Sara and 'the Man'

This chapter will be much more meaningful if Chapter one has been read first.

*****

Sara Bastin had been married to her husband Gordon for just over two years, yet their marriage had never been fully consummated. That particular morning, as she watched him picking up his brief case, she knew, and hoped, that her day was going to be the kind of day, she'd been experiencing for nearly two months.

Dressed only in a silken gown which she had thrown on over her naked body in order to prepare breakfast, she stood near the front door awaiting his standard farewell kiss. He approached her now, on his way out to his lucrative financial business in the city.

He bent and kissed her chastely on the lips, before asking his standard question, "Any plans for today?"

"Not really. Maybe a trip into the city later. Maybe not."

Gordon closed the front door behind him. Sara heard his Jaguar starting up, and driving away along the imposing drive, towards the main gates, and once again the thought struck her that the house was much too big for just two people. She moved to adjust the latch on the door. The first tremors of excitement started inside her, as she mounted the large wide staircase.

Wondering what she should wear, she hurried to her room, and picked out the yellow dress that she knew the man enjoyed, because it had large button holes that facilitated easy removal. Then it was gown off and the dress on, no panties and no bra. She knew exactly what he would do, and the thought had her moistening.

Going back downstairs, she heard the sound of a car approaching and being driven around the side of the house so it was not in full view. The car door slammed, and she moved nearer to the porch, her breath quickening. His so familiar knock sounded, two slow strikes and then three quick...

"Just push," she called, and licked her lips, as the door swung back. And there he was, the man, raging masculinity, dressed in jeans and red checked shirt with sleeves rolled up tight over muscular arms. His eyes had already removed her dress before he'd even touched her.

First he asked the standard question, "What time will your husband be back?" Then as he moved slowly towards her, he asked, "Are you wet?"

"I am," she sighed, but turning away, she called, "but I don't want any today, thank you." Laughing, she dashed towards the stairs, and had reached the third step when she felt his hand snatch at her dress. As she kept trying to run, the man pulled and, as expected, the buttons popped loose

Shrugging herself out of the dress, Sara reached the top of the stairs, turned to see him striding up, a lascivious smile on his face, and the dress still clutched in his hand. She stood there, naked, legs wide apart, arms thrown out, "See anything you would like?" she challenged.

He had increased his pace, "I'm going to get a mouthful of that pie," the man growled, and Sara laughed and turned to hurry away. This particular game was occasionally a feature of their meetings, but today she had misjudged his pace. As she began to run, his hand closed on her ankle and she stumbled onto the deep pile carpet.

One twist of his hands had Sara over onto her back, and the man was above her, his face a mask of lust, "Right here, or on a bed?" he asked huskily.

"Oh, I'm getting a choice today, am I?" She loved this, the way she never knew which way things would work out from meeting to meeting.

His expression did not change, as one hand played over her breast, while the one that had held her ankle had slid right up her leg to finger her crevice. "Only a choice of location. Not of method."

Already trembling at what his hands were doing, she hissed, "Bed, oh yes, bed."

Without further ado, he swept her up in his arms, and holding her as though she was a doll he said, "Which one?"

"The nearest, the nearest," she gasped, unable to keep the desperation out of her voice. She was longing to feel him ramming up inside her.

The man carried her to the nearest door, pushed it open, and took her to the bed. It was what would have been a guest bedroom, similar to four others, with a wide window, white furnishings, a Queen size bed, and en- suite.

Sara found herself being carefully laid down on the bed, surprised that her buttocks were so near the edge with her feet just touching the floor. The man had grabbed a pillow which he tucked under the small of her back to raise her slightly.

She was only puzzled for a few seconds, as the man knelt and buried his face into her wetness. "I don't need-"she started to gasp, but knew he would already have guessed she didn't need much stimulation. But stimulation was what he was delivering, as his tongue explored the length of her wetness, drilled teasingly at her entry, before slithering, slowly yet slickly towards her clitoris.

As if that wasn't driving her to the very edge, his fingers were also playing their part. His right hand had reached up to stroke her breasts, the fingers there playing a tune on her nipples. But his left hand threatened to be the one to do the damage. His fingers were trailing wherever his tongue did not touch. At that moment, while his tongue licked at her clitoris, his finger traced around the rim of her vaginal entry.

Sara's hips rose to meet his mouth, her nerve ends tingled and she had to tell him that she wasn't going to be able to hold back. But her breathing was so difficult that she couldn't mouth the words. It was the fingers tickling her nipples. No, it was his tongue teasing at her clitoris. Oh, God , it was everything about him.

But then, without warning, she was falling into that sublime realm of climax that she could hardly believe, as one of his fingers entered her vagina, while another pushed one inch into her anus. Both orifices begged for more, but Sara was no longer aware of anything, her mind was lost in the explosion that shook through her body.

Vaguely she was aware of the man gripping her trembling thighs and pushing her further back onto the bed. Through a fog she saw him pushing his pants down, and that gorgeous steel rod that had brought her so much pleasure was moving up between her thighs.

Sara closed her eyes. He was going to be too late. Her orgasm had happened. Then his lips sought hers, and she accepted the kiss gladly, tasting herself, which was not a new experience. At the same moment his so solid penis glided deeply up into her vagina, going up and up until his pubes were pressed to hers. Then it was slowly drawing back, leaving that empty feeling, but immediately the upward plunge came back.

As he rode back and forth inside her, Sara had begun to enjoy the kiss, knowing they could only be waiting for him to shoot his cream into her. How could she be so wet, so sated, yet his penis still felt so immense inside her, and she was aware of every inch of it along her vaginal walls? Determinedly, she had her muscles pull at his superb rod, but it just kept riding up into her.

Under his lips he must have been aware of her own lips trembling, or maybe he felt her hips beginning to rise and fall in tune with each of his lengthy thrusts up into her. Oh, she knew what he was trying to do. He had done this more than once, making her cum a second time, but she wouldn't fall for it this time, would she?

Her whole lower body was beginning to open out. It didn't matter what she was trying to do, she was totally helpless under the onslaught of this steely shaft. Up and up, slowly down. Ah, he'd gone, hadn't he? But the next minute like some express train riding a tunnel, it was flaring up into her again.

Her spasms were starting. My God, he had got her again. Her hips thrust up at him as she flung her legs up and around him. Her head began to toss so that the kiss was broken. She knew she had lost another battle. But losing this battle was like the most joyous victory, as once again her whole being throbbed. Her hands clutched at his muscular buttocks pulling him onto her, further into her. Was that possible? Could he really get any deeper into her?

Then she heard the gasping screams that she knew could only be coming from her. He had taken her over the edge again. As that realisation hit her, the man grunted audibly, and she knew he was delivering his own final thrusts. That joint arrival was fantastic, the head of his penis struck against her cervix as his sporadic jerks told her he was finally spouting his stuff up into the very heart of her. His pleasure was her joy, and at the height of her passion, she knew she would want to repay him for what he had just given her.

They lay still for a long time, recovering their breaths, recovering their senses. "Good?" he asked at last.

"Better than that." This was always her stock answer to that question.

After a further spell, he said, "I'm sorry I can't stay the full day. I have a must-be-at meeting this afternoon."

"I'm sorry you can't be here forever to play our games."

He laughed, "Playing our games like that, we'd both be dead in three days."

Sara laughed with him, and then suggested they shower.

The shower cubicle was just big enough for them to stand in together under the streams of warm water. Standing there skin against skin was good enough, but when it came to the soaping it moved onto a higher plain. His hands slid over her breasts with such gentility, having them stroking over her belly was a delight, but when his hands moved over her bush and between her thighs it was as though there had been no earlier sensuous session, and she wanted it all again.

She started on him by soaping his back with wide, open-handed strokes. His sturdy buttocks were so firm and yet so smooth, and she even managed to let her fingers slither into his crack which made him jerk.

Then she was onto his front and his broad shoulders and chest, and on down to his limp penis, which even in that state seemed considerable. Of course, the moment she began running soapy fingers over and around it, as well as shuffling suds over his scrotum, there was an instant reaction. "Phoenix is rising", she laughed.

They dried and had soon returned to the bedroom. "Lie flat on your back," Sara ordered, and as the man gave her a questioning look, she added, "You have a problem that needs seeing to."

Obediently he lay back, and Sara kneeled alongside him, taking his semi erect penis into her hands. Very gently she caressed it, running her fingertips over the purple head, and along the full length. She fondled his scrotum, feeling each of his balls separately. It only took a short length of time before his erection was back to its steely best.

Sara bent her mouth towards the man's hefty tool. Once upon a time, she had been pretty sure she would hate doing this to any man, but she had found that under the influence of sexual excitation, it was a logical reprise of any pleasures received.

Her tongue licked around the smooth head, treating it like a lollipop for just a moment or two. Then she licked her way down the full length, stopping off at the man's scrotum, where her lips played over the rippled skin, before she took each of his balls into her mouth and sucked gently. It was a delight for her to fell his stomach muscles tense at that, and hear his little grunt of pleasure.

Sara trawled her tongue along the great vein on the underside of his penis, and thought about the challenge ahead. She had already had many examples of how controlled he could be. Past sessions with him had educated her into the best way of getting him to gift his sperm into her throat.

She held his penis up, opened her mouth, and leaned forward so that about two inches lay on her tongue. Then she lifted the penis off her tongue, which she then waggled to tease the underside, before placing it back, and closing her lips around it. Slowly, very slowly, she moved her mouth along his rod, so she could feel the head sliding along her tongue, until her lips were pressed against his pubic hair, and the tip of his prick was all but going down her throat, just short of gagging point.

All the while, she had learned to listen for responses from the man. Even at this early stage he was breathing quite heavily, and one of his hands had rested on the back of her head. As she drew back she wriggled her tongue under it, and knew, from the tension of his belly that the movement had an effect. Sometimes she did wonder if, for a man, there were times when a woman's mouth had greater powers of persuasion, than her vagina.

Now Sara began a steady forward and back motion with her mouth, which the man acknowledged by the weight of his hand on the back of her head. On one or two back strokes she allowed her teeth to close tenderly around his rod, just enough to increase the sensation. After just a few strokes she deliberately added sucking to her forward strokes, her cheeks and tongue drawing at the steel rod, and there was no doubt that the man responded to that.

His hand on the back of her head, flattened and pulled, and a couple of times she heard him murmur something low in his throat. Sara increased the influences when she placed one hand under his scrotum, and squeezed gently.

So it was, push, suck, retract, lick, and all of it quicker and quicker. The man's hips began pushing his erection up towards her. His breathing was much more frantic, and Sara knew for certain that very soon he would be flooding her throat..

It was strange how she longed for that moment. There was no real physical thrill in it, but she knew well that sense of power it gave her. In this case, the man might be good at sustaining his erection, but just knowing he could be reduced to this gasping, heaving mass was so stimulating.

Then, as she had anticipated, it was upon him, and his hand pressed her head down as his hips rose, and his penis head was deep in her throat as it threw off spurt after spurt. Sara swallowed over and over again, wondering how he could have produced so much so quickly.

"Oh, God, madam, you're so good at that," he groaned.

Sara couldn't reply immediately, as his erection only slowly subsided. But at last it slipped out of her mouth, and she licked away one lingering little string.

Then she said, with mock severity," What do you mean, 'good at that'? Is that all I'm good at?"

He reached for her, and they lay quietly together until it was time for him to leave. "Wednesday seems a long was off," the man sighed.

"For me too. I'll fill in part of tomorrow taking coffee with the girls. I say girls, all married, twenty five to thirty five."

The meetings with her three friends, Jen, Steph, and Dena took place roughly once a month and they had always followed a certain pattern. Coffee promoted conversation dealing with fashion, good shopping experiences and general gossip. Then, a strict single glass of wine, during which talk became much more intimate, husband behaviour, sexual secrets and all things physical became the order of the day.

That day it was Jen's turn to be hostess, and Sara was interested to hear more about a man she had mentioned last time. Jen lived in a fairly comfortable three bed-roomed house in a quiet suburban avenue. Her husband worked away for long periods, and last time she had shocked them all with talk of an occasional dalliance she was having with a certain Victor. She had actually recommended him to the group.

"No strings. He doesn't want to be tied down. He has golden hair," she had giggled playfully, " even round his considerable prick."

"Considerable?" Dena had queried. She was married to a banker, and lived a life that advertised that fact. Although she frequently moaned about his low sexual urge. "Always too busy." "Meeting, meetings, meetings, they're never ending."

In answer to her question, Jen had nodded enthusiastically, "He is very well endowed, even though he's quite small in stature, and, believe me, -" She rolled her eyes—" he knows what do with it." Sara had not been long with 'the man' so she kept quiet, and just listened without the remotest sense of envy.

On this particular day the four ladies quickly got beyond the coffee stage, and sipping delicately at the wine, they looked to Jen for an update on the Victor situation. At least Sara and Steph did, and both were amazed when it was Dena who piped up, "Everything that Jen said about him is true."

"You've been with him?" Steph gasped in surprise, A surprise that Sara shared.

"Steph," Dena chuckled, "the man is hung like a horse." Her eyes closed in rapturous memory. "Quite a mouthful."

Jen clapped her hands in delight, clearly not at all upset to share the bounty of this love god. "Hasn't he called on either of you two yet.?"

"What do you mean?" Sara asked, and knew she had a frown on her face.

"Well, I told you he was a free agent. I gave him your addresses."

Dena's eyes widened, "So I was lucky enough to be his first call."

Steph's face showed her shock, "You've given him my address? What if he called when Jack was in?"

Dena held up a hand, "I'm sure he'll be discrete," she looked at Jen for confirmation, as she went on. "He was just a bit demanding at first. When I looked like I wasn't too sure, I thought it was going to be rape. Average height but a strong guy, muscular, and when he gets it up there--wow—he had me screaming for more."

Jen nodded, "And he can keep it up, can't he?"

"For ages," Dena sighed.

When Sara left she was happy to think that 'the man' had all the positive qualities they were raving about in this Victor. All she was looking forward to was the next day, when he would once again surprise her. Their sessions were always a step into the unknown.

Wednesday dawned sunny and bright once again. Sara was grateful for the prolonged fine spell they were having. It meant she could spend more time enjoying the garden.

Thoughts of the garden, gave her a brilliant idea for when the man arrived. The garden was a location that they had never utilised. As soon as Gordon had left for work, she put on the thinnest, the most easily unbuttoned dress she could find. No bra, no panties underneath, only her skin.

Downstairs she searched out some card, and a felt pen. She cut out several small pieces from the card, but on one larger piece she wrote the words, "FIND ME. I'VE LEFT SOME CLUES." Smaller cards scattered about the house advised him whether he was warmer or colder. One card which was intended for the conservatory read, 'You are facing in the right direction'. That, she was sure, would get him into the garden.

Having placed the large card outside the front door, she quickly and strategically placed the other cards. Soon, she heard the sound of his approaching car. She grabbed a small low stool on her way out to the garden.

The garden was large with various clumps of trees, and a summer house, all of which could be suspect areas for a hidden person. Sara knew exactly where she was going to hide. Right against the house was a large, rather overgrown, hydrangea beautiful at this time of year with its red blooms.

Sitting on the low stool behind the bush, Sara was sure the cover would be deceptive enough. Then the front door slammed, and his voice, with a laugh in it, boomed out, "I'll find you, madam, and when I do you know what I'll expect."

Sara chuckled, and glanced at her watch. It showed exactly five minutes past ten. He had fifteen minutes in which to find her, if he didn't, she could demand whatever sexual favour she wanted. Today, her skin tingled and she knew exactly what her first request would be.

It was a bit annoying not being able to see his frantic searching around the house, but she knew her clues would soon bring him out into the garden. Then she looked up at the sky and saw a large black encroaching cloud. Please, no rain before he finds me.

It took eleven minutes for the man to appear on the patio. Now Sara could see him clearly, and her skin tingled all the more when she saw he had removed his shirt. He looked so sexy in just his jeans.