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Stepping Out

By: Leland48



I leave to pick up the babysitter. You are getting ready and still wrapped in a towel. I have dress pants on and one of my silk shirts. You tell me to give you 15 minutes before coming back. I drive very slowly, I arrive back at the house with the babysitter 20 minutes after I left.

We walk in the house and I find you in the kitchen. You look so hot I have to steady myself on the counter. You have a purple skintight short dress on. You hair looks perfect. Your body shows the dress off well. Your legs long and tan, on your feet you have sexy 3 inch spiked heel purple shoes. You simply look at me and say that you thought I would like the shoes. I tell you how much I love everything, especially you! We kiss - and as our lips part you say there are more surprises to come this evening.

We say our goodnights to the kids and babysitter, mentioning that we may be very late tonight. The car is in the driveway and I open your door to let you in. When I get in the drivers seat you say it is very warm in the car and could I crank up the air conditioning. We kiss and start driving with the cool air quickly filling the car. 

You tell me how good I look and you rub my thigh and then my chest. Your touch is so soft yet I feel every part of your hand as it glides over my body. I tell you how great you look and that it will be a problem to keep my hands off you. You tell me that is not a problem but an opportunity.

We are off to a club for a night of dancing. By the time we reach the interstate the car has cooled down considerably. I reach to turn it down but you grab my hand and stop me. You tell me that you want the car to get very cold for my first surprise of the evening. When we get to our exit the car is cold. I look over at you and can clearly see your incredible nipples pushing hard against the fabric of your dress. I find this very erotic and you know it. You remind me to keep my eyes on the road and turn down the air conditioning. I do and as my hand is leaving the temperature controls you take it in yours and press it to your chest. Slowly, you take my hand and make it yours as you rub your breast. You feel so good, and so hot. I feel your nipples harden more with the touch of my hand. You put my hand back on the steering wheel and tell me that you will be thinking about having my mouth sucking on your nipples.

You stare at me the rest of the way to the club, continually telling me how much you love me, how good I look and how much you want me. I tell you that it is me who is the lucky one.

We get to the parking lot of the club and find a space. You tell me not to shut the car off just yet. Surprise number two is coming. You shift your body in the leather seat so that your legs are turned towards me. Slowly you pull up the hem of the dress. It does not take long before I can see your beautiful pussy. I gasp and smile - no panties!! You moan very subtly and tell me that all night you will be thinking about having my tongue on your clit and in your pussy.

You open you legs just a bit more so I can see how perfectly trimmed your bush is. A small beautiful runway of hair leading to your clit. The dark hair is a great contrast to your pink pussy lips. I also see that you are turned on by your sexy behavior. Your pussy juices are glistening in the setting sunlight. I reach to touch your incredible pussy and you grab my hand and say only a little now. You take my middle finger and pull it to your pussy - it slips right past your slippery lips. You moan and ask me to put it in deeper, but you stop yourself and pull my finger out. You tell me to lick my finger - I do and it taste so good.

We go into the club and we are early so we get a good table near the dance floor. We order drinks and start to relax. We sit there for a long while just enjoying each other's company. We kiss each over frequently - sometimes very deeply with tongues dancing together - but most of the time very lightly with our lips just touching. We are both enjoying the continued teasing that started before we left the house. 

After what seems like hours of getting drunk on each other we look up and notice the club has gotten crowded. Lot's of good looking people dancing and drinking. We get out on the dance floor and your dance is entrancing. So classy, so stylist, so sexy. You are getting a lot of attention from me but also from everyone in the club. Your beauty admired by everybody - male and female. We sit back down and kiss for a long, long time. Your tongue is heavenly as it dances in and out of my month. When we stop kissing you whisper to me that the couple at the next table is watching us. I say - so! You say look at them - they are both very good looking. I look at them and agree with your opinion. They notice that we are talking about them, they smile and the lady immediately gets up and walks toward us followed by her man. They carry their chairs over and ask if they can join us at our table. They tell us how wonderful it is to see another couple as in love as we are. Watching us has gotten them very excited and they want to thank us by buying a round of drinks.

She is very pretty - deep red auburn hair - short. White dress, white stockings and pretty white sandals. Her breast are large, she is not skinny, but not fat either. She looks great, well proportioned with curves in all the right places. He also is good looking, light brown hair, light complexion dressed very similar to me.

We sit for a while and sip our drinks and then you suggest that we should dance. When we get back to the table after dancing they are there kissing each other. We can see their tongues moving together. It is very erotic watching their passionate kiss up close. His hand is on her thigh and her hand is high on his thigh with her pinky teasing his obviously hard cock. You whisper to me that it would be exciting to watch them make love. I agree and we start following their lead by kissing. As we are kissing my hand moves up your leg to your thigh. As I move closer I can feel the heat and energy from between your legs. My dick is immediately hard and pressing against my underwear. When we break from our embrace our new friends are sitting watching us with large smiles in their faces.

The lady tells us they have a suite in the hotel next to the club. She asks if we would like to go and have a drink there - it would be a bit more quite. You quickly say that it sounds like a great idea. We walk to the hotel and get into the elevator and immediately start kissing and caressing. As the elevator is making its slow accent we stop and look at them and I tell them how much we would like to watch them make love. A large smile comes over them and they just say that great minds think alike.

The hotel suite is beautiful. We go straight to the bedroom. There is a king size bed and a Cleopatra chair next to it. I move the chair closer to the bed while you go into the bathroom. He makes drinks while the lady lights what seems like 100 candles. (They are prepared).

You and I get comfortable on the chair while they start making out next to the bed. They are not more than two feet from us. They dance slowly together as each of them explores the back and ass of the other. You are lying in front of me and I am holding you. We are still as we watch this beautiful couple before us.

Slowly she starts to un-button his shirt, she kisses his chest and sucks on his nipples. It is not long before he finishes removing the shirt, throwing it to the floor. She pulls him close and presses her tits to his chest. While they kiss deeply she moves her hands down to his pants. With one hand she works on the belt and zipper while her other hand massages his already hard cock. Even under his pants it looks large.

She gets the belt undone and kneels before him as she pulls down his zipper. He has no underwear on so his cock springs from his pants. She grabs it in her hands and licks the top of it. As she takes him in her month you take your hand, reach behind you and start playing with my hard dick which has been pressed into your back . 

He pulls her up and un-zips the back of her dress. Quickly she helps the dress fall off her body onto the floor. All she is wearing is thigh high white stockings. Her tits are milky white with small pink nipples, surrounded by large pink circles and her pussy is shaved completely so her pink lips contrast against her white skin and the white stockings. We can see that she is very wet. He is on his knees now licking her pussy. She lies back on the bed and opens her legs wide --we move ourselves close to watch as he licks and sucks her wanting pussy.

You can't take it anymore and your dress is off in record speed. You look incredible, your nipples are hard and very erect, your pussy beautifully wet. You jump onto the bed next to her and demand that I strip. Before I know it I am standing next to the bed and you are sucking and licking my hard cock. As your sucking you reach around grab my ass and pull me closer. You take my hand and put it in your pussy. I take my dick out of your mouth and move between your wonderful legs. Your pussy feels so good and I start nibbling your otter lips, careful not to touch your clit just yet. I look up and notice that they have stopped and are watching us intently. I'm thrilled about this and don't want to disappoint them with the show. They are below your pussy so they can see my tongue going in and around your pussy. As they watch he has his fingers in her pussy and she is stroking his cock.

I slide around your otter lips, inner lips and slowly to your clit. You are loving it. Slowly with my fingers I open your lips and expose your love channel, your juice flow all over my hand. Slowly as they watch every move my finger slides into your pussy. One finger first then two fingers then three. Your are moaning in ecstasy. They can't take it anymore and she jumps on the bed next to you and spreads her legs. I stop and we sit up to watch. We see his cock slowly engulfed by her wanting pussy. He teases her by only giving her the tip of his cock and then pulling out. But soon he is pumping her in ever increasing rhythm.

You lay back and with your hand take my cock and guide it to your pussy. Everyone is moaning and enjoying the moment. As we continue to fuck you both, the two of you find each other's mouths and kiss gently, your tongues doing an amazing waltz together. Your hand moves to her clit and you start rubbing her, she does the same to you. Soon all four of us explode and cum together. Not just once but for what seems likes wave after wave of ecstasy. 

We lay together for the next hours just talking about life and love. Before we part we exchange numbers for the next time...

Stepping Out



This is an intentional slow burn type story, so it gets off to a slow start. I have a direction for this story and it doesn't lend it's self to a quick resolution. More a emotionally charged one. Please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading and letting me write for you.

Martin

*

"Hey baby, It's me."

"I know," she said, her words short and clipped. "They came out with caller ID a few years ago."

Her words cutdeep. In a way it made lying easier, even so, I let dead air hang for a for a second."Well, Roger just dropped a case onto my desk, so I'll likely be here until about 10, maybe 11."

"Huge surprise there." You could feel the indifference in her voice. "Well, Jeanne and I were planning on doing wine and a movie anyhow, so, yeah, guess I'll see ya." The line went dead. Kind of like our marriage.

Ten years ago we had the marriage that everyone else compared theirs to and found themselves wanting. College sweethearts, we'd managed to stay together through my Law school, and her PhD. She stayed beautiful and I kept in shape pretty well myself with daily gym trips and clean eating. We took long vacations to interesting locales and visited our wide ranging group of friends as much as we could. Everything was idyllic. 

Then life happened. I had been working at a small law firm doing mostly contract work, waiver writing, and similar "Small time" type stuff. I found I had a knack for it. Well, after a large company couldn't weasel their way out from one of the contracts I'd written for some small company we represented, they'd poached me away and into the law firm that they owned. Next thing I knew, I was making money far in excess of what I'd ever expected, writing contract for multinational corporations and dealing in millions instead of thousands of dollar contracts. 

Dana, to her credit, never gave up on her dream. She worked as an administrator at a local hospital. She'd worked her way through school as a nurse and brought her practical mentality and can do attitude into the corporate world of hospital administration. She spoke nurse, and in turn translated Suit into Nurse. It worked well, and she was well sought after first as a consultant, and ultimately as director of nursing for a large city hospital. 

These days she spent much of her days traveling through the city, meeting with staff from the hospitals many clinics or meetings at the hospital, and I slaved away at my office or less often in court.

Things changed one night at a time. We used to have sex every couple days. Her lean runner's legs called to me as she walked from the shower, and I just had to get my hands on them. Slowly, that became weekly, then monthly. Then...

Then I started to die inside. I gained some weight and started working longer hours, just so I wouldn't have to go home to the house that love forgot. She stayed beautiful, but that only made worse the feeling that I felt I failed her. So, I was left with the idea that my work was the only place I was excelling. That worked for a time. Last year I asked her to come with me on a vacation to Tahiti. She seemed hesitant, but agreed. Right at the last minute, a client called and I had to work. She said it was fine that we had to cancel, but that drove another wedge between us.

One day, 6 months ago, there was a fire at our office. Seems a local environmental activist group got the idea that the logging company we represented would be harmed by burning down our building. I had to run down eight flights of stairs. I had to rest twice. I was so scared I was going to die that I made a pact that if I got out of there I would get in better shape. I lost 60 pounds in a four months and got in the best shape of my life at 45. It was invigorating. Dana only wanted to know what her name was because Redbook said the only reason a guy diets after 35 is for another woman.

That burnt inside. I started thinking that I should start looking else where. We were married before I knew what the word pre-nup meant, so if we divorced I was out a lot of money. I was starting to get better at delegating and had hired a couple of very bright junior attorneys that I'd taught many (but not all) of my tricks to and they were handling more of my case load than ever. Dana didn't know that, so I felt that if I kept things the same, she'd never know.

My buddy Amir knew exactly what I was going through, having been through wife two and affair number four. He screwed the first marriage up, but with this one, he was more careful. He suggested I use some site called LocalNSA.com. I asked him what the NSA had to do with things, but he said it stood for No Strings Attached. Apparently there were a bunch of married folks there who would all be generally more discrete than singles could be. So I made a profile. I did lie a bit, saying I was a business guy, being that I knew a fair bit of business terminology, and I didn't want anyone to know what I really did. There weren't too many bad-ass contract lawyers out there, and I didn't want to get found out or identified. 

Disappointed with my exchange with my wife, I grabbed a soda from the break room fridge and walked slowly back to my office. My assistant Jon was gone for the day, but I still locked the door. I cracked my soda and logged onto the site. Once logged on, I looked through the profiles there and a couple struck me as worth my time. The first was a lady from downtown that claimed to be a book store owner in her late 30's. She had long brunette hair and was careful not to show her face, a common thing on here, and something I did on my own profile. She had a shapely figure, something I like quite a bit, and a wide variety of lingerie judging by the many pictures on her profile. I clicked, "Wink", something that apparently lets the user know you are interested. 

The next user I liked was an early 40's barista from the city. She was wearing a shoulder length wig, and had pierced nipples, and also never showed her face. She was leaner than the other, something I liked in my younger days, and really seemed to be looking for fun, judging by some of her responses to the canned questions from the site. This was a little intimidating. I wasn't exactly adrenaline junkie. More like an office monkey. I clicked "Wink" just the same, if only because she was the appropriate age, and I think part of me really liked the wig.

Immediately, she winked back. I then noticed there was an Eyeball icon that apparently indicated the person was online. I felt a chill of exhilaration. It took me a few seconds to figure it out, but I opened a chat window.

"Hiya!" I typed

"Hello, how are you tonight?" she replied.

This was so sophomoric. "I'm well... This feels silly" I decided to be honest. 

"Ha ha." she typed. Then she added, "What feels silly?"

"I feel like I'm chatting on a bulletin board like I did when I was 16 and lonely."

"I know, me too. Except now I'm 40something and lonely." 

It was comforting to think that at least she was feeling something like I was.

"I'm honestly not sure how this is supposed to work." I typed. "First night on, honestly."

"Well, It's just like when we were 16, but now we're older, smarter, and our internet connection is better." 

'Oh, She's funny,' I thought. "I'll make you a solemn promise, no dick pics unless SPECIFICALLY requested. I've read that it's totally last year."

"Ha! About.com can have some good info on online dating." she typed.

I laughed out loud and took a sip of cola. "So, you are a barista?"

"Yup. Bet I can guess your drink in three questions."

Ha. I was a difficult order. This should be good. "Ok, shoot."

"Ok, first question, dieting or not?"

"Kind of tricky way to see if I'm fat or not..."

"Unless you didn't use a pic of yourself, or a pick from high-school, I'm already interested in the body."

Shit, I didn't think of that. "Got me. Not dieting, but watching what goes in my mouth."

"Ok, second question: Chocolate cake or Fruit pie."

"Hmm.. Cherry cheese cake count?" I'd recently found a place near by that made a wonderful one, and it had became how I treated my self when I felt I'd earned it, even though I was being careful with what I ate.

"Last question: Here or to go?"

"Togo."

"This is easy. Like reading the mind of a child...."

"Ouch," I typed. "And we've only met."

"Well, here's your order, and I'll tell you why..."

"Shoot."

"Triple,Venti Americano with sugar free amaretto and extra half and half."

Damn she was good. I was normally a coconut milk guy, but the rest was spot on.

"Ok, Sherlock Barista, do tell why you guessed that."

"Well, to go means two things, one you won't be coming back, so triple Venti for the extra caffene. And americano is faster than the cappuccino that was my other option. As for the flavor, I find it to be the favorite of folks who want fancy-ish and don't want a mocha."

"And the half and half?"

"You want the richness of a latte, but not the carbs."

This gal WAS good.

"Coconut milk, but only because I've been recently diagnosed with lactose intolerance. Very impressive."

"Told you I was good."

"That's something I'll have to find out later. We're a little soon in our relationship."

"Ha! Nice. Forward, I like it. Most guys are scared off by me and how I operate."

We talked for 4 hours. We skated around personal topics like skilled politicians. Instead, we talked about music likes and dislikes, movies in general and even a little about the local sports scene. This girl was everything I wasn't. She was into roller derby and soccer, where I'd never seen a derby match and preferred baseball, admittedly because I could get work done during lulls in the action.

I was into action movies, but I'd taken a recent interest in foreign drama films because Foreign audiences seemed to have a more mature taste, and as such had much deeper films made for them. She had seen many of the plays available locally, something I had never done, and even filled me in on about the local drag-show scene as well as the burlesque dinner joint downtown. I couldn't imagine myself, re-invented as I was, going into someplace like that in my suit and tie.

I asked her about her pierced nipples, and she asked me about my six-pack. I didn't go all the way into it, but I said I had a health scare, which was half true, and re-invented myself. She said she had a mid life crisis and got pierced with a girl friend. She said they were fun to play with and I told her they looked sexy. She said she was thinking about getting a sleeve tattoo, but wasn't sure. It was a lot of money, and she wasn't sure she could do the pain thing. I reminded her that One: she was a woman and could likely take it better than I could, and Two: she got her nipples pierced. She laughed and said she thought I was funny.

Ultimately, I had to go. We finished up by agreeing to talk the next night. Neither of us wanted to go, but both agreed we needed to. I was falling asleep at my keyboard, and decided I'd just crash at the office. I was a junior level partner, and had a recliner, a shower, extra clothes, and stuff, so it had been something that happened not often, but often enough.

Morning came, and I texted Dana.

"Hey, slept at the office, Jon just woke me up. Sorry I didn't call."

"k"

Man, it was like she didn't even care. It made the ache to talk to Jane (the name the barista gave me last night) even more. 

Meetings, Skype conferences, webinars. It all drug on me today. I was distracted. I just dismissed folks concern by saying I was having issues with Dana. Family issues in a high powered attorney's office was super common, so everyone left me to myself.

I'd found the phone APP for the website, so I downloaded it. I realized that I needed to go home, at least to get yelled at, so I packed up my brief case full of, ironically, legal briefs and headed home.

I started the car and immediately felt guilty. I was headed home eagerly to cheat emotionally on my wife. I detoured and got take out, then headed home. When I got home, Dana's car wasn't in the drive way. I texted her. 

"Hey, brought Gold Gravy home." Gold gravy was the code word we used to use for the almond chicken and gravy we used to eat all the time. I avoided it a lot now, but like the cheese cake, it made it's way into my diet.

"I've been avoiding trans fats, but thanks. I'll be home in a few."

Hell, I couldn't even do that good enough.

By the time she got home, I was in the TV room watching Netflix, something I seldom made time for. I quickly changed from the documentary on roller derby I had been watching when I heard her car pull up, to Tombstone, one of the greatest movies ever. 

"Hey," she called into me from the entry way. "I was at kickboxing with Anne. I'm all sweaty. I grabbed a chicken wrap on the way, so I'm going to hit the shower and then Bed. 'Night."

It was just like many of the nights I'd spent the past couple years. Alone.

Except, in 30 minutes I was supposed to chat with Jane. I turned down the volume, unnecessary since we had soundproofed the tv room, but my adolescent mind wouldn't let me keep the volume up, and changed it back to the Roller derby show.

BING the app chimed. Shit. I hurriedly muted my phone.

"Heya, businessman."

"Heya, coffee girl."

"I'm horny." Damn that was forward of her.

I decided I was going to be that way too. "Isn't that why we're here?"

"My girlfriend is out with her friends. It's a peril of our kind of relationship."

I was a little shocked. "Like a lesbian one?"

"Yeah."

"I've heard of that. Lesbian bed death, right?"

"LoL... sure. You read too much."

"Never been accused of that. My wife is out of town myself."

"What are your hands like?"

"Largish. Soft from office work, but calloused in places from working out."

"Ass man, breast man, other man?"

"Leg man. Honestly, I like a thick thigh, but your legs remind me of high school, so I've become enamored."

"Talk dirty to me."

"What are you wearing."

"Original."

"Hey, it sets the mood."

"Ok. Blue wig, white satin teddy with black lace and a black thong."

God that was delicious.

"I would love to feel your breasts through the slick cloth of your teddy. I'd knead them like loaves of bread. Slowly, tentatively, I'd pull at and tease your nipple rings. I'd love to feel them get hard with those little metal bars through them."

"God, that's hot."

"Then I'd put my mouth over one and get the material all wet as I suckled you. I'd pull and tease the bar with my lips and tongue while my hands explored the curve of your back and ass."

"Yeah... go on."

"I'd switch when you guided my mouth to the other one. You'd crush my head against your breast and I'd pull your hips to me so you could feel how hard you'd made me in my jeans."

"God, I love a topless man in jeans."

I was getting seriously worked up, in the dark, alone.

"I'd pick you up and place you on our bed. I'd lay along side you so you could feel how hard I was. I'd run my hand up and down your body while I continued on your breast with my mouth."

"Oh yeah."

"I'd run my hand up your teddy, slowly, enjoying your silky skin. Up your belly and down to the top of your panties. I'd rub the heel of my palm against you. Grinding slowly. Feeling you move your hips."

There was no reply.

"I want you to touch yourself. Like I would."

"Dirty."

"Shh. Just read."

"I'd run a finger under the edge of your panties, back and forth, feeling the delicate skin there and just the edge of your hair.

"Then I'd curl my whole hand over your mound and rub up and down. I'd feel your lips and where your legs meet you, rubbing there gently before I concentrated on where I feel the moisture coming from.

"I'd dip my middle finger in as I went up and down with the rest of my hand. I'd seek out your little nub at the top, and once I was slick enough, I'd dip into you at the bottom. Shallow at first, but as it got more slick, I'd go deeper, curling it up against the top where I'd love looking for your G-spot.

"Put your other hand on your breast as I would my mouth. Tease your nipple. Pinch it a little, and roll it at the same time. Now knead the whole thing.

"I'd keep doing that as I added my index finger beside my middle. Softly and slowly I'd circle your clit a few times, then I'd slide deep inside you. Back and forth I'd do that.

"I can feel you getting close. You are gripping onto my fingers.

"Keep going. 

"Imagine me beside you, I'm stroking myself watching you get close to cumming. 

"I'd love to look into your eyes.

I was stroking while I typed with one hand. I sat the phone down and closed my eyes, imagining in vivid detail what she looked like on her profile. I placed my shirt over myself as I came harder than I had in recent months. When I regained my breath there was a picture message. 

On the back drop of a white sheet, was a pair of sexy woman's fingers with a creamy fluid over them.

"We made me squirt."

Fuck that was hot.

"So sexy!" I typed when I'd cleaned my self up as best I could.

"We made me squirt too."

"LoL" she typed. "Wish I could have been there for that. I love the feeling of it against my breasts."

"That would have been so hot," I replied. There was a long pause. I was wondering what I should say.

"Maybe we should meet..."

I hadn't expected it so soon, but wasn't that what we were here for? I waited a few seconds before I answered. "Ok."

"There's a little Hotel on East Weston avenue called the Fillmore. Heard of it?"

"Yeah. They have great Bloody-mary's."

"Famous for it. My buddy Trish is the night manager. She can get me cheap rates. Saturday night at 8, go to the desk and ask for a message for John (the name I gave her). I'll take care of the rest."

"I'd like to help pay."

"You can't pay, but if things work out, you can buy breakfast."

And with that she logged off. I'm not sure what happened after that, I think I intended to head to bed, but I know I fell asleep in my recliner and had dirty, dirty dreams of a girl with no face that smelled like coffee with blue hair and warm skin.

I woke to the usual sounds of Dana getting ready in the morning. I was still in my sweats and had grabbed another shirt from the laundry before heading up to my bedroom. I'd started sleeping in another room when I gained all that weight. She said my snoring kept her up, so away I went. Ultimately, it was a good thing; if I wasn't going to get sex, at least I didn't need to get teased by sleeping next to her. Hell, it'd been 6 months or so since I'd even seen her naked. 

I showered, shaved and dressed for work in the spare room. Every room had it's own bathroom, and that suited Dana just fine. I opened my room's door to the hallway just as she was closing hers. She looked stunning in a light gray skirt suit and white dress shirt. She was beautiful, but the scowl on her face said she didn't see the same in me.

"Morning," I croaked

"Good of you to actually use your bed." She was a beautiful roommate, but definitely a grumpy one.

"I got caught up in some online game." It was nearly true. I shrugged my shoulders and she shook her head in obvious disgust.

"Well we have dinner with Lori and Dale tonight at 1845. I've already talked to Jon and he's added it to your schedule. He said you are light today, so no canceling. Dale's your oldest friend. Don't cancel on him." With that, she checked her phone and began typing furiously on it's screen as she navigated the stairs to the living room on autopilot. 

Work was work. I had nothing real to do, and all day to get it done. Well, that and think of my adventurous barista all day. At a meeting I found myself doodling her name, though even I was pretty sure it was bullshit, and when Jon told me he was going, I found my self alone in my office. Emboldened by the thought of my impending adultery, I decided to get a some new clothes to go with my new fake life. 




Stepping Out



I had a couple hours before dinner, so I hit a clothes store I liked, where I bought an extremely nice pair of jeans and a white linen button up shirt and a pair cowboy boots with the help of a nice blonde sales woman. The collar was a little wide for my liking, and the boots looked a little out of place here in the city, but the sales lady said everything was all the rage. A black leather jacket that reminded me of the Cafe Racer I used to own rounded out the outfit. Freed of most of the cash I had on hand, and loaded with a few bags, I headed to the car and then to the restaurant.

"Dale, man, It's great to see you. How's Florida been treating you?" Dale was my best friend from college. We studied, partied, drank, and womanized our way through our freshman year together. Then I met Dana, and he met Lori. The four of us were immediately fast friends and stuck with each other through the rest of college. Dale got a job in Florida, and we stayed here. The rest was history. Lori and Dale Still had the relationship everyone wished they had. Dana and I had traded ours in for a far too nice penthouse apartment.

"Florida's been great. Got my hands in lots of pies, and my cash in a bunch of banks." he had a wide smile and we hugged like the old friends we were.

"I'm just getting to the cruise control part, myself. Soon, I'll have underlings like we used to be, and I can get a place in Florida." He laughed and I hugged Lori. She hadn't changed, just like Dana, and was still the top heavy, curvy Latina that Dale had fell for oh so long ago. 

"Good to see you, lady." We hugged.

"Good to see you too," her words were genuine and her hug long and warm. 

I hugged Dana, and reveled at her warmth. It was something I hadn't felt in quite a while. "Good to see you babe."

"I'll have to thank Jon for clearing your schedule." She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

Dinner was full of the small talk of long friends and the banter of fellow businessmen. Dale had excelled in real estate law and now owned a number of buildings and companies throughout the larger cities of Florida. He was likely worth more than I was, and it was all self made. And still he and Lori still looked like they loved each other.

When the girls excused themselves off to an always mysterious group bathroom trip, Dale and I talked frankly.

"You guys just don't look like you used to, Jake," Dale said, swirling his single malt in it's glass. "Dana barely looks at you, and you look at all the other women in the room."

I took a sip of my Merlot and watched the legs trail down the insides of the glass before I answered.

"Things got fucked up a while back, Dale," I began. "I got the new job, started working more and we started working apart. Then she got busy and in response I got busier. It snowballed, and now I am reduced to looking at porn and debating the merits of online dating."

Dale looked a bit dejected, and shook his head. Dana was as good a friend to him as I was. 

"I know, Dale, it's shitty, and honestly I USED to respect her. Anymore, she treats me like shit, and secretly, we both know we made our money AFTER we got married, so I think we're just biding our time before the divorce because it will be hell."

"That's no answer, man, and you know it."

"No shit, I know it. I spent the last few days chatting online with a woman a few years younger than I am, feeling sexier to her, online after twenty minutes, than my own wife who would just as soon I skipped coming home."

"Maybe you guys need a change of scenery. Get out of here for a month. Go somewhere where there's nothing to do but talk and try not to get sunburned."

I took another sip. "I'll give it some thought."

Just as I finished my sentence the girls returned.

"Give what a thought?" Dana said, a smile on her face.

I spoke up. "Dale was just giving me some pointers. He's always been the business guy. Apparently, I need to think less about diversifying and more about improving the quality of the portfolio I have."

Dale smiled. "Well phrased."

"Well," Lori said. "Dana and I have been talking and I'm going to steal her away for a couple days. Dale has meetings all day tomorrow, and I have a spa day booked. I'll call Muriel in the morning and add Dana. Then I want to run down state for a day for some shopping, and I need an accomplice."

"You mean someone to keep you from spending all of my money," Dale said with a smirk. He and Lori kissed sweetly. 

Dana smiled at the affection. "I may not be the girl you are looking for, Dale. I've been putting off my own retail therapy for a while now. I have a feeling that our Credit Cards may take a beating this weekend."

Lori and Dana laughed at that. I found myself smiling as well.

"That will actually work out pretty well," I said. "I have some briefs to go over for the Mitsuhama guys that should take all day tomorrow. Dale, want to meet Sunday evening for dinner?"

"Holy crap, a guy's night?" He joked. "Whatever will we do without chaperons?"

I looked at Dana. She really was radiant when she was happy. "Maybe we can do dinner again before you guys fly out, say at the Warf, for old times sake?"

Dana frowned, ever so briefly, then smiled again. "That's a great idea. Their crab cakes are to die for."

Lori smiled, "Oh god, I'm not sure my hips need the grease. A girl's gotta watch her figure."

Dale hugged her close. "Your hips are perfect, and I watch your figure all the time. You don't need to."

At home, it went back to being an ice storm. "Why don't you ever talk to me like Dale talks to Lori?"

"I don't know, Dana... Maybe it's because I haven't seen you naked since '09?"

"You're such a dick." She delivered that cold and curt, and stomped off up stairs.

I walked in to the den and dinked around on my Tablet until sleep took me away.

I woke at 8am and Dana had already gone. The kitchen smelled of coffee. There was a note by the half full pot. 

~Sorry, Dana.~

I shook my head. Guess she couldn't go shopping with a guilty conscience. I showered, trimmed all appropriate body hair, and packed a small backpack with some overnight things. And a box of condoms. No need to be careless. Well, even more careless.

I wasted the day driving around the city, doing a bit of shopping and looked at a new BMW at a dealership. I wasn't in the market, but I just wanted to walk around a bit. I did go by the office and I DID actually go over the Mistuhama stuff, but it only took an hour. When I was done, it was 715, so I logged off my computer and headed to the car. 

The drive only took 20 minutes, so I had the Valet take the car to the car park and I headed to the bar. I ordered a gin and tonic and nursed it a bit, waiting for the clock to strike 8.

Right at 8, I paid my tab, two G&T's later and headed to the night desk. I was dressed much different than I usually liked in the new clothes I had purchased. I wasn't over dressed for this hotel, but I was dressed like I was a good bit younger than I was. I was in pretty good shape, however, so it didn't come off as too fake. My cowboy boots clomped over the fine tile of the hotel lobby.

A pretty brunette greeted me, I could see the name Trish on her name-tag.

"Hi, Trish. Do you have a message for John?" I put my back pack on the floor next to my feet.

"Oh," she said. "You're John." She looked me up and down. "Well, she has good taste."

She reached into her pocket and produced a room key and a long thin flower box.

"Room 505, top floor. Down the hall, right next to the bar is the closest elevator."

"Thanks,Trish." I slung my back pack over a shoulder and headed toward the elevator. I could see her on the phone in the reflection of the mirror shined marble column I was walking by. Guess she warned my barista.

In the elevator I opened the box finding a small card sitting on top of a single red rose packed on top of some white tissue paper. 

'John, walk into the room, then look under this flower.

-Lori"

Hmm... 'Mysterious. And the girl now has a name.' I thought to myself.

I decided to play the game and managed not to look the whole walk to the room. I tucked the box under my arm and stood in front of the door. My heart was pounding. I was pretty sure she could hear it through the closed door. I reached out with the card and noticed my hand shaking. I shook it, like it would make a difference and inserted the card into the lock. There was an impossibly loud click I pushed the door open. 

The room was dimly lit by several candles throughout the room. It was a beautiful room, but the most beautiful thing of all was standing by the window. A thin woman in the white teddy with the black lace trim I'd seen on her posts was looking out, her back and her blue wig to me.

I stepped in and closed the door. I saw her flinch with the click of it's closing. I didn't say a word, not wanting the spell to be broken. Burdened, I suddenly realized that I was carrying things. I sat my bag onto the floor, then opened the box again. I dropped the lid to the floor, and lifted the rose and the paper. Underneath was a black silk blind fold and another note. 

'Strip down and put the blindfold on. I'll keep mine on too, I promise. We'll take it from there. And no talking... at least at first.

Suddenly, music flooded the room. I saw her put down a small remote that must have been for the room music system. I put the blindfold half on, securing the elastic behind my head and the front onto my forehead, then I began to undress.

Totally naked I pulled the mask down and made sure I couldn't see a thing. Slowly, I walked toward her, my hand out in front of me just a little. When I touched her wig, I took another step and extended my hands out. She backed into me, and my slowly growing member found the cleft of her buttocks. Her warmth was heavenly and I soaked it in. I buried my face in her wig, the smell of coconut flooded my senses. My hands drug slowly up and down her arms and shoulders. I could feel her shaking a little, barely perceptible tremors. I was feeling the same way. I moved my hands to her neck and massaged her like I'd learned in the massage class I'd taken recently. I had intended to use my new skills on Dana, but she'd never given me the chance.

Lori appreciated my attention and let out a long 'Mmm' as I worked. I could feel some of the tension leave her, and she leaned back into me, her hands reached back and grabbed my thighs. 'MmMmm,' she said. I laughed softly. She teasingly worked her butt against my hardness. I twitched at the stimulation and involuntarily thrust a little toward her. This time, the 'Mmm" was mine. 

I reached in front of her and ran my hands across her collar bones and down onto her breasts. They were full, and soft in my hands. I could feel the nipples harden with my touches, the metal bars fun new toys to play with. God how I loved that. She reached behind herself and found me with her hands. Slowly she stroked me, as I kneaded her breasts.

It was the single most sexy thing I had ever experienced. There was something about being so intimate with a stranger, and yet so determined to have her feel the same pleasure I was feeling. I turned her around and found her chin with my hands. I lined up and kissed her on the mouth. She tasted of lip gloss and minty mouthwash with a hint of alcohol. Her lips were perfection, her tongue a teasing warmth that toyed with my lips and tongue. She grabbed onto my hips as we kissed. There was so much passion and lust, it nearly hurt. She walked us backwards and we fell, unceremoniously onto the bed. It had a nice memory foam top and was just the right height. We re-positioned ourselves, side by side, and returned to making out. Hands caressed, hips thrust and legs intertwined.

I finally let her mouth go, and found her breast with my mouth. I took the end of each one in my mouth and suckled it through the silk cloth. I could feel the bar through the nipple and teased it with my tongue. She crushed my head into her breast with a hand, holding me to her. I turned her onto her back and drug the teddy over her head. She helped then returned to her back. I felt out her breast again and suckled it again, kneading the other with my free hand. I was hard as a nail and stabbed into her thigh. She reached down and pulled me into a kneeling position. I continued with her breasts, switching from side to side. She stroked me gently, her thin fingers knowing just how I liked to be touched. I'm not sure where she found one, but she slid a condom onto me and used it to stroke me until I couldn't wait any longer.

I kissed my way down her belly, and she took a sharp inhale of breath as I blew onto where her legs met. I moved between her legs and leaned down. I still couldn't see anything, but I could smell her musky scent and it drove me crazy. 

I intended to go at it slowly, tease her, and work her over tenderly. I simply couldn't resist what was before me. "I've gotta taste you," I whispered, breathlessly, and dove in. 

My tongue immediately found her folds and ran up and down them. I lapped at her like an animal. Long, deep licks. I pointed my tongue at the top so I caught her button just a bit, and flicked it. Then I started back at the bottom, repeating slowly. Her hips moved and bucked a little. I was supporting my self with one hand, but the other I moved so it could play with those cool little nipple bars. As I worked her clit over, suckling on it, and teasing it, I switched from one nipple to the other. I used my lips on hers, tugging, teasing and toying, then resumed my work lapping away. She ran her fingers through my hair and encouraged me with her sounds. 

"Fuck, that's hot," she hissed, quietly. "Just like that. Don't stop."

Loving being told what to do, I kept at it, licking with long strokes, and flicking at the top. She flinched every time I hit her button, and all of a sudden, she pulled me up to her. 

I entered her smoothly, to the hilt into her wetness.

"Oh, god, fuck me good..." She whispered into my shoulder, her heels digging into my ass, like a jockey. 

I started up a good rhythm, long hard strokes. She sped up the pace, her heels helping me speed up. I could feel every ripple and contraction in her. Her breathing got faster and faster.

"Oh, fuck... Oh fuck." She was nearly begging. My hips were banging away, the long hard strokes were pulling the orgasm out of both of us.

"Yeah, baby, cum for me," I encouraged, my voice a breathy whisper.

Her orgasm sounded like one for the record books, and mine thundered behind my eyes like I've never experienced. Several long moments went by, I was supporting my self on my arms, still buried to the hilt with no signs of going soft. I could feel her hand on my face. I leaned on one arm and put my hand on her face. Slowly we pulled the masks off of each other.

There, looking up at me was my beautiful wife. The sexy woman I hadn't seen naked in forever, tears running down her face as she realized, as I was, just what was going on. 

She pulled my face to hers, sobbing softly. "I'm glad it was you... I'm glad it was you..."

"Me too, baby." I was crying my self. Happy beyond belief, and, in all honesty, relieved. "Me too."

"So, I thought this was going to be a guy's night." I'd just told Dale that the girls were on their way.

"Yeah, well, remember the girl I was chatting with?"

Dale kind of scowled.

"Well, we're going to Honduras for a month next month. The Senior partners granted me some much needed leave."

"And you are running off to cheat. In Honduras?" Dale was visibly pissed.

The girls arrived just as he was about to get animated.

Lori sat down and asked, "Who's going to Honduras?"

Dana answered for me. "Jake and I. We decided that we needed some us time. We'd put ourselves on the back burner for too long." 

I smiled at Dale, and Dana winked at him. Suddenly he got it.

Lori smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "I don't like lying to you, baby, but Dana needed a cover to go see this guy she had been talking online to, and I agreed to help her out. Thing was, Jake was the guy and they... well, lets just say they reconnected."



Stepping Out



Author's note: I apologize for the typo in the title of my first submission – Personal Assistance. Not a good way to start! I hope you will forgive me and enjoy the submissions, anyway, for what they're worth. Thanks – Jazz



 Gwen had no idea her husband was stepping out on her. That's why she felt so guilty as she let herself into the hotel room. Still, she was now used to those initial pangs of guilt. She dimmed the lights, and got undressed. It still amazed her. Reclining on the bed, she began going over, in her head, the events leading up to this. 

To start – what was it? Three, almost four months ago? – her wild friend, Flora, had talked her into meeting a client for her because she was in a jam. Sounded simple enough.

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"Flora?" the man had asked as she opened the hotel room door to his knock.

"No," she'd replied, apologetically. "Flora's going to be just a little bit late. She asked me to meet you and keep you company until she gets here. I'm Gwen." She had smiled warmly at him – he was very handsome, ruggedly so, she thought. "I hope that's all right."

His answering smile had been almost predatory. "That'll be just fine," he had purred – a growl, actually, deep in his throat.

He'd come into the room and surveyed it as Gwen went to fix him a drink. As she'd turned to hand it to him, he'd reached with his other hand and stroked the side of her breast. Surprised, she had giggled nervously and brushed his uninvited touch off. "Now, now," she'd admonished, trying to make light of her protest; but, as he'd taken a sip of his drink he'd reached out again and placed his hand firmly on Gwen's hip.

Pulling her toward the settee, he'd murmured, "Join me." Gwen hadn't wanted to make a fuss, and expecting Flora to show up imminently, she'd lifted his hand from her skirt, then sat primly next to him. Right away his arm had gone around her shoulders. Gwen had begun to get flustered, trying desperately to fend off his advances without giving offense. She'd stared vacantly about the room for help.

"You seem nervous," he had whispered in her ear, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "You must be new."

"I – uh – I just – I'm just here to – um – help Flora out," Gwen had sputtered. She had stiffened as his hand slipped down off her shoulder to cup, once again, to the side of her boob.

While he'd nursed his drink, the stranger had made idle small-talk. His groping and fondling had continued enough to require Gwen to dodge and sway, as she'd playfully batted his hands away, giggling nervously. She hadn't quite been able to figure out how she'd gotten into this, nor what she should do. Perplexed, she had wondered, "What would Flora do if she were here?" Then she'd known! She'd known exactly what Flora would do! She'd known exactly what Flora did! 

Mind you, understanding that hadn't helped her situation at the time, and she had felt herself drifting under the stress and stimulation – projecting herself, until, suddenly, she was observing 'the dance' objectively. Gwen had been surprised to watch herself responding calmly to the persistent advances of her partner. She'd watched as he teasingly reached for her breasts, flipped her hair, ran his hand up her legs, touched her cheek, all the while laughing with her at her ineffective defensive moves. Indeed her resistance was initially token. She didn't want to make a fuss, and she'd fully expected to be rescued by Flora at any moment.

Gwen had been even more surprised to find herself getting aroused – not just from the physical sensations of his persistence but by the very odd circumstances, as well. 

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And now, at the continuing recollection, a warmth swept over her.

She had acquiesced a little at a time. First tolerating his hand to brush across her clothed nipples – which, in itself, sparked an unholy arousal – before allowing him to gently squeeze – grope – her breasts through her blouse. Then, almost in a trance, she had let him undo the buttons of her top. He'd, naturally, almost casually, slipped a hand under her bra. She had barely been able to stand the heat generated by his subtle manipulations. The cool air on her tits, as he deftly removed her brassiere, had been an almost welcome relief, but only for a moment. The fire had flared, as he began nuzzling her swelling boobs, licking and nipping at her engorged nipples; it'd suddenly blazed up blindingly from deep in her chest to sear her brain. She remembered feeling her grip on reality slipping, being burned away.

Keeping his mouth firmly fastened to her right tit, hanging onto her bud with his teeth, he had reached under her skirt to grab her ass and squeeze. Gwen'd felt her head roll back as an animalistic whimper escaped from her lips. She had had to steady herself on his shoulders to keep from collapsing. Smoothly, one of his hands had swept under her to caress her already moistened pussy through her panties. When he'd pulled the damp material aside to push a digit between her slick nether-lips, something inside her had ignited, and she'd wrapped her arms around his head, gathering him securely into her heaving bosom. Without being conscious of it actually 'happening' she had become aware on her situation. For a few beats she'd been objectively watching herself virtually naked on a bed with a complete stranger.

The sheer naughtiness of it all had fired her libido hotter than she had ever been, and had rocketed her awareness back into the here and now – back into her corporeal self. And there, he'd been sucking and biting her nipples mercilessly, drawing his fingers though her ever-moistening furrow. The stimulation had been almost excruciating, tossing, or so it seemed, her soul into the midst of an explosion. The massive orgasm had hit unexpectedly, with an intensity she had never even imagined was possible – "Oh, oh, oh! Yes! Yes! No! Yes! Oh, God! So good! Oh! Ah! Ah, AH, AIYEEEEEAH! Yesssssss!" – and that was the first of many – that afternoon, and since.

He'd sat up, grinning, and pulled at the rest of their clothing, until he had them both naked, then, rolling atop, he had entered her swiftly – strong and assured – his iron hardness battering the walls of her womb, detonating another climax fast on the brief denouement of the first. Taking her to a place beyond anything she had ever experienced, it had blotted out reality, obscured any rational thought. She'd been carried along for long, long minutes by the crashing surf of afterglow, as he'd continued thrusting, holding his own release in abeyance while working her irrevocably toward yet another climax.

At that time, Gwen was not exceedingly experienced with oral sex, but somehow, as he'd rolled off her and lay still for a moment, on his back, she'd understood the twinkle in his eyes and the almost imperceptible nod of his head. Still quivering from the tremendous climax echoing through her core, she had crawled between his legs and gone down on him with a gusto that surprised her. Before they were done, he had fucked her twice more – with amazing vigour. She had had several more orgasms in the process. As he'd pounded into her the last time – she, lying with her lips on his chest, her fingers on his nipples – she'd felt the excited warmth of him press against her nose. "What am I doing?" The question had flitted across her awareness, but was quickly replaced by the detonation of yet another orgasm.

Lying on the bed, basking in a level of mellow afterglow she had never experienced, she had watched the stranger dress and leave. He'd muttered nice things to her, and left something on the nightstand. She realized she didn't know his name; nor did she need to. In fact, she had never even kissed him – not on the lips, in any case. Talk about your zipless fuck! As he'd left the room, he'd met Flora coming in. They'd exchanged words, at the door, then he had vanished. Flora had approached her, lying there, almost spread-eagle, amidst the crumpled bedding, naked and supremely satisfied.

"I'm so sorry that I'm late. I really didn't mean to leave you in the lurch like that," Flora raced to explain. "I only thought I'd be a few minutes late." Gwen had said nothing, at first – only watched, eyes half-mast. Flora's face cracked a sly smile. "You looked like you survived all right, though." Then she'd added, under her breath, "You've certainly got that well-fucked look about you!"

Serious once again, Flora had gone on, "I didn't mean for you to find out about me – my occupation – this way."

Gwen raised herself onto her elbow. "S'okay," she'd murmured. "It was fun!" Then, giving her mussed hair a shake, she'd purred, "Who am I kidding? It was fa-abulous!!"

Flora called herself a call-girl, but that was just a euphemism for high-priced, perhaps exclusive, prostitute; the client was a john. In her, albeit brief, explanation, it turned out Flora worked within a loose association of five 'ladies' with Miriam, the dispatcher, who saw herself, if somewhat erroneously, as the madam.

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Reminiscing, lounging on the bed, waiting for her next 'client', Gwen recalled highlights of her journey so far. The high of anonymous, illicit sex that first time had just blown her mind. Her climaxes had been unbelievable. She had objectively inspected her feelings and had detected, surprisingly, only a giddy invigoration, not the guilty confusion she'd expected; so, instead of complaining to her tardy friend, she'd wondered about doing it again. "Maybe, just once?" 

"Well," Flora had chuckled. "He," she'd nodded toward the door, "would see you again." She'd let that sentence hang in the air between them.

And therein was the critical decision. Gwen could have shaken her head – no! She could have smiled, got dressed, and walked away. She could have chalked it up to a lapse in judgement, a unique experience, a one-off. "Oh?" she had queried instead, sitting up. "When?"

Flora had warned her about stepping onto a slippery slope, but acceded to her request. "Let me know when you're available. I'll talk to Miriam; we'll call with details." Although it didn't dawn on her just then, at that moment, she had become a professional. Notwithstanding, Gwen had paid little mind to the pile of bills left on the night stand.

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The second time was just as good – in some ways even better. Same client – just as anonymous – just as satisfying.

By the end of her second encounter she was actually hooked, and once she was hooked, it right away became a weekly thing – mind you, that had progressed fairly quickly to twice a week. But, it was never about the money, only the high. And the anticipation of pleasure far overshadowed all consideration of wrong-doing. She still marveled at the truth of it all. Here she was, an affluent, middle-class, forty-something housewife and mother of two. Her business as a freelance graphic artist routinely got her out of the house, and that gave her flexibility. A regular at the gym, she stayed in good shape, but never really ever thought of herself as beautiful or glamourous. And suddenly she was a – what? – call girl? Whore? A wry, almost sad, smile skipped across her lips.

Gwen had coined Wendy as her working name – although, as it turned out, she rarely ever used her pseudonym or her name in her liaisons – and, as Wendy, she had refined and defined her idiom. Getting undressed before the 'client' arrived, dimming the room by closing the curtains and leaving just one bedside lamp burning; then setting the door slightly ajar just before the appointed time, before lying in her tiny, sexy undies, sprawled alluringly on the turned-down bed – it had all become part of her established routine. 

At one point, that very first time, with her very 'accidental client', she had moved to kiss him, but he'd turned aside, muttering that he was there for sex, not love. Interestingly that had made some degree of sense to her even then, and she had later incorporated it into her own style; so that now she almost never kissed clients on the lips. 

Gwen always had her workout gear with her. Although it hadn't happened yet, she figured 'going to the gym' would easily explain her freshly-showered and invigorated demeanour, if anyone ever questioned her after an encounter. Early on, she'd shaved her bush, leaving just a 'landing strip' above her vulva. She'd explained that to her husband as having got the idea from a women's magazine – better for sweaty works out, or something. He'd accepted it as a rather attractive curiosity.

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"What a ride it's been, so far; what an experience," she mused.

So many different times – trysts? Tricks? Liaisons? And all memorable – each in its own way, although not all as smooth as one might want. 

Early on, after she'd been doing it maybe a month or so, the client – 'john' as it were – had become frustrated. She had felt the anger building in his hammering thrusts, as she'd lay on her back, holding his shoulders, tits jiggling wildly. Hooking her ankles over his butt, she'd sensed a pulsing arousal growing within her fundament. Suddenly, with an anguished growl, he'd stopped. Pulling her hands from his shoulders, he'd abruptly pulled out, then shuffled and hopped his knees up over her shoulders, trapping her arms, and jammed his swollen penis into her mouth, entwining his fingers in her hair, and brutally feeding her the length of his impressive erection.

Panic had flared as the cock-head filled her throat. She'd grabbed a breath as he withdrew momentarily before continuing, relentlessly, the violent mouth-fucking. But before she could complain, her arousal had blazed, building toward a crisis, as the pounding, anonymous prick slammed into the back of her throat. "Mmmmpff! Mmmmpff! Gugh!" Her muffled, gagging grunts, emphasizing each thrust, ran counterpoint to his staccato gasps and groans.

"Unh! Shit! Unh! Oh fuck!" His rod had grown and twitched, getting harder and seemingly longer as it slammed relentlessly in and out, between her rounded lips and over her tongue, bashing her tonsils! But with every stroke the sensation had intensified, until the impending climax had almost made her crazy. She had felt like Linda Lovelace in Deep Throat, every push of the oral assault inflamed her. After minutes of punishment, the attacking tool had swelled to fill her, almost suffocating her. Ignoring her distress, the client had pulled her hard against his pubes, and held her until she almost passed out. "Aaaahhhhh!" The prolonged ejaculation, the pumping of cum down her throat, had given her no choice but to swallow – swallow or drown. And that strong, violent climax, spurting copiously into her gullet, had triggered in her a massive orgasm – literally the most powerful climax she had ever experienced – by far – thus far!

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Gwen smiled at the thought of that. But it was true, even now, most – virtually all – of her orgasms were as intense as or more intense than any she had had up to that point. So the best just kept getting better and better. The 'most intense orgasm of her life' occurred with amazing frequency.

Interestingly, it had only been a few weeks ago that she had had her first black client. And it hadn't, in her mind at least, started out too well. The memory played across her thoughts like a video clip.

As he had entered from the dimness of the entry hall into the halo of the bed, he was already exercising an arrogant swagger. "Hey, hey, hey! Look what we have here." His flipping hand gesture made it unclear as to whether he was talking about Gwen – sprawled invitingly across the bed – or himself. His next line cleared that up quickly. "Snowy white girl like you, you ever had a feast o' black meat?"

"Can't say as I have,' Gwen had replied trying hard to hide her already growing dislike of the man. 

He'd actually said, flashing a preternaturally bright smile, "You know, once you have black you can't never go back." And as lame as that was, he'd then put on a faux southern accent and said, as he removed his jacket, opened his collar, and took off his tie, "Baby, you're just gonna love this!" As he focused on getting naked, Gwen had rolled her eyes, and given a disbelieving shake of her head. She had pretty much resigned herself to a session of bullshit.

Concealing her distaste, Gwen had watched him carefully fold his clothes over the chair, and she'd had to admit, he'd disrobed with a certain kind of grace. Once undressed, he'd revealed a rather rampant erection. There was no denying that the black scepter rekindled her waning erotic interest. "Now that's rather curiously attractive," she'd thought to herself.

Watching his sturdy licorice-stick, bouncing as it led him towards her, she'd reached out as he sat down on the edge of the bed, and met him with her fingertips, fairy-touch light on his biceps. They'd studied one another for a silent moment: she, white and pristine – ready; he, black and imposing, but tentative – surprisingly unsure. Maybe it was just nerves, for her caresses had mellowed him almost immediately – his swagger and attitude had dissolved into irrelevance. She'd been surprised, too, by her own response to the touch – a rapidly growing arousal.

In that moment, as he'd mirrored her, softly touching his fingers to her arms, Gwen had marveled at the contrasts – his black against her white – piano keys. Then he'd leaned toward her, and she'd moved to meet him, body against body. She'd run her fingers over his chest, stopping for an instant to circle his nipples. Continuing her descent, she'd swirled her hands across his chiseled abs, then raked her fingers through the tight curls of his forest, taking his impatient schlong into her hand with a gentle squeeze. She had felt the heat emanating from his skin as she leaned in to kiss his breasts. Curiously, it'd seemed like his heat ignited within her a burst of passion that grew into a novel and sensuous inflammation. Her skin had tingled, as sparks twinkled along her limbs. She'd felt alive and charged, and bright against his darkness – his unknown, anonymous darkness. There was still an unfathomable excitement in the naughtiness of the whole thing.

Holding his erection still for a moment she'd watched it jerk slightly in her grip, then she'd lowered her head to take it slowly into her mouth. She'd almost expected a flavour as she inserted his twitching stiffness into the perfect 'O' of her full lips. Drawing him in slowly as she descended, she'd collapsed her cheeks slightly, to slide her wet mouth along the rippled surface of his prick. As she touched bottom, feeling him at the back of her throat, she'd bounced a bit to ensure he was fully ensconced. 

His growing arousal had been evident in the way his rigidity vibrated at the back of her throat, as she took him fully past her tongue and into her throat in one smooth motion. His fingertips had played softly at the side of her head, not presuming for an instant that she needed guidance; more to keep a tactile perspective – one that was still fixed to reality.

Gwen remembered being pleased with her burgeoning skills in oral sex. Only weeks earlier she'd been a bit of a neophyte. "Now look at me," she'd thought as the slurped him into her, slipping easily past her controlled gag-reflex, then grasping the forested base of his root with her full warm lips. Even now, reminiscing, she was proud of her evolution from blow-job amateur to felatio expert.

She'd flexed her throat muscles to grip his glans, causing his hips to twitch and sending shivers through his body. When her sealed lips brushed against his wiry bush, she'd set a vacuum in her mouth, drawing her cheeks in, drawing her inner cheeks tight against the veiny surface of his hardness. Gripping him with the warm smoothness of the inside of her mouth, caressing him with her tongue, she could massage his trembling root with the very least movement of her head – indeed with the slightest, involuntary twitches of his rod. Twisting herself about his tool, she had stroked him continually, rubbing her inner cheeks radially around him.




Stepping Out



Occasionally she'd pulled back, until the rim of his helmeted head had rested just inside her lips, and let her tongue swirl over and about his glans, before plunging forward again, taking him fully and deeply into her throat. He'd whimpered in his urgency as she played him like a harp, until, finally, his breath had become ragged, his hips'd begun to buck; his cock twitched and shuddered.

Although it seemed impossible, she'd felt him swell even more. His hands had gradually, as if moving on their own accord, fixed their grip over her ears. Slowly but firmly he'd pulled her onto him and held her tight. The orbiter had landed! At that moment he'd begun pumping, spurting quantities of semen into her gullet. Threatening to drown her, it took all her resolve to stay focused – stay with the program. And it went on and on, torrents of seed, filling her pharynx, backwashing into her mouth, menacing her back nasal passages.

Still, the liquid warmth hitting her throat and flowing into her tummy, had ignited a huge orgasm that had built inside her, roiling up and down her spine, intensifying with every splash of cum, gushing into her. Gwen had felt herself convulse uncontrollably. Hanging off and spinning around his peg, she'd seemed to be jetting away from the present, into some other plane. In retrospect, she was surprised she hadn't bitten him – or torn him off.

Flopping about between his legs, she'd returned ever so slowly to earth. It had been an oral orgasm for the record books, at the very least. Eventually they'd resurfaced together, and glancing up at his face – his white smile gleaming sheepishly down at her, she'd gently resumed bobbing, dragging her lips up and down his cock. After a couple last, lethargic shudders, he'd been still. Gwen noticed that he'd hardly gone down at all. Finally pulling off him, she'd stared at his still rampant prick. Even now, she was impressed at how little of its integrity his erection lost.

After paying homage to the persistently upright woodie, Gwen recalled, she'd shuffled her knees up his hips and swung her legs over to impale herself on his throbbing sword; eager to try it 'cowgirl' again – a recent addition to her repertoire of sexual positions. Her pussy dripping and ready, she'd engulfed him fully in one swift plunge. And there was a bit of palpable magic when she pushed her waiting pussy onto him. The now-you-see-it, now-you-don't of his glistening blackness slipping into her, seemed surreal. He'd filled her nicely, and by his responses, both active and verbal, he'd appreciated it.

She had played her white fingers across his chest, twiddling and pinching at his nipples. He'd cupped her pale breasts with his dark hands, in turn mauling and caressing, playing with her stiff buds. The attention to her breasts had been just like blowing gently on a flame to get a fire underway. Rising and falling, raising and lowering, up and down, Gwen had fucked him at an almost leisurely speed. There was no urgency, now. It just felt good, for him, too – she knew it, and she could see it in his eyes.

Eventually however, her thighs had begun to flag. As wonderful as it was, she'd needed to change position, so she had taken his shoulders and rolled, like a wrestler, to the side, dragging him over and on top of her, without releasing his member. Pulling him into, so-called, missionary position, she'd thrusted her hips to seat him fully once more, then begun rocking and squirming beneath him – her mission was to fuck him and fuck him well! She had felt him jerk and shudder as he'd regained the path to climax, and she'd felt herself blazing the way – her pre-ignition sequence, quickly getting well underway. The snapping and sizzling of sparks, along her nerves, criss-crossing and pinballing helter-skelter within, had promised a satisfying climax, soon.

Gwen had hooked her heels over his lower back and held him tight, relaxing as he'd retreated then pulling him in hard as he'd reinserted. Plunging and withdrawing, he fell into a dynamic rhythm that worked. Gwen had controlled the speed, communicating through her fingers at his shoulders, and varying vaguely the intensity of her pelvic thrusts as she rocked her hips to meet each push. Working on his second climax, he had demonstrated a bit of staying power, so they'd thrusted and heaved for many minutes – the beast with two backs, convulsing on the bed. He'd managed one more orgasm for himself – vocal and frenetic, gushing profusely, and filling her up – as well as couple of mild ones for her. He had been satisfied – so had she.

In the final analysis, while he was neither the biggest nor the best, he was still pretty damn fine! And to be fair, he was just a week after her first experience with anal intercourse – and there was another story!

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Gwen reflected on the multitude of 'firsts' this new chapter of her life was collecting: first – affair? No, well, let's call a spade a spade – first adultery; first anonymous sex; first multiple orgasms; first ... what? – prostitution? – okay then, we'll call a spade a fucking shovel – first whoring; first black lover – well, not lover exactly, but sexual partner; first swallowing; first anal; first time fucking in several novel and imaginative positions. Gathering new experience upon new experience, she wondered what would be next.

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"Yeah," Gwen recollected, a smile creeping onto her lips, her first anal intercourse, last week, had been wild, to say the least.

They had been fully involved, actively doing it doggy-style, and super-aroused. He'd been diamond drill rigid, pounding into her upturned quim, as she'd rocked vigorously back against him, soaring higher and higher towards an orgasm, that, when it had hit, had drained the strength from her arms and dropped her head and chest onto the bed – leaving her heaving and panting and moaning.

He'd paused, as she'd hung there, like a puppet, dangling from his erection, her hips wobbling over shaky knees, then, with a sudden slap on her buttocks, he'd pulled out abruptly. As she'd tried to clear her head enough to complain, he'd peremptorily pushed his rock hard bullet against her rosebud, pulling her hips back towards himself. Weak and relaxed in the after-throes of her climax, Gwen had felt her sphincter give way, lubricated only by her fairly copious pussy juices coating his staff, she'd felt the oddness of his thick woodie, sliding in – and it'd felt more like a log than a cock. And while he had probably only pushed less than an inch in to start, she remembered thinking it'd felt more like a metre.

"Hey! No! Owww! Stop!" She'd squirmed and protested. It really had hurt, at first – but not as much as she'd expected. Yes, she'd complained for a bit, but he'd held her tight and persisted – shoving hard – a couple more inches pushed in, then he'd paused and eased back an inch or so. The moment he'd stopped, Gwen had felt a shift in sensation. The agony / ecstasy line blurred, and suddenly she didn't want him retreating. Rocking her hips, she had pushed back with her arms, chasing the fleeing erection. It had only taken an instant, but it was she who'd resumed the intrusion!

With a slow, inexorable pressure, her client had finally reached full penetration. Seating his groin flush against her buttocks, his pubic hair had flattened against her cheeks, and filled her crack. In that last quarter inch, as the rigid incursion was completed – Gwen had felt a hitherto unknown switch get tripped. Tingling flashed explosively into a further climax. Bucking back against him, she'd fallen into the grip of a huge, on-going orgasm. Crashing through her previous experiences, the overwhelming intensity of sensation had seemed to tear holes in her psyche. Her whole being felt like it had been ruthlessly exposed and left quivering. The thrill had run like shivers up and down her body. It had been another "best ever" or, more specifically "best yet" at that time; perhaps "best thus far" would be a better designation.

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But by then, she had already realized that the least of her climaxes were almost as intense as her current 'best ever', and that they very often equaled or surpassed her current personal best in intensity. Mind you, at the time, the very best was still categorically exceptional.

Lying quietly in the gloaming, the recollection of some of her recent erotic experiences banked the growing glow of her anticipation. She marveled at the multitude of cocks she had already had – the variety of shapes and sizes – and the range of skills of the various operators!

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Two – nearly three weeks ago, Gwen recalled, she had taken her biggest cock yet. Another anonymous assignation – another nameless client; however, this trick was a true swordsman. His massive cock had been apparent even before he'd undressed. Still flaccid, it'd lay like a giant serpent, coiled in the front of his briefs; released, it had hung, swinging limply, part-way down his thighs. As he approached to bed, and Gwen's waiting nakedness, it had come alive, thickening, twitching, growing visibly, almost rearing up to look around. And, once erect, it was huge – like a wrist-thick truncheon. Although, even as he'd climbed onto the bed, and poised himself to enter Gwen, it had not yet reached full rigidity.

He'd paused, allowing her to appreciate his impressive member, now jerking and wobbling of its own accord. Pushing herself up onto her elbow, Gwen had reached with her other hand, as if to give the beast a handshake. As she'd taken his meat into her grip, she'd found she couldn't close her fingers – it was that big. Applying pressure, she had felt it get stiffer – hardening and still lengthening as she'd watched in awe. Its owner had smiled down at her proudly, before pulling back out of her reach and lining himself up with her glistening pussy lips.

Lifting her legs to hold them straight up he'd moved in slowly, seating his baseball-sized head tenderly between her already slick, puffy labia. Pausing for just a split second, he had gradually increased the inward pressure, slowly but surely separating Gwen's lips, gingerly entering her moist tunnel. The helmeted head had slipped into her, past her vaginal opening with a pop – perhaps not an audible pop, but certainly a tactile 'pop'. And he'd shown consideration – and composure – in pausing his entrance frequently, allowing Gwen time to stretch and acclimatize to his colossal intrusion. 

Eventually, gradually she took most of it, pushing up against the end of her womb, pressing against her cervix. Unlike what she'd later experienced in her introduction to anal sex, there was no explosion of sensation. Initially, she'd only felt over-stuffed, barely coping with the inexorable stretching, and, if it wasn't exactly painful, it was definitely unpleasant. Gwen had felt that at any moment she would feel something tear. Ready, in fact, to call a halt, before she was injured, she'd noticed that, ever so slightly, the intense unpleasantness, was morphing into something else – a curiosity? a tingle? a stimulus? What, she couldn't quite determine. Notwithstanding, the battering ram, that lazily, relentlessly had begun sawing in and out, was now causing interesting sensations. Pleasure had come by degrees, proceeding from mildly pleasant to moderately arousing, as her client settled into a rhythm of long, slow strokes.

Gwen had, she recalled, begun building, ever so gradually, toward a climax, when he'd pulled out suddenly, without warning. And she'd felt, in that instant, bereft, gypped, robbed of the orgasm she thought she'd already earned. Before she could complain, however, he'd flipped her, silently; then, with a wonderful smoothness, stroked his baseball bat of a woodie swiftly into her now well-prepared cunt.

He'd obviously known that doggy-style better facilitated full penetration, for his insertion didn't stop until Gwen had felt his pubic hair against her bum. He'd then pulled back immediately and begun thrusting, picking up speed and intensity. And every stroke became less of an "I think I can, I think I can" ordeal, and more of an "Oh my God!" sort of building block. With every thrust his urgency seemed to increase, until finally his scrotum had slapped her clitoris.

Then came the explosion – Gwen's orgasm had hit like a missile. Her awareness had flared out into space before shrinking to an intense black-hole that bounced between her throbbing fundament and her disintegrating consciousness. At the exact instant of Gwen's climax, her conqueror had pulled himself tight and motionless, into her as far as possible, and with a guttural yell, had begun spewing what seemed like gallons of cum deep into her quim. Gwen had felt, at the very edge of her fading perception, the giant cock buck and jerk as it emptied itself into her.

Time had taken its time before it returned to the moment. As they both regained their awareness, Gwen had flopped forward onto the bed, trying to catch her breath, and pulling free of her genital support in the process. Looking over her shoulder, Gwen had had to check to see if it was really real. What she had seen was a massive tree-trunk, barely even drooping, shiny with their combined juices, and dripping semen from its still pulsing head.

Eventually, smiling wordlessly down at her, the guy, the owner of the wondrous weapon, had collapsed sideways onto the bed. His erection, standing proudly upright out of his pubic forest, had wobbled and waved, and stayed, amazingly erect.

After a bit, while Gwen had closed her eyes and bathed in the warm afterglow, he'd whispered, "Hey." Opening her eyes, deliberately moving her focus from his flagpole to his eyes and back, she'd seen his hand gesture at his hips, indicating she might try straddling him.

Gwen had known what he'd wanted although she'd never, ever done it before. She knew the position he wanted, but didn't know it was referred to as 'cowgirl'.

So, lethargically to start, she obliged – "After all, that's what I'm getting paid for!" she thought. An interesting tinge of sadness had brushed across her mind before she had turned her thoughts back to her present. After swinging herself over him, to kneel on either side of his hips, she'd had to rise up fully just to clear his swollen cockhead. Reaching beneath herself to guide him to the opening, she'd slowly lowered her still slick pussy onto his staff, carefully impaling herself.

Inch by inch, ever so slowly, his cock piercing further and further into her, she'd delicately settled onto him. It amazed her how it kept going – deeper and deeper – deeper, even, although it was hardly possible, than doggy-style. As her pubes had begun to entwine with his, she had felt his knob push, almost uncomfortably, against her cervix. It'd felt like he was trying to tickle her tonsils from within. But, that being said, he'd touched something no one else had ever touched.

Fully engulfed, she had reached the absolute limit of their union. And at that point, something snapped. Almost like a self-destruct button, an electric jolt shot up her spine to shatter her awareness, exploding her thoughts into a million shards of coloured glass. Involuntarily, she'd started to bounce frenetically on his cock, detonating mind-blowing climaxes. Yes, plural, as in more than one. Incoherent with the overwhelming sensation, she'd ridden from one climax to the next. He'd just laid there, his hands on her hips to steady her, letting her ride out her unrelenting ecstasy.

When she had finally returned to earth, she'd realized that he hadn't come during the entire time. "What about you?" she had queried.

He'd just raised his eyebrows, with an impish grin, and said, "Let's try it reversed."

Gwen had thought he meant her underneath, but in the end he'd got her positioned, sitting impaled, astride once more, but this time facing his feet. "Never done it 'reverse cowgirl'?" Gwen had just shaken her head in reply.

It was probably the record for endurance, it certainly had been for Gwen. Sometime into it he had pulled her down hard and held her firmly against his groin. She had felt him twitch and spurt, and felt a quantity of his seed ooze out of her and drip into his pubic beard. But he hadn't stopped there. Still rampant, he'd encouraged her, lifting and releasing her hips with his hands, to resume fucking. Not unexpectedly, she'd started to flag, exhaustion setting in. Sometime earlier, even before he'd turned her around, fatigue had begun to temper her climaxes. Notwithstanding, even the 'not-quite-getting-there' was fabulous!

Eventually, she could no longer summon the energy to raise herself off him, and she'd tumbled over on her side. He'd surprised her by gently cuddling for a space, before quietly leaving her on the bed as he'd dressed and left with hardly a word. With as much energy as she'd had left to consider it, his tenderness, puzzled her. And so it went.

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Lying, waiting, she marveled once again at how oddly wonderful her life had become – albeit a bit complicated. And she loved it – no, that was exactly right. She didn't love it, she craved it. It had nothing to do with love. Love was cerebral. This was primal – nothing more than primitive, brain stem sensation. She 'made love' to her husband. This was just lust – carnal and wild. It was simple fucking, or, perhaps, not-so simple.

Somehow this tangled passion had become the new normal, although there was nothing really normal about it. It was more like a new, or novel reality, though, on further consideration, it actually seemed to have very little to do with reality, either. So what had she got herself into? What had she created here? This, her current what? – experience? circumstance? whatever – it was essentially a sort of tangential reality – just touching at the edge understanding.

It was fantastic in the true sense of the word, and she was, she decided, living in a fantasy. How long it would last, she had no idea. But she suspected she was building a house of cards, and eventually some strong wind would bring it tumbling down. Still, for now, she refused to even consider that.

Interestingly enough, her best so far, that is, the experience that currently held the 'best ever' designation, had to be just last time. An excitement rumbled through her, almost like a purr, as she conjured up those most recent memories.

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The current record holder, as it were – she rarely knew names, and if she did, she quickly forgot them; she had no retention for trivia – had arrived without fanfare. In fact, it'd begun fairly benignly. He'd undressed and she'd gone down on him. Slurping and gobbling him expertly with her flourishing oral skills, she'd quickly got him fully erect. He wasn't super well-endowed; although what he had was nothing to sneeze at, he was nowhere near being a contender for biggest.

Anyway, she'd laved him and sucked him until he was standing tall, and twitching in anticipation, then she'd shuffled herself up over him, intent on exercising her abilities using her fairly recently discovered 'cowgirl' position, but he'd stopped her, and with muttered encouragement, flipped her onto her back, and drawn his quivering scepter gently to her puffy lips. It all had seemed, to begin with, surprisingly vanilla.

Oh, but he knew how to operate the equipment – fingers, lips, and tongue, as well as penis – and therein lay the crux of the experience. It rapidly became apparent, if it was vanilla, it was of the premium variety. 

His expert touch had played to her arousal like a maestro – stroking her labia, while nibbling her nipples. Jolts of electricity had sparkled through her fundament. She'd felt the rolls of her vulva swell and spread and blossom with arousal; her furrow slick with her own natural lubricants. He'd eased toward penetration in missionary position. Entering her easily, with a silky smoothness, he had commenced long slow strokes. Gwen's skin'd goose-bumped and her vaginal walls had become hyper-sensitive. The drag of his penis, slowly in and then slowly out, had been like matches being struck – either direction – adding to an already intense blaze that had taken hold in her pussy and was then spreading up her spine. He'd taken her to the precipitous edge, left her teetering, then pulled back – many, many times!




Stepping Out



It had been torture, but playful torture, not cruel, and when he did let her crash over, it'd been excruciating ecstasy! She'd had titanic climaxes – flashing like lighting, echoing like thunder, blotting out everything else.

And when he, eventually, had joined her in orgasm, she had felt the huge emission splashing her innards, scalding her deep. Slowing, but not stopping, he'd slowly resumed his trek, leading her once more towards her sexual apex.

He'd stayed, miraculously, rock-hard, and had continued slowly for the longest time. She'd continued to wax and wane, peak and retreat, sometimes reaching a climax, sometimes falling short. So, in that way, she'd orgasmed sporadically while he'd lazily sawed in and out, initially almost effortlessly. But, gradually his rhythm had accelerated, become more insistent. And while his conquest of her had never actually been frenetic, never really urgent, it'd become progressively more determined.

She'd thought she could feel him swell further. She'd been able to detect him start to shiver and shudder within her velvet grasp. Her climaxes had begun to come closer together, one on the heels of the next. Then his thrusting and plunging, the heaving of his hips, crashing against her upraised thighs had become increasingly intense. Still, there was no violence, just a hyper-activity, fomenting a sort of hyper-pleasantness.

And then the mother of orgasms awoke within her. Her perception had constricted, blackness crowded in from the edges leaving only a spot, a focus of intense white. Gwen recalled the intensity of sensation as a palpable thing centered on their connection, their connected orgasm, and obliterating her awareness of anything and everything else. She had felt her consciousness – as it pulsated – shrinking to a pinpoint, before opening like a camera lens, only to shrink again. Even now, she couldn't tell whether she'd been having one super long climax that just went on in waves, or if it was a seemingly endless series of separate orgasms, crashing over her like surf on a beach. Whatever it was, it had gone on, through a veil of rapture, for almost an hour.

The final orgasm, or the culmination – and somehow she knew this for sure – had been simultaneous with him. She'd felt his ejaculation within her womb. The warm and copious flow of his seed had further intensified, if that was even possible, her climax. Her body had been wracked with tremors of ecstasy that had left her limp and exhausted.

He'd left her inert on the bed, with quietly muttered thanks, while she'd tried, as yet unsuccessfully, to come to grips with what had just happened, indeed, what was happening. In the end she'd accepted it as just another in the continuing series of new 'personal bests!'

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While originally it had been – and she'd tried to limit it to – once or twice a week, here she was, well into her fourth month, and this was the third appointment this week, indeed she'd had three last week as well – the last couple of weeks now she thought about it.

A little part of her, at the back of her mind, suspected that this was quickly becoming unsustainable. Her work – her legitimate work, at least, was suffering. Gwen was concerned about the graphics clients she kept putting off; indeed, she worried about her whole design business which she was neglecting. Not only that, it was obviously only going to get more difficult to hide her activities from her hubby. 

Still, she kept raising the bar – meeting and exceeding the definitive experiences. How intense could they get – her best evers? Every couple of weeks she would have an orgasm that surpassed all the others, indeed, every climax between was as good or almost as good. So far she had had no disappointments! But how high could the bar actually go, before that, too, became unsustainable.

And in reality was it ascent – or descent? Maybe she was living an illusion. Was the bar actually rising, or was it sinking – into some well of depravity. "No!" she scolded herself. "That couldn't be. Don't spoil it!" It was easy, given her fantastic history, to banish all the negative thoughts. The positives easily became, as usual, overwhelming – all-encompassing, once again.

All those recollections of past tricks had stoked the flames of her seething passion. Further and further aroused by her anticipation, Gwen waited, warm in the thoughts of the high to come. To borrow a metaphor from the drug world, unlike the alleged "chasing the dragon" of a smack addiction, where the initial high is never recaptured, she was actually catching the dragon every time – as the dragon itself grew – the high getting better and better. She luxuriated in the expectation of sensations to come.

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A tap on the door.

"Come in!"

A lone, male figure enters slowly into the dimness, whispering a tentative, "Hello?"

In a sultry, liquid voice, Gwen replies, "Welcome," as he approaches the bed. 

Reaching the circle of light, he suddenly freezes. The blood drains from her face. It's her husband.

"Oh, fuck!"