tagRomanceGreat Sex and Nothing More

Great Sex and Nothing More


If you do not enjoy reading about successful, financially secure, accomplished and attractive people falling in love, fucking freely and living happily ever after, please do not read this story. In spite of the caveat, if you read it and feel compelled to leave a nonsensical, left wing, socialist rant about my lack of humanity or my lack of concern for the poor and the downtrodden or how I need to "grow" past my obsession with material things, please fight the urge to comment. Oh, yes, I almost forgot: there is heterosexual ass fucking in this story. Also, this is essentially a stroke story with some romance.


What had he told her soon after they had first moved in together?

"Too many times when my wife and I were together, I would want to have sex but she would come up with some excuse for why she wasn't interested. I was never too tired to fuck---I just got tired of getting rebuffed. After ten years of that crap I finally gave up. I guess what I'm saying is, if you want to fuck, let me know...get things started. I'll get the message in no time. "

She hadn't had a regular partner in bed since her own divorce two years earlier. She'd had few dates and even fewer sexual experiences during that period. Bluntly, those few sexual encounters had been abysmal, not unlike sex with her asshole ex-husband. Then she had met him or more accurately, let him pick her up at a local singles bar. She'd held him off the first couple of times they had gone out together; she hadn't wanted to come off as a complete slut. At first it hadn't been an issue of her being horny. He was the best thing that had come along and she knew she had to fuck him or he would lose interest.

All of that had changed. Something about him was different. She'd never seen herself as wantonly sexual. With most men---to include her ex-husband---she could take or leave the sex. She realized the first time they had made out that he was unlike other men she had been with. He made her feel sexy...made her feel hot. That first time on the floor in her apartment...he had kissed her for what seemed like hours...he had made her cum with his hands through the tight fabric of her jeans. The next morning she had let him fuck her, one week after they had met.

She was positive that they had no future together. She had been surprised when he had invited her to move in with him. He knew it wasn't permanent; at the end of the summer she would be moving to another city 1,500 miles away to take a new job. She had told him that her lease was up and she was going to have to move for three months to one of those crappy, month-to-month places.

Technically, she had her own room but she had never slept in her own bed although he had fucked her there on more than one occasion. He had fucked her virtually everywhere in his small, 'post-divorce' house, to include the back yard and garage. He'd fucked her more in six weeks than she had been fucked in her entire thirty years. He had fucked her in more different ways...taught her things.

She was certain his only real interest was in fucking her. That idea would have been unappealing to her---unacceptable to her at first. He had unleashed something inside her. Now she couldn't get enough of his cock...his mouth...his hands. He excited her as no man ever had; he made her cum in so many different ways and so damn often! As she had become more brazen in initiating sex, he had gotten the message. He no longer worried about whether or not she wanted to fuck: he knew she did, any time---and anyplace. With this man she was always ready...always horny...always wet.

It had become a game. They would get in bed together. He would often read for a while. She would slide over next to him. Her hands and mouth would roam over his muscled form. He would ignore her or at least pretend to do so. She would find his cock; the damn thing was always hard and far more substantial than any cock she had ever seen before. She would take his slick fuck toy in her mouth.

She had been no better than an average cock-sucker before him; she wasn't even sure she had enjoyed it that much before him. Since him, she had to have it in her mouth...in her throat. He wasn't easy; he had an amazing ability to delay his orgasm. A half-ass blow job would neither arouse him nor make him cum. She had significantly improved her technique. It had become a game.

He would continue to read, as if his big cock wasn't buried in the hot, wet, willing mouth of a very attractive and very horny thirty year old woman more than a decade his junior. She would finger herself, ensuring that he could see her do so, waving her tight little ass in front of him. Sometimes her finger would slip in and out of her ass...sometimes a finger up his tight hole...sometimes both at the same time.

He had licked her there on more than one occasion; she had found it dirty and nasty but also extremely pleasurable. This would be the first time her tongue would slip beneath his big balls and probe there. He wouldn't be expecting it. She had only very recently finger-fucked him there. While she had not refused his probing digit or tongue in her dark hole, she had whispered, "no" the first time he had dragged his fat cock head over her tightly wrapped muscle. She'd never done it that way before; she was sure it would hurt. His cock was too big. It stretched her underused pussy as no man's ever had. It had taken practice to accommodate him in her mouth but he had been patient...taught her to relax.

She knew he wanted her there---wanted to shove his big cock in her ass. While the thought still frightened her, she was curious. She had inserted first one, then another finger in there for the first time in her life only a week earlier while in the shower. She had been embarrassed at the drug store when the clerk had eyed her purchase of the large plastic bottle of Astro-Glide. She had coated the handle of her hairbrush with the viscous fluid and inserted it in her anus. It had not been uncomfortable; it had excited her.

She had been too embarrassed to purchase the anal plug she had seen at the adult store near her office. She had not been too embarrassed to order one on-line. In the end she had ordered more than one; she had ordered a set. A 'training set' it had been called. She'd yet to try inserting even the smallest one. Maybe tomorrow morning she would do so.

She knew he wanted her that way; she knew it would excite him. She needed to excite him...wanted to please him. He would fuck her ass; she accepted that. She would let him---no, she would initiate it. She just had to practice...open herself up...his fat cock was too big for her until she...practiced. Not tonight, though...she wasn't ready yet.

He had put down his book and was looking at her as she tongued his butt hole. His fingers strayed to her pussy...his thumb over her ass hole...rimming her...probing...unhh! It was inside her. She liked the way it felt...fucked his thumb and fingers with her ass like a common slut. She was a slut...his slut...he had made her one...she liked being a slut...his slut.

He was up on his knees now, his tongue was there, replacing the digit. She whispered to him. He liked it when she talked to him...said nasty things...told him what she was going to do...what she needed and wanted him to do. He wanted her ass. He wanted to shove that oversized cock deep in her bowels. She knew she wanted it there...but not tonight. She wasn't ready.

"You want to fuck me in the ass, don't you, baby?"

"Of course. "

"You can...but not tonight...please. I'm not ready yet. I will be...soon...maybe tomorrow night. Yes! Tomorrow night you can fuck me up the ass...cum inside my rectum...make me scream for your cock in my ass...make me your little butt bitch...your anal whore...fuck me up the ass...tomorrow night. "

He accepted her words. He knew she meant it. The vision of his fat cock head splitting her hard little butt cheeks within twenty-four hours excited him. He would take her now...it would be a nasty fuck...hard and deep. He would wait for her...no other man had ever been able to do that...wait for her to come...to scream...to moan.

He lifted her up as if she weighed nothing, positioning her as he desired. She was just his cunt now, not a real person. She liked being his cunt...loved it when he took her hard...rough. He dragged her body to the edge of the bed so that her head hung over. She knew what was coming; it had frightened her, even insulted her the first time he had done it.

Now her mouth hung open in anticipation. He was looking into her eyes...stroking his cock as if doing so could make it even bigger...harder. She turned her head. He slid his long cock in her mouth, to the back of her throat. She almost gagged but she had learned...trained herself not to. He fucked her mouth. She took it all, feeling the tickle of his pubic hair on her face. She was proud that she had learned to take him all. She had become his mouth whore...and it pleased her.

He wanted her cunt now. Pulling her off the bed so that her shoulders where on the floor and her head bent, he moved astride her. Grabbing her legs under her knees, he spread her open. He looked at her and smiled. He often fucked her this way, standing astride her. His cock went so deep like this...probing her depths. His cock head...teasing her clit...little strokes in and out. Her fingers fell there...he expected that...had trained her...she had been uncomfortable at first...masturbating in front of a man...no longer ashamed.

His thick fuck stick slowly slipped to her depths. Her pussy was obscenely spread open as it successful accommodated his exceptional girth. His strong leg muscles began to flex. Squishing sounds emanated from her wet hole as he began to saw in and out of her. His rhythm increased; she held her legs apart and back to enable his invasion. So deep...so full...so hard.

She came the first time long before he did...and then again. The third one was in there...just below the surface. He knew it too. She knew he was close. With this one it was almost as if he decided when he wanted to cum and simply did so. Cumming was almost secondary to him. As always, the lights were on their highest setting. He had told her early on, "I like to watch you getting fucked...watch your face. . . your eyes...your sweet little cunt. "

She knew he would pull out this time and not cum inside her. He would cum on her face; some would land on her tits...some in her mouth. She loved to watch his fat cock spurt. She knew she could expect three or four long ropes of sticky juice. Yes! There it was! The warm splash of his precious essence. He would aim it...most of it would end up on her face...in her hair...in her mouth. And then he would squat over her, inserting his cock once more in her mouth. She would clean him like a good little mouth whore.

And then he would scoop her up in his strong arms, hold her, stroke her...kiss her. She would feel less like a whore and more like...someone he cared about? Could love? He would carefully carry her naked form to the expansive bathroom and sit her on the corner shower seat. He would wash her hair gently, careful not to get any soap in her eyes...wash every inch of her body in and out.

Then he would dry her with a large, warm, fluffy towel. Dry her hair...brush it carefully. Dress her in a warm gown...carry her back to his bed...tuck her in...kiss her good night. Hold her in his arms until she drifted off to sleep. Not a word would pass between them from the moment he came on her face until she fell asleep. It seemed like such an odd ritual; it had confused her at first. It was the one part of their existence together that made her feel like more than a cunt.

No, that wasn't fair. He was never unkind to her. He listened to her. He was generous, not that she was without financial resources. She had an excellent job in her own right. They went to dinner often at fine restaurants. They went to concerts and shows. They would go to nice places for a weekend. In public they came across as good friends who were certainly dating and might well be husband and wife someday. He was always respectful. He introduced her to his friends and associates as a special friend. He never failed to laud her accomplishments - not her accomplishments as his slut, but her education, job status, upcoming promotion, the fact that she was on the path to becoming one of the youngest partners with a top firm in the industry. It was almost as if he was her proud father.

He seldom if ever spoke about his ex-wife. There had been no children. She wasn't sure if he wished there had been or even ever wanted them. It didn't really matter; she wasn't auditioning to be his next wife. She doubted that he even planned to have another wife. He was devilishly handsome, physically fit, charming, kind and successful. She had no doubt that he would have no difficulty finding another young slut to take her place when she left in six weeks.

Feelings...isn't that what all women want to talk about? She wasn't big on talking about feelings. He demonstrated no interest whatsoever in the subject. It caused absolutely no problems between them. They talked...sure they talked. They discussed issues, music, art, world views...books...movies. She was certain that he liked her...found her good company. He was excellent company. They laughed together often. Maybe it worked so well because the future---at least any future between the two of them---never came up. It never came up because neither of them wanted it to and neither of them had any expectations.

She knew she would miss him; she would absolutely miss the fucking. She hoped she could find someone like him in St. Louis...someone to fuck her...someone to talk to...go out with...someone to fuck her. She doubted that she would find anyone to fuck her that came close to him. Still, she was a very attractive young woman. She had no interest in being a man's trophy wife or any other kind of wife for that matter. Still, it would be nice to have a man to live with...go out with...fuck.

She awakened him in the pre-dawn life with her mouth; it had become a daily habit. They showered together as always. He fucked her in the shower...fucked her hard from behind...slapping her firm butt cheeks...telling her what a bad little girl she was...what a hot piece of ass she was...tight little cunt...sweet little fuck toy. He came inside her...and then he held her...kissed her...stroked her affectionately and made her feel special.

"Can you get away for lunch, today?" he asked over coffee and juice.

"Sure. What's up?"

"I have a friend---also a business associate---who is dealing with some issues that are right down your alley. He needs to hire someone who essentially does what you do---and he has absolutely no experience in the area. I was hoping you could chat with him and give him a feel for the kind of education, training, professional affiliations and experience he should be seeking. You'd be doing me---and him---a real favor. "

"What time and where?"

"The Colonade, say 11:30?"

"Can you give me a little background?"

"He's the CEO of a commercial land development company. "

"I certainly have a background in real estate matters; the job in St. Louis...I'll be taking over the real estate side of the firm's activities. Which land development company?"

"Eastern Properties?"

"Oh, my! That's a big fish. I thought they had a firm that handled their needs---I can't recall who, but it's on the tip of my tongue. "

"They do but he's not happy with them. He wants to bring it inside and end the out source relationship. He needs to find someone to head up the function with the expectation of bringing good people on board to staff it. "

"Are we talking Donald McNiff?"

"One and the same. "

"I'll be sure to dress up. "

"Just be yourself, babe. "

'Babe' was his favorite term of endearment for her. He never called her hon, honey, lover or whatever. Almost always it was just, babe. Usually he called her by name. Not the name everyone else used, but the name her family used...not Jane...Janie.

When she entered the upscale eatery and told the over-dressed man at the front who she was there to dine with, he became even more obnoxiously obsequious than usual. She really didn't need his help to find them; they were the best looking two men in the place. She'd caught more than one woman eying her and eying them as the two men saw her approach and came to their feet.

Eat your hearts out bitches. One of them is happily married to one of the most beautiful women in the world and the other is mine!

At least for six more weeks He was hers.

Introductions were quickly made; Donald McNiff appraised her quickly, shook her hand and eschewed the all too common business hug between strangers. Her man hugged her affectionately; his lips brushed against her hairline.

This was not a social luncheon; the small talk ended in under a minute. McNiff had a business to run; she had knowledge that could help him run that business. They got right down to business.

He wanted to know something about her background; he wanted to be sure he was getting advice from someone who knew something...had credentials. She had friggin' credentials out the ass; she was certain that he was impressed. She had yet to meet someone like him who wasn't impressed with her accomplishments.

"How would I determine appropriate staffing based on the volume of activity I've just outlined?" he asked.

"Don, I currently manage our real estate operations---clients---here in this area of the country. Our volume of business is somewhat larger than what you've outlined but then we are dealing with multiple clients and often diverse formats and procedures. I've got a copy of my staffing chart with me. Let me go over the specific functional areas with you so that you can get a more accurate idea of what the operation should look like. You'll still need professionals in each functional area but probably less support staff since they'll be essentially dealing with a single operation---a single client. "

The two of them discussed the staffing details. She occasionally snuck a glance at him...her lover...the man who fucked her. He was paying attention...smiling. . . she was certainly not embarrassing him in front of his friend. She knew her stuff; she realized that this was the first time he had ever really seen her in her environment...her world.

"What about payroll, Jane?"

"We use a national firm that sets comp levels in our industry. I have a copy of their ranges for each position---you can have it. I also have a copy of our ranges for each position---min-mid-max---in a graph format with a red tic mark at or near to what we are paying. "

McNiff quickly perused the two documents. "What about the person who is going to run the whole thing?"

Jane smiled. "No one in their right mind would pay any attention to what a staffing firm says about comp at that level. Bluntly, you need a star---someone with the contacts and respect within the industry and the geography who has a reputation and who can attract the best players. It also needs to be someone with a reputation for being tough and no nonsense---strike a little of the fear of God into the folks on the other side of the table. Pull a fast one or try to hide something and he---or she---is going to cut your balls off. The comp has got to be creative and competitive. It would almost certainly contain a bonus or percentage deal.

"As an example, the job I'm taking up in St. Louis. In addition to a virtual guarantee of partner within a year, there's a healthy commission on every deal. Face it: if I don't do my job right, the client loses money or worse. Conversely, if I do it very well, the client invariably makes more money than they initially expected to. "

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