It's a Start: Josie's Version

I never thought about it, but remembering my own experiences, nodded yes.

"Watching is really erotic. Would you like me to show you?"

"You don't have to," I started to say, but he pulled me higher on him, and began to suckle at my breast. Oh, that felt good.

"Kneel," he said. "Kneel over me."

My knees were about at his waist, and I did what he asked, and knelt there.

He put his hands on my waist. Was he going to lift me, center me on his cock and enter me? I was so ready for that, ready to feel him in me, but that's not what happened.

He pulled instead of pushed, until my knees were at his shoulders, and he put his arms under me, and around me, and his fingers were at my groin.

"Kneel up a little higher," he said. "You can hold onto the head board if you want, but move up a little more" – he pulled me higher until my cervix was right above his chin.

"Now, look down. Watch me!"

I could see him and feel him spreading me – my clitoris was right there: my little erection, exposed!

Then his tongue touched it.

My legs went weak. I watched and felt as I was spread and touched and licked and nibbled on until the sensations were too great and I sagged down, post orgasmic weakened, with no muscle left to hold me up.

"We're not done, you know," he said as he held me and comforted me.

I thought about Tony. Was he still downstairs, waiting? Is that what he wanted?

As my strength came back I moved down so I could kiss him again, kiss that mouth that was wet with me. I've read some women don't like to kiss their man after he had done cunnilingus on her. Those women are stupid!

"Do you want me to go down on you now?" I asked this accomplished lover.

"Only if you want to. What I want now is to be in you."

"I want that too," I told him, and started to roll off him. He stopped me from doing that.

"Get on your knees again, on me."

I did that.

"Even better, squat over me," he said, and I did, my feet about at his hips. "You can hold yourself up with your hands on my shoulders," he told me, "but move down over me, and watch while I rub you."

He was moving his cockhead along my slit, I could see it starting to enter, and could feel it spreading me.

Then he gripped himself tightly. "Lift up, move down on me, take me only as fast as you want. I'll be still while you do that," he said.

I lifted and then moved down, watching as that big head spread me. His penis seemed to bend just a little bit, then straighten as I felt it and saw it shoulder aside my lips and slip into me.

I slid down that pole, taking him a little at a time, moving down, then up not quite as far, and down a little more. Each up movement showed a wetter and wetter shaft, and with each downward movement I took in more and more of him. I could feel it moving parts of me aside so it would fit.

One part of me cried out: "this isn't soft sex anymore, this is the real thing, this is adultery, this is what your husband wanted you to do!"

The other part of me, the animal part, saw that shaft disappearing, and I let myself go, until my whole weight was on his groin. He was fully in me: I was as penetrated as a woman could be.

We were both making little movements, moving with one another, him probing, me, moving to be probed in just the right spots.

He made a movement and I was no longer in the superior position. He mounted me in a classic missionary posture, between my legs.

"I want you now," he grunted, and his own lean body began making long thrusts. I looked between us, at that connection between us, at that penis, that piston, moving in and out of me – not fast, he wasn't moving like those porn stars do. No, he was long, slow, and powerful. Each thrust started with his cock's head almost out of me and ended with his pelvis welded to mine, pushing deep in me, pushing me deep into the bed.

I was being fucked by an expert, it was exquisite!

Somehow, after some minutes, I thought I could feel him lengthening, I thought his penis was getting even warmer.

"I'm close," he warned.

It wasn't a lie when I said "I am, too."

He made a stroke, then another one.

"Would it be better if I pulled out? I could do that," Brian said. He may have sounded considerate and in control but his face was flushed, he really was close.

"No!" I almost shouted to him. "Stay in me! Do it in me, I want you in me, come in me, that's where your cock belongs, where your semen belongs! Finish fucking me!"

Did I say that? Somewhere in there I had another small orgasm, and my woman's instincts took over. I wanted to satisfy this man.

His pace increased, he was spending more time pushed deep in me, less time stroking, and I reached between us, took him between my fingers and began stroking him, masturbating him into me as I felt the pressure of his pelvis on mine, felt his squeezing my hand between us.

"Let it go, don't hold back." My thumb was on along the top of his shaft, my fingers under it, and my fingertips could finally feel a surge, then another and another, as he emptied himself deep inside me.

Then he was done.

I could sense a softening of that cock, a completing of the act. There was a small resting time, then he ever so slowly pulled away, that only partially hard member withdrew, still wet, trailing a translucent white fluid.

"I'm done, empty," Brian said, relaxing next to me.

A few minutes later he asked "Will you stay the night?"

"I can't," I told him. "And Brian, today, tonight? It's only this a one time. I hope you understand."

"I know that and accept it, Josie. It was good – no, great – but not something we should do again."

He paused. "Are you all right, do you resent what happened?"

"Of course not." I kissed him while I said it.

"I didn't think so, but a man like me can't be too careful."

I could understand that, but that was twice this evening he said worried about sexual harassment.

"Something happened to you once, didn't it?" I wanted to know.

"Some woman tried to make something happen," he said, "but nothing came of it."

I had a sudden insight. As carefully as I could, I looked around the room and saw some things that heightened my suspicions.

I nuzzled into his neck, let my hand drift over his penis; still long, but soft.

"Brian, I can understand that you have to be careful, but I'm sorry you didn't trust me."

He didn't say anything, he just stiffened a little under my hand.

"I think you are making a video of us tonight. I think that's how you can be sure no one you have sex with can claim you forced them."

He paused for a minute. "I knew you were intelligent, I didn't appreciate you were as street smart as you are, too. I couldn't be sure, and couldn't take the chance, but I wanted you. No one ever sees the DVDs unless someone threatens me."

I thought for a moment. "I'll trust that you mean that, that you'll never show them. And we are still being recorded, aren't we?"

He nodded.

"I don't think you can risk them becoming public any more than I can, Brian."

He nodded again.

I kissed him again. "I'm sorry you didn't trust me enough, but I understand." "But now, there's one thing I want from you."

We talked and touched and caressed for a few more minutes, then I kissed him again and left the bed.

I cleaned up a little. It wasn't hard to get dressed, I wasn't wearing that much, was I?

Tony was still in the lobby, waiting, a look of anguish on his face. "Let's leave a car here, we can pick it up tomorrow, I want to drive home with you beside me," he said.

We drove home together, holding hands.

"Did it happen?" he asked when we were finally in our bed.

I nodded yes, waiting for him to ask me about everything and then to fuck me.

"Josie, honey, I'm sorry I ever asked you to do that. It drove me crazy being downstairs while you were, were, uh, making love with him. It tore me apart. I watched the elevators, hoping you would be calling one to go to the 14th floor and bring you back to me. I watched for an hour, waiting and hoping, knowing by then it was too late." He was almost crying.

It was as though a cloud lifted in my life and the sun came through, a clearing after a storm. There was nothing he could have said that would have made me feel better.

I found myself holding him: we were both crying.

We comforted each other for a while and then I told him I wanted to bathe.

We showered together. It was almost a ritualistic cleansing, a removal of something that could have hurt our marriage.

Later we made love. Not sex, love, a man loving a woman, and a woman loving her man. There were no orgasms, just sweetness, joy, and tears.

And forgiveness, too.

When the sun came up he went to the bathroom and brought the RU 486 tablets to me.

I took one.

"We're not going to ever use the rest of them, are we?" he asked.

I answered by dropping them one at a time in the running hot water in the sink. "Never," I agreed.

He went to that New Jersey conference alone.

Another month and a half went by, it was the holiday season.

We had a quiet Christmas Eve at home, it was perfect for two people who had recently tested their marriage and found it stronger than ever.

"Tony, on the other side of that mountain we climbed, you said something I want to talk about."

I guess I don't have to explain 'the mountain' was a code we used for what happened in October.

"We already agreed we can talk about anything we want to," Tony reminded me.

"You told me you masturbated, and said I had a choice. You said you could think about having sex with another woman, or me having sex with another man. Remember?"

He nodded yes.

I had to ask: "What do you think about now?"

"Us," he said.

"Only us?"

I reminded him we said there'd be no secrets. "Sometimes I do think about women I've known, don't you sometimes think about other guys?"

I agreed that I did then asked him "Do you ever think about what happened last October? Does that excite you sometimes too?"

"It shouldn't, but it does, yes. But I never want to do that again. Sometimes I wonder what happened in that room, but I will never ever ask you to tell me. That was an awful thing I wanted you to do, I don't want, oh I don't know, somehow get some sneaky pleasure from it."

"But you wonder what it was like?"

"I do."

"Honey, I didn't know it, but Brian Big was a careful man. He never wanted to be accused of rape or sexual harassment, so he always had small video cameras running in his bedroom."

Tony looked at me with a puzzled expression on his face. "He filmed you?"

I handed him a small package. "Here's a DVD of some of the hottest scenes. It's OK if you think about them when you masturbate. Merry Christmas, honey."

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

Thanks for reading and voting.

Josie.