifting her slightly and sliding myself all the way in to her soaking cunt. 

Cupping her ass, I begin to press against her. Her raised leg provides the leverage I need and I am able to drive more or less forward, using the wall to support most of her weight. She rests her chin on my shoulder, whispering encouragement, as I awkwardly thrust into her, marveling as I lift her slightly each time. Her excitement is clearly building, and I am aware of our potential for discovery, so I pick up the pace. The familiar surge begins to build in my testicles and with one final thrust I pin her to the wall, firing off inside her as she tightens around me. 

There is no time for post-coital languor and I withdraw abruptly, quickly putting myself back together. As I zip, I notice a drop of semen on the floor. She sees me noticing and we both begin to laugh.

Click.

We are sitting on a bench in a dark corner of the park in the city center on the last night of the conference. We have been kissing passionately, our hands wandering. While I have been rubbing her breasts, her hand has rested on my crotch, moving up and down my length through my pants.

At some point, she unzips me and pulls my cock out, pumping me until I am on the verge of coming.

She stands up and then kneels in front of me, lifting her skirt enough so that she doesn't get stains from the moistening grass. Taking my cock in her hand, she runs her tongue up the underside, swirling it around the tip. Finally, she engulfs me, and I feel the familiar sensation of her tongue as it cradles me. Her lips drag up and down, quickly getting me over the edge she had driven me to with her hands. I explode down her throat in a torrent. 

When my spasms have subsided, she backs away and takes her seat beside me as I quickly tuck my shrinking cock back into my pants. She starts to say something, but thinks better of it and doesn't. There's nothing, really, for me to say, either.

Click.

We kiss good-bye at the airport. Once we have returned there will be no taking chances. I hold her against me, enjoying the sight of her in broad daylight, enjoying the knowledge that for most of the passersby this is perfectly innocuous. When we break the kiss, I look into those deep blue eyes for what must be the thousandth time this weekend. Neither of us seems on the edge of tears. 

"Thank you for this weekend," I venture.

"My pleasure," she replies with a devilish smile. 

As I board the plane, I slip my wedding ring back on. It feels slightly odd, its weight new again.

Click.

The last of the photographs falls from my fingers onto the dining room table. They are plenty damning, though not as explicit as they could have been and I wonder what the photographer might have in reserve. 

At the restaurant, in the elevator, dancing, in the hallway, on a park bench, at the airport—there is the story of our weekend in miniature, all neatly stuffed in a manilla envelope, waiting for me when I returned to a darkened house on Sunday night. I read the note again:

"I'll be back tomorrow. You should be elsewhere," followed by a single initial. Then, as a postscript. "How many?"

I replace pictures in the envelope and ponder how to deal with the note. Not seeing any good response for the moment, I settle on the one I 

can give.

"One."



Thursday's Trios



It was a gloomy, rainy Thursday evening in the city. Not much different then any other wet and windy day. But this was a special evening as you will soon find out. The evening began when Maurice left the hotel room to get Shelia something to eat. She was about to get into the shower as he was leaving. He quickly drove to the nearest restaurant which was about a mile away. Maurice was very eager to hurry back to his lady because they had an evening of excitement planned.

While he was out getting Shelia's dinner, a knock came at the door. Shelia did not hear it at first because she was still in the shower. A few moments later, she emerged and heard the knock. She thought Maurice had forgotten his room key, so she threw a towel around herself in order to open the door. To her surprise, it was Keith standing there with his million-dollar smile. He was dressed in a casual grey velour jogging suit with a white wife-beater looking like he had just left the gym from working out. His body did indeed look like he worked out on a regular basis. His chest was chiseled as well as the rest of his body. They greeted each other with a hug and friendly kiss. She invited him in and told him Maurice had stepped out, but would return momentarily. She went back into the bathroom to finish drying off from her shower. She told him to get comfortable and relax as she turned the corner. When she returned to the room, they continued to exchange small talk while she laid across the bed and Keith watch a basketball game that was on the TV.

A few moments later, they heard Maurice at the door. Keith jumped to his feet to open the door for Maurice because he knew he had his hands full. Maurice was also very surprised, but pleased to see Keith. They had not seen each other in some time. Maurice looked at Shelia with a twinkle in his eye. She shyly smiled back at him as she was well aware of what the twinkle meant.

Maurice handed Shelia her dinner and she asked Keith if he would like to share. He declined because he had just finished eating himself. Maurice and Keith caught up on what each other had been doing since they had last seen each other. The both watched the game in between their conversation while Shelia finished eating.

Shelia quietly excused herself while Maurice and Keith were engrossed in conversation and the game. She reappeared in the room a few moments later. She was wearing a sexy cutout stringy, see-thru chemise and stilettos. They both were taken aback by her sexy outfit and plump round ass while she put on some soft "ready-to-fuck" music. Even though Maurice was her man, she walked over to Keith and gave him a kiss. Maurice didn't mind because he knew what was in store.

After a brief embrace with Keith, Shelia turned her attention to Maurice. They were so in tune with each other, all their interactions were passionate. Shelia and Maurice had waited for this moment to have Keith join them. While Shelia and Maurice enjoyed the touch of one another, Keith was peeling off his clothes.

Keith laid on the bed while Shelia admired his muscular well-developed body. Maurice surprised them by turning on a lamp with a red bulb. Since things were about to get red hot, that was the perfect lighting. 

Shelia moved closer to Keith to see that his "manhood" was coming to attention. She slowly caressed his dick while Maurice looked on. They kissed and rubbed each other without hesitation or inhibition. Shelia wanted Keith just as much as he wanted her and Maurice wanted them both.

Keith was not considered gay or bi, but Maurice still wanted to feel Keith's dick in this mouth. As long as Keith thought he was going to get to fuck Shelia, then he didn't mind if Maurice sucked his long thick cock. Maurice eagerly awaited the opportunity to taste Keith's beautiful dick. That moment came as Shelia was kissing Keith. Maurice positioned himself to take Keith's throbbing dick in his mouth.

Shelia was not to be left out, so she began to lick Keith's dick also. They both sucked his dick as he moaned with pleasure. Shelia was turned on by having her man suck dick with her. Her pussy was wet and she wanted to feel Keith deep in her. Keith liked the sight of seeing Shelia bent over, so he moved behind her. She knew the time had come that she long awaited. 

Keith slowly rubbed his dick on her pussy as to prepare it for entry. By this time, Maurice had moved around in front of Shelia so she could suck his dick. He could tell that Keith was making is way into Shelia's tight pussy, because she stiffened as Keith opened her wet pussy with his rock-hard dick. The deeper Keith went, the harder she sucked Maurice's dick.

Once Keith was firmly in, he began to pound her. You could hear him slapping her ass while her pussy sounded like it was talking from the friction. Maurice was enjoying it as much as Shelia and Keith. Keith continued to fuck her harder and harder. This went on for several minutes until Keith busted a nut all over Shelia's ass.

After Keith was done, Maurice flipped Shelia over on her back and jumped right in that wet pussy. His dick was thick and hard from the sight and sounds of Keith fucking his girl. They both loved how Keith fucked her and whispered nasty thoughts to each other. Keith watched while they fucked.

Not too long, Keith had moved over Shelia so she could suck his dick while Maurice continued to fuck her. As Maurice fucked her, he could left up and lick Keith's nipples. The sight of Shelia and Maurice sucking on Keith's dick excited him. Keith was ready to bury his dick deep in Shelia once again. 

Maurice gladly gave way so Keith could mount Shelia and her wet pussy. He slapped her pussy with his dick and then stuck it in. She flinched with pleasure and he bent her legs back, exposed her wide open pussy and brutally fucked her. She loved the savage way he uncaringly fucked her. She begged for more as Maurice held her in his arms. Sweat was pouring down Keith's muscular back as he continued to bang on Shelia's pussy.

Keith invited Maurice to take his turn to pleasing Shelia. Shelia was hot with desire for the two of them. Keith said that they fucked like porn stars and enjoyed watching them. As Maurice was fucking her, he asked Keith if he wanted to fuck her in the ass. Keith's face lit up like a Christmas tree.

Maurice reached for the KY and condom. He oiled Shelia's ass and began to finger-fuck her ass. Shelia was getting even more excited as she thought about Keith ass-fucking her. She had no problem taking Maurice's finger. Keith positioned himself behind her as he slowly worked this dick into Shelia's ass. She moaned, but graciously took what Keith had to offer. 

Maurice was Shelia's support system. He talked to her while Keith slowly moved in and out with a rhythmic motion. They expressed their profound love for each other and the experience they were sharing. Keith continued to fuck her ass as if he had been doing it forever. She loved how he thrust his dick in her ass. She hadn't been fucked in the ass in years and enjoyed every inch of his dick.

After several minutes, Maurice asked if she wanted to ride his dick and have Keith continue to fuck her from behind. She was willing to do double-penetration. Her pussy was so wet that Maurice could hardly keep his dick in while Keith went back to fucking her ass. Shelia was so stimulated by the fact the Keith was ass-fucking her, her pussy was flowing like a busted damn. 

Maurice managed to get from under Shelia and her soaked pussy. Keith then went back to fucking Shelia's pussy doggy style. He was stirring it up and Shelia was wild with pleasure. She was throwing it back at him as hard as he was giving it to her. Maurice could plainly see Keith was about to release his hot load. At the point of no return, Keith pulled his dick out and shot his load in Maurice's mouth. Maurice didn't let a drop fall from his mouth.

Shelia laid there exhausted from pleasure, but confirmed that was the best fuck she had in a long time!!!! 

They all were amazed at what had just taken place. Once they gathered themselves, Keith had to bid farewell to Shelia and Maurice. Keith was attached and had to get home so his girl would not be suspicious of his activities. Keith gave Shelia a passionate kiss and hug. He thanked Maurice for a wonderful evening and then disappeared out the door.

After Keith left, Shelia and Maurice reminisced about the wonderful experience they just shared. Moments later, they were back fucking like wild animals. They fucked for several more hours as the rain came down hard. Finally, somewhere around 3:00 am, they ended their lustful and passionate love-making session.

Shelia still has fond memories of that rainy night with Maurice and Keith.