10 comments/ 29470 views/ 10 favorites Black Hair, Green Eyes By: Miss_Scarlett One of my mum's best friends when she was young was an Irish woman from Kildare. They lost touch in the early days of their respective marriages, but when I was about in my late teens they got back in contact and rekindled their friendship. That was the first time I met Mum's friend's eldest son (R), who was almost 19, for the first time. He was gorgeous: tall, slim but muscular from helping out on his parents' farm, with jet black hair and the greenest eyes I'd ever seen. We totally fell for each other and despite the fact we lived on opposite sides of the Irish Sea, we started going out together, keeping it going by phone, letter, and visits to each other's families about once a month or so. Shortly after my 18th birthday I went to stay with R for several weeks over the summer. I'd been there less than a week when he took my virginity, and despite us both being fairly inexperienced it was wonderful. I didn't cum when he penetrated me for the first time, due to nerves and slight discomfort. He brought me off with his fingers on my clit afterwards and that was the only time ever that I didn't cum from having his cock inside me. From that moment on we were like rabbits, fucking at every opportunity, literally two or three times a day, every day. We had to be extremely careful, because he was still living in his parents' house but that just added to the thrill. We did it everywhere we could: outdoors; his sister's car; friends' houses at parties; alleyways after the cinema. He would sneak into my room when everyone else was asleep and we'd fuck for hours. Once he even took me from behind over his parents' kitchen table while the rest of the family were in the sitting room waiting for the coffee we were supposed to be making. If we couldn't actually fuck, then I would go down on him, amateurishly at first until I got the hang of it, but always enthusiastically, or his fingers would slip between my thighs. I was in utter thrall to him and his cock, unable to say no -- not that I ever wanted to. I virtually gave up wearing knickers because there was no point, as R would have them round my ankles (or off altogether and in his pocket) the second we were alone together. I remember having to put clean ones into the laundry basket so his mum wouldn't get suspicious about my lack of underwear to be washed! Anyway, we went out together for a couple of years, him in Ireland and me in England, meeting regularly and always indulging in mind-blowing sex, getting ever more experimental and uninhibited as we grew older and more confident. Out of bed we got on well too -- he had a wide circle of friends and I was accepted into the group, got to know his mates and their girlfriends and generally had fun. It ended when I was at university and he had started work. My course included a year in America which I was just about to start, and I didn't think it was fair on either of us to wait for me to come back. With some reluctance we agreed to call it a day. After a while I started seeing other men, and what an anti-climax (pun intended) that was! I'd naively assumed that any man would be able to satisfy me sexually the way R had, but that proved not to be the case. I didn't exactly sleep around, but I sampled enough to appreciate that the sex I'd shared with R had been something really special. It meant that I never forgot him, and indeed occasionally used memories of us fucking to bring myself off when I was either alone or finishing what my partner of the time was unable to achieve. If we'd both been single when I returned, we might have started again, but I heard from a mutual friend that he was seeing someone so I put the idea aside. I stayed in touch with some people from the circle but my contact with R dwindled to Christmas cards, especially as I too met someone else shortly afterwards. This was the pattern for a couple of years, until everything changed a couple of years ago. R was newly-married (what a pang I had when I'd got that news!) having tied the knot a month earlier, and for the past six months or so I had been living with my boyfriend (N) who I'd been seeing for around 18 months. Anyway, the phone rang on this particular day and I answered it. I got the shock of my life when I heard R's voice. He explained he'd got my number from my mum because he had bad news. One of his friends, K, who I knew well from the early days and whose fiancée I occasionally still got in touch with, had died after battling a serious illness. Once the sad news sank in, I knew I would want to attend K's funeral which was taking place a few days later in Kildare. I didn't expect N to come as he'd never met K, and although he sweetly offered, I declined. I arranged to stay with R's parents for the nights before and after the service, which may sound weird but there was no animosity between us, as R and I had parted amicably and they were still friendly with my mum. R and his new wife -- who I'd never met -- lived about 20 miles away. I have to confess that on the morning of the funeral I was battered by conflicting emotions -- grief for K, obviously, but also a mix of nervousness and exhilaration at seeing R again for the first time in several years. It sounds shallow, when the whole reason I was there was a funeral for one of our friends, but I really wanted to look good. My black suit was well-cut and showed off my figure without being tarty, my simple white blouse gave the slightest glimpse of the beginnings of cleavage without looking cheap, while my legs looked slender in near-black hold-up stockings and medium heels. I put my hair up and used only minimal make-up. R's sister (J) gave me a lift to the church. There were already dozens of people there but as soon as I got out of the car I saw R. He was looking straight at me, presumably having recognised J's car. All the effort I'd put in on my appearance was repaid in that minute, because as I smoothed down my skirt, straightened my jacket and began to walk across the churchyard, the look on his face went beyond merely appreciative and verged on lustful. I know I didn't imagine it. My stomach swooped and I had to make a huge effort to restrain myself to a brief smile. He looked good: still trim and fit beneath his well-fitting suit, although it was a surprise to see that his black hair was prematurely greying at the temples. I hadn't expected that, but it suited him. We didn't get the chance to speak before the funeral Mass but following the service we went on to a local hotel for the wake. After the drink had been flowing for a bit, the sadness began to give way to some happy memories and even laughter, as friendships were renewed and reminiscences shared. I was hailed by so many people I hadn't seen for years, but I was constantly on edge, wanting to speak to R but nervous about approaching him for reasons I couldn't quite define. After a couple of hours or so, J had to leave as she had to get back to pick her son up from nursery. She offered me a lift back to her parents' house but there were still old friends I hadn't had a chance to speak to yet, so I thanked her but told her I'd get a taxi later. I'd had a few drinks although I didn't feel particularly drunk. More and more often I'd noticed R looking my way. I'd also noticed he only seemed to be on soft drinks and I guessed he must be driving. R's sister was hardly through the door when he appeared beside my chair holding what appeared to be an orange juice for him and what turned out to be a gin and tonic for me -- my old tipple from when we dated. He sat down in the chair J had vacated and although we were part of a larger group, from then on I barely heard a word anyone else said. He complimented me on how well I looked and that he'd always liked my hair up. I know I blushed, and then was annoyed at myself for letting him see his opinion mattered in that way. At first as we talked I felt awkward and my conversation was stilted, but R seemed completely relaxed and before long we were joking and chatting like old times. He didn't say much about his wife, who hadn't accompanied him because she hadn't been able to get the time off work, but kept turning the conversation back to me. When I mentioned N he asked about him, how long I'd been with him etc and I found myself laying it on about how happy we were together, prompted I think by guilt that I'd hardly given N a thought all day, so much had R been in my head. He bought me another drink and we talked some more. It was strange -- we weren't exactly flirting but there was a definite edge to some of our comments, as if we were both aware of how well we'd once known each other's bodies. To be honest, I was quite content -- he'd given me plenty of complimentary looks and comments, had come over to chat as soon as his sister had gone and had wanted to know about my life and my boyfriend. That was as much as I could have hoped for beforehand. A little while later I decided it was time to leave. I was mildly tipsy and didn't want to end up stupidly drunk, especially when I was a guest at R's parents' house that night. I asked if he could recommend a taxi firm and instantly he said "I'll drop you off." My stomach flip-flopped at the thought of being alone with him in his car and I initially demurred, but I think he could tell it was only a token protest out of politeness. One way or another, I found myself following him out to his Audi. By now it was late evening, just starting to get dark. When we reached the car he opened the passenger door and held it open for me, but because of the car parked next to his it was at such an angle that I had to squeeze in with care. We were so close I could smell his aftershave and for a second I thought he was going to kiss me. I was shocked at the feeling of disappointment that he didn't as I eventually got into the seat and fastened the seatbelt. We didn't really talk on the way to his parents. I couldn't tell if I was imagining the tension in the car or not, and I concentrated on trying not to stare at his hands on the wheel or at the muscles of his thigh moving beneath his trouser leg every time he changed gear. I was back in the past, wanting him just as much as I ever did. We were about a mile from his parents' farm -- in fact the lights from it were just visible from the slight crest in the road -- when R suddenly slowed down, turned left into a tree-lined lane off the main road and, a few hundred yards along, pulled up in a gateway. My heart was banging in my chest now and my mouth was dry. "What are you doing?" I whispered hoarsely. He smiled as he turned off the engine and undid his seatbelt. "Finding out if you're wearing tights or stockings," he said calmly. My entire body was tingling, but I made a token noise of protest again. "Sssssshhhh," R said softly, unfastening my seatbelt too and beginning to push the hem of my skirt upwards. He leant over, his face close and that same smile on his lips. "You know I'm going to fuck you, don't you?" This time I didn't even pretend to protest. His words had set a pulse beating between my legs and my juices were flowing as if he'd turned on a tap. He knew it too, knew the effect he'd always had on me was just as powerful on this occasion. His hands were sliding up my thighs, then his fingers touched the bare skin above my stocking tops and he breathed out lightly. "That's my girl," he said approvingly. The crotch of my white lace panties was almost transparent with wetness and he wasted no time in running his fingers over the spot, making me shiver. "Jesus, you're sopping." He pushed one finger under the elastic then changed his mind and gripped the material at both sides. "No point keeping these on any longer, is there?" he said, pulling them down. I lifted my arse off the seat to help him and he grinned again knowingly at my eager co-operation. Seconds later my knickers were in the footwell of the car and my skirt was hitched above my waist, leaving my cunt completely on display. R touched the neatly trimmed triangle of hair covering my mound lightly, teasingly, and instinctively I spread my legs for him. He found my clit easily and flicked it with the very tip of his finger so that I whimpered and squirmed with longing. My entire body was on fire and I was desperate for him. Sometimes in the past he would tease me like this for what felt like hours, keeping me on the brink of an orgasm until I was screaming and begging for release. This time though he took pity on me -- either that or his own need was for once affecting his legendary self-control -- and after only a few more seconds of stroking my clit with featherlight touches, he suddenly pushed two fingers inside me. I cried out with pleasure as he began to finger fuck me, his thumb now circling my clit. The combination of that gentle rubbing and the rhythmic stabbing of his fingers was all it took, and after only a few moments I felt my first orgasm building unstoppably. I arched my hips off the seat as I came, moaning his name, my cunt muscles squeezing his fingers as I spasmed uncontrollably, heat bursting through me. R kept moving his fingers until that first glorious wave died away, then he slowly withdrew them. I watched, panting and hypnotised as he brought his fingers, slick with my juices, up to his face and put his index finger into his mouth. "Mmmmm," he said softly, "just as delicious as I remember. Taste." He held his middle finger out to me and obediently I sucked it into my mouth, tasting my own juices. I stared into his eyes as I licked his finger clean and a smouldering, erotic charge passed between us. "I need to fuck you now," R said, and my stomach flip-flopped with anticipation and excitement. He leant over and pressed a button which lowered the seat back until I was lying almost horizontally. "I'm not on the Pill any more," I managed to gasp. "I'll pull out," he shrugged. "I've got condoms." "So have I, but I'm not using one," he said. "You're going to take it bareback, just like you used to." I didn't argue. I wanted it. From my prone position I heard rather than saw his zip being lowered, then -- with difficulty in the enclosed space -- he manoeuvred himself over so that he was between my legs in the gap between my pushed-back seat and the dashboard. With one hand he supported himself against the back of the seat near my head, and with the other he guided his cock towards me. I lifted my feet onto the dashboard and spread them wide on either side of him, both to give him more space and to increase the angle of penetration. I could hardly breathe with excitement, knowing that in only a few seconds he would be fucking me once more after all this time. Sure enough, next moment I felt the velvety tip of his cock brushing against me, rubbing up and down my slit as R teased me yet again. "Please," I whimpered, not caring if I sounded desperate or sluttish. Let's face it, I was desperate and I was acting like a slut. All thoughts of my boyfriend or R's wife were forgotten as I craved the first, and best, cock I'd ever had. "Please what?" R continued his tantalizing, rhythmic massage of my cunt lips with his erection. I was so turned on my juices were bubbling out of me and running down the crack of my arse onto the seat beneath. At that moment I would have crawled over broken glass to get to his cock. "Please, please fuck me," I begged. He smiled at this further proof of his power over me, but he lined up the head of his swollen rod with my dripping entrance and then with one firm, smooth movement of his hips, he pushed his prick inside me. I honestly thought I would pass out with pure pleasure. The sensation of R's bare cock entering me, stretching me open, filling me, was utter bliss. Don't get me wrong, it's not some fantasist's monster 12-incher with a girth like a beer can, but it feels as though it were made to measure just for my cunt. It's the most perfect fit, and judging by R's groan as he slid in up to the balls on the first stroke, he felt so too. "Ahhh, that's grand," he sighed in my ear. "You're still as lovely and tight as I remember." He withdrew almost completely, resting just the tip inside my opening, and I looked down to see his cock glistening with a coating of my juices. I watched, hypnotised, as it slowly sank into me once more, and again R exhaled with pleasure. "Christ, I've had virgins that weren't as tight as you." He began to move in a slow, unbearably pleasurable rhythm that soon had me moaning with delight as another climax quickly approached. Still taking most of his weight on the hand gripping the seat, R used the other to unfasten my blouse beneath my open jacket, cupping first one breast then the other and easing them out of my white lace bra. "Mmm, you always did have gorgeous tits" he murmured appreciatively, gently pinching one of my rock hard nipples and making me moan even louder. His cock was still sliding back and forth inside me and I was shaking now, a second orgasm imminent. Sensing it, he thrust slightly harder and I cried out as I came, bucking beneath him as my cunt sent electric shock-like sensations through my entire body. R increased his pace as my spasms died away, his balls slapping against my body as he began to plunge in and out harder and faster. The tip of his cock was brushing my cervix with every stroke and it felt wonderful. I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him on. R's face was next to mine and I could feel his sweat, could hear us both panting like animals. The car was rocking in time to our frantic fucking, and already I was building towards yet another climax as his cock rammed my eager cunt. This time I wasn't alone. "Shit, but I'm getting close," R muttered between gritted teeth. He reared back, slowing the pace but not the power of his thrusts. "I'm sorry, but there's no way I'm pulling out," he added, "this feels far too good." I was nodding in agreement before he'd even finished speaking. All potential consequences -- morning after pills, pregnancy tests -- had become completely irrelevant. Although I'd gone on the Pill for him, ever since splitting up with R I'd always used condoms but now I wanted -- no, I needed -- to feel his cock exploding inside me. I felt as though I would die if I didn't get filled with that precious, gorgeous seed. "Ahh, I'm going to spunk so far up you, you'll be able to taste it," he groaned, pounding into me once more. "Yes, do it!" I gasped, gripping his arse to pull him even further into me. Suddenly he grasped my ankles, unwound them from around his back and pushed my knees up to my shoulders, sending his cock deeper still. The change in the angle, plus the realisation he had done it in order to shoot his load as far up me as it was possible to get, was all it took to tip me over into another shuddering orgasm, and the sensations of my cunt rippling along his shaft finished R off too. "Here -- it -- comes -- " he groaned. He gave one final, urgent thrust and then tensed. His buttocks flexed beneath my hands, I felt the head of his cock swell and stiffen even more and then with an inarticulate cry he came. His cock was buried so deep I actually felt the first hot jet of sperm hit my cervix and I too cried out with delight, almost climaxing again just from the knowledge that R was emptying his balls straight into my unprotected womb. Spurt after spurt of fresh creamy jizz poured from his twitching cock into my cunt while I lay back and took it all with a smile of utter contentment on my face. Eventually, the final few drops of spunk had been squeezed out. We lay for a moment as the tension dissipated, me crushed but relishing R's weight as he relaxed on top of me. Then, with a flattering expression of reluctance, he eased himself up and withdrew his cock. I sighed involuntarily at the sudden unwelcome feeling of emptiness. Black Hair, Green Eyes Ch. 02 I woke on the morning after K's funeral with my cunt and thighs sticky with R's dried spunk, an immediate reminder of the previous evening. I put off having a shower for as long as I could, simply because I was reluctant to wash away the physical evidence of our glorious fuck. His parents both left before I headed for the bathroom. His father was off to some farm implement sale and his mother was accompanying a friend who was going to try out a horse they were thinking of buying. They were apologetic that they had to leave but I assured them I was fine, not to mention grateful for their hospitality. I mentioned that R had kindly offered to take me to the airport, and his mum said that meant she wouldn't have to leave a key for me to lock up with as he still had his own. After they had gone, I finally went upstairs to shower. I didn't want to cut it too fine, as I suspected R's reason for offering a lift was to treat me to a repeat of the previous night and if that were so, I wanted to have enough time to enjoy it. My stomach was fluttering with nervous excitement as I stripped off and turned on the water. I was rinsing my hair under the powerful flow when I heard the bathroom door opening. Instantly I started to shake and a pulse began to throb between my legs. I looked around the edge of the shower curtain to see R lounging against the door frame. He was wearing jeans and an open-necked turquoise shirt that made his eyes look greener than ever. "I timed that perfectly," he said with a half-smile. "Come out from behind that curtain so I can look at you." I did so, obediently moving along the bath so that nothing obscured his view. I felt vulnerable being naked while he was fully clothed, standing meekly for his appraisal as his gaze swept up and down my body, but it merely turned me on even more. "Well, that's got me hard as a rock," he said at last, and sure enough I could see a bulge in the crotch of his jeans. "Or at least that and the thought of what I'm going to do to you." He smiled again, a confident smile that showed he knew he was completely in control and that I was, once again, utterly submissive to his wishes. "Since you've a plane to catch, we'd best not waste any time," he added, beginning to unbuckle his belt as he spoke. My juices were already flowing, but at his directness they began to gush in a torrent to rival the still-running shower. I was breathing quickly through parted lips, my eyes riveted on his, my nipples standing out like acorns and legs still shaking; a picture of arousal. Staring at me almost challengingly as he slowly unzipped his jeans, he said softly, "Turn around." I swallowed hard and obeyed, turning my back to him. I love being taken from behind. I was trembling uncontrollably with anticipation, desperately awaiting his touch. When it finally came -- a fingertip tracing a line from the nape of my neck to a fraction above my buttocks -- I gasped and shuddered violently. In the same soft, almost husky voice, he said, "Bend over." Despite my shaking knees, I managed to do as I was told, using my hands against the bathroom wall for support. I heard the rustle of denim that told me his jeans had fallen to the floor, then he said "Spread your legs for me." I did so immediately. Seconds later his hand glided between my slippery thighs and I jolted with excitement again. "Someone's turned on," he said with amusement, dipping his finger into my oily wetness and spreading it across my clit, which made me quiver and moan. He had barely touched me and I was already well on the way to an orgasm. With a hand on my back, R pressed gently downwards and I bent over further, gripping the far edge of the bath. Without any further conversation or foreplay, he suddenly pushed the whole length of his cock firmly into my throbbing, dripping cunt. I shrieked from a mixture of surprise and delight and came instantly, a huge feverish burst of heat that rippled outwards from my plundered core. R proceeded to fuck me hard and fast, his hands on my shoulders pulling me onto his cock, his balls slapping wetly against my arse, which I pressed back against him hungrily. He brought me off three times in quick succession before he slowed the pace, drawing back then pushing in deep again almost lazily. I was dripping with sweat, panting like a bitch in heat, bruised from the force of his thrusts, and in absolute ecstasy. I'd had more orgasms in the last sixteen hours with R than in the last six months with N, and since I knew he hadn't come yet I guessed there were more on the way. I felt R's hands move down my back and come to rest on my buttocks. He kneaded them roughly, before his thumb brushed my tightly puckered hole, making me shiver. "How long is it since you've had a cock up your arse?" he whispered. His words made my cunt contract around his slowly-moving rod with excitement and apprehension. "No-one's ever shagged my arse except you," I replied, completely truthfully. "Really?" I could hear the surprise in his voice. "But you used to love it." One of his fingers was working into my arsehole as he spoke and my legs were trembling harder than ever at the unfamiliar but not unwelcome intrusion. "I know," I muttered. Even though I knew he couldn't see my face, I felt myself blushing at what I was about to confess. "I wanted to keep something special, something that I only did with you." "I'm honoured," R murmured. I thought he was being sarcastic, but for a second his finger stopped moving and his other hand briefly caressed the back of my neck. "And all the more reason to do it now. Let's call it for old times' sake." I didn't protest, although I doubt it would have made much difference if I had. R knew me too well, knew I would do anything he said when it came to sex. It's weird, because with anyone else or in any other situation I'm confident, opinionated and not afraid to take control, but faced with R -- or, more accurately, R's cock -- I willingly submit to his every demand. He withdrew his cock and pulled his finger out of my arse at the same time and I whimpered involuntarily. Instead he pushed two fingers into my dripping cunt and used the slick juices to lubricate my anal passage. I gasped at the insertion of both fingers into my tight hole, but it was mainly with pleasure. He did this several times, rubbing carefully all around my rear end and using his strong fingers to try and stretch me open. Once I was lubed up to his satisfaction, he briefly re-inserted his prick into my cunt to coat it afresh. I was trembling uncontrollably with anticipation and excitement. Seconds later, I felt his hard moist knob touch my arsehole and I quivered even more as it began to press inwards. Over the next few minutes R was surprisingly patient and gentle, easing his way in gradually. At the same time he was utterly relentless -- the only way this was going to end was with his cock in my arse. I gasped and wriggled as I felt myself beginning to be stretched as millimetre by millimetre, his prick worked itself inside. As I said earlier, his tool isn't exactly a baby's arm but it's still big and thick, and it was years since it -- or anything like it -- had last been up there, so it was almost like having my anal cherry popped all over again. "Jesus, you're so tight," R muttered. "Is it hurting?" "Yes, but it's a good hurt," I gasped. There was a long moment of steady, insistent pressure, then I felt the unmistakable popping sensation of his cock-head breaking through my tight ring of muscle and sliding in a couple of inches. I winced involuntarily while R exhaled in triumph. From that point on it was easier, and within seconds I could feel the entire meaty length of his cock nestled in my aching arse while his heavy balls rested against my sopping cunt lips. R's patience and gentleness ended there. Once fully inside, he gripped my hips tightly, then after a couple of long, slow strokes to really open me up, he began to pump his cock in and out of my arsehole unmercifully. I cried out in mingled pain and absolute, exhilarating pleasure, begging him to fuck my arse hard, and he was more than willing to oblige, his balls banging against me as he pulled out to the tip and then plunged in to the hilt, over and over again. My legs and back were cramping with having been bent over the bath for so long but I didn't care, I would have stood there all day if it meant having R's cock buried inside me. I'd never been able to come purely from anal stimulation, and R remembered. We were both panting hard and I could tell from the frequent groans he was emitting that he wasn't far away. I felt his hand leave my hip and reach round to touch my clit, rubbing it with his fingertip. It was like an electric shock and I shrieked again as I came. The spasms rippling from my cunt made my arse squeeze around his cock. Even more so than yesterday I felt his tool swell as he shoved it in deep and held it there, then with a grunt of pleasure he shuddered and his cock erupted within the tight walls of my arse. The sensation of R's creamy jizz spurting inside my bowels was just incredible and I moaned happily as it gushed into me. R deliberately pulled out just before he finished, spraying my buttocks and thighs with the last of his hot spunk. Once he let go of my hips I practically collapsed into the bath. The shower was still running and I crawled back underneath the spray to wash off the sweat and sperm -- admittedly most of the latter was still up my arse, leaving me with a warm slippery feeling inside. R rinsed off his cock and dried it on a towel, before briskly zipping his jeans up once more. Before he left me to finish washing and drying myself, he gripped my chin in one hand, pulled my face to his and kissed me hard. "That was fucking amazing," he breathed as our lips parted, and I could only nod in agreement. After R went downstairs to have a coffee while he waited for me, I finished off in the bathroom, dried my hair and got dressed, reliving every moment of our encounter as I did so. I could feel my arse throbbing rhythmically, a painful but very welcome reminder. I was still so tight that hardly any of R's spunk had leaked out of my rear passage yet, so I still felt slimy and full. For the return journey I'd brought a simple navy linen summer dress that reached a point about an inch above my knees and a cream lightweight jacket so that I'd be comfortable on the plane. Today I was bare-legged with cream wedge-heeled sandals. When I reached the sitting room, R looked up and wolf-whistled. I did a little mock-twirl and we grinned at each other. Even though we should both have been feeling guilty, there was no awkwardness or regret at all. R was just rinsing his cup when my mobile phone rang. It was N, ringing to see how the funeral had gone. I confess to feeling the first little prickle of guilt at the sound of his voice. I turned away from R to face the wall while I had a low-voiced conversation. I didn't really want to get into a long drawn-out discussion but N insisted on asking my advice about some correspondence we'd received that morning, which needed an urgent response. As he was explaining the various options, I suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of a zip being lowered behind me. Before I had a chance to think about what this meant, R's hands touched my thighs and began to slide my dress up and over my waist. It was like being punched in the stomach with desire. You can call me all the cheating, whoring names under the sun, but nothing in my life has excited me as much as that moment, the moment my ex-lover moved the crotch of my panties aside and pushed his cock inside me, while my boyfriend's voice chattered in my ear. Instantly I was as wet as I'd ever been, so wet that my juices actually dripped out of me onto the carpet. With my free hand I reached out to steady myself against the wall as R moved slowly back and forth. I closed my eyes and rocked gently in rhythm with his exquisite strokes. I had to clench my teeth together to stop myself from making any giveaway noises as I approached orgasm, and R obviously guessed what a struggle that was because he let go of my hips, bracing himself against my splayed-apart thighs instead. With one hand he took the phone and held it to my ear so that I could support myself with both hands on the wall, and the other he placed over my mouth to stifle my moans of ecstasy. It was the sheer naughtiness of the situation as much as the stimulation of my clit and cunt lips that brought me to a violent climax, the knowledge that I was writhing on the end of R's prick to a soundtrack of N's voice in my ear. N was asking where I was, so with a superhuman effort to sound normal I removed R's hand from my mouth and managed to make an excuse about the line breaking up, even while I was shaking with the after-effects of my peak. Still R's cock sank in and out smoothly from the hilt to the tip, and I struggled to focus on N's voice. "Keep him talking," R breathed softly in my free ear, so quietly I only just heard him. "I want to cum inside you while he's still on the phone." I had a little shuddering spasm just at R's words. I managed to stammer out a question to N, to make him repeat something he'd already said. Meanwhile R quickened his pace, thrusting more urgently. One hand still held the phone to my ear, the other found my clit and caressed it teasingly. I wanted to cry and yell with delight and pure enjoyment, at the incomparably wonderful sensation of R's cock pumping in and out of my well-used cunt, but somehow I bit my lip and stayed silent. Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, I heard R sigh into my ear. He held himself rigid, arching into me, his hand on my clitoris pulling me hard against him and I felt his cum spurt into me once more. I came at the same time, fluttering on his cock while it filled me with a stream of hot jizz, and my boyfriend's voice in my other ear told me how much he was looking forward to seeing me again later. It was the most erotic moment of my life. As I clumsily wound up the phone conversation, R pulled out, replaced my knickers and wiped his cock against the crotch. He pulled my dress down and I heard him zipping himself up before I turned around. "For God's sake, let's get you to the airport before I have to fuck you again," he said, only half-joking. There was no time to change or even clean up, so we drove the forty or so miles with R's spunk seeping out of both my holes and pooling in the crotch of my panties. Once at the airport, he kissed me again and whispered "Let's not leave it so long next time." I spent the entire flight daydreaming about the glorious fucking I'd just had. I didn't get away with it. Hardly surprisingly, having two helpings of fresh spunk fired straight into my unprotected womb had rather major consequences. Nine months after spreading my legs for R's cock, I was spreading them again to give birth to our daughter. N thinks she's his, since I managed to manufacture a 'burst condom' story and fudged the dates, but I know better. Especially as I think she's going to have black hair and green eyes. Just like her father... Black Hair, Green Eyes R returned to the driver's seat and sat back, still breathing heavily. His cock was thickly coated with a mixture of both our juices and, just as I often used to, I bent over the handbrake and took his slowly-shrinking member in my mouth. He gasped softly and laid a hand gently on my hair as I lovingly licked the traces of our glorious fucking from his softening shaft. "If you did that for long enough, I'd get hard again," he said quietly, "but I've got nothing left in the tank." "Don't worry," I let his cock slip briefly from between my lips, "it's just a clean-up job. Tempting though the thought of sucking you off properly is, I suppose we'd better get back." I finished my tender ministrations and R zipped himself back up and started the engine. While he turned on the blowers to de-mist the windows we had steamed up with our activity I raised my seat back, pulled my skirt down, tucked my tits back into my bra -- "Shame," R said with a smile as he watched -- and fastened my shirt, then as we set off on the last leg of the journey I did what I could to repair the damage to my hair and make-up. As we turned into his parents' driveway, he asked what time my flight was the next day. When I told him, he said he would pick me up and take me to the airport. I didn't protest, and immediately started hoping for a repeat performance. Something in his eyes suggested that I was unlikely to be disappointed. "I won't come in," he said as he pulled up at the farmhouse. "I'm not in the mood for small talk with my parents. I'll see you in the morning." As I bent towards the footwell to retrieve my discarded knickers he grabbed my wrist. "No you don't," he said sternly, "I'll take these." For a second I was about to argue, then I subsided as I realised I found the thought of R going back home to his wife with my wet knickers in his pocket -- the knickers he had stripped off me with his own hands -- inexplicably exciting. That led me to another thought. "Do you do this a lot?" I asked, "Cheating on your wife?" "Believe it or not, I don't," he said, and I could see by his expression that he was telling the truth. "I've been tempted, especially before we were married, but I've never been unfaithful until tonight." "I'm flattered," I said, half-joking. "You should be," R said, "this was never in doubt. I knew from the minute you said you were coming over that I was going to fuck you. I love my wife, but you're the best fuck I've ever had, and tonight just confirmed that." "Same here," I smiled. I moved to open the door, but again R stopped me. This time he didn't speak, he simply put his hand on my cheek, leaned over and kissed me. I was surprised but delighted at the intensity, the almost rough urgency, of his mouth on mine and we shared a long, passionate moment. It was the first, and only, time we had kissed that night. When our lips parted he finally let me go. I stepped out of the car and paused. After several seconds -- a sign of just how far up me R had shot his load -- I felt that unmistakeable sliding, oozing sensation, followed by a light pattering sound on the gravel. We both looked down to watch his spunk dripping out of me. I stood with my legs apart, squeezing out as much as I could before rubbing my thighs together to try and catch the last few trickles running down my legs. Eventually he drove away. Somehow I managed to talk to his parents, before pleading exhaustion and escaping to my room. Before I fell asleep I stroked my sticky, sperm-drenched clit to one final orgasm while reliving the events of the evening, and looking forward to tomorrow.