Uncharted Territory Pt. 03byRonCabo©
Author's Note: If you have not read Parts 1 and 2 yet, you might find it helpful to do so.
She ripped the door open after he knocked, yanked him in, and urgently said, "Come on, there's a fire!"
She tugged him down the hallway to the bedroom. Without skipping a beat, she ripped his belt open, shoved his pants and underwear to the floor, sucked his penis into her mouth, lathering it up and making certain it was good and hard—it was—then hiked up her short skirt, plopped down on her back on the bed with her ass right on the edge, lifted her legs and rested her ankles on his shoulders. "Quick. Hose me, I'm burning!"
Wrapping his arms around her thighs, his cock sniffed out the fervor of her wet pussy and found its way in with no assistance. He plowed into her with forceful strokes, amazed at the control and penetration he got from standing. She closed her feet in on his face; the scent was clean, fresh and evocative, and he couldn't help but rub his cheeks against her perfumed soles.
When he looked down, she had unbuttoned her shirt opening her milky breasts to his view. Keeping her firm thighs inside his arms, he reached down to fondle those beautiful globes, as well as attending to the hard nipples that stood atop like bullets embedded in her skin.
The sound of his balls slapping against her ass was soon drowned out by her moaning, and the frown of anticipation on her lovely face was a sign that she was close. In seconds, the intensity increased and her vaginal muscles tightened around his solid rod as a prelude to the spasms that followed. With gritted teeth, her orgasm swallowed her.
The mood was not lost on him and he continued thrusting to the slurping sounds of her now juicier pussy and promptly added to the liquid with a blast of steamy, hot semen. As he slowed his pumping, he could see the pearly white coating on his shaft.
Still not done, when he pulled out of her, she rotated her body around, rolled onto her chest and licked the froth from him, emitting short "mmmm's" in accompaniment. When he was soft and clean, she raised herself to a squatting position, pressed her sperm smeared lips to his, granting him a taste of his own come. Then she pulled away and smiled. "Hey, baby."
"Hello, Jenna," Ron greeted, licking a little bit of sticky from his lips.
"I thought you'd never get here."
"Weekend traffic out of town."
"I got a little excited with anticipation waiting for you," she explained.
"I gathered. But it was a nice welcome."
Jenna beamed. "Well, now that I can think clearly again, are you hungry? I'd like to take you to dinner."
"Yes, I'm hungry. But I don't want you to take me to dinner. I'll take you."
"I invited you up here. I want to take you to dinner. Why can't I? Would that be an offense to your masculine pride or something?"
Shaking her head in disbelief, Jenna said, "We can discuss who'll pay later. But I really am hungry, so let's go. What's your preference? I don't do Greek/Lebanese or French. My favorites are Mexican, Seafood, Steak or Italian."
"Any of the last three are fine. I was married to an Italian so that has actually become my favorite."
With arched eyebrows, she commented, "I would have thought you'd be tired of it, or at the very least, would be rebelling against it."
"I actually liked Italian before Dana and I still do."
"Okay. Did you two have a favorite little Italian place?"
Ron shook his head. "Dana and her family cooked their own Italian food, and in their minds, no restaurant measured up. In fact, they didn't care to eat out much at all."
"Everyone needs a little Italian place, someplace special to go to, someplace they can call their own. We'll have one. And I think I know just the place."
"Did you and Jerry have one?"
"Jerry didn't like to eat out either, didn't like to spend the money," Jenna said with a grimace.
The discussion carried them through the drive to Pantangelo's, a quaint little Sicilian style restaurant tucked out of the way in a quiet neighborhood. They ordered antipasto, Chicken Parmigiana for her, Veal Parmigiana for him. Over a bottle of Chianti in a basket, Jenna resumed.
"So, were you apprehensive about coming here?"
"Apprehensive? What do you mean?" Ron asked, though he thought sure he knew.
"Last weekend, you were concerned about being able to perform in bed. But by the time you dropped me off Sunday night, I felt as though we had solved your dilemma. I was just wondering if going a week without sex might have caused a relapse. Unless you haven't gone a week without it."
Caught off guard, Ron hesitated. "Well, that was about as subtle as an Indian uprising."
"So, you have been active during the week," Jenna said matter-of-factly, as though she knew for sure. But how could she?
"What makes you think that?" he asked as though he had something to hide—well, he sort of did. Although, he didn't know what made him think he had to hide it.
"That asshole ex-husband of mine had many faults, more than he had virtues. But he really knew how to read people. I guess some of it rubbed off. And I'm sorry if I am out of line; however, if you had not, you would have answered no right away. The fact that you didn't answer right away suggests that you have been active and you don't want me to know." She leaned closer and touched his hand tenderly in a gesture of comfort. "I have no right to know, and I wasn't trying to pry, I was just making conversation. If you did, it doesn't bother me. In fact, I would be proud to know that what we did last weekend maybe gave you the courage to do it with someone else."
Ron was dumbfounded and speechless.
"As I told you last weekend," Jenna went on, "even before I was married, I was sexually aware. If I had to pick one good thing about being married to Jerry, it's that he didn't make me feel ashamed that I enjoyed sex so much, and as a result, you'll learn, if you haven't already, that I'm as sexually open-minded as certainly any woman you'll probably ever meet, and probably most men."
Ron smirked, "You say the most extraordinary things."
"Don't you believe me?"
"The problem is, I do," he answered with a shake of his head.
"And why is that a problem?"
"It's not really—figure of speech. I just never know what to expect from you."
"Is that bad?"
"Not so far. But it does keep it lively."
"So, do you like surprises?"
"I have a feeling it doesn't really matter."
Jenna laughed. "That's good. And speaking of good, was she?"
"Whomever you had sex with this week."
Ron had to chuckle at her unwavering pursuit of this subject. But it quickly occurred to him that one of his reasons in coming to spend the weekend with her was to see if she was as good as last weekend. So far, she was. But she had also opened herself up to scrutiny with her assurance of open-mindedness. By her invitation for him to spend the weekend with her it was apparent she still wanted an ongoing relationship. The foundation of any relationship is honesty, and if he was going to consider entering into a relationship with her they had to be honest with one another. So, maybe this was an opportunity to see if she was really that open-minded. It might also give him some insight into what a relationship with her might be like. "Which one?" It was his turn to surprise her. And he did.
"There was more than one?" Jenna clearly hadn't expected that. "Both."
"There was more than two?"
"My God, did I underestimate you."
"What does that mean? I thought you said you were open-minded?"
"Oh, I am," Jenna answered positively. "I don't have a problem with that. You've exceeded my wildest expectations. That's all. I'm dying to know more."
So, he told her—in some detail.
When he finished, Jenna remarked, "Damn, I created a monster!"
"You wanted to know."
"I'm not complaining, Ron. Anything but. I wish I had been so lucky this week. For me it was just frozen dinners, TV and a well-placed finger. But it has made me horny as all hell."
Taking a few minutes to finish his meal, Ron also used the time to evaluate her response. It seemed as genuine as it could be. And he was impressed. "You were right; this is a great Italian restaurant."
"I'm glad you liked it. What do you want to do now?" she asked.
"I don't know. Did you have something in mind?"
Jenna shrugged. "We can go to a movie, although personally, I wouldn't want to waste our brief time together on a movie; or we can go to a club and dance, or just hang out, or we can just go back home and fuck our brains out."
"Somehow, I have a feeling that whatever else we do, we'll end up doing the latter eventually anyway."
"Good. Going to a club would be fun."
"I didn't mean . . . I thought you were so horny?"
Jenna merely flashed a curious smile.
* * *
Jenna managed to intercept the tab for dinner. Also, Ron should have realized it wasn't as simple as her putting her lust on hold until later. They made small talk about dancing and music while he drove them downtown to the club to which she wanted to take him. They both liked music and dancing, but neither of their spouses did so neither had done much of it. Jerry had liked to go to clubs, but mostly because it was a place to pick up other singles or couples.
When they pulled into the parking lot, Jenna directed Ron to park in a corner out of the way, ostensibly so his car might not get damaged by some drunken idiot. Even though he knew she was full of surprises, he hadn't yet trained himself to always expect them. So, by the time he exited his vehicle and walked around to gentlemanly open her door, she had her seatback all the way down and was laying with her skirt hiked up, panties removed (he thought sure he had seen her put some on) and her legs spread.
"I thought you might like to wet your whistle before we went inside and got thirsty from dancing," she said, her forefinger playing with her teeth teasingly.
Whatever else he thought about this, and he wasn't exactly certain what that was, the sight of her delicate pussy lips that just ever so daintily guarded the cave of pleasure, with a few drops of sweet nectar peeking out like dew on the morning grass, was just too inviting for anything else to matter. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was near, Ron's tongue zeroed in and delicately swiped the sugary droplets, then brushed her closed lips with the tip of his tongue without spreading them. A little shiver engulfed her body. He then went to work lapping her juices and sucking her clit. Wishing his tongue was longer, he darted it in as far as he could and swirled it around.
Jenna's breathing quickened. She moaned, and then apparently realizing where she was, she pursed her lips to mute what were undoubtedly some loud noises wanting to escape. As usual, after the orgasm subsided, she pushed his head away when she became too sensitive to take any more.
While she caught her breath, Ron reached into the side pocket of the door for some napkins. He always took extra when visiting fast food places to keep in the car for . . . well; he had found a new use. He dabbed his mouth and offered clean napkins to Jenna. She cleaned herself, and then slipped her panties back on.
"That ought to hold me for a little while," she remarked, sliding out of the SUV and fixing her clothes.
Ron could only roll his eyes, which thankfully, she did not see.
* * *
There was nothing remarkable about the club when they entered and headed toward the dance floor. It was big and dark with bars on either side wall and a stage in the middle toward the back with a DJ. To the club's credit, the music was good and loud, but not so much that two people had to shout at the top of their lungs to hear one another. They found a spot on the dance floor and began gyrating to the pulsing sounds. Ron observed the other dancers on the floor. No one was dressed up, but many women were dressed down: short skirts, loose tops, braless. Everyone just seemed to be carefree about everything.
After a couple of dances, Jenna was ready for some liquid libation. Instead of heading for one of the bars on either side of the dance floor, she led him to an out-of-the-way one behind the stage area, where it was still dark, but night quite as bad, and better still, not quite as loud. Most of the bar stools were taken, but they did find a booth across from the bar. She slid in one side and pulled him in beside her. A waitress in a skimpy black denim dress uniform, which was very short on the bottom and buttoned only to her navel up top revealing a very respectable set of boobs, appeared to take their order.
If that hadn't made Ron completely hard, a glance at some of the males and females on the bar stools finished the job. One woman was sitting facing away from the bar with her legs crossed, the high heel of her pump locked on the rung of the stool, her skirt having ridden up to her ass, sipping a martini. On the next stool, another woman was likewise sitting, except that her legs were spread around her male companion's waist and he appeared to be ever so slightly dry humping her. Then there were two women who had their hands all over each other and periodically leaned in for kisses.
With raised eyebrows, Ron remarked, "Interesting place."
"No inhibitions," Jenna explained, quoting the name of the club. "You leave them at the door." She then casually allowed her hand to fall to his lap where she petted his swollen rod through his pants. He quickly glanced at her, but she only returned a dreamy smile.
The waitress appeared with their drinks and he tried to squirm to cover up, but Jenna had wrapped her hand around his cock and squeezed to hold him in place. When the waitress stooped to serve their drinks, her breasts were clearly visible through the wide open top of her dress, pointed nipples and all. She spotted Jenna's hand, which gave a suggestion of Ron's size, then reached down and gave his prick a quick squeeze of her own. "Nice," she commented. The two women exchanged smiles of appreciation, then the waitress went on about her business.
It shouldn't really have been a surprise what kind of place this was, knowing Jenna. Ron had always thought he was sexually open-minded also, but that was when it was only in his mind. He had dreamed of coming to places like this in his marriage, and now that he was here and actually living that open-mindedness, he wasn't really certain how he felt about it. It was overwhelming, to be sure. Most of all, it was still hard to believe that this was the same woman with whom he served on the Board of the organization.
Jenna wrested his attention back by twisting toward him and draping her leg over his, She then pulled his head toward her and kissed him passionately. Now, it was her thigh rubbing his cock. When she heard the music change to something slow, she pulled her lips away and pushed him out of the booth, sticking a reserved sign on the edge of their table that was in a slot against the wall. "Let's dance again."
A slow song, he thought, and couldn't even imagine what was going to transpire on the dance floor. He wasn't disappointed, and for once, not surprised. People were basically fucking standing up with their clothes on. It couldn't have been more suggestive unless everyone had been naked. All groups were represented, male-female, female-female and male-male. A nearby couple had the man with his hand up the woman's shirt from the shirttail fondling her tit and nearly pushing it out the top of the three buttons that were unbuttoned. In another couple comprised of two women, they each had their hands down the back of each other's stretch waistband pants, and judging by the extended knuckle that protruded from one, it was a good guess she had some of her finger inserted in the other's asshole. Then there were two guys dancing, their hard-ons clearly outlining ridges in the front of their pants and making no secret of the fact that they were rubbing their cocks together. And then, of course, Jenna had to get in the act by grabbing Ron's ass and grinding her pussy against his lump.
With all this going on, Ron wasn't certain he was actually keeping time to the music, but it didn't seem to bother Jenna, nor anyone else. So, he just went with the flow. Interestingly enough, three slow songs in a row were played, one fading into the next, almost as though the DJ wanted to be sure everyone got off. Ron wasn't attempting to, and so, he didn't. But it was possible that Jenna did if her soft whimpers and sudden stops were any indication. He was beginning to think she was a nymphomaniac, and the notion would be something to consider in allowing a relationship to develop.
They returned to their booth and their half-consumed drinks. "Having fun?" she asked.
He shrugged. "It's not dull. That's for sure. Where did you find this place?"
"Jerry found it."
"Of course. And the two of you, no doubt, brought people home with you."
"A few times. That's what some people are looking for: to pick up or be picked up. If you were interested, the waitress would probably be willing."
"What makes you so sure?" Ron asked with some disbelief, visions of a threesome briefly flashing through his head. It was one of his sexual fantasies.
"She touched your cock, the look she and I exchanged," Jenna explained, knowingly. "Are you interested?"
"I could be."
"What does that mean?"
"I want to make you happy. If you want to do a threesome, I'm game."
"That doesn't really answer the question."
"Would it make you feel better if I said I did?"
"I don't want you to say something just to make me feel better, or say what you think I want to hear."
"I'm sensing you do want to do a threesome," Jenna prophesied.
"I'll be honest and say it is a fantasy of mine," Ron admitted, "but to just bring home a stranger—I don't think I want it that way."
"You want to invite her for a drink?"
Ron gave Jenna a look of exasperation.
"Relax. I'm just kidding." She chuckled a little. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."
"Jenna, this is all just so new to me," he explained. "I don't want to seem like a prude or a novice, but just about everything we've done together is uncharted territory for me."
"I understand. I truly do. I'm just trying to help you loosen up. I guess I'm just not going about it the right way. Coming here was probably too much too soon." Her tone was regretful.
"I appreciate that. I really do. This is an interesting place. I knew that places like this existed, but I always thought they were in New York, Los Angeles, places like that."
"There are actually lots of clubs like this in towns like this. There's one in your city. But they all keep a low profile because there are still too many people who are uptight about sex. And if you think this place is wild, there are places—none of which I have been to—in the bigger cities like the ones you mentioned that are much wilder. Here, there's a lot of suggestiveness—"
"I would call some of what I've seen more than suggestive," Ron countered. "There was a couple at the bar before; she had her legs spread and he was dry humping her. Then there were a couple of women on the dance floor during that slow song and I'm sure one had her finger up the other's ass."
"That was suggestive. At these other clubs I'm talking about, the guy would have been really fucking the woman at the bar. She would have had her panties pulled to the side and he would have only been unzipped. And if you were there sitting next to them, you would see his naked cock penetrating her pussy. And the two women," Jenna nodded, "the one's pants would have been pulled below her cheeks and you would have known the other's finger was in her ass."