Exotic India with cunnilingus as illustrated in every relevant position from the Karma Sutra...at least that was what I planned...Remembering pick-up seats with their high perch of privacy and roomy slippery vinyl...every position imaginable I had planned, from missionary to cowgirl..(wish I still had my urban cowgirl hat)
I arrived at the park/rec center place a little early having snuck out of work..(shhhh don't tell only Derek probably noticed and he isn't talking..what a good boy he is) Brian was there earlier it seemed in his be-hemoth. I knew at a glance it was his as it was indeed a beater...he had scouted around apparently and picked a place towards the end of where the nearly empty tennis courts are..a little too humid for tennis except for a couple of older men and a hot blond beating the hell out of the backboard thing by herself. Maybe I should take it up...she had killer legs.
I slid into the spot next to him and sure enough there he was beaming expectantly down into my car. I quickly changed shoes realizing I had forgotten to already and click clicked around to the passenger side..he almost beat me to it hopping down and rushing around to open my door...I handed him my satchel and climbed up awkwardly.
He didn't have a bench seat! Damn! how is this going to work..I turned in the door to him and asked him about it...he explained something about a 'bronco interior'. I asked him if the seat at least reclines...he hurriedly reached between my legs adjusted, slid reclined and I was ready to go..kinda like how the dentist manipulates the chair around in a way that you know he has to be thinking how he could SO fuck you in this position or that...(or is that just me in the dentist chair thinking that?)
"Where are the stirrups?" I asked (Mixing my medico-professional metaphors...) my friends and I used to joke about the hand holds / "footrests" in pickup trucks..He was puzzled I explained he pointed to a grab bar...I experimentally hooked a heel into it giving him a wanton look at my smooth shaved deliciousness (well that's what I hoped he thought.)
"Well, get after it, big boy I tell him.." actually grabbing him by the hair gently but firmly shoving his face under my skirt. "We only have an hour and I warned you I have trouble cumming from just a good licking."
TOTAL lie, I come on a dime but he doesn't need to know that...I had to actually try to hold off a little and the holding off just made the wave hit a little harder. Tongue, lips, teeth (gently - LOVE THAT). He was pretty good actually...into it which is key......
I squirmed and came and stifled it and came again and got a little vocal...Oh yes like that more and various pleadings to a more western God than India-centric deities.
He adapted quickly and had me riding a wave, I was losing control of the way I had pictured this going and didn't care..it was really lovely with dappled shade from some trees, a breeze slipping through the open door to his open window, him standing bending over attentively devouring me, plonking of tennis balls punctuating the air....the thrill of being in public..I am sure I was soaking his seat.
I NEED some cock...I announced and rummaged through the satchel and came up with the vibe. I actually had role-played it in my head an analogy about using him as a sex toy, and things I could get him to say, but at that moment I did need a cock inside me and yet I wanted to continue to torment his erection...It slipped right in of course and I started a rhythm..."like that' I explained and guided his hand to the dildo...
So here is this healthy young male with a perfectly good cock straining to escape his trousers fucking me in a parking lot in the open in public with a rubber dildo...priceless.
I teased a bit..(when I could catch my breath) about 'considering' loosing his 'sex toy'..(I couldn't quite call it his dildo, but I wanted to....) I pointed out that the tires on his truck made the height wrong....
He said "wait a minute." (men are all problem-solvers)
He went to the back opened the hatchy part and reached in and came out with a huge block of wood made from other pieces of wood glued together it looked like...he dropped it with a loud boom at my feet and stepped up on it.
"You carry a step for fucking?" I exclaimed when in fact it did bring his crotch up to about the level of my already abused cunt.
He laughed..(I mentioned I like his laugh), "No its for the jack so it reaches the frame."
"Well aren't you prepared like a good little Boy Scout?"
I unzipped him and dropped his pants to his ankles in the parking lot. I thought about it and adjusted the rear-view mirror and the vanity mirror to give a panorama behind us a bit. I couldn't trust him to think about getting caught when he was thinking about getting some pussy.
I grabbed his rock hard cock and led him to my slit...just teasing the slit with it, masturbating using the head of his cock..."Oh yes, this will work well for this." he was already leaking a little pre-cum which I fingered into a stringy loop in the sunlight and brought to my lips...why is pre-cum sweet and cum salty?
This made me (erp) realize a condom was in order, and I reached in and pulled out the whole un-opened box.
"Do you have enough?" he teased.
"Well we aren't going to use more than two or three now, the rest are for my date after work." let him think about that a minute as I fumbled one out of the box then wrapper and then rolled it on him..been a while since I did that...(Marcus had put on his own) it was kinda fun in a nostalgic way..the way they hold really still and almost shake with anticipation of what they are about to get...
We have now arrived with the missionaries at our second port of call where we will instruct the natives on the proper use of the one True Position..although I was sort of sitting up and in an awkward pose...
The world-tour tease is to be continued...
Showing posts with label Cunnilingus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cunnilingus. Show all posts
Friday, August 13, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
A First-Class Fuck.
Starting in a first class hotel probably helped, I think. I thought about that before and once during, and it felt, kind of mercenary to have that thought. Like the girl that goes out with the orthodontist's son because he will pick her up in Daddy's black Porsche 928.
But it isn't that. I'm not putting out because he is validating my worth by spending money. I am putting out because I met him, flirted with him, got to know him, wondered how he'd be sexually, fantasized about him sexually, and finally asked if he wouldn't mind fucking me. So it's about the sex.
But clean (600 thread count-ish?) sheets, a nice view of a beautiful, room service, (pretending we had nothing to hide just the Mr. and Mrs. made it seem true..we WERE a couple at least for then), really good triple distilled Irish Whiskey (not my usual drink but he explained that quality is key in enjoying such spirits..when in Rome..)all conspired to give this affair an air of legitimacy.
I had spun a tale for hubby the be-careful-what-you-wish-for cuckold of me being a hooker and all the filthy degrading things the client "made me" do. In fairness I explained to him how hot I got at playing the whore, how wet his insistent violations of every orifice made me. And thinking of it that way did make me incredibly horny. The husk in my voice telling him this tale of debauchery was genuine.
The reality was not nearly as athletically kinky, but just a leg-quiveringly erotic in it's own way.
I was dressed in a plausible I'm-in-town-on-business suit, with my planned kinky underwear on beneath. I thought check-in would feel slutty. I was sure CHEATER would be written all over my expression, and his. He seemed practiced, and if my twinges of excited slutty guilt showed the very friendly, sharp girl at the counter registered nothing.
In the elevator on the way up, no bags but my small clutch, I teased, "You seemed pretty practiced at that."
"What handing over a corporate card, or the part where I asked for a room with a nice view?"
Punching him I said, "No the whole fuck a married woman in broad daylight in a fancy hotel practiced."
"I'm pretty sure you are not the first married woman to be fucked in this hotel, some even by their husband.. Why would you assume that she would have assumed that our rings don't signify fidelity to each other?"
Wow...a lot in that statement.
"Besides. I put Mr. and Mrs. Smith down on the register!"
"You DID NOT...by the way how do you get away with it as far as showing up on the card and so on?"
"Well I normally don't do this sort of thing here in town, but road trips are a thing of the past with my last promotion so there is a bit of risk this time. Since I am the one that approves expenses, I'll shift it to a guy that actually is in town tomorrow, I'll probably book him into this hotel to keep the billing simple..you should probably check out before he gets here though unless you have a thing for drug pushers in general.." (He works in sales for a pharmaceutical company. He makes that joke a lot. At first I wondered if that was a 'hey I can get you drugs' ploy but doesn't seem to be. Just what he does.
I'm starting to turn this into a novel complete with dialog, and didn't plan to get into the whole, then I said, then he put his hand, then he said...thing...
I was trying to capture the essence of the experience. I read I think in Jessica's Blog not exactly Haiku clearly prose...I don't know poetry styles well enough to describe it but she captured an experience (was it maybe a fantasy?) with a couple of words on each line the way you would in a Haiku. (It wasn't I counted the syllables......wow way off track here...)
For example I had the hooker me forced to her knees by a handful of hair before she got in the door. He led me by the hand to the bed, sat me there and then went and opened the drapes. I felt radiant and expectant with sunlight on my face.
His hand in my hair just adjusted the tilt of my head as he gave a long soulful, deep, wet kiss. That was followed my more kissing. Deep exploring getting to know you melding kisses. I hadn't made out like that since high school.
I couldn't picture how his first moves would be, how I would strip, or be undressed, how to pose to best accentuate my tits and minimize my belly.
None of that mattered, once the whole getting to know you through nonverbal oral communication started, mouths and tongues just went where they went and the brain fuzzily caught glimpses as I went along for the delicious ride.
His lips and tongue and gently grazing teeth found my nipple. I wasn't sure when or how I'd lost my cute snug button-up Liz Claiborne knit top, but I'm guessing it was a button at a time. His fingers? Mine? I don't know, but I remember being glad I had chosen the pretty bra that was folded down a bit under my ample right breast.
I blushed a bit when his roving hands found first the garter straps, stroked the tops of my stockings and then found my wet folds with no fabric as barrier. Going panty-less seemed kinky sexy when I got ready, and sort of silly when luxuriating like a grownup in a classy room.
He smiled and said, "What a sexy surprise!" which was perfect.
I mostly let him lead until as he was kissing down my belly with clear intentions, I thought about the sequence I had imagined and told him, "Wait.."
"Me first" I said and went after his belt. It was only then I realized that I looked like the victim of several bad hands in a game of strip poker and he had barely his shoes off. Puzzled I recalled my hands and his warm skin, realized I had reached under and into and somehow he'd lost the hold of his belt and the button on his pants...
I wriggled him out of his pants, and insisted on the socks. "You may NOT fuck me with your socks on!" Ever agreeable, he took them off in a mock strip tease and threw them at (as if out) the window. I laughed out loud as trite as that is these days.
I couldn't help notice that he wore the same brand (or at least the same stripe) shorts as Hubby and giggled realizing hubby had only the pair he was wearing along with the underwear I wasn't wearing that was in his suitcase...
Marcus (for that is Early Bird's name) asked what was funny. Despite having talked to Jim (my co-worker) about the whole panty thing, it seemed suddenly disloyal to set him up in that way. To encourage him to wear them, then giggle about it while cuckolding him. I mean I know that is how it's done and he might even find it arousing for all I know, but still it was a line, and I kept it to myself.
I lied a little and told Marcus I was thinking about texting hubby and telling him how my day was going. That wasn't a total lie. I had someone's blog where she did that sort of thing giving hubby updates from a date..(that particular cuck loved that. If I find the post I'll link it)
He said, "Well you have your hands kind of full you want to dictate and I'll type it in for you?"
I was groping his engorged cock with both hands through his jockeys. "No good. Can't dictate, my mouth is going to be busy." I grinned as I gently eased the waistband from being hung-up on the tip. It was a very nice cock as they go. Laying on his back it looks best I think. Standing it looks like a handle usually, (which is why men are so easily led by them) Heaven help then if the have to move about erect it looks awkward as hell.
Anyway I hear size descriptions and such in a lot of posts and I figure him for about the same size as hubby's. Hubby passes and sometimes surpasses the "dollar bill test" so maybe 6-7 inches? About "just right" for me. Much longer and I gotta watch positions. I remember this one skinny long distance runner I fucked a couple of times much to his apparent amazement. He actually hurt me once with my legs over his shoulders...I wondered at the time how much was too much and actually got out a folder I had in my book bag that had a ruler printed on the edge. Apparently 7 1/2 inches deep is where my cervix starts...well enough of the anatomy lesson...who brought that up?
He had thoughtfully shaved his balls..(Oh that sounds first class all graphic but how else do you describe it? Smooth pink testicles?) He was circumcised. It was kind of pretty. Kind of a nice mushroom shape to the little helmet. Soft point then flaring gently. Throbbing vein down the length, but that might have been my fault.
I took my time, not using any particular practiced or remembered technique. Just kissing and nuzzling and licking and engulfing and a little bobbing. He considerately warned me of what I already knew, that I was holding him on knife edge, suckling a little watch the smooth pink testicles tighten, ease off and back...I was really enjoying myself in its own right.
"You keep that up it's going to go off!"
"You promise?" with a real long especially lascivious slurp. "Just in case, is this re-loadable? I mean does your company stock those little blue pills?"
"As a matter of fact, I'm going to recommend the boys in R&D contact you about your lips, I think they might be the next thing, and our patent is getting close to that 'we gotta find a new drug mark!"
Flattery will get you an appreciative full-service finish, and I did, and he did. I thought about my 'new rule' and went in for a kiss. He was just as enthusiastic as he had been and actually said "Wow, thanks that was great!"
"Anytime." I said, and I think I mean that. We still had I figured more than a couple of hours before he had to be anywhere and hubby would be assuming I was at work still so I wasn't worried about "my turn." But he was.
He still had the uniquely male post-coital goofy look on his face as he tried to reposition me and him to return the favor...
"No rush, we have lots of time to get these re-filled," I said tickling those smooth pink....
He was actually still twitching and a little more trickled out onto his belly. I dipped fingertips in the small trail and brought them to my lips tenderly savoring. He visibly shuddered.
He seemingly distractedly was tracing fingers up and down my slit, and it took not much at all to get me parted and a couple of fingers in and exploring. He was more thorough than my last gyno exam and gently found ALL the right spots. It helps that I was soaked.
I wasn't sure exactly how or when as I drifted towards bliss but at some point his fingers were joined by a thumb on my clit and a probing tongue. He paid me back for the teasing and it was wonderful...right up to the edge and back and higher each time till I was just riding this crest..one long wave it felt like...part of it was technique, but looking down at his face and seeing not hubby was more of a guilty pleasure than I expected...at one point later he mentioned that I had his hair firmly in grip and was bucking up into his face. I din;t recall that..
"Good thing it wasn't a toupee!" he smiled.
When it came time for actual penetration, he had come up with a condom. I felt like an idiot..I had some in my purse, was just sure start to finish I would be safe, even wanted to try the whole roll it on with your mouth trick, but I hadn't even thought of one...I'm glad he did, and told him so. Oral is risky in and of itself but slightly less so than what was to come. I didn't like thinking about the harsh realities of risk in fucking a guy that admittedly fucks a lot of women.
We talked about it, and he said he does get tested regularly but I would be dumb to take him at his word. He says for him it is less risky he feels as he has less exposure. He says its risky but most of the women he has been with it is an anomaly for them, a fling they have with the traveling salesman only to bury their guilty secret in renewed marital bliss. He says he has a few he keeps in contact with and from time to time, well fucks.
Weirdly I felt a twinge of jealousy. About a man I was fucking behind my husbands back.
Speaking of, condom finally and a little awkwardly applied at some point he entered me, It was all part of the whole fluid coupling though so it isn't like fireworks went off at that moment and I thought make a note to describe later...it felt great and full filling and guilty and kinky and warm and human and well great.
I do remember at one point where he was really pounding into me with that great sound of bodies slapping together literally, and reaching a frenzy not so much, I think of that he was getting close or chasing an orgasm but I was getting vocal and he was picking up the pace and over and over again, like it was a race to the finish...I saw a single bead of sweat trickle down his nose and fall to my chest..It looked to me like one of those slow motion camera things where the water drop explodes or the glass breaks or something. And the whole time was like that my mind recording every detail at 1000 frames a second but only in little glimpses and snatches. I would get caught in a reverie and hold a frame while the room and events swirled by.
Midst all this I did send a couple of flirty texts to hubby which he later told me were very hot and extremely discomfiting in his seminar. I'll have to go back and see what I sent.
But it isn't that. I'm not putting out because he is validating my worth by spending money. I am putting out because I met him, flirted with him, got to know him, wondered how he'd be sexually, fantasized about him sexually, and finally asked if he wouldn't mind fucking me. So it's about the sex.
But clean (600 thread count-ish?) sheets, a nice view of a beautiful, room service, (pretending we had nothing to hide just the Mr. and Mrs. made it seem true..we WERE a couple at least for then), really good triple distilled Irish Whiskey (not my usual drink but he explained that quality is key in enjoying such spirits..when in Rome..)all conspired to give this affair an air of legitimacy.
I had spun a tale for hubby the be-careful-what-you-wish-for cuckold of me being a hooker and all the filthy degrading things the client "made me" do. In fairness I explained to him how hot I got at playing the whore, how wet his insistent violations of every orifice made me. And thinking of it that way did make me incredibly horny. The husk in my voice telling him this tale of debauchery was genuine.
The reality was not nearly as athletically kinky, but just a leg-quiveringly erotic in it's own way.
I was dressed in a plausible I'm-in-town-on-business suit, with my planned kinky underwear on beneath. I thought check-in would feel slutty. I was sure CHEATER would be written all over my expression, and his. He seemed practiced, and if my twinges of excited slutty guilt showed the very friendly, sharp girl at the counter registered nothing.
In the elevator on the way up, no bags but my small clutch, I teased, "You seemed pretty practiced at that."
"What handing over a corporate card, or the part where I asked for a room with a nice view?"
Punching him I said, "No the whole fuck a married woman in broad daylight in a fancy hotel practiced."
"I'm pretty sure you are not the first married woman to be fucked in this hotel, some even by their husband.. Why would you assume that she would have assumed that our rings don't signify fidelity to each other?"
Wow...a lot in that statement.
"Besides. I put Mr. and Mrs. Smith down on the register!"
"You DID NOT...by the way how do you get away with it as far as showing up on the card and so on?"
"Well I normally don't do this sort of thing here in town, but road trips are a thing of the past with my last promotion so there is a bit of risk this time. Since I am the one that approves expenses, I'll shift it to a guy that actually is in town tomorrow, I'll probably book him into this hotel to keep the billing simple..you should probably check out before he gets here though unless you have a thing for drug pushers in general.." (He works in sales for a pharmaceutical company. He makes that joke a lot. At first I wondered if that was a 'hey I can get you drugs' ploy but doesn't seem to be. Just what he does.
I'm starting to turn this into a novel complete with dialog, and didn't plan to get into the whole, then I said, then he put his hand, then he said...thing...
I was trying to capture the essence of the experience. I read I think in Jessica's Blog not exactly Haiku clearly prose...I don't know poetry styles well enough to describe it but she captured an experience (was it maybe a fantasy?) with a couple of words on each line the way you would in a Haiku. (It wasn't I counted the syllables......wow way off track here...)
For example I had the hooker me forced to her knees by a handful of hair before she got in the door. He led me by the hand to the bed, sat me there and then went and opened the drapes. I felt radiant and expectant with sunlight on my face.
His hand in my hair just adjusted the tilt of my head as he gave a long soulful, deep, wet kiss. That was followed my more kissing. Deep exploring getting to know you melding kisses. I hadn't made out like that since high school.
I couldn't picture how his first moves would be, how I would strip, or be undressed, how to pose to best accentuate my tits and minimize my belly.
None of that mattered, once the whole getting to know you through nonverbal oral communication started, mouths and tongues just went where they went and the brain fuzzily caught glimpses as I went along for the delicious ride.
His lips and tongue and gently grazing teeth found my nipple. I wasn't sure when or how I'd lost my cute snug button-up Liz Claiborne knit top, but I'm guessing it was a button at a time. His fingers? Mine? I don't know, but I remember being glad I had chosen the pretty bra that was folded down a bit under my ample right breast.
I blushed a bit when his roving hands found first the garter straps, stroked the tops of my stockings and then found my wet folds with no fabric as barrier. Going panty-less seemed kinky sexy when I got ready, and sort of silly when luxuriating like a grownup in a classy room.
He smiled and said, "What a sexy surprise!" which was perfect.
I mostly let him lead until as he was kissing down my belly with clear intentions, I thought about the sequence I had imagined and told him, "Wait.."
"Me first" I said and went after his belt. It was only then I realized that I looked like the victim of several bad hands in a game of strip poker and he had barely his shoes off. Puzzled I recalled my hands and his warm skin, realized I had reached under and into and somehow he'd lost the hold of his belt and the button on his pants...
I wriggled him out of his pants, and insisted on the socks. "You may NOT fuck me with your socks on!" Ever agreeable, he took them off in a mock strip tease and threw them at (as if out) the window. I laughed out loud as trite as that is these days.
I couldn't help notice that he wore the same brand (or at least the same stripe) shorts as Hubby and giggled realizing hubby had only the pair he was wearing along with the underwear I wasn't wearing that was in his suitcase...
Marcus (for that is Early Bird's name) asked what was funny. Despite having talked to Jim (my co-worker) about the whole panty thing, it seemed suddenly disloyal to set him up in that way. To encourage him to wear them, then giggle about it while cuckolding him. I mean I know that is how it's done and he might even find it arousing for all I know, but still it was a line, and I kept it to myself.
I lied a little and told Marcus I was thinking about texting hubby and telling him how my day was going. That wasn't a total lie. I had someone's blog where she did that sort of thing giving hubby updates from a date..(that particular cuck loved that. If I find the post I'll link it)
He said, "Well you have your hands kind of full you want to dictate and I'll type it in for you?"
I was groping his engorged cock with both hands through his jockeys. "No good. Can't dictate, my mouth is going to be busy." I grinned as I gently eased the waistband from being hung-up on the tip. It was a very nice cock as they go. Laying on his back it looks best I think. Standing it looks like a handle usually, (which is why men are so easily led by them) Heaven help then if the have to move about erect it looks awkward as hell.
Anyway I hear size descriptions and such in a lot of posts and I figure him for about the same size as hubby's. Hubby passes and sometimes surpasses the "dollar bill test" so maybe 6-7 inches? About "just right" for me. Much longer and I gotta watch positions. I remember this one skinny long distance runner I fucked a couple of times much to his apparent amazement. He actually hurt me once with my legs over his shoulders...I wondered at the time how much was too much and actually got out a folder I had in my book bag that had a ruler printed on the edge. Apparently 7 1/2 inches deep is where my cervix starts...well enough of the anatomy lesson...who brought that up?
He had thoughtfully shaved his balls..(Oh that sounds first class all graphic but how else do you describe it? Smooth pink testicles?) He was circumcised. It was kind of pretty. Kind of a nice mushroom shape to the little helmet. Soft point then flaring gently. Throbbing vein down the length, but that might have been my fault.
I took my time, not using any particular practiced or remembered technique. Just kissing and nuzzling and licking and engulfing and a little bobbing. He considerately warned me of what I already knew, that I was holding him on knife edge, suckling a little watch the smooth pink testicles tighten, ease off and back...I was really enjoying myself in its own right.
"You keep that up it's going to go off!"
"You promise?" with a real long especially lascivious slurp. "Just in case, is this re-loadable? I mean does your company stock those little blue pills?"
"As a matter of fact, I'm going to recommend the boys in R&D contact you about your lips, I think they might be the next thing, and our patent is getting close to that 'we gotta find a new drug mark!"
Flattery will get you an appreciative full-service finish, and I did, and he did. I thought about my 'new rule' and went in for a kiss. He was just as enthusiastic as he had been and actually said "Wow, thanks that was great!"
"Anytime." I said, and I think I mean that. We still had I figured more than a couple of hours before he had to be anywhere and hubby would be assuming I was at work still so I wasn't worried about "my turn." But he was.
He still had the uniquely male post-coital goofy look on his face as he tried to reposition me and him to return the favor...
"No rush, we have lots of time to get these re-filled," I said tickling those smooth pink....
He was actually still twitching and a little more trickled out onto his belly. I dipped fingertips in the small trail and brought them to my lips tenderly savoring. He visibly shuddered.
He seemingly distractedly was tracing fingers up and down my slit, and it took not much at all to get me parted and a couple of fingers in and exploring. He was more thorough than my last gyno exam and gently found ALL the right spots. It helps that I was soaked.
I wasn't sure exactly how or when as I drifted towards bliss but at some point his fingers were joined by a thumb on my clit and a probing tongue. He paid me back for the teasing and it was wonderful...right up to the edge and back and higher each time till I was just riding this crest..one long wave it felt like...part of it was technique, but looking down at his face and seeing not hubby was more of a guilty pleasure than I expected...at one point later he mentioned that I had his hair firmly in grip and was bucking up into his face. I din;t recall that..
"Good thing it wasn't a toupee!" he smiled.
When it came time for actual penetration, he had come up with a condom. I felt like an idiot..I had some in my purse, was just sure start to finish I would be safe, even wanted to try the whole roll it on with your mouth trick, but I hadn't even thought of one...I'm glad he did, and told him so. Oral is risky in and of itself but slightly less so than what was to come. I didn't like thinking about the harsh realities of risk in fucking a guy that admittedly fucks a lot of women.
We talked about it, and he said he does get tested regularly but I would be dumb to take him at his word. He says for him it is less risky he feels as he has less exposure. He says its risky but most of the women he has been with it is an anomaly for them, a fling they have with the traveling salesman only to bury their guilty secret in renewed marital bliss. He says he has a few he keeps in contact with and from time to time, well fucks.
Weirdly I felt a twinge of jealousy. About a man I was fucking behind my husbands back.
Speaking of, condom finally and a little awkwardly applied at some point he entered me, It was all part of the whole fluid coupling though so it isn't like fireworks went off at that moment and I thought make a note to describe later...it felt great and full filling and guilty and kinky and warm and human and well great.
I do remember at one point where he was really pounding into me with that great sound of bodies slapping together literally, and reaching a frenzy not so much, I think of that he was getting close or chasing an orgasm but I was getting vocal and he was picking up the pace and over and over again, like it was a race to the finish...I saw a single bead of sweat trickle down his nose and fall to my chest..It looked to me like one of those slow motion camera things where the water drop explodes or the glass breaks or something. And the whole time was like that my mind recording every detail at 1000 frames a second but only in little glimpses and snatches. I would get caught in a reverie and hold a frame while the room and events swirled by.
Midst all this I did send a couple of flirty texts to hubby which he later told me were very hot and extremely discomfiting in his seminar. I'll have to go back and see what I sent.
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