Must You Solve Everything With Sex

"Must you solve everything with sex, Lisa?" Danica asked me with a savvy smile on her face.

"Didn't it work?" I had just told her how I got a very resistant client into bed, bringing him to finally sign a contract it seemed he never would.

The client was Joseph Worthington, a senior partner who inherited his position, but made the most of it. His company had recently merged with another. The products this other company made relied on the advertisement made by my firm. Since they merged, we had been trying to represent the whole conglomerate, but Mr. Worthington was standing in our way, maintaining his loyalty to their traditional advertisement friends. Until now, that is.

"This was easy for you, wasn't it?" Danica asked me.

"Let me tell you something, hon. The only real problem a woman has is keeping the power to choose who will touch her and who will never do," I made that remark juggling my tits a little.

Since Danica's breasts are also really big, and she's far from being a saint, I knew she would take it in the right way, even though her tits are fake and mine aren't. Not everyone can naturally fill a 36DD.

"I chose him. Of course it was easy, and I obviously enjoyed it," I had cum only once, which was a bit disappointing since I was responsible for that and it is so easy to make me cum. But I did enjoy the whole thing. Danica made sure she got every detail, down to the curvature of his penis.

"This move had its risks for him, though. You better not fuck with him,"

"No worries, honey, I never fuck with who fucks me," I assured Danica.

XXXXXXX

When I sat on the car – and a sharp enjoyable pain brought part of the fun to my mind – the cell rang. It was my husband, Charlie, and sex vanished from my mind completely.

He was pestering me for no real reason: checking again if I would get the kids at school – like we had confirmed that morning! The annoying sensation didn't last, though. Another message came in. A photo of that client's cock ready and willing. It was not tempting now, but it was funny anyway.

Arriving at the firm I was a bit aroused again, now from my share of that contract. When I dropped it on my boss's desk she seemed impressed, but also gave me the "you slut" look. Fabiana wasn't being literal. She has no idea of how much a slut I really am – although she does keep me from meeting her husband even at office parties. Some would say that's smart, although I really have better and more interesting meat at my disposal. The problem here was really that everybody thought I would not succeed with this client. I did. What a bitch am I...

To be fair, she could be also disapproving my choice of clothes. I came directly to the office with those papers. That meant I was still wearing what I chose for Joseph that day. I flaunted my 5ft. 9 on top of very high heels, emphasizing hips and butt that ran proudly in the family. A dominating figure in an office environment is addictive. Add the revealing cleavage (my breasts pumping out since I leaned on her desk putting the papers down) and the tight short skirt. Simple and efficient. Shameless.

Her jealousy was not unwelcome. I was happy to feel hotter than her – and at least she was no racist, as my previous boss was.

Other than that, the rest of the day was pretty normal. Finished other responsibilities at the office, got the girls at school, arranged dinner, minded the clothes and the mess, watched a movie snuggled with the family, partly deflected come-ons from various potential or ex-lovers on the phone and the internet, and closed the night with unexpected marital sex.

Perhaps I was extra-hot after fucking Joseph and longing for more – sex begets sex, as I always say. The rarity of such an occasion (Charlie being horny) didn't make it special. Also, such rarity didn't hurt my feelings anymore. On the contrary, I now felt hot that even my husband of 12 years still wanted sex now and then...

I saw he was planning something right away. He was more attentive the whole night, washed the dishes without making a fuss about it, caressed during the whole movie. Our five-year old, Candice, the youngest, asked to sleep on our bed, but he denied it. That was overkill. He was always soft for them asking to sleep with us, although he knew perfectly well I was against it. Whenever he made them sleep in their bedroom he was wanting some loving. He locked the door and looked at me with a smile.

"What?" I asked.

"Come here," he began caressing me, he was very tender, but also started rubbing me with his semi-erected cock. He knew that caressing his cock would be a reflex.

My husband knew how to provoke me, how to give me pleasure, how to make me cum. He would do all that, but it was obvious he was really there to satisfy his arousal, that excitement he had since he arrived, maybe even before. A new hot colleague? Some memory on the way home? Who cares? I freed that cock from his shorts, that nice cock of his, with his tender clear skin and his big pink foreskin, a bit wider that the rest of his dick.

He was not as big as Joseph's, he was thinner. I liked it anyway. Immediately I started playing with it, provoking with the tip of my tongue, caressing his balls with my tits. His cock started to pulse with his doubt between forcing my mouth or going down to fuck my tits, which he loved to do. I laughed, and let my nightgown slide completely to the floor. I knew he'd like that. Since he was so lustful that evening, I chose one of his favorites: a white silky one. It's contrast dancing down my skin made his hips thrust at my face.

His desire moved me, and I came down with my mouth with hunger, as if trying to suck his soul out. I went on him so hard that he moaned too loud and I had to stop in a second.

We laughed again. I made up for having to stop so suddenly by linking it's whole body, always with my eyes locked on his and my tongue out for show. Then I let him slide his dick between my tits. I started to press against my chest, my breasts making his hard cock almost disappear and then come up again, very close to my mouth. I didn't leak it. I was enjoying the provocation myself. But I was fucking him ever harder. I looked up with a wicked smile, knowing I could make him cum like that.

He slapped my face for that. My hands on my own tits, pressing his cock, he slapped again. I kept smiling at him and he hit me harder. When his hand came again I instinctively protected myself with one arm. He grabbed it, took my other arm and made me stand.

"I missed hitting you, bitch," He slapped me again.

"Did you miss it?" Another slap, always on the same side, so I couldn't help but protect myself, which turned him on, and made me so wet I could feel it even down my thighs.

"Yes," I replied ignoring the stinging pain of the slap.

He threw me on the bed. My legs went up in the air. As they came down he grabbed them and pushed them up again, going down on me forcefully. I never minded technique on this matter. What I care about is feeling someone determined to eat me up and drink me completely, and my husband had always had that talent. His tongue tasted my pussy all over and went directly into me, hot, hard, wet, leaking and searching for every bit of me. And I gave myself completely.

He really knows how to eat me up. I came so hard I almost didn't have time to grab the sheets and bite them in order to control, at least a bit, the urging groan that came out of my body as it exploded in pleasure and heat. My mind got so high I almost forgot where I was. When I looked down, I was nearly surprised to see my husband there, his face forced against my thighs, her tongue still exploring my body, forcing me to keep cum – not that I would care by then who was making me contort myself with pleasure. I stretched one of my arms trying to push his head away, as my body begged for a moment to breath, while my other hand was clawing his skin, grabbing him to come ever inside of me and never stop.

I eventually had to let go of the sheets and my voice was out of control. I was begging, although I really didn't know for what, but I could hear my voice getting thinner and louder. He used the arm I was hurting with my fingers and shut my mouth forcefully. He got more excited. I could feel it in my cunt. His mouth had some renewed energy, and my body began thrusting by itself until he couldn't hold it any longer.

My thighs forced him away as my butt went to our left, my clit aching. His hand couldn't reach my mouth anymore, so I gasped for air, then left a little smile out as he himself laughed looking at my desperate pleasure.

But that was a split second. He took the opportunity to hold the back of one thigh and near my heel. He made me clearly because he didn't believe he would last long after the tits and the slaps.

He flipped my whole body, forcing me down on my stomach, my butt completely turned up for him. For a moment I feared he would look at my butt hole and somehow noticed that Joseph had fucked me there just a few hours back, but obviously he didn't. That did bring to my mind, though, that Joseph had cum inside the condom, which made me long a little more for my husband's cum inside of me.

Charlie positioned himself on top of me, his legs touching mine a bit, his arm laying most of his weight on my back as the other hand controlled his cock, aiming and touching my pussy. As he rubbed it, I remembered Joseph opening me up earlier, his thick cock stretching my cunt wide. Wet again, and not just from the last orgasm.

However, after cumming I seem to become tighter, or at least I feel that way. Charlie could be my first man as far I as knew but the sensation of that hard dick forcing its way in my body. I could his weighted even more as he adjusted his hand on back, his thighs and knees rubbing my butt to come ever deeper.

I could feel his other hand on my voluminous hair, trying to make a tight unified group he could pull without hurting me. Soon he did it. My head went up, and my body caught on fire. My breasts jolted I front of me as he thrust his hips against my butt. My back would hurt from his first hand weighing near my waist, contorting me, but he soon got his feet beside my butt. He used that hand to slap me again.

"You little bitch, I love seeing that big rack on that nightgown. You know that don't you, my bitch?" He squeezed one breast until coming to the nipple and pressed it until it hurt.

I tried to say yes, but just moaned. His thrusts became more wild and forceful. He slapped me again, now on my bouncing tit. My breathing was pretty heavy, but I began moaning. He put a pillow in front of me and violently forced my head against it. I was buried there, part of his weight now on my nape. I couldn't breathe, no matter how hard my body needed it. I could only feel his cock getting harder with every slap he landed on my butt. He said something about my ass, but I was incapable of understanding words now. Then he came, great strong loads of it, and that made me cum again. Even with the pillow sucked in my mouth I could hear my groan dominate the bedroom.

He let go of my hair, so I found some air tilting my head to my right. He collapsed on me, his sweated warm body resting on mine, his cock still filling me, every time a little less. I gladly welcomed both his whole weight and his semen. After maybe a minute in that situation I found it funny how unexpected this was. It was so rare to cum twice with him now. Even to simply have sex, actually.

Joseph could have been much worse also. Fucking for profit and finding a thick dick with some decent technique was too much luck! That was it. I was feeling lucky. We heard a knock on the door. I felt Charlie suddenly slip from inside of me and that really made me a little sad. He slapped my ass.

"I think you woke them up," He knew it wasn't true. They never slept in their bedrooms without complaining a little more, "Cover that ass, darling."

I got up. Charlie was putting on his shorts. I glanced at his petite shiny white butt as he covered it.

"I'm taking a shower," I told him.

I heard Julia, our older daughter, complaining that Candice wouldn't sleep. That always happened when we insisted they had to sleep in their bedroom. Charlie began to take care of the matter.

I looked my satisfied body on the mirror and said to myself "That's my slut," I winked at myself and got into the shower caressing my body for no apparent reason other than I was feeling so good. I felt the water cooling my neck, my chest, my stomach, and heard no more. A very lucky night. I would never suspect then the increasingly powerful consequences of winning that client.