A Slut Life Ch. 04

CHAPTER 4: THANK YOU, HAROLD

The resort proved to me what I should have already been prepared to believe without having taken that leap. My experiences at the resort quantified the excitement and satisfaction I was capable of giving and receiving. The situations I experienced while following my ex-husband Ryan's lead should have been sufficient. The eventual outcome was traumatic and confusing. The resort proved to me that I was not only strong enough as a woman to be my own person without a man but I could determine my own experiences and exert my own control. The initial experience with the single man, Adam, had been the clincher. I felt like I had stepped through a door of opportunity, a door with many new options available to me. I was anxious to see where this could take me but tentative about the unknown.

These were the thoughts that swam in my head on the flights and quiet times on the way home. They were constantly on the edges of my consciousness the next day as I went about the chores of returning home and, refreshed and newly determined, beginning the deliberate effort of securing a job to augment the alimony and divorce settlement. It was the very thoughts that had me standing at Mr. Swenson's door and lightly knocking. I was wearing t-shirt, shorts, and sandals.

Just as his door began opening, a young couple from down the hall appeared and approached. Given my intention, I became nervous about the image despite it being perfectly appropriate for any tenant to approach the complex manager.

I saw Harold look past me at the young couple and give them a nod of recognition before his eyes came back to me. "Mr. Swenson, could I have a moment of your time?" I tried to make it sound all business, which seemed to confuse Harold.

He held the door wide and stood to the side so I could pass. I stopped a few steps inside his apartment without taking much note of its layout or appearance and turned as I heard the door close behind me. I turned and stepped into him. My sudden move surprised him in likely several ways and stepped reflexively back but bumped into the closed door.

"Teresa?"

I shushed him as I rose up on my toes and covered his mouth with mine. It was calculated. I felt we had a certain connection from our earlier talk ... and more by his resort recommendation. I spoke through lips touching his, "I am going to thank you, Harold." My fingers worked at the belt and snap of his cargo shorts. "And, I want you to let me do it."

He took a deep breath and held it, his chest expanded, his body tensed, as my fingers slid the zipper down. Only then did I pull my lips from his as I turned my head to look down as my hand left his shorts and moved under the waistband of his underwear. When my fingers encountered his penis, I looked up into his eyes with a hungry, satisfied smile. It swelled in my touch. His eyes reflected uncertainty, nervousness, and a look that suggested an improbability of experience. He might have been stunned, but he didn't speak, he didn't protest, and he didn't push me away.

I sank to my knees before him and, as I did, I pulled his tighty whities over his hips to his ankles to join his shorts. My mouth opened as my hand grasped his hardening cock and pointed it out to meet my mouth. My lips first kissed the head, then my tongue came out to lick all around it, then down the shaft, back up at which point my mouth encased his cock head. I sucked on it, pushed forward to take more into my mouth, and was rewarded by a series of gasps and sighs from above.

His hand rested lightly on the top of my head. He wasn't encouraging my head one way or the other, either to suck deeper or to push me away. He seemed to just want to touch me, some part of me. He moaned, then, "Oh ... Teresa ... what are ... why ... oh, it feels so ... goooood."

His feet shifted for support and his body seemed to sag more firmly against the door. He grunted and gasped. I felt his hips jerk. His cock in my mouth was stiff ... rigid in my mouth. I pressed firmly over his cock and pressed the head just into my throat. He gasped louder. One of his hands pressed suddenly against the door behind him so hard it sent a smacking sound to be mixed with his groans and moans and the slurping of my mouth over his cock.

When both his hands were on my head and his hips jerk toward me sending his cock deeper into my mouth and throat, I squeezed his balls, raised my mouth to the head and sucked like a vacuum. I was rewarded with a first spurt of cum into my mouth and was followed by several more as I sucked hard to extract all I could from him.

I licked his cock for any stray bits of cum that had escaped my mouth. I then stood, pulled him against me from the door and shifted him to the side and pressed him into the adjoining wall of the small entry. He looked dazed ... stunned. His eyes searched mine as if to find some tell as to why this had just happened. I gave him a peck on the lips while stroking his exposed, softening cock.

"Tonight. My apartment at 7:00. Dinner. I will explain." I turned the door knob. I had placed him so the door opening would hide him. I turned back to him, "And you have explaining to do, too." I left without giving him time to respond.

* * * *

A knock on the door and I checked the clock on the stove. Right on time ... 7:00 PM.

I smiled as I wiped my hands, dropped the towel on the kitchen counter and walked in my heels to the door ready to stun him a second time. I opened the door and held it wide.

"Oh my God ... Teresa ... what ... what's going on?"

Harold Swenson was standing at the open door smartly dressed in pressed dark slacks and button-up short-sleeved white shirt. He was holding two bottles of wine. I stood before him boldly in a white sheer baby-doll negligee with a single tie in front so it gapped open both between my breasts and my stomach. I also wore sheer white thong and white strap sandal 4 inch heels.

He entered my apartment, perhaps a bit nervous someone might see him with a nearly naked renter. He managed to only stammer, "Teresa ... what ... what is ... all this?"

I back up until the door could close, then stepped into him and gave him a better kiss on the lips than the peck I gave him hours before. His lips were yielding but his stunned reaction allowed little response.

"I told you. I intended to thank you."

"But ... earlier ... wasn't that ...?"

He robotically offered the wine. One was a Merlot; the other a Chardonnay already chilled. I thanked him and handed him back the white wine. "Don't be silly. That was the appetizer to the thank you." His eyes were traveling over my exposed body. "I wasn't entirely honest or forthcoming before. The resort opened my eyes."

I had the table set with us sitting across from each other across the short distance of the rectangular table. I wanted to always be in his line of sight. All through dinner I sat straight, deliberately so to expose my breasts and upper body underneath the flimsy material of the gown. I confessed to him what had truly and fully been bothering me when we had talked before, what was behind the divorce, how complying with my husband's wishes had changed me, and how it had exposed his inadequacy in handling the changes he initiated. I fell silent, finally, and he watched me. But I saw more than him just considering me, he was appraising me ... and not just me by my words but me ... his eyes appraising my exposed body ... and ... I think ... something more. It was that appraisal I saw in him that led me to ask the question I had struggled with.

"Now ... Harold ... why did you choose to recommend a small, secluded resort with a nudity tolerance? And, why had you gone there given what you've been struggling with?"

After a moment of reflection, "First ... Teresa, I have a follow-up. You said the resort opened your eyes, how so?"

I told him. It was a succinct recap but it was a rundown of Adam, the couple, and Jason and Michael while still eluding to more. I was blushing at the end. My confession of the times of being shared by Ryan seemed historical when I mentioned them, this was still very fresh and impactful. He was watching me carefully, I could feel my nipples harden and my pussy lubricate as I recounted the experiences of the resort. All the while I wondered why he asked and why I was divulging so much and in so much detail except that it somehow seemed right and appropriate and necessary. I felt like a slut on the trip, hooking up with random people, enjoying the open sex and exhibitionism, and realized it was what I still wanted. I didn't want it to be just a vacation adventure, I wanted it to be a part of me ... somehow.

I released it all so boldly and shamelessly. I was flushed, even my breathing became ragged, and I took deep breaths to calm myself and that highlighted my exhibited breasts to him more. I rose from the table, forgetting my own question to him, and went to the counter for the other bottle of wine. I opened it and brought it to the table with new glasses for the red. As I poured for him, he caused me to stop in mid motion. As I stood next to him, he reached up, took hold of the small ties of the gown and pulled them. The gown released at the single point of closure and gaped open. I was still bent over but stopped pouring as his hand moved inside the fabricate and cupped a breast hanging next to him. I sucked in a deep breath, closed my eyes tight as the feeling of being fondled coursed through me. I steadied myself, my heart beating fast, his hand caressing from one to the other of my breasts, then sliding from my breasts to my bare butt cheeks and somehow finished pouring his wine.

As his finger slipped under the string of the thong running between my cheeks, I returned to my side of the table. When I poured my own wine, I was very aware that the gown parted to fully expose my right breast. It was only a bit more additional exposure but still somehow meaningful.

"You are an exceedingly lovely and exotic woman, Teresa." That was how he began his answer to my earlier question. "You are the kind of woman that turns a man's head, makes it difficult to forget having seen or known you. I knew more about you than I let on when we talked." He went on to say that an old friend of his and his son came to visit after golf. While entering the building, I came through. Holding the door politely for me, the son asked if he knew my name. He told him and the son nodded with an unusual smile on his face. Harold later pushed the son and he confided, away from his father, that he was one of the men my husband set me up with. I barely noticed them and certainly didn't recognize him but the comment stayed with Harold. So, when we talked, he had a much better understanding of my conflict than I had divulged to him. His suggestion of the resort and his choosing the resort to begin with were the same: he thought I would find what I was looking for there because he had found it there, also. He had wanted to finally move on from his dead wife. Not forget her but become whole again. He met women there who convinced him he could move on and still enjoy life.

"I figured, if it could have that effect on me, the resort would be perfect to guide you back to what you desired. Even though you didn't share what the change was your husband encouraged, you did share that you desired and wanted the changes that occurred. Already having a little idea what they probably were, I gambled."

I rose from my chair, clutched my glass and the bottle to my body and put out my hand to him. "Which is why I now desire to thank you."

He nervously allowed me to lead him to the bedroom, but then stopped. "Teresa ... I ... I didn't expect ... I didn't bring a condom." He seemed embarrassed to even say it. But it brought a smile to my face. The concern for me at that moment ... a real gentleman.

I set the glass and bottle on the side table and slid the gown off my shoulders as I stepped up to him. "Dear Harold, you'd need more than one condom." My eyes were glazed with lust for him as I wrapped my arms around his neck and covered his lips with mine. His free hand settled on my bare back and softly glided up and down as the kiss became mutually urgent. I pulled back, finally, and smiled, "Besides, I'm protected and I want to feel you."

He was quite nervous. "Teresa, I ... I ... I'm old enough ... to ..."

I took his glass and set it by mine. I began to unbutton his shirt, reached up on my toes to kiss him, again. "You are old enough to guide me, to help me, and you did that." I opened his shirt and kissed his chest and bent over to kiss his stomach. I rose and slid the shirt over his shoulders and down his arms. "I think I found myself, again, at the resort and ..." my hands went to his belt as I sank down to my knees before him, "... and I have you to thank for it." I looked up as I lowered his zipper and a hand pressed against his cock under his underwear. "You wouldn't deny me to properly thank you?" I helped him out of his shoes and socks. I looked back up as I dropped his slacks. "My husband wanted a hotwife. He got one. He didn't understand what that meant. He couldn't handle it." I help him step out of his slacks. "The resort exposed something to me." I caught his eyes as I pulled his shorts down. He gasped and moaned. I held his hardened cock and kissed the head in front of me. "How can I be a hotwife if I'm not a wife any longer?" I slid my mouth over his cock and he groaned deeply. "I don't know the implication of all the possible terms, Harold, but if I can't be a hotwife without being a wife... for me to move forward would that make me a slut?"

I thrust my mouth over his cock for several minutes, stopped, kissed the head, and stood up with a hand stroking his cock. I looked him in the eyes as I backed to the bed, leading him by the cock. "I am happy with that. I am happy to be a slut and I will discover what the means for me. You, Harold ... I want you to christen this new me. You saw me but you held my honor. You just set me on a path for me to make my own discovery. You are a wonderful man, Harold."

I crawled backwards on the bed. I lay back and opened my legs. I reached out to him. Watching him as he crawled on his knees to me, I was taken by the stark difference of his aging body and the much younger men on the resort but the feeling was still intense within me. It wasn't the body's appearance but what the body could do and there was nothing wrong with the hard cock bobbing below Harold as he made his way between my outstretched legs.

When he hovered over me, I pulled his face down to mine. I kissed him and he responded hungrily. Our mouths opened for our tongue to probe each other. His bare chest crushed my breasts and I could feel his hard cock against my clit and pussy as he maintained enough separation there to slide his cock over my wet slit, parting my lips but not entering me, and gliding over my stimulate clit. Harold had experience, he had enjoyed sex and the nuances of it I could tell. His hard cock teased me as it glided over and parted my pussy lips. Occasionally, his cock head would touch my hole and I sucked in a breath in anticipation of being penetrated but he would shift, rotate his hips and his cock would glide along my lips, again.

I moaned and mumbled into his mouth, "I want you."

He pulled back an inch, maybe less. Our lips still touching. "I'm right here."

I groaned, "Inside ... I want you inside."

I felt his smile on my lips. GOD ... this was different. The other men ... the men Ryan shared me with ... the men at the resort ... I was fucked, taken, as if afraid the opportunity would pass, perhaps. This ... this was so different. Even Ryan had come to merely fuck me in the stimulation of having shared me with another, eager to claim his turn. This ... OH GOD ... this ... he ... Harold was so different, as if the awkwardness of my presentation had passed and his acceptance and comfort reflected a confidence the other men hadn't achieved.

I panted the words again into his mouth, "Please ... inside ... inside me ... I need you ... inside me ..."

His elbows were alongside me. His hands cupping my face as we kissed but he moved, rotated, and shifted his pelvis and his hard cock dipped along my pussy lips until it was pressing near my hole. I gasped at the feeling that his cock was homing in on my hole as if with an action of its own. My breath was caught in my throat as I his lips and tongue continued against mine but all my senses were riveted on the feeling of his cock head poised at my hole. With a smooth rotation of his hips, his cock slid inside. I pulled his upper body into mine and moaned a guttural response as it slowly moved inside. He pulled back a bit and pressed back in, moving deeper.

"OH GOD, Harold ... yessss ... yes, yes, yessssss."

He raised his upper body, lowered his head to kiss and nipple at my nipples as his hips began moving in smooth strokes, his cock gliding in and out through my very wet and clasping pussy. I stare up at him with a lusty smile. It was so unexpected and wonderfully exciting. I had come to expect being fucked, a physical only need, that I found his gentle, caring, and considerate attention and appreciation was very erotic and arousing.

I gazed up into his eyes as he plunged his cock smoothly and deeply into me. He watched me in return as he varied his speed and depth and rhythm. It was as if our eyes were having an unspoken conversation and part of that communication was out bodies. I clamped my pussy around his cock, rotated my pelvis, raised my hips and wrapped my legs around him in varying motions and combination to provide different sensations and contacts.

He was in no hurry. A confidence of belonging came through from him. He fucked me but it was different and found myself relaxed and enjoying this man inside me, this man so much older than the others. A smile broke out when I felt him roll us to the side and I happily went with it, adjusting my position until I was kneeling over him. My hands went to my head and through my long hair as I settled down over his cock in this position, feeling him deeper, his hands coming up to cup my breasts and fondle them. I rose and fell on his cock and looked down at him. He had a soft smile on his face.

"You're an amazing woman, Teresa." He pressed his hips up to meeting my downward movement and we both sighed. "Your body is real, mature but still firm, with real curves, not the grace of youth or starving diet control. Men love a body like yours but I am sure you found that at the resort, didn't you?"

As I fucked up and down on his cock, I leaned forward, my breasts, those mature breasts he said he admired, hung down and swung with my motion and he grabbed them, again. "Did you recommend that for some confidence boost?"

He smiled and thrust up into me, "I hoped in two ways: to feel admired; and, to get fucked." He pinched both nipples as he gazed into my eyes. "Both happened ... yes?" I nodded. I fucked harder, faster. "You came back with new confidence." I nodded and moved faster. "You came back and understood the direction you wanted to move."

I cried out and fucked him urgently, taking over suddenly in desperate need. My breasts swayed and bounced as I drove down onto him. He moaned and gasped, too. "Yes ... yessss ... I knew I could ... should ... and will move ... forward. I like being ... a hotwife. I will be ... a slut ... to feel ... the same ... things."

My declaration seemed to herald our orgasms. I fell forward to my hands braced alongside him as our hips flew aggressively against each other, my hair cascaded over my face as my head sagged and my body began convulsing. My arms quaked and he pulled me against his body and wrapped me into his arms with my face in his neck and shoulder as his cock emptied into me as my pussy spasmed around it, my cries of release muffled into his shoulder.