An Average Fuc

Like most young horny guys I, Tom Collins (my real first name is Clarence but thankfully nobody calls me that -- I get chuckles when I introduce myself by my nickname "Tom"), had as one of my main goals in life an athletic fantastic fuck with a sexy woman. I didn't care whether I liked her personality, or what her color, ethnic background, or religion (or lack thereof) was, as long as she was hot, had a tight pussy, and was like an animal in the sack. Of course if she was also rich that wouldn't hurt (ha, ha), but that was too much to hope for.

Since I'm good looking (nature's doing, not mine), in good physical shape (my doing), and was wealthy until cut off after college graduation at age twenty two (my parents' doing, mine only partially) I never had any trouble getting pussy.

For many years -- primarily during and after college -- I rated women on how good a fuck they were. They say that there is no bad sex, and I found that to be true, so I started my rating system at 5 and topped it out at 10. I only found one woman who was a 10 fuck and that almost got me killed. I honestly did know that she was married and her six foot five inch 295 pound weightlifter husband missed catching me by less than a minute. It took me a week to recover from the trauma of that near miss.

I found many sevens, eights, and nines in my quest to fuck as many women as possible in an attempt to find a 10 that was not married who I could start a real relationship with, but even though at age 26 I had not yet found one I was enjoying the quest.

After my first job out of college turned rancid I got a job working as a "troubleshooter" for the CEO of ZTY Inc., a corporation with about two hundred fifty employees. I didn't actually like my boss, a very good looking guy by the name of Nate Burleson, very much but he did pay me significantly above market rate and the work was interesting and challenging. One of the things that I didn't like about Nate was that he was a philanderer.

You probably think me hypocritical for disliking Nate because he chased women when I was doing the same thing. There was one major difference between us, however. He was married; I had every intention of being monogamous once I found that unmarried 10 fuck, and the way that Nate went about it was crude.

Nate was married to Julie Stevens (she kept her maiden name), a woman my age, and eleven years younger than Nate. Julie isn't beautiful, but she sure is cute. In fact, although it's so cliché that it's stupid but I'm going to say it anyway, if you look up "cute" in the dictionary there is a photo of Julie holding a new puppy. By the time that I had been working for ZTY about a year I had meet Julie three or four times and I liked her; she was personable, kind, and empathetic.

About fourteen months after I started with ZTY Nate called me into his office and closed and locked his office door. He only did that when he had some "clandestine" mission for me, namely one he didn't want the other employees or the board of directors to know about.

"Tom I really need you to do something for me; it's not during work hours but there's a bonus in it for you and it shouldn't be unpleasant," Nate grinned.

"OOOOKKKK..." I cautiously replied.

"I need you to take Julie to some awards dinner on Saturday night..." Nate started out before I interruptted him.

"Why can't you?" I blurted out.

He raised and then lowered his eyebrows like I saw in old Groucho Marx movies. "I've got something better going," he giggled. Yeah, a guy in his thirties, the CEO of a company, giggled like a teenage girl.

"No can do," I replied crossing my arms. "I have a first date Saturday Night with Ashley, a woman I really want to impress and it will be the kiss of death to cancel on her."

"Look dude, if you cancel your date I'll pay for you to take Ashley to the most expensive restaurant in town next weekend -- I'll even provide a limo for you," Nate pleaded.

I did want to impress Ashley -- given her body and flirtatiousness she might be the elusive unmarried 10 fuck that I was looking for. Plus, I liked Julie -- though I didn't like facilitating Nate's cheating -- so it wasn't like it was going to be a bad time. After silence for a full minute of batting things back-and-forth in my mind, with my arms still crossed, and with Nate looking at me like an expectant puppy would a dog biscuit, I replied "The dinner is going to have to be at Au Revoir Mon Amis and you're going to have to get me a reservation at 7 p. m. Saturday night because they're always booked up and you'll have to pull some strings."

With a big smile Nate replied "You got it dude; consider it done. Now here are the details for Saturday night with Julie..."

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I called Ashley that same afternoon and silver tongue devil that I am told her about Au Revoir Mon Amis next Saturday before breaking the news that I had to cancel this Saturday for a "command work performance." She had always wanted to go to Au Revoir Mon Amis (which has two Michelin stars, the most for a restaurant in at least a 200 mile radius) so I actually gained brownie points with the switch rather than getting a cold shoulder and no chance at a possible 10 fuck.

I picked Julie up Saturday at 6:30 as planned. I had had my car detailed, hoping that it would tell her that I was looking forward to the night rather than being forced into it by Nate. She was dressed nicely in a high-end summer dress (that's what I called it, but I'm no expert on fashion so I don't know if there even is such a thing) with a diamond choker, her hair in a pixie cut, three inch heels that matched her dress, and a bracelet that matched her choker. Once again I thought "her photo with a puppy in her arms should be the definition of 'cute!'"

It turns out that the main recipient at the awards dinner was Julie herself. She is so modest that she never even told me that when I called to ask if I could take her to the dinner since Nate couldn't, nor did she mention it in the car on the way over. She did compliment me on how clean and fresh my car was, making the detailing worthwhile. We never ran out of things to talk about, however -- she was charming rather than being sullen that I was substituting for her husband which was a reaction that many women would justifiably have.

The dinner was hosted by the largest non-profit in our metropolitan area; Julie got the award for volunteer of the year. So many people said so many nice things about her empathetic character and personality, and her dedication and hard work, that I could tell that she was embarrassed but always humble and gracious. Many people there thought that I was her husband -- apparently no one from the charity had ever met Nate -- and the first few times I corrected people but after a while I didn't bother and just accepted their congratulations on having such a special woman as my wife.

There was dancing in addition to the dinner, and Julie literally glowed when I danced with her. "Nate never wants to dance," she shyly said at one point, "and I really love it." She seemed to fit nicely in my arms when there were slow dances.

When I dropped Julie back at her house at the end of the evening I swear that there was a small tear in her eye. "Thank you so much Tom, I know you probably gave up a date to take me, but I really appreciate being able to go with someone -- it would have been so awkward for me alone. You're a great guy and I hope it wasn't too painful for you."

"Actually I had a great time too," I smiled.

Julie kissed me on the cheek and then said "Thank you for saying that even if you didn't mean it."

I squeezed her hand and smiled widely before I turned to leave.

In my car the strangest feeling came over me. I realized that I really meant it when I said that I had had a great time. I considered Julie a friend; a valuable friend.

That night in bed I dreamt wildly. I didn't remember much of what I dreamt the next morning -- I just knew that I had -- but the few things I did remember about my dreams were puzzling.

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It turns out that my taking Julie to her event and then taking Ashley to Au Revoir Mon Amis worked out great. I had a wonderful time with Julie, and Ashley was so impressed with the limo ride and the dinner at the most prestigious restaurant within 200 miles that she insisted that the limo drop me off with her at her apartment.

While Ashley was very willing and appreciative, I was slightly disappointed that she wasn't the 10 fuck that I was looking for, although she was a solid 8. Since I didn't have any hotter prospects at that time, and since I thought that she might ultimately become a 10, I started a low key relationship with her.

While I thought only of Ashley when fucking her, for some reason my mind often thought of Julie. I noticed a warm feeling came over me whenever I thought of her; I really couldn't tell why.

If I thought that I would only see Julie at firm events that spouses and significant others were invited to that idea was proven false when a month after the awards dinner Nate called me into his closed-door office for another "clandestine" talk.

"Say, dude," Nate started out -- causing me to wonder "what CEO of a company calls his employee 'dude'" -- "Julie says that she had a great time with you at the awards dinner, and I need your help again. This weekend I have to go out of town on business," he said doing that Grouch Marx eyebrow thing again with a diabolical smile on his face "and Julie has another command performance at a cause ball that she is in charge of." The term "cause ball" is Nate's dismissive nomenclature for a dance that raises money for charity. "Dude, I really need you to take her."

Surprising myself I immediately asked "When is it?"

"Friday night at the Hilton Hotel; I guess around 7 o'clock."

I had plans to fuck Ashley Saturday night and she probably was expecting Friday too, but we hadn't really made plans for that, so I thought "Why not?"

"OK -- but what do I get in return?" I asked; I didn't really need anything but I didn't want him to think that I was a pushover either.

He paid for my night out with Ashley on Saturday, not at Au Revoir Mon Amis but at a decent restaurant and club, before I took Ashley back to her apartment for some carnal activities.

Again Julie looked like the epitome of cute when I picked her up. We had very interesting conversations all night, fun interacting with other people at the event, and enjoyable body contact when dancing. I never corrected even one person who assumed that I was her husband, and beamed with pride when she gave a five minute speech about how worthwhile the cause was and how much the donations from the guests would contribute to educational activities for underprivileged children.

During our discussions on the way home Julie mentioned something about a movie that she wanted to see that Nate had no interest in. "I might go to a matinee tomorrow," she mused, "although I hate going alone and none of the friends I contacted were available."

"I'd like to see it too; let's go together," I announced almost before the word "available" had left her lips. That took me aback; "Where the fuck did that come from?" I lamented to myself.

"Would you really," Julie grinned. "That would be so much fun!"

I got another kiss on the cheek when I dropped her off at her house and when I drove back to my apartment I had a talk with myself. "What the fuck was that volunteering to go to the movie with her, asshole. I know that you like her as a friend, but isn't that a little inappropriate since she's your boss' wife? and why the fuck is your face flushed?"

That night I again had intense dreams, and was almost still exhausted when I woke up. Again the only parts of the dreams that I remembered were a little disturbing, and I slapped my own face.

My movie "date" with Julie, while Nate was still out of town undoubtedly fucking some bimbo, was extremely pleasant, but afterward I got disturbed with myself for going with my boss' wife and especially with acting like a teenager as we used two straws to consume a milkshake together at a soda fountain afterwards.

My afternoon "date" with Julie became a much bigger problem, however, when Saturday night when I was fucking Ashley for the first time in my life when I was having an 8 fuck I was thinking of someone else.

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Over the next three months I started living a bizarre life. I saw Julie at least once a week, often just for lunch on a weekday or for a bicycle ride or hike on a Saturday afternoon. I really liked her, and it was clear that she liked me too. I felt a warm glow when I was with her; I had never felt like that before and didn't have the brain or emotional power or experience to properly interpret it.

For some reason, even though Ashley wasn't the 10 fuck that I was interested in to establish my first real long term relationship, I really needed the sex and she was very willing so I continued to date her, usually spending one weeknight and one or two weekend nights a week at her apartment.

Then came a cataclysmic event.

I had another closed door meeting with Nate when he advised me that he was again going away that weekend (clear that he was fucking some other bimbo) and needed me to take Julie to another one of her charity events. This time while I pretended that it was a big burden I "reluctantly" agreed without any quid pro quo. I made arrangements with Julie to pick her up at 6:30 p. m. that Friday.

When I got to Julie's mini-mansion at 6:25 when I rang the doorbell she answered with shorts and a tank top on. I was puzzled. "I thought...thought...that this was a black tie...uh...event," I stammered as I stood on her front stoop in a tuxedo. "Did I get the time and dress wrong?"

"No you didn't," Julie chuckled. "Come on in; a change of plans."

This was the first time that I had actually been in Nate and Julie's house. It was expensively and tastefully decorated. "Come sit down in the living room," Julie said, taking my hand and leading me to a couch in her living room.

As we sat down next to each other Julie was still holding my hand -- I didn't pull away.

"Tom, I think that you -- and almost anyone else who knows Nate well -- knows that he cheats on me."

That caused me to open my eyes wide.

"I haven't had the self-confidence to slam him for it; that is I haven't until I went with you to the awards dinner when Nate was undoubtedly fucking some floozy. Over the last few months you've given me the self-confidence to not take it anymore. I want to thank you for that and to tell you that I'd like a romantic relationship with you. There is no event tonight; I just told Nate there was one so that he'd ask you to go with me."

I'm not really sure how long I sat there staring into Julie's aquamarine eyes. I know that many things swirled through my pea brain before what occurred next happened, but I can't recall what they were. I do know that at some point I smashed my lips into hers, that some of the studs in my shirt ripped the buttonholes, that my cumberbund was destroyed, and that I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Julie had nothing on under her shorts and tank top.

Her couch was not the most comfortable place for fucking, but that made no difference to me. I pumped with the intensity of a tidal wave as I deposited what seemed like a liter of cum in her pussy. After we both came down from our orgasms we stayed enmeshed in each other's arms.

When my brain recovered from my orgasm two disturbing thoughts ran through my mind. The first contemplation was disappointing; physically the fuck was average -- only a six or seven on my scale of from 5 to 10; she wasn't a tiger and her cooch wasn't really that tight. My second rumination was "I've never felt this good." I was truly puzzled -- maybe even gobsmacked.

When Julie tenderly kissed me she said "You could take me to the guest room," I quickly lifted her naked body up and carried her up the stairs to the first door on the right. Then I did something that I had never done before; she looked so cute, so vulnerable, so optimistic, that I started eating her pussy. I had never before eaten a pussy I had just fucked; I finger-fucked her with one hand while simultaneously licking and gumming her clit, and massaging her labia with my other hand. She came fiercely twice before I let up and then buried my now stiff cock again.

The second time I fucked her she was basically out of it, only participating by mumbling terms of joy and endearment. After I came and finally withdrew again my thought was "That fuck was also average," but again I was puzzled as to why I felt so, so, good!

I stayed the night in bed with Julie. I think that I slept as soundly as at any other point in my life. When I woke up an hour later than usual the next morning Julie's cute face was smiling at me. "Thank you so much Tom," she said with a tear in her eye. "I really needed that."

It may have been the first time in my life that a woman genuinely thanked me for fucking her. That thought had no sooner left my brain when I said "I'm not done with you yet!"

I immediately started sucking her tits while she giggled, then tongued her clit again until she spasmed, then once more buried my rock hard cock in her cooch and started stroking. Once again she wasn't wild or tight, and physically the fuck was average, but once more a warm feeling overcame me from head to toe.

After showering together, with much kissing and hand play but no penetration, after we dried off we went to the kitchen where we remained naked and Julie made blueberry pancakes and pork sausage, my favorite breakfast.

After breakfast Julie sat on my lap -- which became harder to do the longer she sat because my cock was gradually stiffening again -- put her arms around my neck, and asked "Can this be the start of a romantic relationship Tom? I really enjoy your company and what you did to me last night and this morning gave me the most special and serene feeling that I'd ever had."

"What about Nate?" I asked, not wanting to be a Debbie Downer, but wanting to see if I was just going to be a long term revenge fuck.

"I don't love Nate anymore because of his cheating and how dismissively he treats me. If I have a better option, I'll take it."

With that she kissed me. The kisses turned passionate, and soon after the first kiss she was sitting on my lap facing away from me with my cock so far up her cooch that it was trying to tickle her tonsils, and I was lightly twisting her nipples. This time she came even more forcefully than the first three times, and I swear that she was actually comatose for a few seconds.

I left Julie's house about 11 a. m. with another kiss and a promise to think about our relationship going forward.

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After I left Julie's house that Saturday morning to say that I was confused was possibly the understatement of my life. I couldn't sort out my feelings. I decided to call Jim Crowell, one of my fraternity brothers, and best friend, from college. We were probably the two biggest horn dogs on campus, and I was surprised when he got married about two years out of college. I was in his wedding (and boinked a bridesmaid -- who was an eight) and was surprised at how happy he seemed.

"While if it isn't my favorite drink," Jim chuckled when he answered his cellphone, obviously reading "Tom Collins" on his caller ID.

We hadn't talked for a couple of months so we spent a good ten minutes catching up. Then I got serious.

"Jim, I'm really confused. I need your take on something because I've never felt so conflicted before. As you know I'm after the perfect fuck before I get married, but I've met this woman who physically is just an average fuck, but when I'm around her -- even if we aren't fucking -- I feel really good. I don't know how to interpret it..." I was going to say more but his laughter interrupted me.