A few years ago, coming out of my divorce, I found myself hooked on multiple commitments. If having one woman in love with you was good, how about having two or three or more in love with you? Of course, the answer is that just as the pleasure is multiplied, so is the pain. I would experience the "pain" side of things time and again later that summer, but one Fourth of July weekend I would experience the pleasure, with a perfect alignment of sorts.
Thursday Night: My current lover, we'll call her Contessa, was over at my house the night before, on the 3rd. A tiny, curvaceous dark-haired Mediterranean beauty in her mid-30's, she had small breasts and a round, firm, fuckable ass. We went to bed at the usual hour, but before we fell asleep, my excitement got the better of my and, reaching over, I felt her ass and pulled her towards me. She pushed back against my rapidly hardening cock. My right hand came around her right hip, slowly moving down into her black, see-through panties, pushing them down until I found her dripping, wet pussy. My left hand came up around her neck, pulling her into me, as my right hand pulled down her panties. She helped me, kicking off her panties.
We rolled onto our stomachs and my legs parted hers. With little foreplay, I entered Contessa from behind, my cock splitting her pussy into as I breathed in her sweet, soft dark mane. Quite expressive, Contessa purred with appreciation as I entered, lifting her hips up off the bed to match my thrusts. I held her down as I pumped her, completely enveloping her petite frame, all the while thinking about tomorrow's planned activities, and when I couldn't take any more. I exploded inside of her.
My cock still inside of Contessa , we fell asleep. I knew that sharing my precious bodily fluids might sap some of my strength on Friday, but the sexual energy was high
Friday morning β No. 1: We awoke at roughly the same time. Eschewing morning ablutions, we lay in bed for awhile. At length, Contessa rolled onto me and passionately kissed me. Her legs enveloped mine and she slid onto my cock, riding herself to orgasm. After a few post-coital minutes, Contessa got up and made coffee. I gathered that she had planned on spending the day with me, but I had other plans. Contessa grudgingly complied. We showered and parted ways.
It was a beautiful, sunny morning, and I had some time to kill. I cleaned the house and tidied up in by bedroom. I did not change my sheets. At 11:30, I headed off to the airport, my ex-wife, we'll call her Claire, was flying in for the weekend. A little taller than Contessa, Claire was Cuban, with a curvy body, dark hair and coal black eyes. In her late 30's, 5'4", Claire was a study in contrasts, sometimes frumpy and sometimes ditzy, she could sparkle when necessary and was very bright and cunning. Her innocence and wholesomeness belied the fact that she was a horney size-queen with a deep, abiding love of cock, all cock, anytime, anywhere. The bigger the better, but while she preferred a big, thick cock, she rarely said no to any cock that she liked.
No. 2: I was late. Pulling into the discount airline's lane for arrivals, I saw Claire waving to me. She was wearing hip hugger slacks and a silk multicolored, long-sleeved blouse and sunglasses. I pulled up and unlocked the doors. She opened the back doors and threw her overnight bag in the back and then climbed into the front seat. We greeted each other with a long hug and plenty of deep kisses. I noticed that her blouse was opened to expose her ample breasts and I could smell her perspiration and perfume. My hands explored her body, nonverbally cuing her to my continued interest in her. We were no longer together; I no longer possessed her. Still, the passion continued unabated.
I pulled out of the lane and, headed toward the on-ramp to the toll-road; I reached over and unbuttoned her slacks to expose her semi-transparent, multicolored panties, and unbuttoned the rest of her blouse. She was no longer my wife. I didn't care who saw her, I cared only that she was going to suck and fuck me hard and often. Having long since gotten over the pain and humiliation of the slow-motion wreck that had been the end of our marriage, I objectified her as nothing more than a hot and willing piece of ass. What her views were, I no longer cared.