Alan's Intrusion

You may have experienced that sometimes people come unexpectedly into your life with a bang, sometimes they just somehow merge with no fanfare, and at other times your life seems to become just hopelessly entangled with them and can’t seem to separate. This was not the case with Alan and me. Instead, we ran parallel for a few years, glanced off each other, and then spun our own way in a different direction.

First, I guess I should tell you about myself. My name is Cheryl Miller; I am currently thirty years old, and live in a relatively small town in Oklahoma. I am of medium height and weight and, without being vain, can say that my parents were so kind genetically as to leave me with reasonably nice features. In short, I get my share of attention from men even now, and I am five months pregnant with a second child. I have light brown hair and breasts that went from being ample as a teenager to becoming abundant as I matured in my early twenties. My husband says I am a magnet for “tit men,” which I think he finds very exciting.

Daryl and I grew up in a small town in the Texas panhandle. We dated through our senior year and, even though we both knew we were meant for each other, we also knew that we had to take different directions for a few years in order to ready ourselves for life. I had a real interest in the theatre and English and hoped to teach. He was a “hands on” guy and knew the crafts were for him. Being from families with modest incomes, we had to take what we could get. He had an uncle in Waco that welcomed him into his home for the considerable time it would take him to go through a really excellent technical school there to become a licensed electrician. I was drawn to a small school in Colorado through my grades and an old friend of my mother. In short, our love life was reduced to phone calls, letters, Christmas breaks, and summers.

Four years is a long time. I think, deep down, we both realized the impracticality of living apart and just standing around wringing our hands waiting for each other. There were other men that came and went in my life, and I’m sure there were women in his, too. Like most other teenagers “going steady,” we had petted heavily during our senior year. We reached the point of being totally naked together at times and masturbated each other to orgasm on numerous occasions. Once the graduation occurred and we were “grown up,” we lost no time in going all the way. We both took precautions and I’m sure he came to the same conclusion I did about the whole thing; I really liked it!

So, even though I knew where my heart was, I gave my body to a number of guys during the four years we were parted. I made sure there was never a commitment and I found that I could come to orgasm easily with a casual relationship. I’m not saying I had round heels. In four years, I was with six men at different times. I’m sure he was no different, being a really good-looking guy with a witty personality.

However, something did happen during this separation that had a fairly major impact on me. Since I was involved with theatre groups, for some reason I tended to get involved with older men. I’m not saying there were huge age differences, but when you are nineteen and he is twenty-seven or so, there is an appreciable difference. It was actually good in that these men were in it strictly for the short haul and made no attempt to complicate my life. The event that I am speaking of happened in October of my sophomore year. I was nineteen at the time and a very sophisticated man of twenty-nine introduced me to the fine art of cunnilingus. Oh, I knew about it, but nice boys and girls from the panhandle didn’t do it. I immediately fell in love with the tantalizing act and couldn’t get enough of it. My suitors for the next three years more than filled my expectations, as I made no pretense of what really turned me on.

Daryl was able to get through technical school and his apprenticeship before I graduated. Anxious to let me know how he really felt about me, he proposed and I accepted during my last Christmas at school. He had already taken a job with an oil field company in East Texas and had a surprisingly good income. A small wedding in late May finally brought us together and our life of bliss began. The first and sweetest thing he did was to allow me to take a job as an English and drama teacher in a medium size high school about sixty miles away from where he worked. This caused him to get up early and come home late in order for me to live close to my job. In addition, if you’ve never lived in an oil field, it waits for nobody, so he spent many long hours, nights and weekends, on the job.

For this, he was paid well and we were able to completely bank my entire paycheck. We agreed to a plan that would have me work five years, take five to six years off to have two children, then go back to work. We had our act together, the key word being together.

Daryl and I truly enjoy being with each other. That puppy love has never worn off. On the surface, we appeared to everybody around us to be a very sweet, very nice conservative couple. In fact, the best term to describe us would be “torrid.” Even though Daryl was not particularly endowed and he wasn’t the most accomplished lover I had ever had, we were constantly at each other sexually and knew no bounds. What I wore at home and under my clothes in public, including school, was extremely provocative. Even though we watched our daily cost of living closely, there was no limit on spending for my attire. He would buy me some things that were so tantalizing and exposing that we would have to drive into Dallas for me to wear them at some of the clubs in order not to be seen by those who knew us. Even in the larger town, we happily drew attention.

But we always saved the best for our trips. Twice a year we would either go to one of the islands or to Cancun. When we were there, all wraps came off. I dressed in practically nothing, much to his delight, but afterwards had to be very careful not to undress in front of people at home. My bare skin would show obvious tan marks of me being on the beach in a very skimpy thong and a top with nothing more than my nipples covered, if that. Even though it took me a while to adjust to it, he loved for me to go topless on the beaches. I could never get into the tanning booth scene, so my tan was natural and very publicly obtained. He also wore a thong, but it didn’t seem to bother him for the other guys to know.

We weren’t prudes, either. Even though we had to be very careful about what we did because of my job, we were not above being mutually aroused outside of our own actions. We both were aware or the attention we each got from the opposite sex and not only did not mind, but at times went out of our way to exploit it for each other’s entertainment. We loved watching adult films together, but he had to rent them from out of town where we were not known. They gave me a case of “antsy pants” when I was watching them and I just gushed orgasms after we were through.

The most outrageous thing we ever did together happened one weekend when he had to go to El Paso. It was a four-day weekend for me so I made the long drive out there with him in his big company pick-up truck just for the ride and to get us out of town. His business was over Saturday afternoon and we were to drive back Sunday. All day I could tell he was just brimming over with some scheme that he was hiding from me. That night we went across the border to Juarez. Once there, we took a taxi and Daryl handed him an address. The driver looked at the two of us, shrugged, and drove on.

When we arrived there, the driver opened the door, hesitated, and said, “Sir, are you sure? I can take you to some much nicer clubs that are less expensive.”

Daryl assured him this was where we wanted to be, and I was more and more apprehensive about all of it. Just being on the wrong side of the border frightened me.

“What’s in here?”

“I heard about this place today from some guys who work around here. They say it’s a little expensive, but well worth it.”

I didn’t press any further, but I think the cover charge caught Daryl by surprise. Fifty dollars apiece was a lot for us. Then it was me caught by surprise. Even though it looked small and indistinct from the outside, the inside was very dark and very plush. It was mostly couples, all sitting quietly and speaking among themselves. A stage became lighted, music started, and this small town country girl sat open mouthed and spell bound as we sat through a two-hour sex show!! Men on women, women on men, multiple players on each other doing unspeakable things. At one point shortly after the show started, I leaned over and whispered, “I’ll never forgive you for this.”

In reality, thirty minutes into it I was dripping wet and squirming on my seat like a kid in church. Thank goodness the darkness covered my red face and short breathing. And just as I had thought we had seen it all, it ended with a thirty-minute lesbian show involving two absolutely gorgeous women. I was looking for any way to explain to myself why it was such a huge turn-on for me.

Finally, it was over. When we got in the taxi to go back Daryl leaned over and whispered, “How did you like it?”

“It was disgusting. I can’t believe you took me to a place like that.”

Without warning, he reached under my dress and under my panties. I turned my head because, much to my chagrin, I knew his hand was met with a sloppy, wet pussy.

“Ri-i-i-i-g-g-h-h-t,” he said. He quietly brought me off with his fingers right there in the taxi, then we went back to our hotel and screwed with abandon all night, not taking into account the long drive ahead of us the next day. On the trip back across that barren wasteland, we switched drivers often. Not so much out of driving relief, but whoever was driving had the other’s head buried in their lap, cock and pussy being licked every hour or so to the point that we had to wait for each other to desensitize before we could do it again. It was heaven!

In short, for four years we were very busy and extremely happy. Everything was happening to us as if taken from a script. I was teaching English and drama and was responsible for all student productions. It was very time consuming but we were able to handle everything and always find time for ourselves. But, I’m not saying everything was perfect. There was a disappointment for me in our marriage that I’m sure most people would think was minor. It had to do with Daryl going down on me. It wasn’t that it wasn’t sweet or that I didn’t enjoy it when he would, without fail, bring me to orgasm. It’s just that with him it was like it was a race, seeing how fast and hard he could make me come. I secretly longed for those days when I had a head between my legs with a tongue and mouth teasing me for an hour at a time, refusing to let me come until I begged for mercy.

Many nights and mornings when he was gone I would lie leisurely in bed or on the couch with my clothes off, my hand between my legs for hours as I reminisced about those past pleasures. I don’t want to say I was consumed with it, but it was definitely a factor in my life. However, it was a weakness and maybe because of that inner weakness, I did fall prey to my only indiscretion rather early in our marriage.

If Daryl had ever had any action outside of our marriage, I was totally unaware of it and have never had a reason to doubt. But in fact he was gone quite often and it sometimes involved longer trips to Louisiana, Oklahoma, West Texas and one time, Colorado. It was during one of these trips that on the spur of the moment I decided to take a school sponsored trip with the other drama teachers in the district to Houston for a seminar put on by a group out of New York doing some off-Broadway work. My main interest had to do with settings and props. The idea was to watch the play one night in the audience, then have an all day class in the area of your interest the next day.

My class only had four people in it and was taught by the stage production manager. During his introduction and through the conversations of the day, we found that in addition to being handsome in a rough sort of way, he was married, had two children, and spent a lot of time away from New York. He chose to give us the class right on the set and all of us were thrilled with the idea. The set was, of course, much more grand than anything any of us had ever done. By the end of the day most of the other’s interest was starting to wane and their thoughts and conversations turned to what they were going to do that night in the big city. As for me, I was still totally enthralled with the theatre happenings. Lynn recognized that and quietly asked me if I would be interested in being behind the scenes that night during the performance. I jumped at the chance and he gave me a pass to get back stage and very detailed instructions concerning show times, etc.

“As much as I would love to have you visit, the show slows for no one. And, by the way, wear something comfortable. If you’re going to keep up with me you will be on your feet a lot.” I got the idea that my visit was great as long as it didn’t interfere.

I arrived that night in a gush of excitement wearing a short, lightweight comfortable dress and shoes with almost no heel. Lynn was professional from the start but still found time to introduce me to the other technicians around him and let them explain what they were doing. I was particularly interested in set design, but Lynn said that was done away from the set and he personally did most of it. One of the things he did do for me was to get me inside the female dressing room during one of the musical’s costume changes. I stood silently to one side and was amazed at not only what was going on, but also the vast array of perfect bodies. The girls were of different sizes, but they all had that one thing in common; their bodies were immaculate. Once I went back out and found Lynn, I made a comment that after being in there I felt like a fat cow.

He looked me carefully up and down and said, “You’re anything but a cow,” in a very appreciative tone. Like a little girl, I felt it go straight through me and make a little ping right in my pussy. I didn’t have much time to think about it, though, because he stuck a little sandwich in my mouth and pressed a glass of wine in my hand. I was amazed at the amount of wine flowing behind those scenes. By the time the show was over I had, in a bad decision, consumed three or four glasses.

Lynn offered to take me out to eat after the play and I eagerly accepted. Turning all the last minute details of the night over to his assistant, we went out to a small diner. All we spoke of during the meal was about productions and he was trying to explain what detailed plans looked like. Finally, he quit trying.

“I have the plans for this play in my room. Just come on up and one glance will tell you how detailed it has to be. I can’t describe it, otherwise.”

In a wine-dimmed decision, I agreed to go and found myself in a hotel room surrounded by books of detailed drawings and instructions that both dazed and excited me. With still another glass of wine in my hand, I pored through them on the couch and again when he had them spread all over the bed. It was a full hour later when I realized his hand was under my dress.

Through all the maneuvering and repositioning to look at the drawings, I had somehow ended on the edge of the bed, kneeling on the floor as I looked at some larger drawings. I have no idea when he did it or how long he had been there, but all at once I was aware of the hand softly massaging the inside of my thigh. With no conscious thought, I knew that my pelvis was slowly moving back and forth in response to his touch. Instead of pulling away immediately or pushing his hand away, I hesitated in the drowsy stupor that I was in. At that critical moment, he became aware that I knew of his hand and that I was making no immediate effort to remove it. To him, I’m sure that was the same as approval.

He slid his hand on up my leg, slipping a large finger past my thong and into me in one quick, smooth movement. He didn’t stop to rub my lips or tease my clit, but rather deftly entered me up to the full length of his finger without even so much as a hesitation. I don’t know what was the greatest sensation, the overall surprise of his sudden intrusion or the pure pleasure provided by the digits rapidly entering me. Either way, I moaned and bucked forward against his hand. My head dropped down to my hands, which were spread on the bed.

Taking my reaction as acceptance, he began a steady, slow plunging action with the finger. I looked to one side and then the other to see where he was, but he was behind me and in complete control.

“Please, Lynn, I need to go.” I had enough wits about me to know that I was in over my head in a place I wasn’t supposed to be.

“Soon.” I felt him pull the hem of my dress up with his other hand, exposing my bronzed ass to him with the string of my thong coming up out of my ass as the only protection. We had just come back from Cancun two weeks before and I was deeply tanned from the week of sun.

“Nice tan. This didn’t come from a tanning booth!” His lips touched to my ass, moving slowly the white lines made by the skimpy thong I had worn on the beach. Finally, with a moan and a swoosh of air escaping my mouth; he removed his finger from me. Thinking I was getting a reprieve, I let out a sigh and dropped my head on the bed. My ass lurched forward with the sudden departure and, even though I was relieved it was over, I admitted the finger had had been much more than just arousing.

He pulled me to my feet and with a red face and a hanging head, I started to smooth out my dress, thinking I was about to leave. Meanwhile, he casually reached over and with a sweep of his arm cleared off the edge of the bed. He turned me around to face him and without a word, put both hands under my dress and with a quick jerk, my thong was down below my knees. I threw my hands out in surprise to protect myself.

“No, Lynn! Don’t!” It certainly wasn’t what I was expecting. His answer was to push me back against the bed where my knees hit and buckled, sending me sprawling on my back.

My skirt flew up high on my hips, my legs opened, and he moved swiftly on me, pulling my thong down and off as if I were assisting. Maybe in order to preempt my intention to clasp my legs shut, he dropped down immediately in between them so that when I did I was simply clasping his body between my open legs.

“You look wonderful!” Not needing his hands to keep my legs parted, he had shoved my dress up above my waist and was looking straight into my exposed crotch. I turned my head and cringed under his gaze. I knew what he was seeing and admiring. He was looking at a deep tan interrupted by only by a small patch of white where the little bit of cloth had protected me. But, right in the middle of that pale skin was a tiny, ridiculous patch of my dark pubic hair, shaved down to the point that there was only a tiny puff of it sitting just above where my slit reached my mound. It had been carefully trimmed to not ruin the effect of that white thong bathing suit I wore. It would take months for it to return to the thick, dark bush that was natural for me.

I didn’t answer. I knew he wasn’t looking for one, nor did he need any further invitation. Looking up at me, he very, very slowly put his hands under my knees and lifted then up. When he had them positioned where he wanted them, I was spread wide open with my knees spread to each side of my body. Looking between my open legs into my eyes, he slowly lowered his head. I lurched at the initial touch of his tongue sliding between my pussy lips.