“I suppose it’s still on,” I said, “unless he just doesn’t show.”
My husband’s dark eyes ran the entire length of my body. “He’ll show, Baby. He’d have to be an idiot not to want this,” he said, sliding his right hand under the hem of my mini-skirt. He discreetly ran the tip of his index finger across the lips of my bare, shaved, smooth pussy.
Normally, Greg’s touch would elicit some kind of sexual response, if nothing but a quiver between my legs. At the moment, however, my response to his brief caress was severely impeded by an attack of nerves. Greg looked toward the door as a gust of frigid air blew across my back. I swiveled around on my barstool to follow his gaze.
His pictures had been impressive, but they didn’t come close to preparing me for the young Adonis who’d just entered the bar on that hot night in [geocity]. As he walked toward us, there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, and then he smiled at me from across the room. My nipples immediately beaded against the silky fabric of my shirt, and the small triangle between my thighs became moist.
Greg snickered. Leaning in toward me he whispered in my ear, “No, babe, I think he said his name is Peter.”
Greg had spent the first several weeks of this quest carefully perusing adult websites, and selected several candidates for my consideration who understood this rather unusual game. After weeks of exchanging emails, and photographs in varying stages of undress, I selected this absolutely gorgeous, rather well-endowed stud to potentially become my lover, launching my initiation into the “hotwife” lifestyle.
After formal introductions were made, Peter took the stool next to me. He pressed his muscular thigh against mine as he leaned across the bar to order a beer. The soft, worn denim of his jeans felt smooth against my bare leg. The tactile contact was intentional and effective. I was acutely aware of the perfectly chiseled, beautifully sculpted body sitting next to me, and my libido rocketed to red alert.
By the time we’d ordered a second round of drinks, the last patron had gone home for the evening. Only a bartender and the three of us remained. I excused myself to go to the ladies room, and as I passed by Greg, I caught his inquisitive look and silently mouthed the word “yes.” His response, a wink, and a smile, letting me know we were good to go.
I laughed out loud when I glanced in the mirror to swipe on a fresh coat of lip-gloss. My cheeks were flushed, and my pupils had dilated to twice their normal size. No mystery there; this boy had definitely tripped my trigger. Just the thought of Peter’s young, hard, naked body made my heart rate surge, and my pussy wet. Based on the lingering looks and sexual innuendo we’d exchanged over the past hour, I was pretty certain the visceral attraction was mutual.
My hand intuitively found its way to my clit as I stood in the deserted bathroom picturing his long, thick fully erect cock. Momentarily distracted by a very wicked fantasy, I was unaware someone else had entered the room. When I realized I was no longer alone I tugged my tight black skirt over my hips, and flushed with embarrassment. I stifled a giggle, and closed my eyes, hoping the intruder would disappear by the time I opened them.
Peter walked up behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist. He lifted my skirt, and then placed his hand on the warm, moist spot between my legs.
“I can help you with that,” he said, his voice husky.
I looked up and my eyes locked onto his in the mirror. I smiled, and placed my hand on top of his adding pressure, and leaned back into his broad chest. With his left hand occupied, he used his right to slowly unbutton my blouse. When he pinched my hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger my eyes closed in ecstasy, and I dropped my head onto his shoulder.
“Open your eyes,” he demanded, “I want you to watch.”
He kissed my exposed shoulder lightly, and. I groaned and did as he asked.
“Where’s Greg?” I managed.
“Watching the door for us,” he replied, pushing his finger deeper into my pussy.
“You’re so wet, baby.”
I nodded almost imperceptibly, and felt his dick swell against my bared buttocks. I was torn between wanting to watch his hands in the mirror, and needing to wrap mine around his large throbbing cock. I turned and slowly unzipped his jeans, and then peeled them off of his hips. I stroked my long red nails over his bulging hard-on. His cock climbed halfway up his washboard stomach, and I teased the tip of it with the pad of my thumb.
We kissed. The pressure of his tongue was light at first, but grew more demanding with the increase of pressure I applied to his cock. It was the kind of kiss that would’ve melted my clothes off. As luck would have it, they were already in a pile on the floor.
Public nudity, much less sex in a public place is not currently listed on my resume, but before I had time to be appalled by my own lewd display of wantonness, Peter began kissing, licking and sucking my breasts. My licentious behavior became less relevant when weighed against my overwhelming need for an orgasm.
I dropped onto my knees, and wrapped my lips around his cock, taking as much of him as I could fit into my mouth. I ran my tongue up and down the length of his staff, and finally sucked his cock into the back of my throat.
I felt a sharp intake of breath, and heard him groan. “Oh God, Ericka,” he said, through clenched teeth. “You have to stop.”
Peter pulled me to my feet and I wrapped my long legs around him. He placed the head of his nine inch cock inside me and gently entered me in small increments until my tight pussy opened to take all of him. He backed me into the tile wall, and began to thrust, plunging deeper and harder than I’d ever been fucked. I caught the corner of my lip in my teeth and bit down trying to stifle the screams I could no longer hold back as I climaxed. He covered my mouth with his in an attempt to smother the sounds of my orgasm. Waves of pleasure left me dazed and trembling in their wake. Peter held me close until the aftershocks had passed and I could breathe again.
“Jesus,” I whispered.
He spun me around and bent me over the sink, taking my hands and placing them on the corners of the basin. Reaching around me and his fingers began expertly stroking my clit, his hands moving in rapid short strokes, applying just the right amount of pressure in all the right places. I scooted back, pushing against him, and he slid his cock into my pussy. He groaned as I wiggled into position. I moved slightly forward and back again, keeping rhythm with each thrust. When he gripped my ass in both hands, I could feel the pressure in his cock building. When he finally exploded, the flow was so intense it lifted me off my feet.
We didn’t move for several seconds, both trying to regain our breath, as well as some sense of reality. Wrapping his arms around me once again, Peter kissed my neck, and then lifted me onto the sink, and smiled as he backed away from me.
“Don’t move,” he said.
Since I’d lost the ability to speak cognitively, I simply nodded. He reached behind him and rapped on the metal door. Peter’s cum was still oozing from my swollen pussy, and dribbled down my thigh. Winking at me, he pulled the door closed behind him as Greg took his place.
“That boy beat the shit out of your pussy, babe.”
I smiled and moaned something incomprehensible. Greg stroked my slick pussy, and his brown eyes darkened to black.
“So what do you think?” he asked. “This lifestyle seems to suit you, don’t you think?”
“Ummm,” I replied, licking my lips.
I unzipped his pants and reached out to touch him.
I laughed as I pulled his stiff dick out of his pants. “I may be new to the rodeo, Sugar, but I ‘m definitely looking forward to riding that bull again.”