tagLoving WivesMystery Fuck

Mystery Fuck


While I'm a fairly normal guy, I, Kent Brolin, have a few distinguishing aspects to my life, appearance, and personality.

I'm a little better looking, bigger, more fit, and intelligent than normal, though no movie star, super athlete, or genius. I got lucky and picked a career in a business that is both intellectually and financially desirable, and one that most days I can conduct from home. I'm normally reserved – shy even – when dealing with women and have been unlucky in love – dumped by two steady girlfriends and divorced by one wife (fortunately before I made lots of money) supposedly for being "too boring" and/or "not aggressive enough," according to each of them. "You're too nice a guy," was another common refrain from each of them – I guess that they wanted a jerk that was nasty to them.

I wasn't going to stop being a "nice guy," and helping other people because of these three bitches – but I thought that I needed to make some change to establish a rewarding long-term relationship.

That was my mindset on a fateful Friday when the temperature started out at 72 degrees Fahrenheit, but in early afternoon the second largest temperature drop from one hour to the next occurred in our city when a rain-producing front moved in. It was in the 40s and windy with driving rain as I drove my SUV behind a truck down a city street approaching a bus stop where five people were trying to huddle away from the downpour.

As the truck preceding me approached the bus stop it inexplicably swerved into a pond-like puddle causing water to splash onto all five of the expectant bus passengers, soaking them. As the soakees where yelling, crying out, or shaking, I stopped my SUV just past the bus stop. I offered to take them to my house, only two blocks away, to dry their clothes, and then drive them home.

The prospective passengers included an elderly white man, elderly black man, mature Hispanic woman, youngish white woman, and young black man. All except the young black man immediately jumped into my vehicle, but he allowed as how he wasn't as wet as the others and was in a hurry so that he would just wait for the bus.

I was able to pull directly into the garage of my house so that my passengers wouldn't get wetter. I gave them each a set of my sweat clothes, too big for all of them except for the elderly white man, but still wearable. After changing they put their clothes into my dryer, the two women took showers, one in each of my bathrooms, and I offered them all hot beverages while their clothes were drying. The two guys drank coffee, the mature woman tea, and the youngish woman hot cider. The conversation was light and breezy, and all four of my guests complimented me on the luxuriousness of my abode.

After about forty minutes all guests' clothes were dry, they put them back on and returned my sweats, and got into my SUV for me to take them home.

Just before we got into the SUV I noticed for the first time – I've never been accused of being observant – that the youngish female – she said that her name was Brittany – was as hot as a firecracker. Her clothes were too slutty for my tastes, and not suitable for the temperature drop that had occurred, but there was no doubt that she had spectacular gams, a shapely ass, and ample cleavage. He face looked like she was about my age – thirty three – although I found out later that she was only twenty seven – apparently she had had a stressful life.

Brittany rode shotgun and asked to be dropped off last. After I dropped off the other three she fished into her purse and exclaimed "Oh shit – I forgot my cellphone at your house. I'm so sorry – can you take me back, and then I'll get a cab."

Since I didn't mind ogling her shapely body and nice face a while longer I readily agreed. It seemed that Brittany was flirting with me on the way back, although I wasn't observant enough to be sure; I did notice the absence of wedding or engagement rings.

When we did return to my house, she found her phone under the kitchen table – it seemed to me that she knew right where it was. As she placed it into her purse with a big smile on her face she said "You really are a nice guy, Kent. I'd like to do something nice for you in return for your kindness."

With that she started removing her clothes. I was in shock. I hadn't been laid in three months, hadn't even had a date in a month, and as Brittany peeled her clothes off it was clear that she had a consummate naked body.

It was impossible to resist her – not that I ever seriously considered that as an option. She was like a bitch in heat as we staggered into the living room, interlocked as we pressed our bodies and lips together. After she exposed and rubbed my cock and I started eating her delicious pussy – which she obviously had washed thoroughly when she had showered, now about an hour ago – she somehow produced a condom, rolled in onto my iron-stiff cock, and proceeded to fuck my brains out.

No, I didn't fuck her; she got on top and she fucked me with an intensity and vigor an order of magnitude greater than any other I had ever experienced. I just about burst the rubber I came so hard, and no one could fake the orgasm that she had; she spasmed so violently that at first I thought that she was having a coronary.

After our virtually simultaneous climaxes, I stayed inside Brittany for as long as I ever had in any woman in my life, and our bodies remained in contact, glistening with sweat and groaning in pleasure. The only thing lacking was conversation. Every time that I started to say something Brittany would plant a passionate kiss on my lips.

Eventually – it turned out to be about fifty minutes after Brittany put her phone into her purse – she got off of me. I was still in nirvana as I saw her saunter into the kitchen and get dressed. Still naked, except for my socks, which neither Brittany or I had never removed, I offered to drive her home.

"I don't want you to know where I live, or anything about me, Kent. I'm going to take a cab. However, since I'm short of cash could you loan me $20 for the fare. I have every intention of fucking you again – in fact let's make arrangements for that right now," she snickered.

I just gave her $20 – not a loan – and she called a cab. While we waited for the cab she got face-to-face with me and gently played with my testicles. "I have a proposition. We just enjoy each other for sex. We don't involve each other in the other's life, or find out anything about each other. We fuck our brains out once or twice a week. How does that sound stud?"

Since she was the best fuck that I had ever had – by a light year – there was no chance that I was going to object. We concluded that she would visit me Tuesday at noon. She planted a final liplock on me as the cab honked, squeezed my scrotum, and said "can't wait," as she hustled out the door wearing an old raincoat of mine over her slutty outfit.

After Brittany left I sat stunned in my kitchen, still bare-assed, for at least an hour wondering what the fuck had just happened. There had to be some catch – something wrong with this picture – but what certainly wasn't clear. I kept wondering whether she was a gift horse, or a Trojan horse. I finally convinced myself that unlike my three previous women I was in relationships with Brittany found me being a nice guy "sexy" rather than "boring." After this revelation I snapped out of it, dressed, made dinner, called a buddy, and went to a movie.

I didn't tell my buddy what had happened when he asked "Why the sly smile plastered on your face, Kent? Having a continuing fantasy?"

I wanted to say "A reality better than any fantasy," but I was afraid that I'd jinx the situation, so I kept quiet.

That night – for the first time in my life – I woke up startled from a dream about fucking Brittany and saw that I had spontaneously ejaculated onto my sheets – and that I was still rock hard.


I wasn't entirely sure that Brittany would actually show up on Tuesday at noon; but at 12:03 – not that I was anxiously keeping track – she did. She had a big smile as she handed me my raincoat and conspicuously removed her panties as she said "Thanks so much, Kent. Now how about we use your bed this time – in fact I'd really like for you to carry me there."

She jumped into my arms, laid kisses on my neck and cheek as I carried her, and moaned when one of my fingers grazed her exposed pussy.

We weren't in my bedroom for more than a minute before we were completely naked and I was slurping her cooch while she was sucking my cock in a sixty nine with me on top. I was afraid that I would blow early when she started spasming from an oral orgasm while still sucking my cock, but in mid-orgasm, with surprising strength since I likely outweighed her by sixty pounds, she flipped me over, magically produced a condom, rolled it on my cock, impaled herself, and then rode me like I was a bronco.

I fondled her massive mammaries as she worked on my cock, squeezing it with her pc muscles as she bounced up and down. The condom delayed my ejaculation just long enough for her to have another orgasm before I filled it like a balloon.

I was wiped out and could do little more than stroke the sides of her tits as she lay on me moaning and groaning once she came down from her orgasm. We both had significant aftershocks which caused us to giggle.

I started trying to talk to Brittany, but when I did she put a finger over my lips and chuckled "It was fucking amazing – nothing more need be said. However, I need to complete my mission."

With that she pulled her pussy off my dick, removed the condom and went into the bathroom to flush it down the toilet, and then returned. She played with my balls and sucked my cock – while I massaged her nipples – until she got me rock hard again, and then slurped and sucked until I shot a load down her throat.

Once I recovered from that amazing blow job she giggled "Let's have a shower together," as she grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bathroom. In the shower there was little conversation as I cleaned her cooch and she soaped my cock and balls. I got hard again and would have loved the first shower fuck of my life but she said "Down boy – next time. I have to leave."

Within three minutes flat after the shower she was dressed and ready to walk out the door. "How about Friday at noon?" she smiled as she put her arms around my neck.

"Sure, Brittany – but I was wondering; if you're on birth control can we get STD tests so that we can do it without a condom?"

"Sure – but I don't have money for testing," she replied.

"How about we meet at 11 a. m. Friday at this place," I responded as I took a piece of paper off of the kitchen table on which I had written the name of the closest testing lab, "and I'll pay for the tests and to have them expedited," I continued.

"OK," she chirped, "I'd like to feel your jism in my pussy. See you Friday at eleven.

After another passionate kiss she was gone.

Friday we did get tested at the clinic, she authorized the lab to send both of our expedited results to me by email. We had a quick condom fuck at my house, and then she was gone again – after making arrangements to see me Tuesday at noon.

I got the "all clear" expedited STD results for both of us on Monday, and Tuesday we fucked bareback twice in little more than an hour, once with her bent over a padded chair in my living room because we couldn't take the time to go to my bedroom we were both so hot, and again with her doing her cowgirl imitation – only this time reverse cowgirl – after we dragged our asses to my bed.

After the next few times I finally figured out – when she arrived one day very cold when the temperature was in the high 30s – that she was taking the bus to and from my house. I immediately got a Lyft account in my name, gave her the relevant information, and after that she took Lyft to and from my house. Since she refused to use her phone to call me if there was a problem since then I might be able to identify her I bought her a burner phone with prepaid minutes so that if a schedule change was necessary we could contact one another.


Surprisingly, as time went on the sex with Brittany got even more rewarding – how that was possible I didn't know, but it did. I also did get my first (actually first and second) shower fuck when she was in the middle of her period one day, and it was as delightful as I had imagined that it would be. Also, we both really came to like titty fucking – she has the perfect size and firmness for a perfect titty fuck, and actually got an orgasm from titty-fucking, though not as intense as her usual vaginal one.

As time progressed Brittany considered nothing was off the table as far as sexual experimentation was concerned. I fucked her when she was blindfolded with her hands tied to the headboard, with and without a dildo in her anus, doing the Wheelbarrow, tied spread eagle to the bed posts, in a completely dark closet, on my second floor outdoor balcony – you name it, we did it as far as one-on-one sex was concerned.

I never had any desire to bring another party into our activities, and Brittany never expressed any interest either.


After nine months of fucking Brittany – usually twice a week and most often two orgasms for me each time and four or more for her – I started to re-evaluate my situation. For the last several months I had been keeping track of the actual time we spent together; it averaged out to be ninety three minutes a session, a little over three hours for a normal week.

Attending a friend's wedding caused me to think about our situation even more, with the idea of coming to some sort of epiphany. While I was physically more sexually satisfied by a factor of ten compared to any other time in my life, and probably more satisfied than any normal man had a right to be, the wedding I attended started me thinking; do I want something more than fantastic sex with a mystery woman – do I want true intimacy and love?

Thinking about my situation on the drive home the day after the wedding I realized that while I couldn't say that I loved Brittany, I certainly had feelings for her. That was, of course, normal, because two people couldn't do all the things that we had done over the last nine months without at least having some feelings for each other. I knew absolutely nothing about Brittany's education, goals, non-sexual likes and dislikes including food and drink, politics, job (if she had one), home, other relationships, or life in general – she had been very careful to keep it that way, revealing hardly anything except what positions she'd like to fuck or suck in.

Further, Brittany never expressed any interest in me personally. She never asked me questions about anything. She knew what my full name was, and where I lived – of course, since all of our fuck sessions were in my house – and that I was financially comfortable; however, she didn't even know what my job was, who my family members were, or if I had other significant relationships sexual or otherwise; in other words like me about her, she knew nothing of my life.

I vowed to find out some things about her at our next liaison, Wednesday at noon. That didn't turn out well.

When Brittany was left off by her Lyft driver a few minutes before noon she was hot-to-trot. However, after an initial kiss before I let her pull down my pants I said "Brittany, there is something that we have to discuss – sit down," as I ushered her to a couch in my living room.

"I don't want to talk – I want to fuck," she pleaded."

"Just three minutes, then we can do whatever you want, you're in charge," I forcefully said, gently but persuasively holding her down on the couch. When she started to protest I interrupted.

"Brittany, I've developed feelings for you. I don't know if it really is love, but I'd like to actually date you in addition to fucking you. As you know my sexual satisfaction is as high as it possibly could be, but I want to get to know Brittany the person too – and who knows, we may want a long term relationship," I blurted out.

She started to cry.

"What...what's wrong?" I asked.

"Don't ruin everything; I look forward to seeing you twice a week to get away from my otherwise shitty life. It's my refuge, but it can't be anything more. Please don't ruin the only good thing in my life..." was as far as she got before she dissolved into tears.

I held her close and stroked her head and shoulders for at least ten minutes before she completely stopped sobbing. Then I held her at arms' length, looked into her eyes, and said "OK – I respect what you want. However, we're going to do something different today, even though you don't have to talk to me and tell me about your life. I'm going to give you a massage."

"I...I...I've never...ever...had a massage," she stuttered after breaking eye contact.

I carried her to my bed, gently disrobed her while deflecting her half-hearted attempts to get to my cock, laid her face down on my mattress, warmed up massage oil from my nightstand in my hands, and then started to work on her.

At first she was tense – then she started to relax. When she relaxed she started moaning and groaning, and it was clear that she was enjoying it. While I had often noticed small bruises on her body before, for the first time I noticed significant bruising, on her back and the back of her thighs – that disturbed me. Once I was sure that her relaxation was complete I started softly talking to her while I continued to work on every part of her body, taking care to be gentle around the bruises.

"As you have already realized, Brittany, I'm financially secure. I really need someone to share my life with, not just fuck. You are the best sex partner a man could possibly want, but you might also be my life mate. It can't possibly hurt anything to get to know one another. If there is something you need protection from, I'll provide it," I cajoled. I slowly repeated these same thoughts at least a half dozen times while I continued to work on her.

After what was a good half hour I turned her over on her back. She obviously had dried tears. She grabbed my arms and coughed out "Thank you for the massage – it was wonderful. Please, please, can we fuck? I need you so badly."

She moved as quickly as a cat for my crotch, had my cock exposed in record time, and once her lips touched it I knew that we would be fucking – I couldn't resist. However, shortly after I was ensconced in her heavenly channel with her heels on my shoulders (my shirt still on), something came over me. I didn't fuck her – I made love to her. Despite her machinations I gained control and I gently, sweetly, and purposefully reciprocated inside her as I kissed one nipple and gently twisted the other. When we came substantially simultaneously it was not with the ferocious intensity of our normal copulation. It was more subtle, more long-lasting, less physical, but with an emotional component for our first time together.

Once we separated, Brittany buried her head in my chest and for the first time we actually cuddled for more than a few minutes. By the time that she was dressed and ready to walk out the door that day she had been there for well over two hours – much longer than normal, and we had had only one copulation.

As she waited for the Lyft driver to arrive she held my hands and looked into my soul and much as my eyes.

"Kent – you are nicer to me than anyone else has been my entire life. You are my respite in the sea of chaos that is my life. I need you – but as much as I want you, I will have to abandon you if you try and establish a long term relationship with me. I'm not only not worthy, but it will work out disastrously for both of us. Please, please, let us endure as we have; a precipitous change will be catastrophic. How about we meet again next Monday at 1 p.m.?"

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byamischiefmaker© 19 comments/ 33577 views/ 26 favorites

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