0 comments/ 9663 views/ 6 favorites Sara And 'The Man' By: Rex Siter There was no doubt in Sara Bastin's mind that the arrival of the person she called 'the man', had saved her marriage. Too often her times alone in their large house had her worrying over what had been two years of frustration with her husband Gordon. Gordon was handsome, sturdily built, great company, and she only discovered after a few weeks of chaste courtship, that he was very rich. Gordon Bastin had his own thriving financial business in the city. After a luxurious wedding, they had honeymooned in Paris, where Sara had her first insights into Gordon's inability to rise to the occasion. Having had only two drab affairs before her marriage she had been looking forward to real fulfilment. No such luck. He had purchased their beautiful six bed-roomed house, set in its own grounds, which Sara sometimes felt was really too large for just the two of them. They had a wide circle of friends, were invited to lavish dinners, but, sometimes she had to check herself from thinking how she would prefer a two up, one down, if only Gordon could stoke her fires. So many evenings in those early months, they had retired to bed, had kissed, touched, and brought themselves to that ultimate moment of entry. That was when Gordon's penis, never fully charged, inevitably went totally limp, or, as Sara guided it in its semi hard state towards her entry, he would gasp, and shoot white streaks into her bush. On one occasion, hoping that a blowjob might help him, she had found her face and hair liberally spattered before his penis was no nearer than six inches from her mouth. Gordon was so devastated himself, and she could never tell him how utterly frustrating it was for her. But he knew. So often their sessions ended with him getting her to climax by using his fingers on her tender parts. He became quite good at it, but it could never recompense for the full sexual joy of having him inside her. They were twenty one months into their married life when Gordon declared that he was going to see a sex therapist to try to resolve his problem. Sara felt so sorry to see him in the depths of despair at his own inadequacy. In spite of everything, Sara loved him dearly, and hated to see his impotence, dragging him down from the vital character he had once been.. Apparently the therapist had been helpful, he had thought it was probably a psychological problem, and he had made some suggestions that they might try to improve their sex life. But after a further three months, no notable improvement was apparent. They had been married for exactly two years when, what Sara was later to call, 'that special Monday', came along. It was a bright July day. Sara had prepared Gordon's breakfast as usual. She had watched him, in his smart grey suit and blue shirt, go through his daily ritual, of sipping a last mouthful of coffee, giving her a quick kiss, before, brief case in his left hand he marched to the front door. On this particular Monday, when he had opened the door, he had looked back at her. His smile was broad as he asked, "You going to wear some clothes today?" His eye wandered up and down her body, semi exposed in her loosely belted robe. "What would you suggest?" Gordon glanced outside at the weather, "Looks like being a scorcher. You'd be better in something summery." With that, he was gone, and she waited, as she always did, until she'd heard his Jaguar start up, and drive away. Then, with an unspecified excitement rising inside her she hurried upstairs to her bedroom. Something summery? In no time, she'd dressed in a thin, silken, button up dress, thin panties, and no bra. Sara was just a little proud of the firm standing of her breasts. She scampered downstairs and went into the kitchen, picked out one of her cookery books and began selecting a meal she could prepare for Gordon when he got home that evening. Having chosen a recipe, she was checking that she had the necessary ingredients, when there was a rather loud knock on the door. She glanced at the clock, which showed just after ten. As she hurried through the hall, she wondered why she should feel slightly nervous. Being alone in the house never usually worried her. Opening the door, she drew a deep breath at the sight of the tall, good looking man standing there, a warm smile on his face. He was wearing blue jeans, with a red checked shirt, sleeves rolled up tight over muscular arms, and Sara was quite taken by the utter masculinity of him. Her heart was beating just a little faster, as she asked what he wanted. The man's eyes regarded her coolly, as he replied, "Excuse me for the intrusion, madam, I'm from pest control," And he held up what looked like an identity card, which Sara had little time to inspect as her eyes took in his imposing figure. "We've had reports of a rat infestation in the area, and I'm being charged with ensuring all houses are clear." "A rat infestation?" Sara asked, wondering about this feeling she was having, this mixture of hope and fear."We've had no rats." "No, madam, but we're just playing safe. Would you allow me to inspect your downstairs regions." Sara wasn't sure whether a smirk crossed his face at the way he had phrased the question, but he went on. "You do have a cellar?" Sara nodded, and when he asked if she could show him, she stepped to one side to let him in. His body squeezed along her side as he entered. Hadn't she left enough space for him? Leading him to the cellar door, she was asking herself 'would I normally allow a man into the house so easily?' She opened the cellar door and reached for the light switch, as he attempted to squeeze past her, and for a second time his body was pressed against hers, so briefly, yet so tellingly. She was beginning to feel worryingly warm in her lower body. The man went quickly down the stairs, and took, what Sara thought was a cursory look around the edges of the walls. "Yes," he called, "if you could just take a look at this." Uncertainly, Sara moved down the stairs, very aware that he was below her, looking up her skirt, she was sure. Once down she followed him to one corner, "I always look for a place where an entry can be made. A place like this, feel." Sara bent and held out a hand to where he was pointing, where there was a slight crack between wall and floor. As she groped, he leaned over, took her wrist and guided her fingers to a small fissure. "There, feel it? I like to fill all cracks." And as she stood up, he did not immediately release her wrist so that, momentarily he had it trailing up his sturdy thigh. Her face red, and her blood pounding, Sara stood up as the man thanked her for her cooperation, and then said, "Could I trouble you for a drink of water?" Sara led the way upstairs, wondering if that was genuine moisture she could feel between her thighs, and she was also wondering where his eyes were looking as he climbed the stairs close behind her. She led him into the kitchen, and knowing she was entering dangerous territory, she asked, "Would you prefer a cool beer?" "That would be very kind of you." He seemed to be standing unnecessarily close behind her as she opened the fridge door. Nervously placing two cans of beer on the bench, she stretched up to the cupboard for two glasses. "You have a husband?" the man asked, and now he was standing really close. "Of course," she said, her hands frozen at the cupboard door, as she added, "And I love him very much." "Good," he said, and the next moment she felt him pressed against her back, as he added, "But--," and his hands wrapped around her to spread wide over her belly. "-- does he fuck you?" That word hung in the air, as Sara desperately asked herself why she wasn't struggling. Why should breathing be so difficult? She just couldn't concentrate on anything. Something was going to happen, and she couldn't duck away from the idea that she wanted it to happen soon. All she could manage was the breathless statement, "You're no pest controller, are you?" Something hard was pressed against her buttocks, something she feared, or something she longed for. The time was near. Time to challenge or time to scream? But she knew very well that she wasn't going to scream, knew well that the moistening between her thighs was real. The man behind her had an erection---for her. "What time does he get home?" his voice was barely a whisper. "Why are you here?"she asked, ignoring his question, almost stupefied by the emotions that were running through her whole body. The man's hand had undone one of the buttons on her dress and was now sliding over the bare skin of her belly. Did her skin actually tingle under his touch? Could she keep any kind of control? Why wasn't she stopping him? Her breathing became even more irregular, as though she'd run a mile race. "I've been observing you for a long while. Call me a stalker if you like." And his chuckle beside her ear wasn't at all frightening. "I think you know why I'm here. I'm here to satisfy you." Yes, she did know why he was there. It was like something preordained. But, God, how she wanted it to start. Twisting her body round so that she was facing him, she cried, "Prove it!" And her mouth mashed against his. Instantly, his tongue was searching for hers, and he was clutching her tight against him, half lifting her so that she could feel the bulge in his jeans, pushing into that part of her where she needed it so much. Their lips still clamped together, the man eased back and began to unbutton her dress with one hand, while the other reached for her bare breast as it came free. Sara wrestled with his belt buckle, and pushed at his jeans. Crazily, still kissing, they staggered across the floor, like drunken dancers, as he ripped her flimsy panties away, and Sara managed to push jeans and boxer shorts down. His erection was freed. She couldn't see it, but her hand reached for it, and it felt like a hot steel bar, as their staggering brought the back of her thighs against the kitchen table. Sara knew so well that the next few minutes were crucial. Could this marvellous erect penis achieve placement? Could it? Would it? She longed for it, craved it, and the man was leaning her back on the table. My God, was he going to do it? Was she going to feel the reality after such a long time? There had been little real foreplay. On this occasion she needed no foreplay. She desperately needed penetration. All in one movement he was over her and inside her. His solid penis was filling her, massive, yet travelling so smoothly, that she groaned with the sheer ecstasy of the sensation. This was what she had longed for. This wonder, this passion. He broke their kiss as he thrust again and again. His face above her revealed his own pleasure as he whispered, "It's good. It's going to be better." Sara's whole being was glowing, as her vaginal walls tried to match every thrust he made, while her hips rose to encourage him. He was so powerful, and it was all so surprisingly sustaining that Sara knew she was approaching some massive conclusion. Just three more strokes and her whole body shook with the exquisite forces that tore through her. Her mind went adrift of the kitchen and was somewhere else, as she climaxed, and realised that he was still pushing into her. That was amazing, unbelievable, but then he gave a loud gasp and his surging penis pressed and released pulse after pulse of his cream deep inside her. The man lay over her for a while, his head buried against her neck, before he looked into her eyes, and murmured, "It was good." She gave a weak half smile, "It was better than just good." Before he left, he asked if she would wish him to call again, and Sara had no hesitation in giving her positive answer. Then they agreed that there were to be no names. He was merely 'the man', and she would be what he had already called her, 'madam'. When Gordon came home that evening, Sara was aware of his eyes on her as they sat at the dining table. "Why are you staring like that?" she asked. He shrugged, "You look different. Have you had something done?" She had the answer all prepared, "I went to a beautician. Do you approve?" Gordon told her she looked amazing, and agreed that she should see the beautician again. He had smiled as he said it, and she had returned his smile. He had just reaffirmed in her mind that the meetings would continue. And that had been day one. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday since that day, the man would come to the door, always about three quarters of an hour after Gordon left for work. As each week passed, their individual techniques together improved, as they devised all kinds of new activities to feed their lust for each other. Chasing games were popular, mainly with her running, unclothed, away from him, and wherever he caught her became the place for their coupling. Hide and seek was a favourite too, and, if he couldn't find her inside fifteen minutes, he had to treat her to every sexual delight she demanded. When he hid, if she hadn't found him, within fifteen minutes her first act had to be a complete blowjob, although sometimes he would permit a 69. If a search was completed successfully in the time, Sara was always the winner/loser because the rule was instant intimacy, which had to take place at the hiding place. So it was sensible to find somewhere comfortable. Foolishly, one Friday, Sara had hidden in a tiny alcove on the corridor of the second floor, hoping he would just run past. He didn't. Triumphantly, he had stood in front of her, his erection pointing at her naked form, as she cowered back against the narrow wall. "Please, sir, let me go," she giggled, knowing exactly what was coming, and it came very fast indeed. The man pressed his body against her, pinning her against the wall, as he slid his eager erection between her compliant thighs, and up into her equally eager vaginal passage. His hefty thrusts lifted Sara off her feet, as the friction of his magnificent rod electrified her whole body, and she was able to wrap her legs around him to be skewered there, as they each quickly surrendered to the throes of their passion. Exhausted they collapsed, clasped together, laughing, on the corridor carpet. On that occasion, they managed, eventually, to struggle to a bed, where, after a long rest, snuggled together, he took her hand and led it down his body. Sara was amazed that his penis was erect once more. "God, you're hungry today." Sara said, in a genuine surprised tone. "He is," the man affirmed. He sat up and looked down into her face. "Before I go, how about a tour, and a gentle farewell screw?" That's how it developed hour to hour Sara never knew what direction their passion would take. In this case she knew exactly what was coming, and she was hot and eager. She had no objections especially since she knew how much he enjoyed it. So she lay back as the man sat right up over her with his erection up over her head. Without guiding it himself, he trailed it through her dark hair, only touching it to wrap some of her hair around it. "I love that feeling," he whispered. He moved his body so the penis trailed across her cheek, over her lips, at which point he said, "Tongue." And Sara dutifully put her tongue out to lick the solid member as it passed, to run on down her neck and trace along her shoulders. The man shuffled again so that his erection slid onto her upper chest, and he moved her arm up so that his rod could be pushed firmly into her armpit. Sara knew to bring her arm down tight and imprison him in that position. She didn't keep it there long, and the man leaned over her so that the erect penis bumped free over her breasts, one and then the other, giving little stabs at each nipple as it travelled. It stopped between the breasts, pointing upwards and the man placed a hand on each breast and pushed them together around it . While in that position he gave a few hip thrusts so that, on the forwards push, the bulbous head came close to Sara's chin, and by raising her head she could just get her tongue tip at the tiny split in the penis head. It was always pleasing for her to hear his appreciative grunt. Next the roaming penis was traversing her belly, ploughing into her bush and by this stage Sara would know she had moistened once more. But, ever devious, the man sat back and turned Sara over to lie on her stomach, in which position he parted her thighs. She felt the penis begin trekking over her buttocks and down the inside of one thigh, returning up the inside of the other. Now the man parted her buttocks, and his rod was coasting along the widened crack, briefly he pushed her cheeks together to hold the penis there. When it was released it drifted to touch her anus. Sara's breath quickened. They had talked about daring to do that sometime, but so far had always pulled back from a full anal entry. The quick dart of the penis head into the small aperture had her wondering how exciting it might be. But the penis moved on, and the man had it lying along the length of her labia, where he swayed his hips to have it trailing back and forwards for a short while. Sara loved having the warmth of it there. Loved it more when the man used his thumbs to part her labia, and the penis head on its forward trundle touched Sara's clitoris, again and again. Sara felt her moistness increasing, and was delighted when the man reached for a pillow to tuck under her lower belly. This lifted her buttocks, and presented her vaginal entry for his next move. She could hardly wait. From a cool beginning she was now hot for what he was about to do. She wasn't disappointed, as the man rolled between her parted thighs, and presented his erection at her entry. It was Sara's own jerk of her hips which welcomed it inside. The man pushed, ever so slowly, so that the journey up towards Sara's cervix was exquisitely long, and the drawback was equally slow and deliberate. Sara's whole vaginal area was aflame once more. Her nerve ends were rejoicing at this calmly seductive movement. The man and Sara kept it at that pace for several minutes. In one sense, Sara never wanted it to end, this soothing, sensuous togetherness, but on another level her mind was looking forward to those final desperate, delicious, devastating thrusts. For only a moment the man slid his hand under her to stroke her clitoris. That set her totally alight, and, just as she began pushing her hips back against him more eagerly, so his pace increased. Faster and faster they bonded together until at last, and in perfect unison, they hit those final bursting thrusts that set them both aglow, as his scrotum evacuated into her eager womb. Their mutual gasps of delight flowed around the bedroom. Those magical moments with the man were set to go on for at least two months. On his every visit he always asked what time Sara's husband might be home. That was to become very relevant in time. She loved Gordon, her husband, but so many nights of his sexual failure had made her a desperate woman, and he knew it. Sara's further sexual exploits with the man will be found in Chapter 2 Sara And 'The Man' Ch. 02 This chapter will be much more meaningful if Chapter one has been read first. ***** Sara Bastin had been married to her husband Gordon for just over two years, yet their marriage had never been fully consummated. That particular morning, as she watched him picking up his brief case, she knew, and hoped, that her day was going to be the kind of day, she'd been experiencing for nearly two months. Dressed only in a silken gown which she had thrown on over her naked body in order to prepare breakfast, she stood near the front door awaiting his standard farewell kiss. He approached her now, on his way out to his lucrative financial business in the city. He bent and kissed her chastely on the lips, before asking his standard question, "Any plans for today?" "Not really. Maybe a trip into the city later. Maybe not." Gordon closed the front door behind him. Sara heard his Jaguar starting up, and driving away along the imposing drive, towards the main gates, and once again the thought struck her that the house was much too big for just two people. She moved to adjust the latch on the door. The first tremors of excitement started inside her, as she mounted the large wide staircase. Wondering what she should wear, she hurried to her room, and picked out the yellow dress that she knew the man enjoyed, because it had large button holes that facilitated easy removal. Then it was gown off and the dress on, no panties and no bra. She knew exactly what he would do, and the thought had her moistening. Going back downstairs, she heard the sound of a car approaching and being driven around the side of the house so it was not in full view. The car door slammed, and she moved nearer to the porch, her breath quickening. His so familiar knock sounded, two slow strikes and then three quick... "Just push," she called, and licked her lips, as the door swung back. And there he was, the man, raging masculinity, dressed in jeans and red checked shirt with sleeves rolled up tight over muscular arms. His eyes had already removed her dress before he'd even touched her. First he asked the standard question, "What time will your husband be back?" Then as he moved slowly towards her, he asked, "Are you wet?" "I am," she sighed, but turning away, she called, "but I don't want any today, thank you." Laughing, she dashed towards the stairs, and had reached the third step when she felt his hand snatch at her dress. As she kept trying to run, the man pulled and, as expected, the buttons popped loose Shrugging herself out of the dress, Sara reached the top of the stairs, turned to see him striding up, a lascivious smile on his face, and the dress still clutched in his hand. She stood there, naked, legs wide apart, arms thrown out, "See anything you would like?" she challenged. He had increased his pace, "I'm going to get a mouthful of that pie," the man growled, and Sara laughed and turned to hurry away. This particular game was occasionally a feature of their meetings, but today she had misjudged his pace. As she began to run, his hand closed on her ankle and she stumbled onto the deep pile carpet. One twist of his hands had Sara over onto her back, and the man was above her, his face a mask of lust, "Right here, or on a bed?" he asked huskily. "Oh, I'm getting a choice today, am I?" She loved this, the way she never knew which way things would work out from meeting to meeting. His expression did not change, as one hand played over her breast, while the one that had held her ankle had slid right up her leg to finger her crevice. "Only a choice of location. Not of method." Already trembling at what his hands were doing, she hissed, "Bed, oh yes, bed." Without further ado, he swept her up in his arms, and holding her as though she was a doll he said, "Which one?" "The nearest, the nearest," she gasped, unable to keep the desperation out of her voice. She was longing to feel him ramming up inside her. The man carried her to the nearest door, pushed it open, and took her to the bed. It was what would have been a guest bedroom, similar to four others, with a wide window, white furnishings, a Queen size bed, and en- suite. Sara found herself being carefully laid down on the bed, surprised that her buttocks were so near the edge with her feet just touching the floor. The man had grabbed a pillow which he tucked under the small of her back to raise her slightly. She was only puzzled for a few seconds, as the man knelt and buried his face into her wetness. "I don't need-"she started to gasp, but knew he would already have guessed she didn't need much stimulation. But stimulation was what he was delivering, as his tongue explored the length of her wetness, drilled teasingly at her entry, before slithering, slowly yet slickly towards her clitoris. As if that wasn't driving her to the very edge, his fingers were also playing their part. His right hand had reached up to stroke her breasts, the fingers there playing a tune on her nipples. But his left hand threatened to be the one to do the damage. His fingers were trailing wherever his tongue did not touch. At that moment, while his tongue licked at her clitoris, his finger traced around the rim of her vaginal entry. Sara's hips rose to meet his mouth, her nerve ends tingled and she had to tell him that she wasn't going to be able to hold back. But her breathing was so difficult that she couldn't mouth the words. It was the fingers tickling her nipples. No, it was his tongue teasing at her clitoris. Oh, God , it was everything about him. But then, without warning, she was falling into that sublime realm of climax that she could hardly believe, as one of his fingers entered her vagina, while another pushed one inch into her anus. Both orifices begged for more, but Sara was no longer aware of anything, her mind was lost in the explosion that shook through her body. Vaguely she was aware of the man gripping her trembling thighs and pushing her further back onto the bed. Through a fog she saw him pushing his pants down, and that gorgeous steel rod that had brought her so much pleasure was moving up between her thighs. Sara closed her eyes. He was going to be too late. Her orgasm had happened. Then his lips sought hers, and she accepted the kiss gladly, tasting herself, which was not a new experience. At the same moment his so solid penis glided deeply up into her vagina, going up and up until his pubes were pressed to hers. Then it was slowly drawing back, leaving that empty feeling, but immediately the upward plunge came back. As he rode back and forth inside her, Sara had begun to enjoy the kiss, knowing they could only be waiting for him to shoot his cream into her. How could she be so wet, so sated, yet his penis still felt so immense inside her, and she was aware of every inch of it along her vaginal walls? Determinedly, she had her muscles pull at his superb rod, but it just kept riding up into her. Under his lips he must have been aware of her own lips trembling, or maybe he felt her hips beginning to rise and fall in tune with each of his lengthy thrusts up into her. Oh, she knew what he was trying to do. He had done this more than once, making her cum a second time, but she wouldn't fall for it this time, would she? Her whole lower body was beginning to open out. It didn't matter what she was trying to do, she was totally helpless under the onslaught of this steely shaft. Up and up, slowly down. Ah, he'd gone, hadn't he? But the next minute like some express train riding a tunnel, it was flaring up into her again. Her spasms were starting. My God, he had got her again. Her hips thrust up at him as she flung her legs up and around him. Her head began to toss so that the kiss was broken. She knew she had lost another battle. But losing this battle was like the most joyous victory, as once again her whole being throbbed. Her hands clutched at his muscular buttocks pulling him onto her, further into her. Was that possible? Could he really get any deeper into her? Then she heard the gasping screams that she knew could only be coming from her. He had taken her over the edge again. As that realisation hit her, the man grunted audibly, and she knew he was delivering his own final thrusts. That joint arrival was fantastic, the head of his penis struck against her cervix as his sporadic jerks told her he was finally spouting his stuff up into the very heart of her. His pleasure was her joy, and at the height of her passion, she knew she would want to repay him for what he had just given her. They lay still for a long time, recovering their breaths, recovering their senses. "Good?" he asked at last. "Better than that." This was always her stock answer to that question. After a further spell, he said, "I'm sorry I can't stay the full day. I have a must-be-at meeting this afternoon." "I'm sorry you can't be here forever to play our games." He laughed, "Playing our games like that, we'd both be dead in three days." Sara laughed with him, and then suggested they shower. The shower cubicle was just big enough for them to stand in together under the streams of warm water. Standing there skin against skin was good enough, but when it came to the soaping it moved onto a higher plain. His hands slid over her breasts with such gentility, having them stroking over her belly was a delight, but when his hands moved over her bush and between her thighs it was as though there had been no earlier sensuous session, and she wanted it all again. She started on him by soaping his back with wide, open-handed strokes. His sturdy buttocks were so firm and yet so smooth, and she even managed to let her fingers slither into his crack which made him jerk. Then she was onto his front and his broad shoulders and chest, and on down to his limp penis, which even in that state seemed considerable. Of course, the moment she began running soapy fingers over and around it, as well as shuffling suds over his scrotum, there was an instant reaction. "Phoenix is rising", she laughed. They dried and had soon returned to the bedroom. "Lie flat on your back," Sara ordered, and as the man gave her a questioning look, she added, "You have a problem that needs seeing to." Obediently he lay back, and Sara kneeled alongside him, taking his semi erect penis into her hands. Very gently she caressed it, running her fingertips over the purple head, and along the full length. She fondled his scrotum, feeling each of his balls separately. It only took a short length of time before his erection was back to its steely best. Sara bent her mouth towards the man's hefty tool. Once upon a time, she had been pretty sure she would hate doing this to any man, but she had found that under the influence of sexual excitation, it was a logical reprise of any pleasures received. Her tongue licked around the smooth head, treating it like a lollipop for just a moment or two. Then she licked her way down the full length, stopping off at the man's scrotum, where her lips played over the rippled skin, before she took each of his balls into her mouth and sucked gently. It was a delight for her to fell his stomach muscles tense at that, and hear his little grunt of pleasure. Sara trawled her tongue along the great vein on the underside of his penis, and thought about the challenge ahead. She had already had many examples of how controlled he could be. Past sessions with him had educated her into the best way of getting him to gift his sperm into her throat. She held his penis up, opened her mouth, and leaned forward so that about two inches lay on her tongue. Then she lifted the penis off her tongue, which she then waggled to tease the underside, before placing it back, and closing her lips around it. Slowly, very slowly, she moved her mouth along his rod, so she could feel the head sliding along her tongue, until her lips were pressed against his pubic hair, and the tip of his prick was all but going down her throat, just short of gagging point. All the while, she had learned to listen for responses from the man. Even at this early stage he was breathing quite heavily, and one of his hands had rested on the back of her head. As she drew back she wriggled her tongue under it, and knew, from the tension of his belly that the movement had an effect. Sometimes she did wonder if, for a man, there were times when a woman's mouth had greater powers of persuasion, than her vagina. Now Sara began a steady forward and back motion with her mouth, which the man acknowledged by the weight of his hand on the back of her head. On one or two back strokes she allowed her teeth to close tenderly around his rod, just enough to increase the sensation. After just a few strokes she deliberately added sucking to her forward strokes, her cheeks and tongue drawing at the steel rod, and there was no doubt that the man responded to that. His hand on the back of her head, flattened and pulled, and a couple of times she heard him murmur something low in his throat. Sara increased the influences when she placed one hand under his scrotum, and squeezed gently. So it was, push, suck, retract, lick, and all of it quicker and quicker. The man's hips began pushing his erection up towards her. His breathing was much more frantic, and Sara knew for certain that very soon he would be flooding her throat.. It was strange how she longed for that moment. There was no real physical thrill in it, but she knew well that sense of power it gave her. In this case, the man might be good at sustaining his erection, but just knowing he could be reduced to this gasping, heaving mass was so stimulating. Then, as she had anticipated, it was upon him, and his hand pressed her head down as his hips rose, and his penis head was deep in her throat as it threw off spurt after spurt. Sara swallowed over and over again, wondering how he could have produced so much so quickly. "Oh, God, madam, you're so good at that," he groaned. Sara couldn't reply immediately, as his erection only slowly subsided. But at last it slipped out of her mouth, and she licked away one lingering little string. Then she said, with mock severity," What do you mean, 'good at that'? Is that all I'm good at?" He reached for her, and they lay quietly together until it was time for him to leave. "Wednesday seems a long was off," the man sighed. "For me too. I'll fill in part of tomorrow taking coffee with the girls. I say girls, all married, twenty five to thirty five." The meetings with her three friends, Jen, Steph, and Dena took place roughly once a month and they had always followed a certain pattern. Coffee promoted conversation dealing with fashion, good shopping experiences and general gossip. Then, a strict single glass of wine, during which talk became much more intimate, husband behaviour, sexual secrets and all things physical became the order of the day. That day it was Jen's turn to be hostess, and Sara was interested to hear more about a man she had mentioned last time. Jen lived in a fairly comfortable three bed-roomed house in a quiet suburban avenue. Her husband worked away for long periods, and last time she had shocked them all with talk of an occasional dalliance she was having with a certain Victor. She had actually recommended him to the group. "No strings. He doesn't want to be tied down. He has golden hair," she had giggled playfully, " even round his considerable prick." "Considerable?" Dena had queried. She was married to a banker, and lived a life that advertised that fact. Although she frequently moaned about his low sexual urge. "Always too busy." "Meeting, meetings, meetings, they're never ending." In answer to her question, Jen had nodded enthusiastically, "He is very well endowed, even though he's quite small in stature, and, believe me, -" She rolled her eyes—" he knows what do with it." Sara had not been long with 'the man' so she kept quiet, and just listened without the remotest sense of envy. On this particular day the four ladies quickly got beyond the coffee stage, and sipping delicately at the wine, they looked to Jen for an update on the Victor situation. At least Sara and Steph did, and both were amazed when it was Dena who piped up, "Everything that Jen said about him is true." "You've been with him?" Steph gasped in surprise, A surprise that Sara shared. "Steph," Dena chuckled, "the man is hung like a horse." Her eyes closed in rapturous memory. "Quite a mouthful." Jen clapped her hands in delight, clearly not at all upset to share the bounty of this love god. "Hasn't he called on either of you two yet.?" "What do you mean?" Sara asked, and knew she had a frown on her face. "Well, I told you he was a free agent. I gave him your addresses." Dena's eyes widened, "So I was lucky enough to be his first call." Steph's face showed her shock, "You've given him my address? What if he called when Jack was in?" Dena held up a hand, "I'm sure he'll be discrete," she looked at Jen for confirmation, as she went on. "He was just a bit demanding at first. When I looked like I wasn't too sure, I thought it was going to be rape. Average height but a strong guy, muscular, and when he gets it up there--wow—he had me screaming for more." Jen nodded, "And he can keep it up, can't he?" "For ages," Dena sighed. When Sara left she was happy to think that 'the man' had all the positive qualities they were raving about in this Victor. All she was looking forward to was the next day, when he would once again surprise her. Their sessions were always a step into the unknown. Wednesday dawned sunny and bright once again. Sara was grateful for the prolonged fine spell they were having. It meant she could spend more time enjoying the garden. Thoughts of the garden, gave her a brilliant idea for when the man arrived. The garden was a location that they had never utilised. As soon as Gordon had left for work, she put on the thinnest, the most easily unbuttoned dress she could find. No bra, no panties underneath, only her skin. Downstairs she searched out some card, and a felt pen. She cut out several small pieces from the card, but on one larger piece she wrote the words, "FIND ME. I'VE LEFT SOME CLUES." Smaller cards scattered about the house advised him whether he was warmer or colder. One card which was intended for the conservatory read, 'You are facing in the right direction'. That, she was sure, would get him into the garden. Having placed the large card outside the front door, she quickly and strategically placed the other cards. Soon, she heard the sound of his approaching car. She grabbed a small low stool on her way out to the garden. The garden was large with various clumps of trees, and a summer house, all of which could be suspect areas for a hidden person. Sara knew exactly where she was going to hide. Right against the house was a large, rather overgrown, hydrangea beautiful at this time of year with its red blooms. Sitting on the low stool behind the bush, Sara was sure the cover would be deceptive enough. Then the front door slammed, and his voice, with a laugh in it, boomed out, "I'll find you, madam, and when I do you know what I'll expect." Sara chuckled, and glanced at her watch. It showed exactly five minutes past ten. He had fifteen minutes in which to find her, if he didn't, she could demand whatever sexual favour she wanted. Today, her skin tingled and she knew exactly what her first request would be. It was a bit annoying not being able to see his frantic searching around the house, but she knew her clues would soon bring him out into the garden. Then she looked up at the sky and saw a large black encroaching cloud. Please, no rain before he finds me. It took eleven minutes for the man to appear on the patio. Now Sara could see him clearly, and her skin tingled all the more when she saw he had removed his shirt. He looked so sexy in just his jeans. Sara And 'The Man' Ch. 02 The man's eyes scanned the garden, passing over Sara's hiding place, before he charged towards the summer house. Just as she thought he would. She glanced at her watch, and saw it was ten-eighteen. He only had two minutes, and hadn't checked anywhere else. He stormed away from the summer house, went to the nearest copse of trees, and disappeared into the shadows. Overhead the sky had darkened, and a black finger of cloud moved over the sun, just as he reappeared. The man looked up at the sky, and move towards a small thicket, but at that moment Sara, seeing that her watch showed ten twenty one, called, "You're out of time." She didn't move but peered out to see him looking around, a half smile on his face. Not moving she yelled, "Come on then, hawk eye." This time he identified the direction, and came running across the grass towards her. As he approached she coolly unbuttoned the front of her dress, and as he pulled the branches aside to find her, she stood up. "Ah," he said, eagerly eyeing her body, "a bush behind the bush." She stepped out, and into his arms, which held her tightly as they kissed, tongues sliding over and around each other. The tingling on her skin increased as she broke the kiss, and told him, "You owe me." He laughed, "I'm trembling with fear." Then he jumped as the first drop of rain hit him, and Sara was also made aware of the reurn of inclement weather. Without further comment he swept her up into his arms, and carried her into the conservatory where he set her down and slipped her dress off her shoulders. His hands gently roamed from her waist up to her breasts, but she stepped away quickly. "No hands," she told him. The man looked puzzled, as once again his eyes took in every inch of her body, at least those within his focus. That encouraged Sara to voice her first demand, "What your eyes are doing, moving over every inch of my skin they can see, that's what I want your tongue, and tongue only to do." He looked at her, amusement showing on his lips, as he sighed, "Oh, well, if I must, I must Within minutes they were upstairs in the first bedroom, and Sara was happily spread out on her back on the bed, while the man removed his jeans, and moved to lean over Sara Sara glanced at his only semi-erect penis, and commented, "Just as well I didn't choose a task for that floppy thing." He laughed, and told her, "Don't worry. He'll be ready when called upon. As you well know." His tongue did all the worked she'd hoped for it. The tingling she had been aware of all morning was enhanced wherever he touched, not surprisingly her breasts and pubic area were most alive. There was one particular instance, when, lying face down, his tongue, having trailed down her spine, probed its way all along the crease of her buttocks, and merely tickled into her anus. That moment so brief, had her wondering how that might have developed. There was an unspecified excitement about it. As the man sat back from her, Sara turned over and looked at him. "That was quite pleasing," she said, knowing that, perhaps, it was not quite as stimulating as when he'd carried out the same service with his erect penis. Anyway, now she laughed, as she nodded her head at his lower region. "And I see that you quite enjoyed it". His penis jutted out in its familiar rigid state. "Any touch on you is enjoyable. What are your orders now?" Sara had been working on this one while his tongue was doing its work. "What I want now, is to have that rod of yours inside me in every major room in the house." "What? That's not--" "Whoa," she laughed, "obviously you can't climax every time. It's just a whim so that in every room I can say I have been taken." "Is it to be all vaginal?" She gave him one of her lascivious smiles, leaned forward, lowered her head, and took his erect penis into her mouth, sucking it right back so that the head touched at the back of her throat." "I'm going to like this game," he hissed, as her tongue fluttered over his rod. After a short while she released him and said, "There, that's this room done." There were five other bedrooms, but Sara insisted they left the main bedroom until last. So in the other four bedrooms he drove his penis deeply into her until her vaginal walls started their eager pulling and then he withdrew. Sometimes it was with her legs parted as she lay on her back. Once she straddled him and skewered herself keenly. In another he took her doggy style, but in every case they avoided climax. Downstairs he took her against the wall in the dining room, lifting her off her feet. In the kitchen it was on the table, reminding each other of the first time. In the main sitting room he sprawled in a large armchair, and she went down on him once again, ignoring the taste of her own juices, but thinking what an abandoned woman she could be. In the conservatory he sat on a chair and she straddled him once more. By the time they entered the lounge Sara knew that they were both highly charged, and given the wicked idea she had for the final bedroom she suggested that it would do no harm for them to really go for it. So they went for it. The man between her widely spread legs on the long sofa near the television screen. He had given her clitoris a couple of strokes which it didn't really need. So she was more than ready to have her vaginal muscles heave at his rock hard penis. She was so near, and could tell by his breathing that so was he. They got their hips heaving in a mutual rhythm, each move faster and deeper than the one before. Sara wanted to be ploughed so deeply and forced her buttocks up off the sofa to meet and encourage his driving force. Ultimately, together they hit the high that they were both longing for. They lay for a while, calming down, and at last the man growled, "I didn't realise what a strain stopping and starting could be." "And we still have the main bedroom to claim," she said, and then turning so that she was looking down at him, before she said provocatively, "And one more orifice that you haven't been in." For only a moment, the man's face showed his lack of understanding, but then it dawned on him, and he looked at her dubiously, "You really want to take it there." Sara nodded, "I'm so curious what it must be like. When your fingers or tongue have touched back there I've had a little thrill. Can we try it?" "If it's really what you want. I don't want to hurt you. But I'll need a little while to recover." Upstairs they took a loving long shower together, during which as the man soaped her with his hands he gave her buttocks extra attention, and briefly sent one finger testing her anus. Sara shivered, sure there must be pleasure there.. After she had soaped him well, giving sufficient attention to his penis to ensure it was once more on the rise. Then, they thoroughly dried each other and retired to the main bedroom to complete this major operation. ***** Chapter 3 reveals how Sara takes to this new experience, and how other factors bring this aspect of her life to an exciting conclusion. Sara And 'The Man' Ch. 03 Reading this will be a little confusing if you have not read the previous two sections of 'Sara and the man'. ***** As the man's flaccid penis slipped out of her anus, Sara Bastin, lying face down with her buttocks raised, was first of all very aware of a kind of emptiness down there. The man put his mouth close to her ear and whispered, "Are you all right?" "I think so," she said, telling herself that it was a stupid answer. The man had been providing her with magical sexual favours for nearly two months, because her husband Gordon Bastin, who she loved very much, had never been able to consummate their marriage. But yesterday the idea of having the man's lovely hard penis enter her anally, was totally her own. In so many of the differing positions and games they had played over these weeks, Sara had noticed that any touch on her anus had suggested pleasure. So, on the previous day, as a conclusion to a series of activities which were of her choosing, that is what she had chosen. The man had not been too sure. He had said he was nervous about hurting her. But Sara had a tube of lubricating cream from when she was first married, and which, because of the sexual difficulties in her marriage, had never been needed. They'd had a shower together and the man's penis looked fully recharged after an earlier session. As they lay down on the bed he had suggested that they just build up gradually, so they kissed, their tongues fun fighting like old friends. The man's hands wandered all over her body, setting her breasts tingling, stroking along her thighs, and up into her crevice where he had originally suggested they might find sufficient lubrication for the intended contact. Sara had tenderly stroked his steel hard penis, wondering if such dimensions could enter her tight anus. At last she told him that she didn't want too much vaginal stimulation, as she was curious to know how anal entry would affect her. The man asked her to turn onto her stomach, and he placed two cushions there so her buttocks were well raised. He started by stroking right along her crevice and onto her anus. His fingers there made Sara's excitement grow. While he stroked her, they kissed with her head turned to one side, but knew that would have to stop once he entered her. Sara had reached back to continue her manipulation of his sturdy member, not wanting to let it lose any of its power. At last he whispered, "I'm getting the cream. You okay?" "I feel lovely," Sara said, and she did. She was both stimulated and hot with anticipation. The first touch of the man's creamed finger was just around the tiny anal opening, and it had Sara squirming. But when his finger moved deeper, in spite of the cream she felt a dull ache. That brought a doubt into her mind, but as the finger moved deeper all doubt was gone. As she had hoped it was really quite pleasant. The man removed his finger temporarily to apply more cream, and his entry this time was much easier, much more relaxed. But would his big weapon have a similar effect? At last he brought his head close to hers and whispered, "I've smeared myself and I'm going to come into you now. Please yell if you hurt." Sara drew a deep breath, feeling him positioning himself between her thighs. Then he was placing that bulbous head at her anal entrance. "Do it!" she pleaded, just wanting to know how it would be. As his penis broke past her tight opening, Sara feared there was going to be pain. She bit her lip, as the pressure that stretched her mounted. The man eased further into her, and it was better. Up and into her moved his erection, gentle but steady, until his belly was pressed against her buttocks. Sara had a feeling of intense pleasure at having taken it into her, and all the sensations provided by her nerve endings were lifting her. The man began drawing back and thrusting, drawing back and thrusting. It was nothing like the vaginal sensations, but Sara's excitement was still intense. She flexed her sphincter muscles, and was delighted to hear the man gasp, "God, madam, that is tremendous. Could you do that again?" Happy to oblige, as he began bucking up into her, she flexed her muscles again feeling her whole rectum totally filled, completely alive with the tingle in hitherto unknown nerves. Her sphincter muscles were so much easier to flex, but that was when she found that she had rather overdone it for, suddenly, the man's hands that had been holding her hips clenched, and he gasped, "Oh, God—I can't—" Next moment his penis was jerking up higher and ever higher, and Sara, recognised the way he climaxed, as she actually felt his seed running up into her. She had deprived him of his previous ability to keep it up. Now what kind of power was that? She hadn't climaxed herself, but the sensation of his movement, of his orgasm had been well worth it. There was so much satisfaction in having that effect on him. When he apologised, she had to tell him not to be so silly, it really had been a successful exercise, and she was sure the next time they did it would be better again. The following morning, when she was moving about she was aware of a slight discomfort down there, but she pulled on her silky robe over her naked body, and went ahead with her normal morning procedure of breakfasting and getting Gordon out to work. When he had left, she decided that she felt so lethargic she wouldn't rush to get dressed. She collected a cook book and in the kitchen decided what Gordon's evening meal would be. Having time on her hands she prepared it as far as she could. That done she was crossing the hall when there was a knock at the door. Sara glanced at her watch, and saw that it was rather later than the time the man usually came. Thursday wasn't one of his days, anyway. Sara grinned, getting more eager was he? She would have to tell him he was a naughty man, and there was no chance of getting entry back there today. She hurried to the door, and flung it open. It wasn't the man. A shorter, blonde haired man stood there, a strange grin on his face, Even before he spoke, Sara, with some despair knew who he was. "I'm Victor," he told her, his eyes ogling at the careless opening in her robe. "Jen tells me that you might want some wild company." Sara's fists clenched. Damn you, Jen. This was the man her friend Jen had been filling her time with when her husband was away. Sara had been horrified when Jen had told them that she'd given him the addresses, of each of her friends, because he was worth trying, Another friend had actually tried him, and amazingly, had approved Jen's recommendation. He took a step forward which prevented her shutting the door, and his eyes continued to look her up and down, as Sara pulled her robe tighter. "I think you should leave," Sara said firmly. Not firmly enough obviously, as he reached out a hand, and tried to part her robe. She moved to push him away, and was shocked when he pushed her, hard enough to set her staggering across the hall. "They didn't tell me what a luscious piece of stuff I'd find here," he almost cackled. "Just get out," Sara tried again, remembering what her friend had said about it almost being like rape at first. But he kept moving towards her, as she backed towards the stairs, looking for a weapon she might use. "You haven't seen what I've got for you." No, she hadn't but his thin cotton pants did not disguise the large bulge that was already there. "Come on," he said, reaching out for her hand. "Just feel it, and you'll not be able to say no." Sara was getting angry now, as she knocked his hand away she said, "I've heard all about the puny little thing you've got." She saw the anger flare in his eyes, before he lunged and pushed her backwards to trip on the bottom step and fall back, her robe spreading open up to her waist. He was instantly standing over her, "Now I'm going to see everything you've got." His hand reached for the edge of her robe. "Get your bloody hands off my wife!" Victor staggered back as the booming voice echoed around the hall. Gordon, in his work suit and blue shirt, his face more angry than Sara had ever seen it, strode towards them, his fists raised. Her relief at his unexpected arrival was beyond belief. The slight Victor, who was supposed to be muscular, scuttled around Gordon's tall frame, and away out of the front door, like the startled rat he was. Gordon hurried to the front door, looked out, then slammed the door shut, and came back to where Sara was still sitting on the stairs. She had pulled her robe back into place, and she was thinking that she had never seen her husband look so boldly handsome. "Away up the drive. Not worth going after, that bastard. Are you all right, my dear?" He sat on the step beside her. "Now that you're here, I am," she said, as she grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "How are you home?" "I forgot some papers. Pure chance." "Lucky chance, " she said, putting her head on his shoulder. "Do you have to go back?" "Not if you don't want me to." "I don't." He stood up and shrugging out of his jacket. He hung it carelessly on the end of the banister. "Then I'll go and make us a cup of coffee." Sara began to rise, "No, I'll do it." Gordon placed a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder, "No, you won't. Just relax." As he walked towards the kitchen, he began rolling up his shirt sleeves, and she called after him, "Should I go and put some clothes on?" He stopped and looked back at her. She knew her robe had parted to show a generous expanse of bosom. His eyes viewed her for only a second before he said, "No, you look fine as you are." After a while, she stood and followed him into the kitchen, where he was just topping up two mugs. His shirt sleeves were rolled up tight, and he had removed his tie. Sara couldn't stop thinking of how much she adored him. They sat at the kitchen table, sipping coffee, and he spoke of mundane things like, "I'm sure that firm works better when I'm not there." Sara told him how that Victor person came to be there. Gordon's eye widened, "Jen gave him your addresses? That was a stupid thing to do." They sat quietly sipping their coffees for a while, before Sara admitted, "I'm so glad you stayed with me, Gordon." He smiled at her, and asked, "Would it please you more if I asked you to go to bed with me right now?" Without hesitation she replied, "Oh, definitely," But deep inside her that old fear arose. All the attempts they had made, as man and wife, over two years, and all the failures. She just knew she couldn't stand seeing him lose his present relaxed demeanour. "Then what are we waiting for?" he asked brightly. Together, hand in hand, like young lovers, they mounted the staircase. Standing by the bed he slipped her robe off her shoulders, and his hands traced over her breasts, along her waist and onto her hips. He drew her close to kiss her, and their tongues met in a gentle exploratory manner, that set the inside of Sara's cheeks tingling. With him standing close, she could feel his hardness against her bare belly. They'd often been in that situation, but it was the moment of entry that worried her. Gordon eased her onto the bed and she shuffled into the centre. He quickly dropped his pants and boxers, and wriggled alongside her. Sara could not help noticing that his erection looked more positive than it did during all the failures. As she reached cautiously for it, she had to admit there was a stiffness about it, and she stroked it carefully as they kissed again. His hands played over her breasts, and his fingers pinched at the nipples. Then he broke the kiss to move his mouth onto her breasts, where he licked and sucked at her nipples. In spite of her concerns Sara felt her insides begin their familiar trembling. Gordon's hand moved down to flutter among her pubic hair, before one finger curled into the joint of her thighs, which immediately parted, allowing his whole hand to run along the quickly moistening crevice. Sara stroked his back with one hand, and with the other she held on to his erection, which remained firm. One of his fingers was caressing her clitoris, while the other circled her vaginal entrance. God, she was so ready. She just couldn't believe it. As his fingers did their work down there, his lips and tongue continued to favour her breast and nipples. With some skill, he was bringing her to that moment, when she was going to need his erect rod riding up inside her. But now, it was a dreaded moment, because if he didn't make it--Sara just could not contemplate how it would effect him. His fingers moved from her clitoris so that his hand could move teasing up and down her inner thigh. "Ah, that is such a wonderful smoothness," he said, and she could tell he too was sounding breathless. Just as suddenly his fingers were back to probing her intimate area. One finger moved into her vagina, performing a tantalising circling motion, while another flickered around and over her clitoris. Sara's first warning, apart from the twitching of her hips and the uncontrollable swaying of her head from side to side, was the flexing of her own vaginal muscles madly seeking fulfillment. Nervous as she was she had to tell him, "Oh, Gor—Gordon—I—" Without any hesitation, Gordon rolled between her thighs, and Sara lost her hold on his erection, as he moved to place it inside her. Sara knew that she could destroy her own climax by worrying about her fear of the feel of wet splashes on her belly, or hearing his disappointed groan as his penis flopped. Such sensations were so familiar in their attempts as man and wife. She was so distracted by these worries that she suddenly became aware that Gordon was over her and inside her. His solid penis was actually filling her, massive, yet travelling so smoothly, that she groaned with the wild ecstasy of the exquisite feelings inside her. The sheer relief of knowing these feelings were being produced by a very hard, very mobile penis, Gordon's penis. He was moving, solid inside her. They were man and wife. Gordon wasn't acting, and such was her shock, surprise, and delight that she instantly climaxed, with her vagina trying to clamp on Gordon's probing iron hard penis. As though she was some distance from the event she realised that he was still thrusting inside her, but his movements were becoming swifter and ever deeper, until he grunted a loud exhalation of breath and she sensed him pulsing again and again inside her. He had done it. At last she was his, and he belonged to her. She suddenly realised she was sobbing with the sheer joy of it. Gordon, a disturbed look on his face, looked up into her face. "Sara, why are you crying? Did I hurt you?" "No, no," Sara tried to reassure him, but she was aware that there were tears on her cheeks. "You've just made me so happy. We made it together." He kissed the tears from her cheeks, and eyes. His mouth found hers and they shared a long, almost chaste kiss. From tears to utter happiness, Sara burst out laughing. Gordon leaned over her again, "Oh my God, you're not going mad are you?" "No, no I'm not," she giggled. "I was just thinking, pest controller, what made you think of that?" He laughed with her, clearly just as relieved as she was, "So I could tell you I liked filling cracks.". "You'll have to thank that therapist," she told him. "Yes, when he suggested a last resort tactic, which he called the thrill of the illicit, I wasn't too sure. He told me that he'd had one success with a client acting out the role-play of being a stranger seducing another man's wife." "All you told me was that I had to accept you as a stranger, and eventually I had to give in to you." Gordon kissed her. "It didn't take you long, but the whole charade worked. That's the blessing," he said with a smile. "Hell, Gordon, that first time in the kitchen, I was desperate for it, yet, so nervous, that you might not sustain it, that it was easy to act like a wife ready to surrender herself." "You were very convincing," he told her. "The hard part was not being able to discuss good sessions with you, as Gordon. " Gordon sat up beside her, "And now we have one more river to cross." Sara frowned, "What would that be?" His face was more serious as he told her, "Finding out if it all works out at the times we'd usually try to do it, in the evenings." "You worried about that?" "Not as much as I might have been. But let's spend the day out, come back late, eat, and take it from there." "I have a chicken supreme all set for preparation," Sara told him. "Right," Gordon said determinedly, "we'll shower, dress and drive out into the country. Weather looks set fair." Within an hour they were parking in a quiet village, well away from any city. Hand in hand they strolled along the banks of the river, where Gordon pointed out and named a range of birds that they saw. He had always been keen at that. They stopped at a small pub and sat outside in the sun, talking and laughing about many of the incidents they'd shared over recent weeks. "Our wicked past," Sara laughed. When they reached home, it was nearly seven o'clock. Sara told him the food would only take half an hour, so Gordon went to have a shower. Sara was feeling so good about things, but that old worry still persisted and she knew that tonight it had to be allayed once and for all. He came back in his dressing gown, and gave Sara a hand so she could take a shower before they ate. She decided that, since Gordon was in his dressing gown, she would only wear a silken robe. It was nearly eight as they sat, eating their meal and sipping white wine. Gordon declared how good the meal had been, and moving around the table, he gave Sara an appreciative hug, slipping his hand inside her robe to fondle her breast. Then he declared, "Bedtime, I think." Sara looked into his eyes, and saw only sexual hunger. She had already decided how she would start any proceedings. It would be a major step in proving Gordon was going to be all right. In the bedroom, they stood by the side of the bed, and divested each other of their covering gowns. They stood there, gazing at each other. "I haven't told you how wonderful it is to be able to look at you as my actual wife". Gordon whispered. Sara, having been delighted to see that Gordon already had a substantial erection, did not reply, but immediately dropped to her knees, and took his hardness deep into her mouth. As she moved her tongue around it and heard Gordon's moan of pleasure, she knew she had achieved a first step. Gordon reached down, and put his hands under her shoulders to lift her. "Lovely, my dear," he said."So far, so good." Gently he lay her on the bed, parted her thighs, and buried his face in her nether moistness. For Sara, already well prepared, it was an extra touch of heaven as his tongue, caressed her clitoris, and his fingers probed her vaginal entry. Sara's hips began to heave, her mind was trying to reject worrying thoughts, but, just as before, Gordon rose up above her, and before she could even think too deeply his perfect rod was inside her. Immediately, Sara's vaginal muscles were working on him like so many fingers, and her hips were eager to match his thrusts. Harder and harder they pounded together, marking this as the special occasion that they had been aiming for. With mutual cried they obtained their first mutual orgasm, and for Sara it was a joy to feel Gordon's penis pulsing and pulsing his seed deep into her, and for the first time she was thinking that they would start a family. As they recovered, Sara put that notion to him, and was delighted at his enthusiastic reaction. "Have you stayed on the pill all this time?" he asked. Sara And 'The Man' Ch. 03 "Even through the lean years," she laughed. "Then stop," he ordered, " I want a large family." They hugged, and laughed at the joy of the prospect. When Gordon hardened they made love once more, slowly, deliberately delivering total love in every touch, every squeeze, every caress, until they once again shared a beautiful climax. As they lay, Sara looked at Gordon, who had his eyes closed although his hand was moving gently over her breasts. "What are you thinking?" she asked him. Gordon opened his eyes and looked into hers, "I'm regretting those many months when we could not catch moments like these." "But now, think about all the years we have ahead of us. You are no long 'the man', Gordon Bastin. You are MY MAN."