Hmmmmmm...
Well, all that aside, my point is, my plan for the next item on my Fuck-It List (see the upcoming description if you really still need me to tell you what that is) was to sleep with a married man, preferably older than myself, and any moral implications this may have about my personal character should more or less be explained away by that long-winded rant I just presented to you. I didn't feel bad at all about the idea of violating a sacred contract that I didn't believe in, and the very taboo nature of it turned me on like you wouldn't fucking believe.
That's not to say, of course, that the guy should or shouldn't feel bad about it. That was his decision. He was the one who'd made the contract with another human being, even if the person he'd made it with had practically morphed into someone else entirely than the woman he'd married.
I mean, if I was the woman he'd been cheating on, then sure, I would probably be pretty pissed about it, but who's to say I would have a right to? It could be argued that I'd unfairly lured a man into a binding contract with sex, and expected him to manage a nearly insatiable sex drive with just a single life partner, a system which once served a practical enough purpose- maintaining blood lines, providing stable family units for child rearing, etc.- but which, in a world of seven fucking billion people and highly successful, easily accessible birth control, had all but run its course as far as I was concerned.
And okay... As you can see, maybe I was still trying to talk myself into this one.
I was hella turned on by the idea, but that didn't inherently make it easy to go through with.
At the same time, enough time had lapsed since my previous item on the list that I felt it was in my best interest to move forward, lest I get stagnant and drain away my willpower to continue pursuing the course I had in mind.
I logged onto my work computer, where for some reason I tended to check all of my casual sex correspondence, and signed into a dating website I'd joined for married men looking for discreet affairs with young lassies such as myself. Incidentally, I'd considered filling out my profile on this website with “Pina coladas and getting caught in the rain” listed under my interests, but I feared I wouldn't be taken seriously if I did, so I settled instead for putting “Looking for a discreet, short-term affair with an older gentleman, preferably with a little salt in his pepper ;)”
As was becoming routine in my efforts with dating sites, I scrolled through a host of unpromising results, a lot of sad looking men who'd messaged me for whom it was no surprise they weren't getting the pussy at home that they needed, until at last I stumbled upon a user whose profile seemed more promising, his face only partially revealed, but what I could see of it rather sharp, distinguished looking, and pretty damn sexy. Not to mention his username was SilverFox63, so that pretty much sold the deal for me right there.
I read through his message, which I must say was quite steamy, and began to rub my thighs together beneath the privacy of my cubicle, getting hot and bothered just reading about the things this guy described wanting to do to me when I got there.
I decided this seemed like a pretty damn good deal, and went ahead and asked him for when and where he wanted to meet.
Then I minimized the window, opened up my actual work, and slogged my way painfully through another long, sexually distracted day at the office.
Chapter 2
I left straight from work, thinking he might think it would be kinky to take me as I was, a sort of dirty office girl fantasy if you will. I would let him sharpen his pencil between my legs, and spill his white correction fluid all over my tits, and cover me with his sticky tack, etc., etc., etc., you get the idea.
However, at the moment I was growing rather irritable at the depressing flow of afternoon traffic, bumper to bumper to bumper, horns honking and middle fingers being presented for consideration, and it was causing my head to throb rather obnoxiously with migraine.
I sighed, and closed my eyes about halfway, enough to see out should traffic crawl forward by a couple of inches in my reverie, and I tried to concentrate on something more pleasant than my present circumstances- my beloved Fuck-It List (this is the explanation I promised stupid and forgetful readers earlier on in the story.)
I'd crafted my Fuck-It List, or my To-Screw list, as I call it when I want to be PG-13 about things, following the realization that my life was becoming as dull and drab as watching gray paint peeling off the side of a barn wall. I'd gotten stuck in a dull, sexless rut, working, working, working, going home, sleeping, and going back into work again, letting my sexually viable years slip by like water through my fingers, a mighty damn shame if ever there was one.
To remedy this remarkable tragedy, and to push myself into trying something new that would pull me up out of my fuck funk, I comprised a list of ten steamy erotic challenges to myself, all things I wanted to try but had never thought to pursue in the past, and which would hopefully do the trick of stirring me from my sort of sexual ice age.
If I sexcessfully completed this current, pork a married man challenge, that would mark the halfway point on my list, leaving me with five remaining sexual challenges to myself, all of which I anticipated being just a tad bit raunchier than the first five (if such a feat were possible.)
My first sexcapade, as such things go, was actually fairly basic, and is probably pretty standard in a lot of women's sex lives, even if involuntarily so. I decided to engage in anal sex for the first time in my life, not really knowing how fucking excruciating it would be until my random sex partner's cock was already lodged up my tight little booty, at which point it was a little bit late to turn tail (pun intended) and run. In the end (pun intended) though, the agony paid off. The bottom line (pun intended) was that the fury of an anal orgasm easily compensated for the pain that led up to it, and even though I thought I might prefer to keep the whole act behind me (pun intended) for a while after that, I was glad that I'd tried it at the beginning instead of having it bring up the rear (pun intended.)
Okay, maybe that last one was a little bit forced (pun intended.)
Although butt sex is still technically illegal in some states, there wasn't really much risk of the penal system getting involved (okay I'll stop now.) So for my next item, I wanted to do something where there was an actual fear of being caught involved, and proceeded to fuck a random stranger in a public park after he responded to one of my online personal ads. That went pretty well, that is until I snapped the sink off the wall from the force of his thrusts and he took off running, and I was left in a stupor as a cop pulled up and got ready to arrest me for my depravity. Luckily for me, his own depravity was just as great, and I escaped the stoney lonesome by sucking on his bony lonesome, adding a nice little side-accomplishment to my list of erotic milestones- sexual bribery of a law enforcement official.
God, I needed some new goals in my life...
Anyway, after that whole debacle, my next challenge was to engage in sweet sweet lovemakin' with a fellow member of my fair female sex, a feat that I wasn't entirely sure about, as its fulfillment had some mighty damn heavy implications when it came to questions of my established sexuality. But as it turned out, Olivia, the girl I met online for this very experimentation, was an absolute marvel in the sack, and the two of us shared an exquisite sexual chemistry, doing more scissoring in a weekend than an entire art class full of kindergarteners. And actually, I think that had ended up being one of the most goddamn satisfying flings I'd had up to that point, so much so that I felt as though I might very much like to establish an ongoing thing with her once this was all over...
But that's beside the point.
Once I clawed myself from the tantalizing clutches of crotch-rubbing tribadism, my most recent sexual escapade was to get boned by a big black cock. Michael was this dude's name, and GOD did he have a monster on him. I could barely get that goddamn thing inside me... Shit... My ass still throbs just thinking about it...
And oh, didn't I mention? He butt-fucked me with the goddamn thing. The little motherfucker...<
br />
But, I can't deny that it was mighty goddamn satisfying being stretched out like that, and my anal orgasm was about twice as strong as the first one had been, if only for the fact of the pain that came along with it. But, I had asked for it I supposed, and a thick dick up the ass beats a sharp stick in the eye any day, so I had no real complaints.
I had, however, required a break after that to let my body recuperate from such horrible insertions, and I'd since allowed an entire week to lapse by before continuing on my course for intercourse, during which time the mounting anxiety of mounting a married man began to give me second thoughts, thoughts I had to shake away if I wanted to overcome them and have him cum all over me.
God, I'm just full of the wordplay today. I guess it just comes out in talking about scenarios that make me nervous, much as this present one was doing.
Deep down, I sort of didn't want traffic to pick up, afraid, as I was of the prospect of actually going through with this instead of just fantasizing about it, but of course I just kept justifying it to myself. He'd said in his messages that he'd been married for twenty-five years, a fucking year longer than I'd even been alive, but that things had grown stale between his wife and him. He was a successful businessman, and his wife had grown spoiled at home as a result. He'd been wanting so badly to leave the bitch- I mean, his wife, for years, but he was afraid that it would hurt his two kids if he did so (and oh yeah, his fucking kids were almost my age... That went down well.) He said he wanted to wait to break up with her until the kids were both through college, and that in the meantime he was lucky if his shrew of a wife slept with him on his birthday and Christmas, so he had to get his nookie on the side where he could find it.
And for tonight, it looked as though I was his nookie on the side.
I could live with that, I told myself, though in spite of my shameless defamation of monogamy, I still felt like I might be stepping over a line that was tantamount to unforgivable, forever after making me an adulteress...
But I wouldn't think about that. No. I wouldn't...
In less than five minutes, I would be going to meet him in his family's second home, abandoned, where he told his wife he was staying alone whenever he went out of town on business.
Any guilt that would be felt would be entirely in his court, not in mine...
I was going through with this, I was going through with this, I was going through with this...
I pulled up to the curb in front of the number of the house he'd given me, and turned off my car.
I stepped out, and walked up to the entrance.
With more effort than such an insubstantial physical feat has ever cost me, I curved my wrist, and rapped three times on the door.
I was fucking going through with this...
Chapter 3
Pictures of his fucking kids gawked wide-eyed at me as he led me by the hand through his spacious house. His son appeared to be about a teenager, and his daughter was just nearly about the age to be my fucking contemporary. The guilt swelled up in me, and the last pangs of trepidation loomed large, like God hovering over my head, threatening to strike us both down the instant the adulterer whipped his big veiny dick out to put it in me.
But then I caught glance of his cunt of a wife in one of them, and she really did look as awful as he described her in his e-mail, with an upturned nose, a ridiculous amount of procedures visibly performed on her that tried and failed to make her look young again, and a sort of contemptuous expression that made it plain that she thought the entire rest of the world was beneath her.
Fuck her, then!
Like a great weight being suddenly pulled up from around my neck, I officially didn't feel bad about it anymore. Nervous, sure, but more concerned for consequences should the two of us get caught than I felt genuinely guilty about what I was about to do.
He led me into his bedroom, and closed the door behind us.
I gazed over at the bed, its surface as vast and rolling as an Amish field, and it was impossible not to envision him lying there with his wife, the two of them getting intimate, perhaps making the babies that had grown up to be about my age...
But then I felt his hand on my face, turning me toward him, and I gazed into his eyes, nervous, but put somewhat at ease by the application of his touch.
Without saying a word, he pulled me toward him, and our lips pressed together, and my anxiety ebbed away, replaced by the marvelous flavor of his breath, the prickling of his slight stubble against my cheek, and the warmth of his arms around me.
Yeeeeeah... Fuck monogamy!
He pulled my body deep into his own, the heat of his skin radiating into me through the fabric of his clothes, his hands clutching my ass, digging into me, taking ownership of me for the evening, his temporary wife, and the thought of it turned me on like you wouldn't believe. My breasts swelled up against his firm chest, and his raging hard erection pressed into my waist through the fabric of his dress pants. I wrapped one arm around his neck, sweaty and slick with perspiration, and I reached up with the other to run my fingers through his salt and pepper hair, soft and fluffy and wonderful as it slid like silk through my grip, and my body began to heat up with desire.
We cleaved ourselves apart after some time, and I swear to God my cheeks must have been flushed scarlet, his blushing bride, and he was smiling at me, so young and so easily flustered. It sank in, suddenly, how tiny I felt in comparison to him, not that he was fat or anything like that, but like his frame was enormous towering over me, probably at least double my own weight, and Goddddd, if that didn't get me slipping and sliding between the thighs to consider.
“Time for your unveiling,” he said, and God, oh God, the age difference was really sinking in, his almost fatherly level of experience contrasting so starkly with my near-virginal innocence (okay, that's a crock of shit right there, but just let me have my fantasies.)
He pulled me back into him, exerting his pelvis forward, so that his cock jabbed me rather forcefully in the gut, as though to strip away any doubts whatsoever as to his indecent intentions. His fingers slid down along my body, his palms sizzling through the fabric of my skin-tight blouse, and he hooked his grip into the hem of the fabric, pulling it up from off of me, revealing the sweaty, heaving planes of my dinky little abdomen, my flat stomach convulsing with the efforts of my heavy breathing, my breasts perky and aroused beneath the skimpy little cups of my thin black bra.
He put his hands on my tits, pushing them around and around on my chest, and I pushed my head back, sighing, fluttering with delight, whatever the hell that might entail, but I sure as fuck was fluttering.
He wasted no time in peeling me out of the bra, unhooking it with such expertise that I might have been the hundredth young woman he'd deflowered that day. He slid the straps down along my bony little shoulders, and pulled out my lovely little fun bags, leaning in, and making a meal of my titties, kissing on the nipples, running his tongue around and around their perimeters, and then licking the tops of the two of them, caressing them with his hands, doing just about everything he could to give service to my mighty mammaries just sort of sticking his dick into my cleavage and having sex with them.
I rolled my head around and around and around, savoring how well I was being serviced, and shuddering as he pulled playfully on my nipple with his teeth, letting it settle gradually back into place on my body, and then letting his hands slide down, down, down, sinking beneath the fabric of my skirt, skimming like a latex glove across the little round hill of my ass, and pulling both skirt and panties, down, down, down, along my thighs, to my knees, all the way down around my ankles, and there I stood, naked as a newborn, the smiling lips of my meat wallet sparkling like a fountain with arousal, so grossly indecent that I shyly closed my thighs to obscure my lady bits from view.
I shrieked as my adulterous Romeo reached over and picked me up by the ass, my legs wrapped around his waist to keep me from falling, and brought my face up to his, the two of us continuing to kiss, as he c
arried me over to the bed in the style of a newlywed wife.
He placed me gently down on top of the surface of the bed, my hair pooling all around me like a halo, and my breasts sifting gently up on my chest with the force of gravity, my breathing heavy as he pulled his lips away from me, and proceeded to run kisses all along down the course of my body. He kissed my neck, making me squirm, and giggle like a teenager, and continued his way down, my clavicle, my breasts, down along the slick course of my abdomen, sucking on my belly button as though it was an additional orifice, and in that moment it was one, tingling with a sensation I'd thought impossible for a fucking navel, and continuing down, down, down, past the clean shaven swath of my pubic triangle...
My eyes went wide, and my fingers curled into the bedspread, my body shaking, my knees trembling so badly I thought I might end up giving the poor bastard a concussion.
He devoured my pussy like a slice of the sweetest, most delectable wedding cake, smearing his face so full of it it was like that tradition where the bride and groom stuff a big hunk of it into one another's neatly kept mouths. He sucked, and licked, and huffed, and puffed, and blew my brains out with his oral meanderings, lapping in circles, zigzagging and curlicuing and spiraling and nibbling and muff-huffing and scoring major bonus points as he pinballed up against the button of my clitoris, and oh God, oh God, oh God, yes, yes, YESSSS!
I didn't just think those words, actually, I moaned them like a banshee, as well as some other rather profane utterances, “Oh God, oh fuck, oh fuck, ohhhhh, yes, yes, yes...”
He pulled away, smiling, and it felt like the mercury in a thermometer coming to a sudden and drastic drop, my body shivering, quaking with sweat, as I stared down at him between my open thighs, watching him stand up, and loosen his tie from the collar of his dress shirt. He pulled it out, and unbuttoned the shirt, button by button by button, driving me mad with the fucking tension, at last peeling his body out of it, and slipping out of the undershirt he wore beneath.
Game of Throbs Complete Series (Books 1-3) Page 54