An Extraordinary Couple Pt. 01

AUTHOR'S NOTE: For several years, a friend and I made the rounds, living out some pretty terrific encounters. These stories are fictionalized accounts of what made life so much fun for her and me. I start somewhere in the middle. Maybe in a later chapter, we'll go back to the beginning. Enjoy. Be in touch...

*****

Makati, Philippines

I

They were an extraordinary couple. Many found it impossible not to stop and glance, or stare, their faces expressing all the same thoughts: admiration, curiosity, envy.

Of the two, the man was taller, although not excessively tall. In fact, most of the men watching him were taller than he. The woman was short, and her diminutive stature made him seem taller than he was. His head was shaven, and he wore a slight, devilish wisp of whiskers on his chin, below a fuller, trimmed mustache. His eyes were dazzling blue, set beneath perfectly masculine eyebrows. He could frighten you when he wore sunglasses, which gave his face a mysteriously roguish, even mean quality that intimidated some men. But as he walked through the mall, his arm hanging casually around the woman's shoulder, his eyes were bright and magnetic.

So was the bulge in his pants. He wore no underwear and never made an effort to hide the snaky cock that pushed out against the fabric of his trousers. They weren't tight. That would have been obscene. But he allowed nature to advertise itself, and he knew always that men and women both wondered just what it might be like if only they could see. If only they could...

As they walked, the woman laughed at the joke the man whispered in her ear. She was herself enviable. Her hair hung wavy and black somewhat below her shoulders. If it fell in the front, it would lay along the slopes of her breasts: round, high, and exquisitely firm. She was trim, athletic, confident—qualities she shared with the man she walked beside. Another joke made her laugh louder, and he dropped his arm from her shoulder and playfully slapped her on the small but irresistible ass that every man in the mall was in love with.

They found a café and took seats in the back. He sat facing the door, as he always did. They had cups of coffee but showed no interest in drinking any. Their conversation never waned; it only transitioned from laughter to something else. There was laughter now, but less of it, and mostly hers. They talked on, and customers around them often gave them glances, or eavesdropped outright until a long but harmless look from the man ended the surveillance.

It was not by any means their first time together, nor their first conversation, but the theme was familiar. It was what they loved about one another.

-What was he like?

-Haha... Nice.

-Just nice?

-Haha... Nice and big. Hahahaha...

-And you met him in his room?

-Yes.

-Why did you go there?

-He wanted me to.

-And you do what men want?

-Yes.

-And why did he want you to go to his room?

-To fuck him.

-For you to fuck him?

-To fuck me.

-He wanted to fuck you?

-Yes.

-Did you want that.

-Yes.

-Did he fuck you?

-Yes.

-Did he get pussy?

-Yes.

-Did you give him pussy?

-Yes.

-Did you ride over there, in your cab, knowing you would give him pussy?

-Yes.

-Do they get pussy whenever they want it?

-Yes.

-Who does?

-Anyone.

The man stood up. The cock that had mesmerized so many when it was soft now made the shape of a sword in his pants. It aimed to the left, forced slightly down angle by the fit of the fabric against his skin. He walked to the front of the café, to the service area. He took napkins he did not need and walked back to the table. The woman had turned when he left and watched him come and go. She watched the other women watch him. When he got back to the table he laid the napkins down and headed for the bathroom.

His partner did not watch him go in. She looked instead back across the café, noting the women who refused to take their eyes of him until he disappeared inside the men's room. When the door closed, most giggled to a companion or went back to reading. Two did not. One looked like a student, maybe in her twenties. She was ignored. The other was not ignored. The woman at the back table got up and walked toward the front of the café.

The second woman, who had let herself linger on the memory of the man, looked up and saw the man's partner coming toward her. When she arrived, she slid into a chair and stared at the curious stranger across from her. She smiled.

-It's okay.

-What's okay.

-If you want to go in there, with him.

Embarrassed, the woman looked around the café. Who might have heard that? The man's partner didn't bother to look anywhere but at the nervous woman across from her.

-Go ahead.

-But... what are you talking about?

Mild laughter.

-He's in there now, holding it.

The woman looked around again. This time she said nothing, only looked back across the table with an expression of disbelief. The man's partner spoke again.

-He's holding it, waiting.

-Waiting for what?

-For you.

-But I don't know wha-

-Don't you?

The man's partner took the plastic cup that was set in front of the woman. She sucked a long drink, her lips full round the shaft of the straw.

-Go. I would, but I already know.

-Already know what?

-What you want to know.

-But... I don't know you.

-I'm Helen. Hi.

The woman started to smile but caught herself. Her eyes tried hard to look incredulous. She looked around again, then back across the table. Her lips parted and she wetted them with her tongue. She didn't k now she had.

She lowered her voice now, barely above a whisper.

-You won't care? Is he your-

-He's yours right now. Have you ever seen one like tha-

-NO!

-I know. Then why wonder?

Helen took another long drink from the straw and set the cup down. Then she got up and went back to her table, her back to the rest of the café.

She heard soft footsteps. The woman went slowly by her and stopped at the men's room door. It was locked. She turned. Helen raised a small fist and made a knocking motion, then held up one finger. The woman at the door hesitated, but knocked once softly. The door knob clicked as it turned. The door opened slightly, and the woman walked in, never looking back.

Helen took the coffee cups to the trash and left the café.

II

-Turn the light on.

He heard the woman's hand sliding along the wall, searching. The light came on. Helen had been right. He was standing in the center of a spacious rest room, his pants open, his left hand around the base of his cock.

-Oh, god!

He moved a step toward her, reached out, and pulled her by a hand. As soon as she was in front of him, he moved her to her knees and pulled her mouth to the head. She reached behind, grabbed both his ass cheeks and started sucking as fast and as wet as she could.

-You were curious, and you looked, didn't you?

She gurgled and slurped but managed to answer him.

-YES!

-And you thought Helen was lying about you coming in here.

-YES!

-And now you're glad she wasn't.

She managed a complete sentence among the gurgling and the slurping.

-Oh, god, YES! YES!

He grabbed her head and fucked her face. She opened as deeply and as wide as she could. Her hands fell to her sides. She was passive, and passionate... but passive, most of all. She gave in to it.

-Look at me.

She did, moving her eyes up to his. The sight of his face—his flared nostrils, his intent eyes, his muscular face contracting and relaxing as he breathed—it sent a flood into her underwear an she moaned like a slave whore. She was happy to be one.

-You do it now.

He wasn't finished ordering her when her hands flew to his cock and she felt every slippery stream of saliva she had left there. She sucked faster, slurping, licking, looking, jacking it off.

-Faster!

She did what he wanted. He reached down and grabbed a nipple through her blouse, forcing a grunt from her, then a moan when he twisted it just enough. She was his type, his type for this. She was in her forties, maybe closer to fifty. She was curvy, with tits he loved—fleshy, big, full. She was a woman, not a poster model or a pub princess. He liked them because by now they were bored with life or bored with sex. They were sticks of dynamite and just as indiscriminate, if you put them in the right place and right frame of mind. There was nothing left for them to learn, except that they had fewer limits than they ever imagined they had.

He leaned over her and reached down, inside her bra, grabbing two full hands of tit now. He kneaded them, pulled them, ran his thumbs roughly around her nipples. Her moans were guttural now, and she clamped her lips down on his cock. Faster, and faster...

-It's big, baby. Stop and look at it.

She popped her mouth off and leaned back. She held one hand around it, still jacking off the length of it, staring at it, while it pointed at her, at eye level.

-You like sucking it?

-Yes!

-Jack it off, faster!

She did, her lips pursing, her eyes hungry.

-Is your pussy wet?

-It's fucking wet!

-Maybe one day I'll fuck you, honey.

-Mm-hmmmm!

She jacked it off faster and she smiled, mischievously, up at him.

-Ever swallow?

-Never.

-You will now.

She grunted and smiled bigger.

-And you want to, don't you.

-Oh, god, I do! Make me drink it, baby!

-Get ready, bitch!

She grunted again, consenting, like a pig and a whore and a disciple. It is possible to be all three and be perfect, and perfectly good.

She devoured the head and slurped the shaft and he no longer had to tell her to go faster. She was deep on him and gripping his ass with the hand that was not jacking off that veiny white sculpture of a cock.

-It's cumming, honey. Here comes your first fucking load! Take it! TAKE IT!

She opened her throat and felt the first stream, then the flood. She winced and let out a small cough, but determined to go the distance, she bore down, sucking now as Helen has on the straw earlier. She wrapped her lips tight and savored every squirt and river he pumped into her. When he was nearly done he pulled her head deeper and fucked it all into her as long as she let him. She never backed away.

Done, he pulled out and left it at her face. Half hard now, it arced downward, hitting her chin. She looked up at him, compliant.

-Come to the sink and wash me.

She did, stroking soap and water on it, letting it rest heavy in her bottom hand. He was surprised she was able to talk to him.

-It's so big and beautiful.

-Thank you.

-Can I wash it more?

-Go ahead.

She applied another round of soapy lather and started again, from base to head and back, staring at it.

-I never did anyth-

-I know, but are you sorry you did?

-No. I want more.

-I'll look for you here next time.

They finished. He kissed her cheek. He left first, standing in front of the door so she could slink away behind him, into the ladies' room. In the café, he wrote his phone number on a napkin and slid it under the door of the rest room. He added a heart and an exclamation point. Then he left to meet Helen.