Unintentional Homewrecker

After working under Mrs. Audrey Davis for nearly a year, she invited me to dinner at her home. The invitation came out of no where and was completely shocking. Mrs. Davis had always been a very demanding boss. She insisted upon work free of errors in a prompt manner. I'd failed several times to meet her standards on different projects and wound up being on the receiving end of her verbal, demeaning tirades. While she shouted in my face, I always broke down and cried. The woman scared me at times! So, this invitation to dinner was not an especially welcome surprise. I was actually terrified to spend any time with her after hours.

Mrs. Davis was a tall woman, made even more so by the stiletto heels she wore. She was truly beautiful with a narrow waist, long legs and a butt any swimsuit model would kill for. She had a larger-than-average bust and always left the perfect amount of her cavernous cleavage exposed. She had hard facial features which, while glamorous, made her look angry. Her hair was always perfectly styled without even a trace of gray to be found. She looked half her 48 years.

A few days before I was to join her for dinner, I cautiously approached her and asked what sort of attire I should wear. She grinned a smirky grin and told me it was casual and reiterated the fact that dinner would be served at 7:00pm sharp. Gaining no help from her, I was still at a loss on what I should wear.

When the evening of the dinner invitation arrived, I decided I would wear my nicest khaki's. I'd seen her check out my butt a few times when I wore those. So, I knew she approved of them. Fitting as snugly as they did, the last thing I wanted were visible lines from my underpants. Before stepping into my khaki's, I wiggled into a white, lace thong panty I'd bought specifically for this reason. I wore my favorite white, short sleeved shirt which was cut without tails. It let me wear it without tucking it in. And, when standing, it hung to the top of my khaki's. So, when I sat or stretched, a strip of my pale, hairless midriff would be exposed. That was another area of my body I'd caught Mrs. Davis staring at on several occasions.

Before I slipped into my Fiat 500, I saw my front tire was completely flat. I thought about trying to change it myself, but that thought passed quickly. I wasn't the sort of 23-year old boy who was good with tools. Knowing I could not be late for this dinner, I checked my phone and found several Lyft drivers within a few minutes of my apartment. After picking the closest car, I stood there and waited only a few minutes before a car pulled up for me. The driver and I smiled at each other. Or I should say, I smiled at him while he looked at me from head to toe. When his eyes met mine, I saw the look of lust I'd seen so often in men's eyes.

It was a 35-minute drive, most of which was spent in silence. Aside from being so nervous about the upcoming evening, I had never been fond of making small talk with dirty old men. They were shameless with what they said and it often wound up hurting my feelings.

When we finally arrived at Mrs. Davis's home, I thanked my driver and jumped out of his car. As soon as I'd shut the door, he drove off, leaving me standing before the Davis home. I stood on a circular drive. I immediately recognized Mrs. Davis's black Tesla. She gotten it only a few months before and loved it. Just in front of her car was a big black SUV, which I assumed was Mr. Davis's.

I timidly walked to the massive front doors and rang the bell. I could hear it chime from where I stood. Mrs. Davis opened those two, big doors and welcomed me into her home. She was wearing her signature black stilettos, skin-tight jeans, a sleeveless, pink, silk blouse which was deeply cut and emphasized her chest. Her make-up and hair were absolutely perfect, as usual. She greeted me with a warm smile and thanked me for coming. I was a little shocked that she was being so nice. At the office, she was always so gruff and confrontational. But she was being, normal. It was going to take a little getting used to.

From the entry way with its marble tiled floor and massive stairway curling around the room, she led me through a sitting room, I think. It had fancy couches, chairs, tables, vases and bookshelves. It looked like a room that was rarely used. When we arrived in the dining room, I was surprised how big the table was. It was decorated just as grandly as the rest of the house. The dominant piece of furniture being the table, it had seating for 20!

Mr. Davis walked through an archway and I lost my breath. He was gorgeous! He was well over 6 feet tall, very fit and had a salt-n-pepper 5 o'clock shadow. He had a nearly full head of hair that was more salt than pepper. His piercing blue eyes zeroed in on me like lasers and it felt like he knew exactly what I was thinking. Thank goodness he couldn't, because my thoughts were not at all appropriate for this setting!

He had broad shoulders that filled out his dress shirt perfectly. His biceps were large the muscle definition could be seen through his shirt. And the bulge in his pants was impossible not to stare at. It looked like he had a pair of golf balls and a bratwurst in his pants!

Maybe it was because I'd been single for 6 months and was becoming desperately lonely. Or it could have been the fact that he looked just like the man I'd often fantasied about having as a 'Sugar Daddy'. Whatever the reason, I wanted Mr. Davis bad! But he was my boss's husband. And he was married to Mrs. Davis who was drop-dead gorgeous. There was no way he would ever want me. I was just a skinny, short, feminine boy who worked for his wife.

When Mrs. Davis introduced me to her husband, Xander, my hand wilted in his. Even his name was sexy! Xander softened his grasp when he realized I wasn't a 'firm handshake kind of guy'. He smiled warmly at me and it felt like my knees were melting. I was really, really glad when Mrs. Davis asked me to have a seat. I could feel my modestly sized penis beginning to stiffen under my panties.

Mrs. Davis was sure to have me seated before she sat beside me at the head of the table. She often did things like that for me. She would hold doors open for me at times, guide me around our office with her hand on my lower back and even push in my chair after I'd been seated on a few occasions. I found it very flattering for her to realize I wasn't at all masculine.

Mr. Davis disappeared behind a door and soon came out with two plates. He set one down in front of Mrs. Davis and the other in front of me. While he went back to get his own dish, Mrs. Davis explained that Xander was a trained gourmet chef and had prepared our meal. She explained we'd be eating maple glazed salmon with a pineapple salsa. There were also a few sprigs of asparagus on my plate and a small serving of lemon couscous.

I sat in my chair and waited for Xander to join us. When he did walk back into the room, he set down his plate and sat directly across the table with Mrs. Davis between us. Xander went into more detail on the meal we were about to eat, I listened to every word that came out of his mouth. He had me mesmerized.

When we began eating, I struggled to keep from looking at Xander. We chatted casually while we ate. They asked about my childhood, my education and other silly things. I learned that they'd met in graduate school and had married shortly after receiving their Master's degrees. Mrs. Davis got her degree in Business Analytics. Mr. Davis got his in Sociology. I knew what Mrs. Davis did for living, so Xander spent a little time explaining how he worked for a foundation and was researching different ways to get the country's population to move away from fast food to healthier food choices. I fell deeper in lust with him after every word he spoke.

Eventually the meal came to an end and after I helped Xander move the dishes to the kitchen, he led me back to join Mrs. Davis in the sitting room I'd passed through earlier. I wanted to reach out and hold his hand so badly! Once seated, I was offered a drink. Being a tremendous lightweight, I asked for a glass of water instead. The last thing I needed was to get tipsy in front of my boss and begin flirting with her husband!

We continued talking and getting to know each other for another hour or so. As the evening wound down, I pulled out my phone to arrange a ride home. That's when Mrs. Davis spoke up and told me that would be a foolish idea. She volunteered Xander to drive me home. I told them it was a long drive and I didn't mind. But neither of them would hear of it.

I soon bid Mrs. Davis farewell and was led out to Xander's big SUV. He was such a gentleman, he opened my door for me and actually helped me up onto the big bench seat. I couldn't resist wiggling my bottom at him while I climbed up there. While he walked around to the driver's side, I squirmed and adjusted my quickly stiffening penis.

As he started the car, I thanked him again for the ride. I then gave him the basic directions to my apartment. We drove along and chatted some more. He at one point asked if I had a car. When I told him what had happened, he looked at me and asked if I needed help changing the tire. I thanked him for the offer, but explained that it would be dark by the time we got to my building and that I'd have it taken care of. He then asked what kind of car it was. He chuckled and said that a Fiat 500 fit me. He went on to say that he bet I looked 'cute' in it.

I blushed like crazy and we drove along for a few minutes in silence. I broke that pause in the conversation by asking what it was like to be married to Mrs. Davis. He told me it was a challenging adventure. I already knew she worked in excess of 60 hours a week and took week long business trips frequently. Judging by her figure, she had to spend a significant amount of time at the gym. But when Xander told me that the dinner we'd just shared was the first time he had sat down with his wife in nearly a month, I was shocked. With work, the gym, appointments, responsibilities and the grind of day-to-day life, they struggled to find time for each other.

He muttered something under his breath about being taken advantage of. And when I asked what he'd said, he tried to change the subject. But I somehow got him to keep talking. He told me that he was doing all the household chores. He cooked and cleaned and even did the laundry. Continuing his rant, he told me he often snored at night and so they began sleeping in separate rooms about a year ago. Their sexual encounters had to be scheduled and it had been months since they'd done anything.

After telling me this, I know he felt guilty for sharing so many private things about his wife with me. I undid my seatbelt and scooted across the seat closer to him. I laid my hand on his forearm. I told him it was okay. I promised that what he'd just said would remain between the two of us. And I swore the things he's just told me would not affect the way I thought of him or Mrs. Davis.

Scooting a little closer to him, with my hand still on his powerful arm, I bit my lip and asked in a soft voice, "You haven't had sex in months?" At this point I wasn't thinking about my job, Mrs. Davis or anything except the fact that Xander had been neglected and needed some attention.

He looked at me and apologized for telling me that. He tried to change the subject. But I scooted a little closer and whispered, "You poor man. Doesn't she know that you have needs?" And I took my hand from his forearm and laid it on his thigh, much closer to his groin than his knee.

He dropped his eyes from the road to my hand. He stared at it for a second or two and then looked up at me. I bit my lower lip while I slid my hand up higher until it rested over the massive bulge in his pants. I felt it begin to harden immediately.

When he didn't react, I scooted until our thighs were touching. Laying my head against his shoulder, I repeatedly squeezed his half hard cock with my hand while whispering, "I can help you with this. Would you like me to take care of it?"

He looked down at me again. Without a word, he reached down and pressed the button that made the seat scoot back farther from the steering wheel. I smiled up at him and crawled up on my hands and knees. Leaning into his lap, I undid his pants and opened them as wide as they'd go. Using both hands I pulled his underwear away and exposed his now fully erect cock. I moaned while wrapping both of my hands around the long, thick shaft.

I slowly jacked him up and down a few times. When he laid his hand on the back of my neck, I opened my mouth, lowered my head and let the fat, squishy head of his cock stretch my lips wide. On my knees with my ass up high and my head lowered on his lap, if anyone saw us, there would be no mistaking what we were up to.

He just rested his hand on the back of my neck, he applied no pressure at all. He was letting me lead the way. I bobbed up and down a few times until his fat cock was dripping with my saliva. I then dove down on his cock until I gagged. I did that three or four times. In my experience, guys love to hear a boy gag on thier cock. Xander was no different and I heard him moan after an especially hard gag. I sucked on him for a few moments then dove down and gagged myself again. I held myself there and let my wet, gagging sounds fill his ears. When I could take it no more, I pulled up and off his cock. Drool connected my lip to the head of his cock.

I looked up at him and said, "Oh My God! You have the perfect cock! It is huge! I could spend an entire day on my knees sucking on you!"

His hand was still on my neck and when he pressed down, I dropped my mouth back onto his cock. Using my hands, I began to jack him slowly while bobbing up and down to just passed the neck of his cock. The taste of his salty, masculine precum made my bald, pale penis throb wildly in my panties. As I got into a rhythm of jacking him off while bobbing up and down at the same time, he slowed the car and turned off the main road.

Between heavy breaths, he moaned, "I have got to pull over before I cause an accident!"

I continued to give him the blowjob he deserved until the car came to a stop and he turned off the engine. I popped off of his cock and rose up to look around. He'd found a remote parking place in a public park not far from my apartment. There was a lamppost nearby which cast a dim light onto us. Lowering my face back down, I went back to work. While I did, the hand that had been on my neck slid down my back until it met the bare skin between my pants and shirt. He wiggled his fingers under the waist of my khaki's and moaned when he felt the lace of my thong.

He moaned, "Are, Are, Are you wearing girl's panties?"

I kept sucking and jacking him off while I moaned, to the affirmative.

He was breathing heavily when he began to speak next, "I've only been with women before. You're my first... I mean, I've never... Is there something I should be doing?"

I popped up off of his cock again, while still jacking him off, I moaned, "Just lean back and let me do the work. Just enjoy yourself."

Before I took him back in my mouth, he asked if he could see my panties. He told me he'd never see a guy in panties before. I giggled as I slid back to the passenger's seat and slipped off my shoes and socks. I then unbuttoned my shirt and slid it off my narrow shoulders exposing my pale, hairless chest with my little pink nipples. Looking him right in the eye, I undid the button and zipper on my khaki's and spread them open. Lifting my hips, I wiggled them down and off. Leaning back against the passenger door, I posed for him. I had both feet flat on the big bench seat. My smooth legs were bent and spread apart wide. The thin strip of white lace that covered my very erect penis was stained by a large moist spot at the head of my skinny, three- and half-inch penis.

Biting my lower lip, I asked, "What do you think, Mr. Davis?"

He half smiled and replied, "I think you are beautiful and I want to take you into the backseat and fuck your perfect little ass."

My back arched when I said, "I don't do that. I stick to giving blowjobs and handjobs."

He quickly apologized and told me he was fine with that.

While I spread myself out before him, I drug my fingertip along my proud, stiff, pantied penis and whispered, "I'm kind of a traditional boy. I want to save my virginity for my wedding night."

I rolled up onto my knees and was bending back into his lap when he asked, "You want to get married?"

Giggling, I said, "I'm sure every boy like me dreams of walking down the aisle one day in a snow-white wedding gown. I probably fantasize about my wedding day and honeymoon more than most girls!"

Pausing as a thought shot through my mind, I rose up on my knees and slowly lowered my panties. Xander stared at my bald, pale penis. He whispered under his breath, "You're beautiful."

I giggled while hanging my panties from his review mirror. Leaning over, I kissed his cheek and whispered, "Those are a little something to remember me by."

Lowering my mouth back onto his cock I began to suck and jack him off with a vengeance. While I gave him my very best work, he began telling me things. He stroked my hair and rubbed my back while informing me that he hadn't had a blowjob in more than 15 years. He'd never put his cock in anyone's butt. And his experience with sexual positions was limited to missionary and only a few times with doggy style.

I felt so sorry for Xander. He was such a handsome man and should have been fucking everything that moved, for at least a short period of his life. But then I remembered who he married. Mrs. Davis obviously kept him on a very short leash. And she obviously didn't appreciate what he had to offer.

I was naked in my boss's, husband's car. I was giving him the blowjob of his life and I know my penis was leaking onto the seat. I quickly hoped that Mrs. Davis wouldn't find that stain. But she left my mind when I felt Xander's cock swell up in my mouth. I moaned softly, arched my back and began bobbing up and down faster than before. I squeezed his cock and jacked him off with both my hands.

He needed to cum. I wanted to make him explode! I wanted to fall asleep later that night with his taste still in my mouth, his scent still in my nose and my stomach full of his creamy love.

When it happened, it occurred very quickly. There was little warning. One minute I'm bobbing up and down and jacking him off. The next, his hand his holding my head down while his cock shot burst after burst of cum into my mouth. I swallowed it all. Xander let out a deep moan and his breathing was in quick gasps. I felt his body tense up with each eruption in my mouth. I was in no rush to move. I held his cock lovingly between my lips on my tongue until the tremors of his orgasm passed. And when his orgasm came to an end, he moaned, "That was amazing."

I learned that evening that cum is a lot like wine. It gets better with age. Until that night, I'd never seen, touched or tasted a 50-year-old cock. And I'd surely never tasted cum that came from a cock that old. His cum was creamy and the perfect consistency for swallowing. It was rich tasting and not as salty or musky as other cum I'd swallowed. Xander's cum was perfectly addictive. I could've drank it by the glassful. I knew I'd have to have more.

I rose up on my knees and after carefully putting his cock back in his pants, I wiped my lips and chin on the back of my hand. I scooted back against the passenger's door and began masturbating while we both caught our breath. Xander watched me touch myself very closely. I seriously doubt he'd ever seen anyone play with themselves before. My legs were spread nice and wide so he had a clear view.