Lothario

"That's so manipulative! And you went along?"

"Cyr, I care for you deeply. You know that. What you do is critical, actually saves lives. We're all just trying to help."

Cyr glared at his mentor. "Right. You were only trying to help me." Cyr was peeved, annoyed at being manipulated, but he was also aroused, again immersed in the chain reaction of his cock twitching, provoking desire, which made his cock twitch again.

"Let me help you in another way, right now." Rebecca's voice was sultry as she gracefully lay back on the bed, seductively parted her thighs and began caressing her vulva.

The sheen of the dewy pussy lips of the woman who had taught him so much about sex, about making love, catapulted Cyr's mind up to the level of his aroused body. When she said, "Take me, Cyr, fuck me like there's no tomorrow," he leapt on her and levered her legs high over her head. Rebecca whimpered her assent as he folded her in half, driving her knees to the mattress next to her head.

After a brief, passionate kiss, the fucking began. The bedsprings squeaked their distress as Cyr's rapid, relentless strokes rocked the bed like it was a tiny raft tossed about on stormy seas. His leonine breaths filled the room, drowning out Rebecca's whimpers of delight.

As the fucking went on and on, those whimpers morphed into moans, then gasps, and finally cries, as orgasm after orgasm ravaged her.

When she had had enough, then suddenly way, way too much, but Cyr continued fucking her madly, Rebecca pleaded, "Cyr, please come! I can't take any more."

"I'm trying," Cyr gasped as he accelerated his screwing tempo yet again. "It's just not working..." he muttered as his hips became of blur of motion. To no avail. Having come so often and so massively, his system had seized up, stalled, and was unable to create the new semen required for completion of his mating with Rebecca.

Seeing her friend in real and increasing distress, and realizing that, though Cyr was doing his best he was unable to finish, Marla solved the problem. Cyr bellowed like a bull stuck with a banderilla when her finger thrust up his ass, and then again when it began plowing furrows in his prostate. Once her other hand captured and began working his balls, Cyr's system was jump started to full throttle.

The squishy sounds of sex, the loud slaps of Cyr's hips against Rebecca's ass as he bludgeoned her, and his wild grunts and growls filled the room as the boiling semen barged up his pulsating penis and erupted, time after time after time.

***

Cyr shivered and shuddered as he frantically prone-boned Elsa into the mattress. Her orgasming, convulsing vagina raked and clawed at his scalded, burning cock, and, as his final gush of boiling semen erupted and seemed to incinerate the head of penis, he recalled how this was NOT supposed to happen.

At their meeting two days prior, Cyr's boss had given him a unique assignment: not to seduce a woman. Elsa Leone was the wife of Allan's friend, Kirk, who had come to Allan with a bizarre request: he wanted Allan to try to seduce Elsa, to test his wife's fidelity.

Allan objected, saying the whole idea was absurd. First of all, Elsa knew Allan, and she wouldn't risk a tryst because he might blab to Kirk. It wouldn't be a true test. Second, Allan pointed out that the scenario was exactly like the plot of 'The Ill-Advised Curiosity,' a story within a story from Don Quixote. In it, Lothario's friend convinces him to try to seduce his wife and it has disastrous consequences. As could Kirk's crazy idea.

But Kirk persisted. He knew about IFAW, had met Cyr, and when Allan refused to test his wife, Kirk insisted that he assign Cyr the job. Seeing if Elsa would resist the charms of a handsome, well-honed seduction machine would be a legitimate test. Though Allan objected, his friend was adamant and Allan eventually capitulated, saying that he would deploy his most effective IFAW agent.

Then, when he met with Cyr, he told him to fake it. Make a show of trying to get Elsa into bed, but not actually have sex with her, NO MATTER WHAT. Even if Elsa did prove willing. Then Allan could give a positive report to Kirk and the matter would be settled. To Allan it seemed an ideal first assignment back to work for Cyr, as any issues with potency would be irrelevant.

Ever the good soldier, Cyr read IFAW's research dossier on Elsa, did his due diligence, and, after Kirk cleared the field by leaving town on an extended business trip, Cyr made first contact at Elsa's Yoga class. It was in a swanky spa in the north of town, and, as it was at 11 AM when most drones are slaving away for wages, all the other students were well-to-do women. Attractive, fit, mature women. Who all got twinkles in their eyes when they first saw Cyr. And then got tingles in their privates when they saw his tight, revealing outfit, the one that Rebecca had dressed him in just for the occasion.

Though he recognized Elsa from pictures in the dossier, Cyr was startled, first by how much more beautiful and sensual she was in person, with long blonde hair, D cups, a classic face and voluptuous body that promised exciting hills and valleys to explore. Then Cyr was surprised again when her sultry animal magnetism caused his recalcitrant cock to twitch. And swell.

Once class began, he pseudo-surreptitiously looked her over, allowing her to catch him checking her out several times. All according to Allan's Seduction Rules.

He loved the foxy, come-hither look in Elsa's eyes when, after the class ended, he walked directly up to her. She quickly scanned the room, making certain that the other women noticed. And were suitably envious. Cyr apologized for ogling her, obviously insincerely, then abruptly excused himself.

"Well played," he thought to himself as he walked away, recalling the appropriate seduction rule. "Once a woman takes the bait, set the hook by ending the encounter, leaving her wanting more."

Purely by coincidence Cyr attended the same poetry reading open-mike night that evening. As he put his name into the queue, he made certain not to notice his target, and chose to sit at one of the bistro's 3 long, communal tables. Next to a very attractive ingénue much younger than Elsa. They made eyes and small talk until the event began.

When his turn came, Cyr chose to recite Emily Dickinson's "I started Early - Took my Dog." From memory, as always. Rebecca, whose tutoring of Cyr in all things cultural had included learning poetry - Why? Do any women like poetry? - had found it a curious choice until she heard him give the same rendition he offered now.

Cyr loped quickly and easily through the first two stanzas, then lowered his voice, slowing to a sensual crawl for "But no MAN moved me - [then faster] till the Tide, Went past my simple shoe - [rapidly, excitedly] And past my Apron - and my belt And past my bodice, too. [Slow, sensual crawl again] "And made as HE would EAT ME UP," [then fast, rushing to:] "And HE, HE followed CLOSE BEHIND - I felt his silver heel Opon my ankle - Then my shoes would overflow with PEARL." After relishing the taste of the pearl, Cyr galloped to the end.

The crowd, mostly women, had been amused and intrigued that a man, a large, ripped, highly attractive specimen, would choose Dickinson. Then they were at turns titillated and scandalized at his emphasis on "Eat me up," and finally swooned at the way he rolled out "Overflow with Pearl." They all licked their lips, savoring the gooey white liquid.

The applause was deafening, as were the insistent pleas for Cyr to recite another. When the moderator joined in the request, Cyr modestly acceded, and chose Keats' "La Belle Dame Sans Merçi." He changed his voice, made it lower, more noble when, in the third stanza he was the dying knight speaking. He looked directly at Elsa when he recited, "I met a lady, in the meads, full beautiful..." and again at, "Her hair was long, her foot was light, and her eyes were WILD!" Once more at, "She looked at me as she did love, and - made - sweet - moan."

After he cruised to the finish, the room again erupted in applause. Declining to recite another, Cyr was just leaving the small stage when one of the few other men in the room arose and objected. "Really, young man, when one recites the work of a master, you owe it to him to get it right."

Cyr heard the collective gasp and could feel the tension in the room. He sensed how offended the women were that he had been challenged. He who had so entertained them and spawned so many lurid, fun fantasies with his excruciatingly slow, "She looked at me as she did love, and made sweet moan." He smiled at his challenger and blithely said, "Actually, I believe I did. I thought I nailed it." The audience chuckled with him.

"No, you got the very first sentence wrong. It should end with..."

"Knight-at-arms?" Cyr quickly interrupted. "Yes, that is indeed the end of the first line in the version found in some collections, but it is taken from the 1819 letter Keats wrote to his brother. When he published the poem the next year he changed it to 'wretched wight,' which is far more evocative of the overall deathly pallor of the work. While knight-at-arms persists in some editions," Cyr gestured to the book in the man's hands, "it probably makes sense that, when such a discrepancy exists, the version Keats himself chose to publish should take precedence. Don't you agree?"

As the man returned his cool smile, Cyr felt the relief in the room, the collective sigh of satisfaction that the interloper who had disrupted the wonderful post-poem erotic aura had been dispatched. After Cyr declined the avid requests to recite again, he meandered about the room, scanning the gathering. Knowing all eyes were on him as he searched for a seat. Several women hopefully slid sideways on their benches, ostentatiously making room next to them.

"Ah, it's you!" Cyr exclaimed when he happened upon Elsa. "What an unexpected pleasure, to run into you again. Do you mind?" When the woman on the long bench next to Elsa didn't mind - she got to sit next to Cyr; who knows what might happen? - and scooted over, he deftly slid in between them and sat, his hip coming to rest against that of his target. Pretend target. He smiled at her, thinking that this overt show would surely lend credence to the idea that he was actually trying to seduce Kirk's wife.

After three more readings Elsa had had enough, and Cyr loved her dulcet alto and how her breath - she leaned in very close - tickled his ear when she whispered, "You know, I really have to go. Would you do me the huge favor of driving me to my car? I wasn't sure where this place was and parked quite a ways away."

"Of course, but we'd best hurry before the next reader begins." Cyr stepped over the bench and Elsa took his offered hand as she swung her legs over. He let her see his eyes widen as they glanced into the dark cavern up her skirt created when her knees parted slightly more than necessary.

Teasing gambit. Accepted.

Once in Cyr's classic BMW Z3, Elsa lounged back, stretching, spreading her arms wide. One hand inadvertently fell on Cyr's thigh. Oops. But it stayed there.

"Turn in, just there, then drive around to the back." Cyr did. The parking lot for the restaurant was only half full, and it was very dark in the rear. When Elsa said, "Stop here, please," Cyr did, and as he parked he felt her hand on his chin. Elsa pulled his head to her and kissed him.

Cyr was immediately torn. In addition to her sultry erotic aura, Elsa knew how to kiss, and he felt his cock begin pushing against its restraints as it stiffened. But this seduction was intended to be fake, not supposed to actually happen. Conflicted, and wondering how to deal with this new development, Cyr hesitated.

Not Elsa. After she'd put his hand on her large opulent breast, her hand fell to his lap. Onto his rapidly engorging penis.

Stunned into inaction both by Elsa's aggressiveness and the sensations from his throbbing, non-Viagra-induced erection, Cyr was amazed at how quickly, how deftly, Elsa opened his khakis and snaked her hand under his boxers. Onto his stiff and twitching cock. She kept kissing him, pushing her tongue into his mouth as she moaned her deep-throated approval of the size of his package.

Having decided that he needed to stop this, and now, Cyr was just about to end both the kiss and the encounter, when Elsa abruptly pulled her mouth from his and dove onto his cock like a lioness pouncing on the neck of a gnu. His penis reported back the obvious: as skilled as Elsa was at osculation, her fellatio was even more expert.

She paused her head's bobbing just long enough to cover his shaft with saliva, then resumed sucking the tip while her hand skillfully slid up and down his shaft. He'd never experienced a woman shaking her head while his penis was in her mouth, and marveled at how her tongue and lips polished his head to a throbbing shine.

Which sealed the deal.

By devouring his cock Elsa had confirmed her infidelity, so Cyr said the hell with it. In for a penny... Besides, he thought, this all was partly Rebecca's fault. His dance teacher was annoyed that, after she'd sneaked Viagra into his enchiladas and invited him to ravish her, he'd fucked her so long and so hard that she could hardly walk afterward. She'd had to cancel dance classes for the nest 2 days, and Rebecca had taken her revenge. Cyr's sexing mentor had delighted in brutally edging him over and over, making his body create oceans of cum, but not allowing the tide to flow.

It wanted out. Cyr's extreme horniness made him prime meat for lioness Elsa. As the semen began churning inside him, he started eagerly exploring her voluptuous, enticing 40-something body.

It was awkward, given the Beamer's bucket seats, but Cry did get his hand up her skirt. He'd just started to trace the damp, dewy camel toe in the crotch of her panties when Elsa pulled her mouth off his penis. "Cyr, this is very exciting and totally erotic. But it's so damned cramped in here. Let's go to my place."

"But what about your car? Where are you parked?"

"Silly man, I took an Uber. I just needed some ploy to get you alone so I could get my hands," Elsa's giggle was low and steamy, "And my mouth on you. Now, let's go. Take a left, and I'll direct you from there."

When Cyr began to stow his privates, Elsa coquettishly swatted his hand away. "No! I want a toy to play with on the trip."

Once her garage door closed behind Cyr's car, Elsa had again taken charge. She dragged him inside using his cock as a handle, then dropped to her knees, her hand caressing his balls as her mouth worked its magic.

Her teasing tongue was so effective that Cyr found himself having trouble keeping his governor in place - Rebecca's relentless edging had lit the fuse - so he swept Elsa into his arms. She pointed the way to her bedroom with one hand while keeping the other busy on his cock.

Once he tossed her onto the mattress, she wriggled out of her clothes while he quickly dispensed with his. Elsa licked her lips as he mounted the bed, her eyes locked on his penis. They ravenously fell on each other, kissing and writhing about, but Cyr won the wrestling match to decide who would do what to whom first. He put her on her back while he kissed down her body.

Elsa's wet and wild hairy pussy was glistening, and, after diving into the jungle, Cyr savored the seasoned flavor as much as the piquant aroma and syrupy texture as he lapped up her nectar. Though puzzled when she rolled to the side, he grasped her hips and managed to keep his tongue in her slit.

When Elsa settled back onto the bed, her hands in his hair were insistent, and, after it was clear that she'd tear it out by the roots if he resisted, Cyr let her drag his mouth off her pussy and kissed his way up her succulent, perfectly age-ripened body.

Elsa's voice was raspy, tinged with arousal when she said, "Cyr, look at this." She shoved a paper in his face. "I was tested two days ago, am disease free, and have had not sex - alas - since. I happen to know you're clean, too, so please, PLEASE just stick that monster cock in my pussy and fuck me."

He did.

After Cyr had screwed her to two orgasms missionary, and she'd had another getting him off cowgirl, they both fell back on her bed. Panting and sighing, recovering from their frenzied, affectionate fuck. As their relaxed, free-flowing pillow talk drifted from one random topic to the next, what had been bothering Cyr came to mind and he asked, "Elsa, after you showed me your test results, you said you knew I had also been tested. It's true, but was that just a lucky guess?"

"No, Cyr. I'm aware that you were recently tested. That you are routinely."

"How do you know that?" This was becoming increasingly intriguing and Cyr probed deeper. "Just what DO you know, Elsa?"

Elsa rolled to her side, propped her head up on her hand, and smiled seductively. "A girl can't divulge all her secrets, silly. I just know."

Cyr's voice became insistent. "This was wonderful, truly hot and heavy sex, Elsa, but I'd really like to know what is going on."

"Hmm. Well, all right. It's a bit of a long story, but the gist is that Kirk, my husband, likes to watch other men fuck me. It's odd, I know, but he really gets off on it."

"What the hell! Is he here?"

"No, of course not!" Elsa reached out and began fondly toying with Cyr's heavy, still-oozing penis. "But he'll get to watch the video later."

"The video...?"

"Yes, darling boy. We have cameras mounted all around the house, and they are motion-activated." Elsa's chuckle was truly lascivious. "And we definitely were in motion."

Having been so relentlessly edged by Rebecca for days, Cyr's sexual system was at full power, and he felt his balls tingling and his cock erecting to Elsa's caresses as the truth finally dawned on him. "So, Kirk set this up? His approaching Allan was a ruse, designed to get you a sexual partner so he could watch? Really?"

"I hope you're not mad, Cyr. Everything I did, how attracted and passionate I felt towards you, was real. That was truly wonderful sex, maybe my best ever." After snickering, she continued, "At least, so far. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it, enjoyed me, too." She paused again, looking deeply into Cyr's eyes, trying to ascertain whether he was annoyed or put off.

Cyr found he wasn't. It had been truly great sex and he was amused at how Elsa had so adroitly seduced him, when all the while he'd been feigning seducing her.

Delighted that his penis continued to firm under her skillful manipulation, Elsa exclaimed, "You're amazing, Cyr! I'd so like to continue, and it seems that you are, shall we say, up for it?" Her giggle was almost girlish, but her vivacious manner made it not at all incongruous for a 40-something woman. "But first, are you fond of cocktails? There's one I've been having recently that is quite exceptional and I'd really like one now. Come with me." She tugged on his penis as she rose and when she had him on his feet, she scampered to the kitchen.

"It's a spicy gimlet," Elsa said as she took out the ingredients. "Come closer, Cyr, I want you to admire my bartending prowess."

Cyr realized that what she really wanted was to have his cock within reach, as she gave it frequent affectionate squeezes and brushes as she mixed the ingredients, doubling her recipe. "An ounce of gin - any will do, but I'm partial to Bombay, the original 1761 recipe; an ounce of lime juice - I squeezed it fresh just before the poetry reading; an ounce of simple syrup - I use a one-to-one ratio, sugar to water; and then the magic ingredient, an ounce of Ancho Reyes Verde. It's made with poblano peppers and gives the drink a wonderful spicy kick."

After another squeeze of his cock, Elsa added ice to the mixture, and Cyr enjoyed watching her ample breasts sway and bob as she energetically shook the shaker. "Get me two of those glasses, would you, darling? No, not the Nick-and-Noras, the old-fashioned glasses. You're right, most gimlets are severed straight up, but, for reasons you'll soon see, I prefer mine on the rocks."