Uncharted Territory Pt. 01

"Absolutely not. But you would be correct in thinking I'm curious."

"What would you say if I told you I was attracted to you?" There was concern in both her voice and expression, as though it really mattered to her how he felt.

"I'm married, you know."

"It's rumored you're going through a divorce."

It was news to him that there was a rumor going around. His eyebrows naturally arched. He thought he had done a good job of keeping that a secret. He really had no idea why he was being so tightlipped about it—it just seemed like the course of action to take. Should he confirm or deny? He liked Jenna very much. Had from the moment they first met. He had fantasized about a tryst with her, but in reality, he wouldn't have an affair with a married woman. But neither could he lie to her. "Okay. It's true. But you're married also."

"So, you haven't heard the other rumor either?"

"Apparently not."

"I'm going through a divorce, as well."

Ron nodded. "And all this?" He swept his hand from her to around the room. "The double-entendres, the cute banter, the teasing, the uncharacteristic outfit, the . . . the . . ."

"Oral affection?"

"You do have a way with words. What was the purpose of all of that?" Ron wanted to know.

"The other part of the rumor about me that no one else knows is that my divorce was final yesterday. I'm finally free. I told you I'm attracted to you. I have been for a long time. But we were both married, and so, the time wasn't right. But now . . . this trip . . . I felt the time might be right. I guess I was wrong."

"What makes you think that?"

"I guess your reaction is not what I expected." Jenna stood and walked over to the bed. "I was hoping we would have moved on to here by now," she explained, sitting on the mattress and patting it.

"Do we know each other that well?" Ron asked.

"Do we need to," Jenna countered.

"There's just a lot we don't know about each other." It was somewhat a nervous stall tactic, to be sure, but at the same time there was a lot of truth to it. She was obviously very skilled in lovemaking, and for whatever reasons she was attracted to him, he didn't want to give her a false sense that he was accomplished too. And he certainly didn't want to embarrass himself with a poor performance.

She rose and walked to the table to get her stuff. "I can see I made a big mistake this evening. Please don't think any less of me."

The last thing Ron wanted was for her to leave. He reached for her arm and turned her to face him. "The fact of the matter is, I'm very attracted to you also, and have been for a long time." He took a deep breath debating whether to go further, but realized that in order for them to get to know each other better and to get her to open up, he might have to take the lead. "So, if you're not in a real hurry, I'll like to tell you some things about myself."

Jenna smiled warmly, leaned in to give him a passionate kiss. "I'd love to hear about you," she said softly. She reached for her glass of wine and returned to the bed. "May I?"

He nodded and she propped two pillows against the headboard and sat with her legs crossed and outstretched, keeping the hem of her skirt at a respectable length. Pulling his chair close to the bed, he sat facing her. Before he began speaking, he leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees.

"I'm not very good in bed," he began in a tone of defeat. "Sexually, I've only been with two women in my lifetime. The first was a girl I dated before I met Dana. She was great. The little sex we had was outstanding and it could have only gotten better had we stayed together, but she was not looking for a permanent relationship. Then along came Dana and there was a lot to like about her, including her old-fashioned notion not to have sex until she got married. Once we did marry, it turned out to be something she didn't care for much. In the beginning, she did her wifely duty, but as time went on, even that became a chore. She would make excuses that resulted in us having sex less often, but it never reached the point that she refused it at all. She cited my size—"

Jenna licked her lips in a manner that said his size was one of her favorite attributes.

"—as a cause of discomfort, but I always regarded that as an excuse. She eventually succeeded in causing me to lose interest and the sex we've had the last couple of years has been only what could be politely called utility sex for which no skill was required, so whatever skill I did have rusted away."

She drew her legs up which naturally caused her skirt to slide up her thigh, then she leaned forward, looking deeply into his eyes. "That's a sad story. And I now understand your trepidation. But the fact is, I was attracted to you before, I'm still attracted to you, and my desire to make love with you has nothing to do with my estimate of your sexual prowess. I am glad you told me these things. Perhaps if we—I—hadn't been so quick earlier and had taken the time to learn this about you we could have taken a different approach. I apologize."

"It's not necessary. I did enjoy it."

"But I don't want you to think badly of me or that I'm a slut," Jenna said sincerely, resting back against the pillows again. This time she did not adjust her skirt and he had another breathtaking view of her legs. "I realize that the image most people have of me is that of a straight-laced woman. But as women, that's a role that is forced on us by society. To behave any differently is to be labeled a slut. And you don't get very far with such a reputation.

"In my opinion, there are two kinds of women in the world: The Dana's, and I hesitate to say, the Jenna's. You see, Ron, I like sex—no, I don't just like it, I love it. I don't know what happened to me or when, but sometime after puberty, I realized that about myself. And to answer the question that such a statement has probably generated in your mind, no, I don't sleep with any guy that comes along. I never have and I hope I never will.

"But what was a young girl to do? I grew up in a small town with family values and I certainly didn't want to embarrass my parents or myself. Masturbation is only a temporary fix. So, at 18, I married my high school sweetheart."

"The rumor I did hear," Ron interrupted with confusion, "was that your are married to an older man."

With a grimace, Jenna explained, "He's my second marriage. The high school sweetheart was first. We were good teenagers, never did anything to get in trouble; in fact never did anything except heavy kissing and light petting, which turned out to be unfortunate. Because if we hadn't been such prudish, upstanding people we might have figured that dating in high school is a very different relationship from a marriage that wasn't meant to be. You see, Jack's penis was probably no bigger than your little finger, he could barely get an erection and fathering a child was not to be. I don't remember the name of the condition, but he had omitted telling me any of these things before we were married. One of the things I wanted most out of life was children.

"On the day my divorce became final, a girlfriend and I went out to a club to celebrate. I'm not much of a drinker, but I did that night, and became easy pickings. I met a man who was about 15 years older. We danced, we drank, we had a good time, we ended up at his place. Jerry was bigger than Jack, but nowhere close to you. Yet compared to what I had with Jack, sex with Jerry was great. I thought I couldn't get enough—until I pulled up pregnant a few weeks later.

"I was mortified. What would I do, what would my parents think? I was even afraid to tell Jerry. I eventually did and he was surprisingly supportive, said he wouldn't leave me to go through it alone. As much as I wanted a child, I didn't want one out of wedlock. We talked about an abortion, but Jerry wanted to get married. He knew of my upbringing and convinced me it was the proper course of action. At the time, I thought he was right. I still didn't want to have a child this way, but I came to believe my parents would have less problem with the pregnancy and marriage than an abortion.

"After the quiet wedding, Jerry's true personality began to emerge. He was a controller. Little things at first: helping me choose clothes that suited him—which is one reason I dress as I do to this day—tonight aside. We started going to church, became a real upstanding couple. But it was all phoney. I miscarried the baby. I had to pretend to be sad, but deep down I was glad. Jerry was the consoling husband, said we'd try again, but I knew I didn't want a child with him. So, I let him believe I couldn't have children.

"Things changed after that. His controlling became worse. Everything had to be his way—even sex. And that was where he had me. I still liked it, wanted it, was willing to do anything to have it. We did a lot of things I had never done before: oral, different positions, anal. He brought home male and female friends for threesomes, couples for swinging. The problem was, I found myself enjoying it. But with it came the gradual brainwashing, making me believe I needed him and couldn't live without him. And I did start thinking that. So, there we were: this nice, solid couple on the outside and sex maniacs on the inside."

Jenna paused to gauge Ron's reaction, but detecting none, she went on. "This organization was my saving grace. I became friendly with one of the women in one of the couples that we swung with who were closer to Jerry's age. We got close enough that I was able to confide in her. She had known con men and controllers like Jerry and her advice was to get out. But I was too dependent on Jerry. Then Beatrice and I became friends—"

"Beatrice?" Ron repeated with incredulity. "Does she—"

"No, no," Jenna corrected, "she's straight. We do have straight friends. You know, for appearances. But I truly like her. Anyway, I confided in her also—of course, I omitted most of the sexual parts. Her solution was to get involved in the organization. She believed I would show myself what I could do and that would give me confidence in myself, and through that I would learn that I could make it on my own. It sounded reasonable to me.

"Except that Jerry never let me do things that he couldn't control. So, Beatrice and I had to concoct a scheme to make Jerry think it was his idea. Basically, we had to con the con man."

"Obviously, you succeeded," Ron observed.

"And how," she giggled. "He actually believed that my working for the organization would help our public image. You know, fine, upstanding woman working for fine, upstanding organization." Jenna laughed. "What an asshole."

It caused Ron to chuckle as well.

"So, it turned out that Beatrice was correct, and here I am."

Throughout her entire discourse, Jenna's eyes had not focused on any one thing. Now, they met his, and he knew what the question was. But he really didn't know what to make of her story, so he said, "Watching you perform your duties on the board, I would never have guessed that you led such a servile existence. I mean, you're one of the most dynamic people on the board. I've even heard your name bandied around for president."

"Well, you know, the mind is an amazing organ. It can succumb to making you do things you never thought you would and move you to do things you never thought you could."

"How right you are."

After a pregnant pause, Jenna apprehensively asked, "So, what do you think? Am I a bad person?"

"I have no right to judge you," Ron said, still no closer to an opinion than a few minutes ago.

"But you didn't say no."

"You're looking for exoneration?"

"I just want to know what you think given what you now know," she clarified.

"Why is what I think so important?"

"We admitted we were attracted to each other; I would like there to be nothing standing in the way of that attraction taking its natural course—like you having a problem with something I've revealed."

Nodding his understanding, Ron asked, "So, who are you?"

"Excuse me?" She frowned.

"Are you the Jenna I've gotten to know this past year, or was that just a put on—to keep up appearances, as you mentioned? Or are you the Jenna to whom I was just introduced?"

It was her turn to motion her head in comprehension. After some consideration, she answered, "They're both me. You know, like an onion, many layers. Except the one that was controllable. That layer has been peeled away."

"Okay. I like the Jenna I've been knowing. And there is something intriguing about the Jenna I've just met. I'd like to get to know her too. The truth is, I've dreamed about meeting a woman as sexually open-minded as you. My fear is, I won't be able to satisfy you. That was my frightening concern when this evening began. Now, with what you've revealed, I'm absolutely terrified."

Jenna smiled in a motherly sort of way. "Well, this is the honest-to-God truth. I've made no secret of the fact that I enjoy sex very much. But I don't always get . . . well, let me give an analogy. It's liking eating. Some people get hungry and go looking for anything to eat. That's not usually me. Others simply eat when there's food available. That is me. But with you tonight, I was ravenously hungry, and I don't get like that with very many men." She eased off the bed with no regard for the hem of her skirt and stepped over to him, actually raising her skirt to reveal scant panties obviously wet in the crotch, then straddled him on the armless chair. "You're just out of practice, that's all." She slid her covered pussy over his cock causing him to groan. Again his penis was struggling to find a place to grow.

Jenna glanced down, instantly assessed the problem and quickly, as earlier, undid his belt, pants and zipper and freed his rod to rise above the band of his jockey shorts.

At that moment, the phone rang. Ron was able to reach over and grab it off of the night table. It was Beatrice looking for Jenna, so he handed the instrument over.

She accepted it without letting go of his cock. "Hello?" She listened. "Yes, we're still working." She was watching Ron's eyes, then looked down at his cock in her hand. "I've got a good handle on it." She squeezed him as she said this. "We'll be a while longer. Still a few things to lick into shape. Don't wait up." Leaning back and hanging up the phone, Jenna reported with a snicker, "Beatrice says we better get humping on this!"

And with that, Jenna devoured his lips with hers. The flavor of their previous kissing was still fresh on his taste buds and there was no hesitancy on his part to participate this time. He kissed back with relish, even being the one to initiate the tongue dance. She purred her delight.

Acting on their own, his hands slowly grasped her exposed thighs, rubbing up and down a few times before easing up either side to just under her breasts. He couldn't resist cupping each one. It was said that any more than a handful was wasted so he thanked his lucky stars that he had big hands. They felt wonderful to his touch. But he had to see them, so he slowly undid the remaining buttons on her shirt, then spread it open. He broke off the kiss to gaze in wonder at the treasure. She had on a very sheer bra that seemed to have virtually no support. But once he removed it, he saw it was unnecessary. Her tits were exactingly round and hung firmly with very little sag. His dick pulsed and he could feel a dollop of pre-cum roll down his abdomen. He massaged her breasts reveling in their lush feel and was even more thrilled when he lifted them and did not see any scars underneath nor along the under curve of her smallish areolas. These babies were real!

Ron's lips were drawn to her firm, erect nipples. He had a couple of long sucks on each, her moaning signaling favorable response. Then he flicked the very tip of each a few times with the point of his tongue causing her to inhale rapidly.

"They're very sensitive," she cooed.

"Oh, sorry."

"No, I meant that in a good way." She was panting heavily. "Keep it up."

So, he did.

It drove Jenna wild with desire and she started sliding her pussy along the exposed skin below the head and frenulum of his cock. He could feel her pussy juice lubricating her slithering. Glancing down, he saw the most erotic vision he had yet seen: she had pulled aside one leg of her panties and her vaginal lips were wrapped around his shaft like a saddle on a horse.

That was all it took to lift her up, take a step over to the bed and gently lay her down, barely losing contact. His pants and underwear slid down his legs and he eased his shoes off to step out of the fallen garments. He grabbed the waistband of her panties, pulling them down and off to render her completely nude. He could not help but pause a moment to gawk at the incredible sight of her naked body and her shaved pussy. But she would not allow that to last, grabbing onto his shaft and pulling him down. She inched back so that she was entirely on the bed and he followed, halting with his cock poised at her dripping entrance. She grabbed his shirt to pull him down, but only far enough to unbutton and remove it so that they were both completely undressed. She then reached for his rod again to guide it into her. But he halted when he felt the heat emanating from her pussy against his glans.

Ron momentarily panicked about what was to follow, even as desperately as he wanted it. Sensing his hesitation, she encouraged, "Just do what comes natural." She further reassured him with a gentle, loving look in her eyes.

There was a certain feel a man anticipated upon initially entering a pussy. The expectation Ron had was that to which he was accustomed from his wife, as though all vaginas were the same. But he should have realized that Jenna would be different in a positive way. Every part of the surface of his cock, regardless of shape—the ridge of the head, protrusion of veins, roundness of shaft—was touched by the walls of her pussy as though it was actually changing its own shape to conform to him. It was like wearing a warm, wet, velvety glove. He paused a moment to savor the unbelievable sensation—until it quickly occurred to him that if being motionless inside of her felt so great, thrusting would have to be much better.

So, he eased back very slowly wanting to enjoy the feeling of her pussy until the head was just at her entrance. As an afterthought, he pulled all the way out and slid just the underside of his circumcised foreskin along her clit, then back down and inside at the same very slow pace until his balls nudged her ass.

"Oh, my GOD!" Jenna screamed. "That feels sensational."

Again, he drew back at a snail's pace, out and up against her clit. She emitted a variety of unintelligible moans and groans of pleasure, then grabbed his ass in an attempt to slam his dick back into her quickly. But Ron resisted, maintaining his slow movement. The tempo was driving her crazy. She whipped her head from side to side, her lips tightly pressed together to muffle the roar she wanted to let loose. In less than a dozen strokes she was cumming uncontrollably, sweat forming between her breasts and a fresh flow of juice from her pussy.

Still, Ron continued his slow pistoning, much to her amazement and delight. He was particularly satisfied with himself because he had made her come but he had not yet himself.

Confidence building, his stroking constant, Ron bent his head to once again tease and partake the sweetness of her luscious nipples. Alternating breasts, he repeated giving a long sucks and a couple of tongue flicks to each. In a few minutes, she came again, but he held out.

More proud of himself than ever, he didn't let up with the slow thrusting. Jenna looked at him with an expression that suggested he was torturing her, but she was too addicted to have him stop. Almost her entire body was covered with a thin layer of sweat. She signaled her desire to continue by running her hands down his back to his ass and squeezing his cheeks. She then reached up and played with his nipples, pinching and twisting the little nubs.