On my way to be with Dennis, I thought of my husband back home as a bundle of quivering nerves, for I was also a bundle of quivering nerves. That state would be something for us to compare and discuss when I returned. A rich part of the whole experience that we would share, maybe on repeated occasions over time lying ahead. I could easily imagine Jamie asking: "What was in your mind as you drove to his apartment?" So many, many things my darling husband. At that moment I knew I had to reserve a part of my mind for Jamie, no matter how completely I gave myself to the excitement and pleasures of sex with Dennis. And no matter how completely Dennis took me to a separate state of being, a state of sexual surrender and delirium that made my husband and all else of my real life disappear for moments, periods, lapses.
What was in my mind? That I was going to fuck another man. With your knowledge and full consent. That this is really happening. Right now. We are doing it, our next step. Can you imagine any couple we know doing this? Any other husband with the courage you have? The courage to let me do this so you will have your own reward of erotic transcendence? I don't have the courage to share you with another woman for even ten seconds. You have that courage, to have your own private, shattering thrill. You are not a weak, worthless man. You are more emotionally and mentally grounded than any other man I can imagine. The strength of your love for me, your trust of me, is greater than any other husband that I know could possibly possess. You are a giant of strength and purpose in this and all that you do. I have given many hours of thought to this, even since that first story of the Red Rooster Inn was so erotically enflaming to you. Now I have final understanding. Your courage to face and fully accept that unique part of you, my courage to fully embrace my private benefits another man would provide me, all to give back to you. I was going to be with Dennis Cantrell, and he was going to fuck me.
There was plenty of daylight left. My sandals made flap sounds on the steps and porch. My knock of the door was discrete.
"I know I'm early. I couldn't wait any longer."
"Thank God you are early. I was going crazy waiting."
Dennis pulled me into his room, closed the door and flipped the lock latch. It was a room with a single bed, a stove, fridge, sink in a corner, and an opened door to a bathroom. The carpet was worn. Three mismatched chairs to sit in. The sheets on the bed had creases and must have been new out of the package. I put my purse on the bed side table which was crowded with a lamp.
"Not the most luxurious accommodations," Dennis said, "but it serves its purpose."
"You are the luxury I care about, and my purpose for being here."
He was spiffy in his khaki shorts and polo shirt with navy blue and red stripes. Hair neatly parted, cheeks close shaved and shinning, his eyes sparkling with readiness and intent. We came together and kissed.
It was like the kiss in my office but without restraints. No fears of interruption, of getting caught. We were alone for the night, to dock and connect.
His big man body, powerful arms hugging me to him, me on my toes to bring my lips to his, which tightened my ass cheeks. His hands on my tightened ass to pull me against his cock. His lips devouring mine, our tongues deep in each other's mouths. Our bodies two furnaces generating a heat that welded us together. I melted into the sexual fusion with that big powerful wonderful man. His having me, my fusion with him in the sexual heat, was my reason for being from that moment on.
His lips broke from mine and rained little kisses all over my face and ear and neck. I nuzzled his neck and licked it to taste the smell there. The smell was a mix of cologne, soap, and that indefinable substance of maleness.
I had forgot that, how all the men I had before had a different smell. There is a general sameness, but each has a subtle singularity that is all his own, and for some that singularity is the essence of sex. You have yours. Dennis has his. No doubt I have my own female variety. His clean, manly smell was released by our fused body heat, and wafted up to my nose. The essence of sex, Dennis' smell, breaking up those scents of cologne and arm pit deodorant he had considerately applied for me. That smell of a man in sexual heat. I breathed him in deeply, and fused more tightly to him in intoxicated surrender. Every cell in my body was attuned to him.
Our mouths joined again to kiss. To taste, Our noses to smell. And deep in our throats sounded little hums of passion and submission. The power of sexual fusion with Dennis, a new man, consumed me.
It would take another time and place for me think how much like a first honeymoon night was my kiss with Dennis in his shabby apartment. Or how similar to every woman's honeymoon fantasy, I should say. But first honeymoon night so often carries ceremonial baggage that clutters the spontaneity of blissful union. All the stresses of production of a large wedding, participants, caterers, logistics, nervous tension, exhaustion, all conspiring to leech final consummation of its fantasy potency. Moreover, the typical pair that marries have first consummation of sexual bliss long before they marry. It is a man and woman betraying their wedding vows, cheating on their spouses, that ironically comes closer to that explosive wedding night fantasy. Especially when they have that build up of irresistible attraction and desire such as Dennis and I had.
We kissed in a frenzy of desire and insulated freedom. I stepped back and lifted up my tube top and slipped it over and off my arms. I tossed it behind me, not caring where it landed. Dennis stared at my breasts tumbled free, the resilience of projection and curve quivering in coming to rest in offering. The look in his eyes made me think my breasts were more fulsome than his wife's. He came out of his trance and ripped off his polo shirt, like playing follow the leader.
He is much hairier than you. A thick man with a barrel chest. When we kissed again my breasts flattened to him and his hair tickled my nipples.
Skin to skin. A new man with new strength and power and sexual drive. A new fragrance of the essence of sex.
I unwrapped my skirt and tossed it somewhere. He shed his shorts. His cock sprang up to full extension. We gazed upon our nakedness.
It was a big one, just as I thought. Not so much longer than yours, or fatter. It was the head that amazed me. A big mushroom shaped thing that spread outside the circumference of the shaft. That was the biggest cock head I had ever seen. The length had a slight gentle curve up bend. It stood up at a steep angle. It amazed me, and gave me ticklish jumpy feelings in my belly. It looked very happy to see me. I couldn't take my eyes from it, and my hand reached on its own to feel. Hard as granite. A slight up bend. That huge mushroom head a shiny red-blue-lavender color. Dennis looked down at my hand holding his cock, and seemed very proud. I knew then we were going to have great fun.
We fell together on the bed and in a tangle of arms and legs enwrapping ourselves we kissed with release to have our fun, our urgent need for consummation. We rolled and tumbled. Big man Dennis hard and heavy against me, on me, beside me. His hands and fingers felt the weight and resilience of my breasts and triggered the response of my nipples. My hand reached for his ass to feel the shape of muscle power. My other hand reached to feel his cock, my forefinger tracing the sweep of that huge mushroom head from outer rim to the pee slit where a large bubble of fluid oozed. His long finger dipped into my cunt and worked about, making slurp sounds in my abundant lubrication. I was a mature, experienced woman, married, ripe to bursting with desire and need for sex with this man.
I pushed him to lie on his back, and got in position to suck him. The heat, the smell of man. I licked the leaking slime to taste it, and it was sweet. I had to open my jaws wider than ever before to admit the huge head. It was a strain to not rake my teeth over the sensitive skin. The unprecedented volume filled my mouth and shut out air to breath. I felt my gag reflex stirring. I lifted my head with a gasp.
"You are a very, very big boy. I don't think I can do this properly."
"You are doing just fine." He said.
But I wasn't. Not with the practiced skill that made Kirk declare I was the best cock sucker he ever had, that long ago night when I had fantasies of being a prostitute. Or of the many times in pure love I deep throated my husband and touched my nose to his pubic hair.
I kissed Dennis' cock, smelled it, licked it, pressed it to my cheek, and said, "Tonight this is all for me."
"Yes. All for you."
"I'm ready."
I lay on my back, ready. He opened a drawer on the side table and took out a condom in foil wrap.
He was prepared. I had this wild thought... With the condoms you gave me, my own box, and now his supply, he could fuck me twenty five times!
He was sheathed and moved to mount me. That is a captivating moment for any woman. Her man getting into position to enter her, she opening herself to feel that first touch of his cock head, its entry into her. It does not matter the number of times she has done this. Every next time is a moment of singular experience rich with renewal. With Dennis, my first other man in my marriage, that moment was rich with sensory awareness multiplied many fold. The blinds were shut, but the sun still not set cast the room in pale light for me to see all.
I put my hands under my knees and pulled them far back and spread them wide, putting my body in a bow, lifting my cunt up in offering. I tilted my head forward to gaze between my spread legs at his advance. A big thick man, broad shoulders and long arms, hairy chest with tiny little nipples, round hairy belly, his latex clad cock a pale glow of massive potential guided by his hand to take me, enter me, use me for his pleasure.
First touch. No cock of that size had ever been in me before. It opened and spread my cunt, it was master of that collapsed potential space that is the female vagina, and it eased into me with that manly domination of absolute control, of male imperative that cannot be altered or reversed. It filled me and stretched me and buried to the full length in me. I clinched my eyes tight and shuddered and heard myself voicing a high pitched cascading trill of surrender and rapture.
