Living Single!

I picked up my phone and sat on the edge of my bed as I opened the text. It was from “J.T.”, short for Jill T. Jill was another of the women I’d heard from after my Craigslist posting. She’d said she’d had it in her draft mailbox for a while before finally sending it – and asked if I was still looking. Of course I’d said yes, and we’d connected shortly thereafter.

We were sensational – she was married with three kids, and was looking for some excitement that she wasn’t finding at home. We found it – she’s a marathon runner, and has the body you’d expect – lean, fit, and very energetic. She’s a pixie at 5’4″ with blonde hair and a sexy figure that you might not associate with a runner.

Because she worked, had three kids, and was married, finding the time to get together was tough, and we’d only been able to get together a few times, and usually not for as long as I think either of us would have liked. But when we were, it was spectacular – as you might expect, being very energetic was a big positive during sex.

“Open later?” was all the text said. It was also her way of asking if I’d like to get together.

My fingers danced over the screen. “Yes! When?”

“3?”

“C U then!” Wow – that was like an hour and a half away. Apparently I wasn’t going to go on the bike ride I’d planned, and would be getting my aerobic exercise another way. I pulled on some shorts and a t-shirt, and, after finishing cleaning, downed a quart of gatorade and then some water, accompanied by lunch. I’d need my energy!

Right at 3, I heard her car pull up and a knock on the door. She was smiling broadly, and was wearing a pair of running shorts and a workout top – and looked amazing. I smiled back at her, and started to ask how she was, but she just dropped to her knees, pulled my shorts down, and started sucking on my cock, which took about two seconds to come fully erect. OK, so it was more than two seconds – but probably not by much! Jill was terrific at oral, and she dove in with a vengeance, making my knees buckle just a little bit. As she worked her magic mouth around on me, she worked my shorts the rest of the way off, leaving me naked from the waist down.

After luxuriating in the sensations of her sucking me for a few minutes, I took a fistful of golden blonde hair and pulled her off of my cock. As she stood, my other hand reached for her shorts and pushed them down, down, down off of her, seeing her step out of them and flick them to one side with her foot. I let my hand move under her sports top and lifted it off her at the same time she lifted my shirt off, leaving both of us naked, my cock glistening from her saliva.

I turned her around and bent her over, putting my cock between her legs and sliding back and forth, feeling her heat and my cock brushing her clit. I tweaked my position behind her and then just rammed my cock deep into her, making her grunt as my cock invaded her tight little pussy. She couldn’t quite take all of me inside her at first, but that never stopped her from trying. I felt her push her ass back towards me as I slammed back in to her, with her arms on the wall by the door.

After a few more thrusts into that beautiful, lean body, we moved to the couch, where I kept her bent over and rammed my cock into her again and again, drawing a sexy moan from her each time I bottomed out. We got into a nice rhythm, and then she started leading us to the bedroom – difficult when you’re still coupled. We made it, though we had to uncouple to go up the stairs, and we made it to my room.

Once we were there, I pulled out of her and turned her around to face me, leaning down and kissing her hard as I pushed her down onto the bed, feeling her legs open, that beautiful taut body underneath me. I didn’t wait, plunging my cock back into her, drawing a little shriek as my cock pounded into her amazingly tight little cunt. Our eyes locked as I stayed buried inside her, and kept them locked as we fucked hard. You’d expect a runner to have strong core muscles, and Jill did – which meant she could do incredible things to my cock when it was inside her. Her hands reached my ass and grabbed; I could feel her fingernails scratching me as she tried to pull me in deeper and deeper.

We broke eye contact, and I took the chance to savor her tits in my mouth. She wasn’t big – that runner thing – but they were perfectly shaped and very firm – and super sensitive. I loved chomping down on them, lashing them with my tongue, seeing and feeling her nipples pop painfully erect, and feeling her reaction as I sucked on them.

Another thought came to me, and I reached back and took one of her hands and put it up on the headboard, then reaching back for the other. I held her hands there with one hand, and reached for a drawer in my nightstand with the other. Almost – I couldn’t quite make it, and had to shuffle us over a little bit before being able to reach in to the drawer and root around, finally finding what I wanted – a pair of fur lined wrist shackles.

As she heard them jingle, she turned and caught a glimpse of them as I moved them over her head and put one of her wrists through the slats of the headboard and then into the manacle, followed by her other wrist, which went in the other manacle. She was now effectively tied to the bed, and I went back to the drawer and found the other piece – a blindfold. As I put it on her, she involuntarily tried to resist, but couldn’t with her hands shackled. I looked down at her and smiled to myself – she was a beautiful sight, this gorgeous nude blonde runner shackled to my bed, my cock still impaling her.

While I was putting her wrists in the manacles, I flashed back to a beautiful woman I’d actually gone out for a while. We’d been fucking, and I reached for handcuffs and had asked her as I putting them on if it was OK. I’ll never forget what she said: “Don’t ask. Just do.”

Every time after that, with every woman I’d done that with, I’d followed her advice – and it worked. Every single time the woman would say something like she had always wanted to try it, but was afraid to ask.

I teased her with my tongue, lips, and hands, all while still keeping up a steady pounding of her with my cock. After a few minutes, she started to tip over the edge, and as her orgasm claimed her so did mine, and I erupted deep inside her, pumping her tiny tight cunt full of my seed. After what seemed like a long time, I stopped painting the inside of her womb with my white cum and rather collapsed on her, both of us shaking from the intensity. I managed to free her wrists, and she let her arms just flop above her head, seemingly too spent to move – just as I was.

Eventually, I slid off of her to and on to my side, my cock sliding out of her with an audible pop, both of us still breathing heavily. I reached with one arm and pulled her to me, spooning as our breathing returned to normal. It was easy to tell when she started to recover – I felt her pushing her ass back on my deflated cock, and to my surprise I felt myself recovering. I moved one of my hands to cup her breast, and started to play with her nipple, making her push back harder, which in turn got me harder. She moved slightly and lifted her leg just enough to let my hardening cock flop between her legs, and I could feel her scrunch her way down to put my shaft on her slit. It was amazing – I could feel the heat radiating from her pussy, and as she moved her slit was coating my cock with our combined juices.

Jill then lifted her leg and used it to push me on to my back as her slit continued to tease my cock. As we moved, I felt her adjust her position and then plunge my cock into her drenched pussy, drawing a loud moan from her as she bottomed herself out on my cock. She started to slowly piston herself up and down, moaning each time she bottomed herself out on me. She moved slowly at first, but picked up speed so that in short order she was riding my cock up and down like a jackhammer. She didn’t last long, as a huge orgasm hit her and she screamed out as her entire body shook.

Her orgasm sustained itself for a surprisingly long time, her pussy convulsing on my cock, her moaning loudly the whole time. Eventually, her body returned to her, and she held herself upright, my cock still buried inside her, relishing every little twitch. Jill finally slid off my cock and laid herself down next to me.

“Omigod . . . ” She was almost panting, but was recovering quickly. “That was amazing.” Her eyes snapped back to focus. “What time is it?”

I glanced at the clock. “5:15.” Wow – it felt like it had been 20 minutes, not over two hours.

“Damn. I have to go.” She made no move to actually get up, but one of the nice things about her was that if she said something, she meant it. Just as I was about to say something, she stirred herself and sat up on the bed, which had a big and obvious wet spot on it. She saw it and laughed.

“Did we do that?” she asked, somewhat coyly.

“Yep! Strong work, that,” I replied. “Good thing I have another set of sheets.”

Jill snickered a little. “Yeah, and a washing machine helps too. Whoa!” That last as she stood up and realized she was still a little shaky.

I swung my legs off the bed and sat next to her. “How soon do you have to be home?” Somewhat surprisingly, I hadn’t cum when she orgasmed, so I was still ready to go. Seeing her nude next to me, hair matted, with drops of white cum leaking out of her pussy didn’t help to calm me down, either.

“5:30. Not gonna make that, but should head out.” And this time, she stood without wobbling and we made our way back downstairs, picking up our clothes and reluctantly getting dressed.

“Damn. I want you again!” It was true – I wanted to fuck her again. And again.

She flashed a megawatt smile. “Me too. Are you up for getting together more than we have?”

That required no thought whatsoever. “Yes. Any chance we get, let’s take.” That was exactly how I felt – and the memory of Angie and Tracie flashing through my head didn’t change it.

“Good. Every couple of weeks? My schedule should open up a little bit now.” Was there a note of hope in her voice? Maybe . . .

“You bet. Text me anytime.”

“OK.” She kissed me hard on the mouth and was out the door like the blonde pixie she was.

I waved at her car, and then turned back to the house. I was parched – that might have been why I didn’t cum in her the second time. I drank another quart of gatorade – the blue kind this time – and followed it with water. As I did, I realized I was hungry. And not just hungry – but famished. I poked around the house and ate a protein bar, but I didn’t have anything that appealed for dinner. What did appeal was beef. I thought for a moment, and the answer came to me. Of course. Sunday night was prime rib night at my favorite steak place downtown – Sullivan’s.

As much fun as it would be to go without showering, letting people pick up the scent of sex on me, discretion won out. The shower, again, felt great – the hot water helped loosen my muscles, and was wonderfully relaxing, which wasn’t a bad thing considering how hyped up I’d been for most of the last 24 hours. I ordered an Uber driver, and then faced my closet, deciding what to wear. Sullivan’s wasn’t a jacket and tie required place, but it was one of the more upscale restaurants in town. I settled on a pair of gray slacks, my newish black sport jacket, and a multi-color checked shirt that a former girlfriend – a real fashionista – had picked for me. I’d looked at her a bit askance when she picked it, but I had to admit she was exactly correct – the stuff she helped me pick out invariably drew favorable comments from people.

My Uber driver arrived, and he got me there pretty quickly – very little traffic on a Sunday night. On the way, I replied to a couple of texts from Angie, Tracie, Jill, and a couple of other women I got together with. As I did, I realized that every woman I’d been with over the last few weeks was married. My brain went farther and farther back in time, to when I placed my Craigslist ad, and then started counting.

I couldn’t remember exactly how many replies to the ad I’d gotten, but it was a lot – proper spelling and grammar evidently went a long way. Many of the women who replied had also said that including a picture helped them feel a lot more secure about emailing someone from the web. I’d kept a running tally of how many women I’d met off that ad, and if my memory was working I’d met 17 different women over the course of about a month and a half. Most were the classic “meet for a drink,” while a couple had been over lunch or coffee.

Out of that 17, I’d had sex with 14 – a remarkable success rate. Many of them had been the same day or night we’d met – your classic hookup. A couple had been the second time we’d met – probably just to see if I was a complete nutjob or not. Jill was in that category – we’d met for a drink and then had waited a week before getting together for another drink and a day of incendiary sex. Finally, there were a couple of women where we’d gotten together the third time we’d met; Angie was one of them.

Out of the 14, I was more than a bit surprised when I counted and realized that 11 of them were married. Wow and interesting at the same time – if there’s a hell, that might just get me there. My listing had been pretty neutral when it came to who I was looking for – mainly, someone attractive who was also looking for some adult fun. So it was fascinating that so many – most – of the women who responded were married. That had to mean something, but right about then the driver pulled up to Sullivan’s. I tipped him generously – he’d been smart enough to see I wasn’t really in the mood to talk – and walked in.

It was a madhouse. Sunday nights were usually pretty low-key, and I’d go every once in a while to take advantage of their prime rib Sunday night special. I’d never seen it so crowded, and the maître d’ said it was going to be a while before I’d get a table. I asked if she had any idea why it was so busy and got a polite smile and shrug – she knew she had seen me before, but I was not a regular.

Sullivan’s is your classic upper-end steak restaurant. I liked the vibe and feel – there was a bar area where you could eat, and they often had live jazz bands playing, though not tonight. The bar looked like a good option, and I was able to get a spot without too much effort. The bartender also gave me the look that she knew she had seen me before, but not enough to remember what I drank. I ordered, looked at the food menu and ordered dinner, and then turned to watch people.

It was a fun place, and popular with the downtown business and legal crowd – there were a number of successful boutique law firms nearby, and the big national firms had their offices nearby as well. It was also very close to the light rail lines that served downtown, and that also meant it was close to the baseball stadium – thankfully, the Rockies were away this weekend. The crowd was usually very good looking, and if it wasn’t known as a pickup place, well, that was fine with me.

My salad arrived, and as I plowed through it I realized how hungry I was. The bartender offered another round, which sounded good. Shortly thereafter my dinner arrived, and I forgot the crowd as I attacked my plate. About three-quarters of the way through it, I felt someone claim the bar stool to my right and drop a purse and some sort of wrap on the stool next to hers. I just caught a glimpse of beautiful shiny black hair and what looked like a classic ‘little black dress’ before I turned back to dinner, glancing up at the TV above me and to the left that was showing a baseball game, with the crawler along the bottom reporting scores and sports news from earlier in the day.

Another motion next to me caught my attention; it was simply the woman sitting next to me looking at her watch. I finished eating and pushed the plate away, feeling sated. It had been a spectacular 24 hours – first, Angie and Tracie, followed by a couple of hours and rounds with Jill. One more drink and I’d order up another Uber driver to get me home. Well, that was the plan.

A glint of gold and more motion next to me drew my attention again – the woman was looking at her watch again, and she was getting visibly annoyed. Not overly so, but enough that you’d notice if you were paying attention. She looked extremely attractive – her face looked a bit thin, but her hair was glorious and her figure, at first blush, looked quite promising. Ah! Of course. She was meeting someone and they were running behind. Another look at her watch, which was gold and very expensive looking, but also tasteful and restrained. She sighed and then dug into her clutch purse and extracted her phone, unlocking it with a passcode and not a fingerprint. Interesting.

There were a number of messages on it, and her fingers danced around to let her read them. “Dammit,” I heard her say, under her breath, not meaning for anyone to overhear.

“Not coming?” I asked.

She glanced at me, seeming to notice me for the first time. “What?”

“He’s not coming?”

“Who’s not coming?” She was either confused or stringing me along – and the latter seemed more likely. She had a definite presence to her, a commanding aura – and confusion did not seem likely.

“Whoever you were to meet.”

“No.” She looked like she was going to get up and head out, but paused. “What made you think I was meeting someone?”

I couldn’t help it – I laughed just a little bit. “Do you want a list?”

Rather than laugh back, she looked faintly annoyed. “Sure,” she said, in a very clipped voice – the kind of voice someone uses when they’re about to chop you off.

“One, you’re dressed to the nines on a Sunday night at the bar at Sullivan’s. Two, you’ve been looking at your watch with a frequency that borders on the manic. Three, you found the one pair of open bar stools and claimed both. Four,”

She cut me off. “What are you, a lawyer?” Her tone made me think of the East Coast – a hint of challenge in it, but a note of curiosity also.

“Are you? I confess to having gone to law school,” I said, which was entirely true. And I still worked on some appellate cases. “But those three facts together make the most likely explanation that you were here to meet someone who is not coming.”

For an instant it looked like I’d pushed a hot button and she was thinking about throwing my water at me, but only an instant, replaced by a slight smile that had a hint of haughty in it. “No, but I’ve been to law school as well. Yes, I was supposed to meet someone, but he texted last minute to say he couldn’t make it.”

“Had you been out with him before?”

“We met for lunch and thought we’d do drinks next. Why am I telling you this?” She seemed almost annoyed with herself for having talked to me at all.

“Because I asked, and you’re too polite or too ruthless to not answer.”

“Where did ruthless come from?” Her eyes had narrowed.

“The first question you asked me was why I thought you were meeting someone, and the second was if I was a lawyer. Those are the questions of someone who can be ruthless.”

She gave me a once-over that was supposed to be obvious. “Pity you haven’t made more of yourself.” The words might have been nasty, but she was now just playing.

“Yep, you might be right.” Sometimes the best answer is to agree. “Rather an interesting conclusion for someone you know nothing about,” I replied, trolling her just a little bit.

She took the bait. “Easy. Junior partner in law firm, late 30s or early 40s, probably divorced, thinks he’s in shape because he ‘works out’ on weekends, thinks he’s smart because he reads the NY Times and the Atlantic, and finds himself alone on a Sunday night wearing clothes that give off that ‘I don’t give a fuck vibe but I really do care what people think.” She gave a thin smile.

“Interesting. Mostly wrong, but interesting.” I smiled.

“Oh, haven’t made partner yet?” Again, playing.

“Nope, schedule wouldn’t fit with all the travel I have to do.”

She actually cocked her head. “So what do you do? Consult?” Good guess.

“Close.” Two could play. “Thank you for telling me what you do. McKinsey or PWC?”

She looked startled for a split second, and then, “Why do think I’m a consultant?”

“Oh, come now – if we have questions must they be stupid ones?”

She looked like she was ready to escalate, and then caught herself. “Touché.”

“What would you like to drink?”

“Are you offering to buy me a drink?”

“Yes. What would you like? Nothing is not an option. Or would you prefer somewhere else?”

She paused. “Where would you suggest?”

That was easy. “Cruise Room.” A high-end bar a block away. Maybe two.

“Are you sure you can afford to buy a drink there?” No snark there – just a touch of humor. Or at least an attempt.

“Well, I might have to dive into my couch for quarters and nickels, but I think I can manage.”

She actually cracked a faint smile. “OK. Let’s go.”

We walked over after I paid my check. It was two blocks away, not one – but it was a beautiful evening. We didn’t talk much on the walk over – for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what her endgame was. The only consolation was that she didn’t seem to be able to classify me, either.

The Cruise Room was somewhat crowded – I was surprised for a Sunday night, but then realized the hotel upstairs (The Oxford) was a popular spot for business travelers. It was one of Denver’s older hotels, and in this case “older” was a compliment – it had a lot of charm to go along with its thoroughly modern amenities. The Cruise Room was the kind of bar that you could imagine Jay Gatsby having a drink in – leather booths and an older art deco-ish look.

We lucked out and were able to claim a pair of barstools just as a couple left. The bartender came over, and she ordered a dirty martini, specifying a very high-end vodka. I took the bait and ordered an 18 year old Macallan single malt.

“Well, I hope this is worth it – I was supposed to meet a 6’3″ blonde Norse god. How tall are you?”

I laughed. “Not that tall. 6’1″. Been out before?” She was actually talking, which constituted progress.

“Met for lunch and thought we’d do drinks next.” She gave a half-shrug, as if to say no big deal.

“Ah.” That didn’t quite explain the little black dress or the obvious care she’d taken in getting ready. I couldn’t really empathize – I’d never been left hanging like that.

“Excuse me a moment – ladies room.” She headed in the direction of the restrooms, leaving her clutch purse on the bar.

She was back fairly quickly, and I took my turn, leaving my sport jacket on the back of the bar stool. She didn’t say a thing, just nodding.

I made a stop before the men’s room, and then made my way back. Surprisingly, it didn’t look as if any of the other men in the bar had moved any closer.

Her drink was three-quarters finished when I got back, and I sipped mine to even it out.

“Want to get out of here?” I had nothing to lose – why not?

She looked at me intently. “Yes. I was about to ask the same thing. Where?”

“Upstairs?”

“Any room?” She caught on right away.

“Yep. Come on.” I’d arranged for a room before going to the men’s room.

I felt her breast brush my arm as we moved to the elevator – it was wonderfully firm – though that could have just been a firm bra. Felt nice – and had to be intentional, since until then we hadn’t touched at all. We rode up in the elevator with another very attractive woman – business type – who seemed to know exactly what we were going to do. The sexual tension was thick, and the other woman gave a wistful sounding sigh as we reached the floor. As it turned out, we were on the same floor, and headed the same direction, the woman peeling off a couple of doors before we found the room.

The key card slipped in and the lock clicked, allowing us in. She slipped in ahead of me, and I gave the door a nudge with my foot to close it as I stepped in to the room. I didn’t have a chance to get any further, because she launched herself at me and mashed her lips to mine. I felt her lips moving on mine and responded, feeling her tongue explore my lips, finding my tongue, wrestling with it, her hands going under my sportjacket, pushing it off, her tossing it in the closet on the luggage stand.

I’d been getting more and more excited as we made our way up the elevator, and the other woman must have picked that up, so my cock was as erect as it could be as I felt her hands on my chest, undoing buttons as her mouth continued to devour me. My turn – I reached behind her and crushed her to me, finding the zipper to that little black dress and smoothly undoing it, lifting, lifting her dress up, over her head, tossing it to land on top of my jacket, seeing she had almost nothing on underneath it – a tiny and super-sexy black thong, and a pair of black thigh-high stockings.

Her hands finished unbuttoning my shirt and pushed it off me, letting it fall to the floor, and her hand moved to my belt, undoing it, releasing the button, rubbing my cock through my slacks with her hand, then unzipping me, forcefully pushing my slacks down. I stepped out of them and nudged them away, and felt her squeezing my cock through my underwear, once, twice, three times, and then she was pushing them down, freeing my swollen cock at the same time that I was pushing her forward, toward the bed, one hand reaching for that tiny thong, pushing it down, down, and off her, finally reaching the bed.

Her scent was powerful, and our mouths were still locked together, her powerful tongue playing with mine. The back of her legs hit the bed, and I pushed her onto it, feeling her legs open, climbing on top of her, positioning my raging cock on her clit, letting it slip to her opening, feeling her heat and wetness. Her mouth broke away from mine, and our eyes locked together. We held that position for a second that seemed to last forever, and then I punched my cock all the way into her, drawing a loud grunt as I did.

I kept my cock in place, deep inside her, for a few seconds and then withdrew almost all the way before punching it back into her, again making her grunt. I couldn’t quite get my whole cock into her – she was, if I haven’t said before, only about 5’4″, so it made sense that her pussy wasn’t as deep as Angie or Tracie’s. The next time I in I grazed her cervix, making her squirm hard and moan loudly as I did.

She felt absolutely amazing – she was tight, hot, and absolutely drenched – it was easy sliding in and out of her. As my cock moved in and out of her, I moved my lips and tongue to her breasts, tonguing and then sucking her beautiful nipples into my mouth, making her squirm even harder. They were, quite simply, perfectly shaped and had the perfect blend of firmness and softness. They were also extremely sensitive – I could feel her winding up as I sucked on them as my cock continued to claim her pussy.

We started speeding up, and I kept up my tonguing and sucking of her tits, occasionally breaking off to reclaim her mouth with mine. I moved one of her legs so that it was up on my shoulder – that let me get in even deeper, and she started an almost continuous moan as my cock kept sliding along her cervix and my mouth continued to suck on those beautiful tits.

The next time I grazed her cervix I also happened to bite down gently on one of her nipples – and that did it. I felt her start to shake from the inside out, and watched as her face contorted as an orgasm exploded over her. Her pussy started to spasm on my cock, squeezing it hard one moment and then relaxing, before squeezing it even harder. She was now moaning loudly, mixed in with an occasional shriek, and I suddenly felt her back arch hard as her orgasm consumed her.

Her pussy also clamped down even harder on my cock as she came, and I could feel her relax slightly and then clamp down, relax slightly and clamp down. She was also squeezing me in that “just right” way; if I hadn’t been working so hard on not cumming myself just on getting her to cum I’d have completely lost it. But after the weekend I’d had, between Angie, Tracie, and Jill, even with the endurance I’d been blessed with (and worked on), I might not have as much cum as I usually would – so was consciously holding back.

Her orgasm was amazing to see – and feel. She shook for minutes, and finally reached for me to pull me down next to her. As I moved, my cock slipped out of her with a noisy ‘thwop,’ and she pulled my hand to cover one of those perfect tits. It took her a few minutes to fully recover, and I took the chance to savor the view of her body. While I’d had the chance to sleep with a lot of women, many of them quite stunning, this one was . . . perfect. And I don’t say that lightly – she had the perfect blend of curves, tone, and softness. At least to me.

Anyway, we snuggled for a few minutes, her head on my chest, that beautiful black hair spilling over me. As she recovered, we chatted a little bit – very cautiously on her part. That was the one discordant note – we still hadn’t talked a whole lot, but she’d been willing to go off to a hotel room with a man she’d met less than an hour before. I didn’t even know her name – and I thought of Erica Jong’s infamous “zipless fuck.”

“So. What do you really do?” She was genuinely curious.

I was always a bit uncomfortable with this question, because so few people could really understand what it was like.

My usual answer, then. “I do some appellate consulting and also some work with the military.” Both were true, but it understated, rather dramatically, the latter.

“State? Federal? Who with? What with the military?”

All were reasonable questions, and obvious to someone who’d been to law school. “Both. I’m independent, so whenever someone needs someone with a constitutional law background I get a call. Everyone from the state AG to a couple of the big downtown firms.”

I could feel her processing that, and her next question was perfectly logical. “And the military?”

“Suffice it to say I help with finding people of interest.” There wasn’t much more I could say.

“Hmmmmm. If I ask anything else, are you going to say you could tell me, but you’d have to kill me?” She’s propped herself up now, so we could actually look at each other.

“That might be a bit melodramatic, but yeah, I can’t say much about that. It does give me the occasional trip, though.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Anywhere fun?”

I chuckled. “Probably not anywhere people would describe as fun.”

As we were talking, she ran a finger up and down my arm, and then down my side, to my leg, to the limit of her reach, and then back up. Not in a sensual, sexy, way, just exploring – meant for her information, not to titillate me.

“Is that why you’re in such good shape?”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you . . . ”

“Ha. Are you still in the military?”

“Sort of. We have an agreement – every once in a while I’ll travel for them, and they don’t try to pull me to full-time active duty.”

She thought on that a moment. “Hmmmm. I can respect that – we do a lot of work with defense contractors.” She let that hang.

“Ah. So it is McKinsey.” I knew they did a lot of work with defense companies in the area, so it was a pretty safe bet.

“Mmmmm-hmmmmm.” She started her fingers back down my body, but this time her intention was sensual. Her lips and tongue started to follow, kissing and licking their way down my body, her fingers now on my quickly hardening cock, and her tongue languidly moving towards it. Might seem like a strange thing to say, but her tongue felt unusually good as she kissed her way to me – sorry I can’t describe it better, but somehow it felt terrific as she traversed my chest and stomach.

She also didn’t waste any time, confidently licking the tip of my cock as she reached it, letting her tongue glide down the underside of my shaft, her fingers dancing on me, her tongue and lips working their way back up to my tip, playing, moving back down. It was an amazing feeling, magnified by the sight of her shiny black hair moving down my body, and she surprised me when she took my whole length into her mouth at once with no warning. Oh my god. That was an incredible feeling – her warm, wet mouth enveloping my cock, her tongue languidly rolling around on me, my tip in her throat – and her not gagging at all.

Confident, like I said. She kept it up, moving from my whole cock in her mouth to her tonguing my balls and gently taking them in her mouth while her fingers and hands kept up a steady drumbeat on my cock. If I didn’t have good self-control I’d have exploded deep in her throat, but that was not where I wanted my cum to end up.

With that thought, I waited for her mouth to come off of me, and then pulled her up to me, rolling her to her back as I did, sliding my legs between hers, feeling hers open for me, that perfect body underneath me, my mouth latching on to one of those perfect tits for a moment before moving to claim her mouth with mine, kissing her hard, feeling her kiss back just as hard, effortlessly sliding my cock deep into her cunt, already drenched with anticipation, feeling her moan into my mouth as I entered her, her hands on my ass, fingernails digging in to pull me in as deeply as she could take me – which was now almost all the way.

I slid my cock in and out of her, savoring every second, feeling her respond strongly, lights from outside seeping in through the white muslin curtains and illuminating us with soft yellow city lights as we fucked. I moved my legs so that I now had one leg between hers and one her legs between mine, allowing me to slide in just a little more deeply and to feel her cervix brushing against my tip and then shaft, feeling an orgasm starting to build in me as pressure built up in my balls, aching to be released. This time it would be.

As my cock slid in and out of her, I moved her leg so that she was now sort of on her side, but not quite, again in a sort of scissor position which let me penetrate her as deeply as is possible. Her eyes actually popped open as I slid into her even deeper than I had before, again feeling the pressure of her cervix on my tip and then shaft as I grunted and shoved the last little bit of my cock into her, drawing a grunt from her. I held there for a moment, savoring every second, and slowly slid out, only to slide right back in, again drawing a grunt, softer this time, as she took my full length. Again . . . and again . . . and again. It was heavenly.

We didn’t keep it up for very long – I was not going to last much longer no matter what I did. I reached down and tweaked one of her nipples, her shining black hair splayed against the white of the hotel sheets, and felt her pulse on my cock with a tiny bit more force. That sent me over the edge. I slammed into her again, feeling cum boiling out of my balls, racing down my shaft, my tip mushrooming as it brushed her cervix again, racing into her hot, wet womb, painting it with an explosion of white, feeling her instantly react, her cunt closing down on me even harder, her nails in my ass pulling me closer, deeper . . .

Spurting into her, ropes of hot, white, sticky cum, millions of sperm turned loose with one mission, her mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy, her body quaking violently, just as mine was, a loud, continuous “uuhhhhh” from me as my body kept firing cum into this beautiful woman and her body kept milking me for more. Finally spent, I held on to her tightly, feeling her hands holding me deep in her, her pussy still just spasming on my cock, which kept twitching back, which kept her going. We were like that for a LONG time, and I finally felt her hands relax and fall to her sides.

As we both slowly, and I mean slowly, came back, my cock slowly slipped out of her, a rush of white fluids following before she closed her legs and seemed to squeeze to hold them in. I lay down – OK, more like fell down – next to her, and she reached for a hand to cup her breast again, her nipple as hard as I’d ever felt one. I felt more than heard her say “Mmmmmmm . . . ” and returned it, moving my hand to her chin and holding it so I could kiss her again, feeling her respond again before moving my hand back to her breast.

We lay like that for a while – who the hell knows how long at a time like that? – before she murmured “God did I need that . . . ”

“I know what you mean . . .” was all I could manage.

“Do you have a pumpkin hour?”

It took me a minute to figure out what she meant. “No. You?”

“Work at 6:30; call at 7.”

“Should we call for an Uber?” I had no idea where she lived, or, for that matter, where her office was. Hell, I didn’t even know her name. Or even what time it was. That last was easy – I saw the clock on the nightstand, which read 12:27.

“No, just set an alarm for 5. I have clothes in the office.”

“Do this a lot?” I grinned.

She actually laughed back. “I wish. First time for everything. No, had to stay overnight before and got in the habit of keeping clothes there.”

“Logical.” I set a pair of alarms for 5 minutes apart.

We dozed off with her head on my chest and her arm wrapped around me, that soft, shining black hair spilling over my chest. It felt great – I was a little surprised at how good it felt, considering I’d spent Saturday night with Angie and Tracie, with Tracie’s golden blonde hair draped over my chest for the little bit of time we’d actually slept.

I think we both would have been surprised if we’d slept the whole time – and we didn’t. Hardly at all, in fact. We dozed off for a while, and then I awoke to her mounting me, letting me penetrate her all the way as she bounced up and down, those perfect breasts moving up and down as she rode me, my fingers working her nipples, slowly squeezing harder and harder as she got closer and closer to orgasm, her hair flying around as she went faster and faster, finally letting out a cry as she came hard, taking me with her, and I again felt cum erupt deep in her womb, my seed blasting the door to her delicate tubes, more sperm mindlessly seeking an egg on its own journey.

She collapsed on me, her breasts on my chest, nipples so erect they looked painful, still impaled on my cock, slowly making tiny motions that kept my cock rock hard. She eventually rolled off me, leaving a trail of sticky fluid as she did, and we wound up in the classic spoon position, soon dozing off again after we’d both visited the bathroom and downed a bunch of water.

The next time, I woke up first and felt her breast in my hand – we were still spooned together, and I had an aching erection, my cock in her crack. I slid down a little, and felt my tip nestle between her ass, and started to slowly move back and forth, feeling how wet she still was, sliding along her slit, eventually finding her clit, playing with that with my tip, then feeling her entrance, hot and wet, and sliding into her effortlessly, again bottoming out in her, hearing her moan approval, rolling her to her stomach, impaling her over and over, claiming her cunt, slamming my cock into her as hard as I could, trembling and knowing I was about to cum yet again, feeling her take me, her ass pushing against me, squeezing me, her back lit only by the soft city lights through the window, my control disappearing as semen again raced down my cock to pulse into her glorious cunt, sticky, hot ropes of white again leaping out of me to splash into her womb, my fingers leaving scratches on her shoulders and back as I came.

I couldn’t speak after that one, and the next thing I remember was the first alarm going off at 4:55. Unbelievably, her eyes snapped wide open before closing again, a small smile on her lips. She snuggled into me closer, and sighed in contentment. She didn’t move until the next alarm at 5:00.

“Damn.” She sounded genuinely disappointed. “Do they have room service yet?”

I reached for the hotel information book and flipped through it. “Yes.”

She picked up the phone and ordered for both of us, seemingly back to the all-business persona she’d started the night as. As she swung her legs over the bed, a trickle of fluid leaked out, running down her leg. She looked down and actually grinned – she was not the grinning type – and asked, “Are you TRYING to get me pregnant?”

“That wasn’t on my calendar, no . . . but it’s the best offer I’ve had in a while.”

She gave a brief laugh. “Yeah, that’s not on mine either.” There was a knock at the door – room service. She got up, grabbed a robe, went to her clutch, and brought breakfast in, letting her robe drop once the door closed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful woman – her self-assuredness was an amazing turn-on. We didn’t have a chance to act on it – we ate and she had to run out, pulling on her little black dress and thigh high stockings, but leaving me with her tiny black thong.

As she was pulling her dress on, she asked what my calendar was like; her point clear.

“Mine is probably like yours, but with a touch more flexibility. The next time I know I’m free is this Saturday night; after that, it’s probably a week from Wednesday. Does either one work?”

She smiled. “Saturday might work. If not, Sunday after next?”

“Yep, that would work. Same place? Say 7?”

A nod. “Yes.” She leaned over and kissed me. Hard. “OK, off to work.”

As she reached the door, she opened it up and then turned back to me. “And thank you. I had a great time.” Before I could say anything, she’d flashed an amazing smile and was gone, the door clicking solidly shut after her.

The idea of pulling the sheets back up over myself and sleeping for a while was an appealing one. But I knew it’d be better for me to get home and to get to work. As I started collecting my clothes, I saw an expensive-looking business card on the table closest to the door. Of course it was hers, but on the back she had written her cell number and this: “Saturday. 7?”

Well, that’d be an easy one to answer. I got dressed, tucked her tiny black thong into a pocket in my sport jacket, did a last check of the room, and headed to the lobby, stopping to turn in the card key. The doorman was waiting with a cab, and I was quickly home – most of the traffic was headed into downtown, not out of it.

While on the way, I took a few minutes to replay what had turned out to be an unbelievable weekend. It had definitely been one to remember – to be honest, I’d never had a weekend like it before. And it had ended on an even higher note than it started, which would have seemed impossible after the night with Angie and Tracie. Four women in one weekend without visiting a swing club. Wow.

Once home, I headed straight to my shower and let hot water run all over me, starting to relax the muscles that had started to tighten up. I didn’t bother to shave – it was very unlikely I’d be kissing anyone. I started my usual coffee, but drained two of my largest glasses of water first – I could feel the early twinges of insufficient hydration. Although we’d had a classic big room service breakfast at the hotel, I was still feeling hungry and made myself another big breakfast.

Thus fortified, I made my way to my office, and tapped Terri’s number into my phone. All I sent as a message was this: “Saturday. 7.”

She didn’t respond for a while, and I dug in to some of the work I had coming due. I was so ensconced in drafting an appellate brief I almost missed the ‘ting’ of my phone as a text came in. It was from her, and it simply said, “Good.” As I read her text, I also saw the time – almost 1:30. No wonder I was feeling so hungry again! The kitchen beckoned, and as I put lunch together another message announced itself on my phone with a ‘ting.’

This one just said, “Wednesday?” I was surprised to feel my heart lift just a little until I saw it wasn’t from Terri. It was, in fact, from Lauren, another of the married women I’d met off my ad. Until last night, I’d probably have named her as the best overall looking woman I’d met off that ad – which was really saying something.

Of course I was going to say yes – Lauren was not only strikingly good looking, she was amazing in bed – and fun just to be around. Until last weekend, she’d have been the one I’d have pursued if she weren’t married; now, she’d have competition from Tracie, even if both would likely lose to Terri.

“Yes!” was what I sent back, thinking that I’d better make sure I was completely recovered – Lauren was an athletic and energetic sex partner.

“6:00? Tavern?” Interesting. The Tavern was closer to her house – she was one of the few married women to have had me over, as her husband traveled a lot for work, and her in-laws usually took their kids for a night or two so she could work late.

“See you then!” I typed back. If past experience was anything to go by, we’d both be completely worked over by Thursday morning, and I made a mental note to not set anything up for Thursday. And another note to try to stay in tonight and tomorrow night.

And I actually managed to do both. I texted with a lot of people, but being a Monday night made it easy to reference work and to vaguely reference the weekend. I had to laugh at the position I was in – I had to actively think about whom to sleep with when, and make sure to leave time in between to recover. Talk about living a dream!

I had a productive Tuesday and Wednesday, and got to the Tavern a little before 6, taking an out of the way spot at the bar while watching for Lauren. She walked in a bit after 6, and scanned the bar, looking for me. I stood and waved, and she smiled brightly and headed over.

As she made her way through the bar, my memory flashed back to when she had first emailed me. She’d said she was probably a typical horny and frustrated wife – her husband’s libido had been slowly diminishing over the years, so gradually that it had taken her a while to notice. And when she did, and when he didn’t express any interest in addressing it, saying like so many others that their sex life was “fine,” she decided she’d take things into her own hands.

I’d listened empathetically to her very matter of fact rendition of events, including her efforts to start and maintain an affair, which had gone OK until the man started to distance himself more and more, at which point she’d had a few one night stands, which she said were usually terrific. So when she saw my ad, a couple of days after I’d posted it, she wrote right away, commenting (as others had) at how refreshing it was to see one with correct grammar and spelling, and that included a picture that was clearly in a local spot.

We’d met for a drink on the pretense of having a mutual friend, which could have been true, and after chatting for about an hour had moved to my house and had a night of sex that instantly made it into my top five ever – it was that spectacular. As I said, she was an athletic and imaginative partner, and eager to both make up the quantity of sex she had missed out on, and the quality and variety. Between kids, work, and not wanting to raise her husband’s suspicions, she had another of those challenging schedules that took some creative planning on her end to arrange time to meet. And we were so good together that I had even broken plans with another woman to be able to get together with her.

She was on the tall side at 5’9″, and had an athletic build – curves in the right places, with none of the starving runner look that “athletic” can imply. Truth to tell, she was like a taller and curvier version of Jill the runner. As something of a breast man, I really appreciated hers – perfectly proportioned and just the right level of firmness. And big enough to completely enjoy without making her look top heavy (I’d much rather a woman be a little top heavy than the alternative!). She was the CFO of a good sized local health care company, had two kids, was active in the community, etc.

She made her way over to me, and we hugged briefly, me being sensitive to being close enough to her house and neighborhood that her running into someone she knew was a real possibility. I mentioned earlier that she’d actually had me over to her house a few times, when her husband was traveling for work and either her parents or her in-laws would take the kids overnight. That had been a new one – all the other married women I’d been with had come over to my place. And it had been nothing short of awesome – sometimes she fucked so hard I felt like she was trying to give her husband a middle finger of sorts.

Anyway, we hugged briefly, and her hand gave my ass a comfortable squeeze.

“Hi! Glad you could make it!” she said, smiling brightly.

“Wouldn’t miss a chance to be with you!” I replied, smiling back. I genuinely liked her, and if she were single I’d have been angling to actually go out with her more . . . regularly.

“Awwww, you’re so sweet! I even believe it,” she added, knowing I’d never said no when she’d been able to make the time. I think that it was similarly insanely good physically for both of us, and that we had a similar understanding of the circumstances we were living in.

“Did you not see every guy here snap around to follow you through the bar?” They did, too.

Part of her wanted to believe it, and part of her knew it was true, but she said, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to get into my pants. Oh, wait – you already have.” She gave a little smirk as she said it, knowing that she was just as eager to get into my pants as I was to get back into hers.

“Anyway, how the heck are you? It’s been too damn long – and so when Trevor (her husband) said he’d be out of town this week I jumped on the phone to my folks to take the kids.”

“Oh, pretty good – lots of work to do, biking, etc. Nice that my work doesn’t have the kind of deadlines yours has. You look fantastic – how about you?”

“Better now – it’s pure hell being as horny as I am, and knowing you’re like 10 minutes away, and not being able to do much about it. Trevor seems to think 20 minutes of sex every couple of weeks is enough. And I’m like, fuck, dude, I’m just getting going!”

I laughed at that – it was true.

She went on, “I thought about telling him I was going to take a lover, but I doubt he’d take that well.” She rolled her eyes. “So I’m going to tell him I need a night to myself each week.” She fixed me with her bottomless brown eyes. “I’d like that to be with you – does that work for you?”

Wow, I hadn’t expected anything like that. And, duh, of course it worked for me.

“Are you kidding? Of course that works for me – I’d love it.”

She kept our eyes locked together. “Good. And no, I’m not asking you to give up anything else you’re doing. I’d just like to get together more regularly.”

“I would too,” I replied. “You’re completely spectacular. Are you worried about Trevor finding out? You’ve always seemed to have a ‘I don’t really give a fuck’ attitude about that, if you don’t mind my saying.”

“No, if he finds out, he finds out. Not like I haven’t talked to him directly about it, so if he’s surprised it’s on him. And I talked to a few people – even if he finds out, what can he do? File for divorce? Let him – I’ve thought about it, for god’s sake, and he has too. We’ve even talked about it. Sorry – TMI?”

I shook my head. “Not at all. Been there – that’s part of the reason my son’s mom and I divorced. A pretty big part, actually. I can empathize.”

She nodded. “I don’t want to rub his nose in it, but I’m damned if I’m going to live without something so . . . basic. Whatever. Well, I’ll tell him about needing a night a week and go from there. Is there a night that works better for you?”

“Wednesday is good – son is with his mom every Wednesday and Thursday; every other weekend.” I should add a caveat: “And I know you understand, but there may be times when I can’t because of work.”

She actually laughed. “Oh, I know – it’s not like it’s in concrete. And there might be times where I can’t either. Or your kid could get sick or – something. Life happens. And if it ever gets weird, just say so.”

“Well, you too.”

It was right then that someone walked up and said “Lauren! How are you? What are you up to?”

It was a couple about our age, and the woman gave me a sideways once-over, clearly wondering who the fuck I was.

Lauren took it in stride. “Julie! Ben! Good to see you! This is Bob – friend of mine from back east. Bob, this Julie and Ben – neighbors from down the street.”

I stood and extended my hand to Ben. “Nice to meet you, Ben,” as we did a quick handshake, then turning to Julie. “And nice to meet you, Julie,” again with a brief handshake.

We chatted for a moment, and then the pager they had buzzed, indicating their table was ready.

“Pleasure to meet you, too,” Julie said, as Ben excused himself and headed over to the host station. “Lunch sometime, Lauren?”

Lauren smiled. “You bet. Friday?”

Julie thought for a second and nodded. “Yeah, that works – I’ll text and we can figure out where.”

Lauren nodded. “Sounds good. Nice to see you! Kids at your folks?”

It was Julie’s turn to nod. “Yep, overnight at G&Gs! I just hope we can take advantage.”

Lauren laughed. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Julie chuckled, waved, and headed over to join Ben.

I laughed. “Well, I was a little surprised you suggested the Tavern, and that’s exactly why. Are you OK?”

Lauren nodded. “Oh, no worry. I’m closer to Julie than Trevor is to Ben – I don’t know if I’ve ever seen them say more than ‘hi’ to each other. Guy thing?”

“Maybe. How’d I do?”

“Perfect. Julie will pump me for details on Friday – where are you from, how do we know each other, etc., but I’ll just ask how she and Ben are doing.” She gave a short laugh. “They’re pretty similar to me and Trev. I always wonder if Julie isn’t doing something on her own.”

As we talked, we ordered food and another drink. “So should we have a story?” I asked.

“Oh, maybe something. But I’m not going to lose sleep over it. Anyway, anything interesting life-wise?”

“Not really. May have to fly back to DC for some meetings on a project I’m doing, but may not. Hopefully not – they’re usually a waste of time, even if I can bill them for them.” I saw the time on my phone. “Want to get out of here?”

Lauren chuckled. “I was about to ask the same thing. Split check?”

“Sure – it’ll look more convincing for Ben and Julie. I think you might get a good grilling by Julie on Friday, by the way. She gave me a pretty good once-over and I don’t think she bought the ‘friend from back east’ bit for an instant.”

“Eh, whatever. If she gets too curious can I just give her your number and tell her to ask you for your ‘special massage’ or something like that?”

I laughed. “Sure. And what then?”

Lauren chuckled. “Give her a ‘special massage,’ duh. I bet she’d be begging you to fuck her after about 15 minutes.”

“Yeah, I think I’d rather just stick with you. I’d be afraid I’d hurt her.”

“Well, if you don’t have any plans on Friday, don’t be surprised if she doesn’t text and ask if you have an opening Friday.”

“You’re serious. And how would that make you feel?”

Another laugh. “Well, obviously I’d wish it were me. But part of me thinks it’d be really sexy to know you fucked my neighbor’s brains out.” Her eyes were locked on mine, and I could see the idea did turn her on.

I was more than a little surprised – after all, it had only been, what, a half hour earlier that we’d been setting up Wednesday night as a dedicated-to-Lauren night. And she seemed serious.

“Well, hell, I’ll bet you it’d never happen.”

“OK, you’re on. What’s the bet? Oh – I know. If I win, you get us a room at the Brown Palace for a Wednesday. If not, I’ll get it.”

That seemed like an impossible to lose bet. “OK, you’re on,” I said, laughing.

She just smiled. We paid the check, waved at Julie and Ben, me taking a more appraising look at Julie, and headed off to our cars. Lauren obviously knew where I lived, and turned as if she was headed to a local food store. So I got home first, opened the front door, and Lauren pulled up a minute later.

I had a fairly nice townhouse. I say ‘fairly’ because it was not one of the new huge ones being built nearby, but it had a 2 car garage, 2 bedrooms and a study, 3 baths, and a good sized living area. It was one of the early new builds in the neighborhood, and while it was easy to get to it was also tucked away a little bit.

She walked up the to the door laughing as she looked at her phone, just handing it to me so I could read the message. It was from Julie. “OK, who was that REALLY?!?”

“You were right – she didn’t buy the friend from back east at all. Hope your Friday is open! And I wish mine were. You’ll have to tell me all about it.”

We walked in and kissed hard as the door closed.

“God, did I need that,” Lauren said, as we broke apart. “Now, where were we?”

I just took her hand and led her upstairs to the bedroom. The room had floor to ceiling windows in the corner, and I had both insulated blackout blinds and thin linen-like curtains over them. I’d closed the linen ones – they basically filtered out a little bit of light and gave the light that came in a wonderfully warm tone, but didn’t give much privacy – you could see through them, if anyone were standing in the common area behind the building.

As we reached the bedroom and I wrapped my arms around from behind, she asked a question I really didn’t expect. “So would you fuck Julie?” she murmured, as my hands closed on her breasts, drawing a familiar little shiver from her.

“Do you want me to?” I asked her, as I lifted her blouse up and over her head, going back to cup those gorgeous tits, still restrained by her thin bra. I undid her bra strap, feeling her grind her ass into my fully erect cock, drawing a soft moan from her, and lifted her bra off, dropping it on the floor, now able to feel her nipples rock hard as I cupped them and played with them.

I lifted my shirt off, and started to kiss her neck, our tops now skin to skin.

“Mmmmm . . . I think that’d be fucking hot, knowing your cum was in both of us,” she murmured back. She was grinding her delectable ass onto my cock harder and harder, and it was obvious the idea was turning her on. I undid my belt, button, and zipper, pushing my slacks down and off, and then found the zipper on her skirt, pushing it down, feeling her step out of it, me kicking it away, leaving her in a tiny thong that I knew would be drenched.

“Mmmmm . . . I’d spend the whole time wishing it were you instead . . . ”

“Oooohhhhh, yeah, I like that . . . do it for me?”

I pushed my bikini underwear down and off, and then did the same with her thong, my cock resting on her ass and lower back. I let my cock drop down between her legs, feeling her open them, letting my cock spring up against her sex, feeling her heat, feeling how wet and slippery she was.

“If you want me to, I will for you . . . ” I said, pushing her forward onto the bed, straddling her, my cock sliding across the luscious folds of her labia, along her lips, feeling her coat my cock with her juices, feeling her entrance with my tip, slowly sliding in, relishing the feel of her magical pussy gripping me, feeling her moan as I took her, slowly pushing in, farther and farther, finally bottoming out as my balls made contact with her ass, slowly withdrawing and then slowly pushing back in, again and again.

She moaned softly as I took her, and she turned her head and murmured, “Yes. I want you to . . . fuck Julie the way you fuck me . . . ”

She was surprisingly turned on at the idea, and I had to admit I was as well. And to be egged on while fucking Lauren, well, that was going to make me cum pretty quickly. And Lauren, too.

I loved having women on their stomach as I straddled their ass. It let me get amazing penetration depth, hit their g-spot and their cervix (gotta be careful – very sensitive area, that!), and let the woman put great pressure on my cock. The downside was that I couldn’t play with her amazing tits, couldn’t kiss, and couldn’t lock eyes. Usually it was a position I wouldn’t start with, but would save for later. But tonight . . .

“Mmmmm . . . you want me to fuck your neighbor and send her home with her pussy full of cum, eh? Make her scream? That’s what you want me to do? OK, baby, you’re on . . . just know you won’t be able to walk next Thursday because I will have fucked you so hard Wednesday night . . . ”

That talk had the same effect on Lauren as hers had on me, and I could feel her tip over to orgasm. A big one. It wracked her whole body, and I could feel her straining to flail around, held to the bed by my body. And as her pussy contracted on my cock, she sent me over the edge and a powerful blast of cum erupted from me into her, stream after stream of sticky hot white cum splashing into her, painting her womb, blasting her cervix. We both shouted out as we came, and it took us a couple of minutes to recover.

It was the fastest I’d ever cum with her – and it was amazing. I’d once asked her about protection – of course, after it was too late – and she had just smiled a little smile and said not to worry about it. I let myself slide out of her, knowing there’d be big wet spot on the bed, and then moved up next to her.

After we caught our breath, I whispered in her ear. “OK, I’ll fuck your friend if you really want me to. But I want to focus on just you the rest of the night.”

She moved to face me. “Deal. I’ll spend all night Friday wishing it were me, and wondering how much of a fight she’ll put up. But for the rest of tonight, it’s just us.”

And so it was. There was an extra dose of urgency in our fucking, whether from our agreeing to get together every Wednesday or from her wanting me to fuck Julie, or, more likely, from both. I’ve mentioned that Lauren was an athletic and imaginative lover, and we set some new records that night. I’m not sure we slept for more than a few minutes at a time, because one or the other would wake up, insatiable for the other, and start the next round. We’d drift off, and repeat the cycle.

I don’t know how many times we coupled, or how many orgasms either of us had. I do remember I had to change the sheets at one point because we had soaked them so thoroughly – Lauren orgasmed so hard that she squirted – twice. And I mean two different times. It was the kind of sex that makes everything else pale into insignificance. And I’d never felt more connected to her than that night.

I was glad I’d cleared Thursday – I wouldn’t have been able to accomplish anything coherent. And I was glad that Trevor, her husband, was traveling and that her kids were at her parents. It all meant that we didn’t have to race anywhere in the morning, and we took advantage, coupling one more time, her coaxing the last little bit of cum I had out of me, and then we moved downstairs to make some breakfast. I was completely spent, and proud to admit it. She was too.

As we sat down to coffee and breakfast, she said, “Wow. Just wow. I’m always shaking my head on the way home, thinking, ‘did that really happen? Was it really that incredible?’ That was just . . . unreal. Thank you . . . ”

“I know exactly what you mean . . . ” I said. “See why I’d never miss a chance to be with you?”

She nodded. “And see why I race to your bed every time I can?”

We both laughed a little, and then she had to get going – she did have to do some work, although she’d set it up as a work-from-home day.

And as she left, she reminded about our bet.

Which she won. I spent Thursday recovering and doing some of the background research I’d need for a project – nothing challenging. I was in something of a Lauren sex haze when my phone lit up with a message from a new number.

“Hi. Julie here – Lauren’s neighbor. I’m supposed to ask if you’re open for a ‘special massage’ tomorrow night.”

I laughed a little at it – looked like Lauren was ahead on our bet. I texted back, “Sure. It was good to meet you. What time works?”

The answer came back pretty quickly: “7 or 7:30?”

“7:30 it is.” I added my address, and asked if she were allergic to anything.

“No allergies. See you then.”

I laughed a little ruefully. Lauren knew her neighbor perhaps better than her neighbor herself did.

I texted Lauren next, “Looks like you’re ahead on our bet.”

She replied a minute later with a devil’s face and wink, followed by a “Wish it were me!”

Figuring that Lauren was right, I booked a king room at the Brown Palace for next Wednesday. We’d be there anyway, so why not?

Friday came, and Julie showed up right at 7:30. She rang the bell, and I opened the door, motioning her in.

“Hi! Good to see you. How are you?” I asked her.

She took a second to respond. “I’m good, but Lauren says I’ll be even better. And, yeah, nice to see you again.”

She looked good – quite a bit shorter than Lauren, probably 5’5″ or so, and with a less athletic build – more hourglass. She was wearing a brightly colored set of yoga pants, which accentuated her mons, and what looked like a matching top under a t-shirt type of cover. Black hair, somewhat lean lips, bright eyes. It wasn’t hard to see why a guy would be attracted. She seemed a little unsure of herself, a change from the more confident woman she’d been at the Tavern.

“Come on in – have a seat. Can I get you anything? Drink, wine, water?”

“That’d be great. Do you have any white wine? And some water, please.”

“You bet.” I stepped into the kitchen and poured her a glass of white, along with a glass of water. I took them out to her and sat down next to her on the couch, leaving a comfortable distance.

“Thanks. So . . . how does this work?” she asked, curious, as she sipped on the wine.

“You’ve had massage before?” She nodded. “Just like a regular massage. When you’re ready, I’ll take you up to the massage room and you can get ready. Then I’ll come in and massage you. If you ever get uncomfortable, just say something, wave your hand, hit me, whatever – and I’ll stop. Make sense?”

She nodded. “That sounds easy enough . . . ”

“Yep, should be.” I took a drink of water, wondering if Lauren would truly win our bet. Julie seemed just comfortable enough that it could go either way. She drained her wine glass, and gave a polite “no, thank you” when I asked if she’d like more. She took a long pull from the water glass, and seemed to come to a resolution.

“OK, ready?”

“You bet. Follow me.” She followed me upstairs, and I pointed her to the study, which I had now converted to a massage studio. My table was set up in the center of the room, with a chair and side table to put her clothes and anything else, a bottle of massage oil in a holster on the side of the table, and a white towel for draping.

“Bathroom is right there if you need it. I’ll step out and let you get ready – just disrobe to your level of comfort, and you can use the towel as a drape if you’d like. I’ll be back in a little bit.” And with that, I left, walking into my bedroom, seeing a mass of messages on my phone, but really only two that mattered.

One from Terri – “Saturday. 7.” That was easy. “Yes. Sully’s?”

A moment later – “Yes.”

And a number from Lauren – “Is she there?”

“Yes – ‘getting ready’ now. More later.”

A second later: “Wish I were there!”

“Me too!”

And then it was time. I walked over to the office and knocked, then pushed in. “Ready?”

“I think so.”

Contrary to my expectation, Julie had opted for fully naked with no drape, letting me see her whole body. It turned out that her yoga pants had not been lying when they suggested a terrific rounded ass. She was definitely more of an hourglass figure than Lauren, and didn’t have Lauren’s musculature, but I had to admit it was an appealing sight – and one that started to turn me on.

The office was set up with the same insulated blackout curtains and linen curtains as my bedroom, and I’d closed the linen ones but not the blackout ones. There was enough light coming through to see, augmented by a couple of candles (scentless) that I’d lit. And there was some typical massage music playing, though I had created to playlist to get sexier and sexier.

I took off my shorts and shirt, leaving me in a pair of short men’s bikini underwear, and put my hand on the small of her back. I had thought about trying to lose the bet on purpose, but that didn’t seem very sporting. So I started my massage of her on her feet, and as I worked up her leg I could feel her relax just a little. I worked the inner part of her thigh a little and then moved up to her ass, which was softer and fuller than Lauren’s. I could feel her fighting with herself – part of her wanted to tell me to stop, the other wanted me to keep going.

I worked back down her leg and switched to the other, spending a little more time on her inner thigh and feeling her warmth, letting a finger graze her sex and feeling her jump as I did. I worked up over her ass, and then did her hips, which she seemed to really like – she relaxed a little bit more, and I worked back to her inner thighs, this time fingering her sex so that she’d know it was intentional. She stiffened for a second, pulling her body away from my finger, before taking a deep breath and relaxing her body, putting me back in contact with her.

I let my finger gently explore her – up and down, the sides of her labia, just brushing against her clit, feeling her breathing quicken as she fought herself against telling me to stop. So I leaned down to her ear, and just asked, “OK?”

And got a staccato nod in reply. I played with her a little more actively, feeling her get wet as I gently played, before moving back up to her ass and starting up her lower back. Before I did, I pushed my bikini briefs down and off, leaving both of us naked, me starting to rise as I worked her back while standing by her side. I worked up her spine, up her neck, across her shoulders, back down her shoulder blades, down her sides, back to her ass, and then back up, feeling her relax a little more, switching over to a gentle touch and getting goosebumps in return.

I swung up onto the table and straddled her, my cock draped across her ass, her recognizing it with a quick and sharp intake of breath before she willed herself to relax again. For my part, I just let my cock rest on her as I stroked her back lightly with my fingers, seeing her goosebump all over again, and then put my lips to the middle of her back and started kissing up her spine. I was half expecting her to stiffen and freeze, but she actually let out a soft moan.

“Oh, that feels great . . . ” she murmured as I slowly kissed my way up her spine, reaching her neck, and moving her hair out of the way so I could kiss and gently tongue the back of her neck. I worked around to the side of her neck, just breathing on her ear, and then moved to her other side. All the while my cock was on her back, sending its own insistent message.

I kissed my way back to the middle of her back, swung off of her while leaving a hand on the small of her back, and softly asked, “Ready to turn over?”

“I think so . . . ” she said softly. And after a moment, she rotated over and settled herself on the table. “OK like this?” she asked.

“Yep, that’s great.”

She gave a nervous chuckle. “Can you go slow? It’s been a long time since anyone but Ben has touched me anywhere . . . sensitive.”

“You bet. Was your back OK? Seemed to be.”

She actually blushed. “You could probably tell I was fighting myself – I wanted you to just keep going and going, and then . . . oh, never mind. Yeah, back was the right speed.”

I smiled. “OK. And same thing – if you get uncomfortable, let me know. It’s supposed to feel great.”

Julie gave me a little smile. “OK, will do. One question – OK to touch back?”

“Of course. Whatever you like,” I replied, slightly relieved that she wanted to touch back. That was a good sign – before she’d asked, I had no idea if Lauren or I were going to win the bet. Lauren won if I fucked Julie’s brains out; I had banked on Julie being married and seemingly a little uptight to bet the other way.

So I started on her foot again, and she visibly relaxed as I worked up to her inner thigh and groin. She had shaved very recently, and her groin and pussy area were soft and smooth. I smiled at her as my finger traced her sex and grazed over her clit, which felt completely engorged. She smiled back and then closed her eyes as I worked down and up her other leg. I kept going up, across her tummy, which was soft but not flabby at all, to her sides, up to her clavicles, then down, brushing against her breasts and seeing and feeling her nipples harden and her breathing quicken.

That was a hint worth taking – I started to play with her nipples more intentionally, and reached down to blow on them, which definitely seemed a turn-on for her. I let one hand slide down her tummy to her groin, and found her clit, feeling her legs open slightly so I could get at it better. I started to slowly circle it very lightly, and let my finger dip down to her sex, feeling her heat and her wet – after taking a little while to get wet, she made up for it! I moved back to her clit, softly massaging it, while my other hand continued to play with her nipple. And figured what the hell – I was already leaned over her to blow on her nipple, and reached down a little further to let my tongue contact it, slowly swirling it and feeling her arch her back to push her breast farther up, into my mouth, at the same time her hand took hold of my cock and started squeezing and running up and down.

Her hand on my cock felt great as she ran her hand up and down, and I sucked her breast into my mouth, tonguing her nipple hard. And at the same time, my finger found its way into her pussy, feeling her heat and how wet she was – it felt like she’d literally drip. She moaned out loud as my finger slipped inside her, followed by another, and her hand on my cock started to steer me.

It’d be tough to miss a pointed hint like that, and so I climbed up on the table with her, her legs opening and then wrapping around me, and her hand guided me to her sex, moving me around to coat me with her now free-flowing juices, and then practically pulled me into her, her hand moving to my ass as the head of my cock entered her, drawing a deep moan of pleasure, which continued as I sank myself deeper and deeper into her, my balls finally coming to rest on her, our pubic bones gently colliding, and I felt her take a sharp breath.

I moved my mouth off of her nipple to her ear and just asked, “OK?” I got one of her unmistakable staccato nods in return, and let my mouth and tongue just graze her ear before nibbling softly on her earlobe. I could feel her pussy pulsing on my cock, alternately squeezing and relaxing, squeezing and relaxing, and could feel just how drenched she’d gotten. As I nibbled on her ear, she groaned in pleasure and I moved down her neck, under her chin, finally brushing her lips with mine, feeling her respond tentatively (if it had been forever since anyone had touched her, it had probably been just as long since anyone had kissed her, let alone as hard as I was) and then more confidently.

We fucked like that for a while before she broke off a kiss and asked if we could move to a bed. Of course. So we moved to my bedroom and picked up right where we had left off, my cock sliding into her effortlessly, her groaning in pleasure as she took me in, my mouth either on her tits or kissing her hard or nibbling her ears or neck. It was as I sucked her breast into my mouth and let my teeth graze her nipple that I felt her start to quake as an orgasm built up inside her. I nibbled her nipple a little harder, and felt her moaning louder and louder, all while thrusting deep into her soaking wet pussy.

So I bit down a little harder, timing it to coincide with my cock bottoming out in her. She got into the rhythm too, her hands now on my ass pulling me in, seemingly trying to pull me in just a little more on each thrust. By now she was moaning continuously, occasionally grunting as we’d hit a particularly good spot. Her orgasm built and built, and you could tell if was going to be huge. As it was going to be for me – the pressure in my balls from all the cum building up was almost painful.

She tipped over the edge as I bit down on her nipple again and as my tongue danced around on it at the same time that it felt like she actually had pulled me in a little bit deeper. She let out an animalistic scream, and her body shook as orgasm claimed her, wracking her body. And as the avalanche of orgasm claimed her and her pussy spasmed on my cock, she sent me over the edge. All the cum that had been building as I massaged and touched and teased and then fucked her came boiling up, and I let out a yell as my own orgasm devoured me, sending a torrent of cum deep into her slippery pussy, streak after streak of sticky hot white fluid splashing into her womb, painting her white. Her eyes popped open and shined as she felt me spurting into her, that sudden shot of heat and pressure that some women describe.

Her hands were desperately clawed onto my ass – it was good thing she didn’t have long fingernails – holding me inside as her pussy milked my cock for every drop she could get. We went through the usual aftershocks, and stayed coupled for what felt like a long time afterward. She finally asked what time it was – very erotic, right? – and was relieved when I said just past 10. Her hands shifted to gently stroking my back, and then she was moving us to our sides, the better to talk.

“W . . . wow.” She started off a little shakily. “OK, so now I know why Lauren said I had to get your ‘special massage.'” She laughed to herself for a moment. “Can we do it again?”

“You don’t think Lauren would mind?” I asked, knowing I’d rather keep Lauren.

“I’ll ask. And if she does – sucks for me.” She looked away for a minute, and then, softly, “That’s the first time I’ve ever done anything like that. I thought it’d be awful and I’d feel . . . guilty, cheap, all that. And instead I feel . . . liberated. Empowered. Thank you.”

Yeah, that was hugely flattering – possibly the best thing anyone had told me. “I’m happy to have helped you get there. And,” I chuckled, “it was amazing for me too.”

She smiled – one of those for-real smiles that comes from a person’s core. And, warning – cliché time – my heart skipped a beat.

“Well, as much as I want to stay, I’d better get going. Ben’s probably been blowing up my phone.”

I slid out of bed to get it from the office, drawing a whistle from her as I walked. I handed it over to her and she flicked through it. “Hmmmm . . . not bad. Just one saying hope you’re having a good time and another asking when I’ll be home.” She typed out a quick message and sent it, then turned her phone around to show me. “Starting to wind down now. Should be 11-1130. Love ya!”

A minute later her phone lit up. She chuckled, and showed it to me – he’d sent back just a heart emoji.

“Do you want to run through the shower?” I offered.

“Part of me does, most of me doesn’t . . . I want to keep you in me as long as I can. I forgot how sexy it is to feel a man cum in me. No wonder Lauren told Trevor she’d be taking a night for herself from now on.” She got that light-bulb look – “Oh! You’re why she’s taking a night . . . ”

I chuckled a little. “Well, I don’t know that I was the reason. Partly, maybe. But I think she realized she needed time for herself to do what she wanted.”

Julie nodded thoughtfully. “Yep, that makes sense. I should too.” She started to move to get up, and a trickle of white fluid leaked out of her. “God, that is so hot . . . ”

It had stirred me as well, and if she hadn’t set a time on when she’d be back I’d have taken her again. But we both held off the temptation, and we both got dressed. She kissed me at the door. “Thank you again. That was the best massage ever.” And she turned and purposefully walked to her car, waving as she pulled away.

I watched her drive off and was lost in thought for a moment. It’d been a lot of fun, particularly coaxing her through her hesitations, but I wondered what the point had been. It almost felt like a random sex encounter, and while that wasn’t the worst thing in the world, I felt a little disappointed. There was nothing there, and never would be. Just off how good it had been, I’d have sex with her again, but she’d get more out of it than I would. Which made me wonder if I was starting to want someone where it could be something more than just sex – as amazing as it was with the women I was sleeping with. 11 married – no, make that 12 now, and only a couple who were single.

I thought ahead to tomorrow night – Terri and I were meeting at 7, and it seemed likely that we’d have another absolutely torrid night – if our first meeting had been anything to go by. And realized I needed to text Lauren. I decided to just send her the reservation to the Brown Palace, so pulled it up and forwarded it to her.

A minute later she replied “!” and a minute later with “And . . .?”

“You won! Looking forward to Wednesday . . . ” adding the devil face emoji.

“Oh, come on! Deets!” I noted the imperative and not the interrogatory.

“Hmmmm. Let me just say that she loved her special massage. And that she left saying she felt liberated and empowered.”

A moment went by, and I could see Lauren typing. And then a whole row of the thumbs-up emoji.

“That’s how you make ME feel,” she wrote. My heart swelled. “That’s why I wanted you to fuck Julie – to give her a chance to feel that way too.”

I sent back the big smile emoji – five of them. “You just made my night telling me that . . . ”

And then: “Gotta go – Trevor back.” Followed by the kissing emoji – again, a whole row.

“Night!”

Well. That was something I’d never even thought of. I’d been too busy reveling in the amazing sex to think past that at all. It made me feel great, like there was a point to it for Lauren, and likely others, beyond physical gratification. And I wondered for a second if Terri was single. Damn, life could get very complicated very quickly!

While Julie had been a good lover, she wasn’t nearly as physical as Lauren or Terri or Jill or Angie and Tracy. So I wasn’t nearly as tired, which was good, as I expected to Terri to totally wear me out Saturday night – to the point that I’d blocked off Sunday and Monday nights. And I couldn’t wait.

Saturday rolled by lazily, and I headed down to Sully’s in plenty of time to park and get to the bar by 7. I claimed two barstools and sat on one, watching the door. Sure enough, right at 7 Terri walked in, and, to the accompaniment of men’s necks snapping around, spotted me and walked – no, danced – over. She stopped in front of me, a severe look on her face.

“Is this open?” She was trying to do the same haughty attitude she’d started with, but her eyes gave it away.

“I’m saving it for the brilliant beautiful passionate woman I met last week,” I said, trying to keep it going.

“Well, hell, mind if I claim her spot?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t,” and then she gave me that smile and we hugged, kissing briefly before sitting down.

“How was your week?” I asked, figuring I’d jump in first.

She looked like the question caught her out, which I hadn’t seen before. “Long.”

“Work?”

“No. Work is easy. It was a long time to wait.” That was the most . . . vulnerable I’d seen her – and, yeah, I know, that didn’t seem very vulnerable in the grand scheme of things. But coming from her, who gave every outward appearance of being in total command, it did.

“I can relate, if it makes you feel any better. And that’s one of the nicest things I’ve heard. Now I just need to not screw it up tonight.” I grinned at her. “So what would you like to drink?”

She ordered the same vodka martini, specifying the highest grade vodka they had. I again took the bait and ordered an 18 year old Macallan single malt.

“Well, at least you’re consistent with your drink choices. Does it carry over?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye as she consciously replayed some of our initial back and forth at the bar when I’d said he wasn’t coming.

“You can judge for yourself – see what you think.”

“Well, you showed up and weren’t even tardy. That’s a start – more than Arn could manage.”

“Was that the 6’3″ Norse god you were supposed to meet?”

“Damn, you remembered. Yeah, that was him. Want to put a bet on whether he contacted me after that?”

“Hmmmm. I’d bet yes.”

“Yeah, you’d be right. Said he was sorry we couldn’t hook up that night and wanted to know about Wednesday.”

“That sounds about right,” I said. “Did you go for it?”

She snorted. “FUCK no.” (I swear I could hear each capital letter.) “No one gets to stand me up and then ‘hook up’ (in air quotes). Besides, I told him I met someone infinitely more interesting.” She turned her head to see how I’d react.

“OK, I’ll risk being labeled a narcissist. I’m flattered. And I’d say the same.”

She chuckled a little. “Well, that’s the most self-awareness from any man I’ve talked to in forever. Bonus point.” She sipped her drink. “Do you think you have enough quarters and dimes in your sofa for dinner?”

I laughed – she had remembered. “Good memory. Yeah, I think if I check the La-Z-Boy we can do that. Good thing – I’m famished! Here or get a table?”

“Table.” I nodded and waved down the bartender, asking for the tab and for a table. This time the hostess remembered us from last week, and we found ourselves in a cozy booth.

“Nice! Do they know you here? Bring all your ‘interesting’ dates here?”

“I never bring anyone here,” I said softly. “This is usually a place just for me, or for me and my friend Ted. Who, you might appreciate, actually practices law for a living.” That made her crack a smile.

“Ooohh, does that make me special?” There was a hint of an edge underneath the words.

I paused. “Yes. Just in case you didn’t know.”

That actually gave her pause. “Wow, a direct answer. And thank you, because I don’t know ‘special’ for you.”

“And I for you, for that matter. I’ll guess yes, or you wouldn’t be here – you could have chalked up Sunday to an intense fling.”

She smiled. “Are you always this ‘meta’? But you’re right and wrong. I could have thought of Sunday as the best one-night stand ever. But that was FAR too good to wave away.”

“What part of that was meta? And, yeah, me too.”

“You’re really thoughtful about all of this – sex, dating, women . . . ”

“Interesting subjects to me.” I let it go at that. “Speaking of, I don’t even know if you live here or just here all the time on business.”

She laughed at that. “True. We didn’t exactly engage in a lot of ‘hello, who are you?,’ did we?” She looked off in the distance for a second. “No, I live here – Cherry Creek North. A cliché for sure – the other senior partners are either there or in Cherry Hills Village or Greenwood Village. You? You said you travel occasionally for the military.”

“Here also. Over by the old airport. Your house is probably nicer than mine.”

She cocked her head. “Eh, maybe. Cost me enough – two marriages, putting kids through hell . . . ” She shook her head. “So when I seem like a bitch, that’s why.”

“Sorry to hear. I can empathize some – one marriage, one kid through hell, but he seems OK. The worst year for him was the year I got deployed to Iraq – back in 2009.”

“What were you doing in Iraq?”

“I can’t say a lot, but I was the team lead for people who would go try to find people that people from the government wanted to ‘interview.’ Long year.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Sounds scary.”

“Yep, that’s about right. So anyway – you’re a senior enough partner you don’t have to travel much?”

“Yes. Never liked that part.” She let Iraq go. “I’m the prettiest face, so I do a lot of the public facing work – PR, politics, all that.”

“Prettiest face is easy to believe – can’t imagine a prettier one.”

She was actually tongue-tied for a moment, and finally said, simply, “thank you.”

Our salads arrived (we’d ordered somewhere in there) and we plowed in, chatting as we did. Our entrees arrived shortly after, along with wine, and the wine steward made the typical show about opening the bottle, presenting the cork, which I pointed to her, and then pouring a taste and awaiting the verdict – which was, needless to say, positive.

I lifted my glass. “Well. To making the most of completely random meetings!” We toasted and drank. She actually laughed a little bit, and murmured something I couldn’t quite make out.

“What? Sorry, I missed that,” I said.

She laughed again and raised her glass. “I said, ‘and to fucking like rabbits.”

“I’ll definitely drink to that!” And so we did.

The food was always terrific, and tonight was no different. It was fun chatting and bantering back and forth, and seeing her actually relax some in public. We took our time eating, and declined the waitresses offer of dessert, Terri actually cracking a smile.

“So I think my line is something like ‘Want to get out of here?’ And yours is . . .”

“Yes,” she said, cutting me off. She also managed to slip a credit card into the check folder without even looking at it, and silencing me with a look. “You got the drinks and room last time. My turn – my pleasure.”

“Well, thank you – that was delicious. Did you drive?”

“Oh, hell no – I knew I’d have a cocktail and wine. You?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

“OK, well, let’s go see what bucket of bolts you brought,” she kidded with a smile.

We went out and the valet retrieved my car, opening the door for her to climb in and closing it after her. I tipped the valet, and got in the driver’s seat. I had a year old Honda Accord, which was definitely slumming it for her.

“OK, I take back the bucket of bolts line. Competent. Your house. Go.”

I laughed at her order, and we got there in about 20 minutes. I pulled into the garage, and she could see my project car – an older BMW M3.

“OK, that’s the bucket of bolts. I use the Honda when I want to know everything will work when I press the button.”

She nodded, seeing my road bike and mountain bike hanging, skis propped against the wall, etc. And I’m sure she saw the three olive green duffel bags, marked “A,” “B,” and “C.”

“Please tell me you aren’t going to ask me to go camping.”

“Nope, you’re safe from that. A Marriott is close enough for me, unless the Army really decides I need to take a trip for them.”

She gave an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Whew! Worried for a minute I was going to have to call an Uber.”

I opened the door to the first floor, and we took off our shoes – moderately tall heels for her, shiny black Ecco’s for me. I gave her the quick tour, and she commented on the floor to ceiling windows on one wall and on the tallish speakers in the living/great room.

“Do they work?” she asked.

I chuckled and hit “play” on a remote, and some sexy electronica started playing. Well, I thought it was sexy electronica – it was the same playlist I’d played for Julie the night before.

She recognized the first track immediately. “Wow – Ulrich Schnauss. I’m impressed.”

So was I. “Glad you like him. I do too. OK, what can I get you as a nightcap. Water is a given. And I’ve got . . . ”

She put her hand on my arm, and I shut up. “Just water is great.”

“You got it,” I said, even if I didn’t want to move her hand off my arm.

I poured a couple large glasses of water and motioned her to the couch to join me, putting our water glasses on the coffee table, sitting next to her. We both reached for water at the same time, saw it, and laughed. And as we reached them, we both pivoted and tried to let the other drink out of our glass, kinda like at a wedding where the bride and groom hold each others glass and tilt it for them to drink. It actually worked – we both took a healthy drink from the others’ glass and managed to set them back down, arms intertwined, laughing a little bit that we’d had the same thought at the same time and actually pulled it off.

The next thing I knew I was pulling her to me, finding her lips with mine, kissing her softly, feeling her instantly respond, and then I was pushing her over, laying her on the couch, kissing, kissing, feeling her hands on my back, her tongue melding with mine, our lips dancing, brushing against each other, dancing again, then harder and harder as our tongues danced and sang. And then I was pulling her up off the couch, taking her hand, leading her to my bedroom, unzipping and lifting her dress off her perfect body, seeing her before me in a tiny bra and thong, and she was lifting my shirt off me, breaking our kiss just long enough to toss it away, and her fingers were undoing my belt and button and zipper, one of my hands on her back and the other trailing down to her perfect ass, squeezing, and then she was pushing my slacks down and off.

As she stood back up, our eyes locked onto each other’s. I felt my hand undo the clasp on her bra and felt it loosen, moving the straps and seeing and feeling her perfect breasts against me. And at the same time her hand went to my briefs and tugged them down, reaching down to stroke my aching cock and to release it, pushing them down and off, feeling me step out of them. It was my turn, and reached down to push her thong down and off, our eyes locked the entire time, and then I was laying her down on the bed, climbing on top of her, her hands pulling my head to hers, her lips seeking out mine, grazing them, locking on them, kissing me hard, feeling her passion and her desire.

The way we kissed could have started a proverbial fire. I moved between her legs and felt her heat, my cock sliding on her, over her already drenched folds and slit, back and forth. The tip of my cock was slippery from her juice, and found itself to her opening. And this time, I took my time, letting my cock explore every inch, reveling in her moaning with pleasure as we slowly coupled. Just like our first time, I couldn’t quite get all of my cock inside her, though based on our first night together that would change. I groaned in ecstasy as she squeezed me with her strong vaginal muscles, and moved around a little to stimulate her further.

We stopped kissing as I bottomed out inside her, staring at each other, our eyes on fire, her hands firmly on my ass holding me in deep. We lay like that for a little bit – who knows how long, really, right? – and then we started our rhythm, picking up speed, sliding in and out of what I had to say was the best feeling pussy or cunt (choose your term!) I’d ever felt. It was just . . . perfect, a word I’ve probably used too much to describe her. But she had the best combination of pressure, movement, wetness, and a certain . . . ‘je ne sais quoi’ that I’d ever felt.

And she amped it up even more with her running egging me on comments, which made me both want her even more and made me respond in kind – a kind of positive feedback loop. We were both past needing to hold off orgasm, so we could just enjoy. She came first, with a shriek and body convulsions that started from deep in her body, her arms flailing, eyes unseeing – and that was about when she sent me over the edge, in a similar fashion.

I felt my balls empty, semen racing down my shaft to spurt into her, hot white sticky fluid leaping out of me, spraying her cervix, painting her walls white, feeling her react to the shot of pressure and heat, both of us giving a primal cry as filled her with my seed, claiming her as my own as she claimed me for her. We lay coupled deeply, for a while. And as we both came back to each other, she was the first to be able to speak.

“So it wasn’t just beginner’s luck last time,” she said, and started laughing, which made me laugh, which encouraged her, and onwards. Pretty soon we were laughing so hard I slid out of her with an audible whoosh and lying on our sides facing each other.

“I guess not!” I said back.

“Thank god – for a minute I was worried,” she said, teasingly. She felt semen leaking and looked down, seeing it dribble down across her thigh and onto the mattress. “Although if we keep that up I’m going to start doubting that you’re not trying to knock me up.”

“Hmmmm . . . I am . . . equipped if needed,” glancing at my nightstand.

She gave a soft laugh. “Oh, hell no. It feels WAY too good when you cum in me. I love it. I was leaking for days. Love that feeling. Worried?”

I shook my head and smiled. “Nope.”

She gave me the ‘tell me more’ look I was already familiar with.

“You feel WAY too good to put anything in between. As for worried, well, if it can happen, and does happen, I always figure it would happen no matter what. And we’re both at an age where it’d be unlikely anyway . . . ”

She laughed that soft laugh again as I trailed off. “Well, that’s for sure. It was tough getting pregnant with my daughter. And, if it does, I’ll just take it as a miracle sign that it’s supposed to. Just don’t hold your breath!”

My turn for a soft laugh. “Fair enough. But I want to spend the rest of the night making you doubt it.”

She smiled back. “You are on. What’s the most times you’ve cum in one night?”

“Seven in one night, nine in 24 hours.”

“Holy shit – really? Now that’s my goal – something to aspire to! How many did we hit Sunday?”

“Five, I think,” I said, mentally counting. “And I’m sorry to say I don’t have any idea for you, except ‘more than five.’ And yeah, that’s a good goal. Even if I know you’ll make it.”

“You think?”

“Oh, for fucks sake, do you know how much you turn me on? I spent the week counting down. And not just for sex.”

She gave me a piercing look. “Really? What else?”

“Want a list?”

“Oh, this should be interesting . . . yes, if you’re offering.”

“Banter. Wit. Intelligence. Drive. Decisiveness. Vulnerability. Passion. There. How’s that?”

“No one has ever said that to me before,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

“You did ask. I’ll always tell you the truth, even if I know you won’t like it.”

“Same. Sometimes without you asking.”

“All the better,” I said back.

“OK, so truth – I want us to spend the rest of the night and the morning fucking our brains out.” And she reached for my quickly hardening cock . . .

The night and morning went exactly as she said she wanted – if we slept more than a couple of hours I’d be shocked. By the time we woke up to sunlight streaming through the linen curtains, we were both completely spent – too tired and sore to couple again, settling for tender kissing and holding, as even our lips and mouths were worn out.

For my part, I was taken aback at how comfortable it was waking up with her – that dark hair splashed out on my chest and pillow, the feel of her skin on my body, her arm spread across me, one of her legs nestled between mine. Don’t get me wrong – it was great waking up with Tracy and Angie, and with Lauren, and . . . but this was just . . . different. More relaxed. More . . . together. More . . . better.

She woke with a soft moan of pleasure. “Oh, man, do you feel good,” she murmured. One of my hands was caressing her back. I could almost feel her eyes close again as she soaked it in. “Mmmmmmm . . . you can do that anytime,” she said dreamily. “Even better . . . all the time.”

“Any time you want,” I murmured. “You have great skin.” And she did.

“My ex was pretty critical. Hypocrite. ‘You should lose a few pounds – looks like you’re ass is a little bigger.’ Or tummy. Or thighs. Or ‘do you want to do augmentation?’ He was a total asshole that way.”