February Sucks - Leap Night

We finished our meal, and then we both padded around the kitchen putting away the leftovers and loading the plates and glasses into the dishwasher drawer. When I turned around, there were five boats in the cove.

"Would you like a smoothie? There's blueberry and mango, I think?"

"No thank you," was my reply. He pulled out a frozen cup and a spoon and padded into the living room.

Being naked, the leather furniture didn't look appealing, so we sat on that soft, fluffy rug. Marc pulled an afghan off the back of the couch, and I wrapped it around my shoulders. I laid down to get as much of that decadent rug touching my skin, resting my head on Marc's thigh. Marc just leaned against the sofa with his legs spread and that beautiful member hanging down with the head in the knap of the rug at just below my face level.

We chatted some more, again avoiding anything substantial, while Marc ate the smoothie. He periodically shared spoons full of the mango treat, and we laughed like teenagers in a soda shop.

Marc spooned the last of the smoothie into his mouth and sat the container on the end table.

Before he could speak, I jumped up and sat astride his lap and gave him another big kiss, biting his lower lip as I did. "That's for taking the last bite of smoothie," I teased.

"Hey, you said you were already full!" he said, using my earlier words against me.

We started making out like giggling teenagers -- kissing and stroking each other and rubbing our bodies together in the joy of fresh sexual energy.

While Marc was nuzzling my neck, I opened my eyes and looked across the cove. While I couldn't see the boats below, I could see that a group of people had gathered on the rocks above, and they all seemed to be looking our way.

"I think we're drawing an audience," I said through gasping breaths.

Marc raised his head and looked. "Then let's give them a show," he said, and dropped his mouth to suckle my erect nipple. I don't know how there was any fuel left after the night and morning, but the fire was lit again.

"Please, Marc! I need you!"

"I don't know if I have anything left," he said.

I slithered back off his lap. With my ass in the air, I dropped my head down to lick all over his dick and down around his shaved sack. I lifted the head into my mouth and sucked with all I had. After a few moments, I could feel his member start to swell.

I raised to look at Marc and threw my arms up in triumph, "See, I'm a miracle worker!" and then I winked at him.

I dove back in for more, slobbering all over his shaft and bobbing my head up and down to get maximum effect.

Marc pulled me up and gave me a deep kiss. "Do you like the rug?" I nodded.

"Do you want to feel something amazing?" I nodded again with gusto.

He rolled over on his side in the soft deep pile putting his arm out. He pulled me in to spoon with him with my head using his massive bicep as a pillow. The soft knap of the rug caressed my side and tickled the side of my tit.

Marc reached down and raised my leg, placing it on his so that it would stay up without any effort. Then, he slowly entered my pussy from behind. The warmth of his skin across my back and the softness of the rug underneath me made it feel like I was fucking on a cloud.

That beautiful cock stroked slowly as Marc's free hand reached around to caress my breasts and pull me in closer to his powerful body. His motions rocked me forward and back causing the soft shag to feather my breast and tease the side of my nipple. It was also tickling my side, my hip, and the back of my thigh as I moved; I had sensations all over my body.

I was luxuriating in the experience with my eyes half closed in bliss when Marc giggled. "It looks like we have fans!"

I opened my eyes. Now there was a small crowd on the rocks across the cove, and all of them were clearly looking our way.

As Marc continued to slide forward and back, I watched the people watching me from the far bank. As more people climbed to the viewing perch, someone would point directly at us, and then there would be high fives celebrating the impromptu sex show they had found.

Realizing I was being watched had an immediate physical effect. I moaned out loud, my nipples immediately jumped to full erection, and my pussy flooded with an extra surge of lubrication. As I got wetter, Marc's cock began to make obscene squelching noises, adding to the sensory overload I was experiencing. Soon I could feel the wetness run down the back of my thigh leaving a cool, wet trail behind.

Marc put two fingers in my mouth, and I eagerly sucked them and slobbered on them. He rubbed his wet fingers on my nipples, and the cool sensation sent tingles through my body. He then moved his wet fingers down and started to just strum my clitoris. The sensations of the rhythmic 'flick-flick -- flick-flick -- flick-flick' sent me tumbling toward my next orgasm.

The thrill of being watched, the touch of the soft knap of the rug, the feel of his cock stroking across my G-spot, and his expert manipulation of my sensitive button sent me over the edge. This orgasm was warm and enveloping like a soft blanket wrapping around my whole body. One hand held tightly to Marc's hand on my chest while the other pulled on his leg to try to pull him deeper into my pussy.

When I opened my eyes, Marc had slowed his pace to let me ride out the feelings, and the crowd across the way was clearly celebrating my climax.

I looked over my shoulder, "You didn't cum yet, did you?"

"No, but I'm OK. I'm not sure I have another one in me," he replied.

"We're not giving up that easy." I threw the soft afghan on the couch. Pulling him up, I commanded, "Sit there."

Marc did as he was told. I pulled his hips forward and threw my leg over him with my ass facing him. I held his cock in position and lowered my pussy down onto it in one smooth motion. The aftereffects of my orgasm made my body twitch at the renewed sensations emanating from my loins.

I heard Marc say, "Nice view!"

"For you or for our audience?"

"Both!" was the reply.

I began to rise and fall on that wonderful organ, my body still twitching from my previous orgasm. Marc was massaging my back and my flanks. When his hands moved down to the globes of my ass, he could use his thumbs to tickle the star of my asshole while his fingers excited the sensitive nerve endings in my tingling skin.

I looked over my shoulder at Marc. He was staring intently at my ass. I looked down between my legs, and I could see the length of his shaft nearly completely exposed before being engulfed by my body again as I dropped down. It seemed inconceivable from that view that my petite body could completely take something that size.

I looked out the window, and the crowd on the rock had continued to grow, and they were watching us with rapt attention. My skin tingled with a previously unknown excitement at exhibiting my body.

I could feel another orgasm building, but this position didn't provide enough stimulation on my clitoris. I shoved my hand in my mouth to get it wet, and I reached down to rub myself to provide the extra sensation I needed. I rarely masturbated myself, I think due to guilt from when I was a kid, and I certainly never masturbated in front of Jim, but here I was furiously rubbing my clit in front of a new lover that I met only a few hours ago and in front of a whole crowd of voyeuristic onlookers.

I rose and fell and rubbed and rubbed as the heat continued to build. Marc's hands were lifting my butt to help me go up and then releasing me as I slammed down. It was only a matter of time before I succumbed to the sensations; my head jerked back with a yelp, then my pussy contracted and tried to pull my whole body with it. My head flew forward, my back arched as my abs contracted, and my thighs squeezed together locking Marc's cock in my spasming pussy.

My body quivered as Marc's strong hands steadied me on my perch. I stayed there stiff; almost paralyzed by the sensations for what seemed like forever. Eventuall, my legs relaxed and my feet slowly lowered back to the floor.

"Dammit! How do you do that?" I spun around and hugged him and kissed him. "No matter what I do, you always make me go faster than you do! That's not the way it's supposed to work with men and women." We laughed and kissed, but his still-erect member was bobbing and slapping my lower back.

"What can we do for this guy?" I asked, playfully pushing my toy left and right.

"I don't know there is anything we can do. I may just be done."

"Come on, I need to feel you cum one more time before this is over. There must be something."

Marc hesitated as if he needed to consider what he was saying. "There is something that I find exciting, but I don't usually do it with people I care about. I kind of lose myself, and I'm not sure I want you to see me that way."

"Marc, I want to give you this, and I need to feel you for as long as possible."

I slid off his lap and took his penis in my mouth again. It had softened slightly as we talked, but it quickly reinflated in my mouth.

"What now, Marc?"

"Are you sure?" he asked with a look of concern on his face. "Yes," I replied.

Marc stood and lifted me with him. He reached down and grabbed both cheeks of my ass and lifted me up.

"Wrap your legs around my waist." I complied immediately and held onto his neck for support.

Marc gently lowered me until the head of his cock pressed on my pussy lips. He lowered me slowly, with my pussy slowly consuming him as I went.

He looked at me seriously. "Now, when we get started, there will be a line I will cross. I turn into a different person. At that point, there won't be any turning back. Are you ready?"

I nodded my head like a bull rider signaling the cowhands to open the gate. I didn't know at the time how apt that analogy was.

Marc started by slowly lifting and lowering me on his pole. As it continued, I could feel his cock continue to fill me as he manipulated my body with seemingly no effort. I was clutching to his neck to support my upper body. I opened my eyes, and I was looking over his shoulder right at the crowd on the rock, and with us standing, I could see the people on the boats floating in the cove. All eyes were focused on Marc's mansion.

Marc's pace began to quicken, and the impacts stimulated me again causing warmth to grow in the depth of my belly.

Marc stopped for a moment. He walked over to a post between the windows, exposing us even more to the prying eyes outside.

He put his hands on the post behind me for support with his arms supporting me like parallel bars support a gymnast. "This is it. Are you sure you want this?"

"If it lets me experience another one of your orgasms, then, yes."

"Ok, here goes."

Marc closed his eyes and started to thrust forcefully, bouncing my body up with each impact. On and on he pounded, seemingly indifferent to my presence except as a receptacle for his driving cock. I realized it was the first time that Marc hadn't been concerned about my pleasure. In this, I was only along for the ride. In spite of that, my pussy began to respond to the stimulation.

On and on he went, holding me as if I weighed nothing, using me as a human sex toy for his pleasure. 'SMACK-SMACK-SMACK' The sound echoed around the huge space, and I was sure that our voyeur friends could hear it. 'BANG-BANG-BANG' The onslaught continued.

My orgasm hit me as he continued to drive his cock into me over and over. My body wanted to spasm, but I felt like I was in a tempest, and I had to hang on for dear life.

My legs stayed clamped around his waist and my arms struggled to hang on to his neck as a sheen of sweat coated his sculpted body. The impact of his thrusts picked me up and let me reset my grip on his body with each stroke.

Once my orgasm started, my body continued to spasm. In a bed I would have tapped out as the sensations became overwhelming, but I was on a runaway beast over which I had no control.

I was screaming and yelping incoherently as my body succumbed to Marc's erotic attack.

When I thought I might pass out, Marc suddenly opened his eyes, and they seemed to look right through me. His face was animalistic and untamed -- gone was any visage of the gentle lover I had experienced since last night.

His pace quickened again, and I could see control draining from his body. After about five hard, deep strokes slammed into my sensitive mound, Marc bellowed, "RRROOOWWWRRRNNNNGGGHHH!" a sound more like a bear than a human. His cock pulsed so strongly in my pussy that I thought it would explode, and I was flooded with his gift of warm cream.

We slowly crumpled to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs in the aftermath of his tremendous orgasm. His breath came in gasps and whimpers as he tried to recover from the effort he gave to support us both. I kissed his face gently as his respiration slowed.

"Are you OK?" he asked. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"I'm fine. You were wonderful," I replied, kissing him.

Content at that answer, he put his head on my shoulder and was silent for a few minutes.

When he had recovered sufficiently, he looked up at my face and we kissed long and gently, but passionately.

I looked him in the eye. "Marc, the fantasy is wonderful, but you know it has to end."

"I know," he said quietly, as he kissed me again.

My heart was caught in this temporary world, but my mind began to transition back to reality. As wonderful as this time had been, there was no long-term future for us. The difference in our ages and the fact that I had a family complicated things. But, in the end, he was a young man still sowing his oats, and I could never satisfy his need to dominate older women with his charm, gentleness, and generosity nor his need to compete with other men for their affections. I also knew there was never going to be a next time.

I buried my head in his chest and wept openly, mourning the loss of something so short but so intense, my sobs shaking my body as he held me close and stroked my hair.

When I began to slow down, Marc gently hooked his finger under my chin and raised my eyes to his. "Come on, pretty lady. You're a mess."

He gently picked me up and carried me through the bedroom and into the bathroom. He lowered me allowing me to stand. As he started the shower, I looked in the mirror. He was right, I was a mess. My hair was wild, my eyes were red and puffy, and my nose was running. I had no makeup left from the careful face I had created for my date with my husband the night before. There were red splotches across my chest from the sexual excitement, and red marks scattered all around my body from hanging on to him like a baby marmoset in a hurricane as he pummeled my pussy in the living room.

Marc gently pulled me into the shower. The warm water felt cleansing and liberating. Marc squeezed shower gel onto a soft scrubber and started with my back, working patiently down from my neck in a gentle, circular pattern to clean every inch of my exposed skin.

He turned me around, and as the water rinsed my back, he started at my throat, washing along my shoulders, across my breasts, down my stomach, between my legs, and along my thighs and calves. His touch was gentle, and we both knew there was nothing sexual left in our interaction.

He turned me again to let the water rinse the soap off the front of my body.

"Here's some shampoo and conditioner," he said. I'll get out and let you finish yourself. There's a towel for you right on the sink." With that, I felt a cool draft as he opened the door and stepped out, and I lost him in the fog on the glass door as he walked away.

I put my head under the water, and I washed my face. I lathered my hair, and I had time to think while I let the conditioner soak in. I gave myself a final rinse and turned off the shower. The end of the soothing flow of water felt like a metaphor for the end of my sojourn from my real life.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in the huge towel. I ruffled my hair to dry it. On the counter Marc had left a brush and a blow dryer. Luckily, I wore my hair straight with its natural wave, so fixing my hair was easy. Even going out I wore light makeup, and I hardly ever wore makeup on other days, so I hoped that my face would be presentable as is.

I sat on the bidet and let the warm water run across and through my lips for a long time, trying to wash away the evidence of our coupling. I checked the mirror, and most of the red marks on my body had faded after the shower.

Marc came back into the bathroom wearing a pair of loose cotton running pants. He picked up the bottle of aloe lotion and tipped it toward me with a clear question on his face. I nodded. He squeezed some into the palm of his hand, and him rubbing the cool gel across my raw petals was the last intimate contact we would have.

Marc had gathered as much of my clothes as he could find and placed them on the bed. My panties were missing, and my dress was wrinkled from laying in a pile overnight. We looked around and found my thong under the far edge of the bed (how did it get there?), and while I began to get dressed, Marc took my dress into the bathroom to steam out what wrinkles he could.

I was in my bra and panties when he came back out, and my dress looked surprisingly presentable. He helped me zip, and then kneeled in front of me to put on my shoes and gently buckle each strap around my ankle.

Marc walked into the closet and shortly came out wearing a custom track suit and sneakers.

"Let me go get the car," he said.

He walked away leaving me sitting on the bed, looking around the room and remembering all that had gone on since yesterday. The memories flooded through my brain like a runaway movie, seeming both familiar and somehow foreign and far away.

I got up and walked into the living room. The sun was high in the sky, and the collection of boats in the cove had dispersed. I crossed the rug, and about the time I got to the marble in the entryway, Marc came in through the front door.

"You ready?"

"Yeah, I guess."

He crooked his elbow to escort me to the car. Parked in the circle was a small Cadillac SUV. "It's less showy than the Porsche in the daytime," Marc explained.

He opened the passenger door and used his arm to steady me as I lifted myself into the leather seat. He gently closed the door. He walked around the front of the car, looking every bit as scrumptious as he had last night, and effortlessly slid into the driver's seat.

"Where to?" he asked. I gave him my address, and he programmed it into the car's navigation system.

Marc silently drove as I gathered my thoughts.

I felt like I could make choices again, as if he'd released me or something.

At all times Marc was a gentleman. He treated me both generously and gently throughout our time together (except for the wild encounter at the end, and I had asked for that). At no time did I feel pressured or used. Now, one might argue that Marc was less than gentlemanly in the treatment of Jim, whisking me away from what was supposed to be a special night between a husband and wife, but, once Marc asked me to dance, it was a transaction that was only about the two of us. Both in the moment when the decision was made and throughout our several hours together, it was intensely personal, and everything else was peripheral.

While I was sure that I deserved one night of adventure, I was equally sure that Jim didn't deserve the pain that he went through for me to get it. I had to find some way to make that up to him.

I understood that there would be ripple effects. As a married woman, I thought those waves would crash harder on my shore than anywhere else. I hoped that Jim could forgive, or at least accept and move on, if not for me, then for Emma and Tommy. I needed to try to keep their lives intact, and that would give me time to convince Jim that our relationship also was intact, no matter how hurt he might be in the short term, and that our best future was together.