by C. C. Morian
Jack, being Jack, you would have thought he’d like hooker outfits, tight, form fitting dresses, short skirts, strappy heels, low cuts. But that wasn’t him. His biggest thrill had been to hook up with the prim and proper ones, the business women, their hair tied back, tasteful makeup. Janet had been far from prim and proper when she had met Jack, but that’s how he had first seen her dressed, what had drawn him to her.
The fact that Janet had been a wild woman underneath all that conservative clothing only made Jack all the more hot for her.
She stopped suddenly, a whirlwind movement on the tee. Jack, swinging a golf club. She laughed, it was so Jack.
“You need to tuck your left elbow in,” she called, her voice clear in the night air.
“I know, I know, but that’s for accuracy, I get a lot more—,” Jack made a wicked swing, the swish of the club loud even from where Janet stood, “—power if I get my arms free, get my hips in it, sometimes I just need to drive as far as I can.”
Janet walked up to the tee box, the absurdity of it, Jack taking practice swings, making stupid sexual innuendos in the darkness.
“Here, you try,” said Jack, handing her the club.
He looked even better than he had on the skype, much better, the picture doing nothing to capture his naked sexuality, his cocky, confident aura. He wasn’t as good looking as Mason, or even Brad, his shoulders actually a little too broad, if that was possible, his coloring too light for her taste. But his confidence was a killer, Jack thought he could have anything he wanted, and because his attitude convinced so many people he would, he often got it.
Janet took the club, playing along. She flicked her wrists, giving the club partial swings. “Kind of light and whippy,” she said. “Not what I would have thought you’d have.”
“You can’t play golf with a baseball bat,” said Jack, not missing a beat. “Come one, take a swing, let’s see if you still got it.”
“Hard to play golf in a skirt and heels.”
“Golf is played with handicaps.”
“Hmm. What’s yours?”
“I’m what they call a scratch golfer. I don’t need help.”
“Or maybe you just have an itch? Something that always needs scratching?”
“I remember a few scratches you left, but mostly on my back.”
“Mostly,” agreed Janet. She took the club and positioned herself as if to hit a ball. She hadn’t played golf in years, but the club felt comfortable in her hands.
Just the way Brad’s cock had felt in her hands. And in her mouth. In her pussy. Comfortable.
She took a swing, laughing, the heels making it impossible. Was Mason in position, watching? She could run back to him now and say: See? That’s what Jack and I used to do here, isn’t it hot?
“You should be laughing, that swing is terrible,” said Jack. “Here, let me help.”
And just like that, Jack’s arms were around her, his chin pressing on her neck, his shoulders a mass of power, his hands blanketing hers. His cologne wafting over her, mixing with the earthy smell of the grass. Janet’s knees shook, her legs giving way, and not because of thin heels.
“Stand up taller,” admonished Jack. “You have to be firm and loose at the same time.”
“Firm and loose? That sounds like a contradiction.”
“I’ll be firm.” Jack ground his pelvis into her. “You be loose.” He tilted her shoulders forward, forcing her ass back into his erection.
“You calling me loose?”
“You’re with me, here of all places, by yourself, you’re a married woman. What would you call yourself?” Jack’s tone didn’t have a hint of condensation, of any kind of judgment, he was just stating a fact.
“I would have expected you thought more of yourself, showing up to meet a loose woman, you don’t know who else she might have been with.” Not denying what he had said at all. Battling the urge to tell him about Mason, about Mason watching, about Mason having fucked her earlier that night.
“I could say the same for you.” Jack’s hands tightened over hers, his mouth pressed against her ear, his voice a seduction. “Remember what we did the last time we were here?”
She did. “We’re not doing that.” But her body tensed, clenching, she was dripping, remembering it exactly, what he was talking about, even though she’d been here with Jack more than once. That last time, she’d done that particular act before, but never with him, and certainly never in public. . .
“We’ll see about that.”
Janet dropped the club, her hands reaching for his, her fingers grasping. She wanted to turn around, she didn’t want to be in this position, not after what he had said, but Jack held her firm.
A brief flash, headlights passing by, the sound of a car in the main lot.
“Probably just some kids looking for a quiet place to make out,” said Jack, his voice without a hint of concern. “Come on. We can give them a show.”
I crouched in the darkness, balanced on one hand, damp, fresh cut grass in my fingers. I’d worn dark clothing, but I needn’t have bothered, nothing but an expanse of blackness behind me. The mound totally hid the lights in the parking lot, far on the other side of the clubhouse.
As Janet had promised, the security light was lit, bright nearest the equipment building, but its glow stretched to the first tee, a gauzy spotlight for the two figures there. Jack and my wife.
Janet was bent over a small metal bench, the kind of benches I’d seen a hundred times, the benches near the tee boxes, in case golfers had to wait for the group in front of them.
Except no one was playing golf, no one was waiting. Except me.
Janet was facing away from me, Jack behind her, his hands on her hips, moving, I couldn’t tell what he was doing. But I could imagine.
That wasn’t good enough, I wanted to see. That’s why I was here after all. I tiptoed ahead and to the right, my steps soundless even to me. Yet I could have been yelling, and I doubt Jack would have looked up, he had other things on his mind.
Now I saw them in profile, Janet, my beautiful wife, holding herself up with her hands on the seat of the bench. At that moment Jack roughly yanked up her skirt, freeing her legs.
“That thigh gap looks even better in person.”
“How about this?” asked Janet, rewarding him by spreading her legs even more.
“I see you didn’t bother with panties.” Jack’s voice ringing out as he slapped Janet’s bare ass.
“You never know when you might need to do something in a hurry,” said Janet. I knew her voice, I could tell how she was forcing herself to sound calm, to stay in control. But I could also hear the tension, the excitement. The anticipation.
“You obviously aren’t referring to a golf lesson. You came for something else, didn’t you?”
“You still talk too much, Jack.”
Janet was goading him on. She wanted to get on with it, with whatever they were going to do. I shifted my position, my cock straining against my pants.
“Can’t wait, can you? That thing we did on skype wasn’t enough, was it? You just missed me so much.”
“Talk, talk, talk.”
“Stay there. Don’t move a fucking muscle.” Jack stepped around the other side of the bench, unhooking his belt. “I’ll shut up if you will. Here.”
Jack leaned forward, and though I was too far away to see, it was pretty obvious what was happening, no words from Janet, her arm moving back and forth, her head sliding up and down.
She was sucking on Jack’s cock.
My own erection threatened to topple me. I clumsily unzipped, reaching in to free myself, not wanting to take the chance of dropping my pants, I couldn’t very well jerk off standing up. Or maybe I could, I’d never tried. There was nothing around to lean against.
“That’s right, make it thick,” said Jack. “I know you like it thick.”
Still no words from Janet, didn’t she even want to stop for a second to reply?
“You still kno
w how to suck cock,” said Jack, real approval in his voice. “And I should know.”
Janet’s arm moved faster, and so did mine.
“Don’t make me finish, not like that,” said Jack. “I want to save it for something else.”
A car started up in the lot, and I nervously spun, zipping up in one motion, thinking the worst, some cop making the rounds, catching me jerking off in public.
What would be a worse offense, to get caught jerking off, or getting caught jerking off watching someone have sex?
What would a cop do if he saw what I was looking at? Arrest me? Arrest Jack and Janet?
Or watch?
The sound of the car came toward me, then drifted around the clubhouse. I must have looked like an idiot, half crouched in the darkness, waiting for the sound to fully disappear.
“Wait, wait!” Janet’s voice spun me around. Jack was now between me and her, blocking my view. Then she stood up, I could barely see her behind his broad shoulders, was she going to kiss him? No, she was bending over, once again leaning over the bench. An invitation.
Jack yanked her skirt up and positioned himself behind her.
He was going to fuck her!
I stood frozen, so taken in, I didn’t even have the ability to again free my cock, which had hardened again after being interrupted by the car.
Jack grabbed Janet by the hips, pulling himself to her. I couldn’t see well enough, his position partially blocking the light, he was too close to her, no space, what was happening?
Janet yelped, a sound I’d never heard her make, alien, distressed. Was she in pain? Could Jack be that big?
I reflexively took two steps forward, I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt Janet.
The need for my rescue died when I heard Janet moan, not in any kind of pain, but in intense pleasure. Her voice guttural, loud, like she didn’t care who heard.
Like she wanted me to hear.
Jack’s body slammed forward, the driver he had joked about, his hips and arms and entire body in it, in Janet.
Another yelp from Janet, then she met his thrusts, her powerful legs creating her own drive, back toward him, taking him deep, wanting him deeper.
I collapsed onto the grass, too dizzy to stand.
Again and again Jack drove into her, his grunts animalistic, spurred on by Janet’s moans.
“Come on Jack, get your hips into it,” said Janet, her voice goading.
“Now who’s talking too much,” Jack replied, increasing his pace.
“You’re not fucking me hard enough if I can still talk—oh! Fuck!” Again Janet cried out, then nothing as Jack rammed her into silence.
I fumbled with my pants, I was ready to explode without even touching myself, the damp grass teasing my naked ass, I didn’t care, I’d want to show these grass stains to Janet, so she’d know what I was doing. I grabbed my cock and jerked wildly, thinking not only of what I was witnessing, but of what Janet had said, how excited she got thinking of me jerking off. Was she thinking of me now? Could she possibly be thinking of me when getting fucked so hard?
I squeezed my foreskin, my hand hard around my shaft, all the way to the bottom, waiting, waiting. . .
“Give it to me!” yelled Janet.
That was my cue, her rescue of me, and I shot my load into the darkness, powerful jets lost in the night, so connected to Janet that I knew she was coming at that very moment, just as I knew Jack was too.
I had driven home like a maniac, Janet beside me, her hand in my crotch, her hair wild. Neither one of us spoke, without even mentioning it we somehow knew that the car was not the time or place.
She had kissed me though, when she had first returned to the car. This time I had tasted nothing, no musk, no sex. But her mouth screamed it, her nipples hard nubs against her blouse.
Inside the house we ran to the shower, stripping our clothes off on the way, helping each other, leaving a trail of passion.
I turned the water on and we stepped into the large shower stall, the water scalding, yet still not as hot as I was, as Janet was.
My mouth was on her, my hands everywhere, on her breasts, between her legs. She grabbed my stiff cock and stroked it between us, rubbing the tip against her belly.
“Could you see?” she gasped.
“A little. Enough. Not enough. Tell me.”
Janet, breathless. “First tell me what I want to hear.”
“I love you.”
“And I love you too. More than ever. What do you want to know?”
She pulled at my shaft, drawing me even closer toward her.
“I heard you cry out. What was that all about?”
“He’s just so—thick.”
“Weren’t you wet?”
“I was, but—”
I slipped my fingers between her legs, into her, she was soaking, the juices so different from the pounding water. So slippery. Could Jack’s cock be so big that even her juices weren’t enough? “You’re dripping still.”
“That’s because of you.”
“It’s okay, you can say it. It’s because of me, and him.”
“It’s because of all of it, because of us. Me and you.”
“Did he come in you?”
Janet didn’t answer right away, I couldn’t tell if she was teasing me, making me wait. “No,” she finally said.
“But you’re so wet, and I watched him, I thought he was fucking you, he had your skirt up, his pants were down, he was—wait, did he pull out?”
Janet laughed. “Jack’s not the type to pull out.”
Janet turned around to face the wall, her body slick in the shower, a sensual snake. She put one hand on the marble wall to steady herself, then pushed her feet back, forcing me backward, until I was bent over her. “Don’t you remember the position I was in? Like this?”
I grabbed her hips, my cock pushing toward her pussy, just a little confused. “But I thought you said—”
Janet’s other hand was on my cock, guiding it, pulling me toward her. “Not in my pussy. He fucked me here.”
Stunned, I felt my cock against Janet’s ass, her cheeks spread, her fingers on the head, leading me to a place I’d never been.
“Wait,” she said. “I want you to think about it first.”
I couldn’t think, certainly not clearly. I’d never fucked Janet in the ass. I’d never even considered it. It just wasn’t something I thought you’d ever do with your wife.
My cock, poised at her opening, my hands on her hips, her beautiful ass thrust toward me, the water running down her crack, pointing the way.
“He fucked your ass?” I finally sputtered, knowing I probably sounded ridiculous.
“Hard,” she admitted. “Really hard.”
“That’s why you cried out.”
“I want you to fuck me like that. Like Jack did. Only better.”
“Better?”
“I made him wait long enough for me to slip a condom on him. But I want you to come inside me.”
“In your ass?”
“Yes, please!”
And suddenly all my hesitations about fucking my wife in her ass went down the drain, like the water which couldn’t compete with our heat.
I reached around to her pussy for lubrication. I dipped my fingers inside her, her pussy wide open, feeling the slickness, carrying it to her ass.
“This will be faster,” she said, guiding my cock into her pussy, I felt no resistance, not even her folds, she was so wet, so open. Her fingers were on her clit, pushing inside herself with me, grabbing at her wetness, rubbing it over my cock each time I pulled it out for another thrust.
When I thought I couldn’t possibly get any more slick I pulled back, letting my cock slide up the crack of her ass, I was shaking with anticipation, now wanting this more than anything.
“Not like that,” said Janet, turning to me. “I want to see you.” She reached back and turned off the shower, grabbing my hand, pulling me out of the bathroom and toward the bed, our bodies dr
enched, dripping on the floor, on the cover.
Janet dragged me on top of her, lifting her legs wide, her knees bent, her hands grabbing her own ass, spreading it.
My weight was on her, my cock accepting her invitation, forward, forward, past the slickness of her pussy, down, down. Our bodies were so close, I couldn’t see, but I knew when I was there.
“Fuck me,” she breathed.
I moved forward slowly, lubricated or not, I didn’t want to hurt her, but Janet lifted her hips off the bed, opening herself to me, taking me.
“Don’t be afraid,” she said, “don’t ever be afraid of what we do.”
Her words a release, a promise, and I pushed into her, my eyes locked on hers, and just as I had once noticed every little thing about her body in a new light, now I made new discoveries in her eyes, the complete and utter desire, the tinge of pain as I pressed past her outer ring, the joy of her acceptance, of me, of my cock, of us.
So many discoveries, discoveries of our arousals, of my thrill. Of her wants.
Of her needs.
Even though Janet had fantasized about god knows how many men, had slept with two of them as a married woman, even though one of them had just fucked her ass, I’d never felt so close to her.
A closeness that went way beyond the ultimate physical connection we now shared.
Her ass tightened around me, a hot enveloping. I tried to slow down, I was going to lose control too fast, I needed to do something for her. I groped for her clit.
“No, just you,” Janet whispered. “This is only for you.” Her fingers tightened around my ass, pulling me impossibly deep, it had to hurt, but her eyes were filled with nothing but bliss. “Come in me,” she whispered. “Only you will ever come in me like this.”
And I did, my cock pulsing, thickening, engorged, yet unable to stretch, hemmed in by her tight ass, forcing my seed deep inside her. It was the most intense orgasm I’d ever had, an incredible, indescribable sensation, my cock squeezed and caressed and milked all at the same time.