Mature Affair Ch. 03

George texted me a few days after the gala. "I did what you wanted," his message read. "When can we get together?"

I gave him my address and some dates, and we settled on a weekday afternoon. That afternoon, Dylan called and asked if I would like to come over for an early supper and whatnot. "I'd love to," I said, "but I've got plans. I'll call you later tonight."

"What kind of plans?" he asked.

"George plans," I told him. "I'll tell you all about it later on."

When George arrived, he started excitedly telling about what had transpired the night of the affair. "Whoa, slow down," I admonished him. "Sit down, let's have a glass of wine and relax, and you can tell me the story."

George sat on the sofa while I poured two glasses of Chardonnay. I sat next to him and rested my hand on his thigh. He took a sip, and I said, "All right, let's hear about your night."

George put his glass down and began telling me about the night of the party. His wife was surprised by his suggestive remarks on the dance floor, but eagerly so, and she let him know it. At home, he had gone down on her, which was unusual for him, and between the novelty and her enthusiasm, had really gotten into it. She apparently had had five or six orgasms in about an hour, then she rolled George over on his back and climbed on top, swallowing his erection into her chubby vagina. She then had one more big one as he went off inside her, and now it seems she has a newfound respect for him.

George's story had begun to arouse me. I told him, "Well, keep after her, George. Don't let it fade, and hopefully you can keep things hot for a long time." I finished my wine and began unbuttoning my blouse as George stared, wide-eyed. When my breasts were bare, I took his hands and placed them below my nipples. My boobs are heavy, and they hang down, but they still point straight ahead, which Dylan loves to point out to me. George hefted them in his two hands and fondled my nipples, which began to crinkle. We stood up and I began undoing his trousers. When they were on the floor around his ankles, I started on his shorts, intentionally fumbling around a bit and reaching inside for a touch or two. When I finally lowered his underwear, his cock was hard, but small as I remembered from the gala, maybe three and a half or four inches, and his bush was sparse. His scrotum, however, hung way, way down, as if he'd been patiently stretching it for thirty years. I lifted his balls in my hand and imagined them slapping me on the ass. Then I grasped his little penis and kneeled down as I held it in front of my face.

I'm not a size queen. Don't get me wrong, I like a big dick as much as the next gal. But on a list of what's important, it's probably about Number 27. I've enjoyed men with all size penises, big and small. When they're large, I compliment them on it, which they love. When they're small, I don't tell them, "It doesn't matter," or, "It's big enough," because they know I'm lying. I find other things to compliment them on, their skill, their gentleness, their attitude. If there's nothing to compliment a man on, then I've made a mistake, and probably won't be seeing him again. But I'm never disappointed because a man has a little cock. So many men do. Dylan's penis is, of course, noticeably large without being huge, and he has the skill and gentleness as well.

I remember being with this Latin boy once. He was very young and very pretty. Slender, with black hair and no beard. His black pubic hair was neatly trimmed and had a sheen on it, and his penis was short and very thin, with an uncircumcised foreskin well past the end of his glans even when erect. When he climbed on top of me, he knew exactly where to put it and what to do with it. He used it like an artist uses a brush, like a master violinist uses his bow. He kept me right on the edge for the longest time, and when he finally brought me off, it was like rolling thunder. When I finished, I couldn't even move. I just lay there. He brought his limp cock right in front of my face, and all I could do was suckle on that foreskin.

I teased George's cockhead with my tongue, working the cusp on the bottom of the glans, and touching his pee hole. I licked circles around the head a few times, then took the whole shaft into my mouth and sucked deeply, while gently tugging his enormous sack. He let me work his dick for a while, and then I stood up again to slide off my slacks and panties. I placed his hand on top of my pubic bush, and said, "Okay, George. Do to me the same as you did to your wife."

I led him into the bedroom and he eased me down on the bed, parted my legs and knelt between them, and he started, very gently, to lick my vagina. He ran his tongue all over my hairy mound, went up and down my outer lips, and finally parted them and found my protruding clitoris, going all around and then lightly over it, up and down. He actually was quite good, and I became very wet as my arousal grew. He slid his hands under my asscheeks and pulled me to his face as he slowly increased the pressure of his licking. I began to feel little shocks running from my vulva down to my anus, which gradually grew stronger. Slowly I tightened up down there, and my clit swelled to the size of a fingertip. I rolled my hips around, trying to rub my pussy harder against George's mouth. Just as I approached my climax, I let go a huge squirt, getting George in the face, and then I came. Big and hard. And I came. And I came some more; it felt like it went on forever. The guy was good!

When my contractions subsided, George immediately went back to being gentle, but did not stop licking, avoiding direct contact with my button but going all over my labia and my vaginal opening. After a bit, he once again picked up the pace and the pressure, and kept it going until I exploded once more under his face. And then again. And one more time, the fourth orgasm leaving me completely wrung out, lying before him, my eyes shut and my weakened legs spread wide.

George crawled up my body and began sucking my left breast. I felt his little erection poking my thigh. I rolled over on my belly and forced myself up on my hands and knees. "Fuck my pussy, George," I groaned. "You said you wanted to put it in me. Let me have it. Fuck me good and hard. Fuck me all night." He climbed up behind me, put his hand on my ass, took his penis in his other hand and found my wet hole with it. One thrust and he was all the way inside me. He began pumping in and out, his heavy balls swinging against my mound. My clit, sensitive from all the earlier climaxes, began responding again and I felt my vagina start to clamp down, getting ready to come once more. George pounded me harder as I fucked it back at him. I squirted again, soaking his thin pubic hair, then let go an uncontrolled shriek, "I'm coming! Coming!"

"Me too!" George yelled, as he filled my pussy with his come, and everything went black. He kept humping me until long after my orgasm finished, his cock went limp and fell out of my cleft, I collapsed on my belly and he collapsed against me.

After a long time, I started to come around. "Damn, George, I told you to do what you did to your wife, but, damn!" I rolled him over on his back, moved my head down and began to suckle on his tiny, spent dick.

"Yeah," he replied. "Not bad for a hand tool, huh?"

"Oh, George, don't take that seriously. I was just messing with you that night. For staring down my dress at my titties. This was amazing! You were amazing!"

"You were pretty incredible too," he responded. "Can we get together again?"

"Oh, George, George. This was a one time thing. You're married to a hot little wench, and I'm committed as well. Perhaps we can get together sometime, on a rare special occasion. I'll let you know if and when that can happen. In the meantime, keep that wife of yours hot and wet. Now go jump in the shower so you can get home." He did.

While George was in the shower, I phoned Dylan. "Wanna come over?" I asked. "I have something to show you."

"What?" he asked.

"It's a surprise," I told him. "Just be here in about thirty minutes. No sooner." When he arrived, George was gone. I was disheveled, wearing only a short, light robe, and I'm sure I reeked of sex.

Dylan walked in the door and took a good look at me. "George?" he asked.

"Yes, George," I replied. "He was really good, and I want to tell you all about it, but, first . . . , well, have you ever had a creampie? Not second seating in a threesome, but a real, honest-to-God cuckold's creampie, when your woman's been out fucking without you?"

Dylan paled a little bit. "No," he answered. "I never have."

"Want one? Because I'm full of George right now, and if you want it, you can have it. Put your face in it. Stick your cock in it as soon as it's hard. No need to warm me up, I'm soppin' wet down there already. Come in the middle of his come, in my pussy. If not, I'll jump in the shower. It's up to you."

Always one for a challenge, Dylan reached beneath my robe and slipped a finger between my lips and into my sticky-wet vagina. "You're on," he said, keeping his hand on my mound. I began undressing him so he could keep fingering me, only moving his hand long enough to slide his shirt sleeve off, then opening his pants and slipping them down. His erection was obvious under his shorts, and as I pulled them down, freeing his big dick, he slid my robe off, walked me to the bedroom and sat me down on the edge of the unmade bed.

Parting my thighs, Dylan got down on his knees before my pussy, visibly full of George's semen. The look in his eyes was electric. He froze, not sure whether to lick, suck or finger my hole. Making up his mind, he closed his eyes and went in with his tongue. At first he probed into my vagina as far as he could, then scooped some come and licked it all over my clit. "Don't wait too long, baby," I whispered. "I'm ready. Climb up here and shove it in!" He stood up, spread my legs wide, put his cock at my vaginal opening and slid it right in. It felt incredible, and he began pumping, long forceful strokes. "That's it! Fuck me, baby! Fuck me with your big dick! It's so much bigger!"

It didn't take Dylan long to finish, shooting a big load deep in my vagina. He held me tightly, and when he withdrew, the mixed come leaked out of me and onto the bed. He collapsed on the bed, his mouth on my nipple and nibbled it gently as I, not having climaxed, fingered myself to one more orgasm before closing my eyes and relaxing.

I awoke in the middle of the night, and in the dim light I could see Dylan lying on his back, his big penis hard again and pointing at the ceiling. I slid closer to him, held his shaft in my hand, and stroked it very gently until I dropped off again to sleep. Dylan never awakened.

When I woke again, it was getting light and Dylan was still lying on top of the covers, masturbating. He often plays with himself when coming around in the morning, but it's usually not focused. He pulls his penis, runs his fingers through his big bush, fondles his balls and tugs on the hairs, stops, goes limp, starts again and regains his morning erection, keeping it going until he's ready to get up. Mostly, he is not trying to reach orgasm, just jump-starting his brain.

This morning was different. He was purposefully stroking his hard cock, eyes closed and intent. "What'cha doing?" I asked as my head cleared.

"Just playing with it," he said. "Feel free to jump in anytime."

"I think I'd rather watch," I told him. "Shoot me a big one."

"I'll do my best." Dylan redoubled his efforts, rubbing his big, beet red cock. I cradled his nuts in my hand and rested my head on his chest. I began telling him about George's visit the day before, about his tiny dick and his great big ballsack, the cunnilingus, the orgasms, and all of it.

"Mmm hmm," mumbled Dylan, continuing to pull on his stiff penis. I grabbed the bottle of lube from the drawer and squirted some all over his swollen glans. He speeded up the action and I returned my attention to his hairy scrotum.

I started addressing Dylan directly. "Did you like fucking my pussy full of George's come last night? Did you like licking it out of me?"

Dylan turned his head to look at me. "I did," he said. Then he clenched his teeth and rubbed even faster, and a huge spurt of come flew out of his dick, high in the air, and landed on his face, followed by two more, landing on his chest and belly. He kept stroking while a couple of littler ones dribbled out and down his shaft.

As Dylan's erection melted away, I remarked, "That looked like a good one. Now give me a licking." He nodded and I turned and straddled him, with my pussy over his face and my head down near his crotch. He reached up and put his hands on my bottom, pulling my hairy slit tight against his mouth, and licking everywhere. He spread my asscheeks so he could see the line of black hair reaching up inside my crack, then he tugged on a few of my pubic hairs with his teeth and pressed his nose against my anus. My clitoris tightened up, and Dylan found it with his tongue, commencing a very determined licking. I held and kissed his limp, sticky dick, which thickened somewhat but did not again become erect.

Dylan continued licking my little bump as my arousal grew and I became wetter. Just before I was about to come, I dumped a load of wetness all over his face. Taken by surprise, he halted momentarily, then returned to licking my clit, fast and hard. I grunted as I came, but did not shriek as I often do. I took it for as long as I could, then tightened my thighs together over Dylan's face, to make him stop.

After I relaxed a bit, I turned around again and snuggled against Dylan, resting my head on his hairy chest. He patted my bottom, then reached down below my chin and lifted my face for a kiss. We kissed for a long time, and Dylan got hard again, his stiff penis poking against my hip. We continued kissing, fully exploring each other's mouths with our tongues.

Presently, I jumped out of bed, and said, "I'm going in the shower. I need to hose myself out." Dylan followed me in with his big erection and we washed each other before dressing and leaving for work.