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Uncharted Territory

By: bb_peaks



I watched the second hand on the clock make its way around and around. I looked at how much work I had left and started getting butterflies in my stomach.

Could I hurry and get everything finished with enough time to make that drive I'd wanted to make for weeks? As 2 o'clock came and went it didn't look as if I would be able to make the rendezvous at the time I wanted. I finally finished it all and walked out with a smile on my face, ready to drive to meet him.

I am both excited and terrified. With a brief moment of indecision, I change direction and drive a different route. My mind races with all sorts of possibilities.

"We can go hiking," he told me. I love hiking and knowing what would happen during the hike made my pussy moist and ready. With about 10 minutes left before I arrived, I sent a brief text letting him know I'd be there soon. 

He pulls into the parking lot. I smile. He parks and climbs into the van with me. 

"Where to?" I ask. He begins guiding me through many turns. While driving we make small talk. I mostly listen because I'm too nervous to really speak.

We arrive and I grab a couple bottles of water and we head into woods. Seeing the sunlight filter through the trees and just enjoying the peace and quiet helped me to relax as we climbed over downed trees and followed the path until we reached the sandy shore of the river.

"You know I'm going to have to go pee," I told him hoping to break the tension I felt. 

I left him to scope out the beach while I walked through a few trees and found me a spot. When I came back to him he had his shirt and hat off and stood waiting for me. I was ready to just fuck him but felt as unsure as a virgin.

We stepped toward each other and began kissing—lightly at first and then more urgent.

"I forgot how tall you are," I said to him. He squatted down to be closer to me. 

I laughed. "I didn't mean it was bad," I said as I went to kiss him again. We stopped kissing and sat down on the sand. I took my shirt off sat, waiting to see what would happen next. He took his undershirt off, putting it with his other things. We both took our shoes off and set them aside.

He stood and made quick work of his belt and pants. He sat back down in the sand in his white boxers and we began kissing again. His lips touching mine felt so good. I don't know which of us reached first but his hand found my breast and mine found his waiting cock. We kissed and fondled and then I got the nervous giggles.

"I really don't know what to do next," I told him. He didn't say a word, instead reaching for the clasp on my red bra. After I tossed it into the pile I lay down and unzipped my jeans and put them with the rest of my clothes. 

With my bare ass now pressed into the sand, we both sat naked staring out at the water. Again with the giggles, I just laughed and smiled. At some point we turned toward each other and our lips met. My hand grabbed his cock and stroked him. He felt so firm and good in my hand. His fingers teased my nipples, making me want him more. 

With him on his knees and me facing him, I put my lips around his dick and lightly sucked on him. I took his dick into my mouth slowly before I sucked him hard and fast. My hand found its way to his balls and rubbed him.

As I did, I shuddered a bit, cumming at the same time. "I bet you don't know many women who can cum while giving a blow job, now do you?" I asked.

"I know one," he said smiling at me. I tried to dust what sand off me I could as he slipped on a condom.

We both stood and I leaned forward, giving him a full view of my ass and pussy. He stepped toward me and rubbed his dick along my wet and waiting pussy, making me cum again. It felt so good. I was ready for him to stick it in.

He rubbed me over and over making me cum. When he finally entered me I thought I would explode. I began to moan and move in time with him. He fucked me hard and fast and the slow and easy. I grabbed hands full of sand squishing it and squeezing it. His hard cock felt so good inside me. I could feel him tense up as he came. We stayed joined for a little while before I rose up. I faced him and we kissed, our naked bodies rubbing against each other.

"God I want you again," I said. I wanted him to fuck me over and over and over but knew we had to get back. We dusted ourselves off, put our clothes back on and headed back through the trail. 

After he opened the door for me, I climbed into the van. During the drive back to his car all I could think of was having his lips on mine, his hands all over my body. We arrived at his car, both of us getting out of the van. 

With a brief kiss and goodbye, he was gone. 

"Until next time," I thought to myself driving away with a smile on my face.

Uncharted Territory Pt. 01



She looked up from her papers and glanced at him. He caught her gaze, and suddenly, it was like seeing her for the first time. She was seated about three-quarters of the way down the long conference table to his right. His chair was on the end. There was something in those sweet, sexy eyes that captivated him, and he wondered why he had not noticed it before.

Jenna and Ron were officers of a statewide non-profit organization and had known each other for a year or so. They lived in different parts of the state, so they only saw each other at the organization's quarterly board meetings. Their interaction had never been more than casual, so he knew little about her, except that he found her extremely attractive. Though she dressed conservatively, in clothes that were less than revealing, he had observed her enough to believe that beneath her modest garb was a body that could launch a serious erection on the most timid of men.

If her gaze was not enough, the brief smile she flashed him had him smitten in seconds.

"Ron, can you handle that tonight?"

Despite it all, the sound of his name did manage to arrest his attention, but only because he thought it came from Jenna.

"Ron, you still with us?"

With the harsh realization that it had come from the chairwoman, Ron forced his attention to Carol at the head of the table. "Yes?" He had no idea what she had just asked him to do.

"I asked if you could handle that tonight?"

Ron stole a glance at the papers in front of him in a desperate effort to recall the topic of discussion. No such luck. He had no choice but to answer: "Yes, I think so." Regardless of the task, there was virtually nothing in this organization he couldn't do. "But I might need some help." Maybe she would assign Jenna.

Even though his attention was aimed at Carol, Ron's head was still pointed toward Jenna. The chairwoman picked up on that. "More than you and Jenna?"

So that's why she had glanced at him. He pretended to reconsider. He and Jenna working on a project together—what more could he want? Certainly no one else. "Okay, we'll take a stab at it."

* * *

"Your room or mine?"

Still suffering from smite, Ron was taken aback by the question from Jenna after the meeting ended. Could she be suggesting what he thought, hoped?

However, he took too long to answer so she asked, "Are you okay? You seem distracted."

Ron looked into her deep, blue, mesmerizing eyes. If only she knew. "Well, you know, sometimes these meetings are not the most exciting . . . it's easy for your attention to wander. I guess I am just distracted."

"I'm sorry if I volunteered you without first consulting you," Jenna explained. "You're the only one with a laptop. If you'd rather me not use it . . ."

It was beginning to come back. She needed to do a proposal for . . . for . . . for something to present to the board tomorrow during the second half of the meeting. "No, not at all. I look forward to it"

She beamed, her smile lighting up the hallway.

"Which room would you prefer?" Ron asked, disguising his disappointment over her reason for the room question.

"Well, I'm rooming with Beatrice. I don't know what her plans are for the evening . . . you're alone, aren't you?

Ron nodded. The organization required board members to room together to save money. If a member wanted to room alone, as Ron usually opted to do, he or she paid for half the expense.

"Then your room would probably be more convenient."

How right you are, Ron thought devilishly. "My room it is. After dinner? Or do you have plans?"

"I'm yours for the evening," Jenna purred with the same sweet, sexy eyes and smile that got him into this in the first place.

"Do you realize the implication of that offer?" he asked, toying with her.

"Do you realize the offer that was implied?" she shot back with a smirk as she walked off.

* * *

The problem was, Ron did not have a clue what offer was implied. And that made him very nervous.

Ron loved women: loved to look at them, loved to talk with them, loved everything about them. He generally preferred the company of a woman to a man. In fact, he had more female friends then male, a point that his soon-to-be ex-wife hated. Ironically, his impending divorce had nothing to do with that feature of his character. He had never cheated on his wife. And therein was the root of the problem and the cause of his nervousness.

By most accounts—that he was aware of—most women found him an attractive, likeable man. He loved sex as much as the next guy, but good at it—he knew he was not. He had only had sex with one woman before marrying Dana, an encounter he still remembered fondly to this day.

But Dana had never been—and still was not—very fond of sex. He was lucky to have it with her once a month. And that act required very little talent: stick it in and try to hold off cumming until she did, which frequently took some time, if it occurred at all. She didn't much like foreplay (not that it helped anyway), loathed oral sex, and although she would occasionally allow it him to perform it on her, her mouth had never come anywhere near his cock.

As a result, his friends wondered why he had stayed with her as long as he had, and what was even more of a mystery was why the sexual issue was not the cause of their break-up. However, sex aside, Dana was a good woman, and in most other aspects, a good wife. Ron had simply grown apart from her. They had no friends, nor was she particularly interested in making any, content was she to consider her mother and sister as the only real friends she needed. Ron, on the other hand, wanted to meet people, particularly women, and have other interests beside wife and family. That was what led him to this non-profit organization. He had a talent for technology that they needed, and their need enabled him to use that talent in areas beyond the scope of his regular job. So, the further into the organization he got, the more distant his relationship with Dana became, to the point where he realized he had no future with her.

What he had not realized—a realization that was abruptly surfacing—was that he was not equipped (emotionally, not physically) to be on the market again.

It also occurred to Ron that he was getting ahead of himself. Despite their little repartee, there was no real guarantee that anything sexual would occur. And he belatedly reminded himself that Jenna was also married—to a much older man, if memory served. On the other hand, maybe the old guy couldn't satisfy her . . . 

Ron shook his head to clear it. He had to stop tormenting himself. He needed a drink, so he headed in the direction of the hotel's bar.

* * *

Even the alcohol, untrue to its usual good work, did nothing to calm the anxiety Ron was feeling as the appointed hour arrived. The knock on his hotel room door only served to stimulate that anxiousness, and he forced himself to take a deep breath as he reached for the handle.

But neither alcohol nor the deep breath could have prepared him for the vision that greeted him. This was certainly a Jenna he had never seen before and only the word goddess came to mind. Elegant, yet simple; enticing, yet not trashy. She had undoubtedly touched up her make-up, though not so much as to make her seem on the prowl. She had changed into clothes obviously meant to tempt, though not to appear tawdry: an off-white button down shirt unbuttoned to mid breast, a mid-thigh length denim skirt and flat espadrille shoes that matched the color of her shirt. Breathtaking.

Ron knew in an instant he was in deep trouble.

"Should I come in or just continue to stand here?"

He stepped aside, not wanting to utter something unintelligible. She walked over to the table where he had already set up his computer. Watching her from the rear was almost as delightful as viewing her from the front. What a beautifully round ass!

"Can I get you anything?" he finally had the presence of mind to ask.

Jenna reached into her tote bag and pulled out a Diet Coke and some papers. "I came prepared," she noted, holding up the drink.

"I was going to offer a glass of wine."

"Oh," she said with raised eyebrows.  "What kind?"

"I have a nice Russian River Valley—"

"I meant, red or white?"

"Which would you prefer?"

"White."

Reaching into his ice chest, Ron pulled out a bottle of her desired color. He had already uncorked it in anticipation. He didn't have any stemware, but fortunately, the hotel was classy enough to have glass glasses in the bathroom. He poured three fingers for her, then a glass of red for himself and carried the two over to the table where Jenna had already taken the chair behind the computer. She hadn't pulled the chair in yet so he was treated to an alluring view of her crossed legs, little of which were covered by the ridden-up denim skirt.

Handing Jenna her glass, he observed, "You look very nice."

Glancing down at herself as though she didn't remember what she was wearing though in all likelihood she had carefully chosen the outfit, Jenna casually explained, "Oh, I just wanted to be comfortable. Hope you don't mind."

While making me uncomfortable, Ron thought. "Not at all. So, do you really need me to do anything, or is it just the computer you want?"

"Of course, I need you to do something. But that will come later. I'm just going to type out some ideas first, then we can refine them after."

This woman sure had a way with words. The trouble was, were they just double-entendres or would something really come later, no pun intended. Or was she merely toying with him? Had she caught him ogling over her too many times and this was payback, or was that which would come later simply refining her ideas? He waited with growing anticipation to find out.

The fear was, what would he do if she did intend more?

* * *

Being careful what he wished for, Ron would have liked to know Jenna better at this point. Specifically, to have a sense as to what her motive was. Was she cruelly having a little fun at his expense; a teasing bitch? Or was it personal: did she need the esteem that making him want her provided? Or could it be genuine: she was truly attracted to him and displayed it through dress and demeanor? Or was it simply she really was just comfortable in the outfit, she was here only for his input and to use his computer, and she just was not careful in her choice of words?

He needed to just allow the evening to run it's course. However, that was not as easy to do as it was to think. Particularly, as he sat next to Jenna on her left, his chair turned to observe both her and the laptop. Interestingly, as an aside, she was an extremely fast typist. But it was hard to pay any attention to that with her perfectly tanned and shaped legs still within his scope of vision, not to mention the sculpted cleavage that tormented him from the unbuttoned portion of her shirt and hinted of an unbelievable pair of tits. Imagining what was beneath the rest of her clothing produced motion beneath is belt.

Ron abruptly noticed the silence; no rapid clickity-click of the keyboard. He looked up quickly, embarrassed that he had probably been caught.

Jenna was grinning. "Did we take another little trip?"

"It would appear so, but I'll never reveal where."

"We have ways," she remarked slyly.

Having no retort, Ron just smiled and nodded.

"Okay, I'm done. Wanna read it and tell me what you think?"

"Love to." And so he did. Then, though it was difficult because he had to look at her, they discussed it. This turned out to be beneficial because he actually got into the subject matter and was able to push all the other tortuous notions aside.  

And so it went for an undeterminable amount of time: trading ideas, agreeing on concepts, refining her notes, converting it into an attractive slide show with much speed and professionalism, which she had not intended but which he was able to accomplish, to her surprise and awe.

In fact, so swept up had be become in what he was doing on the computer, it took him a while to realize that he had basically tuned out Jenna—or had she merely stopped talking to allow him to work? Regardless which it was, when the realization occurred to him he stopped and glanced at her, but actually did a double take.

Jenna was staring at Ron. He started to glance down as though his fly was open or something, but slowly became aware that she was not actually staring, she was . . . gazing? Not quite. There was a look in her eyes he wasn't certain he could describe. Almost as though . . . no, it couldn't be. No way. If he didn't know better he would have said there was a dreamy countenance . . . like she was gazing dreamily at him.

With no other course of action in mind, he continued peering into her hypnotic eyes. Within his field of vision, her hand went inside her shirt, ostensibly to scratch an itch. With great difficulty, he refrained from redirecting his attention. Still, it seemed her hand lingered longer than it should have.

And there was more stirring in his groin.

Nervously clearing his throat, Ron turned back to the computer. "Perhaps if we change this graph to a pie chart, it might have more effect."

As he was saying this, Jenna leaned in as though to have a closer look. The result of this seemingly calculated move was her thigh rubbing against his, her breast pressed against his biceps.

Her ulterior motive was becoming increasingly apparent. Only his own perceived shortcomings prevented him from going further.

Easing his chair back slowly so she wouldn't think he was uneasy with their closeness, Ron rotated his seat to face Jenna. She did likewise, and the movement caused the hem of her short skirt to ride even higher on her uncrossed legs. He could almost see the promised land. She lifted one foot and hooked her heel on the rung of her chair further enticing him. He also now noticed, not having seen when it happened, that another button on her shirt was undone. If he thought he'd seen cleavage before . . . this view made him wonder if she was actually wearing a bra.

Ron squirmed and grimaced because in his sitting position his poor cock had nowhere to grow inside his pants and he didn't want to be so blatant as to adjust himself.

To his surprise, that problem was taken care of when Jenna casually reached over and gently placed her hand on his bulge. Her eyebrows shot up in amazement at his size. "Let me take care of that for you," she said softly. And with the lightest touch, she manipulated his boner comfortably upward. Predictably, she did not remove her hand, instead lovingly running her palm along its considerable length from pulsing head to quivering balls.

For an instant, Ron thought he was dreaming. But her continued electrifying touch convinced him otherwise.

Despite considering himself unskilled, instinct took over. His computer-like mind searched its data banks for similar situations he had read about in Literotica stories. Pulling her chair to him, he cupped her beautiful face in his hands and leaned in to kiss her succulent lips.

"Finally," she uttered.

Ron halted within inches, studying her for a minute and accepted her remark not as criticism, but definitive encouragement to proceed. A second later, their lips were pressed together and Ron knew instantly, regardless how long it lasted, that this would be the most sensuous kiss of his life. Though the touch of her lips was pillowy soft, the feel and effect on him engulfed his entire body in a warmth of emotion he had never known. Their tongues danced in blissful choreography.

Ron became lost in time and space, and if it ended now, the pleasure he felt would have carried him for weeks. But Jenna's roaming hand had unclasped his pants, latched onto the tab of his zipper and was ever so slightly inching it down. Her caressing his cock delightfully continued on top of his underwear. She fumbled with the opening in his jockey shorts, giving up quickly to yank the waistband down. A breathy moan escaped her lips and his own when her hand grasped his rock hard flesh.

Jenna broke the kiss long enough to gasp, "My God, it's big!" then devoured his lips again.

Thinking he should be making further advances, the inexperienced Ron, whose Literotica memories had faded, was spellbound by Jenna's decadent kiss and stroking his cock to do anymore than hang on to her lips for dear life.

Then her thumb kneaded the head of his cock, felt the ooze of pre-cum, and she couldn't drop to her knees quick enough to inhale his rod. When she had it in far enough to reach the entrance to her throat, she came up slowly moistening every inch of his taut skin. Down she went at the same measured slow pace until she had a rhythm going. Within a few strokes, she was able to swallow him completely. He thought he might pass out from the incredible delight she was bestowing on him. No one had sucked his cock since before he married Dana. He had never forgotten that amazing experience. Jenna's skill was light years ahead of that. As pleasurable as it was, he had a moment's doubt about Jenna, who normally came across as demure and proper. Now, she was a tiger in sheep's clothing. He did recall a number of Literotica stories about women who had hidden desires that the right man was able to bring to the surface. However, he didn't fancy himself one of those men and he tried hard not to let any of these notions about her ruin the mood.

Of more concern at this point was not cumming too soon. He and Dana had sex so infrequently that when she would finally consent he had so much built up desire he had to fight to hold it in until she seemed to be ready. It was difficult, to be sure, but as she provided no stimulation, it was not impossible. Jenna was so talented, he was afraid the dam would burst any second. But as his breathing quickened and his muscles tensed, she sensed he was ready, so she calmly urged, "Come on, baby, it's okay. Let me have your delicious sperm."

And that was all it took for him to blast her tonsils. She had blown more than his cock—she had also blown his mind. Ron had never experienced anything so pleasurable. At first he couldn't even open his eyes. But his cock was still pumping away so he forced his lids open to glance down. Jenna's lips were still locked around the mushroom head of his penis and he could see her throat moving in swallowing motions. It felt as though he had unloaded gallons and he expected to see streams of cum oozing out of her mouth and down her chin. But not even a drop escaped her lips.

As he finished and started a slow deflation, Jenna let his cock slide from her mouth, but only after giving the head one final cleansing lick. She returned to her chair and swirled her tongue around the inside of her mouth. "Mmmm," she moaned. She then had a sip of wine. "That was fantastic!"

"You're telling me?"

They regarded one another momentarily, neither knowing what, if anything, to say.

"Would you like more wine?" Ron asked as a stall tactic, but also noticing she had drained her glass.

"Sure, why not."

He fixed his pants, replenished both of their glasses, adding more than the first time, and resumed his seat before her. His mind was a mixture of conflicting thoughts, but it couldn't seem to get past the overwhelming afterglow.

Jenna mistook his expression as something negative. "You must think I'm awful."

"No, not at all. Why do you say that?"

"I'm sensing you might think I was a little too forward."

"For the record, that was way beyond forward. But I have no problem with it. I guess I'm just surprised. Your public persona did not lead me to expect that."

"Are you disappointed in me?"




Uncharted Territory Pt. 01



"Absolutely not. But you would be correct in thinking I'm curious."

"What would you say if I told you I was attracted to you?" There was concern in both her voice and expression, as though it really mattered to her how he felt.

"I'm married, you know."

"It's rumored you're going through a divorce."

It was news to him that there was a rumor going around. His eyebrows naturally arched. He thought he had done a good job of keeping that a secret. He really had no idea why he was being so tightlipped about it—it just seemed like the course of action to take. Should he confirm or deny? He liked Jenna very much. Had from the moment they first met. He had fantasized about a tryst with her, but in reality, he wouldn't have an affair with a married woman. But neither could he lie to her. "Okay. It's true. But you're married also."

"So, you haven't heard the other rumor either?"

"Apparently not."

"I'm going through a divorce, as well."

Ron nodded. "And all this?" He swept his hand from her to around the room. "The double-entendres, the cute banter, the teasing, the uncharacteristic outfit, the . . . the . . ."

"Oral affection?"

"You do have a way with words. What was the purpose of all of that?" Ron wanted to know.

"The other part of the rumor about me that no one else knows is that my divorce was final yesterday. I'm finally free. I told you I'm attracted to you. I have been for a long time. But we were both married, and so, the time wasn't right. But now . . . this trip . . . I felt the time might be right. I guess I was wrong."

"What makes you think that?"

"I guess your reaction is not what I expected." Jenna stood and walked over to the bed. "I was hoping we would have moved on to here by now," she explained, sitting on the mattress and patting it.

"Do we know each other that well?" Ron asked.

"Do we need to," Jenna countered.

"There's just a lot we don't know about each other." It was somewhat a nervous stall tactic, to be sure, but at the same time there was a lot of truth to it. She was obviously very skilled in lovemaking, and for whatever reasons she was attracted to him, he didn't want to give her a false sense that he was accomplished too. And he certainly didn't want to embarrass himself with a poor performance.

She rose and walked to the table to get her stuff. "I can see I made a big mistake this evening. Please don't think any less of me."

The last thing Ron wanted was for her to leave. He reached for her arm and turned her to face him. "The fact of the matter is, I'm very attracted to you also, and have been for a long time." He took a deep breath debating whether to go further, but realized that in order for them to get to know each other better and to get her to open up, he might have to take the lead. "So, if you're not in a real hurry, I'll like to tell you some things about myself."

Jenna smiled warmly, leaned in to give him a passionate kiss. "I'd love to hear about you," she said softly. She reached for her glass of wine and returned to the bed. "May I?"

He nodded and she propped two pillows against the headboard and sat with her legs crossed and outstretched, keeping the hem of her skirt at a respectable length. Pulling his chair close to the bed, he sat facing her. Before he began speaking, he leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees.

"I'm not very good in bed," he began in a tone of defeat. "Sexually, I've only been with two women in my lifetime. The first was a girl I dated before I met Dana. She was great. The little sex we had was outstanding and it could have only gotten better had we stayed together, but she was not looking for a permanent relationship. Then along came Dana and there was a lot to like about her, including her old-fashioned notion not to have sex until she got married. Once we did marry, it turned out to be something she didn't care for much. In the beginning, she did her wifely duty, but as time went on, even that became a chore. She would make excuses that resulted in us having sex less often, but it never reached the point that she refused it at all. She cited my size—"

Jenna licked her lips in a manner that said his size was one of her favorite attributes.

"—as a cause of discomfort, but I always regarded that as an excuse. She eventually succeeded in causing me to lose interest and the sex we've had the last couple of years has been only what could be politely called utility sex for which no skill was required, so whatever skill I did have rusted away."

She drew her legs up which naturally caused her skirt to slide up her thigh, then she leaned forward, looking deeply into his eyes. "That's a sad story. And I now understand your trepidation. But the fact is, I was attracted to you before, I'm still attracted to you, and my desire to make love with you has nothing to do with my estimate of your sexual prowess. I am glad you told me these things. Perhaps if we—I—hadn't been so quick earlier and had taken the time to learn this about you we could have taken a different approach. I apologize."

"It's not necessary. I did enjoy it."

"But I don't want you to think badly of me or that I'm a slut," Jenna said sincerely, resting back against the pillows again. This time she did not adjust her skirt and he had another breathtaking view of her legs. "I realize that the image most people have of me is that of a straight-laced woman. But as women, that's a role that is forced on us by society. To behave any differently is to be labeled a slut. And you don't get very far with such a reputation.

"In my opinion, there are two kinds of women in the world: The Dana's, and I hesitate to say, the Jenna's. You see, Ron, I like sex—no, I don't just like it, I love it. I don't know what happened to me or when, but sometime after puberty, I realized that about myself. And to answer the question that such a statement has probably generated in your mind, no, I don't sleep with any guy that comes along. I never have and I hope I never will.

"But what was a young girl to do? I grew up in a small town with family values and I certainly didn't want to embarrass my parents or myself. Masturbation is only a temporary fix. So, at 18, I married my high school sweetheart."

"The rumor I did hear," Ron interrupted with confusion, "was that your are married to an older man."

With a grimace, Jenna explained, "He's my second marriage. The high school sweetheart was first. We were good teenagers, never did anything to get in trouble; in fact never did anything except heavy kissing and light petting, which turned out to be unfortunate. Because if we hadn't been such prudish, upstanding people we might have figured that dating in high school is a very different relationship from a marriage that wasn't meant to be. You see, Jack's penis was probably no bigger than your little finger, he could barely get an erection and fathering a child was not to be. I don't remember the name of the condition, but he had omitted telling me any of these things before we were married. One of the things I wanted most out of life was children.

"On the day my divorce became final, a girlfriend and I went out to a club to celebrate. I'm not much of a drinker, but I did that night, and became easy pickings. I met a man who was about 15 years older. We danced, we drank, we had a good time, we ended up at his place. Jerry was bigger than Jack, but nowhere close to you. Yet compared to what I had with Jack, sex with Jerry was great. I thought I couldn't get enough—until I pulled up pregnant a few weeks later.

"I was mortified. What would I do, what would my parents think? I was even afraid to tell Jerry. I eventually did and he was surprisingly supportive, said he wouldn't leave me to go through it alone. As much as I wanted a child, I didn't want one out of wedlock. We talked about an abortion, but Jerry wanted to get married. He knew of my upbringing and convinced me it was the proper course of action. At the time, I thought he was right. I still didn't want to have a child this way, but I came to believe my parents would have less problem with the pregnancy and marriage than an abortion.

"After the quiet wedding, Jerry's true personality began to emerge. He was a controller. Little things at first: helping me choose clothes that suited him—which is one reason I dress as I do to this day—tonight aside. We started going to church, became a real upstanding couple. But it was all phoney. I miscarried the baby. I had to pretend to be sad, but deep down I was glad. Jerry was the consoling husband, said we'd try again, but I knew I didn't want a child with him. So, I let him believe I couldn't have children.

"Things changed after that. His controlling became worse. Everything had to be his way—even sex. And that was where he had me. I still liked it, wanted it, was willing to do anything to have it. We did a lot of things I had never done before: oral, different positions, anal. He brought home male and female friends for threesomes, couples for swinging. The problem was, I found myself enjoying it. But with it came the gradual brainwashing, making me believe I needed him and couldn't live without him. And I did start thinking that. So, there we were: this nice, solid couple on the outside and sex maniacs on the inside."

Jenna paused to gauge Ron's reaction, but detecting none, she went on. "This organization was my saving grace. I became friendly with one of the women in one of the couples that we swung with who were closer to Jerry's age. We got close enough that I was able to confide in her. She had known con men and controllers like Jerry and her advice was to get out. But I was too dependent on Jerry. Then Beatrice and I became friends—"

"Beatrice?" Ron repeated with incredulity. "Does she—"

"No, no," Jenna corrected, "she's straight. We do have straight friends. You know, for appearances. But I truly like her. Anyway, I confided in her also—of course, I omitted most of the sexual parts. Her solution was to get involved in the organization. She believed I would show myself what I could do and that would give me confidence in myself, and through that I would learn that I could make it on my own. It sounded reasonable to me.

"Except that Jerry never let me do things that he couldn't control. So, Beatrice and I had to concoct a scheme to make Jerry think it was his idea. Basically, we had to con the con man."

"Obviously, you succeeded," Ron observed.

"And how," she giggled. "He actually believed that my working for the organization would help our public image. You know, fine, upstanding woman working for fine, upstanding organization." Jenna laughed. "What an asshole."

It caused Ron to chuckle as well.

"So, it turned out that Beatrice was correct, and here I am."

Throughout her entire discourse, Jenna's eyes had not focused on any one thing. Now, they met his, and he knew what the question was. But he really didn't know what to make of her story, so he said, "Watching you perform your duties on the board, I would never have guessed that you led such a servile existence. I mean, you're one of the most dynamic people on the board. I've even heard your name bandied around for president."

"Well, you know, the mind is an amazing organ. It can succumb to making you do things you never thought you would and move you to do things you never thought you could."

"How right you are."

After a pregnant pause, Jenna apprehensively asked, "So, what do you think? Am I a bad person?"

"I have no right to judge you," Ron said, still no closer to an opinion than a few minutes ago.

"But you didn't say no."

"You're looking for exoneration?"

"I just want to know what you think given what you now know," she clarified.

"Why is what I think so important?"

"We admitted we were attracted to each other; I would like there to be nothing standing in the way of that attraction taking its natural course—like you having a problem with something I've revealed."

Nodding his understanding, Ron asked, "So, who are you?"

"Excuse me?" She frowned.

"Are you the Jenna I've gotten to know this past year, or was that just a put on—to keep up appearances, as you mentioned? Or are you the Jenna to whom I was just introduced?"

It was her turn to motion her head in comprehension. After some consideration, she answered, "They're both me. You know, like an onion, many layers. Except the one that was controllable. That layer has been peeled away."

"Okay. I like the Jenna I've been knowing. And there is something intriguing about the Jenna I've just met. I'd like to get to know her too. The truth is, I've dreamed about meeting a woman as sexually open-minded as you. My fear is, I won't be able to satisfy you. That was my frightening concern when this evening began. Now, with what you've revealed, I'm absolutely terrified."

Jenna smiled in a motherly sort of way. "Well, this is the honest-to-God truth. I've made no secret of the fact that I enjoy sex very much. But I don't always get . . . well, let me give an analogy. It's liking eating. Some people get hungry and go looking for anything to eat. That's not usually me. Others simply eat when there's food available. That is me. But with you tonight, I was ravenously hungry, and I don't get like that with very many men." She eased off the bed with no regard for the hem of her skirt and stepped over to him, actually raising her skirt to reveal scant panties obviously wet in the crotch, then straddled him on the armless chair. "You're just out of practice, that's all." She slid her covered pussy over his cock causing him to groan. Again his penis was struggling to find a place to grow.

Jenna glanced down, instantly assessed the problem and quickly, as earlier, undid his belt, pants and zipper and freed his rod to rise above the band of his jockey shorts.

At that moment, the phone rang. Ron was able to reach over and grab it off of the night table. It was Beatrice looking for Jenna, so he handed the instrument over.

She accepted it without letting go of his cock. "Hello?" She listened. "Yes, we're still working." She was watching Ron's eyes, then looked down at his cock in her hand. "I've got a good handle on it." She squeezed him as she said this. "We'll be a while longer. Still a few things to lick into shape. Don't wait up." Leaning back and hanging up the phone, Jenna reported with a snicker, "Beatrice says we better get humping on this!"

And with that, Jenna devoured his lips with hers. The flavor of their previous kissing was still fresh on his taste buds and there was no hesitancy on his part to participate this time. He kissed back with relish, even being the one to initiate the tongue dance. She purred her delight.

Acting on their own, his hands slowly grasped her exposed thighs, rubbing up and down a few times before easing up either side to just under her breasts. He couldn't resist cupping each one. It was said that any more than a handful was wasted so he thanked his lucky stars that he had big hands. They felt wonderful to his touch. But he had to see them, so he slowly undid the remaining buttons on her shirt, then spread it open. He broke off the kiss to gaze in wonder at the treasure. She had on a very sheer bra that seemed to have virtually no support. But once he removed it, he saw it was unnecessary. Her tits were exactingly round and hung firmly with very little sag. His dick pulsed and he could feel a dollop of pre-cum roll down his abdomen. He massaged her breasts reveling in their lush feel and was even more thrilled when he lifted them and did not see any scars underneath nor along the under curve of her smallish areolas. These babies were real!

Ron's lips were drawn to her firm, erect nipples. He had a couple of long sucks on each, her moaning signaling favorable response. Then he flicked the very tip of each a few times with the point of his tongue causing her to inhale rapidly.

"They're very sensitive," she cooed.

"Oh, sorry."

"No, I meant that in a good way." She was panting heavily. "Keep it up." 

So, he did.

It drove Jenna wild with desire and she started sliding her pussy along the exposed skin below the head and frenulum of his cock. He could feel her pussy juice lubricating her slithering. Glancing down, he saw the most erotic vision he had yet seen: she had pulled aside one leg of her panties and her vaginal lips were wrapped around his shaft like a saddle on a horse.

That was all it took to lift her up, take a step over to the bed and gently lay her down, barely losing contact. His pants and underwear slid down his legs and he eased his shoes off to step out of the fallen garments. He grabbed the waistband of her panties, pulling them down and off to render her completely nude. He could not help but pause a moment to gawk at the incredible sight of her naked body and her shaved pussy. But she would not allow that to last, grabbing onto his shaft and pulling him down. She inched back so that she was entirely on the bed and he followed, halting with his cock poised at her dripping entrance. She grabbed his shirt to pull him down, but only far enough to unbutton and remove it so that they were both completely undressed. She then reached for his rod again to guide it into her. But he halted when he felt the heat emanating from her pussy against his glans.

Ron momentarily panicked about what was to follow, even as desperately as he wanted it. Sensing his hesitation, she encouraged, "Just do what comes natural." She further reassured him with a gentle, loving look in her eyes.

There was a certain feel a man anticipated upon initially entering a pussy. The expectation Ron had was that to which he was accustomed from his wife, as though all vaginas were the same. But he should have realized that Jenna would be different in a positive way. Every part of the surface of his cock, regardless of shape—the ridge of the head, protrusion of veins, roundness of shaft—was touched by the walls of her pussy as though it was actually changing its own shape to conform to him. It was like wearing a warm, wet, velvety glove. He paused a moment to savor the unbelievable sensation—until it quickly occurred to him that if being motionless inside of her felt so great, thrusting would have to be much better.

So, he eased back very slowly wanting to enjoy the feeling of her pussy until the head was just at her entrance. As an afterthought, he pulled all the way out and slid just the underside of his circumcised foreskin along her clit, then back down and inside at the same very slow pace until his balls nudged her ass.

"Oh, my GOD!" Jenna screamed. "That feels sensational." 

Again, he drew back at a snail's pace, out and up against her clit. She emitted a variety of unintelligible moans and groans of pleasure, then grabbed his ass in an attempt to slam his dick back into her quickly. But Ron resisted, maintaining his slow movement. The tempo was driving her crazy. She whipped her head from side to side, her lips tightly pressed together to muffle the roar she wanted to let loose. In less than a dozen strokes she was cumming uncontrollably, sweat forming between her breasts and a fresh flow of juice from her pussy.

Still, Ron continued his slow pistoning, much to her amazement and delight. He was particularly satisfied with himself because he had made her come but he had not yet himself.

Confidence building, his stroking constant, Ron bent his head to once again tease and partake the sweetness of her luscious nipples. Alternating breasts, he repeated giving a long sucks and a couple of tongue flicks to each. In a few minutes, she came again, but he held out.

More proud of himself than ever, he didn't let up with the slow thrusting. Jenna looked at him with an expression that suggested he was torturing her, but she was too addicted to have him stop. Almost her entire body was covered with a thin layer of sweat. She signaled her desire to continue by running her hands down his back to his ass and squeezing his cheeks. She then reached up and played with his nipples, pinching and twisting the little nubs.




Uncharted Territory Pt. 01



That was a new sensation for Ron. He hadn't known that his own nipples could provide such stimulation. His first reaction was to pump faster, but he resisted. He believed—and had proven it twice so far—that his slow pace would ultimately be more explosive for both of them. Although now, with her emphasis on his nipples, he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out. His goal had been to give her a good orgasm. Succeeding, he decided to go for a second. Now, he set sights on number three, primarily for her own pleasure, but the boost to his ego would not hurt either.

But he was beginning to feel the tightening in his balls and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. He lowered his body to rest on his forearms without losing speed or momentum. He was able to cup the back of her head in his hands, lifting it so they could gaze meaningfully into each others eyes. "I'm about to cum," he whispered.

Jenna smiled as though achieving her own goal. "That's okay. Cum in me, baby. I'm protected." She wrapped her arms around his neck, continuing to look into his eyes.

"Cum with me. Let's cum together."

"I don't know if I can. I've never cum three times in a row before."

"All the more reason. I want to be better than all the other guys." Then, as if to seal the deal, he pressed his lips to hers and they exchanged their most passionate kiss yet. 

It was exactly the impetus that was needed. Without letting go of his lips, Jenna began whimpering as her orgasm overtook her. Knowing that she was cumming brought Ron to the brink and his cock exploded in her pussy, pumping blast after blast of scalding jism into her already saturated pussy. The feeling of his cock swelling and the ensuing eruption inside her had her wrapping her legs around his back to prevent any further thrusting to her highly sensitive clit. Both now completely motionless, the only movement they felt was the pulsing of Ron's penis as it spurted its final few drops.

Finally, they relaxed. Ron eased himself off and out of her, then sat up on the edge of the bed with his feet on the carpeted floor, breathing heavily. Jenna came up behind him, twisting her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He could feel her wet, oozing pussy pressed against his back.

"Ron," Jenna started off somberly, "I don't know quite how to tell you this."

Here it comes, he thought depressingly.

"That was by far the best fucking I've ever had." Her voice became more excited. "I can understand how you might have thought, based on your past, that you might not be up to par. But like I told you at the beginning, you were just out of practice. Like they say about falling off a horse—you just have to get back up. Well, you are definitely back in the saddle again."

He smiled. He did feel good right now. Not just from the after effects of their lovemaking, but he felt alive again sexually. Amazingly, any apprehension he'd had was now gone. "You were incredible. That was certainly nothing like I've ever experienced before. You've made a new man out of me."

"Ron, I've never had anyone fit me so perfectly. Your cock and my pussy are a perfect match." Jenna gave this testimonial while glancing down at his rod as it returned to its convenient travel size. A lingering drop of cum was oozing out of his slit and the rest of him glistened with the combination of their juices. Her mouth watered, so she slid onto the floor between his legs, lapping up that last tasty morsel and cleaning him with her tongue. She loved the taste of sperm and pussy juice mixed together.

Since their evening together began, she had not ceased to amaze him. This was just one more item to add to the list.

When she finished, she eased back on to the bed pushing him down on his side, then molded herself to him in the classic spoon position. "If I died right now, I feel as though my life was complete."

"Mmmm," he mouthed as more or less agreement. He was certain there was still things to be discussed, but at the moment, sexually satisfied and curled around a gorgeous woman, nothing quite came to mind . . .

* * *

The alarm was always set to a classical or some other mild music station to gently awaken Ron. So, it was this morning. Most days he didn't even need it. But today it was like a big brass band brutally shocking him out of slumber. He sprang up, noting the bright red 6:00 flashing. She was only a second behind, but for her the rude awakening had more impact.

"Oh, shit!" she mumbled noticing the time. "Oh, shit."

"Good morning to you too," Ron offered with a smile.

"This is not good. How am I going to sneak back to my room? What am going to tell Beatrice? This is very bad. Very, very bad."

Ron grabbed her and turned her to him to stop her rambling. "It'll be okay. It's only six. Most people are just getting up."

"What about Beatrice?"

"If she knows you're going through a divorce, you've done nothing wrong."

"Maybe you're right."

"Maybe if you hurry, you can sneak in before she awakens."

Jenna took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. Good morning. I didn't intend for this to happen—falling asleep, that is." She smirked. "Everything else I take full credit for."

"As well you should."

Just then, she noticed his morning woody. "Damn!"

"What now?"

Encircling her hand around it, Jenna said, "I wish we had time for this." She stood and quickly dressed. "Can you bring all the papers?"

"Of course."

On the way to the door, she planted one of her patented kisses on him. "More to come later. Pun intended." And with that she was gone.

* * *

The organization's board meetings were designed to last a day and a half so that on the second day everyone had the afternoon to drive home. However, today, Jenna's proposal was the last item on the agenda. It went well, everyone was impressed and it was adopted unanimously. But the chairwoman decided that the executive committee, which consisted only of the six officers of organization, should take a short lunch break after the full board meeting ended, then have their own meeting to discuss the logistics of the project. There was grumbling because this actually affected more than the six officers. Many members who lived in the same town rode together to further save the organization mileage expenses. Only a handful of people who rode alone would not be inconvenienced, and of course, the chair and two others, in whose hometown the meeting was being held.

Jenna and Beatrice were affected because they rode together in the latter's vehicle, and she was not an officer. Those who were required to stay used the time to pack their luggage and would grab a sandwich to eat during the meeting. The two ladies and Ron happened to ride the same elevator up to their rooms. All were glum, particularly Jenna and Ron, who had not had a full night's sleep. Beatrice had said nothing, nor had she given him any odd looks throughout the morning, so either Jenna slipped back into their room before she had awakened or the former had accepted whatever excuse she had been given.

"Damn, I was looking forward to getting home at a reasonable time," Beatrice bemoaned.

"I'm sorry, honey," Jenna offered. "We'll see if we can rush the meeting along."

"At least you guys don't have as far to go as do I," Ron noted. "I'm another two hours past you."

"That's right," Jenna realized. "You actually go through our town, don't you?"

"I do."

"And you ride alone, don't you?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Well, I just thought of this," Jenna said, "but would it be any trouble for me to ride with you and that way Beatrice doesn't have to wait?"

Ron considered the request for a second. "That would be no trouble at all. The company would actually be nice."

Beatrice suddenly brightened. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

"No, it's fine,"

* * *

Not five minutes after he left them, Jenna was knocking on his door. He hadn't noticed before, but she had on another skirt, a little longer than last night's and not nearly as tight; more flowing. A collarless, button-up knit top adequately showed off her well-rounded chest, but was still within the acceptable limits of her reputation. "We packed this morning," she explained as he admitted her. "Beatrice was most appreciative. She wanted to make sure I conveyed that."

"Little does she know, it's my pleasure. By the way, what happened this morning?"

"I didn't lie to her."

"What?" Ron asked incredulously.

"But I didn't tell her everything," Jenna said with a sly grin. "I just told her we both dozed off. It was the truth."

"So, it was. I'm just about finished. Want to grab something to eat? We still have some time."

She came to him, still grinning. "Yes. I want some hot sausage." As she said this, she reached down and cupped the bulge in his pants, which instantly started to get bigger. Now practiced, she automatically adjusted it, giving it room to grow.

"Now?"

"Why not? You said we had time." She didn't wait, instead pushing him back on the bed. He landed in a sitting position with his feet on the floor, then she pushed his upper torso down. Before his head hit she was undoing his pants and pulling them down to mid-thigh. A second later, she was munching on her hot sausage.

It was instantly evident to Ron that this exercise was pre-meditated when Jenna pivoted her body around onto the bed and crawled sideways on her knees, her mouth never letting go of his cock, gathered her skirt around her waist and lowered her bare, moistened pussy down on his face. He was so charged by her lips expertly sliding up and down his shaft that he automatically extended his tongue. She made a point blank landing, his clapper easing right into her now-drenched slit.

Ron's first taste of Jenna's snatch was nothing short of a culinary delight. Sweet and juicy, it far surpassed any meal they would have otherwise had. It didn't get much better than this: a beautiful woman deep-throating his under-utilized cock while he supped on the most delectable pussy he had ever had. Life was good and getting better.

The double stimulation was too much for either to resist for long and they came almost simultaneously, their orgasms no less spectacular than last night.

"Damn, that was the best tasting pussy I've ever had."

Jenna rolled over onto her back, still fondling his softening cock. "Why thank you, sir. I'm glad you like it. Yours was scrumptious, as usual."

With her legs stretched out beside his head, Ron had to thread his arm between them to glance at his watch. "We'd better get ourselves back together. We'll just have time to get to the meeting."

She clamped her legs around his arm, rubbing her pussy against it. "Do we have to? I'm content to just stay right here."

"As am I. But I think it's a bit soon to start calling attention to what we've been doing."

"You're right," she sighed.

He pressed his arm against her outer leg to spread them, then pulled her other leg over his chest so he could plant a big wet kiss on her womanhood. "Come on, let's go."

* * *

Fortunately, the meeting lasted only about an hour, with only one item worth mentioning. Part of the discussion was about Jenna forming a committee to implement her project. Ron should have anticipated it, but his brain was a little foggy from all the great sex last night and today, and the lack of sleep. Again, as though she'd had it all figured out, she very casually stated that it was not a very labor intensive project and that a big committee was not needed. She admitted not having mentioned it to Ron, but if he was willing, with his involvement so far (she winked at him without anyone noticing when she said this) the two of them could easily handle it. Ron had been paying very close attention that time when the chair asked him if he could handle that. His affirmative answer came with no hesitation, but he was certain it was more the result of Jenna's carnal influence rather than any extreme sense of duty.

Once departing the hotel, the pair stopped for a fast food lunch—since they had missed their opportunity to eat food earlier.

"So, where do we go from here?" Jenna asked casually.

"Well, it's a fairly straight run down the highway to your town. Shouldn't take more than a couple of hours," Ron replied, deadpan.

"Very funny," she said tapping him with her foot under the table. "I meant, us."

"I know," he said smiling. "I thought you wanted to let things take their natural course."

"I do. But what does that mean, exactly? You live two hours away. It's not like we can just meet for a drink after work. Does your work take you my way very often?"

He shrugged. "I won't say never, but it hasn't so far."

"Would you ever consider coming up on a weekend?"

"I would. Would you?"

"Absolutely."

"Then problem mostly solved."

Jenna was hesitant to ask about the coming weekend, hoping he would mention it instead. "I'm sensing you're not real comfortable talking about these things."

"Not true. I believe I was the one who initiated the discussion last night. Although, I will admit to not being accustomed to it. In my marriage, most things like this and last night you didn't talk about, you just did it—or didn't do it."  

"Is it me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, have I overwhelmed you? Did I come on too strong with my past and then initiating all the sex? Some guys don't like an aggressive woman. And you know, we talked about me coming across as so wholesome and proper, but you actually give a very similar impression—for a man, that is."

"Well, Jenna, we're just from radically different backgrounds. I hope you don't think that we can sit here and discuss our differences and in the course of a couple of conversations expect each other to conform to one way or the other."

"Of course, I know that."

"Well, we just need to do as you said and let things take their natural course. Because if one of us tries to coerce the other to do or be something we don't want to do or be we'll end up nowhere. You, of all people, should know that."

"You're right. I do. I'm just so attracted to you—I guess I'm impatient. Did I tell you, impatience is one of my faults."

"Now you tell me," he embellished.

* * *

Once in the car, Jenna advised: "I need to warn you that I have a tendency to nod off during long road trips. If I do and it bothers you, just nudge me."

True to her word, within ten minutes, Jenna was asleep. In anticipation, she had slid her seat as far back as possible and reclined her seatback a bit. Involuntarily, she crossed her legs, causing her skirt to rise, treating him to another pleasing view of her toned legs.

Shifting his attention back and forth between the road ahead and the reposed Jenna, Ron allowed his eyes to travel up her perfect torso to her breasts that sat up on her chest like two halves of a softball and were capped by two pointed nipples suggesting she was braless, even disregarding the flimsy garment she wore underneath last night. Except a couple of trips to the Ladies' Room, he'd been with her constantly since their extracurricular activity between meetings, so it was likely she was still without panties, making it a probability that the shirt and skirt were all that she had on. What did that mean, he wondered?

Jenna raised her arms to rest them on the seat above her head. In the process, the bottom of her shirt was pulled above her navel. Naturally, her smooth, flat abdomen was punctuated by an innie belly button. Ron also noticed that the zipper on her skirt had snuck down a few teeth, about a quarter of its length. Apparently, the tension on the material of her skirt from her sitting position had tugged the slide fastener to spread. It was also digging into her skin.

It wasn't long before that irritation prompted action. Still napping, Jenna reached down to rub the affected area, the activity—unintentionally?—pushing the zipper virtually all of the way down. The two corners of the skirt where the waist met the zipper peeled up a bit exposing a tad more skin. He had been correct: still no panties.

Ron was amazed that even though he had seen her beautiful nude body, an image that was still vivid in his mind's eye, had slept naked with her pressed against him, the sight before him with bits and pieces of skin exposed, parts not normally visible, was as much a turn on as the others. Of course, he continued to watch.

He was not disappointed. She changed her position, twisting a little, and the opening became wider. Adjusting the effect this was having on his cock, Ron had to remind himself that he was driving and had to direct his focus more to the highway.

But that didn't last long as she drew attention back with a sound—no, more of a moan. A glance at her face with rapid eye movement under her lids told him she was dreaming. Her hand went inside her shirt, forcing another button open, where her forefinger sought her nipple. Its gentle caressing elicited greater moaning. She was obviously having an erotic dream. The further evidence was her other hand snaking down her skirt through the opening created by the zipper. She uncrossed and spread her legs slightly, and there was no disguising the masturbatory motion of her wrist.

Ron whipped his eyes to her face to assure she was still asleep—she was—then quickly to the road to regain perspective. But he couldn't help continual sideways glances at what she was doing. Getting herself off while sleeping—this woman really was into sex.

Suddenly, Jenna's eyes flashed open with a look of extreme concern. She turned to Ron, her mouth forming an "O" of shock. "Oh, my God, I can't believe I was doing that," she said regretfully, her hands covering her face. "I'm so embarrassed."

"I didn't bother me—well, not entirely," Ron remarked, glancing down at his cock. "And you did say you really liked sex."

"I was reliving last night in a dream. I didn't . . . It wasn't . . . I didn't even know someone could do that in their sleep."

"You also said that the mind was an amazing device."

Easing her seatback upright, Jenna apparently had no idea about the state of her clothes because she made no attempt to fix anything. The bottom of her shirt did not drop completely, leaving a small stretch of midriff still visible, but the waist of the skirt was pulled further down. "I don't know what to say."

"Say nothing. I was actually enjoying the show."

"I'll bet you were." Then she spotted his bulge. "Oh, wow, you really were." She reached over to pet his cock through his pants. "And now this poor fellow is suffocating." She made a move to undo his belt.

"Whoa, what are you doing?"

"Relax," Jenna cooed as though what she was doing was the most normal thing. The clasp and zipper of his pants were next, followed by her tugging down the waistband of his jockeys to spring loose his rod. She held it pointing straight up, then used the finger of her other hand to scoop up the drop of pre-cum that oozed out.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea," Ron said worriedly.

"You just pay attention to the road. I'll concentrate on this bad boy."

"Yeah, right." Once again, she was taking him into uncharted territory. As her mouth descended and engulfed his swollen shaft, his concerns about the safety of this exercise faded, although he did force his mind to stay alert to the highway. Dangerous, though this was, there was still a huge element of excitement in it.

And Ron was no stranger to multi-tasking while driving. He had been known to do light reading and writing in the car on the road. He had become practiced at frequently glancing through the windshield, and so far, had yet to have a problem. But with the slow, easy suction that Jenna's sweet lips were applying to his rock hard cock, he was definitely being put to the test. It was difficult not to put his head back, close his eyes and enjoy the wonder that was Jenna's mouth. Up and down, up and down, in constant, fluid motion, her tongue massaging the tender skin on the underside below the swollen head.




Uncharted Territory Pt. 02



Author's Note: Please read Uncharted Territory Part 01 first, if you haven't already. 

Part 02: The Test

The week started exceptionally well. Ron felt he was on top of the world. His coworkers noticed he walked with a bounce in is step, he was more cheerful, more friendly, more talkative. He felt strangely free of stress, as though in addition to all the immense pleasure he had derived from all the intense and incredible sex, his body had also been purged of tension and worry. He even slept better.

And all because he had gotten laid.

Jenna had been correct: the mind was an incredible device.

He thought about her constantly her beautiful face and body, her perfect tits and ass, and that lovely flower with its dainty petals between her legs. And of course, there was her stellar, easy-going, likeable personality and intellect. What a package!

Naturally, Ron relived every moment of their time together, especially the spectacular sex. It was still almost surreal to think it had all really happened. It was his own Literotica story. But best of all, he had performed in a manner that made it worthy of a Literotica story.

Ron rode that cloud for a couple of days until—like all clouds—it began to evaporate, then the storm of doubt rolled in and he started questioning what happened. Oh, the memory of it was still there, but he began to view it through a fog.

No longer certain was he that his sudden sexual prowess was so keen. Face it, he had been so sexually frustrated for so long that any woman could have probably gotten him off so well. Hell, it was likely that even Dana could have done it—if she had actually participated instead of just laying there as she always did.

Had it really required someone as skilled as Jenna?

On the other hand, maybe it actually was her talent. Maybe he hadn't really performed that well. Maybe she made him think he had. Did she really have all of those orgasms? He wondered. That was the curious thing about a woman's climax. Could a man ever really be sure that it occurred? Or was it merely good acting? Guys were ever so much easier to tell. Ejaculation couldn't really be faked.

Oh, why all this doubt, this confusion? Why couldn't he just accept things at face value? Why did he have to analyze everything? Although, that was part of his job, and therefore, part of his nature. He worked with computers. If it was a hardware issue, you analyzed it, determined the problem, and either fixed or replaced the faulty part. With software, you analyzed the program, determined the cause and fixed or replaced a line of code.

But this situation wasn't so clear cut. What was he to do?

Perhaps he just needed another weekend with Jenna to revitalize himself, remind himself that he could satisfy a woman. But is that what would really happen, or would it just be her letting him think it was happening. Or was it that he really could satisfy her and the real question was could he satisfy another woman? Were he and Jenna just that compatible or was she just so sexually attuned that anyone could make her come?

So now, what was the solution? Did he have to start sleeping around to prove to himself he could satisfy other women? If so, how many before he would be convinced? But if he was so uncertain of himself as to wonder whether he could please other women, what made him think he could even get another woman to sleep with him to even attempt to satisfy one?

Damn you, Dana, you did this. Ron had always been a person who was confident in his abilities. Now, he was turning into a sexual neurotic.

He needed a relaxing cold beer to break out of these tortuous, self-defeating thoughts. Fortunately, it was closing time.

* * *

On any given day after work, a number of people from the office could be found wetting their whistles at the lounge down the street. Prior to his breakup with Dana, Ron had rarely visited the popular watering hole. Now, he was a more frequent participant. On this Tuesday, it was where he headed.

He recognized a number of employees who were bellied up to the bar, but none he was particularly close to, although there were one or two with whom he could at least shoot the shit. After he got his beer, but before he could head in their direction, he heard someone call his name.

Sitting alone in a booth was Chelsea, the senior of two administrative assistants to the president of the company. She summoned him over. "Join me."

Ron did so without hesitation, primarily because he really liked her. She was also a good person to have on your side with the boss (he always made sure her computer was in top shape with the latest updates and software). She either liked you or she didn't, and it was said if she didn't you would never know it. She had told him that she liked him, and he had the sense she would only say that if she really meant it. The further evidence was in her invitation.

Chelsea's other appeal was that—aside from being a dozen or more years older than he; late 30s, early 40s he guessed—she was a very attractive woman. She took very good care of herself, was dark complected with almost black hair, average female height, and her best feature was her large, but thankfully not huge, breasts that she liked to show off with tight, low cut shirts. Best of all, she could get away with it.

"So, what brings you here?" she asked conversationally. "You're not a regular."

"I was going to ask the same of you?"

"Shall we just say that some days the job is more tedious than others and a little attitude adjustment is needed before the trip home?" Chelsea held up her martini glass in a mock toast.

"Understood." Ron likewise lifted his beer bottle. Translated, she meant the boss had been a bigger asshole today than usual.

"And you?"

Ron shrugged. "Nothing to go home to."

"The divorce not going well?"

"No, no. No problems there."

"Still a small flame for Dana?"

"Long extinguished. I'm over that."

"So, there's another woman." Chelsea posed it as a statement rather than a question—as though she already knew.

"What makes you say that?" Ron played it cool, but underneath, not so much.

"Womanly intuition."

"You know I volunteer for a non-profit organization?"

"You had a board meeting this weekend as I recall."

"Yes."

"You met a woman." Another statement. Did she really have him pegged?

"I actually already knew her."

"And you got to know her better."

Ron wanted to say: Why don't you let me tell the story. But then it might have been obvious how little he wanted to say. "Yes."

"And then?"

"You seem to have the conversation all figured out," Ron said lightheartedly. "You tell me."

"She wants a relationship, but you're not sure you want to be involved again so soon."

"That's partly correct."

"Ah," Chelsea said, leaning back in her seat, "it's sexual." With that, she placed her hand in her cleavage, rubbing up and down as though scratching an itch, but more as a gesture one might do while lost in thought. With her other hand, she sipped her martini.

Ron had yet to do any more than give her breasts the occasional quick glance, but with her touching them, she was almost calling full attention to them. Now, it was difficult to look at anything else. He also now noticed that her nipples had begun to make their presence known as the imprint in her shirt grew—as though the mention of the word sex had had an effect on her.

He didn't know how to respond to her last comment. Did he really want to get into that subject with her?

"No comment?" she prodded.

"That subject is part of the equation," Ron explained, uncomfortably, "but it is rather complicated."

It evoked a snicker from Chelsea. "Are you afraid to discuss sex with me? Am I too old for you?"

"No, no, no. Not at all. To both questions. It's just . . . as I said . . . complicated."

"Okay. Well, I won't pry. But just know that if you change your mind, I'm a good listener."

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

"You're sure it's not because I'm older?"

"Absolutely not," Ron replied honestly. "That's not even a consideration. I don't even think of you as older."

"That's very sweet of you," she smiled warmly. Again her fingers toyed with her cleavage. The nipples had never faltered and were still at full attention. "You ever had an older woman?"

The question should have caught him off guard, but it didn't. He wasn't sure why. The beer was kicking in, and because of her tits, he was viewing Chelsea not as the boss's assistant, not as a co-worker, but as an attractive, sexy woman. So, why not have a little fun. "No, I have not."

"Because you didn't want to or just never had the opportunity?"

"Of your two choices, the latter."

"Buuuut?" She dragged it out to elicit further explanation.

"I never cheated on Dana."

"Oh, you doll," Chelsea said in genuine appreciation. "Are you telling me you've only ever had sex with your wife?"

"No."

"Oh, and the new girl."

"There was a girl before Dana."

"Three, then."

"You act surprised."

"You're a good looking, hunky guy, Ron." She became diplomatic. "I wouldn't have been surprised if there had been more. But it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I never said I was." He swallowed the last mouthful of beer, and noticed Chelsea's glass was empty. "Can I get you another?"

"Please. This is getting interesting."

Standing at the bar waiting for their second round, Ron was able to see their table. He was surprised to notice Chelsea touching up her make-up and wondered why. Perhaps this would be her last drink before she headed home to her husband. Stupidly, nothing beyond that occurred to him, even as she tugged her shirt down a bit to show a little more cleavage. On the walk back to the table, drinks in hand, he was able to see her shapely legs under the table, of course crossed, and revealing a fair amount of thigh. If she could see herself through his eyes, age wouldn't even cross her mind. This was a real woman.

"Thank you, sir," she said, accepting the martini.

Before she could jump in with more questions, Ron asked, "Did you come alone?"

"Yes. Is that bad?"

"No. Just not many women do."

"You mean, women my age."

"I didn't say that."

"Well, I'm a bachelorette tonight. No hurry to get home."

Ron nodded. "Hubby out of town?"

"Yes. Although it's not much different when he's home."

"Sounds sad."

Chelsea shrugged. "After a few years, things become routine."

"You seem to have a hang-up about age."

"As you'll eventually see, it becomes a factor."

"Age is just a state of mind," Ron quoted.

"Easy for you to say. You're still young."

It was his turn to psychoanalyze. "So, your husband is not so attentive." He took her tack and offered statements instead of questions.

"Not so much."

"So, it's a sexual issue with you, as well." 

"Touché." 

"Want to talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about. It's a tired old tale. Operative word: old. You can probably figure it out."

Ron let his eyes fall to her chest and the greater expanse of breast available to his eyes. He thought he could almost see the upper curve of an areola. He felt a hard on coming. "Would it help if I told you what an attractive woman you are? And I remind you this is coming from a younger man."

"It doesn't hurt. But it's not enough."

"What would be enough?"

"Well, right now, a ride home."

"Of course."

"Let me go ahead. I don't want anyone to see us walk out together."

* * *

Déjà vu is what it was.

Driving along with Chelsea in the passenger seat, legs crossed, dress up exposing thigh and the reflection of passed street lights highlighting the tops of her boobs was not unlike the ride home with Jenna; except that the administrative assistant was more refined, more elegant than the wildcat from the organization.

Ron attempted to keep the conversation generic since sex and relationships seemed to be off limit subject for each. "Not that it matters, but how else would you have gotten home?"

"Any one from the office still in the lounge would have been happy to give me a ride. Too many want to be in with the boss's secretary." 

There was a sadness in her voice that touched him. "That had a rather lonely sound to it."

"Because of my position, I can't get too close to many people," Chelsea bemoaned. "I won't let anyone use me to get to the boss. Unfortunately, that's what too many want to do."

"Not me."

"I know. You're one of the rare few I would call a friend." There was a genuineness in her voice.

"Thanks. I'm touched."

It was a short ride to her home.

"Come in," Chelsea offered when he pulled up to her address. It was actually more of a command. Once inside, she said, "Open a nice bottle of wine from the rack in the kitchen. I'm going to get out of these clothes. Be back in a minute."

Ron uncorked a nice Pinot Noir, hoping a light wine might lighten the mood that was growing somber by the minute.

Chelsea returned wearing a short negligee, not quite see-through, covered with a matching robe. She looked stunning, and his expression reflected that feeling. He didn't see this coming.

Seeing the shock and awe on his face, Chelsea commented, "You obviously didn't see this coming. You really have been off the market."

It all instantly fell into place for Ron: the invitation to her table, the attempted discussion about sex, the more than usual display of tits, letting him know not only that her husband wasn't servicing her, but that he was also out of town, the ride home, the invitation inside, changing into something more comfortable. After all of this time, he should have been worrying about more than just being able to satisfy a woman in bed; he should have realized he didn't recognize the signs—just as had happened with Jenna.

Okay, well, this was another trip into uncharted territory. But it was not going to be a wasted one.

With strains of Simon and Garfunkel playing in his head, in his best Dustin Hoffman imitation, Ron said, "Gee, Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?"

Chelsea had been standing there waiting a few moments to see what he was going to do, but she couldn't help busting out laughing. Yet it was confirmation that she had made the right decision. She went to him intending to wrap her arms around him, but he was holding two glasses of wine so he took evasive action to prevent spillage. They unintentionally worked against one another, collided, sending a splash of wine onto her chest that cascaded over the top of her breasts funneling down her cleavage.

Thinking quickly, and now knowing what he was about, Ron set the glasses down on a nearby counter, and before Chelsea could react, he started slurping wine from between her tits.

At first mystified by Ron's actions, Chelsea was quickly swept into it when his tongue action turned to kisses. "Oh, yeah, baby, clean me up!"

Ron's penis took over thinking for him, and it couldn't get enough of those marvelous mammaries. Without his mouth ever leaving her skin, he slipped her robe off, then eased the thin straps of her nightie off her shoulders. Inadvertently, the entire garment also slid down her body to the floor—not his plan, but it worked nonetheless.

Now, onto the piece de resistance: those pointy nipples that had been teasing him all evening. He sucked on them, giving each equal attention, like a baby long overdue for a meal.

It felt so wonderful, Chelsea had to take a step back to lean against the wall or she would certainly collapse. But she dragged him with her.

With intensifying passion, Ron lifted her to raise her breasts even with his mouth, then carried her to the nearby couch. He set her down gently, kissing a trail south to her shaved pussy. When his talented tongue made contact with her drenched clit, she screamed: "Oh, my god!" then grabbed his head to keep it affixed to her burning pussy. He alternated flicking her button, then bathing it in circular motions. Her breathing was a combination of quick breaths and whimpers. He sucked the juice flowing from her like delectable candy. She came in a series of jerks and shudders, reveling in the ecstacy until her clitoris became so sensitive she had to push him away.

Upon lifting his head and seeing the combination of his saliva and her juices smeared all over his face, she roughly pressed her lips to his both kissing and licking at the mixture. Coming up for air, Chelsea stammered, "Oh, Ron, you are incredible. Make love to me, darling."

But before he could even stand to remove his trousers, she was grabbing at his belt to do it for him. When she had his clothes open enough to pull his pants and jockeys down, he stood and motion caused the garments to slide to his ankles. It also resulted in his rock hard boner springing free and whacking her in the face. Momentarily stunned, her eyes widened and assumed a wanton expression as she viewed the symbol of pleasure before her. Strangely, she did not take him into her mouth, as he might have expected, but instead she grasped it and pressed it to her chest between her tits—a gesture equally as appealing—and continued to hug it as though absorbing warmth from it.

Ron was going to lay her down on the sofa, but she halted him. "Not here. Let's do it right." Chelsea stood and led him down the hall to her bedroom. He had a brief, creepy feeling at the thought of fucking a woman in the bed she slept in with her husband. But she had already laid down with her legs spread and was pulling on his cock, so the weirdness passed. She yanked his rod almost as if it was not attached to him and guided it right to her yearning, sopping pussy.

Once inserted and enjoying Ron's trademark slow plunging, Chelsea wrapped her arms and legs around him as though holding on for dear life. Her pussy felt totally different from Jenna's, smaller and tighter, the obvious result of little use. Another difference was the look of pure lust on her face. And where Jenna was a moaner, Chelsea was quite verbal. She was enjoying it positively: "Oh, yes; oh, yes; oh, yes!" negatively: Oh, no; oh, no; oh, no!" and even spiritually: "Oh, god; oh, god; oh, god!" And most importantly, she was loving the one she was with: "Oh, Ron; oh, Ron; oh, Ron!"

Of course, it was no less pleasurable for him. Her tightness was maddening, and that coupled with the licking he'd already given her had him ready to explode. He held back, waiting for her, and within seconds, she was screaming: "I'm coming! I'm actually coming!"

"I'm right with you," Ron groaned.

"Oh, yeah, darling, come with me. Come with me. Come in me. Oh, fuck yeah!" She kept up the stream of expletives and was still coming long after he had hosed her inside. She wouldn't let him stop pumping, and he could feel his semen being plunged out with each stroke. Just as he was about to lose his erection, she came again.

When she was completely finished, Ron pulled his wilted stick out and rolled over onto his back beside her, completely spent.

Chelsea turned her head to face him, seemingly in a fog. "My, god, Ron, that was the best sex I've had in years. I've never come three times in one night. You are incredible!" She rolled her head back taking a deep breath, basking in the afterglow, a dreamy expression forming on her face.

He took a few minutes to catch his own breath, and when he looked back at her, she was asleep. He frowned. That was supposed to be his job, he thought, wryly. Easing out of the bed gently so as not to awaken her, Ron stepped into the bathroom to clean off. She was still sleeping upon his return so he took a minute to admire her body as this was the first opportunity he'd had to really see all of it unclothed. There were a number of hot looking twenty-somethings that flitted around the office in clothes designed to show off their great bodies. But not one of them had a thing on Chelsea. She could stand up to any one of them. Why would a husband not be proud (and not chronically horny) with a wife like that? Unless, of course, there was a side of her that was a total bitch.




Uncharted Territory Pt. 02



With a shrug, Ron lifted the spread that she lay on and doubled it over to cover her, planted a kiss on her cheek, then departed—but not with out a big smile on his face.

He had done it again, he realized. He had satisfied another woman, an older one at that, just with his abilities. Heading for his SUV, the spring had returned to his step.

* * *

Wednesday started on another high note, but as the day wore on, so did Ron's confidence. He was encouraged by his performance last night, but nagged by the thought that Chelsea had obviously been so horny that it really hadn't taken much skill to get her off—even three times. Still, it was a step in the right direction.

Of further concern was what to do or say when he saw Chelsea today: compliment her on a great fuck last night, pretend like nothing happened, or just react to whatever she did? He also wondered what he might have gotten himself into. Was this just a one night stand: two ships passing in the night? Or did she expect it to happen again, and if so, how soon and how much? Another chance romp would be delightful, but he didn't want to carry on an affair with a married woman.

Fortunately, Ron had no reason to visit the executive suite all day, so he thought he might have been home free—or at least, postponing the inevitable. That is, until he received a call to go up and take a look at Debi's computer. Debi was the junior of the boss's two administrative assistants, one of those hot twenty-somethings and probably the only one whose body could give Chelsea some serious competition—which was undoubtedly why she worked for the boss. Debi was also British, and her accent alone was a turn on.

So now, not only would Ron have to interact with Chelsea, but he would have to give his attention to Debi instead. This could be troublesome.

However, when he stepped into the executive suite, neither of the ladies were present. He walked over to the boss's office to see if either was in there. Chelsea unexpectedly came out, and as though knowing he was there, cupped his balls through his pants and said, "Looking for me?"

Almost choking, Ron's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he glanced at the door to the boss's office.

"Relax. He's gone for the day," Chelsea giggled.

"I have a request to look at Debi's computer," he stuttered.

"She'll be back in a minute," Chelsea advised, cheerfully.

Well, last evening had certainly done her a world of good, Ron thought. Finally composed, he noted that fact.

She smiled warmly. "That was awfully sweet of you to cover me. Sorry I fell asleep on you, but I haven't had such a good night's sleep in ages. You're just what the doctor ordered. What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"

"No, I just wasn't sure what to expect when I saw you today," he answered honestly.

"Well, you put the same bounce in my step that you've been having. It's amazing what a little good sex can do for you."

"That's all it was?" Ron asked in mock disappointment. "Good?"

"You know it was better than good. I hope we get to do it again sometime. But until then, don't wait around. That was a chance get together."

"Chance? I got the impression it was planned all the way."

Chelsea chuckled. "I had no idea you would come to the bar."

"You would have just found someone else."

She almost took offense to that statement. Her strong disagreement came across in her voice. "Well, I don't know what you think of me, Ron, but that was the first time I have ever done anything like that."

"I'm sorry," he quickly mentioned, "I didn't mean—"

"I know. I'll allow you that one. Despite what I might have led you to believe," Chelsea explained, "I do love my husband. While he might not be worth a damn in bed, he's a good man and a good provider and I wouldn't leave him. You're different than all the other schmucky guys and you came along at a time when I needed something he couldn't give me. Was it wrong? Probably. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. Why? Well, don't let this go to your head, but you're very good in bed. I meant it when I said I hope we can do it again sometime, but until then, let's just leave it at that."

It almost stung like a reprimand, but he let it go. "Will it change our working relationship?"

"Not unless you change it." Chelsea leaned in and kissed him on the lips. "Now I've got to go pick up my husband at the airport. Keep your tool sharpened." With that, she swatted his crotch, causing him to jerk back, then turned, grabbed her purse off her desk and left.

Ron shook his head. Damn! Between last night and just now, if those weren't two of the strangest exchanges ever. Talk about uncharted territory!

At that moment, Debi appeared. Ron had to take a moment to reconsider his earlier thought about Chelsea being able to stand up to the junior assistant. The statuesque brunette was taller than her co-worker, but built almost identically with large breasts, yet not so much as to be disproportional. He legs were shapely with very well-defined thighs that might be considered by some to be a bit pronounced, but somehow looked sexy to Ron. Her short skirt and low cut top wrapped it all in an eye-catching package. Apparently, the boss went for a certain look. She sat at her desk, her skirt revealing even more of those wonderful thighs, which she made no attempt to conceal.

Pulling himself together, Ron asked, "So, what seems to be the problem." He stepped closer to her desk.

Instead of sliding her chair in to reach her keyboard, she simply leaned over, reached out and tapped a key. He got a good look down her top. They were everything he thought they would be. "I get this message." He loved her accent.

It was a message that said a network wire might be unplugged. Quite often, it meant nothing, but he still had to go through the motions. "Well, let's check the obvious."

He got down on the floor on his back to slide under her desk where those incredible legs normally resided. Uncrossing her legs, wider, he thought, than was necessary, she eased her chair back but not much, just enough for him to crawl under to reach the back of her computer which stood on the floor in her leg space. He reached around to feel for the Category 5 wire. He happened to glance in her direction, noticing her legs were still spread, and from this vantage point, he could see clear up her skirt. For a moment, he thought it was too dark because he couldn't see any light colored panties at the end of the tunnel. Then it occurred to him that maybe she was wearing dark ones. He was about to give up the sophomorish exercise when he thought he saw something glistening. All at once, he realized he was seeing a drop of moisture from . . . her pussy? She was wearing no undergarments and she was . . . getting wet.

It was that moment that Ron discovered her cable had become slightly dislodged, but he was too preoccupied to re-seat it. He also became aware that he was sporting a serious hard on, though he didn't know how long he'd had it. He didn't think she could see him watching her from her angle, and he could only imagine what scene she was faced with, but certainly the lower half of his body and a mountainous bulge in his pants had to be a huge part of it. Still, she did not appear to be moving away. Could that possibly be what was making her juices flow?

The question now was how long did he let this little escapade continue? He detected more moisture between her legs—or was it wishful thinking. Had to be because he surely felt something wet oozing from his cock.

Debi leaned down to see him, adding her generous tits to his depth of field. Another drop in his pants. "How's it coming?" she asked.

"Coming might be the operative word," Ron uttered, not loudly.

"Excuse me?"

Okay, he couldn't keep this up; well, he could keep it up as long as she remained in that position. His mind was going soft. Quickly fixing the wire, he asked, "Did the message go away?"

"Yes, it did," she answered, as though impressed that he could plug in a wire. Of course, she didn't know it had been that simple. Should he let on?

However, it apparently wasn't over yet. The next thing he knew, something was rubbing his cock through his pants. Tilting his head, it appeared to be her bare foot.

She saw him look up. "Sorry. I . . . I was wondering if it was real."

Now, it was his turn to say: "Excuse me?"

"Well, you know, some blokes . . ."

"Did you think I maybe had a banana in my pocket?"

"No, no, but some guys just have a little weeny. I wanted to make sure you had a real piece of banger."

"A what?"

"Sorry. What you call sausage."

"Oh, and why is that so important to you?"

"So that when I do this—" she reached down and unzipped his zipper "—and then do this—" she fished out his steel spike "—I won't be disappointed. Because when I do this—" she was now on her knees swallowing his cock "—I want prime steak, not ground meat." She went right on devouring his cock, wetting every inch of it. All the way down to the base she would go, then up to the tip, lathering the mushroom, tonguing the slit. On it went for several minutes as Ron relaxed, enjoying the blow job. It was so pleasurable and she was so good at it he was in no hurry to come.

However, the routine suddenly changed, but before he could be disappointed, she tilted his cock toward his stomach, continually and gently stroking it, then leaned in and took his nearest ball in her mouth and sucked on it like it was hard candy.

Uncharted territory, to be sure, but what an overwhelming feeling. Forget wanting to hold off his orgasm, this was making it almost impossible not to. And when she repeated the action on his other testicle, the first shot of semen burst into her hand, which was around his glans as though she anticipated his climax would happen when it did.

"Mmmm, steak sauce," Debi murmured, redirecting her mouth to the spurting head. She'd already rubbed a fair amount of it all over the top of his cock, then she swallowed the remaining few jets as they blasted right into her mouth. Finally, she licked all of the smeared stuff off of his shaft and her hand until both were clean.

Ron slid out from under her desk and what had to have been a bizarre scene: him lying on the floor halfway beneath her desk and she on her knees giving him oral sex. He wondered if something had happened to him prior to last weekend. Had he hit his head or had someone slipped something in a drink? First, Jenna, then Chelsea, now Debi; why was he suddenly so lucky with sex? Was he giving off some aura that only horny women could see?

"Well, that was fun," he commented, lamely, for lack of anything better to say while zipping back up.

"What time do you get off?" Debi asked, like a cheap pick-up line.

"I think I just did," he quipped.

"I meant, work."

Ron glanced at his watch. "Coincidentally, I just did."

"Want to do something?"

"Like?"

"More of what we just did," she answered with a shrug—not one of indifference, but rather one of uncertainty about how to ask.

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, Ron had to ask anyway: "Why me? Why now? I've worked here for years."

Debi hung her head, somewhat embarrassed. "I hate to answer a question with another question, but why do you want to know? Most blokes would be glad just to be asked."

"As am I. Let's just say I've had a couple other curious opportunities this week, which I've never had before, and as far as I know, I'm the same person who left here last Friday."

"On the contrary, you're not. You've got a bounce in your step, you're more friendly, witty. A lot of us have noticed."

"So, because of that, you . . ." Ron let his head bob from side to side a few times, then nodded to the floor by her desk.

"Do you mind if we continue this conversation on the way out?" She gestured her head toward the boss's office. "Wouldn't want him to call and get stuck here."

"Of course," As they left the executive suite, Ron reminded: "So, you were saying?"

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Debi, I'm going through a divorce and I've learned some things about myself this week, which might explain the changes everyone seems to have noticed. So, I guess you could say I'm on a journey to find myself. Most of where I've gone has been uncharted territory. What you have to say might be a further clue."

Debi nodded her understanding. "I . . . I . . . I've actually had my eye on you for quite some time, but Mother Superior wouldn't allow me to pursue you."

"Mother Superior?" he repeated.

"Chelsea. Look, she's a wonderful person, but more often than not, she acts like she's the boss. The trouble is, she has the boss's ear."

"Whoa. Go back to Chelsea wouldn't allow you to pursue me," Ron said, totally confused. "What exactly does that mean?"

"Don't take me wrong. We do get on very well. And I've made comments after you've come up in the past about how handsome you are or the bulge you sometimes sported. Sometimes, I was more descriptive—which I won't embarrass myself by going into. Then, after one such remark, Chelsea straight up said it was okay for me to admire from afar, but to leave you alone. If I didn't know better, I would've thought she wanted you all to herself."

Ron chuckled to lend credence to the better she thought she knew. Except that, in reality, Debi might not have been far off. It explained some things, but also raised another question. "What suddenly changed?"

"I'm really not sure," Debi answered honestly. "I mentioned my little computer problem and that I was going to call you. And I might have—" she cleared her throat, but it seemed more a cover-up "—made some other wishful statement and she said you were going through a divorce and could probably use the right kind of female companionship, so I should disregard any previous suggestions along those lines she might have made. So, knowing you were on your way up, I went to touch up, and when I came back, she was gone, you were there with the most inviting bulge and here were are."

Taking several seconds to digest her story, Ron finally said, "So, I guess the question now is, where are we going?"

"I could really go for some pizza," Debi said very animatedly.

Ron frowned. "I thought we were going to do more of what we had done?"

"We are, love." She leaned closer to him as they walked out of the building as though not to be overheard—though no one was around—and whispered, "I'm going to fuck your brains out. But first, we need food to build our strength."

It gave Ron a hard on, so he said, "Okay."

"How about Mama Rosa's?"

"Not familiar with it."

"My, God, it's the absolute best pizza. It's not far out of the way. We can pick it up."

"And take it where?"

"Well, I have a roommate, but I'm not ready to share yet. Your place?"

"Why not?"

* * *

"Oh, my God, you've got a fireplace!" Debi noted with great excitement when they entered Ron's apartment.

He and Dana had sold their house as neither wanted the memory of it. They also made certain to find apartments far away from one another, and as Dana leased one nearest her family, Ron had the rest of the city to choose from. So, he selected a very nice one.

"I love a nice fire," Debi went on. "Do you suppose we could light one? They're ever so much fun to stretch out before."

Ron shrugged. "I guess it's cool enough." It was that time of the year, autumn, when the days were warm and the nights were cool; tonight was one of those. However, at this point, if a fire was all it took to put her in the mood, he'd light one and turn on the air conditioner if it got too warm.

By the time she went into his kitchen to pour them each a glass of red wine and came back, Ron had a nice, warm flame burning. He had taken a seat on the sofa, but she sat on the floor against it on the end nearest the fire. Pushing the coffee table out of the way, he slid down to join her, handing her a piece of pizza. After his first bite, he had to admit that it was one of the best he had ever had. She'd had no regard for her skirt when she plopped down, it was well up exposing nearly all of her thighs. Knowing it would be coming off before long, he was less inclined to steal glances, but it was still in his nature to do so here and there.

"So, how long have you been in the United States?" Ron asked casually while they munched on the pizza.

"Three, four years I should think."

"Why here? We're probably a little out of the way for foreigners. Why not New York or Chicago or someplace like that?"

"Actually, I did start out in New York. I was working in London and met this American chap who was doing business with my employer, told him I'd like to come to the States. He actually offered me a job. It sounded legitimate so I took him up on it. He paid my way, but he expected quite a bit more than the job required, if you take my meaning. Then I met our boss, who was doing business with my American company, and he offered me a job here. I'd never heard of this town or his company and thought I might be in for the same treatment. But we talked about it and he swore it was all on the up and up. So, I took the chance. He turned out to be a man of his word."

"That's interesting," Ron commented. "I've heard some stories about his escapades with women."

"And they're probably all true," Debi acknowledged. "But he doesn't mix business with pleasure. And as far as I know, and I feel fairly comfortable in saying, he doesn't screw the help. He just likes to have attractive women around. I overheard a conversation once with a friend of his who had popped around for a visit. The friend asked why he had so many hot women working for him. The boss explained that whenever he had a situation in hiring employees where two applicants were equally qualified for the job he always gave the advantage to the beautiful woman."

Ron chuckled. "Well, I guess you have to have some criteria." They each finished a slice and washed it down with a sip of wine. "So, are you actually from London?"

Debi turned to lean up against the hearth and was now facing Ron. She had already kicked off her shoes, and with her skirt near up to her crotch, he could easily spot her still uncovered, still wet pussy. "For all intents and purposes, yes. But technically, I was born near Greenwich, you know, where the prime meridian is, the world's timekeeper, where Henry VIII was born and all that. It's what you yanks would probably call a suburb."

"Do you still have family there?"

She wrangled her foot between his legs and, once again, used her sole to play with his cock, but this time, more in a fidgeting manner. "Yup. Mum and dad, two sisters and other assorted relatives. They all thought I was bonkers coming here, but I think they've accepted it now. Do you have a nice, fluffy comforter? I'd like to get comfortable here in front the fire."

"I do." Ron stood, having to adjust his penis, then walked into his bedroom to get the comforter off his bed. For a second he toyed with the idea of slipping into something "more comfortable" himself, but he really didn't know what that would be.  

When he returned to the living room, Debi had already slipped out of her clothes. He moved the coffee table even further out of the way and spread the comforter on the carpeted floor. She wasn't shy about stretching out on it, on her back with her legs spread and up, bent at the knees, allowing the warmth of the flames to tease her already heated pussy.

"Ah, dessert," Ron remarked, pushing her back a little from the fire and dropping to his belly to sample her delicacy. It was a sweet and creamy aphrodisiac. He savored her sugary juices as his tongue explored every millimeter of her womanhood. She tasted different than Jenna and Chelsea, but no less appetizing.




Uncharted Territory Pt. 02



Debi moaned and whimpered and writhed. But she was so "fired" up from their office activity and the anticipation of the evening to unfold that she was crying out in delight as her first orgasm overtook her. He kept his mouth pressed to her petals until he was certain she was finished, but she had to push him away because it left her too sensitive.

"Oh, my God, that was magnificent!" she bellowed. "I don't know if I'll last the evening."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know how much more of that delightful torture I'll be able to withstand."

"Oh, do you want to quit now, save yourself the misery?" he asked, jovially.

"Not on your bloody life."

"I didn't think so. But I am surprised. I thought you were maybe a girl who really, you know, could go the distance." Ron sat up, moving back over against the sofa to have a sip of wine.

"I can," Debi acknowledged. "But if you're implying that I sleep around, you're absolutely wrong."

"No, no, I didn't mean to imply that," Ron said quickly, hoping he hadn't offended her.

"I do love a good fuck, but finding a good guy to do it is rather difficult. I know I am attractive and I work hard to maintain my appearance. I don't mean that to sound conceited. It's just that I get hit on by a lot of blokes who want nothing but to get their rocks off. I want a bit more, so I am selective."

"And by more you mean?"

"Like what you just did," Debi noted, rolling onto her stomach and stretching her shapely frame, feet facing the fire. "I like to give and receive. Some blokes aren't so considerate. Is that what you thought I meant?"

"I wasn't sure," Ron answered honestly. "Some girls want a relationship."

"And most blokes don't." She looked square in the eye. "What about you?"

Ron shrugged. "Well, my divorce isn't even final yet, so I'm not necessarily looking to get into another relationship. But that's not to say that if the right girl comes along I would avoid letting it happen. I'm just taking things as they come."

"I quite agree. I'm not looking for one either, but if one happens, I won't complain." Debi studied him for a moment before asking, "Could I be your right girl?"

"Why? Do you want to be?" Ron threw back, stalling to formulate an answer.

"Well, I'm not asking so we can begin a relationship, mind you. I was just wondering if I was your type."

"Honestly, Debi, I'm not sure we know each other well enough. But so far, you've done nothing that's been a turn-off." That was honest. "I hope I haven't done anything to turn you off."

"Well, you've still got your clothes on," she said in a tantalizing tone. "I'm afraid if I don't see that magnificent monster soon I shall be left to simply enjoy the fire, which I must say is simply divine. Do come join me."

So as not to seem too eager, Ron removed his clothing casually. He was about to lay beside her, but decided to stoke the fire first. Turning from the new blaze, he took in the sight of her below him: her long frame stretched out on the comforter, her head resting in her folded arms, her very round ass standing like two gently rolling hills on the English countryside, legs spread enough to catch the glow and droplets of moisture escaping from her pussy, glistening from the firelight. He had a better idea.

He eased down on top of her sliding his cock between her legs, his legs on the outside of hers forcing her to close hers, sandwiching his rod between them. His upper abdomen rested on her ass cheeks, and leaning on his elbows, he shoveled his hands under her chest cupping a soft, creamy tit in each hand. Finally, he placed kisses all over her upper back and neck.

With a shiver, Debi commented, "That's the spirit. Bloody hell, that's a good position." And with that, she eased her hips up enough to tunnel her hand underneath to grab his cock and aim it at her ever soaking pussy. Naturally, it found its mark and slid right in.

They began a gentle rocking motion at a steady pace. Debi was right. This was a hell of a good position. The sensitive underside of his cock rubbed the upper part of her vagina heightening his pleasure. With his hands still cupping her tits, he grabbed each nipple with thumb and forefinger and lightly twisted them back and forth.

That elicited a sound, something between a moan and a sigh, that she kept up.

Ron then tried lifting up a bit directing his angle of penetration downward to rub against the upper wall of her vagina in an effort to hit the g-spot he'd read so much about. After a dozen or so strokes, she started to breath heavier and push down.

"My God," she stammered between breaths, "I feel like I'm going to piss on myself." Soon after, she started gushing fluid and came in a torrent, her body spasming beneath him. When her massive orgasm subsided, she could hardly speak. "I'm sorry," she gasped. "I can't believe I wet your comforter.

Ron smiled. "That wasn't urine. You just squirted."

Debi tried to lift herself onto her elbows, but she didn't have the strength. "I feel like wet spaghetti. What do you mean, I squirted. I've never done that."

"I was able to stimulate your g-spot," Ron casually explained.

"My g-spot?" she repeated, mystified. "You actually knew where it was?"

"About. I got lucky."

"The hell you say. I'm the one who got lucky!"

Ron eased his still hard cock out of her and rolled over beside her on his back. She tried to pull herself over to him, but it took all of her energy. She pressed her lips to his, but it was a weak kiss.

"God, I'm drained. That was the most incredible orgasm I've ever had. You make love like you invented it."

Ron chuckled as her arm went down to his crotch.

"Poor baby, you didn't come. Let me get my wind back and we'll see to it."

They relaxed for a few minutes with her resting half her chest on his, absent-mindedly playing with his nipple. "I have to say I was surprised when Chelsea mentioned that you were going through a divorce. There's been nothing in the office gossip."

"I haven't said much to anyone," Ron admitted.

"Well, if you don't mind my asking, is it because it's a bad one?"

"No, I really don't know why I haven't said more. I've seen in other divorce situations that people either think you're a shit for divorcing your wife or they feel sorry for you. I guess I just didn't want to go through either of those."

"No offense to your ex, but she must have been daft for letting you go. I mean, God, she's missing all this."

"No offense taken, and if by all this you mean the sex, she's not missing a thing."

"Well, then, lucky me."

"Don't just be polite. Tell me what you really think." Ron said it somewhat jokingly, but she took him seriously.

"I really think this has been the absolute best sex I've ever had. A girl could really get used to this." With her head resting on his chest, Debi turned it toward his wilting cock. She reached down and gently stroked, not in any effort to make him come, just to get him hard again. Accomplishing that in short order, she noted, "And you've got the best cock. There's nothing I wouldn't let you do with it."

"I'd be careful making a statement like that. You never know what kind of pervert I could turn out to be."

Debi giggled. "Oh, you are naughty, aren't you?" She shivered and glanced at the fireplace. "Be a dear and get the fire going again."

While Ron complied, throwing another log on the grate, Debi scooted around, laying on her right side, resting her head in her hand. The entire front of her body now faced the again brightly burning wood. He returned to her, laying behind her in the same position, spooning her. He extended his right arm under her neck and she moved her arm resting her head on his arm. His cock found a resting place in the crack of her ass.

"Mmmm. That feels nice." She pushed back against him as though she could get closer.

"Lady, if you get any closer you'll be behind be," Ron quipped, imitating Groucho Marx and one of his lines.

Debi couldn't help but giggle. "You really know how to charm a girl." She dug her left arm between them and repositioned his rod between her legs. It was straight enough and almost long enough to stick out the front of her. His hips couldn't help but thrust a bit and he could feel her moist vaginal lips riding his shaft.

That was all it took to get her aroused again and she lifted her left leg to feed his cock into her hungry pussy. But he had to scoot down some to get the right angle. In this position, he couldn't continue to spoon her, as his body was actually at a 45 degree angle to hers. She was ready, as evidenced by how easily he slid into her wet vagina, and he started pumping away. However, he couldn't get good traction so he maneuvered his trunk further toward 90 degrees and wove his legs in between hers.

"Oh, yeah, baby," Debi groaned.

Yet Ron was still not satisfied with the penetration, so he wiggled to 180 degrees, stretching his legs out so his feet were even with her head and her feet with his head. He then reached for her hands holding one in each of his, using them to push and pull. Her pussy sucked him all in the way to his pubic hair, their pubic bones touching, and he could feel the tip of his penis tapping her cervix.

"God, I've never had anyone up so far!" Debi cried. "This is incredible. It feels fantastic!" She rubbed her face against the bottom of his foot. He did the same.

Even Ron had to admit, having never used this position, that it was the most astounding sexual experience he had ever had. He slowed his jabbing to a very slow pace to enjoy the sensation of her vaginal wall rubbing every part of his cock. On every upward thrust she let out a soft "mmmmm." It almost felt as though they could stay in this posture indefinitely, but her breathing was quickening and his balls were tightening and . . .

"Oh, my God, I'm cumming again," she whimpered.

"So, am I. Do you want me to pull out?"

"Not on your life," she gasped. "I'm . . . I'm . . . it'll be . . . it'll be . . . okaaaaaaaaaay . . . She exploded with a concoction of indistinguishable sounds, letting go of his hands and hugging his leg, rubbing her face all over his foot. Her body tensed into one big knot and the resulting constraining of her pussy on his cock caused him to blow his most powerful load yet. He couldn't help emitting noises of the kind she was making. Both of their orgasms lasted much longer than either had previously undergone.

After several minutes of recuperation—even his cock remained hard afterward longer than usual—and their breathing returned closer to normal, Debi slid off of him and wormed around to drape half her body over his and kiss him passionately, but tenderly. If he hadn't been so physically spent, it might have aroused him—actually, it did; he just couldn't get the old pecker up. All he could really do was bask in the post-coital bliss with his eyes closed.

* * *

Ron opened his eyes a while later and was shocked by the intense light that caused him to squint. His first thought was the fireplace, and a quick glance told him the fire had burned out. Then his attention was captured by his patio door, in which bright sunlight filtered in. His next focus was on the clock on the mantle where all became startlingly clear. It was six a.m. His internal alarm had awakened him. They had fallen asleep.

Turning to his right, Debi was sprawled beside him, still out cold. Raising himself onto his elbow, Ron took a moment to study her. She was as beautiful as Jenna and Chelsea, and he would have been hard-pressed to pick one over the other. She was a bit taller than the others with bigger breasts, but there was nothing about any of them with which he could find fault.

Zeroing in on her left nipple, his mouth was magnetically drawn to it. He ran his tongue around the areola before sucking softly on the nipple. His intention was to gently awaken her, but he almost got lost in the enjoyment of what he was doing. When she finally stirred, it brought him back to reality and he removed his mouth from her breast to kiss her.

"Don't stop," she whispered, through a sleepy haze.

"Want some coffee?"

Coffee?" she frowned. "Why in the bloody hell would I want coffee?"

"Oh, I forgot, you Brits prefer tea."

"What in God's name are you talking about?" Debi was thoroughly confused.

Ron extended his arm toward the patio. "Good morning."

"What?" She squinted, then suddenly realized. "Oh, dear; oh, dear. We fell asleep." She started giggling. "I must have been totally dazzled last night. I've never fallen asleep and let a man stay over."

"Uh, you're in my apartment."

That caused her to laugh even more. "Now, I've positively never done that." Debi's laughter subsided as she stared deeply into his eyes. "I had a marvelous time."

"So did I."

"Did we say something last night about not really wanting relationships? I think I might like to reconsider."

"My new philosophy is to take things as they come; not rush anything."

"Does that mean we can get together again?"

"It does."

"Great. Than what say we grab a quick shower—strictly to wash, mind you, hard as that might be—and I'll wait while you get ready so you can run me 'round to my place so I can do the same."

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

Spectacular sex aside, it sure as hell was nice waking up with someone next to him, Ron thought as went about his daily duties. Difficult as it had been, he and Debi had managed to shower—not quite as strictly as she had suggested—with only touching (washing each other) and kissing. And believe it or not, they managed to arrive at work on time. That was one thing he missed about marriage: having someone next to you all night and in the morning.

He hadn't seen or talked to her all day, but he could only imagine what she and Chelsea had talked about. In fact, he was almost afraid to show his face in the executive suite.

Apart from all of that, his ego was fortified with the knowledge that he had satisfied yet another woman. The sexual ills of his marriage were beginning to fade from his memory.

Ron considered calling Debi to see if she wanted to get together again tonight, but as the afternoon wore on, he realized he'd had two active late nights in a row the last two days and that maybe he should go home and regroup. By quitting time, he was actually tired and decided that a quiet evening alone and to bed early was what he really needed, so he snuck out of the building's rear entrance.

He hadn't filled up his SUV since before the meeting last weekend, and with all the additional driving around this week, he needed to top off his tank. The part of town he now lived in was still new to him and he was still learning his way around, so he frequently used different gas stations just to better familiarize himself with the area. Unfortunately, it had started to rain, but he decided he still needed to stop.

With thoughts of pussy dancing in his head from all the wonderful sex he'd had lately, he was sort of daydreaming as he pumped his gas. The steady pitter-patter of rain on the metal roof of the station further lulled him to lose himself in his preoccupation. But that pleasantness was suddenly and harshly broken by the screeching sound of a woman screaming. The reason was clearly evident.

It appeared as though the fuel line nozzle was stuck in the locked position that it can be set to so a person can simply stand there and let the car be filled until the auto shut-off clicks. Apparently, her's had not done that. Gas was overflowing the filler neck of her vehicle so she had yanked the hose—not the nozzle—from her car and was now having to fight a writhing serpent that was spewing fuel all over the place and drenching her in particular, further preventing her from being able to grab the nozzle.

Thinking quickly, Ron ran to the side of the building and hit the emergency shut-off switch. It solved the problem, but it also discontinued the flow for everyone else. Unconcerned about that, he went to the woman to assist her with the now tame snake, taking it from her and replacing it. She had readily relinquished it, preferring to concentrate on her gas soaked clothes, which, Ron noticed as he turned back to her, had rendered her white blouse fairly transparent. Her big, round tits could be seen bulging out of her bra, which might have been a size small. He saw that she was not trim, but neither was she fat; buxom was probably more accurate. Her light blue pants were as wet as the rest of her and seemed snug against her shapely legs, but it could have just been the result of being sloshed.

Finally realizing that there was nothing she could do about her situation, she looked up. "Thank you for your help. I don't know what—" Her face showed her surprise. "Ron?"

He just as quickly made the connection. "Mary?"

"Oh, my. I don't believe it. How long has it been?"

Ron knew exactly how long it had been. Mary was the girl he had dated before meeting Dana, the only other woman—prior to Jenna—with whom he'd had sex. Her figure hadn't changed in all those years, and despite how he had earlier categorized her, she was still a very attractive woman, even with her wet blonde hair clinging to her head like a skull cap. "It's been a while. What are you doing in this neck of the woods?" If she still resided in the same place, her home was way on the outskirts of the other side of town, a good hour or more drive.

"Business. Calling on clients. Thank God I don't have any other appointments today. Except that I have a long drive home smelling like gasoline, not to mention what it will do to my car."

Without really thinking about it, Ron offered, "My apartment is only a couple of minutes away. You're welcome to come by and clean up." He stepped over to his vehicle, opened the hatch and pulled out an old blanket that he kept for contingencies. "You can sit on this. It might prevent some of the gas from seeping into your seats."

"What about Dana?" Mary asked with some concern.

The two women had a brief history. When Ron and Mary had stopped dating, they remained friends even after he started seeing Dana. They had some joint friends and often saw each other at parties. They had continued to flirt, causing Dana to quickly take a disliking to Mary. It ended with Dana and Mary having words, which was also the last time Ron saw his ex-girlfriend.

"We're in the process of divorce."

Showing no surprise and perhaps a hint of satisfaction, Mary accepted his offer.

* * *

Another positive result of his divorce was that Ron had become a very neat and tidy person. He despised clutter, deplored mess and was disgusted by dirt. He always picked up after himself, and so, he did not freak out when he had guests unexpectedly. That was why he had readily agreed to Debi's visit last night and why he had no hesitancy in allowing Mary over. He had even done a quick straightening up this morning while Debi was still getting ready. While Mary went into the bathroom, he even made it more spic-and-span. As a last minute thought, he started a fire. She had been drenched by both cold rain and gasoline, so he thought she might appreciate the warmth.

Before she got into the shower, he had her hand her clothes out to wash while offering her a terrycloth robe. Washing clothes was another household chore at which he had become quite adept.

When she stepped out nearly an hour later, all made up, her hair dry (he'd heard the blow dryer being used), the sight of her flooded him with memories of their time together. She hadn't changed and was still a very beautiful woman. She was the first woman he had known who was sexually adept and not afraid to display (some would have said flaunt) her femininity. She had been his first, but he had not been hers, yet she had been just so damn sexy, he hadn't cared. He'd thought about her often after Dana came along, even after he was married. There had even been times when he had imagined it was her he had been fucking instead of his wife.




Uncharted Territory Pt. 03



Author's Note: If you have not read Parts 1 and 2 yet, you might find it helpful to do so.

Redux

She ripped the door open after he knocked, yanked him in, and urgently said, "Come on, there's a fire!"

She tugged him down the hallway to the bedroom. Without skipping a beat, she ripped his belt open, shoved his pants and underwear to the floor, sucked his penis into her mouth, lathering it up and making certain it was good and hard—it was—then hiked up her short skirt, plopped down on her back on the bed with her ass right on the edge, lifted her legs and rested her ankles on his shoulders. "Quick. Hose me, I'm burning!"

Wrapping his arms around her thighs, his cock sniffed out the fervor of her wet pussy and found its way in with no assistance. He plowed into her with forceful strokes, amazed at the control and penetration he got from standing. She closed her feet in on his face; the scent was clean, fresh and evocative, and he couldn't help but rub his cheeks against her perfumed soles.

When he looked down, she had unbuttoned her shirt opening her milky breasts to his view. Keeping her firm thighs inside his arms, he reached down to fondle those beautiful globes, as well as attending to the hard nipples that stood atop like bullets embedded in her skin.

The sound of his balls slapping against her ass was soon drowned out by her moaning, and the frown of anticipation on her lovely face was a sign that she was close. In seconds, the intensity increased and her vaginal muscles tightened around his solid rod as a prelude to the spasms that followed. With gritted teeth, her orgasm swallowed her.

The mood was not lost on him and he continued thrusting to the slurping sounds of her now juicier pussy and promptly added to the liquid with a blast of steamy, hot semen. As he slowed his pumping, he could see the pearly white coating on his shaft.

Still not done, when he pulled out of her, she rotated her body around, rolled onto her chest and licked the froth from him, emitting short "mmmm's" in accompaniment. When he was soft and clean, she raised herself to a squatting position, pressed her sperm smeared lips to his, granting him a taste of his own come. Then she pulled away and smiled. "Hey, baby."

"Hello, Jenna," Ron greeted, licking a little bit of sticky from his lips.

"I thought you'd never get here."

"Weekend traffic out of town."

"I got a little excited with anticipation waiting for you," she explained.

"I gathered. But it was a nice welcome."

Jenna beamed. "Well, now that I can think clearly again, are you hungry? I'd like to take you to dinner."

"Yes, I'm hungry. But I don't want you to take me to dinner. I'll take you."

"I invited you up here. I want to take you to dinner. Why can't I? Would that be an offense to your masculine pride or something?"

"Or something."

Shaking her head in disbelief, Jenna said, "We can discuss who'll pay later. But I really am hungry, so let's go. What's your preference? I don't do Greek/Lebanese or French. My favorites are Mexican, Seafood, Steak or Italian."

"Any of the last three are fine. I was married to an Italian so that has actually become my favorite."

With arched eyebrows, she commented, "I would have thought you'd be tired of it, or at the very least, would be rebelling against it."

"I actually liked Italian before Dana and I still do."

"Okay. Did you two have a favorite little Italian place?"

Ron shook his head. "Dana and her family cooked their own Italian food, and in their minds, no restaurant measured up. In fact, they didn't care to eat out much at all."

"Everyone needs a little Italian place, someplace special to go to, someplace they can call their own. We'll have one. And I think I know just the place."

"Did you and Jerry have one?"

"Jerry didn't like to eat out either, didn't like to spend the money," Jenna said with a grimace.

The discussion carried them through the drive to Pantangelo's, a quaint little Sicilian style restaurant tucked out of the way in a quiet neighborhood. They ordered antipasto, Chicken Parmigiana for her, Veal Parmigiana for him. Over a bottle of Chianti in a basket, Jenna resumed.

"So, were you apprehensive about coming here?"

"Apprehensive? What do you mean?" Ron asked, though he thought sure he knew.

"Last weekend, you were concerned about being able to perform in bed. But by the time you dropped me off Sunday night, I felt as though we had solved your dilemma. I was just wondering if going a week without sex might have caused a relapse. Unless you haven't gone a week without it."

Caught off guard, Ron hesitated. "Well, that was about as subtle as an Indian uprising."

"So, you have been active during the week," Jenna said matter-of-factly, as though she knew for sure. But how could she?

"What makes you think that?" he asked as though he had something to hide—well, he sort of did. Although, he didn't know what made him think he had to hide it.

"That asshole ex-husband of mine had many faults, more than he had virtues. But he really knew how to read people. I guess some of it rubbed off. And I'm sorry if I am out of line; however, if you had not, you would have answered no right away. The fact that you didn't answer right away suggests that you have been active and you don't want me to know." She leaned closer and touched his hand tenderly in a gesture of comfort. "I have no right to know, and I wasn't trying to pry, I was just making conversation. If you did, it doesn't bother me. In fact, I would be proud to know that what we did last weekend maybe gave you the courage to do it with someone else."

Ron was dumbfounded and speechless.

"As I told you last weekend," Jenna went on, "even before I was married, I was sexually aware. If I had to pick one good thing about being married to Jerry, it's that he didn't make me feel ashamed that I enjoyed sex so much, and as a result, you'll learn, if you haven't already, that I'm as sexually open-minded as certainly any woman you'll probably ever meet, and probably most men."

Ron smirked, "You say the most extraordinary things."

"Don't you believe me?"

"The problem is, I do," he answered with a shake of his head.

"And why is that a problem?"

"It's not really—figure of speech. I just never know what to expect from you."

"Is that bad?"

"Not so far. But it does keep it lively."

"So, do you like surprises?"

"I have a feeling it doesn't really matter."

Jenna laughed. "That's good. And speaking of good, was she?"

"Was who?"

"Whomever you had sex with this week."

Ron had to chuckle at her unwavering pursuit of this subject. But it quickly occurred to him that one of his reasons in coming to spend the weekend with her was to see if she was as good as last weekend. So far, she was. But she had also opened herself up to scrutiny with her assurance of open-mindedness. By her invitation for him to spend the weekend with her it was apparent she still wanted an ongoing relationship. The foundation of any relationship is honesty, and if he was going to consider entering into a relationship with her they had to be honest with one another. So, maybe this was an opportunity to see if she was really that open-minded. It might also give him some insight into what a relationship with her might be like. "Which one?" It was his turn to surprise her. And he did.

"There was more than one?" Jenna clearly hadn't expected that. "Both."

"Which two?"

"There was more than two?"

"Three, actually."

"My God, did I underestimate you."

"What does that mean? I thought you said you were open-minded?"

"Oh, I am," Jenna answered positively. "I don't have a problem with that. You've exceeded my wildest expectations. That's all. I'm dying to know more."

So, he told her—in some detail.

When he finished, Jenna remarked, "Damn, I created a monster!"

"You wanted to know."

"I'm not complaining, Ron. Anything but. I wish I had been so lucky this week. For me it was just frozen dinners, TV and a well-placed finger. But it has made me horny as all hell."

Taking a few minutes to finish his meal, Ron also used the time to evaluate her response. It seemed as genuine as it could be. And he was impressed. "You were right; this is a great Italian restaurant."

"I'm glad you liked it. What do you want to do now?" she asked.

"I don't know. Did you have something in mind?"

Jenna shrugged. "We can go to a movie, although personally, I wouldn't want to waste our brief time together on a movie; or we can go to a club and dance, or just hang out, or we can just go back home and fuck our brains out."

"Somehow, I have a feeling that whatever else we do, we'll end up doing the latter eventually anyway."

"Good. Going to a club would be fun."

"I didn't mean . . . I thought you were so horny?"

Jenna merely flashed a curious smile.

* * *

Jenna managed to intercept the tab for dinner. Also, Ron should have realized it wasn't as simple as her putting her lust on hold until later. They made small talk about dancing and music while he drove them downtown to the club to which she wanted to take him. They both liked music and dancing, but neither of their spouses did so neither had done much of it. Jerry had liked to go to clubs, but mostly because it was a place to pick up other singles or couples.

When they pulled into the parking lot, Jenna directed Ron to park in a corner out of the way, ostensibly so his car might not get damaged by some drunken idiot. Even though he knew she was full of surprises, he hadn't yet trained himself to always expect them. So, by the time he exited his vehicle and walked around to gentlemanly open her door, she had her seatback all the way down and was laying with her skirt hiked up, panties removed (he thought sure he had seen her put some on) and her legs spread.

"I thought you might like to wet your whistle before we went inside and got thirsty from dancing," she said, her forefinger playing with her teeth teasingly.

Whatever else he thought about this, and he wasn't exactly certain what that was, the sight of her delicate pussy lips that just ever so daintily guarded the cave of pleasure, with a few drops of sweet nectar peeking out like dew on the morning grass, was just too inviting for anything else to matter. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was near, Ron's tongue zeroed in and delicately swiped the sugary droplets, then brushed her closed lips with the tip of his tongue without spreading them. A little shiver engulfed her body. He then went to work lapping her juices and sucking her clit. Wishing his tongue was longer, he darted it in as far as he could and swirled it around.

Jenna's breathing quickened. She moaned, and then apparently realizing where she was, she pursed her lips to mute what were undoubtedly some loud noises wanting to escape. As usual, after the orgasm subsided, she pushed his head away when she became too sensitive to take any more.

While she caught her breath, Ron reached into the side pocket of the door for some napkins. He always took extra when visiting fast food places to keep in the car for . . . well; he had found a new use. He dabbed his mouth and offered clean napkins to Jenna. She cleaned herself, and then slipped her panties back on.

"That ought to hold me for a little while," she remarked, sliding out of the SUV and fixing her clothes.

Ron could only roll his eyes, which thankfully, she did not see.

* * *

There was nothing remarkable about the club when they entered and headed toward the dance floor. It was big and dark with bars on either side wall and a stage in the middle toward the back with a DJ. To the club's credit, the music was good and loud, but not so much that two people had to shout at the top of their lungs to hear one another. They found a spot on the dance floor and began gyrating to the pulsing sounds. Ron observed the other dancers on the floor. No one was dressed up, but many women were dressed down: short skirts, loose tops, braless. Everyone just seemed to be carefree about everything.

After a couple of dances, Jenna was ready for some liquid libation. Instead of heading for one of the bars on either side of the dance floor, she led him to an out-of-the-way one behind the stage area, where it was still dark, but night quite as bad, and better still, not quite as loud. Most of the bar stools were taken, but they did find a booth across from the bar. She slid in one side and pulled him in beside her. A waitress in a skimpy black denim dress uniform, which was very short on the bottom and buttoned only to her navel up top revealing a very respectable set of boobs, appeared to take their order.

If that hadn't made Ron completely hard, a glance at some of the males and females on the bar stools finished the job. One woman was sitting facing away from the bar with her legs crossed, the high heel of her pump locked on the rung of the stool, her skirt having ridden up to her ass, sipping a martini. On the next stool, another woman was likewise sitting, except that her legs were spread around her male companion's waist and he appeared to be ever so slightly dry humping her. Then there were two women who had their hands all over each other and periodically leaned in for kisses.

With raised eyebrows, Ron remarked, "Interesting place."

"No inhibitions," Jenna explained, quoting the name of the club. "You leave them at the door." She then casually allowed her hand to fall to his lap where she petted his swollen rod through his pants. He quickly glanced at her, but she only returned a dreamy smile.

The waitress appeared with their drinks and he tried to squirm to cover up, but Jenna had wrapped her hand around his cock and squeezed to hold him in place. When the waitress stooped to serve their drinks, her breasts were clearly visible through the wide open top of her dress, pointed nipples and all. She spotted Jenna's hand, which gave a suggestion of Ron's size, then reached down and gave his prick a quick squeeze of her own. "Nice," she commented. The two women exchanged smiles of appreciation, then the waitress went on about her business.

It shouldn't really have been a surprise what kind of place this was, knowing Jenna. Ron had always thought he was sexually open-minded also, but that was when it was only in his mind. He had dreamed of coming to places like this in his marriage, and now that he was here and actually living that open-mindedness, he wasn't really certain how he felt about it. It was overwhelming, to be sure. Most of all, it was still hard to believe that this was the same woman with whom he served on the Board of the organization.

Jenna wrested his attention back by twisting toward him and draping her leg over his, She then pulled his head toward her and kissed him passionately. Now, it was her thigh rubbing his cock. When she heard the music change to something slow, she pulled her lips away and pushed him out of the booth, sticking a reserved sign on the edge of their table that was in a slot against the wall. "Let's dance again."

A slow song, he thought, and couldn't even imagine what was going to transpire on the dance floor. He wasn't disappointed, and for once, not surprised. People were basically fucking standing up with their clothes on. It couldn't have been more suggestive unless everyone had been naked. All groups were represented, male-female, female-female and male-male. A nearby couple had the man with his hand up the woman's shirt from the shirttail fondling her tit and nearly pushing it out the top of the three buttons that were unbuttoned. In another couple comprised of two women, they each had their hands down the back of each other's stretch waistband pants, and judging by the extended knuckle that protruded from one, it was a good guess she had some of her finger inserted in the other's asshole. Then there were two guys dancing, their hard-ons clearly outlining ridges in the front of their pants and making no secret of the fact that they were rubbing their cocks together. And then, of course, Jenna had to get in the act by grabbing Ron's ass and grinding her pussy against his lump.

With all this going on, Ron wasn't certain he was actually keeping time to the music, but it didn't seem to bother Jenna, nor anyone else. So, he just went with the flow. Interestingly enough, three slow songs in a row were played, one fading into the next, almost as though the DJ wanted to be sure everyone got off. Ron wasn't attempting to, and so, he didn't. But it was possible that Jenna did if her soft whimpers and sudden stops were any indication. He was beginning to think she was a nymphomaniac, and the notion would be something to consider in allowing a relationship to develop.

They returned to their booth and their half-consumed drinks. "Having fun?" she asked.

He shrugged. "It's not dull. That's for sure. Where did you find this place?"

"Jerry found it."

"Of course. And the two of you, no doubt, brought people home with you."

"A few times. That's what some people are looking for: to pick up or be picked up. If you were interested, the waitress would probably be willing."

"What makes you so sure?" Ron asked with some disbelief, visions of a threesome briefly flashing through his head. It was one of his sexual fantasies.

"She touched your cock, the look she and I exchanged," Jenna explained, knowingly. "Are you interested?"

"Are you?"

"I could be."

"What does that mean?"

"I want to make you happy. If you want to do a threesome, I'm game."

"That doesn't really answer the question."

"Would it make you feel better if I said I did?"

"I don't want you to say something just to make me feel better, or say what you think I want to hear."

"I'm sensing you do want to do a threesome," Jenna prophesied.

"I'll be honest and say it is a fantasy of mine," Ron admitted, "but to just bring home a stranger—I don't think I want it that way."

"You want to invite her for a drink?"

Ron gave Jenna a look of exasperation.

"Relax. I'm just kidding." She chuckled a little. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"Jenna, this is all just so new to me," he explained. "I don't want to seem like a prude or a novice, but just about everything we've done together is uncharted territory for me."

"I understand. I truly do. I'm just trying to help you loosen up. I guess I'm just not going about it the right way. Coming here was probably too much too soon." Her tone was regretful.

"I appreciate that. I really do. This is an interesting place. I knew that places like this existed, but I always thought they were in New York, Los Angeles, places like that."

"There are actually lots of clubs like this in towns like this. There's one in your city. But they all keep a low profile because there are still too many people who are uptight about sex. And if you think this place is wild, there are places—none of which I have been to—in the bigger cities like the ones you mentioned that are much wilder. Here, there's a lot of suggestiveness—"

"I would call some of what I've seen more than suggestive," Ron countered. "There was a couple at the bar before; she had her legs spread and he was dry humping her. Then there were a couple of women on the dance floor during that slow song and I'm sure one had her finger up the other's ass."

"That was suggestive. At these other clubs I'm talking about, the guy would have been really fucking the woman at the bar. She would have had her panties pulled to the side and he would have only been unzipped. And if you were there sitting next to them, you would see his naked cock penetrating her pussy. And the two women," Jenna nodded, "the one's pants would have been pulled below her cheeks and you would have known the other's finger was in her ass."




Uncharted Territory Pt. 03



"Okay. Your point is well-taken," Ron agreed. "And I have heard about some of those places, and hopefully, one day I'll be more willing to visit one."

Jenna beamed. "I certainly hope I'm the one you're there with."

"Why the fascination?"

"It's the eroticism, the stimulation, the arousal," she pointed out. "Those things are what make for great sex. Whether you have to come to a place like this to feel those things or you have a partner who can make you feel them, or do a threesome, that's what it takes. I mean this as no offense toward your marriage, but why was the sex no good? Because as you've pointed out, all she did was lay there. On the other hand, why was all the sex you had this week so good?"

He nodded his understanding. "So, why did we come here? Were we not properly arousing each other?"

"Au contraire. I just thought it might be an added inducement. But I think we've had enough." She downed the remainder of her drink.

The waitress was there instantly, as though waiting. She took a seat opposite them. "Mind if I sit for a minute?" She glanced at Jenna.

Ron detected a barely perceptible shake of Jenna's head and the waitress returned an equally unperceivable nod, as though the latter wanted to know if she was going to get lucky and the former told her she was not.

"Can I get you another round?"

"I think we're done for the evening," Jenna said.

"I doubt that," the waitress mumbled. "Please come back. I look forward to serving you again."

Somehow, Ron knew that there were unspoken volumes in her statement.

* * *

Jenna was unusually docile during the ride home. Ron called her attention to this.

She flashed a smile, but in the dim light of the vehicle, it seemed forced. "I felt as though I maybe have been coming on too strong."

"Well, I must say—"

"Oh, God, here it comes," she interjected worriedly.

"—that you did warn me that you were very sexually . . . motivated . . . and that you're impatient. I just keep forgetting to expect the unexpected."

"Thanks. That was very kind. But you're coming from a much less sexually aggressive background and I should be more sensitive."

"I wouldn't call it 'less sexually aggressive,'" Ron snickered. "I would say more sexually passive."

That elicited a brief giggle. "But it's true what I told you last weekend. You exude this, this . . . magnetism . . . that makes you so hard to resist. Believe me, as sexual a person as I admit to being, I've never thrown myself at a man like I have you."

"I don't think I exude anything," Ron disagreed.

"Oh, yeah? I think there are three other ladies who might differ."

Having no counterpoint for that, Ron let it go, though he still wouldn't concede to her assessment.

* * *

"I think I'm going to clean up a bit," Ron said when they arrived back at her apartment.

"That sounds good. I will too. Use the hall bathroom and I'll use mine."

Ron toyed with the idea of showering, but decided against it. He could hear water running in the other bathroom. He didn't think he took that long; however, when he entered her bedroom, Jenna was already in bed and a sight to behold. Totally nude—no real surprise there—she was laying on her stomach with her arms raised and her head turned toward the empty side of the bed—his, he surmised—resting in her hands. Only her legs up to her knees were covered. Above that, her toned thighs led to the two perfectly rounded globes of her ass cheeks which allowed a hint of her pussy. There was a dramatic slope to her lower back and on to her upper back with her flattened breasts peeping out under her arms.

Instant hard on.

With nude being the attire for bed, Ron quickly removed his clothes and approached the bed. She was so desirable he didn't know where to begin. Perhaps to cheer her up or show her a different side of him, and definitely to surprise her, with her legs together, he crawled over her with his arms and legs straddling her, stopping at those beautiful rear orbs. Ever so gently, he spread her cheeks, aiming his pointed tongue at her puckered anus. She let out a guttural moan of delight, which was his cue to continue.

He was in more uncharted territory with this, but it was something that, when he read about it in Literotica stories, it turned him on. He thought it might be one of those things that was arousing to read about but not so much to actually do. However, as he dipped his tongue into her asshole, he could feel his dick swell. 

Jenna felt it and murmured, "Oh yeah, baby." She spread her legs, allowing him access to her pussy also, but he couldn't get too much of it, so he turned her over and bent her legs back exposing both holes to him. He continued teasing her rear end, then started alternating between that and her snatch that was getting wetter by the second from the combination of her own secretion and his saliva. While he focused on her anus, he slipped his forefinger into her vagina, moving it back and forth and brushing against her clit. After a few minutes of this, amid her emission of a variety of wailing sounds, he switched tongue and finger. Then she let out a long, whimpering sigh.

Finally, he felt her body undulate, followed by a tightening around his tongue of her pussy muscles and the same on his finger in her anus, and she came in a torrent shouting a stream of "yes's."

Ron rolled off of her onto his back beside her. A minute later, Jenna rolled on top of him. They kissed. She then kissed a trail down his chest, detouring to his nipples, licking, nibbling, sucking, driving him wild; then resumed her path, cleaning his navel with her tongue—it tickled more than aroused—and on to his cock. She licked around the bulbous head, teasing and coating it with a light sheen of saliva, then lubricated his shaft before taking it all the way down her throat. Up and down she lovingly went for several strokes. Next, she focused on his scrotum, bathing each testicle as she had his rod. Finally, not to be outdone, she pushed his legs up, as he had hers, so she could access his asshole. 

At first, he was a little uncomfortable with a woman licking his anus, but the feeling passed quickly as pleasure overtook him. All the while, she was pumping his penis. She lifted her head a second only to spit in her hand to help it glide smoothly up and down his steel shaft. On her return to his bottom, she darted her tongue into his anus, and it was all he could do not to fire a load of sperm. As it was, there was a serious amount of pre-cum oozing out that she mixed with her saliva to assist with lubrication.

Ron wanted to hold out as long as he could because this trip into uncharted territory felt so incredible, but between the magic Jenna was working on him and the residual arousal from the club, he could not control the ropes of semen that burst so powerfully from his cock, the first hit him on his forehead and subsequent globs landed on his face and chest creating a trail down to the last few dribbling drops that puddled in his navel.

This orgasm had been so intense that he was breathing so hard he thought he might hyperventilate. But he quickly recovered when Jenna started working her way back up, slurping the few drops still lingering in his slit, then sensually lapping up all the cum on his abdomen and chest. When she reached the gob on his chin, instead of ingesting it, she moved it with her tongue up to his lips, and then kissed him passionately with it. The fact that he was tasting his own cum aside, the erotic nature of it all was enough to send a tingling down to his balls. Finally, she inhaled the spreading pool on his forehead.

Jenna did not move off of him, instead lifting her body enough to gaze into his eyes. There was lust, for sure, but something else that Ron couldn't identify. He also thought she might want to say something, yet she maintained her silence. He finally broke the quiet by saying, "That was unbelievable!"

"It was," she agreed, eagerly. She eased off to his side leaving her head resting on his shoulder, her thigh draped over his.

* * *

The pitter-patter of rain falling on . . . something . . . brought Ron to wakefulness. But the bright, diffused sunlight peeking through the blinds confused him. The sound of the dropping water, he gradually realized, was actually coming from the bathroom—the shower. He now noticed he was in bed alone. Jenna was already up.

Rising grudgingly, he padded into the bathroom and took a leak, noting that it was nearly noon. Jenna spotted him through the distortion of the water clouding the glass shower doors. "Good morning, sleepyhead."

"And to you." He frowned. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not long. It was hard not to pounce on your luscious body, but I decided to be kind and let you sleep. Sorry the shower woke you. I'm about finished, but if you want to step in, I'll leave the water running."

He did just that, but she remained a while longer. Sniffing her sexy body, his cock began to rise to attention.

"Now, that's what I like. A good morning salute," she commented, spying his organ levering up. She stepped back under the spray to allow the warm water to wet him. When he was at full staff, she couldn't help herself and instructed, "Turn around."

Without question, he complied, and a minute later, she pressed herself against his back, and the touch of her breasts and nipples against him sent a shiver down his spine. Her hands came around full of soap and grasped his cock, then started whacking him off. She supplemented the jerk-off by planting kisses on his wet back. He braced himself against the rear wall of the shower stall as her other hand fondled his balls. Reaching for the soap, she re-lathered her hands and went back to stroking with one while the other now soaped his ass crack. Her soapy middle finger entered his anus, twisting around. The combination of that and the wetness of their bodies pressed together provided additional stimulation and had him shooting in no time.

When his erection diminished, she slapped his ass and said, "All clean. Take your time. I'm getting out and making brunch."

* * *

After completing his morning—to use the term loosely—routine, Ron slipped on a pair of boxer shorts that he normally slept in to go into the kitchen to see what the plans were today in order to dress accordingly. Again he was surprised, but shouldn't have been, to see Jenna cooking topless with only her blue jean short skirt on, and he'd wager, nothing underneath. So, as it happened, he was not underdressed.

"Cooking casually, are we?"

She looked up, sliding an omelet from a pan to a plate. Another omelet had already been plated. "I love going around topless. It gives me such a feeling of freedom. Sit at the table." 

Difficult though it was with those perfect tits staring at him, Ron managed to eat the delicious food. "What's on the agenda for today?"

"I don't have anything planned. We could go to a movie, although personally I wouldn't want to waste our brief time together—"

He had to snicker at her use of the exact same statement from last night.

"—or we could go out to the lakefront, go shopping, sightseeing, or we could just be lazy and—"

"Stay here and fuck our brains out?" he finished for her.

She laughed at her predictability. "Yes, but I don't want to burn you out."

"I'm game for anything."

"You realize the implication of that statement?"

Realizing what he had said, he added, "Not when I made it."

"You wish to retract it?"

"I wish to clarify it."

"Proceed."

"I'm game for anything reasonable."

"Would you agree that 'reasonable' is somewhat subjective? That what I consider reasonable, you might not, and vice-versa?"

"Yes. So, what do you have in mind, he asked hesitantly?"

"I'm just messing with you. Let's go out to the lake. It's a beautiful day. I love this time of the year. The days are warm, evenings cool. Winter's not far away. We should take advantage of the nice weather while we can. Besides, it's a public place. Can't get into too much trouble there."

"Sounds . . . reasonable." But somehow, he doubted it.

* * *

The proof was in the fact that Jenna wore little more than while they were eating: that very light bra she had worn last weekend with a button up, short sleeve knit top that she didn't have to leave any buttons undone because it was already very low-cut, the first button being even with her nipples; a pair of deck shoes; panties, he had no idea, but he would let his bet stand that she was without. Ron wore denim trousers, not to be confused with jeans (which he found uncomfortable), a polo shirt and similar deck shoes. They also brought light jackets in case it got breezy.

They parked near the marina and stopped in a convenience store for a couple of soft drinks. On their way out, they passed an older gentleman coming in.

"Jenna!"

"Bret! How are you?

"It's so good to see you. We miss you so much in the neighborhood. But we're also glad you're not with that monster anymore."

"You! You have no idea how glad I am."

"This your new beau?"

Jenna glanced at Ron. "I hope so. Bret this is Ron. Ron, Bret."

The two men shook hands, but Bret's attention was on Jenna. "I hope he treats you better."

"Absolutely. Like night and day."

"That's just wonderful. So, what are you guys up to?"

"Just taking advantage of the wonderful weather," Jenna told him.

"Yes, so are we. Going to take the boat out. Weather's been so fickle; this might be our last chance before the colder temperatures are here to stay." Bret finally addressed Ron. "Do you like sailing, Ron?"

"I do. Used to have a small 20 footer."

"Great, because I just had an idea. Why don't the two of you join us? You might even be able to talk us into staying on board tonight. Brianna would love to see you."

"What do you have?" Ron asked.

"Forty-five foot Catalina."

"Nice."

"Gee, that's very nice," Jenna said hesitantly.

Both men sensed her apprehension.

"Well, I'm going to run in here and pick up a few things while you decide," Bret said. "See you back here shortly."

Bret stepped in and Jenna and Ron walked out.

"I'm sorry," Jenna offered.

"Why? Sounds like it might be fun."

"What?"

"Do you not want to?"

"I didn't think you would."

"It sounds reasonable. And I love sailing. Tell me about them."

Jenna shrugged. "Bret and Brianna were Jerry's and my next door neighbors."

"Were they one of the couples you—"

"Oh, no," Jenna said, shaking her head. "They can't stand Jerry. Oh, they were polite neighbors, but they really didn't like him. Jerry tried to convince them to join us once, but Brianna took offense and ever since they never had any use for him. They still got along well with me."

"Well, if they dislike Jerry they can't be all bad."

Jenna smiled.

"Anything else?"

"Bret is a few years older than Brianna. In fact, she's actually just a couple of years older than us. And . . . she's very attractive. It's been rumored that he can't satisfy her, but they're still together and seem very much in love, so that rumor seems nothing more than just that."

"So, what do you want to do?" Ron asked.

"It would be fun."

"Then I'm game."

"You realize the implication—"

"Yeah, yeah."

* * * 

To say the yacht was beautiful was a huge understatement for anyone who loved sailboats as did Ron. But it was instantly dwarfed by the stunning beauty that stepped up from below deck into the cockpit. She had the most exquisite features with golden hair that rested softly on her toned shoulders; a tight tank top that showed off a better than average set of boobs and short shorts that displayed a pair of well-honed, shapely legs.

"Down, boy," Jenna whispered as they approached the boat.

"Jenna! Oh, my God, I don't believe it!" The woman easily hopped over the railing onto the deck, bear-hugging Jenna.

They were the roughly same height so their tits pressed right into each other. Oh, to be between those, Ron thought. Interestingly, when they pulled apart, both were sporting hard nipples that had to stand an inch out. Why would embracing each other have that effect on them, he wondered.

"It's so good to see you again," the incredible-looking woman went on. "The neighborhood is just not the same without you; that asshole of an ex, yeah, but not you."

"I miss you, too," Jenna offered. "I'd like you to meet my friend, Ron, who will be able to greet you once he reels his tongue in. Ron, this is Brianna."

Ron shot her a look of annoyance.

"He doesn't have to do that. We could put it to good use elsewhere," Brianna said seductively, taking his hand in a manner that offered more than just greeting.

Suddenly, it was becoming clearer to Ron: attractive woman married to older man who maybe can't keep up with her, dressed to entice, flirtatious, and the rumor may be more than just that. He wondered if Jenna had told him everything. "Nice to meet you," Ron politely said.

She put her arm in his and Jenna's and walked them the few feet to the yacht. As they were climbing aboard, Bret popped out of the cabin, full of smiles, and said, "Well, if we're all here, let's cast off."

"Allow me," Ron offered, jumping back on the dock as Bret took his place behind the wheel and cranked the engine to maneuver out of the slip and harbor into open water. He had the craft in motion as soon as Ron was back on board.

"I couldn't believe it," Brianna was saying to Jenna as the two sat on bench seats on the port side of the cockpit. "I thought Bret was kidding when he said you and Ron were joining us."

"It was amazing running into him," Jenna said.

"What have you been doing? Still with that organization?"

"Working mostly, and yes, I'm still with the organization." Jenna glanced at Ron and winked. "That's where I know Ron from."

"How long have you two been seeing each other?"

Ron noticed that Brianna's nipples were still firm, but Jenna's had subsided. Interesting.

"Just a couple of weeks," Jenna responded for lack of a better way to describe it.

"Ladies," Bret broke in, "please go below and secure the cabin. We're almost in open water and we'll be raising the sails shortly."

The two women complied.

A few minutes later, Bret gave the order, "Let's go ahead and raise the sails." It could all be done from the cockpit, and with little instruction, Ron had them all trimmed in minutes. Once they were under full sail, Bret shut down the engine and steered out into the lake. The winds were mild, just enough to push them along at a leisurely pace. The light seas also made the cruise relaxing.

"Jenna's quite a girl," Bret commented, while the women were still below. "She deserves a lot better than that asshole Jerry. Did you know him?"

"No, just what she's told me."

Bret shook his head. "I'm not sure she really knew what he was fully capable of."

"Doesn't sound like I've missed anything by not knowing him."

"Not in the least," Bret agreed.

"If it's not too personal, may I ask why you feel about him as you do?" Ron tried to phrase it as delicately as possible.

"How well do you know Jenna?"

Ron frowned at the change of subject and was suddenly concerned where the question was going. "We've known each other about a year. Last weekend, we discovered we had more than a casual interest in each other, so we spent some time together, enjoyed each other, and she invited me up this weekend."

"Please don't think I'm being forward, but was some of this time together spent in bed?"

At first, Ron was going to tell him it was none of his business, but he just as quickly realized he might learn something about her that was important to know. "Yes."

"Man to man, was she good?"




Uncharted Territory Pt. 03



"Yes. Very good."

"Would you say eager?"

"That might be putting it mildly."

"Right. Sorry about that, but I needed to make sure you knew that about her before I answered your question."

Ron nodded.

"As you've probably noticed, there are a few years between my wife and I. Now, Brianna, also, has what we will call a healthy sexual appetite. One afternoon early on, Jerry and I were talking, as men do, admiring each other's wife. I made the mistake of confiding that I couldn't quite keep up with Brianna in bed. He indicated that he and Jenna occasionally enjoyed swinging." Bret paused for a reaction. Receiving none, he cautiously said, "I hope I'm not telling you anything you didn't already know."

"I was aware of that," Ron admitted in a non-committal way.

"Now, I will be honest with you and tell you that Brianna and I do allow another man into our bed from time to time so that she can be properly fulfilled. But she only does it when I am present, never behind my back. That's our agreement and I have no doubt she has abided by it. But we have never done any swinging." Bret chuckled. "I mean I can barely handle my own wife let alone trying another woman. So, I told Jerry that we were not interested. A few days later, he tried to move in on Brianna without my knowing. She refused and told me about it, so I confronted him. He apologized profusely, said he was just so swept up by her beauty he couldn't help himself, but that it wouldn't happen again. But it did. Several times. I threatened him with a restraining order and that seemed to finally end it."

Shaking his head in amazement, Ron said, "Jenna didn't mention any of that."

"Because she doesn't know. Before I made that threat, Brianna considered broaching the subject with Jenna, but she didn't want to risk their friendship. As it turned out, over time, my wife was able to determine that Jenna knew nothing of the matter."

"Well, with everything else I've heard about Jerry, this doesn't really surprise me," Ron noted.

"No, I would think not."

The men enjoyed the sound of the wind and the waves for a few minutes before the ladies returned with refreshments—topless. It took Ron a minute to pry his eyes from the magnificent set of breasts that hung on Brianna's chest; big and round, like melons. No way could they be real, but who cares? He made sure to look at Jenna's just as much. Even though they weren't as big, they were just as impressive. It occurred to him to glance around to make certain they were far enough from land—they were—nor were any other boats close enough, but it seemed he was the only one on board to be concerned.

"They love going topless," Bret remarked and shrugged. "Who am I to complain?"

"You'll get none out of me either," Ron concurred. 

The wind had picked up a small amount now that they were in open waters causing the yacht to lean starboard with it. The bare-breasted women took seats on either side of Ron on the port bench, Jenna to his left, Brianna to his right, putting her next to her husband at the helm.

"I'd offer you the wheel," Bret said to Ron, "but sandwiched between two gorgeous, topless women, if I were you, I wouldn't accept."

"If you insist I stay . . ." Ron had his leg crossed, and it would have been uncomfortable to move anyway, what with the hard on he had developed.

Realizing his dilemma, Jenna casually reached over, as she had done on a previous occasion, and adjusted his cock for him. Of course, Brianna's eyes captured the scene and went wide as she anticipated his size. She glanced at Jenna with a questioning look, who merely gestured at it as permission to examine it. Brianna turned to Bret, who tipped his head in a barely perceptible nod. His wife then caressed Ron's prick as though determining if a banana was ripe enough.

Impulsively, he stood. "I think I will take the helm, if the offer still stands."

Bret and Brianna each slid over. Ron opted to stand behind the wheel. He noted their course and the readings of the other gauges. As good as it felt to be on the open water under sail, he was having difficulty relaxing too much with what had just happened. That coupled with Bret's story about his wife, and what he had experienced with Jenna in the way of surprises, and it led him to wonder just how random was this excursion. He glanced at Jenna, who simply shrugged, as though she didn't know what was going on either. But she didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable. Of course, once again, he had allowed himself to be caught off guard.

"Jenna and I thought it would be fun to go to that little seafood restaurant on the other side of the lake," Brianna suggested to her husband.

"Splendid," Bret agreed. "Ron, keep your course due north."

As the women continued to chat, about what Ron could not quite hear over the slapping of the water against the hull and the snapping of the sails in the wind, Bret stood beside him. "Don't worry about what happened before. I'm sure there'll be much more to come. And just know that whatever happens, I'm okay with it."

"What else do you expect to happen?"

"Good God, man, are you that naive?"

"I don't think so, but I do come from a different background," Ron told him.

"Religion?"

"No, no. Just . . . and you're okay with it?"

"I believe I already explained that."

"Well, someday, I'll have to explain."

"Yes, perhaps you should."

"Can you take over? I've got to use the head."

As he descended the steps into the cabin, he signaled Jenna with his eyes to join him. He was momentarily distracted by the beautiful interior of the cabin: padded ceiling, teak deck, staterooms fore and aft, kitchenette at the foot of the steps, dinette and couch amidships on either side. How he would love to own such a yacht.

He was brought back to reality by Jenna putting her arms around him and pressing her naked tits against his back. "What's up? No pun intended."

"What's going on here?"

"I don't know. Seems you're a hit with Brianna and Bret."

"Did you know that they sometimes share their bed with another man?"

"I do now, although they don't actually share. Jerry had told me a long time ago he thought they did, but he didn't say how he knew. I never really believed him. But that's one of the things she and I were just talking about."

"Jerry knew because Bret as much as told him, and knowing that, did you know Jerry tried to get them to swing with you?"

"Yeah, I told you that at the store. They weren't interested."

"And that's all you know about that?"

"Yes, why? Is there more?"

"After Bret declined, Jerry continued to hit on Brianna. Bret had to threaten him with a restraining order."

"Oh, my God!" Jenna was genuinely appalled. "Although, I shouldn't really be surprised. He may have struck out with Brianna, but I have no doubt he probably cheated."

"You never mentioned that."

"Didn't I? Brianna would have bothered me, but some other woman I didn't know," she shrugged, "I would have hoped he liked her better and left me."

"You never cease to amaze me."

"Sorry, it's who I am."

"So, what happens now?"

"Well, Brianna is definitely attracted to you. She's asked enough questions. And don't get mad, but I gave her a brief explanation of your marriage."

"Oh, great," he said worriedly.

"Well, they don't swing. That means having me here is outside their box. So, I honestly don't know what will happen."

"Well, Bret said he was okay with whatever happens."

"How delicious," Jenna said with a mischievous grin. "They might be ready to explore new ground. What do you call that? Uncharted territory?"

"How do you feel about it?"

"You know me, Ron, I go with the flow. And if you're bothered by all of this, just don't let anything happen. Or do you want me to ask Bret to turn around and bring us back?"

"No, I don't want to embarrass you."

"Thanks, because I think it would." She held his face and looked in his eyes. "What are you worried about? You're a man with a tool most women would do anything for, you've had four different women this week, what's one more? Most guys would give their left nut to be in your position."

"I'm not most guys."

"No, you're not. And I'm glad; because you're better than most guys. And I don't just mean in the sack. You're very caring and eager to please your woman. So, it's strictly up to you whatever you want to let happen." Jenna gave him a very wet kiss just to let him know how much she . . . cared would probably be the better word at this juncture.

Ron went on to the head thinking Jenna was correct. With this newfound sexual self-awareness he was experiencing, why was all the things he used to dream of when he was married so scary now that he was having the opportunity to live them? Stop being such a wuss, he chided himself. You've got a set—use them!

* * *

The next leg, the two hours to the north shore, went more smoothly. Ron and Bret took turns at the helm, and on the latter's shift, the former was firmly planted on the bench seat between the two gorgeous women. On this stretch, Ron extended his arms on the railing behind the girls. He allowed his left hand to caress Jenna's bare shoulder and his fingers traced circles around it. Occasionally, he couldn't help his fingers dipping to her upper pectoral area.

When Brianna noticed this, she said to him, "I don't bite."

Certain of what she meant, Ron let his other hand perform the same canoodling on her shoulder. He glanced up at Bret in an intentionally casual manner and the other just smiled and nodded once. It was still somewhat bizarre to Ron, but he knew there was another whole world out there waiting for him. When his finger brushed down her chest, she leaned in closer to him as though encouraging him go further, so of course he did.

Meanwhile, Jenna placed her hand on his thigh and gently ran it up near his crotch, grazing his scrotum, then back down. She continued this motion. Not to be outdone, Brianna did likewise. It would be interesting to see who, if either, would go for his zipper first.

The answer wasn't long in coming as it was Brianna who wanted to see what was behind door number one. She had it down and fished out his cock almost in one motion. Ron slid to a slouching position to give her more room. She held it at the base, admiring it. "Wow," she purred. After a glance up to Jenna for approval, which, of course, was given, Brianna slid over and leaned down, slowly letting the rigid tool slide into her mouth. She went up and down about halfway a few times while cupping his balls, then concentrated on the head and stretched foreskin twisting her head from side to side. Ron put his arm around her lower back.

Jenna, contentedly looking on, said, "Are you going to be able to take this on? Is it too big?"

"It's perfect," Brianna cooed. "I can take it. Observe." She stood and pulled her pants down, then his and straddled his spread legs, facing forward as was he. Lowering herself down onto him, a long "Ooooooh," escaped her lips.

Jenna fondled her own tits, watching excitedly. Unable to contain herself, she slid onto the deck, and when Brianna went up too high and slipped out, Jenna grabbed Ron's cock and slipped it into her mouth.

Bret was watching eagerly, eyes wide. They clearly had never had another woman in the fray. His hands were rubbing his own cock.

With newfound lust at this new adventure, she slid herself over a bit to give Jenna room. Her left breast dragged along Ron's face, so he latched on to her nipple for a bit of sucking.

After a couple of minutes of this, Jenna stood up to remove her short skirt. Ron pulled Brianna back, turning her around to face him, while feeding his steel rod onto her hungry pussy. She moaned as she rode him up and down, then changed her motion to back and forth.

"Oh, yeah," Ron groaned. He felt Jenna's hand rubbing his thigh and fondling his balls. At first, he thought this might be unnerving with Bret looking on, but he seemed to be enjoying the action as much as anyone, so this was becoming the thrill Ron always knew a threesome would be. 

As if by telepathy, Brianna and Jenna exchanged looks to signal a change in position. Brianna eased off into a slumping position with her back against her husband's side and her left leg stretched on the seat and her right on the deck, her soaked pussy open for all to see. Jenna knelt on her right knee with her left leg bracing her on the deck. Ron assumed a similar position behind her, driving his cock wet with Brianna's juices into Jenna's waiting snatch. Somewhat to Ron's surprise, Jenna bent further forward and started licking Brianna's pussy.

Ron had never consciously thought about Jenna going down on a woman, but considering all the things she had claimed to do, he should have anticipated it. He decided he actually liked seeing it.

Bret, meanwhile, had his cock out and was stroking it. He gave Ron another nod and a wink when their eyes met.

Brianna had grabbed Jenna's hair and was playing with it lovingly. This three-way posture continued for several more minutes until Brianna uttered breathlessly, "Is it my turn yet?"

Jenna didn't even respond, and instead, stood, allowing Ron to knee-walk over to Brianna's wide open vagina that was leaking a combination of pussy juice and saliva. It sucked him in and he went to work on her while Jenna squatted down on Brianna's face. The former held on to Bret, helping stroke his cock while the latter's tongue darted into a pussy licking.

Ron felt such sexual fervor he didn't know how much longer he could hold out, particularly with the kissing sounds Brianna was making on Jenna's slit. But amazingly or not, it was Jenna who came first and strong on Brianna's tongue. When she got up, Ron switched to a sitting position, pulling Brianna up with him, his cock never leaving her juicy pussy.

Still charged up, Jenna played with Brianna's ass and Ron's balls a bit, then sat back against Bret to watch the action. He was still pulling on his dick.

Brianna reached over and rubbed Jenna's pussy and fingered her clit. Still a bit sensitive, Jenna didn't let it continue for long. Besides, she was ready for another taste of Ron's cock coated with Brianna's Juices. She squatted down between his legs, and again with the telepathic exchange, Brianna pulled out to allow Jenna to again suck Ron. Brianna scooted up enough for Ron to tongue her pussy awhile, until she decided she wanted some of what Jenna was having.

Two women sucking his cock was now the most incredible sexual experience he had ever had. Jenna went up and down his shaft sideways while Brianna mouthed his balls. A minute later, they switched, and finally, they both went sideways on his rod with their lips touching.

Of course, Ron had seen this performed in porno movies. It was certainly a turn on to watch, but nowhere near as stimulating as having it done. Now, he knew he wouldn't last much longer. "I'm close," he groaned.

Jenna pulled away. "I've already come. It's your turn."

Brianna lay down again, resting her head on Bret as before. Ron entered her and pumped away. His cries of ecstacy begat hers and soon they were screaming in two-part harmony.

"Where do you want me to come," Ron yelled through gritted teeth.

"Inside her!" Bret ordered.

Had he not been so far gone, that would have ended it for Ron, but a second later he blasted Brianna's pussy with one of the strongest ejaculations he could remember having. The pressure she felt caused her orgasm to occur and she pulled Ron to her, hugging him as he continued to pump away until he made sure she was finished, even though he was losing his erection.

Brianna was breathing so hard Ron feared she might faint, but gradually her intense climax slowed and they both started to relax.

That is, until Bret shouted out, "Sonofabitch!" and blew his load all over the wheel. He dropped to his seat, one hand still on the wheel, and finally said to the stares of the others, "Damn, that was good!"

Everyone had a good laugh, including Bret. Afterward, he noted, "We're nearly there. We should probably get cleaned up.

* * *

Dinner was a fine affair. The restaurant was a rustic and quaint little place on the waterfront, but very cozy. Jenna and Brianna had only the clothes they set sail in, so they captured the attention of many male eyes as they were shown to their table.

"Enjoy it," Bret whispered to Ron as they walked through the dining area.

"Excuse me?"

"Enjoy the fact that the eyes of so many men are glued to your woman and that it's you she's with."

"How many of them want more than to just watch?"

"The majority." Like the wizened older man, Bret philosophized, "But she's with you; she's yours. If she would rather be with one of them, she never was yours."

"Very enlightening."

They were only seated for a few minutes before the waiter, a very young man, appeared. "G-Good eveni-ning. My name is M-Mike. I'll be your s-server tonight. May I s-start you off with a c-cocktail, perhaps a b-bottle of wine?"

The men noticed that while he was stuttering his opening spiel, his eyes, also, were locked on the women.

"My God, boy, haven't you ever seen two beautiful women before?"

Mike screwed himself up and said, "No, sir, not like these."

All at the table laughed. Bret had been studying the wine list. "A bottle of La Crema Chardonnay."

After he walked off, Bret told the women, "Ladies, put those things away."

Both giggled and attempted to adjust their tops to display a little less tit.

"You like to toy with people, don't you?" Ron asked.

"He loves it," Brianna said.

"Guilty," Bret admitted with a chuckle.

"He claims it's a luxury of getting older," Brianna further explained.

Mike returned with the wine and went through the ritual of opening the bottle, pouring Bret a taste, and upon his approval, filled everyone's glass.

Bret held up his glass. "To the wolf in sheep's clothing."

The women snickered again as everyone lifted a glass. "See what I mean?" Brianna asked.

"Okay, the joke's on me," Ron said, good-naturedly.

"Not really," Bret said. "You seemed a little apprehensive at first, and then you rallied. And I have to admit, I've never stayed hard for so long."

That brought more laughter from the ladies. 

"Maybe it wasn't me. Maybe it was the inclusion of another woman."

"It was the combination. But don't sell yourself short. You're not like the other guys we've had."

"I can attest to that," Brianna chimed in.

Mike reappeared so they all took a minute to order.

When that was completed and the waiter was gone, Ron asked, "So, if I'm not getting too personal—"

"Son," Bret interrupted, "You've all swapped spit and other body fluids; can't get any more personal than that."

All Brianna and Jenna were doing so far was various forms of laughing.

Ron went on. "Okay, well, I was wondering what your story was. Medication?"

"Oh, you mean, why do we bring another man into our marriage? Well, I'm 25 years older than Brianna, and yes, I have medical issues. One is not being able to last long—although, after today's action, I'm thinking I might just need more stimulation. Anyway, my condition is such that my doctor won't even prescribe Viagra." Bret reached for his wife's hand. A look of genuine affection, like none Ron had ever seen, came across her face. "It's not fair to Brianna, who as you've witnessed, is as beautiful as they come, and who has a voracious sexual appetite."

"But there's more," Ron said, sensing there was.

Bret and Brianna exchanged a look that transmitted some approval between them to elaborate. "He's a voyeur," Brianna whispered. "He really likes to watch. More, perhaps, than he likes to participate."

The expression on Bret's face was not remorse or regret, not embarrassment; just one of those "it is what it is" looks. Until the older man explained, "Jenna told us about your marriage, so we understood your apprehension. But, you see, my first marriage was not unlike yours. In fact, it might have been worse. She never wanted to have sex. Talk about frustrated. Porno movies worked for a while, but they became so phony, so unreal.




Uncharted Territory Pt. 04



For a complete understanding of this series, please read the previous parts first.

Part IV: Confession

It started raining just as he pulled into the parking lot, and for an instant, he considered blowing off this hasty decision to stop. But other considerations took over, and so, he quickly exited his vehicle and ran around from the rear of the building to the front, cursing the place for not having a back entrance since that was where the owner had chosen to put the parking lot. As the precipitation came down harder, he kept his head pointed down to at least keep his face dry while the rest of him was getting soaked. Just as he finally reached the entrance, he looked up in time to collide with another person about to enter. They knocked heads, to be sure, but not so forcefully as to send either to the ground. They did regard one another coldly for a moment, but the now driving rain cooled any hostility, and Ron quickly grabbed for the door, yanked it open and allowed the woman to enter first.

In the lobby, both stepped aside and shook off the water. Each was wearing a light overcoat that seemed to have repelled the rain, and aside from their heads and feet, neither was particularly drenched.

"Table for two?" the hostess said, assuming they were together.

Ron looked up and around realizing the origin of her assumption. "Uh, no. No, no, we're not together."

"I just need a table for one," the woman said.

"Hmmm," the hostess mouthed in a tone of perplexity. "Well, I have only one table available . . ." She just trailed off.

"That's okay, she can have it," Ron offered, very gentlemanly. "I'll just grab a seat at the bar."

"I'm sorry, sir, the bar is full."

"Then I guess I'll have to wait."

"It could be some time," the hostess cautioned.

"It's alright. I have no where to be."

"That sounds lonely," the woman commented.

"Excuse Me?" Ron asked, confused.

"So, you're not meeting someone?" the woman went on.

With a frown of incomprehension, Ron replied, "No."

"Are you here hoping to get lucky?"

Now with raised eyebrows at the unusual questions, Ron answered, "No. But pardon me for asking, are you?"

She smiled. It was becoming—and alluring. "No. But as long as you're not, I would be willing to share the table."

Ron's purpose in coming to this establishment—having no idea it was so popular—was to go someplace he could be alone that was not his apartment. It was also the reason he did not visit the usual lounge that many of the company's other employee's frequented. When he had arrived home yesterday from the weekend with Jenna, he had lost himself in his normal Sunday chores, albeit later than usual: grocery shopping, washing clothes and general housekeeping. But with Monday and the start of the work week—and a slow start at that—the concerns about entering into a relationship with Jenna resurfaced and nagged him all day. So, he thought a visit to a different lounge would either help him forget those concerns, or at least, help put them into perspective. Now, that did not seem quite viable.

However, Ron quickly noticed—and he hoped he was not too obvious—that, without her coat, this woman, who was probably close to his age, was quite attractive in her . . . brown, he guessed in the dim light . . . button-up-the-front, low cut dress revealing a nice cleavage with fair-sized breasts and equally decent legs. Perhaps being alone was not what he needed.

"That's very nice of you," he said, again very gentlemanly. "But only if you let me buy the drinks."

"Well, maybe one," she said, then turned to the hostess, who had been standing by patiently. "We're ready to be seated."

"So, I gathered."





Uncharted Territory Pt. 04



Easing forward, Ron guided his missile to her waiting target, sliding it in lightly about halfway, then out, then all the way back in. He started thrusting at a moderate pace. She hooked her right leg around his left thigh just under his ass cheek. 

A musical "Ungh, ungh, ungh," followed each push forward, laced with an "oh, yeah," intermittently. She drew her legs further up to allow better penetration and put her hands on his waist on either side for guidance. "Oh, yeah," Mia uttered, an expression of complete bliss adorning her face, "give it to me good." Even though he was not fucking her intensely, the pillowy softness of the bed caused her breasts to jerk up and down. She threw her head back and repeated, "Oh, yeah, give it to me," followed by continuous moaning.

Deciding it was time for a switch, Ron pulled out completely, causing Mia to frown. He smiled, tilted her slightly to the right, lifted her left leg until it was extended straight up, reinserted himself, pulled her leg against his abdomen and shoulder, then went back to work.

"Oh, yeah," Mia exclaimed. "That's it!"

From this position, he reached down and fondled her left breast, massaging it and toying with her nipple.

"Umhmmmm!"

Sensing she was close, Ron pulled back, stopped, gave a quick jab, then repeated it a few times. It was met with approval, and the timbre of her "oh, yeah's" coupled with ragged breathing prompted him to slow down for a gentle finish. Allowing her head to fall back, she came, totally relaxed, her body nearly limp. He stroked a few more times until he was certain she was finished, then eased himself back, but not completely out. She put her leg back down so that she was mostly on her right side with her legs together and his cock still impaled in her steamy pussy. "Don't stop," she murmured.

He liked this position they had ended up in, so he placed his hands on her left hip and thigh, and not knowing if she wanted to come again or was being polite to allow him his climax, or both, he resumed. With her lower body twisted to her right, she lifted her upper body up onto her right elbow and twisted it left so she could watch him continue to fuck her.

"I want to ride that," Mia said after a while.

Taking that to mean she wanted to be on top, Ron pulled out and fell onto his back with his legs slightly spread. Mia rotated her body over his, and to his surprise, she faced his feet not his head. Well, if that was the way she wanted it. With his hand, he pointed his dick toward her hole while she reached back, took hold of it and fed it in. It had a nice feel. She started bouncing, and when she had a good rhythm going, she leaned forward on to her hands. His cock was pointed down toward his legs as she rocked back and forth. This was very nice indeed.

In fact, it was so nice, he just laid back spread eagle and let her do the work. "Oh, wow, that's good."

"You like that?" Mia asked in a sexy tone.

"Oh, yeah."

"Enough to come?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Enough to come now?"

"Oh, yeah. And here I come."

Mia quickly pulled out, but continued to rub her spread ass crack up and down his cock lubricating the groove with her pussy juice and the pre-come that coated his rod. He shot his semen on her back and it rolled down between her ass cheeks further greasing the furrow. As hers had been, Ron enjoyed a slow, easy, satisfying climax.

When he was flaccid again, Mia leaned toward him, laying her back on his chest and abdomen and smeared his sperm around her back and onto his belly. The she rolled to her right off of him onto her front facing him. "You are good."

"Don't sell yourself short," Ron said, returning the compliment.

"So, was that wild?"

"No, not at all. Would you call it wild?"

"No. Was it passive?"

"No, it was not. Was it for you?"

"Absolutely not. But you did enjoy it?"

"Couldn't you tell?"

"Just making sure." Mia became clinical. "Would this kind of sex on a regular basis become boring?"

"I'll let you know after we've done it a few dozen more times," he grinned, insinuating that he would be willing to meet her again.

"Not likely." She got out of bed, went into the bathroom and reappeared with a towel, wiping her pussy and back. "But now you have a frame of reference, something to go home and think about." She started dressing.

"That's it? Where are you going?"

"Home. Tomorrow's a work day."

"But it's still early."

"Not for me."

Mia headed for the door.

"No offense, but are you really a psychologist?"

She reached into her purse, walked back to the bed and handed him her business card. He read the Ph.D. after her name. There was also a state license number. "Okay. What if I need more counseling?"

"Call me if you want to talk."

"Just talk?"

"Just talk." Then she departed.





Uncharted Territory Pt. 04



"Ah. The little lady from the organization?"

"Yes," Ron answered hesitantly.

"So, it's getting serious?"

"So, it seems."

By now, Chelsea was returning with the plates and food and another glass of wine for Debi in time to hear the latter's response.

"I had a feeling about you two," Debi remarked with no emotion in her voice, certainly no sadness.

"Oh, why is that?" Ron asked, wanting to make certain she accepted it.

"You were just so full of life after your first weekend with her." Debi frowned as she accepted the glass from Chelsea and took a sip. "There is one thing, though, that puzzles me."

"What?"

"Why are you here fucking Chelse? No offense, dear," Debi said to her co-worker, "but I didn't think you had it in you."

"Does it bother you?" Chelsea wanted to know.

"Not as long as I can play too."

"You can play," Chelsea consented.

"But seriously," Debi went on, "if you're becoming serious with this other woman, Ron . . ."

Chelsea spoke up. "You know Ron and I have worked for the company for quite a few years, and in that time, we've become close, confidential friends—"

"Yes, I would say this qualifies as close," Debi commented.

"What I mean is that, like you and I, he and I have confided in one another. He was telling me about his two weekends with Jenna and, well . . . it—"

"Made you horny?" Debi said for her.

"You could say that."

"So, this was really just . . . relief?"

"That's a very apt description," Chelsea agreed. "I'm starved. Let's eat," she added to change the subject.





Uncharted Territory Pt. 05



For a complete understanding of this series, please read all other sections first.

Part V: Finality

No matter how well one prepared for an occurrence or an event, particularly a potentially adverse one, not to mention in unfamiliar surroundings, no amount of planning ever was sufficient.

As Ron entered the hallowed halls of justice, he instantly realized he had never been inside a real courtroom. Of course, he had watched numerous legal dramas on television and at the movies. But somehow, this step into uncharted territory with its cold marble floors, stately columns, dark wood paneling and towering judge's bench all presented a frightening sense of impending evil or misfortune.

And then, if that wasn't bad enough, to have to sit across the room from Dana with her perennially sad expression, was a form of torture no one should be required to endure. If only this would end soon.

But it did not. The docket was overloaded to begin with, an attempt by the judge to hear as many cases as possible in light of his impending medical issues, and then there were the cases ahead of Ron that just seemed to drag on and on. Try though he did to ignore it, the idle time acted as a catalyst to stir his memory into reliving the years with Dana.

Ron had been friends with her brother, Jim, and they'd all hung out together. After he'd broken it off with Mary, Dana had actually been a comfort to him, and before he knew it, they were dating, which they did for several months. A year or so after that, they were married. Dana had not been then, nor was she still not bad looking—not on par with Jenna, Debi or Mary—but still an eye catcher. They'd had enough fun during their dating years that the lack of sex had not been an issue. Even in the early years of their marriage he tolerated it under the guise of her getting used to it. But she never did.

He convinced himself that that was his lot in life and concentrated on enjoying all the other good things about her; such as her cooking. Throughout all those years, the one item about her that he took comfort in was the fact that he knew she really loved him, even if she rarely said it aloud. That was just part of her upbringing. Her family wasn't the emotional, expressive type. Her brother, Jim, had often joked that the only three times he could be certain his parents had ever had sex was to conceive him and his two sisters.

Unfortunately, the true love, good cooking and other small endearments were not enough. They had no real friends except the ones he still had from college, the majority of whom were female, which didn't sit well with Dana. She would allow him to drag her to their parties (which is where she met Mary and later had it out with her for still having feelings for Ron), but she didn't enjoy them. Nor was she interested in making any friends; she enjoyed spending time with her family and considered her mother and sister as her best friends. Fortunately, Ron was friends with Jim, so that made her family gatherings a little less sufferable.

The beginning of the end was when he became involved with the organization through another friend, a woman. Ron liked women and their company probably more than he did men. The fact that the organization had more women volunteers than men only made it more appealing to him. As time went on, not only did he enjoy the work he did for the organization more and more, he also savored the friendships he developed with other volunteers, the women particularly. Eventually, he found that he preferred doing work for the organization more than spending time at home, and so, he frequently volunteered to attend meetings and conferences above and beyond what was required.

On one occasion, a conference was held at a swank hotel in another city. Dana wanted to come with him, not to attend the conference, but just as a get away. In an attempt to dissuade her without being obvious, he told her that he would be tied up in meetings with little time to spend with her. But she came anyway, even though he had to be there Friday morning and she would have to come by herself when she got off work Friday afternoon.

The hotel room they were assigned was on the 30th floor, and while it offered a fabulous view of the city, it took a long time just to wait for the elevator. One of his female friends wanted to attend a workshop in the afternoon, but her room was not yet available for check in, so Ron offered to allow her to stow a dress on a hanger in his room until hers was ready. 

Naturally, Dana checked in while Ron was in a meeting and found the garment spread out on the bed. Ron appeared a few minutes later and explained. Then the woman called to see if she could collect the dress and Ron said he would meet her at the elevator so she wouldn't have to wait.

When Ron returned to the room a few minutes later, Dana was fuming. Regardless how hard he tried, he couldn't convince her that nothing was going on with the woman, that it was exactly as he said it was, and that he had never cheated on her.

Things were never the same after that weekend. Living in the aftermath, Ron came to the realization that he and Dana had grown apart. He did the right thing and attempted to work it out, but among their other traits, Dana and her family were unforgiving. Ron even considered resigning from the organization; however, all indications were that it was too late for that. In one final effort, he attempted to convince Jim, but in their clan, blood was positively thicker than water.

Ron found his apartment a week later, moved out and filed for divorce. Dana was not far behind. The house went on the market and sold fairly quickly.

The first several months of living alone were hell for him, and it was only through continued talks with Chelsea that he gradually adapted.

Then along came Jenna, and in the last couple of weeks, he hadn't had time to be lonely.

But now, seeing Dana again for the first time in months, even with her sad face, sentimentality kicked in. There had been many good times with her. Had he been too selfish? As much as he enjoyed the organization, was it worth his marriage?

His cell phone vibrated, jarring him from this tormenting reverie. It was a text message from Chelsea. How's it going? she wrote. They long ago agreed never to use instant messaging slang.

Still waiting, he typed back.

How is it seeing her again?

Not easy . . . makes me wonder.

You know you're doing the right thing! It was never a question with Chelsea.

Not sure that makes me feel any better.

Do I need to come down there and slap some sense into you?

Ron chuckled.  No.

Be happy. You're about to start a new relationship.

New development. Had dinner with Mary Wednesday.

She still in the running?

Yes, but there's more.

We'll get plastered tonight and you can tell me about it.

Don't know if I'll feel up to it.

A tap on his arm brought Ron back to the harsh reality of the courtroom. "We're next," Tim advised.

"Okay." He checked his watch. Fucking 2:00 p.m.

I'm up. Gotta go.

Leave it to me. You'll feel up to it. Good luck.

* * *

No matter how adverse one anticipated a situation to be, even if the nature of the situation was inherently untoward, normally, after all was said and done, it just was not that bad.

As Ron departed the courthouse, that was the realization to which his attorney attempted to bring him, even in light of the fact that Dana's attorney, at the last minute, sprang on them a charge of adultery. Ron had been horrified and vehemently denied that he had cheated on his wife during their marriage. But they had photos of him and Jenna at the Italian restaurant, at the club, at her apartment, and kissing Brianna goodbye at the marina. Ron argued that these were taken after he and his wife had split up and were no longer living together. However, the judge pointed out that until he signed the divorce decree, Ron and Dana were still legally married. The judge also admonished Dana's attorney for such a cheap shot. But that did not prevent her from filing a motion for divorce on grounds of adultery.

The judge allowed Ron and his attorney to discuss the matter for a few minutes, and the lawyer tried to convince his client that such a charge meant nothing anymore. Sure it would be in the public record and in the final divorce decree, but in the grand scheme, nothing would come of it. Conversely, if Ron chose to fight it, which Tim was more than willing to do, they would be dragging out the divorce for several more weeks. Tim's advice was to just go along with it. It just was not that bad.

Ron finally agreed and everything was finalized.

Now outside in the fresh, crisp, fall air, Ron came to the realization that Tim was correct: it just was not that bad. Particularly because, now, he was free, could do what he wanted with whomever—or with however many whomevers—he wanted.

That is, until Dana and her attorney crossed paths with Ron and Tim. There were a few awkward moments.

Then Ron felt he should say something. Extending his hand, Ron said, sincerely, "Dana, I wish you nothing but the best. I hope we can remain friends."

But her face took on an expression of complete and utter disdain and scorn. "You cheating bastard, I have nothing to say to you. Get out of my face." And with that, she scurried off with her attorney in tow.

And in an instant, it got just that bad.

Tim attempted to sooth Ron by telling him it was just her anger of the moment and that it would pass, but Ron just held up his hand to shut up the attorney.

"I'll call you," Ron said and walked off.

* * *

The vibrating cell phone snapped Ron back to reality. He realized he had not taken it off silent. Glancing around outside the windows of his SUV, he discovered he had no idea where he was. Obviously, he had been riding around preoccupied with the display of hatred Dana had shown. He had always prided himself on liking everyone—even people he had no use for—and being liked by everyone. But this was a trip into the dark side of uncharted territory—and it hurt. It hurt deeply.

Switching his phone off of silent, Ron read the text message from Chelsea.

Anywhere near finished?

Ron had to pull over to text her back. Yes.

And . . .

Not good.

Meet me.

Not in the mood.

Then I'll be at your place waiting . . .

Shit! She wasn't going to let this go, Ron thought in exasperation. He really wanted to be alone, but he didn't want to have to drive around to do so. He could get a hotel room. However, Chelsea would just continue to text him; or now that she knew he was out of court she'd probably start calling. Of course, he could simply turn off his phone. Aw, hell, he might as well just go home and get it over with. Maybe he could convince her he was okay and she would go away and leave him alone. Although, that was not likely with the thoughtless responses he had texted her.

Ron cranked up his GPS, set it to take him home, and off he went.

* * *

No matter what expectations Ron had when he arrived at his apartment, of one thing he was certain: whatever was in store for him would not be what he expected.

He put his ear to the door before inserting his key, but heard nothing. Well, of course, Chelsea would not be here. How would she have gotten in? He didn't notice anyone sitting in a car in the parking lot.

Still, he unlocked the door with trepidation.

No one was in his field of view—until he closed the door. There, standing behind it not only was Chelsea—he had to blink a couple of times to make certain his eyes weren't deceiving him—but also Jenna and Mary. And if that wasn't enough, they were all dressed in very sexy negligees of very similar styles; nothing see-through, but low-cut to show enough of each woman's breasts and cleavage, mid-thigh length, but in colors to suit each lady: coral for Jenna, fire engine red for Mary, and royal blue for Chelsea. A myriad of thoughts flooded his already overtaxed brain. Who had arranged this? How had they gotten in? How long had they been here? Why were they so dressed? And potentially the most frightening question of all: what had they discussed and how had they gotten along?

Before he knew what was happening, Chelsea was placing a cold beer in his hand, Jenna was removing his coat and Mary undoing his tie. Still stunned, he allowed them to lead him to the couch where he sat down. Jenna and Mary sat on either side, Chelsea on the love seat. Mary finished removing his tie while Jenna unbuttoned the top two on his shirt.

"Tell us . . . when you're ready," Chelsea urged, albeit softly.

In a daze, but uncertain whether it was due to the miserable day or the three beautiful women waiting for him, Ron glanced at Jenna with much of her medium sized tits exposed, her nipples standing out against the nylon material, the hem of her nightie high on her thighs; and then over to Chelsea, her breasts a little bigger but with an equal amount revealed, her nipples also pushing against her nightgown, as much of her legs available to his view; and then to Mary, her large globes and nipples straining against her negligee nearly revealing her areolas, not the mention her beefy thighs . . . it was clear why they were doing this: to take his mind off of the divorce. But was he really in the mood for it?

"Dana's lawyer pulled a last minute stunt and had the reason changed to adultery. They had pictures of Jenna and I from last weekend. So now, I am divorced on grounds of adultery—"

"So's mine," Mary interrupted. "It's no big deal, Ron."

"Mine, too," Jenna added. "She's right. It doesn't really mean anything."

"Yours?" Ron repeated, turning to Jenna in amazement. "But yours was consensual."

"Yes, well, Jerry was under this mistaken impression that it would be damaging," she laughed, "like I would have to wear a scarlet letter or something."

Mary giggled at that. "For some people, it's like a little victory where there's nothing to be won. And unless you tell people, no one will even know."

"It'll be printed in the newspaper," Ron said, dejectedly.

"Way in the back in print so small no one can hardly read it," Mary countered.

"It's a matter of public record."

"How many people do you know that go searching through county records to see who's got a charge of adultery?" Mary asked.

"Besides," Chelsea chimed in, "it doesn't mean a thing to the people who know you and care about you, like the three of us."

"They're right," Jenna agreed.

With a heavy sigh, Ron said, "Okay."

But Chelsea could tell something by the tone of his voice. "There's more. What is it?"

Reluctantly, Ron told them about Dana's parting words.

"That sounds almost exactly like what I told Jerry when our divorce was final a couple of weeks ago," Jenna informed them.

"And what I told my ex a couple of years ago," Mary noted. "And look, we ran into each other last weekend at the mall, had a civil discussion, and now he wants to get back together."

"I just wanted us to stay friends," Ron said.

"Wait until the dust settles," Chelsea recommended.

Ron had been sipping his beer throughout, and now, he drained the bottle. Chelsea immediately collected it and fetched him another, then brought glasses of wine for the ladies and her.

"What are you trying to get me drunk?" he asked.

"If that's what it takes," Chelsea said.

"What the hell's going on here, anyway?" Ron wanted to know, lifting the hem of Jenna's negligee and letting it fall, to substantiate his question.

"We just wanted to make you feel comfortable," Jenna answered.

"And wanted," Mary added.

"You set this up?" he asked Chelsea.

"I did," she admitted. "To ease your mind."

He nodded. "To what end?"

"To whatever end you want," Mary filled in.

"And however you want it," Jenna concurred.

Ron mustered a smirk and asked, "Do you realize the implication of that offer?" It was a reference to a conversation they'd had a couple of weeks ago before the first time they had fucked.

Jenna grinned, "Do you realize the offer that has been implied?" It was the same answer she had given.

But then, he became serious. "I do. But here I am with three beautiful, nearly naked women and I don't even have an erection to show for it."

Sensing that there was some hidden meaning to that exchange, Mary jumped in, "Oh, I bet it's around here somewhere. We just need to find it. Don't you agree, Jenna?"

Seeing what she was about, Jenna answered, "Absolutely. Where do you think we should look?"

"Well, we should start in the most obvious place." As she was saying this Mary's hands were sliding down Ron's zipper.

Jenna didn't waste a second attending to his belt.

Ron glanced over at Chelsea, who just seemed to be enjoying the show, if her hard nipples were any clue. He bet if she spread her legs he'd find a very wet pussy. She merely smiled at him, winked and nodded. It must have taken a massive amount of convincing to get Mary and Jenna together, all to help him get through the remainder of the day. Perhaps it was time for him to cease wallowing in his own self-pity and show some appreciation.

Glancing back down to the action, Mary had slid off the sofa and dropped to her knees to pull his trousers and jockeys off—having first removed his shoes and socks—while Jenna was handling his shirt. Of course, he had to assist by lifting his ass for Mary and leaning forward for Jenna. In no time, they had him undressed.

"Wow!" Mary exclaimed. "It's not often I get to play with a soft cock." She cupped his balls. "It's kinda nice."

Jenna held up his flaccid dick, moving it around in her hand. "Yes, it is. And I've never really watched one grow. Have you?"

"No."

As they were saying this, with hands from two different women on his penis and scrotum, he gradually began to grow. Jenna joined Mary on her knees and both watched in fascination as his cock made the conversion from limp sausage to bone-hard, solid hunk of meat. The lust in their eyes was unmistakable as their mouths attacked what their hands held.

While Jenna was giving Ron a very sensuous blow job, using her talented mouth to coat his steel rod with saliva, her tongue massaging the very tender underside, Mary moved aside to give her room. Mary then knelt on the sofa beside Ron and leaned in for a passionate kiss, swapping spit and dueling with their tongues. After a few minutes, Jenna looked up, saw what Ron and Mary were doing, decided she wanted some of the same and assumed a position similar to Mary's on Ron's other side. Mary's hand reached down to stroke Ron's cock, keeping it alive, and when Jenna leaned in for a three-way kiss, Mary felt his dick expand with excitement. That prompted her to have a taste and she went down to take him in her mouth.

With one eye open, Ron spotted Chelsea all alone on the love seat, her heavy breathing signifying her arousal over what she was watching. He gestured with his hand for her to join in, but she merely shook her head.

Glimpsing that, Mary stood, stepped over to Chelsea, pulled her up and walked her over to the sofa, then helped her to squat over Ron's cock. Mary grabbed it and held it up so she could easily impale herself. Jenna stopped her kissing, assisting Chelsea to steady herself.

A deep sigh escaped Chelsea's lips as she sank down, feeling the glory of Ron's saliva-coated dick touching every inch of her wanting vagina. Once she established a front to back motion, the other ladies each put an arm around her and the other around Ron. Jenna held the back of Ron's and Chelsea's heads and moved them together until their lips met. Jenna then started placing kisses on Ron's head, ears and neck, prompting Mary to do the same on the other side. Ron was able to latch on to a breast of on each of the women on the side of him.




Uncharted Territory Pt. 05



Mary and Jenna pivoted a bit more to face him, and from this angle, he was able to let his hands drop and slide a finger into each of their drenched pussies. Unchartered territory: fucking one woman, while finger-fucking two more.

What the hell had he been so down about before?

Within minutes, Chelsea's breathing intensified and her moaning grew louder. Withdrawing his pussy-soaked fingers, Ron wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him to see her through her orgasm. She did likewise around his neck. Then feeling wicked for a moment, with his arms crossed around Chelsea's back, he fed a finger into Jenna's and Mary's mouths, and whether either realized she was sucking the other's pussy juice off his digits, it didn't seem to matter; they went at it hungrily.

Chelsea's climax was intense, the others having to support her from falling over backwards. She collapsed on him when she finished. Though none of the others came, all were breathing heavily.

When all had caught their breath, and were sitting side by side on the sofa, their heads leaning against the backrest, Jenna said, "Wow, that was hot! Let's take this to the bedroom where we can really have some fun!"

All arose, and as they walked off, Chelsea said, "You go ahead. I think my work here is done."

"You can't go yet," Ron said. "We're only just starting."

"You three are only just starting," Chelsea corrected. "I promised my husband I wouldn't be late, and if I go back there with you, I have a feeling I'll never leave."

Mary and Jenna each hugged her.

"Thanks for organizing this," Jenna offered.

"My pleasure."

"You two go get comfortable," Ron suggested. "I'll see her out."

After the other two were gone, Ron asked, "What was this all about? And how did you get those two together?"

Chelsea retrieved her clothes from the dining table, removed her negligee and dressed. "I had a feeling this would not be a good day for you and that you would come home pretty much in the mood you did. So, I thought about possible solutions, and this seemed best because I thought you would need what just happened and what is yet to come—pun intended."

"Did you consider that getting those two together could be explosive?"

"Seems like it is and will get even more so."

Ron shook his head. "That's not what I meant—"

"I know, I was just attempting to lighten you up. Look, from the moment they met, Jenna and Mary got along as though they were best friends. They are two very special women. No wonder you've had such a hard time choosing. They've even had some discussions—"

"That's what worries me."

"Well, don't," Chelsea said reassuringly. "The matter is well in hand, and I suspect by the time the first one leaves, a decision will have been made. Trust me."

"Okay, you've never steered me wrong."

"Now, you're talking."

"How did you even know how to contact them, and for that matter, how did you get in here?"

"You've told me a number of times where you hide your key," she told him as though he was a dummy. "And I'm not a senior executive assistant for nothing. If you only knew the similar types of things I have to do for the boss—this was a piece of cake." She leaned up and kissed him. "Now, you go on. You've got two beautiful young women anxiously awaiting you. We'll talk on Monday." And with that, she was gone. 

* * *

The light in the bedroom was muted in shades of red and coral. The reason was instantly clear as the women had draped their negligees over the two bedside lamps to provide just a small amount of illumination. That meant both ladies were obviously naked under the covers. They were facing each other, each on one end of the bed, leaving a narrow spot in the middle for him. He crawled up from the foot of the bed and they lifted the covers for him to join them.

On his back, Jenna, to his right, and Mary, on his left, scooted closer all the way against him on their sides. The softness of their skin pressed against him was comforting. There was just nothing like the feel of naked skin against naked skin. Jenna turned his face slightly to her and kissed him, her tongue finding its way past his lips. It lasted only a minute before she relinquished his lips to Mary. If this was a contest, there was no way he could pick a winner.

"This is almost scary having the two of you together," Ron noted.

"Why? Did you think we were going to duke it out or something?" Jenna asked in between kissing.

"Or something."

"You didn't think we would get along?" Mary added, after her turn kissing.

"Well, I didn't know what to think."

"Turns out, we really like each other," Jenna noted.

"You do?" Ron said, somewhat amazed, although where Jenna was involved, he shouldn't have been. Mary, on the other hand, could be showing a new side to herself.

"If you don't believe us . . ." Without another word, the two women stretched their necks over his head and kissed each other as sensually as they had him.

Ron though he was going to pass out. "Did Chelsea put something in my drink? I must be dreaming."

Both women pushed the covers down below all of their knees. Kissing him again, Jenna also grabbed his rock hard again cock and stroked it, while Mary, with a hand on his abdomen, sucked on his left nipple. He put his arms around both of them and they took that as encouragement to kiss each other again. Jenna was still holding his rod, which seemed to be getting harder if that was possible, and went back to kissing him. Mary went down on his tool, taking it all the way down to Jenna's hand. The latter cupped the former's cheek every time she went down. Jenna's hand and Mary's mouth went up and down in unison. A minute later, Jenna moved down, stopping briefly to press her lips against Mary's before the two traded positions.

Mary kissed Ron again, but was more interested in sucking his nipple once more. She alternated between that and his lips, Until Jenna moved up and kissed the side of his face, then she and Mary locked lips again.

It was a turn on, to say the least, being able to watch two women kiss directly above him, but then to have those two ladies be Jenna and Mary was even more incredible. But perhaps the most amazing part of it all was the fact that, on one level they were adversaries, but on the other they had become lovers. It didn't surprise him much about Jenna, but he had no idea Mary had a bi side.

Now, they were ready to escalate this ménage à trois. Mary laid back next to Ron turning on her side away from him. She lifted her leg to signify her desire. He was all too happy to accommodate her so he guided his oozing cock easily into her wet snatch and started pumping away. Jenna was kneeling on his other side with her hand on Mary's ass, and she alternated between kissing him on the lips, then Mary. Again, he was astonished at how much the women were getting into each other. Ron moved his arm under Mary's neck and around to play with one tit while Jenna played with the other.

After several minutes of this, Ron pulled out and lay on his back. Jenna quickly mounted him, facing his feet, and began bouncing up and down while Mary went back to kissing him. He grabbed Jenna's hips as she rubbed Mary's thigh.

Jenna soon tired of her position and rolled onto her side between Ron and Mary, almost without letting his cock slip out. A flick of her wrist had him back inside her juicy pussy.

Mary and Jenna were now facing each other, and as though they had found some new miracle drug, their mouths joined again and their hands covered each other's breasts. They even took turns sucking each other's nipples. It was great having his cock in either pussy, but with the action going on between the ladies, he didn't know how much longer he could last.

But Jenna was the one who didn't endure. She came hard, flooding Ron's cock as Mary backed away to watch. Sensing Ron was not far away; Jenna pulled away, and turned Mary over guiding her to a position on her hands and knees. She then directed Ron around behind to take Mary doggy style. Jenna was lying beside Mary on her back and she reached up to play with Mary's big dangling boob. Mary reached over and did the same to Jenna.

However, even as close as Ron thought he was, he still held out as Mary climaxed, her juices running down hers and Ron's legs. 

They all collapsed in a heap, and Ron was exhausted even though he had yet to come. When the ladies saw his pole still standing rigid, they attacked it with their mouths, heads sideways, sliding up and down his shaft in unison, the remnants of both their orgasms providing lubrication.

That was all it took before he started spurting. Each woman managed to capture some in her mouth with the remainder landing on the side of their faces. After they'd each had a chance to suck him dry, they naturally licked the residual come off of each other's face.

Much to his surprise—although he shouldn't have been with these gorgeous, horny women and what they were doing—Ron didn't deflate right away. He almost felt as though he could keep going. But as they relaxed on their backs next to each other, with him again in the middle, he gradually went soft.

"God, that was incredible," Jenna exclaimed.

"Yeah, I've forgotten how much fun threesomes can be," Mary agreed.

"So, you've done these before?" Ron asked.

"A few times," Mary answered. "Does that surprise you?"

"I guess I've just lived a sheltered life."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Mary sighed.

"You know, you see this kind of stuff in porno movies and read it in erotic literature, but like what you see and read in regular movies and books, you know much of it is not real," Ron mused. "So, you think it doesn't really happen."

"Oh, but it does," Jenna noted. "Way beyond what you can probably imagine."

"Yes, I'm beginning to realize that."

"And was a threesome everything you dreamed it would be?"

"It was with the two of you," Ron grinned devilishly. "I don't know that I could ever get tired of that." He caught Jenna and Mary exchange a look of . . . what? So, he tactfully added, "Particularly, since the two of you seem to be getting along so well. I'm still anxious to know how that came about."

"Chelsea didn't explain?" Mary asked.

"She only skimmed the surface. It made me believe there was much more."

"She called me this afternoon," Jenna explained, "identified herself, said your divorce hearing had been pushed up to today, and that she had texted you and received a reply that concerned her, that maybe it wasn't going well. She said that she had been having this feeling all day that you were probably going to come home in a rotten mood and thought it might cheer you up if she could get a few people together. She didn't elaborate on who the few people would be and I didn't ask. She then asked if I thought I could come to town and be there. I said of course I'd be there."

"That's almost exactly the discussion we had," Mary said. "I had to reschedule an appointment, but that wasn't a problem."

"So, the three of you sat around all afternoon waiting for me?" Ron asked in amazement.

"Yes," they answered in unison.

"I'm afraid to ask what you talked about."

"Why are you so worried about Jenna and me meeting and talking?"

"I guess because I've never had good luck with my girlfriends getting along. I mean, look at you and Dana."

"No offense, Ron, but Dana is a backward prude. She belongs back in the '50s," Mary said condescendingly. "I'll be the first to admit that I didn't give yours and my first go 'round a chance because I was too wild and reckless. But I still liked and cared for you even after we broke up. I couldn't just turn that off—not like Dana thought I should. Jenna and I are very much alike, so is it so hard to believe that we could actually like each other and get along, so much so that we're doing a threesome with you?"

"I think Ron's real concern, Mary," Jenna attempted to explain, "is us finding out how he feels about us. I think he needs to know that we both know the dilemma he is dealing with in trying to choose one of us."

"Oh, my God, you both know about that?" Ron asked, horrified.

"Well, as you pointed out," Jenna said, "we had a lot of time to talk. And it seems Mary knew more about it than I did."

"That's only because she's got a decision to make also."

Feigning anguish, Jenna whined, "So, what, I'm the leftover? Mary decides she wants her ex so then you have no choice but me?"

"No, no," Ron denied, trying to calm her. "It isn't like that. I didn't ask to have to make a decision between the two of you. I don't want to have to make a decision between the two of you. I was forced into it. I—"

"Now, you're saying you don't want either of us?" Mary jumped in.

"No, no," Ron cried. "You're twisting this out of shape. I love both of you, but it's too painful to have to make a decision—"

"Well, what makes you think the decision is yours to make?" Mary shot back.

"Yeah," Jenna agreed. "Maybe Mary and I will just decide if either of us really wants you. Maybe you'll be lucky to get one of us."

"Oh, please," Ron pleaded, "you've got this all wrong."

"Maybe it's you we've got all wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Jenna said, "here you are this great looking guy, with a man-size cock any woman would die for, and you're acting like a school boy who can't get a date for the prom."

"What?" Ron asked, appalled.

At this point, Mary burst out laughing, and Jenna could help but join in.

Now, really confused, Ron sat up. "What the hell is going on here?"

They pushed him back down and each woman slid as close to him as she could get, each hooking a leg on one of his, their pussies rubbing against his hips, a breast of each laying on his chest.

"I'm sorry, baby, we were just having a little fun at your expense," Jenna confessed.

Both ladies pressed kisses against the side of his face, taking turns on his lips.

Having calmed down, the softness of their bodies against him helping, Ron asked, "So what did I do to deserve that?"

"Are you mad?"

"No, I can take a joke."

"You were just so concerned about Jenna and I talking and spending time together," Mary explained, "we just thought it might prove to you that it was okay. We know we put you in the position of having to choose between us and we want you to know that it's just not a problem. We don't want you to have to stress about it. If you don't want to make a decision, don't."

"What does that mean?" Ron wanted to know.

"You're the one who keeps saying that we should just take it as it comes. But right now, nobody's coming—and that's what we should be doing."

Without waiting for a response, Mary grabbed his hardening cock and sat on it, sliding it easily into her still wet cunt. She was facing Ron's head. Not skipping a beat, Jenna threw her leg over Ron's face, her pussy landing squarely on his mouth. They might have duped him once, but he was ready this time. His tongue darted into Jenna's hot, moist snatch, lapping up her juices while he automatically started thrusting up to meet Mary.

Ron couldn't see what was going on above him, but he felt Jenna lean forward. What he didn't know what that she and Mary had reached out to embrace each other, which of course, led to their lips meeting. There was nothing like the taste of a soft, sweet pussy, and then to have his cock in the warm, velvet embrace of another—well, for that, they could tease him all they wanted.

Ron allowed his tongue to travel past Jenna's vaginal opening to that area of skin between it and her anus. After several strokes, she got the idea and slid forward enough for his tongue to saturate her puckered hole. He forced it in, and the yipe she emitted was a sign of her enjoyment. He reached his hand up to her pussy, stroking her clit while tongue-fucking her ass. She came in minutes, drenching his face in her saccharine juices. Worn out by the effort, she swung her leg over and laid down beside Ron.

They were both concentrating on Mary, each lifting a hand to tease her nipples, twisting, squeezing, lightly rubbing the tips. Mary bent down to kiss and lick Jenna's juices off of Ron's face. Witnessing this, Jenna pulled the other woman's lips to hers to taste herself.

Having a new idea, Jenna pulled Mary off Ron onto herself to continue their kiss. She then directed Ron to take Mary from behind. When he slid back in, her pussy was resting atop Jenna's. Not only could Jenna feel Mary's cunt rubbing against hers caused by Ron's thrusting, the feeling was heightened by his balls slapping against her vagina. Ron had been holding himself up on extended arms, but Jenna pulled him down, wrapping her arms around both him and Mary.

This caused Mary to climax with loud moans, which in turn, triggered Ron's. "Come in me," Mary pleaded.

"But save a few drops for me," Jenna begged.

So after shooting three jets into Mary, Ron quickly pulled out and jabbed into Jenna's snatch to deposit three more bursts into her. When he finished, and was certain Mary was, he rolled off onto his back. Mary rolled the opposite way putting Jenna in the middle.

"Damn, you come up with some great positions, Jenna," Mary complimented.

As the afterglow gradually faded, slumber slowly took over.

* * *

Like clockwork, Ron's internal alarm went off at six a.m. on Saturday morning. Normally, on weekends, he just turned over and went back to sleep for an hour or two. But this morning he was starving.

Hearing the gentle breathing of the two gorgeous creatures beside him was a reminder of Friday's events. His day in court was now a vague memory. However, the events following his arrival home were still very vivid. That brought a smile to his face.

He eased out of bed very quietly to avoid awakening the ladies, and before he stepped into the bathroom, he took a moment to admire the sleeping forms that adorned his bed. God, they were beautiful: Jenna with her trim—not skinny, just enough meat on her bones—body and rounded conical breasts and perhaps the best ass on the face of the earth; and Mary with her buxom—not plump or fat, just a little more meat than she might like, but it appealed to him—body and her large, ball-shaped tits and globular behind . . .

Jenna, so even-tempered, easy-going, and willing to do anything (sexually, as well); and Mary, a bit more strong-minded, mostly agreeable, but always eager to please . . . and both such intelligent women.

In that moment of watching them, he instantly made his decision—as though he had been driving in a fog and it suddenly cleared. And surprisingly, it was easy.

He quickly used the bathroom, slipped on some boxers that he normally slept in and went to the kitchen where he put on a pot of coffee and toasted a couple of slices of bread.

While the coffee was brewing, he spread some jam on the toast and contemplated his decision. But oddly enough, his mind was blank. He found he had nothing to analyze. He was very comfortable with his decision, unlike the many situations over the last two weeks in which he had spent hours in reflective thought. Now, he had no need to self-psycho analyze. That in itself was an eye-opener.

It was just as well, because only minutes later, a groggy Mary appeared in an oversized T-shirt that she had probably grabbed out of his dresser—it looked better on her anyway—and her almost non-existent panties. The coffee had finished dripping, so before uttering a word, she poured them each a cup, sat beside him, taking a bite from the half-slice of toast that was left and finally spoke. "Good morning."

"No, it's a great morning," he said, enthusiastically.

That caused her eyes to blink wider, as though that was too much cheeriness for her to take this soon. "Okay, why is that?"




Uncharted Territory Pt. 05



"I've made my decision."

"Oh," Mary responded quietly. "And that is?"

"Well, I think we should wait for Jenna."

"Uh, I don't know how to tell you this, but I've made mine also." Mary almost sounded somber. Or was she just not completely awake yet?

The tone of her voice was a dead giveaway. His mood slowly sank. "It's not me."

With a grimace, Mary said, "This is not the way I wanted to tell you."

"You've gone too far now."

"Now that I've met Jenna, I can see why it's been so hard for you." She reached out and touched his hand. "It's been just as difficult for me. Believe me, it has. A big part of me wanted us to resume to see where we would have gone had we stayed together years ago. But another part felt I should give Rusty the chance I never gave our marriage."

"What was the deciding factor? Was it something I did?"

"No, no, Ron, not at all." Her eyes watered. "I love you very much. I never stopped loving you. I think a part of me will always love you. But meeting Jenna yesterday and talking to her, getting to know her and seeing the two of you together . . . the two of you belong together. She is more right for you than I will ever be."

Ron had that gripping, tingling feeling in his throat, like he was going to cry. He said nothing.

"I can see by the Dana look on your face," Mary observed, "that you're not happy, meaning you don't agree with my decision, meaning Jenna was not your choice."

Swallowing hard, with difficulty, Ron forced himself to speak. "You were both my choice."

Mary frowned with incomprehension.

"I was going to talk to the two of you about maybe us being a threesome. The two of you got along so well and we had so much fun last night."

Leaning closer and gazing deeply into his eyes, Mary said, "Ron, when I said I'd only had a few threesomes—"

"I'm not just talking about sex."

"I know. Just hear me out. When I said I'd only done a few threesomes, what I didn't add was that I was a hesitantly reluctant participant. And the one with another woman was really hard to swallow—if you'll pardon the pun. But the special thing about Jenna is that her sexual aura is so strong, I found myself not only doing things with her I'd never done, but really wanting to do them. And better still, this morning I don't regret doing any of it. I'll even go one step further and say that I'd spend another evening some time doing the same things with the two of you. In fact, I'd really like to.

"But to live the lifestyle you're suggesting . . . that's not for me. At least at this time in my life. Besides, I do really want to give Rusty another chance. He's really a great guy—maybe as great as you. I think he deserves it." Mary paused to study Ron. When he still said nothing, she added, "Perhaps the four of us could get together sometime, go to dinner or something."

Pulling himself together, Ron said, "That would be nice. I'd really like to meet him."

"Good." She looked at him closely again. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I just . . ." He started to explain, but instead just said, "It was an impulsive thought. If I'd taken the time to think about it, I probably would have seen the impracticality of it." Maybe that was true.

Mary grabbed his head, pulled it to her and kissed him passionately. "Jenna's one lucky girl."

"It'll never be too late to change your mind."

But before she could respond, Jenna appeared, similarly attired. "You two look too somber for the morning after such a wonderful night."

Looking up at her, Mary explained, "Ron has made his decision. He doesn't want to choose between us. He wants us to be a threesome. A permanent threesome."

With raised eyebrows, Jenna commented, "Wow, now there's a concept."

"Mary has come to a decision also," Ron informed her. "She wants to give her ex another chance."

"Really?" Jenna said in a surprised voice, though she wasn't really. "And all of this happened while I was sleeping? Just goes to show, snooze and you lose."

"I just don't think I could live a life like that," Mary said in her own defense. "Besides, I think the new me really does need to give Rusty another chance. But I truly enjoyed last night. In fact, I'd like to get together again some time and do it again with you guys."

"Well, I don't know that there's going to be a 'you guys.'"

"What?" Ron and Mary chimed in unison.

"You said Ron's decision was for a threesome. Now that you've subtracted yourself from the equation, he hasn't said what that leaves."

"Gotcha." Mary nodded her understanding. "Then it sounds like the two of you have some talking to do, so I'll leave you to it while I go shower. I'm meeting Rusty for lunch. We've got some talking to do."

"You've already called him?" Ron asked, surprised.

"No, we set this up earlier yesterday. There are some compromises to be made."

"Now there's an interesting concept," he remarked.

After Mary walked off, Jenna noted, "Sounds like that last statement was directed at me."

"Earlier this week," Ron began as Jenna helped herself to a cup of coffee, then took the chair formerly occupied by Mary, "I stopped at a lounge after work for a couple of beers and I ended up sitting with a psychologist. We got into a discussion, which led to me telling her about our board meeting weekend, the following week with Debi and Mary and the next weekend with you. I left out Chelsea, Brianne and Bret because I didn't want to over complicate the story. Anyway, her advice was that I get to know you and Mary better. Well, I had just spent the weekend with you, so I called Mary because, frankly, I thought that maybe her saying she wanted to get back together was just heat of the moment talk. But it wasn't. So, I thought that would be my quest: to get to know the two of you better.

"The other issue we discussed was the wild sex. I fear that after a while, after too much of it, I would get burned out. So, the psychologist's other advice was compromise. It couldn't be all about what you or Mary wanted, there had to be compromise."

"And yet," Jenna concluded, nodding, "You wanted a permanent threesome with us."

Ron shook his head. "That was an impulse. When I got up this morning and saw the two of you sleeping so innocently in bed, I thought it would be wonderful to wake up like that every morning. But I didn't think it through. I was going to wait until both of you were awake to mention it, but upon hearing Mary's decision, I had to tell her."

"So, are you disappointed by Mary's decision?"

"If I had taken the time to think about," Ron admitted, "I would have realized that it probably wouldn't have worked. So, no, I'm not disappointed."

"Actually, what I meant was, are you sorry it's her and not me pulling out?"

"Absolutely not."

Jenna arose from her chair, moved over to Ron, pushed his chair back, fished his partially hard cock out of his boxers—once in her hand it grew the rest of the way—pulled aside the leg of her panties, then straddled him inserting his rod into her. She just sat there unmoving, feeling him pulse within her. "Because I can compromise. I will compromise. But in order to do that, I think we need to define terms." She gave a few back and forth moves just to keep him hard, then stopped.

"What does that mean?"

"Of all the sex you and I have had, which of it would you call wild?"

Ron wasn't certain what her purpose was in sitting on him with his cock jammed in her while having this discussion, but he tried to stay focused. "Just about all of it."

"All," she repeated, almost anticipating that would be his answer. "Then what was not?"

"The night in your apartment when we returned from the club."

"That's all?"

"All that comes to mind. What do you consider wild?"

"I'm glad you asked," Jenna grinned, moving a few more strokes. "For me, wild would have been the drive home from the meeting, the boat trip with Bret and Brianne, and of course, last night."

"Then what was the rest?"

"The rest was great sex performed in a manner to make it great. You probably think it's wild because it's straight sex in a manner in which you were not accustomed. To be truthful, even what I said was wild was not really. It was just sex with multiple partners, but because it was, most people would probably call it wild." She rotated her pussy in a couple of circles. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Forcing himself to think about what was her point instead of the glorious feeling of his aching cock sheathed in the warm and wet glove that was her pussy, he realized that she was right. For so long, he had associated ordinary sex as what he had with Dana and that what he'd had with Jenna, sans extra participants, was inventive, but in his mind, so much of it was so way beyond Dana that he considered it wild. "Yes, I do. It's almost a revelation."

"So, we're good to go?"

"I think we are."

"Outstanding!" She pressed her lips to his in a passionate kiss, let her hips go again, but this time, did not stop.

"You call this talking?" Mary asked, all dressed and ready to go.

Jenna felt Ron's cock swell when he saw Mary, so she backed off the kiss, glancing at Mary herself. She was hot in a short skirt and low-cut top showing off all of her best attributes. "We're speaking the language of love. But he likes what he sees so if you could stay there a minute, I think the volcano is about to erupt."

"Maybe this will help," Mary offered. She leaned over, not only providing him with a view down her top, but she also gave him a wet kiss with lots of tongue action. She turned his head to the side so Jenna had a good view. Jenna responded by squeezing her mouth in with theirs. The corners of their mouths were touching, and their tongues entwined in a spit-swapping dance.

"Oh, yeah!" Ron managed to get out, followed by a blasting orgasm.

"My sentiments exactlyyyyyyyy," Jenna groaned through gritted teeth, following him.

Mary backed off to let them finish, but was feeling a little wet in her own panties.

When Jenna got up off of Ron, Mary eyes widened at the sight of his luscious, still hard cock glistening with his and Jenna's combined juices. She licked her lips.

"Help yourself," Jenna offered.

"I'd love to, but I have to go."

The two ladies hugged. "Stay in touch."

"I will, you lucky girl."

"It's not too late to change your mind," Ron said, slipping his slimy penis back into his shorts.

"Well, if Rusty and I don't come to an agreement or if it doesn't work out, I might just."

They hugged and kissed. "One way or the other, let's not make it a few more years like it was."

"Oh, don't worry," Mary reassured. "Jenna and I are on the same page, unlike Dana and I who were in different volumes."

She kissed them each again, and then departed.

* * *

They spent the remainder of the day—and weekend—lazily. They talked and made love and talked and fucked . . . and even managed to fit in some meals.

In the end, they made few rules for themselves and their new relationship, deciding to just let things happen as they may and take things as they came. If one or the other did something that one or the other didn't like, they would try to discuss it rationally and come to an agreement.

As to the rest . . . the journey into uncharted territory had come to an end, they had now reached familiar ground. And while there might still be unknown highways to travel, anything from here on would simply be adventures . . . beyond the ordinary . . .

The end of the Uncharted Territory series . . . but Ron and Jenna will return.