My Six Year Itch

My story is about a turning point in my life which occurred some years ago when I was in my late twenties. I'd like to tell the story with as much accuracy as I can, but I confess that some details have grown fuzzy over time. I'm forced to use a bit of creative license to recreate events. Also, I'm concerned about keeping my anonymity, so that means I changed some minor details which might identify me to co-workers.

My first job after college was at a large electronics company in California. My fiancé and I interviewed at lots of places. We both accepted jobs at the same company, though in different divisions, with a starting date that gave us the summer off. We got married a few weeks after graduation, spent eight weeks backpacking around Europe, and eventually found ourselves out in California at Orientation Training with a few pieces of furniture and even less money.

My husband, Richard, was a business major, and he started working as a Sales Rep. I was a math major, and my computer science minor got me a job in Customer Support answering a telephone. After a few years of this, Richard was a successful first-level sales manager, and I was organizing and teaching training classes to field engineers for new products. We were becoming the yuppie couple -- TINKs (Two Incomes, No Kids) with a starter home and two Hondas in the driveway. Now we had more furniture and more money.

But it was missing something. We were caught in the daily grind of 50-hour work-weeks. Richard was traveling once or twice a month, mostly to the East Coast for a few days at a time, and we seemed to be losing that spark between us. In hindsight it was a classic situation: take a little bit bored, add a little lonely, and combine that with my job which brought me into regular contact with interesting new people almost every week. It was a dangerous mix, at least for me.

That's when I met Mike. He came to California from Australia for a two-week training course I was teaching, along with two dozen other people from all around the world. He was a big guy, maybe two inches taller than Richard and more muscular. He was cute. He was funny. He was attentive. And he was a flirt. We hit it off right away.

The evening of the last full day session was the traditional dinner at a local restaurant. The entire group was there. We had a noisy time in a side room, with the traditional overindulgence of beer and wine and food and silly awards. And laughter. And flirting. I sat next to Mike, and by the end of the evening his hand was in my lap under the tablecloth. And I just let it happen.

And Richard was out of town on a trip. All the elements of danger in this one!

I don't remember exactly how it happened, or what exactly I was thinking, but Mike followed me home. I don't remember if it was his idea or my idea. It doesn't matter now. It was both of us. It was me offering him another beer, or him wanting to see a typical American house, or just neither of us wanting to have the evening end.

Things were a little awkward at first. I left him in the living room to start a fire in the fireplace while I went to the bathroom. Before I came out, I took off my pantyhose. What was I thinking when I did that?

Mike took his turn in the bathroom while I got him a beer and me a glass of wine, and we ended up on the floor in front of the fire, leaning against the couch, just silently absorbing the situation and waiting to see what was going to happen.

And what was going to happen, did. Mike began to kiss me, and I kissed him back. He was a sweet kisser. I guess most of all he was new and different, and that was exciting to me. So how did it happen that we ended up necking on the carpet? I don't remember. Too much wine that night, and too many years since then, have combined to dull my memory. It didn't seem exactly right, I remember, but it didn't feel completely wrong, either.

Mike's lips left mine, and before I knew it, his head was down near my crotch and he was lifting my skirt. My protests were mostly in my mind. My head was spinning with yes-no-do-don't and I couldn't seem to arrive at any conclusions faster than Mike was advancing. For him, and maybe for me, the absence of any "no" was a "maybe", and that was really a tacit "yes". I wanted to feel Mike making love to me more than I wanted to tell him to stop and let me think logically.

I'm not saying that Mike attacked me. No, he was just methodical. Gloriously methodical. He put his mouth to the crotch of my panties and breathed hot air, and I felt the moisture forming and my lips spreading and I just wanted him to keep going. I was allowing myself to be seduced by this almost stranger. I wanted him to make me crazy for him, and he knew it and made sure I was.

His fingers pulled aside the cloth, and I ached for his tongue to touch my flesh. I clenched my buttocks and raised my hips and tried to find him at the same time as his mouth found me, gently licking up and down my slit. I lay there on the floor, my eyes closed tight, my hands clenched into fists at my side, whimpering little noises and silently willing Mike to go harder, tongue deeper, to invade me. I couldn't raise my arms to embrace him, not yet anyway, because that would be admitting too much, too soon.

He stopped -- no, don't stop! – though only momentarily to pull down my panties. I lifted my hips to help, yet another act that carried me beyond the passive "maybe" and over to the active "yes", and now my pussy was completely exposed to his sight and touch. I just knew it was gaping with arousal. Come back, come back! I willed his mouth back to taste and explore and tease and nibble. I was louder now, and my fists relaxed into fingers that combed through his hair, squeezing his head to tell him that I liked his fat tongue thrusting into me and his little sucks and nibbles on my clit.

I could feel my orgasm building. It was a warmth beginning in and around my pussy and spreading deeper inside, a liquid feeling of hot juices flowing down my vagina and blood engorging everything between my hips, a feeling of my clit jutting out and my pussy lips hardening and the sensations climbing in my body like mercury in a thermometer sitting in sunlight. Rising, expanding, intensifying, I couldn't hold back my moans.

And then he stopped. Stopped cold. I was almost there, seconds away from my explosive release, and Mike lifted his head and I was left hanging, like a trapeze flyer left spinning in midair. He moved up above my body and I looked at him though heavy eyes as I lay there panting, wondering, anticipating, and then I felt his stiff cock against my stomach. I froze. He had dispatched his pants somehow, and now he was poised above me, rubbing gently against me.

This was the moment of truth. Did I want him inside me, or just to eat me? I looked down at his erection between us, found it with my hands, and was startled by its size and hardness. I'd had a few lovers in college before Richard, mostly pretty average in size, but Richard was a bit smaller and I had become accustomed to him. Mike was an inch or two longer than Richard -- was that possible? Longer and significantly thicker, or at least it seemed that way in this moment of lust. He was rock hard, a steel pole covered by soft skin. And he was uncircumcised. I had never seen an uncircumcised penis, other than in pictures. And never one hard. And Mike was definitely hard.

"Mike," I started to say, and he covered my mouth with his, and edged his hips lower to find my pussy with his shaft. Did I want this? Did I not want this? My hands felt up and down his erection, sliding its velvet skin, finding the bulbous head peeking out of that extra skin like a turtle's head, and we moaned into each other's mouth as he worked himself into my wetness.

My diaphragm was in a drawer in my bedroom. That was a million miles away. No condoms in the house. Mike didn't offer one. When was my period due? This week? Next week? Jesus, *think*. His cock was teasing my pussy. He was getting slippery. Getting ready. Oh, shit, what was I going to do?

But I had no time to think, no need to think, just an amazed desire to feel this magic penis inside me and to climb back up that ladder of excitement. Mike's body was insistent, urging me, seducing me, rubbing his thick cock against my clit with wondrous pressure, and I finally let go, moving my hands to his broad shoulders and holding him and relaxing my legs apart and just letting it happen. His cock slipped down into my opening and pressed in. We broke our long kiss, and I just held my breath, feeling the pressure of that big head pop inside and stretch me open, and I exhaled and panted and held my breath again as he inched in farther, then backed out, then deeper still, then out again, until his cock stretched me wider than I had ever remembered from those times many years ago, before Richard.

I felt both powerless and empowered. His body pressed me against the floor, his weight mostly supported by his left arm, his left hand cradling the back of my head, holding me tight between him and the floor. Our upper bodies were still fully clothed, our lower bodies were naked, and the contrast focused the sensations to below my waist. His right hand scooped under my butt, tilting my hips to help his angle of attack.

I felt taken by him, possessed by his bulk and his grip and his encroaching into very intimate territory. But I also felt like I was the reason for his lust, my body was the goal and I was giving it to him as much as he was taking it. *I* caused his penis to transform into this marvelous size and shape. Me. He was fucking *me*.

Mike stroked into my body with the skill of a patient lover. We both stopped breathing as he glided into my eager body until it reached a previous stopping point, then pressed inward into new territory, then retreated back out as we both panted for oxygen, readying for the next slow drive inward. Finally he was totally inside me, his pubic bone pushing against me and putting incredibly wonderful pressure on my clit and my opening. God, it was fantastic, the feeling of being stretched so wide and having this warm, hard piece of flesh up inside me, throbbing and twitching and full of life.

It was all sensation, all formless and nameless passion. I had forgotten over the years with Richard how our lovemaking had become so regular. Almost tidy and antiseptic. A little foreplay, a break to put in my diaphragm if I hadn't done it beforehand, a little more foreplay, a little spit, then he would be inside me. It was nice. Comfortable. Like cuddling, only with our genitals rubbing. He'd come, and I'd come, usually. With Richard it was lovemaking. With Mike it was *sex*. Lusty, passionate, thrusting driving juices-flowing hot-breathed moaning clenching raw *sex*.

Mike was driving me up the hill, and I was pulling him along with me. He would glide all the way in, then push up and in with strength powered by his legs, challenging my already maxed out vagina. I could feel him throb, and that made me even wetter, thinking about this live thing inside of me and how I was exciting him. He was so thick I couldn't clench him back with much force. He would root around inside me, in to the hilt like this for a few moments, then withdraw with his cock angled to rub the flesh close to my clit. I don't think he could actually rub against my clit -- he was too big and rigid -- but it didn't matter. He was scratching all the right itches.

Throughout this whole time we didn't speak. It wasn't quiet, though. There were groans and moans and whispers, but it was all too intense for actual words. I think I was panting too hard to speak, anyway. I couldn't think. I was just feeling. I was on overload. Then Mike murmured, "You have a lovely cunt," and he began to speed up his thrusts and I let myself get pushed over the edge. It started in my pussy and just swelled out and up and all throughout my entire body. That column of mercury in the thermometer rose up to my head until there was no more room, and then it all just exploded. I felt myself vibrating inside, and my pussy muscles pulsated around his hard cock and my arms and legs held onto him in a deathgrip that I couldn't control. He just kept his cock jammed into me, rocking it back and forth in little movements, whispering, "I can feel it. What a lovely cunt you have. I can feel it. Come for me."

My spasms had barely eased off when Mike started thrusting again, now fast and hard and deep with no pauses. I was exquisitely sensitive inside. I could feel him even more than before. He was big and hard and powerful, and I didn't want to think anymore about the danger of him coming inside of me. I just wanted to feel it, to feel him, to give some pleasure back. I tilted my hips and aimed my pussy at him and lifted my knees and helped him get there, to get him where he wanted to go. I was really dripping now, and he just slammed into me faster and faster, and it was incredible to feel him, to hear his grunts, to feel his heavy balls bumping against my ass as he bottomed out.

Suddenly he jammed into me as deep as he could go, whispered "Feel me come" and just held himself there and held me tightly, and I felt the base of his cock pulsing and his entire super-stiff erection throbbing inside of me and a sensation of hot liquid bathing me deep inside. It was an incredible feeling. Almost a miracle. I could feel his pulses, even count them, one two three, and he exhaled and pushed even harder but couldn't get deeper, four five six, as the warm rush of his semen pumped into me. I could imagine it, white and sticky and so alien to my body, squirting against my cervix and into the uppermost recesses of my vagina. Oh God, I intensely turned on! I think I may have come again, a little one, but it was so hard to tell because his orgasm and his body and my body just merged together for one long eternity of a moment.

For the next few minutes we just lay there. It took me that long to stop trembling. It was the most intense orgasm of my life. I think about it now, years later, and I start to get wet. I don't think that memory will ever go away.

As for Mike, he flew back to Australia the next afternoon. At the end of the wrapup session he came up and shook my hand. He held on to it for a little extra time, and left me with a smile and a wink. And a little hint of warmth building inside me. Then and now.