Disclaimers: OK, this might be repetitive, but THIS STORY IS FICTION. Well, that's not entirely true. The two main characters are known to both my wife and I. Of course, I've changed their names, even though they've both given us permission to tell their story. As always, anyone lucky enough to get lucky, is at least eighteen years old. This story could be in several categories, LW, Mature, Romance, but as you will see, the category I'll assign it to, will be the best fit
This story is my very first attempt at the
Summer Lovin' Story Contest 2023
.
Here goes nothing.
I am Annette Collins, and I'm sitting at my normal coffee shop, waiting for my workday to start. I am a Senior Accountant with a mid-sized law firm in downtown Bellevue, Washington. Having worked there since before I graduated Seattle University, nineteen years previously.
Having survived a near disastrous marriage to Jonathan Collins, twelve years beforehand, all I had to show for the seven years of marriage to a world class cheat, were the house he was still paying for, a nearly perfect sixteen year old son, Brad, and a nonexistant social life.
All in all, I considered myself truly fortunate.
Let me give my faithful readers a little back story.
I met Jonathan Collins during my junior year in college. He was getting his MBA at the University of Washington, which required the participants to teach a lower level accounting class at a school other then the U W.
Here was an impressionable twenty year old, gawking at this very good looking, six foot three inch twenty-four year old grad student each day of the term.
Only having one sexual experience, that was less than stellar, I knew I had to take this slow, when Collins started showing his interest in me.
I tried my best not to seem like a love struck teenager, but failed, miserably.
My mother warned me not to jump into anything with 'that letch' as she called him.
Did I take her warning seriously? Nope, and it cost me dearly.
Yes at first, I did take it slow, only allowing his hands to find my D cup bra was all me, with no need for any padding. When he moved his hands to my very round behind, pulling me close enough to feel his sizable bulge, I knew I had to put the breaks on.
It must have been the fourth or fifth time in our heavy make out sessions, when his hands not only had my bra off, but found their way into my panties.
I literally saw stars the first time one of his fingers touched my pussy lips, sliding up to my throbbing clit.
When his clothes magically disappeared, finally letting me see his fairly thick eight inches of glorious manhood, I barely had the ability to whisper condom.
When his huge, covered cock entered me, I held on for dear life, as he slowly moved in and out, while lightly nipping at my engorged nipples.
As he picked up steam, I must have had three or four little orgasms, when finally 'the big one' hit. It hit with so much intensity, I thought I passed out for a few seconds.
"Oh, my fucking goodness, Jon, I can't believe what we just did"
"Are you sure I'm only your second, because I can't wait to see what you're like when you get really good," he beamed.
While I was catching my breath, noticing his cock was still at half mast, I still had the thought in the back of my mind, why is this older hunk interested in me? Not that I was bad looking, but at just under six feet tall, and on the very full figured side, I would never be mistaken for a Vegas showgirl.
As my breathing was finally back to normal, I turned to see him still grinning at me, when I slid my hand down his muscular chest to his cock, wrapping my fingers around it, and slowly moving up and down.
Leaning over and whispering for him to have patience, I very tentatively put just the very tip into my mouth. Not too bad, I thought, so I took the next two or three inches in my mouth, and slowly started bobbing up and down.
Just then, he moved around, holding both my hips, and started kissing the insides of both of them.
If I was overjoyed with a finger in my pussy, I was absolutely overwhelmed when his tongue licked all around my pulsating clit.
As I took as much of his sizable manhood in my mouth as possible, he added two fingers deep inside my sopping wet pussy. I must have cum another two or three times before his third finger entered me, and I nearly threw him off his bed.
Just as I was nearing another bed rattling orgasm, he started shooting stream after stream of cum into my throat. Luckily, I had a small towel next to me that I used for my catch cloth.
Just a dribble or two was more than enough for me to swallow.
For the rest of my school year we got together each and every chance we had.
I did decide to go to my mother's doctor to get on a reliable birth control, much to Jonathan's delight.
Going into my senior year, and Jonathan getting hired by a very high powered financial company, he went to my parents and asked them for their permission to marry me.
We set a date right after my graduation, the following June.
Against my parent's wishes, we moved in together, with me promising to finish school.
I actually started to work at the law firm I'm still at, before I finished my last classes.
It didn't long for is to get our routine going, with me working three afternoons a week, while Jonathan was working between fifty and sixty hours a week, saying this was necessary to build up his clientele.
I just decided if we were to succeed, financially, this was a necessary evil.
With my work and school, and his work, the one thing that did NOT suffer was our sex life.
If we weren't working, studying or eating, we were fucking. Or sucking. Or both.
We both were very aware what wasn't on the menu. Nothing larger than than his index finger was ever going anywhere near my rear end. Don't get me wrong, we both enjoyed everything we did. And this included some limited digital exploration.
My parents put on the wedding of my dreams. Everything was like a storybook tale, me in white (wink, wink), Jonathan looking like my Prince Charming, capped off with a honeymoon in Mexico.
By our second anniversary celebration, we both decided we needed a house to give us the necessary room, as we both realized we wanted to start our family.
House hunting went better than expected, finding a brand new neighborhood that had many young, professional couples starting out in their careers.
It didn't take too long before we were trying our best to start the family we both wanted.
Even with Jonathan still working some fifty hour weeks, we found time to try most anything to achieve the goal of a child, or two.
There wasn't any part of our house that was out of bounds for our fucking. Each of the three bedrooms. Our den/home office. The shower stall. Even with me bent over the kitchen table. Yes, we sanitized it when we finished doing it.
It must have been at the five month period of our marathon fucking that I realized I was late.
At my mom's suggestion, I waited another month, just to make sure.
That must have been the longest four weeks in history.
By the time I knew I wasn't getting my period, I made a mad dash to my doctor's office.
When she showed me the ultrasound of a tiny shadow like figure growing inside of me, I couldn't text Jonathan fast enough.
He knew right away, when he read my text saying, 'hello, daddy' next to the ultrasound picture.
We were both floating on cloud nine.
Both of us decided we didn't want to know the sex of this little miracle, as we just didn't care. Healthy was what we both wanted.
Each night we would find ourselves in bed, with our sexcapades still in high gear.
One major change was, as my tummy grew, we did more and more of our fucking with me on my side. Having his magnificent cock entering me from behind only intensified the feeling.
As I entered my eighth month, and felt the size of the Goodyear Blimp, we eased way back on the fucking, but still maintained a nice oral regimen.
Into my ninth and final month, now the size of Grand Coulee Dam, sex became secondary to me trying to find a comfortable position for sleeping.
I didn't even feel like giving him an occasional hand job.
Even though Jonathan didn't say anything, I just had this feeling he was getting something on the side. He had stopped complaining, so I had my suspicions.
Heading to the hospital, one evening, it took nearly three hours of serious labor that culminated in Bradly Collins finally letting the delivery room staff know he was happy to be free of his confines.
I knew he might be on the large side, but when the head nurse announced, nine pounds one ounce, twenty-two inches long, I just stared at my husband, and silently knew he wasn't touching me until Brad was in kindergarten.
Just kidding.
I couldn't believe how big our 'little' one was. Putting him in my arms, I knew he was going to be larger than his daddy, some day.
Both daddy and I couldn't get enough of our son. I didn't think Jon would let go long enough for me to feed him.
I did take three months off, as my firm allowed this for maternity leave.
We did find a daycare that took infants as young as three months, but it made me extremely sad going back to work.
Sad enough, that my boss told me to stay home, and do my work remotely.
I couldn't have been happier.
The one bad thing about this arrangement?
I didn't get much exercise, making it very difficult to lose my baby weight.
This became a bone of contention between Jonathan and me.
He thought that if it was so easy to put those pounds on, then it should have been just as easy to take them off. Fat fucking chance. Pun intended.
I do have to admit that the arguing about weight diminished the first time I took his cock in my mouth, and sucked him to conclusion. Duh! A great blow job solves most arguments.
At the three month mark, we picked up right where we left off before my pregnancy.
Yes, I went back on birth control, as neither of us wanted another nine months of my cravings, weight gain, or moodiness.
As I was able to get work done from home, time seemed to pass, quickly.
