Oh My! Ch. 01

Eric, hands out, palms up, imploring, took a further step forward as he pled his case, "I just couldn't help myself. You are so beautiful, Maris, and you were about to leave. Forever. It was wrong, I know, but I was so attracted to you, had totally fallen for you, helplessly, and I would never get to see you again. I just couldn't..."

"But it was such an awful thing to do to me, Eric..."

"But I kind of felt like you wanted me to, were leading me on, almost inviting me to look at you again..."

Oh my!

As if the switch on a spotlight had flipped, in the bright glare the truth was crystal clear. He was right. My plan absolutely had been to entice him, to get him to ogle me again so I could catch him doing it. I hadn't intended to actually come on to him, but how could he have known I wasn't? He just reacted exactly as I had intended. While he hadn't orchestrated the first time he saw me naked, I definitely arranged the second. As I pondered what to do, now that my plan had foundered on unseen rocks and sunk, Eric picked up my dress, walked to me and held it out.

"Thanks," I muttered as I took it, keeping my other arm locked across my chest and my eyes lowered. Then I thought, "What the hell, he's already seen everything anyway," and I quickly slipped the dress over my head. At first its hem hung up on my hard nipples, and I caught my breath and shivered as the silky fabric caressed them and my butt as it slid down. I felt tingly as I glanced up at Eric. He was watching me. And seemed closer.

As time slowed and my awareness heightened, I suddenly realized that I could smell myself, my sex. God! How could I be so turned on? After all this? Then the pungent, erotic scent of aroused male tickled my nose, addled my brain, and weakened my knees. Suddenly I was closer, too. At that instant the realization flooded into me that I wanted Eric to kiss me. Really wanted him to kiss me.

Oh my!

That wasn't in my plan. Though kissing had not been any part of my scheme, not at all, I felt my foot slide forward reflexively to keep from teetering over as some strong, mysterious, magnetic force drew me ahead. The scent of him, sweet sweat mixed with faint, masculine cologne, both totally overpowered by the piquant pheromone of arousal, made my head dizzy, my legs rubber, and I swayed. Towards Eric.

Oh my!

When our lips met, of their own accord my arms encircled him and my body molded itself to his. Though it felt wonderful, exhilarating beyond belief, so delectably forbidden yet somehow innocent in its spontaneity, alarm bells sounded in my brain. I knew that this was wrong and that I should stop it. Must stop it. I also knew that I would stop it. In just another minute.

Or two.

But the kiss intensified, and when our tongues began getting acquainted I realized that the same brazen harlot, the one who previously had saucily displayed her breasts, was back in control, and rubbing her belly against Eric's erection.

Blame it on vacation, the sun, on Ted for ignoring me, on Venus for being in the 8th astrological house, on the fact that I was kissing the most strikingly attractive man I'd ever met, on the memory of his erection lurching higher when he saw me naked, or on the intense sexual arousal that had kindled, built up and coursed through me as I purposely displayed myself to Eric. Whatever the cause, the result was clear.

I was in heat.

A part of me, not the sensible Maris who was going to stop this foolishness, any second now, but the wild, daring Maris that I almost never, ever let loose, the one that chose to go commando, absolutely craved having a huge hard cock inside her. The exact same cock that was now twitching every time she rubbed against it.

The intense war between the evil and good angels sitting on my shoulders was brief, truncated by my body's decisive drubbing of my mind's attempts to drag me back to sanity. Images of Ted, our wedding, Susie and Ben, their births, our home, our friends, nothing could extinguish the fire raging inside me. Consumed by desire, an aching, gnawing need such as I had never experienced, I broke off the kiss, pushed him away, and stepped back, panting. Eric's face was equal parts crestfallen and mystified, until I quickly tore my dress up and over my head.

We were back in each other's arms before it hit the floor, and, as the kiss reignited, the brazen hussy in control of me ineptly, but furiously, fumbled with the waist of his trunks, pulling the front away from his body and working them down. As my right hand found his big, now bare, throbbing erection and began sliding the skin along its rock-hard core, my left hand took his right and pulled it down. Between my thighs. Into my vulva. Eric's strong fingers plunged into my sopping pussy and began fucking me, sliding from deep in my vagina to the top of my groove, brushing my clit, before again penetrating me. In and out, up and down, over and over.

It was incredible and my arousal soared. Nearing the point of no return, trembling at the onset of the French petit mort, that daring part of me that had taken charge suddenly needed his big, thick cock inside me. I raised my right leg and draped it around his hip as my hands guided his pole to my hole.

Eric proved to be psychic. Had he not known to wrap his arms tightly around me as he eased that monster into me, I'm certain I would have collapsed from the overwhelming sensation of being split apart, plowed, spread wider and filled fuller than I'd ever been.

Once his penis sounded the ultimate depth of my canal, when we were completely joined, Eric just docked it there, soaking in my juices, savoring my heat and silky tightness. Captured in his arms and impaled on his cock, I whimpered each time his erection twitched or my muscles rippled on it, striving to adjust, to expand to accommodate its girth. The twitching, rippling, and whimpering went on and on. I still have no idea who it was that finally took control of my mouth, but whoever it was, when she could stand it no longer, I clearly heard my desperate plea, "Oh God, Eric, fuck me."

He did.

It had seemed dangerously large, thick and heavy in my hand, but having that huge, hard, cock screw me was beyond anything I could have imagined. All consuming. When it first began to slowly withdraw, because my vagina was so stretched, locked around it so tightly, it seemed to drag my sheath and clinging labia away from me, out of me, as it left. When just the bulbous head remained inside, I caught my breath in anticipation, then gasped and shivered when Eric eased it back home. It plowed me apart and forced my viscera aside, readjusting my innards to accommodate it as it sank in to the hilt. Only to withdraw again, tugging my sleeve out with it. Then to cleave me once more. Again and again, each time a little faster, just a bit harder.

It quickly became too much. Totally obliterated by the staggering sensations from the magnificent battering ram fucking me like I'd never been fucked, my mind could perceive only snatches of what else occurred. The fingers of one strong hand, embedded in my ass, driving me to meet each thrust, then pulling me back as he withdrew his tool. His other hand finding my mouth and covering it. The fevered cries I'd been hearing, I'd been making each time he drove into me, being stifled, becoming moans. The burning flame swirling out from my vagina kindling ever hotter, consuming me, raging over and over, each flare cresting higher than the one before. My head lolling, rolling to the rhythm of his thrusts, as each shock wave of pleasure rent me apart.

Still Eric kept fucking me.

Finally his sweet, impassioned gasps penetrated my ecstatic haze, each one corresponding to the swelling and spurting of his glorious penis, as glob after glob of hot cum jetted out, ricocheting off my cervix, ballooning my cavity, captured inside by the huge rod plugging me completely. The overwhelming feeling of fulfillment, of being truly joined in searing passion, mingled with the fire of my biggest explosion yet, and my consciousness faded as I orgasmed endlessly, more completely and totally than ever.

The loud knock on the office door and the shout stopped everything. "Eric, we're almost to port! We need you out here! What's going on?"

Wrenched from the throes of passion untold, everything seemed a blur. Our panicked eyes soulfully locking. Eric's loud, unintentionally ironic shout, "Coming!" as he pulled out of me, his last ropes of semen spewing onto my belly and thighs. His hands quickly stuffing his huge, still dripping tool into his trunks. My trembling fingers fumbling as they desperately pulled my dress over my head. His scrambling to the door, only to race back to me.

His kiss was sweet, but his message sweeter. "Wait here, Maris, darling. When you hear the whistle, everyone's attention will be drawn to it, and you can slip out unseen." His gallantry, protecting me despite his own peril, turned my legs to rubber, my heart to mush, and I melted into him as we kissed farewell.

He left.

My knees were still jelly as I quickly did my best to clean myself up, fix my hair, stow the borrowed clothes, and to mask with fresh perfume the sensuous scent of sex suffusing my skin. To again became the demure soccer mom who had boarded the ship just hours before.

The whistle announcing our arrival at port was long and loud, and no one saw me leave the storage room and casually rejoin the kids waiting to disembark. I smiled at my two sailors as we got in line. Eric was stationed at the gangplank, bidding goodbye to the mates, and I watched him in amazement as we drew closer. Could all that possibly have happened? I bit my lip lightly and my face got hot when his eyes caught mine and held them. I thought, and SO hoped, that I saw the same yearning in his eyes that was brimming over in mine.

Ah well. I shook his hand and thanked him for the cruise as my progeny bounded ahead onto dry land.

As I strolled away from my maritime adventure, the spasm in my vagina -- it was still contracting, trying to resize after being so profoundly stretched -- ejected another dollop of Eric's semen, and I felt it slowly oozing down my inner thighs as I walked with my children to join my husband.

I would have preferred to shower before lunch. Strongly. But that was impossible because Ted had arranged a one o'clock tee time, so the best I could do after entering the restaurant and telling Ted to order my usual, was to scurry off to the ladies room. In the stall still more of Eric's precious cum -- he had ejaculated so wonderfully, so many times and SO massively -- dripped out of me, and I shivered at the remembered feeling of his penis pulsating inside me.

Watching the long, viscous drools of thick white fluid stretch down and plop into the bowl, I felt sudden regret. Not that it had happened, not at all. But that the knock on the door had made Eric pull out, cheating me out of feeling his last ejaculations. Coitus interruptus.

Unfinished business?

I caught a drop on my finger. I liked the taste: strong, salty. Eric. With a trace of Maris mingled in. Nice.

When the flood of cum finally ebbed, I used TP to wipe up. On a whim I hid some of the tissues in a secret corner of my purse. A small souvenir.

I knew I'd have to deal with the guilt. Someday. I had never before been unfaithful. While I was certain Ted had had several affairs, I had let them slide. For the sake of the kids. However, I took what I had done seriously. Ted and I had been high school sweethearts, and were married between our first and second years at the university when I'd accidentally become pregnant with Ben. I'd never had sex with anyone else and assumed that Ted was typical, that having sex with him was just like having sex with anyone else would be.

Now I knew better. Though my behavior had been admittedly wrong, adulterous, I reasoned that it was certainly understandable. Ted had become increasingly distant, had taken me for granted for years, and had been unfaithful. Often. Our sex life had waned after Susie's birth and now was almost nonexistent. He was getting it elsewhere.

Also, I certainly hadn't planned on anything more than giving Eric another quick look at my tits and humiliating him as payback for what I mistakenly had believed was his betrayal. But then the clip had given way, the trunks had fallen, I had improvised a truly brazen flash, and everything had just gone crazy and spun out of control. Despite it being a serious transgression, sex with Eric also had been a healing balm on the open sore inflicted by Ted's indifference. It was the most wonderful affirmation of my womanliness, of being desirable and sexy, imaginable.

But still, at the core of it, I had let myself be fucked by a man who was not my husband. I'd led that man on, maybe seduced him. Sitting on the toilet, feeling the other man's cum still coating my cunt, knowing his sperm were swimming in my vagina, into my cervix where my babies had grown, the guilt began to seep in to me, tightening my shoulders, darkening my world.

When my phone buzzed and I read the text, I decided to defer dealing with my guilt. After I shook Eric's hand when we parted, he had palmed and pocketed my business card with my phone number on it. He had mouthed something, perhaps "later?" as I left, and it had given me hope. For what? Who knows? Perhaps truly finishing what we'd started, having time to bask in the afterglow of intimacy after meaningful sex?

His text, "Maris, you are the most beautiful, exciting woman I've ever met. Please, when can I see you again?" warmed my heart, engorged my breasts and tingled my clit.

And set my mind to work. We had five more days in Mobile, and I planned on them, and me, being filled to the max. It was vacation, and I, too, deserved to have fun. I texted back, asking Eric when he was free. Tonight, tomorrow, anytime. Whenever he was available, I knew I'd find a way.

After we left Mobile, when real life resumed, what then? Oh. My.

***

Author's notes: I would like to acknowledge and thank two authors of erotica from another era who influenced this story. "Oh my!" is a quotation from Coastal Watch by Holly Rennick. In her story, the heroine -- she's just grasped a man's penis, not her husband's (it's WWII and he's stationed far away), and is about to put it in her -- captures the essence of the action, excitement and emotions of an entire scene with just those two words. Rennick is a master of understatement.

The scenario at the beginning of my story was inspired by Dryad's A Pirate's Party, a clever and well-written addition to the countless tales of women being observed while dressing or bathing. While mine is a love story, with very different plot specifics, character motivations, overall length, and especially the ending, I was intrigued and inspired by the voyeuristic situation she presented. Anyone competent with google can find Rennick's and Dryad's stories.

Stay tuned for Maris' further adventures in Chapter 2.