Discovering Desires:Erotic Adventures

by Harley Callahan

  “Yes, thanks for seeing me,” I said with my best grin. Stuart exuded sexuality and I was in no state to ignore it. He was gorgeous, in a smooth, rich, older-guy kind of way.

  “I’m sorry for having put you off this morning but it has been a very busy day with the convention that started this morning. Perhaps I can make up for my previous rudeness by offering you a drink and dinner? I will make myself available to you for the evening. We can go over your event and anything else you’d like to discuss.”

  “Fine. I don’t have any dinner plans, and well, um, yes. That sounds great,” I said, thinking this might turn out to be worth the hassle of my delayed Atlanta trip.

  “If you’ll excuse me for a few minutes while I finish up this last piece of business I’ll join you at the bar.”

  I backed out of the room and found the lounge. Sipping my usual margarita on the rocks, I surveyed the bar area. My pussy still throbbed. How could I do it here, in a public club, and not get caught? Those two this afternoon got away with it. Now that the place is open, it would be a challenge. I picked up my glass and left the bar to explore the rest of the club, explaining to the bartender that I was waiting for the Club Manager.

  The expansive dining room had ceiling-to-floor windows and a panoramic view over the river. The windows also had waist-high bars, presumably serving as a safety rail to keep guests from walking through the clear glass panes. The rail extended to the corners of the room. Drapes flanked the windows on each end. Hmmm… I returned to the bar having hatched a plan.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Stuart said as he eased himself onto the worn leather overstuffed bar stool. The bartender placed Stuart’s standard Tanqueray and tonic in front of him, and he raised his glass to toast me. I had noticed his confident stride into the bar. He wore no wedding ring and clearly checked me out before speaking again.

  After drinks we took a table in the dining area. The club was filling up with men and women stopping in for a drink after work. Stuart and I discussed the complicated demands for my new client’s wedding, a mere two months away. He assured me that the club would stage an unforgettable affair.

  Emboldened by a second glass of port after a delectable dinner, I glanced around to see that no one was paying much attention to us. I removed my right shoe, eased my foot up, stretched it underneath the table, and nestled my toes between his legs.

  The expression on Stuart’s face did not change, but I observed a difference in his eyes. I leaned forward as I unbuttoned another button on my blouse to provide better observation of my generous mounds. Watching that subtle motion, Stuart released an encouraging grin, letting his eyes drop to my cleavage.

  He scooted his chair closer to the table. I could feel his growing interest with my toes. I raised my glass to clink with his. Both of us finished our wine in one gulp.

  “We could go to my office to conclude our business,” Stuart said.

  “No, I don’t think so.” I didn’t want to use the desktop in his office. I had another plan. “We can go somewhere, but not to your office. I’ve seen a place I think you should show me, here in the club.”

  “I would be delighted to show you anything, young lady.”

  “I plan on you showing me something,” I teased. “Would you be kind enough to follow me?”

  “Right now, Madame, I would follow you anywhere.”

  We stood at the same time. I took his hand and led him toward the glass windows overlooking the river. I stood close to Stuart. He put his arm around my waist. We stared out the window. I lowered my left hand to his crotch and massaged his growing cock. His breathing grew audible.

  A few seconds later Stuart’s hand moved to my right side and cupped my breast under my arm. He lightly pinched my nipple. I felt the warmth between my legs and knew my juices were starting to flow.

  Stuart tried to tug me toward his office.

  “No, I told you. I have a plan,” I whispered.

  “If we stay out here like this I think we’ll become a public spectacle,” he said.

  “That’s the thrill of it. Will we be caught or not?” The danger of discovery heightened my pleasure. It was what drove me to these adventures.

  “Follow me,” I said, giving him one more squeeze through his pants.

  “Don’t walk too fast. I may have a hard time keeping up,” he said.

  “Oh, I’m sure you can keep up, Stuart. This way.” I led him toward the end of the glass windows, which extended behind the ceiling-to-floor curtains, beyond the vision of anyone in the dining area or bar area. It was still an open place that anyone could walk up to gaze out on the river.

  When we were against the wall, as far away from any public area as we could get, I turned toward him, put one hand on his chest and with the other I released his cock from its khaki prison. I left his pants sitting on his hips in case we needed to make a rapid recovery.

  “Would you like me to make this good and hard?” I asked.

  Stuart opened his mouth to speak but coughed instead. He was clearly interested in my plan. “If that wouldn’t be too difficult for you,” he said grinning, and then turned to make it easier for me.

  I knelt down on both knees. With my left hand I raised his member and put the tip of his large helmeted cock into my mouth. It was hot and tasted salty yet clean. My tongue swirled around its head inside my mouth and I took more of it into my mouth. Stuart put one hand on the window to steady himself.

  With his other hand he took my hair and gently guided me down until I could feel that big head in the back reaches of my mouth. I considered deep throating him but I didn’t want to finish him before I got him into my begging pussy. Stuart moaned as his hand rode my head up and down. I would have loved to lick his balls and see them move under my tongue but he was getting close. I released him, stood on my toes and gave Stuart a light kiss.

  “I have a place for you to put this,” she said.

  “Where –“ Stuart cleared his throat.

  “Shhhh,” I warned.

  Stuart tried again, whispering hoarsely, “Where would you like it, Marnie?”

  I turned around and pulled up my skirt. I leaned toward the window and put my hands on the wooden bar. Bending forward, I spread my legs and turned to catch Stuart’s eye.

  “How about there?”

  Stuart placed one hand on my ass and the other on his dick, guiding it into me. His bulbous head spread my wet lips. God, he felt good entering me. He put both hands on each side of my hips and slowly inched his way further inside. I squeezed him, pulsing my pussy muscles to match his slow insistent thrusts. I held onto the bar as Stuart pumped me from behind.

  If it hadn’t been for boxer-briefs, I could have felt his balls bouncing against my ass. But Stuart had to keep his pants on for a quick exit, in case someone stepped around the drapes. We were both enjoying the clandestine moments toward climax.

  At last he gave a hard shove and I felt all of him fill me completely. He bent down over my back and cupped his hands on my tits. He squeezed. My tits have always been connected directly to my pussy. One time a guy had sucked my nipples so hard I came without him doing anything else. This would not be one of those times, but Stuart’s attention sure felt great.

  With Stuart still inside, I moved my ass in a circle, driving him deeper. One of my hands made it down to my clit and I rubbed that love spot until I spasmed.

  “Here. Take it all.” Stuart said, as he bucked and climaxed almost instantly.

  I finished but my knees were weak. Stuart took my hand and helped me stand. He looked silly with his happy dick hanging out of his pants.

  “Ya better put that thing away,” I suggested.

  “Right. Well.”

  “Stuart, thanks so much. I think that concludes our arrangements for the wedding reception here,” I said as I straightened my dress, gave him a wink and headed toward the door. I felt Stuart’s eyes boring into the back of my head as I pushed the oak doors open into the summer evening. The cool air felt so g
ood on my hot damp skin.

  A Great Ride

  I learned to ride horses at my uncle’s farm in rural Georgia. He grew cotton and soybeans on a hundred-acre parcel and kept several horses on the extra five acres of land which lay fallow. After high school, however, I rarely had an opportunity to visit Uncle Edison. When the Savannah College of Art and Design opened an equestrian center, I made an appointment to check out the property as a potential event site, and to see the horses. I missed the feel of the mighty beasts between my legs.

  With four apples in my purse, I drove out of downtown Savannah, across the Talmadge Bridge, onto Highway 17. A few minutes later I reached the newly-paved road that led me to an assemblage of wooden barns surrounded by white-fenced paddocks, lush grazing fields and professional performance rinks. I parked next to the barn.

  Fresh green hay perfumed the entry and I smiled as I walked toward the stalls, pulling one of the apples from my purse. Three saddles hung from large S-hooks on the wall. Two appeared new, and the third was broken-in, clean and well-oiled. I moved closer to smell the familiar spicy leather of the old one. A baritone voice startled me.

  “Ma’am. Can I help you?”

  I jumped and the apple flew out of my hand.

  “Oh! Yes, hi. I have an appointment. My name is Marnie--” I glanced to my left to see a chestnut horse pawing under the stall door trying to reach the apple. I said to the man, “I brought some apples. For the horses. I hope that’s okay?”

  “Sure, won’t hurt ‘em none. Who’re you here to see again?”

  “Albert Franklin. I choreograph weddings and large parties. I rode horses as a kid, into my teenage years, and I was curious about this place. I might have a client interested in staging an event here.

  The man removed his brown suede cowboy hat, tossed it onto a pine table, wiped his right hand on his jeans, and offered it to me. His round blue eyes were like an inviting Caribbean lagoon.

  “I’m Albert Franklin. Pleased to meet you, Ma’am.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Franklin.”

  “Please call me Albert. Most do. I run the place, and I teach equine anatomy at the college, but that don’t hold much sway with the horses.”

  I shook his hand. “Ok, Albert. Call me Marnie.” His dry, vise-like grip was crushing my fingers. I tried not to show my discomfort but my widened eyes and clenched jaw gave me away.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt ya. You probably get this all the time, but you have gorgeous eyes that look great with your red hair.”

  I blushed. Damn that Irish skin. “Thanks. Can we, um, I mean, can I have a look around?”

  Albert nodded further into the barn. “Sure. We can go this way.” Still feeling his steel grip, I followed him along the red Savannah-brick walkway. About six inches taller than me, he was square-built and fully filled out his denim jacket. His tight wrangler’s ass swayed slightly as he took long strides in his well-worn boots. Mmmm, very inviting, I thought.

  The stables were attractive, too. In addition to a copious supply of fresh hay and running water, each stall had its own steel-bladed fan to cool the horses and keep the flies away. These horses were loved and well cared-for by a seasoned cowboy. The clean barn smell and the sight of his gentle hand as he stroked a nearby horse’s neck were turning me on.

  I shook my head to get the arousal under control. This was a business meeting and I had established a protocol for evaluating new wedding venues.

  Midway through the barn, Albert stopped and turned to me.

  “You mentioned you like horses. Ever ride much?”

  I grinned. “Quite a bit, actually. I spent summers on my uncle’s cotton farm. He had quarter horses. I didn’t ride professionally or anything like that. I loved riding through the fields. We took lunch into the low hills, had picnics while the horses grazed, and napped in the shade. Idyllic.”

  Albert nodded again. “Horses are the best animals on earth. This here’s Mister Harry P. One of the students named him that for the white lightnin’ bolt down his nose. See?” Albert was rubbing Mister Harry P’s muzzle with the gentlest strokes. With each pass the horse’s nostrils flared in pleasure. I stared at the movement, imagining Albert stroking me in that way and my nipples hardened. I cleared my throat.

  “Albert, could we see the event space?”

  “You in a hurry? If not, you could have a ride if you want. I’m nearly finished for the day and I could saddle ‘em up for us, maybe take a little tour of the place on horseback?”

  “That would be great! I’ve missed horses so much. I’m not exactly dressed for riding, though. I hate to ask, but do you think you might have something I could borrow, like maybe a pair of boots, and a jacket or something like that?” I was wringing my hands like a worried old woman and showing him my yellow sling-backed heels, hardly appropriate for a decent mount.

  “The kids keep some extra stuff in the changing rooms. Let’s go have a look around,” he suggested. I matched Albert’s long strides as we walked out of the horse barn and toward another wooden building.

  Rolling back the tall wooden doors bearing the characteristic X, Albert pointed and said, “Over there on the right is the girls’ changing room. There are boxes with boots in ‘em, you might find something to fit your cute little feet.”

  “My feet aren’t so little, Albert. But I’ll have a look.” I stepped into the cavernous room, and then twisted my head back toward Albert. “Are you flirting with me?”

  His crooked Elvis smile was endearing. “Maybe I am, maybe not. What would you do if I was?”

  “I don’t know. My father told me never to trust someone with two first names, Albert Franklin,” I said, turning back into the changing area. In a wooden box I found a pair of riding boots a size too big, but they were the only ones close to a fit for me. I took off my heels and slipped them on. With the oversized black leather riding boots, a knee-length cotton skirt, and a ruffled yellow blouse, I could have carried off a weak Annie Oakley imitation. Without socks, though, the boots would create blisters on my feet.

  I looked up and saw Albert leaning on the door frame, arms crossed and one toe crossed over his other foot, watching me.

  “You aim to wear them boots with no socks?”

  I showed him my shoes again. “I came here with these and nothing else. Any ideas?”

  “Hell, I got plenty of ideas. Maybe even a sock or two. But you ain’t wearin’ no panties, Marnie. ‘Fraid I don’t have any extra of them.”

  I uncrossed my legs and stood up from the barn stool, smoothing my skirt. “So you noticed.”

  “How could I miss? You bent over that box there and showed me your naked round bottom. Then you parked on that stool, crossed your legs, and left no question in my mind.”

  “Hmm. Well, how about that ride before it gets dark?” I really wanted to take one of the horses into the surrounding fields, and if Albert and I got further distracted we might skip the ride altogether.

  “Sure. You pick out your horse and I’ll saddle ‘em up.” Albert strolled back into the horse barn.

  I took my time looking at each horse and chose one that looked like one that my Uncle Edison had stabled. “This one is beautiful, Albert. Can I take him?”

  “You good enough to ride a bangtail? He can be wild sometimes.”

  “I think I can handle him.”

  “If you’re sure. He’s sometimes a handful. Hates snakes. Stay here and I’ll get some blankets and a saddle for ‘im. And a nice soft blanket on top of it all for your bottom. My horse is ready to go.”

  Albert put his clasped hands below the stirrups to help me onto the horse. I put my left foot into his hands, and my hand on his shoulder, and hoisted myself onto the huge beast. Albert adjusted the stirrup straps to meet my feet. I grabbed the reins, turned the horse around, and headed out of the barn, followed by Albert astride his black and white mare.

  We rode for about an hour, including the grazing and training areas. We stopped at a cedar pavilion built o
n stilts at the eastern edge of the property. Overlooking the marsh and surrounded by hundred-foot pines and oaks, the setting was perfect for a low-country wedding. The pavilion looked like it might hold a couple hundred guests, at least. I dismounted and led my horse to the edge of the water for a drink.

  It was high tide, my favorite time on the coast. Common moorhens, little blue herons, egrets, and other wading birds hunted the edges of the marsh as a flock of red-winged blackbirds flitted in and out of the marsh grass snatching seeds and bugs. I always believed that the marsh was where mammal life began, when that first lizard crawled out of the mud onto dry land and evolved into more complex creatures over millions of years.

  “Hey, this is spectacular!” I called to my escort who was cantering toward me. He stopped and looked down at me from his saddle, smiling.

  “Just what are you smiling about? Isn’t this place magical? So beautiful.”

  “It’s your feet. How can you walk in them boots? Don’t your feet just slosh around in there?” He was laughing now. “You ride well.”

  “Thanks. I’m just a wedding planner trying to make a living. Wanna get down and show me around some more?” I asked.

  Albert swung his right leg around the back of his horse and landed gracefully behind me. He reached into his saddlebag and brought out a thermos, poured some coffee into the lid’s drinking cup, and handed it to me. As I took it from his hand, our fingers touched. The electric attraction between us was palpable. I wrapped my fingers around his cupped hand, smiling into his flushed face.

  He moved behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders as I sipped the strong black coffee. He must have been looking down at me because I felt his breath on the top of my head and his body heat through my thin blouse. I wondered where this closeness would lead when his sharp breath intake interrupted the silence. I dropped the cup, turned toward his face, and locked my eyes with his.

  Albert took one step backward. “You’ll want to be takin’ off those boots, Marnie” he said, exhaling loudly, and nodding his head toward the building. “Go on up to the pavilion and set on one o’ the benches that look out over the marsh. I’ll be along in a minute.”