He was a bad boy before he became a realtor. He got into trouble and didn’t care what anyone thought, especially his family. Cole realized that wasn’t a way to get through in life so he changed some of his ways. He still could get into trouble sometimes though. I told him how I always wanted to be a psychologist. Psychology was always an interest of mine and I was happy helping people battle their emotional issues.
I finally had made an offer on the first house Cole had showed me. It was perfect and Cole helped me through the entire process. As soon as I had signed the papers, Cole met me there and we fucked in every room. He said he wanted to be the one to christen the entire house. And we did, even the basement.
That night, when I was finally all settled in, Cole and I were lying in bed together after christening my bed in my new house.
Cole pulled me close, breathing in the scent of my hair. He asked me a question that made me freeze. “Charlotte, what is your deepest, darkest fantasy?”
I swallowed, anxiety building in my stomach. I could never tell him, I would be so embarrassed. I hide my face against his chest, breathing in his scent. He backed away, lifting my chin up with his finger. “Don’t be embarrassed baby, I want to make all of your fantasies come true.”
“I just can’t Cole, I am afraid you will look at me differently.” I said, not meeting his gaze.
“No, Charlotte, I wouldn’t. All fantasies are normal.”
I took a deep breath and whispered, “I want to have a ménage with two men, one being the man I am with.”
Cole grinned down at me. “Now, was that so hard? And I don’t think that is anything to ashamed of. I must say I have never done that but I would be willing for you.”
“Really? You would do that for me?” I asked him.
“Yes, I would. Charlotte, these last few weeks have been absolute bliss. I want to keep trying with you. Please be mine and only mine.”
I answered him by pulling his face down to mine and ravishing his lips with mine. I poured all of my feelings into the kiss, the passion flowing between us. Desire immediately swelled in my belly, my insides warming. His hands began exploring my naked body, up and down my sides and cupping my ass. He lifted his hands back up to my breasts, cupping them and rubbing his thumbs over my nipples.
I moaned low in my throat and he responded by kissing me harder, his tongue dancing with mine. I could feel his hardness growing against my thigh. I broke away from his kiss and pushed him back onto the bed, a sexy grin playing on my lips. I straddled him, leaning back so that my hands rested on his thighs.
His eyes roamed my glistening naked body and then his hands grazed over every inch of me. I melted under his touch, loving the way he caressed me perfectly. I grabbed a condom on the nightstand, ripping it open and sliding down his shaft, and then I impaled myself on his cock. We both cried out in pleasure.
He filled me and I felt whole. I rode up and down, crashing onto his cock over and over again. I watched as he threw his head back, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. His hands still roamed over every inch of me, stopping on my breasts most often to pinch and play with my nipples. I rode him over and over again, my orgasm building. I felt myself coming hard onto his cock, as I screamed his name and he screamed mine. I collapsed onto his chest and he wrapped his strong arms around me.
Once our breathing had slowed, I rolled off him but buried myself into his side, intertwining my legs with his. We slowly dozed off, but as I drifted off to sleep I heard him whisper, “I am falling for you...”
Epilogue
Six Months Later…
Cole moved into my house last week. Our relationship had been going strong. Our connection was still there, as was the enjoyable sex. We did hit a slight bump in the road two months into things. I pulled away, feeling things were going too fast. I remember the argument like it just had happened yesterday.
“I need some space, Cole. I just need to breathe.”
He stared at me, anger and hurt flashing across his face. “What do you mean, you need to breathe? Is it something I did?”
“No, no it’s nothing you did. I just have never experienced such an intense all-consuming relationship before and I need some time to think and sort out my thoughts.” I answered.
“Charlotte, when people say that bullshit, it means they are thinking about breaking up. Do you want to break up with me, is that it?”
“Cole, No! I don’t want to break up with you. I am...I’m just afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” Cole said, anger still filling his voice, but I also heard a trace of sadness.
“Afraid of getting hurt.” I felt tears coursing down my cheeks and I was glad it was dark in the car so Cole couldn’t see.
“Charlotte, baby, I am not going to hurt you. I only want you. I am afraid too. I haven’t done a relationship in a really long time and you just blow me away. I want to touch and taste every inch of you all day long. You are all that I think about and it is driving me crazy. A good crazy though, I want more.”
I melted on the spot, my fears forgotten. Since then things have been quite perfect.
In fact, we confessed our love to each other while making love a few nights later.
And tonight, Cole said he had a surprise for me.
Cole had sent me out for an afternoon of spa treatments. I got my nails and toes done, a nice massage, and relaxed in a sauna. When I returned home later on, the house was dark, lit only by candle light. There were candles lit everywhere and there was a candle lit dinner set up for two people. Cole slid up to me, wrapping his arms around me.
“Hey there, gorgeous.”
“Hey sexy, what is all of this?” I waved my hand around to the room.
“A delicious dinner for two followed by one of your fantasies.” Cole spun me around to face him, grinning down at me.
“What do you mean one of my fantasies?” I stared up at him, wondering what was going on.
“I mean, I have a special guest coming over after dinner to help with your fantasy.”
I froze, anxiety clenching my stomach.
Holy fuck. Did he really just say that? I can’t go through with this.
At the same time, I wanted it to happen. Here was my chance with the man I loved. If I hated it, I never had to do it again.
“Are you serious?” I asked him.
“Yes, baby. I love you and want to make you happy. Come, let’s eat.”
I tried to eat as best I could but my nerves got the best of me. I could barely touch my food. Cole watched me, concerned. “What’s wrong, you don’t like the food?”
“It’s not the food, the food is delicious. I am just a little nervous.”
“Don’t be. It’s a friend of a friend. He’s clean and wants to hang out a bit beforehand.” Cole reached over to hold my hand as the doorbell rang.
Cole stood up and we walked to the door together. Cole opened it and there stood a deliciously hot man, one that looked very similar to Cole.
Wow my man did a good job picking out another man.
“Hey, come on in, Ryan. This is Charlotte. Charlotte, this is Ryan.” I gave him a hug and let him walk in. Cole winked at me. He whispered, “Hot, huh?”
I laughed. We sat down on the couch and had some drinks together, letting the alcohol loosen things up. Ryan was funny and I felt a good connection with him.
I was feeling a bit tipsy and brave so I stood up, turned on some music, and began to dance. I slowly began a strip tease, dancing back and forth between Cole and Ryan. I pulled off my shirt, throwing it at Cole. Next came my skirt, tossing it at Ryan.
Cole stood up and pulled me into his arms, kissing me passionately. Then I could feel Ryan’s hands on me, feeling all over my body.
Shit, this is intense. Two men fawning all over my body.
Cole ran his hands up under my skirt, his fingers grazing my panties while Ryan rubbed my breasts, squeezing the nipples. Cole led me over to the couch, pulling me down onto him, while Ryan followed, kissing
my neck, shoulders, and breasts, continuing to caress them.
Cole pushed my panties to the side and slid himself inside me, lifting me up and down by my hips so that I was riding him on his terms. I turned towards Ryan and pushed his bulge to my face. I unzipped his pants, freeing his erection. I took him in my mouth, his head thrown back in pleasure. I sucked gently, running my tongue all along the tip in circles. Cole watched me, his fucking getting more intense.
Ryan began thrusting himself into my mouth, going faster with each push. He came a few seconds later as I came on Cole’s cock and he found his release a few moments later inside me.
Wow that was amazing.
I pulled myself off of Cole, sitting beside him, and Ryan tucked himself back in, sitting down on the opposite couch. “Damn, that was great. Nothing beats getting a blowjob from a girl getting fucked.”
Cole chuckled. I smiled shyly. “It was a good time.”
Ryan stood to go. “I would stay but I need to get to a club downtown. My band has a gig tonight.”
Cole saw him out and when he came back, he stood in the doorway, smiling like a fool.
“Well?” He asked me.
“Come here, babe.”
Cole walked over to me and I stood up, wrapping my arms around his neck. “It was quite the experience and an awesome one at that, thank you.” I kissed his mouth, lingering a bit before pulling away. “I do prefer just you though.”
Cole chuckled, “I love you, Charlotte.”
“I love you too, Cole.” I crushed my mouth against his, losing myself in him. He was a drug, an addictive drug that I needed, wanted again and again.
I would want him forever…
THE END
My Bucket List Series – Then Comes Marriage
Chapter 1
Perhaps I should preface this installment with a short bit regarding my views on monogamy:
It doesn't fucking work.
Mankind has had many thousands of years to come to this shocking conclusion, although to this day it does not overtly acknowledge the futility of trying to attach yourself to a single person for fifty or sixty years and not get tired of them. I mean, Christ, the failure of monogamy goes clear back to Greek mythology-ever noticed how much shit went down in mythical ancient times just because old Zeus the god of manwhoring couldn't keep his spectacular celestial penis in his tunic? If a goddamn immortal god couldn't lock himself down to a single sex partner, then what the hell makes us mere mortals think that we're capable of doing so?
Now, the young whippersnappers of today such as myself are a little bit more accepting of this fact, as evidenced by our overabundance of casual whoopie-makin' with strangers we've only known for about ten or twenty minutes at best. We've grown smart enough to know that people are mostly assholes when you're not having sex with them, and that all and all, there isn't much worth putting up with one's fellow man save for within the hot, steamy sanctity of bumping uglies beneath the sheets.
Hm... Now that I say that, I guess that could be construed as a rather unhealthy attitude to sex and human relationships... Shit...
Well... Be that as it may, I still don't believe that marriage or commitment are the answer. No fucking way. I've seen too many people get married just to have sexual security with another person, and then find out a couple of years or so down the road that the two of them absolutely can't fucking stand each other. But by that point, they're sharing a bank account, they're on one another's health insurance, they can't remember whose toothbrush is whose, and their lives become just too goddamn entwined to try and separate. So then, instead of trying to sort shit out between the two of them like they should, or just mutually cutting and running, as they probably know deep down they should, they simply sweep the problem under the rug for the time being, pop out a couple of kids to help them forget about how much they don't love one another, and then invite a new soul into the world to witness the glorious crumbling of their doomed relationship.
God, that sounded bitter... I guess my own household was a little bit that way growing up, so maybe I've seethed over this shit a little bit more than is strictly healthy for a person.
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 m
y 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.)
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