Clyde and Margi

The Main Ingredient started signing Everybody Plays The Fool Sometime. Not bad, I thought, not bad at all. “What else did you choose?”

“Sade – Greatest Hits. Sex for the ears, really good. Haven’t heard her in ages.” He sat down next to me, resting his hand on my thigh. “Want some more wine? I need another beer.” I nodded. I liked his assurance, the way he was comfortable in my house. Actually, he should be – he just fucked me six ways from Sunday! I giggled at this expression, remembering that I heard in the Mel Gibson movie, Payback.

“What’s funny?” He said, settling down next to me. I told him and he laughed as well.

“Listen to me; could I – we – have a shower after this drink? I feel like I need to freshen up.”

“Sure,” I said, “Anytime you want.” I was annoyed. It seemed as if he was preparing to leave already and it was only a quarter to ten. “Hit and run after all, I see.”

He looked at me, a small smile on his face. He didn’t say anything for a full minute, drinking his beer thoughtfully. “Actually, I intend sleeping here tonight, at least until 5:30 or so – is that alright with you?”

“Sleeping over?” I was surprised. I was about to ask how he intended to get away with it – his wife and all that – but I didn’t, remembering that I didn’t want to know anything about his marriage. Anyway, rubbish little things – like Belinda - were already making me jealous and I didn’t need anymore. “Sure, sounds great, yes you may.” I was pleased, really pleased.

“So can I still have that shower later?” I pulled his ear. “Only if I can shower with you.” He leaned over and we kissed, nice kisses, like lovers, slow and deep. I could taste his beer. “So did you tell Margi about tonight?” I asked this deliberately, trying to surprise him.

“Yes,” He said, laughing, “She said to me that she expected it fully, was not surprised that you wanted to be with me only or first.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Really? She expected it? Why?”

“No good reason, really, she thinks every woman I meet immediately undresses for me. I wish. But she thought you found my dick irresistible, said she watched you staring at it.”

“Well, I did- haven’t seen anything like it before. Wow!”

“Glad you like it – how about that shower now?”

In the bathroom, while he undressed, I checked that I had enough towels for both of us.

“Music here too – I really like your layout.”

“Can’t live without music.” He had a nice body and I admired his colouring, a sort of caramel and brown. He wasn’t hairy at all and he was nicely muscled without being muscular. I ran my hands over his torso, liking the smooth feel of him. As I undressed I became self-conscious about my own white skin, feeling more naked than him.

“Before I get in, would you like some more wine? I think I’ll enjoy another beer here.”

“In the shower? I’ haven’t done that before – why not?”

I adjusted the water while he padded out, his dick swinging from side to side. The Main Ingredient sang, harmonised about the Good Old Days. I hummed as I felt the water needles prickle my skin, making me feel alert again. Clyde came back with our drinks, put them on the top of the wall and slid the glass door closed.

“Aimee you are gorgeous!” He was admiring my body. I know I’m not really gorgeous but I liked hearing him say it. My body’s not bad, I don’t have stretch marks from my pregnancy and my extra kilos were evenly distributed so I didn’t look fat. “Can I wash you? With my hands?”

“Hmm, sounds lovely.”

“Here, enjoy your wine while I soap you.” So I stood there, drinking wine in my shower, a stranger called Clyde was lathering his hands with soap. Oh, I like my life, I thought, how I like living, how I like what I’m doing. I closed my eyes, steadying myself with one hand, holding my wine with other.

He was gentle. He spread the lather across my back, over my shoulders and he washed my tits, moving his hands in circular motions, squeezing them gently. I heard him take a swig of his beer but I kept my eyes closed, luxuriating in this rare pleasure. Why did Derek never offer to do this for me?

“Which is your favourite Main Ingredient track?” He asked. I don’t know if this was test, you know, to see if I really knew my stuff, or if he was simply curious. “Of This I’m Sure and Summer Breeze. Yours?” Sorry buddy, but I really did know my stuff.

“Just Don’t Want To Be Lonely. Rolling Down a Mountainside isn’t bad either. But you’re right; Summer Breeze is a real classic. Their version is better than the original by the Isley Brothers.” I made a mental note to check this out – it was new to me. The Isley Brothers? I was sure I had some of their stuff on a compilation CD. He was ‘washing’ my butt now, squeezing my bum cheeks and soaping them. It felt wonderful, so intimate, so sensitive. He used his fingers to soap my butt groove, running his hands up and down, almost touching my pussy, teasing me. I was randy, horny already. He guided me to turn. My eyes were still closed so I couldn’t see him but he must have been squatting because he was soaping my tummy area, again not touching my pussy. His hands slid in between my legs and I parted them, he moved them up and down my thighs smoothly.

I liked his touch, I liked his intuition, the way he knew how to touch me. I couldn’t believe I was horny again, that my clit was twitching for him again. I sipped my wine, wondering if I was falling in love with this man. Spinning Around was playing, so sensual and so romantic. I sang softly with them; I must be falling in love, I must be falling in love.

“And now,” He said, his voice gruff and thick, “now for the coup de grace – lift your leg and put it on the rest, yes, there, that’s it.” I knew he was going to wash my pussy now.

I was right.

He had lathered his hands nicely, the foam feeling rich and thick. Using both his hands he soaped my cunt, slowly spreading the soap around my crotch. He still teased me, though, almost touching my inner lips and moving away again. He applied a little more pressure and I found myself wanting to follow his hands with my hips. I gyrated slowly, seeking his touch, wanting him to put his fingers into me. He parted my lips and gently inserted a finger. It slid in smoothly, the soap mixing with my juice and his come, blending into a slick lubricant. He then inserted another finger, filling me. I groaned and rocked on them. He was holding my bum with one hand, steadying me so that I could move with a little freedom.

“Fuck my fingers, darling, ride them.”

“Yes, I am, keep them there.” I moved on his hand, loving the feel of his slippery hand on my bum. I put my glass down on the shampoo shelf so that I had more control. I felt him lean towards me and he licked my clit. I was building swiftly. We did this for a while longer and then I felt it starting, like a fire, burning rapidly, out of control.

“Angel, I’m going to come now, finger me deeper!” I was past the point of no return, beyond control. I came then, hard and deep. I moaned and he sucked my clit and I pressed into his mouth, hard. I jerked as I rode the spasms, fucking his face, his whole face. He stood up and he kissed me, his fingers still massaging my throbbing clit. I held him tightly, letting my orgasm wash over me. “Oh God, I love what you do to me, I love it so much!”

“And I love doing it to you. Wow, you come so strongly!” He took another swig of beer. “My turn now, turn around bend slightly – I want to fuck you from behind.”

I looked at his cock before I turned and, sure enough, he was hard and rigid, his cock pointing almost straight up. So I did that, turned around and leaning against the shower wall, the water splashing onto my back. With one hand on the small of my back, he guided his big dick in between legs and eased it into my puss. No problem this time, I was lubricated and ready for him. I raised my bum slightly and he sank into me. It was a tight and snug fit. He moaned.

“Oh man, this feels so good – I love how tight you are.” He started fucking me slowly, shoving his cock into me. He didn’t stroke me fast but settled into a nice steady rhythm. He was careful not shove it all the way in because the rear entry allowed him deeper access to my cunt and he was aware of it. The top of his big head was pressing against the top of my cunt and it felt nice, sexy. I started moving in time to his stroke, riding him back.

“Yeah, darling, yeah – rock my cock like that, let me into you.” I loved how deep his voice was, how he let himself go completely.

“Feel good, angel?” I half turned to watch him, to look at his face.

“Oh yes, very good. Your pussy is so hot inside.” He started to quicken his stroke, pulling me back and forth with his hands on my hips. He squeezed my bum cheeks and parted them and I know he looking at my bum hole. I felt the water run down between the groove, streaming past his cock and down my legs.

“Deeper,” I said, “Fuck deeper – put your whole cock in.” I encouraged him to really fuck me, to penetrate me all the way. I like the sense of possession total penetration would give him.

“Yes,” He said, “I want to fuck you so damn deep.” I felt his thumb or finger playing with my bum hole, pressing against it. I hoped he didn’t have any intentions of fucking me in the bum because I didn’t think it would fit. I enjoyed the sensation of having my bum fingered while he fucked me. I let Anton screw me in the arse once, when we were newly married. We had a lot to drink that night. He had a thin dick but it still hurt and I was sore for days afterwards.

Clyde was simply playing with it though, and he slipped his other hand around my front and started playing with my clit. It felt big, like a marble, and he rubbed it in a circular motion. He fucked me in a three-way rhythm; dick sliding in and out, finger in my butt (I could feel that he had slicked it on my cunt juice and had now penetrated my arse with the tip of his finger) and my clit being stimulated.

“Oh, darling, I can’t hold back any longer – I’m going to shoot deep into you now!” With that he shoved hard and deep into me and I felt his finger go a little deeper into my bum. He came, then, his hips slapping hard and fast against my bum and, God help me, but I came again with him, shoving backwards to meet his triumphant cock, loving the feel of his hot come squirting inside me, feeling my bum hole contract around his finger.

We stood like that a while, breathing hard, water spraying on both of us. I leaned back against him and he cupped my tits with both his hands, squeezing them gently. He still felt hard inside me.

“Wonderful, fucking wonderful.” He stepped away and his cock made a little plopping sound as it left. I didn’t want him to leave me just yet, I wanted to hold onto him a while longer. Wistfully I sipped my wine, watching him drink deeply from his beer.

“So,” He said, “What do you think? About us I mean.” I wasn’t sure what he was asking but I knew that I would give the wrong answer, no matter what I said. I didn’t want to tell him that I had these feelings for him, whatever they were, but neither did I want to say that I felt nothing at all. I opted for safety.

“You are one hell of a lover, you know that?”

“My darling, it is you that brings the magic, that makes this special.” He smiled at me, and he sounded sincere.

“You know what? I’ve realised something – you know this old argument about size versus technique? It assumes that guys with small dicks have technique and guys with big dicks have no technique. Now that I’ve had the pleasure of being done by a dick of truly awesome proportions I can honestly say that technique, with a big dick, is a winner!”

He nodded. “Thank you – I take that as a real and genuine compliment. You, though, have the ability to write a brand new version of the Khama Sutra. Wow, you are brilliant. Tell me, what’s your favourite position?”

I laughed. “Well, I always like to be in a position of strength! You know, I like to always know what’s going on. You remember that movie – Wall Street – with Michael Douglas and Charlie Sheen?” He nodded. “Well, in that movie I heard I line haven’t forgotten; You are always negotiating – do you remember it?”

“Not really but I get your drift, I know what you mean and, as I think about, I agree. Are we negotiating now?”

“Of course, always. So, you think I’m great, do you?” He nodded, falling neatly into my little trap. “Better than Margi and Belinda?”

He laughed. “Ouch. Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it? But yes, of course yes, you are much better. Belinda isn’t worth talking about, like I said that was just drinking sex and she gave me the impression she picked guys up at the airport all the time. Margi has her own charms, though, and I like her immensely. And me? Am I better than Derek?”

“Derek who?” He laughed. I loved the way he laughed, naturally and happily. We chatted a while longer in the shower, until the water started cooling off. We got out then, towelling each other off, clowning around in the bathroom. It all seemed so natural, like we’ve known each other a long time.

“You know what? I’m feeling peckish now – can I take you up on your offer?”

‘Great idea – I’m feeling hungry too. How about a homemade hamburger?”

“Perfect! Sounds good. Do you mind if I don’t get dressed and just wore this towel?”

“Mind? No way – of course you can. Want me to do the same?”

“Yep – please do. Its so sexy.”

So we made hamburgers that way, naked beneath our towels. I wore mine the way he did, around the waist, and he occasionally reached out and cupped a breast. He told me jokes, really funny ones, and I laughed while I made our food. He watched me, talking and drinking beer, looking very much at home.

We moved to the lounge to eat, sitting on the floor and I played him a selection of my favourite music. The more we talked the more I found myself liking him, warming to his charm and natural likeableness, if there is such a word, and I enjoyed watching him.

At about midnight, the time having flown by, we went to bed and I wondered if we would make love again. Silly of me, of course, because as soon as we slid between he crisp clean sheets he pulled me towards him. We lay side by side, kissing each languidly. He rubbed my back, entwined his fingers in my hair and whispered to me between kisses. I held him, feeling the heat radiate off his body, feeling the strength of his arms and chest. I pressed closer to him, squashing my tits on his chest so that I could feel his heart beat and I kissed his neck lightly and smelled my soap on him, liking the fact that smelled of me, my home. I had my leg over him and could feel his cock nuzzling my pussy. As I stroked his hair his breathing became regular, deep and I realised that he had fallen asleep, hard cock and all. I smiled to myself, just like a greedy boy, wanting more than he could handle.

I let him sleep and ran my fingers gently through his hair. When I was sure he was asleep I reached over and switched the lamp on so that I could look at him. He was fast asleep, content. I ran my fingers lightly over his face, his nut-brown face and I marvelled at what had happened between myself and him. I wouldn’t admit it to him, not now anyway, but this was best sex I had ever had, eclipsing even the stunning thing with Andrea. It was hard to compare, unfair really, because I wasn’t sure what I was comparing. All I knew is that I felt replete, satiated, happy deep within myself. I fell asleep that way, with the light on, kissing him lightly on the forehead and touching him tenderly.

Oddly enough, he woke me that way, with soft kisses and light touches. I snuggled closer to him as I awoke, the memory of last night flooding back, making me feel all warm and soft inside. We were warm under the blanket and we simply picked up where we left off the night before: kissing and touching. I could feel his cock again, hard and rigid, and slid up and down on it, covering it with my puss juice. I liked the way it felt, filling the space between my legs, rubbing my clit with the shaft.

After a while he pushed me on to my back and mounted me, nudging my legs open with his knees. Looking into my eyes and saying “Morning darling” he slid his dick into me.

I was tender there, in my cunt, almost sore from the battering of last night, but he was gentle, almost as if he sensed he needed to be careful. I opened my legs wider to ease the slight discomfort and it helped. As he stroked me I held him around his shoulders and rubbed his back. “Morning to you, too”, I said softly and started moving in time to his strokes.

We made love that morning, not the urgent and demanding fucking of the night before, but tenderly and gently. I was comfortable beneath him and enjoyed the deep slow ride he gave me, the delicious feel of his cock moving in and out of me. He moved his one hand beneath me, under my bum, and this tightened my cunt even more. He squeezed it hard, cock-fucking me tenderly. I beat him this time and I came before he did. Deep and satisfying spasms gripped my lower abdomen and I heard myself say “Oh my angel, I love you.’ I said this without realising it and he didn’t react. He kissed me though, ardently and started fucking me faster, squeezing my bum harder. With a deep sigh, I lifted my legs and wrapped them around him and let him fuck me at his own pace. He made his thrusting movements deliberate, driving in deep, pausing for a second and withdrawing slowly and then plunging deeply into me again. “I’m coming, angel, I’m coming.” He had thrust into me when he said this and he held it there, deep in me, and came. “Come, my angel, come.” I loved the way it felt, his cock jerking, his come warm inside me.

He lay on top of me for a while and then slid down beside me. Almost immediately, I could feel our love juices dribble out of me, slide down my bum and onto the sheet. So much for putting clean sheets on – I’ll have to change these today. He offered me a cigarette but it was too early for me. He dragged deeply and blew a plume of smoke into the air.

‘Shall I put some music on?’ I asked him, not sure if he found the early morning silence to be oppressive.

“Oh no, leave it off – lets just lay and talk a while before I go.” My heart fell at these words, I didn’t want him to go. “Damn,’ He continued, “I should have brought my overnight bag in last night.”

“Good grief – you brought an overnight bag? How on did you manage to get that out of the house?” I was startled, not caring if I broke my own rule about not knowing about his marriage.

He laughed. “No, it’s not what you think – I’m supposed to be in Cape Town on a business trip. Should have left yesterday evening but I postponed my flight to this morning at 7:30. Down for a day because I fly back at six tonight.”

“Oh, that explains everything….I was wondering. So, did the evening live up to your expectations?”

“Hell no – it far exceeded it. You know, I was not quite sure how you would be – well, with everything. The racial thing a factor for you?” He deserved an honest answer and I tried to give him one.

“Well, I wouldn’t have responded to the ad if it was. I worried about it for a while not quite sure what to think. I’ve wondered about guys of other races from time to time but I have never been in a position to explore it. But when I met you and got to know you a little bit I realised that it didn’t matter at all. Funny country we live in, don’t you think? And you, been with many white woman before?”

He puffed slowly on the cigarette, taking his time to answer.

“I don’t count. Used to but not anymore. A good few.” He turned to me. “Actually, I’m married to one.” He was full of surprises, always one step ahead of me. I had no answer so I simply said “Oh, I see.” And left it at that.

We lay like for a while and I moved closer to him and put my head on his chest. His heart beat steadily, boom, boom, boom. He got up and slipped his pants on to go and fetch his bag.