Fresh Air

Fresh Air

by Bullistic

With one red-soled stiletto-heeled shoe braced on the toilet paper holder, Lisa sat perched on the toilet with her legs spread wide. Glad she had chosen to not wear bra or panties to this event, it was easy access to both her pussy and her tits since her Versace gown was a wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen under the best of conditions.

The dress was hiked above her waist and off one shoulder, her firm double D breast filling her left hand as she tweaked the nipple, while the middle finger of her right hand languidly teased her clit, sending pulses of pleasure up through her stomach.

Her breathing was already getting a little ragged, and she could feel herself getting very wet as she pictured John, or James, or whatever his name was, the beefy bond trader she'd flirted with for the past two hours and had told to meet her here 10 minutes ago.

The door to the restroom clicked open slowly, and she heard his deep voice.

"Lisa, are you...?"

"Shut the door and lock it!" Lisa whisper-shouted from the stall. She heard him follow orders, and as the lock clicked into place she kicked the stall door open.

He turned his 6'4" wide-shouldered frame toward the noise and took her in, jaw dropping.

"Wow." Pause. "Wow," was all he could muster.

"Get the fuck in here John," Lisa said, tossing her long blonde hair out of her eyes.

He stepped forward toward her and said absently "It's James, actually... "

"Who gives a fuck," Lisa said, leaning forward to grab the front of his tuxedo shirt and pull him toward her. His eyes changed from shock to lust in an instant, and he smoothly knelt and buried his tongue in her waxed and glistening pussy in one quick motion.

Lisa moaned quietly as his tongue quickly stroked from her ass up around her labia, probing and penetrating, sending serious shockwaves of pleasure throughout her pelvis. She stifled a louder moan and shuddered as he moved onto her tingling clit, teasing and flicking it with his tongue, then sucking it greedily. Lisa twisted and pinched her nipple as she grabbed a fistful of his dark hair and bucked her hips against his face, her legs starting to tremble. She heard him unzip his pants and she wanted that cock, now.

"Jesus, fuck me James," she panted, sweat trickling down her back, making her shiver.

Illustrating one reason why she usually dated big, strong guys, James scooped his hands under her thighs and cupping her ass, lifted her small 5'5'' frame with very little difficulty, turning and bracing her back against the side wall of the bathroom stall as his rock hard cock slid deep inside her pussy.

She gasped, the insanely hot glory of a first deep stretching penetration with a new cock nearly driving her over the edge. She wrapped her long, tan, toned legs around his waist and squeezed him still deeper into her, one of her heels slipping off and clattering onto the floor.

James' back was slick with sweat as he thrust rhythmically and powerfully into her, and he grunted with the effort. She could feel he was getting close to finishing quickly and she wasn't quite there yet, so she wriggled her legs down on the ground and pushed away from the wall with her elbows. Standing now, she shoved him gently onto the toilet seat, his impressive member at full attention. She nearly giggled as an image of some ridiculous billionaire's space rocket flashed through her mind.

"What're you..." he started, as she lifted her dress off completely and grabbed his thick cock, guiding it toward her needy cunt, mounting it smoothly. He grabbed her hips and pulled her down firmly on the shaft, his eyes rolling back with pleasure.

Taking two fistfuls of his thick coarse hair, Lisa started twerking on his cock, grinding her clit on his shaft, her ass cheeks clapping together softly. Waves of pleasure overtook her. Her brain began to melt, she quickly closed her eyes, she was nowhere, nothing but the friction of her throbbing clit against his hard shaft, a massive orgasm building...

Three loud knocks on the bathroom door preceded her husband Mark's loud voice. "Hey Hon, are you in there?! Everything ok?"

"Fuck... oh shit, oh shit!" Lisa panted, snapping back to reality, standing and pulling off James' cock.

James' grunted quietly as she pulled out and shot a hot load of cum on her thigh.

God damn it,

she thought, her pussy still pulsing, yearning for release that had been aborted. Looking at James nearly passed out on the toilet, then down at the cum dribbling down her thigh.

"At least it didn't get on the dress," she mumbled.

"Lisa?! What did you say?" Mark said through the locked door.

Fuck, she'd forgotten about him for a moment.

"Ah, nothing! I'm good, just freshening up, be out in a sec!" she chirped brightly at him.

"Great, there's someone I want you to meet!"

James' post-nut clarity kicked in and he digested the situation. "Wait, you're married to Mark Parker?" he said, eyes wide.

Putting her hand over his mouth, she hissed "Shut the fuck up and listen. I've got to get out of here. You stay in this stall for the next 10 minutes then slip out. If I see you exit here before then I will fucking murder you."

He nodded, and Lisa left the stall, closing the door behind her, holding her dress in her hand. She was quite a sight in the mirror, naked, flushed, cum dribbling down her leg. She snuck a quick taste with her finger. Then another. Delicious. She had always been such a cum slut.

She tried banishing the thought but was a bit too late, feeling herself get wet again. Goddamn it, if her husband had only waited another 5 minutes before knocking...

Cleaning herself up quickly, she reapplied a little makeup, threw on her dress. Hopefully Mark would mistake her flushed cheeks for the affects of the wine she'd had rather than her arousal.

"Bye James, call me never," she said as she unlocked the bathroom door and exited.

Mark turned to her from a few feet away. "There you are," he said, a smile cracking his doughy face.

"Yes, here I am," she replied, taking her place by his side, back in trophy wife mode. In her heels she was at least two inches taller than him. Marked turned his head toward her for a kiss, and she obliged, slipping him a sly bit of tongue, wondering how he liked the lingering taste of James' cum.

**********

The next day while riding cradled in the soft leather of the reclined rear seat of the Mercedes Maybach, Lisa scanned her emails on her phone. Numerous unopened thank you messages related to last night's fundraiser populated her inbox. She scrolled past them leaving them to languish unread with thousands of others.

Switching to Instagram, she quickly posted a few photos of herself posing with the rich and famous at last night's event, and a few more modeling items from her shopping outing a few days before. Bags and shoes each costing more than the beater car she drove in high school. Switched over to her feed and hate-scrolled over pictures of some bitches she really loathed, frenemies from back during her single days. They were still hustling energy drinks and nip slips funneling simps to their onlyfans, turning clicks to dollars.

I don't miss those days a bit

, she thought, closing her phone and eyes and resting her head back. She felt herself begin to drift, as if floating. It had been a late night.

Just as she started to slip into sleep, Rina pulled the car up the long winding gravel driveway and onto the car park of the large modern concrete and glass house.

"We're here, Ms Parker," Rina said, looking in the rearview mirror at Lisa, before she killed the engine and exited the vehicle, walking around to open Lisa's door and help her from her luxurious back seat.

"Thank you, Rina," Lisa said as she stifled a yawn and stretched.

Rina pressed a finger to the scanner on the front door and the large wood and glass door swung open. Lisa caught herself admiring Rina's shapely ass and calves in her pencil skirt as she entered before her.

"I had the staff prepare the house for you. Let me know if there is anything else you need" Rina said as she turned and stood attentively in the foyer.

Lisa glanced around the house at the meticulously clean modern furniture, the low fire in the modern fireplace, and off to the left the large kitchen gleaming with stainless high-end appliances.

"The kitchen is fully stocked, and I believe the chef prepared the salad with ahi tuna you like, should be in the fridge."

Lisa turned her attention to Rina, and smiled slightly. The 23 year-old Japanese-American was the picture of competence. Over the past year she had been the perfect personal assistant to Lisa, who was not known for her organizational skills. California-born, Princeton-educated, and very overqualified for her job. Lisa paid her well, and it was worth every cent.

"I thought the fundraiser went wonderfully last night, didn't you?" she asked Rina, who nodded slightly. Rina had done the vast majority of the organizing for the event so that Lisa could simply show up in her diamonds and gown to take the credit.

"Everyone certainly seemed to enjoy themselves," Rina said, pausing, then added quickly "and I understand a substantial sum was raised for the charity."

Lisa eyed her, looking for signs of subtext in her comment, given her close call in the bathroom with John. Rina's dark eyes, long dark hair, and serious expression betrayed nothing however. In fact, in the year Lisa had employed Rina, she was not sure she had ever seen her smile.

Breaking the silence, Rina said "Well Ms Parker, if there's nothing else for now..."

"Please Rina, go be with your cousin, have fun!" Lisa said, patting Rina's arm, who shrank back slightly, but nodded. Rina had family who lived close by.

"Just text if you need something Ms Parker, I'm only 20 minutes away." It was understood that Rina was never really off the clock.

Finally alone, Lisa click-clacked across the hardwood floor in her heels to the kitchen, found the salad in the fridge, and dug in. It was mid-afternoon and she hadn't eaten today. The two hour ride from her penthouse in Manhattan to their mountain home in the Hudson Highlands had worn her out.

Enjoying the delicious tuna, she stared out the huge wall of floor-to-ceiling windows at the rear of the house, overlooking a steep heavily-wooded slope down to the lake hundreds of feet below. A nearly sheer cliff to the left rear of the house, and thick wooded forest to the right, with no neighbors for miles. Such a stark contrast to her usual home in Manhattan.

Her phone buzzed the arrival of a text.

Srry hon, work just got crazy, won't be able to make it up there. See you when you get back, enjoy

. A text from her husband, who was supposed to have joined her tomorrow.

She was very unsurprised. As director of a hedge fund his work often got in the way of the plans she made with her twice-divorced husband of eighteen months, who was thirty years her senior. Truth was she was relieved and looked forward to the time alone for a few days.

"What's that smell?" she said aloud to the empty house, her nose crinkling, as she caught a faint whiff of something musky. It wafted away quickly however. Strange. She'd have to ask Rina to make sure the staff looked into it if it returned.

Tossing her empty bowl in the sink and kicking off her heels, she padded across the great room and upstairs to the master bedroom. Her phone buzzed as she walked, hundreds of alerts on her Instagram posts, which she ignored.

Stripping off her causal cashmere dress, she stood assessing herself in the full-length bedroom mirror, admiring how her long blonde hair, full breasts, tight stomach, and long toned legs looked in her expensive black sheer underwear. Good genes and thousands of hours of yoga smiled back at her. She almost snapped a quick pic to put on the gram, before remembering that wasn't necessary anymore. Old habits die hard.

Running her hands along her body, she felt a bit of a tingle and realized she was horny. The frustration of her ruined orgasm last night still stung. God knows sex with her husband was infrequent and essentially transactional. The last orgasm she could even remember was two weeks prior with her tennis instructor, a sweaty quicky in the men's locker room at the club.

Walking out on the balcony in her bra and thong, she took in the view again. Stunning. So much green against the blue sky. The wind was cool, and brushed her skin. She breathed in the fresh air deeply, enjoying the purity after weeks spent in the city.

Then it was there again, a transient whiff of the same musky scent on the wind. Was it mulch? No, more like the locker room after one of her middle school soccer matches. Or maybe the smell of her childhood family dog curled up warm under some blankets? Leaning against the handrail on the balcony, she shivered and felt her nipples harden. She glanced in the direction of the breeze into the dark forest that stretched on around the mountain side for miles.

"Huh, must just be decaying trees or something" she said to herself, shrugging. She regularly smelled far worse back in NYC. This smell wasn't even exactly unpleasant.

Turning, she saw the staff had left white wine chilling just inside the bedroom, and poured herself a glass, downing it quickly. Goosebumps ran up and down her arms and torso, and she shivered. A bit cooler here than back in Manhattan. She rubbed her skin with her hands and noticed it seemed sensitive to her touch, sending shivers and tingles bouncing around inside her torso.

A hot shower seemed in order. She stripped off her bra and panties, leaving them on the floor. Walking into the granite-tiled shower, she set the water to piping hot and luxuriated in it. Dear god it felt good. Her skin felt alive, and her nipples were still rock hard. Her vagina tingled noticeably as she soaped up her breasts, belly, and buttocks.

After drying, she applied expensive lotion slowly to her body, and as she reached her torso she realized she was tingling everywhere, but in particular felt a rising warmth blooming in her vagina. Quizzically she gently touched her labia and shuttered with arousal, finding moisture there, and not from the shower.

"Jesus Christ, I am so fucking horny!" she said aloud. She thought about sexting with James about last night, but the thought of him left her cold at the moment for some reason. She considered for a second, shaking her head at her lack of preparedness when she realized she did not have any sex toys in the house and had not packed any.

Guess I'll have to do this the old-fashioned way

, she thought as she hopped on the bed.

Her skin seemed to vibrate as her hands began exploring her curves, stroking slowing over her upper chest then circling concentrically around her nipples, fingertips teasing. She felt warmth and wetness gathering in her vagina as her hands stroked lower. She flushing and moaned as her fingers began to stroke her pussy, softly at first. Her arousal ramped quickly however, and she inserted two fingers into her slippery slit. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure as her other hand found her clit and began gently swirling it. She pulled her fingers from her pussy and first smelled, then tasted them while working her clit faster. For some reason, thoughts of the strange musky smell from earlier danced through her mind for moment. Warmth spread from her groin through her lower body until her toes curled. She could feel her orgasm building, rising like a wave, her hips moving against her hand rhythmically, heart racing, panting.

But the wave never crashed.

Minutes passed, pleasure gradually turning to frustration as she fingered herself furiously, twisting her rock hard nipples, slipping a finger in and out of her ass. These had always been her finishing moves, and while they sent waves of pleasure through her, she could not finish.

Flipping onto her stomach, she grabbed a pillow close by and began riding it, grinding her clit into it furiously while flicking her nipples, picturing herself being pounded by James' girthy cock.

She ground her teeth in frustration. What the fuck? She'd never had difficulty getting herself off before.

Finally she flipped onto her back, still panting, covered in a sheen of sweat, aroused and angry.

This just proves I need a good dicking

, she thought, closing her eyes and trying to concentrate on slowing her breathing, trying to drift off to sleep.

Her vagina had other ideas. It gently throbbed, wanting relief. She thrashed around on the bed a bit, trying to get comfortable, but every movement and contact with the soft cotton sheets just seemed to heighten her desire.

"This is ridiculous," she almost shouted in frustration. She got up and walked to the bathroom, washing her face in ice cold water. It helped minimally. Looking around she spotted the tiny pink bikini the staff had laid out for her.

Maybe a quick dip in the pool will cool me down

, she thought. Then a nap perhaps.

If that doesn't work then I'll just text Rina to go buy a giant vibrator and bring it to me asap

, she thought, chuckling while imaging Rina's response to that request.

Back down the stairs and through the back sliding glass doors, the white marble decking felt cool on her delicate bare feet. The sun had already slid behind the trees, casting long shadows across the blue water of the pool.

She took a deep breath and lept into the pool, the cool water shocking to her skin. She stayed completely under water as long as she could, the water exhilarating though not quite quenching the fire she felt in her pussy.

Surfacing face first so the water pulled her long hair straight behind her, she inhaled deeply. The faint pool chemicals mingled with the smell of pine straw, and her breathing slowed a bit. She felt a bit calmer now. Swimming a few laps, she felt the muscle tension relax a bit, flowing out of her and into the swirling cool currents in the water.

Grabbing a large soft towel left folded by the pool by her staff as she exited, she dried her hair and body a bit while walking toward and then situating herself on a lounge chair positioned facing the best view out over the cliff.

Finally starting to relax, what remained of the sun quickly dried her bikini and warmed her skin. Stretching like a cat, her muscles began to relax as her eyelids fluttered closed.

Again she took a deep breath of the fresh air, but this time the musky aroma she noticed earlier assaulted her nostrils, exponentially more intense and persistent. At first she grimaced and covered her nose with the back of her hand, but after the initial olfactory assault, it was not altogether unpleasant. She cautiously breathed it in deeply, and it toyed with her, seeming to trigger deep memories. Summertime outside digging in the earth as a child. Hiding in the closet with all her mom's old leather shoes. Her underwear stain after her first period. Gym class. The skunky weed smell of her first joint. A sweaty ex-boyfriend greeted after a workout.

But as she inhaled deeply, she realized the overwhelming note in the aroma was sex. Pure primal fucking. Like the summer air she still recalled in a small stuffy dorm room after the best squirting ass-fuck of her life.

It was then she realized she not only found it not unpleasant, but intoxicating. She could taste it in the air. She practically huffed the smell, and noticed her arousal had returned with a fury. Her skin tingled, her nipples threatened to pierce the thin fabric of her bikini top, and her pussy vibrated with desire. She began exploring her body with her hands, shivering and shaking.

Her reverie was interrupted by a sound of rustling behind her. She started, afraid one of the house staff may have returned for some reason and might be watching her. She sat up and spun her legs around, standing quickly to locate the sound, not the least bit prepared for what she saw.