tagLoving WivesFirst Time Out

First Time Out


She took her time preparing for the night. Before stepping into the shower, she shaved her legs, under her arms, then carefully trimmed and shaped the curly black hair on her pussy. While her olive skin was still damp from the shower, she anointed her legs, arms and torso with an expensive skin emollient. She brushed her long, curly, dark brown, almost black, below shoulder length hair. Taking her time, she painted her fingernails and toenails with a Chinese-red lacquer. Then she picked up the bottle of White Shadows perfume from her dressing table and put a tiny drop behind each ear, the hollow of her throat, each nipple and on her pussy.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she eased a pair of nylons up the softness of her legs and hooked them to the black, lacy, garter belt. I hooked the three fasteners on the black bra for her. From the closet, she took a transparent, red, button up the front, silk blouse. Starting at the bottom of the shirt, she buttoned all of the buttons save the top three. To complete the ensemble, she put on a calf length, zip all the way up the front, faux suede skirt and then pulled on a pair of high heeled, mid-calf length, brown boots. The last step was to lightly apply red lipstick to her full lips.

My preparation wasn't quite so involved. I showered, ran a brush through my hair, splashed on some cologne, threw on a pair of Levis and a T-shirt then pulled on my socks and boots. It's a difficult thing being a male, but someone has to do it. It may as well be me.

Dimly glowing stars studded the inky blackness of the night sky. A gentle summer wind rustled the leaf-heavy tree branches. In spite of the warmth of the night, I was wearing a light leather jacket. She was wearing a long, thin, black coat. I held her arm as we walked to the old blue, '72 Ford LTD. It wasn't pretty, but it was roomy. The 429 under the hood let me pass almost anything on the highway except a gas station.

I'm not going to lie to you; I was nervous. In fact, I was nervous as hell. I could tell from the rhythm of her breathing that she wasn't exactly as cool as a cucumber. It was relatively new territory for both of us.

I'd driven past the place countless times over the course of the last couple of years. The concrete block building set well back from the highway. A rickety privacy fence partially obscured the parking lot from public view. There were, perhaps, 15 cars in the lot when we arrived. We got out of the car and shut, but didn't lock, the doors. There wasn't anything in the car worth stealing. I'd rather a thief find that out without breaking a window.

The cost of admission was eight bucks. The guy behind the glass handed me back two singles. We hesitated at the brown, double-doors that lead into the auditorium. I winked at her. She smiled at me. I opened the door and we stepped into the darkness.

We stood still for a moment to allow time for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. On the screen, a woman was screaming in fake ecstasy as a well-hung man fucked her doggy style. As my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, I could see that most of the seats were empty. Toward the back of the room, in a corner, there was a booth and a table. I steered her toward it.

After we sat down, she shrugged out of her coat. I lit a cigarette and surveyed the audience. There were young men, middle-aged men and one old man. She was the only woman, which wasn't overly surprising. It was a seedy joint that smelled more than faintly of urine and semen. The men were surreptitiously watching us. None of them tried to make eye contact or moved closer to us.

I ran my hand up the smoothness of her leg. Whispering in her ear, I told her to unzip more of the skirt. She did. The fabric fell apart, exposing most of her thighs. On the screen, the hot and furious action continued without a semblance of a plot.

"What happens next?" she whispered into my ear.

"In a couple of minutes I want you to get up and go to the bathroom." I made a slight motion toward the short, dimly lit, hallway that lead to them. "Stay in there a couple of minutes and then come out and stand by the entrance for a minute with a cigarette in your hand. I'm betting someone will walk over to offer you a light." I handed her a cigarette. In case you're wondering, she was a non-smoker.

She got up and sauntered away. Sauntered isn't exactly the right word. I think "strutted" is more accurate and appropriate. The woman gave good walk. She had the right roll to her hips and ass that made it all look sassy, saucy, and sexy as all get out. There was nothing contrived about it.

Standing under the dim, yellow light in the hallway, she looked as though she had just stepped out of a French "arte" movie. The softness of the red, silk shirt draped nicely over her large breasts barely fettered by the lacy bra. Standing as she was with one hip jutted out, the skirt had fallen open enough to reveal a good portion of her nylon stocking covered thigh. The unlit cigarette dangled loosely in her right hand.

Within moments, a man walked up to her and held out a lighter. She put the white tube between her red lips and sucked shallowly as he applied flame to it. They visited for a minute. I saw her smile and heard her laugh softly. He walked back to the booth with her. She slid in next to me and he sat next to her. She introduced him as John. I don't know if that was really his name. Neither she nor I were using our real names.

We didn't try to converse. We didn't even look at each other. I felt her hand on my leg. I placed my hand on her left leg and slowly stroked my way up her thigh. I ran my fingers over to her pussy. Instead of her hot wetness, I felt his hand as his finger manipulated her clit. I moved my hand and listened as she began to breathe more rapidly as her excitement mounted. From the way her right shoulder was moving, I knew she was rubbing his cock through his pants. It was a familiar song. Her head dropped back as she arched her back and climaxed quietly. He moved his hand. I put two fingers into her dripping vagina.

A slender, mostly bald man walked over to the table. "You need to be careful," he said. The cops put undercover vice out here all the time. I don't think there are any here right now." I thanked him and he left.

"Do you want to get out of here?" I asked John.

"That would be good." His voice was hoarse with hunger.

We walked to the car. She slid in next to me; he next to her. As we drove out of the parking lot, I told him we weren't comfortable taking someone to our house so we were going drive around in the country where it would be more private. Since the theater was near the city limits, it was a matter of minutes before we were driving slowly down a gravel road.

He unbuttoned another button on her blouse, lifted her bra over her breasts then began sucking and licking the nipples while his hand was buried under her skirt. She fumbled at his belt buckle, then unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks. She reached into his undershorts and came out with his cock in her hand.

She turned toward him, her hand massaging his cock. His breath came in short, hard gasps. Her hips were bucking against his hand. He humped against her leg and hand. I played with her bare ass as I combined watching them and driving.

I stopped the car to suggest they make themselves comfortable in the back seat. After they changed seats, I adjusted the rearview mirror to make it easier to watch the action. He laid her down on the seat, lifted her legs into the air, lowered his mouth to her pussy and began lapping at it furiously. She held his head between her hands as she thrust into his tongue. Her moan became louder and louder as she neared her peak. The movement of her hips became erratic until she screamed in orgasm, stiffened and then relaxed.

After resting a moment, she sat up and pushed him down on the seat. He lifted his hips to help her as she pulled his slacks to his ankles and off one leg. Delicately and softly, she traced the swollen head of his cock with her warm, wet tongue. He groaned. She made an O with her lips as she sucked him into her mouth. Her tongue twirled while she fucked his cock with her mouth.

Her mouth left him to allow her to trace a wet trail to his balls and then to his scrotum. He writhed with pleasure. His hips were a perpetual motion machine as she took him to dizzying heights.

Suddenly he squirmed out from under her and all but slammed her back into the seat. It was, indeed, a bawdy sight. She had taken her skirt off and tossed it on the back of the seat. Her dripping pussy was almost framed by the garter belt. One of her booted feet was draped across the front seat while the other was draped over the back seat. Her curly hair was a mass of tangles.

He knelt between her legs. She took his cock in her hand and guided him to her pussy. Just as she started to pull him into the welcoming heat of her vagina, he stiffened and began to spasm, coating her pubic hair with ropes of cum.

John moved from between her splayed legs. For a few moments, he idly stroked her pussy and ran his hand over her breasts. She sat up, pulled her bra back over her breasts, put her skirt on, and straightened her blouse. He straightened his clothing. We drove him back to the cinema and thanked him for being a gentleman.

We drove home in silence. She curled into my side with my arm around her shoulder. I slid my hand into her blouse, reached into her bra and began softly twirling her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. I parked in our driveway and we walked across the softness of the too-long grass. I had forgotten to leave the porch light burning so it took a bit to find the right key and insert it into the lock.

She hung her coat on the coat tree by the door. I tossed my jacket across the over-stuffed chair. We looked at each other for a long second.

"I've been a bad girl," she said in a decidedly little girl voice.

"And how have you been a bad girl?" I asked.

"I played with a man's cock," she confessed.


"I let him play with my pussy. I let him put his tongue in my pussy."

"And?" I asked again.

"I sucked his hard cock. I put his balls in my mouth. I licked under his balls." Her little girl voice sounded surreal in the stillness of the almost-dark room.

"And?" My voice sounded gravelly to my ears.

"He cum on my leg. He cum again on my pussy?

"On your leg and on your pussy?" I asked with more than a little amazement.

"Yes. He couldn't wait." I put my hand over my mouth to hide my grin.

"And?" I asked again.

"I enjoyed it. I liked sucking his cock. I liked his fingers and his tongue in my pussy. I liked the feel of his cum on me. I rubbed it in. I tasted some of it and it tasted good."


"I need to be punished for being such a bad girl."

"How should you be punished?" I could feel my hard cock straining against the coarse fabric of my Levi's.

"I need to be spanked."

"Take your clothes off," I ordered.

She unbuttoned the blouse and threw it on the chair. Bending over, she unzipped her boots and kicked them out of the way. Her breasts jiggled and swayed when she struggled to undo the snaps. They sagged slightly when they were freed from their confines. The nipples were hard. The garter belt and nylons joined her blouse on the chair.

"Get the paddle, take it to the bedroom and assume the position on the bed." I sat down and lit a cigarette as she left the room. I smoked it and then another before I got up and walked to the bedroom. She was kneeling on the edge of the bed with her face buried in the covers and her round ass in the air. The paddle was lying on the bed beside her.

"How much of a whipping do you think you need?" I asked.

"I was a very bad girl. I wanted more."

I picked up the paddle and softly caressed her ass with it. I turned it on edge to run it down the crack of her ass. She trembled when she felt the corner of it linger on her tightly puckered hole. I patted her ass with the paddle. She jumped just a bit.

The paddle cracked hard against the left cheek, then again against the right. The strokes alternated; fast, slow, soft, hard, very hard, pause for a moment and then strike again. As I paddled with my right hand, I slid two fingers of my left hand into her vagina. It was sticky wet with her arousal.

She moaned with each strike and she moaned between the strikes. Maybe it wasn't so much a moan as it was a keening hum. I spanked until I knew she was in a zone where asking me to stop was not possible. After laying down the paddle, I began squeezing her ass cheeks. That elicited a different type of sound.

I undid my zipper and took out my cock. It was painfully hard. The head was an engorged purple helmet. I put my hand on her hips to pull her closer to me.

"Spread your cheeks," I ordered.

She reached back to grasp each cheek with her painted nails and pulled them apart. My cock was wet with need. I put my forefinger in my mouth to wet it, then rammed it into her ass. She gasped. I guided the head of my cock to her ass hole and slowly, but ever so firmly, began to push.

There was resistance at first as my cock fought for access. She pushed back against me. I grabbed her hips with my hands and shoved my cock into her. The tight sphincter opened to me and I buried my cock to the hilt. Roughly, I began slamming in and out of her. Her moans became gasps and her gasps became a litany of pleasure. We were both panting like winded horses as we raced to see who would cross the finish line first.

I'm not sure who won that race. My cock grew harder and bigger as I felt the cum boiling for release. She was singing her song as the first jets of my cum washed the walls of her rectum. She collapsed face down on the bed. I leaned back against the wall to give me support while I caught my breath.

I kicked off my boots, dropped my jeans and T-shirt to the floor, and then crawled into bed next to her. The games were finished for now. It was time to sleep.

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