Homage to Houston

Imagine. A woman trying to bring herself off falls asleep!

Chapter 6

A heavy weight pressed my body to the bed. Something hard and soft at the same time was embedded in my cunt. My groin was pounded into the bed, harder, harder and ever harder.

I was responding with cries of pleasure, grasping onto whatever weight this was that gave such exquisite pleasure.

On and on the pounding went, ever harder, driving me ever deeper into the bed. A voice cried out,

"Come, come, come...."

I so wanted to. I thrust back. We bounced in unison on the bed. The thrusts went on, and on, and on, harder even, faster, faster ...... I began to scream in sheer ecstasy.....

My thighs were opened wide, inviting, urging.....

"Arrrrrrrrggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhh!"

Semen flowed into me, trapped by the penis that continued thrusting, continued pounding me into the bed......

I lay back, eyes closed, my lungs drawing in air, still not fully awake.

When I opened my eyes and looked to the side, Houston was not there. He reappeared a few moments later, fully dressed, struggling with his tie.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I have to go. Seven o'clock breakfast meeting. I'll make it up to you tonight. Ok? ... OhGod. You are so gorgeous."

My thighs were still spread. Houston's semen drooled out of my vagina onto the sheet.

"OK?" he repeated.

I suppose I must have nodded.

"I really have to go."

"I understand," I muttered. Junior ranks. Dance to the whip.

"I get off early tonight. 7pm. Will you be here?"

I suppose I must have nodded.

"Your room, or in the bar?"

I did not answer, just looked up at him with what I believe are referred to as 'bedroom eyes'. Who was this? I did not do morning sex. Herman knew that. Houston did not. He had taken me before I was awake and my body had responded to the pounding of groin on groin, the thrusts of a fully alert penis penetrating me, growing ever larger as his orgasm approached.

Almost, he had brought me to orgasm. Almost.

"I really have to go," Houston said, again with that hint of ma'am in his tone.

"You will be here tonight. Please say yes. I promise I'll make it up to you. I really want you so much; to please you."

Make what up to me? His baby-face expressed better than any words the agony of parting. The sight of a naked woman, her breasts glowing, her legs spayed wide, semen seeping from a wide open vagina screaming for more, lost the contest with 'the whip'.

I suppose I must have nodded.

"'Til tonight, then."

He consulted his wristwatch.

"I really have to go."

"Then go," I said, firmly, but not unkindly. He was really a very nice young man.

"Ok. 'Til tonight." He blew me a kiss.

I heard the door close on his back.

For a long while I lay where I was, as I was. A hand strayed and fondled my clit, massaged gently the folds of a vagina that, though wide open, seemed to have lost interest in further stimulation.

Blearily, I struggled to a sitting position and staggered to the bathroom, where I brushed my teeth. Don't ask me why. It's an automatic reaction to the morning that held sway even as semen was still drooling out of me, dripping down my inner thighs. First things first.

Leaving the shower, I toweled myself thoroughly. I looked at myself in the mirror. My face was a mess. I had to do something about it. But my hands were too busy tweaking my nipples, which stiffened rapidly. They were nice nipples, dark, prominent and responsive. My breasts were soft and succulent.

I stepped back so all of me was mirrored. Something I had not done for a long time. I liked what I saw. 'Gorgeous', Houston had said. And I could agree with him. For once, niggling thoughts about this or that aspect --- my breasts could be larger, my thighs trimmer --- evaporated. I liked what I saw. A nubile, female body, fresh, ripe, enticing. I felt desirable.

I admired my image in the mirror for a long time, turning this way and that. A warm feeling suffused my innards. Libido appeared....

But a hard day awaited. I sighed. Make-up. I hate it, but what can you do. It makes a difference. In my job it made a very large difference. I had time. The first break was at 10.30. Then, I had to be at my brightest, look my best, combing the lobby for aggravated clients as they streamed out of the conference hall following the first session.

As I worked on my face, though, I began to think. Yes, I had enjoyed my night with Houston. Ok, I had not come to orgasm. There was an element of frustration. But he was a nice guy. He earnestly wanted to please me, and he had. And he had promised 'he'd make it up to me', which in his language meant he would make me come.

It came to me suddenly.

I did not want to see Houston again. I had broken a taboo. It had not worked out badly, quite the converse. I had no regrets. But an inner voice told me that it would not be the same again. I knew nothing about him except that he worked for Occidental, came from Houston and was married. He'd taken off his ring, but the mark on his finger where it had been he could not erase. A young wife, maybe some kids? An adventure with a strange woman who did not slap his face and pour beer down his shirt when he made an outrageous suggestion. That was me.

Or worse; he had fallen in love with me.

Love at first sight. Many people do not believe in this, but I do because I truly fell in love with Herman the moment I met him. What if the same had happened to Houston? He had blurted out 'Will you sleep with me tonight?' I knew this was out of character. I believed him when he said this was 'the first time'. He was too naïve to have dissembled. I was too experienced not to notice if he had.

I called my boss.

"Can't you get something for it?" she said, crossly.

"I really don't think so. I need to see my doc. I think it's food-poisoning."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I can't represent the firm feeling like this, Sheila. Honestly."

I'd told her I'd spent the morning on the loo.

It would be a blot on my record. But so be it. It had hit me suddenly that there were only two possibilities. Houston had fallen in love with me. Disaster, because there was not the faintest prospect I would ever fall in love with him. Or he had not, in which case our second night would consist of him trying to get me off and becoming increasingly frustrated when he found he could not.

A second encounter with Houston would not end well.

Quit when you're ahead. It's one of my mottos.

I packed my carry-on, checked out and headed for the airport.

Epilogue

You've probably figured it, but no harm in laying it out. My encounter with Houston was a turning point in my life. I remember in particular admiring myself in the mirror after he had left. It did not dawn on me at the time that this had wider implications. What I had admired was not just myself, but a female body, flaunting itself.

Shauna and I have been together now for three years. She's younger than me, and her body is firmer, more supple. It's simply exquisite. When she walks into our apartment it turns me on just to think that in five minutes she will be naked. I will stroke her firm limbs, her breasts, tweak her nipples, which are even more responsive even than mine, and finger her pronounced vaginal lips, which are always ready.

Occasionally I ask her just to stand before me. I'm sure she feels good as my eyes devour every inch of that exquisite torso Her feet are fine-boned. I love her feet, and she uses them on me every day, teasing my clit with her supple toes and thrusting them into me in timeless sequence. When she's teased me enough, she'll rub my vagina and pubis with the sole of her foot, pressing harder, on and on, until I scream out my orgasm.

I love her breasts, pear shaped, hanging slightly each to its side, but with the resilience of youth. She shakes them coquettishly, and I watch, fascinated, as they bob up and down, settling gradually.

I love her so flat stomach, and that her ribcage stands out when she breathes in. She does this for me. She exaggerates, because she knows how it turns me on.

Above all, I love her long, slender legs and thighs that lead up to a pubis devoid of hair, smooth and silky. She teases me by holding her legs together, so only her clit hood shows. Like a young girl. Then she'll open her thighs to reveal those extended vaginal lips, always glistening.

When I look up, her eyes have a wicked look as if to say 'I'm going to ravish you. And I want to be ravished by you.' Those eyes. They speak volumes.

We make love. Hour after hour of pure ecstasy. We know each other so well, speech is superfluous. Orgasm follows orgasm until one of us, usually me, is exhausted.

My priorities are firmly set. I do not submit to 'the whip'. Shauna comes first, and if Sheila does not like it, she can fire me, and to hell with it.

Shauna accompanies me on most of my travel, and what a delight it is to return from the hotel to find her lying naked on the bed, stroking herself.

I undress slowly before her until I am also naked.

"Poor dear," she'll say, referring to the markings the underwear has left on my body.

Shauna does not use underwear. Jeans and shirt. That's it. No pants, no bra. She can get away with it. I can't, not when I'm working.

I lie beside her and her soft fingers massage away the external marks the day's work has caused, and smooth the internal wrinkles from long hours of 'client soothing'. Her tongue caresses my nipples, then moves down to my vagina. Slowly she brings me up until my body is writhing in passion. She holds me there, then takes me over, flicking my clit tip with her tongue, not stopping until my orgasm has subsided and I am calm. She pays no attention to her own needs. She knows these will be taken care of later.

With Shauna, I always come to orgasm. Every time. Many times.

I shower, then we dress for dinner. Strap on shoes, short skirts, no panties, blouses that hide little.

OhYes! We get hit on a lot. And it isn't as though I find men unattractive. I suppose I am, in the lingo, 'bi'. But mostly the more attractive guy goes for Shauna. She's younger, prettier, her body is slimmer, she is sexier. I have no problem admitting it. But I never feel threatened. Shauna plays them along. None of them get it that she is 100% lesbian.

And she is in love with me, I with her, we live together in harmony, and I have learned how to respond to her sexual needs.

This I really had to learn, and how I keep her satisfied would undoubtedly be of interest to you.

But that is a different story.

Shauna would never have entered my life if I had not said 'Yes!' when Houston made his outrageous approach. My encounter with him opened my eyes, albeit in a manner I had scarcely anticipated. I am grateful to him for this, and I do feel bad about leaving in the lurch. I do not regret this, but you can feel bad about something you did, even if it was the 'right thing to do'.

Eventually, Houston tracked me down. Big Oil is not so big, after all. He tried to contact me many times, but all lines for him were closed. After a while his attempts tapered off. I think he got the message and, though she will never know why, I hope his wife is benefiting from his outburst, the one night stand that I'm sure neither of us will ever forget.

I was in love with Herman. I'm quite sure of this. But now I'm even more in love with Shauna. The 'condition humaine' is curious indeed. But I am me, and if you find it bizarre that a woman can love a man, and then a woman, then that's your problem. Chacun á son gout.

How long our relationship will last I do not know. Probably, as my body softens further, Shauna will move on. Ten years my junior, it's inevitable. But I don't think about this. I love her, our life together fulfills us both, and that is all that matters.

Live for today, because you never know what tomorrow will bring.