A Surprise Visit

NOTE: This is my first story on this site, though I've been a fan of Literotica for quite awhile. This is an actual fantasy of mine – the beginning story is true, and necessary to understand why the fantasy seems a bit strange to me. Names and events have been altered for personal privacy. Let me know what you think.

It's been almost six years since my divorce.

Now...in order to really get the feel of this story, I'll need to give you a little bit of background information. My name is Sean, and I'm in my late twenties. I got married when I was only twenty to Lori, who seemed, at the time, to be everything I'd ever wanted in a woman. She was enthusiastic about everything – she went out of her way to make me happy, had dinner ready when I got home from work every night, and kept the house perfectly clean. And the sex....the sex was nothing short of amazing. She was more experienced than I was – and was honest about it – so she was able to show me pleasures I'd never enjoyed with the few other girls I'd been with. It all seemed perfect, at first.

We had two children – both boys, and little changed, at first. But as bills mounted, and the kids needed more and more, I ended up working long hours. With only one car, Lori would have to pack the kids into the car and pick me up, even when it was late. She would call me continuously during the day, and update me on what the kids were doing, how things were, what she was up to, and what she had planned for the evening. She continued to go out of her way to make me happy. I had no idea where things were going.

It started when I came home early one day to find her chat log left open – this was back when the internet was new, and no one knew quite how to hide that sort of thing. Most of the messages had been deleted, but there were enough for me to read. Her last message was "Did you like what we did earlier?" The response: "Yes, but I can't wait to do it in person".

I was outraged, and deleted the connection program (again – we used dial-up then) and confronted her. She said it was just from a game she was playing online, and tried her best to convince me that it was innocent. I didn't buy it, but wanted to believe her – stupid me. Over the next few weeks, with the internet out, she always seemed to be on the phone 'with her mother' when I called. Then came the day where she didn't answer. Didn't pick me up at work. I found another ride, and came home to find her gone. Turns out, the texting had been between her and my best friend – and he'd apparently been 'doing it in person' while I was at work for weeks.

The divorce was messy – during its course, I found out from friends of hers that she'd been sleeping around quite a bit, and had always been something of a whore. Of course, I knew she was experienced, but the sheer way it was presented to me was a shock. In the end, I got full custody of the boys, and due to a few drug and neglect charges on her part, got a court order for her to avoid them unless she cleaned up her act. She disappeared after that, and I found out through the grapevine that she'd married my former friend. Good riddance.

Now, it's been almost six years. I haven't heard anything from her, and didn't really want to. I've been in a few relationships since then, but honestly, have been pretty jaded by the way my marriage went, so nothing really lasting formed. I have some good female friends that take care of my more base needs now and then – but haven't really tried for much more. I'm almost thirty now, but am in good shape, I must be at least fairly good looking, considering the attention I get from the women I know, and I've never heard any complaints about my performance. I enjoy life as much as possible, and have been pretty happy with things as they were.

One day, however, I was sitting at home, on my day off, and there was a knock at the door. I wasn't expecting company, so was a little surprised. Imagine my shock when I opened the door, and found my ex-wife standing there, looking at me. She looked slightly nervous, but good – her dark brown hair had grown out to her waist, and she'd kept her body in good shape. She was only 5'2" tall, but had a 38DD chest – one of the highlights of our sex life, back in the day. I was shocked at first, but the shock faded fast, as the memories of what she'd put me through came back. I grew cold and angry.

"What are you doing here?

"Look...I know you probably don't want to see me – but I need to talk to you about the boys."

I couldn't believe her audacity. She had a court order to stay away from them, hadn't seen them in years, and now was on my doorstep, uninvited, and asking to talk to me about them?

"Please?" She asked, folding her hands in front of her. "Just give me five minutes, then I'll leave you alone."

I hesitated. Interaction with her wasn't exactly something I wanted to deal with – as I said, I'd been happy with her being out of the picture for so long. But a small part of me gnawed at my conscience – she was their mother. I could at least hear her out, even if I was sure I was just going to tell her off and kick her out. Hell, for the moment, at least, I could be the better man.

"Fine. Five minutes. Come in."

She came in, smiling – still nervously – and I shut the door behind her. Even with my anger in place, I couldn't help but look her over. Shoot me, I'm a single guy. Damn, she looked good. She was wearing a plaid skirt (always a mainstay of her wardrobe, and something she may have remembered had been a favorite of mine) and a tan shirt, which fit her curves in all the right places. Calf-high boots completed the ensemble. I was glad she'd left her hair down. When we were married, she'd meet me at the door some nights in an outfit just like this, but with pigtails. Half the time, we never made it to the bedroom.

This time, she sat in my easy chair and crossed her legs, folding her hands over her knee. I walked across the room and sat on the loveseat across from her, wondering what she wanted. She didn't make me wait, jumping right into conversation, and actually seeming to want to honor the five-minute rule.

"Look...I wanted to let you know that Ray & I got married..." Nothing I didn't know, but she had no way of knowing that. I just leaned back in my seat, arcing an eyebrow and wondering why this mattered to me, or to my children.

"...and we have a daughter, Tara. I know you don't care, but I thought you should know...she's in the same class as Jake."

Jake was my youngest, and a part of me twitched as I did the math in my head and realized that she must have been pregnant before the divorce. I bit my tongue though, and nodded. She didn't have to tell me this – with different last names, the kids never would have known they were half-siblings – and I probably never would have found out otherwise. So I just nodded. "So...why does it matter?"

"Well, I just wanted you to know, in case you saw us around, at the school, or something. I know what you think of me – and with good reason." A quick addition as I raised both eyebrows this time. "But I don't want any problems. You probably wouldn't agree that I've changed my ways, so I won't ask you to let me see the boys – but if we're going to be living in the same town, we may run into each other – and I just want to make sure we can handle ourselves like adults."

Honestly, I was almost impressed. This was beyond what I'd expected from her. But I found myself nodding, some of my earlier anger fading quickly at the wisdom of her words. "I think I can handle that. Thank you for telling me."

She smiled, and looked at her watch. "I only used about a minute and a half...you gave me five." She winked, and I had to grit my teeth...she'd hold me to it, too. "So...it's been years. How are you?"

I sighed, and put my arms behind my head, relaxing as much as I could. After our history, I still felt uncomfortable – but if I'd just agreed to be adult with her, a little small talk shouldn't bother me.

"I'm good. Good job, decent apartment, kids are happy...I'm good."

Obviously, I had no clue how to respond. She caught that, and laughed, shaking her head.

"Just 'Good'? What have you been up to...?"

Oddly, I found myself relaxing, and actually being able to talk to her. Soon, we were talking like old friends, being fairly open, dodging subjects that would cause immediate problems, and even making jokes about our old lives together. I mentioned that it was nice to take hot showers, without her hogging the heater until the hot water ran out. She mentioned that she didn't need to fight with me over blankets at night. We'd laugh, and move on to the next subject. And suddenly, without warning, we were talking about sex.

"Remember role-playing?" She laughed as she asked. "I think that was my favorite, though I think I let it influence me a bit too much..." she trailed off, looking a bit sheepish. Not wanting to start hating her again immediately, I pushed the conversation, while steering away from where she seemed headed.

"I remember that....which was your favorite?" We'd created multiple characters, and would act out all sorts of scenes...cops, schoolgirl, rape...even incest. That last turned out to be her favorite, she admitted with a deep blush. She recounted a scene we'd played out, where I was 'Daddy', and she was the daughter, coming down to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Sitting on Daddy's lap turned really interesting...you can guess where it went after that.

She smirked as she reminisced, and unconsciously ran a finger across her right thigh. "Yeah, I've thought about that one a lot...I was surprised at how much it turned me on. Still am." She laughed, but there was an obvious hitch in her voice.

Hell, just reminiscing about it was turning ME on. I couldn't help it, and had to respond. "Obviously".

The blush deepened, but she was never one to be shy – and she loved pushing buttons. "Oh, please...if I didn't think you'd kick me out for being indecent, I'd ask to use you bed so I could go take care of myself." She gave a wink, but blinked in shock when I answered.

"You're entirely welcome – so long as I can watch."

The room went silent as she stared at me in surprise. But the shock slowly turned mischievous, as she leaned back slightly, and uncrossed her legs, showing just a hint of inner thigh. "Are you serious?"

My blood was rushing like you wouldn't believe, and I could hear my heart beating in my skull. But I kept my composure and shrugged, smiling back at her as noncommittally as I could. "Why not? I'm single – I don't get many chances to enjoy a live show." I winked.

She bit her lower lip, and slowly rose to her feet. "I'm married...and while I know you don't think that means much coming from me, you can't touch me. Those are the rules."

I looked her over as she stood over me. Her breasts were rising and falling as her breathing became shallow – whether it was more nervousness or excitement, I couldn't tell. But I knew the look in her eye. She was horny as hell, and I'd be damned if I wasn't going to take advantage of it – even if it just meant a private show. "Hey, works for me. Bedroom's through the kitchen."

She hesitated for only a moment before turning, and moving through the kitchen quickly, as though she were trying to get there before changing her mind. I locked the living room door – just in case – and followed. By the time I'd gotten there, she was already in my bed, kneeling and looking at herself in the mirror, her hands resting lightly on her knees. "Remember...no touching."

I nodded, and leaned against the dresser, blocking her view of the mirror and standing directly in front of her. Slowly, she began to run her fingertips over her upper thighs. Up and down, each stroke growing in distance, as she slowly made her way over her waist, her stomach, and finally brushed her breasts and neck. I was already so hard it hurt – my cock ached to be free of my jeans, but I held back, just watching. She closed her eyes, and on her next run down her thighs, slid her hands underneath her skirt.

"I never thought I'd be like this again...on my knees, in front of you. In your bed...touching myself..."

Her voice trailed off as she leaned back, the skirt sliding up her thighs until the very bottom of her panties – a white, lace-fringed thong – became visible. She used her right thumb to hold up the skirt, making sure I could see, as she started stroking herself gently over the thin strip of cloth. She glanced at me through half-lidded eyes and smiled, pressing gently against her wet mound as she gauged my reaction. It must have been a good one, because she smiled, and pushed deeper, the white of the thong darkening as it became wet with her juices.

I don't know if I still looked calm. I was having trouble breathing, my blood pressure was about to cause me some level of physical damage, and my whole body was hot as hell. As I watched, she pulled the thong aside, revealing her smooth, clean-shaved slit – something I've always enjoyed, and sank her middle finger to the first knuckle, moaning as she did so. Half unconsciously, my hands moved to my zipper, and released my cock. I've been told by women that I'm "huge" – 8&1/2 inches, by Lori's own measure, when fully erect. The release alone edged some of my aching, but I couldn't help myself, and began slowly stroking myself as I watched her, wishing to god I could impale her.

She'd leaned her head back as she fingered her sex, her moans growing louder, and her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her other hand had moved up, and was massaging her tits with quite a bit of force. I remembered nights mauling those things until she ached the next day, and my mouth watered. But I'd made a promise – and I was going to keep to it. No touching.

She lowered her head, and her eyes widened as she saw my cock, sticking straight up out of my jeans, my hand slowly running up and down it's length. "What are you doing?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "I said I wouldn't touch YOU. I never said I wouldn't touch ME. Forgive me if I want to enjoy myself as I watch a gorgeous woman pleasure herself on my bed."

She nodded, her eyes set on my cock, and resumed her own rubbing. She looked semi-euphoric as she stared...maybe a bit nostalgic. I had to smile as she verified what I wondered about her thoughts. "Christ...I forgot how big that thing was..." She leaned back further, and slid her legs out from under her, lying back on my pillows. Still rubbing her clit with her left hand, she used the right to reach down and remove her thong, tossing it to the side. Spreading her legs wider, she made sure I had a clear view as she pushed her first two fingers into her, then spread them, opening her lips to my view.

"Fuck, I'm so wet...I love watching you stroke that cock. Bet you're enjoying this, aren't you? Don't you wish you could put that monster here?" She accentuated the word by pushing deep inside herself, a moist sucking sound coming from her pussy as she did so. "You do, don't you. Jerk that cock for me. Faster."

I realized that I was unconsciously following her command, and forced myself to slow down. I was already aching to blow my load, but did NOT want this scene – something straight out a porn flick – to end. She pouted as I slowed my rhythm, her voice taking on a slightly pleading tone. "Oh come on...don't stop. I want you to go faster. I want to see you cum..."

I smirked, a devilish feeling rising in me. It had been years, but she still had all the tell-tale signs. There was a point with Lori where – once reached – you could get her to do almost anything. She was almost there. My mouth watered.

"If you want to see this cock cum...you need to earn it. Take out your tits."

I could tell by the look on her face that she enjoyed the sudden change of pace. She almost ripped her shirt, pulling it down, and yanking off the bra that held them in. Her tits – beautiful, porcelain-white globes, tipped with dark brown silver-dollar nipples burst free of the confining cloth, bouncing slightly as they hit her stomach. Her nipples were hard enough to cut glass. "You know what to do."

She nodded, and immediately began kneading them, pinching her nipples hard as she wrenched the soft flesh in her hands. She was rougher than I remembered, but boy was it turning me on. I gritted my teeth as I watched her, squeezing my cock and willing myself to hold back. I moved away from the dresser, and over to the side of the bed, where I could get a full look at her body. I was now less than two feet away from her, my cock jutting out in her direction, and completely within her reach. She looked up at me, a pained, pleading expression on her face, as she worked herself up more. "You're evil!"

Her voice was little more than a whisper, but I just smiled. As her left hand moved back down to the sweet valley between her legs, I slowly started stroking my cock again, positioning it so it pointed right at her. She stared at it, her lips parted, knowing that – if I came – I was going to soak her. The thought seemed to turn her on even more, and her movements became frantic, rubbing her pussy with a ferocity I hadn't seen in years.

"Please...do it. Do it faster. Cum for me."

I didn't reply, just smiling. I also didn't pick up the pace of my movements, continuing with long, slow strokes. She whimpered, and I knew I had her. I slid my hand up, grasping the head of my cock tightly, and stopped, feeling a drop of pre-cum on my finger.

"Why did you stop?" her voice was a higher pitch now, and she looked genuinely upset. I just sighed, and shrugged, shaking my head, and removing my hand from my cock. She stared at it, licking her lips, as I answered. "I can't finish this way. Sorry." And I went to move away.

I've always had a bit of trouble finishing myself off – most guys can jerk off three times a day or more, but it's a real workout for me – the only time I've reliably been able to cum every time was with a woman – so my response, while completely false at the moment, wasn't beyond the bounds of plausibility. She looked like she struggled with herself for just a second – maybe less – before releasing her tit and reaching up, wrapping her fingers around my cock. I blinked, only half-feigning my shock.

"What happened to not touching?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she began running her hand up and down my shaft, her fingers expertly applying just the right amount of pressure. I was in heaven, as her blue eyes looked up at me. "God, I've missed this thing. I've missed having it in my hands...in my pussy...in my mouth..." And with the, she leaned forward, and wrapped her lips around the head of my cock.

I couldn't take it. I grabbed her hair, and pulled her head back as I came, shooting spurt after spurt of cum into her mouth, on her chin, tits, and stomach. She loved every minute of it, swallowing what she could, and basking in the warmth of what she missed. When I stopped, she leaned forward and began to suck my cock, giving me the best blow job I've ever had in my life. My cock gave up any hopes it'd had about not staying hard, and became rigid again. It was still hungry – and so was I.

I looked at her, pulling her head back so she was forced to look me in the eyes.

"Do you want this cock"

She nodded, more fervently than I'd expected.

"Then say it."

"I want it..."

"You want WHAT?"

"Your cock...I want it..."

She cleared her throat, and said, more strongly,

"I want your cock. I want you to fuck me...fuck my pussy. Fuck my ass. Make me cum...make me cum like you used to..."

I didn't need any more encouragement. I stripped off my clothes, as she ripped her skirt free, and turned onto her hands and knees – always her favorite position. I dropped to my knees and grabbed her hips, devouring her pussy and ass. She buried her face in my pillows, moans becoming screams as I ran my tongue over her asshole, while sliding my fingers – three of them – in and out of her soaking wet pussy. Soon I had her quivering, her whole body shaking.