The Need to Feel Desired

I was 43 when I married for the first time. Stella was 32 and two years free of a bad marriage. I was a well traveled and experience bachelor, she was a neglected wife looking to make up for lost time and opportunities. Once free of her marriage vow she turned totally promiscuous. I suppose the fact that her ex left her for a 21-year old tart with a reputation for being a sleep-around had something to do with this, something to do with her need to feel desired and to prove to herself that she could still attract men. So she went on a "fuck anything that walked" binge by going to bars where mostly bikers hung out. But after a year of this what was exciting at first left her feeling cheap and degraded so she withdrew to a life of celibacy. She left her job at the Harley-Davidson dealership for a better paying job at a company that made precision auto racing parts, went back to school and focused on being a better mother to her 7-year old son.

During this time she was content to trust her vibrator and fantasies to take care of her sexual needs. 12 months into her new job she was sent to Las Vegas to work her company's booth at a trade expo. While there she scanned a copy of one of those free newspaper-like publications that advertised studs and hookers for hire. She was intrigued, even tempted, but there was no way on her salary that she could afford the asking price. It just so happened that I was there to look for new suppliers at that trade expo, which is how we met. Stella, light brown/blue, 5'4" and nicely curved, was busy with others when I walked up to her booth. I looked at the brochures and samples and then noticed on a chair the "sex for sale" publication so I walked around the counter to take a better look. She turned to look at me, saw me flipping through the pages and turned beet red.

"See anything here you might like to try?" I asked.

"Hey, I'm single and don't have a thing going for me. There's nothing wrong with a girl fantasizing, is there?" she giggled shyly.

Her makeup, hair, clothing and the way she carried herself was totally professional but I didn't have to look hard to see that just beyond this image was a sexy and needy woman. I gave her my business card, told her where I was staying, suggested she pick out someone she would like to try from that sex for sale rag and then to give me a call when she got off work.

I was just about to go down to the casino to play poker when she called. She sounded both nervous and excited. She gave me a name and phone number. I told her to get ready to have fun, then placed the call, gave Stella's hotel and room number and charged it to a credit card.

Two days later at the airport she saw me in the boarding area waiting for my flight to be called. She sat next to me and smiled like a Cheshire cat. We were both going to the same destination on an airline that did not offer reserved seating so we sat next to each other for the 90-minute trip. Her hired stud knew what he was doing. She couldn't remember ever being that pleased. The guy left her swollen and sore, and totally spent. Having been with some very good hookers I knew exactly what she meant. We had a couple of drinks and talked, and by the time we reached our destination we exchanged phone numbers and looked forward to seeing each other again.

We went out for dinner five nights later and, afterward, took along walk on a pier that jutted well out over the Pacific Ocean. I was at that stage of my life where hookers and one-night-stands no longer appealed to me, and she was just beginning to realize how much a committed relationship meant to her. I was a bit concerned about our 11-year age difference but she wasn't, so over the next four months things progressed. We grew closer and closer, liked the same things and were very good together in bed. I hadn't been with any other woman in all that time, still, there was something unsure in me, about me, this being that I was never monogamous. I didn't feel any need much less want to be with anyone else but for how long would that last, especially with the amount of business travel required of me?

She didn't press me to get married but she did very much want us to live together. I truly liked her son so all in all that seemed to be a good idea, all except for my uncertainty about staying faithful to her. She assured me that that was not a problem for her providing she got to "play" every now and again. Treating her to a hired stud in Las Vegas was one thing, after all, I had no intention of ever seeing her again. But if we lived together how would I feel about her being with another man? For sure this was that age-old male "double standard" but there it was and it needed to be dealt with. There was no denying that what was good for the gander was just as good for the goose.

We were both honest about everything. She told me about fucking more than 100 men during her first 12 months after divorce, and how that ended up leaving her feeling like a piece of meat. Those men looked her as a convenient cum dump. Not one ever asked her out, and it got so that within five minutes of entering one of those bars she was in a supply room or somewhere either sucking or fucking, sometimes as many as 10 in a row. It took her a long time to realize that that wasn't pleasure it was self-punishment for not being enough of a woman to keep her husband. Yet there were those rare times when she felt truly desired by a man. That she enjoyed to no end. That hired stud in Las Vegas made her feel that way. She realized that he was just doing his "job" but no matter, he went out of his way to make her feel like was the sexiest and most desirable woman on the planet and that, combined with his "know how" and large "equipment" made for the most thrilling and satisfying sex ever. She loved what we had because there was emotion attached to the fun and creative sex we shared, but to feel truly desired by a strange man she could enjoy from time to time.

I never placed strings on any of my sexual partners. What we had was sex for mutual fun and pleasure and no more, so I honestly didn't care if they had other lovers, nor did they care if I did. But I had feelings for Stella. I gave serious thought to moving in together. What would I think about her being with other men? There was only one way to find out.

All through her 8-year marriage she felt a special attraction to her husband's very best friend, his best man at their wedding. They were always friendly and respectful with each other but there was just something that told her that he had the same sexual feelings for her. And the fact that her husband had said that he had more than enough cock for two men just added to her attraction. But they were both married so nothing ever came of it. After a lot of discussion we agreed to try it once then to see where to go from there. She met him for lunch and laid her cards on the table: she was always horny for him, she was about to enter a committed relationship and she wanted to fuck his socks off before doing so. She had read him right. He was just as attracted to her and on condition that she told nobody about it he agreed to meet with her.

What she would not say was that I would be watching from a secret location. I was in a knot going from dread to excitement the five days we waited for it to happen. Stella offered to call it off many times but each time I decided to go forward providing she help me work through any aftermath problems I might have, like possessiveness or jealousy. There was that double standard again. I was sure that if I met someone when out-of-town I could enjoy fun sex just for mutual pleasure then return home without any emotional hang-ups. I had no such confidence about Stella doing the same with other men. And if our relationship was going to work I had to find out.

Saturday arrived. We were at her house, a place her soon to be lover had been to countless times before, her son would spend the weekend with her parents and the object of her lust would be there in another 90 minutes. Now my feelings really vacillated from one extreme to another. She insisted that I watch and be a part of every minute of what obviously had her turned on to the max. I leaned against the vanity as she bathed in the tub. I watched her shave her pussy and then scootch her ass under the faucet to rinse off, and with that stream of hot water hitting her already swollen clitoris it took only a few licks with her finger to bring on her first orgasm of the day. She took her time toweling herself dry, spending extra time on her 34B's and rigid pink nipples as well as on her glowing pink pussy. She did her hair just so, applied the bare minimum amount of makeup, placed barely a dab of perfume on her inner thighs and neck and beneath each breast, and then went into the bedroom. I looked at the alarm clock: 1 hour to go. She sat on the bed facing me, spread her legs wide, then reached down to spread her pussy lips to reveal her already wet and glistening lust canal. She knew she would be so wet that she would have to wipe off just before he got there so she asked me to eat her. Her cunt was so fresh and hot, her scent was intoxicating and I was so totally aroused that I ate her to three consecutive and powerful orgasms, with me cumming in my shorts as I did. You would think that 3 powerful orgasms would take the edge off her excitement but it just added to her randiness. As she hurried into the bathroom to freshen her pussy up I again looked tat the clock: 40 minutes to show time. I was hard again when she returned. She put on her new black, lacy panties, then her form-hugging black satin tank top and stepped into the blue denim skirt that reached down to not more than 4 inches below her pussy. She checked herself in the mirror and then looked at me. It wasn't too late to call it off. Half of me wanted to do just that and the other half didn't. This was threatening, to be sure. But it was also equally as exciting. But it was the mixture of heightened anticipation and pure lust in her eyes that convinced me to go on with it. There was no way I wanted to see the look of disappointment I was sure to see if I chickened out.

There was no more to say. She waited with lust-filled anticipation, and I waited with a mixture of dread and arousal. Then the doorbell rang. Our hearts stopped. We held our breath for a long moment before looking at each other. I held her eyes for a long moment, took a deep breath, then smiled my consent and hurried to the basement rec room.

Just beyond a wall in the room was the laundry and utility room. We had spent some time planning this, beginning by cutting a hole and affixing a one-way mirror that would allow me to see without being seen and by placing the furniture so that every thing that happened would give me a good view. So there I sat, waiting. And waiting. The plan was for her to take him straight downstairs but ten minutes went by and I still waited. I was about to sneak up to see what happened when I heard them descending the stairs. His shirt was removed and his belt buckle was undone so my guess that they did some kissing and touching the minute he came through the door. They sat on the sofa facing me with her to his left. He wasted no time in pulling her tank top up over her head then moved forward to suckle a nipple while fondling the other breast with his right hand. I'd seen Stella turned on before but never like this. She looked at me in the mirror, bit down on her lower lip and then with her right hand fumbled to get his cock out of his pants. I gasped when I saw it. It had to be close to 10 inches long and so thick she could not fully close her hand around it. She stroked it for a minute or so while he sucked and fondled her breasts and then sank to his knees and pulled his pants and shorts off. She twisted to her right side to be sure to give me a good view then leaned forward to tease that huge bulbous head with her tongue. She licked and kissed and sucked that huge cock with abandon while he moaned and gasped. His body bucked, his belly trembled and he shot his load into her mouth and down her throat. Though she tried her best there was just too much cum to swallow it all. Some of it drooled out off her mouth and dripped onto his leg. There is this special noise Stella makes when she is having an orgasm and there it was. She was so hot she got off on getting him off! It took a moment or so to let her orgasm to peak before she moved to lick up the spilled cum with a yummy-like moan. And at that very moment any dread I had had given fully away to arousal.

She moved up unto he end of the sofa, eased back against the armrest and tugged him closer. She guided his head between her legs then stared at the mirror the whole ten or more minutes he ate her. As close as I could tell she had two orgasms before guiding him up. She took his rock hard cock in both hands and guided it into her wanton and needy cunt. He took his time inching it in and out until it was as far as it would go, about 8 inches. They started out with low, long, steady strokes, with her moving her ass forward to greet his every thrust. When her pussy adjusted to being filled and stretched to the max she threw her ass harder and faster into their fucking. Watching that cock pound in and out of Stella's cunt was too much: I shot my load the minute I put my hand around my cock. I stared with complete rapture at their fucking. He came first. She came right behind him. So hard that I was amazed that neither had passed out from such overwhelming pleasure.

He lie quietly between her legs until his cock shrank then he pulled out and sat back facing me. She moved to take his soft cock in his mouth. She licked and stroked for at least five minutes before she accepted that he wasn't going to get hard anytime soon. She moved up to kiss him but he stopped her short. It was no use. That was the first time he was unfaithful to his wife and his guilt was already taking hold. And what about her? Didn't she feel guilty about making it with her husband's best friend? She pointed that he was her ex-husband and, smiling beautifully into the mirror knowing I was there watching, she said she felt no guilt whatsoever and, if he wasn't going to fuck her again, maybe it was best for him to get dressed and go home.

That was exactly what he did. I watched Stella, wearing only her short denim skirt, follow him up the steps and the minute I heard the door close I raced after her. Before I could say a word she rushed me into the bathroom and as the tub filled she gave me an incredible blowjob. I got in first, she got in between my legs and eased herself back into my arms. After a moment she asked, "Well?"

"I think it's time you move in with me," I sighed contentedly. I was convinced that she could enjoy fun sex without any risk of her getting emotionally involved. More than that, the look on her face as that guy drank her in with his eyes combined with his urgency to have her showed me a side of Stella I hadn't seen before, one that I understood added to her in some good way, one that I knew that I wanted to see again.