I gave Bill, my husband of 27 years, one last deep kiss before climbing off him. I went into our en-suite bathroom and freshened myself up before pulling down the skirt of my dress. After fluffing my hair and checking my makeup, I was ready to don my heals and leave our home to meet my 'date' for the night.
"Thanks for warming me up, Stud," I said, my smile evident in my voice. "Are you ok for me to go, or do you need a few minutes to catch your breath before going on kid duty?"
Bill chuckled, love shining in his eyes, as he got out of our tousled bed. He crossed to me and kissed gently down the side of my neck. As always, ripples of desire raced through my body, despite the two orgasms I had just enjoyed. "I am fine to parent. You go have fun. You need this evening, and you deserve it. Maybe by the time you get home I'll be ready for round two, assuming you still are in the mood."
I kissed Bill back, noisily, playfully. "You know how I am... the more I get the more I need. I strongly suspect I'll be wanting some dessert upon my return." With that, I slipped on my heals, said goodnight to our boy, and set out for my adventure.
My husband and I entered the lifestyle about a dozen years ago. Like most couples, my husband was the one who instigated our forays into swinging, but I was right there behind him. We have always had a strong marriage; no jealously, no episodes of screaming rage. When we argue, which is seldom, we always keep our love for one another at the forefront of our minds. When we first dipped our toes into the swinging pool, we made note of couples who exhibited signs of jealousy or marital drama and stayed clear. We sought couples who, like us, were in a sound marriage and who only wanted the drama of outstanding sexual interactions.
As time went by, and our status changed from newbie to veteran, we began to branch out. For us, that involved playing alone. Bill has ladies with whom he will meet for an afternoon or evening of fun, and I have men I meet for similar fun.
Tonight, I was meeting a new man, Derek. According to his profile, Derek is about 6'3" 250 lbs, a black man with close cropped hair and clean shaven. I don't think it is a fetish, but most of the men with whom I meet alone are large black men. For one thing, being a heavy woman (BBW) with rather large breasts and ass, that is whom I seem to attract. For another, I find large bald or close-cropped black men attractive. Typically, I seek out men who are domineering in the bedroom and was hoping Derek would fill that bill as well.
Usually I procure the room, as I like the advantage of arriving first. But due to timing, Derek had texted me the room in which we would meet. I pulled up to the Super8 one town over from my home, surprised at how quickly the trip had gone. I guess time flies when you are going to get lots of dick! I texted Bill my arrival, and the room number, and prepared myself to be open to all that Derek had to offer.
I knocked on the door to room 112 and when the door opened, I smiled. Derek looked exactly like the picture he had sent, which pleased me. I always send the pictures that look most like me in the here and now, but some folks use pics from several years ago, or that one pic that was taken at a great angle that makes them look super young or super skinny. I never want my partner to be disappointed or shocked upon seeing me, and I never want to give the impression I am ashamed or embarrassed by my self-presentation. This is who I am. I know I am beautiful and sexy, and that is all that matters. Derek seemed to like what he saw, at least in my cleavage area, which was where is eyes were centered.
"Lola, I am so glad to meet you", he said, finally looking into my eyes. He reached out for my hand and ushered me into the room. There was a little love seat in the room, and he guided me to have a seat there. I sat and angled myself to where I could face him. We chatted a few moments, with Derek being a complete gentleman. I crossed my leg over into his leg space, gently resting my calf over his denim-clad thigh. Derek took this fir the invitation it was and stroked a hand up to my thigh. My heart skipped a beat when I saw has huge his hand was, resting against the lily-white of my skin. It's not always true, but in my experience, oversized hands and feet usually did mean a penis I would enjoy.
As we continued with meaningless chit-chat, Derek was clearly trying to determine how much time should pass before he made his move. After several minutes of small talk, of him stroking my thigh in the same spot, and of me trying to use Jedi Mind Tricks to get him to pick up the pace (this IS the pussy you are looking for!), I decided to start the ball rolling.
I stood up, and straddled Derek, resting gently across his broad thighs. Holding his face with both hands, I gently kissed him, enjoying the smooth cushion of his lips as I let my tongue drift into his mouth. This was clearly a good move to make, as I could immediately feel Derek's erection strain against his jeans and brush my inner thigh.
