Women I Have Nown

If you are looking for stories about people with perfect bodies - 38D silicone breasts and 10 inch penises - who can fuck non-stop for 8 hours, then I most certainly am not your author. If, however, you enjoy a story that's based virtually on fact, then remain in your seat and perhaps you'll enjoy a fond recollection of mine. This is the third edition of 'Women I have Known.'

*****

I poured myself second glass of Cabernet and commented, again, on its quality. My boss, the founder of our company, agreed. John Impelspin had hired me over a decade previously. I had worked with him for several years before he moved to the east coast to open a Boston branch of our import/export business. I now saw him once a quarter at Board Meetings. John was in his late 50's now, about a decade older than I am. We had forged a solid relationship over the years worked together. We were trusted friends and colleagues.

Despite the confidence of the friendship, I had been surprised, when, a few years earlier, John had mentioned he had suffered a mild heart-attack the previous spring. He was not a heavy man, but he certainly worked too much and took too little exercise. He told me how he had altered his lifestyle, and after the surgery and being on heart medication he felt as good as he had in years. I wished him well and told him he should consider working only part-time; although, I knew he would never do so. The following quarterly meeting concluded with him and me drinking perhaps one glass of wine too much. It was with a sad smile that John at that point admitted that while his general health was improved, the medication had rendered him unable to satisfy his wife.

I'm not sure how long I remained silent: how do you respond to that bit of information? Eventually I said something lamely comforting. I had known his wife Marianne nearly as long as I had known John. She was well into her fifties, blonde, perhaps slightly overweight, with the brown skin of an avid golfer which her life of leisure allowed her to pursue. She also possessed the largest breasts I had ever seen. I always awaited the yearly fourth quarter meeting which also doubled at the Christmas party for the Boston staff. It was always interesting to mentally guess how Marianne was going to dress that night. She never showed much skin, but her dresses could do little to hide that she was a highly curvaceous woman.

Anyway, Marianne's breasts have diverted me from my tale. By the way, my name is Kevin. A few months later John traveled out west and my wife and I hosted him as our house guest during his stay. He got along well with my wife Lauren. He seldom saw her now that he lived in Boston. John and I had both been married to our wives for over twenty-five years. Many of the other highly-placed men in the firm had replaced their first wives with trophy wives. They were always far too young for them, but fun to look at. Having to speak to most of them was a challenge, since most of them were not nearly as clever as their first wives.

John brought up this fact as we smoked a joint on my back patio the night before he returned to Boston. Lauren had retired to bed and John and I had a nice conversation about the state of matrimony. We each praised each others' wives. He brought up, once more, the fact that he had not fucked his wife in several years. He did mention that he was able to orally please her. I told him, "As long as she's getting an orgasm, I'm sure she could care less how she's getting it." I smiled and made sure the bedroom window was closed before I whispered to him, "I sometimes think Lauren would be fine if she only got oral sex. She is actually easier to get off that way that with my cock."

John was on a flight to Boston early the next day.

It was three months before I had dinner with him again in Boston. It was a Wednesday night. I recall that much. After dinner John slid over closer to me and asked if we could speak in confidence. I thought perhaps business had taken a downturn and some sort of layoffs were going to be discussed. I momentarily feared for my career.

"Kevin, you like my wife, right?"

"She's the best. What's not to like?"

"No, not like that. I mean if she were single and you were, would you fuck her?"

I began to wonder if he was posing the question to trap me into saying something that would certainly end my upward career path. But knowing him to be a kind man, a good friend, and knowing his medical predicament, I was less cautious. "I think any red-blood man would love to be with Marianne, but I doubt you have to worry about her cheating on you. She seems super loyal and devoted to you and the kids."

John smiled. "She is loyal. And you are right about the not cheating aspect." He paused. "I've tried to get her to for two years now."

I masked my complete confusion by taking a sip of wine. "You've been trying to do what?"

"You heard me. I've told her she has my blessing to have an affair. She flat told me to fuck off."

"But why?" My mind reminded me of John's medical condition. "You mean because you can't...well, you know."

"Yup. She's admitted she misses sex, but she wants nothing to do with an affair. I told her to just go out and find a fling. She's told me that's not gonna happen either. She is fearful of diseases or having anyone find out."

I laughed. "In Boston she's have no problem finding willing men who travel in different circles than you two."

"She's not cut out for a one-nighter. How about you?"

"I can't say I've been perfectly faithful to Lauren, but I'm not into one-nighters either...not to say I have not have a couple."

"No, I am asking you if you'd like to sleep with Marianne."

"I'm not interested in ending my career here just yet," I let out a nervous laugh.

"No, She and I have discussed it. She said she'd not want to sleep with a stranger and anyone local is right out too, since we'd be apt to run into them."

"So, because I live in California and she knows me, I'm interesting to her?"

"She likes you too. She always has."

"And you are OK with the idea of her sleeping with another man?"

"Not just any man, no. But I know you. You love your wife, and we've been friends for ages. I think I can trust you to put everything in context, and of course to keep things quiet."

"No worries there. I don't need Lauren to serve me with divorce papers any more than I need you to sack me. And just how is this supposed to happen?" My mind was already thinking of the logistics.

"That's just it. I think if confronted with actually doing it, there's a 50-50 chance Marianne will chicken out. How about if she joins us for dinner tomorrow night and we go from there?"

"Sure, sure. I need to go up to my room and get some sleep. I don't need this wine, jet-lag, and sleep deprivation make me fall asleep in the meeting tomorrow." I got up and shook hands with my boss and headed for the elevators. In my mind I was wondering if Marianne would actually chicken out or if there was a chance I might actually get to see her giants tits.

The next day dragged. After the meetings I hurried back to my room and had a quick shower before heading to the restaurant in the hotel. John and Marianne were already waiting for me. I greeted them with a handshake and hug. This was how I had greeted them both on many social occasions. Today it felt different. Marianne looked quite lovely.

Dinner went as expected. John seemed his normal self. Marianne and I seemed a bit nervous. Once dinner was over, Marianne got up and said, "I need to go to the ladies' room."

Once she left I asked John, "So, what's next?"

"She's game."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"She said, 'ladies' room'."

"What?"

"That was our code. If she said 'restroom' it meant she had changed her mind. But she said 'ladies' room', which means she's going to her car to get her small overnight bag."

"Ah, so you came in two cars."

"Yes, and don't let her come home in the middle of the night. I can't have the neighbors seeing anything really odd."

"Of course, of course."

"When she gets back, give her the room key, and let her leave ahead of you. I'll pay the dinner tab and get out of your hair now." He signaled the waiter for the check.

I must have appeared tense, because John patted my shoulder, "Relax, have fun, and make sure Marianne is happy. It's no big deal. I'm not gonna freak out afterwards. I don't even plan to ask for any details...aside from making sure she had a blast." With that, John signed the check, shook my hand, and headed for the exit with a jaunty step.

Marianne showed up shortly thereafter. I assumed she was nervous, and I would have to be the calm one and be in charge. I gave her the room key card, told her the room number, and asked how long I should wait before coming up.

"I want to freshen up a bit. Twenty minutes OK?"

"You bet."

With that, she headed for the lobby and I headed to the bar to have one more drink. I had not consumed too much alcohol. I assumed the drink would calm me down as well as give me a way to occupy my twenty minutes of waiting time.

Now that I knew I was actually going to be with Marianne I got excited at the prospect of finally seeing those magnificent, over-developed tits.

I finished my beer, left a generous tip, and headed to the elevators. Having given Marianne my key card I was forced to knock on my own door. She slowly opened the door and stepped back into the living area of the suite. She was wearing what, on most other women, would have been deemed to be a conservative negligee. However, on Marianne's bodacious figure the nighty was nearly obscene. It was not the amount of skin showing which shocked me, for, in fact, the hemline was closer to the knees than the crotch and the neckline was fairly modest as well. It was the absolute mass of her breasts which shocked and awed me. Indeed they hung down fairly low (As is the case with most women over 50), but as she was now no longer encumbered by a bra her tits were given free range to sway and jiggle lasciviously beneath the thin red fabric. My dazed state of mind was snapped back to reality when Marianne spoke.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to do this. I haven't made love with anyone besides John in decades."

It was at this time that my oxygen-deprived brain devised a scheme which would turn out to be simple and effective. It was so fundamentally simple, yet it instantly put Marianne at ease and changed her general attitude as well.

"I'm sure John didn't plan on you coming here to make love. He specifically told me we were here to fuck."

"To fuck?" A smile crossed her lips.

"Yes. And I think we are wasting valuable time. "Let's get you naked and get some cock in you. Take that top off; I wanna finally see those huge tits."

She struggled to take the negligee off over her head so I helped her. If possible they looked even larger than they did when covered with fabric. They hung softly but the sag was less than I had expected from such monstrous mammaries on a woman her age. I could also tell she was now nervous since she was naked and I was not. I quickly peeled off my shoes and socks followed by my trousers and shirt. My cock was already obviously hard in my boxers.

Marianne stared at the bulge in my shorts. I said, "I clearly like what I see. Now come here and suck my cock." I thought she might be hesitant but she was eager. She stepped closer, kneeled down and kissed the tip.

"Been a while since I did this, be patient." She opened her mouth and began to gently suck me. She did not take me deeply but she applied perfect pressure. I was not going to let her suck me for long. Firstly, the night was about her. Secondly, I did not want to come too soon. I had purposefully not fucked my wife for three days before leaving on my trip. I wanted to be fully loaded for Marianne. I made noises of approval for about three minutes before ordering her to bed.

"Lie down on the bed and let me see that pussy of your. John says it's amazing."

"Ha. Isn't he nice. I just had a waxing too." She sat on the bed, scooted up, and lay back.

I had to spread her legs. I guess she was bashful. It was indeed a pretty pussy. Her lips were nicely swollen, and the pinkness of her cunt made a nice contrast to her pale skin. Whoever had waxed Marianne had done a really nice job.

"You look good enough to eat, and in fact I'm going to." I did not waste much time kissing her thighs, and I got right to work licking and nibbling her pussy. She was plenty wet already, and I knew her husband still ate her pussy from time to time, so I quit eating her after about five minutes.

"You ready to be fucked long and hard?"

She giggled. "Boy, am I."

I got between her legs and placed my dick between her wet pussy lips. As I entered her slowly, I noticed two things: she was very tight, and as I rocked back and forth to work my cock into her, her giant boobs were already beginning to jiggle. It was not long before I was fully buried in my boss's wife. The idea of fucking a married woman was one I had always found erotic; knowing he knew I was doing it made it doubly so.

With the first real thrust I gave Marianne, her tits bounced so much that when they went up they actually hit her chin. This gave me another idea.

"Can you suck your tits as I fuck you?"

Marianne did not say a word but quickly had one of her own nipples in her mouth and began to suck it. It was all I could do to not come right then and there. After a minute of this Marianne stopped licking her nipple and asked me, "Do I look slutty?"

That sort of seemed like a two-edged sword. Clearly she did, but she, being a classy lady, I was uncertain of her reaction if I told her, 'Yes'. I opted to be bold.

"Hell yes, you do." I waited anxiously.

"Well then, tell me I do."

Here was another unexpected bonus. My own wife hated to be called any names in bed. I don't really have a desire to call women names in bed, but the fact that I was not allowed to at home, made me want to: The forbidden fruit theory perhaps.

I was tentative at first. "Suck your other tit now...you slut." This seemed to rev her up even more. Within a few minutes I was fully enjoying the game too. (I would later learn that she and John had frequently used dirty talk and name calling while having sex. They were about the last couple I would have imagined engaging in that. Marianne was many things, but certainly she was not a slut, a bitch, or a cunt.)

After a few more minutes I told her to roll over. I fucked her doggy style. I could tell her giant boobs were shaking wildly below her, but I could not see them. I was now fully obsessed with her breasts.

"Come over to the bathroom, Slut." I lead her to the bathroom which had a mirror over the sink area which covered the entire wall. "Lean over the sink," I commanded her. I got behind her and continued to fuck her. In this position I could fully see her tits flopping as I fucked her. The fucking and the names I called her brought her to a majestic orgasm in about ten minutes. I returned her to the bed, fucked her in the missionary position a while longer, and, as I felt myself about to come, I straddled her and placed my cock between her tits. She held them together, sandwiching my dick. It only took a few short strokes before I came. Most of my come landed on her tits and neck. Some of it landed on her face. She did not seem to mind. (My own wife also did not allow me to come on her face.)

Marianne and I tidied up, had a glass of wine and chatted about some family and business matters until I felt I was able to fuck again. She happily sucked me to an erection and we repeated the previous scene very much the same, although this time I came in my boss's wife's hairless cunt.

I fucked her again in the morning before she returned home and I left to catch a plane.

I had a quick email exchange with John the next day. He said Marianne had a wonderful time, and hoped to visit with me again the next time I was in town. Then he went on to talk about work and the subject of Marianne was dropped for about one hundred days.

When my next trip back east was scheduled, John asked me if I wanted to have Marianne come do a 'sleep-over' again. I said, 'Yes', without wanting to seem overly eager. It's a tricky thing to tell a man you want to fuck his wife.

I saw Marianne on my next three trips. Each time she enjoyed being fucked, called names, and told what to do. She allowed me to hold her by the hair as she sucked me, and she let me come on her face a few times too. Both of these things my own wife was dead set against. Sadly, Marianne was like my wife and did not want to be fucked in the ass.

When the trip to Boston for the December meeting was scheduled, the partners were all invited to John and Marianne's palatial home in the suburbs for a dinner after the board meeting. The elaborate home-cooked meal was a nice change from the restaurants we normally went to. As the evening was winding down, John whispered to me to stay and help clean up after the other four partners left to return home or to their hotels.

When the others offered to stay and help clean up too, John told everyone to go home. He said I was to stay because I had had too much to drink and needed to sober up before he would let me drive.

After the final guest had been ushered to the door, John turned to me and said, "Marianne and I have talked about it, and she'd like to stay with you in the guestroom tonight, if that's cool with you?"

I gave the obvious answer.

Marianne then continued, "But John wants to be able to watch if he wants. Still OK with it?" The couple looked at each other and then at me.

While the idea seemed awkward to me, it seemed really rude to not let John do as he wanted. After all the man had been signing my paychecks for a decade and had been letting me fuck his wife for over a year. "Sure sure, as long as you two have talked about it." I now wondered if I'd be able to get hard if John was watching.

"Great," said John. "Let's go watch some TV for a few minutes while Marianne changes into something more naked."

Marianne smiled and left for her own bedroom. John and I went downstairs.

I nervously asked, "You're really OK with this? I don't wanna cause any problems for any of us."

"No problem. Marianne has been telling me everything that happens."

"Everything? Really?"

"Don't be embarrassed. She has loved being slutty for you. I guess when you hardly ever have sex, you wanna get your money's worth, ha! Now let's go back up and find that slut."

When we opened the guest room door Marianne was sitting on the bed naked. She told me to get naked, and told John to sit on the chair she had placed near the bed.

As usual, I kissed Marianne but briefer than normally. After that I told her to suck me. Amusingly, I felt less self-conscious with my cock in her mouth than I had when I kissed her. Since I normally held Marianne by the hair as she sucked me, I did so this time as well. I ate her pussy briefly, and then fucked her. Her tits were flailing. I commanded her to suck her nipples as I fucked her more roughly. The scene progressed much as it had the previous times we had been together. I had forgotten briefly that John was in the room until I heard his belt buckle. I looked over and saw his stroking his dick as I hammered away at his busty wife.

I was shocked to see his dick was hard, and that is was very large. I must have paused when I saw this unexpected sight. Marianne looked over as well. Her eyes showed surprise too.

I quickly pulled my cock out of my playmate. "John, get over here and fuck your wife," I demanded. He needed no second prompting.

A minute later he was fucking his loving wife with his big dick. I grabbed my clothes from the floor and snuck out of the room and down the stairs. I got dressed, grabbed a soda from the refrigerator, and snuck out the door.