Wanting More

I met Peter when I was 31 and he was nearly 40. We'd both been married before and had had difficult divorces. He'd got his girlfriend pregnant before they were married and their boy was already at college when we met. She'd resented being forced into marriage and they'd split up after twelve years. It hadn't been a happy marriage. He said he'd been too young and hadn't the faintest idea how to treat a wife. He'd spent most of the time regretting not being able to go out so often with his friends and had little sympathy for her needs. That's what he told me, anyway.

My marriage had collapsed for quite different reasons. I'd always been highly sexed and though Eddie was active in bed before we got married, as soon as we'd tied the knot he turned into a bore. He'd rather have sat and watched TV all evening than have sex, despite my doing everything I could to turn him on. I went to bed naked, I even paraded round the house with very little on. I bought truly awful but revealing outfits from Victoria Secret in the hope that a bit of sexy lingerie might excite him, but nothing got through to him. He just wanted his meals ready and his clothes washed and he was happy. In the end I thought that if I didn't find someone who thought I was irresistible I'd die of frustration.

I talked it all over with my sister - we'd always been close - and decided to start looking around.

It wasn't difficult to find someone more than willing to fuck me. I joined one of those classes where you learn salsa and tango and all those sexy Latin dances. There were more women than men and most of the women were middle-aged and looked desperate, so they were no match for me. I wore short skirts and stilettos that made my legs look as if they went up to my armpits, plunging neck lines and uplift bras. When I was partnering a man in close hold I always made sure my whole body was rubbing against him. More than once I felt a flattering erection. One guy in particular used to pick me for a partner whenever he could. He didn't wear a wedding ring but I could see a mark round his finger where one usually sat, but I didn't care. I was playing away too so I could hardly claim the moral high ground. One evening I let him accompany me to the car park and persuade me to sit in his car 'for a chat' as he put it. By that time I was so desperate for it that when he kissed me I just let him do whatever he wanted.

He put his hand on my thigh and kissed my neck, which always turns me on. Over his shoulder I could see people going to their cars in the dim light and it excited me to think that we were about to have sex only yards away. I put my hand on his crotch and was pleased to find he had a nice firm erection. His hand started moving up my leg and I opened my legs to show I wasn't going to stop him. But to tease us both I put it on my tit and pressed it there. He got the message and started stroking it. When he tried to get his hand inside my top I let him push the shoulder strap down and I shrugged my arm out. He pushed my bra down, which I love, and fastened his mouth to my nipple. That really got me going. He spent about ten minutes on my tits, by which time I was pretty desperate for his cock. I put my hand on it and was pleased to feel that if anything it was even bigger than before. I unzipped him and fished it out. It was a good size and felt nice and hard in my hand. I pumped it a few times and hoped he didn't suffer from premature ejaculation. His hand had meanwhile moved back to my thigh and was working its way to my knickers. When he finally put it on my pussy I kissed him hard and made a low moan to show him that I wanted him.

The trouble with modern cars is the front seats are built like cockpits with barely room enough to spread your legs, let alone climb on top of someone. But he reached beside him and suddenly his seat back lowered and he was lying almost flat. I thought, I hope he doesn't just want me to give him a blow-job. But he fingered my pussy over my knickers until they were sopping and I was dying for it. I put my legs in the air and pulled them off, then somehow managed to climb over him. He pushed his trousers and pants down to his thighs and within a second or two he was inside me. Fuck. I was so ready for it that I probably started coming within a couple of minutes. He didn't take much longer and I could feel him come inside me. Oh, it felt good to be fucked. It was rude, dirty and quick and I loved it.

When we'd finished I stayed on top of him for a minute. I looked round at the car park but it was empty except for my car. Not that I was particularly worried about being seen. That would have added to the thrill. I raised myself and eased his softening cock out of me. I reached for my bag and wiped a couple of tissues over my pussy to mop up the leaking come, then I twisted back over to the passenger seat. We didn't have a great deal to say to each other. I pushed my tits back in my bra and pulled my knickers back on.

He smiled uncertainly and said, 'That was good.'

'Yeah,' I said.

'So will you be here next week?'

'Maybe.' I didn't want him to think I was a complete pushover.

For the next couple of months we had sex in his car after the weekly salsa class. We never said much to each other. I never asked him about his wife and he never asked me about my husband. It was understood that we were just fucking, no more. When I'd had enough of him I joined another class and found another guy to fuck me and another after him. I was amazed at how easy it was. When I'd finished with them I always left a pair of knickers stuffed somewhere I hoped their wives would find.

Then Peter came into my life. He was a new guy at the investment bank where I worked and I think I had the hots for him almost from the day he turned up. He was self-assured, handsome in a 40-year-old sort of way, and always looked at me as if he could see right through me. He also had loads of money. Right away I knew I had to have him. I found out he was divorced, which suited me. I was sick of fucking husbands cheating on their wives. By then I'd decided to ditch Eddie. I told him that I didn't love him any more and he acted like it was a bolt out of the blue. Honestly, how can people have such mistaken ideas about their spouses beats me. He thought we were happy together. I realised he'd been living in some kind of fantasy world in which he'd been a dutiful husband and I'd been a contented wife. Why on earth would I want to change it? I tried to let him down gently, but frankly I didn't have the patience. One evening I just came out and told him that he was boring and that I wanted more from life. He looked as if I'd slapped him.

Anyway, he didn't contest the divorce. I had to thank him for that. The last I heard he'd shacked up with some blonde 25-year-old who waited on him hand and foot and, according to mutual friends, absolutely adored him. There's no accounting for taste.

Meanwhile, even though I was a mere statistician and he was a vice-president in charge of something or other, I'd got Peter out for drinks after work a couple of times and he'd told me all about his own marriage. That had ended about ten years before so he was thoroughly single by then. We got on from the off and it wasn't long before I realised that he had the hots for me. He took me home in his car one evening. I told told him I was married so I couldn't invite him in; why didn't we go to his place?

'I didn't know you were married,' he said. 'That changes things.'

I said, 'We're in the middle of a divorce so it's OK.'

He shook his head. 'No, it isn't. Call me when it's finalised.'

I didn't know what to say. No one had ever turned me down before.

He smiled. 'Don't worry. I can wait.'

Funnily enough, even though I was pretty desperate for him by then, his refusal to let me be unfaithful only made him more attractive. It seemed he was sexy and decent. An irresistible combination. So the day I got the decree absolute I went into his office and put it on his desk. 'Do you fancy a drink after work?'

He read it and smiled. 'Your place or mine?'

He was a better lover than even I'd dared to hope. He was decisive but not rough. He seemed to know exactly what I liked. The moment we were inside his enormous apartment, he put me up against the wall and kissed me. He spent a lot of time on that, which I loved. By the time he'd finished I was almost coming in my knickers. 'Undress me,' I told him.

He took my clothes off slowly, stopping as each bit of me was revealed and kissing me there. When I was naked he carried me to the bedroom and put me down on the bed. It was weirdly erotic to be naked while he was fully clothed, but I forgot everything when he kissed my thighs, firmly moved them apart and went down on me. Bliss. He knew exactly what to do, how to tease me until I was almost screaming, how to bring me ever closer to orgasm. When I came it was like a rocket going off inside me. I realised I'd never come like that before. Previous orgasms were damp squibs in comparison. I almost screamed with the rushing pleasure of it. I clutched his head against me and thrashed about like a mad thing. He carried on sucking and kissing my clit until I was sure I'd had a couple more orgasms in quick succession. Even when I'd finished he gave me little gentle kisses to help me calm down. I lay there in total bliss and watched him as he undressed.

For a 40-year-old he had a great body. In fact most 25-year-olds would have envied him. He wasn't muscle-bound but he obviously kept himself in shape. He had the faint outline of a six-pack and nice strong thighs, which I love. His cock was beautiful, uncircumcised but with the foreskin drawn back to show the smooth swollen crown. Erect, it stood out just above the horizontal from his stomach, a perfect angle for fucking, and thick but not too long. I wondered what it would feel like to suck and what it would be like to have him come in my mouth. So when he lay down next to me I kissed him and played with his nipples, then kissed down his chest and abdomen.

'You don't have to do it, you know,' he said. 'I didn't do it for you so you owed me one.'

It made a change to find someone who didn't expect to be sucked off first, never mind as a quid pro quo. I said, 'I want to.' Which was true. I wanted his cock, to kiss it, suck it and taste it. And then I wanted it inside my pussy. I went down his body and took it straight into my mouth without any preliminaries. I deep-throated him, I teased him, I pumped him with my hand while I sucked the crown. In other words I went to town on him. I looked up at him to check he was enjoying it. He smiled and said, 'You're very good at this.'

'Do you like it?' I asked him.

'Oh yes,' he said. 'But if you keep it up you'll make me come and I'd rather fuck you first.'

That was OK with me, so I gave his cock a last kiss and crawled up his body intending to sit astride him. But he put me over on my back and fucked me missionary style. I didn't object, even though it had never been my favourite position. Somehow his calm strength turned me on. His cock felt absolutely right once it was inside me. He fucked me slowly and deliberately, all the time looking at me. Every now and then he'd stop and kiss me. Once he said, 'You're really beautiful, Lizzie. I've been looking forward to this for weeks.'

'So have I,' I said. I used my vaginal muscles to milk him.

'That's clever,' he said. 'Do you mind if I come inside you?'

'No, 'I said. 'I want you to.' No one had ever asked me that before, not even my boring ex-husband who, when he did get around to fucking me, always assumed it was his right.

Peter eventually started pumping faster and I guessed he was soon going to come. The thought of his come shooting inside me gave me a thrill that brought on my own orgasm. 'You're making me come again,' I told him.

'Good,' he said and went at me faster and harder.

If anything my orgasm was even better than when he'd gone down on me. It was deeper, more profound, and it was certainly helped by his come spraying the inside of my vagina. Fuck, it felt great. When it was over I curled up in his arms.

I stayed the night and most nights thereafter. Three weeks later I moved into his apartment permanently and met his father and younger brother. They were so much like Peter - physically and financially - that I could easily have fucked them too. His sister lived in the US most of the time, but he said I'd meet her when she came over. Family seemed to mean a great deal to him. I wondered when he'd propose to me and what I'd say when he did. I spoke to my sister about it but she wasn't much help.

I'd never been more sexually active. We fucked in every room in the apartment and in every room in his country house, in every position imaginable and on every piece of furniture that would take our weight. He sucked me to orgasm at least three times a week and I sucked his cock and drank his come whenever he wanted me to. Actually, I couldn't get enough of it. I think I was a bit mad for him. Even at the office I daydreamed about the sex we would have when we got home. God knows how I got any work done.

For the following few weeks our sex lives couldn't have been better. I told him about my fantasies and he told me about his. He said his were the usual ones about being in bed with two women, but he wouldn't elaborate. 'Our sex lives are absolutely amazing,' he said. 'I love you and I don't want anything more. I would certainly never dream of getting another woman to share what we have.'

I believed him, which made me feel a bit guilty when I told him about my own fantasies. 'Sometimes when we're fucking,' I told him, when we were lying face to face and he was moving his cock slowly in and out of my pussy, 'I want to have your cock in my mouth and my arse at the same. Does that sound awful?'

He laughed. 'No. Just physically impossible.'

'I don't want you to think you don't satisfy me completely,' I said quickly. 'Because you do. It's just that I'd love it if I could have you fucking all my holes simultaneously. That would be amazing.'

'It certainly would be if I could manage it.'

A few days later he said, 'I've a couple of presents for you.'

I just love getting presents, but he wouldn't let me have them until we were naked in bed. He gave me a small box done up with a ribbon. I had a suspicion it was going to contain a sex toy and I wasn't wrong. I unwrapped a small pink conical object. 'Oh, a butt plug!' I hugged and kissed him. 'I've never tried one but I've always wanted to.'

'Do you want me to put it in for you?' he asked, ever the considerate one.

'Yes, please.' I was keen but nervous. I suspected he would treat me gently but I was worried that it wouldn't feel as good as I'd imagined.

He suggested I go on my knees and bend forward. He kissed and stroked my bum then dribbled lubricant and smoothed it round and in my crack. We had anal sex on occasion and I was always careful to wash thoroughly just in case we both should want it. He was always very gentle but I loved the filled sensation of having his cock in my arse. It was quite unlike having his cock in my pussy, but just as much a turn-on. I felt him insert a finger slowly to get my arse ready, then put another in to stretch me.

'Are you OK, darling?' he asked

'Yes,' I assured him. 'Put it in me.'

'I'm putting plenty of lubricant on it, so it shouldn't hurt.'

That reassured me. I felt the hard plastic pressing at my anus, then more pressure as he moved it forward. For a brief moment I thought it might be too large, then my sphincter opened and I could feel it in me. Peter firmly pushed and I felt my hole expanding to take it. I tried to relax but was just beginning to worry that it was going to be too large when suddenly it was completely in and my sphincter closed around it. I could feel the base nestled firmly in the crack between my bum cheeks. I realised I'd been holding my breath and let it out in a contented sigh.

'How does it feel?' he asked.

'Big,' I said, 'but lovely. It's not like your cock. It's a different shape. And hard. It makes me feel very horny.'

He laughed. 'Do you want to see yourself?'

We had a full-length mirror on wheels in the bedroom that we sometimes used when we wanted to look at ourselves fucking. He moved it so I could see my bum if I twisted my head round. The base of the plug was patterned pink glass and looked perfect. It also looked very rude. I lay on my side and drew my knees up so I could still see it, then rolled on my back and looked at it sitting just below my pussy.

Peter smiled at me examining my reflection from all angles. 'Do you like your present?'

'I love it,' I said, kissing him. 'Now please fuck me.'

With his cock inside my pussy and the plug in my bum I felt full in a way I'd never felt before. He'd sometimes put a finger in me while we were fucking but this was so much more. It felt almost like my fantasy, that I was being fucked by two cocks at once. Needless to say, I came really quickly. It was an orgasm quite unlike the orgasms I had without it. My arse seemed to pulsate as well as my pussy. I felt almost delirious with the effect of the two sensations and came for what seemed like minutes, burying my face in his neck and moaning like a crazy woman. 'Oh fuck, this is amazing.'

When I'd come down I asked him if I could have the butt plug in me whenever we fucked from then on.

He laughed. 'Of course you can, darling.'

Then I remembered he had said he had two presents. 'What about my other present?'

'Maybe we should give you time to enjoy this one first. What do you think?'

'I can wait,' I said, thinking there can't be any toy better than the butt plug.

We used it from then on and I loved it. I just loved that feeling of having both my holes filled. One evening he said, 'Are you ready for your other present?'

'Oh yes.'

He handed me a longer box than the first, wrapped up in ribbon with a card saying, 'Enjoy me!' I unwrapped it and discovered a silicon cock, perfect in every detail. I was a little surprised. I'd been expecting a vibrator, something we could both use. 'Is this for when you're not around?'

'Not necessarily,' he said, 'though I did get one as close to my size as I could.'

He was right. It was very similar to his length and thickness. I ran my hand up and down it. 'It feels familiar,' I said. 'Did you model for it?'

He laughed. 'No, but I'm glad you think it's like me. Why don't you try it?'

I opened my legs and went to put it over my pussy, but he said, 'Not there.'

'Where then?'

'I thought you wanted all your holes filled,' he said, smiling.

'Oh.' I suddenly realised what he meant and put it to my mouth. 'Like this?' I smiled and kissed the rounded head.

He nodded.

I'd expected it to taste of plastic but it didn't really taste of anything, though it was a bit cold. I put my lips round the head. It was remarkably like taking Peter's cock and I took it in deeper.

He smiled. 'You said it was your fantasy. This is the best I could think of - for now.'

'How thoughtful, darling. It's lovely. Can we try it now?' Even though it was only a piece of plastic I couldn't wait to have it in my mouth at the same time as the plug in my arse and his cock in my pussy.

We were in the living room and he suggested we go to the bedroom. But I was already horny from handling the dildo and didn't want to waste time moving to another room. He stripped me naked and I bent over the arm of our couch. He oiled my bum and slid the butt plug into me. After the exercise my anus had had over the last few days it stretched easily and the firm cone of plastic was soon nestled gloriously in my bum. I sighed with the pleasure of it. I had the dildo in my hand and put it in my mouth.