It was at my best friend's graduation party. Diana and I had just finished high school having been accepted to the same university. Both of us were anxious to leave home for college. Neither of us had figured out what we would do once we got there, except for boys of course.
The man standing behind me was Bob Sterling, Diana's dad. He held a drink in one hand, the other on my breast. What do you say to a thirty-nine-year-old man who is caressing your tits while thirty or more people are nearby? I turned abruptly and said, "That's private property, Mr. Sterling."
Apparently, I didn't say it in a disapproving way because it seemed to encourage him. Mr. Sterling pulled me closer for a passionate kiss. He told me how beautiful and mature I looked. He said I had a woman's body, more so than the other girls at the party. Did that mean he knew I wasn't a virgin? Did Diane tell him all her friends were having sex? That's how we justified it with our parents. It didn't matter. Maybe it was instinct or perhaps I had a crush on him, but I kissed him back. I liked the attention and felt so grown up.
That encounter started my affair with Bob Sterling before leaving for college. As it turned out, he wasn't the last affair I had with a married man. There were others and college boys I dated, one-night stands, and a serious boyfriend that I eventually married. This is to say I'm not a prude about sex. I liked it.
Liking sex is different from where I am today which is in my mid-thirties. My marriage with Phil has been good. Our sex life has been okay but not exciting. The truth is that none of my college one-night stands, sex with Phi. or occasional extramarital affairs have given me more than a few orgasms. There has always been something missing, a spiritual ecstasy or euphoric high. I have been a willing and compassionate partner in amicable arrangements. But having sex has only been an arrangement, not the exhilaration of a rollercoaster ride.
Well, that's the past because as I march toward the physical change that steals a woman's fertility, my attitude toward sex has become obsessive. In place of hot flashes, I've had burning sexual desires. The dreaded menopause would have to wait. No, I don't want to get pregnant and have a child. I just want sex and lots of it.
How this intense desire for sexual pleasure happened, I don't know. It seemed to creep up on me slowly, then all at once. However, I remember when it struck me like a lightning bolt. My husband and I were at a friend's birthday party celebrating with people we knew and a few couples we had just met. I don't remember the man's name when he started hitting on me. I didn't care about that, I only imagined wanting to fuck him.
The whole situation surprised the dickens out of me. I'm the chairman of the book club, sing in the church choir, and teach kindergarten kids. I wasn't supposed to act like this. My heart was racing. I began to perspire, and my pussy was dripping wet. As I looked into his steel-grey eyes, I wondered, 'Where did this sudden lust come from?' I mean the guy was nice looking but not overly handsome. He was a little older than me but not old. He put his arms around me, and I didn't object. It gave me a rush of excitement bringing me back to my friend's high school graduation party with Bob Sterling. This time I didn't object and snuggled closer to him. He got the message and asked, "Where can we go to be alone?"
It spiraled out of control. I took him to our van and we fucked our brains out. There was nothing in the way of love or even affection. It was all about our mutual carnal desires. It was the first time I hit the high I had been missing. That was just the beginning, not just with him but with any male with a fervor like mine. They weren't hard to find.
There were a few weeks of guilt after the van affair and I promised myself never to cheat on Phil again but that was only temporary. To begin with, while my libido was at an all-time high, Phil's had been on a steady decline over the past few years. Also, the combination of my hormones boiling over and the excitement of new men acted as a natural aphrodisiac that I couldn't control. It was only a matter of time before I found another lover or a lover found me.
His name was Pedro, our handyman. Ever since I read D.H. Lawrence's "Lady Chatterley's Lover," I fantasized about being Connie and it was my introduction to pornography. The story got me thinking more and more about sex and induced me to begin experimenting with my body as a young woman. Today, the book doesn't seem so obscene as it did when I was younger, but it made me aware that making love was more than hugs and kisses.
So, Pedro became my Mellors. He was two or three years younger than I and not much taller with a muscular chest and powerful arms. His penetrating dark eyes and olive skin qualified him as a hunk. Soon I discovered those were not his only attributes.
One early morning, I discovered that our kitchen sink was stopped up. It was a warm sunny day when I went outside to look for Pedro. Maybe I was too impulsive because all I had on was my nightie, not even a pair of slippers. Pedro was nowhere to be seen so I walked around to the back of the house and spotted him bare-chested peeing in the bushes. That's when I noticed another of his exceptional characteristics. Pedro had a world-class cock winning the blue ribbon in both length and girth. He was every girl's dream. With my middle age condition buzzing between my legs, it was like an open invitation.
I asked, "Why didn't you come inside to use the bathroom, Pedro?"
He tried to cover up, but it was too late. "I thought you were still in bed, Mrs. Kessler. I didn't want to disturb you."
"I would have liked it if you had disturbed me, Pedro." My hint was not lost on him.
"You're a beautiful woman, Mrs. Kessler. Is there something I can do for you?"
"Maybe," I said. "Maybe there is something I can do for you." I didn't have the kitchen sink in mind when I said it
He just smiled and walked closer to me. His zipper was still open, and he hadn't completely pocketed his dick, so I had no trouble taking his full length down my throat. It took only a few minutes before I heard him groaning, then shooting streams of cum filling my mouth. There is a certain gratification in pleasuring a man and feel his cum blasting the back of my throat. After a half dozen powerful shots, some of it began to leak from my lips. I swallowed what I could and let the rest drip on the grass.
I looked up at him and said, "I guess we're fertilizing the lawn this morning."
He gave me that electric smile and said nothing. After helping me up from my knees, Pedro zipped up and went back to work. I floated back to the house and took my morning shower. The next morning, Pedro was less concerned about disturbing me and joined me in the bedroom. He was everything I had hoped for and more in the two hours we were together. Although he was paid by the hour, the extra time was worth every penny.
What I learned from my month with Pedro before he returned to his wife and kids in Trinidad was that size matters but not exclusively. Yes, the physical pleasures were extraordinary but there was a serenity and sensual pleasure from his tenderness and thoughtfulness. Pedro wanted me to enjoy having sex at least as much as he did. Every act he performed was for my benefit as well as his. Pedro knew how to use his gifts to help me feel enchanted and fulfilled. I never felt what we were doing was wrong or cheap. Pedro made me feel tranquil from the joy of having a man so well-endowed deep inside me. I miss him even now.
After Pedro left, I was somewhat disoriented. At first, all I could think of was Pedro but that's not all. I still had powerful urges and wanted more than the little Phil was giving me. Then I ran into Stanley. Stanley was the exact opposite of Pedro. He was studious, thin, geeky-looking, taller than the Eiffel Tower, and extremely nervous around me. For both a challenge and a way to satisfy my sexuality, I decided to seduce this awkward man.
Stanley was the twenty-six-year-old manager of Sports 4U specializing in clothing. Shopping for clothes was a passion of mine so Stanley knew me as one of his better customers. Stanley made a point of greeting me each time I was in the store.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Kessler," he said shyly. We have a new line of Beach Bunny designer swimwear. I think you'll like what they've done with this year's styles."
