February Sucks - Leap Night

"How often do you go out looking for..., er..., company for the night?" I had no idea why I was suddenly getting shy after what we had already shared.

"In the off-season like now, I go out a few times a week to different clubs. I don't always bring girls home, but I do sometimes. This big house gets lonely. I do have some regular girls that I can call as well," he said without apology or explanation.

"What about married women, like me?" I asked.

He smiled sheepishly. "I guess it happens every few times. I have a thing for married women. I guess it goes back to when I was in college."

I was genuinely curious when I asked, "Why?"

Marc looked like he was thinking back to a far-away time. "There was a booster -- an older guy that was a huge football fan and gave big money to the athletic department. He made his money in the stock market somehow, I think. Part of what he got was free access to the players. He would hang around practice and come into the locker room -- stuff like that."

"One of the things he would do is to invite players over to his house. He had this big mansion on a farm outside of town with a pool, and he had four wheelers that we could ride and stuff. We pretty much could come and go from his property whenever we wanted."

"The guy had this wife -- she was probably in her early 40s at the time -- and she liked to hang around with the players. For some reason, she took a liking to me when I was a freshman."

Linda thought she knew why the wife took a liking to Marc's physical features, but she let him continue.

"I was red-shirting, so I wasn't traveling with the team," Marc continued. "When they were out of town, a few teammates and I would go over to the house and hang out by the pool. One Saturday, the husband traveled with the team when we had a nationally televised Saturday night game, so the plane wouldn't get back until three or four in the morning."

"The other guys wanted to get back to campus for the game parties, so they left early. I was cleaning up some of the empty glasses and cans around the pool when the wife came out in the littlest bikini I had ever seen in person. It was pretty clear what she was after."

"She came up and kissed me hard and wrapped one leg around me to pull her body close. My hands started roaming over body, and she didn't stop me, so I kept going. She took me by the hand, led me upstairs, and we fucked until the wee hours of the morning, in all kinds of ways. It was heady stuff for a small-town kid away from home for the first time. After that, it became a regular thing. Whenever I could get out to the farm, I was out there. Sometimes I would just swim and play with his toys, sometimes his wife and I would fuck each other until we couldn't walk."

"It was quite a sexual education. She liked to do everything, and she was willing to teach a kid like me what kinds of things got her off. We would fuck in every way possible, and she would give me money and gifts that made a 'struggling college student's' life easier."

"After her, the college age girls were just too vanilla. I got my fair share of college pussy, but nothing matched the experience of a more mature woman. Plus, it added to the thrill that she was married. So, that's where I acquired my taste for married women."

I rubbed his chest and stretched up to kiss him on the lips. "Well, right now I'm glad that you developed that taste." His arm squeezed me closer to his side.

"When did you develop your pick-up method?" I asked. "That takes some balls."

"Yeah, I guess it does," he said sheepishly. "All through college, I had access to the booster's wife, and she kept me plenty busy, so I didn't have to pick up any women. The college girls really weren't any challenge. I was drafted after my junior season and had to move here. So, then it was like I was cut off. I could still find college girls or groupies in bars, but they didn't satisfy my interest in hot married women."

"Late in my rookie season, we were playing in Denver on a Thursday night. Just before halftime, a huge snowstorm settled in that was dropping an inch and a half of snow an hour, and the winds picked up. By the time the game was over, the airport was closed, and we had to spend an extra night in the hotel. I was taking Ritalin at the time during games to help my focus, so I couldn't sleep. At about two in the morning, I went down to the hotel bar just because I was sick of lying there looking at the ceiling while my roommate snored away."

"The bar was almost empty, so I got a beer and sat in a booth where I could see the TVs. This older guy in a suit recognized me, brought his drink over, and asked if he could join me. He seemed harmless, so I said, 'Sure.'"

"We chatted about nothing in particular -- you know, the weather, the highlights on TV, stuff like that. All at once he asked, 'Want to hear a crazy story?'"

"I said, 'Sure,' and he proceeded to tell me about a conversation he was part of after a conference a few years before. He said that the women at the table, all apparently happily married, said they would fuck a hot celebrity if they had the chance, whether their husbands were there or not. I thought he was shittin' me, but he swore it was absolutely true."

'That's unbelievable,' I thought, before I realized the hypocrisy.

Marc continued, "So, after the season was over, I was at a club, and there was a group of married women on a girls' night out. I started dancing with them, and they all were having fun getting attention from the celebrity. I remembered what the salesman said, so I picked the one that had been grinding the most on my thigh and pressing her mound on my erection and just said, 'Do you want to get out of here?'"

"Without hesitating, she said, 'Fuck yeah! Let me get my coat.' I told her to meet me by the back door and away she went back to the table. As soon as I got to the door, here she came with a huge smile on her face."

"We went back to the apartment I had at the time and had two great fucks. She said she had to get back to the club so her husband wouldn't find out, so I let her shower quickly, and I took her back. From that time on, I've tried to pick up married women when I could. It doesn't always work, but enough to make it worth the try, and I can always pick up a college chick if I get shot down."

"When did you start picking up women with their husbands there?" I inquired.

"I stayed with women on girls' nights for quite a while, but the salesman's story was that the women would go whether their husband was there or not. One night, I was out, and there was this gorgeous woman, a lot like you, dancing with her husband. They took a break, but she was clearly ready for more, so I went over and asked her to dance. She jumped up, and we danced three or four songs, the last one a slow dance."

"She was pressed against me, and she clearly was enjoying rubbing against my hard-on, so I asked if she would leave with me. She thought really hard, but in the end said, 'No, I can't. My husband is here.' Even though she didn't leave with me, her hesitation told me she was close, so I tried again a few weeks later, and that woman said yes. They don't say yes as often as they do when they are by themselves, but I still do OK."

Somehow, I wasn't offended by Marc's game. I had a flash of guilt that I wasn't as strong as the first wife he tried, but I was still flattered that he chose me out of a room full of beautiful women.

"So, when do you have to leave?" he asked.

"Well, my husband is probably pissed that I left. I'm not sure if he went back to the hotel or if he went home, so I should give him as much time to cool off as possible." With that, I rolled all the way on top of Marc and began to kiss him hard and with as much tongue as I could give him. "I guess it's 'In for a penny -- in for a pound,' I giggled.

He returned the kiss, and his big, strong hands began to stroke, caress, and massage my back, butt, and thighs once again. His arms could reach around so that his fingers could tickle my pussy lips and flutter across my sensitive ass.

I rose up on my hands and knees and looked down between our bodies at his still limp cock. "What do we have to do to get your friend to come out and play?" I asked.

"Well, that blowjob you gave me a while ago was wonderful," he said with a cheeky gleam in his eye.

With that, I grinned and began to slither down his body, kissing as I went. I kissed his ear, and down his neck to his shoulders. I kissed down his chest and licked and nipples standing proudly atop his impressive pecs. I kissed across his washboard stomach to his belly button. When I buried my tongue in his navel, he giggled and jerked, and my tits fell on either side of his cock. Even limp it was an impressive lump lying between my globes.

I continued to slide down Marc's body, kissing down toward his groin. I kissed through his wiry pubic hair, reveling in the musky smell of his body, until I was facing his beautiful member lying loose and hanging straight down between his legs. I licked along the top and could taste the tart combination of our juices from our earlier encounter. His slight moan encouraged me, so I picked it up, looking directly at the beautiful, helmet-shaped head, and then, looking him right in the eyes, slurped as much of his cock into my mouth as I could.

Marc rolled his head back and closed his eyes as a "Mmmngh!" escaped his lips. I smiled around the cock in my mouth, pleased with myself that an ordinary wife and mother like me could give pleasure to someone so famous and with so much sexual experience.

The blowjob got wetter and wetter as I bobbed my head up and down that beautiful rod. My right hand stroked the base of his shaft, while my left hand fondled his beautiful, shaved sack, and I could feel the weight of the balls pressing on the shining rings on my finger. Marc's head began to slowly swell in my mouth, and I looked forward to feeling the power of his glorious pipe to provide me pleasure again soon.

Marc pulled me up and asked, "How do you want it this time?

"From behind," I responded breathlessly. "I want to feel it hard and deep."

Mark smiled and positioned me on all fours at the edge of the bed. He reached over to the bedside table and got a palm full of the coconut oil. He rubbed his whole hand across my pussy lips, slathering the now cool liquid across the opening of my yearning pussy, and then he stroked his dick to coat it with the slippery fluid.

He stepped behind me, and I could feel the heat from his body radiate across my buttocks. He rubbed the head up and down, tickling my clitoris and spreading the lubrication around my lips. In my impatience, I tried to lean back on his member, but Marc held my hips steady while he positioned the head at my opening.

He leaned forward slightly, and the sensation of his shaft entering me was almost as intense as it was the first time. "Nnggrrugh," I groaned as I leaned back to take the full length into my longing pussy.

Marc held me there as I twitched around the length and girth of his shaft. As my mini orgasm subsided, he pulled back slightly and then pushed back in until his hips pressed against the cheeks of my ass. He pulled out a little farther and pushed back in with a little more force, his hips making a quiet clap as he hit bottom. Each stroke pulled out a little farther and drove back in with a little more force, each impact getting louder, until he was just leaving the head in me on the outstroke and driving in so hard on the instroke that a shock wave rippled through the muscle of my ass and his heavy sack swung forward to slap against my clit. As we gained our rhythm, my tits were swinging forward and back, and I was pushing to meet his thrusts to make each one as hard and deep as I could stand.

I was losing control as he impaled me again and again on that magnificent shaft. "Oh, god, please, Marc, don't stop!" I wailed as the exquisite punishment continued. The smacking of the impact of his muscular body was mixed with a slurping sound of his cock pistoning in and out of my sodden pussy.

He began to pull harder on my hips, driving me down on that magnificent shaft deeper and more forcefully as we fucked with abandon. The unintelligible sounds returned to my throat, and I lost the ability to control my arms. My face dropped down to the bed, and my tits raked across the folds of the now wrinkled bed sheets, sending shocks of pleasure emanating from my nipples that crashed into those coming from my pussy.

Marc continued to pound me as a huge orgasm ripped through my body. I lost all control of my movement. My legs were quivering; my arms were flailing around and grasping at the sheets; the muscles in my body were alternately contracting making me arch my back up like a frightened cat with my face pressed into the mass of sheets, and then arch my back down with my head thrown back in ecstasy and my hair flicking my upturned ass. All of this happened in cycles that I couldn't control and didn't want to end.

Through all of this, Marc's strong hands held my hips steady so that my pussy was a stationary target for that wonderful arrow aimed at it. Its rhythmic invasion of my very soul continued as I flailed in exquisite pleasure.

Just when I thought it couldn't feel any better, I felt Marc's cock twitch and swell, and his pace increased. Suddenly, I was aware of guttural, feral sounds emanating from deep within his throat. Just as his cadence began to falter, I was struck by another orgasm that released a flood from my overwhelmed pussy and pushed me forward until I was spread-eagle on the bed with my arms and legs flailing around uncontrollably.

Marc's magnificent cock followed me forward, and his orgasm caught up to his tremendous pace as his weight fell on me from behind. I could feel the pulsing of his organ within me as he filled me with a second massive load.

I was panting, and I was soaked with sweat, and my hair stuck to may face and neck. I could feel Marc's breath on my ear as he tried to regain his composure. Suddenly, he lifted himself up on his arms.

"I'm sorry, Linda! Are you OK? I didn't mean to put my full weight on you like that." Fortunately, he left that beautiful member embedded in my still vibrating pussy.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," I gasped. "That was unbelievable! It might have been better than the first time!"

He dropped his head to kiss the back of my shoulder, an area I never thought was particularly erogenous, but every nerve ending in my body was sensitized, so it felt like a shock.

"For someone that's 'fine,' you look like a mess!" he laughed. "Of course, I probably don't look much better. You really put me through it!"

I was pleased that my body could give someone like Marc a sexual workout and so much pleasure.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"No," I replied, "but if we don't move soon, they'll find us stuck here!"

Marc laughed, and I felt the pressure of his hips reduce on my butt. My pussy twitched as his still partially erect member began to slide out. An involuntary groan escaped my lips as the head slid over my G-spot, and my cunt contracted as if it were trying to hold him inside me. As the head popped out, a flood of our mixed juices flowed down to puddle on the bed and mix with my tuft of pubic hair, and I felt the emptiness in the space he once occupied.

Marc gently laid on his side next to me, and his gently stroked up and down my back. I turned my head to look at him, and his hair was soaked with sweat and plastered to his forehead. His eyes sparkled, and a beautiful smile was firmly planted on his handsome face.

I was still breathing hard, but Marc's trained body was recovering quickly. He jumped up off the bed and went back over to the bar. This time, I could see his cock swinging loosely between his legs. He grabbed two more bottles of water. He walked to the other side of the bed, closer to my head, and sat down on the edge.

"You've worked hard! You probably need a drink," he said, opening the bottle for me.

I rolled up on one arm and took a long swig of the cool liquid. "That tastes good. Thanks."

"Do you need to use the restroom?" he asked me.

"No. Right now, I think I just need a drink," I replied, tipping my bottle to him.

"I need to go in there for a few minutes. If you decide you need to go, there's another restroom across the living room next to the bar. Feel free to look around."

Marc kissed me on my sweaty forehead and padded back across the room. The bathroom light was the brightest light I had seen since we left the club, and it momentarily blinded me as he shut the door.

I swung my legs around so that I could sit. I piled up the pillows to make a back rest against the headboard, and I looked around the room. The furnishings were clean, modern, and spartan, just what you would expect for a young, single male with plenty of money available. Some interior designer probably made a fortune.

I looked down across my body. I could see my hair stuck to the sweat above my breasts as drops ran down between them. My chest was still rising and falling trying to recover from the physical ordeal I had just put my body through. My pubic hair was matted with Marc's cum, and I could see the softball sized wet spot soaking the sheets where I had been lying.

I drank about half my water, and I had the urge to look around. I slid off the edge of the bed, but stepped carefully onto the floor, unsure whether my legs would really hold me. When I was sure, I gently eased down (I hadn't realized that the bed was so high) and walked out into the living room, a cool trickle of thick liquid running down my inner thighs.

Where the marina across the lake was brightly lit when I first saw it, now only a few lights could be seen, and the bar above was completely dark. The moon was no longer visible, but it must have been high in the sky because I could see the gentle texture of the surface of the lake.

I should have felt self-conscious strolling naked around a strange man's house in the middle of the night -- I didn't even walk naked around my own house -- but, somehow, the situation made me feel like I was another person in another place in a different time. I was unfazed by the thought that someone on a boat in the lake could easily have seen me through the full-length windows.

I walked back toward the couches. The rug that cushioned my steps last night when I had my shoes on felt wonderfully soft on my bare feet, like I was walking in silken sand. I stopped, wiggling my toes into the knap and giggling at the decadence of the situation.

I walked across the hardwood floor toward the entryway. The space was dimly lit by the glow of an unseen night light. As I stepped from the warm wood to the cool marble, I gasped and stepped back. I stepped again, knowing what to expect, and padded on the balls of my feat toward the massive wooden door. Next to the door was the table and the bowl with the key fob to Marc's car. On the floor next to the table was my clutch purse.

I was in such a state of sexual anticipation in the car that I didn't even remember holding my purse as we came in, and I certainly didn't remember dropping it. I bent over and picked it up, and I opened it and pulled out my phone. The screen immediately lit up, telling me it was 2:14 in the morning, but there were no messages from Jim or anyone else. The hope flashed through my mind that maybe Jim would let me have this, and we would have the long happy marriage that still filled my long-term plans.

I considered sending Jim a text telling him that I was OK and that I loved him, but I didn't know what state he was in, and I didn't know whether it would make things better or worse. I also didn't want to deal with Jim begging me to come home, ending this one-night fantasy prematurely. In the end, whatever played out in my marriage would have to come tomorrow.