A Wife's First Date

This is the Third Chapter to A Wife's First Date. It chronicles the next step in a wife's first time with another man. I want to thank Ken Nitsua again for his helpful editing assistance. I hope you enjoy.

As she entered the room, her pulse quickened. She felt nervous, but alive with excitement. Peter, as he had introduced himself to her earlier, greeted her with a kiss that suddenly evolved into a passionate embrace as their tongues danced together. His soft, warm lips felt strange, but wonderful. Her husband was a great kisser but this was different. Peter was confident and forceful, with a controlled touch that promised highly developed skills as a lover.

He broke off their kiss and looked at her.

"I am so glad you came."

She looked around the huge, luxurious suite and focused on the bottle of pinot noir on the table, open with two glasses.

"How did you know I would?"

"I could see it in your eyes."

She blushed. Despite her confidence in her ability to control her emotions and her body language, her eyes had given her away. She started to protest, but realized how that would sound. She was the one who had shown up at his suite, key card in hand and her panties soaked with anticipation.

Peter kissed her again, more gently. She felt a twinge of emotional conflict, thinking about her love for her husband, her marriage, and the guilt of infidelity. She remembered her husband's encouragement and years of sincere requests that she give both of them this gift of her pleasure. She only had to give herself permission. As she melted in Peter's arms, she finally granted herself that freedom - the freedom to enjoy this strong, handsome male--the freedom to satisfy a craving her husband could no longer quench.

Peter parted from her lips and looked into her willing eyes.

"Turn around and pull down your tights and panties."

"What the fuck?" would have been her normal reaction. Instead of resisting, she felt the power of his voice and obeyed, charged with new, electric feelings of giving up the control she had always maintained over every aspect of her life.

She turned, lifted her black dress, and reached into the waistband of her black opaque tights and her black bikini panties. She eased them down below her knees.

"Bend over and put your hands on the arm of the chair in front of you."

Feeling strangely under his control, she shuffled the few feet to the chair, her legs bound close together by the tights bunched a few inches above her high-heeled black suede booties.

As she bent over to place her hands on the chair, she noticed that her face and body were reflected in the mirrored bedroom door slightly ajar in front of her. Seeing her reflection in this exposed position only served to accelerate the butterflies dancing in her stomach, down through her loins to her weakened knees. She hoped that he would just take her there, claiming her extramarital virginity in one quick motion. The erotic tension was palpable as she waited exposed and vulnerable, her mind racing. She felt a drop of the nectar of her arousal run down the inside of her thigh.

After staying still and silent, exposed in this position for what seemed like a lifetime, she felt Peter's hand lift the hem of her dress, folding it over onto her back. His hand then parted her thighs and reached under her, gently caressing the exposed lips of her pussy, slick with her juices.

"Nice. I was hoping you would be smoothly shaved. You really are a naughty one."

She gasped slightly. "I had it waxed as a treat for my husband. We are supposed to go away for a special weekend next week for our anniversary."

He increased the pressure of his slow and still gentle strokes.

"Lovely. Why did you come to my room?"

"Because, uh... you told me to come."

"Do you always do as you're told?"

He parted her lips with his fingers, softly stroking the inside of her lips as her juices coated his hand. She was now panting, her words breathless as she answered.

"No, I am uuh, always in charge. I am in charge of my business, I am in charge of my social life, and I am in charge of my marriage."

She let out a guttural moan as he lengthened his strokes, reaching further toward her front and passing gently over her now swollen clit.

He said, softly, "I never go after married women, but I had to approach you. You are too beautiful and too sexy to be stuck with a husband who is boring in bed and can't keep you satisfied."

"My husband is a great person, a wonderful lover, and definitely not boring in bed. I love him very much. "

"Then why are you are bent over in front of a stranger, letting him stroke your married pussy?"

"He, uhhh, knows..."

"What do you mean, he knows?"

His questions would normally have been distracting, but confessing to him combined with his skilled, rhythmic stroking of her only heightened her arousal. "H-he knows I am with you."

"You are a naughty girl. So, you have played this game before?"

She gasped as he slipped his thumb into her, pressing against her front wall. His fingers rubbed her clit. He dragged his thumb over her perfect spot with each stroke. She shook with pleasure and the realization that this man knew his way around.

"No, this is the first time I have done anything like this since we started dating."

"Lucky me. Why now?"

She did not respond but continued to writhe on his invading thumb.

"Answer me."

"It's complicated."

Peter pulled his hand from her pussy. She followed it with her upturned ass, trying unsuccessfully to maintain the friction.

"Please don't stop!" she begged, her voice hoarse with desire.

"Answer me when I ask you a question."

"My husband is a wonderful lover, but he is sexually submissive. This is so embarrassing."

He reentered her push with his thumb and started to rub her clit with his fingers.

She moved against his hand, moaning, "thank you."

"Tell me everything."

"He tries to take control and be dominant to indulge me, but I just can't feel it. All I can do is picture him dressed in panties, stockings, a dress, and heels, cuter than mine. Not only is he submissive, but he is also likes to dress in women's clothing. He adores me, and I love him and enjoy dominating him sexually, but he just can't satisfy my other need no matter how hard he tries. I indulge his feminine side, but can't really shift gears and think of him as a real man who can take me and be in control. I think of him more as a girlfriend. I know he would rather be dressed as a girl, feminine and frilly, and I just can't get around it. He would do anything for my pleasure. He has always encouraged me to satisfy my need with other men, but I have always felt too guilty about violating my wedding vows and too sure that I would never be able to find someone who was not an asshole or a bad person. I realize it might not look like it right now, but I have always been very picky and kind of a sexual snob"

She began to thrust backward against his hand.

"What do you need?"

She did not answer immediately.

Peter reached under her and pinched her clit firmly between his fingers, causing her to squeal.

"Tell me!"

She cried out, "I need to be taken by a real man. I need to give up control and submit to him in all the ways I can't with my husband."

Peter resumed fucking her with his thumb and furiously stroking her clit. She shook with renewed pleasure and began riding his hand.

"I can give you what you need."

"I know," she moaned loudly as she came violently on his hand, her juices soaking his hand with each spasm.

Finally, she collapsed over the chair as the contractions softened, leaving her like a puppet on his fingers, which were still moving slowly deep inside of her. She lingered, trying to recover from the explosive release of the erotic tension that had been building in her since he handed her his room key in the bar.

She did not feel guilt or regret. She felt alive, and deliciously naughty. She knew immediately that she craved more of this man--much more.

He slowly slid his fingers out of her, giving her upturned ass a squeeze on the way out.

"Stand and walk into the bedroom."

She stood and bent to take her boots off. His hand stopped her.

"I did not tell you to take off your boots. Walk to the bedroom."

Embarrassed, she shuffled to the bedroom, the tights around her ankles hobbling her. Once there she hesitated, wondering what next.

"Sit on the bed and undress me." He had followed her in.

She sat on the edge of the bed, facing him. She unbuttoned his custom-made dress shirt, revealing a clean, bright white t-shirt underneath. After laying his shirt across the bench at the foot of the bed, she pulled the t-shirt up and over his head, revealing his taut torso and chest, lightly dusted with salt and pepper hair, a body of refined masculinity. Excited, she began to unbuckle his belt.

"Take off my shoes first."

She bent down and untied each of his shoes and slipped them off. She then returned to finish unbuckling his belt. She unbuttoned his pants and pulled his zipper down to reveal crisp white cotton boxers. Having learned that he was an orderly man with refined taste in clothing, she pulled his pants down as he stepped out of them and laid them across the bench.

"May I take off your boxers?"

He nodded. She pulled them down, her eyes widening as she freed the most gorgeous cock she had ever seen. It was remarkably thick and substantial, not grotesquely long but remarkably thick. Mostly erect, it had a large head rimmed by a pronounced soft ridge, giving way to a girthy shaft, beautifully marbled with veins under stretched skin. Lust surging in her, she reached out to touch it.

"Stop! I did not give you permission to touch."

"May I touch it?" she responded, looking up at him.

"May you touch what?"

"May I touch your beautiful cock?"

He nodded. She reached out with both of her hands and softly took the sculpted wonder, now the sole focus of her lustful cravings. It felt heavy in her hands as it began to grow harder in response. She held the base with one hand and gently slid her other hand around his shaft. She slid it up toward the crown, feeling the ridge surrounding it softly pull against the skin of her palm and fingers.

Her husband undoubtedly was nicely equipped but this was a remarkable model of masculinity. She loved taking her husband into her mouth to make him hard enough to pleasure her, but, even when he had previously been allowed to have a male orgasm, she very rarely sucked him to completion, preferring to preserve his erection for her riding pleasure.

This, however, was a real man's cock, never confined in satiny panties, never shrunken by those pretty panties and feminine desires, and never restrained from expressing the ecstasy of male release or giving pleasure in return.

She leaned forward, eager to taste it and have it fill her warm soft mouth, but caught herself and looked up at him again with a smile.

"May I suck your beautiful cock?"

He again nodded his assent. Holding the base with both hands, she leaned forward and took the tip into her mouth. Through the haze of her desire, she noticed that she had to open wider to receive him and that she had to be careful to cover her teeth with her lips as they stretched around the head. She looked up and playfully squeezed the tip out from between her lips, letting it bounce against her chin. She reached out and lifted it with her tongue and took it between her beautiful lips again; this time keeping it in the warmth of her mouth.

She slowly took more of his cock in her mouth, pulling back slightly with each bit of progress and swirling her warm, wet tongue around the sensitive head, before pushing her mouth further down his length. He grew harder in response, moaning with pleasure.

She stopped, her mouth filled with cock to the limits of her ability. She tried to further relax and open her throat to take more of him, and provide pleasure worthy of this magnificent organ. Backing out and pushing back down with increasing frequency, she began to progress further down his viewed shaft with each downward stroke. His firm crown filled the back of her throat, causing her to gag, but she was able to control the spasms to the point where they only served to further stimulate him.

"Fuck that feels good!"

His words encouraged her. Just as she finally approached the absolute limits of her mouth and throat, he gently pushed her off.

"Turn around and climb on the bed."

As her mouth slid off his cock, she could not resist wrapping her lips around his tip and sucking softly, causing an audible pop as his cock pulled free. An audible groan of pleasure rewarded her efforts.

She obediently turned and crawled up on the bed, laying her head and chest down on the sheets and presenting her ass and eager pussy.