Guilty Pleasures Ch. 05

My back arched and I cried out a long, wordless gasp as I felt my body twitch and my insides waver. The noise I made swept higher as I felt an amazing rush up my shaft and I filled Wanda's mouth with cum. It just kept rolling, and I just kept moaning. Okay, I possibly was squeaking by the time I finished erupting. My knees wobbled and my teeth actually hurt as I gasped for air, my head rolled back. Looking straight up, all I could now see was the chandelier above my entryway. A bulb was out.

Shit, those were a pain to replace.

The silly thought brought me back to reality, and I looked back down with what had to be a stupid grin on my face. "Holy shit," was all I could say. Shaking my head to clear it, I pulled Wanda back to her feet, embraced her, and kissed her soundly. This was much more of an affection kiss instead of a sex kiss... you know, except for the considerable amount of cum in her mouth that she still had not managed to swallow...

She kissed me back softly, and we just held each other, glorying in her magnificence.

"So that was all right?" she murmured around my lips.

"Oh good Christ, Wanda! This was so fucking good!"

"Thank you. You know, spontaneous gratitude is very sexy." Her hand caressed my softening cock, teasing the head and drawing another groan from me. "But the really sexy thing, the really, really flattering thing, is that you never felt the need to tutor me on how to improve anything..."

"What?"

Oh shit! What all had Mary told her?

Fuck.

Wanda just laughed. I almost had my knees buckle again.

"Mary was effusive about your sex-teaching skills. She was detailed and effusive about your actual sex skills, too..."

"You asked her about that kind of detail?" I asked incredulous.

"She was thrown for a loop when I started asking about specifics," Wanda chortled happily. "But once I got her talking, she did go on..." She looked at me. "Don't worry, of course. I didn't tell her I was being so inquisitive because I wanted a scouting report!"

"Thank God!" I said fervently.

"Yes..." Wanda mused. "Really, Clark. You should know that young women are lousy at keeping secrets. I was proud that it took as much work as it did to get the first details out of Mary! But once the info started flowing..."

I looked at her. "You are still angry."

"Not really," she said, as if continuing to think about it. "I suppose that you should be thankful that I was so relieved she had not ruined any chance of my evening things up with her father. In fact, I was so happy that she spurred things forward, I got over being mad quite quickly."

I looked at her doubtfully.

"Oh, don't worry, Mister," she grinned. "I will not ever, and I mean ever, stop busting your balls about it," she laughed. "We will be old, and gray, and in a nursing home playing Bingo, and when you least expect it, I'll lean over and just say, 'Mary!'"

"Oh Hell, no!" I laughed, squeezing her in my embrace.

"Oh Hell, yes!" She retorted gleefully.

"Well, not right now," I said grimly, pushing her backwards until her scrumptious ass bumped into the low, sturdy, antique wooden side-table I had gotten from my grandfather and which served currently as the place I put the mail.

I swept said mail aside, and lifted Wanda up to sit on the surface.

"You are going to stop me how?" she taunted.

My hand found the zipper of her skirt. It was on the right hip, and it slid down easily.

"Distraction will work," I said, tugging down on the skirt. She helpfully braced herself and lifted her ass to let me slide it down to the floor.

Holy shit.

Not pantyhose. She wore stockings. Stockings held up by a black garter belt with small lace accents. And in her nervous eagerness for this evening, she somehow forgot to wear any panties...

Like a grown woman, she kept much of her pubic hair, trimmed in a neat, wide triangle of fiery curls.

I was momentarily pole-axed by the magnificence of what I had uncovered.

"Like stockings and a garter belt, do you?" Wanda asked happily.

"I'm also a fan of no panties," I nodded, eyes remaining glued below her softly rounded but still sleek tummy.

Her hand went out to caress my mostly dangling penis, which still hung out of my fly. "Shall we get this guy ready for you to distract my brains out?" she mused.

"In a bit," I said, as I dropped to my own knees in turn. "First, I think I didn't get enough dessert..."

I got no argument from Wanda.

I also was in no rush. We weren't hiding anything. Yancey could wait as long as I felt like making him wait before his wife came home. I was bound and determined to do this absolutely right. And enjoy the fuck out of it while doing so.

Fuck Yancey.

I lifted one lean, remarkably well-toned leg, caressing the soft nylon, and massaging her flesh within. Then I bent and kissed the inside of her knee. Wanda shuddered wordlessly, and watched me. I grinned up at her and just put the leg back down.

Relenting in the face of her pouting gaze, I lifted the other and gave it the same treatment, followed by sliding my lips upward, slowly. My fingers dug gently into her flesh and massaged as I moved relentlessly upward, at as slow a pace as I could make myself.

Wanda let the leg splay out wider, and I leaned after it, she lifted the first and draped it around my shoulder, the pressure not so subtly pleading for me to hurry. "Jesus, Clark," Wanda said with shallow breaths. "I already knew that Yancey had convinced you to do this by the time I got Mary to crack. It was brutal keeping her from seeing how wet I was getting when she started enthusing about a 'real man' going down on her."

The purpose of this exercise... a purpose of this exercise, was to stop Wanda from busting my chops about Mary. I needed to get going or that wasn't going to happen.

I pulled on an elastic strap of the garter and snapped it against her thigh. Wanda yelped a little, and I took that moment to dive my face deep between her thighs, halting myself just an inch from her crotch.

Hmmm. She might have left herself more bush than the young women I'd recently 'encountered', but she too seemed to have appreciated the value of being bare between the legs. Her labia were smooth as silk. And they were clearly habitually, not freshly, shaven. Yancey got to enjoy this all the time.

I mean, fuck Yancey and all, but at the moment, I found it hard to begrudge him much, given the circumstances.

I extended a saliva-soaked tongue and pressed it down the length of her slit, from bush downward. Her clit must have been peeking out a tiny bit, as I felt her jump as my tongue passed over where it had to be.

"Ohhhh, murble furble," Wanda moaned sillily as I started to drag my tongue upward again. I breathed softly over her clit, and she lifted her other leg and sinuously draped it along my back. I lifted a hand and tweaked an upthrust nipple.

But I had more important tasks than playing with those fabulous tits, and I grabbed at her hip instead. My other hand slid up underneath her and I spread her outer lips with my fingers. My tongue found the gap and I tasted her.

It was odd. Younger women really do taste stronger, it seemed. Not better. Not remotely better. But stronger. Wanda's flavor and aroma were gentle and mild, though no less wanton for all that. I probed deeper, reveling in the sensory bouquet.

My upper lip brushed her clit once more and she stiffened again. Swiftly, I slid my blunted tongue up and lavished that bud with sinuous strokes. Wanda crooned happily, then crooned even louder as I filled her with a couple of fingers where my tongue had been. They drove even deeper into her, stroking the ridged pleasure zone inside her.

Her thighs pressed down on my shoulders as she raised her hips up against me, muttering almost inaudibly in words I did not understand, or care to. I knew what she meant. She was more than just a little distracted now...

I twisted my fingers within her as I ran my tongue side to side over her bud. My other hand squeezed her ass, which was as toned and smooth as her legs. All around me, I felt her arousal approach terminal velocity. Her legs quivered and spasmed, her belly undulated, and she moaned softly. I lifted my eyes to hers and let her see the smile within.

Her eyes widened in return, then suddenly shut as she bounced up and down, almost cracking my chin on the wooden edge of the sideboard as she did so. I rode her spasms though, and she cried out happily. And kept crying. I did not relent until she collapsed and almost piteously pushed me away from her, forgetting at first to loosen her legs so I could actually pull away.

Once she let go with her legs, she actually shoved me away, gasping for oxygen. "Holy... fuck, Clark!" Wanda panted. "I was expecting a lot, especially based on Mary's ranting, but shit! I didn't expect you to be in Yancey's league!"

"Excuse me?"

"You are, I'm telling you."

"Yancey's league?

"Clark," Wanda said, regaining her mental agility and grinding at me. "We were at a low point in our marriage already when I caught him schtupping your wife. But instead of kicking him to the curb, I bore down to fix our marriage. You don't think a little bit of that was because he's a fucking sex god like you?"

You have not been confused until you have been told you just sort of measure up, but also, in the same breath been told you are a sex god. I was unable to form a coherent thought.

Okay, I was able to think, 'Well done, Yancey. Fuck you.' But beyond that, I was frozen. Then I realized that I had gotten an attaboy of all attaboys, and I needed to bask in it and move on. And I hadn't even fucked her yet.

What if I sucked at that?

A month ago, I'd have crumbled at that thought. But since then, I'd made three college girls weep. I had this.

I leaned in and Wanda grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to her for another breath-robbing kiss. My knees wobbled again.

"This is ridiculous," Wanda said. " I am totally naked... well almost totally naked..."

"I think of it as Naked Plus," I interjected. Nothing but garter belt, stocking and high heels was definitely Naked Plus.

Wanda snorted. "I'm naked plus here, and your tie is still fucking tied. Let's fix that."

She reached for my waist and I grabbed her hands. "No. I don't think so," I said smoothly. She needed taking down a peg, I realized. I tugged her off of the sideboard, and pressed her downward toward the floor. She didn't resist, much, and I soon had her on her back on the ultra-plush rug in my entry..

"Have you ever been screwed by a fully dressed man?" I asked as I moved between her thighs, my cock once more hard as a rock and sticking proudly out of my fly.

"No," Wanda said, shaking her head almost involuntarily. "No, I haven't."

I bent over her, my tie flowing between her naked breasts. I still had my suit coat on, guys. I pressed down and felt my cock nestle against her slit. Wanda just groaned happily at the sensation. I pressed slightly, and felt my cock push gently, and shallowly into the vagina of my friend's wife. All she could do was whimper in approval.

Fuck Yancy. I was a sex god. Morals be damned.

I pressed inward, feeling my head pop fully inside her folds. Holy shit it was awesome.

Then I pulled back out. I tilted my hips so I was in no danger of accidentally sliding back in, and started to go to town on her tits instead with my mouth and both hands.

Wanda groaned happily... for about two seconds. Then she grabbed my head in a vice-like grip and growled, "Clark, you bastard, get on with it!"

I grinned at her, and swiveled my cock back into position. My cock nestled naturally into her folds again, and I pressed. I pressed hard and felt myself sink into her magical depths. She was hot, and wet, surprisingly tight, and very responsive. Tight is great, but responsive is where the magic happens. I pulled out and pushed back in, and she immediately matched my movements, clenching and relaxing to maximize my, and I hoped her, pleasure.

Two more slow, full-depth thrusts and I was groaning, "Ohhhh, fuuuuckk!"

"Language," Wanda warned.

I stared at her.

Wanda threw her head back and laughed, a deep, hilarious laugh that... that made my dick feel Goddamned amazing. I still stared at her, just a lot more happily.

"You scolded my daughter for her profanity... with your cock buried inside her," Wanda laughed. I was really, really coming to like being laughed at by a woman I was inside of. It felt incredible.

My mind rejected all possible images of Mary telling her mother that story. Women were beyond understanding.

Instead, I thrust into her as hard as I could. Slowly, but powerfully. Then I did it again. And again.

"She had to learn," I gasped, still thrusting hard and deep. "Little girls... who say fuck... get fucked!"

Wanda grunted as I slammed home into her. "Oh...? What about little boys... who say 'fuck'?" She grasped my shoulders tight.

"They... get to fuck... big girls..." I ground out between thrusts.

We both seem to feel like the bit had run its course, and shut up to start just fucking each other silly. Wanda pressed upwards against me, her hands adjusting my hips as I rode her. I felt her whole body beneath undulate in approval of the new angles. I shifted as well, and we both oofed happily at the result of the adjustment. In minutes, we each had adjusted to the others' needs and desires, and were coupling like old pals.

There is absolutely, positively no substitute for experience.

Wanda was supple, firm, accommodating, and interactive beneath me. She was not a twenty year-old hardbody, but I could barely remember why that would be a good thing at that moment. We mutually found a configuration of hips and legs and bodies that had me thrusting into her in a way that had us both moaning with pleasure.

It was glorious, but it was also pretty exhausting for me, and I worried that I might not be able to carry things through to the end, no matter how amazing it felt, no matter how driven I was to go on just like that.

Wanda must have sensed it too, because suddenly she grabbed me and pulled me down hard against her. She kissed me and we both held still for a moment, panting for air. Then she rolled us both over, keeping me buried in her as she did so. She kissed me again. "Let me drive for a while," she offered. With that, she pushed up onto her knees astraddle me, put her hands gently on my chest, and began to ride.

In less than a minute, we found a new and more than satisfactory angle, and Wanda was going there with gusto. I'm not too much of a man to admit, the way she was riding me might have felt better than the way I'd been railing her. And this way, I had a full and convenient view of the sight of this magnificent, fit woman riding up and down on me. Part of me wanted to reach up and grasp those mesmerizingly swaying breasts, but I contented myself with leaving my hands on her flexing thighs and just enjoying the show.

By this point, I could have come any time. But I could still control myself, so you can bet your ass that I did. Extending this deliriously erotic experience was almost all I could think of. Wanda seemed to be getting very close herself. If she broke before I did, I was going to roll her over again and fill her...

Shit.

"You... are still on... the Pill... right?" I grunted, hips involuntarily pushing up against Wanda's ride. This information was suddenly urgent.

"No." Wanda gasped. "Never been on it."

"Uh, then we need..." I said, voicing that urgency.

"Just go with... it," Wanda gasped, not slowing, and not freeing me beneath her. "Mary... was a hard birth... it hasn't been... a problem since."

"Oh geez! I'm sorry," I said, my impending orgasm fading just a hair as compassion tried to crowd in.

"Shut up," Wanda commanded.

Words faded. Compassion for tragedies twenty years gone by faded. Now it was just grunts, and gasps, and sheer pleasure radiating out from where we joined. My body's need to come roared back and overwhelmed me.

With a loud cry of reluctant ecstasy, I felt myself explode up into Wanda. Jism coursed through my shaft in pulse after pulse, each sending shocks of pleasure through the rest of my body. So great was my concentration on my own pleasure at that moment, I missed the first wave of ecstasy crashing over Wanda at the same time.

She kept riding me, desperately flailing atop my cock, as her body undulated in round after round of pleasurable release. I found myself at first wildly stimulated by her abandon, then hoping she would collapse soon, as she crazily sent my cock beyond its limits. The poor thing just wanted to sleep, and that wasn't happening with Wanda caressing it so feverishly.

Finally, I felt her pause, her voice still warbling slightly. I took that moment to grasp her and pull her down against me where I lay on the rug. Like a stiff flag in a sudden calm, she flowed down atop me, draping herself exhaustedly over me. My utterly soft cock still somehow hung on inside her, but I knew the slightest movement was going to cause it to slip free.

I held very still.

But Wanda moved, shifting to kiss me. I slipped out.

"Awww," she pouted, realizing what she had done.

"Had to happen eventually," I replied. Then we were kissing again, harder. Or as hard as we could, considering our mutually low reserves of energy.

After a few delicious moments of post-coital kissing, I suddenly rolled us over again, needing to feel her beneath once more. She whooped a little at my gambit. I grasped a breast and fondled it hungrily.

Frankly, I was shocked I had any appetite at all. I sure as hell had no energy to do anything about it right then.

I had so little energy, I could not resist when Wanda chose to roll us back over again, her small figure once more rising atop my frame. She pushed up across my body and dangled a breast in front of my face. I happily, if idly, opened my mouth to suckle on the offered treat.

"You know," I said around the nipple in my mouth. "This house comes equipped with things called bedrooms." I flicked that nipple with my tongue. "Mine has an exceptionally nice bed in it."

Wanda pushed upward and smiled down at me happily. But not eagerly. "That sounds wonderful. And I look forward to seeing how exceptionally nice it is. But not tonight."

"No?"

"This has been a perfect first pass, Clark," she said softly. "And the next one, I hope we can take a lot longer time with. But right now, I need to go home. To Yancey." She paused. "I feel better about us, all of us, already, and I want him to know that."

I looked at her as she considerately let me think. She still loved the man. Hell, she had just fucked my brains into pink goo because she loved the man.

Maybe this really would work...

I grinned up at her, and told her so. "Hell, you can even tell Yancey that I stopped thinking 'Fuck Yancey' halfway through the proceedings."

Wanda laughed. "He'll probably be glad to hear that... eventually." She slid off of me and we both struggled to get our bones up off the floor. I'm in pretty good shape, and Wanda is in amazing form, but there are inevitable consequences for all fifth decade skeleto-muscular structures that come from rolling around energetically on the floor for half an hour or more.

"Let me help you to the shower," I said, taking a step toward the rest of the house. I intended to take her to one of the guest rooms. If I got her into my shower, I doubted we'd get away without another round.

"Nope," Wanda said, reaching for her skirt and stepping into it. "I'm going home just like this." She shrugged into her blouse and buttoned it up to the point of showing magnificence but not quite sleazy cleavage. "I'm going to walk back to our home and in the front door, freshly fucked, with my hair a mess, my clothes barely decent, and smelling deliciously of you," she said firmly, giving me a quick kiss. "Every sense Yancey has is going to tell him that we have begun to even things up."