Not Good Enough

"Well, actually, it is, yes."

"Way to go, man! I think you've outdone yourself this time!"

"No, no, it's nothing like that!" I lied. Rosen and I had often swapped tales of students we had enjoyed over the years. There had been many.

"Yeah, sure. Tell you what, though. If she swings that way, call me over and we'll have a nice three-way!"

"Sure, you bet, Barry, you old pervert!" I said with a comic scowl. And I hurried away to my office to do busy work until Carol arrived.

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Rosen

I knew better. I had seen Fellows at work often enough to recognize when he was hustling one of his young female students.

And this was a really nice one. A young thirty-something mother, probably a public-school English teacher getting credits toward an advanced degree while she was fulfilling her teaching accreditation requirements. A smart one. And cute, pretty, even! Nice body, too, from what I could see.

I had seen them often enough after Tuesday and Thursday classes with their heads together at the coffee lounge in the student center. Then, last night at the campus theater, there they were together, dressed up and holding hands like kids on a date.

Sure, "it's nothing like that." I can imagine what kind of errand she's coming to your office on a Saturday afternoon for.

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Carol

I'm so glad there's so few people here in Carl's faculty office building. I'm so mortified.

I should have changed clothes, I should have made a shopping list. But I was in a hurry to get this done and to put the whole thing behind me. I told John I had some errands to run, and if I could, I would do the grocery shopping, too, while I was out. Vague enough that, if I come home with groceries, he may not ask what I was doing the rest of the time! Oh, how could I have been so stupid last night?

So here I am running across campus miles from home and miles from the store, wearing ratty old jeans, tennies, a t-shirt (with no bra!), and my husband's old fatigue jacket. I feel like such a fool.

I see a few students and some older man who might be a professor, but mostly the halls of the office building are empty, lit only by the cold blue winter daylight coming in through the high windows over the hallways. The professor or whatever he is looks at me oddly, seemingly scanning me head-to-toe. Do I know him? Should I recognize him? He meets my eyes, and seems to expect some sort of acknowledgement, so I nod slightly, and he smiles before he turns and jogs up the stairs at the end of the hall just beyond Carl's office.

Carl's door is open, and the smell of freshly-brewed coffee is wafting out into the chilly hallway, invitingly. I knock on the open door.

Across the room, Carl is in his socks, standing on a sofa to reach some of the high bookshleves which line the room, where he is putting away some books. He looks back over his shoulder. "Oh, hi Carol! C'mon in! Give me a second, I'm just cleaning things up a bit, here."

"Not just for me, I hope!" Oh, God, could I have said anything more stupid? Embarrassed, I giggle to cover my faux pas, then realize I've only made things worse! "It's really cold today!" I say as I walk in toward his desk in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

Carl climbs off the sofa, and walks across the room to the door, pushing it closed. "Sorry, I had the door open to air the place out; the offices in this old building get all overheated in the winter when they're closed up over the weekend. Would you like some coffee?"

"Oh, yes, I really would!" As much as I would like to get my wallet and run, I am really chilled through, and the offer of hot coffee sounds fantastic.

"Sit down for a second, and I'll get you a cup," Carl says, gesturing to the sofa while he finds cups and pours from the steaming electric pot.

"I see what you mean, though," I say as I sit down, "it's nice and cozy in here!"

"Too warm? I could open the door again!" he says, feigning a move toward the door.

"No, no! It's just right for warming up with a nice hot cup of coffee." I want to just get my wallet and run, but I find myself unzipping my jacket ... John's jacket ... to be more comfortable, as if I plan to stay.

Carl sits down beside me. Too close beside me, actually. He places his hand on knee of my blue jeans. "Actually I'm glad you dropped your wallet in my car, Carol, because I think we should talk about last night a little bit, don't you?"

"What do you mean?" Nervous, I must look like a rat in a trap.

Carl twists in his seat to face me, and takes my chin in his other hand. "I enjoyed being with you last night, Carol. I really enjoyed it, and I think maybe you did, too. Didn't you?"

He is staring directly into my eyes, and I find I cannot lie to him as I've been lying to myself.

"Yes, I enjoyed it, too, Carl. But ..."

"But?" Carl said, then he pulls my face towards his and kisses me, softly.

I enjoy the kiss ... it was just warm, moist lips, soft and soothing, not threatening at all. I enjoy the attention, the idea that he is interested in me, that he wants to pay attention to me. But then, I snap out of it. "Carl, I don't think what happened last night can happen again! That was a big mistake! I just need to get my wallet and go!"

"Oh, Carol! That's not good enough! You know you're not being honest with yourself. Last night wasn't a mistake! And your coming here today isn't a mistake, either." He leans forward and kisses me again, this time with tongue. I wilt, my own tongue engaging his, sliding around inside his mouth, licking his tongue and his teeth as my breath simply pauses altogether.

"Relax, Carol. Let's get more comfortable and talk for a bit. We should talk, don't you think?" Carl says as he pulls my fatigue jacket off my shoulders and down my arms. I help shrug it off and he throws it to the floor. I look down and we both see my nipples standing out tight against my t-shirt. I don't really resist when Carl's hand goes to my left breast, gently massaging my nipple through the thin t-shirt fabric.

"Oh, Carl, we really can't do this," I whisper. "I'm a married woman!"

"What's that got to do with it? I know you're married; I'm married, too. That's part of the fun of it, isn't it? You know it is! Play with fire a little! Be a little naughty, a little bad!" he whispers, his mouth close to my ear as his hand slides under my thin cotton shirt, and caresses my breast. He cups my breast then grips my nipple between his thumb and his two first fingers while he oh, so gently slides his tongue into my ear and teases me, overloading my senses. I feel myself becoming warm and moist in between my legs, and I wiggle in my seat a little.

"Lean back, Carol, relax," Carl whispers as he gently urges me to lean back against the soft leather cushions of the couch. He reaches down with both hands and lifts the hem of my shirt upward, revealing my bosom to his view. Both nipples stand out almost painfully full. Without coaching, I lift my arms above my head, and he slides the shirt up and off me altogether.

Carl leans forward and slides his bearded chin against my breasts one after the other, back and forth as I caress his hair and pull him firmly to me. He nods forward a bit and extends his tongue, and now he is licking, then sucking my nipples.

I don't say anything, but look into Carl's eyes as he massages my breasts tenderly, moving from one to the other gently, slightly pinching the nipples. I slide closer to him on the leather sofa so that I can move my hand along the growing hardness in his lap. There will be no further pretense that I am just there to pick up my wallet.

Carl disengages from me, and stands up alongside the couch. He starts to undress himself, taking off his sweater and shirt, loosening his belt. "Get undressed, Carol. We know what we want. Don't try to pretend any more. Take your clothes off, and let's really enjoy ourselves right here and now."

Silently, I follow his lead as if by not talking about it, it's not my responsibility. We take turns discarding articles of clothing, watching each other's body come into view one area at a time. His sweater and shirt, my shoes and socks, his slacks, my slacks, his socks, my unsexy cotton panties, his boxer underwear.

And here we stand, gazing at each other totally naked in his now-too-warm office with the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of someone walking by out in the hallway. My crotch is damp with excitement, and his penis stands out in front of him, comical yet sexy and threatening, too. He isn't staring lovingly into my eyes; he's scanning up and down my body, drinking in my sexy nakedness, leering at the flesh of the younger married woman he is about to fuck. Likewise, I admire his cock, thinking it is maybe a little longer than John's, maybe also a bit thicker, wondering if it will seem different from my husband's, if he will be able to push me into an orgasm with it, or even maybe several orgasms? Even while I think this, he reaches out to touch my vaginal lips and I shudder with a little orgasm right away.

I grasp his hard cock and pull us together, the length of my naked torso pulling tight against his, my head leaning into the crook of his neck, my breasts pressing against the lower part of his ribcage, his penis sliding up against my tummy near my navel, my legs opening a little to straddle his leg so that my opening slides down along his thigh when I relax from tip-toe down onto to my feet. He pushes his fingers along my moist slit, up and back, up and back, as I slowly slide my grasping fist along his shaft in rhythm.

I started to slide down to my knees.

"No, no, Carol," Carl says, pulling me back up with his hands under my arms. "Later for all of that. No playing right now. I can feel you don't need it, and I certainly don't!" I feel him twitch his cock again my tummy. "Lie down on the sofa here; we're going to do what we know we want to do. No pressures, no pretending it's love, no 'forgetting' you're married. Let's just fuck hard, and fuck good. We know it's wrong and it's sinful, but it's great and it feels good, and we want to."

"I, Carl I didn't bring any 'protection!'"

"Good! All the better. Maybe I'll make you pregnant! Let me fuck you right now, quick!"

Carl gently pushes me back down onto the sofa, and I sit down with a plop, then I lay myself back onto the soft leather cushions and willingly spread my legs apart. Carl kneels between my legs, and braces himself with one hand on my left breast, squeezing my painfully-erect nipple, while his other hand slides into my slit, a finger slipping up and down along the length then plunging right in to my sopping-wet opening. I gasp. He strokes his finger in me a few times, gathering my moisture, then removes his finger. His reaches over to move my hand with is, and I feel my own wetness there. Then he moves my hand to his erect cock dangling down between us, and forces me to grasp it and move it towards my sex.

"Don't pretend, Carol. Be right here, right now, with me. Feel me. Don't think too much. In the moment! We're fucking .. WE are ... not you and your husband. He's at home working on the house maybe or taking a nap. This isn't a story or a movie! It's really you and it's really me. WE're right here, naked, on my sofa, and we're going to fuck now! Pull me into you!"

And I do. I move his penis toward my slippery cunt until I felt him sense the opening, then I move my hand away and lift my hips up a little as he leans down into me, lowering his entire weight onto my torso, rubbing his chest against me to feel my tits smash flat and distort against his bare skin as his cock slowly, gently slides up into me.

It's the best, most sexual feeling I've ever had. I'm married, but I'm lying here getting fucked by another man than my husband, just for the sinful fun of it, and it's wickedly delightful. I feel every inch of his lumpy penis as it slides into me, and I lift up one leg and bend it around his thigh to pull him deeper, to encourage him, to let him know that I am totally his right now, his to fuck and enjoy, to do with as he pleases!

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Carl

She is totally ready. Her cunt is liquid with excitement and very hot against my rigid cock.

I push my hips toward her, hard, and I feel my crotch hair meet hers. I twitch my cock inside her, and she purrs with pleasure. In this position, I look up at her face, and I see her flared nostrils, and as she breathes heavily, her tits, flattened out onto her chest, rise up under me. I have one hand on a breast, and squeeze it, pinching the nipple hard, purposely digging in a little with my fingernail. She yelps, but thrusts up against my prick hard with the jolt of pain and pleasure.

I start rocking my hips gently, pulling my cock out of her tunnel just a little bit, then pushing it back in snug and warm. I keep this up for a while as I also manipulate her breasts, moving my hand from one to the other. My weight is on my left leg on the floor and on my right leg folded beside her on the couch, so I have both hands free. I use the other hand to caress her face and brush her hair away from her eyes. I lift up, bracing my hands on my hips with my penis deeply embedded in her vagina, and I say quietly, "Look down, Carol. Look where we are joined. Look! My cock is completely buried in your cunt! Watch!" She is staring down along her body to where our hips touch, and I slowly withdraw my cock, so she can see it emerging from within her, long and stiff, shiny and slimy with her juices.

"Oh, my God, Carl! We're really doing it!" Carol sighs, and looks up at me. I smile, then slam my cock back into her, hard, then I bend down, and nip at her erect nipple lightly with my teeth. Now, I am fucking into her fast and hard, and every time I thrust, she slides along the leather seat cushions a little bit until finally, her head is jammed into the corner where the couch arm and back come together. Now, I have the leverage I need to really push hard into her, and she begins to whimper, then moan, then cry out softly, "Oh my God! Fuck me!" That is so Carol ... even in the throes of sexual passion, she is worried about someone out in the hall hearing her. Her breathing is so labored that she has her mouth wide open, and I can't resist licking around and into it.

I can feel her start to tense up, and I know her climax is coming. My own is not far away, but I think I can keep it waiting until she has had a good orgasm on my cock. I move my knee on the couch and my foot on the floor for a better purchase, and begin anew to thrust in and out as rapidly as I can, and always with force on the in-stroke. She cries out again, but wordlessly, and I feel her vaginal walls clamp around my cock as she begins her orgasm. I press harder, and tug to force a withdrawal, and I look down and see that her inner pussy lips are pulling out with my cock, distending as I pull back, then tucking in as I thrust forward once more. Then again, and again, and then I, too have reached my climax as I feel the incredible joy and power as jets of semen shoot forcefully out of my cock and into the only space where they can go as I hold my cock tight in her cunt -- right into her unprotected uterus. Her cunt spasms again around my cock as I shoot even more cum up into her. She is licking her lips and rubbing her breasts, with her thumbnails digging into her nipples as her orgasm radiates out through her whole body. I, too tense and feel another jolt of pleasure in the entire area around my hips, up my back and stomach, in my thighs, and down my arms even out to my fingertips.. I moan, "Fuck!"

I feel the semen spurts still occurring, but tapering off, and as I relax, I also feel my cock shrink a little. Carol's eyes are open, and looking right into mine. "I love that," she says. "Let's do that lots more!"

John

It's taking Carol much too long to just pick up her wallet. I had seen her desperately searching for it earlier, but she didn't mention it to me, didn't ask me to help her find it. She seemed distracted and distant, then when I was getting back from the hardware store this morning, I heard then end of a telephone call. Carol said, "As soon as John gets back from the store, I'll hop in the car and come to your place and pick it up." Then, after a pause, "Okay, I guess. John's out with the car right now ... how long will you be there?" Another pause, then "Fine, and thanks so much! If I can't get there before five, I'll call your office number?" When she hung up the phone, I made a noise with the door so she would know I was in the house.

Nothing obvious to raise suspicions; she was talking to someone about recovering her lost wallet, clearly. But odd that she wouldn't mention it to me. I knew it was probably her professor, and I guessed that she was feeling guilty about whatever it was that went on Friday night and that ended with them kissing in his car.

Then, when she left earlier to meet with him to get her wallet, she said nothing about the wallet, or about going to her professor's office to pick it up. She just said she "had errands," and might do the grocery shopping. But she hadn't made a list, didn't look in the fridge, or ask me what we might need next week, so I doubt she was at the grocery store all this time.

I hope they're having a good time. I know her professor is ... Carol's a beautiful girl, and an enthusiastic sex partner. I think a lot of the "magic" just has gone out of our marriage, smothered in the day-to-day details of laundry, our kid's school and dance lessons, work, being sick, and yes, even grocery shopping every week. We just seem to have lost the ability to see each other as a sexy man and woman. And, for my own part, I know I just can't get her excited any more; she doesn't resist me when I want to make love, and she tries to show excitement about it, but I can see that it's not spontaneous. If it were entirely up to her, our sex life would be over.

Not that I doubt that she loves me. I'm sure our little family of three is the very most important thing in her life, and I'm a big part of that. I know she cares deeply about me by the loving and generous things she always does for me. And I love her, and show it, and say it often.

It's not love that's missing, it's sex. Part of the thrill of sex is that it's a little (or a lot!) naughty, a secret pleasure sharing your most intimate self with another. But we have reached such a level of familiarity that we're almost one person. We see each other nude several times a day. She paints wart treatment on the bottoms of my feet, I paint her toenails. She does my dirty laundry, I clean up after she get sick on her period. You just can't do all that for years and still have that thrill of newness and excitement that was there when you first exposed your sex to one another, when you first touched the other in their most secret place. It's just in the nature of marriage that the deep and prolonged intimacy of living together somehow destroys that thrill of naughtiness, danger, and abandon a couple feels when they first start having sex together.

I understand that. And I know that Carol is a young, beautiful woman, and men being what they are, I'm sure she gets offers from time to time. Why now, why this guy, I don't know ... it's not for me to ever know, I guess.

But I hope it's good for her. I hope she is having that exquisite sinful joy we used to have together, that I can't give her any more. She deserves it. Time's passing ... she'd better grab it now, I suppose.

I'll be okay. I'll fend for myself, somehow.

Carl

I love that first time; there's nothing better than to look down at a new lover, at a beautiful woman's body, especially if it is the body of another man's wife, spread before me, impaled on my hard prick as I spurt my semen into her cunt.