K. Linford Little is nothing if not adventurous.
Maybe it's the fact he loves scuba diving, sky diving and muff diving, not in that order.
Ok, that was a rash attempt at getting a laugh, but it is true. "Lin" is a very adventurous 50-something guy. He's married with a couple kids, enjoys adventure vacations that always include at least one activity he's never tried before.
For instance, last year in Aruba he attempted kite surfing. He didn't get the knack for it, but he enjoyed himself immensely.
He works long hours at his job, an executive with an insurance company. I know, because I used to be his administrative assistant. He works hard and plays hard, I know, because I'm his, well, girlfriend.
We've been together so to speak for more than a decade, finding the time for companionship, love and romance, some all in the same day.
Oh, and his wife doesn't know and he prefers to kept it our own little secret that we have this thing going on.
For me, I know it's wrong, but I love him in my own way. I mean, over the years I've dated several guys, a couple very, very seriously. Once I was engaged, but that wasn't to be. Thank goodness I came to my senses before we tied the knot because it would have been a disaster.
These days I am dating a very nice man, Robert, who is in mid-management and who seems to have a lot on the ball. We go to the theater, concerts and eat at nice restaurants. We like long walks on the beach near his parent's shore house, and once or twice a week we make love. Robert is a great guy, I love him in my own way, and who knows where the relationship will lead.
Yet in my world there is a parallel world that includes my former boss. I learned long ago he's never going to leave his wife....which is why we broke up years ago. But we got back together because there was a certain "it" between us that couldn't be satisfied elsewhere.
We know it's wrong, cheating on our spouse/boyfriend, but it's reality. What can I say but to everyone I'm sorry but it is what it is.
Lin is very special to me, he is in my DNA, he's the smile on the clown's face, the sun in the morning and everything in between. We've had our ups and downs, but we always manage to make things right and find the time to share a piece of our lives together.
Oh, and have I mentioned he loves blow jobs?
Yea, he's a guy and yes he does. His wife doesn't believe in giving them any more. Oh they have sex, he admits to that. Every once in a while she will suck him hard, but that's it in the blow job department at home for the guy. For full service, crinkle your toes and turn to putty in one's hand blow jobs he finds be always ready, willing and able.
We've done it a jillion times in his car, in parks, parking lots and behind hedges. We've done it at his club, in the men's locker room late at night (almost caught) and in the balcony of a movie theater. I think I've mentioned that Lin is adventurous.
There is just something about sucking the guy. I love it. He says I am addicted to his cock and maybe I am. I just like the power I have over him, the way he groans and moans, the way he enjoys himself at my touch.
It has been years since we had intercourse. That doesn't mean we are celibate. Besides oral sex he's done a little bit of everything with me.
It's funny, he's honest about it. He might suggest something to his wife who will nix the thought, and within a week I'm her stand in. I mean, I've flashed a trucker for him (both my tits and ass), I've let him do me with a vibrator and, well, a banana. I've dressed up in schoolgirl outfits and even a maid uniform.
Believe it or not, I love doing it.
We've nearly been caught in some of our escapades, and have actually been caught in others. When you blow a guy in a parked car there's always a chance someone will catch you in the act. We've been caught in the car (check out some of my other reports) but we've also been observed when we've ventured outdoors.
The walk along the railroad tracks near the canal has been especially problematic, as I was observed on my haunches giving Lin a blow job when a train passed (the engineer saw us for sure, Lin reported, and I am sure some passengers) but also near that same stop we were observed fingering each other while leaning against a tree (and a guy walking his dog came within 10 feet of us, seeing everything including my skirt up and Lin's fingers in my pussy).
Luckily we've never drawn the attention of the "authorities" so no harm, no foul, right?
Lin has lots of quirks besides a proclivity off exhibitionism! As mentioned, hardly a date doesn't go by without me blowing him. He likes short skirts, and loves it when I wear stockings (not pantyhose). His wife wears pantyhose, he says. And while I normally don't wear stockings, I do for him.
Years ago after our first go around we stopped having intercourse. When we were seeing each other at work we'd always be doing it somewhere. We had sex on his desk in his office, of course, but also in the conference room and once in the copy room over the copier. We'd do it in his car and several No Tell Motels.
But all that ended when we broke up. I realized he wasn't leaving his wife and at the time I thought it was time to move on. It was after months and- months of regret though that we got back together.
The thing is, at that point, we both knew what was in the cards. We were never going to be married, a formal couple, and some things did change. The biggest was that we stopped having sex. No intercourse. In retrospect I think in his mind he followed the Bill Clinton rule: no intercourse means you aren't cheating.
You know, I didn't really miss it. I had all the sex I wanted when I blew him. For years now that has been a wonderful, wild ride. And various boyfriends and I have consummated our relationship between the sheets, so it's not like I wasn't having intercourse.
So why am I telling you all this? If you've read my stories, you know all that. If you haven't, feel free to do so. Or just read on if you aren't worried about context.
On a recent Saturday Lin was a bachelor as his wife was at her mother's for the weekend. We drove to the Pennsylvania Amish Country and went antiquing for the day, much less excitement than his normal adventurous self.
While driving there he had me flash several truckers while jerking him off. On the way home he pulled over at a rest stop and had me blow him. Yes, we went antique store hopping for me but he really enjoyed himself going and coming and coming (pun intended).
We stopped for dinner at a hole in the wall diner and had a great meal. How is it these diners offer a complete menu all day, and do it well? Steak in the morning is as good as ham and eggs at night. Good food and cheaper than the specialized places down the road.
Small talk was made, especially with a little flirting on each of our parts. We enjoyed all the time we had together, and it was even better when we didn't have to hurry him home. We talked about this and that when he mentioned he was flying to Chicago the next week.
I said something about being careful with the Flight Attendants who might want to have him join the Mile High Club, something that brought an immediate smile to his lips.
"What," I questioned.
"That's a fantasy of mine, but, no, I don't think the airline would appreciate it. My luck would have someone walk in on us."
For the rest of the meal we spoke in hushed tones on how much we enjoyed making fantasies reality, but couldn't figure away to join The Club. Too difficult, too dangerous and so forth.
Several weeks went my before the topic came up again, and this time it was Lin had not only thought about but researched.
"Hey Robyn, did you know there are some places where you can actually take a Mile High Club flight?" said my guy over a latte. "Seriously, I saw it in the internet."
Shaking my head, I reminded him that not everything on the internet should be taken as gospel.
"No, seriously, there's a web site I found and there are a handful of places that offer "private" flights," said my former boss.
Lin was quick to say that you can't find these flights just anywhere. Really? No kidding?
He relayed what he found out. The flights are on small planes, the Piper Cherokee is popular, they are based at regional airports, and generally the flights are an hour or so at the 6,000 foot level and generally only take off in good weather. If a storm is a coming, you don't go. Finally, the flights are generally over countryside and within a 30 mile radius of the airport.
"Oh, great, and we'd be watched by the pervert pilot the whole time and our trip would go out on the internet that night," I said, shaking my head again. "So, you want your wife seeing you in action up in the air?"
Lin was quick to say in his "research" all talked about privacy and that the flights wouldn't continue unless there was discretion. "I talked to a guy down south who said his job was to fly safely, and that was it. What we did in the back behind the curtain was our business. He was very nice about it, didn't sound like a creep."
Lin then gave me the bad news. "Only problem is that the places that I saw the flights were in the South, the Midwest and in England. There were none advertised close to here."
Good thing, I thought. But then I couldn't get the thought out of my mind for the next week. I wondered what it would be like, frolicking a mile, two or three in the air with the guy I loved. It presented quite a fantasy. I had to admit that joining the exclusive Mile High Club was quite enticing. It would be safe, legitimate and sounded like a lot of fun.
"Darn, you had me there saying yes, and there is nothing to say yes to," I lamented. "But it's a great idea, a wonderful fantasy."
It really did sound hot. Much hotter than Kathy and her husband's little bit of action she embarrassingly mentioned at lunch. They stopped on the way home from the department Christmas party and did "it" in the backseat of the car.
They had finished and had gotten buttoned up and all when a Good Samaritan had stopped to see if they needed any help. For Kathy, nearly being caught in the act was hot. For Lin and I, well, we had fooled around in the car and had actually been observed on several occasions! No, the Mile High Club was quite exciting to me.
For his part, Lin worked it into our sessions in the car. He'd pretend I was a flight attendant serving him "Uh, miss, could you take care of this spill on my pants?" or tell me the pilot was watching as I sucked him off down by the river.
The guy could make a fantasy out of nearly anything.
