Tubbing

"I hope you don't think I'm a slut or something." Christina spoke to the passenger window to avoid making eye contact with me as I drove a little too fast down the freeway. We had chatted online for two months, exchanged barely more than a dozen emails, talked on the phone three times, and this was only the second time we'd met face to face.

"No, of course not," I replied. More words buzzed around in my head.

Our first rendezvous was over coffee at Starbucks. Christina was short and pleasantly plump, sporting brown Latina eyes and bottle-blonde hair and subdued makeup. This time, three weeks later, I had picked her up at the same Starbucks, and we were driving to a spa that she'd told me offered small, private rooms, each with a hot tub, a shower, and a small foam rubber mattress on a wooden shelf. It was her suggestion to go there. It was unspoken, though it was clear she wanted to fuck.

If Christina was a slut, then so was I. She wanted to fuck. I wanted to fuck her.

"This will be fun," I offered. She didn't come right out and tell me that she'd been there before, though it seemed obvious. She didn't tell me with whom. Or with how many. Christina had told me she was married and bored and looking for some adventure in her life. In her late thirties, a decade younger than me, she looked older and more tired than her years. She had four kids with her first husband, all in their twenties. She'd started early. Then came a few unhappy, apathetic years with husband #2. My guess was that she'd had a lot of adventure in her younger years. Probably more than I'd had.

We'd already had the obligatory "Condoms?" conversation – over the phone a week earlier. Birth control was a non-issue. Her tubes were tied after her last child, and I'd had a vasectomy. I had assured her I was safe and healthy. "I am, too," she'd replied, "but you can use one if you want to. It's your choice." I was trusting, maybe even reckless. I loved feeling my cock buried inside bare pussy. I didn't bring any condoms.

"It's a good place," she reassured me about the spa. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her smile at me. Perhaps it wasn't with too many other men, I thought. She still seemed a bit nervous. Not that I wasn't a bit nervous, too. The adventure of fucking a married woman carried a certain level of risk from a potentially irate husband.

The spa met my expectations, and my expectations hadn't been very high. It sat in a strip mall, around the corner from a restaurant and dry cleaners. We waited in the lobby for a few minutes for a room to become available, sitting side by side in awkward silence on a bench seat. The smell of chlorine was in the air. The wallpaper on the walls and the carpet on the floors were frayed. So was the sullen female clerk behind the counter. Maybe I would be, too, if my job was akin to running the front desk at a seedy motel that charged by the hour.

A couple emerged from a hallway that presumably led to the rooms. They were two fortysomethings, he with a mustache and a slight paunch, she with big tits and wide hips, both with wet hair. He handed a room key to the clerk, and they headed out the front door, never once making eye contact with us or with each other. I didn't get the impression that they had been there to soak aching muscles.

The clerk spoke briefly on the telephone, and then she caught my eye, held up a key and wiggled it back and forth. "Room 15," she said when we approached, handing me the key and two towels and motioning her head toward the hallway to the back rooms. The clerk and I didn't make lingering eye contact, either. I guess it was that kind of place.

The hallway to the rooms was a maze. Left, right, right. We followed the signs to Room 15. When we finally stood in front of the door, Christina excused herself. "I need to find a bathroom," she said. Another sign showed the way. "I'll be right back." I opened the door to Room 15, our Gateway To Adventure, and stepped inside.

The room was bigger than I had imagined it would be, but I wouldn't have called it spacious. There was cheap wood wall paneling on the walls and large red Mexican pavers on the floor. A wooden hottub was in the back right corner. Directly in front of me was a door to a sauna, and a showerhead was on the back wall between the sauna and the tub - no shower curtain, just a tile floor with a drain and a liquid soap dispenser attached to the wall below the showerhead. To my right was a wooden platform barely more than half the width of a twin bed, sporting a three-inch thick mattress that was covered with a cheap white sheet, seemingly freshly laundered. It wasn't a five star spa, but it would serve our needs for the next two hours.

Christina found the room, and I locked the door behind her. "Well," she said, facing me in the center of the room, "Here we are." I kissed her. Her mouth was sweet and soft, with just the right amount of tongue. Her body folded against mine, and I had a flash of awareness that before too long this voluptuous woman in my arms was going to be naked and horizontal, and my stiffening erection was going to be slip-sliding inside her. We broke for air, and Christina motioned her head toward the hottub. "Want to do the tub? Or?"

"Let's do the tub right now," I said. That seemed to be an easy way to get naked and intimate this first time, without having to make an immediate move to the mattress. I stepped back and began to unbutton my shirt. She matched me and unbuttoned her blouse. Her eyes met mine at first, then watched my hands as I exposed my chest. "I'm a little hairy," I said.

"Nice." Christina slipped off her blouse, exposing those big tits encased in a frilly white bra, then she reached back and unhooked it as I unbuckled my belt and slipped my pants and underwear down. Her breasts were lovely handfuls, dotted with freckles and tipped with dark brown turgid nipples. Christina glanced down at my stiffening erection and shimmied out of her jeans. I quickly folded my pants and shirt and started to put them on a shelf above the tub. "No," Christina said, motioning to a flat surface between the mattress and the tub. "Put them over there. Otherwise the shower gets them wet." I deferred to her greater experience.

Off came her panties. Then we were naked. That's always a heady rush with a new lover, that first exposure to a new body. Her body revealed no surprises. She was five-two, her tits firmer than I had expected, with a rounded tummy and fleshy hips and ass and thighs, and with a dark thatch of pubic hair. We embraced for another long kiss, my erection pressing against her belly. I thought about how her pussy was going to feel when it wrapped around my flesh.

The water was hot. The smell of chlorine wafted into my nostrils, though I wasn't going to complain about over-chlorination in this kind of place. I settled down into the water and onto a bench with the water at nipple level, and Christina sat next to me, our knees touching. It was an awkward position for kissing or touching. "C'mere," I said, maneuvering her to sit on my thighs, facing me. She nestled forward, her breasts pushed against my chest, wrapping her legs and arms around me, and we discovered that we fit together well – nose to nose, mouth to mouth. We took advantage of that and began to make out.

It was full-body contact. We adjusted ourselves to get my cock pressed against the length of her cleft, and she began to rock her hips ever so slightly as our mouths played together. My hips matched hers. My hands went from tits to ass to tits to face to ass. She moaned into my mouth and held me tighter. Was she wet enough to fuck? I angled my cock and tested. Yes sir'ee, she was just wet enough to nudge my cockhead inside. I rocked my hips to slide in and out, popping past a nicely snug muscle ring. Every time I slipped inside, her muscles nibbled at my cock. This was going to be good.

Time was a'wastin'. "Let's try the mattress," I suggested, and Christina disengaged and stepped out of the tub, with me close behind. We quickly swabbed off the bulk of the water with towels, then she laid down on the mattress and held out her arms to me. I didn't need to be asked twice. In an instant I was on top of her and she wrapped herself around me, kissing my lips, pulling me closer.

"Wait," I told her. I slid south, sliding my cock downward between those chubby pussylips with an "I'll be back!" promise as my lips kissed and licked and nibbled lower and lower. I nuzzled her neck, causing her to squirm and mutter something unintelligible, then wandered across her breasts, first one then the other. Her brown nipples were standing tall and suckable, but I didn't pause there long. I had places to go and things to do. I continued down to her bellybutton, then to her lower tummy, then followed a faint path of black hair to her pubic hair, matted from the water, and a first good look at her pussy.

And such a nice pussy it was. She had puffy outer labia, delightfully distinct and swollen inner labia, and a medium-sized clit that jumped right out and begged to be licked and sucked. Some women, especially plump women, have thin, almost hidden inner labia, but not Christina. She had a mildly musky scent and taste, unfortunately half masked by the chlorine, though it only took a few slathering licks to dispel the chlorine and get her juices flowing.

Christina was hot, slick, and softly vocal. She moaned, she panted, she murmured. She squirmed and thrust her hips at my mouth as she held the back of my head with her hands. Her aroused pussylips smiled open in a crimson welcome, her clit stood high and isolated, her guttural noises increasing in frequency and loudness as I ratcheted her upward. When my fingers found her gspot, her hips began undulating nonstop and her vaginal muscles clenched again and again. I took her over the top with a quickening tongue lashing and increased pressure on her gspot, and her hips raised up off that crappy mattress and her body shuddered, punctuated by gasping, exhaling grunts.

It was a good ten second orgasm. After her body began to relax, I gave her a few soft licks and then mounted her, missionary style, and was inside her with one easy thrust. Christina's eyes were wide open and wild, her face still flushed from her climax, and inside she was hot and buttery slick. I buried my cock and pressed harder to get even deeper. Her hips rose, her mouth opened into an 'O', and I strained forward, just barely brushing her cervix with my tip.

How many men had fucked her like this? When was the last time? Was it her husband? Or some other man? But I didn't really care, not right then. Right there, right then, she was all mine. She was lying beneath me, I was fucking her and she was letting me fuck her, and we were both in the moment. Her arms held me close, her legs tightened around my thighs, my body pressed against hers, and I had my cock inside another man's wife. Her cunny was turned-on juicy, and I was most definitely on that path toward unloading my balls inside her.

I began firm, rhythmic strokes, and I realized my journey on that path wasn't going to take long. Four kids, yes, but her vagina was snug. In, out, in, out. We rocked together. "Ahhhh," she exhaled on every creamy instroke, and there I'd pause for a fraction of second, buried deep and enjoying her clenching nibble, then withdraw until only my cockhead remained inside. She'd started off slick and kept getting slicker.

"Baby," I told her, "I can't hold back much longer." My tempo increased. I couldn't help myself. Faster, a little bit harder. The end was near. I raised my upper body with outstretched arms, solidly pumping my shaft into her, each thrust ending with a bump of my pubic bone against her inflamed vulva. Her hands gripped my upper arms. Her breasts wobbled in an erotic, enticing dance.

"Give it to me," she breathed, "Let me feel you come."

That did it. I gave up trying to fight it and just let it gallop forward. Each thrust was now faster, harder, deeper. Christina's hips angled up to take me in, rocking up to meet each of my stabbing plunges. That didn't help my self-control, either. My breaths came faster, too, and so did hers. "Ready?" I warned her. "Do you feel how hard you make me?"

"Yes," she panted. "Come for me, baby."

And then I felt my orgasm begin. "Now!" I told her, "Now!" The sensations expanded out of my loins and my cock stiffened and I drove one last deep thrust inside her, pressing with the strong legs and an instinctive desire to fill her juicy little honeypot with as much of my flesh as I could manage to stuff inside her and to load her to the brim with my juices. I gasped, she gasped. We froze in a tableau of intertwined lust and spasming pleasure, with my cock spurting its fiery white and her muscle ring responding to each quivering spurt with a friendly squeeze.

"Oh my God," I murmured when I could finally speak. My stiffened body relaxed, my spurts weakened into feeble twitches. Christina's squeezes slowed.

"Did that feel good?" she asked me.

"Wasn't it obvious?"

She smiled, sighed, and gave me one final squeeze that ejected my softened cock. "Oops!" she giggled. I raised my weight and sat upright. Looking down, her labia were red and raw and yawning wide, and the telltale white oozed from the opening. Christina reached a hand down, playing her fingers in the mutual sloppiness. At first it was a slow caress, then her fingers quickened. Her eyes closed, and her face took on a look of concentration.

I sat perched there, between her legs, my hands quiet on her hips, and watched her masturbate. Her fingers flurried across her lips with a sideways motion, focusing on her clit. It didn't take long, maybe thirty seconds, and she climaxed, which seemed to squeeze out even more juices. I joined her on the mattress, lying side by side, and we embraced and kissed and nuzzled.

Twenty minutes later, Christina's mouth had me hard again. "Do me doggie," she told me, and we shifted positions on the narrow mattress. She leaned forward, her forehead pressed into the sheet, her ass angled high, her vulva open and ready. I kneeled in behind her, found her opening, and then grabbed her hips and plunged in. She liked it, I liked it. What was not to like? I rode her like that with steady strokes, feeling her little squeezes, hearing the liquid sounds of my thrusts into her creaminess. My eyes were drawn to a few black hairs that ringed her anus.

I slowed, trying to avoid another quick climax, then pulled out completely. "Now you on top," I told her, and again we shifted positions, sliding against each other. Christina straddled me, reached between her legs to aim my erection, then impaled herself on my cock. We both moaned. Now my cock felt enveloped again, wrapped snugly by her sweet little snatch, and this time she rode me.

Our eyes were locked, my hands cupping her softball sized breasts with those big, brown hard nipples, and her hips did that undulating grind of clit against pubic bone. Christina found her rhythm, and this time I watched back arch and her face redden and scrunch into the frozen agony of pleasure. I soon followed. I held her tits and clenched my buttocks and raised my hips, and she just kept doing that grind until I exploded with throbbing pulses. Afterwards, she lay forward on top of me and we just kissed, once again sweet and soft.

The timing worked out. A minute later the phone on the wall rang with a ten minute warning from the front desk. We showered – yes, the spray went everywhere, though our clothes were spared for the most part – and toweled off and dressed in silence. We shared one last long, lingering kiss. "I had fun," she told me, and then whispered in my ear, "I can feel you leaking out of me." Back down on her heels, she smiled and turned to reach to the door handle.

On our way past the front desk, I handed back the room key, and Christina and I walked toward the front door. Two more couples sat in the waiting area, sitting side by side in silence, not touching, not looking at one another. It was a busy place.