The day’s conference sessions had ended hours ago. They were sitting at a small table in a darkened corner of the hotel bar. A candle flame flickered between them, casting a glow upon their faces as they spoke. He was telling her how much he had enjoyed the seafood platter. She had ordered the same entrée, and she agreed that it had been delicious. For dessert she was having a tropical fruit cocktail served in a tall fluted glass. He was sipping from a cup of decaf coffee. She offered him a morsel of pink melon from her glass. He declined, and she repeated the offer. Politely he demurred again. She smiled.
“So, Scott,” she said, “I can’t believe the company sent both of us up here to the winter seminar again. This is the third year in a row they’ve sent us here together. I was just thinking, you and I have certainly spent a lot of time together. How long has it been since you joined the company?” She paused to calculate. “Five years . . . that’s right! For the past five years we’ve spent every single weekday from nine to five together. We even eat lunch together with our team members every day. So we’ve gotten to know each other really well — but there’s one thing I’ve always wanted to know about you. Do you know what that is?”
She drank slowly from her glass of white wine. As she swallowed the last drops she realized that she had just finished her fourth glass. Looking directly into her companion’s eyes, she continued, “What I want to know, Scott — what I’m so curious to know about you, is this: Have you always been faithful to your wife? Did you ever cheat on her?”
His reaction did not surprise her. He sat there silently, acting as if he had not heard a word she just said. He began to look around for the waiter with the check. She watched calmly while her companion searched in vain for some avenue of retreat. His blond hair gleamed softly in the subdued light. Scott was a tall broad-shouldered man of about thirty. He was wearing a dark blue business suit over a white Oxford shirt. Tiny heraldic crests dotted the crimson field of his tie. The name tag from the day’s conference sessions was still pinned to the lapel of his jacket. His tag read: “HELLO, MY NAME IS SCOTT — BURTON COMPANY TEAM LEADER — MARYLAND REGIONAL HEADQUARTERS — SILVER SPRING.”
On the lapel of her suit jacket she wore a similar tag. Hers read, “HELLO, MY NAME IS ERIN.” Like Scott, she was a team leader from Silver Spring. Erin was about Scott’s age. She looked at ease in her gray wool jacket, matching knee-length skirt, and white silk blouse. Her face was slender and attractive. In the semidarkness her pale complexion took on an elegant radiance, like ivory. Her long black hair fell sleek and straight along her cheeks. Right now she wished she could see how the little wheels inside Scott’s mind were turning. In response to her question his jaw had become rigid; he kept swallowing mechanically. Although the work day had ended long ago, the knot of his tie was still tightly drawn. Erin thought about her husband back home. He was always so quick to loosen his tie and open his top button when he sat down for a drink after work. Scott was definitely the more straight-laced of the two men.
“Scott, come on,” she prodded. “You heard me. You’ve been married how long? Six years? You can trust me. I’m not going to tell anyone, I promise.”
“Erin, you know that wasn’t an appropriate question.”
“Okay. I’ll make it easier for you. First I’ll tell you the truth about me. The truth is, I’ve been a bad girl. I’ve cheated on Michael a few times. Now, does that make you feel better? So tell me about you.”
“I can’t talk to you like this.”
“I have to tell you something,” she said, “Every time after I did it, I felt just great. I never felt guilty. It always made me feel like I’d been true to myself. Strange, isn’t it — to feel more honest with yourself after you’ve done something like that? I won’t lie, that’s how I felt. It made me feel really clean.” Leaning forward, she lowered her voice to a subversive whisper, “Listen to me, Scott. Nothing I’ve experienced in my life ever gave me such intense pleasure. It’s the excitement of the illicit. There isn’t a better aphrodisiac. And every time I did it, I reached a new peak of excitement. Believe me, I’ve had moments of pure joy beyond my wildest dreams.”
Scott listened in silence. She continued, “So, I’ve told you about me. Now what about you? Have you done it with other women since you’ve been married?” With an elbow on the table and her chin nestled in the palm of her hand, she studied her colleague, “You’re the shy, silent type,” she smiled. “I know. You never flirt at work. That just makes you more attractive to women. Did you know that? Am I embarrassing you, Scott?”
She knew that he must be thinking about his wife. Erin knew the woman vaguely; they had been introduced a few times at company functions. Her name was Ashley. She ran a busy commercial real estate office in Bethesda. Scott deferred to his wife in all significant life decisions. Ashley was a tall gregarious blonde who had a knack for exhibiting the same robotic politeness to every person and in every conceivable situation. Despite all the introductions, she never failed to address Erin as “Erica.”
Suddenly Erin laughed. “You know what?” she said, “I think you won’t have any problem telling me all about your extramarital affairs. Why? Because you never had any. Am I correct?”
Scott shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Okay, look,” he said, “you’re right. That is, you’re right that my answer is no. I’ve been faithful to Ashley. For the six years since we married I haven’t been with another woman.”
“I knew it!” Erin beamed with satisfaction. “I could tell that about you. You always struck me as a big friendly boy scout. Did you know that?”
“No. I didn’t”
“It’s true. As I was saying, women are attracted to men like that.”
“I wasn’t aware of that.”
“You probably weren’t. I’ve totally embarrassed you, haven’t I? Believe me, I mean all this in a nice way.” Then, looking straight into his eyes, she spoke slowly and distinctly: “So, Scott, you’re in Room 414 upstairs? I’m just down the hall in Room 480. If I knocked on your door at about ten o’clock tonight, would you let me in?”
The blue irises in those charming eyes of his eyes fluttered about like two startled butterflies. She watched as the sparkling flecks of color darted up toward the ceiling, down to the table top, to his left and right, then over to the cashier by the door. Erin wanted desperately to bring those two shimmering dots to rest upon her own dark eyes. Her eyes had to be the flowers where those frightened butterflies drifted safely to repose. Her thoughts pleaded: Look at me! Please look at me, over here, come here. Here I am. I’m waiting for you!
The force of gravity, as well as some other vital forces of nature, came decisively to Erin’s aid. After his brief attempt at evasion, Scott gave up. He allowed his eyes to fix intently upon hers, and once he did this, he did not look away. At this precise moment Erin knew that she had won him. He was hers. She held him with her eyes. It’s always like this, she thought: this steady, vulnerable stare of eyes fixed upon eyes — no further words were necessary.
She reached out and caressed his fingers while they lay motionless on the table. He said nothing when Erin stood up. She retrieved the dinner bill, rummaged in her purse for a credit card and walked over to the cashier. She paid for both of them. Without speaking another word she strode out of the hotel bar. It was just a few minutes after nine.
The conference center was part of the Burton Company’s sleek new international headquarters. The complex contained meeting rooms of all sizes, an auditorium, a bar, restaurants, spas, executive suites, and a hotel. Up on the fourth floor of the hotel the corridors were unearthly quiet as Erin walked from the elevator to her room. As she stepped along the carpeted hallway, she felt a blast of chill February air against her back. Some careless person must have left a window open at the end of the hall. She could hear the faint rumble of cars and trucks as they passed by, a half-mile away on the Garden State Parkway. Drifting into the warmth of her room, she noticed the copy of Madame Bovary on the bedside table. It was an old copy of the novel, a souvenir from her college days as a comparative literature major. She had brought the book along on a whim. It would have been her evening’s entertainment if Scott had turned out to be a coward.
For a moment she stood still, trying to relax in the silence of her room. She had a half-hour before it would be time to begin her final cosmetic and clothing preparations. Suddenly she smiled. Her tote bag lay on the bed. She remembered the magazines inside. Earlier in the day she had picked up several women’s magazines in the news store downstairs. Taking one of the magazines from the bag, she lay down on the bed and began to leaf through the pages.
Since earning her MBA and starting her job with the Burton Company, Erin found that she had little time for serious reading. In fact, for the past few years, magazines like these had been her primary reading material. No one suspected this about her, but she was fascinated by the articles with titles like: Twelve Sizzling Warm-Up Tips To Get Your Man Ready; or How To Find His G-Spot — And What To Do With It When You Find It; or Try These Hot New Positions And He’ll Be Your Sex Slave Forever! She would have been morbidly embarrassed if anyone ever caught her reading these articles. Yet, she read them all, and she re-read them too. There were always new tips to discover, and she wanted to know every one. Her fingers trembled now as she turned the pages. Her mind rushed to visualize every erotic movement, every tantalizing caress. She took mental notes, she categorized the techniques, she considered all the possibilities.
Erin had been waiting a long time for this night. Her romantic interest in Scott had been simmering for years. After he joined the company she had watched with amazement as he rose to become the most respected young administrator in the regional sales office. His friendliness and reliability assured his popularity among staff and management alike. Over the years she had observed him at countless office meetings. Whenever he offered an opinion, the heads around the conference table instinctively nodded in agreement. When he made a humorous remark, everyone laughed. Trainees were devoted to him. It was impossible to resist his charisma. Scott was definitely the Alpha-Male of the office.
She had made her decision a month ago: she was not going to let another winter conference slip by without making her move. During the past weeks the waiting had been excruciating. But now the wait was over. Everything was happening exactly as planned. Tonight the Alpha-Male was going to be hers, and hers alone. She put the magazines aside, closed her eyes, and contemplated the pleasures awaiting her. Wait until he gets a taste of what I have in store for him, she mused. All that vaunted professionalism, all those good-boy mannerisms of his, they’re all going to vanish into thin air when I show him what I can do. She opened here eyes, checked her watch, and shuddered with delight. It was time to get ready.
She undressed and changed into her black satin briefs. She had purchased the new underwear specially for the occasion. The scintillating lace trim added the perfect touch of decadence. The sleek texture of this fabric would greet his searching fingers when they moved up beneath her skirt for the first time. Of course she would leave the pantyhose behind, her suit jacket too. They would just be encumbrances. As she walked across the room she could already feel the warmth of his gaze traveling up and down her bare legs.
Standing before the bathroom mirror, she worked on her eyelashes. She wanted them extra thick to compliment the alluring blackness of her hair. She rinsed with mouthwash until the bracing mint made her mouth sting. She applied a pale gloss to her lips, rolling them until they glistened. He’ll get to know these lips quite well tonight, she thought. She slid her tongue over the tips of her sparkling white teeth and gave the mirror a farewell smile. Then she donned her blouse and skirt and left her room for the night.
As she walked along the hallway toward his door she was in ecstasy. She forced herself to go slowly so she could savor the sweet intensity of the moment. Often at times like these a particular reverie would begin to unfold in her mind. She pictured herself as a child riding on a swing. The swing carried her up into the sky, over the tops of trees. As she surged upward, she looked out over vistas of fields and rolling hills, a view that shimmered all the way to the horizon under a dazzling sun. This reverie continued as she followed the numbered rooms to his door. She pumped her swing vigorously and soared up into the clear blue sky. Birds circled carefree overhead. A breeze blew her skirt so that it billowed up over her knees. She felt the warm wind caress her inner thighs.
It was precisely ten o’clock when she knocked on his door. The hallway around her was eerily silent. She could hear only the low murmur of a television from a distant room. Then a male voice from behind the door called out, “The door’s unlocked.” She stepped into his room. Her heart was thumping as furiously as it did during her most intense aerobic workouts. The room was nearly dark. Off to the right a small reading lamp cast its dome of light over the double bed. The pumping of her heart went absolutely wild when she saw him. He was standing by the large picture window. Immediately she was struck by how handsome he looked in the soft glow that entered the room from the lights of the parking lot outside. His illuminated profile emerged tall and sturdy from the shadows. He looked divine! The angular features of his face seemed to melt in this light. She wanted to take hold of him right away and squeeze him in her arms. Instead, she approached him slowly, on tiptoes. She took one of his hands and placed it securely between hers. Now, unlike earlier this evening, his hand did not remain motionless while she caressed it. His fingertips rolled gently over her wrists. His warm palm brushed across her knuckles and over each of her trembling fingers. Then he took one of her hands between both of his and squeezed with a force that startled her.
“Why don’t we close the curtain?” she said.
She lowered the shade. They each took a side of the heavy curtain and drew it across the length of the window. Now, half-hidden within the shadows, they looked toward each other. Slowly their faces moved together until their lips touched. The soft impact of his lips upon hers sent a staggering jolt through her body. For a moment she could not breathe — she had to break off the kiss and gulp for air. The effect upon him must have been the same. He lost all semblance of control. As if in a panic he seized her in his powerful arms. With hurried, manic clutches his fingers dug into her shoulders and scoured every inch of her back. Soon his hands were running rhythmically up and down her spine, soothing her taut muscles. Engulfed in his arms she felt fragile and small, yet exquisitely safe and warm. Then without warning he took hold of her soft round bottom — and suddenly her feet were no longer touching the floor.
As she floated in the air she rushed to explore his body. She squeezed his rugged shoulder blades, she grasped the muscles of his upper arms, and she pressed her fingers into his solid hips. Slipping her hands into the back pockets of his pants, she squeezed two handfuls of his yielding flesh. Pulling him tight against her body, she greedily welcomed his tongue into her mouth. She teased and caressed his velvet-soft tongue with all the attention she could bestow upon it. Gradually her tongue fell into a rhythm of leisurely rolls over the length of his.
While they kissed she could not ignore the steady pressure of his cock pushing against her belly. She assessed its hardness and measured its length as it probed her soft tummy. And what naughty thoughts began to pass through her mind! It’s almost as if he’s a virgin, she was thinking. He’s such a boy scout. I won’t make him use a condom. I’ll feel his warm little spurts when he comes inside me. This thought made her whole body ache with anticipation.
“Why don’t we sit down?” she said.
They moved to the bed. She sat down next to him and looked into his eyes. “You’re going to be glad you let me in here tonight,” she said.
She proceeded to loosen his tie. As she drew the silken band over his head, she accidentally disturbed a patch of his neatly combed hair. She paused to rearrange the wayward strands, running her fingers repeatedly through the soft hair above his ears, taking in the delicate texture of the fibers with every stroke of her fingertips. Then her quivering hands moved down his chest, unclasping the buttons of his shirt as she went along. When she reached his waist she stopped. “Why don’t you stand up?” she said. “I’ll take off your pants.”
As soon as he stood up, she lifted his shirt over his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. With smooth precise motions she unbuckled his belt, opened his waist button, and pulled his zipper all the way down. A few light tugs brought his slacks to the floor. She let him take off his shoes and socks — and suddenly there he was, standing before her clad only in his white cotton jockey briefs. She took a moment to inspect the male body she had just exposed. Yes! Yes! It was just as she had hoped: well-proportioned, no flab, only traces of light hair on his chest. And his underwear was so clean and white that it seemed to glow in the dark. She inserted a finger along each side of his elastic waistband and pulled downward. When his long rigid cock sprang forward, she gave it a quick glance. “Very nice,” she commented. “Now, why don’t you lie down on the bed — on your back.”
He complied in silence. Bathed in light from the bedside lamp, he lay on his back, glancing about anxiously to see what she was going to do next.
All the articles in the magazines emphasized one point: Be creative! Keep your man guessing. Inspire him with your imagination first, and you’ll get your reward later. For a short time Erin stood motionless beside the bed, observing Scott. Suddenly her hands darted under her skirt. She reached all the way up under the thick lining, pulled her dark satin panties down her legs, and stepped out of them.
His baffled gaze followed her motions as she crumpled her undergarment into a ball and shoved it back up under her skirt. She positioned herself carefully, standing with a foot on the floor and the other on the bed. She wanted him to see everything clearly. She began to brush the handful of satin up and down the length of her slit. The silky material soaked up her wetness as it passed over her swollen lips. Then she stopped. She wrapped the fabric tightly around two of her fingers and pushed the fingers all the way up inside her hole, as far as they could go. Rotating her fingers deep inside her, she scooped up more moisture. She stroked herself vigorously until the fingers were soaking wet. Her firm, rapid thrusts gave off a sound like a hand splashing in a pool of water.
Scott watched, bewildered. After several minutes of rhythmic thrusting she retrieved her underwear from between her legs. She sat down beside him and touched the soaking wet satin to his cheek. Glistening streaks appeared as she drew lines of moisture up and down both sides of his face. She touched her wet briefs to his nipples and rubbed her juices over each little nub. Then she wrapped a layer of the satin like a mitten around her hand and grasped his upright penis. Moving her hand up and down his shaft, she made the smooth satin slide over every inch of his cock. Gradually she took a firm hold of him and began to pump. With each downward stroke she let her fist press lightly against his balls. With each slow upward pull she tugged on his cockskin and squeezed the thick swollen head.
Soon a spurt of clear liquid emerged from the tiny sliver on the tip of his cock. She touched his drop to the fabric that was already drenched in her fluids. With utmost care she guided the wetness into her mouth and tasted their mingled juices. “Very interesting,” she commented, smacking her lips. She inserted the two satin-covered fingers into Scott’s mouth. “Have a taste,” she said. At first she had to coax him to suck. But soon, through the thin layer of fabric, she felt his tongue gliding eagerly back and forth along the length of her fingers. He was turning out to be a very compliant man, and there was still so much more she wanted to try!
She stood at the foot of the bed. “I want you to spread your legs for me,” she said. Then she knelt on the floor, leaned forward, and crept up onto the bed. “Open wide for me, Scott,” she said, as she moved forward between his legs. “I want you to stretch your legs as far apart as you can.”
He obeyed. Gingerly he spread his legs until everything that lay between them was fully exposed to her attentive gaze. She could see every detail of his lovely pink scrotum sack; its loose skin was pulled low by the weight of the two rounded shapes dangling inside. His balls were inches before her face, displayed openly like prized offerings. Glancing upward, she saw his cock gleaming in the light that fell upon it from above. It stood up like a stage actor alone under the spotlight, yearning for attention.
She recalled what she had read in a magazine just a short time ago: Your very first close encounter with your man’s package is always a special treat. Don’t rush! Savor those first touches, and remember: your man’s erogenous zones may not always be where you think they are. You may have explore, experiment a little. You both may be surprised by what you find! Erin decided to explore him with her tongue first. She aimed directly for the rosy swath of skin just below his balls. The moment her tongue touched him there he tried to close up his legs, as if to shield this tender spot from her incursions. But with a firm push from both her hands she forced his legs apart again, and she held them apart. With the flat surface of her tongue she applied a steady pressure just below his quivering sack. Now and then she flicked the crack of his ass, then let her tongue glide slowly upward to tease his balls with fluttering caresses. Much to her surprise, he began to respond with timid thrusts of his own. He pushed his hips forward to absorb the full impact of her probing tongue. His sudden wantonness was a most pleasant surprise, and soon they had a pleasant rhythm going.
Don’t forget to play with his balls! They will dearly appreciate all the attention you give them. Find them, tease them, and worship them. Just remember — they are very tender! With the tip of her tongue Erin probed Scott’s pouch more aggressively. Capturing his balls turned out to be something of a challenge. The two oval shapes scurried away whenever her mouth approached them. They seemed intent upon playing hide and go seek in the silky folds of skin. Undaunted by the wisps of hair tickling her nose, she pursued the balls as they fled. When she caught up with each delicate little egg, she lavished wet kisses upon it. He gasped helplessly while she bathed one captive ball and then the other in her glistening saliva.
While Erin was lavishing attention on the tender morsels between Scott’s legs, she could not ignore the heat simmering between her own thighs. An incipient flood was already seeping from her swollen pussy lips. Still, she forced herself to ignore her own arousal. Pushing her self-discipline to the limit, she kept her attention focused upon her partner’s pleasure.
After giving a farewell kiss to each of Scott’s balls, she began to slide her tongue up the length of his shaft. The articles stressed one thing above all else: You can never pay too much attention to the head. This is where you must linger; this is where you must explore; here you will show him your full powers of seduction.
Perched atop Scott’s cockshaft was a head with steep sloping sides. At first glance the shape reminded Erin of the dome of the state capitol building at Annapolis. She gave the sides a few light whisks with her tongue. At each fleeting touch he gasped out loud. She looked up and saw the need burning in his eyes. She held the eye contact while she licked the head again and again, giving him long slow licks, eliciting another helpless cry with each new stroke of her tongue. His sounds made the wetness between her legs flow more profusely than ever.
Then she remembered another tip: The heads of penises are as varied in shape and size as the men who possess them. No two are alike, but most have a little secret in common. Somewhere, typically on the underside of the shaft and just below the head, most guys have a special pleasure spot. This is where all the male’s most sensitive nerve endings meet at one delicious point. You may have to do some exploring before you find your man’s special spot. But trust us – it’s there, and you will know it when you find it. Good luck!
Erin held Scott’s penis upright in her hand and studied the head carefully. Along its bottom edge she noted a thick rubbery rim. With the tip of her tongue she traced the circular contour of this rim. On the underside of the head she could feel the rim part into two folds. She stopped to look. Yes, there was a gap there — a triangular-shaped wedge where the edges of the rim did not quite meet. She paused, and then with the utmost care she guided the tip of her tongue into the cleft. She wriggled her tongue back and forth. The effect was immediate, and quite astonishing. Scott nearly jumped off the bed! A violent surge of pleasure had just electrified his entire body. She licked him there again, just inside the little cleft. “Oh my God! Oh my God!” he stammered. Erin wanted to cry out with joy. She had found Scott’s special spot!
Within a few minutes she had him finely tuned. She could play him like a musical instrument. She felt just like Tamino, the hero of her favorite opera, who could make the wild beasts of the forest dance by touching his lips to the magic flute. When she brushed her tongue with just a feather stroke against Scott’s special spot, he gasped out loud. When she flicked her tongue hard and deliberately in the vicinity of the spot, he moaned in an agony of pleasure. And when she flattened her tongue and pressed firmly into the cleft, he thrashed about in wild convulsions. Normally a model of professional decorum, Scott behaved shockingly out of character when she was in total control of his little spot!
Meanwhile Erin was acutely aware that the leakage from her pussy was not abating. To make matters worse, deep in her groin she could feel a persistent throbbing, an urgent plea for help – and this was getting to be painful. Again she forced herself to ignore her own dire predicament and continued to direct her attention between Scott’s legs.
Men love to be surprised. Never be afraid to try something completely new, something edgy. Try getting a little tough with your man. Let him feel you take control. You may discover that you’ve just fulfilled his most secret fantasy! Erin straightened the middle finger of her right hand – she had trimmed the nail extra short just for this purpose – and pushed the finger slowly but forcibly into Scott’s anus. He screamed in terror as she made her way deeper and deeper inside. Well, she thought, he’s obviously not used to this – but it’s not my fault that his wife isn’t creative.
Erin made a few exploratory thrusts. Be patient. Move slowly up inside your man. Invade his space. Let him feel what it is to be penetrated. Go ahead, thrust gently in and out. Once he’s over the initial shock, you’ll feel him loosening up. After you’ve stroked him in there for a while, take a look at his erection. We predict he’ll be more aroused than you’ve ever seen him before. This heightened arousal will be yours to enjoy when you’re ready to savor it. As we always say, a little hard labor gets you a very hard man! It was true, everything was happening just as the articles predicted. Scott had finally relaxed. He was passively accepting her sexual dominance over him. She moved in and out with a slow steady rhythm while his stiff cock hovered over his belly, outrageously swollen, its rosy skin pulsating with arousal.
Now more than ever she had to struggle to keep her attention focused on Scott. The throbbing in her crotch was simply unbearable. Her nipples had stiffened, and they too were demanding attention. With every deep breath she took she felt the hard little tips chafe mercilessly against the cups of her bra. Still, she could not stop yet. She had one more preliminary task to perform, and this was a very important one.
She opened wide and took the entire cockhead into her mouth. Lowering her head, she took more and more of him into her mouth until her lips closed in a tight ring half way down the shaft. Then she drew in her cheeks, squeezed her lips like a vise, and sucked. Raising her head slowly, she sucked with all her might, sliding her lips in extreme slow motion over the red hot head. She pulled tenaciously on the head, letting go with a crisp popping sound. Upon release, his cock stood up, bobbing back and forth like a buoy on a stormy sea.
She repeated this movement again and again, and every time she made the trip up Scott’s shaft she made sure that her tongue flicked his special little spot. Meanwhile her industrious middle finger continued its excursions up his anus. The path inside him was soft and pliant now. She hoped that he was appreciating all this. After all, according to the magazines, it couldn’t get much better for a guy.
As for herself, she was trying to hold out for as long as she possibly could. She had sucked and finger fucked him for a solid half hour. Her jaw was tired, her middle finger was numb, and now her thighs were drenched in her own wetness. For the longest time she had desperately wanted to touch herself down there, but she had been too considerate of Scott to divert a hand for even a cursory touch for herself. She tried squeezing her thighs together, she writhed and twisted, she thrust her mound furiously against the mattress — it was all to no avail. Finally she reached the absolute limit of her endurance. She could not hold out for another second. She had to have this huge pampered cock inside her, deep inside her and filling her up. His cock was going to lift her body right up off the earth. Soon she would be the girl on the swing soaring over trees and hills, rising higher and higher until she could see the distant horizon shimmering in the sun.
Erin stood up, unzipped her skirt, and let it drop to the floor. Still wearing her blouse, she straddled him. Her knees settled comfortably against the sides of his torso. To steady herself she leaned forward and put a hand on his shoulder. With her other hand she reached down between her legs and took hold of his cock. She sighed with relief as the tip touched her opening. Effortlessly, as if she were melting over his hard shaft, she sank down on him. He filled her as completely as she had hoped!
When you’re on top, you control the moves. You can find the angles that create the friction where you want it most. And when you start to grind yourself into your man it will drive you both wild! Scott lay motionless below her. Once again Erin recalled her fantasy of the swing. Her most cherished dream was about to come true. In a moment she would be riding up and down in ecstasy. Then, just as she was about to begin her slow sultry movements, she felt the cock twitch inside her. She thought she could feel the warm spurts of his come splashing deep within her belly. Scott averted his eyes from hers. A distorted expression, flush with guilt and embarrassment, passed suddenly over his face.
Rage overpowered her. “You jerk,” she shouted at him. “You rat! You just came!” She glared at him. She felt a powerful urge to bring the palm of her hand crashing down against the side of his face. She wanted to use all her strength to hurt him. Instead, she dismounted. Seated on the edge of the bed, she raised her hands to her head. With slow circular motions of her fingertips she massaged her temples.
Her sudden anger had stunned him. She knew that she had just made a colossal mistake. She had allowed him to see her rage. The evening was over. Now she would have to play nurse to a little boy whose feelings were hurt.
It always happens like this, she thought. They always fail me. And I tried so hard tonight! I tried too hard, again. Earlier in the evening, down in the restaurant, she had lied. She had told Scott that all her affairs had been passionate and fulfilling. In fact, they were always dismal dreary failures, like this one. They were attempted affairs. The fierce flames of her passion invariably burned out in isolation, starved for sustenance.
“Look, Scott, why don’t we try again a little later?” she said. But she knew it was too late.
“Get out of my room, please. Now!” His voice, usually so vibrant and strong, sounded drastically altered now, like a pathetic whine. “Just leave,” he demanded. “I should never have let you in here. This was all your idea. I should never have listened to you. You started this . . . You are evil! You’re an evil woman. Just get out of here!” His voice was charged with a rising indignation, and all of his indignation was directed at her.
Erin stared at this man, her potential new lover, as he lay there on the bed. His wilting penis rolled slowly over his belly as it deflated. Her own abundant moisture glistened in the dark hair that formed a wreath around his comically useless balls. She stared at him from across a wide untraversable distance. The gulf between them had opened up so wide, so quickly, that she could scarcely believe it. Irony. Yes, that was the word. Back in college, a professor of hers had lectured endlessly about the concept of irony. The professor defined it as the jarring divergence between what one expects will happen and what actually takes place. Such contrasts, the professor said, had the power to enlighten as well as to amuse. That was why irony held an inherent attraction for writers and philosophers. Reflecting on her current distress, Erin wondered: what could be more ironic than this?
Scott’s penis lurched again as it shrank. It reminded her of an elongated balloon irreversibly losing air from a tiny puncture. Suddenly she laughed out loud. She couldn’t help it. For a moment she feared that Scott might think she was laughing at him. Then she realized she didn’t care what he thought. She just laughed.
“Get out of my room!” he commanded. He was shouting at her now.
She was able to stifle her laughter for a moment as she stood up, but she burst out laughing again when she reached down to the floor to retrieve her underwear. She laughed as she pulled the satin briefs up over her damp mound. She laughed while she stepped into her skirt and zipped up. Her laughter continued to resound in the room as she put on her shoes. She was still laughing when she walked across the room, stepped outside, and slammed the door behind her.
Back in her room the shades and curtains were tightly drawn. No trace of light could enter. Erin undressed completely. Standing motionless beside the bed, she waited for the trembling of her limbs to subside. She wanted her unclothed body to merge with the utter blackness around her. As she stood there she could feel a warm stream of his come trickling down her thigh. It moved slowly, turning cold as it flowed past her knee and down her calf. When the liquid streak reached her ankle, she wiped it away with a towel.
As she lay down on the bed the wide cotton sheet felt cool against her bare back, against her buttocks and legs. It struck her suddenly that he hadn’t really touched her skin tonight, not once. Gradually the heat returned to her body. In the pitch darkness visions came easily. The images were vivid, the sounds clear and distinct. Her own touches awakened exquisite sensations. Yes, these touches were far more pleasurable than anything she had felt in his room. She used both hands, moving them deftly, expertly. Here in her room her mind could be free; here her mind could be all her own. As the sensations grew more intense, she began to smile.
She was still wearing her white silk blouse and the dark skirt. Her heart was pounding, pounding again as she stared at his door. Then she heard Scott’s voice, “The door’s unlocked, come in.” And there he was, by the large picture window. He looked so handsome standing in the pale glow caste by the outside lights. He came toward her immediately, his eyes radiant with desire. He took her into his arms and locked her in his solid grip. His lips brushed against her ear, “I’ve waited so long for this moment,” he whispered. “I’ve dreamed a thousand times of making love with you, Erin. You’re in all my wildest fantasies. I want you to be naked so I can kiss and caress every inch of your body.”
He began his kiss slowly. There was a delicate restraint in his technique. She was hardly conscious that his tongue had entered her mouth. It simply belonged there — it was made to swirl inside her lips, to curve sensually around her teeth, to delve beneath her own tongue.
Then she was lying on his bed. She was on her back. He had not yet removed any of her clothing, but the hem of her skirt had been pushed up above her waist. Her legs were parted; they were as far apart as she could make them go. He had insisted on licking her through her underwear. The strip of dark satin between her legs was soaking wet, and now his tongue was pushing the narrow band aside. An instinctive cry surged from her throat at the first contact of his tongue against her most intimate flesh.
For several minutes he flicked the tip of his tongue perilously close to her clit, yet not quite there. Then his tongue entered her. He used his tongue deftly to take control of her body. His tongue became a hardened shaft, pulsating with the power to inflame every nerve in her sensual core. She arched her back and pumped her hips as if his tongue were a thick wet cock. She felt no shame at all in bucking wildly against this face. The grace and precision of his movements told her how much he wanted to please her. He searched eagerly for exotic new touches to excite her, and when he found one he held that position, teasing her, thrilling her until she had her fill. Then he would move on to ignite another new sensation, more delightful than the one before. Soon he was pressing directly against her clit. She thrust back at him, rising and falling in tight rhythm with his moves. This was too much! Letting go with a long undulating cry, she came. Afterward, when the throbs had subsided, a lighthearted grin was upon her lips. She knew that this was just the beginning.
Obeying the gentle coaxing of his hands, she rolled over on to her stomach. He tugged at the zipper on the side of her skirt, and the heavy material slid down her legs. Her soft lacy underwear followed. She listened, without looking, while he undressed. She heard the rustle of his clothing, the sound of his zipper sliding. When she turned to look, he was standing at the foot of the bed, naked, looming high above her. His cock stood upright, aligned perfectly with his tall, gorgeous body.
Dawn irresistibly to the fire raging between her legs, he approached and knelt between her upraised knees. Following a volition of their own, her legs parted wide to welcome him. He used his hand to bend his cock downward to the swath of jet-black curls between her thighs. The thick head probed up and down her slit, traveling from top to bottom again and again, sliding along the full length of her steamy lips. A ravishing jolt shot through her body each time the smooth bulb passed near her clit. She felt herself swelling and opening up like a flower exposed to the bright morning sun.
Then the tip of his cock was pushing steadily inside her. He moved forward slowly, almost imperceptibly, making slight in and out motions against the walls inside. When the full length of him was buried within her, he paused. The sweet aroma of his hair was at her cheek. His hard flat chest was pressed against her breasts. She clutched at the wet skin of his back. It was true, she thought: the male body could be such a splendid thing when driven by the desire to please a woman. His hips floated above hers. His cock was gliding effortlessly in and out. She could stand it no longer; her hips rose; she started to move. Launching her body forward, she began to swing. Once she started, it was impossible to stop the ride.
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Sensual Venus!
She wanted to keep sliding up and down his cock forever. Each ascent was an ecstasy, every descent a delight. Eventually she passed the point of no return. The ropes of her swing must have broken. She soared upward, and she was never coming down. She sailed higher and higher. Warm clouds enveloped her. Moist air caressed her body until her skin tingled all over. Her thrusts accelerated, always matching her lover’s speed and vigor. Suddenly a bolt of lightning flashed between her legs; a rumble of thunder descended from above. His groans resounded like deep echoes of her own wild cries. Yes! She could feel him! She could feel him pulsing, throbbing; she could feel the hot splashes of his come spurting inside her. His drops ignited new bursts of lightning. A great surge seized her body and wrung it and shook it. Explosion followed upon explosion until she was left panting for breath. When the storm had finally passed, she looked down upon the world from the serenity of her cloud. The hills and valleys below shimmered in sunlight. The world was truly a wonderful place!
Erin lay back on her bed, a smile of total contentment upon her lips. Her hands were drenched. Between her legs the wet spot on the sheet suddenly felt cool. She got up and felt her way through the darkness to the bathroom.
After a long shower she slipped into an oversized T shirt – it was an old faded shirt with a portrait of Mozart on the front, another remnant from her college days. She climbed into bed and turned on the light. There on the bedside table was her copy of Madame Bovary. She leafed through the pages until she found her favorite passage. It was the chapter that described the day Emma and Leon spent together at the harbor in Rouen. They were deeply in love. For a day Emma had escaped the boring country town where she lived with her husband. This was, Erin thought, the most beautiful day of Emma’s short sad life. It was a perfect day. Surrounded by flowers, in the shelter of their hotel room, the lovers enjoyed a breakfast of colored ices. Later they took a boat out to an island. At a cabaret on the island they dined on fish, cream, and cherries. In the afternoon they lay on the grass by the shore and kissed beneath poplar trees. As the water flowed past them, they saw blue sky and heard the rustling of the wind in the leaves. It was as if they had never seen the sky before or heard the rustle of the wind in the trees.
Erin thought: Every person is entitled to experience a day like that at least once in a lifetime. Didn’t Emma’s untimely death seem so much more poignant, more tragic, simply because she had known that one day? Did I ever have such a day? A night? An afternoon – a time when passion even for a fleeting moment transformed my world into a paradise? Perhaps there were a few times when it almost happened. But in the end, it always eludes me. And so often, like tonight, I fail so miserably!
In a few weeks Erin would be turning thirty. During recent months, the mere thought of her approaching birthday had given her chills. Now the coldness settled over her body again. She placed Madame Bovary back on the table and turned off the light. As she lay awake in the night her unsettled thoughts became clear: Of course I will keep trying. The last thing I will ever let happen to me will be to die an old woman who looks back on her life and sees that she gave up too easily. I’m sure Flaubert would understand how I feel.
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