I love my wife. I really do. So please read this with a grain of salt.
My name is Gary. My beautiful wife Marsha is an archeologist and makes a lot of money. It allows me to do what I want. I don't want to be a free loader, so I do work as a waiter a couple nights a week at a really nice restaurant. But mostly I play golf and take care of the house. I do all the cooking and cleaning and lawn work, allowing her to work her very odd hours. She does a lot of public speaking (at $20,000 an appearance, by the way), and has to travel a lot. She works for a local university and local museum. We live in Chicago, so it is a cultural hotspot.
In addition, excavating crews often find things that need verifying, and other museums that lay claim to those finds will steal her away at a huge consulting fee to be on site when they excavate. These trips usually last a week or two, and she makes it up to me with kinky sex when she comes home. She is a health nut and in great shape, so I've never been tempted to look at other women when she was away, but we have a pretty active sex life when she is home, so to suddenly go cold turkey for a couple weeks is rough some times.
I have no family in the area, but she does. My in-laws are nice, but I often feel like I'm competing for Marsha's attention when they are around. Her parents are very nervous about her traveling to third world countries, and I often think she spends more time on the phone with them when she is away, than with me. She got her doctorate pretty young at 25, and is now only 29, so they still see her as their baby. They pressure her to start having kids, but she always tells them that it isn't time yet.
Amy, Marsha's younger sister by 4 years, is also high maintenance. She isn't married yet and hasn't had a solid boyfriend for over 3 years now. Much like her sister, she is very attractive, but I've always found her to be a bit bitchy. She was very picky growing up, and now she seems more desperate, which is worse because she tries to date losers who are only after one thing.
Her two younger brothers have each graduated from college, but they still live at home. Marsha and I talk a lot about how her parents need to kick them out of the house. Amy had finally gotten her own place a year or so ago, but the boys were still at home. Watching how that family operates makes me happy that I stole Marsha away, but I also have to bite my tongue whenever I am over there. Of course, they feel free to criticize how we run our life. "A stay at home husband is terrible." "You two should have three kids by now." "Spending that much time apart is bad for your marriage."
I do have to agree with that sentiment, however. While I was never really tempted to look at other women, I was often tempted to look for sex in other places.
* * *
"I'm sorry, honey, but this is a really big dig, and I am going to have to be here for another couple weeks. I'm really sorry. I promise to make it up to you when I get home. But right now . . . oh, hold on, my mother is on call waiting. I'll call you back. Love, ya. Bye."
I stared at the phone for a few seconds, trying to let what my wife just told me sink in. "Another couple weeks," could mean anything. She had already been away for almost three weeks, so now I was looking at about a month without her. The temptation to look for sex was too strong now.
But where do you go? I saw a special on MSNBC once about high priced call girls who screen their clients. But they were extremely expensive and not the right thing for a quickie. There are plenty of billboards in Chicago for call girl services and VIP lounges, but I didn't think they would be able to advertise as openly as they do if actual sex was taking place. I always guessed that it was just phone sex or a private strip show. That would just make me hornier.
Then I remembered all the links for adult dating services. The women were always posing naked in those ads, and it was obvious it was a dating service that specialized in hookups. I doubted the women in the adds that claim to be in the Chicago area are the actual women that I would find if I looked, but I thought it was worth a shot.
I went to a couple porn sites and hit refresh enough times for one of the familiar banner ads to pop up. I followed the links and got a free search of women in my area. Sure enough, they weren't the supper models the ad had promised, but they were pretty enough for what I needed.
With my credit card on my desk and the account creation screen in front of me I paused. What were my real intentions? Would this be a one time thing? Marsha would have other 2-3 week trips. Would I stay in contact with this girl I was going to find, or would I just keep my account open and find a different girl each time. I sat there for 30 minutes, and looking back on it, if Marsha had called back like she said she would, I probably would have scrapped the idea. But she didn't.
I had to sign up for a month, so I did. Most of the other user names I saw had their birth year included, so I made my name Mark80. I identified myself as a recent widower. My wedding ring never came off, and there would be a clear tan line there that would be obvious to anyone. I was lonely and I missed my dead wife. I am not looking for a serious relationship right now, but would like female companionship.
I figured that would catch the interest of a few women. I then looked at several of the profiles for women near by. They all had pictures of themselves, in lingerie or bikinis with their heads cropped off. I looked at a few of the guy pictures as well and saw similar fare. I decided I might as well join the group. I stripped down to my boxer briefs, spent a few moments fantasizing on the original porn site I was at to make my bulge look as big as possible, and then took a few headless shots.
With all my free time I work out a lot and I thought I looked pretty good. However, I noticed that in all the pictures I was still wearing my wedding ring so I took a few more, picked the best one, and posted it to my profile.
The site allowed you to give several of the girls 'a thumbs up' and leave them a note. You couldn't get an email address until they returned the note, much like Facebook. After I was all done with everything and turned off my computer, I took a long cold shower and went to bed.
* * *
The next day I had two responses already. One stated that she appreciated my appraisal of her figure and said I looked hot, but she was working on another relationship right now and didn't think now was a good time.
The other response was more positive. Her user name was Jill84. She said I looked hot and wouldn't mind getting together for dinner and more. She asked if I wanted to share more detailed pictures of each other, but I declined. I had seen too many horror stories of teens passing naked pics of each other via email and then having them posted all over. I would stick with the headless pictures for now and suggested she did the same.
She seemed to appreciate this, and suggest that we meet already that weekend. Now was my chance to back out, but the more I looked at her pic online, the more I wanted to meet her in person. She had a similar build to my wife with slightly wider hips and larger breasts, probably 36-28-36 with C cups. She had a few freckles, which I thought were cute, and no stretch marks that I could see.
The site recommended a way to handle the first date. Make a reservation in a hotel, and spend the first night there. That way if things go badly, no one has the other person's address. I made reservations at a nice restaurant in the lobby of downtown hotel and got a suite reserved. It was pricey, but I would pay in cash, so Marsha wouldn't see it. If she asked about the cash withdrawal, which she probably wouldn't, I would just tell her that I went to a casino a couple nights and lost.
The days to the weekend passed slowly, and Marsha only called me once during that time. We talked briefly, but she seemed concerned about how I was holding on. I let the excitement for the weekend show in my voice to help prove to her that I was doing okay, and that seemed to help. She hesitated at the end of the call, but didn't say any more and hung up.
I wondered how open my wife would be to letting me get laid on the side while she was gone. She told me she would pay me back when she got home, and while we had talked about threesomes and open marriages, she never seemed in favor of it, so I didn't push it. She might make an acceptation for me when she was gone for this long, but I wasn't going to ask now.
Friday night finally came. We were to meet each other in the lobby of the hotel, which doubled as the waiting area for the restaurant. We hadn't given head shots of each other yet, and we both agreed it would be more fun to try to pick each other out of a crowd. When I entered the lobby and saw how many people were there, I regretted not having us wear Jill84 and Mark80 name tags.
It was a nice restaurant and there were several beautiful women there who could have been her, but they all looked like they were with someone else. One woman sitting alone drew my attention, but she looked a little heavier than Jill's picture, and maybe a few years older. Also, she wasn't looking around like I would think Jill would be doing. I was about to go up to her when I heard a call from my left.
"Gary?" I turned to see Amy getting up from a chair and walking over to me. She wore an amazing formfitting red dress, gathered across her waist and stretching over her shoulder with a large key hole between her breasts. I saw no bra lines and almost whistled in appreciation. If only she was my date. I almost slapped myself at the thought, though. It was bad enough I was cheating on my wife, but to do so with her sister would be worse.
"What are you doing here?" she asked. I was also dressed nice with khakis and a button down silk shirt that was narrow enough to show off my muscled torso.
"I'm meeting a client here tonight for dinner. They flew in from New York today and they have a room upstairs. They should be down any minute."
"Man or woman?" she asked, looking me up and down.
"Terry Keller," I replied. "We've only exchanged emails. I don't know."
"But aren't you a waiter?" she asked.
"We do catering too," I thought quickly, "and I've been helping out. A firm from New York is going to have a conference here in Chicago next month and they have a bunch of meetings tomorrow. My boss knew Marsha was gone and I was free, so he suggested I take them out to diner." I paused, hoping the flimsy story would hold up. While she contemplated it, I turned it back on her. "What about you? What brings you to this fine restaurant?"
I saw her eyes roaming to the door as I spoke and she pulled them back to mine. "A date. My friends set me up again. I haven't met the guy before, so this should be interesting."
"So you don't know what he looks like?" I asked. She shook her head. "Could be me?" I grinned at her.
She laughed. "Not unless your name is Mark," she replied.
I froze. "My middle name is Markus," I said slowly. "And I think yours is Gillian."
I thought Amy was going to faint from the look of shock on her face. Her hand went up to her open mouth, and I grabbed her other arm to keep her steady. The shock was no harder for me to deal with, but I managed to keep my balance.
"Please don't tell Marsha!" we both said at once. We chuckled despite the situation at the shared realization that our secret would be safe. Neither of us wanted to admit doing this.
"I need to sit down," she finally said. I eased her into a chair wondering what else I could do. The "Bing" of the hotel elevator drew my eyes away and I saw the front desk.
"I made a reservation here tonight," I said slowly. "I think I might still be able to cancel it."
Amy couldn't speak, but nodded. I made my way over to the desk, ended up paying a slight cancelation fee, but was able to get rid of the reservation. I returned to find her with her head in her hands and sobbing. I knelt down before her. "Amy. It's okay. Everything's going to be okay. No one has to know. I promise I won't tell a soul."
"It's not that," she said between tears, sniffing loudly. "My life is a wreck and it doesn't matter what I do, I can't fix it."
"You're life isn't a wreck. You are a young, beautiful woman with your life ahead of you. Don't think this is an omen or anything. You will meet the right guy."
"That's easy for you to say," she replied, wiping tears from her eyes as she fished a tissue out of her purse. "But nothing has ever worked for me."
I felt for her then, more than I had in the past. Yes, I thought she had her bitchy moments, but what woman hadn't. I had been through a hellish series of girlfriends before I had met Marsha, so I knew what she was talking about.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
She looked up at me as if seeing me for the first time. We had never talked about anything. If I answered the phone at home, I rarely even got a "How's it going?" before they asked to speak to Marsha. They all saw me as an underachieving sports nut that happened to be married to their daughter, whose sole function was to keep the house from burning down while she was off on her trips.
"I don't know," she said after a few moments.
"Mark, Party of 2!" The host called from the entry to the dining room.
"It helps to talk about it," I said. "Plus this place has great sea food and their martini list is exceptional."
"You still want to have dinner?" She asked.
"Well, we need to eat, and I was obviously prepared to pay for dinner already, and I just saved a ton of money on a hotel reservation."
She laughed. "Okay. Martinis sound good." She sniffed up the rest of her sobs and put on a better face. I helped her up, and couldn't help admiring her form under the red dress. "Stop that," she scolded quietly.
"Stop what?"
"Don't look at me like that!"
"Why did you wear that dress?" I dared.
"Because," she started, but then paused. "Because . . ."
"Because you wanted to be looked at," I said. "I'm only giving you a compliment."
She smiled at me but didn't say anything more as we were greeted by the host and shown to our table. We sat down, and when asked if we wanted anything to drink, I ordered a chocolate martini for Amy and a beer for myself. She gave me a more genuine smile after that and I returned it.
"Allow me to explain myself," I started.
Amy shook her head. "You don't need to. My sister leaves you alone for weeks at a time. She has confided in me that she is scared you are going to start cheating on her, and that she would have a hard time blaming you if you did. If this is the first time you've ever done anything like this, it would come as a surprise to Marsha."
"It is the first time," I confirmed.
"Then you should talk to her about it," Amy said. "Tell her how hard it is for you to be away from her that long. My guess is that she will make a better effort to go on short trips or she will give you a freebie every once in a while."
It was sound council, and she was probably right. Our drinks came and with neither of us having opened our menus yet, I just ordered some appetizers. I suddenly wasn't that hungry and I guessed she wasn't either.
"Plus," Amy continued, "you aren't really cheating on her. Women view sex as a sign of love and devotion. Finding a woman on our site is only for companionship and sex. You aren't looking for 'love' somewhere else. Plus the site is completely anonymous, so you don't risk anything. Like I said, talk to Marsha about it. She may even suggest something like this."
I took a long drink from my Sam Adams and nodded in defeat.
"But I do need to explain myself," Amy continued, sipping at her drink as well.
"What for?"
"Because we are looking for different things," she said. "I'm looking for a relationship, and you probably think that is a terrible thing to do on a site like the one we met on. But I've tried all the other sites. They don't work either. When I enter my 'Key Personality Traits' they keep pairing me with guys that are losers. Does that make me a loser?"
I shook my head.
"I went on a few dates from that site and they were awful. The guys can't hold a decent conversation and they couldn't keep their eyes above my chest. They only wanted one thing, and when I didn't give it to them, they didn't call back."
"If you don't want men looking for sex, then why use our site?"
"Because that is the only way I am going to find guys like you."
I sat up a bit in my chair and gave her a strange look. "Explain that."
"The guy I am looking for has no problem attracting women. He doesn't need a dating site. You don't need a dating site. But if their woman cheats on them or dies or they break up, then they will be too emotionally invested in the old relationship to be looking to start a new one, but they will still need female companionship."
It made sense in a warped way. I loved Marsha too much to go to a prostitute or use a call girl. I wanted an every day woman who was lonely like me to fulfill a need. If I really was a widower, then I would be the kind of man that Amy was looking for. Someone who knew how to be in a steady relationship, someone who was not scared of commitment, and someone who wasn't looking for any of that right now. They just needed a hug.
"Have you done this before?" I dared to ask.
We were being honest so Amy nodded her head. "Once, or twice. Well, twice with the same guy. He had just broken up with his girlfriend of five years. He was crawling up the wall sexually, much like you must be, but he wasn't looking for something dirty. He needed a shoulder to cry on. That was me."
She took another sip as she decided whether or not to continue the story. She did. "We ate dinner, got a hotel room, and made some of the most passionate love I could imagine. He had so much to give to a woman, and no woman to give it too. I listened to his struggles, he listened to mine, and we made a connection. We met up the following weekend as well, for more of the same, but he called me up shortly after that saying that his girlfriend and him were trying to get back together. It was a brief but very enriching experience."
Our food came and we continued to talk about relationships. Amy really opened up to me, and my opinion of her was drastically changing. She wasn't a bitch as much as she was just angry with men and the world, and from what she told me, she had every right to be angry. But if you were nice to her, she opened up and was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside.
After her third martini, I could tell that she was going to need help getting home. She had taken her car to the hotel, and when I offered to drive her home, she refused at first. However, after rising from the table and trying to balance on her heels, she changed her mind.
I knew where her apartment was, and walked her all the way to her door. She opened it, stepped inside, paused, and then turned around. With her heels, she was almost my height as she looked into my eyes. "Thank you for a wonderful evening, Gary. It may not have ended the way you wanted -- or I wanted -- but I enjoyed it."
"You're welcome," I said. On instinct I leaned in to kiss her goodnight. On instinct she responded in kind. I had been only with Marsha for so long that it didn't cross my mind to aim for her cheek, and our lips met gently.
Sparks flowed down my body, as I guessed they did hers, because neither of us moved as we held the kiss. I moved closer to her, and she did likewise. Soon her hands were on my waist, not sure if they should push away, or curl around my back to draw me in.
Soon I needed air, and as I parted my lips, she took the sign and parted hers as well, I felt her tongue at my lips and I responded, grabbing her hard around the waist and kissing her passionately. She clutched at the back of my shirt and we stumbled awkwardly into her apartment, with the door slamming behind us.
We came to a stop against the back of her couch, but the rest of our bodies were in constant motion. Our necks oscillated back and forth as our mouths worked on different angles to get our tongues deeper and deeper. Her hands were quickly pulling my shirt out of my pants and were soon underneath the smooth fabric and massaging my back. My hands tried to work on her narrow dress, pulling it up so the bottom hem moved from her thighs to her waist.
My hands felt the hot flesh of her ass around the thong she wore and I squeezed hard as I lifted her into the air and set her down on the back of the couch. Her head was a bit higher than mine now, and we traded angles for our continual kiss.
Her legs wrapped around my waist and I lifted her slight frame off the couch and leaned her up against the wall. Her hips dropped slightly, and I could feel my quickly expanding khakis pressing hard between her legs. She moaned as my hard shaft tried to break through my zipper and her panties, and I let her ride up and down on it for a while.
"Oh Mark," she cried, obviously having played this fantasy out in her mind. Between us, her hands tried to undo my buttons, but it was hard work, and I pounded her into the wall as she made the attempt. Eventually she had my shirt open and she dropped her feet back to the floor.
Amy grabbed my open shirt, spun me around and then pushed me into the wall. Our lips finally had to part for this maneuver, and I didn't make a move, feeling that she wanted to drive for a while. She did. I was leaning hard against the wall as her fingers and mouth played across the contours of my shaved chest. She spun her tongue around each nipple, feeling the firm swell of my pectorals with her hand. Her fingernails dragged across my abs as her tongue filled my navel.
Her chin hit my belt buckle, and as she changed her posture to a kneeling position, her fingers worked the clasp while her mouth continued to suck on my stomach. My pants were soon undone and she pulled them and my underwear down in the same motion. My dick almost took her eye out, but she only giggled and moved straight to sucking.
With the same passion we had shared in our kissing, her tongue was all over me as her hands rubbed me up and down. She knew what she was doing, and the tension inside of me began to melt away. She took me deeper and deeper with each stroke, until I felt like I was in her throat. She never gagged once, and I thought that she could give Marsha a few pointers.
Thinking of my wife at a time like this was suicide, and the building orgasm took a minor detour. Amy felt me go slightly limp, and redoubled her efforts, driving the image of my wife out of my head until all I saw was her beautiful face taking in my full length. She began to slow a bit, taking me all the way out and all the way in on each stroke, which only built the pressure in my nuts more.
I dropped a hand to her shoulder, unable to talk at the moment, but she saw the look in my eyes. I didn't want it to be over this quickly, but she had other plans. "No, you will get your release. You need it more than me."
"But your dress," I croaked.
She considered this and agreed. She rose to her feet and turned around. "Help me with the zipper."
I did as I was told, pulling the small red zipper down from her neck to the top of her ass. She wasn't wearing a bra, as I had guessed, and I longed to see her large breasts standing free. She kept her back to me, though as she shimmied out of the dress, giving me a great view of her ass as she bent over to free the dress from her heels.
She knew what she was doing, and leaned back, pressing her ass into me so my cock was vertical between her cheeks. She remained bent over for a moment, rubbing me up and down, before she slowly stood up. My hands reached around her thin waist and slowly rose over her tight stomach until I had her breasts firmly in each hand. She purred pleasantly as I massaged them together and she continued to press her ass into my dick. She yelped a couple times as I tweaked her tits, and then turned around to give me a look.
I took control for a while, grabbing her bare shoulders and pulling her into me. We kissed fiercely for a few more minutes, my salty taste on her lips. Her breasts pressed hard against my chest as my hands roamed up and down her bare back, pausing to grab her ass at every opportunity.
Soon she broke off and slowly slid down again, dragging her erect nipples over my body and sending shivers to my toes. She paused when her impressive rack was at my dick, and slid my cock between them for several moments, bringing me back to full hardness again.
The view as she took me back in her mouth again was amazing. Her breasts bounced as she bobbed up and down on my cock, also giving me a view down her bare back to her ass and red heels. The pressure built as before, but I didn't fight it. If she wanted to give me release, I wasn't going to deprive her of that. My breath caught in my throat as it tends to do before an intense orgasm, and it gave her just enough warning to pull my hose out of her mouth before it sprayed her face.
The first massive shot hit her between the eyes, which she quickly closed. She pulled down on me and my second load hit her on the chin. I squeezed out two more minor bursts, above each breast and then leaked out as I watched it all drip down her. She massaged the last of it out of me before letting go and raising her fingers to her eyes, to wipe away the first shot.
My cum dripped slowly down her, caressing that beautiful body with slow, milky tendrils. It dripped from her chin, and she leaned back to spare the floor or my bunched up pants. The drips landed on her chest and either ran down to the tip of each breast, or found the valley between to head down to her navel.
She stood slowly, careful of where she might drip, and let me drink in one last look of her beautiful cum covered body before turning away. I was no less entranced by the wiggle of her ass as she moved toward her small kitchen to get a wash cloth. I tried to push away from the wall, but my knees were weak and spent a few precarious moments where I thought I would fall over.
Instead, I crouched down to undo my shoes and pull my pants and underwear all the way off. My shirt had still been hanging on my shoulders, but I left that on the pile of clothes too as I found the strength to walk over to her. I moved quietly on her hardwood floors, and came up behind her just as she was finishing up.
"Ahh!" She cried as I grabbed her ass. I turned her around before she could protest and locked lips with her again. The kissing kept getting better as our bodies adjusted to each other. Her lips were so soft and warm, it reminded me how long I had been without the sweet kiss of a woman, and as I would expect, she tasted very much like her sister.
Grabbing her ass again, I hoisted her in the air and moved over to one of the bar stools that stood by the kitchen's island. She sat on my lap, grinding her thong covered pussy into my semi-hard dick. Meanwhile, her beautiful breasts were finally at a level where my mouth could attack.
Amy's head lolled back, moaning in pleasure as my tongue raced circles around each mound and up to the tips. My teeth played gentle with her sensitive nipples and I could feel the shivers travel through her as I cradled her back. My scent was strong on her, despite her brief washing, and I finished the cleaning job as I sucked on each breast like they were two mammoth scoops of ice cream.
Her grinding below became more urgent, and I knew despite her claim that I was the one that needed release, she was not with out desire either. Standing carefully again, I hoisted her into the air and set her ass down on the island counter top. It wasn't a big space, but it was clear, and after a few more kisses on her mouth, I pushed her shoulders so she was lying back on her elbows.
When I sat down again, the covered lips between her legs were right before me. I pulled on the small red thong, and she helped me by lifting her hips. She had trimmed up nicely, with only a small strip above clean lips. "Looks great, Jill. Were you expecting to show it off tonight?"
Amy chuckled, but before she could respond vocally, my mouth dropped to her clit and I began sucking. What she might have said stuck in her throat as she drew a deep breath. I was relentless between her legs and she pinched my ears with her thighs in response. Her back arched off the counter so only her shoulders and hips were supporting her.
After a minute of intense sucking, I backed off for air and she finally let go of her breath. "Holy fuck! Give me more!"
I did, but not more of the same. I was gentler now, using a thumb from each hand to pull her lips wide so that her clit stood proud. I then started a slow consistent lick up and down across her nub. I gradually increased the rhythm, feeling a tensing in her legs with each stroke. After a couple of minutes I was going up and down twice a second and I could feel her body shaking with anticipation of each and every sensation.
Not wanting her to boil over just yet, I slowed it back down and removed my hands so I could insert one, then two, then three fingers of my right hand inside her, slowly stretching out her tight pussy as I did. I could already feel my dick getting firm again, and knew she was going to need some room to take me. With my right palm up under my chin, I used my thumb and pinkie to spread her lips again and resumed my slow rhythm on her clit.
She tried to absorb the treatment this time, not tensing her legs or arching her back, but instead falling deep into the sensation. My fingers moved back and forth inside her, finding her G-spot and then backing off again. Over and over again I thrust and licked, building the rhythm as slowly as I could, taking a full five minutes to get back up to high speed. And when I got there, I turned on cruise control and saw how much she could take.
She couldn't take much. "Ooohh my . . . ooooohhhhh my . . . ohhhh . . . ohhhh. . . ahhhh . . . YES!!!" She came in a rush, her hips rising off the counter and then her ass slapping down again, her body writhed, and I reached my other hand up to steady her so she wouldn't fall off. My right hand stayed deep inside her as my thumb teased her clit every time she came back down off her orgasm, sending her back into shock waves.
Seeing her flounder on the counter, her breasts bouncing back and forth made me fully hard again. Leaning over her still quivering form, I reached behind her shoulders and used my other hand to support her ass, and lifted her off the counter and over my shoulder.
As I carried her over to the couch, I slowly licked her sweet juices off my three right fingers. She didn't struggle at all as I moved across her small apartment to plop her down on the couch. She looked up at me with a contented look on her face and then glanced down at my stiff cock.
She didn't need to ask, and willingly spread her legs for me to get between them. The couch was long and wide, and gave us plenty of room. I slowly lowered myself on her, my dick striking gold on its first attempt. Her warm, wet hole accepted me easily and she purred nicely as I bottomed out.
Again I started slowly, but her reaction was immediate. She was still especially sensitive down there, and after only 30 seconds I could feel her coming close to another explosion. I quickened my pace, staring into her eyes as I watched them roll back in pleasure and her back arch again.
"Ohhh fuck yes!" she cried, bouncing around again, though not as intensely as before. I gave her a break, collapsing onto her bouncing breasts, and cuddling up to her. I stayed inside and watched her breathing slowly come back under control. She turned her head on the couch and smiled at me.
"Do you treat all your dates like this?" She asked, a slight breathlessness still in her voice.
"For starters," I smiled back.
"Starte-" she started, but I leaned in to kiss her again. She returned the kiss with full passion, her tongue and mine in a playful battle inside our mouths, simulating what was going on between our legs as our bodies lay facing each other on the couch.
My hands were all over her body, rubbing her back, fingering the top of her crack, and sneaking a hand between us to fondle her breasts. She rocked back and forth toward me, enjoying the sensation of my manhood sliding inside her sex. It was an exotic embrace, one that didn't have to end as far as I was concerned.
There wasn't enough stimulation below for either of us to get back to orgasm like this, but between our kisses, and the way our hands worked each other over, we maintained a high state of arousal.
Amy changed it up this time, rolling beneath me, so I was on top, and then pushing me off the couch. There was just enough room on the floor next to the coffee table for me to land. I came out of her, but she was quick to follow, and sat back down on my cock. "Now I control the thrusting," she said, slowly starting to bounce up and down.
It was a great view, watching her hourglass figure bouncing up and down, gravity doing amazing things to her breasts. She was squeezing her muscles between my legs, forcing my dick through a vice. I bit my lip a few times and she grinned back at me, quickening her gyrations, and throwing her shoulders around to increase the movement of her breasts.
"Now you are going to cum for me," she said.
Not if I had anything to do with it. My hands went up to her hips and fought against her movements, she frowned at me, but I lifted her up and began pounding her from below, raising my hips to hers with a satisfying slap. Each impact quivered her breasts like jello, while I was slamming her from underneath.
She lost control for a moment, and I raised my grip on her sides to pull her down on top of me. Her hands braced on either side of my head as my hips rotated up to continue pounding her from behind. Her breasts were now swaying inches from my face, jolting with each thrust from behind.
I could tell she wanted to sit back up, but couldn't with her current leverage and with her pussy being pounded from below. My hands left her side and clutched at her breasts. She kept trying to say something but now she was biting her lip. I could see the familiar rolling of her eyes as she neared yet another orgasm.
She wanted to fight it, but didn't have the strength and her arms soon lost the strength to hold her up. She collapsed onto my chest and my hands went to her hips to support her as I continued to thrust. The wave that coursed up and down her was almost as strong as the original orgasm back in the kitchen. Halfway through I pushed her back up into a sitting position and watched as she gyrated on my dick again, her own orgasm driving her deeper into pleasure.
Watching her like this, pleasure rolling up and down her tight body as her breasts swayed was too much for me and I unloaded inside her, my orgasm rushing from nowhere. Now I lost strength in my limbs and she collapsed back on top of me as we rode out our ecstasy in a suddenly sweaty embrace.
We lay on the floor like that for a long while, my exhausted dick shrinking out of her eventually. We bathed in each other's warmth for about fifteen minutes before she finally stirred. She struggled to sit back up on my lap, my dick no longer inside her. She sat there for several minutes, rubbing her fingers over my muscular chest and allowing me to enjoy the view of her naked body once more.
Eventually she got up and I watched her perfect ass move her into the kitchen and out of view. I pulled myself off the rug and back onto the couch to gaze on her naked form as she put on some coffee. Two minutes later we were both sitting naked at the island sipping from steaming mugs.
"What do we do now?" she asked finally.
"We never do this again?" I offered.
She gave me a sour look. Neither of us wanted to think this would be the last time, but how could we keep doing this behind her sister's back. "I have a talk with my wife," I said.
Amy nodded. "So will I?"
"About what?" I asked.
"About her leaving you alone and how she needs to allow you to fulfill your needs. She will give you approval. I will also tell her that she doesn't want to know who it is."
"So we can keep fucking like this without telling her, yet she will endorse it?" It was hard to keep the incredulity out of my voice.
"If not, then we never do this again," she replied. She lifted her mug and looked at me solemnly to let me know that was really our only choice.
* * *
So that is what we did. I waited a couple days and sure enough, Marsha called me. She asked how I was doing, and if I was crawling up the wall with sexual anxiety. She told me she loved me and wanted me to be happy and was willing to let me look around if I wanted to. I told her I loved her too and wouldn't do anything till she came home and we could talk about it.
She did and we did. A month later she had to be gone for 3 weeks again, and we had the understanding that during the second week I would be having sex with someone else. I called Amy.
By this time Amy had found another boyfriend with whom she thought it would work out. When she came over to my house to talk, I wondered if sex was even going to be on the agenda. She talked about her new relationship and how this might be the guy. We talked for over two hours before Amy excused herself to use the bathroom. As I nursed a drink in the kitchen, I wondered if I was going to have to look for someone else. Five minutes later she came back downstairs dressed in some of my wife's lingerie and we had sex in every room of the main floor.
We hooked up twice more before her wedding, 9 months later. It felt weird that she wanted to have sex with me even though her new relationship was going so well. We had made a connection that night on our first date, and it just didn't feel right to end our long talks about life without experiencing the most pleasurable thing in life. It wasn't a loveless sex, but it was a different kind of love. It was a brother/sister love, but expressed more deeply than I would have ever thought proper before.
At Amy's wedding, she looked amazing, and her husband was in for a real treat. Amy did find a few moments during the reception to have a private talk with me about how we would not be hooking up anymore, but she would appreciate it if we could still have our talks when problems came up in their marriage. Later, my wife was really confused when her sister called and asked for me.
Things went on as normal for the next few months, with Marsha only taking a few speaking engagements. Then, someone was drilling for oil in Central America and unearthed a bunch of ancient pottery. My wife was called down and estimated it would be at least 4 weeks.
"As usual," she said as I kissed her good bye, "if you need sex while I'm gone, you are on your own." I stared blankly at her for a while. I had forgotten I was going to need to find someone else.
Her car was barely out of the driveway before I was back online, recreating the account that I had previously canceled.
The End
