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Introduction:

When I went on vacation to "get away from it all," I didn't expect THIS!
Loneliness sucks.

Being alone is all right. Sometimes, it's preferable to being with people who bore you or annoy you. Sometimes you just want to be alone. That's okay. Everyone needs a little space now and then.

But I had been alone for a year. My solitude had progressed into abject loneliness, and it sucked. I decided to treat myself to a summer vacation. I was going alone, but, hopefully, a change of scenery would help.

When the initial anger of my breakup with Karen faded, being alone was something of a relief. Don't get me wrong – our relationship had been great for a while. Mutual friends had introduced us at a party, and we hit it off well that very first night. Well enough, anyway, that she went home with me, and we didn't get out of bed for much except food or the bathroom for the next two days.

We both had our own apartments with several months to go on our leases, and we had a lot of our own interests, so we kept our relationship on the date-and-fuck level for a while. We enjoyed the time we spent together, even when it was something as mundane as washing our cars or going grocery shopping.

We got to be friends as well as lovers, and eventually decided to share an apartment. We were comfortable together. Maybe that was the problem. We got a little too comfortable. The edge wore off.

I guess I'm either a little too trusting or a little too dumb for my own good. I didn't question it when Karen said she was going to start doing volunteer work one evening a week at an adult literacy program (something I had no interest in whatsoever). After a while, said she was going to do it two or three nights a week. I didn't mind that either, because it gave me time to pursue some interests of my own, hang out with the guys, or just chill at home after a rough day at work.

Looking back on it now, I see that I should have recognized the warning signs. After all, if I was so committed to this relationship, why was I almost glad Karen wasn't around three evenings a week? But I was blind, and I accepted the fact that she sometimes came home very late, with alcohol on her breath. Her explanation was that she and some of the other female volunteers at the adult education center liked to go out for a drink or two after teaching their classes.

For some reason, I didn't even think it was strange that she would always rush to the shower the minute she came home from her tutoring sessions, even though Karen had always taken her shower in the mornings before.

The fact that our sex life had dwindled to only one or two sessions a week didn't seem to mean that much to me either. After all, we had both just turned thirty – we weren't sex-crazed kids anymore. We worked very hard at our jobs, and our “extra-curricular” activities often meant that sleeping was what we needed to do when we went to bed on the nights she came home late.

One night, Mike, a good friend of mine from work, called me about an hour after Karen had left for her tutoring work. “Kevin, I want to buy you a beer,” he said. “We need to talk.”

“What's up?” I asked. He sounded pretty uncomfortable.

“I'm at the Highway Tavern on Route 1. You know the place?” he asked.

“Yeah, I know where it is. You sound upset. Are you all right?”

“Just get your ass over here. How soon can you be here?” Mike responded.

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

“See you then,” Mike said. He hung up without even saying goodbye.

“Uh oh,” I thought. “He must be in some kind of trouble.” I grabbed my wallet and keys.

When I walked into the tavern, Mike was sitting at a table with a beautiful woman. She looked very familiar, but I couldn't remember where I had seen her before. “Kevin, this is Marianne, Bob's wife,” Mike said. He poured me a beer from the small pitcher on the table. Marianne had a half-empty glass of beer in front of her.

I remembered Bob, another guy Mike and I work with, introducing me to his wife, Marianne, at last year's company Christmas party. She had been the subject of some discussion among the guys there, with her gorgeous face, long wavy dark hair, and dynamite figure in that slinky little black dress. The general consensus had been that she was the embodiment of the term MILF, and was way too good for an asshole like Bob.

I shook her hand and said, “I'm sorry, I'm terrible with names, Marianne. I remember you now. How've you been?”

“Fine, Kevin, how about you?”

“Good, but I'm confused. Mike, what are we doing here? You sounded kind of upset on the phone.”

“Drink your beer,” was all he said. He seemed very interested in studying his fingernails.

I looked at Marianne, but she just shrugged her shoulders and took a sip from her glass. We sat there in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. I thought again that Mike must be in some kind of trouble, serious from the look on his face. But Marianne didn't fit in with any situation I could imagine.

Mike drained his beer and poured the remainder of the small pitcher into his glass. He took a few more swallows, set his glass down, and looked at us. “Shit, I hate this,” he said. He looked really miserable.

“Come on, buddy, talk to me. What's going on?” I said.

“Kevin, you've known me for years. You know how I am. You can tell Marianne that I'm not the kind to start trouble or get in the middle of something that's none of my business, right?”

“That's true. And I'd say that even if you weren't my friend. So, what's this all about?” I said.

He downed the rest of his beer. “Finish your beers. We're going for a short drive. Don't worry, I only had two glasses. I'm OK to drive. You two can ride with me.”

None of us said anything as we went out to Mike' car, although Marianne and I exchanged some worried looks. Mike helped Marianne into the front passenger's seat, and I got in the back. He drove us a few blocks down the street and turned into the parking lot of a seedy-looking motel. We went around the back of the building and parked at the bottom of the lot, a short distance from the cars that were parked near the rooms. He turned off the engine and the lights, and then pounded his fist on the steering wheel. “I pray I'm wrong about this. I just hope you guys don't wind up hating me,” he said.

I started to say, “Hating you for what?” but Marianne interrupted me with a sort of strangled scream.

“That's Bob's car!” she said.

“What? Where?” I asked.

“Straight in front of us, Kevin,” Mike said. “Now look four spaces to the left of it.”

I looked where he was pointing. There was no mistaking it. Karen had put that dent in the rear fender of her car a week earlier when she backed into the trash bin outside our apartment. “That's Karen's Honda. What the fuck?” I exclaimed.

Mike said, “I didn't know what to think when I first saw them together at the tavern about two months ago. They didn't see me, and they seemed to be involved in some kind of deep discussion, so I didn't go over to them. They left at the same time. I decided it didn't mean anything, and I kind of forgot about it until I saw them again the next week. Same thing that time. They didn't see me, and they were sitting together talking. Again, they left together. They each got in their own cars and drove off.”

“Did they come here?” I asked, dreading the answer.

“I don't know. But two nights later, I decided to go to the tavern again. Bob was walking across the parking lot just as I went inside, so I waited for him. He seemed pretty shocked to see me, and he looked really nervous. He said he just stopped in to buy a 6-pack to go, and he walked up to the bar and ordered one. He got on his cell phone and made a call. As he was talking, I saw Karen's car pull in. She stopped in the middle of the parking lot, and then turned around and drove out, fast. I could see she went up the road going this way, which I knew was the opposite direction she would have gone if she was going home.”

I was starting to feel a little sick to my stomach, and Marianne looked like she had just swallowed a bug.

Mike just kept on talking. “Bob left right after her with his beer, got in his car, and headed the same way. I went outside and saw him stopped at the light at the end of the block. He should have been in the left turn lane if he was going home, but he was going straight, the same direction Karen had gone. I jumped in my car and followed him. He pulled in here and drove around back. Karen's car was parked in front of one of the rooms. He went inside with her.”

“Oh God,” Marianne moaned.

“I'm so sorry about this,” Mike said. “I didn't know what to think. Remember, Kevin, when I asked you which nights Karen did her volunteer work?”

“Yeah, I told you it was Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays,” I said.

“Right,” Kevin said, “and I asked you that on a Thursday morning. I had seen them here the night before around 7:30. So I came here and parked way off in the corner around 7 o'clock that night. About a half an hour later, they both pulled in and went into a room.”

“That bastard!” Marianne hissed. “He told me he needed to stay late at the office a lot. Some shit about short staffing. I'm going to kill him!” She started to get out of the car.

Mike grabbed her arm. “Wait, Marianne, it way not mean anything. Maybe it's not what you think.”

“Oh please! My husband is already playing me for a fool. Don't you start, too. Let go of me!” she growled, wrenching her arm free of Mike's grasp.

“Marianne!” I bailed out of Mike's car, ran after her, and spun her around to face me. “Don't do anything rash. We have no way of knowing what they're doing.”

“What the hell do you think they're doing, Kevin? Trading baseball cards? Crocheting? Are you even more stupid than I am?” Karen said.

“But we don't really know anything,” I said.

“Then let's go knock on the door and ask them! Are you coming with me, or am I going alone?”

Everything suddenly snapped into place for me – all the signs I had ignored. She was right, but I didn't want to admit it, to her or to myself. “All right, Marianne, we'll go and ask them together. Come on, Mike, you're going with us.”

“Why?” Mike asked.

“You don't have a vested interest in any of this, so you're going to serve as mediator,” I said.

“Yes, come with us,” Marianne said. “You may have to stop me from ripping his balls off!”

We knocked on the door. We could hear movement inside, and then Bob opened the door, wearing only his boxer shorts.

Marianne burst inside. “You fucking bastard!” she screamed at him. “You no good, rotten fucking bastard! Where is she?”

Bob had a look of utter shock on his face. “Where is who, honey? What are you talking about?”

Karen's purse was sitting on the bureau, and I could see a thong on the floor near the bed. I recognized it. I had taken it off Karen with my teeth more than once. I could feel the veins starting to stand out on my neck and my stomach dropping to the floor. The look of fear on Bob's face told me he could feel my rage when I barked, “Where's Karen?”

He just stood there, his mouth working, but no sound coming out. He was the only one in the room, but I could see light under the closed bathroom door. I pushed my way past him and knocked on the door. “Come out here, Karen.”

There was no response. “I know you're in there, so you might as well come out,” I said.

Bob finally found his voice. “Guys, there's no one here.”

I tried the bathroom doorknob. It was locked from the inside.

“You fucking liar!” Marianne screeched. Mike grabbed her just before she tried to claw her husband's face.

“Don't stand there and lie to us, Bob,” I said. “That's Karen's purse and those are her panties. Your cars are both outside.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, Kevin,” Bob sputtered.

Now I was really getting pissed off. “Shut up, motherfucker. I swear to God, if you lie to me one more time, I'll come over there and shut you up! Karen, get your ass out here!”

No one moved. No one made a sound. My blood was boiling. I shouldered the bathroom door open. There was Karen, stark naked.

“It's not what you think,” she began.

I grabbed her by the arm, whipped her out of the bathroom, and threw her on the bed. I was struggling for control. “Then why don't you just tell all of us what the fuck it is, you lying bitch!” I roared.

Karen lay there crying, trying to cover herself.

Marianne spoke up, ice in her voice. “You bastard. I want a divorce. I'm taking the house, the kids, the cars, everything. You're going to pay for this, you miserable prick. And let go of me, Mike. I'm not going to attack him. I'll find an attorney who will hurt him far worse than I can.”

“Kevin, can we talk?” Karen sobbed.

“What is there to talk about?” I shouted. “I want you gone. We're through. I don't want to hear an explanation, and I sure as hell don't want to hear any excuses.”

“I'll start moving my stuff out next week,” she said.

“Stay here tonight,” I said. “I'm going home to pack your shit. Don't come home until I've left for work tomorrow, and be sure you have your stuff out before I get home tomorrow night. I don't want to see you again. Anything of yours that's still there by the time I get home goes in the trash. Come on, Marianne. Let's go. Mike can drive us back to get our cars. I've got to get out of here before I do something to at least one of them that will get me arrested.”

As we were leaving, Bob said, “Marianne, baby, we can work this out. Please.”

“I hope she was worth it, Bob. I'll get your clothes packed and leave a message for you at work to let you know when you can get them. And don't show up at the house until you hear from me. If you do, I'll get a restraining order against you. My attorney will contact you at work. Fuck you,” Marianne said.

So here I was, almost a year later, alone. As I said, at first, it was sort of a relief. Oh, sure, I had spent the first few nights raging around the apartment. I found an album of photos of Karen and me, and I had a good time tearing up the pictures and burning them one night in the fireplace, along with a few homemade sex videos. With as drunk as I got that night, I'm surprised I didn't accidentally burn the place down. Then I went through the phase of going out every night with the guys or trying to pick up one-night-stand types at a few bars. It took a while, but I finally settled down.

I grieved for our relationship, at least for my idealized version of what I thought it had been. During the day, I threw myself headlong into my work, even earning a promotion in the process. It was a living hell at first. The only way I could deal with my heartbreak was to make my work my life.

Bob managed to get himself transferred to a division in another city, so at least I didn't have to deal with my urge to murder him any more. Mike was very supportive of me during this time, and I'll always be grateful to him for that. His friendship and the support of my other friends and co-workers got me through the worst of it.

But I was still alone. And now I was lonely. Most of the time, I was able to push the lonely thoughts to the side, but not always. I sold the antiques Karen and I had gotten together, bought my way out of my lease, and moved to a little house on a wooded lot a few miles from town. I thought changing my lifestyle, along with removing the last reminders of Karen, would help.

It didn't. Friends tried to fix me up with women a few times, and some of them seemed really nice, but there was no spark. I was OK during the day at work, and going out with the guys was still fun, but the times that I used to spend with Karen were empty. I wasn't dangerously depressed, but I sure as hell wasn't happy.

Part of me said that I was fooling myself, but another part said that a change of scenery would do me good. That's why I booked a room at a seashore hotel for my vacation this summer. Hell, what could it hurt? I could work on my tan, maybe go deep-sea fishing, do a little gambling, and stare at women in bikinis. Maybe I would get lucky. Would it solve my problem? Of course not. But at least I wouldn't be sitting at home, alone.

Yesterday, I was walking on the boardwalk, waiting until my lunch settled enough for me to go swimming. I had been pretty careful about sunburn, but I realized I was almost out of sunscreen, so I went into a little shop to see what I could find.

I spent a fair amount of time looking at the cheap novelty t-shirts, the chintzy souvenirs, and the postcards. Finally, I picked up a tube of the sunblock I wanted, and decided to head for the cash register.

When I turned, I bumped into a woman and knocked a pair of sandals out of her hand.

“Oh my God, I'm so sorry, miss,” I stammered as I bent down to pick them up. “Are you OK?”

“Don't worry about it. You didn't hit me hard, but you should watch where you're.... Well, hello, Kevin!” she said.

For the first time, I looked at the woman I had run into. I'm terrible with names, but one look at the long legs in tight jeans, the trim belly and firm breasts in her skin-tight crop-top, and the beautiful face looking down at me refreshed my memory instantly. “Marianne, hi! What are you doing here?”

“I'm on vacation,” she replied. “I'm surprised to run into you here.”

“Well, I think I ran into you,” I said. “I'm here on vacation, too. I never expected to see anyone I know.”

“Are you here alone?” she asked.

“Yeah. I've pretty much been out of circulation for a year, ever since....”

“Ever since your girlfriend and that asshole I called my husband cheated on us,” she said.

“Um, yeah. That made me a little gun-shy about pursuing another relationship.”

“Me too,” Marianne said. “It took me a while to put it behind me, but I'm moving on.”

“You're doing OK, then?” I asked.

“My lawyer made sure of it. Bob had some family money and did pretty well for himself with investments and so on, so the house was paid off when it all hit the fan. I must admit, I didn't have any qualms about taking him to the cleaners. Rotten bastard! But that's in the past. I have my career, my two wonderful children, and my friends. At first, I didn't know how I was going to make it. After all, we had been married for ten years – my whole adult life. But everyone was really supportive of me. My parents even refrained from doing the whole 'I told you so' routine when I told them about Bob.”

“They didn't like him?” I asked.

“Never. I couldn't figure out why, either, until I told them what had happened. Then my father finally told me that one of his poker buddies was friends with Bob's father. He had told my Dad that Bob was a no-good cheating bum when we were first dating, but my Dad didn't want to believe him. Over the years, my Dad's friend kept telling him rumors about how Bob was running around on me, but my Dad had no proof, and didn't want to stick his nose into my marriage. He was afraid to meddle, for fear of what it may have done to his grandkids. But when I called my folks the day after you and I found Bob and Karen in that no-tell motel, Dad hit the ceiling. He was really mad at Bob, and very upset with himself for not protecting his little girl.”

“You're all right now, though?” I asked.

“Like I said, never better. The kids seem to have adjusted pretty well. My eight-year-old son even said a few weeks ago that he was glad Daddy was gone. Apparently he had seen his father one time kissing another woman, and Bob had sworn him to secrecy, threatening to punish him and make him out to be a liar if he ever told me about it. Can you imagine? What a son of a bitch!”

“Oh, that's not right,” I said, indignantly. “You know, sometimes I wish I would have beaten the hell out of him that night like I wanted to.”

“I'm glad you didn't, Kevin. It would have gotten you in trouble, and you already had enough problems. In fact, looking back on it, I admire your restraint. What happened with Karen?”

“She did what I told her to. I packed all her stuff when I got home that night, and the next evening when I got home from work, it was all gone. She left her key on the kitchen table with a note that said how sorry she was. I haven't heard from the bitch since,” I said. “But I had to get out of there. Being in the apartment we had shared for two years was too much for me.”

“Are you OK now, Kevin?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. Just like you, I had people to lean on. I've really thrown myself into my work, and I go out with the guys some times, so I'm getting by.”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“I've dated some, but nothing serious. I guess I'm just not ready,” I said.

“Where are you staying?”

“At the Sea Breeze Hotel on Eighth Avenue.”

“Really? We're practically neighbors. I rented a little house only three blocks from there. The listing agent called it a villa. I guess having a hot tub on the deck is what she meant,” Marianne said.

“Your own hot tub? Nice.”

“Hell yes. Luxury bedroom suite, nice kitchen, built-in grill on the deck, the works. I feel like a queen. Say, what are you doing for dinner tonight?”

“I don't know. There must be a million restaurants around here,” I said.

“You're coming to my place. No arguments. I make a mean Bearnaise sauce, from scratch, of course. How do you like your filet mignon?”

“Oh, Marianne, I couldn't,” I said.

“Yes you could, and you will. Is medium rare OK?”

“Medium rare is the only way to cook a steak,” I said.

“Great. Let me give you my address. Can you be there at 7:00? The kids are at summer camp, which, of course, Bob is paying for, so we can make an evening of it. We'll eat on the deck, so dress for summer evening comfort. It will do you good to get out of the hotel and have a home-cooked dinner,” Marianne said.

“What's your favorite wine?” I asked.

So, I had a dinner date. With a beautiful woman. Alone at her place. As I lay on the beach that afternoon, I daydreamed about how delicious Marianne's meal was going to be. I also fantasized about how delicious SHE might be. It wasn't until I heard a few teenagers near me giggling about the distortion in my swim trunks that I realized how involved my fantasies had become.

Oh, what the hell am I thinking? Nothing's going to happen. I'm not going to be the rebound guy, and she's not going to be the rebound woman. Don't be an idiot, Kevin!

That didn't stop me from buying two bottles of wine on my way back to my room to shower, shave, and dress in a nice t-shirt and shorts. As I was getting ready, I considered stopping at a drugstore for a pack of condoms, but then I realized how ridiculous that was. Marianne had invited me for dinner. Period. I hardly even knew her. I was going to be the perfect gentleman.

I rang her doorbell at exactly seven o'clock. When Marianne answered the door, I was a little taken aback. She was wearing a dressing gown, and, it appeared, little else.

“I'm running a little late, and I hate to work in the kitchen in nice clothes. Would you mind starting the grill while I get dressed? It's a gas grill, so you just have to turn it on so it can heat for a few minutes.”

“No problem,” I said.

As she turned to leave the room, she said, “You can put the wine in the ice bucket on the table on the deck, and if you want, you can set the table. Everything's on the counter next to the sink. You could even get the salad out of the fridge and take that out, too. I'll only be a minute.”

I put one bottle of wine in the refrigerator and took the other bottle outside and put it on ice.

She was right. The place was fit for royalty. There was a nice dining table, a few chaise lounges, a hot tub, and tiki torches all around. I fired up the grill.

When I turned to go back in the house, I got a shock. Marianne's bedroom had a sliding glass door to the deck, and she hadn't closed the curtains. I got a very good look at her taking off her gown. She was naked and hot. Seriously hot. Tight, shapely ass, medium sized firm-looking breasts, beautiful perky nipples on perfectly proportioned areolas, a clean-shaven pussy, and no tan lines. As I watched, she put on a tiny black lace thong, a halter top, and booty shorts. Holy shit!

Suddenly, I realized I was staring and could very easily get caught. I hurried back in the house to get the place settings and the salad. When I got outside again, I noticed that the entire deck area was enclosed by a high privacy fence. Wow! She probably tans right here! The guys at the office party had been right. Certifiable, triple-A rated MILF!

Marianne came outside just a moment later. She tipped the grill lid and looked critically at the flame for a moment. “Almost ready for the steaks.” She turned to me, flashing me a hungry-looking smile. “This is going to be great. I hope you're ready for this. I like it hot. Really hot.”

It took a second for my over-active imagination to allow me to realize that she was talking about the grill.

Marianne went inside and returned with a bowl with the steaks. She placed them on the grill. Immediately, there was a flare-up of flame. “I marinate them in clarified butter and diced shallots. It helps create a hotter fire to seal the outside of the meat and trap the juices. While I check on the potatoes, would you spoon some of the marinade in this bowl onto the steaks? Be careful; there will be a lot of flames.” She went back inside. I watched her beautiful ass as she walked.

She came outside in time to turn the steaks and finish cooking them. I took our plates to her, and she served us. At the table, she added twice-baked potatoes to our plates and filled our salad bowls while I poured the wine. Dinner was, in a word, amazing.

After we ate, we cleared the table, and then went back outside to finish the wine and talk about ourselves. Inevitably, the conversation came to the night we had discovered the infidelities of her ex-husband, Bob, and my ex-girlfriend, Karen.

“I didn't know what Mike wanted when he called me that night,” I said. “He told me he wanted to buy me a beer and said we needed to talk. I thought he was in some kind of trouble and needed my help.”

“Yeah, well when he called me,” Marianne said, “I didn't remember who he was at first. He reminded me that we had met at the company Christmas party and said he needed to talk to me. I panicked. I thought something had happened to Bob, and that he had been given the job of calling me with the bad news. What a night! I went from being afraid that Bob was dead to fantasizing about killing him myself!”

“I can't imagine how hard that must have been for you,” I said. “I mean, I went through Hell with that thing, and I wasn't married with children like you were.”

“It was pretty rough for a while,” Marianne admitted. “If it hadn't been for my friends, my parents, and my lawyer, I don't know how I would have gotten through it. I've always been a strong person, but that situation really put me to the test. But the longer it went, the more I realized how bad our marriage had been. Now, I can honestly say that I'm glad he's gone. I'm truly happy for the first time in a long while.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” I said.

“I'm glad to be able to say it,” she laughed. “Say, why don't you go in and get that other bottle of wine while I light the torches? Even though a year has passed, I feel like celebrating our new lives.”

We sat outside for a while, sipping our wine, laughing, and just generally having a good time. We weren't drunk, but we were getting to a point where our inhibitions were probably compromised. That meant that I was no longer able to keep my eyes from her luscious-looking breasts in that halter top, or her legs that disappeared into those skimpy little shorts. I knew I shouldn't be staring at her, but I couldn't help myself.

Suddenly, Marianne stood up. “I have a great idea.”

“What's that?” I asked.

“Did you see this?” she asked, moving over to the hot tub.

“Yeah, looks nice.”

“Oh, you should feel it,” she said, leaning over it to remove the tub's cover. Damn, her ass looked fine in those tight little shorts!

My mouth went dry. “I don't have a bathing suit.”

“You came for dinner, so I guess you wouldn't have one with you, would you?” Marianne said. “Don't worry. I won't put one on either.”

She kicked off her sandals and put one beautifully pedicured foot into the water. “Ooh, nice,” she said. “The water will feel so good on our bare skin.” She turned to me and started working her too-tight shorts down off her hips. “What are you waiting for?”

I'm sure I had a really stupid look on my face. “Marianne, I, uh, you're... I mean....”

She untied her halter top but held it, barely covering her nipples. “If you're uncomfortable, we don't have to do this.”

“I'm more surprised than I am uncomfortable, I guess. I just thought we'd have dinner and talk. I didn't expect to go skinny dipping with you,” I stammered.

“Well, I didn't expect it either, but I'm OK with it if you are. We're both adults here, Kevin. As far as I'm concerned, this can be just a warm, relaxing soak, or it can be more. It's up to you.” She finished removing her top and then quickly shed her thong. She stood there, naked and beautiful. “You're over-dressed,” she said.

I stood up and kicked off my sneakers. My shirt came off next. Thank God I work out. With the way Marianne looked, I didn't want to have to spend the rest of the night sucking in my gut.

By this time, Marianne had turned and was getting in the hot tub. I got a nice shot of her ass and her pussy as she bent over from the waist to adjust a jet near the bottom of the tub. Great, now I'm getting a boner! Don't get me wrong, it's nice to know that, if I get up the courage to go through with this and strip down completely, at least my little friend won't be all shriveled to nothing. Still, I didn't want to just prance in there with my cock looking like it's ready to go off in her face.

She sat down in the water and looked at me. I must have had a pretty goofy look on my face, because she started to chuckle.

“You know, Kevin, I have seen a man naked before. It's OK. Come in with me. The water's really nice. I won't bite.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say something like, “Not unless I want you to, I hope. And what happens if I start nibbling on you?” But, luckily, I kept my mouth shut.

I thought I could be cool about it as I stripped off my shorts, but my half-hard cock betrayed me by poking out through the fly opening of my boxers.

“Oh my, that's pretty impressive,” Marianne giggled.

I shrugged my shoulders as I felt my face turn a little red. “So are you,” I said, yanking my underwear down and climbing into the tub.

I sat down on the opposite side of the tub from her. She was right; the agitating water did feel amazing on my bare skin. It also helped to hide my erection, now at its full length and girth. The water was shallow enough that Marianne's breasts were in full view, and I watched as her nipples slowly hardened into tight, tasty-looking nubs, the kind that I knew would feel exquisite between my lips.

I had been pretty horny for the last couple of days, lying on the beach watching the women in thong bikinis, walking on the boardwalk and seeing the girls in nothing but tank tops and tiny shorts with their hard nipples reaching out and assaulting my eyes, or hanging out in the casinos and clubs at night where hordes of gorgeous women strutted their stuff in slinky gowns and seductive little dresses.

This was different. I was sitting nude in a hot tub, sporting a monster erection, a few feet away from a naked woman who could have been a lingerie model.

“You don't have to sit all the way over there, you know,” she murmured seductively.

“Marianne, I'm not sure what to do,” I said.

“Really? I have an idea or two.” She stood up and came over to me. The light from the torches glistened in the droplets of water that hung from her nipples and her sex. I could feel my cock twitching.

Marianne lowered herself back into the water and sat next to me, her hip pushed against mine. She looked down, apparently trying to see my cock through the bubbling water. I touched her chin with my index finger and raised her head so I could look into her eyes. We stared into each other's souls for a few seconds. Then, there was nothing else for me to do but kiss her. Her lips were soft, lush, and full, and they tasted like the wine we were drinking.

She turned and straddled my leg, grinding her pussy on my thigh. I could feel her nipples against my chest, and they felt very hard. I could feel my cock against her leg, and it definitely was very hard.

We kissed for a while. Every time our lips parted, we stared into each other's eyes, and then kissed again, longer, harder, and more passionately than the time before. Her arms were around my neck, and my hands were on her back, rubbing up and down. Finally, I reached down and cupped her buttocks in both hands.

“Oh, I love having my ass played with,” she said. “How about you? Stand up a second.” She moved back onto the seat next to me, allowing me to get up. When I did, my cock nearly hit her in the mouth.

“Oh my! Someone needs some attention. Don't worry. We'll get to him in a little while.” She stood up and pressed herself against me, pinning my cock against her belly and crushing her breasts against my chest. As we held each other, she began kneading my butt cheeks. “Hmmm, nice butt,” she whispered in my ear, just before nibbling on my ear lobe.

We kissed again. Our tongues danced with each other, and our hands gripped each other's shoulders. When I moved my hand down to her breast, Marianne gasped.

“My nipples are very sensitive.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Really. Sometimes I think I could have an orgasm just from having them played with,” she whispered between kisses.

“Hmmm, what happens if they're licked?” I said with a wicked grin.

“Well..., why don't you try it?”

So I did. “What if they're sucked on?”

“Oh God,” she whimpered as I latched onto one with my lips and applied some light suction. I alternated between licking and sucking on each breast, finally sucking hard enough to pull a good portion of her breast into my hungry mouth.

“What happens if I nibble on them?”

By this time, she was arching her back, pushing her delightful chest against me. Her hand had found its way to my crotch, and she was holding my cock firmly. Not stroking, not squeezing, just holding it possessively, with the promise for more, when she could concentrate on it.

“Kevin, I want you to fuck me,” Marianne breathed.

“Not until I taste you. Not until you cum on my tongue.”

“You would do that for me?” she asked.

“Sure, why not?”

“I don't know, I guess it's just that I haven't had anyone do that to me for so many years that I thought no one ever would again. Bob hated it. He thought it was gross. Yeah, he liked me to go down on him, but he never wanted to do it to me,” Marianne said.

“Turn about is fair play. If a man wants a woman to pleasure him orally, he should be enough of a gentleman to do that for his woman, too,” I said.

“It doesn't seem like you're that much of a gentleman though, are you?” Marianne giggled. “Didn't you ever hear of 'ladies first'? I want to feel you cum on my tongue before you get to taste me.”

“OK!” I said, maybe a bit too eagerly.

“Sit up there,” Marianne said, gesturing to the edge of the tub. Before I even settled my weight fully, she had my cock in her mouth.

To say that she was talented with her mouth is like calling Everest a decent-sized hill. I've had my share of blowjobs in my day, but none quite like this. After her initial inhalation of my meat, sucking hard and licking what she could with her mouth full, she backed away very slowly, holding her lips firmly closed around me. The effect was similar to pulling the cork out of a bottle of wine.

She held me by the base of the shaft and looked up at me with a huge, lustful smile. She licked her lips luxuriously as she bore into me with her large, rich brown eyes. Then she seemed to study my man-parts, examining every bit almost clinically. I imagined I could feel the heat of her eyes as her focus shifted everywhere over my cock and balls.

After an agonizingly long time (probably only a few seconds, really), she looked up at me again. This time, she was biting her lower lip. I was acutely aware of the extreme engorgement of my shaft as it bobbed slightly in time with my heartbeat.

“I like to take my time. I hope you don't mind,” she whispered. Before I could answer, she pushed her tongue out between her lips, slowly, luxuriously, teasing me. Never breaking eye contact, she pressed the tip of her tongue against my piss-slit. Immediately, I felt a large drop of pre-cum escape me. Marianne made a deep moaning sound as she tasted it.

“Ohhhhh, God!” I hissed through clenched teeth.

“I hope you'll enjoy this as much as I will,” she said as she gently pushed on the insides of my thighs, urging me to spread my legs a little. She dipped down and took one long slow lick, all the way from my taint, over my sack between my balls, and then up the underside of my shaft. When she reached the little triangle at the corona, she pushed more firmly with her tongue, and then began to flutter it left and right, creating almost painful pleasure.

I shuddered and involuntarily bucked my hips, causing the head of my cock to push against her lips.

“Patience is a virtue, Kevin,” she said. She had pulled back to look up at me, and she made a soft sound like an evil giggle. “Please, hold still. I promise you, I'll make it worth your while.” She grabbed my hips firmly to urge me to stay in place.

I took a few deep breaths. “I'll do my best,” I said.

“So will I.” She smiled again and set to work.

I had never really thought before about how many nerve endings I must have in my scrotum and testicles, the base of my penis, and everywhere on the shaft, let alone on the head. Marianne, apparently, already knew the answer, because she kissed, licked, and nibbled on every one of them.

I desperately needed to cum, but I struggled not to. I realized that the longer I lasted, the longer my pleasure would last.

“Don't cum yet. I'm not done with you yet,” she said.

“Then you'd better stop that right now.” I pulled her up out of the water and sat her next to me on the edge of the tub. I kissed her, hard, passionately, hungrily. She responded in kind. I could feel her one firm breast against my side, the hard nipple crushed into my ribs. I had to play with her breasts again.

I continued kissing her, alternating between forceful kisses on her mouth, and gentle pecks on her forehead, eyes, chin, and cheeks. When I first kissed her behind the ear, I got a very pleasant whiff of sweet, aroused woman. She moaned softly when I licked from her ear down to her collarbone and back, and her nails raked lightly down my back when I nibbled on her earlobe.

I couldn't wait any longer. I kissed my way over to her throat, and then down the center of her chest. When my lips were a few inches below the base of her breastbone, I sucked the skin between my lips, allowing my teeth to graze against it.

“Oh dear God,” she whispered. “You have me so wet.”

I licked the underside of her breast as she quivered against me. Her breathing was fast and labored.

I circled her areola with my mouth, licking, kissing, and sucking the delicate, silky skin. Marianne began to whimper.

When I first allowed my tongue to flick lightly over her nipple, I felt her hips begin to move. When I actually kissed her nub, she started to gasp noisily. When I sucked her nipple firmly into my mouth, she pushed my head against her roughly. And when I began to slowly bite down on the tender but hard morsel, she stiffened and bucked her hips as though she was struggling to get an imaginary cock all the way into her.

Marianne shoved her knuckles into her mouth to muffle her scream, “Kevvvvviiiiinnnnnnnnnn!”

I held her tightly, rocking her slowly as she gathered herself.

Gradually, she straightened up. She shook herself slightly, as though she were trying to clear her head. She gave me another of her award-winning smiles, which slowly changed into the sluttiest, lustiest grin I had ever seen. “Mister, you're in for it now!”

With feather-light touches, she dragged her fingers across my chest, toying with my nipples. When she lowered her hands to my abdomen, she began to kiss and lick the areas her fingertips had just pleasured. Her hands moved lower, until one was cradling my balls while the other was lightly stroking my still-hard cock. Her mouth was busy kissing, licking, sucking, and nibbling on the flesh of my belly.

Marianne moved down to kneel between my legs. She held my cock at the base and dragged the leaking tip of it across her lips. Then she stared hard at me again, mesmerizing me with the fire in her dark eyes. She smiled and whispered, “Here. We. Go.”

She opened her mouth and put just the head of my cock inside. Clamping her lips firmly around the corona, she started to jack me off with one hand and fondle my balls with the other, all the while furiously licking the head of my cock.

I don't have any idea how long I lasted, although it seemed like it was quite a while. All I knew was that this gorgeous, talented woman was trying to give me the most mind-blowing orgasm I had ever felt.

She succeeded. When I began to cum, she looked up at me. The pure lust in her eyes made me shoot so hard I was afraid I would blow her head off.

She never broke her rhythm. As I spurted, she just kept licking and stroking, urging more and more from me. Even after I was spent, she kept on, licking, pumping, and gazing into my eyes. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled away from her, and she briefly showed me the huge mouthful she had gotten from me. She swallowed twice, licked her lips, and swallowed again.

“I think you needed that,” she laughed. Then she stood up and got out of the tub. Grabbing a towel, she began to dry off. I followed her and toweled down quickly.

“Do you want some more wine?” she asked. Without waiting for my answer, she went inside. I followed her into the kitchen and stood behind her, admiring her trim, toned ass as she opened the bottle. When she turned to face me, the bottle in one hand and two fresh glasses in the other, I kissed her.

“Hold onto that stuff,” I said. Then I scooped her up in my arms.

“What are you doing?” she asked with a laugh.

“It's my turn,” I replied as I carried her toward the bedroom, “to taste you.”

I must admit, it was a little awkward carrying a naked woman through the house while she held an open bottle of wine and two glasses, but I managed it. After I had laid her down, I took the bottle and glasses and poured us each a small drink of wine.

“A toast?” she asked.

“Sure. To what?”

“My ex-husband and your ex-girlfriend,” she said.

“Why the hell would we drink a toast to them?” I asked, shocked.

“If they hadn't cheated on us, we'd still be with them, and we wouldn't be here together tonight,” she grinned.

“Oh, OK, now that you explain it that way, I get it. Yes, by all means, let's drink to them,” I said with a laugh. “And, we must drink to Mike, for showing us what was going on.”

I sat on her bed next to her. We sipped our wine in silence for a few minutes. Then Marianne said, “Someone said that living well is the best revenge. To me, that means doing whatever I can to be happy, while trying to make others happy, too. You see, that's what makes me so different from Bob. He tried to be happy, but he didn't give a rat's ass what it did to other people.” Then she laughed out loud. “Can you imagine how he would have felt if he had seen what happened in the hot tub a few minutes ago?”

I took her glass and put it on the nightstand next to mine. “I wonder what Karen would say if she could see what's going to happen next?” I kissed Marianne again, tenderly and softly this time.

“What's going to happen next?” she asked.

“Oh, I don't know. I'm sure I'll think of something.” I lay down on the bed next to her and pulled her against me. We kissed, long and passionately. God, could this woman ever kiss!

As our tongues played, I stroked the tips of my fingers lightly across her nipples, coaxing them to hardness again. Much as she had done to me, I lowered my caressing hand to her stomach at the same time as I began to kiss her breasts. As I expected, she started to moan quietly and to slightly arch her back as though she wanted to get more of her feminine flesh against my mouth.

Her breasts were marvelous – firm, compact, silky smooth, and topped with beautiful, responsive nipples. I got lost for a moment sucking and nibbling on them, and I imagine she would have been happy if I had stayed there, but the alluring aroma coming from between her legs reminded me of what I had brought her in here to do.

When I first touched her smooth, wet lower lips with my fingertips, she let out a loud gasp. Immediately, she bucked her pelvis at me, seeking to bury my fingers inside her. I obliged her, sliding my middle finger into her slippery, tight pussy while stroking my thumb across her clit. Marianne seemed to be trying to say something to me, but all that came from her mouth were gasps, moans, and a few disjointed syllables. I think she was enjoying herself.

A second finger inside her made her cum. Hard.

I realized that my hand and the insides of her thighs were now slick with fluid. Had she squirted, or was she just very, very wet? Could I make her squirt? How cool would that be?

I had to try.

I moved down in the bed so I was between her legs. Slowly, I kissed my way up her thighs, taking a few licks and nibbles from one leg and then the other. The closer my mouth got to Marianne's pussy, the more her hips moved. I realized I might actually have to hold her down if I expected to taste her sweet nectar from the source.

“Hold still, baby. I want to lick you now.”

“I can't!” she moaned.

“You have to. I'll help.” I grabbed her pelvis with both hands, my thumbs on her hips and my fingers pointing toward her navel. I rested my weight on my upper arms across her thighs, effectively pinning her to the bed. Good. Now I could feast.

I never tasted a woman quite like Marianne. The best description I can give of her flavor is a mixture of lemon and honey, with a hint of musk. That doesn't do it justice, but it's the best I can do. Suffice it to say, it was heavenly. The flavor of her alone was almost enough to make me cum.

I licked her with just the point of my tongue, starting on her perineum, teasing my way up the tight cleft between her swollen labia, and finishing with a flick of her clit.

“Oh, God, Kevin!” she gasped.

“Shhhh! Lie back and enjoy,” I murmured, as I began another pass. Each time I licked her, I started near her crinkled pink star and moved my tongue as slowly as I could, a little more firmly each time. It was on about the tenth pass when she came again, squealing and convulsing.

This time, I didn't give her a chance to recover. I moved my hands so I could pull her labia apart with my fingers, hardened my tongue, and began to vigorously tongue-fuck her. After every couple of thrusts, I licked her pleasure button. When she came this time, she forced her pelvis up from the bed, lifting much of my upper body with it. The sounds she made were animalistic, and seemed to come from deep inside her.

I eased two fingers inside her drenched, tight tunnel and curled them to look for her g-spot. Yes! There it was! Even if I hadn't recognized it by the texture, Marianne's strangled little scream let me know that I was there. I began to manipulate it, praying that it would have the desired effect.

“Uh, uh, uh, oh God, uh, uh, Kevin! What... are... you... doing... to... me?” she gasped, thrashing her head from side to side.

“Hopefully, giving you pleasure,” I said, just before sucking her clit forcefully between my lips.

“AAAAAHHHHHYYYYYEEEEE!” Marianne's hands clenched the sheets as she bucked violently. I was relentless, massaging and sucking, as the juice flowed freely from her onto my hand, wrist, and face.

Suddenly, she lay still. The only sound was her labored breathing, trying to replenish the oxygen she had consumed. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes and said, “No more.”

“What? Why?”

Her words came in a rush. “I can't take any more, or I'll pass out or die or something. Please, please, baby, you have to stop! I've never cum that hard! Oh my God, why is everything so wet? I can't believe how hard you made me cum!”

“You squirted,” I whispered. I was very proud of myself. “I want to make you do it again.”

“No, no, no, please, no, I can't do that again. Not tonight, anyway.” She grabbed my head and lifted it out of her crotch, forcing me to look at her. “Fuck me, Kevin, please just fuck me!”

I wiped my chin with my dry hand and moved up in the bed to hold her. “I'm going to make love to you now.”

“You've been doing that, baby. Now I want you to fuck me. In fact, I think I'm going to fuck you!” she said. She pushed me down so I was lying on my back, and straddled me. “I'm going to ride you until you're weak!”

Marianne aimed my cock at her steamy pussy and began to lower herself. “Oh, God, finally! I've been wanting you inside me for hours!”

The feeling of penetrating this phenomenal woman for the first time is something I'll never forget. She was tight – amazingly tight. I'm not porn-star huge (although I've never had any complaints), but she felt so DAMN good. From the time my cock first teased her opening until her pelvis was resting on mine took about thirty seconds, and every one of them was glorious. I'm glad she was so wet, since it seemed like she needed to stretch a lot to accommodate me.

When she bottomed out on me, she let out a contented sigh. “Part of me wants to just sit here for the rest of the night,” she said.

“Works for me, baby.”

“But another, bigger part of me wants to do this,” she said with her patented evil grin, as she slowly raised herself again. When she got almost to the top, she swiveled her hips slightly to the left and right and then slowly lowered herself again. “How does that feel?”

I almost couldn't find my voice. “Do I dare to cum inside you?”

“You'd better! I had my tubes tied years ago, and I'm not getting off you until you fill me up.” She raised and lowered herself again. “God, Kevin, you feel good inside me. You're so deep! It's been way too long since I had a man.” She raised and lowered herself again.

“Lean forward,” I said.

“Why?” she asked as she continued to move up and down.

“I want your tits.”

“Oh, OK!” she leaned down to put them in easy reach.

When I started to massage and tweak her nipples, she increased her pace. She was now fucking me purposefully, but not too fast. This was a pace that I knew would eventually bring me off, but we weren't out of control. But then I reached up to her shoulders and pulled her down on top of me so we could kiss. She started to move faster.

When she broke our kiss, I bent my neck so I could kiss her breasts. I licked her nipples and then sucked one while lightly pinching the other. Finally, I latched onto a nipple with my teeth and bit gently while giving the other one about a quarter twist. At that point, her afterburners kicked in. That's the only way I can describe it, since the sound coming from her throat was like a jet fighter plane launching from an aircraft carrier. And her pussy was almost that hot.

I started rabbit-fucking her as hard and fast as I knew how. She came, but I didn't (couldn't!) stop. She came again, harder than before, which only inspired me to plow her faster and deeper. I was lifting her by her hips as I lowered mine and slamming her back down on me as I rammed upward. I knew I didn't have much time left, and I wanted her to cum again when I exploded, so I forced my hand between our bellies and started strumming her clit while continuing to gnaw on her nipple. I forced my cock as deep inside her as I could get and held it there, and her pussy muscles tightened convulsively around me.

Somehow, I didn't cum. When I felt her orgasm pass, I lifted her off me and dropped her on the bed next to me. “Ready for more?” I growled.

“What? Hell yes! If I can hold it together, that is.”

“Get on your hands and knees!”

“Oh God, yes, fuck me that way!” she moaned.

I got in position behind her. He tight ass looked so good. I pushed my thumb into her soaked pussy, pulled some of her natural lubricant up over her little star, and eased my thumb inside her anus. She let out a scream of pleasure and reached between her legs to grab my raging cock.

“I need you to cum in my cunt. Now, Kevin!”

Who was I to deny the request of a beautiful, sex-crazed woman? With her hand guiding me, I eased my rod into her winking pussy, but kept that thumb buried in her ass.

“Deep, baby, fuck me deep and hard,” she moaned as she slammed herself repeatedly against me.

My God, this woman was an animal! She was ramming herself on and off me so hard that all I had to do was keep my balance. That left me free to do what I wanted, so I began working my thumb in circles inside her rectum while using my other hand to fondle her breasts.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, oh God, I'm going to cum again!” she shrieked. With that, she rose up into almost a sitting position, forcing me upright as well. The result was almost a reverse cowgirl-type ride, with me kneeling and her sitting on my lap. I pulled my thumb from her ass and used both hands to pull her nipples roughly away from her chest.

That did it for both of us. As I drenched the inside of her, her own cum was flowing freely over me.

We held that position for what seemed like forever. I think we both held our breath, too. Finally, we capsized onto our sides on the bed, still joined at the genitals. I was still mostly hard, so I gently spoon-fucked her as we struggled to regain somewhat normal breathing.

Suddenly, Marianne started to giggle.

“What's so funny?”

“Us.”

“What do you mean?”

By this time, she had pulled off my now-deflated cock and turned to embrace me. She tried to kiss me, but she was chuckling too hard.

“Come on, baby, why are you laughing? What did I do?”

“Just kiss me till I calm down.”

“Sure.” I kissed her, with exhausted passion at first, but after a while, tenderly. I was truly in post-coital bliss, which, for a guy, means drowsy.

“Wake up, lover boy, I'm not done with you yet,” Marianne purred.

“Yeah, I think you are. You used me up for now,” I said.

“Aha, the operative phrase is, 'for now.' Well, guess what? You're staying the night. I just bet I can get more out of you later if I put my mind to it. But right now, we need a shower. You're just as drenched with sweat and cum as I am. Come on, the shower's big enough for two, if they're good enough friends. Are we good enough friends by now?” she asked, batting her big brown eyes at me innocently.

“I think so.”

“Be a dear and go out and put out the torches while I change the bedding. I think we made it a little messy,” she grinned. “I'll meet you in the shower.”

We behaved in the shower, at least at first. I shampooed and conditioned her lovely hair, and I washed her back for her, although she took care of the front of her body. When she turned her attention to me, she washed every part of me. Every part. Even though I was drained, and more than a little tired from the wine and the sex, my body responded when I rinsed the shampoo from my head and opened my eyes. Marianne was on her knees in front of me, her face less than a foot from my re-invigorating dick.

“He looks different this way,” she said.

“Huh?”

“He looks different this way, you know, not rock hard. Nice, beautiful, in fact, but still.... Hmm, I think I like him better the other way.” Without any more fanfare, she sucked my cock deep into her mouth.

In seconds, the feel of her talented lips and tongue on my manhood had me getting as hard as ever.

“Marianne, I'm not sure I can cum again right now. You took a lot out of me,” I moaned.

“Yeah, I know. Believe me, baby, I should know,” she said, smiling up at me. “That doesn't stop this from feeling good, does it?”

“No.”

“Then shut up and enjoy, because I like doing this to you. I like giving you pleasure. Who knows, maybe you'll pay me back at some point,” she said, as she pushed my cock upwards so she could suck my left nut into her mouth.

If I bent just the right way, I could play with her nipples between my fingers. I loved the soft little moans and squeals she made, depending on whether I was massaging them or pinching them.

After thoroughly massaging my balls with her tongue and sucking and nibbling the skin of my scrotum with her lips, Marianne began to lick the entire length of my shaft. Soon her one hand moved down to stimulate her clit.

Marianne looked up at me with her smoldering brown eyes. “Sucking you makes me so damn hot I think I could just burst into flame. But, my God, honey, my pussy's tired. I'm not sure I can make love with you again right now. You felt huge inside me. I guess it's just that it's been such a long time since much more than a finger or two has been inside me.”

“That's OK, Marianne. Before we came in here, I said I wasn't sure I could do anything more tonight.”

“But you're good and hard. And you're leaking like crazy. Have I told you how good you taste on my tongue? I'm afraid I might not enjoy having that big meat-stick in my poor ravaged pussy again right now, but don't you need to cum again?”

“I need to, I want to, but I'm tired too, so no, if you want to stop there, I'm fine. Let's just get out and dry off. I want to hold you and touch you.”

“It would be wonderful if we could just fall asleep against each other. I haven't slept in a man's arms in far too long,” she said with a tender smile.

We dried each other off, rubbing, caressing, touching, and kissing. When we made it back to the bed, we laid down entwined in each other's arms. I fell asleep after I felt her breathing soften as her head lay on my chest. The last thing she had said to me was, “I'm going to make you happy in the morning.”

The next thing I was aware of was a warm, moist, delicious sensation on my penis. Was I dreaming? I decided I must be, and the dream was wonderful. Marianne was bathing my morning wood with her tongue. Then I realized it was light in the room. Morning had come.

“Well, this is a pleasant way to wake up,” I said softly.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Marianne said between licks. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a man who had a wonderful, passionate night with a talented, beautiful woman.”

“You forgot to say insatiable,” Marianne giggled. “But then, I was the one who said I might be too sore to really enjoy having you inside me like I wanted to, so I guess you must have sated me.”

“How do you feel this morning?” I asked.

“Ready.” With that, she swung her body over me and squatted with her pussy poised over my erection. “Make love to me, Kevin.”

She lowered herself onto me slowly. She was right. She felt ready. Tight, slippery, hot, and ready. Slowly, she raised and lowered herself, taking long strokes, occasionally swiveling her hips slightly so that I really began to understand the derivation of the term, “screwing.”

“Come down here, baby. I need to kiss you. I need to feel your beautiful breasts against my chest,” I said.

She lowered her upper body to mine, rubbing her hard nipples against mine, kissing me with tenderness, emotion, and soft passion. We weren't fucking this time, we were making love. There was no urgency, no rushing to climax, no screaming, no grunting, no sweating – just a beautiful, soft, warm feeling of intimacy.

After a few minutes, by unspoken agreement, we rolled over as one conjoined body, so that we were in a classic missionary position. Marianne's arms and legs enveloped my torso and thighs as her feminine depths enveloped my manhood. We made love in a way that ensured that the pleasure would last a long time. When we finally came, we came together. It was quiet, gentle, and immensely satisfying.

After many deep but loving kisses, I moved off her. She rolled on her side, and I spooned up against her.

“That was nice,” she said.

“Yeah, it really was.” I was very relaxed, and gave some consideration to dozing again, since I thought she had drifted off.

She broke the silence. “You're poking me,” she chuckled.

“What?”

“Your cock. It's poking me in the ass.”

I realized my erection had never gone completely soft, and was now nestled between her warm, firm butt-cheeks. “Sorry.”

“Don't be. I like it. Have you ever done more than just poke a woman like that?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever fucked a girl's ass?”

“Actually, no. Has anyone ever done that to you?”

“Not yet,” Marianne said in a sultry whisper. She was grinning back at me over her shoulder. “So, what are your dinner plans for tonight?”
26 comments

Ghostrider939Report

2011-04-18 22:55:14
Fuck it wsf, can you even write a BAD story. You have the knack to bring humanity to your characters before they get bonked silly. . . and the bonking is pretty good too

Fix'mReport

2011-03-12 03:13:15
Another Outstanding story. You're one hell of a writer!

Fix'm

anonymous readerReport

2010-11-20 10:28:17
Let's all praise our nigger-boy Obama. Now, let's get fucking these white chicks who think anything black trumps anything white. Pump 'em full of black baby batter until it's running down their legs. Then, let's all enjoy the earth being overrun by mulatto babies to emulate the great Obama. Then we kill all the muslim slime that's stinking up the place. Whites are afraid of Muslims, Mulattoes are the solution.

anonymous readerReport

2010-11-06 00:27:52
loved the squirting of the pussy. very delicious and intimate

anonymous readerReport

2010-11-01 16:13:03
excellent story.keep going with it.

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