Gender: Male Age: 38 Location: Florida
|Introduction: British tourist has oral relations with a stranger with stuck during Iceland volcanic eruption.|
Okay, it’s been a few weeks and if I don’t tell someone I’m just going to die. Before we got back home from, what ended up being extended, holiday I had a brief affair. Well I suppose that affair would not be the right word. Maybe encounter would be better. I’m not too sure that everyone would consider it to be sex either. I know when Bill Clinton was the President of America it seemed like he did not consider oral sex and other sex to be the same.
Funny I should say that. David Cameron has just moved to Number 10 Downing Street today. He seems young to me as Bill Clinton was when the Americans elected him. Will he have his own girl? Who knows? I have to admit that it makes me smile a bit because Bill Clinton chose a big girl like me to play with. Imagine, the President of America and he was a chubby chaser.
Well at least that thought made me laugh a bit. Yes I am what they call a BBW. I am tall, and for most of my life no one considered me big around the middle, but age and children tend to change things. My thighs got nice and chunky after Warren and my bottom widened out, and my boobies and tummy never returned to normal after Grace, going from near flat chested to melons almost overnight in the third trimester. More men started to pay attention as I passed them on the street, the ones who like their women big. Rory, my husband, well, I became not really his type quite suddenly.
Sorry, I stopped a minute for a little cry. Rory’s been having an affair with Jenny, who works down at his favorite pub. It’s been going on for some six years now, but he thinks I do not know. I don’t understand why it makes me fell guilty for what I did. Maybe it’s because I still love him as much as always, even though he does not love me back the same.
I suppose I should just tell what happened. Maybe someone else will know if it was right, or wrong, or even if it’s considered sex by people other than Bill Clinton.
It was Tuesday, 20 April, 2010, depending on your point of view. It was in the wee hours of the morning so some would say it was actually Wednesday, but it was that actual day when things got started. After over a week of extended vacation the flights back home were finally cleared. The only problem was that there were so many people waiting to go that I already knew we were going to be stuck for several more days before I even bothered to ring up the airline. Luckily the people who were waiting to replace us at the vacation resort were just as stuck as we were back home, so at least we did not have to find other lodging. The main problem was money was running tight, so that morning I did my best to budget us on food and petrol for a few more days. I told the children they would have to be content with the pool at the resort.
I suppose I should say that we went to Florida and stayed in a vacation resort that caters to several people on holiday from the U.K. in a place called Davenport. The drive to Disney World is short from there, and the rates are reasonable because it is just far enough away from all the theme parks it is not considered a tourist area. We actually discussed staying there again, and Rory and Lulu, his mother, checked into a vacation home so we could do it all the time, but I am unsure if it would be wise for various reasons.
Anyway, it was the two of us and the kids, Lulu, and Will and Helen, my brother and sister-in-law. During the stay we went to the Disney parks almost every day, and we even spent a couple of days at the Typhoon Lagoon water park, and I have to say I could spend all day riding around on a float in the river area, but there is a waterfall that is freezing cold along the way. Warren and Grace were having the time of their lives. Lulu was in her element, doing all those fun things she imagined being able to do on family holiday and being important as Gran for being there. Will and Helen acted like a couple of kids on a second honeymoon. Rory-.
Well he was just there.
I think he missed Jenny.
Which, other than those occasions I was needed as a mother, like having a splash in the wave pool at the water park, or doctoring Grace’s knee when she slipped because she had seen Princess Jasmine and went running without looking, or riding through the haunted house with Warren several times each visit because no one else wanted to, left me pretty much alone and lonely.
God, I’m laughing. That has to be the longest sentence in history.
Okay, I was alone and lonely, especially in the evenings.
It was the day before we were supposed to have left that that damn volcano in Iceland erupted. I am not sure now if I should damn it or not. If it had not then life would be the same as always, and I wouldn’t be writing about this event that makes me guilty to the point I wonder if I should just slit my wrists and be done with everything one moment, and the next it makes me so hot that I have to lock myself away and rub my quim as I relive it until having a glorious sweat dripping and face flushing orgasm.
Smiling to myself, feeling that burn in my cheeks from looking back over that. There is also the candlestick on the bathroom window sill. That has been for those moments when I imagine it was more than what it was. I have always been too shy to go and buy a toy, even on the internet I can’t bring myself to do it, so I have the candle for those moments I want to be filled.
I wonder if Rory took any notice to the fact that there was also a candle stick on the window sill of the bathroom at the resort? But then why would he. He’s never questioned the candle in our own bathroom even once.
Okay, so I guess you can summarize that even though we were on holiday there was nothing going on between us. Sex has been minimal since Grace was born, and then it went to even less three years later when he started keeping his little pub tart mistress, and it had been about three months before our trip that we had had sex of any kind, so it was almost four months. I think it fueled the sense of loneliness and dejection. I mean I am his wife and it still should have been my time and not hers, because they were apart, an ocean between them. So I suppose he wanked his own self off thinking of her, and so I did what I needed to do to feel like a woman.
Crying again. God damn it I feel so stupid. I still imagine making love to Rory when I play with myself, imagining it is him and we’re in our warm bed, and not alone and squatting on the toilet and fucking myself with an old candle like a pathetic looser.
But now I smile. That has changed some since what happened. I don’t just fantasize about getting fucked by my husband anymore.
Here’s how it started off. It was late and I was lonely. The children were watching a re-airing of the new Doctor Who beginning over with Matt Smith on the BBC America channel. Rory and Lulu were sitting outside having a nice mother and son chat as they like to have. And Will in Helen were in their bedroom, of course probably Will doing to Helen at that moment what I wanted his brother to do to me. So I decided that I would go to the Superior HyperMart store that is about four kilometers or so from the resort to go ahead and supply up for the next few days since it is open round the clock and I really wanted to get out. Lulu offered to accompany me, but I told her I would be fine.
It was actually a little cool that night, and I knew the store would be even colder so I dressed for the occasion. I was wearing a pair of black stirrup pants. Yes I know you’re probably thinking someone still makes those. Yes and no I think. To me they’re the most comfortable thing because squeezing into denim is a killer and I am never comfortable in skirts or dresses, so I find every pair in my size I can on eBay and a couple of other auction sites and buy them.
I also had on a long sleeved knit top that has a hood, and the sleeves bell out and open up at the wrists. It is cream and gray striped, and probably not the best choice since horizontal bands make us big girls look even bigger, and it is kind of baggy on me, but I can’t help it, it’s comfortable and I like it.
Other than a bra and panties I wore a pair of orange Crocs. Lulu, Helen and myself each bought a pair as soon as we saw them in the store at the Orlando Airport. Lulu picked up a pair for Grace and Warren as well, but she complained they made her feet hurt and he absolutely refused to wear them.
Anyway, I guess my point is I was probably about as un-sexy looking as I could be. After all I was going to just get out and shop. Not even in the back of my mind had I planned on what happened happening.
The HyperMart store was dead. I have to tell you that the inside is huge, pretty much as large as a warehouse. Other than some light music playing overhead it seemed very quiet. I noticed a man and woman at the cash registers, but I could not see any other workers or shoppers, so it was almost as if I had the whole place to myself. I grabbed a trolley and then headed to the opposite side of the seemingly empty store.
That illusion did not last very long though. I went to the middle of the grocery section of the store to get some tinned tomatoes and peaches and a bottle of squash, and there I saw him. I had seen him on several of our visits to the HyperMart store. He was average in height, which made him maybe a head shorter than me, and he had dark skin, but not quite as dark as most of the Spanish or Arab and Indian people we had seen since we had arrived in the States. Of course he had this coal black hair that seemed to go with his colour and dark brown eyes. He had high cheek bones, and that made him look more exotic than most, and I think maybe he was part Red Indian or Native American as I think they call themselves now. It said JOSEPH on his name badge, the only way I know his name.
Okay, so I thought he was hot. He was not a film stud or muscle man, but there was something about him, maybe because he was this ethnic looking foreigner who looked a lot more exotic because I could not place where he might have come from. He was on his knees with an electronic scanner, taking tins off the shelf and scanning them until his bulky handheld beeped. He would pause to look at the screen of the scanner, and then repeat the process with a tin of something else.
“Hello,” I said as I passed him. I am unsure of why as I had not said a word to him any of the other times I had been to the store, and I was sure he was probably of the opinion that I was just another stuck up foreign tourist. Maybe it was in the back of my mind that something like what happened was going to happen after all. He had become one of those people you look forward to seeing, you know, people in shops that are always there though most of them you never bother to meet. Despite the near three week stay he was already a fixture of the HyperMart store.
I know my face turned red and I wanted to giggle. I know that he had been checking me out on those other visits to supply up. Rory had even made the comment that he had though he had looked our way a little too long one day as I squatted down to read the label of a box of some American brand of Sugar Puffs.
“Well, hello yourself,” he replied, glancing up from his work.
I felt a flutter in my heart, and a slight feeling in my back as if I were being rubbed up and down lightly by invisible hands. I instantly found I was regretting not greeting him until then. His accent was as exotic as everything else about him. It sounded American and yet different. It was nothing I could place right off.
“What’s that you’re doing then?,” I found myself asking, slowing my pace and coming to a stop. One of the front wheels of the still empty trolley span around a couple of times.
“This? Item verification,” he said, something about that voice so dreamy. “I check the scanning price against the price on the shelf label.”
I cut my eyes up and down the aisle. It had to be a mundane job, and I had the feeling that this was something he would have to do throughout that huge store. By the same token I found it interesting at the same time.
“Stuck here?,” he asked.
I shook my head, it was swimming some and I almost missed that he had said anything. He was wearing a white oxford with a tie and black trousers. Over this he wore a green apron with his name badge over his left breast. He looked sexy, even in work clothes. His eyes looked me up and down, but only from just above the knees to below the neck. I really realized that he was at the very least half my age. He was maybe 22 or 23 at the most. And seeing his brown eyes travel up and down my body, not quite to the floor and again not quite to the face, made me very aware that he was indeed checking me out.
I had an instant where I though, he is looking at my tits, and almost instantly I could feel my nipples perking up and getting hard. And then when his eyes got lower I wondered if he was maybe wondering what I looked like in that lower middle around the Mons, and I felt a sudden tingle and growing moisture in my quim as I broke into a sudden and heavy sweat beneath my armpits.
“Yeah,” I said. I sounded a little dumb, like when Catherine Tate does Lauren Cooper. “We were supposed to leave the day after the volcano erupted.”
I tried to keep a straight face. I was wondering what he would look like as he erupted on the one hand. On the other I was trying not to laugh at my own thoughts because I had that damn Lauren Cooper voice in my head saying things like, Do I look like a trapped tourist? Do I look like a trapped British tourist? Do I, look like, some British tourist, trapped by some volcano? Iceland! Volcano! British tourist!
His voice snapped me out of the little trance caused by sudden horniness and stupid musing. I know I opened my mouth a little wide, and probably had some goofy smile framing it. I shook my head, again trying to get out of my little daze. “Sorry,” I said. Then I did giggle, and as I did I was well aware of my breasts doing a little jiggle. “Kind of lost myself there.”
Joseph sighed and nodded. “I do that all the time myself, especially when I’m on the graveyard shift. Like tonight. But you know, no worries.”
When he said the last two words, no worries, I think he did his best to affect a British accent, but it came out a little more Australian. I couldn’t help but laugh because it was cute, and his own strange accent still bleed through some. I was aware that my breasts were again quaking, and even though he was trying to make it look as if he wasn’t I could tell he was looking dead at them. I wondered if he was trying to guess how I would look topless, and I was wondering what it would feel like to have his mouth on one of my nipples. “Yeah.”
I took a breath and closed my eyes, trying to keep my thoughts straight. Logic told me this would be it. The whole trip and a little flirting with a stranger was going to be the closest thing to sex I would have. People didn’t just hook up and do those kind of things. Well, at least no one I knew ever had. I know several years back people would use little things on their mobiles to send pics and messages to other people in their general area and if someone liked what the saw they would answer back and then they would hook up just like that. People hook up at clubs and things like that, like they show on movies, but this was a big store and not a night club.
“So, I have to ask,” I found myself going on, “where you’re from?”
“From here,” he said.
“Your accent then? It’s-?” I couldn’t find a word to continue with.
“Southern,” he said, a big smile on his face. It was not some big friendly smile either. I was a big seductive smile. “Or southern redneck.”
My hand when to my face and I blushed as I laughed at him again. He said, southern redneck, in an even thicker variation of his own that sounded just as stupid and goofy as any voice than Catherine Tate can do. I looked between my fingers to see that that smile was even bigger, and something told me that in his mind I was now standing fully nude before him. I passed that though off, thinking if he really saw me in the buff that he would quickly loose interest.
“So, you have lots of accents in America, yeah?”
A stupid question on my part. We have so many accents around the U.K. that of course there had to be at least twice as many in the States.
“Yeah,” he replied. “southern, New York, New Jersey, Texas, southwestern, California surfer, New England.” Taking a breath he waved the hand holding the scanner. “The list just goes on.”
I had put my hand over my face again. My middle finger was right along my nose and I was looking at him with a finger along the corner of each eye, a huge smile on my face. Sweat dripped beneath my arms, and I could feel it where the overhang of my stomach rested right above my waist. There was a definite cleft in his chin, and those cheekbones somehow made him look wise for someone his age, and as I though wise I was thinking along the lines of sexually wise. Those brown eyes were dreamy and hungry, and any doubts I had as to whether or not he had been looking me over on my previous outings to the HyperMart evaporated.
Okay, Kim, snap out of it, I told myself. You’re just imaging all this. And you can imagine more what it will be like with your foreign candle you had to buy on the first visit here.
Oh, God damn. That was a little pathetic wasn’t it? I had gotten a candle and sneaked it into the trolley with everything else when we had shopped that first day. Even on the first day I must have already suspected that Rory would not make love with me the entire trip.
I was not thinking all that then though, just remembering I had it back at the resort. And it made me embarrassed to be thinking of that in front of Joseph, the young and hot looking sales clerk. I turned away, probably looking like a total idiot, looking back to the trolley with my hand up to block his view of my face. I quickly came to myself, clearing my throat and facing him.
“Well, I suppose I need to be off then,” I told him. “I was nice to chat with you.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” he said.
Okay, it’s trite and tired, but still, him saying it with that smile on his face, with his dreamy southern accent, and those God damned lusty and obviously plumper loving brown eyes.
Chills writing it now. Nipples hard. Pussy wet. Still sweating, and at that moment it had started in those slight little creases and folds on my neck as well. I could just see myself on a bed in a cool and dark room, letting him fuck me in whatever position he wanted.
Okay now, Kim, it’s time to say cheers.
Joseph smiled and nodded, but his eyes went to my boobies again, then up to my face. “Have a good night, and hopefully you’ll get home soon,” he said. “They just started clearing flights today.”
“Yeah.” Again a little Lauren Cooper sounding.
“And if there’s anything you need any help with please don’t hesitate to ask me.”
“Of course,” I said.
Move on, the sensible part of my mind told me. I felt one leg begin to move.
Yeah, if there’s anything you need any help with please don’t hesitate to ask me, the horny part of my mind was mocking. He’s not talking about getting something off the high shelf to put in the trolley.
Joseph raised his free hand and gave a kind of salute with just his index finger. He smiled a knowing smile before turning slightly and going back down to his knee to resume his work.
I felt my other leg move. Then the other moved again. I was looking ahead and down the aisle, but yes I still somehow managed to look back through the corner of one eye to see that even though he had taken a tin of something off the shelf to scan it that he was still watching me. I knew he was looking at my bum with a loving and appreciative stare, and that was enough to make my little bud back there tingle and make me aware that I was sweating down the crack as well.
Ha. Have to laugh at myself. I do not know if all us big girls do it, but I just have sweat roll off me when I get horny. One fuck and once it’s over it’s always time to change the linens, because I soak the sheets with it by the time it’s over with. I’ve always wondered how the hell Rory could hold on when I am on my knees and he’s taking me from behind without slipping off and out.
It’s gotten worse with my increase with size. Maybe he finds that a turn off. Maybe it isn’t just Jenny diverting his sexual attention from me.
Anyhow, I did my best not to think of this foreign stranger’s lust gaze as I went on down the aisle, knowing where I was going already since gaining a slight familiarity with the aisles during our brief stay. I stopped nearly at the very opposite end of the aisle than what I had come from. I was aware that Joseph was now a fair distance from me, and I resolved not to look back. I leaned down to get a bottle of squash, doing my best to focus on the green and white arch of the Robinsons logo sticker near the top of the bottle.
Then, as I had my fingers around the top of the Robinsons I peered out through the crook of my arm and looked back to where Joseph knelt on the aisle. He was still in pretty much the same spot. He was picking up tins and scanning them, and I could still hear the little beep the machine made rising slightly above the light music from the overhead speakers. He was doing his job, and yet I also knew he was just appearing to do his job. He was checking his scanner screen and the little yellow markers on the shelf to see it they matched. But yet I also knew that he was still looking at me as well.
Now, Kim, that sensible part of my mind said again. This is just plain silly. It was the last I would really hear from the sensible side of my mind for the rest of my visit to the HyperMart.
He wanted me. Joseph, the southern accented, red Indian looking store clerk wanted me.
And I wanted him.
I wanted him to have me.
It was like I was having a dream, or like I was drugged. I just straightened myself to my full height, my head swimming and my vision was a little blurred. I felt so hot, sweaty. Everything sounded muffled and far off, as if I had had a hard blow to the head. I remembering raising my hand up and moving my arm slightly out. I opened my fingers, and I could vaguely hear the loud metallic thud as the bottle of Robinsons squash landed in the basket of the trolley.
I left the trolley and its single item where I had parked it and began to move to where he knelt scanning tins of fruits and vegetables. It was like a dream and I was moving so slowly, and yet it seemed that I was also standing over him in less than a couple of seconds. Joseph looked up to me and smiled, he looked even more dreamy. In his hand he had a tin of peaches. And in a slightly dulled and murky thought I realized, well that was convenient, because I needed peaches too.
“I-,” I stammered.
Then I nodded my head, still feeling drugged or very drunk.
“There is something-”
I just couldn’t string out more than a few words at a time.
I suddenly felt dizzy and nauseated. My hair, I realized, perhaps the only thing I though clearly, was already becoming soaked with sweat.
“You can help me with.”
“Okay,” he said. He seemed sly and expectant. It was like he knew I was going to come back, and he knew what I was going to ask for. “Why do you need, miss?”
I opened my mouth and moved it, but nothing came out. I touched my tongue to the top of my mouth and shook my head, feeling like I was going to vomit. “I want to play around.”
There, it had come out.
“I want to play around, with you.” I swallowed my spit, willing myself not to pass out. “Now. Right now. Yeah.”
He rose up from his knees, as if in slow motion. As he turned slightly to face me his eyes were dead on mine instead of elsewhere.
Well now, that was pretty, stupid, I though.
But Joseph smiled that dreamy looking smile, and it stretched his dark face. Then his free hand caught my wrist. It was unexpected and scary and exciting all at the same moment. And then all of the sudden everything seemed clear. The wave of nausea passed, and my hearing and vision returned to normal. The first new sensation I was aware of was that I was freezing despite the warm ensemble I had chosen for the HyperMart. There was a thin coating of sweat covering my body everywhere that it had not already been dripping from.
“I think I can help you with that.” His unusual accent was there, and the words seemed to flow out as smooth as silk. He only took a glance to the end of the aisle, then said, “Follow me.”
Joseph turned, still holding my wrist, but adjusting his hand around it. I followed behind him as he pulled me along, aware I needed to hold back, because my legs were longer than his, so I needed to be careful not to run over him. We passed aisle after aisle and I saw row after row of products flash by. I did wonder how many different aisles the store had. I had not thought to look up at the number markers hanging from the ceiling, or count them up any of the other times I had been there.
I realized there was truly no one else around. There were no other clerks or shoppers. It really looked as if we had the whole store to ourselves.
God, if only it had been. I would have probably just let him mess with me right there on Aisle 6 or Aisle 9, whichever one we were on.
Oh, God, too funny. Maybe a little pathetic. I wrote that and looked at the numbers I decided on. Yeah. You see where my head is. I laughed so hard I wet myself a little bit, so now here I sit trying to finish this in an old t-shirt and some fresh knickers.
He guided me along to the back end of the store and then to the left for a little. There was a set of double doors tucked between the shoe department and the photo lab. They were green, about the same color as his apron, with big windows made of plastic that had been scratched almost opaque in places by years of wear, no doubt a result of being hit by the long trolleys they bring things out on.
We went through the doors and back to go down a narrow hall, passing the lavs and approaching a door with a large window set into it. Joseph slowed our pace and pushed back on my wrist a bit, enough to let me know I needed to keep out of sight. He looked around and through the window, pausing only a split second before he resumed his original pace, guiding me further down the hall. I looked through the window to see that there was a break room with lockers across the back and a long table surrounded by gray chairs in the middle. I though that would be an ideal spot, but he must have though one of his coworkers would be more likely to walk in on us.
The end of the hall opened up into a large area with tall racks where pallets of products were stored. Joseph walked me to one of the bays beneath them and in it was a half a pallet of sugar. It was there he let go of me and took a step toward the sugar pallet and worked to take an odd bale off so there was an even layer.
I had a few coherent thoughts at that moment. “What? Here?”
Joseph lowered the bale of sugar to the floor and looked up to me with that girl winning smile on his face. “It’s okay,” he said, sounding assuring, and still somehow sexy dreamy. “I’m the pricing coordinator. If a couple get messed up for any reason I can scan them out.” He sounded so assured and confident, there was part of me that just wanted to melt at this young man’s feet as if it were going to turn something more than just some quick shagging with a foreign stranger.
“We could try a paper pallet, but sometimes they don’t hold up,” he went on. “And green totes are murder.”
I wasn’t too sure of what he meant by the last part, had no clue what a green tote was. But I did suddenly realized that this was something Joseph had experience with. I quickly wondered how many women he had brought into the back store room of his workplace for a hot and sweaty fucking. I took maybe a seconds pause, and I know it was fleeting because it was in a way exciting at the same time.
My mind was just all over. My thoughts were in no way straight, and my actions were just a reflection of that. I know I blushed and smiled, and then giggled, taking a shaky step back as he put his handheld on top of the sugar bale and then reached behind his back to undo the string on his apron.
I just decided to be silly. I jerked the hood of my top over my head. Then I jerked it back off and stepped around and toward him with my arms out, much the same way I had seen an American pro wrestler named A.J. Styles do to his robe when we had went to the TNA Wrestling show at Universal Studios on our second Monday there.
Joseph pulled his apron off, then let it drop down to cover his scanner. I felt my heart do a flip flop and my quim do a squeeze as it lubricated itself a little more as he stepped up to me. He raised himself up on the tips of his toes to reach my mouth, and I felt my face get hot and burning red as I though it was cute and sweet that he would raise himself to my level. Our lips touched, and my heart raced faster. If there was any ambient noise in the back stock room I could not hear it. The only sounds were of our breathing, and the slight wet smacking of our mouths as lips parted and tongues probed.
God, the kiss made me so wet, and my nipples felt like they were going to poke holes in my bra. I wanted to be licked. It had been so long, and I found myself hoping he would be willing.
“So how do you want to play?,” he asked, once we paused for a breath.
The direct question made that rational part of my brain speak up a little, and it did not give me time to think it over. The words just came out. “Is it just okay to use our mouths?”
Joseph gave a single slow nod down. His smile now twisted into a smirk that raised the corners of his mouth and made those cheekbones more pronounced.
I was sure that was a yes, but I felt the need to explain further. “You see, my husband-. Well, if I should get back and he wants to mess around-. You know? It would be awkward-.”
To say the least, the words coming out were broken and awkward, but he just stood and smiled, somehow seeming understanding and sympathetic around that smirk.
“If he wanted to mess around-. So-. Just mouths is okay, yeah?”
Now who the hell was I kidding? I was being a big chicken about it. Rory was not going to want to make love to me, had not shown a single bit of interest our entire holiday. I could have said I was worried about getting pregnant.
Snickering quite loudly to myself. A little unlikely at my age.
Had I the guts to take it all the way I could have asked if he had a condom. And if he hadn’t we were in this huge mega department store, so I am sure they had to have condoms there somewhere.
I’m not sure, maybe something deep down was nagging then, as it has continued to do now since we returned home. To go all the way would have left now doubt that there had been a sexual encounter with my young and exotic foreigner. It would have made it into something that even Bill Clinton could not have denied.
Oh, well. For whatever reason I kept myself from going that far.
Looking back now, oh-.
I imagine what it would have been like to be on my hands and knees, coupling with him on top of the sugar pallet in the back stock room of the Superior HyperMart in Davenport, Florida, U.S.A. Playing with my candlestick I’ve imagined sweating and moaning as Joseph ground himself into me, whimpering and crying in glorious orgasm as he emptied his hot red Indian seed in my sopping and sobbing quim.
God, damn it. I just dropped the pen. Fantasizing about it. God. I just closed my eyes and grabbed a breast while running a finger over the fabric that separates hand flesh from nether flesh. That’s two pairs of clean knickers soiled today. Damn.
Joseph reached out and took one of my breasts in each hand. I closed my eyes and took in a ragged breath as he massaged them through my top and bra. He pushed himself up again and put his lips to mine. My heart beat as if it grew just a bit more with each pulse. It was a soft and gentle kiss, most definitely a lovers’ kiss. I knew from that, whether it was for five minutes or five hours, that he wanted it to feel like a special moment for me instead of a cheap and tawdry shag.
Maybe that is where the problem is. Maybe that is why, right now, I have so much conflict within about what happened.
Breaking our kiss and letting my boobies go Joseph guided me back a couple of steps and helped me ease myself down onto the sugar bales. They felt hard and tightly packed as if I were sitting on neatly laid bricks, not too comfortable on neither the back nor the bum. If it was supposed to be halfway comfortable I did not want to know what it felt like on the mysterious green totes he had mentioned. I sat myself on the edge of a bale to be comfortable, and as ready, as possible. Almost automatically my knees went open, my ankles I spaced widely.
Joseph stepped up to me and leaned down. His mouth was beside my face. He kissed me all over my cheek, and on the ear, and then on the side of the neck, over and over. Tingles and chills went through my abdomen and radiated through my entire body as he worked to get his hands underneath my bulky knit top. I gasped a little, letting my eyes roll back in my head as he pushed up the cups of my bra and then put his hot hands on my fat titties.
Jesus, it felt good. He did not tweak and play with my nipples as much as he massaged my tits, rubbing them and pulling down on them as if he were trying to milk the teats of a cow or a goat. I found myself suddenly hot for the idea of him putting his cock between them and me squeezing them together so that he could fuck them, the valley in between was already well lubed with my sweat.
At one time Rory used to love to fuck me between the breasts. He would go off, coating my neck and chin with his hot sperm. Alas, I am sure he saves it for pub tart Jenny now.
But to more pleasant and recent memories, Joseph raised my top enough to fully expose my tits to the air. Still sighing and letting my eyes roll back again I moaned and caressed his head as he kissed them and sucked my nipples. His hair was so thick. I do not believe that I have ever felt such a full head of hair in my life. My body was on fire in a way that it had not been, not only for the past four months, but for the past six years, and maybe even longer. I don’t believe I have felt that was since before Grace was born until right then.
I put my arms back and braced myself on the sugar bales. I let my head loll back and took a breath through my nose. I was with a stranger who’s name I had not yet even spoken aloud, and yet I could feel his passion just from the small act of sucking, kissing and teasing my nipples. Joseph, I felt sure, always did everything with meaning and purpose, which when you think about it is not bad at all for someone who could only be in their mid-20’s at the very most.
“God, that feels so good, sweetheart,” I found myself crooning. “Yeah.”
He paused and looked up to me, and I looked back down in his eyes. Due to the dim lighting of the stock room they now looked black instead of brown. He leaned his head down and kissed the hollow of my neck. “You like that?”
Joseph raised slightly and kissed the side of my neck. “MMM, you like getting teased with my mouth.”
God, when he had said that it felt like my heart was going to melt right out of my chest.
He kissed me softly, his lips lingering under my chin. I instantly knew that he was going to give me perhaps the best licking I have ever had.
Is there foreplay for oral sex? Or would it still be considered as part of oral the way that he was doing it since he was mainly using his mouth?
I don’t know, and part of me does not care.
At that moment I felt a little drugged again. Joseph kissed my chin, and then my lips. He kissed me just under my left eye.
“You love feeling my mouth?,” he questioned. His tone was smooth and seductive.
“Yes, love,” I whispered back.
Joseph gave a final kiss to my sweaty forehead. Then he rose to his full height and backed away slightly. I watched as his hands went up to his neck and he loosened his tie. My eyes trailed the motions of his hand as it undid the knot at his throat to open it and slipped it from his collar. It made a slight snap as he pulled it off and then he tossed it onto the bale he had sat on the floor along with his other things.
I was glued, my excitement building. I sat there, not touching myself nor making any moves to remove my own clothing as he did a slight striptease in the darkened back stock room. He next untucked his oxford shirt and began to unbutton it to reveal a white undershirt underneath. As he slipped his over-shirt off I could tell even in the dim light that he was not very muscular or well defined under the shirt beneath, but I did not care.
I could feel nectar leaking out of the lips of my quim after he tossed his shirt aside and placed his hands at the front of his waist to unhook his belt. He got the clasp out of the hole and pulled the two halves open. As he then unhooked the closure of his trousers and pulled the zipper down I fought the urge to reach down between my open legs and rub myself. I was enjoying the show, each article of clothing he lost only driving me into a higher state of arousal. I could not remember the last time that I had seen Rory undress due to the fact that he was interested in passionate love making with me. And again I didn’t really care about that.
Joseph used each foot to push his work shoes off, and then let his trousers drop to the floor. After he stepped out of them he just nudged the discarded items off to the side with his foot. It was then, as he stood there in nothing but his under things: briefs, white t-shirt and dark socks, that I let myself slip out of my rubbery Crocs. My feet were sweaty, and despite the fact they did not offer much protection from the cool in the first place once they were off the soles of my feet were freezing.
When Joseph grabbed the waistband of his briefs and pulled them down I forgot all about the chill in my feet. Discounting my son, of course, I was looking at the first cock I had seen in the flesh other than Rory’s in over 24 years. He was not too big, in fact my husband is much bigger there than Joseph, but once again I did not care. He was definitely more than a handful, and from where I sat I knew he was somewhat smaller around than Rory.
He was circumcised, which to me just made him even more exotic. I had only been with two other men before my husband, an older man who took interest in me when I was much too young and I boy I had a brief couple of encounters with when I was 15 and my family had went on holiday in Brighton. My experience with different men is limited, and up until I saw Joseph’s cock all the ones I had seen and touched were naturals. The head of it looked a pale pink, even in the darkness. I remembered thinking it looked so round under its crown and naked.
As he stood before me dressed in nothing but his white undershirt and socks I finally went into action. I slid off the sugar pallet and took the one step I needed to get to him. Then I slowly went down, kneeling on the hard concrete floor. I let out a sigh and briefly closed my eyes as I felt his warm hand caress my cheek and then go up to softly brush through my hair. I opened my eyes and then ran a hand up along the inside of his thigh. I touched his hanging ball sack, and it was soft and warm and it would have probably have clung to my hand had it not been for the dry nest of hair around his manhood. I then put my hand on his hot and ridged shaft and gave it a couple of light strokes, making him sigh.
Then, after taking a deep breath, I leaned down further and put my mouth on him. Fucking God, Joseph even tasted exotic. That first taste of him was harsh and slightly vinegary, matching the smell of a strong and heady animal musk the clung to the hair which brushed against my lips as I swallowed him fully. As I drew back that first time, enraptured by the feeling of a strange cock slipping over my lips and tongue the taste slightly sweetened. He had a strong citrusey taste to him which got a bit stronger as I sucked along. It instantly made me think of the oranges we had picked from a grove one evening on the way back to the resort.
Laughing. Yes, we poached some oranges on holiday. They were so sweet and juicy, and it was that taste I got in my mouth as I sucked Joseph slower and lovingly as I knelt on the cold floor of the HyperMart stock room. I can only suspect that it was due to his diet, that he ate a lot of oranges and citrus fruits as well. God, I am sure I will never eat another orange without getting wet.
I closed my eyes as I sucked him, making it long and slow. He just stood there to enjoy it, sighing a little as he continued to run his fingers through my hair, over and over again. It made me feel warm inside. It was a tender gesture. In the past when I have sucked men, even Rory, they all seemed to put off this sense of urgency, like their need to come to a climax was greater than my own. Rory and my holiday lover in my teen years both seemed impatient with me and very tense. The man I had my first experiences with had always expected me to finish quickly.
Joseph was relaxed and serene. He did not urge me to go faster or get him off quickly. Instead he did something quite opposite. I felt him open his fingers and press down on the top of my head gently with his palm. I started sucking harder, but he pushed against me, and I knew it was a signal to back all the way off. I let him slip out of my mouth, I had a little saliva at the corners as the crown of his cockhead passed my lips. “Let’s return the favor,” he said.
I watched, again a little dreamily, as he backed away, and then walked away from me. Not rising I turned my head and my body to watch as he slipped behind me. Joseph then sat on top of the pallet of sugar bales and eased himself away from the side and closer to the middle. Then he laid himself out on his back, from my position his face disappeared but I could see his hard cock, fully erect and pointing straight up.
God, my colour must have been the deepest red because my face was burning hot as I realized that I was meant to be the one on top. My nipples were painfully hard, and my clit was beating with a longing throb. I had not been on top in the sixty-nine position since before I had gotten pregnant with Warren. In a way I couldn’t believe it. I felt like Joseph was so kind that he would allow a fat old girl like me to get on top of him. Hell I couldn’t even remember the last time I had even ridden Rory during love making.
Getting myself together I rose up. Then once I was standing I peeled down my pants and panties. When I stepped out of them they had turned into a big wet, sweaty and musky, tangle in my hand, and it made me let out a little giggle as I realized this brought some new meaning to getting your knickers in a twist. I let out an almost frustrated breath as I slung them over on top of the sugar bale with Joseph’s things on them. My ass was freezing, and the lips of my quim were so cold it felt like someone was running ice cubes over them.
That feeling of cold did not last much longer.
Like Joseph I kept my top on. Inside under the bulky knit garment my heavy tits hung and swayed, still free of the cups of my bra. I went to him and struggled to get a leg up over the side of the sugar bales. He moved slightly to give me a little more room. I got the second leg up and scooted myself along just a bit. There were some loose sugar crystals on the surface of the brown paper that wrapped the bales, and they almost felt like tiny shards of glass as they dug in to my knees in shins, but I did not let that sensation bother me much. In moments that little pain would be forgotten.
I moved up against him, facing the opposite direction. Once I felt we were lined up properly enough I raised a leg and put it over him, raising up to straddle the uppermost part of Joseph’s body.
Oh, God, sweet ecstasy.
Joseph had raised his head and I could feel his tongue parting my sweaty nether curls as he searched for the swollen lips of my quim. I had not even had a chance to get myself good and braced on my knees. As I first moved to lay myself over him he put a hand on my soft belly fat and pressed to urge me to stay in a squatting position over his face for a little longer.
I closed my eyes and sighed as his tongue made an exploratory probe between my lips. Then he drilled it right into the hole. I cried out, probably a bit too loudly as he pressed his face into my quim. His tongue gave my wet hole a drilling, and he worked his head so that his chin was rubbing and hitting against my clit. I had never been eaten like that before, and I was instantly sure that it was no accident either, as Joseph seemed very familiar with the anatomy and mechanics of the lower parts of the female body.
Again I attempted to go down on him, and again he pressed his palm firmly against the overhang of my belly to urge me to stay as I was. I clenched my teeth together, feeling knots seem to rise and break in my throat as he started licking and drilling my womanhood in earnest. He moved his head, making hot and wet sounds I knew were caused by a combination of his saliva and my now free flowing love honey. He drilled into my hot hole with his tongue. Then he licked the lips of my quim and slightly nibbled along them, before repeating the process.
I started to breathe a little raggedly as his bony chin bumped my clit little harder. His eating and licking got a bit rougher and the more frenzied he became the more my own blood started to boil. Each time I took a breath the fabric of my top rubbed my nipples and the excitement made them so sensitive that they began to hurt as if they were chapped, but instead of detracting from the experience it only served to make it feel more intense.
With a harsh moan in his mouth Joseph suddenly dropped his head down and positioned his body lower beneath me. His lips found my clit, a new experience for me because no man had ever really touched or mouthed my clit in a sixty-nine position. After some slurping and testing with his teeth and tongue he sucked my clit into his mouth, and then he started to suck it hard and in earnest.
“Nuuuu-uhhh-hhha,” I suddenly moaned. My back went ridged and my knees tensed. I was biting hard on my upper lip inside my mouth to keep it from opening up and letting out a loud scream. The first bit of that orgasm was intense, but somehow I already knew it was merely a preview. My nipples felt as if someone had grabbed them and given them a hard and painful yank. The sensation seemed to then travel straight down, ending with a throb in my clit as he gave it a long and hard suck.
“OH, MY GOD!,” I cried out.
There was no going back from it. Sweat felt as if it were dripping from my every pore, but it was not a cold sweat. No, it was a hot and sticky and musky sweat that only breaks out on a person in a moment of high passion. I moaned, babbling a little incoherently as the true part of my orgasm hit. The strong stink of my own musk hit me in the face as I felt my quim suddenly clench and release, and as it did I know that a dribble of my frothy cream was coating Joseph’s nose and face.
Oh, God, and that didn’t stop him! He only took himself back for a moment to catch a gulp of air and then he went right back down. I was panting, gasping, moaning and squirming, my heart slamming my ribs and my fucking tits quivering as he lapped up every bit that had come out of me. He licked all around my lips and hole, and then he went straight back down to sucking my clit.
“Na--yahhhhhaaaa,” I cried. Already I was coming again, and although it was not the same body rocking orgasm the first one was it was still intense. “Nyaah! FUCK!”
As the second orgasm subsided Joseph finally pulled his lips off my clit and took a breath. When he exhaled it felt like an electric shock went through my entire body, every muscle going ridged, as I felt his breath on my sopping quim.
“You like that?,” he questioned, panting a couple of breaths over my wet lips. “You like my mouth down there?”
“God, yes, sweetheart,” I cried. My own voice was ragged and weepy. There were tears just beginning to build in my eyes. “Yes. Yes, I love that. It feels so good.”
“I am going to do it to you again,” he informed me.
I closed my eyes, sighing in ecstasy as I put a clenched fist to my chest and pushed against my own breasts. God, I was hot and I wanted it, and I wanted it to be fair to him as well. I leaned slightly down and this time got no resistance from his hand on my belly. “Oh, sweetheart, I want to suck your cock too,” I said, just to make sure he realized.
“Mmmmm,” he purred. “Go ahead.” Again his voice was sexy and creamy and exotic with his foreign southern American accent. “Suck on my hard cock. You suck my hard cock and I’m going to eat you out.”
In the middle of his speaking that shock which made all my muscles tense went through my body once again. God, no one had talked to me that way other than my first lover. With him I had been afraid, afraid of the things he wanted to do with me, and how rough and vulgar it all sounded, but with Joseph, hearing him talk that way it made me even more hot and excited. I raised my top up over my breast to expose my nipples to the air. They were screaming.
“I’m going to lick you and eat your pussy out,” he continued. “I’m going to stick my tongue up your hole and I’m going to suck your fucking clit until you can’t take it anymore.” He paused and took a breath, and I could feel his face getting closer to my quim again. “You’re gonna beg me to stop.”
“MMMMMahhh!,” I cried as he suddenly gave my quim a quick and hard kiss on its lips.
“You’re gonna suck my hard cock.”
“Uhnna.” He kissed it again, this time dragging at the lips with his own lips.
“And I am going to eat you-.”
“NNNNN-GOD.” He paused to drill his tongue into my quim hole once.
“Eat you until you have to beg for it to stop.”
The next time he kissed my lower lips and jammed his tongue into my hungry little hole I knew he was not going to say anything more. I quickly lowered myself down, my tits and nipples crushed against his abdomen as I reached down and grabbed his cock. I guided it into my mouth with one hand as I quickly brushed my sweaty hair back with the other. I sucked him hard with quick strokes as I worked my hand up and down his shaft, twisting it gently. Each time the crown of his cockhead reached the tip of my tongue I would swallow him back down until my face was in his nest of hair and his balls were against my nose.
All the while I sucked him he was working my quim, doing as promised. He licked and nibbled my nether lips. He drilled my hot hole as deep as possible with his tongue. He would grind his chin into my clit, and then he would suck on it, several times brushing his teeth across the little bit of flesh to further torture it.
Finally I had to let him go. I had to breathe. My head was swimming and I was starting to feel nauseated and dizzy as I felt another major orgasm building up in exactly the same way as the first. I panted and let out a ragged breath, my fingers still around his cock and stroking quickly. “I can’t,” I panted. “I can’t take it, sweetheart.”
Joseph pulled his face away and let out another hot breath across my most sensitive and secret region. “Just a bit more.”
I felt my lips quiver. I was on the verge of tears. It was so intense and felt so good, but as he promised I just could not bare it anymore. “No, please, sweetheart. I can’t.”
Joseph drilled his tongue into my quim, his face making full contact hard against it as he pounded his tongue in.
“MMMMMAAHH!,” I cried out. My legs were shaking and quivering.
“You’re almost there,” he paused long enough to pant. Then he moved his head down and sucked my clit between his lips. In an instant he was sucking it hard, the tip of his tongue drilled the apex of my clit as he did.
“GGGGGGGGGGG-ODD!,” I screamed. He was right. I was right there. My quim spasmed and clenched violently and I could feel my cream oozing past my lips. My body tightened up on top of his. That little rosebud in my bum felt as if it had shut so tight it might never open again. My breast felt hot and sweaty against his abdomen, and I could feel sweat just running down the valley of my bum.
When the orgasm finally subsided I collapsed on top of him for several minutes. He raised himself up on his elbows, slowly and gently licking all my cream and juices in a way tender enough not to set me off again. My eyes were open, although all I could see was the block wall beside us. I was aware that my hair was soaked and it was slightly brushing his knee each time I took a breath. For those few minutes I was in a daze, like being in a far off dream.
Then my head began to clear somewhat as Joseph slowed his licking and it turned into a kissing of my quim and the inner part of my thighs. I could feel the head of his cock against my neck and realized that he was still stone hard. I wet my mouth with my tongue, hot and ready to return the favor.
For an instant I was also torn. Since I had gone this far then why not all the way? Why not just roll over and raise my knees up, let Joseph get inside me, condom or not, and use my body until we both came?
I just as quickly decided not to. As I said I was being a chicken and a coward. I wanted it, but still I was conflicted. This was all oral stuff. It was not sex and it was not love.
But in that moment it felt like it could be a sort of love.
Then and now I think I was afraid that if I really let Joseph make love to me that I would not have wanted to leave. I think I would have just wanted to stay with him in the States. And I think that was what scared me enough that I didn’t allow myself to let it go to that. I thought of the children and knew I could not leave them or even think about separating them from Rory. That was their Daddy, my husband.
I moved up and back slightly on my knees. I put my mouth on Joseph’s cock again and started sucking it so that I would not put any more thought into it until after I had been as fair and kind to him as he had been to me. He sputtered and gasped into my crotch as I sucked him and worked his cock with the same urgency that my first lover had always expected me to and made me have.
He let out a groan and I could feel his naked cockhead swelling on my tongue. I stroked his shaft, all slick with my saliva, keeping a steady pace as I rose slowly off of it. Joseph groaned as I got him past my lips. The first eruption of his sperm still got my tongue and coated my chin. I gave a hard jerk that caused his second spurt to shoot up, getting my cheek and into my hair. He kept oozing out gobs of cum and coating my hand as I stroked him. The whole time he moaned and panted into my quim.
“Oh, yeah,” he finally called. He reached around and ran a hand along one of my cool ass cheeks. “Baby, that was so good.”
Smiling to myself. No one else has ever called me baby. It’s always been darling and dear.
“You were so wonderful, sweetheart,” I whispered back. “Oh, so wonderful.” Then I went down and began to lick his spent seed off my hand and his cock.
After that we each let the daze we were in clear for a few minutes longer. Then we got up and dressed. I do not know how much time we had spent there, but something inside told me if I did not get back to the resort soon that I would be missed. We went down the hall and Joseph stood guard outside the women’s lav so that I could wash my hair and face a bit, and then he spirited me the rest of the way down the hall and back out into the store.
With Joseph’s aid I found my way back to the abandoned trolley on the aisle we had met on. He also helped me quickly find the other items on my list. We then parted with a last long and loving kiss before I went to the check out.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” I told him. “It was wonderful, yeah?”
Joseph smiled to me and nodded. “The pleasure was all mine.”
And that was it. I walked back across the HyperMart.
He never asked my name.
I never even spoke his aloud.
I was dazed through the checking out process and going out to the rented van with my purchases. When I arrived back to the resort I was still in a daze. I barely remember going to our suite and asking for help. Rory, Will and the children brought everything inside. I stood in the dining area with it all going through my head.
“Are you all right, Kim?,” Helen asked me after a few minutes.
“Yes, of course.”
“You were gone an awful long time,” Lulu observed.
“Yes,” I said. “There was an accident on the motorway.” I knew it would be a convincing enough excuse. Many people had warned us that U.S. Highway 27 had claimed its fair share of British tourist late at night in the particular area we were in.
“Damn it, Kimmy,” I heard Rory call. “You got the wrong damn squash. This is blackcurrant.”
Of course I didn’t care that I had not gotten orange squash. Helen and the children wouldn’t care. I just couldn’t help but play the encounter in the back stock room of the Superior HyperMart over in my head as I stood there.
“I am going to shower,” I announced.
“You just had one earlier,” Rory said.
It was at that moment that I felt the eyes of my husband and my in-laws on me. At first I did not know how to account for myself. Then I raised my arms up and gripped the open sleeves of my knit top in my hands. “This was just too hot. I’m all sweaty.”
No one said anything else as I went to the room Rory and I shared and went into the bathroom to shower. As the warm water pelted my bare skin I felt like I had reached a moment of sheer bliss. I reached down and rubbed my quim. Already I was longing to feel Joseph’s touch again.
Later everyone went to bed, but I could not sleep. Once Rory was snoring steadily I slipped off to the bathroom again. I locked the door, then I took my American candle and played with it and wondered how it would have felt had I let my lover put his American cock inside me.
After I came I sat half naked on the toilet and began to cry. It had just sunk in that I had betrayed my husband for the first time. The fact that he had been betraying me for the past six years did not seem to hold any weight in that moment.
We finally had a flight out three days later. I left the candle on the window sill in the bathroom. I am not sure what the next guest though of it, or even if they would have any idea of what it had been used for.
And here I sit, three weeks later, unsure of how to feel. I think that sex is sex, even if it is just oral sex. To hell with Bill Clinton. I can say it was not really sex, but the way it makes me feel makes me sure thinking that way makes me into an even bigger liar.
So, where do I go from here?
Just go ahead and live the same old life?
In a way it doesn’t seem fair. Why should Rory have a lover and I have nothing except those rare moments that I am convenient?
Is there really an easy answer?
I do not think so.
I have went as far as to fantasize about picking up and leaving, running off to the States with the children and finding Joseph, starting over.
But that’s just stupid, isn’t it, though?
He probably has someone else, and maybe there have been a couple of someone else’s since that night.
How could I begrudge him?
I am just a nameless British tourist who did not even call him by his name.
I suppose the one thing that I can say for certain, no matter how confused and conflicted the whole thing has made me feel on the inside, is that I am very grateful for those lost moments three weeks ago. I am grateful for them and I am grateful for Joseph for making the actual experience for me.
Will I stay on with Rory?
Will I eventually find a lover here to be with?
I am not sure. Maybe when I feel less guilty about cheating on my husband than he apparently feels about cheating on me.
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