Insatiable Mrs. Pillsbury

"A toast," I said. Our flutes clinked. I looked at Dylan's face over a long, bubbly sip. He glanced back at me, and then he glanced away. He was nervous, and he was adorable. But he wasn't going to make it easy for me. I was seated a few inches away from him, my body hot, eager, and naked under millimeters of silk fabric, and he wasn't making any moves. I was going to have to do everything myself.

Fortunately, I liked the challenge.

"You've been doing great at the company, Dylan," I said to him. "Everybody is impressed with your work. You seem to take the job very seriously. You work long hours, don't you?" I showed concern by putting a hand lightly on his knee.

"It's not too bad," he said, shrugging. "I like the work I do."

"I'm so glad," I said, squeezing his knee. "But it's probably hard to maintain a social life, huh?"

He bobbed his head around and shrugged again before finally replying. "I don't get out as much as I could, I guess."

"Girlfriend?"

"No," he said, ducking his head down. "I don't have a girlfriend."

"That's too bad! You're a handsome young man, you know. You know that, don't you?"

"Not really," he said. "Nobody's told me that!"

"What!" I said, doing my best to look indignant.

I sidled closer to him. The silk kimono parted an inch or two more, further baring my legs, which already were laid considerably bare to his eyes.

"Dylan," I said, in a confidential tone. "I'm going to give you some inside advice. It comes from experience. One of the best things you can do to succeed in the workplace--I'm serious about this--is to have a good sex life. If you get a little satisfaction in the off-hours, you'll do better when you're on."

I don't think I've ever seen a human being blush as much as Dylan blushed at that moment. A crimson wave spread over his face. I felt bad about making him uncomfortable, but not bad enough to stop going where I was going.

"Well," he started to say. "I wouldn't, ah... ah...."

"Surely," I continued, "you must know what I'm talking about. In college you must have had some fun. You know, to get through the long nights of studying."

"Wuh-well," he said again, stammering, "I don't know...."

It became clear to me in a flash. My god. I couldn't believe it. Dylan was a virgin. I could read the truth plainly in that guileless, innocent face.

I sat up straighter, chest forward, more determined than ever. I was no longer on a lustful quest. I was on a mission of mercy.

"Dylan," I said, as calmly and authoritatively as I could. "This will not do."

"What do you mean, Kristen?"

I patted his hand with mine.

"Dylan, you know you can trust me, right?"

"Yes, of course."

"I've always helped you in your career at the company, right?"

"Sure, yeah," he said. He looked confused.

"And you know how to be discreet, to keep things just between us?" I looked him right in the eye to see if he could tell where I was going with this. He was so hard to read! He was a smart young man, but so innocent and inexperienced!

"Yeah, Kristen, you bet."

That was all I needed.

My hands went to the kimono and loosened the sash around my waist. I opened it up and pulled the top down and off my shoulders. My breasts lay bare to him, my hard nipples jutting sharply toward his face. His jaw dropped and his eyes bugged out. It was cute and sexy at the same time.

"Kristen--" he started to say.

I put a finger to his lips.

"No, don't say anything," I said. "Let me talk. As your boss, and as a friend who cares about you. And as a woman."

I cupped my breasts and pinched my nipples. I held Dylan's attention. Good.

"Do you see me as a woman, Dylan, or just as a boss? I know I might be kind of old for you. You can be honest about it."

"Woman," he replied, in a raspy, whispery voice. "Yes, you're definitely a woman. Not old at all."

I kept pinching my nipples, manipulating them this way and that, and putting on a show for my cub. His eyes never strayed from them.

"I'm so happy to hear that," I said. "I know this is a little... unusual. This is just between us, right?"

"Right!" he said.

I looked at him with a flirty, sidelong glance.

"Do you want to touch them?" I asked.

He tried to speak but couldn't say anything intelligible. I took that as a "yes."

I put a hand on the back of his head and pulled.

For a second, he resisted, and I wondered if I'd made a mistake. I was taking a big risk. But his eyes bored into mine, and I tried with everything I had to look back at him with acceptance and encouragement, all the while maintaining the pressure on the back of his head until finally, he relented.

I pulled his head to my breast.

His lips encircled a hard, eager nipple.

"Suck it, Dylan," I said. "Just let yourself suck it."

At first, I felt nothing but his saliva and the light pressure of his lips on my areola, but at last, Dylan began to suck. Lightly, tentatively, almost fearfully. Poor cub! I imagined he was worried he might get in trouble. I wanted him to set his fears aside. My whole body was aflame with desire. I kept the pressure on the back of his head. I sighed, loud enough for him to hear, when I felt the tip of my tit being sucked into his mouth. It touched his tongue.

Dylan was a novice--that much was clear. His mouth moved inexpertly over my nipple, and his tongue was like an untrained puppy in need of its first nipple-licking lesson. But it didn't matter. My cub was sucking my nipple, at last. I was being a bad boss and a bad wife, and I absolutely 100% reveled in all of it.

"That feels so good, Dylan," I said. "Do you like giving a woman pleasure?"

He replied almost incoherently, the words coming out in bits and pieces as his mouth worked over my breast.

"Yeah," he said. "I guess. I've never done this before."

"Do you like my nipple, Dylan? Do you like having your mouth on it?"

"God yes," he said.

"I think you should try the other one, then."

With the pressure of my hand as a guide, Dylan's head swerved from one breast to the other, and soon he sucked the next nipple. His sucking grew stronger, less tentative.

The sensation drove my lust through the roof.

I admit it: I liked the power I had over him. His body was bent over, nearly cradled in my lap, as his mouth went to work on my breast. This brilliant but innocent young man was in my power--my boy toy to play with. I felt I could get him to do anything.

My phone buzzed next to me, on the bed. I glanced at the screen. It was a text from my boyfriend, Dave. Well, Dave would have to wait. I ignored the text. So many horny men who wanted me. They would have to take a number and wait their turn.

Dylan seemed lost in the pleasure of sucking my erect nipple, but I wanted more.

"That feels great, Dylan," I said. It DID feel great, though not because of any skill on his part. He had no idea what he was doing, but it didn't matter.

I pushed him back and up with a hand on his chest. He looked at me, quizzically, eyes darting back and forth between my face and my tits.

"You have skills, Dylan," I said to my cub, lying. "I wonder if you might want to try them out elsewhere."

My hands drew apart the kimono at my waist, and I spread my legs. I showed him my pussy, exposed and bare from several laser treatments. Dylan's face betrayed his shock and desire.

"I don't suppose you've ever--," I began.

"Nuh... no," he said. "I haven't done that."

"Then I think it's time for you to start."

This time, I didn't have to use my hand to guide him. I just spread my legs wider, looking down and noticing that my pussy lips spread open too, exposing more of me to his eyes. Dylan's head descended.

"Lightly at first," I said. "Swirl around the outside, first, instead of diving too fast into the center."

To my pleasant surprise, Dylan understood. His tongue extended and ran lightly up and down each side of my pussy, lathering my outer labia with moisture and occasionally darting inward to kiss and tickle the inner lips.

I reached down between my legs with my hand and spread the folds of my hood apart until the pearl of my clit was exposed. Dylan seemed to get the hint. A fast learner!

His tongue tapped at my clit, and circled it, without applying too much pressure on its center right at once. Ah, the sheer exquisite pleasure!

I had further plans for Dylan--OK, I wanted him to fuck me, obviously--but I wanted him to make me come first. Despite his lack of expert skill, I was so fired up by my sexual conquest of him that I knew it wouldn't take me long to orgasm. How many times could a girl come in one day? I didn't know, but I didn't see any point in limiting myself.

My hands dug into the hairs on the back of his head as his tongue played with my clit and pussy. My hips bucked against his touch. I felt his needy tongue tip descend from the clit to the furrow between my lips, and it pushed inward. Oh! The sheer miraculous delight of it! With his tongue now inside me, I put a finger over my clit and rubbed it. And then, oh then, his tongue thrust into me more deeply.

My body rocked and exploded. The orgasm came without warning. I shook all over. My upper body fell back on the bed as Dylan continued to minister to me.

I thought I was going to pass out.

I didn't, but I came close. I think for about a minute or so I lay insensible on the bed. Dylan pulled back. I didn't know what was happening until after a minute or so I looked up and saw him watching my pussy closely. I looked at it too: it pulsed, still, lips opening and closing in an uncontrolled rhythm, in its post-orgasm denouement.

My pussy, at that point, had been fucked, fingered, and licked that day, and it was getting sore. But it didn't matter. There was one more thing I needed, and a little soreness wasn't going to get in the way.

"Dylan," I said.

"Yes, Kristen?" He was adorable, young, and cute, but I saw the man awakening in him. And oh God, was I going to awaken him, fully, at last.

"You're a virgin, aren't you?"

He hesitated before he answered.

"Yes."

"Then let me be your first. Fuck me, Dylan," I said. Despite my soreness, I spread my legs open, again.

He took his time removing his clothes. He was awkward and uncertain and self-conscious. His hands fumbled over buttons and belts and buckles. When he was done, his body perched pale and lean and nervous over me. His cock stood out hard away from his body, and it was longer than I would have expected.

This was going to be fun.

"Like this, baby," I said to him. My hands reached out to his hips, and I pulled him to me.

His tumescence touched my sex, still exquisitely sensitive from its recent orgasm. The touch was almost unbearable, but I was determined to bear it, anyway. I needed him.

"Go ahead," I whispered.

Once again, I felt from him that delicious combination of rank inexperience and urgent need: the cock tip pressing forward, needy but misfiring, hitting my pussy here and there, seemingly without aim, until at least it hit just the right spot, the slightest of gaps between my lips, and, finding that gap, exploiting its discovery.

Dylan's cock entered me. At last, after all the plotting, he fucked me.

"Just like that," I said, encouraging him.

He groaned.

It was a pleasure not only to feel his cock entering me but to know that my pussy was his first, to feel his bare skin on mine. Normally, being a careful (despite what one might think) and compulsive person, I insisted on a complete STD test before I'd take a cock without a condom, but since he'd said he was a virgin (and I felt confident he was being honest), I let him in without such precautions.

And what a cock! It wasn't porn-huge, but it was long enough and thick enough, and hard enough, that it filled me and stuffed me.

I groaned as well. It was no act. The pleasure was elemental and beyond words.

I looked down to see that he was all the way in, his pubic bone hitting mine, my fleshy lips gripping his rigid shaft. What a sight!

And what a feeling! I could imagine no better feeling than to be a slutty, wonton, hot wife, stuffed full by the cock of a man not my husband, knowing my husband didn't just tolerate my adventures but supported and encouraged them.

I was lucky. And deliriously stuffed.

But I needed more than stuffing. I needed real fucking. Dylan's equipment was up to the task, but his expertise was lacking. He needed my guidance.

"Ram me, Dylan," I said, my mouth whispering into his ear. "Ram me with that big cock."

He pulled back and pushed back hard.

"That's it, baby," I said. "Do it again and again. Take me."

He may have been an innocent cub, but he got the hint. He began thrusting into me in earnest. I noticed that while he did so he stared steadily at the union of our bodies, the joinder of his hard cock and my needy pussy, as though he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

I loved the power of my body over his desire--knowing that the sight and feel of me drove him mad with lust. I could see it in his eyes, in his grunts, in the wild abandon of the way his body moved against mine.

I pushed back. I did what I could to squeeze him with the walls of my pussy when he penetrated me to maximum depth. Thank goodness for Kegel exercises.

"How does it feel, Dylan?" I asked him.

"God," he said. "It feels amazing. Kristen."

"You feel amazing too," I said. "Your cock feels amazing. It's so big."

His eyes rolled back when I said that. Poor boy. It was so easy to drive him over the edge.

I didn't want him to finish TOO quickly, so I grabbed his hips and slowed his pace. He looked at me, quizzically.

"Take your time," I said. "There's no rush. Enjoy it."

He got that hint, too, slowing the pace of his fucking and getting into a steady rhythm. Oh, it felt good. On the outstroke, the length of his shaft left me until just the tip remained between my sore and used lips. He hovered there, for no more than a second, though it seemed like an agonizing eternity. Then--oh then!--he thrust back, fast and urgent, his cock lighting sparks inside me everywhere it touched me.

"You feel so good, Kristen."

"It will feel good to come inside me, won't it, Dylan?" I asked.

"God yes."

His body shivered. Mine shivered in response. I loved the erotic power I had over him. My hips pushed against him when his cock pushed into my pussy so I could feel him as deep inside me as possible.

We fucked missionary style, Dylan's body over mine and his hands braced against the bed. I grabbed one of his hands with mine and pulled it off the bed and laid it against my breast. I enclosed his fingers with mine and led them to the bare nipple of my breast until I felt his thumb and forefinger clamp over it. He pinched.

"Harder!" I called.

He pinched harder until it hurt. It was a delicious hurt.

I put a hand between my legs and with my fingers spread my pussy lips open so Dylan could have better access to me. The diamond of my wedding ring on my finger glistened and sparkled in the hotel room light from overhead, reminding me, once again, of what a bad wife I was, and of how much I liked being bad.

Dylan was no longer an innocent cub. He was a man, grown up at last, taking me as he wanted me. And I wanted to be taken.

I pushed against him with my loins, and I clamped down on that cock with my pussy muscles again.

Dylan's body shuddered, and I knew he wasn't far off.

"Grab my ankles, Dylan," I shouted. I didn't care if someone in the next room might hear.

Dylan did as I told him and held my legs aloft, my pink-painted toes pointed to the ceiling. I knew he could bury himself in me even more deeply this way, and I wanted that sensation, more than anything. Dylan seemed to like it too, because he grunted like an animal as his body rocked mine back and forth and he looked down at me moaning and sweating under him.

"Give it to me, Dylan," I said, panting.

"It's coming," he said, throwing his head back.

I savored the repeated assault of his cock into my body, craving every pore and cell. I wanted his fullness in me. I delighted in the indescribably melodious fugue of body on body. Dylan may have been a novice, but he was a thick-cocked, eager novice, and he satisfied me down to deep dark places I didn't know how to describe.

I grunted and sighed at his thrusts. He would make me come again; I knew it. The only question was, who would come first?

Dylan did, just seconds later. His body tensed and at the moment of truth it held fast to mine, and I felt the spurt of his semen into my pussy. I'd never felt a man's ejaculation quite that way before, but the flood of his spunk was so generous that there was no mistaking it. He pumped his virgin cum into me. My head lolled back, and I came too, my body shaking in great waves, my fingernails digging into his sides.

Oh, my cub!

We quivered and shook against each other as our mutual orgasms subsided.

Slowly, Dylan lifted his body off mine. His cock withdrew from my pussy.

I sat up and opened my pussy wide with my hands, revealing an enormous milky creampie between my swollen, gaping lips. Dylan and I sat mute on the bed as we watched it leak out of me.

I grabbed his face in my hands and kissed him hard, deeply. My tongue danced against his. I pulled away.

"Oh, that was good," I said. "Did you like it?"

For a few seconds, his mouth flopped like a fish, with no sounds coming out. But eventually, the words came.

"That was amazing, Kristen."

Damn right, it was amazing. He'd just fucked Mrs. Pillsbury.

We held and caressed each other for a few minutes, our bodies slick with sweat. Dylan's cum trickled out of my pussy onto the bed covers. I didn't care.

After a while, we stood up. Dylan got dressed. I didn't. I wanted his last image of me that night to be of me naked, with his cum streaming down my thigh.

When he finished dressing, he looked at me, uncertain. I hugged him and kissed him again.

"I'm glad I was your first, Dylan."

"Me too, Kristen." After a few silent moments, he walked to the door.

Dylan turned back to me from the door one more time before he left.

I put my hand on his cheek.

"Good night, cub," I said.

"Cub?" he asked me, eyes wide.

"Never mind," I said. Sometimes it was better not to have to explain things to men.

He left and I closed the door behind me. What a feeling of exaltation and contentment!

I staggered on unsteady legs back to the bed. My body was wracked with soreness.

My phone rang.

It was Rick, my faithful husband. I picked it up.

"So," he asked. "Did you get your cub?"

"Yes," I said, surprised at the shaky tone in my voice.

"You'll have to tell me all about it when you get back," he said.

"I won't spare a single detail," I said.

"You're a bad wife, you know that?"

"I'm your boomerang," I said.

"What does that mean?"

I didn't want to explain.

"Never mind. Just... when I get home, cuddle me before you fuck me, OK?"

"Jeez," Rick said. "You're bossy even when you're trying to be sweet. But OK."

"I'm Mrs. Pillsbury, damn it."

My husband laughed over the phone. My body melted. His laughter sounded like the music of water tumbling over rocks in a high mountain stream.

"Yes, you are, darling, and I wouldn't have you any other way."