CHAPTER 2: THE WEEKEND
Sometime in the blackness of night, my eyes opened and it took some moments for me to begin to grasp where I was and ... more importantly ... what had happened. I was not consumed with either embarrassment or regret. Instead, I felt curiosity. Was last night real? Were those experiences really real?
I turned onto my other side. I could feel him there in the bed and my eyes could make his shape even in the blackness. I reached out and touched his side, moved my hand to his flat stomach, and paused. His breathing remained steady and shallow. I remembered the wonderful pleasure he gave me last night and my hand moved as if drawn by a magnet too strong for any resistance ... not that I wanted to resist. My fingers grazed along his skin until they encountered his cock laid to the side like a snake in peaceful repose. I gently grasped it to move it to his abdomen. Again, I sensed no disturbance in his sleep.
I let my fingers softly glide over the cock from head to base. My touch was gentle and very soft but his cock began responding nonetheless. As I stroked, I began applying more pressure with his cock hardening steadily. Before I knew it my hand was grasping the cock and pumping it and it wasn't much longer before I was moving down the bed with my mouth encompassing the head. I sucked on the head more gently than I had the night before but still with the same devotional effect. While my mouth and tongue worked on the head, my hand stroked the remaining shaft and balls and there was a lot of shaft remaining. I felt so content with his cock in my mouth. It seemed crazy if I were to think on it too hard but it felt so right. He made it very clear that he was not looking for a relationship. His life was his clients and agency. I got that but he also was eager and willing to lead me into great sex. Could the sex, in part, be so great because it was just sex without the entanglement?
A groan and his hips lifted from the bed. Then, without a word, he pulled me up alongside his body and rolled onto me. I opened my legs. His long, firm cock lay pressed against my abdomen and stomach.
He kissed me. "I had to offer help to a sex maniac."
I giggled. A sex maniac. I've been deprived when I wanted it. Was it anything more than that? But I did want it. I wanted sex very much but I especially wanted his cock. As the head of his cock sank into my ready pussy hole, I wondered if all those women who say size doesn't matter ever had a really big cock stuffed up their pussies and owning them. He was less tentative this time. Maybe tired. Maybe half asleep. He rammed his cock up into my pussy. He drove much of his cock deep into me with each stroke and, again, it was bumping me deep inside with spikes of arousal until my legs were wrapped around his waist and my hips rose to meet his powerful thrusts. He was grunting with effort and I was moaning in response. When his cum filled me again I marveled at the warmth and volume as my own body quaked in yet another powerful orgasm.
When my eyes opened the next time, it was light outside and I was in the bed alone. I stretched like a cat feeling this man's bed against my naked body. I rolled to the side of the bed and stood to part the curtains. A sliding door to a large patio. A pool in the back and thick landscaping around the yard. I used the bathroom, then stood considering my discarded clothes. He's given me four wonderful orgasms in just hours since we met. At this point, was any degree of modesty relevant?
I padded barefoot and naked to the bedroom door and down the hall. I saw and heard nobody in the family room or kitchen, though I did smell relatively fresh coffee. I moved to the sliding door where the family room and kitchen join and found him sitting at a patio table. On the table were a mug and a cell phone. He seemed contemplative. He was wearing boxers. Rather than second-guessing myself about putting on some underwear, I opened the sliding door. I stepped out cautiously glancing around to check on privacy (it seemed very private), leaned over to kiss the top of his head while pressing my D-cup breasts into his neck and shoulders. He greeted me and very casually reached back over his shoulder and caressed a breast pressing against him.
I stepped around in front of him to ask if he needed more coffee. He looked me up and down without hiding his deliberate appraisal. "Damn," he exclaimed. "I was beginning to question if you could really be as sexy and beautiful as I thought last night. You are, Kristi." He looked from my pussy to my breasts. "Maybe I should just lock you in a spare bedroom and periodically go in to fuck you."
I blushed, partly from his blatant stare and partly from the arousal I so immediately felt by his expression of desire. I leaned in for a kiss on the lips. "You wouldn't have to lock the door."
I got us both coffee, then sat at the table to also look out over the yard. He asked what my plans were today and when I needed to be back at my apartment. I told him I had no plans ... such was my life, remember? He shook his head and exclaimed that I deserved so much more. I shrugged. That's what he said last night but a change wasn't really so easy. I told him I could call a cab, that he probably had things to do. He looked out over the yard for minutes then at his phone. He said he would undoubtedly be getting calls and would need to make some but he had no real meetings or commitments.
"I really enjoyed last night, Kristi. As long as you understand what this is, we can have fun and be good for each other. What I would like is for you to spend the rest of the weekend with me."
I studied his face, my eyes drifting down over his hard, muscled upper body. The words flowed out without thought. "I don't have any clean clothes."
"You won't need any."
I looked out at the pool. "I don't have a swimsuit."
