2 comments/ 72175 views/ 5 favorites Jayne's Story By: gandj130 After months of enjoying my husband Gary's stories about our swinging adventures I have finally given in to his nagging and decided to write my side of things! I have read and re-read his stories and want to write about my favourite adventures over the last 18 months or so of our swinging fun. After careful thought the best swinging time for me was when we first met Ray at the club. Gary and I love group sex and I had also lusted with the thought of sleeping with a black man, so when these two fantasies came together when we met Ray I was in heaven. Gary is so pleased that I have the same sexy dreams as him; I just love to fulfill these when he is there with me. One thing always helps when I am in the mood for some fun, booze! I do like a drink to help remove my inhibitions and Gary really gets off on the drunken, sluttish way that I behave. The vodka had flowed freely during the afternoon as we got ready to go out and by 8pm on Friday evening when we arrived I guess that I had already drunk around half a bottle, Gary staying sober as he had to drive, poor thing! By the time we got there, undressed into our towels and walked back down to the bar and had another couple of drinks I was most certainly in the mood! Despite being sober Gary was up for some fun too, he leant down and kissed me passionately which took my breath away. I could feel his hand creeping up my thigh towards my pussy as we sat side by side on the barstools. "You are a dirty horny girl and plenty of single men in here for tonight," he said sliding his hand onto my pussy. "Feeling horny tonight?" Between the alcohol and his hand massaging my pussy, I had started getting wet. He continued to finger my wet pussy as I became aware of someone move and stand beside us. I turned sideways and looked up at the tall black guy, aged around 35, a few years younger than us. I felt quite at ease with myself even though I was a little older than the man standing beside us, I kept myself trim and was happy with my petite body. I also knew that my mop of thick red hair was a feature that attracted a lot of men. "Looks like you're having a good time," a deep voice said close to my ear. "We always have a good time here. We have been regulars for about 2 years and had a lot of fun," Gary answered as our new friend moved closer. "Well my name is Ray, nice to meet you both," he said. "In fact I have seen you before but not had the chance to join in with your fun. Yet!" We had indulged many of our fantasies at the club, group sex with other couples and Gary had shared me with other men and been really turned on by me being ravished by other men, yet I had still not been with a black man. We had discussed exactly this scenario and I knew Gary would be happy for Ray to join us. We chatted at the bar for a few minutes talking about the club while I looked at Ray's well-built physique, he was about 6'2" with a lithe build, looking good naked except for a towel around his waist. He glanced down at my exposed ginger haired pussy as Gary fingered my wet pussy and massaged my clit. "Will you excuse me for a minute? I just need to nip back to the changing room," Ray said smiling, all wide lips and glistening white teeth. This gave me the chance to check things with Gary, "I like him Gary and it's something we have fantasised about. Shall we have some fun?" As I waited for Gary's answer I gulped down the last of my vodka. "I'd love to see his black cock fuck you Jayne," Gary said. "I bet he'd love to sink his big black cock all the way inside you!" Gary whispering about letting another man fuck me almost sent me over the edge, I have always been turned on by dirty talk. I took Gary's hand from between my thighs and we got off the stools as Ray returned. I noticed Ray now had condoms under his elastic wristband, he was obviously feeling confident and rightly so! I was trembling and I could feel the dampness between my legs as Ray moved closer and put his hands around my waist, I could see that he already had quite a bulge under his towel. "We are going for a wander around Ray, do you want to come too?" Gary said. "I'd love to spend some time with you two, you are a very attractive woman Jayne." The three of us then just wandered around the rooms upstairs, some rooms were locked, others were empty but there was lots of fun going on in the couples only room as the three of squeezed into the dark corner and looked through the two way mirror at the couples fucking on the huge bed, my heart was pounding and I hoped in this tight dark space Ray and Gary would take the chance to feel me. I reached over to Gary and began fondling his hard cock just as Ray moved closer and I felt his hardness rub against my hip. "Do you mind?" Ray whispered as he slid his hand down over my stomach to my pussy, as Gary stood close on the other side rubbing against me squeezing my bum. I was really getting wet as I felt Ray palm my pussy in his hand. "Mm! That feels good," I whispered to Ray looking up into his eyes just as he easily slipped a finger into my soaking pussy. He pulled me close and pressed his lips passionately against mine for a deep kiss that took my breath away, Gary tightened his hold around my waist and I felt his cock pressing against my bum. The booze probably was responsible for me being so relaxed in this situation as I let this dark stranger kiss me while my husband rubbed himself against my arse. As the kiss ended I glanced down and saw Ray's cock sticking out of his towel. Ray laughed and said "You like that babe?" He took hold of my hand and placed it on his cock, "It'll get even bigger and harder if you stroke it!" "Mm! Big and hard." I murmured stroking him. Ray traced a finger down to a few inches above my belly button. "The end of my cock will be just about this deep in you, I want your pussy, I want to fuck you Jayne," Ray whispered. I groaned and felt my knees buckle a little as the two men squeezed and fondled me. I licked my lips as Gary held my thick ginger hair and spoke, "Suck it, I want you to suck his black cock, my little slut." Just for a moment I stood and hesitated and watched the couples fucking in the room in front of us as Gary gently applied pressure to the back of my head while Ray removed his towel. I had my fingers around the big dark shaft and began to slide the skin up and down gently, it was silky smooth and I had to taste it. "Suck my cock Jayne," Ray said as I dropped to my knees onto the carpeted floor and took what I could into my mouth. His cock was long and hard as a rock. I reached around and took his bum in my hands as I ran my tongue all around the head as I let it slide into my mouth. He wrapped his hand in my red hair and said, "Oh yeah baby, suck it. Oh fuck, that's good," as he gently thrust into my mouth. "Your wife really has a sweet mouth." I felt so horny on my knees sucking Ray off while my husband stood over me. I slid my lips up and down his big black cock making it shiny and glisten. I moaned out as it went deep as I got used to the size of his cock and I slurped noisily as my mouth bulged. I looked around in the darkness and saw more feet; we had attracted an audience of our own in this dark corner and there were now several other men hoping to join in on the action as they watched. I felt Gary's hands on me again as he lifted me to my feet, "come on honey, I don't want this getting too out of hand, let's find a room somewhere." He held my hand as we walked past the voyeurs, a few hands sneaking a quick feel of my pussy and tits as we squeezed by. The truth is the way I felt at that moment I could have taken them all on although this maybe might have pushed Gary a little too far! Gary held my hand as we walked only a few feet down the passage, turned and led us into a small room and locked the door behind us. Gary held me tightly in his arms, pulling my towel off at the same time as his mouth found mine, I felt his long hard cock press against my pussy as his hands massaged my breasts and pinched my nipples. I wanted to say that I loved him and I was so turned on but I couldn't speak as he continued to French kiss me. Gary continued kissing me and gently nudged me backwards until the bed hit the back of my legs and we stopped kissing as I sat back on the bed looking at the two big hard cocks pointing straight at me. "Well, I like what I see!" I said as I lay back, my legs slightly open. My husband's reaction to a black man about to fuck his wife was obvious as I looked at him smiling with his cock as hard as I've ever seen it. He's definitely not a wimpy submissive kind of man; so I knew he would want to be in the thick of it not just want to watch me be the submissive little ginger haired slut that I love to be! The bed creaked loudly as the two men clambered on to join me, I turned my legs towards Ray who took the hint and started to rub my thighs gently and then pushed me flat on the bed as his head ducked to my pussy. His mouth felt great on my pussy, I just closed my eyes and moaned. Gary holding his cock knelt over my head and I quickly closed my lips over his cock. A cock in my mouth, hands on my tits and a black man sucking my cunt. I was in heaven and needed to cum! I pulled my knees up over Ray's shoulders as he moaned between my legs and licked my clit. I wrapped my legs around him as he continued to suck at my swollen clit. Waves of lust began washing over me, our moans filled the room along with smell of sex as I lifted my head and whimpered to Gary, "Fuck me." I rolled away from Ray and turned towards my husband wanting him in me first. Gary straddled me as I guided his cock into me and he slipped in deep. He gripped my hips hard with his fingers and started fucking me deep and hard, I felt all his weight pressing me into the bed as he started whispering filth in my ear. "Have I got enough for you slut? This is what you want baby, me fucking you then Ray is going to fuck you!" I was almost delirious with pleasure as we fucked and I stared at Ray sitting beside us waiting his turn. Ray smiled as he saw me look and began stroking his hard black cock, I love to watch a man wank, I was delighted and I just stared at it. Clear fluid was oozing out of the big slit, a thick black foreskin covered the bulbous head and big veins ran all over the surface. "Oh fuck! I'm cumming, shit!" I moaned. It was all too much for me as I shuddered and clutched at the mattress, my body spasmed as I came moaning softly. Gary muffled my moans kissing me deeply as I fought to catch my breath. As I calmed down I continued to stare at Ray's cock as he rolled on a condom looking down at me. "Do you mind if he fucks me? I want his cock inside me." I asked Gary looking straight into his eyes. "I can't wait to see his big black cock fuck you honey," he said as he got off me and sat on the edge of the bed. I sat up and spread my legs towards to Ray. Ray quickly moved and positioned himself between my spread thighs, he ran his hands up and down my body, squeezing my tits and he gave me a deep, wet kiss and whispered into my open mouth, "I'm going to fuck you now, you sexy little slut," Ray said. "You want to fuck in front of your husband? Your husband will get a good view of his wife taking my big black cock." "Oh yes, fuck me." I said pushing against Ray's hips. I could feel the head of his penis begin to slowly enter me. He put his hands on my hips and we began to work together as I pushed into him, his cock slipping deeper into my pussy. "Does that feel good?" he suddenly asked. I looked down between our bodies and almost came again when I saw his big cock was inside my cunt lips. "Mm" I moaned, "Do you have to ask?" As I spoke he suddenly impaled me with the full length of his cock. It was a feeling so intense that it actually took my breath away, the force of his penetration so strong. I was full and was kissing Ray all over his face as he gasped, "Yea, Jayne I'm really going to have fun with you." He grabbed my hips and began to pound me hard, held me tightly, fucking me deep. I loved the feel of his cock sliding in and out of my pussy and I began groaning with pleasure as he increased the pace making me want to cum again. His thick lips pressed against mine and he pushed his tongue into my mouth and halfway down my throat as he crushed me to his powerful body. "Oh yes, just like that." I whispered. I put my hand between us and rubbed my clit and closed my eyes as I started to cum. "Oh fuck! I'm cumming, shit!" "Cum, Baby. Cum for me. Don't hold back." Ray growled. Suddenly my body arched, my legs stiffened and my arms were around his neck as I bucked up and down and I came moaning as I sank my mouth in his thick muscled neck. Rays cock was still hard in me as I held him close and whispered, "that was lovely!" He slowly withdrew his wet cock and said, "Now, get on your hands and knees baby." I groaned with pleasure as I knelt on all fours and Ray nudged up close behind me and rubbed his cock against my pussy. I opened my eyes to see Gary stroking his cock about three feet away on the edge of the bed. "You're beautiful, looks like you're having a good time," he said smiling at me. "I love you," I whispered looking at my husband as he moved closer I began to finger myself when I felt Ray's hand on my bum, positioning me. I gladly followed his direction as his hand spread my juices all over my pussy and bum. I felt Ray's hands grasp my hair and jerk my head up and back so I was looking straight at my husband as he slipped inside me again. "Mm! You love my black cock. Slut! Fucking me with him watching." Ray said obviously realising my love of dirty talk. "Yeah, fuck me! Gary come here, I want you in my mouth." Ray gripped my hips and rammed inside me as I let out a loud groan and began to push back against him. Ray had his hands still gripping my hair tightly as Gary knelt in front of me and slipped his cock between my lips. As I felt his wet and throbbing cock slip deep in my mouth I knew that my husband had loved watching his submissive ginger slut wife getting fucked by a black man. I lovingly sucked him and looked up to see his smiling face as he looked down onto my sweat covered back as I it arched against Ray's now slow deep thrusts. I could feel Ray's balls banging against my pelvis and his hands were trembling as he gripped my hips, I felt absolutely full! I was almost delirious with pleasure when I felt Ray tensing up; I knew he was going to cum. "Your wife is a great fuck. I'm ready to cum. Get ready baby," Ray said. With a loud grunt, as he started to cum I went over the edge and came again just a second or two behind as our bodies convulsed together. I could only moan softly with my husbands cock filling my mouth. I looked up at Gary's tensed up face and felt his cum shoot into my mouth just as he groaned. "Oh shit, I'm cumming!" as he too gripped my head cumming in my mouth. We lay on the bed, still joined together as I felt two cocks soften in my body. Gary was the first to pull out and reached over for some tissues handing them out to us. I had sperm in my hair, all over my face, tits, and my pussy hair was matted down and my pussy was red, swollen and sore. With a slurp Ray pulled out and disposed of his cum filled condom into the bin. I looked lustfully at black cock, still big and shiny and knew I would want it again. I then looked at Gary as he sat next to me and cuddled me affectionately. "You were great Jayne," Ray said as he reached down and kissed me gently and shook hands with Gary and left the room. "Time for a shower I think love," he said. "It is. Are you ok because I really let myself go?" "Yes, I love you so much and even more when you are a slut for me." Gary quickly showered and then left me to soak under the hot water jets while he went down to the bar to get a drink I put on some clothes and joined him for a quick drink before the drive home but what he did at the bar made my heart thump again. "I am sure you will want this baby," Gary said handing me a piece of paper. " I enjoyed tonight as much as you so want some more. I have given Ray your phone number and email address and here is his!" Tonight we had opened a new chapter in our swinging life and I knew the way we felt we would be seeing Ray again. I think Gary has what he has wanted now, a loving wife and mother for 5 days a week and at weekends a real slut. I hope you enjoyed my first effort. I needed Gary's help and nagging to do this so would love some readers comments as to whether I should do some more. Jayne's Story I've read that almost 40% of married women have sex outside of their marriages. I didn't do that in my first marriage, and I've been married to a wonderful man for the past five years and wouldn't want to do anything to hurt him or put our marriage at risk – I mean, things couldn't have been better for us. He makes a lot of money, three times what I do, not that I'm doing badly. I'm a full professor with an endowed chair in the biology department at our University– it's a well known school and the biggest employer in town. We're as happy as two 40 some year olds can be, living well in a gated community on a golf course with lots of good friends, we still love doing things together, including loving. Everything is – or at least was – perfect. I screwed up. What happened started innocently enough. I had a grant that allowed us to have a visiting scientist from the University of Upusla here for three months to help with my research. Hans was within a few days of the end of his visit and we were spending long days and late nights in the lab. Walter, my husband, understood that kind of devotion of work, sometimes what he was working on consumed all of his interest, too. Walter had to be in Europe for a couple of weeks in late May and early June. His business travel was one of the prices we paid for our success. Since I was working long hours with Hans it took a little pressure from me. Wally was supposed to come back tomorrow, the day before Hans was leaving, but the acquisition he was working on hit a small snag. He called me about 5 PM – bed time for him – to tell me it would take another day. I missed him so much. Pretty soon he'd be back, my workload would go down and I could act like a human again. Tonight I would work late. I didn't mind working long hours in the lab, but missed not having Wally at home, especially at night. He is so strong and so comforting: my difficulties just disappear when I was in his arms. Hans and I were trying to cause a reaction we suspected triggered a particular cellular breakdown – future grants depended on it. We were working in vitro (outside the body) where things are really very different than in vivo (inside): you just can't create the same environment. Well, we struggled and struggled, then figured out maybe the substrate pH wasn't quite right – simply because we measured one thing didn't mean that's what was going on where the reaction was occurring. We modified the buffer, and bingo – things went the way we expected. Now we'd be able to get what we needed for an important paper (you probably know that's how we keep score in academia) and my grant would be renewed and expanded. Hans should be able to reproduce the data in his lab when he got back to Sweden; we could co author the paper on the 'net. Things couldn't be better. It was a just-in-time breakthrough. The "Goodbye Hans" party Wally and I – opps, now it would be just me being hostess -- were going to have at our house tomorrow would be more than wishing him Godspeed; it would be a celebration of a major success, too. Euphoric would have been a good way to describe our mood when we left the lab about 9 that evening. As usual we were so engrossed in what we were doing we lot track of time. Hans knew Wally was away and he suggested we get a bite to eat together and continue our celebration. Hans told me the apartment the university leased for visitors was right near a place that served light late night meals in its cocktail lounge. It sounded like a good way to end a good day. We had a small meal with a couple of drinks and I was feeling mellow, relaxed, and happy. There was a small dance floor. We used it for a while as well, and yes, it was nice dancing with this Swede who was probably 10 years younger than me and at least as smart. Dancing was more than I expected to be doing – after all, Wally was away. Hans might have said something, I don't remember, but I pulled away a little to look at him and our lips were just inches apart. I'm a fairly tall woman, had he was about average height for a man, so when he tilted his head and moved it towards me, I mirrored the motion, and we had one of the most tender kisses I'd had in years. It wasn't sexy, there was not tongue stuff, it was just warm and exciting and soft and delicious. It didn't even rise to the level of making me want to say "but I'm married." But – this is a big but – I was pretty sure as we danced I could feel him get the start of an erection. Now look, this is not conceit talking: I know I'm an attractive woman. I'm tall, slender, fit and was Miss something or another when I was in college years ago but I was a lot older than this man and he knew that. 'Hey, look at that,' I thought, 'I was exciting enough to start turning him on." Wow! I was turning on someone who not that long ago could have been one of my post-docs. I liked that! During the next song I let body language tell him what I wanted. This time our lips met and opened, the kiss lasted much longer than the first one, and the hand he had on the small of my back pressed me to him. I allowed us to dance very close together and yes, there was no doubt he was aroused. Neat! That was fun. Maybe it was the several drinks and the high we were feeling from our success in the lab that permitted all of this to happen, I don't know, but there's no doubt I allowed it, maybe even encouraged it. When the music stopped Hans – maybe it's a European tradition, I wouldn't know – walked back to the table not trying to hide the projection in his trousers that broadcast his sexual excitement. Maybe no one else noticed, but I surely did! I had been sitting on the long bench on one side of the table, Hans had been on the chair on the opposite side, but now he sat next to me. The proximately should have been a warning, instead it added to the warmth and pleasure of the evening. We had emptied our glasses and the waitress came by asking if we wanted another round. Before I could say I had to go home Hans nodded yes. Maybe I wasn't that anxious to go. "To today's success, and to future successes," Hans said as he raised his glass. I drank that toast, and then did some counting. I had four cocktails in two hours. There are a few things the University was firm about, and DUI was high on that list. A child of one of the senior administrators was killed by a DUI faculty member a few years ago, and a bylaw was passed without objection by our union (the driver was a known drunk and up until then the union protected him) that a DUI convection was sufficient to indicate the driver was not fit to retain tenure. "I better stop drinking, I need to sit somewhere for an hour or two before I drive home, Hans," I told him. "OK," he said. "There's an all night diner across the street – I'll sit with you there you for a while, or my apartment is a block away. Your car is safe in this parking lot. Let's walk there, you can even close your eyes for a few minutes on the sofa, then go home when you're ready." I had already considered calling a cab, but the sofa option he suggested seemed like the best idea. That's probably what a psychologist would call rationalization. We walked the block or so, took the elevator to the topmost floor and went to his door. "Have you brought many women here, Hans?" I asked as he unlocked the door and held it for me. I was remembering how nice his kiss was, and wondered how often other women had enjoyed it. It didn't occur to me that I was his nominal supervisor and that question could be considered sexual harassment. "Jayne, you know the kinds of hours we've been working. The only people I've met here were grad students and other people in the lab. I haven't dated anyone let alone bring them here. You're the only person I've invited up. Can I say this without embarrassing you? Even if you weren't, you'd have been the most beautiful as well as the smartest." I smiled at the compliment. By then we were inside and the view through the balcony doors was beautiful. I stood there looking out while Hans locked the door and walked close behind me. Good. I liked him being close, and was pretty sure we'd be sharing another kiss or two. The idea seemed naughty, sexy. I missed not having Wally sleep next to me. I was a married woman in a bachelor's apartment while her husband was away: how cool and wicked was that? Yes, the wiser among you might have warned me, or maybe not. Maybe you like to hear about these kinds of problems, maybe that's why you read stories like this one. "It's a stunning view," I told him. I didn't object when his arms encircled me, and I could feel his body pressing against my back. I put my hands over his, not to restrain him, just to feel his strength. He wasn't being aggressive so that made me feel less threatened, or maybe it disappointed me, I'm not sure. But when his hug relaxed and his body language encouraged me to turn around, I did. That led to a kiss that started soft and got hard fast, and it became one of those kisses where bodies are so close it's, well, sexy. "I should be sitting quietly," I said, "burning off the drinks I had." It was a pro forma objection because I didn't want to be sitting quietly just then. There was another kiss and there were a thousand things I should have said. It might have been the drinks, the career making discovery, being with a younger man who was attracted to me, I don't know, but I said nothing. It was as though a different part of my personality took over, I stopped being a hard working researcher and a loyal and loving wife devoted to my husband. Maybe it was the thrill, the excitement. After all, we were just kissing, weren't we? Men and women kiss all of the time, don't they? "Come," he said, "and sit on the sofa." He sat beside me. The sofa faced the balcony doors, we spent a few minutes looking at the city's night skyline. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed that he didn't try to kiss me again. Was it because I was so much older than him, maybe . . . but who knows. After all, kissing and hugging were in bounds: close to the 'don't go any farther line' but still on the acceptable side of it. Honorable Hans was going to do just what he promised -- providing a place for me to close my eyes for a while. That would be just fine, I wouldn't be regretting anything in the morning. But still, don't you think he'd do something, try something? I will admit to being a little disappointed. My eyes grew heavy, and he reinforced the idea that I was secure. He had been sitting next to me, but somehow slipped from the sofa and knelt beside it. He took my shoulders and with a hint of a push moved me so I went from sitting to prone. I opened my eyes and smiled a thank you at this most gentlemanly man, but somehow he moved a little closer and somehow I put my hand behind his head, and somehow drew him closer to me. He leaned over and kissed me again. Oh, that was nice, having him do that. I liked it so much I allowed my mouth to open to accept the tongue that touched my lips. It was a long, long, kiss, and somehow during it he stopped kneeling beside the sofa and moved onto it. By its end he was pressing his groin against mine, he was holding me tightly and it seemed natural to let my upper leg move over his, so he had his thigh between my legs, pressing against my pelvis Hans at the end of the kiss half rolled away from me: I was mostly on my back, he, on his side. "That was so nice," he said. "May I tell you, now that our work is almost done, that sometimes when we were done working in the lab I'd come here and dream about kissing you like that, like this. . ." And he showed me in a gentle unforced way the kind of kiss he dreamed about. I was both enjoying his kiss and thinking about what he said, about his fantasizing that I was in this apartment with him. Can you understand how your mind can be enjoying the physicality of a moment and enjoying the thought that the man in your arms was living out something he had been dreaming about in this apartment? "That's very flattering, Hans," I told him when that kiss was over. "Sometimes" – it was only a small lie, but this was a time to telling small lies – "sometimes I'd think about you when it was late at night and I was alone." I liked hearing that I made him hot, got him excited, and hoped my small lie would induce him to tell me more. My ego doesn't need a lot of stroking, but this was the nicest kind of sexual feedback an older woman could get, and I wanted as much of that kind of ego boosting as he'd give. He turned my head to the side so he could kiss me again. Kisses were even a better verification that I excited him and I enjoyed returning them. I wanted to roll on my side and feel his body along mine again, I liked those full body contact kisses we had shared a few minutes earlier, but he had his hand on my hip and held me on my back. That was odd, but the kiss was so nice I was not going to complain. Then he used the hand on my hip to begin stroking my side, from my waist over my hip to my knee, and back again. It was the most gentle touch, but it left me feeling as though I was on fire: I may have whimpered a little. We were still dressed in "casual lab work" clothes – slacks, blouse or in his case a pull over golf shirt, and sandals, so it wasn't as if there was skin on skin contact or anything, but the fire that followed his fingertips made it seem that way. Those fingers moved back to my waist, then onto my belly, over my groin, and down over the front of my thigh – oh my, that was close! And up again, along the inside of my leg. I held his wrist when he got too close to that part of me reserved for my husband and Hans accepted the limitation. His hand found its way over my thigh to my belly again. His fingers were just stroking me, touching me as softly as his lips were, and my holding his wrist didn't interfere with that at all. But those fingers of his seemed to have a mind of their own. They were on my blouse over my belly, and began walking my blouse out of my waistband. It was the strangest sensation, feeling that movement as that sort of vee of material moved up, until – those fingers were on my skin now! He moved them lower – his fingertips were under my waistband. I tightened my grip on his wrist. He responded by moving more on me, and the kiss, soft and gentle, became harder and passionate. His fingers were pressing down into my belly, toying with my navel. It was such a wrong thing to do, I know, but it was so exciting. . . "Oh Hans," I somehow said through the kiss, and he pulled away a little. I opened my eyes to find him looking at me, into my eyes, into my soul. I could feel increasing force on his hand as those fingers moved an inch below my naval. I was holding his wrist as tightly as I could. I was ready to say "stop!" but he knew better. Oh, he knew. My words didn't get uttered, his did. He said "Jayne, I want to touch you. I know you want me to. Let go of my arm when you're ready for that." Before I could frame a protest he closed his eyes and our lips met and our mouths opened and our tongues touched. A moment later somehow my hand stopped restraining his wrist because it had a more important thing to do, to hold him close. How can I describe this? How could you begin to understand? It was as though it was a circuit, I could feel the intensity of the kiss, the exoticness of another man's tongue touching mine and mine touching his, and there was that other part, that finger tip part, on my belly. That's where my attention was focused, it was focused on those fingers. Those fingers were stroking me, moving without any urgency, but confidently, moving lower. Their tips found the elastic on my panties and slipped under it. Then they caressed my pubic hair. They moved another fractional inch. I knew he must be feeling my heat, my moisture, and I remember breaking the kiss, and pulling away, and finding him staring at me again. I had to say something. I had to do something. He moved his finger tip lower to my lips, he touched my clit and my resistance evaporated. What I said was "Hans, no one must ever know." What I did was lifted my upper knee a little, making myself more available to him. I wish I could describe the expression on his face. I wish I could have seen the expression on mine when he touched me! He never broke eye contact. It was an intensely male look, a commanding confident look as he moved his hand a last inch. His fingers played with me – no, they played me. -- I closed my eyes and lifted my head to meet his lips. The next kiss started. During it I remembered thinking what I had read about soft sex, about touching and kissing and bringing someone to orgasm or ejaculation without actual intercourse, and somehow I decided that would be all right. I'd do that, I'd go that far. I'd let him touch me, I'd let him go down on me if he wanted to. I'd touch him, stroke him, I'd touch his cock and play with it and masturbate him the way I sometimes did to my husband. My next thought made me open my mouth wide, press into the kiss and roll my hips up to allow him more complete access and I pushed against his fingers, because that next thought was, if I had to go down on him to make him ejaculate, if I had to take his penis in my mouth, I'd do that too. "No" my alter personality insisted, "No, that's saying it too passively. Be honest." It wasn't that I'd just consent to go down on him -- it was more than that. I wanted to go down on him, to feel my lips around his shaft, to feel his penis in my mouth! I was using his mouth against mine to send that message, I was tasting his lips the way I wanted to taste his penis! "Soft sex" some inner voice said "is not having an affair, is not adultery. It's close, but the boundary isn't crossed. Let yourself go, enjoy yourself, enjoy Hans." Kissing him, feeling him touch me, finger me, and somehow I was stroking his groin thru his slacks – all of that was overwhelming. My body shuddered and I had an orgasm. Just like that! I sagged back on the sofa, and looked at the man next to me. He knew what happened. He smiled and kissed my forehead, it was almost friendly, not at all what I expected – I thought this was foreplay! Then he explained: "Ever since I was thirty, the greatest erotic pleasure for me is giving pleasure to my partner. You were so easy to please, you make me feel powerful. Thank you for letting yourself go like that for me." He was done, and he's thanking me? He was stroking my face, comforting me, relaxing me That all worked, and in what had to be in only a minute or two my eyes closed. It must have been about an hour later: my eyes almost snapped open -- I had fallen asleep on the sofa! There was enough light in the room for me to see Hans had put a sheet over me, I was still fully clothed. Oh, Hans, honorable Hans, he was a man who did not take advantage this woman who should have known better. I checked the time- just midnight. I looked down the street and could see people walking in the neighborhood, and I could see my car. I'd just go get it after I said goodbye to Hans. Where was he, anyhow? I remembered that the bedroom door opened off the kitchen. I got up – oh, he took my sandals off – went into the kitchen and saw the bedroom door was slightly open. That room seemed to be lit, too. I quietly pushed the door more open, and there was Hans on his side in bed, asleep. The light was coming from the bathroom. He was bare chested, the sheet was draped over his waist. His body, that part I could see, was so smooth, so, well, young. He looked like a boy sleeping there. I smiled at myself for wishing the sheet wasn't draped the way it was so I could see all of him. It was a shameless thought, but he must have been mind-reading in his sleep because he rolled onto his back and the sheet slipped to below his knees. Jayne's Story Damn! He wasn't nude after all, he was wearing some kind of white bikini briefs. I wanted him to be naked, that's what I wanted to see. That was a wicked wish, wasn't it? That sight enhanced the little boy image. I could see the shape of his penis, it was sort of pointing toward his hip. I'd never tell him this, but it was almost cute – as though the little boy sleeping there hid one of those little Italian sausages in his shorts -- do you know the kind I mean, they are maybe four inches long and a little thicker than a man's thumb? I found myself smiling at that sweet innocent man boy. Honorable Hans, I thought again. The erotic thoughts I had earlier were gone, I guess I was drinking in visual pleasures and being a little voyeuristic. Hans was moving a little, the way many of us do when we're dreaming. It was charming and I decided to wait a little before waking him and telling him I was leaving. Oh, wait a minute! He was making small motions with his hip, and his penis shape was changing, thickening, lengthening. I could see it pulsing, surging a little with each heartbeat. He was getting an erection! He was dreaming – could he be dreaming of me? After some seconds his penis tented those briefs, lifted the elastic from his waist enough so I could see hair and a hint of his shaft. The little boy was gone, this was a vital sexy man I was watching now. I had never actually watched someone go from flaccid to erect like that, it was amazing and sexy and erotic. "This is the thrill Peeping Toms get," I concluded. I heard a soft "Jayne." He was awake! "Uh, I came in to tell you I was going to go," I said. "Jayne, I was thinking of you, and I hoped you'd come in here. I love that you're watching me get hard – it's your fault, I was thinking of you in out there on the sofa." "I, ah, I'm going to get my car and go home. I guess I slept long enough, I think it's safe for me to drive now." He sat up effortlessly, reached over and took my hand. "Come here, sit by me," he said. But that sitting morphed into lying down. "I really should go," I started to say, but a kiss got in the way. This was so wrong, so dangerous, so erotic, so sexy. . . And once again he pulled away, and once again I opened my eyes to find him staring into them. My wrist was in his grip, and he put my hand on his belly, his smooth hot belly. "Go on, do what you want to," he said. Until that moment the only penis I had touched in the last half dozen years had been my husband's. "Soft sex", that inner voice said. "It's only soft sex." I suppose I could write about the differences, but really my limited experience is most erections are pretty much the same in terms of size and so on, but it's the idea that it wasn't attached to my husband's body that made all the difference. You could say most electrical wires are pretty much the same too but when you touch them some have different voltages. His had a much different emotional voltage – its smoothness, its heat were charged with it. Damn it, I am married, I have no business touching another man like that! But oh, how I liked that feeling, the sensation of touching him, of sliding my fingers, then my closed fist, along that rod and feeling him respond to my touch. Soft sex. It's only soft sex. Hans bridged a little bit, pushed those underpants down, kicked them off, and now he was naked. That other part of my mind reminded me a few minutes ago I thought he looked like a young boy. He was far from that now. I stopped kissing his lips, moved to his throat. "Yes, do that," he said, as my lips traced down to his chest. "Soft sex," I told myself as I let my tongue move down his center and then up along his shaft, and "soft sex" I repeated when I kissed at the head of his penis and felt his heartbeat pulsing there. I opened my mouth and took him in. I licked and sucked and fingered him and stroked him while sucking on that warm shaft, I did all of the things I knew about satisfying a man with my mouth. I wanted him to cum, to ejaculate. He didn't. This was a man who claimed he wasn't sexual with a woman for three months, and I couldn't make him cum! "What more can I do to satisfy you?" I asked him after performing far longer than I ever had before. "What you're doing is wonderful," he told me. "I made myself cum after I left you sleeping on the sofa, and I'm glad I did because I don't want this to end. I want to do things to you, too." He pulled away and began unbuttoning my blouse. I helped: breasts were part of soft sex, after all. But somehow I didn't expect to feel the way I did when he pulled my blouse off then reached behind me and unfastened my bra. I felt so exposed, so at risk, so excited as he looked at me, my breasts, when I slid the straps from my shoulders, and I looked down at myself to see my nipples as hard as they had ever been. His mouth covered one of them. I lay back on the bed and let him suckle my nipples. It was heavenly. Soft sex? I was close to another orgasm with this soft sex. He moved so he was at my feet, my breasts wanted more attention, they missed – I missed – feeling him nibble at them, suck them, softly bite them. How did he get my slacks undone so quickly? "Lift up your hips," he said, and I did, and he pulled them and my panties down, "Now your legs." I did that too. When he was done I was naked on the bed with him, and without much preamble his mouth covered my groin, his tongue touched and probed and penetrated me, he moved so his cock was within reach, and I pulled at him so he was on me, his cock suspended above me, and I reached up and pulled him onto me, and his hips began moving as he fucked my mouth, and my pelvis was moving in time with his tongue fucking me! I had one fist wrapped around his penis, I used my other hand to move around him and stroke between his buttocks and my finger found his anus and played with it. I remembered my husband liked me to do that – he liked me to do more. Would Hans? I pushed that finger into him, and yes, he liked it. He liked it a lot! So did I, I came right then. Hans rolled off of me after another minute: his body was so hot now, it glistened with perspiration. I was hot, too, and glowing. This was so sexy, so erotic, so – everything. "What will you tell Wally?" my inner voice asked. "Soft sex doesn't count?" "Hans, no one must ever know," is what I said. "No one will know this happened from me," he told me. "If anyone knows, it will be because you told them." He said that while he was reaching into a drawer. What was he doing? He pulled out an unopened box of condoms! "Soft sex" that inner voice said when he opened the box and took out an envelope, and "soft sex" it repeated as he tore it open and handed the condom to me, then rolled on his back. That inner voice went silent when I sat up, and took the condom, and took his cock, already wet with my saliva, and rolled the condom over it. That voice stayed silent when he pushed me onto my back and moved over me. He lifted one of his legs so I could move one leg to the side, then we did the same thing on the other side, and I was spread open wide for him. "Adultery!" that voice said when I felt the end of his penis press against my groin and I reached down there and guided it to where it should be. Some women reading this probably can identify with the feelings I had as this man's penis, his cock, went into me for the first time. It was wrong, it was a betrayal, but even knowing that I tilted my pelvis to accept Hans into me. I wasn't the moral and ethical woman I thought I was and at the moment I didn't care, I wanted sex. I wanted to be fucked. And I was. We slept in each others arms for an hour or two after that then woke up together. I should have felt embarrassed, I should have gone home, but did none of those things. Instead I reached for that box of condoms and took out another one. We used a third at 6 AM. I was home by 7:30, showered and dressed and at work by 9:30. I got the same welcoming smiles from my grad students as I always did and the same happy wave greeting from Hans as I always did. Didn't they know? Didn't it show? Can't the world tell things are different, things have changed? Well, no. They couldn't. Hans and I repeated the experiment we did the evening before – the one with adjusting the pH, not the sexual one – and got the same result. We told our co workers about our success, and Hans bathed in their praise. I was having trouble celebrating, what I did last night was very heavy on my mind. I had betrayed my husband and myself. I felt awful. How could I face him? And then there was the party with thirty people at my house, and I'd be doing it all alone. Well, not really, it was being catered, but still. . . Wally called the lab the middle of the day: he closed the deal and was on standby for an early flight tomorrow. He wanted to know would I mind if he called in the middle of the night to tell me he was coming home. Get serious, I needed that man at home! If it went well, he'd be getting home in the early afternoon tomorrow. That would be great! "I'll miss being at that party you're having for Hans tonight, I'm sorry about that. I guess you'll have to celebrate without me," he said. "But we can celebrate again, just you and me. I can't wait to hold you again." The longest workday I ever experienced finally came to a close. I was leaving the lab at 5, the earliest I had done that in months. I had finished logging in all of the data, and had been rereading Hans' temporary working papers to be sure everything was in order for him. Hans left at the same time I did. The party was going to start at 8, but I needed to talk with him now. "Hans, no one must ever know." "You have my word, Jayne," he said. "And I really appreciate you having the party at your house for me tonight. I was afraid you'd cancel it because you had a good excuse with Walter not being there, even if the real reason is what happened lat night." "That was my responsibility, not yours," I told him. "I'll see you tonight." The caterer made everything easy for me. I changed into a simple black dress, made sure the people at the security gate had a complete list of people coming, and sat back and waited. My department parties by the clock. If it's an 8 o'clock party everyone arrives between 8 and 8:15, and it the invitation says until 10, the last leaves a few minutes later than that. It was a good party. We had a lot to celebrate, and did. Hans in a private moment asked if he could be the last to leave. He couldn't, of course. People would talk. The caterer had the place cleaned just a few minutes after the last guest left, and then I was alone, more along than I thought I could ever feel. I'm too weak. After a few minutes I called Hans' cell phone. "Hello Jayne," he answered, proving caller ID works. "I hoped you'd call. Can I come back?" "I'll tell the people at the security gate to let you back in," I told him. "Jayne, I never left the community, I'm parked at the club house. I can be there in two minutes." He was in my arms in less than two minutes, and in another two we were in the guest bedroom, and we, like teenagers I guess, somehow managed to undress each other while kissing and hugging and caressing at the same time. When we lay on the bed while I was kissing him Hans somehow reached into the bundled up slacks he had been wearing and pulled out a condom. He tore the package open before I noticed what he was doing, and then – oh Wally, forgive me – I put my hand over his. "Hans, I had to sign off on all of the papers today for you to go home tomorrow." "I know." "I forgot about the health exams everyone has to take if they are coming to United States and especially to our university if they want to work here." "I know, I'm the man they tested." "Hans, I know you don't have any sexually transmitted diseases." "I know I don't." "Hans, I don't want you to wear that. I want you in me the way you are right now." Last night Hans had all kinds of control: I read sometimes condoms decrease sensitivity, but that's not why he lost control this time: he was that excited. So was I, for that matter. This time I looked into his eyes as he moved in me, I watched as he got more excited, as the blue of his eyes almost vanished as his pupils expanded with his pleasure, and watched the expression on his face when he pressed his pelvis into mine and I could feel him throbbing, feel him getting that final little bit bigger, and his motions broadcast what happening, there was that push, then a quick relaxation and another long push, and again, and again. I'll never forget that – what I was doing was so wrong, it was the last time in my life I'd ever do something like this, but it felt so good, even if my own orgasm didn't quite come. "Do you remember," Hans asked me, " that I said giving my partner pleasure is one of the greatest pleasures I get from making love?" "I remember," I said, holding this wonderful man close to me, feeling his warmth against me. "But you did not have a climax," He said. "That's not important to me," I assured him. But it turns out it was to him. "One of my girlfriends was like you, she said it wasn't important," he told me, as he kissed my neck. "But I was able to give myself pleasure, and her, too. He was kissing my cleavage now, May I show you what I did?" In a way it was good he was talking about another woman because that put our fling, our two night stand, into a good perspective. "Show me." "Do what I tell you to do, you'll like it, I promise," he said, and nibbled at my breast. "Hold my head with your hands." I did that, and used the opportunity to move his wonderful mouth from one breast to the other, and he's right, I did enjoy it. Then he was kissing my belly. We just had sex, and he was kissing my belly! And he moved down to my pubic hair, and used his hands to spread my legs under him. Oh God, that was thrilling, I could feel his chin brushing me there. Then came the ultimate moment. He took my hands and positioned them on either side of my, of my, of my cunt! He put my fingertips just on the edges, and looked at me and issued a command. "Spread yourself wide!" His cock was just there in me. His penis, with no condom on, was just there. He came in me, I know he did, and he wants me to spread myself, he couldn't possibly be thinking about. . . He was. I could feel his tongue caress me, stroke me, probe deep in me, and .. . and He was right. It was so erotic, so trashy, it worked. The big O, the biggest in a long time, washed over me. Then we slept, and somehow awoke in the middle of the night: it was 3:30 and Hans had recovered his erection. We were comfortable with each other's body now, moving together, if we had been lovers it could have been the sweetest love making, but we weren't lovers, we were two strangers, meeting and coupling, and it was still sweet. The phone rang!!!! It had to be Wally! I had to answer. I did, while Hans quietly kept moving. "I'm on the flight that leaves in 20 minutes," Wally said. "Meet me in seven hours. I'm so horny I could bust, I need you so bad. . ." I tried not to pant as I told him I needed him, too, and hoped the bed's slight noise wouldn't be picked up by the phone. Talking to one's husband while fucking someone else is not fun, not erotic, not sexy. It's sick. It wasn't too much later that Hans left. "I must finish packing, and then be at the airport. Will you be there to say goodbye?" "This is goodbye, Hans," I told him. A minute after he left I was in a hot shower, and a half hour after that in it again, trying to scrub away the scent of sex. I stripped the bed, and washed the sheets and pillow cases in very hot water, twice, and myself again, and again. I thought I could do a secondary cleansing thing and went for a 5 mile jog and came back hot and dusty and sweaty and took another shower, and still another one. My wonderful husband came into the baggage claim area and into my arms. For a while I considered confessing to him, but what would be the point? I might feel better, at least if he didn't divorce me, but he wouldn't feel better at all. He might not even touch me for a while. No, this burden would not be lightened by sharing it. I'd do anything he asked to make him happy, and would say nothing that would cause him sadness or worse. We had a wonderful reunion and celebration, and made love that night for what seemed like hours. I did all I could to excite him, and succeeded. Oh, I didn't let him do oral on me, not for a while anyway, but I did on him. I wept once or twice while I held him, I was so happy to see him home. He doesn't often find himself hard three times in one night. I was feeling some relief. Maybe this mistake of mine would not be costly to both of us. I was the middle part of the following morning that I had a huge fright. I went into the freshly made up guest room realizing the man I shared that space with was thousands of miles away. But there, partly under the bed, was something red. It was half the envelope the condom was in. And there, a little further away, was the unused condom. I flushed both away as soon as I could, but then felt real panic. I could only remember seeing half the condom envelope. Where was the rest? I couldn't find it anywhere. Maybe Hans had it, maybe it was trapped in his clothing, maybe. . . Oh God, maybe Walter found it. Now what? What would he think if he found a condom wrapper in the house? If he found it, he must have seen the pieces I just threw away! I didn't even stop to think about the consequences of Wally bringing that up to me. I had to be proactive. "Wally, something odd happened last night." "Oh? What was that, Jayne?" "For about an hour I couldn't see Hans, and Betty Smith, my post doc, was missing too. After everyone left I went checking through the house, and it looked like someone made love in the front guest room, the bed was sort of straightened out, but not made up the way I do it. I think Hans and Betty had sex there. I stripped the bed and washed everything, and then today I found a condom on the floor. I'm sure that's what happened, and now I'm worried, because Hans was supervising Betty, and this could be a sexual suit against the university and me. What should I do?" "You know, I found part of a condom wrapper on the front steps," Wally told me. "I couldn't figure out how it got there. I think you provided the answer. To answer the other question, I would not do anything, I'd let everything alone. Just assume it was two consenting adults, it could have been any two people at the party. Don't worry about it." He found the wrapper, and I dodged a big bullet. "I love you, Wally," I told him, "and I'd do anything for you." "And I love you," he said. But there was something in his tone. Could he have had an affair when he was away? How would I ever know? Would I want to know? The technical word for all of that speculation is projection, of course. Any psychologist would tell you that. But knowing the word didn't make it any easier to control my emotions. Did I ruin my life? Our lives? What would happen next? But nothing did happen. I had a loving husband who claimed the distraction he was feeling was because of the pressures of work, it was nothing to worry about. It would go away as soon as he figured some things out. It couldn't go away fast enough for me. I wanted my life back. ========================================= There's more to this story and you'll read about it next time. There's a related tale called John's Story that was posted a few weeks ago. Some of you will try to figure out where this is going. If so, I'd like to hear your theories. Others will have to wait. Jayne's Story I do hope you liked this sequence of stories so far.