The Other
Man
Part I, An Introduction
You know how some women almost always ask about the previous person you were with before. It's a mystery why females are like that, but it's almost inevitable to happen. Embarrassedly enough, I am one of those girls but not for the reasons you might think.
Ever since I can remember, the images that have excited me and made that little part of me tingle below were not of your typical well-endowed man stroking his rock-hard cock in his dimly lit faux bedroom. They were of the voluptuous young vixen found in the centerfolds between the staples, looking rather innocent, but ready to go with the first sensuous lick she might encounter in the ensuing moments. I can remember being shown picture after picture from these magazines when I was younger by my older cousin who thought she was taunting and teasing me at the time. What she didn't know is that I would sneak back up to her room when she left the house and actually look at them out of my own curiosity and deep-seeded pleasure. On several occasions, I recall being totally alone in the house with only these magazines and my own wondering fingers to keep me company, entertaining myself to the point of total exhaustion.
I never acted on these strange impulses with actual partners. Rather I would from time to time, go into the bookstores as a teenage girl and stand right along side these
sometimes
discreet older men gawking at the pages of women in the faint, matted booklets. Almost upon seeing the first girl or even before that, the anticipation of what I was about to find, I would feel the dampness begin to flow. Sometimes it would continue to soak through to my jeans, depending upon how much time I was allowed to view these alluring pictures of these young beautiful women and at
that
time, their exposed
natural
bounty.
Now before you misunderstand the situation, let me state for the record, I am not gay in the sense this story is beginning to allude to. But I do happen to think that women have an extraordinarily beautiful shape to them that men could never possess. The shape and size of a woman's breast, the color and sensitivity of her nipples and how slender her body is in proportion to the rest of her is something I heavily admire. And with just the right combination of body and possible personality, the thought of being with such a woman for an isolated period of time would almost be too much for someone like me to handle, especially if given the perfect situation. But again, I could never totally give men up for any one woman. I love the feeling too much of sliding up and down a man's engorged cock while watching him squirm with that exciting pleasure that only a good, wet, hard ride could provide. It has often been said that the power to send a man over the edge into an orgasm is one of the greatest feelings in the world. I would have to agree, it is powerful and such a turn on to watch, even if you're not the main reason for it, it's still amazingβ¦
As I mentioned earlier, I had never acted on these lingering thoughts before and my past sexual experiences were with typical boys and men throughout my life. But one night something unusual happened and I got a chance to explore my oldest desire with the strangest of bedfellows.
Part II, The Descent
Both my husband and I are on our second marriage. And we have an extremely non-conventional relationship with his ex-wife. We have tried very hard to maintain a welcoming atmosphere for everyone involved. I would even venture to call her and I somewhat friends, as she and I talk more to each other about their kid than she does with him. So it was not unusual for me to be at her house delivering some kid clothes for the next day.
"Hey," I said as she opened the front door of her townhouse and greeted me.
"Hey, thanks for dropping the stuff off," she responded, as I walked to the kitchen table to lay the bundle of clothes down. "It's suppose to be really chilly in the morning, then taper off, but I appreciate you bringing it over tonight." I noticed she was wearing a long tee-shirt nightgown and no bra, probably getting ready for bed because it was late. I could faintly see her semi-erect nipple through the shirt and for a minute I had one of my old passing thoughts.
"It's no problem," I told her walking toward the door again. Because of the unusually warm temperature that night, I wasn't wearing too much either but an old tattered gray t-shirt and a pair of old cotton shorts. I didn't bother with a bra either because it was just supposed to be a ten-minute jaunt over and back. We only live minutes from each other, so these trips were typically quick and painless.
"Can you wait a minute, I've got some papers I need for him to see from school. I forgot to leave them the other day, if you can give them to him. You might want to look at them too. They involve all of us," she explained.