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This Charming Man

By: LoopGaru



I applied my lipstick. My husband looped his belt through his pants. We left the babysitter, a grad student named Cory, with our three-year-old daughter and drove to my work party. My job was in the arts department of a medium-sized university, and our dean always hosted an annual summer's-end party at his well-kept, historic home. We parked, but before we got out of the car, I held my husband's face in my hands and gave him a loving kiss. He looked especially handsome tonight. 

Inside, I mingled and eventually found myself with a fizzy cocktail in hand chatting with a slim, new adjunct professor our department had hired. Jennifer was her name. She was in her late twenties and had just finished her graduate schooling. This job was the first in her career. She'd recently arrived in town and was excited and nervous about the upcoming semester. She talked a bit too much about herself, perhaps out of self-consciousness of being at a party where she didn't know anyone well. 

As I patiently listened, an opinion of her formed in my mind. Although Jennifer was worldly and obviously well educated, she had a sheltered naiveté about her. I knew the type. She'd been stuck in the Ivory Tower too long. And although she was a lovely woman, even stunning I'd say, I could tell that she had trouble finding men who weren't intimidated by her academic smarts. I also surmised she went through a lesbian phase in her undergrad days. As I said, I know the type. The term is LUG—Lesbians Until Graduation. Maybe she even had a threesome with a man and a girlfriend. At her university, it was hip to be sexually open-minded. It gave her credibility among her peers.

But if I was reading Jennifer correctly, her heart wasn't in it during her lesbian phase. Men still mattered to her. She had probably let herself be fucked with a strap-on now and then, but a fake phallus would only make her desire for a real one more clear. She was a heterosexual. She wanted attention from men. She needed a man's scratchy face kissing hers. It should be a man's hard body gyrating on top of hers, not a woman's. In her pussy, a real man's cock, not a simulation, was meant to be screwing her. I guessed it had probably been a long while since she'd had a real one. 

I knew my husband would love to fuck her.

He was drawn to the lovelorn, the desperately horny. He wanted to help them. To him, when he knew of a woman in need of a good fuck who didn't have a suitable partner, it sort of made him sad. He loved women and felt they deserved to be satisfied. He wanted to help them, just like he'd want to help a depressed male friend who needed to be taken out for a fun night on the town. When a woman couldn't get laid, in his mind it almost meant something was wrong with the world. 

I planned to introduce them, let him make his move. Then I'd slip away. 

Jennifer was still talking about something or other. I peered over her shoulder and saw my man across the room. He was mingling, sipping a rock-glass cocktail, and picking an hors d'oeuvres off a server's tray. I'd bring them together soon enough. 

I interrupted her. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but are you seeing anyone?" 

"No, not right now. I'm not into the long distance thing."

"Oh. So you had a boyfriend in back in Ohio?" 

She blushed a little. "Well, actually, it's been a while. I'm hoping to meet someone new now that I'm here in a new home." 

"I'll think about if there's anyone I can fix you up with," I offered, touching her shoulder with sisterly affection. "In the meantime, I'd like you to meet my husband." If she was that eager, she'd be in for a treat with Phil.

I brought her over to him. He disengaged from the conversation he'd been having and took her hand with a warm smile. "Nice to meet you," he said while giving me a little clandestine wink. I returned it with a sly, knowing look. 

"Jennifer here is a new professor," I offered. "She was just telling me she's interested in getting to know the men of our town." 

"Well, I...," she stammered and blushed again.

I laughed as I patted her on her back."Sorry, dear. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I meant to say she was telling me she a boyfriend before, but now she's on the market again." 

Their ensuing conversation was just cocktail party chit chat, but Phil immediately started to charm her. He's a womanizer to be sure, but only in the sense that he loves women. He's not oily or aggressively seductive. He's just a naturally lovable guy and a happy person. Because of his ready smile and easy-going good looks, women like to stand close to him. Small physical intimacies are easy with him. He touched her shoulder to punctuate a thought. And for her part, she grabbed his forearm as she laughed at a joke. 

Phil knew what he was doing. These small intimacies build a foundation for larger ones, which then slide into arousal and sexual compulsion. 

I myself went to go mingle around, talking with colleagues and friends. I later found Phil and Jennifer outside on a quiet part of the house's wrap-around porch. They were leaning close to each other, almost whispering in good-natured conspiracy. His arm was on the railing that she leaned against. His fingers were stroking her bare back between the straps of her dress. This light touch was yet another part of his warming her up, and she was loving the attention. But he was subtle. I knew he wouldn't want to embarrass me by overtly hitting on someone in a social situation. And his subtlety kept Jennifer baited. He knew how to deftly walk the line. 

"There you are," I said. 

Jennifer looked up, with an expression of mild surprise and perhaps guilt. Her building sexual attraction to Phil distracted her so, she probably almost forgot I existed. But Phil was nonchalant. "Hi, love," he said. "Are you having a good time?"

"Yes, but I think I'm done for the night. I'm going to go home and relieve the babysitter. But if you want to stay, I don't mind." 

"You sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure. Jennifer, do you think you could give my husband a ride home? 

Her body straightened. "Well, yeah. S-sure. I don't mind. You don't mind, Phil, do you?"

"Why would I mind taking a ride somewhere with a lovely woman like you?"

Jennifer flushed at his compliment, at her understanding the new possibilities of this situation. She'd have a chance to be alone with Phil. She seemed almost on the verge of thanking me.

"It was so nice spending time with you and getting to know you better," I said. I kissed her warmly on the cheek and took both her hands in mine. "I can tell you'll be a great addition to our department." 

I then turned to Phil and gave him a kiss on the lips. I made it a sensuous kiss that lingered purposefully for my audience of one, whom I knew was watching intently. I even slipped a little tongue to him and he responded in kind. Sure, I was letting this woman fuck my husband, but she should keep her expectations in check. She should know I had his heart. As we withdrew, I said, "I love you." I leaned closer into his ear and whispered, "I'll be waiting for you."

"I love you too, babe," Phil said. He let his hand fall to my rear and patted it as I turned to walk off. I could feel his eyes on my ass. 

For Phil's part, was his flirting with me such a good idea? I mean, he just kissed me erotically and caressed my butt in front of a woman he was is the midst of seducing. He told me he loved me in her presence. Did he risk making Jennifer jealous and insecure? Might she feel disconcerted and cool down their flirtation? 

No, not at all. Phil's actions were putting his desirability and virility on display, and that would only draw her to him more. And he knew she wanted him no matter what, wife or no wife. In any case, it wasn't all about him and Jennifer. He was playing with me, too. His showing off in front of Jennifer was part of our own erotic dance. 

I unlocked the car with the key's electronic button and slid in the drivers seat. I pulled away from the tree-lined street and made my way home through the night alive with insect sounds. I was already wet and pressed my thighs together. What was waiting for me at home was a pleasurable and pressure-free masturbation session fueled by fantasies about my husband and his new lover. Masturbating is one of my favorite things to do. Sometimes, I have to admit, I enjoy it even more than fucking. I have an active sexual imagination, and when Phil is off philandering, it goes wild.

I know that he sleeps around, and he knows that I know that he sleeps around. But we don't talk about it openly. Once I tried to confront him when I had my suspicions about his shtupping a lonely, divorcée friend of ours. But I didn't have proof, and the fight that resulted didn't resolve anything. It only lowered upon us a scowling tension that lasted and lasted. Yes, his affairs were upsetting to me, but eventually I realized he wasn't going to change. I had a decision to make. And I decided that my love for him was too strong. My hunger for him too great. I couldn't live without him. Why waste energy resenting him? I decided to accept him as he was. 

My decision marked the moment when the tension in our marriage dissipated. Now that I no longer felt threatened by his affairs, I realized how exciting it was for me to eroticize his encounters. God, it was strange—I now desired him even more. Trying to understand my feelings, I compared it to when I'm in a neighborhood of restaurants and deciding where to eat. Suppose there are two places to choose from: one is empty and lonely, but the other is popular and lively. Where am I going to want to eat? The popular restaurant. Well, that's my husband. 

Women couldn't resist him, and his success with them made me realize what a prize I had. He could have so many beautiful girls, but he had chosen me to marry. He always came home to me. It was flattering. Unlike the others, I occupied an elevated place his heart. In other relationships where the husbands stray, the love is gone. But that was not the case with us. Our deep love was what made our marriage work so well. And his sleeping around refreshed the light in which I saw him. Like when we were first in love, I could appreciate once again how gorgeous he was. 

So I began to help him out. I gave him opportunities and excuses to leave the house. I would even buy boxes of condoms and leave them in his nightstand. To smooth over any awkwardness about their presence, occasionally I would ask to have sex with a condom, particularly when we did anal. My favorite part of our game was to pick out women for him and facilitate his dalliances, like the one was about to begin with Jennifer. I think this was the third or fourth time I'd set him up. But we never openly talked about these matters. And the unspoken secret was an erotic charge in itself. 

Cory, the babysitter, was watching TV and drinking a diet soda when I got home. We talked about how my daughter's bedtime routine went, until she realized Phil hadn't shown his face. 

"Where's Mr. Sanders?" she asked with a creased brow. 

"He decided to stay at the party a little longer. Why do you ask?" 

"Oh, no reason. Just wondering why he wasn't here." Her eyes looked away and down, failing to hide her disappointment. The poor girl. She was pretty to be sure, but in a sad, pleading way. She dressed rather plainly, probably out of insecurity. Still, her 22-year old body—fleshy and voluptuous—I'm sure was heavenly for Phil to devour. 

"Did you need him to drive you home? I can call you a cab."

"No, I'll just call my boyfriend. Thanks anyway."

After she'd gone, I poured myself a glass of Pinot Noir and smoked a touch of pot out of Phil's pipe. I lit a few candles, changed into some sexy panties and a matching silk camisole, and settled into our plush bed. I started to trace my fingers around my pussy, tickling my pubic hairs, as my mind wandered to what Phil was doing.

***

At this point, he was probably still at the party flirting with her. He'd go to the bar to order her another drink and hold his touch too long when he passed it. He still moved throughout the party, saying hello to the colleagues of mine he knew and random friends from the community. Jennifer followed him around. She had an excuse, because she didn't really know anyone in town. But truly she was hooked, and whenever Phil turned his attention to her, she ate it up. 

Finally, Phil told her he'd like her to take him home soon, if it was all right with her. 

"Whenever you want," Jennifer replied. "I'm ready now."

Once they got outside, he led her through the dark night with his hand on her lower back. As a gentleman, he had to. Branches obscured the streetlights, and he didn't want her to stumble. That gesture soon turned into them walking arm in arm. But Jennifer's body was stiff in nervous anticipation. 

Phil broke their not quite chaste embrace to get into the passenger's seat while Jennifer stepped into the driver's. Her key jiggled lightly as she fit it into the slot by the steering wheel. She was about to turn the ignition when Phil put his hand on hers, stopping her. 

She turned to look at him. Her fine features made a lovely outline in the darkness. 

"You're very beautiful, you know," he said. 

And that was all it took. The sexual tension was too thick for her to remain coy, her desire for my husband too strong. With another man, she might have responded with some modest demurral. Or even laughed at the inherent cheesiness of the line. But here, Phil's line pierced thorough her reserve like a pin pushing through water balloon. 

She burst. She lunged for his mouth with a sudden ferocity that made Phil's eyes widen, but he quickly stepped up to the plate and matched her writhing tongue with his own. Their mouths furiously grappled together. They feasted on each other with oversized bites and grunts, their faces attacking and retreating while their hands roamed across each other's heads, necks, and shoulders. Phil made a move for a breast and cupped it in his palm. Needless to say, Jennifer welcomed his groping. Nothing else mattered but their sexual ferocity, so it took a little while before they realized how the gear shift between them was making making-out uncomfortable. 

"I know a hidden place we can park not far from here," Phil panted. "Let's go."

Without a word, Jennifer disengaged from him and turned on the engine. She couldn't talk. Her body flowed with adrenaline, and her heart fluttered in her chest. It was actually a relief to have a moment to catch her breath. Phil kept his composure. He gave her directions in his supple, low voice. And his warm hand had traveled up her skirt and rested on her bare thigh, tantalizingly close to her pussy. Her legs opened as wide as driving would let her. Her clit ached for his touch, but he didn't go any further.

Phil instructed her to pull into the parking lot of a junior high school and then into a secluded section hidden by trees, a secret place where a willowy French teacher at the school had often brought him. 

As soon as she parked, her lips found his, and they made out furiously. Because they had no private place to go, necking in a car made them feel like two teenagers. But this wasn't adolescent experimentation. It was adult. It was adult lust. It was about a young woman who against her better judgment was overwhelmed with passion for a married, charming man. She put her hand on his erect cock through his slacks and moaned as she caressed it, sizing it up. She couldn't wait until she could free this thing. Play with it. Lick it. Suck it. Fuck it. 

It had been too long for her. And considering that her last boyfriend was a poor lover, someone selfish and uninspired and always too tired, it had been even longer since she'd been fucked properly. That boy's skinny, slouchy body didn't inspire her either. But now, wrestling with her was a sophisticated older gentlemen, a man with broad shoulders, in good shape, and with a luscious tool. 

She massaged it ardently. "Please let me hold it," she pleaded. "Please take it out for me." 

"My pleasure," he said. "I'll show it to you in the back, where we can get comfortable."

Jennifer maneuvered over the space between the two bucket seats, causing Phil to laugh. He was more patient. He stepped outside, hopped out of his shoes, socks and pants, and lay them in the passenger's seat along with his linen sportcoat. Now naked from the waist down, his half-erection jutted out beneath the flaps of his dress shirt. Phil took a moment to look at the sky, to marvel at the hazy stars on a humid summer night. 

As soon as he sat down in the back, Jennifer kissed him on the lips, on the neck, and unbuttoned his shirt button by button as she made his way down his hairy chest and abdomen. His shirt spread open to his sides and then all that was left to kiss was his penis, proud and semi-erect and capped with a touch of precum. She dove for it, starting with it far in her mouth, slurping him slowly, coaxing out a beautifully long erection. Then her head started to bob up and down... up and down... going along the length with metronomic regularity. She was tireless. It was like she was a blowjob machine. 

It goes without saying she was driving my husband crazy. 

"That's right, girl, suck it," he hissed. "Slow down and suck the whole thing. Open the back of your mouth. Go down to the base. Yes, nice and slowly like that. You can do it. Show me your talents. Show me what you can do." 

She obeyed him and opened her throat. Phil's dick isn't some obscene monster, but it's certainly on the larger side, large enough that it caused her to gag a little. But Jennifer hid her discomfort well and stuck with the blow job. She had it in her mind that she needed to prove to Phil that she was a wonderful lover. In all honesty, that wasn't far from the truth. Phil never had a hard time finding new women to seduce. He already had shortlist of regular lovers, not to mention a wife. If Jennifer didn't pass this audition, he might not want to see her again. 

Once she had relaxed her throat enough to deep throat him, she held the dick in her oral cavity for a few seconds, savoring how wonderful and sexy it felt to have a complete mouthful of cock. She wanted to lodge this feeling in her brain. She then lifted her mouth off for a deep breath and plunged again onto his dick and held it in her mouth. She did many times, still almost machine-like. Then all at once, she switched to a ravenous sloppiness. She licked around the cockhead, tickling the underside of the crown, slobbered over it kissed down the shaft, kissed up the shaft, slurped the whole thing like a popsicle, cupped his balls and kissed them. She varied her technique and did everything she could think of to prove that she could take care of his dick for him, that she loved it passionately. She fingered his anus while she spread his leaking precum all over her face, as if she were applying some sort of orgasmic makeup. Finally, Phil could take no more. 

"I have to fuck you," he groaned. "I have to fuck you. Are you wet?"

"God yes I'm wet. I don't think I've ever been this wet. It's soaking my panties. It's on my thighs." 

She sat next to Phil with her legs spread, underwear now off and dress pulled up around her waist, and massaged her fragrant pussy. Its hot, musky scent filled the car. She stuck a finger inside and brought the juices out for Phil to savor. He sucked on her pretty, manicured fingers. She kept feeding him in this way as he slowly jacked himself, drawing out a touch of precum on every stroke. Lord, she tasted intoxicating. He slurped at her fingers greedily. He longed to bury his nose and tongue directly in that pussy, but oral would have to wait. Fucking her couldn't.

"Let's get out of the car," he said. "Are you on the pill?" 


This Charming Man Ch. 02



Soon, it would be time our maid to return to the West Indies. Kaia had been coming to clean our house every two or three weeks for the last ten months. A house cleaner was a luxury a little out of our budget, and before Kaia my husband and I had never had a maid. But a male colleague of mine had mentioned this young woman to me and encouraged me to take her on, if only because she needed work and was such a sweet, hard-working girl.

She was a lovely girl, too. Her skin was deep brown, and her black eyes shined with happy light. Her bright smile sparkled with her white teeth brilliant in contrast to her skin. Kaia kept her hair in a short Afro that was practical but pretty, and her body was equally as lovely as her features. When she came to do the housecleaning, she didn't dress in a sexy way—just in a t-shirt and jeans—but her emerging sexuality was evident. Not yet twenty, she was still blooming into womanhood from adolescence. 

She always showed up on time and did her cleaning with enthusiasm while lightly singing cheerful melodies. I especially liked it when she came on dreary days. She seemed to carry with her a little sunshine from the islands. 

Kaia wore a little gold cross on a chain around her neck and was apparently from a conservative Christian upbringing, perhaps Evangelical. While she was living in the United States, she stayed with her Uncle Robert, who seemed sort of strict on her. Uncle Robert didn't allow Kaia to touch alcohol or stay out past 11 p.m. She was allowed to date boys her own age, but it was only in a limited capacity. Her dates certainly couldn't stay over to fuck her in his basement like my husband did. 

I think Uncle Robert would let Phil go downstairs to Kaia's room because Phil, in his late thirties, was older and established. He was the type to treat her well. Also, Uncle Robert came from one of cultures where it's commonplace for older men to take on much younger girls as girlfriends or mistresses. To Uncle Robert, Phil's relationship with Kaia that was something to be accepted, admired, and even a little jealous of, so he gave Phil his silent, winking approval. 

On the days Kaia came to clean, she'd take the bus to our house from the community college where she took classes. She'd let herself in with the hidden key. Later, I'd return home after picking the baby up from day care, and Phil would come back from his office about the time Kaia was finishing up. Instead of making Kaia take a long bus ride home, Phil would drive her. It was the courteous thing to do, and besides, by car it was only a twenty-minute ride round trip. Strange how Phil would always take a little over an hour. 

Of course, I knew where the extra time went, but I never asked him about it, and he never brought it up either. When he'd get home from dropping off Kaia, we'd resume our evening as if he'd just gotten home from doing any other errand. As with all the other lovers my husband had taken throughout our marriage, this affair was an understood secret. Phil loved me as a wife and as a woman, but he also loved women in general. He needed to make women feel desired and gratify them with sexual pleasure. In the end, he simply couldn't help himself from cheating on me. I eventually realized that if I were to stay with Phil, I'd have to put up with his adventures. I shouldn't take it personally. Any woman who married him would have to endure his sleeping around. And since I loved Phil so deeply, I figured that the woman might as well be me. 

Besides I liked Kaia quite a bit. Except for her uncle, she was basically alone in a land that wasn't her home, so during this year she was in the States, I sort of took on the role of older sister to her. I helped her fill out some bureaucratic forms once and explained to her what certain items were in the grocery store. And as her ersatz older sister, I have to say I approved of her sleeping with Phil. He was a good man to initiate her into matters of the heart. 

Whenever she came to clean, she confided a little in me about the boys who'd ask her out on dates. Sometimes she'd say yes to them (as long as she'd be home by curfew), but nothing much ever came of these relationships. 

One time, with a certain hesitation in her voice, she informed me there was a certain boy in particular she really, really liked. Or really, it was a certain man. Kaia told me he was married and she was close friends with his wife, so she felt guilty about the situation. With tears in her eyes, she confessed she was sleeping with the man. She didn't know what to do. She was convinced she was behaving sinfully, but she just couldn't help herself. He was so handsome and captivating, and her heart melted when he was around.

"Don't worry," I told her. "I bet you the wife will never find out. She probably has no idea. Besides, you're in this country for only a few more months. You should make the most of your time with your boyfriend. Just enjoy yourself."

My reassurance convinced Kaia to open up a little more, and she confessed she'd lost her virginity to this married man. Now whenever she'd see him, they'd have sex. And it was fantastic sex. Anything she wanted to try, anything she was curious about, he indulged her. Talking about all this made her animated, dispersing her clouds of worry. 

"He shows me things I didn't know naked people did," she said, laughing and sunny once again. 

"Sounds like quite a guy," I said knowingly.

Now she wanted my advice on something. Her boyfriend didn't like to use condoms and she was curious to try sex without them, too. However, she was terrified of getting pregnant. 

That also sounded like Phil. Like most men, he didn't like condoms. Sure, he'd put up with them when necessary but preferred bareback sex. 

"You should use another firm of birth control."

"I would, but I don't know what there is. I don't know where to begin," she replied.

Kaia really was quite sheltered. Soon after our conversation, I took her to my gynecologist. They discussed her options while I read a book in the waiting room. I paid the bill. 

The next week, Phil drove her home as normal. Wearing a glowing expression of exhausted satisfaction, he returned home more than two hours later. Hardly a twenty-minute errand. He must have been totally ensnared by the tight wetness of the young girl's bare pussy. Or maybe it was Kaia who couldn't let go of the naked feel of my husband's cock in her cunt. While cooking dinner, I saw in my mind's eye Phil pounding the hell out of her tender pussy again and again. I heard their grunts of pleasure and cries of ecstasy. My thoughts about what I had wrought made me deliciously, ravenously horny.

Phil had missed putting the baby's to bed. No matter. It meant I had no distractions. In the front hallway, I greeted him with a passionate kiss, and I could taste the musk of Kaia's cunt on his breath. It drove me wild. I sucked on his tongue but wanted more. I went for his zipper. Concerned about what I would find, Phil tried to stop me from unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants, but he was no match for my determination. All around his cock and balls, her juices and his dried spunk were still glistening, smelly, and sticky. I pushed him down on a chair and inhaled his flaccid dick. I licked his low-hanging scrotum, chasing Kaia's taste.

I've never been with another woman before or even had much of a desire to, but all of the sudden, I felt jealous of him. He was such a lucky devil to have the opportunity to play with Kaia's exotic black body and lap at her fragrant quim. I considered myself lucky at least to get a vicarious taste of her by sucking and licking his freshly fucked dick, which was now just hard enough to be a perfect fit in my mouth. I held it on my tongue not sucking, just savoring, with my jammed fingers down my panties, and I brought myself off quickly.

Their affair went on for several months more. I was able to put aside any jealousy that occasionally bubbled up in me. As Phil's wife, I saw it as one of my duties to make sure he was sexually fulfilled, and his sexual fulfillment simply required other women. Really, the only resentment I sometimes felt stemmed from the fact that Phil and I were trying to conceive another child. My husband's sperm became more than just an aspect of his sexual physicality; it was now physically precious. I didn't want it wasted on other girls. 

Still, Phil was a horny man and fucked me plenty, filling me with his spunk several times a week. Especially during the times I was ovulating, he'd fuck my pussy sore. At the end of the day, I must admit I was relieved that Kaia and his other girlfriends were there to take over some of my wifely duties. 

Kaia had never planned to permanently settle in the United States, and eventually the time was coming for her to return to her home in the Caribbean. During one of our sisterly chats, she asked me how she could make her last time with her boyfriend special. 

As his wife, I knew Phil's kinks and turn-ons. He occasionally liked to role play and explore a dominant side that was at odds with his gentle disposition. What else? He liked anal activity now and then, which included both my ass and his own. But I had misgivings about suggesting these ideas to Kaia. She was so innocent and might not react well. Besides, I didn't want to give away all my secrets. 

I thought of something tame. "You should buy some lingerie," I told her. "All men like lingerie." Well, Phil does. Over the years, he had purchased many elegant pieces for my wardrobe. 

"Oh, I love that idea!" she said. "I can already think of what I want to get."

I came up with something else. "You should also try a new sexual position for him. You know, something out of the ordinary. Something that neither of you have tried together."

"Like what?" 

I went upstairs and found a book from early in our relationship, from before Phil and I were married. It contained pages of positions, each one rated by difficulty and illustrated by a simple line drawing of how the man's and the woman's bodies should fit together. Kaia seemed amazed that such a book even existed and laughed with scandalized embarrassment. I flipped through it and landed on one of the advanced positions called "The Vixen" which had never failed to get Phil off. We hadn't done it in years. The V-shaped contortion of the position was too hard for me now that I was in my thirties, but I knew Kaia's young and limber body could handle it.

"Here. This one," I said. "I bet you your boyfriend will like this one."

With wide and smiling eyes, she committed the position to memory. "The Vixen," she said. 

About a week before she was to catch her flight back to the Caribbean, Kaia came to our house one last time to clean. When I came home with my daughter, she immediately turned off the vacuum and greeted me at the door.

"I bought a sexy outfit for my boyfriend," she said, excited about her purchase. "Can I show it to you?"

"Sure. Where is it?"

"In my bag, but I'd like to model it for you. I want to know what you think of it on me."

I told her she could try it on in the bedroom while I put the baby down for a nap. After I was done, I walked through the door to see how Kaia was doing and managed to suppress my laughter. Her taste in lingerie was—to put it bluntly—tacky. Over-the-top. The garment was a hot pink polyester lacy thing with far too many white bows and ruffles. Garters attached the corset to the stockings which had pink, frilly edges at the upper thigh. But the tackiest thing were the so-called panties, a criss-crossing of lace and straps that I wouldn't even call crotchless. They left her entire pussy exposed. 

The high-quality silk or satin lingerie Phil tended to buy for me was refined, seductive, and often quite expensive. To be fair, Kaia wouldn't be able to afford the stylish pieces I owned. And since she was still practically a girl, she naturally had girlish, unsophisticated tastes. 

"Do you like it?" she asked, modeling it for me from different angles.

"Yes, it's very nice. Super sexy. He's going to love it." And this was true. Phil would indeed love it. I had to admit that even if this lingerie was something I would never choose for myself, she did look quite alluring. The hot pink color contrasted nicely with her chocolate skin. The way the corset cupped her breasts, her nipples peeking out at the tops, made them so tempting and squeezable. Her pretty pussy, adorned by a tight thatch of wiry pubic hair and surrounded by the frilly straps, looked magnetically inviting. She reminded me of a rich chocolate cake with pink and white frosting, a little too girlish but still yummy. 

Uncontrollably drawn to her, I stepped closer. God, I wanted to eat her. "Let me see if this fits you properly." I ran my hands along her sides and up and down her stockinged legs, first one and then the other. While I was down there, my nose caught a whiff of her cunt. The smell jogged my memory of the time I had sucked her juices of Phil's cock while fingering myself. I stood up and caressed her flat belly, felt how the lingerie hugged her torso. Her breasts poked forth so proud and so cute. I couldn't resist. I captured them in my palms and fondled them. They were wonderful things to play with. Wondering how she was reacting, I cast a glance at her face. She was smiling, enjoying my attentions and no doubt wondering where this would all lead. 

I didn't know myself. But I found myself turning her around. I gently pushed her forward, having her rest her arms and head on the bed so I could get a better look at her from the back. Kaia's behind was gloriously round and full, like the circle of the moon on a deep-skied summer night. With her legs slightly splaying, the plump lips of her labia showed below her butt. My fingertips gave them a quick caress. Then, I moved my hands down her stockinged legs, then back up to the smooth skin of her bare derriere where they made continuous circles. Without realizing what I was doing, I found myself smacking her butt. Not too hard. I just liked watching her flesh giggle. Or maybe it was harder than I thought. Sometimes Kaia emitted a cute little squeal after a good spank. She seemed to be enjoying it. 

I certainly was, too. The whole dynamic felt so strange and sexually charged. I wondered what my upright, politically correct colleagues at the university would think: Here was this blameless black girl from the Third World, a poor girl forced by financial circumstance to become a maid to a bourgeois, white American couple. She's seduced and turned into the plaything of an oversexed husband and then spanked on the bare bottom by his conflicted wife. They are exploiters. The girl is at their mercy. She has no power. She has no freedom. 

But I wouldn't go so far to say that Kaia had no freedom. She could get up and leave whenever she wanted. I wouldn't stop her from walking out the door. Instead, she spread her legs wider and pushed her butt up higher to give me a better target. I kept slapping and spanking. Maybe, in fact, she was the one with the power. Maybe she was the seducer, the one playing with us. I could see why my husband found her so irresistible and made a point of never missing a fuck session with her. The girl was a delightful mélange of innocence and sensuality. She was sweet and spicy at the same time. 

I had said I wanted to eat her, and eat her I did. On the bed on her back, Kaia's legs spread outward and upward into a V, and my mouth nuzzled into her furrow. I rippled through the folds of her kitty with my tongue. This pussy was my first ever, and I couldn't imagine another one better. It was intoxicating. It had been several months since I had sampled her juices on my husband's cock, an experience I still thought about from time to time. That was nothing compared to a full drink of the real thing. My smacking lips slurped at her opening. She was rocking back and forth, humping my face, moaning lowly, lustily. 

Kaia's skin was dark chocolate but her pussy was frosting pink. I pulled away to separate the labia with two digits and plunged them deep within. My tongue tip returned to her clit, but I kept stopping to observe myself spreading her opening. Of course, I knew she would be pink on the inside like all women, but her pinkness was fantastic to witness first hand. It glistened and almost glowed against her dark complexion and black pubic hair. I couldn't get enough of playing with this adorable cunt. Now, I understood why my husband loved it so. His marriage vows committed him to be faithful to me, but who could blame him for wanting to jam his rod in this magic box whenever he had the chance? 

I stopped finger fucking Kaia and concentrated on eating her out. As her energetic hips humped forcefully in wide circles, my mouth was determined to stay with her gyrations and connected to her juicy slit. For a second, I flicked my eyes up at her to gauge her expression: she wore a tight grimace of nameless, overwhelming ecstasy. She was watching me, too, in a fashion, but her eyes were seeing some place far beyond me. I could tell she was close now. I licked and licked and licked and could have kept licking forever, but then her body shuddered as if in a seizure, her lungs gasped for air, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. I would have kept licking, but her fingers gently pushed my head away. Her vagina was too sensitive, her orgasm too much. She could take no more of my attentions. Her body twitched out pleasure's final convulsions. 

I lay next to her, and we held hands as she slowly came back to Earth. Her eyes remained closed, giving me the opportunity to study her exotic beauty without making her feel self-conscious. She really was a lovely girl. I felt content just observing her, but eventually guilty thoughts about what had just transpired started to creep in. One thing that was bothering me was that I had betrayed Phil. It didn't make sense, I know. Even though he'd slept with innumerable other women countless times, including the one I was with now, since we'd been together I had never been with anyone else, man or woman . It just wasn't who I was. It didn't feel like me. Maybe the real problem was that I had betrayed myself.

I stood up to leave the bedroom, but Kaia, opening her eyes, held onto my hand and wouldn't let me leave. "Where are going?" she asked. 

"This isn't right. I'm going ... I don't know. I'm going downstairs."

"You can't go yet. We're not done."

I tried to pull against her, but her grip was firm and she coaxed me to sit down next to her. 

"You made me feel good, so now it's time for me to make you feel good," she said. I began to protest but her hands pushed down on my chest. "Relax," she said. "Just lie back and enjoy it." 

I did what she said but remained tense. At the same time, I was undeniably bewitched by her and aroused. As I settled back on the bed, I felt her reach up my skirt to remove my panties. I lifted my hips to make it easier for her. Still, I didn't feel quite right about everything. My eyes started blankly at the ceiling while Kaia gathered my skirt around my waist. She gently pushed my legs apart. Soon enough, I felt her tongue on me. With that bit of erotic contact, my mood started to change. My mind let my worries drift away, and I focused on the physical sensations she was giving me. 

She lapped at me like a kitty drinking a saucer of milk. She gave lots of shallow little licks, one after another, right there on the tip of my clitty. I'm sure it was her first time with a woman, too, but she was a natural at this. The amazing thing was that the pressure was just right—not too hard, not too soft. The ideal pressure is one thing I've found men rarely get right. And it just felt so nice. Each little lick brought me up just a bit more. Her tongue rotated around, chasing and finding the new sweet spot as pleasure spread throughout my cunt, around my labia. My arms tingled. I felt pleasure everywhere. 




This Charming Man Ch. 02



When I'm sexually aroused, I get really wet, and by now I was quite moist and fragrant down there. I admit I felt a little embarrassed, but Kaia didn't seem to mind. She was licking away. She was enjoying herself without a doubt, but she was into in a way that was more curious than passionate. I looked down at her heavy-lidded black face, her short Afro between my thighs. Under Phil's tutelage, she became a student of sex, coming to him as a rank beginner. To her, everything they did together was as new as the morning. Phil had most likely been her first kiss, certainly the first time she felt tongue against tongue. He was the first man to ever fondle her breasts, to slurp at her nipples. The first man she'd ever been naked with or ever taken a shower with. It all was a brand new world to her. For the first time, she'd felt the tingles of fingers moving down her spine, a squeezed ass, a thick finger probing inside her. For the very first time, she'd felt a cock grow hard in her hand and learned what it was like to suck on silky balls. With Phil, she learned to explore in the shallow waters of sexual behavior and then to bravely venture in a bit deeper at a time. 

And now she was exploring me. She was studying what it would take to drive me wild and learning it quickly. Her steady licks kept taking me higher and higher. By now, I was convinced that she wasn't a plaything at all. No, she was the one toying with me like a kitten and a ball of string. She wanted to see what would happen if she ventured beyond my clit, and soon her tongue was thrusting up my cunt as far as it could go. A tongue essentially is a muscle, but I don't think many are as strong as Kaia's. She had the ability to thrust it quickly and deeply. I had never experienced anything like it before. I wasn't being eaten out. I was being fucked. Her tongue was like a stubby, undulating cock. My pussy walls kept trying to clamp down around it, but it was too elusive. It was teasing me mercilessly and driving me crazy. Without even thinking about what I was doing, I grabbed the back of Kaia's skull and jammed her face into my cunt. I was dying to get some relief. 

All at once, my thighs clamped around her head as I came hard. I screamed out, beyond caring about waking the baby. My hips humped against her face and all across her nose, mouth and chin. I was gyrating around too much for her tongue to keep fucking me, but Kaia didn't give up. She kissed, nibbled, and licked and stayed with me throughout the duration of my drawn-out orgasm that hit two high peaks before I finally came down. 

Kaia smiled up at me from between my legs. "How did I do?" she asked. Her face was covered with my juices. My mind pictured her asking Phil the same smiling question from between his legs with his white cum splattered across her lips and cheeks. 

"Wonderful," I said. "That was simply wonderful." 

We got dressed, and naturally I gave her the rest of the day off. I invited her to share a glass of wine with me, but she had never drunk alcohol before and didn't think she should start. So I made her a cup of tea while I myself had a fruity Chardonnay. With the baby playing at our feet, we chatted on the couch in the living room and talked some about her imminent return to the Caribbean. She was looking forward to seeing her family again and excited about this next stage of her life. She talked about how living in America had opened her eyes in so many ways and how she now understood how important it was to try new things. She reflected for a moment and said with a laugh, "You know, I think I will have a glass of wine." 

"Certainly, Kaia." I poured her a half glass to start. 

When Phil came home, he walked in the living room. "Hello, ladies," he said as he unknotted his tie and draped it over a chair back. Kaia and I turned to him, and both of our hearts fluttered with desire. I loved his dark hair flecked with silver, his adorable smile, his handsome face. He noticed the wine glasses. "It looks like you're having a good time," he said. 

"As it's Kaia's last day, I thought I'd give her the afternoon off," I said. I went to him, and he gave me a sweet kiss on the mouth like he does every day. I was still feeling sexual from my encounter with Kaia and I kissed him harder and longer than normal. 

Meanwhile, Kaia gathered her things so Phil could drive her home. I held both her hands in mine as we stood at the door. "Well, I guess this is goodbye," I said. I felt my eyes well up a little. She smiled warmly at me. "We'll miss you. Send us a postcard to tell us how you're doing." 

I opened my arms, and she came into my embrace. I loved the feeling of her soft breasts mashing up against mine. We gave each other a friendly goodbye kiss on the lips, but really it was just a little more than friendly. It was held a little too long and touched by an undercurrent of lust. I was a little surprised by it, especially because it was in front of Phil. Kaia must have been a little tipsy from the wine. 

I looked over to Phil who was wearing a sly, curious smile. I think he winked at me. 

They left together, and through the window I watched them walk down the path to the car. My hand came under my dress, dipped into my underpants, and touched my pussy. My thighs squeezed around my hand to relieve my horniness as I re-lived what had just transpired between Kaia and me. But it only made me more horny, as did the thought about how my handsome husband would now go fuck this young thing senseless, and vice versa. 

I began to put dinner together. I gently washed a fat, phallic cucumber and thought how the two were probably just now arriving at Kaia's house. It was on a hill. I could see the scene in my head. An old bicycle with a punctured tire rusted out in front. 

* * *

After he parked the car, Phil kissed Kaia across the front seat. This little bit of smooching quickly gave way to a slippery tongue kiss. They wanted to go further, but neither wanted to risk being seen making out in public. As they pulled away from each other, Phil grabbed Kaia's hand and squeezed it around his semi-hard cock through his pants. The lovers looked at each other lustily and went inside to get down to business. 

Uncle Robert was in the front room watching TV and drinking a can of Miller High Life. "Have seat, Phil," he said. "Come have a beer with me."

"Sit with him," Kaia said. "I'll be up there in a minute to join you. I just want to take a shower first." She went down the stairs to her basement bedroom. 

This ritual was a necessary pretense for them fucking each other. True, Uncle Robert turned a blind eye to their affair, but part of the unspoken deal was they couldn't be brazen about it. So Phil would relax with a beer and watch TV with Uncle Robert, a jovial and portly man with skin the same deep shade as Kaia's. Phil enjoyed Uncle Robert's company anyway, liked laughing at his ribald and corny jokes while they tried to outguess each other on Jeopardy. At about the time his beer was drained, Kaia would call up. 

"Come downstairs, Phil!" she'd yell. "I want to show you something down here. It will only take a moment." That moment would last quite a long time. 

This charade served the lovers well too, because Kaia always liked a little time to get ready and set the mood. Her cavernlike, basement room was a large and open space but received no natural light. Instead of turning on a lamp, Kaia would light dozens and dozens of candles. And for tonight's farewell fuck, she needed extra time to change into her new lingerie. 

When she called my husband down to "show him something," Phil nodded to Uncle Robert and began his descent down the stairs. As always, the first thing that reached his eyes was the warm glow of the candlelight, flickering and beckoning with erotic softness. The panelboard walls were taped up with movie posters and pictures of Kaia's friends and family from the West Indies. A ratty easy chair sat in one corner, a waist-high wooden dresser in another. A big bed occupied the center of the room, and then Phil took in the image of Kaia lounging on its quilt in a seductive pose. 

"Wow!" he said. "You look great!" In her birthday cake lingerie, she was adorned with lace and tied up with pink bows—a delectable present to be unwrapped. 

"You like it? I bought it just for you." She crossed and uncrossed her legs, giving him a glimpse of her bare pussy before hiding it between her thighs again. She touched a finger to her tongue and ran it along the tops of her semi-exposed nipples. She was trying on the role of temptress. She wasn't all that good at it to tell the truth, but the fact she was an innocent earnestly pretending to be a slut was even more sexy to Phil than if she had been the real thing. 

Phil grinned at her as he kicked off his shoes, jingled his belt, and quickly took off his pants and shirt. Kaia was glad to see evidence that her sexy outfit has the desired effect on him. Without any physical contact, he was already half hard, his boner pointing stiffly through the fly in his boxers away from his lean, hairy body. 

Forgetting her seductive persona, Kaia leapt up with a laugh. "I want that," she said and pulled him by his penis to her bed. She yanked off his boxers, attacked his mouth with hers, and started making out with him furiously. Her hands were all over him, running up and down his back and squeezing his muscular ass roughly before reaching between his legs. Before Phil knew what was happening, she had guided his cock into her, and her cunt was so wet and ready his dick just sheathed itself right in up to the hilt like a hand into a tailored glove. Suddenly, they were fucking. Fucking fast. 

Kaia was on fire. She typically tended to be a little shy and slow getting warmed up, and Phil would have to draw her out. Not tonight. She humped at his dick with amazing passion and fury. In the back of his mind as he tried to keep up, Phil surmised that she was so turned on because this time would be their last together. Or maybe it was the donning of lingerie that had flipped on an erotic switch in her brain. Perhaps it was the wine she'd had. But what it really was, of course, was none of that. She was fucking like mad thanks to her sexual experience just hours before. This dick in her was lighting off fireworks in her memory. Kaia was feeling electrified from her first encounter with a woman, with a woman who happened to be the wife of the man she was now fucking. 

Kaia herself wasn't consciously paying attention to what was driving her crazy. All that she knew as this fast-pistoning cock felt so good, so good, so good. Her thrusting hips met his with speed and force. 

"Kaia," Phil gasped. "You gotta stop. I'm going to come too soon."

"Oh God. Yes, come. Come in me now. I want to feel you fill me up." Her cunt refused to stop working his cock. Phil was overcome. His dick brimmed with maddening sensation. The point of no return had now passed, but he was still on the edge. He buried his face in the hollow between her neck and the mattress and cried out. His entire body shuddered as his ball sac pumped a throbbing load of his jizz into her. It pulsated in Kaia's pussy walls that gripped his dick tightly. 

They both gave deep sighs while kissing tenderly. Phil's cock, still erect, stayed buried inside Kaia, coated with her juices and his own cum. It had been a fun fuck, pleasurable without a doubt, but not entirely satisfying. Their eagerness had been too much. It had ended too quick. Phil knew he'd have to fuck her again. They couldn't part like this. And Kaia definitely needed more. Her hips compulsively continued to grind, slower but still hungry, feeding on his pole inside her. Phil let her cunt play with his cock for a time before he rolled off her. 

"You're not going home yet, are you?" Kaia asked, her voice betraying worry. 

"No, not at all," Phil replied. "I just want to unwrap this beautiful package." Although her lacy lingerie was certainly sexy, the material was cheap and harsh. It had felt rough on his skin during their last fuck. He wanted her smooth skin sliding against his for next one. He wanted to see her body naked one last time.

Phil had Kaia sit up, unhooked the teddy, and slipped it over her head. Clips were unfastened. Bows unlaced. Stockings rolled down her calves. Phil turned her over, this way and that, as he undid the complicated outfit, unveiling more and more of her body until at last its naked beauty was exposed. Those perky dark nipples, those wonderful hips curving out from a tight stomach, her tucked-in bellybutton. Kaia's deep coloring was all encompassing, like a night sea to get lost in. 

Phil caressed her body while her hands did the same to his. She traced the underside of his pectorals, explored his sleek physique with a flat hand. It traveled down to his flaccid willie. Kaia slipped it between her thumb and index finger and flopped it around this way and that. She switched her position to look at it up close.

"I'm going to miss you," she cooed to the cock as she continued to play with it. "You were my first. No one can take that away from me." She lavished his penis with attention, and penises love attention. It grew hard to her touch. Kaia cradled Phil's scrotum, enjoying its weight in her palm. She kissed the dicktip and admired the flaring head. Her mind flashed to a time several years ago when she and her virginal girlfriends were giggling about what a penis looked like, that it was ugly, wrinkly, and grotesque. Based on the rare pictures she'd come across or glances she'd stolen throughout her life, that description seemed to be true. But now she was looking at one of these things in person, one that was solid, proud and erect in her hand, and she considered it something beautiful. 

"You taught me so much," she said to it. She licked it. That was one of things Phil (and Phil's penis) had taught her. That it's wonderful to lick a dick, to stuff it in your mouth, to swallow it whole. As a girl, she'd would have been repulsed by the idea of merely touching her mouth to this snaky thing. But now she was a woman, and she loved her lover's cock in her mouth. She savored its flavor, which was enhanced by a coating of sticky female juices and male cum. With a tongue and smacking lips, Kaia cleaned it top to bottom, and then one more time, just to be sure. 

Meanwhile, Phil was on the other end on this fantastic blow job, getting horny yet again. As Kaia sucked him, his hand made circles on her round, black ass. He slapped it a few times, just like I had done. Slapping that ass was a natural thing to do. Something about it was eminently spankable. The way it jiggled was so fucking sexy. Kaia's butt was in fact still a little sore from a few hours before when I'd had my turn with it. Each one of Phil's slaps stung worse than it should have. But with that sting, memories of me returned. They impelled her to open her mouth deeper and to suck with more suction.

Phil had Kaia lift of her leg so he could get under her pussy into a 69 position. He couldn't not eat that pussy one last time. As he licked her from below and she sucked him, his own cum dripped on his face and into his mouth. This wasn't something he normally got off on or sought out, but as it was happening, it felt odd and dirty. And during their affair, if there was one overall lesson Phil had wanted teach Kaia about sex, it was that she didn't have to be ashamed it, that it was fun to be dirty. He'd should live his own example. 

So his tongue probed up that crevice where his own salty seed oozed out. He slurped it out greedily. Meanwhile, he was finding himself lost in that black cunt, its tight thatch of pubes on his chin, as he sucked and slurped away. Kaia's oral handiwork felt awesome, and every so often he'd have to pull his head away and sigh when pleasure surged. Phil rarely came from blow jobs. Instead, his dick would just get incredibly sensitive, almost intolerably so. 

Tonight, Phil was able to manage the exquisite torture by keeping all his attention on the intoxicating pussy in his face, drowning in its overwhelming scent. He'd lean back for air and then dive back in like he was diving into deep water. Indeed, he was lost, so encompassed by arousal, that he didn't really realize it when they'd started fucking. 

But at some point, his dick had found his way inside Kaia's deep wetness, and now they were rutting like animals. It was from behind. She was on her knees, and he was on his knees. His balls swayed. His cock pistoned. She was gasping staccato, and then their position shifted. He was still fucking her from behind, but they were on their sides laying on the bed. Phil drove his dick in and out and in and out of Kaia's cunt—a nice, steady rhythm. His hand groped aggressively at her tits. Pawing. Clenching. The nipples were sharply erect. Kaia's eyes were squinted closed, her mouth held open and making incoherent noises. Their bodies flowed to a new position again. He was on top of her in traditional missionary style. Her legs were extended straight, open just enough to give him access. Her legs floated up his back, crossing ankles above him and her pelvis humped at him for who knows how long, and then Kaia shifted her weight and rolled him over. Now she was on top of him, bouncing, posting up and down. Phil's hands on her sides. His legs extended straight out, and then his knees crooked up with feet beneath him. His hips thrust upward so high, the couple now was fucking in mid-air. Before he knew it, they were fucking rear-entry again, but from a different angle that before, her butt high in the air and Phil driving downward like a piledriver. He drove harder and harder, stopping for a moment within her before pulling out and driving down hard again. She grunted. She yelped. She was on top of him again and rocked on his dick with vigor. Her juices flowed all over him. This was it. This was how he was going to cum. Phil was just about to experience a fantastic release when Kaia suddenly stopped. She slipped away like smoke. 

"What?" Phil gasped, desperate from his denied orgasm.

"You can't come yet," Kaia said laughing. "Now, we have to do the Vixen." She was busy clearing off the dresser, moving the burning candles on top of it to other surfaces or onto the floor. 

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, the Vixen," Kaia said cheerily. She sat on the dresser and scooted her butt back. "Come on, let's do it."

She raised her legs high in the air as Phil approached her. One of her ankles went to his left shoulder, and she used her hands to lift the other to his right. With her body now folded up into a V, her arms went around his neck and she pulled him in for a kiss. The height of the dresser was ideal, allowing cock and cunt to align. Phil slipped right in, and they began fucking immediately, vigorously. This position indeed was incredible, Phil thought. Her cunt was entirely open to him. He drove up to the last millimeter, probably as deep as a man could ever physically get into a woman. In fact, it was more than fucking. He felt as if he were possessing her. Phil wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her whole body forcefully onto his shaft. 

Phil dimly recalled this position from somewhere in his past, and then it came to him. It was a favorite he used to do with his wife. It was from the time when they'd first been dating, when they would fuck just about every day. In the pounding he was giving Kaia, Phil felt as if he was fucking his wife as well, fucking them both simultaneously. He thought of his wife's cunt, Kaia's cunt, and his wife's cunt again. They were both wonderful in their own ways, having different contours and different places they excited his dick. 

With his strong arms wrapped around Kaia's body, he kept pulling her on to his spear, impaling her again and again. His upper body worked in sync with his thrusting hips to achieve full penetration. She was moaning loudly, and the dresser thumped heavily as it rocked from its front legs to its back legs, and Uncle Robert upstairs could doubtlessly hear such noise. But this time it didn't matter. This was their final fuck. It was time to let it all go. And Kaia did, she let it all go, her body wracked with a shaking, screaming orgasm. It was the most intense she'd ever experienced. Her sexual initiation was now complete, her final test passed. 




This Charming Man Ch. 02



Kaia's body went limp, but she was still enveloped by Phil. With her ankles at her ears, it was becoming difficult for her to take this compressed position anymore. She tried to push against his chest with her forearms, and Phil may have been dimly aware that she wanted to stop, but he wouldn't hear of it until he had his discharge. Instinctively, he gripped her tighter. His cocked pummeled into her gash. Covered with a film of sweat, Phil rasped incoherent dirty talk into her ear: "Cock, pussy, fuck, slut, cunt, big dick, take it, fuck, take my big dick." Indeed, his dick felt bigger as ever, swollen beyond belief. It felt so good to brutally fuck this young black girl with a big, swollen dick. He was so close, he was almost there, a few more strokes, and then at last he came—a seemingly endless ejaculation that erupted not just from his balls but from his whole body. 

Face contorted, Phil tensed his toes and calves to hold his pulsating dick as deep in Kaia's cunt as it would go. He held her in place until at last the final drops of cum trickled out. Kaia was still pushing her forearms against him, and he now relented. They disentangled from each other. Kaia immediately went to the bed to flop down. "Oh, that was so intense," she sighed. "My pussy is going to be so sore tomorrow. But now I'm tired." 

"Did I wear you out, Kaia?" Phil asked, not at all hiding his male pride. 

"Yes, but I think it's the wine, too. I'm not used to it." Phil lay down next to her. They kissed sweetly. "I think I need to close my eyes for a moment," she said. "Don't go yet."

"Don't worry," Phil assured her. "I'll stay right here." 

Kaia flipped over on her stomach and fell into a light half-sleep. Phil caressed her lovely black body, her flesh such a fascinating contrast with his white hand that moved down her back and up the mounds of her butt. Kaia was normally so active and energetic. It was rare thing for her body to be so vulnerable to him. He took this opportunity to take a last look at her cunt and saw his thick ejaculate coating her swollen lips and leaking from her hole. He spread her asscheeks to observe the dark star between them. He'd never had a chance to penetrate her anally, not even with his finger. Kaia thought it unnatural. Whenever Phil had tried, she gently pushed his hand away with an embarrassed smile. But now she was reposing in post-coital bliss with her defenses and inhibitions lowered.

Phil dipped an index finger in her cunt and brought a wad of cum to her asshole. He used it as lubricant and worked in his fingertip. With a little effort, he got up to his first knuckle, and moved it around. He stroked back and forth, massaging the anal passage. Kaia sighed with sleepy pleasure. Her thighs spread wider. That encouraged him to work up to the second knuckle, but he couldn't move it in much more, she was so tight. Phil enjoyed finger-fucking her forbidden hole for a little while and then took his hand away. He didn't want to exploit her, just explore her. He liked pushing her as any good teacher would.

His hand returned to caressing her firm, round ass cheeks again. He imagined that she'd sexually open herself even more her next lover, a man who'd probably be the one she would marry. When she returned to her homeland, she'd find a chaste young man from her island culture and conservative religion. They'd get married after a short courtship. He'd be as curious and lustful as she was. With her future husband, she would explore all the sexual variations possible between a man and a woman. Neither of them would ever lack satisfaction or have itches that couldn't be scratched. They'd have many children. Kaia was so sweet, sexual, and beautiful, her husband would thank God daily for the prize he had found. 

"You're going to make a very good wife someday," Phil whispered to her as he covered her with a blanket. "It will be a lucky man indeed who marries you."

He kissed her on the cheek, got dressed, and walked upstairs. 

* * *

Phil and I ate dinner together with our baby happily banging on her high-chair tray between us. My husband seemed distracted. He had a faraway look in his eye, a pensive smile across his lips. I tried to engage him in conversation, but he responded to my questions with only a few words. I knew he was thinking about Kaia. I didn't mind so much. He often got this way when an affair with a girlfriend had ended. I knew his wistful mood would pass soon enough. We cleared the table. He soaped up the dishes while humming to himself an old Cole Porter song. His melody joined up with lyrics in my head: 

It was just, just one of those nights,
just one of those fabulous flights.
A trip to the moon on gossamer wings,
just one of those things.

We watched a bit of TV together in silence and then went upstairs to get ready for bed. I got settled under the covers and flipped through a magazine, while Phil was taking a shower. He padded naked from the bathroom to the bedroom toweling off his hair. I stole a glance at his long penis swaying between his legs and admired the angle of its dangle. He might share his cock with many other women, but this is something his girlfriends don't have, this causal nakedness, this quiet and intimate domesticity of a husband and wife tucking in for a night's sleep. 

We both sleep in the nude, and Phil climbed into bed next to me. He opened up the novel on his nightstand. I don't think he was paying much attention to the story though. He hardly turned the pages. He was still lost in a reverie. I ignored him and kept up with my own reading, but at one point, and I had a funny feeling. I was sensing Phil's gaze on me. I turned my head, and indeed he was looking right at me, really for the first time all night. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 

"What?" I asked.

"I know something about you," he said slyly.

"What? What are you talking about?" 

"You're a little vixen, aren't you?" he said. 

Of course, I immediately knew what he was talking about, but I couldn't really respond. The rule was we never talked openly about his dalliances. He had me trapped in a sense. I couldn't admit what I knew, but it also would be transparent if I played dumb. So just I shrugged my shoulders. "Maybe I am a vixen, or maybe I'm not," I replied with as much mystery as I could muster. 

But I'm not good at mysterious and began to smile a little. Phil's sly expression became a smile, too, and that made me laugh. Which made him laugh. Which made me laugh more. Soon we were both cracking up together, and I was laughing so hard it was almost difficult to catch my breath.

"I'll show you what I do to vixens," he growled and pounced on me, tickling my sides.

"Stop!" I cried, trying to push him away as I reached up to his armpits to tickle him back. He held his arms close to his body to prevent me and then attacked my sides with his fingertips. We wrestled playfully, aiming for each other's sensitive spots. My hand went for his balls, and Phil's for my pussy, and then he began to bite me, and then he was under the bed sheets going down on me with determination. I hadn't been expecting anything sexual tonight, just a quiet time in bed reading a magazine, but immediately I was horny as hell. His tongue burrowed into my channel and pushed my clit this way and that. I grabbed his salt-and-pepper hair and grinded his face into my crotch. God, I felt so wet. 

What Phil was doing to me felt so different than Kaia's cunnilingus earlier that day. She had been exploratory, soft, and feminine, but Phil was confident and insistent. I loved his forceful, masculine tongue which was taking control of me even as it was servicing me. I loved his scratchy stubble on my thighs. And his lovemaking was imbued with so much more than Kaia's simple curiosity. That's not to say I didn't relish my fling with Kaia. Her tickling tongue had found all the right spots, and it had been undeniably hot to have a same-sex, extramarital experience. But ultimately, my afternoon with Kaia was little more a than a novelty. I was fond of her, but there was no emotional core. On the other hand, as Phil's tongue probed my cunt, his efforts expressed love, intimacy, and especially gratitude. He was thanking me for being such an understanding and loving wife. I not only permitted his affair with Kaia, but I had done my part to bring it to greater heights. I had arranged for her birth control. I had given her tips on how to turn him on. He was thanking me for caring about his sexual fulfillment. In return, he cared about mine. 

"I need your cock," I moaned. Phil's came up from between my legs and moved his body above mine. His penis hovered close to my breasts. It had gotten hard while he was eating me. I wrapped my hand around it and tugged at it back and forth. Just touching its silky smoothness was setting me on fire. A drop of pre-cum glistened at the tip. I licked it off. "Put it inside me," I urged. "I need it now." 

And Phil did what I asked. He positioned his body in the right spot as I guided him into my cunt. In a few strokes, he went all the way up. Arms supporting his body, he began pumping me, fucking me in such a way that the area above his cock would rub into my clit. It felt nice, and I thrust against him in such a way to accentuate the feeling. 

"Hold on, I want to get something," he said, withdrawing from me. He dug around in his nightstand and picked out a silicone cock ring with little clit ticklers and a vibrating bullet. I watched him slide it down his handsome hard prick, already lubricated by my juices. The bullet was buzzing.

"Oh, I can't wait," I moaned, and I didn't have to. Phil slid his cock back inside me, and now my man was fucking me right, again pushing his body upwards to stimulate my clit. The buzzing toy, the little ridges, the way he was moving his hips ... it all felt so wonderful. And most of all, I loved his attention. This fuck was all about me. It was about his love for me and how grateful he was to be married a woman who understood him so well and cared about him so much. I felt his love and gratitude in each thrust. Since this fuck was my fuck, I didn't need to worry at all if I was pleasing him back. I let Phil do the work and allowed myself to become lost in the sensations he was giving me. My body felt as if it were floating off to a high cloud. A calm, glorious bliss surrounded me, enveloped me. I didn't feel pressure to reach an orgasm, and none seemed imminent. Instead, I was simply experiencing a wonderful sexual buzz, ramped up high, flowing throughout my body. My husband's thick cock went in and out of me, and for the time being, that's all there was. Normally, I have such vivid sexual fantasies. Normally during sex, my brain is as electrified as my body is, but this time my mind was peacefully empty. Any erotic thoughts I might have had were sublimated into my all-over body hum. My eyes stayed closed so I could allow myself to relax into these majestic sensations. I really didn't have any idea how long we were fucking. It felt outside of time. But at some point, I became aware that Phil was gasping and pumping his ejaculate into me with the buzzing tickler held firm against my clit. I gripped his dick with my vaginal muscles as I started to gradually descend from my high.

"Oh, you came," I cooed happily.

"Yeah, sorry. I couldn't help it." 

"Oh no, don't be sorry. That was wonderful," I said. "I'm glad you came. Maybe you got me pregnant." I wrapped my legs around him, and my hips gave a little thrust upward trying to coax out the last drops. 

We kissed goodnight. Like my obstetrician recommended, I made sure to fall asleep on my back so my husband's sperm could swim around inside me. 

* * *

Anastasia and I sat drinking coffee in my living room.

"Can you come every Wednesday?" I asked.

"Yes, Wednesdays are fine." 

"Do you do laundry, too?"

"Certainly, that's no problem." 

"May I ask how long you have been a maid?"

"Not long," she admitted. "Just since my divorce." Her complexion was quite pale, her shoulder-length hair an ethereal blonde. She spoke in a Russian accent with a sultry huskiness. Anastasia appeared to be in her early forties and seemed a well-kept woman. Her clothes weren't expensive, but they belied a sophisticated sense of style in their wearer. Her hairstyle and make-up skillfully brought out her most attractive features. Her hands seemed well cared for, the recipients of a lifetime of manicures. They didn't have roughness to them like a maid in her forties should have. 

I probed her for details about her divorce while being careful to not appear too nosy. From what I could gather, she'd just split up from her husband not three months before. It must have been an ugly falling apart, because she mentioned lawsuits. 

"Well, at least that's behind you," I said.

"No, not really," she responded. "It's going to go on for a while. My lawyer says at least another six months. Maybe even a year or more." Anastasia seemed to enjoy talking about her break up, or at least she felt the need to unburden herself of her heavy story. It turned out that Anastasia had won full custody of the nine-year-old son she'd had with her ex-husband, whom she was now suing for alimony and child support. Her ex was quite wealthy and had a high-priced lawyer who was drawing out the dispute. But Anastasia's counsel was certain of an eventual windfall. Until then, she was broke and was taking any work she could find. I felt sorry for her. She seemed lonely and needy. I figured she wouldn't want a serious relationship right now but could still use some male companionship. She could use some hot sex with a handsome, charming man to make her forget her troubles. 

"So you don't have much experience as a maid then?" I asked. 

"No, not really. But I can try hard. I hope you'll consider me. I do need the work." 

I just nodded and smiled. I wasn't hiring her for her cleaning ability anyway. During our conversation, I discreetly assessed her form and knew Phil would admire those shapely legs, those melon-sized breasts. It wouldn't take him long.



This Charming Man Ch. 03



My husband was reading a magazine in an armchair while waiting for me to get ready. He didn't hear me come down the stairs. I leaned against the door frame with one hand extended upward and the other on my hip. My shimmering blue gown showed off my classic curves. "I'd go out tonight," I said in a breathy voice, "but I haven't a thing to wear."

Phil glanced toward me. "You look great!" he said looking me up and down. His gave a wolf whistle that was ironic, but also sincere.

I'm not vain, but I must admit my thirties have treated me well. I've grown into my beauty. As a teenager, I was too thin, even scrawny, but time and a pregnancy has filled me out and softened my somewhat angular facial features. With my formfitting dress, I was going for the look of a bombshell movie actress from the forties, and I wore the dangling sapphire earrings Phil had given me that morning as an anniversary present. I took care not to overdo my makeup, but I had applied my blush heavier than normal. I once read somewhere that the underlying purpose of blush is to mimic the flush of sexual excitement. It makes men aroused, and I really wanted Phil to give me a proper dicking tonight.

Tonight wasn't just any anniversary; it was our tenth. To celebrate, we'd made reservations at an upscale hotel steakhouse and booked our regular babysitter, Cory, to watch our daughter for us. While Phil had been waiting for me, Cory played with our girl on the floor, but I knew the whole time she'd been stealing glances at Phil.

She and Phil had a thing going on, but then again, all women were attracted to Phil. Once when we were first dating, on a brisk and bright afternoon I kissed him goodbye before I went in to meet a friend at a coffee shop. My friend, who was sitting at a window table, had seen us.

"Is that guy your new boyfriend?" she asked when I sat down.

"I think so," I said, then smiled. "I certainly hope so."

"He looks like a boyfriend," she said, more to herself than to me, as she craned her neck to watch him walk away.

That characterization of Phil always stuck with me. He looks like a boyfriend. But what did that mean? I suppose my friend was referring to his friendly and open face, handsome without being too perfect, cute while still being manly. He looked like someone who laughed easily, who'd be comfortable meeting your friends male and female. His body was athletic but cuddly. Sexually, he seemed open-minded and available. Any girl could tell he'd be fun in bed. I personally knew that to be the case. I loved fucking him, and just as much, I loved waking to find him next to me in the morning. All these years later, he was my husband of a decade, but he still looked like a boyfriend to me.

As the hostess checked for our reservation, I looked over at him and thought he looked quite dapper with his classic-cut suit and his grandfather's cufflinks gleaming at his wrists. If I was an actress from the bygone days of Hollywood, he was my male co-star. He'd just shaved his beard and his haircut was growing out, giving him a tousled, rakish look. He was irresistible to me.

We were led in front of a little jazz combo—brushed drumming, a muted trumpet, and a lady with a rose in her hair crooning a bluesy number. Typically, I don't hearing live music when I dine, but right now it set a perfectly romantic mood. Our booth even had privacy curtains. After the waitress brought us our cocktails, I pulled the curtains shut and snuggled up close to my husband.

I kissed him on the lips, but gingerly. I didn't want to mess up my make-up. Maybe I should have indulged in the passion I was feeling, but I wanted to look pretty for him.

We looked at our menus and talked over our options. My hand absent-mindedly stroked Phil's thigh. I needed to do more, so I reached my hand down to his crotch. I was so attracted to him; I couldn't help it. I gave him another kiss, this time with more ardor, make-up be damned. I caressed his package through his slacks as I rested my head on his shoulder. My hand gripped his girth which lay on his left thigh and made an appealing outline through the material. I rubbed it with a soft hand. I felt such an urge for him, my heart fluttered.

"Do you want a little lipstick on your dipstick?" I asked.

Phil laughed. "What if the waitress comes back?"

"C'mon. I know you love the thrill of public sex, the risk of it."

"It's true. I do," he shrugged. "Go quick." He unzipped his pants and freed his member through his fly. Contrasted with his civilized clothing in this refined setting, his arching, veiny cock protruded like a lustful interloper, a visitor from our animal natures.

I scooted my body down on the banquette and wrapped my lips around Phil's penis. Covered by background murmur and clinking silverware, my sucking sounds only reached my ears. I warmed up with the head of the penis, then let my mouth travel farther down the shaft. Maybe Phil was gasping and moaning, or maybe not. Maybe he was pretending to read the menu as I blew him. I had no idea and in a way didn't really care. At this time, it was just me and this penis. This was one becoming of those blowjobs in which for me the male organ was its own entity, and the man it was attached to was pretty much secondary. I kissed it and suckled it and made love to it.

But I couldn't give this handsome penis the full treatment it deserved. It was just a teaser for later. To be frank, I was indeed nervous about getting caught. Here I am, I thought, a university professor in an upscale restaurant. I shouldn't be giving a blowjob under the table to a man, even if that man is my husband. That tension between what was natural and what was civilized was wetting my pussy. I knew I should stop soon but I just wanted one more lick, and then just one more. Down here on the floor of this plush restaurant, this penis and I were in our own little world. I didn't want to leave it. I knew I should. Why then did I take the whole thing in my mouth and devoured it? My arousal and my confusion were getting to be a bit too much. I gave the dick one final slurp and picked up my head.

Saliva rolled down my chin. My lipstick was smeared and my hair in disarray. Both my husband and I wore strained expressions of unfulfilled lust, and we touched hands as we recovered and breathed deeply. Just then the waitress parted the curtain. Phil quickly flapped the tablecloth over his nakedness.

"Are you ready to order?" the waitress asked as she put down our cocktails.

"Um..., I think we still need a few more moments to decide," Phil said. I brought a napkin up to my mouth to cover and dry it.

"Sure, take your time," the woman said without seeming to have noticed anything. She closed the curtain. My husband and I exhaled, then shared a long, long laugh. I gripped his cock through the draped tablecloth and gave it a playful squeeze.

"We're going to have a fun night tonight," he said. "I love you."





This Charming Man Ch. 03



"I can't say."

"Tell me," Phil ordered.

"I, I think about you," she admitted with embarrassment.

"I want to watch you use it."

Cory already felt so vulnerable. Phil remained fully clothed and in control, while she was naked and on her back in front of him with her nipples tight and pussy glistening. Masturbation had always been something she only did in private with the lights off. Being forced to play with herself underneath his gaze would be humiliating, but she knew he would insist. Saying no was not an option.

She pressed the buzzing tip of the vibrator against her clitoris but immediately drew it away. Her nub was so sensitive, so swollen, it was hard to bear. Her eyes darted quickly to Phil's handsome face, but he didn't meet her eyes. Instead, he was sternly staring at her nether regions, his arms crossed and waiting for her to begin. Biting her lower lip, Cory began at the lower end of her vagina and eased the vibrator across her opening. She closed her eyes, trying to relax into the experience and to let her mind wander.

Out of habit, her masturbatory mind began thinking about Phil and searched for sexual memories of him. She recalled their very first time. He'd charmed his way inside her home without her even realizing how he did it. Then he screwed her like it was his right to do so. And she thought about the other four times Phil had invited himself in after driving her home in the evening. He would rip off her panties, fuck her quickly, urgently, and synchronize his orgasm expertly with hers. Then, light-loined and loose-limbed, he'd trot back down the stairs with barely a good-bye. Cory would be left dazed and panting on the bed, her legs splayed, her cunt sensitive and sore, and her ass soaking on a big, wet spot on the blanket.

She had replayed those five times over and over in her mind's-eye while using this very vibrator, and now it was weird masturbating about Phil when she knew he was right there standing over her, watching. But the strangeness of the situation was also fucking hot, so before long she was flicking the wand in and out of her cunt, gently gyrating her hips, moaning.

She then felt something across her lips. She opened her eyes and Phil's fat dick was right there in her face, jutting out of his fly.

All their previous couplings had been hurried, and this was the first time Cory had a chance to see Phil's dick up close, and she marveled at how beautiful she thought it was. "Take a look, Cory," he said. "Take a good look. See those lipstick smears? My wife gave me a blowjob in the restaurant. Right there at the table in public. Now, I want you to lick off that lipstick. Clean it off for me."

She thought it might be easier to do this task by getting on her knees in front of him, but she didn't know if she was allowed to stop masturbating yet, so she kept churning the vibrating tool in her pussy. Cory stuck out a flattened tongue and closed her eyes again. That seemed to please him enough. She felt Phil run his penis all over her mouth. Occasionally, she smacked her lips together and sucked at whatever portion of his penis was in front of her, be it the head, the base, or somewhere in between. When she felt him running his balls all over her face, she tried to lick them whenever they neared her lips. Cory wasn't experienced with blowjobs and didn't know if she was doing it right.

It didn't seem to matter to Phil, because the next thing she knew, he was at the standing foot of the bed. He pulled her by her legs until her butt lined up to the mattress edge, and then he had her prop her feet on the wooden bedposts, her thighs spread wide open at almost 180 degrees. Phil took his hard cock and rubbed it all around her pubic area. He pressed the cockhead to her clit and withdrew, doing this repeatedly as if the mouth of his penis were giving it kisses. Drooping strands of precum connected their pleasure points whenever he pulled away. The musky scent of Cory's cunt permeated the stuffy air of the attic room. Uncontrollably, her hips humped upward and tried to capture Phil's cock inside her desperate vagina; its length rubbed everywhere between her thighs.

"Oh, Mr. Sanders," she moaned. "Please, put it in me... please."

Of course, Phil wanted to. This young, tight pussy pulsating along the shaft of his dick was so tempting. It would feel so goddamn good to sink himself in there and forcefully fuck the hell out of this cute, submissive and utterly willing babysitter. But he couldn't do it. He knew once he started, he wouldn't be able to stop. He'd end up cumming in her, and tonight was his tenth anniversary. He knew that his wife was at home waiting for him.

What's more, Cory knew it, too. Cory had even brought them an anniversary card when she'd showed up to babysit. It was a special night for him and his wife, but she didn't care. This horny slut moaning and writhing beneath him only cared about satiating her lust on his thick dick. It didn't matter to her that on tonight of all nights it should be his wife on the receiving end of it. Phil started to get angry.

"No," he snapped, turning away from her. "How dare you?"

"Why?" Cory was shocked at his sudden anger. She sat up and scooted toward the headboard "What's the matter? What did I do?" She covered herself up with a blanket.

"What did you do? It's my anniversary tonight. I'm married. Understand? Married." He held up his left hand to show his ring finger. "And here you are begging me to fuck you, you little slut." He pulled up the clothing at his ankles over his fading erection.

"I'm sorry," Cory sniffed.

"Have you no respect for my wife?"

She began to cry a little. "Oh, no. No. I have lots of respect for Mrs. Sanders. I admire her so much. I'm jealous of her. She's so beautiful. She's so smart and classy—and she has you."

They looked at each other for a moment, and Phil softened his demeanor. His anger dissipated. "But you have someone too, right? Don't you have a boyfriend of your own?" he asked. "I thought you did."

"Yes, well, I guess you'd call him a boyfriend. I don't know what he is."

"What do you mean?"

Cory began to explain to Phil about Tim. They'd been dating for about four or five months and went out to parties or the movies occasionally, but he was non-committal about their relationship. It was mostly about him coming over to her place for sex. Phil pressed her for details and was dismayed to hear how poor a lover Tim seemed to be. As a horny young man, he could get it up again and again. Their sex sessions could last a long time, but during them he would just hump her over and over like a thoughtless jackrabbit. Cory never felt satisfied and never had a orgasm. Although she'd once asked him to eat her out, he refused to do it, saying it was smelly down there.

"You're foolish to put up with that," Phil said. "How old is he, twenty? At that age, a guy will do whatever it takes to get pussy. You have all the power, you know. You just have to take it. He'll do whatever you say."

"Really?"

"Of course. Where is he right now?"

"He's probably at home waiting me for to call him and ask him to come over," Cory said.

"I want you to call him," Phil said, his voice adopting a commanding tone again. "Because I can't fuck you tonight, you're going to fuck him instead. But this time things are going to be different between you and him, understand?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm going to tell you what I want you to do to him. I want you to take control. You had better not disobey me. If I find out you didn't follow my directions, and I will find out, I won't have anything to do with you again. Understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Sanders."

"Now, when he gets here, here's what you're going to do." Phil invented five orders for Cory and counted them off on his fingers one by one.





This Charming Man Ch. 03



"I'm such a slut," she thought, bobbing happily away. "This is the second dick I've sucked tonight."

Tim had insisted she give him blowjobs before, but she never enjoyed them. Just like when she had intercourse with him, there was no real connection. Whenever she gave him blowjobs, it was as if he was using her mouth as a masturbation aid, nothing more. But tonight she was in charge. She was sucking him off on her own terms. It was getting her really fucking turned on.

She could have gone on for a while more, but Tim suddenly grabbed the back of her head and started fucking her face, moving his hips back and forth. Cory jerked her head away. She slapped him on the ass and looked up at him angrily.

"Did I say you could do that?" The confidence in her voice surprised even her.

"No, you didn't. I'm sorry."

"Don't do it again."

"Sorry," he said again.

Yes, she was still firmly in control. It was time for her to follow the next one of Phil's commands: Make him eat your pussy.

"Get on the bed, lying face up." Cory ordered. Tim did what she told him to do, which ultimately was what Phil was telling him to do.

He kicked off his underpants that were bunched around his ankles. Although Tim was now naked, Cory was still dressed in a blouse and a skirt. She pulled down her undies and then moved over Tim's lithe body to put herself in position. When the young man realized what was about to happen, he started to protest.

"Eat me," Cory said before Tim could really get any words out. Her pussy landed squarely on his mouth. His was trying to say something, but his voice came out muffled. She ignored it and kept her cunt where it was. She couldn't see his head hidden underneath her skirt, but finally she felt his mouth open and begin to suck on her clit

"Yes, Timmy," she hissed. "If you want to be my boyfriend, you're going to have to start eating my pussy. Things are going to be different from now on."

For someone who often felt self-conscious, especially during sex, Cory liked that her companion's face was hidden. The privacy was comforting. She peeled off her shirt, threw it on the floor, and ran her hands up her breasts. She massaged them, squeezed them and pinched her nipples as she humped her hips across Tim's face, slathering it with her pussy juices. She allowed herself to moan softly, then louder. Cory closed her eyes and concentrated on the wondrous feelings between her legs.

Tim had obviously accepted that he wasn't getting out this and now did his best to pleasure her. His slithery tongue seemed to be probing everywhere. Cory's entire body felt so alive. She was still aroused from her earlier sexplay with Phil. The fact that Tim was doing whatever she said was turning her on even more. Yes, it was about time for a guy to be at her disposal instead of the other way around. Her thighs clenched together, totally trapping Tim's head, and she pushed her palms on the wall above the headboard. Then, sliding aggressively back and forth between Tim's chin and nose while his lips slurped, she came—came harder than she could remember—with her voice crying "oh, oh, oh, oh," over and over.

Tim gasped for air as soon as she dismounted his head. His face was flushed red and covered with her pungent juices. Cory lay down next to him and relaxed with a deep sigh.

"Did you just have an orgasm?" Tim asked.

"Sure did."

"I've never seen you do that before. Was that your first time?"

"Yes," but she added in her mind, 'Well, my first time with you.' Cory played idly with his balls and erect dick while kissing him vigorously and licking around his mouth to enjoy her own taste on him. That felt so kinky to her. "I told you things were going to be different tonight," she said.

Cory casually jacked him off, and it wasn't long before felt she was ready for more. And she had to be. She had more of Phil's instructions to carry out:

Fuck him—but don't let him get off, he had ordered her.

Cory opened the drawer to her bedside table and found a strip of Lifestyles. She tore one off and tossed the rubber on his chest. "Put this on."

Tim unrolled it on his dick, but it didn't go down all the way. He wasn't yet experienced enough at condom use to think to check if he was putting it on upside-down. Cory saw he was having trouble. She impatiently grabbed it and slid it on the right way. Before Tim knew it, the head of his dick was poking into her pussy.

Usually when they fucked, he would position himself on top of her, and it would take him a while to push into her because she wouldn't be wet enough. But tonight her cunt was slick, open and ready for fucking. She sunk down on him effortlessly, like a hand slipping into a glove, and she immediately began moving up and down as if she were posting on a horse or bouncing on a oversized, rubber toy ball. Indeed, Tim felt indeed she was using his penis as her own toy. He had never seen her like this. Even through the condom, the sensations were amazing. Her big tits with their big nipples jiggled enticingly above him, and he reached up to fondle these amazing orbs. All at once, he felt he was about to bust a nut. He announced, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum."

Cory jumped off him. "No!" she shouted. Tim's orgasm receded from the brink. "No, you're not going to cum until I say you can." She grabbed another rubber and slapped it on his dick.

"But I won't be able to feel anything with two of them on," Tim protested.

"That's exactly the point."

She got on him again and rode his pole, bucked and bounced. For Cory, Tim's dick felt nice, very nice, but it didn't fill her up like Phil's did. She ground her cunt ferociously into Tim's pelvis to capture every last millimeter, but it wasn't quite enough.

Maybe the issue was that Tim didn't have a hold on her erotic mind like Phil did, so she began thinking about Phil, her handsome, older lover. She imagined she was fucking him instead of Tim. She thought of how just an hour ago he had fingered her roughly, how he rubbed his dick across her face and lips, how he had teased her with the length of his cock rubbing all over her vulva, but the bastard had refused to put it in. Until now. Now, she had that cock in her cunt, and she was fucking it good.

She pictured Phil's manly, filled-out body that contrasted with Tim's slim, post-adolescent one. She imagined Phil's easy smile, his salt-and-pepper-hair, his kind and knowing eyes that grew smoky when he was telling her what to do. The man indeed had a hold on her. He had ordered her to fuck her young boyfriend, so she had to do it.

Cory suddenly found herself drawn back into the present. She noticed that Tim's face held a grimace of sexual intensity as she continued to grind on him ferociously. He looked confused by this unexpected experience. He looked a little overwhelmed. He also looked kind of handsome and sweet. Cory wondered if, beneath her disappointment in him as a lover and boyfriend, she might actually be quite fond of him. She leaned forward to give him a kiss, and Tim reacted electrically. His tongue thrashed around the inside of her mouth with a passion she hadn't know he possessed. With that, her vaginal walls tightly gripped his double-wrapped dick. Her body shuddered. "Oh baby, your dick feels so good. You're making me come," Cory moaned. "Oh, Tim. Oh Tim..." It pleased her that she felt connected enough to him that she'd want to call his name.

When it was done, she dismounted. "Oh Tim, that was wonderful."

"Was that another one?" he asked.

"Yes, it was even better than the last."

She pulled off the condoms, tossed them on the floor, and again lazily enjoyed stroking his cock as she recovered from her orgasm. Tim's tool was seeping pre-cum. "Please, Cory," he whimpered as he humped upward at her fist. "You're driving me crazy. I need to cum."

"No, not yet," she said, thinking about Phil's remaining orders. "I've got a few more things I have to do."

Tim's brow furrowed. "What do you mean things you have to do?"

She smiled. "I mean, some things I want to do."

This next one of Phil's commands had made her the most nervous when he told it to her, and after Phil had left and she was waiting for Tim to arrive, Cory didn't know if she'd be able to go through with it. But now fresh off of two lovely orgasms and feeling fully in control of the situation, her previous worries about it were gone.

Use your toy on him, Phil had ordered.

Phil hadn't specified what that meant exactly, but Cory had her ideas. She pulled the hot pink vibrator out of her night stand along with a bottle of lube. "Pull up your knees," she told Tim.

Tim lay flat on the bed with his legs crooked up as Cory slipped a pillow under his ass. "What are you doing?" Tim asked nervously. "What's that pink thing for? I don't think I like where this is going."

Cory poured a blob of lube on her fingers. She started rubbing it around Tim's asshole, slowly working the slickness inside. "If you don't like what I'm doing to do, you're free to put your clothes on and leave. But if you do, remember, you can never come back," she warned. Cory didn't want him to leave and knew he wouldn't. That was the power of pussy. Still, just in case he was getting antsy, she put his cock in her mouth for a few slurps to ratchet up his desire again. As she sucked, her index and middle fingers kept lubing him up and probing deeper into anus.

Tim put his forearm over his eyes. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Shh!" Cory whispered sharply.

It was time to get down to business. She held up her pink toy in front of her face, coated the tip with more lube, and set it buzzing. She brought it back down to his anus, nicely stimulated from her fingers. Tim felt her begin to work the vibrator into his ass. She pushed it up just a bit, but his ass was tight. Tim whimpered. Cory pushed on. Soon, she had the tip in, and then just a little bit more. Tim was taking in a deep breath, hissing through his teeth.

"Oh, that hurts. But it feels good, too," he said. "Push it in more. More, more." His change of heart surprised Cory, but of course she was happy to oblige. His puckered anus wrapped around the toy as she worked in and out of him, going a little deeper each time. Tim was groaning. His eyes were shut tight. She still didn't have all that much of it yet—just an inch or two—but Tim said, "Oh, that's enough. Fuck, I'm going cum. Please let me cum. Get on top of me and fuck me." His dick was swollen, angry red, and throbbing. Its slit was leaking precum.

She thought of Phil's last command: Don't let him get off from your pussy or your mouth. Make him masturbate.

"No, I'm not going to fuck you. You can cum, but you have to play with yourself," she said. "Do it now."

Tim's hand immediately went to his dick and whipped up and down furiously. His balls bobbled beneath his blurred right fist. It didn't take long. The eruption began. Voluminous, pulsating jets of semen flew out of Tim's dickhole to coat his hairless chest with sticky, hot, white goo. His pelvis arched up from the bed as his hand kept throttling his tool. Tim's cum leapt to his face and splattered in his hair; some went into his moaning mouth. And the cum kept coming. Cory held her vibrator in place and watched in pride and amazement at what she had wrought, at her boyfriend bucking on the bed in delirious ecstasy. But she knew the credit was ultimately due to Phil. She felt his presence very strongly in the room. In a sense, she felt it was Phil's phallus penetrating Tim's tight asshole as he writhed, and it was Phil's cum shooting onto the young man's chest and face.





This Charming Man



"No, but my period is going to begin any day now."

He had her lean on the hood with her head on her forearms and her compact little ass sticking out to him. Feet together and cock in hand, he lined himself up with her cunt and plunged in directly to the hilt, balls deep. It slid in effortlessly, but still she was so fucking tight. Oh, man. He tried to wait for a while to enjoy her warmth and wetness, but he couldn't wait long. With a will of their own, his hips started to stroke back and forth. Slow at first, but quickly picking up speed. There was no holding back. 

Soon, Phil was fucking her senseless, hammering away into her tender pussy. He couldn't see Jennifer's face, only the glinting cascade of her hair in the darkness, but her voice wavered out a constant moan, somewhere between pleasure and pain. The position he'd put her in strained her thighs and calves. The car's steel pushed hard on her arms and head. Her elbows grew rough as they worked to brace against the power of Phil's thrusts. Here, there were no pillows. This wasn't a lacy boudoir. It was lust and metal. It was hard, masculine fucking. She was uncomfortable, but the intensity of this fuck was overwhelming and glorious. She wanted him to fuck her forever. The stars rotated deliriously above them. The mid-summer night vibrated with throbbing locusts.

Phil moaned, too, but not as loud as the girl. He was never too noisy during sex. Rather, his pleasure came out in raspy gasps and grunts, expressed by a face contorted in ecstasy, and his orgasm approached and he pistoned endlessly into her exquisite cunt. Soon, Jennifer found her own orgasm. Her skinny pelvis humped back against him furiously. She cried out so shrilly that a pair of dogs in the distance started barking, and a porch light came on. Her vagina contracted around Phil's dick. It hoped to coax out his climax, dying to pull out his cum from the depth of in his balls that were bouncing between her legs and smacking softly against them. Her walls spasmed. Her hips bucked. It was too much to take.

The sperm flew out in hot fire bursts. His penis pulsated with each ripple of pleasure. Phil had stopped moving. He gasped over and over. This fuck ended where it began, with his stationary dick lodged in as deeply as it could physically go, but now he held her hips in place with his strong hands. His scrotal reservoirs emptied; cum dribbled out his dick deep into her cunt. Wetness was all around him. His heaving breath slowly wound down. The distant dogs went quiet. The porch light disappeared. The couple stayed splayed against the car for several minutes, taking the time to return to reality.

Phil disengaged and returned to the backseat. He reclined against the far door with his legs out. She scooted in and snuggled her back into his chest. His arms rested across her shoulders, hands on her belly, and he kissed her fondly on the cheek. 

"That was fantastic," he said. "That was a truly fantastic fuck." 

"How did you do that to me?" she asked in wonderment. "I would never have had outdoor sex before. I was always to nervous to even consider it. How did you make me do that? Who are you?"

Phil just laughed. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."

"Oh, you know I did. I agree, it was wonderful. It was a real treat. I needed that." And really nothing else she could have said could have pleased my husband more. His womanizing isn't driven by an egotistical compulsion to conquer, after all. He doesn't keep a kiss-and-tell scorecard in his mind or brag to buddies. What moves him is a wish to give women pleasure, to make them feel desired and beautiful, to help them out when they don't have a good man in their lives. 

"We should do it again sometime," he suggested.

"Really? I'd love that. I was hoping you'd want to see me again," she said. She turned around and kissed him quickly on the lips. "You know, you can fuck me whenever you want. I know you're married, but I don't mind. I'll be discreet. No one will know. I just want to get you in a bed. I want to see your whole naked body in the light. I want to fuck you in the shower. I want to do so many nasty things with you. Whatever you want to do, I'll do it. Just promise me you'll call me."

"I promise I'll call you," he said sincerely. She kissed him deeply and rested her head on his chest. He would call her, too. Jennifer certainly was worth his time. She was lovely, eager, and a generous lover.

Phil was good at managing his lovers. He knew how to rotate them throughout his weeks and months and keep their expectations in check. And his love of women meant he understood them well. He learned how to spot the crazy, obsessive ones early on and avoid them entirely. If a lover ever started growing too serious, too possessive, he'd sense that too and end things then and there. But his methods weren't abrupt or callous. He'd never ignore their calls or texts. In a gentle, in-person speech, he'd assure them that parting ways really was for the best. And they'd accept his words with a sweet kiss and moist eyes. How he magically did this was another part of his charm. And I could normally tell when he'd broken up with a girlfriend. He'd wistfully whistle "Just One of Those Things" as he puttered around the house. 

"Listen, Jennifer," he said finally. "I really should get going."

"Oh, I know," she said. "It's too bad. I like it here cuddling with you." 

"Before I go, can I ask you for a favor?"

"Sure."

"I'd like to see your tits before I go." 

Phil's hairy body was naked except for his unbuttoned Oxford shirt, but Jennifer was still wearing her summer dress. Instantly, she pulled down the shoulders straps and lowered the material to her waist. She thrust her breasts out at him and hoped for his approval. 

Jennifer had a lithe, almost boyish body. Just as her ass was tight and compact, her tits were on the smaller side. But they were perky and felt nice between Phil's fingers. He squeezed them, played with them. He caressed the nipples and gently tugged. The nipples grew hard beneath his fingertips like bullets. With large, dog-like licks, his lapped a wide tongue over the left one, and then the right one, going from one to the other. Awash in pleasure, Jennifer rolled her head back and forth on the head rest. Eventually, Phil stopped his licking and began to suck, ejecting the boobs from his mouth with a jiggle. My man's a breast man, and he loves smaller tits like Jennifer's as much as he does other women's full, Playboy-style boobs. With these mango-sized breasts, he could slurp all of the flesh into his mouth at once, fully devour her with eager chomps. He was starting to get turned on again. His hard dick pointed towards the girl's cunt.

"I don't have time to fuck you," he whispered huskily. "We really ought to go. But just want to put it you one more time. I just want to feel you again. Is that OK?" 

"Yes, please. I want to feel you, too." She lay down on the seat and my husband climbed on top of her. This time, Phil went slower. The head of his penis nestled along the folds of her vulva. He massaged it against her clit. "Please," she gasped. 

Beneath the nub, more delicate folds opened in front of her silky passage. He eased it in slowly. Despite that vigorous fucking earlier, her cunt was still tight and even wetter now that it contained Phil's viscous ejaculate. Going in slowly, a little bit deeper each time on the in-stroke, his aerodynamic cock displaced his own cum. His seed seeped out onto Jennifer's messy inner thighs. Each time his cock entered her fully, the cum came in contact with his balls which were soon soaking too. Their slapping genitals were just a big, wet, skanky mess. The pleasure was building in Phil. He huffed and grunted. The pleasure kept rising and he rode it. That was stupid to suggest he was going to put it in for only a moment just to "feel" her. No, this was to be a hot, fast, encore fuck. 

He wanted to come as quickly as possible without any sort of self-denial. He rode his rising pleasure like a surfer finding a groove in his wave, like a horseman sensing his horse's intentions, like a snaking running back penetrating a defensive line. He penetrated her humping body with full oscillating strokes. She moaned continuously. His pleasure kept building and building, higher and higher, until it collapsed under its own toppling weight. Suddenly, his straining body went slack, back arched, and his dick pumped out yet another healthy wad of cum. 

He gave a quick exhale when it was done. "Oh wow," he said. "That was another nice one." 

She took his head and kissed him. "You're really quite a man. You make me realize I've really only been with boys before."

Phil stepped out of the car to get dressed. As he was hopping back into the legs of his pants, he once again surveyed the stars. They pulsated from deep space, from infinity. On Earth, in these summer woods, the leaves hung thick from the trees, and the cicadas' mating call pulsated. Back in my bedroom, my body shuddered, the last convulsions of a long, rolling orgasm.

***

I was dozing off when I heard them pull up. With the engine running, the car lingered in our drive for a while before Phil finally got out and I heard its door shut. The car drove off, the front door rattled, and Phil came in. 

His footsteps treaded lightly up the stairs. He checked on our sleeping daughter and came into our bedroom. "Hi, baby," he whispered to me, not sure if I was asleep.

"Hi," I murmured back. I rolled over into my pillows. 

I listened to Phil take a piss, brush his teeth, and wash himself. I'm sure he was using a cloth to clean off the fluids and smell of sex. His naked body, slim but muscular and dusted with hair, crawled into bed next to me and spooned me. I enjoyed his warmth, his long, flaccid penis nestled into the crevice of my ass, and then I turned around to cuddle against him. I threw my leg over his. My bare pussy rested on his thigh. We kissed.

"How was the rest of the party?" I asked. "Did anything happen after I left."

"Oh, it was fine," he said. "I talked to Mark for a little while. He was telling me about his trip to Italy." 

"And what did you think of my new colleague who drove you home?" I teased.

"Who, Jennifer? Oh, she was pleasant enough."

"Don't play dumb. She's attractive, don't you think?

"I admit, she's easy on the eyes," he laughed. 

I placed my hand on his balls, just left it there. I was happy to have my husband home. It felt so comfortable cuddling up against him, against his handsome body which I loved, and we both dozed off for a bit. His light breath reassured me about the good things in this world. I gave him a tender kiss on his neck.

A little while later, I came out of my snooze. My pussy was still against his leg, my hand still on his balls. Now that I'd recovered from my previous orgasm, I was getting horny again and squeezed his thigh between mine. I moved my clitoris against it. My fingers began caressing his flaccid scrotum. The skin felt so silky. I loved it when his balls hung low and heavy like this, almost down to his anus. I pressed a gentle finger into his butt. I jiggled his loose eggs in my palm and held them. His cremaster muscle were causing them to gyrate to their own slow rhythm. I love his balls. Phil and I sometimes call them our sperm factory. I allowed my fingers to trace up the scrotum, then back down, stroking up and down the smooth skin. 

Finally, I encircled his limp shaft and tugged at it lovingly, patiently. It grew bigger and bigger in my hand. I coaxed my husband to a full erection. His mind and body were still sleepy, but it never took long for his penis to become ferociously hard. The thing had a life of its own. 

My Phil... he can a fuck a woman twice, fuck her and himself to mind-shattering orgasms, come home, and still get it up for me. He never lets me down. When he comes back to me after he's been with someone else, he may not get off again, but we both take great pleasure in Phil's after-sex sex. 

My lips kissed Phil on his neck. Then his chest, his nipples. From the surface of his flickering dreams, he moaned. In the darkness, I sank my body lower, ducked under the covers, and slurped on his dick. In the bathroom, he hadn't done a very thorough job cleaning off Jennifer's juices. I could still taste her on him, but this was something I found arousing. 

I couldn't see Phil's penis there in the darkness, but I explored its shape. My tongue tested the contours. My mouth measured the length. As I blew him, I touched my own pussy. First, I focused on rubbing my clit, but soon I used two inserted fingers to open up my vagina and prepare myself for what was about to come. My fingers became wet with my own juices. I wiped them on the sheet. 

I straddled Phil, held his cock in my hand, and mounted him. As I sank down, the world shifted. I was somewhere else. I was in a world void of thought, only pleasure. I adjusted to this big thing which I had allowed to invade my cunt. It made be feel full and stretched. My ass moved up and down with even motions, with no aggression. It always surprises me how big he is, how good he feels deep inside. Sometimes, I like our sleepy sex because I can go at my own pace. So I kept my hips moving and let the pleasure spiral upward.

Suddenly, I found myself thinking about Phil and Jennifer again. I thought of how much pleasure Phil must have experienced and was glad he had enjoyed himself. I can't deny him anything. And that poor girl must have been grateful for a good and proper fuck at long last. I once again pictured Phil behind her, jackhammering into her as she braced herself against the hood of the car and screamed. How fucking sexy that must have been for her. I'll bet she never forgets it. She'll think of it when she's nostalgic and wrinkled in a nursing home. And then him giving it to her again in the backseat. His cock sliding in and out of her sloppy wet cunt, his body hunched over hers in orgasm. God, I was getting myself so hot. I was now bouncing roughly up and down on Phil's penis. He still hadn't really woken up yet, even though he had his hands on my hips, letting them ride with my motions. 

I was reclaiming him. This was my husband, my man to fuck. All the girls might love his dick, but in the end it was mine. He was my man. He had married me. I felt so grateful, so in love, so turned on by him. I was using his fat dick as a dildo, practically raping him. 

And then I came. My ass vibrated up and down like some slutty dancer shaking booty in a hip hop video. After my earlier self-pleasure, I had doubted I'd come again, but here I was bouncing my ass and creaming all over his dick, balls, and thighs. Oh, how wonderful it felt! 

I lay on him. My breasts flattened against his pectoral muscles. My mouth was right by his ear, my breath panting as my pussy twitched with the last flashes of pleasure. I let my body loosen and relax. 

"You're so good to me," I whispered.