Better Licking through Chemistry

When my old college boy friend, Rod (yeah, that's really his name), came into the store, it presented me with a terrific opportunity-one I decided to exploit. I ran into him a few days later and made a date with him for the next Friday night. ("Ran into" may not be the right words for an encounter that I hadn't left to chance.) When I told Chris about the plans, I modifed it so that the whole idea was Rod's. It was to be, of course, an innocent get together to talk about what we had been doing for the last five years, since we'd lost touch with each other. I reassured Chris that Rod was married and all he wants to do with me is talk. I tried to leave a little hint in my voice that I wouldn't mind if Rod wanted to do a little more.

Friday morning, I casually mentioned that when Rod called me on Thursday to tell me the restaurant to meet him at, he mentioned that he had been separated from his wife for months now and they were in the process of getting a divorce. I told Chris that I had no idea that Rod was separated, but I felt funny backing out of the date (and I called it a date). When Chris asked me, just as was going out the door, what made Rod and his wife split, I told him that I understood Rod is quite a playboy and has trouble keeping his zipper up around beautiful women. I let that sink in and then told him not to worry-I'm a married woman. I didn't say "happily" and Chris knew I wasn't satisfied.

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I get home well before Chris and do the whole nine yards getting ready. I shower and shave my legs all the way up, including trimming my pubic hairs to a small triangle above my slit. I do my hair up in a kind of casual bun that Chris thinks is sexy. Then, I dress in the clothes Chris picks out when he wants me to look my sexiest: a black skirt and a purple silk blouse. The skirt is just above knee length, but it has a healthy slit up the left leg that shows the bottom of the print on my thigh-high stockings. I undo the blouse buttons until I can see that the blouse falls open pretty wide when I lean forward.

Chris gets home as I'm finishing dressing and putzes around down stairs for a while. He's in the living room watching the news as I come down the stairs. I enjoy his reaction: a double-take followed by a poignant gaze. I could almost feel his heart pounding from across the room.

"Are you going out looking like that?" he asks accusatorily.

"What's wrong with this?" I ask innocently but with an overtone of defensiveness. "These are fine for the restaurant."

"You look cheap," he says, with bitterness in his voice.

"You never thought that when I wore this outfit before."

"You're going out with another man!" Finally, we get to the nub of it.

"Oh, don't get weird. Rod's an old friend." I know he isn't going to let this one go. I don't want him to.

"A bit more than a friend, I'd say."

"That was years ago."

His worries aren't assuaged, or course. I don't want them to be. But he doesn't know what to say so he just sits there looking awkward.

"Don't worry. I won't be late," I tell him, knowing even now it is a lie.

Rod is more than attentive at dinner and it is clear that, though I had set the ball in motion, he will take the initiative. I like that. I haven't been courted-seduced-in years. I plan to be as coy as will be believable in a woman of my age who is dressed like this to go on a date she arranged. I'm guessing Rod might like the game, too, especially knowing that he will certainly score in the end.

We laugh through dinner and I pull the appropriate tricks: a casual touch of his hand while we joke-a touch that lingers ambiguously long; a little seductive play with the finger-food appetizers; and, the tiny motions with my lips as I gaze into his eyes with a "you're so terrific, Rod" look (which I don't have to feign, actually). Perhaps I go a bit over the top when I cross my legs and dangle, then drop, my shoe. It makes a quiet clunk on the floor-but not loud enough that I'm certain Rod hears it. I'm sure, though, that he feels my foot start at his ankle and work up his leg, under his trousers.

So, he's not really risking a bruised ego when he asks me if I want to go over to his place for a drink. I decline, of course. I promised Chris I would be home early and ...oh, gosh!...it's already 10:30. He insists, of course, and tells me it can be a short drink and it's almost on the way home for me.

As we walk to the cars, his arm is around me and I do my best to sort of melt into his body. As it turns out, his car is right next to mine and we wind up standing between the two cars, kissing and groping like we did in high school. He's feeling my ass and, after holding back for a while, I slip my hand down between us to feel his crotch. His pants are kind of loose and I feel his cock-not hard yet, but solid. It reminds me how big he is and I feel a tingling in my loins and a gush in my crotch.

I open my mouth to him as I stroke his cock gently. He is kneading my ass (and, I suppose, needing my ass, too) and his cock is hardening. When he's completely hard and his cock is pressing up against the bottom of his belt, I push back from him gently.

"Yes...yes...I guess I will follow you to your place for a drink."

The time apart driving to his place allows me to recover a bit of my veneer of virture. He's had plenty of encouragement. Now, he can play the caveman.

I start with the "I don't know what I'm doing here...I really should go home...I'm a married woman" routine. He realizes that ground has been lost on the drive home and retrenches to suggest that I just have a quick drink and he'll show me around. I relent and we both have Kahluas. He has a nice place and a fantastic stereo he turns on for me. It's no coincidence, of course, that the CD that's set to play is the Roberta Flak album we used to listen to when we made love years ago.

He wraps his arm around me and sweeps me up in dance. I melt into his arms like I did years ago but, when he tries to kiss me again, I pull away. He backs off and we just dance for a while. I can feel that the playing hard to get isn't cooling him off. His cock is bulging into my abdomen. I try to move my hips in such a way as to stimulate him without making it obvious that's what I'm doing.

"Killing me Softly with His Kiss" is just ending and he takes the opportunity to try to kiss me again. I let him this time. But I only allow a sweet kiss-no tongue yet. There'd be time enough for that later.

He begins kissing my neck, something he knows used to drive me crazy. It still does, and I let it have full rein, but don't do anything aggressive myself for a few moments. Then, as if I've forgotten myself-lost in memory and passion, I put my hand back to his cock and I begin stroking him through his pants. Just the same as years ago, he is hard almost right away and, as I trace the extension of his cock, I kind of shiver and say, "Magnificent!"

He's a little startled and jokes that's it's pretty much the same as it's always been when I'm around.

"Well, then, it's still magnificent." Let him wonder for a while at my fascination with his hard cock. He would know the reason for it soon enough.

I continue to stroke him almost roughly-showing a desire that he is supposed to think overcomes my better judgment. The passion is real-I have to fake the "better judgment." Feeling my need to feel him, he unzips his pants, being careful not to stop kissing my neck. (He doesn't want me to have a cool moment now.) I reach in hungrily and am surprised by how much pleasure I feel as I stroke his hot, smooth cock in my small hand.

"It's been a long time," I say breathlessly.

"Yeah," he says, thinking he knows what I mean.

"No...that's not what I ..." I cut myself off. Keep him wondering for now.

It's all I can do now to keep from falling to my knees and taking his beautiful cock in my mouth. I want him so much. But, even more, I want the seduction to continue for now.

I tip my face up to his and kiss him deeply, openly. He sweeps me off my feet, literally, and whisks me into the bedroom where he sets me gently, lovingly on his big bed. As he stands up, I see his cock sticking out proudly, anxiously.

I sort of writhe on the bed suggestively (though I'm pretty sure that if I read the phone book right now, Rod would find it suggestive). He kicks off his shoes, tears off his shirt and lies down on top of me for a second. I love the weight of him on me and the passion I can feel in him. He doesn't realize that he doesn't have to keep me revved up, so he begins kissing me on the neck again. That's fine with me.

When he rolls off to my side, he begins unbuttoning my blouse. I don't help him, but I don't stop him either. He finds immediately that my bra is a front clasp style and almost as quickly has it unhooked. When he touches my breast-when he wraps his huge warm hand around it-I do feel like I'm a school girl being undressed for the first time. It's thrilling.

He unzips my skirt and pushes it down. Now I'm just in my panties and they are so sheer and wet with my juices that I feel naked. His hand brushes against my crotch as he moves to take off my panties and I feel a surge of electricity through my body. When he gets my panties off, he teases me by dragging his fingers up the insides of my thighs but just missing my throbbing clitoris. I shudder with pleasure and frustration.

Then, Rod moves down till his lips are millimeters from my trembling twat. I can feel his breath on my wet clitoris. Suddenly, I'm quivering from the pleasure of his tongue flicking over my clitoris. Thank God, I think, that oral sex that way is Rod's thing. I get a wonderful licking and have an enormous orgasm-one I suspect could be heard a block away-before Rod enters me. And, then, he is so skilled in working from a gentle rhythm while I'm still recovering from my orgasm to a wild thrusting as he's building to his own, that by the time he comes, I'm coming too.

We lie in the secure bubble of post-coital bliss for a long time.

I sigh and say, "Oh, God, that felt good." He gives some sound of agreement and I continue, "You don't know how long it's been." Still not understanding, he says that's it's been just as long for him.

Then the whole story of Chris's affliction comes out. I tell Rod how long it's been since I've been fucked or felt a cock harden in my hand. He asks questions with a concern that is intended to hide his glee. It doesn't. I guess he figures he hit a gold mine. And he's right.

I tell him about some of the things we've tried to help Chris. All the time, he's stroking my body in a way that traces the border between compassion and passion. He suggests that I try waking Chris up with a blow job. This should work, if anything will, Rod thinks. As I explain to him that we've tried every conceivable type of blow job, I feel his cock start to stir against my hip. I suspect he brought this up only to get me talking about giving blow jobs.

I'm sure he would like to steer things in that direction-which is to say, I'm sure he is a man. But I'll let him worry about whether things are going that direction for a few minutes. (I don't want him to think I'm easy.)

"Anyway, that's why it felt so especially good to feel your cock harden in my hand-to feel you inside of me, thrusting and filling me up." And I snuggle against him in a way that could foreshadow innocent cuddling.

He starts fondling me more aggressively now and he turns my face up to his to kiss me deeply. I feel his tongue thrust between my lips proprietarily. I suck his tongue and moan gently before beginning to move down his body to give him what he is asking for. I'll let him think this was his idea.

As my lips reach his waistline, I grab his cock in one hand and find that it is hard again-not just sort of firm, but really hard. I like this guy. He makes me feel very powerful.

I wait with my lips just millimeters from his straining cock. I'm breathing warmly on his cock and he can feel how close I am. He wants me closer and arches his back to thrust his cock to my lips. But I stay just out of reach for a second, stroking his hard cock gently to encourage him at the same time.

Finally I take him into my mouth. He is covered with our drying juices, but I don't mind. I didn't do this with Chris. I never liked tasting myself on his cock. But this is different. Tonight is all about cock worship and it isn't all show for Rod's sake. I realize that making Chris impotent has taken a toll on me. I want Rod's cock in my mouth. I want to feel its hardness, its size, its heat, its need.

For several minutes I suck him and lick him while I fondle his balls and stroke his cock. His hands are on my head, encouraging me and I hear him give a satisfying moan as he feels my mouth and tongue making love to his cock. I'm not really trying to work him toward an orgasm now. I just want him really hard for a second round of fucking-something it is clear he is quite capable of.

"You know what I really want?" I ask between sucks. I'm pretty sure he was focused more on what he wanted, and that what he wanted was for this to go on without there being any between sucks. But Rod's a nice guy and he asks me what I really want.

"All this time Chris has been having trouble, I've been fantasizing about being on my hands and knees and being fucked really hard like a bitch in heat." I pause for the image to sink in and then ask, innocently, "Can we do that?" As if that's a real question!

But it is a real desire of mine and one that I'm going to have satisfied soon. Rod pulls me up to my hands and knees at the edge of the bed. He stands behind me by the bed and grabs my hips. Rod's hands hold me tightly as he thrusts into me. After a few minutes of simple thrusting, he begins to pull his cock completely out of me on every back stroke, sometimes pausing for a second of anticipation, then he plunges into me so fast and deep that it takes my breath away. I am completely lost in the moment of animalistic coupling. God, it feels great to just be fucked really hard by a really hard cock.

When we finish, he collapses on top of me, still inside of me. I love the weight of him on me and the rhythm of his breathing. His cock, quickly softening, is still pulsing in my cunt and I think about how full of his cum I must be. I am very satisfied and would love to just fall asleep in his bed and wake up in his arms and do it all again.

But I have to get home. I see by the alarm clock that it's after 1:30. This is certainly late enough to provoke in Chris all the images and fears I want to provoke in him. And, though I know he will be trying to stay up for me, I'm afraid that if he is drinking-a definite possibility-he might pass out before I get home.

I make my apologies and, reluctantly, get up out of our warm bed to get dressed. Rod gets up and pulls his pants on, too. I guess he is planning to see me to the door. But I have a better idea. I ask him to drive me home. I make no excuses about being drunk. We'd only had one drink since we got to his apartment. I just want don't want to be alone yet.

There is almost complete silence on the way to my house. But it is a completely comfortable silence. I hold his hand for a while and then reach over to feel his cock. He hadn't put on underpants, so I could get a nice feel through his trousers. As I stroke him gently, he begins to stir. He's not hard, exactly, but he's reacting.

We pull up in front of my house and I see from the light trickling around the curtain that Chris has the TV on. Probably he's still awake. Without putting Chris out of my mind, I turn to Rod. He has shut off the engine and turned slightly toward me. He looks great and, not coincidentally, he looks like he thinks I look great.

I pat his cock and tell him that I seem to have created a problem here.

"I wouldn't want to send you home horny. Don't you guys get blueballs or something if a girl gets you all hot and doesn't take care of you?" He knows I'm joking, of course. I kind of like the reminder of high school. This does feel like he is returning me from a date.

"I don't know," he plays along. "I haven't had anyone get me this hot for a very long time."

"So some girl got you this hot before?"

"Yeah. One did," referring, sweetly, to me.

"And did she leave you hot and bothered?"

"No."

"Well, what if you were in a car, like this. What if there was no bed around? What would she do to take care of you?"

It's nice to hear him talk about the way we ended many of our dates.

"She'd unzip my pants and take out my cock with her soft, delicate hands."

No sooner said than done.

"Then, she'd stroke me and kiss me."

Again, I follow the script.

"Then, she'd take my cock in her beautiful mouth and suck me until I exploded in her mouth."

I'm on his cock in a flash, and now he is hard again. God, this guy's good! I don't tease him now. Now, I'm working his cock hard with my lips, my tongue and my hand. I don't care that he's already had two orgasms tonight, I'm determined to have him spewing in minutes. He's encouraging me with strings of "Oh, migods!" and lots of nonverbal cues. I can feel his thighs tighten as he strains to shoot another load. Suddenly, with my hand tight around the base of his cock, I feel his cum shoot up his cock into my mouth. It spurts strongly into the back of my mouth and I swallow the first spurt as it spurts again. His third shot clears him out and his cock is so sensitive that he actually stops me from working his cock as it softens. I just gently hold it in my mouth and swallow. After a few seconds, I ask him if that took care of the problem. He said it did.

I gently placed his cock back in his pants and zipped him up before giving him a peck on the cheek and reminding him that I'd call him tomorrow (meaning, of course, later today) about getting my car.

Then I leave and he watches me as I walk slowly up to the door, my heels in my hands and my hips swaying happily. I hear his car drive off as I close the door.

The house is silent and, down the hall, I see there is no light in the bedroom. Excellent! Chris had been watching TV. He must have heard Rod's car coming and turned it off. Maybe he watched through the window-not that he could see exactly what was happening at that distance and with the car windows fogged as they were, but he would know that Rod drove me home and that I didn't just jump out of the car. Chris knew how long I'd been out there and he knew it wasn't talking about old times.

He'd turned off the TV and was, I suspected, pretending to be asleep. I tiptoe down the hall and slip off my clothes for the second time tonight. I crawl straight into bed-not washing up or even brushing my teeth. I want Chris to smell Rod on me.

Chris is lying silently-in two senses, really. I know he is awake, but he gives no sign. Maybe he doesn't know how to react. Frankly, I don't know what to expect from him, either. I've planned for lots of reactions. If he asks questions, I'll just put him off with the excuse of being too tired to talk now. If he is aggressive, challenging me about being late, I'll still use the "too tired" line, but it will be with an edge that says "don't get ballsy with me you impotent wimp."

But, in fact, he says nothing. He rolls over against me, still maintaining the ambiguity about his state of wakefulness. Before long, he begins to caress me. He can feel that I'm still clammy from sweating. His hand moves to my crotch and I push him away. He caresses me more and then moves his hand to my crotch again. This time, I let him touch me.

My pubic hair is crusty with dried semen and my own fluids and the lips of my cunt are swollen and slick with juices. He confirms at once that I've been well fucked. I'm sure he is churning with emotions. He's just been openly cuckolded by my old lover. I'm obviously well satisfied in a way Chris can't satisfy me anymore. He doesn't know exactly how to respond.