“You’re serious? He said that? What was he, blind?”
She gave a short bark of a laugh. “He did. Finally got tired of it and told him to stuff it and that he should look after himself first.”
“Good for you. I’d say don’t change a thing.”
She moved her head so we could look eye to eye. “Really.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, really. I think you look . . . hell, perfect.” My eyes burning probably helped convince her.
“I’ve never heard that before . . . thank you,” she said softly. And if I weren’t so sore, I’d jump your amazing body again. She glanced down. “Wow – looks like you’re bruised above your pubic bone.” She shifted her glance. “And that would make two of us. Fuck. Never done that before.”
“Yep, it’ll take a day or two to recover.”
She snorted. “More like all week for me. Oh – that reminds me. Are you free Thursday? I have to go to a cocktail reception downtown – a bunch of politicians and the like. Show the flag.”
“You bet. Tux, suit, or jacket and tie?”
“Really? You’ll go? Just like that?”
“Yes. Just like that.”
“I didn’t even know if I was going to ask – I’m so used to going by myself.”
“Well I’m thrilled you’re willing to be seen in public with me.” I could have said it teasingly, and would have if she hadn’t said the piece about being used to going by herself.
“Wow. OK. Great. Mind driving and picking me up?”
“Happy to. Dress?”
“Oh, coat and tie is good unless you want to go for the suit. I’ll pull out one of my LBDs. Just not the one I wore when we met. I leaked so much of you onto it I can’t wear it anymore.” She laughed her soft laugh. “One of my favorites.”
“Yep, I seem to remember filling you a few times that night. Like five. Which I haven’t done in a long time.”
She seemed pleased with herself. “And six last night,” she said.
“Yep, I think that’s right.”
“Something tells me the next couple might be even more fun. I just have to work myself back into shape.”
“You and me both,” feeling slightly guilty that I’d probably been having a lot more sex than she had.
She gave that wonderful soft laugh again. “Oh, I doubt it. You’ve got a rolodex going.”
“Well, OK, I might have less work to do than you. By choice?”
She gave a smile with a hint of bitterness in it. “Well, work is out. And I don’t have much time outside of work, so it boiled down to either meeting someone off a hookup site or running into someone interesting. And I was ok with the occasional hookup – a girl has needs – but it got old. That’s partly why I was muttering loudly enough for you to overhear last Sunday – he’d seemed like a good guy, and it was the first time in a couple months I’d bothered to try.” She chuckled. “I certainly can’t complain about how the night turned out.”
“Yep, makes sense. Dating was easy, anything more has been challenging. Seems a lot of the women I met online were married.” I did a half-shrug so as not to move her head.
“Did that bother you?” Curious, not challenging.
“Not as long as I knew up front. They’re grown women and perfectly capable of making their own decisions. This isn’t the part where you reference ‘husband’ or ‘significant other,’ is it?”
She laughed out loud at that one. “Oh, no. Been divorced for like 5 years. Went out with one guy for about a year but it didn’t work out. Fair question, though. You?”
“Same re divorce. Went out with one woman for about a year and a half; also didn’t work out. So I go out with someone once in a while, usually someone I met online.”
She was curious. “What usually happens? Turn into a one-night stand?”
“Seems like a lot of them do – particularly with married women. And that’s fine.”
She chuckled a little herself. “Yeah, a couple of the guys I slept with were married. I didn’t mind – got what I wanted. Speaking of – do you have any breakfast stuff? Coffee? I’m starving.”
“You’re in luck. What would you like? You got the bacon and egg breakfast at the hotel – I can do that. Or pancakes or french toast, or cereal . . . ”
She smiled. “Tell you what. You do bacon and eggs and coffee, and I’ll make pancakes. Just show me where everything is.”
“You’re on. Do you want a robe or something? I’m perfectly happy staying like this – but let me know.”
She laughed. “Oh, I’m good. I’m naked at home a lot – have to dress up a lot for work and it’s nice when I don’t have to wear anything. Do you have blinds on the windows downstairs?”
I laughed. “I do, but if it’s ok I’ll just leave the linen ones closed. There’s nobody behind me – where the kitchen and eating area are.”
She started to roll off of me, and grimaced. “Wow, I’m more sore than I thought.” She planted her feet on the floor, and stretched, showing off that perfect body without meaning to. I followed, standing and stretching next to her for a moment, before slowly leading the way downstairs – I was as stiff and sore as she was.
We were pretty slow getting breakfast together, but I didn’t have to be anywhere and she said she didn’t either. So we sipped coffee and ogled each other between trading sections of the New York Times. I thought we’d made too much but was wrong – we worked our way through everything. She even helped with the dishes, joking that it was a good thing I had a cover for the bacon pan so flying fat hadn’t burned me.
Once done, I led her to the living room and put music back on as we snuggled together.
“For Thursday – would you like to stay over?” she asked.
“Now that is an offer I cannot refuse. Love to.”
“I’ve got an early meeting, but if you don’t mind that I’d like that.”
“Yes, love to. Anything I can bring?”
“Just yourself. Company bought a table at the party – just let the bartender know you’re with me. They’ll be surprised I have a ‘date’ but they’ll know. Hell, I’m surprised I’ll have a date.” She grinned. “Might have to keep you around a while. You even cook!”
I laughed. “If you’re open over the weekend, I’ll make you dinner.”
She cocked her head at me again. “Really?”
“Sure. I’m hardly a gourmet, but I do a pretty good chicken saltimbocca.”
She thought for a moment, as if recalling her schedule. “Supposed to do a book club Saturday, but they’ll manage without me. Saturday?”
“Sure. Say about 5?”
“OK. Just send me your address.”
We kissed gently. “Will do.”
So we stayed snuggled on the couch for a while before she said she should probably get home.
“So are you going to make me get an Uber or are you willing to take me home?”
“Oh, I think I can manage driving. Besides, don’t want an Uber driver getting too excited.”
She laughed. “I saw my hair – good god, man, what did you do to it? And yeah, it’d be pretty funny getting picked up by an Uber in a pair of fuck me pumps and my dress. They worked, though!”
“What, like you had any doubt?”
She smiled. “Well, not really. I’m pretty direct.”
“A good quality. OK, should we think about piecing clothes together? Do you want to borrow a pair of shorts and t-shirt or something?”
She looked at me up and down, then herself – the meaning clear. “I doubt even your smallest shorts would fit, but thanks. I’ll bring something Saturday.”
Gotta admit my heart skipped a beat at that.
So we fished around for her bra, panties, and dress, and I pulled a pair of shorts and a t-shirt on. She texted her address to me (yep, from 3 feet away), and maps said it was about 11 minutes away. She didn’t bother putting her shoes on – just carrying them along with her small black clutch purse. As we got close to her house, she directed me to the alley so she could go in through her garage.
She took my hand as I parked. “Thank you. That was the best night I’ve had in a long time.” She kissed me hard but briefly, and was out the door. I stayed just long enough to see her open the door from the garage to the house, and then the garage door closed and I started driving home. Usually I’d play music while driving, but didn’t, preferring the silence. It gave me a chance to think a little bit.
I thought back over the last week. ‘Holy fuck’ was about the only thing that came close. When had that started? What had I done Friday? Oh – right – I’d been out with one of my best friends on a guy’s night out. I was the one single in the group, and my friend Norm and a couple of the other guys lived vicariously through me. And then Saturday into Sunday had been Angie and Tracie – yikes. And then Jill for what was effectively a “quickie” Sunday afternoon. Followed by what I thought would be a solo dinner out, only to start talking to a drop dead woman who was used to brushing men off – Terri – and to end up getting a room at the Oxford with her, screwing each other into the ground for pretty much the whole night. That had been, until last night, the single best night of sex I’d ever had.
And then Lauren on Wednesday, another woman who could really wear me out – and did, while setting us up to get together more regularly, and, in the process, talking me into giving her neighbor Julie, who ran into us at the Tavern, one of my sensual massages. Which had, of course, turned to the first time she’d had sex with anyone but her husband since they’d been married – 14 years ago. And then last night with Terri, which had been otherworldly.
Yikes. I was starting to realize that pace wasn’t sustainable – I was in a quiet period work-wise, and when work kicked in I’d have a lot less flexibility. But, I reflected, that wouldn’t necessarily be the worst thing. I had gotten home, and walked in and headed for the stereo, putting on one of the first CDs (yeah, I still listened to them and had a couple thousand, to say nothing of my records) that I saw, and kicked back on the couch, spent. And as the music played, I started to wonder about the direction I wanted to go in. I knew myself well enough to know that limiting myself to one partner would be difficult – I liked meeting new women, and every one was wonderfully different. But I also knew that I liked big parts of being in a relationship.
A tough nut to crack. Luckily, I didn’t have to decide anything. I knew the various married women I was sleeping with would, over time, drift away as they were pulled in different directions – one of the married women I’d slept with from a previous ad had broken off, saying she’d enjoyed it and didn’t regret a thing but was moving on. And fair enough! And I hadn’t heard in a while from a couple of the women I’d met off the most recent ad. I think married women had a certain excitement to them, and had a level of . . . emotional safety, because they were extremely unlikely to want to divorce, and that put kind of an upper limit on how far things could go. I think I’d only met a couple of married women who actually divorced.
Well, I’d just see how things went. I confess to wondering if Lauren was perhaps setting things up to divorce Trevor – not just because of her wanting to get together more regularly, but also a number of other comments she’d made. And if asked, gun to her head at 230 AM, she probably wouldn’t know either. And I actively wondered what’d it be like to be with Terri on a day-to-day basis.
Anyway, I drank a quart of water and decided to try a bike ride – just on the trails around my house on my “mountain” bike.” Good, low-impact exercise to get blood flowing again and hopefully loosen my muscles. It worked – I rode for about an hour, got home and thought about showering bud didn’t want to wash Terri off of me just yet, and looked up the massage place I usually went to. I called in, and asked if the therapist I usually saw was open either later today or tomorrow. She had an opening tomorrow at 11, which I accepted. I looked over my schedule for the week, and laughed as I realized I’d be with Lauren on Wednesday, Terri on Thursday, and Terri again on Saturday. And based on experience so far, I’d be worn out.
Terri actually texted later to say thanks and asked if it was Thursday yet. Sadly no, I replied back.
The rest of the day was very low key – I listened to a lot of music, washed the sheets (there were huge wet spots all over them that had by now dried out), and basically just puttered around.
The next morning I showered and shaved – not fair to my therapist, Kristi, not to – and got there right as they opened at 11. I was, if anything, more sore than I’d been Sunday, and it was a blessed relief to feel her strong and capable hands massaging away the knots.
“Wow, you’re stiff today. Working out harder than usual?” she asked.
I chuckled, not entirely sure how to answer. “Well, that’s one way of putting it,” I said, and I’m sure she could see me flush slightly as I answered.
She laughed. “Aha – I think I understand. Must have been one hell of a fun weekend!”
“Yeah, it was definitely that . . . ” I figured a little kidding wouldn’t be a bad thing. “You should try it sometime.”
She leaned in a little harder on my upper back, working a knot. “Maybe I should. Are you volunteering?”
“Well, duh. Are you kidding? I might be a little old for you, though.”
She laughed as she continued working down my arm. “Oh, I wouldn’t let that stop me. I mean, come on – I know what you look like naked.”
I had to laugh – it was true. “True. But not the reverse. Hmmmmm . . . ”
For a second I thought she was going to lock the door and offer to show off. Instead, she said Tuesday was her day off.
“Tomorrow? Can you? Isn’t there a rule or something against it?”
“During a massage, yes. You’d lose your license. But not outside work. Not like a doctor or therapist.” She worked her back up my arm and started on the other.
I pondered as she worked. She was certainly good looking – part of the reason I kept going back to her. And she was a great massage therapist for me, mixing stronger pressure with much lighter, which I loved. She looked like she was in her late 20s, though – so like 20 years younger than me. Still . . .
“Well, if you’d like to do happy hour I’d be delighted to join you.” I named a pub near my house. “There about 5?”
“Great place. Sure. See you then. OK, ready to turn?” She held up the sheet and I turned over, now face up. As the sheet settled I tented it somewhat as we agreed on happy hour. She chuckled. “Totally normal,” she said. “Happens all the time.”
She worked up and down my legs, taking the usual caution to not get too close to my groin and carrying on the massage, which felt simply great. She worked up my sides to my chest, and asked if it was ok to do my upper chest. She always asked, and I always said yes – it’s a sensitive area. My arms were next – up and down, paying particular attention to my hands and forearms. She finished on my neck and scalp, which similarly felt great. She did her usual close, which was to cradle my head in her hands after pulling on my neck slightly to open it.
“OK, you are done. Feel better?”
I nodded. “Oh god yeah.” I realized I’d tented the sheet more and more and actually blushed. “Yikes – sorry about that!”
She smiled and just said, “Like I said – perfectly natural and normal. Make sure you drink a lot of water. But I know you will.” She paused. “5:00 tomorrow, right?”
“You bet – see you then.”
“Come on out when you’re ready – take your time.”
Yikes. I was raging hard, and still a little raw from Terri. I took a couple of deep breaths, and swung my legs over the table to get dressed. My cock slowly relaxed, and I was able to check out at the front desk without tenting my shorts. I drove home wondering if we had agreed to just meet for happy hour, or if she was taking the “volunteer” part more seriously. As I replayed our conversation, I realized that the latter was obvious. Well then! It occurred to me that if went that way, she’d represent the biggest age difference of someone I’d been with.
The rest of the day I caught up on drudge paperwork. I also finally saw a substantial direct deposit from the government, as they paid an invoice I’d sent in a few weeks ago. I spent the night relaxing and drinking water, and, I had to admit, wondering what Terri was doing. And what she’d think of my happy hour date the next day.
Tuesday was a productive day – I got a lot done. And still had time to shower, shave, etc., and get to the pub I’d suggested a couple minutes early, claiming one of the cocktail tables by the fireplace – not that it was needed in the middle of June. My phone tinged with a message from a new number.
“Hi – it’s Kristi. Running a couple of minutes behind. There soon.”
“No worry – I’m here – cocktail table by fireplace.”
It couldn’t have been more than a minute later that she walked in, spotted me, smiled brightly, and made her way over. We hugged briefly and sat down.
“Whew – my day off – you’d think I could be on time. Sorry! Have to get all my erranding done.”
“Oh, no sweat – most people wouldn’t have bothered to text about, what, 4 minutes? Anyway, what would you like to drink?”
“Margarita on the rocks, no salt, please,” she said, and I appreciated her decisiveness.
I went over to the bar, and the bartender had already heard it – “Rita on the rocks, no salt, right?” I grinned and nodded. “And for you, sir?”
I ordered a Beefeater and tonic with lime – good for a hot day, and carried them both back to the table. We raised our glasses, and clinked and sipped.
“Well, here’s to the best massage therapist I know!” She laughed a little bit.
“And here’s to volunteering,” she added, smirking slightly as we clinked and sipped again.
We went through some usual small talk, and ordered another round with a chicken quesadilla appetizer. The bar was picking up, so we leaned in closer together to better hear each other.
As we chatted, I added up my impressions. She’d be about 28 or 29, based on her chronology from college to massage school. She was on the tall side – an easy 5’8″ or 5’9″. And lean. Not overly thin, but lean – like she did a lot of cardio. I knew from experience she was strong. From what I could see, her breasts were big and slightly flat, but that could have been the sports bra she seemed to always wear. I assumed her tummy was pretty flat, and her butt was taut and slightly flat, attached to lean, muscular looking legs. And her face, always the most important, was really pretty, with gray eyes that twinkled and lips that were more rounded than her physique would suggest. She had longish sandy blonde hair that she always pulled back in a ponytail while working, but now was down and free. She looked great.
We finished our second drink, and motioned towards the bar as if to ask if she’d like another round. She shook her head, her eyes sparkling.
“Want to get out of here and come over for a nightcap?” I asked.
“Thought you’d never ask,” she said, grinning, and I could see her nipples poking through her sports bra and shirt. “I’ll just follow you.”
“Sounds good – it’s pretty close.” Of course she’d know that – she’d gotten my number from work, and my address was there too. I paid the check, and we walked out to the parking lot, where she had parked nose to nose with me.
We got in our cars, and I led the way to my house, my loins rising. I pulled in the garage, and she followed, parking on the driveway on the side, so I could still get my car out if needed.
I opened the door to the house and closed the garage door, seeing how she noted my Army duffle bags lined up, bikes, skis, etc. I held the door for her and she stepped in, slipping off her sandals as she did. I got a whiff of her scent as she stepped by me – it was clean, fresh, and subtle.
“Welcome in! What can I get you? I can’t make a margarita – sorry. Gin and tonic, vodka tonic, whiskey . . .?”
“Vodka tonic sounds great, thanks! And water.”
“Natch on the water.” I made myself a vodka tonic with lime also, and we carried drinks over to the living room, where I started music. We sat down, close to each other but not quite touching, raised our glasses again, and drank.
“So what made you not finish massage school? You said you took classes?”
“Yep, I got moved by the Army before I could finish. I remember some of it – some of the anatomy, techniques, etc. Actually, here – turn around a little and you can critique.”
She turned so her back was to me, and I said, “Just don’t laugh too hard, OK?”
I got a chuckle in return, and put my hands on the middle of her back and held them there for a moment, feeling her breathe and the thin fabric of her t-shirt. I then moved my hands around on her back, feeling and seeing the fabric of her sports bra, just warming the skin, and then I felt her lifting her shirt off and then her sports bra.
“Better if it’s hands on skin,” she said, by way of explanation.
“True that,” I said, letting my hands repeat their motions now on her bare back, before moving to the outer edge of her shoulders and beginning to knead her muscles, working up towards her neck, using light pressure to work the base of her neck, before working down slightly to get at knots between her spine and shoulder blades, working them with my thumbs and the palm of my hands.
“Wow, you’re pretty good, actually,” she said. “Most people don’t do the warm-up and then either use too much or not enough pressure.”
“I just try to pay attention and follow the trail,” I said. “That’s one of the things I remember – the receiver won’t steer you wrong.”
“Exactly! So you get it,” she said.
“I like to think so,” I said, continuing to work, but being tempted more and more to reach around her to play with her breasts. I of course gave in, and started to work toward her ribcage, switching between light massage pressure and a much more sensual touch with just my fingertips. Her breathing sharpened as I switched to the lighter touch, and as I started to drift closer to her breasts.
She leaned back against me in encouragement, and my fingers and hands brushed against the sides of her breasts, again feeling her breathing quicken, and feeling her head loll back on my shoulder. Her breasts were bigger than I’d expected – apparently the sports bras she wore really flattened them – and they were as firm as I’d imagined. I let my fingers wander across her breasts, grazing her nipples, feeling them stiffen, and I cupped her breasts and gently squeezed with my hands as my fingers started to twirl her now fully erect nipples, which felt quite big. She moaned as I played with her breasts and nipples, and her head lolled on my shoulder and then she reached for my head, turning it to hers, kissing me, her tongue urgently exploring and meeting mine.
I kept one hand on one of her breasts, and let the other start to wander down her flat tummy, just tracing with my fingertips, across her shorts, down her leg before reversing and tracing down her other leg, our mouths merged, feeling her groan in pleasure as I kept playing with her nipple and breast, letting my other hand drift across groin, then reaching in the waistband of her shorts, pushing down, into her panties, reaching for her sex, enjoying how smooth she felt, a finger dipping into her, feeling her heat and how wet she was, hearing her groan as my finger entered her.
Her legs opened to let me get at her sex more easily, and I started to push her shorts and panties – which turned out to be an almost invisible thong – down, and felt her other hand come to help, pushing them down and off those long, beautiful legs.
Naked, she turned and faced me, smiling widely and lifting my shirt up and off me, tossing it to the floor before returning her mouth to mine, reaching for the waistband of my shorts, fingers insistently working the button, undoing it, feeling for the zipper and feeling my cock, hard with desire for her, releasing the zipper and trying to force them off me – tough to do as she was straddling me. I lifted my ass and pushed them down, sending my underwear with them, leaving us naked with my cock sliding along her wet slit.
She moved slightly, took my cock in one of her hands, and guided me to her pussy, the head of my cock eager to take her. She started to gently lower herself onto me, and once she was satisfied I was firmly planted, sank down until she had fully engulfed me. She started to piston up and down on me, those gorgeous legs moving up and down, her eyes closing as she threw her head back in ecstasy as we coupled, my cock simply drenched in her juices. I kept up playing with her nipples and breasts, and was able to first tongue one and then suck it into my mouth, which made her squirm on my cock that much harder.
I could feel her starting to shake from deep within, and her first orgasm burst over her as she continued to piston up and down on my achingly hard cock. She came with a shriek as she bottomed out on me, and I felt her whole body shake. I slowed my assault on her wonderful tits, and concentrated on the feeling of my cock buried in her dripping sheath, feeling her squeeze me and relax over and over. After she recovered, I stood us up and led her upstairs to the bedroom, those gorgeous and powerful legs slightly unsteady to start but recovering completely by the time we got there.
My cock was still rock hard, not having cum, and I pushed her on the bed, climbing on top of her, putting her legs up in the air, and then ramming my cock back into her. It was amazing – she was tighter than most of the women I’d been with, which made sense as she hadn’t had children and was a lot younger. She moaned as I rammed into her over and over, her hands now on my hips urging me on. We were fucking too hard to kiss or for me to suck those gorgeous tits, and I leaned down to her ear.
“I’m going to fuck you all night, Kristi. Are you ready for that? Are you ready to get fucked hard all night and to feel me cum in you over and over?”
“Yes . . . fuck me. Fuck me hard . . . I want you . . . cum in me Bob – I want to feel your cum in me,” she panted out as we fucked.
I kept slamming into her, and felt my balls filling. I started to turn her on her side, and then tummy, managing to do it without my cock leaving her pussy. Now situated, I was able to go just a little deeper into her, as deep as I could get, and she felt it too, wriggling her ass at me as I fucked her – it was my turn, after all.
My mouth moved to her ear and tongued it briefly, drawing another moan. “OK, now it’s my turn – I’m going to cum and fill you up, and you’re going to cum with me. Understand?”
She gave a moaning yes, and I felt her squeezing me even harder, her cunt so wet now there was hardly any friction. I felt myself tipping over, and shouted out as I came, blasting my seed deep into her young womb, that glorious feeling cunt, spurt after spurt. And as she felt the shot of warmth, she tipped over and screamed out her orgasm into the bed, the comforter muffling her scream as I continued to pump my hot sticky seed into her. My spurting slowed and then stopped, and I stayed transfixed inside her as her body shook from her orgasm, which seemed even deeper than the first.
I stayed like that for a while, relishing the feeling of my cock inside her and feeling her aftershocks and my own twitches as I reacted to hers. She looked absolutely beautiful stretched out, her legs together with my cock planted deep in her, her arms like a diver stretched over her head, holding on to the headboard, her hair splayed out on the bed, her having swept the pillows aside. I finally moved, slipping out of her with a ‘thwop’ and then lying down next to her, brushing her hair away from her face.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi,” she said back softly.
“Hope you don’t have to be anywhere for a while . . . ”
“Nope. So this IS why you were so stiff . . . More!”
“Mmmmm . . . oh yes. You can count on that . . . ” I said, caressing her back and seeing her eyes close.
“Mmmmm . . . that feels so good . . . ”
“Just breathe and relax, Kristi . . . we have all night. And I am going to take you over and over.”
“Please yes . . . make me cum . . . ”
We both recovered from orgasm, her a little faster than me (the advantage of being younger!) and she started to caress me softly.
“Mmmmm . . . oh, that feels amazing,” I murmured, just loudly enough for her to hear.
“I’ve wanted to just do this to you every time I work on you,” she murmured back.
“Well, from now on, please do. It’s heavenly.”
She was now stroking and caressing my cock, which was rapidly coming back to life.
“Mmmmm . . . I think someone likes this,” she said, smiling as she saw and felt me get harder and harder in her hand as she continued to stroke and squeeze and caress it.
She drew a leg up and put it over me, then slid the rest of her body on top of mine, straddling me again, smiling. As she did, she moved the tip of my cock to the entrance to her pussy, slimy from her juices mixed with my cum. And she again lowered herself onto me, her lips opening as she settled on my cock, coming to rest with me buried to the hilt in her slippery velvet sheath. She took a deep breath and started to rock back and forth, and side to side, slowly at first but building up speed. I reached up and played with her tits, squeezing her nipples gently and then harder and harder as she rode my cock harder and harder, her breathing getting faster. It was heavenly feeling her ride me, squeezing me, feeling myself literally sloshing around in her oh-so-tight pussy.
And when she came it was her biggest orgasm so far, crying out as it took her over, her whole lean body shaking, her pussy tightening on me even harder. After a final shriek, she kind of collapsed on my chest, keeping my cock planted deep in her. For my part, I’d been building but had been so transfixed just watching her that I didn’t cum – which had the benefit of leaving me still hard. She seemed to have progressive orgasms – the kind that got more and more intense as she moved on.
Kristi stayed collapsed on my chest for a few minutes before rolling off to lie down next to me, her body still quivering occasionally from aftershocks. I think she was genuinely surprised at how intense it had been, because she curled up next to me, one of her legs over mine, an arm across my chest, her soft hair on my shoulder.
“W . . . w. . . wowow,” she managed, seeming dazed and taking some time to come out of it. My arm caressed her back, just to let her know I was still here.
“Ohmifuckinggod,” she was able to finally say, coming back more fully and looking me in the eye. “Dude, I have never cum so hard in my fucking life!”
“Ah, flattery will get you everywhere,” I murmured back. “You just needed someone with a little experience.” I grinned at her. “And you being so fucking sexy doesn’t hurt. I want to just tie you to the bed and fuck you all night.” I was a little surprised I said it – mostly because it was true.
Her eyes flared a little at that. “So do it,” she said softly.
“OK,” I said, slipping out from under her and starting to reach into my nightstand. I thought she’d watch, but closed her eyes, lay on her back, and reached her long arms up to the headboard. I’d gotten the headboard a long time ago because I liked Mission furniture. And, as it turns, out, it’s perfect for this kind of thing. I debated which restraint to pull out, eyeing the stainless steel handcuffs longingly but knew she’d end up with marks on her wrists, which could be awkward for her at work. I pulled out a pair of synthetic fur lined leather restraints instead, and worked them around a couple of the vertical slats in the headboard, then reaching for her wrists and slipping them in, tightening them moderately. If she were truly desperate she could probably get out of them, but if she were I’d have released her long before. She quivered a little as she felt them snug around her wrists, and tugged at them experimentally.
I didn’t bother asking her if they felt OK – I knew she’d say something if they weren’t. And so I paused to admire the view, and then moved back between her legs, lifted her legs to my shoulders, and just slammed myself into her, drawing a brief shriek as my balls slapped against her as I buried myself in her glistening snatch. Out, and than slam back in, over and over, her eyes closed as I fucked her, watching her try to wriggle her wrists out but unable to, thrashing her body around me, overwhelmed with sensation.
She started to shake from deep within, and I could feel her orgasm building, building, building, as I kept fucking her as hard as I could, our bodies merged, her tits swaying, mouth opening and closing as I pounded her. She had one of the most powerful orgasms I’ve ever seen, arching her back, screaming – yep, screaming – as her orgasm consumed her. I felt her beautiful cunt violently spasming on me, and felt her flood my cock with her juices. And just as I felt that, a fountain erupted from her, spraying my groin, landing on her tummy, and then another fountain, and another. I held her legs tight against me as she came, keeping my cock buried all the way inside her, and felt her come down, sweat pouring from her face and body, her skin glistening, her hair now matted with sweat.
She’d stopped her screaming, and now was almost whimpering with pleasure as aftershock on aftershock washed over her, finally tapering off and leaving her a wet noodle – completely spent. I lowered her legs, and was able to reach up to undo her wrists, watching her shake them out. I lay down next to her, feeling her skin on mine, and put an arm over her. I kissed her gently, and felt her gathering herself.
“W . . . w. . . wow . . . ” was all she could manage.
“Just relax . . . that looked like one gigantic orgasm,” I said, kissing the side of her cheek and neck.
“Uhhhhnnnnn . . . fuck yeah,” she managed to say, as her breathing normalized and she started to snap back more.
We lay like that for a while, and I finally asked if she’d liked being tied down and fucked.
“Ohmygod yeah . . . I could not BELIEVE how much that turned me – I probably would have cum just trying to fight my way out. And feeling you fuck me so hard – fuck. Unbelievable.”
“Done it before?”
She was now as back to normal as she could be after an orgasm that huge. “Tried it with an ex. It was fun, but nothing like this.” She seemed to finally feel the soaked sheet we were lying on. “Oh, shit – did I . . . ”
“Three times. Sexy as fuck.”
Her eyes widened, and she gave a shy smile. “You sure it was three? Never done more than one.”
“Pretty sure – I got to watch.”
She blushed slightly. “Sorry about your sheets . . . ”
“Don’t be. I’ve got more. And a washing machine.”
She actually laughed – albeit weakly. “Yep, I have one too . . . OK, do you have another set of sheets handy?”
I chuckled. “Of course.” I got up and retrieved a set from the linen closet. “The bad part is that you have to move.”
She lolled for a moment. “If I can . . . ” And then got up, shakily enough that she grabbed on to me for support and leaned against me. “Mmmmmm. You feel so good.”
I stripped the sheets and the mattress pad off and put the new ones on. I lay her back down on the bed, kissed her softly, and said “Be right back – going to put these in the washer.”
She nodded weakly. “I’ll be here . . . ”
“Good. Don’t move – or I might have to tie you down again.”
She actually chuckled. “Oh, promises, promises . . . ”
I put the sheets in the wash and went back to the bed. She was on her back, proud breasts jutting out, softly snoring. I laughed to myself, and lay myself down next to her, putting an arm around her and holding her softly. Wow. I’d just fucked a gorgeous 28 year old senseless – wasn’t it supposed to the other way around? And she was definitely open to a range of experiences, going by her excitement about being tied down. On the other hand, she was 20 years younger than me, which was great fun, but . . . could it go anywhere? And I was surprised at myself for even thinking it. The only woman I knew who actually could go somewhere relationship-wise was Terri – single, similar age, etc. And if Lauren were single – but then, if my aunt had balls she’d be my uncle, as the old Army saying went.
Well, I figured I’d run with it until I couldn’t – for whatever reason. And I dozed off next to her, my hand on one of her breasts.
I woke to sunlight – apparently we had both been tired! – and to the exquisite sensation of her tongue and mouth on my cock, which had apparently sprouted its normal morning painful erection – or normal when I’d spent the night with someone. She saw me wake up and her eyes smiled at me as she sucked. I smiled back and surrendered for a while, knowing that oral was about the least likely way for me to cum. Except, perhaps, with her – as she continued, I could feel myself get closer and closer.
She could tell, because she’d come off my cock just long enough to tell me she wanted my cum, to feel me spurting into her mouth. It didn’t take long for that to work, much to my surprise. And while it wasn’t like she needed a warning – she could tell – I couldn’t have given her one. She took me completely in, and I felt my cock in her throat for real, no gag, and felt myself letting go, starting to cry out as my body orgasmed, cum erupting into her mouth as she held me in her mouth and throat, spurt after spurt, surprising me with how hard she was making me orgasm with her mouth. I felt her swallow once, and continue to hold me in as her tongue lapped me, mouth sucking on me to get every last drop, then coming off my cock and opening her mouth, showing me her mouthful of my seed, making a show of closing her lips and swallowing.
Holy shit that was hot. And once she was done with her show, she took me back in her mouth and tongued and sucked me to get every last drop she could. She moved her way up to my ear and whispered, “I’ve wanted to do that from the first time you came to the spa.”
It was my turn to be tongue-tied, finally managing “Now you can,” earning a laugh from her.
“Well, not at work . . . but here or at my place, yes . . . ” Her mouth had a powerful scent of my cum, and she leaned over to kiss me hard to share. It was actually more of a turn-on than I expected it would be, and I could feel myself trying to stir again.
We managed one more round, this one ending with me fountaining into her young womb again, sending millions more sperm in search of that one thing, and feeling her orgasm hard again as she felt my warmth inside her. Once we recovered, she glanced at the clock and sighed.
“Damn. I have to get going soon.”
“Yeah, me too – I should try to do some work today.”
“Mmmmm . . . I’m going to be thinking and feeling this all day. Next week?”
“You bet – Monday again?” She nodded.
“You’re on!”
We dug around for clothes, her not bothering with he sports bra, those marvelous tits poking through her t-shirt. She carried her bra with her, giving it a “I hate this thing” look that made me laugh.
“What?”
“You just gave your sports bra a look like ‘I hate you.”
She laughed. “Yeah, it’s a drag wearing one, but it’s better than flopping around in a looser bra and my nips getting irritated. So I ditch them as soon as I get home and just do a soft cotton t-shirt or something like that. My roommate does the same thing.”
“Makes sense. I obviously don’t have that to think about.”
“And it gets old hearing comments and whistles and shit from guys when I’m not wearing one.”
“Yep, I can believe that.”
She leaned for one last kiss. “OK, gotta get going! Thanks – see you Monday!”
And with that, she was out the door and waving at me as she drove away.
Whew! It looked like I was going to have an ongoing sex date Monday and Wednesday – that was going to be interesting. Of course, I was reading into Kristi and next Monday, but it seemed like it’d go that way. Thinking about Kristi I made a note to ask her if she was on any kind of protection – I had pumped hundreds of millions of sperm into her, and wasn’t ready to start over being a parent. Oops! Then again, she hadn’t shown the slightest worry. I’d find out . . .