Uncharted Territory Pt. 02

Debi moaned and whimpered and writhed. But she was so "fired" up from their office activity and the anticipation of the evening to unfold that she was crying out in delight as her first orgasm overtook her. He kept his mouth pressed to her petals until he was certain she was finished, but she had to push him away because it left her too sensitive.

"Oh, my God, that was magnificent!" she bellowed. "I don't know if I'll last the evening."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know how much more of that delightful torture I'll be able to withstand."

"Oh, do you want to quit now, save yourself the misery?" he asked, jovially.

"Not on your bloody life."

"I didn't think so. But I am surprised. I thought you were maybe a girl who really, you know, could go the distance." Ron sat up, moving back over against the sofa to have a sip of wine.

"I can," Debi acknowledged. "But if you're implying that I sleep around, you're absolutely wrong."

"No, no, I didn't mean to imply that," Ron said quickly, hoping he hadn't offended her.

"I do love a good fuck, but finding a good guy to do it is rather difficult. I know I am attractive and I work hard to maintain my appearance. I don't mean that to sound conceited. It's just that I get hit on by a lot of blokes who want nothing but to get their rocks off. I want a bit more, so I am selective."

"And by more you mean?"

"Like what you just did," Debi noted, rolling onto her stomach and stretching her shapely frame, feet facing the fire. "I like to give and receive. Some blokes aren't so considerate. Is that what you thought I meant?"

"I wasn't sure," Ron answered honestly. "Some girls want a relationship."

"And most blokes don't." She looked square in the eye. "What about you?"

Ron shrugged. "Well, my divorce isn't even final yet, so I'm not necessarily looking to get into another relationship. But that's not to say that if the right girl comes along I would avoid letting it happen. I'm just taking things as they come."

"I quite agree. I'm not looking for one either, but if one happens, I won't complain." Debi studied him for a moment before asking, "Could I be your right girl?"

"Why? Do you want to be?" Ron threw back, stalling to formulate an answer.

"Well, I'm not asking so we can begin a relationship, mind you. I was just wondering if I was your type."

"Honestly, Debi, I'm not sure we know each other well enough. But so far, you've done nothing that's been a turn-off." That was honest. "I hope I haven't done anything to turn you off."

"Well, you've still got your clothes on," she said in a tantalizing tone. "I'm afraid if I don't see that magnificent monster soon I shall be left to simply enjoy the fire, which I must say is simply divine. Do come join me."

So as not to seem too eager, Ron removed his clothing casually. He was about to lay beside her, but decided to stoke the fire first. Turning from the new blaze, he took in the sight of her below him: her long frame stretched out on the comforter, her head resting in her folded arms, her very round ass standing like two gently rolling hills on the English countryside, legs spread enough to catch the glow and droplets of moisture escaping from her pussy, glistening from the firelight. He had a better idea.

He eased down on top of her sliding his cock between her legs, his legs on the outside of hers forcing her to close hers, sandwiching his rod between them. His upper abdomen rested on her ass cheeks, and leaning on his elbows, he shoveled his hands under her chest cupping a soft, creamy tit in each hand. Finally, he placed kisses all over her upper back and neck.

With a shiver, Debi commented, "That's the spirit. Bloody hell, that's a good position." And with that, she eased her hips up enough to tunnel her hand underneath to grab his cock and aim it at her ever soaking pussy. Naturally, it found its mark and slid right in.

They began a gentle rocking motion at a steady pace. Debi was right. This was a hell of a good position. The sensitive underside of his cock rubbed the upper part of her vagina heightening his pleasure. With his hands still cupping her tits, he grabbed each nipple with thumb and forefinger and lightly twisted them back and forth.

That elicited a sound, something between a moan and a sigh, that she kept up.

Ron then tried lifting up a bit directing his angle of penetration downward to rub against the upper wall of her vagina in an effort to hit the g-spot he'd read so much about. After a dozen or so strokes, she started to breath heavier and push down.

"My God," she stammered between breaths, "I feel like I'm going to piss on myself." Soon after, she started gushing fluid and came in a torrent, her body spasming beneath him. When her massive orgasm subsided, she could hardly speak. "I'm sorry," she gasped. "I can't believe I wet your comforter.

Ron smiled. "That wasn't urine. You just squirted."

Debi tried to lift herself onto her elbows, but she didn't have the strength. "I feel like wet spaghetti. What do you mean, I squirted. I've never done that."

"I was able to stimulate your g-spot," Ron casually explained.

"My g-spot?" she repeated, mystified. "You actually knew where it was?"

"About. I got lucky."

"The hell you say. I'm the one who got lucky!"

Ron eased his still hard cock out of her and rolled over beside her on his back. She tried to pull herself over to him, but it took all of her energy. She pressed her lips to his, but it was a weak kiss.

"God, I'm drained. That was the most incredible orgasm I've ever had. You make love like you invented it."

Ron chuckled as her arm went down to his crotch.

"Poor baby, you didn't come. Let me get my wind back and we'll see to it."

They relaxed for a few minutes with her resting half her chest on his, absent-mindedly playing with his nipple. "I have to say I was surprised when Chelsea mentioned that you were going through a divorce. There's been nothing in the office gossip."

"I haven't said much to anyone," Ron admitted.

"Well, if you don't mind my asking, is it because it's a bad one?"

"No, I really don't know why I haven't said more. I've seen in other divorce situations that people either think you're a shit for divorcing your wife or they feel sorry for you. I guess I just didn't want to go through either of those."

"No offense to your ex, but she must have been daft for letting you go. I mean, God, she's missing all this."

"No offense taken, and if by all this you mean the sex, she's not missing a thing."

"Well, then, lucky me."

"Don't just be polite. Tell me what you really think." Ron said it somewhat jokingly, but she took him seriously.

"I really think this has been the absolute best sex I've ever had. A girl could really get used to this." With her head resting on his chest, Debi turned it toward his wilting cock. She reached down and gently stroked, not in any effort to make him come, just to get him hard again. Accomplishing that in short order, she noted, "And you've got the best cock. There's nothing I wouldn't let you do with it."

"I'd be careful making a statement like that. You never know what kind of pervert I could turn out to be."

Debi giggled. "Oh, you are naughty, aren't you?" She shivered and glanced at the fireplace. "Be a dear and get the fire going again."

While Ron complied, throwing another log on the grate, Debi scooted around, laying on her right side, resting her head in her hand. The entire front of her body now faced the again brightly burning wood. He returned to her, laying behind her in the same position, spooning her. He extended his right arm under her neck and she moved her arm resting her head on his arm. His cock found a resting place in the crack of her ass.

"Mmmm. That feels nice." She pushed back against him as though she could get closer.

"Lady, if you get any closer you'll be behind be," Ron quipped, imitating Groucho Marx and one of his lines.

Debi couldn't help but giggle. "You really know how to charm a girl." She dug her left arm between them and repositioned his rod between her legs. It was straight enough and almost long enough to stick out the front of her. His hips couldn't help but thrust a bit and he could feel her moist vaginal lips riding his shaft.

That was all it took to get her aroused again and she lifted her left leg to feed his cock into her hungry pussy. But he had to scoot down some to get the right angle. In this position, he couldn't continue to spoon her, as his body was actually at a 45 degree angle to hers. She was ready, as evidenced by how easily he slid into her wet vagina, and he started pumping away. However, he couldn't get good traction so he maneuvered his trunk further toward 90 degrees and wove his legs in between hers.

"Oh, yeah, baby," Debi groaned.

Yet Ron was still not satisfied with the penetration, so he wiggled to 180 degrees, stretching his legs out so his feet were even with her head and her feet with his head. He then reached for her hands holding one in each of his, using them to push and pull. Her pussy sucked him all in the way to his pubic hair, their pubic bones touching, and he could feel the tip of his penis tapping her cervix.

"God, I've never had anyone up so far!" Debi cried. "This is incredible. It feels fantastic!" She rubbed her face against the bottom of his foot. He did the same.

Even Ron had to admit, having never used this position, that it was the most astounding sexual experience he had ever had. He slowed his jabbing to a very slow pace to enjoy the sensation of her vaginal wall rubbing every part of his cock. On every upward thrust she let out a soft "mmmmm." It almost felt as though they could stay in this posture indefinitely, but her breathing was quickening and his balls were tightening and . . .

"Oh, my God, I'm cumming again," she whimpered.

"So, am I. Do you want me to pull out?"

"Not on your life," she gasped. "I'm . . . I'm . . . it'll be . . . it'll be . . . okaaaaaaaaaay . . . She exploded with a concoction of indistinguishable sounds, letting go of his hands and hugging his leg, rubbing her face all over his foot. Her body tensed into one big knot and the resulting constraining of her pussy on his cock caused him to blow his most powerful load yet. He couldn't help emitting noises of the kind she was making. Both of their orgasms lasted much longer than either had previously undergone.

After several minutes of recuperation—even his cock remained hard afterward longer than usual—and their breathing returned closer to normal, Debi slid off of him and wormed around to drape half her body over his and kiss him passionately, but tenderly. If he hadn't been so physically spent, it might have aroused him—actually, it did; he just couldn't get the old pecker up. All he could really do was bask in the post-coital bliss with his eyes closed.

* * *

Ron opened his eyes a while later and was shocked by the intense light that caused him to squint. His first thought was the fireplace, and a quick glance told him the fire had burned out. Then his attention was captured by his patio door, in which bright sunlight filtered in. His next focus was on the clock on the mantle where all became startlingly clear. It was six a.m. His internal alarm had awakened him. They had fallen asleep.

Turning to his right, Debi was sprawled beside him, still out cold. Raising himself onto his elbow, Ron took a moment to study her. She was as beautiful as Jenna and Chelsea, and he would have been hard-pressed to pick one over the other. She was a bit taller than the others with bigger breasts, but there was nothing about any of them with which he could find fault.

Zeroing in on her left nipple, his mouth was magnetically drawn to it. He ran his tongue around the areola before sucking softly on the nipple. His intention was to gently awaken her, but he almost got lost in the enjoyment of what he was doing. When she finally stirred, it brought him back to reality and he removed his mouth from her breast to kiss her.

"Don't stop," she whispered, through a sleepy haze.

"Want some coffee?"

Coffee?" she frowned. "Why in the bloody hell would I want coffee?"

"Oh, I forgot, you Brits prefer tea."

"What in God's name are you talking about?" Debi was thoroughly confused.

Ron extended his arm toward the patio. "Good morning."

"What?" She squinted, then suddenly realized. "Oh, dear; oh, dear. We fell asleep." She started giggling. "I must have been totally dazzled last night. I've never fallen asleep and let a man stay over."

"Uh, you're in my apartment."

That caused her to laugh even more. "Now, I've positively never done that." Debi's laughter subsided as she stared deeply into his eyes. "I had a marvelous time."

"So did I."

"Did we say something last night about not really wanting relationships? I think I might like to reconsider."

"My new philosophy is to take things as they come; not rush anything."

"Does that mean we can get together again?"

"It does."

"Great. Than what say we grab a quick shower—strictly to wash, mind you, hard as that might be—and I'll wait while you get ready so you can run me 'round to my place so I can do the same."

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

Spectacular sex aside, it sure as hell was nice waking up with someone next to him, Ron thought as went about his daily duties. Difficult as it had been, he and Debi had managed to shower—not quite as strictly as she had suggested—with only touching (washing each other) and kissing. And believe it or not, they managed to arrive at work on time. That was one thing he missed about marriage: having someone next to you all night and in the morning.

He hadn't seen or talked to her all day, but he could only imagine what she and Chelsea had talked about. In fact, he was almost afraid to show his face in the executive suite.

Apart from all of that, his ego was fortified with the knowledge that he had satisfied yet another woman. The sexual ills of his marriage were beginning to fade from his memory.

Ron considered calling Debi to see if she wanted to get together again tonight, but as the afternoon wore on, he realized he'd had two active late nights in a row the last two days and that maybe he should go home and regroup. By quitting time, he was actually tired and decided that a quiet evening alone and to bed early was what he really needed, so he snuck out of the building's rear entrance.

He hadn't filled up his SUV since before the meeting last weekend, and with all the additional driving around this week, he needed to top off his tank. The part of town he now lived in was still new to him and he was still learning his way around, so he frequently used different gas stations just to better familiarize himself with the area. Unfortunately, it had started to rain, but he decided he still needed to stop.

With thoughts of pussy dancing in his head from all the wonderful sex he'd had lately, he was sort of daydreaming as he pumped his gas. The steady pitter-patter of rain on the metal roof of the station further lulled him to lose himself in his preoccupation. But that pleasantness was suddenly and harshly broken by the screeching sound of a woman screaming. The reason was clearly evident.

It appeared as though the fuel line nozzle was stuck in the locked position that it can be set to so a person can simply stand there and let the car be filled until the auto shut-off clicks. Apparently, her's had not done that. Gas was overflowing the filler neck of her vehicle so she had yanked the hose—not the nozzle—from her car and was now having to fight a writhing serpent that was spewing fuel all over the place and drenching her in particular, further preventing her from being able to grab the nozzle.

Thinking quickly, Ron ran to the side of the building and hit the emergency shut-off switch. It solved the problem, but it also discontinued the flow for everyone else. Unconcerned about that, he went to the woman to assist her with the now tame snake, taking it from her and replacing it. She had readily relinquished it, preferring to concentrate on her gas soaked clothes, which, Ron noticed as he turned back to her, had rendered her white blouse fairly transparent. Her big, round tits could be seen bulging out of her bra, which might have been a size small. He saw that she was not trim, but neither was she fat; buxom was probably more accurate. Her light blue pants were as wet as the rest of her and seemed snug against her shapely legs, but it could have just been the result of being sloshed.

Finally realizing that there was nothing she could do about her situation, she looked up. "Thank you for your help. I don't know what—" Her face showed her surprise. "Ron?"

He just as quickly made the connection. "Mary?"

"Oh, my. I don't believe it. How long has it been?"

Ron knew exactly how long it had been. Mary was the girl he had dated before meeting Dana, the only other woman—prior to Jenna—with whom he'd had sex. Her figure hadn't changed in all those years, and despite how he had earlier categorized her, she was still a very attractive woman, even with her wet blonde hair clinging to her head like a skull cap. "It's been a while. What are you doing in this neck of the woods?" If she still resided in the same place, her home was way on the outskirts of the other side of town, a good hour or more drive.

"Business. Calling on clients. Thank God I don't have any other appointments today. Except that I have a long drive home smelling like gasoline, not to mention what it will do to my car."

Without really thinking about it, Ron offered, "My apartment is only a couple of minutes away. You're welcome to come by and clean up." He stepped over to his vehicle, opened the hatch and pulled out an old blanket that he kept for contingencies. "You can sit on this. It might prevent some of the gas from seeping into your seats."

"What about Dana?" Mary asked with some concern.

The two women had a brief history. When Ron and Mary had stopped dating, they remained friends even after he started seeing Dana. They had some joint friends and often saw each other at parties. They had continued to flirt, causing Dana to quickly take a disliking to Mary. It ended with Dana and Mary having words, which was also the last time Ron saw his ex-girlfriend.

"We're in the process of divorce."

Showing no surprise and perhaps a hint of satisfaction, Mary accepted his offer.

* * *

Another positive result of his divorce was that Ron had become a very neat and tidy person. He despised clutter, deplored mess and was disgusted by dirt. He always picked up after himself, and so, he did not freak out when he had guests unexpectedly. That was why he had readily agreed to Debi's visit last night and why he had no hesitancy in allowing Mary over. He had even done a quick straightening up this morning while Debi was still getting ready. While Mary went into the bathroom, he even made it more spic-and-span. As a last minute thought, he started a fire. She had been drenched by both cold rain and gasoline, so he thought she might appreciate the warmth.

Before she got into the shower, he had her hand her clothes out to wash while offering her a terrycloth robe. Washing clothes was another household chore at which he had become quite adept.

When she stepped out nearly an hour later, all made up, her hair dry (he'd heard the blow dryer being used), the sight of her flooded him with memories of their time together. She hadn't changed and was still a very beautiful woman. She was the first woman he had known who was sexually adept and not afraid to display (some would have said flaunt) her femininity. She had been his first, but he had not been hers, yet she had been just so damn sexy, he hadn't cared. He'd thought about her often after Dana came along, even after he was married. There had even been times when he had imagined it was her he had been fucking instead of his wife.