Surprise Sex

I was 40 years old, married with two kids and making lots of money. Was I happy? No.

My marriage had become almost void of sex. No matter how much money I made it was never good enough for my wife of almost 15 years. Denise was a very insecure person and always had the need to show off, from throwing expensive parties for the neighbors to demanding a new car every two years.

Work was a relief from all this. I had recently been named Executive Vice President for a Wall Street firm, taking over the position from a woman named Angela, who hired me and taught me everything I know about running a financial services firm.

With this promotion, I inherited Helen, who was Executive Assistant for Angela and now worked for me. She became my confidant, my eyes and ears and a shoulder to cry on.

Helen was 26, born in Athens, Greece and came to America with her family when she was two. She was a curvy woman, 5 feet, 4 inches tall, with black, wavy hair and a very large chest. Angela taught her how to be a top notch assistant, and how to dress. Like Angela, Helen always wore business suits, and her nails and hair were kept In perfect condition.

Her family owned a 24 hour Greek diner in Queens, the kind that serves breakfast all day and sells take out coffee in those blue paper cups that have drawings of Greek gods on them. Her entire family worked there, and Helen spent most summers and any free time she had in the family business.

Sometimes, I would stop by on my way to the airport, or just when I wanted a great meal. When Helen's farther, Nikos, found out who I was, he said I would never have to pay because I helped his daughter. He considered me to be part of the family, but I turned down numerous invitations to their home because I thought he was trying to play matchmaker to me and Helen, who I assumed told her parents about my problems at home.

I did attend the weddings of this three sons, Nick, Frank, and George, and they were loud, fun affairs, right out of the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding.

Helen was definitely a professional, but outside the office, she had a wild side. She was not shy about her Queens accent even though she worked next to many Ivy League graduates. I understood her, being from Queens myself. However, my mother was an English teacher in the New York City public school system for over 30 years. She put me through speech classes and diction lessons in order to make me loose some of that accent.

Helen had no such training. She pronounced R's as A's and A's as R's. For example when she said never it came out as neva. The area in Queens called Jamaica was Ja-make-er. And of course forget about it was one long word: fugeta-bout-it.

In exchange for her understanding ear. I was treated to stories about her weekend exploits at the local watering holes. Friday nights were spent partying with her fellow assistants and back office workers, while Saturday she stayed in Queens and hung out with her neighborhood friends. Sometimes, I had to hear about her encounters with her lover of the week.

"He was a great fuck, but a real asshole," is how she usually summarized these experiences.

Our relationship was completely professional, although as I drifted further and further from my wife, I would wonder what a life with Helen would be like. I think sometimes Helen felt the same way. After meetings or a conversation ended, she would linger in my office, hoping to spend more time with me but then quickly realizing there was work to do.

She got married at 19 and divorced by 23. She told me her husband was so addicted to porn that he even had to watch it when they had sex. He wanted to imitate everything he saw on the TV. If Helen didn't play the part well enough there would be hell to pay. She had made mistakes in her life, but now was on the right track, thanks to the mentoring she received from Angela, then myself.

My wife would harass me with phone calls numerous times a day, even though I told her only call me in the most extreme emergency. She could not make a decision on her own. If the plumber came and there was more work then we originally thought, she had to call me with unnecessary questions. When I refused to answer my cell phone, Helen would run interference for me when my wife would call me in the office.

I found myself working longer hours just to avoid the horrors of going home. Although I loved my 10 and 8 year old daughters, Gina and Christina, some nights I could not handle being under the same roof as Denise. Her negative attitude was destroying me.

So this is the routine I fell into:

After working way past 5 pm, my sanctuary would be an athletic club located not far from my office which was a popular destination for Wall St. professionals.

Open 24 hours, It had a fully equipped gym, an Olympic sized swimming pool, catering facilities, and even hotel rooms. These rooms were for those who wanted to throw a party with an open bar and not have to worry about their guests driving home. The club hotel also came in handy for bad weather days and for the times we were being audited by the Government and working 14 hour days.

All of the executives plus some of the staff had memberships. Helen had a membership since she started working for Angela and that continued under me.

The best feature about the club was that after 9 pm when the trainers and other staff left it became a ghost town. The only employee on site was at the front desk that checked in guests and kept an eye on things. After 9 if you wanted to use the facilities you had to ring a doorbell and be buzzed in.

After a particularly tough week both at home and at work, I decided I would spend Friday evening having dinner with some old college friends, then head to the club to swim and work out, and catch a late train home to Westchester County and arrive after midnight.

I told my wife I was going to entertain potential clients at a Yankee game. She would leave me alone when this happened because new clients meant more money. I told Helen my lie, then the truth that I would be watching the game but with some friends. After dinner, I would head to the club for a work out and a swim. I shared this information with Helen because if Denise called asking questions she would corroborate my story.

Our dinner was fun, we had lots of laughs and the Yankees won. By 9:30 our gathering had ended, and I headed on foot for the 15 minute walk to the club. IT had been a very hot day, and the evening was still humid. When I reached the club I decided to head straight to the pool.

I quickly changed, threw a towel on a lounge chair and jumped into the cool water. It was quiet, nobody there, I had peace for the first time all week.

Soon, though I had company. I heard the door open and someone was heading toward the locker room. After about ten minutes, none other than Helen comes walking toward the pool, in a bikini that barely covered her 36DD boobs. Before now, the most I had seen of her body was when she wore shorts at our company softball game. Seeing her in a bathing suit was sweet. But this may be trouble, I said to myself. As she got closer, I could see a big smile on her face.

It shocked me that she was here on a Friday night. Why had she left her friends back at the bar? She knew I would be here. It would be rude, however, if I left right away. I knew why she came here, and I needed an excuse to leave. But I did not have one.

I will stay another 15 minutes, I though, then make up some story that I had to go. But she knew I had no place to go because this pool had become my hide out. I wanted to leave, but I really wanted to stay.

Helen jumped in, swam a few laps, then headed toward me. Now soaking wet, her large tits looked even better. She got closer to me. I could smell booze on her breath. She was not drunk, just a bit buzzed.

I backed away from her, she followed me until I was against the side of the pool.

"Did the Yankees win tonight," she asked me, in a very flirty tone probably knowing the answer because sometimes I would be a little upset the next day if they lost.

We played this cat and mouse game for about five more minutes. She would approach me and I would drift away. But she would not give up.

She continued to close the distance until she was near enough to bump into me , and feel the hard on that had emerged in my speedo bathing suit. We were now at the point of no return. She knew I was turned on, and I had a decision to make. A life changing decision.

"Lets go do this," I said.

"Where?" Helen asked. Good question. Getting a room at the club was an option, because John at the front desk always minded his own business, and I would slip him a $100 bill to buy his confidence. But that would take time, to dry off, get dressed, etc. I knew if I had the chance to think, I would change my mind. I decided to throw common sense to the wind.

"On the lounge chair, where I put my towel," I said, pointing right at the chair. "We will be okay, nobody comes there this late," I assured Helen, although I figured she would not mind getting caught. She probably had plenty experience at public sex.

With the decision made, we both waded over to the pool stairs. I got out first, and walked toward the lounge chair, looking straight ahead, ten percent of me hoping Helen would just head back to the locker room, 90 percent hoping she would not.

I turned my back to the chair and Helen was approaching slowly. Before laying down, I stripped off my speedo and tossed it aside. They I lay on my back, my hard on fully extended and pointing at the ceiling. My heart was pounding. Helen walked to my side, and casually removed her bikini top. Her breasts burst free. My first impulse was to grab them, but I held back. I wanted to show restraint and let her make the first move.

She took off her bottom, and this is when I saw how freaky Helen really was. Her vagina was completely bare, waxed bare. Where hair previously grew, she had a tattoo. Without my glasses I could not quite see the tattoo clearly. As she moved closer, I saw it was some kind of pattern with serpent like creatures wrapped around each other. My thoughts were this is a warning, enter here at your own risk, but now I had committed to fucking her. There was no turning back.

"Like it," she asked, then turned around, "how about this?" There was another tattoo that covered most of her pleasingly plump butt. It was a blue star with five points. She then spread her cheeks and her asshole had a yellow circle around it in the middle of the star that looked like a bulls eye. It was a stunning revelation how this woman could appear very conservative in our work environment, but while naked a completely different persona was on display.

"Is that a target I should try to hit," I wisecracked.

"Perhaps," Helen laughed. I asked her what possessed her to get these tattoos, and she replied it was her former husband's idea. He saw a scene in a porno movie where a woman had similar tattoos, and he asked her to get both of them. She admitted she wore a regular bikini bottom in case I did not respond to her advances. She wanted to keep her sexy tats a secret. Hellen said when she wore a thong at the beach it turned lots of heads.

Enough talking, she said. She got on her knees, grabbed my cock and began sucking on the head. It had been a while since my wife gave be a blow job, but I could tell in 30 seconds that Helen was much better (and more experienced) then my wife. She had this ability to put her tongue almost in a point and guide it into my pee hole. She teased me this way for a few minutes, sucked on my balls a bit, then plunged my entire cock down her throat.

Ah, deep throat, something I had not had happen to me in forever. I better distract myself, I thought, otherwise she will make me cum very fast. She was on all fours, and I was able to reach Helen's ass. First I grabbed her cheeks and worked my fingers over her asshole and down into her pussy. Then I grabbed her inner thigh and made a pulling motion, and she took the signal that I wanted to do 69.

Not missing a beat, with my cock still in her mouth, Helen worked her way onto the lounge chair and right over me. Slowly, she lowered her pussy until it was just inches from my face. First I put my tongue into her asshole, using the tattoo as a guide for me to rim her hole before inserting my tongue as far in as I could. She began to moan, quietly at first, then louder when I changed directions and focused on her pussy.

My tongue went into overdrive. Her skin smelled like the chlorine water we had been in moments ago. There was no turning back now, my life has changed forever. Shut up, I thought to myself, and enjoy this.

My rapid tongue movement continued, making clockwise circles around her pussy and driving her crazy. I was swallowing her juice and enjoying every minute. Neither of us was slowing down, but now it was time for the grand finale.

Helen stood up, turned around to face me, put my cock in a vise grip in her hands and guided it into her decorated pussy. We both let out a moan, releasing years of tension. This was destined to happen.

In seconds, my cock was balls deep in her pussy. Helen first was still, then closed her eyes and started gently rocking while squeezing her tits and pinching her nipples. While rocking her tits began to sway back and fourth. I put my hands on those giant breasts that I often wondered how they looked because they were always hidden under her silk blouses.

Her nipples looked like the eraser tips on the yellow number two pencils in Catholic school. I was far from those days now. I grabbed her breasts, and pinched those nipples. She yelled harder, so I tightened my grip. Her moans became louder and began to echo in the large room that contained the swimming pool.

Now she increased her pace and soon the lounge chair was swaying and I was sure it would tip over. Faster and faster she went, and now her breasts were bouncing like basketballs. Then she moved down to my face and we exchanged a long and deep kiss. She broke the kiss to say that she tasted pussy juice on my mouth. Then she maneuvered so I could suck on her massive tits while we fucked. She shouted, "bite my nipples hard."

I pushed my face into her breast and tried to take as much as I could into my mouth, I then clamped down on her nipple so hard that I didn't know how she could stand it, but she demanded I bite harder. We were both on the verge of climax. The bright lights in the pool appeared blurry, then Helen shouted in glory and I too let out a primal scream as I felt ribbons of cum shooting from my cock into Helen's pussy.

She fell into my arms. My semi erect cock was still lodged in her cunt and I enjoyed having her laying on top of me with her tits pressed against my hairy chest. The room was silent, enough to hear the buzzing of the mercury vapor lights above, and a hum coming from the pool's filter room.

I could have stayed in this position forever. I cant recall experiencing a similar safe and cozy feeling. Then thoughts started to race through my head. I was not going home tonight, I would get us a room. Better yet, I would book a room for a month, which should give me enough time to find an apartment. On second thought, perhaps it would be better to get a suite for when my girls came to visit. It was unlikely that I would spend another night in my house.

Hold on with the plans, I suddenly reasoned to myself. I don't know if that is what Helen wants, or was tonight just a one time thing.

Helen then awakened from a brief nap and we began to chat quietly. "We finally did what we both wanted," she said softly.

"Yes, we did honey" I replied. "Now we have to start planning for our future." She nodded her head affirmatively.