tagMatureCrossing the Line

Crossing the Line

byKapricorn71©

My wife is a very sexy woman. She also is very exciting in bed. Fireworks don't shoot off every time, but I was certainly not looking to leave her so I could be with other women. Especially not younger girls, and certainly not members of her sorority.

I'm 54 years old. I'm still in pretty good shape, and my hair isn't totally gray, but the fact is I'm 54 years old. My wife is 53, and again I'll say she is very sexy. She's getting some gray too, in just the right place. She let her hair turn silver, and it throws people off because there is not one wrinkle on her face. As a bonus for me, at the same time the hair on her head turned silver, so did the hair on her pussy. She didn't believe I found her gray pubic hair sexier than her having no hair at all. But that's another story.

My wife is a 35-year member of a national sorority. I will not say which one, and will try my best to give no indication. Not only do I not want to slight the four other Black sororities, but I don't want to cast any aspersions on hers. My wife, I'll call her Cynthia, has a lot of respect in her sorority. For the last seven years she has been the advisor for a small undergraduate chapter her alumni chapter oversees, and year after year the girls seemed to get sexier and sexier. A couple of times a year she would drag me out to an event for the undergraduate chapter, or have her sorors over to hang out and bond.

As big of a pain as it was for me to go to a college event, having a bunch of sexy young girls inundate my home just as bad. They would come in smelling good, and looking good. They didn't overexpose their bodies, but parts would show. It was their arms, their bellybuttons, their neck, chest, and feet that would get to me. I kept myself in check in their presence most times, but flashes of their faces and bodies flew through my head on more than one occasion – particularly while making love to my wife. There were even times when Cynthia wasn't around that images would flood my mind. At those times, some serious masturbation took place.

I felt dirty afterwards, always. A 54-year-old, married, professional man getting aroused to the point of masturbation over girls more than 30 years younger than me like I was still some adolescent who couldn't control his hormones. I'd bought a fleshlight, and I'd use it or my hand while I imagined all those young bodies. I felt stupid with my dick in a tube, but it did feel good.

There was such an erotic variety of sizes and shades: from tall to short, light to dark, slim to thick. There were even three girls of non-Black nationalities: one was Asian, and two were Latina. Facially they weren't all drop-dead gorgeous, but they all were good looking in their own way. Their personalities were just as diverse, but they all had sex appeal.

At the campus parties Cynthia would drag me along to chaperone, I'd stand back and admire the way they party-hopped. Most of them would already be dressed to attract the boys at the party. When they started gyrating and undulating their bodies in unison to the music, it would take everything I had not to slip off to the bathroom. I thought of even bringing along my fleshlight, but getting caught with my dick in a tube would have been a major scandal for Cynthia.

What would really drive me crazy at these parties is when the girls would come over to talk to Cynthia and want to give me a hug. They respected me as their advisor's husband, and in that respect I was somewhat of a father figure. I'd have conversations with them about school, and careers, but nothing ever sexual. Plus they were an intelligent bunch of girls. There were a couple of Poly-Sci majors who I would debate law or current events with; they really knew their stuff. I'd try to think pure thoughts about the girls, but having their sweaty body pressed to me made that hard. I made sure they didn't feel what else they made hard.

I talked to a coworker of mine, and he said he was envious of me. He knew the age difference and all the possible fallout from crossing the line – divorce, and public embarrassment, were just the obvious consequences. I started going with him to his favorite gentleman's club now and then. I'd patronize the younger girls, and my fantasies were placated. What I would enjoy most is when I pay one to just sit on my lap naked. She'd play along with my conversation, make me feel important as she was suppose to do, and get up with about $50.

I couldn't touch, and that was the frustrating part. Of course I'd graze, and cop a feel, but I couldn't caress, and squeeze, and suck. Least of all, I couldn't lay the dancer back, spread her legs, and give her the best head I knew how. The closest I could get was in the VIP room, where one would put her pussy in my face. I didn't dare lick though. These women were sexy and friendly, but who knew if they were clean? I would have no easy explanation as to how I got herpes on my lips.

So the strip club placation went on for a while. I wouldn't tell my wife where Alvin and I had been, but she would love the oral sex she received when I got home. My wife has a great pussy. As I said, she doesn't believe that I find her gray pubic hair erotic, so she keeps trimming it off. But those times she forgets or is too busy to trim it, I'd have her climbing the walls from my tongue.

My favorite position was when she would kneel over my face. I could suck her clit, and feel her juice drip from her lips the closer to orgasm I brought her. When she reached that point, she grind on my face, and I'd drink down all the juice and cream I could before laying her back and pounding my dick in her. Sometimes she would suck my dick, sometimes we'd go right to intercourse, but my favorite encounters with my wife began or ended with my mouth on her pussy.

My guard around the girls began to slip. I found myself flirting with them. Discreetly at first. They seemed to like it. I'd compliment them, not just on their clothes but also on their figure. I'd get huge smiles, touches, more hugs, and some would flirt back. There was an annual formal dinner and dance for Black graduates of their school. It was in a midsize banquet hall of a hotel, and I was blown away as usual at seeing these girls dressed to the nines.

In my increasingly flirtation mode, I laid on the compliments. I hugged the girls a little tighter, held on a little longer, and didn't so much hide the erection they caused. I didn't do anything overt that would get me in trouble, but a few of the girls noticed, and responded in kind. One of the girls graduating wanted a picture with Cynthia and me. We stood on either side of her. After the picture was snapped, her hand slid down my back and to my ass.

I watched her as she walked away, and she actually looked back at me to wink. I had known this girl since she crossed as a sophomore. She was militant back then, but the sorority had mellowed her over her years. She was still passionate about injustices, but no longer talked about burning places down. I could only imagine her pussy was as fiery as her personality.

The night went on, as did my flirting. At the end of the program, the girls presented Cynthia with a special plaque for her years of dedication to the chapter. When the dean of students closed that portion of the night, he asked that Cynthia and I begin the dance portion. We hadn't opened a dance floor since our wedding. I took note of how romantic the moment was, and focused my attention on Cynthia. I told her I loved her, spun her around, and dipped her with a kiss. There was a roar of applause, before other people came out to dance.

"You must want a good fuck when we get home," she whispered in my ear as we kept dancing.

"I want a good fuck anytime I can get it."

After the song we headed back to the table. Someone swooped Cynthia off to introduce her to some people, and I sat there with my drink to let my mind wander. I noticed some girls huddled and giggling at a table, and thought how fun it would be to be in their midst. Jeanie came by and asked me to dance with her. Jeanie was the one who grazed my butt after the picture. She had on a form fitting black dress, with a plunging neckline. The dress stopped midway down her thigh, and she had on high heels. I took her hand and led her to a spot on the floor. I complimented her on her perfume as we danced, and she beamed.

"Do I get spun and dipped like Soror Cynthia?"

"Naw," I laughed, noticing the alcohol on her breath, "I'm too old to do that too many more times."

She pressed her body tighter, "I'm sure you have a lot of energy left in you"

My erection was inching down my thigh, and I'm sure she noticed. She was a foot shorter than me, so I had to look down to look at her. But my height gave me a straight line shot down her dress. Her cleavage was incredible. "I do have a lot . . . in me. I've learned over the years how to conserve it, so I've have plenty of energy when I need it"

"Soror Cynthia is a very lucky woman," she put her head to my chest.

I made sure to remain stoic outside, while I was going crazy inside. This young girl had me ready to dick her down, not even caring about the can of worms that would open.

"I want to confess something to you," she said, then leaned back to look at me. "Don't get mad."

"No, I won't."

She took a deep breath, "I've had a crush on your for years."

I smiled, "Really?"

"Most of the sorors do."

My smile dropped, "Quit playin'."

"I'm serious. You have no idea of the late night conversations we have about you." She laughed, "We have a running joke about you?"

"What?"

"It's nothing bad."

"I'll be the judge of that."

She looked around then lowered her voice, "Most of us have a favorite position we'd like to be in with you, and we sometimes call each other by it."

Having any one of them girls in any sexual position would be a fantasy come true. I laughed, "Why are you playing with me? You're cruel."

She stopped dancing for a second, "Mr. Thomas you have no idea how serious I am."

I resumed our rhythm, "How long has that been going on?"

"It was going on the year I crossed."

"You girls just sit around and openly fantasize about me?"

"It starts with the usual talk about our boyfriends or guys on campus, but a lot of times it ends up on you. We wish you could teach a manhood class to these boys," she laughed.

"Why are you telling me? Something like that is private to you and your sorority sisters."

"To see that look on your face," she flashed an innocent smile.

"You're drunk."

"Just a buzz. Besides, this is our little secret, right?"

"Well, I'm flattered."

"I can tell," she slid across my dick and looked up at me with the best set of fuck-me eyes I'd seen in years. "Until earlier this you when you started making passes at us, we didn't even think you looked at us in that way."

"What makes you think I've been making passes?"

"Some of us have noticed your smiles, and your tight hugs. You've always been friendly, but you've been real friendly lately."

My gig was up. If I was being that obvious, I could not risk my wife finding out. "Listen, Jeanie-"

"And we like it. We like that you think about us, Mr. Thomas. We love Soror Cynthia to death, and would never hurt her. We can see how in love you are with Soror Cynthia. Truth be told, that's what makes it so erotic. Every woman dreams of having a man so in love with her." She laughed, "You have no idea the reaction you caused with that dip and kiss. A few of us had to visit the bathroom."

Wouldn't that have been something? Me and the very girls I'm lusting over in the bathroom masturbating over each other. "I'm sure each of you will find your Prince Charming."

"Probably not." She got even closer to me, and moved her hands along my arms, "But it's certainly fun to fantasize about having a tall, strong, older, sexy black man like you. And now that I've gotten this close, I have even more detail to add."

When we were shielded from view by other dancers, I gave her ass a squeeze.

She moaned into my chest, "And damn, you smell incredible."

I kept myself from getting lost in the moment and retained my senses of where we were, but she felt so good in my arms. I did decide to play a little, "Suppose I took you up to a room right now."

"Yes," she whispered.

I looked around to see if we attracted any attention, and to give the appearance that we were having a normal dance, "And I slide this dress off your body to suck your nipples."

"I'd like that," she winced.

"And slid my tongue down to your pussy."

"Oh shit, yes," she rubbed herself against my erection.

"I lick it until you cum."

"Yes, yes."

"What do they call you?"

"Doggie."

"I put you on your knees, Doggie, and give you all my dick until you cum again."

She put her face flat on my chest, and trembled for a good minute. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said when she leaned back and saw the makeup stains she left on my shirt.

"It'll come out."

"I've got to go," she turned to leave.

I gently pulled her back, and got a little closer to her ear, "You came didn't you?"

"Um hmm."

"Good. How's about you to go to the bathroom, take off your panties, and bring them to me?"

She turned to me, and I told her to act like I just told her a joke. It took a second to click, but she got a big smile on her face and laughed. "I can't do that."

"I want those panties, Jeanie," I gave her a smile.

"Ok."

I made my way back to the table, not believing what just happened. I gave one of my wife's college sorors an orgasm on the dance floor, and now she was about to bring me her wet panties. How close to the line was I, if I hadn't already crossed it? My drink was watery, so I went over and asked the bartender for a double of the strongest drink he had.

Cynthia met me back at the table, and apologized for being gone so long. Of course I told her not to apologize. We talked about how she was going to miss her seniors. Like she does every year she talks about what made each of them special. When she spoke about Jeanie, all I could do was smile.

I noticed Jeanie looking kind of nervous as she meandered around the room. I caught her attention, and raised my eyebrow. She nodded her head, and I noticed black material poking out of her clinched fist. I asked Cynthia to excuse me and made my way to the hallway in the direction of the bathroom. I waited in a payphone alcove.

Jeanie came a minute or so later, and pushed the panties in my hand as quickly as she could, "Please don't let Soror Cynthia find these."

I tucked them in my chest pocket, "You think I want her to know what happened out there?"

"What are you going to do with them?"

"I just wanted a souvenir," I lied. I was going to smell and lick the hell out of those panties. "I don't know what all you girls will talk about, but this is our secret."

"Thank you."

I gave her a hug, "Your welcome." With her body pressed to me again, I thought how seemingly easy it would be to slip out to the car. In a matter of minutes, I could have Jeanie in the back seat to lick or fuck or both. But there were far too many things that could go wrong with that, so I broke the hug.

I went to the bathroom, and took her panties out for the first sniff. They were thongs, and the crotch was soaked and stained. She had a strong scent, and I took two deep breaths before tucking them back away. On my way back to the dance, I thought to stop off at the kitchen. I asked one of the workers for a sandwich bag. He gave me a nod when he saw what I put in it.

Jeanie was sitting next to Cynthia when I got to back to the room. They were smiling as they talked. I couldn't imagine Cynthia smiling if Jeanie was telling her what happened, so I remained calm. I stopped at the bar for another double, and went to the table. An image of Jeanie in bed with Cynthia and I flashed in my mind, and I tried my best not to have a Cheshire cat grin on my face when I got to them.

"Baby, when you two were dancing, did Jeanie tell you she's going to take a job in Baltimore?"

"Really? We go there a couple of times a year."

"I was just telling her that we'd have to pop in for a visit."

"Certainly. I love the seafood there," I smiled.

Jeanie had a nervous smile on her face, but she didn't crack. "Take care, Soror Cynthia," she hugged her and stood up.

"You be safe over there."

"I will." She turned to me, "Goodbye, Mr. Thomas."

"Call us if you need anything," I hugged her. Jeanie left, and I could swear I smelled her scent in my seat. "That's a great girl."

"A great woman. I'm so proud of her."

I looked at her walking away, speaking to other people, with aroused at the knowledge her ass was bare under her dress.

The night ended with more photos, and hugs from the girls when we got ready to leave. With each one we posed with, I wondered what her position of choice was – even though I wouldn't say that I totally believed Jeanie.

Cynthia and I had a great night when we got home. I had a little more energy than usual, and she was not mad at me.

I made sure to take Jeanie's panties to my office. I tried to, but couldn't resist showing the baggie to Alvin. He about lost his mind. He calmed down, and I let him have a sniff.

"You are a lucky son-of-a-bitch! I would have fucked her."

I shook my head, "There's no way I was going that far."

"A young, hot piece of ass like that? Fuck the dumb shit, I would have been deep in that."

"At the risk of your marriage and reputation?"

"DEEP in that," he tossed the baggie back to me.

"Then it's for your own good that stuff like this doesn't happen to you. Your wife wouldn't stand for it, anymore than mine would."

"That girl wouldn't have said anything."

"You would put that much trust in a 20-year-old girl? Suppose something changes, and she gets mad or just wants more from you than you can give her? You're ass-out."

"It's her word against mine."

"It's not worth it to even go there, and you know it."

He got up to leave. "DEEP," he said on his way out my door.

The baggie didn't keep them fresh for long, but I enjoyed Jeanie's panties for as long as I could. Like I said, I didn't totally believe what she had told me about the other girls, but it was great inspiration. Name by name, I thought about the position I'd like to have each girl of the chapter in. When Cynthia and I got into some of those positions, I couldn't fight back the images. In my head I knew it was mental adultery, but I excused the indiscretions by the strength of the orgasms Cynthia would have.

----

The summer ended, and the chapter hosted the fall icebreaker. I thought long and hard about going, but didn't. Part of me was scared about what Jeanie had told them, and what their reaction would be to me. Part of me was scared I just might try to recreate my dance with her, or do something else stupid in reaction to them. Instead I went to the club with Alvin. I was already charged up from the thoughts of the chapter. Alvin didn't need much to get him charged up. We easily spent $150 each on drinks, lap and stage dances. At any given time we had 4 dancers at our table – talking shit, laughing, drinking.

It was almost three when I got home. I expected to slip in bed beside Cynthia, but she wasn't home. I called to check on her, and she said she was on her way. I took a shower and when I came out, Cynthia was just coming in. I asked her how the party went, and she didn't answer me. She took my towel from me and started drying my body. First she dried my chest, then my back and arms. Then she sat on the bed to dry my waist, thighs and ass. She leaned down to dry my calves and feet, then started sucking my dick on her way back up. I responded immediately.

She squeezed my bare ass, and took me deep in her mouth. I felt my tip reach the back of her throat, and almost lost it. She slid my dick out of her mouth, and grabbed it to lick my nuts. She looked up at me, and asked why I was being so quiet. I started encouraging her, and running my fingers through her hair. My words got dirtier and dirtier, and her sucking got more and more intense.

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byKapricorn71© 3 comments/ 94108 views/ 1 favorites

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