Donna Ch 01 2

As an Introduction, I'm Devon, a 32 year-old black man now living in Chicago, the city where I was born and raised. I work for a mid-sized investment bank and travel a fair amount. I'm 6' 4" and a good athlete, all conference in high school basketball and all state in football. I received a scholarship to play college football on the west coast, where I was an all conference tight end freshman year, but a severe off the field injury curtailed my career. So I hit the books got a degree in economics, and then an MBA, and I now have a pretty good life.

My weakness, or at least my kink, is married women. Specifically, white married women. No use psychoanalyzing the motives, but there are aspects, which I will over time describe, that just make married white women much more of a sexual turn on than more "normal" relationships. My other kink is I'm a dominant man -- not that I enjoy inflicting pain or wearing weird attire, but I know what I enjoy and clearly communicate my desires and expectations. Typically, my playmates are older than me, but not always. Sometimes I meet them on line (which I prefer) before we meet in person, but sometimes the original meeting is in person. Most of these experiences have been during the past five years, although there are some exceptions. I'm not telling these experiences in chronological order -- just the order of what's in my head when I'm writing.

Let's begin with Donna, who lives in Scottsdale. We met on line on a broad conversational web site. She said she was an empty nester and was a bit bored, and looking for people to chat with. She posted some photos, none of them overly revealing. She's pretty, in her 40s, with short blond hair and a deliciously curvy body. We exchanged messages in the chat forum.

After a few exchanges of general chat, she reminded me, "You do know that I'm married."

"So you said -- what's your point."

"My point is you might be wasting your time."

"I'm a big boy -- I can decide how I spend my time. Besides, it's just chatting -- nothing wrong about that."

We continued to chat that night for a while about general interests and pop culture. She asked a lot of questions of my background -- it was clear that she had not spent much time around black people (that can be a turn off for many men of color, but I actually find it a turn on).

We had a couple of voice conversations in the next few days. She started calling me a lot. One night I asked about her husband. "He's a salesman and travels a lot for work to mid-sized cities in Nevada, Arizona, and New Mexico."

"I guess I'm kind of a salesman too. But I travel to bigger cities -- like LA and San Francisco."

"Those sound like more fun places."

"It depends on who's in those places. What else about your husband defines him, except for his mad mid-sized city sales skills?"

She laughed. "Not that much else. Do your travels ever take you to Phoenix?"

"Occasionally." I knew where she was leading, but with this type of woman, it's a good idea to have her chill for a while. "Do you have any photos of you as a couple?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I like seeing people I meet in general situations. It gives me a better feel for who they are."

"Hang on while I look."

She sent a few pics. He was a dumpy guy -- relatively short and about 40 pounds overweight. In one of the photos, she was wearing a black cocktail dress -- showing a lot of cleavage and looking very hot. "That pic of you in the black dress is amazing."

"Thank you."

"You look great covered in black."

"You think so?"

I changed the tone slightly. "Your husband is a very lucky man."

She laughed. "I agree."

She continued to call me a lot. I kept most of the calls short. The next time we talked for a while, I pushed the conversation to the edgier side. I probed about her sex life.

"It's kind of bland."

"With a husband like yours, any sexy woman would find it bland."

She laughed.

I asked, "What do you enjoy sexually?"

"You know, kind of everything."

"That's a bit vague. But I won't push. You don't seem particularly satisfied."

"You could say that." What are your turn ons?"

"Not sure you're ready for that yet. I don't want to scare you off."

"I'm a big girl -- I can handle your truth."

"I have a thing for white women older than me, particularly if they have sexy curves like you."

"Thank you. Are there specific things you enjoy?"

"I'm very dominant sexually -- I control the action and make sure I get the pleasure I desire. I also enjoy making my woman cum hard, but in a way that I control."

There was silence for a few seconds. I said, "I told you I'd scare you off."

"No -- it's not that. I've never been with a dominant man before. I don't know what to say."

"Have you been with any other men since you've been married?"

"I had a few flings."

"Good, a sexy woman like you should explore."

"I guess."

"Seems like you're not sure. Did you feel guilty after?"

"Not at all. It's just that the idea was exciting but the experiences themselves were not that thrilling."

"I think you need the right playmate."

"You might be right."

"These other men you met -- I assume they were not the dominant type."

"Not at all"

"Were they older than me?"

"By a lot"

"How else were they different?"

Silence again. I waited several seconds. "Tell me."

"They were... they were white."

"I thought so. It seems that you need a younger, dominant, black man."

After a few seconds she said, "I think I do."

"I'll tell you Donna. I've enjoyed our conversations. But it's time for you to stop calling me and start extending me an invitation to meet."

She paused for a while. Then she said, "When would you be able to come to Phoenix?"

"I have some meetings scheduled in San Francisco in late April. I can fly into Phoenix the day before and meet you."

"That like six weeks away -- seems like a long time."

"I agree. I am attending a conference in LA in a couple of weeks -- the 25th. I could fly in the day before. But the problem is I can't commit to seeing you. If some of my LA clients want to meet before the conference, I might have to fly directly to LA.

"I'd still like to try."

"Let's plan for the 24th but I can't promise."

"My husband won't be traveling but I can get away in the middle of the day."

We stopped chatting as much -- once a meeting is set, there's really no reason to just idly chat. A couple of days before, I got a message from my biggest LA client. Since they knew I was in town for the conference, they wanted to meet for dinner the night before. Damn -- that's what I was worried about.

I suggested we meet during or even after the conference, but some of their key people would be busy after the 24th. I've built a good reputation in my business by making things happen, and I couldn't turn them down -- they alone were responsible for a large portion of my bonus for the last year.

I messaged Donna to call me. She immediately did. I explained the situation. "Sorry I can't see you."

'I understand." She sounded very disappointed.

A few minutes later she called me back. "Since you already have your flight to Phoenix, could you book a flight to LA from there? We could meet for just a little bit."

"Let me call you back."

I checked flight schedules. I could make it work, getting to Phoenix late morning and then catching an early afternoon flight to LA. I would have a couple of hours between flights.

I called her to let her know. "I might only have an hour before I have to clear security. That's a long way for you to drive just for a meet and greet."

"I'll take it. But at that time of day, I probably can't wear that black dress that you liked."

"I'm glad you remembered. But we can save that for another time. I do have some thoughts about what you can wear. I always wear a suit when traveling for work, so it should be complimentary." I then gave her specific instructions and sent her some photos of my ideas.

On the morning of the 24th, we took off right on time. I had a lot of work to do on the plane, but I did occasionally smile -- this sexy, blonde, housewife was going to meet me at the airport just to say hi to me. I was first off the plane. Unfortunately, she couldn't get through security to meet me at the gate.

As I went down the escalator to baggage claim, I was looking for her, and there she was. And dressed just like I suggested. Perfect make up. White silky dress, cut just above the knee. Showing some cleavage with some buttons that were begging to be undone, but we were in public. She called out "Devon" and ran over to me. And gave me a big hug -- I looked at her, and then gave her a huge kiss. Our tongues started to intertwine, and I guided her body so her leg was between mine.

As we kissed more, I pressed into her leg, and my leg pressed in between hers, and I heard her moan into my mouth. I had started to wish I was a little less responsible about my clients. We came up for air, and got some quizzical looks from passersbys. We were quite different -- age, race, height (she was average height, about 5' 5", which put me almost a full foot taller than her.

She said "we should go to my car."

"We only have about an hour before I need to get back."

"Then we shouldn't waste any time."

We started walking, my arm around her shoulders, her arm around my waist.

I said, "You look absolutely perfect, much better than your photos."

She hung on me a bit tighter when I said that. In about three minutes we were walking in an almost empty section of the garage, but I saw an SUV parked with no cars around it.

"Yours?"

"Yes."

When we got to the car, I let go of my carryon, grabbed her with both hands, and started kissing her on the lips again, playing with her tongue, licking the inside of her mouth.

She moaned, "I love that."

Our mouths continued to play, while our bodies moved against each other. I was starting to get hard, so I reached down, grabbed her left hand, and guided it to the growing bulge in my pants. I then pressed her hand against the bulge, and her fingers started to grasp my dick.

"Do you like feeling my hard dick?"

"I do"

I let go of her hand and she continued to stroke. I then took my right hand and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons on her dress so I could reach in and feel her nipples. The kisses got even deeper and sexier, and she moaned even louder in my mouth.

I then realized something. "Didn't you say you drove a Tesla?"

"Yes, I switched cars with my husband. I thought we might want some more room."

"Smart woman."

At that she started rubbing my dick even harder. I needed to feel her without the wool pants in the way.

She sensed what I was thinking. "I folded the back seats down, so it's like a flatbed in the back. I brought some pillows and blankets too."

"What are you waiting for? Open it up."

She fumbled in her purse for her keys, and then the back was open. I helped her up into the back, I took off my jacket and tie, threw my carryon in and climbed in the back. We then closed the hatchback. I was laying on my back, we my head toward the front seat, and my feet barely inside. She was on top of me, kissing deeply again, I again guided her left hand to my dick -- she was stoking my bulge hard -- and I could glimpse the sight of her sparking wedding ring against the wool of my pants. That made me harder.

I held her head, scooted my body up a bit, and guided her head down. She began unbuttoning my shirt and kissing my chest as she revealed more and more skin. She got the shirt unbuttoned and started to undo my belt. She was doing well, but in cramped quarters it was tough on her. I reached down and pulled my pants off. Her head was on my stomach and she was looking at my dick, grasping it with her left hand, and stroking it. What a beautiful site. Plus her breasts were now completely peaking out of her dress.

I put my hand on her head, and guided her lower, until I could feel her breath on my dick. She started to open her mouth, but I grabbed her hair forcefully and held her back.

"Do you want to suck my dick, Donna?"

"Oh, yes."

"Then you must ask."

"Please can I suck your dick?"

"Good girl."

I guided her head to my dick and let het start taking me in her mouth. She was trying hard. I pulled her head off of my dick."

I asked, "How do I compare to your husband?"

"He's not even half as big, but it's been several years since I sucked him."

She returned to sucking me, and took me deeper each time, but not getting even half of my 10-inch dick in her mouth. She was doing good for a first time. She looked so sexy with my black dick in her mouth. I reached down and started feeling her breasts -- plump and soft, with rock hard nipples in the middle. I started pinching her nipples -- her moans in her mouth were vibrating over my dick.

After several minutes I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her off of my dick, and dragged her head up level with my mouth. I kissed her deeply, and then put my left hand on her throat choking her a little, while my right hand went under the bottom of her dress and started stroking her very slick pussy. I broke off the kiss, and my mouth went down and found a nipple, sucking and nibbling a little. Her breathing was very heavy.

I asked, "Do you liked being handled by a dominant?"

She whimpered, "I love it."

"Your main job now is to cum hard for me. She was grasping my back with both hands tightly, and then It took only seconds before her hips began bucking wildly and she started gushing and moaning loudly. Her orgasm lasted for minutes -- I could tell it had been a long time since she came that hard -- if ever. I put the fingers of my right hand up to her mouth and told her to lick her cum off my fingers, which she did greedily.

"How do they taste?"

"Soooooo good."

We laid there for a couple of minutes, and then she reached down and started stroking my still hard dick.

"Your hands look so small on my dick."

"It's a big dick."

"Your ring looks very pretty against it."

She moaned and started to stroke faster. I was getting very hard again, but I didn't think I would be able to cum in that tight of a space. I opened up the hatch, and climbed out, taking a blanket and pillow out with me, and laid the blanket and then pillow on the ground to the side of the SUV. I then held her hand while she got out of the car, her dress sloppily hanging on her shoulders.

I pressed her against the car and kissed her, and against put her left hand on my dick -- she stroked me as we continued to kiss. I then grabbed her by the hair, and pulled her down to her knees, kneeling on the pillow and blanket, and guided her mouth again to my dick. She started bobbing her head back and forth, taking me in a little deeper than the last time.

I then held her head, and said, "It's time for me to fuck your mouth for a while."

Since it was her first time with a real dick, I took it easy on her, but she did gag a little.

I pulled her off, letting her breathe a bit, and asked, "How does it feel gagging on a real dick?"

Her answer was to immediately return to sucking my black dick. And I began to face fuck her harder.

I looked down to see this beautiful woman who 30 minutes ago looked like the perfect junior league married mom, on her knees, looking up at me with messy make up, her breasts hanging out of her dress and covered with her spit, the ring on her hand glistening while holding onto my leg, her head leaning back against her husband's car in a parking garage with a big black dick thrusting in and out of her mouth. An incredibly sexy site.

I asked her, "Do you like having her mouth fucked by a real man?"

She moaned, "uh huh."

"Get ready for a heavy load!"

I started picking up the pace. Her eyes gleaned in anticipation. After a couple of minutes, I felt my balls tighten, and my dick exploded in her sexy mouth. Try as she did, she couldn't swallow it all -- some cum leaked down her cheek and onto her breasts.

After staying in her mouth for a bit, I pulled out and said, "You need to lick me clean."

She eagerly did.

"Now you need to wipe my cum off of your face and breasts, and lick your fingers clean."

She made a sexy show of that for me.

I helped her up and opened the driver's door for her -- I got around in the passenger seat. We sat there for a few minutes while she straightened her dress and make up as much as she could. She then drove out of the garage and returned to the terminal. I grabbed my carryon from the back and told her goodbye -- I'd text her from LA. I was still coming down from the high of nutting in my new married friend's mouth, and I couldn't wait for the next time.

To be continued.