Innocent Dinner

I knew, from the very beginning, that it was a dangerous idea.

He wanted to come over, so I could teach him to cook a few things. We'd had the plan for weeks, but then unexpectedly, my husband had to go out of town.

He came over anyways.

It started off innocent. We cooked a delicious meal, and ate, and hung out. We sat together on the back patio, drinking wine and smoking cigarettes, and just talking. It was nice, intimate in a way I hadn't been with my husband in a long time. Constant proximity always changes things, makes them more mundane. But being with him was like starting again, with all the fire and passion that I remember from the long ago time when my husband and I first started dating.

I meant to keep it innocent. I couldn't.

He said he had to get going, and we went into the house. He considerately rinsed his wineglass, setting it in the sink. We walked to the door, hugged goodbye, and I couldn't let go.

Instead of opening the door and ushering him out, I pressed him up against it. At the same time, he said, "We probably shouldn't be here."

In response, I raised my chin and kissed him softly. It was gentle and sweet. He tried to pull back at first, protesting, "No, we can't. What about N___?" referring to my husband.

I put one hand behind his head, pulling him back in slowly, and said, "That's not your problem. It's mine." He hesitated, but when his lips got back to mine, they kissed back with all the tenderness I had given him. I felt my pussy begin to tingle in anticipation.

The tender kiss broke, with all the suddenness of a thunder crash, into a deep, passionate tongue war. His strong arms held me close, and I could feel every hour he spent at the gym. My husband was always wiry, couldn't gain weight if he wanted to, but this man was strong, muscular, fit. His body was hard and his dick was getting even harder. I could feel him against me as he kissed me.

After a few minutes, I broke away, beckoning him on to my bedroom, to the bed I shared with the only man I had loved or made love to for ten years. I was wet and eager, ready to jump right into it, but he was too sweet to go so fast. I got on the bed, and he carefully pulled off his shirt, revealing his tanned, powerfully built frame. I could have spent the night just looking at him.

He climbed up next to me, running his hand down the back of my head, through my hair, pulling my lips to his briefly. Then he trailed his fingers down to the hem of my t-shirt, and softly, delicately pulled it up over my head, his hands running along my sides. I shivered as he touched me, wanting him inside me right then and there.

But slowly, slowly, he reached behind me and unhooked my bra. My 36Ds tumbled out, large but perky, pert nipples upright and waiting. Each nipple was pierced with a simple ring, and he smiled with delight at seeing them. "I thought you were the type," he murmured, fingering one ring gently with one hand. I moaned softly as he pulled on it, teasing it, while with his other hand he reached up and tilted my head up to his. I kissed him relentlessly, hoping to speed up, but still he resisted, smiling, as he laid me down on the bed.

He leaned over me briefly, giving me a quick kiss, then slid downwards, unbuttoning and pulling off my jeans and panties. He put one hand between my legs, felt my wetness, and slid an experimental finger inside me. I jerked my hips upward slightly, letting him know I was ready for more. Without removing his finger, he dropped his head down and gave my clit a quick lick, watching for my reaction. I groaned, my lips pulsing around his finger, eyes begging him for more. He smiled again, and went to work.

His tongue darting across my clit, he slid his finger out and in, adding two more fingers as he went, curving them up to my G-spot. Almost involuntarily, my hips rose to meet him. I moaned over and over, unable to be silent, as he finger-fucked me toward climax. He reached his other hand up and played at my nipples, pinching, tugging, and twisting the rings. As his tongue grew more insistent, my hips rose more urgently, until I couldn't stand it anymore, and came powerfully against his fingers and mouth.

He rose back up toward my face, smiling, licking my juices off his hand. "I want you, now," I said, turning him over onto his back and climbing atop him. I pressed my breasts to him and kissed him, grinding my wet pussy on his jeans, feeling his cock straining against the zipper. He kissed me back, this time reflecting my urgency, arms wrapped around me.

I tore myself away, reached down, and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. I fumbled his dick out and shoved myself down onto it. It was big, at least 8 inches, thick, and I could feel it immediately filling me up. I rocked softly side to side, taking in as much of him as I could, watching his face fill with pleasure as I pushed him into me.

I began to fuck him, hard, with no soft gentle beginning. I ground against him, my clit rubbing hard on him, as he grabbed at my big tits. He got one, and immediately pulled the nipple into his mouth and sucked, hard, flicking the ring back and forth with his tongue, while I fucked fast and hard, feeling the sensation welling up in my clit, threatening a second orgasm.

Before I could get there, though, he put an arm around my waist and flipped me to my back, pushed my knees up to my ears, and drove hard into me. I gasped with pleasure, letting him fill me over and over. I could sense him getting close to orgasm, but just as he was reaching it, he reached one hand down and pressed hard on my clit, taking me over the edge to my own climax. We came together, moans of pleasure filling the room, his finger rubbing hard on my bud, dick deep inside me.

Afterwards, he pulled out right away, collapsing down onto his back next to me. I looked over, almost surprised to see this sexy, built man where my husband was supposed to be. After a moment he turned his head and looked at me, smiling coyly.

"Want to go again?"