A "One Off?"

# # #

I checked on Anastasia. She was in exactly the same position I left her about four hours earlier making exactly the same loud train noises. She almost never snores so her food poisoning and the sleep-inducing and symptom-mitigating cocktail that the doctor gave her must have affected her by causing the muscles in the roof of her mouth, tongue and throat to relax enough that they partially blocked her airway and vibrated. I made sure that she was covered properly, kissed her on the forehead again, and then left.

Obviously I had a pang of guilt just as I walked out the door and had a fleeting thought about not returning to my fuck nest; however, the pleasure chemicals flowing through my brain soon overwhelmed my hesitation, and return I did.

Calamity Jane got back to our little fuck nest at almost the same time that I did. "How's your wife?" she asked.

"Sleeping like a baby that makes loud train noises," I replied.

"Same with my husband," she cackled. Then she pulled a small diameter silicone article about ten-twelve inches long out from behind her back. It was tapered at one end, and had a knob at the other. "This is going to get us even more fun, Paul," she cackled again.

While I am really naïve, I was with-it enough to realize that it was a butt plug. "Why not?" I thought; "this is a night of firsts."

"Before we resume our activities we need a shower," she smiled, and her dress was off before "shower" got out of her mouth. I wasn't far behind.

While Anastasia and I had showered together before, it was rare, and nothing like this one. Calamity Jane was all over me; she never blew me to completion and we didn't fuck, but just about everything else was practiced even if just for a little while. As she wrapped a towel around herself she mumbled "Carry me to bed -- I love to be manhandled."

As I whisked her off to bed she snagged a small tube of lotion in the bathroom and brought it with us. When we got to the bed she snickered "Eat me while I lube up the butt plug, then we're going to pretend to be Dobermans."

I did as told and was very proud to bring her to two orgasms that were so quick and so forceful that she hadn't finishing lubing up the butt plug. I took over for her and by the time that I was finished she was on her hands and knees and going "Ruff, ruff," as she wiggled her ass.

Not familiar with the use of butt plugs I asked her "Which goes first, the plug in your ass or my dick in your pussy."

"If you don't put your dick in first you may not be able to fit it," she giggled.

I slowly inserted my cock into her wet pussy. Even though we had fucked twice earlier in the night it was slow going she was so tight. Once I was buried, though, we banged a little before she stopped me and said "Now the butt plug."

I slowly penetrated her ass with the butt plug until the knob was abutting her crack. She lightly wiggled her ass while I was doing that, and moaned throughout. Fortunately the plug had a small diameter because with her pussy stuffed with my cock there wasn't much room to spare in her intestine. Once both my cock and the butt plug were buried she started banging so then I did too.

With the butt plug in she was so tight that it felt like I was getting a simultaneous fuck, hand job, and head. She had already cum once when I was about to explode. Just before I ejaculated I had an epiphany and simultaneously busted my nut, flicked her clitoral glans piercing, and pulled out the butt plug. She screamed, and then passed out.

I almost passed out myself from the intensity of her pussy clamping onto my dick when I pulled my maneuver. However, I was able to maintain cognizance and leisurely reciprocated in her pussy for a few more minutes until I went flaccid, and popped out. She collapsed on the bed, temporarily regained cognizance, mumbled "I hate you for frying every nerve ending in my body," then passionately kissed me and buried her face in my chest.

We both were wiped out and in dreamland within seconds.

In addition to being the most multi-orgasmic woman on the planet Calamity Jane must have had the best internal clock since three hours later she was shaking me awake. "Time for another check on the spouses," she mumbled as she kissed me. "Ugh -- we both need to brush our teeth before we come back," she chuckled before we repeated the same procedure we had the first time.

Again, Anastasia was in exactly the same position, snoring in exactly the same way. I brushed my teeth, had another fleeting moment of guilt before the dopamine in my brain washed it away, and was soon back with Calamity Jane.

Back in our fuck nest, I finally did Jane missionary. We stared into each other's eyes as we fucked, this time with less aggressiveness than previously, but with real meaning. When we virtually simultaneously came it was with less intensity than before, but somehow it lasted longer; it seemed that I remained in her, while we both groaned, for a good ten minutes before the feeling of ultimate euphoria passed.

As we were about to fall asleep again Jane was really good for my ego when, while lightly stroking my balls, she whispered "You're the biggest dude, in every way, that I've ever been with. I love all your muscles. Too bad that this is a 'One Off,'" and then after another kiss she fell asleep in my arms.

This time we woke up simultaneously. Our spouses had now been asleep/knocked out for a little over ten hours. We took a quick shower together, with only periodic groping, got dressed and then had one last kiss where I lifted her off the ground so that we were at eye level before we left to rejoin our spouses.

"Thank you for the night of my life," I sincerely said before placing her down.

"A 'One Off' for the ages, she replied. "Now, we don't know each other...remember?"

"OK," I chuckled, and then we went in opposite ways.

Once I got back to my suite my brain was foggy. I sat in a padded chair looking at Anastasia and wondering how I could make what I had done up to her. Some ideas formed in my mind causing me to smile. She woke up after I had been back about thirty minutes. I snuggled her, then carried her into the bathroom, stripped us both, and we showered to get her cleaned and awake. I made sure that her C+ cup tits and crotch were sparkling clean.

After breakfast, Anastasia felt better, but still wasn't completely with it so she asked if we could just lounge by the pool, take a few short walks, and just relax. I was happy to agree since Calamity Jane had temporarily sucked much of the life force out of me.

After dinner Anastasia wasn't up for much dancing. We did have a few twirls around the floor, during which I exchanged a couple of surreptitious smiles with Jane as she danced up a storm while her husband had about as little energy as Anastasia and I did.

When we got back to our room Anastasia put on a night gown and was about to nod off when I said "Let me treat you a little first."

I gave her a foot rub -- which she loved -- and then a back rub -- which almost caused her to doze off. Then I turned her on her back and went down on her. She weakly protested, but since she was wiped out couldn't stop me. After I had been eating and fingering her for five minutes she no longer wanted to stop me and was mumbling "Yes, yes, yes..." For the first time that I could remember I really, really loved tonguing, sucking, and fingering her, and despite her malaise she was more appreciative and enthusiastic than any time before.

Anastasia and I both loved it so much that I ate her to a second orgasm that was so intense that she almost passed out, and then I mounted her and carefully inserted my cock into her soaking wet vagina. She was too tired to participate much but it was clear that she was enjoying it immensely and when I came like a volcano she did too -- so intensely that she momentarily lost awareness. It was our most awesome night of sex ever, diminished only slightly when I had a fleeting image of Jane's pussy squeezing my cock as Anastasia was hit by her last orgasm.

# # #

When Anastasia and I returned to NYC I had a different outlook on life. Given how different that Calamity Jane (I never did find out her name) was from me, yet how thoroughly I had enjoyed her company (understatement of the decade), I was more open to others in work and in social situations. It surprised me when my new attitude helped me achieve at work, and enriched my life.

What also helped to enrich my life was that Anastasia and I started having sex sessions that lasted longer and were more varied and intense. In fact I do believe that Anastasia had the best night of her life when I ate her to two orgasms, we did back seat driver for the first time while I mauled her tits, and we topped it off with a doggy fuck. The smile on her face when, exhausted, we dropped off to sleep was heartwarming.

While I had always treated Anastasia well throughout our relationship, the guilt associated with my One Off motivated me to be even nicer to her. After a few months she noticed the difference and complimented me on it. By the time we had been back about four months I no longer thought of Calamity Jane hourly; now normally only about once a day.

Apparently the blissful relationship I had with Anastasia had fogged her brain a little because when she threw up one morning when she obviously wasn't sick she went to the OB/GYN. Only then did she realize that she had screwed up her birth control shot sequence and since she had recently changed doctors hadn't gotten a notification. While the fact that she was pregnant stressed her until we were together than night, after I swept her off her feet, told her how wonderful it was, and then proceeded to fuck her brains out, she embraced impending motherhood.

Things were really going well for me at work, because of our parents' wealth Anastasia was able to stop working and concentrate on our bambino, our sex life was at an all-time high since pregnancy enhanced her libido, and much of my guilt from my One Off had dissipated. Then, roughly nine months after our resort trip, I got an Instagram post.

How in the hell she found out how to contact me on Instagram I have no idea -- probably by going through my wallet and/or phone after she had fucked me to sleep -- but Calamity Jane, or whatever the fuck her name was, sent me a photo and text. The photo showed her (now with long brown hair, which made her face look even prettier) smiling while nursing a baby girl and her husband in the background also smiling. The text said "My husband doesn't know that he's sterile and this isn't his kid; don't tell him, and don't save this post; let it vanish after 24 hours. You sure do make nice babies -- thanks."

I almost passed out.

I was a nervous wreck for the first time in my life. I didn't know how the fuck to handle this. Everyone I knew -- especially Anastasia -- asked me if something was wrong. Of course I couldn't say "Oh I'm just trying to figure out how I feel about a woman I had a One Off with nine months ago just delivered my kid." I tried responding to the Instagram, just to find out what Jane's real name was, but the account had been deleted less than 24 hours after I had received the post.

Finally one Saturday afternoon when Anastasia was visiting her parents, getting ready for a baby shower, after an intense weightlifting session I had a come-to-Jesus meeting with myself. I told myself to man-up; that Jane wasn't asking me for anything, she was just informing me of something that I really should know; that I was going to devote everything I had to Anastasia and the child/children I was having with her; and that I just had to move on.

And I successfully did move on. My little girl with Anastasia -- who we called Carol, no more pretentious names in our family -- was a joy, my relationship with Anastasia was great on every level, she was pregnant with our second girl, we had moved to a suburb and were enjoying life there, my career was on track, and I rarely thought of my One Off. As you know, a "but" is coming, and a doozy it was.

I was in my office around 10:30 a. m. about twenty nine months since I had received the now suppressed Instagram post from Calamity Jane when my secretary buzzed me on the Intercom. "A Miss C. Jane is here to see you; she doesn't have an appointment."

I knew of no "C. Jane." I was racking my brain trying to think of who it might be when it hit me. "Oh God -- please no!" was my silent scream.

"Clark, are you still there?" my secretary asked. (I was now so not uptight or anal-retentive that I had the employees who worked for me call me by my middle name, Clark).

"Uh...yes...Stephanie; sorry I zoned out for a second. Please send her in."

Calamity Jane entered my office with a big smile on her face. While she still obviously had some body piercings, with long brunette hair she looked even better than when I saw her at the resort, now well over three years ago.

"How are you doing, Paul Bunyan?" she chuckled as she walked up to me while I was sitting behind my desk and gave my bicep a squeeze and me a kiss on the cheek, before taking a seat. "Why so flushed?" she giggled.

"Uh...maybe because I'm shocked to see you. We had a One Off -- remember; something that you carefully explained to me was something to be done, never repeated, and with no future contact," I replied in what I hoped was a stern voice, although to be honest I was probably too scared to be stern.

"Sorry about that," she responded, not looking sorry at all. "I needed a baby daddy once I found out that my husband was sterile, I was in my fertile period at the resort, and I really liked your looks and bearing. I thought 'why not,' and then everything seemed to fall into place when we had that food poisoning scare. I knew that the gods were smiling on me. I thought that we had a great time."

"Uh...well...a great time...uh...that's not the...point," I stuttered thinking back on that time which caused my male member to unconsciously salute. "Why are you here?"

"Well," she cooed, then got up from her chair, came around to mine, wheeled me around a little, and then sat on my lap, smiling when she felt my stiffy; "I need another bambino. If I don't get pregnant soon my husband is going to get himself checked and then find out that Susan isn't his. We can't have that, can we?" she chuckled, and then stuck her tongue in my ear. "I'm going to be in my most fertile period the middle of next week and will be in Boston. You have clients there -- I'm sure that you can work out a business trip on Wednesday or Thursday. I need a 'Two Off.'"

# # #

Once I returned from Boston, and confirmed after receipt of another fleeting Instagram post nine months later showing Calamity Jane (I still didn't even know her name) nursing her second little girl, I promised myself "As enjoyable as the 'Two Off' was, I swear there will be no 'Three Off!'"