The following is fiction, intended to entertain. If it doesn't, by all means erase, exit or otherwise eliminate it from your life, as is your right. If I offend or disturb you in anyway I am sorry, for that is not my intention. If by chance, I make you smile, or maybe stir in your seat, well, you'll be getting a touch of what I felt while writing this story. And that's exactly why I wrote it. Thank you sincerely, for your precious time.
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The woman was insatiable! Facing me in my lap, she arched her back and hips to settle as far as was physically possible onto my horny dick, forcing her loins onto mine and sucking me into her as if she'd die without me buried up to her throat. If that wasn't enough, she had her heels behind and against my butt, pulling me deeper into her. The combination brought her body down and around my cock like a hungry animal, devouring me whole.
"More, damnit!" She gushed, driving faster and harder as if to suck the rest of me inside her. "Fuck me damnit! Here! Suck on these! Bite me!" She shoved one of her gorgeous tits in my face and got no argument from me. I vacuumed in the massive mammary, thinking just an inch more and I could swallow the fleshy thing. Soon her nipple was scrapping the back of my throat and my mouth was full of breast.
"Yeah! Take it! Come on! Bite it!" She accented every command with another thrust of her hips and I was beginning to wonder if I was going to make it.
Her hair was reddish brown, short, and soft. It was natural colored for it matched her eyebrows, and the small "V" patch of hair currently plastered and wet up against my abdomen. She had applied lipstick to match, but that was long since gone, wiped away by the contact of our hungry mouths. Her extremely white skin beckoned my touch and accentuated as perfect a body as any man could ask for.
"Oh God!" She shouted.
Finally! I thought! She was going to cum. I really needed the break. I gave my sperm engine some free rein and started my flight with her. Humping my ass up in vain managed little more than a near painful mashing of our pubic bones.
"Oh God YES! Fuck me" She squealed in delight as the first wave of lustful inebriation washed over her and flowed over to me. I fucked her back, erupting with my first ejaculation, and that just triggered another, larger convulsion from her. Completing the circle, she fired back with a gush of hot liquid, some of which escaped around my shaft and dribbled down on my balls.
Soon her liquid mixed with mine and the messy goo that seeped free became hot and sticky on my groin, dripping all the way down my crack. We bucked and fucked for several more cycles of fluid exchange and put every ounce of energy into it. Perhaps another minute went by, fucking, sucking and spurting through it all, before we finally sighed in unison and sank down into the mattress together.
"Oh, my God. Oh my God." She fell into me and let me have the responsibility of holding us up. "Why can't it be like this at home?"
There could be no question of what had taken place, beyond the obvious I mean. She had used me, or my body, to satisfy a longstanding need, a need for release in the worst way, a need that was previously frustrated beyond acceptable limits. I used her the same way, of course, and both of us were reveling in the aftermath of a fantasy finally realized.
We met months before in a chat room, "Married and looking," with her PM'ing me. I have found that women are so hammered by male PM'ers it seldom works as a way to greet and meet. They simply cannot handle all the many influences at once. The best, and most lasting contacts I have had in chat were initiated by women. But none of them had turned out anything like this.
"Hi," Was her simple greeting at the time.
"Hi urself," Was my brilliant retort. There was nothing further for a minute while we each looked up each other's profiles. She was thirty-eight and married with two kids and living near Boston. I was married, a few years older, and with one in high school and the other ready to go there. We had both been frank about our marital status, not caring to hide we were frustrated with spousal arousal. "Married and Looking" was why we were there. We shared those frustrations for an hour on that first chatting occasion, discovering an astounding number of similarities, but aren't most "married and looking's" the same?
We talked several times after that, each feeling our way around the other, and the new medium for making it easier to cheat. It was agreed that our spousal relationships had drifted apart, concerned with careers or kids or both, and we each admitted that maybe we were the ones drifting, not our spouses. The frankness and openness was erotic in its own way, but the fantasies we shared were down right bodacious.
On the surface, we were both frustrated with the infrequency of sex. Neither of us had yet strayed, but we were both ready and willing. The worst case scenario was being discovered, agreeing with our spouse to last until our kids left home, and then splitting up. Given the level of yearning, it seemed a lot easier to talk about than to live out. At some point during the chats, we seemed to venture into territory so familiar, we agreed to meet.
Great pains were taken to ensure each party had a simple and un-hurtful way to back out of the first encounter with no recriminations. We finally felt comfortable with our plans and took the plunge at a Denny's outside Framingham, far enough from the city to not be recognized. It was also a neutral place we could part from at anytime and end the experiment, no questions asked.
The Denny's portion of our clandestine acquaintance lasted all of fifteen minutes. There was an awkward couple of minutes at the start, but we got through the surprise and pushed forward in our roles. She was drop dead gorgeous by my terms, a pretty face, wide shoulders and no wisp of a girl. She must have felt similarly about me for we hardly finished a cup of coffee when she said, "We need to go to the next step."
I paid the bill and we moved our "married but looking" encounter to the hotel room I had standing by. Some frantic disrobing and an embrace that lasted long minutes ensued and that's how we got to where we are, spent, satisfied, perhaps each a bit guilty, but both smiling more broadly than either of us had in a long time.
"You feel sooo good inside me." Her words were almost as sexy as her tone. She was drop dead HOT! Her breasts were full, a "D" cup easily, but so firm! And there were no scars, they were real.
"I sure do!" I said, stealing her meaning for my use as well. We hugged tightly and savored the moment. Her pussy was wrapped firmly around my shaft, and I could feel her playing with it, contracting her muscles and then letting them go. I swear, if we weren't so wrapped up in the newness of this meeting I would have suggested she try to get us off that way, a process I could amply assist with pulses of my pole.
