(This story is the property of its author, H. K. Smythe. Any unauthorized reproduction or reprint without the express authorization of the author is strictly prohibited.)
The Man in Charge
Albert Maxwell Wilson, Jr.
Growing up my dad was always in charge of things. That included what we had for breakfast, what clothes we wore, everything. My mother was a bit on the homely side, so she went along with everything he said. He was the king of his castle and my brother and sister and I quickly learned that we couldn't do anything without his approval. It was almost a surprise when he allowed me to borrow the family car on weekends. If I ever said anything that could be interpreted as disrespectful, I had to end up cancelling the date, or walking. It was two miles to the nearest business, and our small town had no public transportation or taxis. This was before ride sharing, but we probably wouldn't have had that either.
I did make good grades in high school. After graduation, I was able to live at home and go to the community college thirty miles away. By that time, my mother was working as a departmental secretary at the community college so we were able to car pool. It didn't help my social life much as I had to meet my mother at five pm sharp for the ride home. If we weren't both home by five-thirty, there would be hell to pay.
My father had an associate's degree in accounting which qualified him to do bookkeeping for several of the small businesses in town. He was willing to contribute to our earning associate's degrees, but since a two-year degree was good enough for him, he saw no reason to contribute to our 'higher education.'
Since my comm college grades were good, I was able to get a tuition scholarship to a state college that was only sixty miles away. I found a ride there with two of my buddies from high school. They let me tag along with just paying gas money. I found a part-time job between classes and that allowed me to earn the gas money and money for books and fees not covered by the scholarship. My younger brother and sister were now carpooling with my mom to the comm college.
My boss at the part-time job offered me a raise and more hours and I accepted that. He really trusted me and advanced me the money to purchase a car. For some reason, this really pissed my father off. He refused to add me to his auto insurance, so I had to pay for a separate policy. My mother stood up to him for once, so that I could still have a bed and breakfast at home. I was now staying at school or work until eight or nine in the evening so I had to purchase lunch and supper at the student union.
It took me three years to get my accounting degree, but it was worth the extra year to have a modest social life. It also pissed my father off when I had overnight dates with the opposite sex, but my mother convinced him that 'boys will be boys.' Who knows what shit my sister would have to bear if she ever had an overnight date. With my fresh accounting degree and good grades, I was able to get a job with an accounting firm in a nearby city. I rented an apartment and finally got away from my father's reluctant largesse. I continued going home for visits, usually once a month. That left me three weekends a month for dating, so I was able to get laid once in a while. I didn't date much during the week because I was studying for the CPA exams. I was sure to study three or four nights a week and so managed to pass the exams by the time I had my three years of experience in. I found a new job with a regional buying club as an assistant controller. The only travel I did now was to resolve audit problems at stores located in other cities.
Now I was able to become a seven nights a week pussy hound, and I became a fixture at night clubs and parties. That all stopped when I met Lila. She wasn't the prettiest girl around but she had a good figure, and became quite sexy once I broke her in. It wasn't so much that I was the sex king of city night life, but I learned to control my ejaculations, and if it took my partner fifteen or twenty minutes to have an orgasm, I could last that long or even longer. Lila told me that I took her 'orgasm cherry;' she had never cum PIV before.
Following my father's model, I established that I was the man in charge. Since Lila had never been 'pussy hound bait' and also had never experienced multiple orgasms with anyone else, she was more than willing to go along. I enjoyed being with her, as she had a keen sense of humor and a very sweet personality. She was a bit shy, but my friends, both male and female, all seemed to like her. Everything was copacetic and when I asked her to marry me, she was very excited and showered me with kisses and 'I love you's. We moved into a two-bedroom apartment. Two years later we bought a starter home, and a year later, we purchased a small lake cabin.
Delilah Ann Morganstern
I grew up in a scientific family. My parents seemed to spend a lot more attention on my elder brother, but as there were only two children, I wasn't totally neglected. My father was happy when I majored in Chemistry, and after graduation from college, I got a job as an assistant scientist in a small laboratory doing mostly testing for a large corporation.
I dated casually, not getting serious with anyone until I met Max. I had learned that guys expected sex no later than the second date, and so on our second date, after some kissing and a little petting and bra popping, Max made up his sofa into his bed. He wasn't the largest guy I had been with but he kept on stroking me as my arousal increased. It seemed that no other guy could last long enough for me to get all the way to climax. It was the best orgasm of my young life when it finally happened.
Even more amazing was that he still hadn't ejaculated. He turned me over into doggy style and I came again as he unloaded his baby juice into my love canal. Of course, I came back for more. Many times.
I became very familiar with his studio apartment. We usually would have a drink and make out a little while, and then I would help him pull out his sofa bed. I don't know when it became love, instead of just lust, but several months of fucking on his sofa bed had prepared me for his proposal. I was amazed at myself by how happy it made me.
We had a small wedding at a non-denominational church and started married life in a real two-bedroom apartment with a real bed. That was even better that the sofa bed, which we kept as a sofa and bed for guests. We turned our second bedroom into a study with separate desks. We settled into a routine of married life, usually making love once on weeknights and multiple times on weekends, at least twice and frequently, thrice.
We occasionally attended Friday or Saturday night parties. Sometimes we would go to a club for drinking and dancing with friends or alone. One Friday night we stopped off after work at the Night Owl lounge, which was between my workplace and our home. It was a bit crowded, and a good-looking guy asked if he could sit at our table while he scoped the scene out.
I can't explain it, but I immediately felt a connection with him. He stepped away to dance with a girl. I guess they didn't hit it off because after one dance, he was back at our table sipping the beer he had left there. We chatted briefly. He introduced himself as Harry, and I introduced ourselves as Max and Lila. It turned out that he was an attorney, working for an insurance company. That didn't seem very interesting, but he was a lively conversationalist with a warm, baritone voice, and I could feel my juices beginning to flow. I was thinking Max was going to get a real ride tonight.
Then Harry asked if it would be all right if he danced with me. This was unusual as I wasn't exactly a stud magnet, but Max nodded his assent, so I took Harry's proffered hand and joined him on the dark, dance floor. The Night Owl didn't have live music but usually had a nice play list. Our first dance was a slow one and he wrapped one arm around me placing his hand on my flank just above my hip and holding my free hand in his warm hand. His hands were very warm and strong enough to press our bodies close enough for my hard nipples to press against his chest and for me to feel his apparently sizeable sex against my leg. I was astounded to realize I was panting, suppressing my desire to moan. I just didn't get it. I had barely met this guy and I was very aroused. As the song ended, he lightly bussed my lips, adding to my excitement. We started back to our table, but another slow song was starting, and he asked, "Can we...?" I nodded 'yes.'
He guided me to the far side of the dance floor where there was a little more space. This time he squeezed me tight with both hands on my buttocks and his lips on my cheek. By the halfway point of the song his tongue was in my mouth and his semi-erect manhood was rubbing against my slit and my clit. My only problem was fear that my wetness would show through my dress. As the song ended, he whispered, "My place is nearby. Shall we...?"
I smiled and led him to the door. I couldn't believe what I was doing. I saw Max looking at me like 'WTF.' I blew him a kiss, and mouthed, 'later.'
I think I was as astounded by my behavior as he was. Harry seemed to think this was the most normal thing in the world. I knew I was walking out the door leaving my husband of five years alone. I had no idea if he would take me back or not, but I knew I was going to have this night, regardless.
Harry had a very nice apartment. As soon as he closed the door, we were making out. We continued making out as we left a trail of clothing on our way to his bedroom. Now nude, I knelt before his bed and began licking the largest cock I had ever seen. I guessed it was an eight-incher. It was too big for me to take the whole thing but I did the best I could sucking what I could get in my mouth.
I guess that was good enough, as he then lifted me to my feet and laid my nude body supine on his bed. He went down on me and quickly proved that he knew what he was doing. He was far better than Max at his craft and soon had me crying out my joy at the ecstasy of my first cunnilingus climax.
At this point, I would have done anything to feel that monster in my soaking vagi and was about to start begging when with immaculate timing, he sat up and began rubbing his manhood across my clitoris and labia. I was already hunching to increase the contact when he began the slide to my nirvana as his organ stretched my pussy as he slowly penetrated me. I had my first orgasm on his second stroke. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and kissed his face, I was trying my best to be totally one with him. Perhaps it was futile, but the trying felt wonderful. I lost count of how many orgasms I had, but finally after around twenty minutes, he rolled me over into the doggy position for more climactic delights.
After my cumming a dozen or so more times, he pulled me up into the kneeling prison guard and began relentlessly banging me into oblivion. I was almost relieved when he ejaculated into my waiting cunt, as I was reaching the point where I wouldn't have the energy for another orgasm. I don't think I had ever had as many orgasms in a week as I had had in the last hour or so.
I collapsed prone on the bed. I was dimly aware of him sweetly kissing my cheek and neck and softly rubbing my back and hips. I had never felt this fantastic in my entire life. I couldn't believe what had happened to me, but I knew in my heart of hearts that I would want this again and again.
He whispered in my ear, "That was completely fabulous. Let's get some sleep and do it again."
I said, "Sounds like a plan."
I texted Max, "I'm okay. See you later." I thought for a moment about whether I should send it or not. I decided 'what the hell,' he might be worried about me. It wouldn't hurt even if he was already preparing divorce papers.
I didn't get a reply, nor did I expect one. Even if he accepted my outrageous behavior, there was no reason for him to reply.
Harry and I drifted off to sleep but woke up in the early morning hours and went after each other like wild animals. I think it might have been even better than our first episode. We slept again and our next episode took place with it already light outside. I don't think it was quite as good as our first two rounds, but it was good enough for him to fix me toast and coffee, and exchange phone numbers, before asking me if I thought it was time to go home. I said it was fine as long as we did it again. He said he would call me.
It was between eight and nine when I did my walk of shame across the yard and up the steps to our front door. When I entered, Max was drinking coffee at the breakfast table, watching the morning news. He asked, "Did you have a good time?"
I answered, "Yes, I'm sorry, Max, for walking out on you like that."
He replied, "Don't worry about it! Do you want some coffee?"
I inquired, "Yes, please. Are we okay, Max?"
