A Slut Is Born Ch 02 1

CHAPTER 2: GUILTY PLEASURE

It seemed all weekend was spent with doubts, questions, and recriminations. Friday night had been wonderful. There was no possible way to doubt or question that. The issue was how and why had it even happened. Nothing, it seemed, about that night fit into the person I had always believed I was. I had two primary priorities in my life: my professional career and my marriage. As it turned out, my middle-management ex-husband didn't prioritize either as highly when he walked out of our marriage because, in his words, I wasn't exciting enough. I guess the much younger woman he went off with was. In my mind, it wasn't a fair criticism. If I was boring in bed, it should mean he was, too. Friday night had been when I had mustered the determination to prove it wasn't me.

In all that time of reflection and self-recrimination since Friday night, I knew how it had happened and even why it had happened. The real question wasn't that but the guilty pleasure that was that night and the argument I had with that side of myself wishing for me to feel and own that guilt. It was out of character for me to argue the position that guilt wasn't required or necessary. I was, after all, a single 38-year-old woman divorced and now finding my way after 13 years of marriage ending in betrayal. Being 6 months since the divorce, it should feel like a desperate rebound reaction on my part. Rationally thought out, I knew I had debated Friday night with myself and only after recognizing that I deserved more happiness and fulfillment beyond my job did I venture out to see what I might find ... and to prove my ex wrong.

Encountering Travis had been a surprise. Especially someone who didn't seem solely intent on an easy score, even if that was what he ended up with. He had been charming, considerate, and engaging while we had a few drinks. That he was also tall, handsome, and buff apparently didn't hurt, either. The decade of age difference never came up as an issue. Maybe the older woman thing was real? Maybe the big strong black man thing was real? Or, maybe just real enough to add fuel to the encounter?

Regardless, the internal argument over the weekend had resolved itself to a comfortable conclusion. I was secure enough in my ability to balance professional and private lives. It was obvious what the private life should look like and, in the latest arguments, was sex still something relegated to marriage as I had always been told and believed? What did the pleasure of Friday night mean, then?

* * * *

"Good morning, Ms. Wilson," my assistant greeted me Monday morning. "How was your weekend?"

I stopped at her desk outside my office with a smile that wasn't quite honest. "It was ... fine, Alice. How about yours?"

She was a young, exuberant woman who was consumed in a new relationship and a wonderful boyfriend. I was prepared as she went on for several minutes about that. I offered another smile, quickly scanned the cubicles in the HR department to check on everyone, then retreated to the sanctuary of my office.

I turned on my laptop computer, checked the office phone for messages, and settled into beginning my day. Mid-morning I picked up my cell phone despite having not heard a ping or ring indicating a message or call. I held it in my hand before tapping the contacts icon. I scrolled through the contact until ... Travis Brown. I had allowed him to put his contact information into my phone. I liked that about him, too. Rather than asking for my phone number and opening myself up to be pursued if I didn't want to be, his action allowed me to be in control of any future contact.

He gave more than I had anticipated to include his job, company, and website. 'The Gym'. He said he was a Fitness Trainer but I expected it to be at one of the big fitness clubs in the city. 'The Gym' was unassuming but intriguing. So intriguing that I did a search for it. It was a small facility in one of the many strip malls just outside the city. They advertised equipment, hours, and specialized training options including sports and general fitness. It had locker rooms with showers, sauna, and hot tubs in each. The membership was reasonable, too. At the bottom was a link for 'Who We Are'. I had to smile. I liked this, too. Travis had said he was a fitness trainer but he turned out to be more as I read, 'Travis Brown -- Co-owner and Primary Sports and Fitness Trainer'. With all the things I had already seen about him, he was also modest.

* * * *

It took me days because I was fighting the growing impulse, though the potency of arguments I attempted to give myself was weakening considerably. I held my phone in my hand for minutes before entering contacts, then another minute staring at 'Travis Brown' before pressing on the name and then the call icon.

When he answered with no familiarity, it reminded me that I had the contact info, not him.

"Travis ... this is Tessa ..." I began.

"Tessa Wilson," he finished. "I've been hoping you would call."

"Umm ... good ... thank you ... I mean ... ugh." I took a breath. I could almost see a huge smile on his face while holding back his laughter. "I really enjoyed ... before."

"Before?" he responded. "Are you saying before we met?"

"NO ... Travis ... I mean when we were together."

"Yes," he responded, "it was very good when we were TOGETHER."

"Travis, this is hard for me."

"Okay, but just one more."

"What?"

"Hard ... it's hard for you? You think it's hard? You should be here if you want hard."

"TRAVIS," I exclaimed trying to sound exasperated. "Seriously? No, I mean ... ugh." Another breath. Then, quieter, I confessed, "Thank you. I've been tense and nervous, lately. I was wondering ..."

"Wondering what?"

"Wondering," I tried to continue, "if maybe you'd like to get together, again?"

"Thank, God," he said. "I was running out of snappy, clever comebacks."

I laughed. "Don't fool yourself. They weren't that clever. So, do you?"

"Yes," came his quick response. "Are we skipping the preliminary drinks, etc.?"

"Am I that transparent?" I asked with a chuckle.

"No, Tessa, I was that hopeful. How about my place? It's not fancy but cheaper than the hotel." My panties were soaked.

* * * *

I parked on the curb outside the address he gave me. It was a smallish ranch style in an older neighborhood but all the homes were neat and well-maintained. The landscaping was nice and the lawns were trimmed. I was nervous. His house was a fraction of mine. How was this supposed to work? The sex definitely worked, though. And, why was I thinking more than that? It wasn't a relationship that had me calling him. Be honest, I told myself, I called him for the sex. Does sex have to include more? I had always thought so.

He led me through the house which was as smallish inside as it was outside. We passed a room off the foyer that looked like his office, then a hallway (probably bedrooms), a family room with a kitchen to the side, and outside to a covered patio. He sat me down at the patio table and went back inside. He came back immediately with a tray of wine, glasses, and large soup bowls of something he called a power salad. Everything was healthy and good and loaded with protein. That's right, I remembered, he was a fitness trainer.

It was good and might partially explain his muscles and low body fat. This guy was serious about his body. While finishing the bottle of wine, we talked about ourselves. I confessed about the divorce and prayed it wasn't a turn-off for him. Then, he quizzed me about my work and I hoped that wouldn't make things difficult. None of it did, though. He was genuinely interested. He seemed to want to connect beyond a night of good sex. I hoped he wasn't looking for something much more serious than what I was ready for.

After a good pause in the conversation, I jumped into it. "Can I be frank?" He nodded. "I really want to be fucked. I can't get over that amazing feeling you gave me. I want to have that feeling again." I watched his reaction. Maybe this was the wrong way. But his face was gentle and open. He smiled, stood, and put out his hand to me.

I don't remember moving to his bedroom. All I remember is being in his arms and kissing, wonderfully kissing. I moaned into his mouth and then he pressed his crotch against me and I felt him, his cock, pressing against me, and I moaned louder and shivered with anticipation.

I broke the kiss with a gasp and pressed the side of my face into his chest and, with a racing heart, blurted out my desperation. "I want to experience everything I can. I have experienced so little. I want so much more." I looked up at him. He was watching me intently. "I didn't know what it could feel like ... how my body could react ... how my mind could be overloaded." When I paused, he lowered his face and kissed me with the lust I could feel pressing into my abdomen with his erect cock. I pressed my face into his chest, again. "Will you guide me, Travis? Will you take me down the road to new and more experiences?"

I felt him take a huge breath and released it slowly as he held me tightly to him, his cock grinding into me. I felt my body tense against his. Was I admitting too much desperation? Was this admission even safe? How could I confess such need to this man who was still basically a stranger? What was it about this man that allowed me to have such trust in him?

His hands moved to the sides of my face and separated us enough to look intently into my eyes. I know my expression back to him probably was that of a shier, embarrassed, and nervous woman. After searching for something reflected in my face, he pulled me back against him and stroked my back.

"It felt special and amazing to me, too, Tessa. If we start doing anything you don't like, just say 'no' or 'stop'. Okay?"

I nodded against his chest and slid a hand between us to stroke his hard cock from outside his jeans. He uttered two words, "undress me."

I took a deep breath and looked up at him. He was just watching, his face neutral but pleasant. I lowered my eyes to focus on loosening his belt. His belt, not his pullover shirt. That wasn't lost on me and I wondered briefly if it was significant to him. It didn't matter. I had his belt loose and I dropped to my knees before him to remove his shoes and socks before unzipping his fly and lowering his jeans to wrestle them off his feet. I put my open palm on the outside of his boxers and looked up. While I was busy, he had pulled his shirt off and I found myself looking up at a very fine specimen of masculinity, a possible black fitness model.

He remained neutral and waiting, only watching me. His expectation was clear. He was naked, his cock hard and pointing at me as I knelt, clothed, before him. He made no move to change the situation or to take action on my expressed desire to be fucked, an expressed desire I was still stunned I had verbalized to him. I wanted new experiences and this was the man I believed could lead me to them. This was the man I seemed to trust after only a single meeting.

With one hand wrapped around his thick, long cock, I resigned myself to following his lead. Any time I had sucked my ex it had been simply as a preliminary to getting him hard to fuck, a fuck that was all too frequently a short and less than satisfying experience, the opposite end of the spectrum compared to Travis.

I took a determined breath and leaned forward. My lips parted to take in the tip of his cock head as I used my tongue on it. I then opened my mouth wider to take in more of the bulbous head and sucked, continuing to use my tongue. My earlier attempt at sucking his cock after we fucked was tentative and short. I resolved to do better, to please him as he wish and he wished this. I pushed more cock into my mouth, pulled back so just the head was inside, then pushed down it, again. I changed to licking the shaft down to his ball sack and found myself becoming absorbed in feeling and inspecting his cock and balls which were clean of any hair. His balls hung beneath him and seemed huge, too. No wonder he seemed to fill me so with cum?

I continued to suck his cock. I lost track of time as I became devoted to the meat in my mouth and on my tongue. I held his cock with one hand at the base as I attempted to take it deeper and deeper into my mouth. When the head entered my throat, I gagged. I pulled off to recover and his cock was thick with my saliva. I licked my lips and swallowed, wiping his cock head with my hand as I looked up at him finally. He was smiling and nodding.

He broke the verbal silence. "I want you to swallow my cum." I just looked at him. I was pretty sure he realized I had never done that before. I turned my eyes back to his cock, licked the end, and returned to looking up at him. I nodded my acceptance and retook his cock into my mouth.

When I finally felt his cock swell and pulse in my hand and mouth, I made sure to pull back enough that only the head was in my mouth as I aggressively pumped his cock with both hands. The first spurt shot to the back of my mouth and almost choked me. The volume and force were surprising. I gulped it down as he wanted but another large spurt followed it. Then, I was vigorously sucking cum leaking from it until it clearly finish. But, even then, I continued to suck and lick for another minute

When I pulled my mouth off, I wore a big smile as I looked up at him from my position on my knees. I had done it. I had not only sucked my first cock to climax, but I had thoroughly enjoyed it. I returned my lips to his cock. I kissed it and licked it. I kissed down the softening shaft to his balls. The feel of it in my hands, on my lips and tongue, and in my mouth was surprisingly powerful.

His hands were on my upper arms and tugging me up to stand. He raised my chin and kissed me deeply. I moaned into his mouth. I was half surprised he wanted to kiss me after having his cum in my mouth but he didn't even hesitate.

His fingers began unbuttoning my blouse as we kissed. My hands roamed over his impressive naked torso. With my blouse off and releasing my bra, he grasped my breast and began sucking and kissing my nipples. I shivered at the sensation of his actions. He released my breasts but continued sucking and nipping my nipples as he worked me out of my slacks. He kissed his way down my body to assist me in stepping out of them. He slipped a finger between my legs and pressed my panties against my pussy.

"You are very wet, Tessa. Your panties are soaked." He rubbed his finger along my pussy. My legs seemed to part on their own. His finger touched my clit and I shuddered. He smiled. I could hear it on his face even without him looking up. Then, he stripped the thin garment down my legs to my ankles and smoothly slid a finger into my pussy. I gasped. "I think someone needs to cum, too." He looked up and I was sure my eyes were pleading with him to fuck me. Yes, I was desperate for his big cock to fill me, again.

He guided me back to the bed. I crawled onto it and was sure he was about to drive his cock into my pussy when he spread my legs but instead he lowered his face into my crotch, his lips and tongue working over my drooling pussy and throbbing clit.

"Oh ... God ..." I exclaimed in surprise and pleasure. I tilted my hips to offer my pussy better to him with a stream of sighs and moans escaping my mouth. "I ... never ... nobody ... yessssssss ..." I thought I only needed his big cock stuffing my pussy and he managed to find another experience to give me. For the first time, I sucked cock to climax and swallowed cum; now he was reciprocating by giving me another first by eating my pussy.

I gripped the sheets of the bed as he tongued my slit and slipped one, then two, fingers into my hole. When his lips captured my clit and sucked hard on the erect nub, my hips rose off the bed and his teeth took hold and softly chewed. While he was nipping my clit, one of his fingers found my g-spot and I muttered an exclamation that I sensed was totally obscene but muffled by groans and panting. Neither nub, outside or inside, had been so stimulated in my life much less together. When I orgasmed, I anticipated relief but he continued with a third finger inside sawing in and out which released the stimulation on my g-spot and his teeth were replaced by his sucking lips on my clit. My orgasm didn't temper by the continued stimulation. My pussy clamped onto his thrusting fingers and my hips remained raised as if to press my erect clit further into his mouth.

When he finally stopped, he used his coated fingers to softly stroke my pussy on the outside, fingers on either side of my lips, and avoiding further contact with my clit. I raised my head weakly to gaze past my heaving breasts. His lower face was glistening with my juices

When he got his knees underneath him, I saw his hardened cock. With a wicked smile, "Hands and knees, Tessa. Time for a hard fuck."

I didn't utter a word in response. I tore my eyes from the cock pointed at me as if it had uttered the words. I weakly turned over and managed to get my knees under me but didn't bother with raising my upper body. I spread my knees wide and unconsciously checked off another first in positions for sex. My life has been so vanilla, I internally sighed.

Almost instantly, I felt the head of his cock slide along my wet, open slit. He slowly moved his cock from head to base along my pussy several times. Even this action brought moans from my still expectant body. When he pulled all the way back to press and penetrate with just the head, I gasped. When he smoothly pressed forward sliding inch after inch after inch deeper into my clasping, tight pussy, we both moaned and groaned.

"You have ... a tight pussy, Tessa," he exclaimed as he stroked deeper. "How many fucks will it take to loosen you, I wonder?"

He wants this to continue, too? It's not just me who wants this? My sex-fogged brain heard and reacted to his words but my mouth didn't form a response ... other than continued moaning and gasping.

He drove me to another orgasm and a pussy filled with his cum.

After, I was draped half on and half off him physically spent. My pelvis was pressed into his hip, one leg draped over his, my head on his chest as his hand lazily stroked my back from neck to butt.

* * * *

"How do they deep-throat?" I had to raise my mouth from his cock to ask the question that suddenly intrigued me. Every time I tried to get more of his cock into my mouth to my throat, the gag reflex kicked in.

He chuckled. "I have no idea. I've certainly never tried."

I returned my attention to his cock and wondered why I asked that. Why did I blurt that out to him? He's shown me some magnificent sex and I couldn't deny the desire I had for it to continue. But, where was this going? I already knew I didn't want another relationship. I had a great job which made me self-sufficient ... except in one way.

I moved to my knees and straddled his hips. I leaned down to kiss him. "Can we fuck, again?" I asked seriously.

He chuckled. "You know what to do."

His cock was hard. My diligent sucking had assured that. I stroked my used pussy over the length of the shaft. I knew what his words meant. We can fuck as long as I do the work. I was a professional, executive, and upper management at a big corporation. I knew when someone was applying for control and testing status within a new encounter. I sat down and the head entered my pussy and none of any of that mattered. Not then.

I fucked him with renewed energy, orgasmed, and was sure he would, too. Then he rolled us over to assume the missionary position and thrust deep and hard into me and very soon he did climax, shooting his cum into me, again.

God, I love his cock ... and everything he's been able to do with it for me.