1.
The last time Kat had gotten fucked was by her husband Richard in their kitchen.
They'd been out to dinner at the upscale Vietnamese restaurant downtown. They started with spicy martinis at the bar, where Kat let Richard see that she wasn't wearing any underwear. That always got him going, even when things weren't going that well between them, which they weren't back then. He slid his hand up her leg and felt her wet pussylips.
"Mmmmmm," he said as he took a sip of his drink.
She put a hand on the hard-on in his jeans and smiled at him enigmatically.
They got a corner table and Richard spent much of the meal caressing her thigh, and diddling her pussy. It was distracting but pleasant, better than arguing about the past, present, or future, or angsting over the kids.
On the ride home, as he drove, she leaned over, unzipped his pants, and sucked his dick. He loved getting a blowjob while driving. She loved giving one, too, truth be told.
Alas, she no longer loved Richard. But she still loved his dick. He arched his ass off the driver's seat so she could reach under his balls and rub his perineum, which drove him crazy. He could have easily come but they were getting close to home. She squeezed the base of his cock and balls and zipped him back up as they turned into their subdivision.
Richard pressed against her as she fumbled for the front door key. With one hand, he fondled her tits. With the other he reached up the back of her dress and stuck a finger in her pussy, finger fucking her from behind. She moaned and leaned against the door.
As soon as they entered the house and the front door closed behind them, Richard pushed her firmly to lean over the counter, pulled her dress up over her back, stuck his dick abruptly into her wet pussy, and fucked her hard and fast. She liked knowing he wanted her, which he rarely did anymore. She also liked getting fucked, pure and simple, which didn't happen as often anymore either.
His dick filled her up. His groin banged against her ass. And she could feel his balls slapping against her pussy. When he reached between her legs to frig her clitoris, it sent her over the edge and her upper body collapsed on the countertop.
Richard picked her up, turned her around and had her lie back on the counter. He raised her legs up in the air, on to his shoulders, and pushed his dick in past her engorged pussylips again. He liked watching himself fuck her. She liked watching him watching himself fuck her. He held her two legs together straight in the air. This had the effect of tightening her pussy and making it easier for his cock to go even deeper as he pushed her legs back over her head. It felt like he was banging on her cervix. He was really fucking her now. This wasn't making love like they used to. This was fucking pure and simple. And she loved it.
He stiffened suddenly and grunted, and she felt his cock twitch deep in her, and the surge of warm semen flood her pussy.
Richard pulled out and kissed her primly.
"Well, that was a fine evening," he said. "Let's do it again sometime."
But they never did. They had agreed to separate and in due time divorce. He still had a room in the house, at least until the twins left for college in the summer. And this friends with benefits arrangement was working OK. They had agreed they would tell each other if they got involved with anyone else and it would be OK.
A week later he told her he had.
2.
It had been a long, lonely fall and winter after that, and then the twins went away to school, and she was alone in the house, and, what did they call it? Oh, yeah, an "incel," an involuntary celibate.
One of her good friends, who was bisexual, tried to convince her to give women a try. She did, once, but it was not entirely satisfactory. Too much pussy. And truth be told, she didn't really care much about pussy, except her own, of course.
She missed dick.
As spring turned to summer and she looked at the clothes in her closet, she flipped through the summer dresses on hangars, and thought about wearing nothing under them, and how much it turned Richard on, and turned her on, too. So she started wearing them around the house again and outside on the patio by the pool. It felt good.
She bought a dildo online with a suction cup. She ordered one that she thought was about Richard's size. His dick was still her ideal. At about seven inches, she estimated, above average in length and girth, cut and nicely curved.
She fucked herself in the shower, and then standing up in the kitchen with her summer dress hiked up, and then by the pool, straddling a bench and riding it. Whenever she got horny just thinking about dick, she went and got the dildo, stuck it to something, closed her eyes, and got fucked. At first, she thought about Richard, but after a while she started thinking about someone, anyone, and then many different men.
Then she realized that what had turned Richard on might work with other men. She wondered why it had taken her so long to have had the thought. Maybe she was too stuck on the idea that love came first, then lust. She wanted love, again, eventually, if she found the right man. She had a fine social life and friends. And she liked hanging out with guys, as well as her girlfriends. So maybe that would happen naturally.
But she hadn't dated for decades. And she had never fucked another man while she and Richard were together, though she'd been tempted by a few, and gotten quite close a couple of times until she was overcome with fear and guilt. When she and Richard first got together, she was with another guy and screwing him, too, until he caught Richard and her in their bed when he came home early from a trip. That relationship was quickly over. And she had been happy with Richard for many years.
She pulled the simple black A-line dress she'd been wearing when Richard last fucked her off the hangar and put it on. She turned to the mirror on the closet door. It actually looked better on her now, she thought, since she'd been working out, eating better, and drinking less since the divorce. She hiked up the hem and put her leg up on a shelf and looked at herself exposed. Her pussy was a little unruly. She went to find some scissors and came back and trimmed her pubic hair until she could clearly see her labia peeking out from the fringe. Then she brought a chair before the mirror, stuck the dildo to it, and lowered herself on to it, with her skirt raised, so she could see herself getting fucked.
She liked that look.
3.
The next evening she went back to the Vietnamese restaurant in the black A-line dress. She ordered a spicy martini and drank it quickly to steel her nerves. Then she went to the bathroom, took off her panties, and put them in her handbag. She was going to do it. She had to try.
When she came back to the bar, an attractive young Indian man in a suit and tie had occupied the empty seat next to her.
"Hello," he said.
"Hi," she replied with a smile.
"What are you having?" he asked, nodding toward her empty drink. "Was it good?"
"A spicy martini," she said. "And it is."
He motioned to the bartender. "Two spicy martinis, please."
"I'm Ram," he said, extending his hand.
"Nancy," she lied, taking his hand. "Nice to meet you. And thanks for the drink."
When the drinks arrived she swiveled around to face him and raised her glass. "Cheers!"
Her dress had hiked up her thighs as she had sat down. She felt the air on her pussy. Now she crossed her legs so that the hem fell even further up her legs.
Ram looked at her legs, and then up her body, and smiled. They chatted amiably. He was a software engineer, natch, just a few years out of grad school, with a Ph.D. in engineering. She was an English teacher. He loved English like only an Indian could. They both noticed that the other didn't wear any rings. They ordered some small plates at the bar and another round of drinks. She leaned toward him and touched his elbow or thigh from time to time as they animatedly discussed Romantic literature from around the British Empire.
Kat was pretty drunk by the end of the second martini, but they ordered another, and she was no longer sitting on the stool so prim and properly revealing just some leg. Her legs were akimbo and the hem of her dress rode up her thighs even higher as she leaned back against the bar at one point, and Ram looked guilty as he saw the blonde fringe of her pubic hair. But look he did.
Kat took his hand and put it on her thigh.
"Here's to the Romantics!" she said and downed the rest of her martini.
Ram signaled to the bartender, paid the bill, and took her arm.
"Where to, my lady?" he asked. "My carriage is out back."
They walked around the corner, the cool night air tickling her pussy, her arm in his. He looked pleased as punch if a little nervous. He probably didn't get laid too often either, she thought.
The parking garage was deserted. His Tesla Model S was one of just a few cars left on the top floor. He opened the door for her, and as she went to sit, she fell back into the bucket seat, with her legs spread and her dress open. She laughed. He stared down at her flower of a pussy, puffy labia fringed with wisps of blonde hair. She raised her knees, letting the dress fall even lower, and opened her legs further.
She reached up and grabbed his tie and pulled her to him. It was all over pretty fast. He fell on top of her. She struggled briefly with his belt buckle and zipper, but freed his dick and he was inside her without further ado. His dick wasn't very long and it felt kind of skinny. It slipped in easily. He looked surprised as he looked down at her, looking lusty as she pulled his hips into her and wrapped her legs around him. He thrust into her, gasped, and came immediately.
"I'm so sorry," he said, looking crestfallen.
"It's OK. No worries. That was fun," she replied, as she felt him slip out of her.
"Can I take you home?" he asked.
"No. That's OK," she said, as she stood and straightened her dress.
She kissed him quickly on the cheek and weaved just a little as she walked away, pulled out her phone, called for an Uber, and made her way quickly back to the street.
