Minister's Wife (Cukes and Grandes)

She said nothing, just positioned herself on knees and chest with her bottom high in the air, legs widespread. It was the most exposed position she had ever been in, bar none, and sent a tingle of anticipation through her. Her mind was crystal clear about this, what she was up to this particular moment. It was Hubby's fault, really – he had started her thinking, introduced her (visually, damn it anyhow!) to these rather interesting perversions, then when she had offered him the chance to explore with her, to consummate his fantasies – not to mention her own! - he'd gone wimpy on her. Damn, damn, DAMN!!

So – if not with Hubby, then here and now, with Jerry. She was going to carry this exploration, this experiment, through to its obvious conclusion. And do so right now, before she lost either nerve or opportunity. She looked over at their reflection, watched him kneel and place his face squarely against her wide-open, dripping-wet crotch. Damn, but he knew exactly how to come after her from any angle!

His face retreated, he stared at her privates, said "You do a magnificent job of shaving, Madam! My compliments. Just the way I like things! A genuinely lovely, delicious pussy you have!" He wet his middle finger in his mouth – it was an excruciatingly explicit, inviting, tingly motion, and placed the pulp of the tip squarely against the tight pucker of her anus. Their eyes met in the mirror, and he whispered "Here?"

She took a deep breath, nodded, and pushed back. The finger entered, she relaxed, sagging against the penetration as he told her "Bottoms are my absolutely favorite thing – you couldn't possibly have come up with a plan that would please me more. Your first time?"

She nodded, and he responded "Then it's got to be a team effort – you have a wonderful experience coming."

He was perfectly right in that. With her willing connivance, her breathing practically suspended in anticipation, together they took possession of her bottom delicately, carefully, strongly.

It was the single most sensual, dirtiest, sexiest, luscious thing she had ever done in her life.

Once inside, he played her like a Stradivarius, to heights of response she could not have imagined. But the most pleasing thing of all was when he finally couldn't hold back any more, when he rolled her over onto her back and put her legs up around his neck, slid fully into her bottom again face to face, put her fingers on her clit and ordered her to please herself to the max... and then let himself go utterly free and wild, pounding deeply into her, his balls slapping audibly against her buttocks as he bottomed out with every stroke, pounded with incredible enjoyment and relish, until he came long and hard and almost painfully.

He looked for all the world as if he were in agony, and it just went on and on and on. Not at all like Hubby, with his restraint and silence and brevity. Not to mention his required lack of illumination! She could hardly believe that SHE was responsible for all that happiness and pleasure and tension and release that Jerry was displaying.

In the very early morning, they woke. She had never, she thought, slept so wonderfully soundly. At the moment she was cuddled back against his front, spoon-fashion, his arms around her tight and lovingly. A couple of tiny wiggles revealed a solid erection pressing against her butt-cleft, and she wondered, drowsily, whether this fast recycle-time of Jerry's was, in fact, the norm? Perhaps she could ask him later?

When they moved, the gusts of warm moist air from under the sheet carried strong scents of their lovemaking. The bed was a screaming mess – what would the maid think? Who CARED what a maid thought, anyhow?

She sighed as he came fully awake, immediately slid down beneath the sheet, between her widespread legs, and re-awakened her pelvis with his marvelous tongue. It never occurred to her to wonder at his willingness, apparent eagerness, to re-engage with her nether parts after all their slippery, juice-producing earlier activities.

She left discreetly at 05:30, went home to change, then returned to the front desk at eight to pick him up for today's meeting number one. It was everything she could do to avoid leaning over to him, kissing him hard, and perhaps squeezing the cock she could see once again making a nice bulge in his pants. The sight was huge ego-gratification, making her smile slyly to herself – but she DID hope the tell-tale condition would go away before they got anywhere important or public, and it did.

"Why no remorse, no regrets?" she asked herself just once – without getting an answer.

The day's first meeting lasted until 10:30, and broke up right on time. They started their cross-campus hike to the next meeting. She warned him it was quite a ways, but the campus was pretty, he hadn't seen it all, and they both preferred to walk. Lynn found it very hard not to touch him as they strolled.

As they started past a smallish, modern, two-story building, he paused, asked about it. She didn't know – the doors were open, there was a name sign that listed no function or topic, and the parking lot was nearly empty.

He looked at her, then at his watch, and asked "How much more walking to go?"

"About five minutes. Why?"

That left twenty lovely, empty, unscheduled minutes. He took her by the hand momentarily and said "I have to go to the bathroom – this is as good a place as any. Come with me!"

They entered, climbed the stairs to the second floor. Down the corridor, a few office doors were propped open, but it was silent and there was nobody in the hall. He looked about: the bathrooms were right at the top of the stairs, both were handicap-equipped. He'd been hoping for that.

"Stay and watch the hall for me for a second..." he told her.

Then, much to her astonishment, he disappeared into the ladies' room. He was back in five seconds, having seen what he needed – three stalls, all standing empty with doors ajar, stall dividers all the way to the floor, and a big, roomy handicapped-stall over in the corner.

He grabbed her hand, looked about, said with a grin "You look almost terminally horny, lady! Me, too. Can't have that, gotta fix it quick." He tugged her after him into the room, propelled her, speechless, into the handicapped stall, and shut and locked the door behind them. As she stared wide-eyed, he loosened his trousers, dropped them to his ankles, sat down on the toilet, facing the door. His erection had returned with a vengeance, and her mouth went damp and slack at the sight. God Almighty, but the horniness of this man just might be the equal of what she was beginning to find in herself!!

"Up-skirt, and take off your panties! Now! Quiet! We just barely have time to do this right."

She sputtered, but helped as he turned her to also face the door, helped her raise her skirt, tugged down her panties. She kicked them free, let him guide her onto his cock. She settled with a soul-satisfied sigh, thoughts of being caught whirling through her head, but her insides churning unbelievably. The handicapped-aid rails gave her exactly the purchase she needed: his fingers danced on her clit, she bit her lip and groaned silently as another Grande engulfed her: in the middle of it, deep inside, she felt his cock leaping and shuddering with his climax. How long had it taken? Two minutes? Three? Certainly not more! This was incredible. And insane, too!

Then, just as they were settling down to regular breathing, the outer door squeaked open and they froze, she petrified, he immobilized by suppressed mirth. As the unknown woman sat down in the stall next door, Lynn realized that her panic was best replaced by something, and found herself in full agreement with Jerry – the situation was side-splittingly funny. Was this, she wondered, in fact her very first Zipless Fuck?

From next-door came a long, loud roar of pee, a few final spurts of diminishing volume, then the whirr of the toilet roll and a deep sigh. Lynn hoped this other woman would leave quickly – and she did. Not even a pause at the sink.

Lynn stood up, and as she leaned over for her panties, Jerry handed her a small folded pad of toilet-paper. She was puzzled for a second, then realized he was being thoughtful again – anti-drizzle protection for her panty-crotch.

He scooted her outside first to scout: all was clear in the hall, she called him to her, and in moments they were down the stairs and hiking steadily towards their destination, giggling furiously to one another the whole way.

They arrived about two minutes late; the others were still milling about, getting settled, so no harm done, and Jerry, thinking quickly, made some fairly loud comments about the distances on campus and about having had to practically run to get here on time, hence their being so red-faced and somewhat winded.

The meeting went well. Lunch afterwards was pleasant, four faculty plus themselves at the main cafeteria, surrounded by a thousand students. And then off to yet another meeting. They were finished at 3:30 – Lynn always scheduled high-intensity visits like this so that there was at least a small amount of free time for the guest, who often wanted to visit a friend or the bookstore, or just to go to their room and relax. Tonight, they had a dinner set for 7:30 with university mucky-mucks, but nothing else from now to then. Did he want to do anything special?

The twinkle in his eye let her know she'd produced an unintentional double-entendre, and she flushed.

He suggested "How about we drive over to the neighboring town, the other university? It's only about ten miles, isn't it?"

She agreed – an odd thing for him to ask after an all-day session on this campus, but it would be nice to drive around in private with him.

He had his reasons for going to the next town, but didn't explain. The familiar, short drive was more difficult than she expected – he slipped her skirt up as she drove, told her to concentrate on the road, and played mercilessly with the insides of her thighs.

He had a plan, and for her sake it required a high degree of anonymity. They dragged the main street – another generic small university town, old-town-ish, but it should certainly have what he wanted, among the inevitable tee-shirt and coffee shops. He was right – spotted the Luv-Bootique in the first block. He had her drive around the corner, then down the alley, which puzzled her no end. But he'd grown up in a clone of this town – downtown district one store wide on each side of the main street, alleys to the backs of all the stores – and discreet alleyway entrances.

They parked beside the Luv-Booteek's back door. He guided her inside – she protesting that she had never, he professed shock at her naiveté. Inside, she was stunned at the array of materials. Fortunately, the woman who was running the place was their own age, friendly and open, so he handed Lynn off to her, with minimal instructions – choose one pocket vibrator, one good plug-in model, and a minimum of three assorted dildos. Plus some good lube.

He stepped out of earshot, let the ladies chatter, and perused the pedestrian collection of porn and "sex manuals" and "instructional films" on the racks. After fifteen minutes they exited, Jerry having paid the bill, and with the saleswoman giving them a hearty "Darlin' now don't you go trying to use all that stuff at once, you hear me!?"

Back in the motel they dumped the collection out onto the bed. She looked at the heap, then at the clock. They still had two hours. Wonderful. But exactly what to do? All this gear was new to her, and she didn't know where to start. She said so.

Jerry shrugged, grinned, stood her up, kissed her solidly, and said "First thing is to get one another naked again. You do me, I do you. Slowly, though. Then, since I bought the gear, I get to specify the program.., at least at first. Okay?"

She kissed him as hard as she could. Her moisture-pump and nipple-inflating machinery were already at full speed. The lube, at least, was familiar – same brand as hers from the grocery, but 50% more expensive! He had her squat on the bed over the biggest dildo, watched lasciviously from the front as she impaled herself on it – having him watch so intently, so overtly, was extraordinarily arousing – not that she needed any more of that at the moment, but no man had ever actually watched her: it was an evil thing, certainly, to so thoroughly enjoy it. Wasn't it? "Decide later, Girl! Get busy with what is important!" she told herself.

Then he handed her the plug-in vibe. She tested it against her palm – quiet, powerful. Three intensities – nice, serious, and oh-my-god. She had never tried one of these, protested pro-forma, then applied it to her clit with the control set at "LOW" – and nearly imploded with the sensations. It was as if her pelvis were whirling down a drain, faster and faster. Her head went back, her spine arched, legs went all taut and shivering, and she came.

In the middle of the mind-blasting orgasm she vaguely felt Jimmy's hand on hers, and then he ratcheted the machine up to medium from low – her breathing stopped. She could NOT open her eyes. How long she went into suspended animation, disconnected from her normal universe, she did not know, but then she was gasping, the machine was off and beside them on the bed, and in her daze she was letting him guide her atop him, his cock replacing the dildo, reaching far up into her pussy.

She leaned forward, hands on his chest, and panted out "Oh my god, Jerry..." He gave her no quarter or respite, just smiled up at her, cupped her butt in his hands, and slid a long, questing finger up her bottom. She sighed: the finger retreated, which was disappointing. It was replaced by something very different, much more solid, cooler, much wider and bulkier. She looked in the mirror, studying where they came together. He was pressing, gently, the head of the big dildo against her anus. She shivered – it obviously couldn't go, wouldn't go – but then, even larger items HAD done so in all those "blacks and blondes" photos, and the thought was more than a little intriguing. Scary, too.

She whispered into his ear "YES! Yes, yes, YES! But Jerry, gently, please!? At least for a little while!"

Five minutes later he was stroking her ass with the dildo in perfect syncopation with his cock-thrusts, she had her hand down between them holding the mini-vibe against the side of her clit, and he was stoppering her mouth with his tongue, bottling up her near-screams of pleasure and not letting her decide to slow down.

A tiny piece of her watched in amazement as her body went tetanic over and over again, sweat drops from her nose splattering against his face and chest. Somewhere in all that sturm and drang, she felt him shudder inside her, and then begin to soften. She finally managed to pull her hand from between them, and collapsed onto him, gasping.

Only then did she notice for the first time how his hands never seemed to stop caressing, realized that they literally had NEVER stopped.

And he was whispering into her ear "Now you see why men are the weaker sex? You verdammit women get almost all the fun – the Ever-Ready Bunny of climaxers, that's what you are, lover! I envy you. A lot!"

They managed to get themselves presentable in time to make the dinner reservation with the President et al. Jimmy helped her with her panties and bra – quite the gentleman, carefully and lovingly making certain that her little beauties were properly settled and comfortable. And he was hard again by the time he finished. She carefully but regretfully tucked his cock into his nice clean pants and zipped it into its cage.

Lynn drove to a dark corner of the parking. Very discreet, she thought. As they walked alone together across the restaurant's parking lot he stopped her for a second, told her "I want you to sit across from me if you possibly can. And if you CAN, then just get up and go into the ladies, and remove your panties, as soon as possible."

She stared at him, then giggled hugely and blushed invisibly in the dimness. Inside, as official hostess, she did the introductions, they sat at a six-person round table, and she managed to get the seat across from him, per orders.

As conversation picked up, she excused herself. In the ladies room, she stared at the mirror – whoever this person was looking back at her, it could NOT be Lynn... no WAY. She thought ever-so-briefly about consequences, about sheer idiocy, about possible humiliation. But who could ever possibly know? And if they knew, why would they care? And if they cared, what could they do? And above all that, why should SHE care?

She ordered herself to quit catastrophizing, and stripped off the panties, tucked them into her purse.

Dinner was, for Lynn, a bit of an erotic blur. With all the others' attention focused on the cross-table conversation, nobody noticed her shiver as Jerry's naked toes slid up her calf and then between her legs. And nobody noticed her brief spasms of rigidity that recurred every couple of minutes, as if she were a mild epileptic on a seizure binge. At least Jerry let her relax when it was necessary, to order and to occasionally respond conversationally with noncommittal comments or noises. Lynn couldn't imagine the powers of concentration Jerry was bringing to bear, to be able to handle both her clit and this level of conversation simultaneously – it was absolutely unbelievable. By the time the main course arrived, she was exhausted.

She discreetly slid a hand into her lap, ejected Jerry's foot, and gave him the tiniest little head-shake to indicate that she had to quit. He nodded, twitched one eyelid at her, and complied.

After dinner the officials made their goodbyes, Lynn explaining as they broke up that she was still chauffeuring Jerry about. They parked the unmarked (thank heavens!) university car in the rear, just under his room's window. He invited her upstairs – to her great relief. She had been hoping that he wasn't so tired as to find no need of her company – she was already desperately horny again, an improbability she was coming to enjoy.

He suggested a hot shower – would have much preferred to go sit in the motel hot-tub, but that would be a real public no-no. The shower would do just fine. They stripped one another again – she loved this mutual undressing. He took his sweet time, disrobing her using only his lips and teeth, no hands. She didn't think it possible, but he managed.

At the bathroom door, she paused, told him with a red face that she had to pee, asked if he would mind waiting outside? He declined to wait, and she was shocked quite thoroughly when he insisted on coming in with her and watching. This was beyond the pale – even her Hubby never came into the bathroom when she was on the throne! Never, never never NEVER! But there was Jerry, smiling at her, obviously expecting compliance.

She threw a whopping, whole-body flush, looked at him hard, then smiled and said "Ok. Another first, Jerry, for me. No man has EVER seen me pee! I just hope I can do it with you there!"

She sat down, he squatted before her, placed his hand on her belly, slid it down her midline, middle finger over her clit, past her pee-hole, and deep into her pussy, cupping his hand beneath her.

"Now!" he said, wiggling her embedded finger against the back wall of her full bladder.

He was going to drive her CRAZY – how did he know all these things to do?

"Really? You mean it?"

"Really!" he replied. She took a deep breath and strained, then relaxed, and out it came with a whoosh. Her face bloomed crimson, but her body responded violently to the interior waggling of his finger as she emptied. The sensations were the strangest rush! There was erotic material everywhere in life, with this man! When she was done, he slipped himself from her, said "OK – NOW we need that shower."