The Zipless Fuck

[chanaud]

OOC: A closed thread for my zipless fuck!

“Hello?” A sleepy male voice answered.

“Hi, did I wake you?”

“No, no…I was just watching TV?” His voice rose an octave, sounding alert suddenly and obviously disguising his fib.

“Oh, ok. I’m just calling to say, I’m on my way home.”

“Have you had dinner? Do you want me to warm up something?”

“No, I had a ceaser salad, a while ago, when we last spoke.”

“Right, that’s right. I remember now. Do you want me to wait up for you?” A heavy sigh escaped my body. It was obvious from his tone, he was dead tired and was just being polite.

“That would be nice.” I answered back, testing him.

A long silence. I can actually hear his mind reeling for the right answer. “Well, I’ll try to, but if I fall asleep, wake me, ok? I missed you.”

Jesus, Peter! Why can’t you be rude for once in your life! Just tell me to be quiet when I come in, and don’t bother to wake you, because you’ve had a long day and need your sleep! Just tell me to shut up and to fuck off!

“We’ll see. Good night, my trains coming.”

“Be careful, babe. I lo…”

Wordlessly, I hung up before he had a chance to finish his usual ending to all of our conversations. My train wasn’t due to arrive yet. I still had fifteen minutes. I turned my phone off and walked down the musty stairs slowly, careful not to trip in my black heels.

The platform to the green line taking me out of the big city and to the suburbia of Connecticut, where my home was, was surprisingly empty and eerily quiet. My heels echoed loudly on the concrete ground, heightening my loneliness. I looked around for anybody, a pulse of any kind. There were none. It was just me and the stifling hot heat.

As usual and of lately, my mind started wandering. What if I wasn’t alone? What if there was a gang of guys, playing their loud rap music from their oversized boom boxes, wearing their baggy pants and baseball caps backwards when I happened to walk down the stairs? What if they surveyed me as just what I am, a well to do conservative executive from the suburbs, alone and vulnerable, miles away from civility or any help. What if there was just one other person, a tall faceless man in a long coat, who can sense my fears and my dreams, walks over to me and pushes me against the cold wall and lifts my skirt, so his hand to find total wetness. What if….

A loud scream came to a halt, waking me from my revelry. My body shuddered from the tiny orgasm of the what ifs. A dampness flooded my center, soaking my panties, and even dared to drip down my inner thigh.

Waiting for the door to open, I looked around embarrassed of my reoccurring dream. Someday… I told myself. Someday, someone will catch me and will know exactly what I was thinking about. Then the thought of that, made my pulse quicken again. I crossed my legs from the leakage from dripping down again and to still the throb between my legs.

The door slid open. I walked in the empty compartment and sat with my back against the window pane. My eyes closed, welcoming the peaceful interlude before home.

I must have fallen asleep instantly, because when I woke up the train was still and the door was ready to close as a tall figure slipped in. He smiled at me, his cheeks pink from the heat of the night air. I smiled back, not because he smiled at me, but because I recognized him. I’ve noticed him before, multitude of times. He was just a stranger, sharing the same train. One of the many strangers, a zipless fuck, I’ve fantasized about while making love to my husband.

Soundlessly, he fell in his seat and dared to look directly at me. Again he smiled broadly, unapologetically and boldly, capturing my attention and making me blush furiously. His long legs extended out, almost touching mine. His brown loafers were pointing up at me. I imagined it lifting my skirt as my pulse beat rapidly. A few blonde strays fell over his eyes, shading the color, which I imagine them to be silvery blue. Uncomfortably, I sat straight up and uncrossed my legs, before crossing them again. I caught a whiff of my wetness, my orgasm before entering the train and wondered if he can smell me too.

“It seems we’re the last two souls left tonight.” He whispered as if the car was full, despite being alone.

 

[Miltone]

Him

She said nothing in return, simply holding her head high and proud, her full lips parted slightly. But there was something in her eyes, something furtive and glowing and mysterious. I had seen that look before in her. Infrequently we would be on the same train out of the city. Occasionally it was early, but more often it would be late, and sometimes very late like tonight. But it was the look that I could not forget, like there was a smoldering passion lurking inside her that haunted me each time I got off the train at my stop. I could feel her eyes following me as the train started up and I hurried toward the stairs. Often I would look back at the train and see the silhouette of her face staring out the window, I would wonder about her.

She was a beautiful woman, always dressed in finely tailored skirted suits. Close cropped brunette hair swirling about her heart-shaped face and a pair of piercing green eyes. And her shoes, when I had the chance to see, her shoes were always different, a fashionable cross between comfort and style. Tall and imperiously slim, she had a casual elegance about her, from her small firm breasts that always seemed to flirt with the vee of her suit jacket on those hot days like this one when she didn’t wear a blouse underneath, to the lean nip of her trim waistline and the gentle womanly flare of her hips. And then there were her legs, long and shapely, and often bare in the heat of summer.

Oh, I had noticed her before many times, memorizing every curve and line, noting the hairstyle after each cutting, and always imagining myself with her. My own marriage was a sham, a crumbling empty hulk of a relationship that had settled into a civil partnership. I know she didn’t love me any more and I found it hard to think of her in those terms for several years. It was only for the kids that we stayed together. And on those rare occasions when we attempted with various degrees of success to have sex, it would be this woman on the train that I would think of, the cool, pretty woman in the dark business suit.

So, tonight, she is on the train for the first time in a couple of weeks, sitting alone in an empty car just inside the door. And I sit across from her and smile. She does see me, and her face is instantly flushed. She licks her lips nervously and uncrosses her long legs, recrossing them again. The shimmering sound of the satin lining of her skirt moving against her legs plays like a harp on my mind. The slight scent of arousal greets my nose. She looks at me, but doesn’t speak. And I can see that mysterious look in her eyes again. What is she thinking? Is it the same thought as mine? On this hot night, in a deserted train car rattling north toward Connecticut, I was determined to find out the nature of that look in her eyes.

I watch as the pendant hanging from her necklace undulates back and forth between her breasts. Her eyes fall to the empty seat beside her, then shoot back over to me. What is it that she wants? Maybe she wants nothing, just as I do. No guilt, no remorse, no power games, no taking or giving, no one trying to get anything or prove anything. Almost as if in a dream, the rattling sound of the train fades a little and I can hear some violins playing somewhere. Feeling my pulse quicken and my heart begin to pound, I take a deep breath. I stand up and she looks up, startled almost hurt, perhaps thinking that I am moving away. But I swing my body over and sit beside her on the bench.

Her eyes haven’t left me. She reaches up to brush the hair back from my forehead. Her fingertips are warm—no, hot. Her face is glistening in the blare of the train car lights. I can feel her breath on my face as I turn toward her. I lift my hand and it is drawn to her magnetically, to her waist at first then up over the breast of her suit jacket, then back down to her hip and to her bare leg.

Her nose is touching mine as we lean together and her hand snakes behind my neck as she brushes her lips against mine. Her legs uncross as my hand eases up along her silky thigh. I can sense the warmth and dampness ahead. Our lips part and our tongues touch. I feel her hand searching my body, my chest, my stomach, and my crotch. One hand moves up her thigh while the other reaches up to explore her breasts. I quickly unbutton her jacket to reveal a skimpy silky black bra. Passing my hands over her breasts, I feel her press her firm flesh into my palm, raking the sharp points of her nipples on me.

My breath is coming hotter and faster as her hand fumbles with my trousers. She moans when she delves her hand inside and curls her fingers around my length, gripping me firmly, feeling my growing hardness. My hand has reached the moist intersect of her thighs and rubs strongly against her. She parts her legs and presses her sex into my hand. I can feel the folds of her pussy opening and hear the staccato of her shuddering breath as my fingers pry underneath the damp silk of her thong and touch her.

The lights in the car flicker off for several seconds but we do not need to see, for our hands and mouths and our eager sexes are all the senses that we need. As I move the flimsy cups her bra aside, she directs my mouth to her taut nipples, groaning deeply as I kiss and suckle and then nibble on her sensitive tits. Then she pushes me away and drops her head to my lap, pulling out my cock and taking it into her mouth. I toss my head back as I feel her hot wet mouth envelope me. Her tongue swirls around and around, licking madly, frantically. I reach for her breasts and roll and twist and pinch her nipples. Her moans vibrate along my long hard cock.

Then she raises her head up and sits. Reaching up under her skirt, she pulls her thong down to her knees and her skirt up past her hips. She gets up and settles her ass down on my lap, taking my cock deep inside her pussy in one quick steady hard push. She groans and leans back against me, her hand reaching back to rake the back of my neck. Then we start to move, slowly at first but with a steadily increasing pace, and an equally increasing intensity. A thick growl escapes my mouth.

 

[chanaud]

I couldn’t believe it. Not for a million years. He came to me on that fateful night, as if he’s known me my whole life and was there to unlock the key to the dark recesses of my darkest fantasies.

He was just one of the many zipless fucks that taken through my mundane life. But they were only my fantasies and I had never entertained the idea of cheating on my husband, or at least put anything into the works to start an affair. But Him, my zipless fuck made me the woman I am today. A complete woman, a satisfied woman, a very desirable woman.

Soundlessly, like a stealth cat, he glided towards me. I just sat there, stunned for the first time in my life. My mind froze, I couldn’t say a single word. His eyes just stared into mine, hypnotizing me, pulling my body towards him and I just sat completely powerless.

Only when he was right before me, I had to reach out and see if he was real and not a mirage. I had to brush his hair away from his eyes and see if there was any life or color to his gaze. They were translucent, almost colorless. I had to see more, feel a pulse. I needed an evidence that he was a breathing soul. My hands glided up and down his body, peeling each layer off his bare skin. I kissed him. Immediately our tongues melted as one. I still couldn’t believe he was live. MY hands, my lips, my tongue were everywhere -- his body, his cock, his mouth -- needing proof of his existence.

Breathing was so difficult to do. My heart was pounding in my ears and my head. I couldn’t hear a thing. I was hot, burning and shaking with feverish lust. And yet, I couldn’t stop. I had no control of my actions. I just knew one thing…I had to have more, more of him.

My hands grabbed his cock. Its thickness throbbed and pulsated instantly to my touch. He groaned. Instantly my pussy was wet and ached for his touch. I couldn’t wait nor bother to undress. I lifted my skirt and without preamble, I sank down on his cock. I felt his cock stretching my walls. I was so wet, letting him enter with such ease. And with one shove, he was filling me completely and throbbing inside.

Even then, I couldn’t stop. I bounced up and down, riding him hard and furiously. With each thrust, I screamed into his ears. His own frantic thrusts met mine, our hips gyrated together until it was too painful. Then we went back to fucking with long strokes until again, we couldn’t take the separation and went back to grinding . Then he stood up, taking me with him and started fucking me with long and powerful thrusts. I felt each and every vein…. in and out…in and out. My pussy clenched his cock when he was deep inside, trying to lock him in, but he prevailed and pulled out until his bulbous tip was rubbing against my lips and then back again…and again…and again…and again… until finally, with my head swimming with colorful fireworks, my body exploded with screams and waves and waves of hot molten cum.

I thought I had died. I felt so weightless and free. I threw my head back against his chest and laughed maniacally and kissed him. With both hands, he grabbed my head, twisted my body around and smothered me with a deep kiss, keeping me tingling and hungry for more.

Twisting my lips off his, I slid down his body and took his turgid cock into my hands. It was red and wet from my cum. It throbbed in the palms of my hands. I was fascinated with the power it held. I wanted to worship it and pay homage to it. With both hands, I kissed it and caressed it and tugged it gently, then hard. I can smell my own cum, so powerful and sweet, and that excited me even more. I took his cock in my hands and rubbed the tip across my face, then pressed it’s whole length, leaving glistening trails of my cum and not caring a bit. My tongue reached out and licked and savored it. I loved his cock. I loved the way it’s so soft and hard at the same time. I love the way it throbbed and pulsed with life. And I especially loved the little gasps and moans that flew out of his mouth each time I held or touched it differently.

When I was done exploring, I looked up at him. His eyes shone down on me, and he was smug grin. I smiled back. Then took him into my mouth…

 

[Miltone]

This all felt like a dream but I knew better, for even in my wildest dreams the woman had never responded like this one, cumming with such unexpectedly violent passion, her cries and screams of pleasure filling the empty train car as we hurtled northward. My wife, Cynthia, at her prime around the time we married had never come close to displaying such an explosive climax. Even Lizzie, the wildest, sexiest girl I had ever been with, couldn’t match the intensity I felt with this stranger who had screamed and clutched at me, thrusting her hot tight pussy back against me, and coated my throbbing cock with her cum.

Was it because we had both had longed for and waited such a long time for a great passion to materialize in our lives? Was it because we had become bogged down in the extraneous details of our separate marriages, kids, mortgages, whatever, that we had lost hold of the passion and romance we truly needed to remain fresh and alive and vital? Or was it simply because tonight there were no details, no commitments, no words, no involvement, no names, no expectations—just this all-consuming mutual want and need and desire?

Before this night, I had never had an affair—had thought about it once or twice when tempted by the proximity of an enticing co-worker or a sexy new client, but had never actually done anything. That sort of thing always seemed to happen to other guys, more ambitious or shiftless or compass-less than me. I had become content to lie beside that unresponsive lump in my bed night after night, sometimes longing for a warm erotic touch, only to fall asleep frustrated and feeling terribly alone.

There were times when I would wake up alone after she had left for work or when she was away visiting family and I would think of one of my hundreds of imaginary mistresses, the cute little clerk at the Lackluster Video store, that strikingly attractive blonde woman whom I frequently saw at the local grocery, the girl who lived in the apartments behind my house who loved to sunbathe in the nude on hot summer days, or the girl in the red Mustang GT convertible who often passed me by on the way to work. And many times it was this lovely woman in the dark business suit who came to mind and I would imagine her touch and her kiss and the sounds she would make while having sex, and my hand became her hand, her mouth, her pussy.

And now she sat on the bench before me while I held onto the upper hand rails of the train car and watched as she took my aching cock in her hands and her mouth, surrendering to the pleasure of her touch and kiss. Her lips stretched around the girth of my cock, enveloping the head while her tongue swirled around and around. Then I felt her draw in her breath, sucking me deeper into her mouth, her tongue never stopping its movement side to side. Then she pulled back so that just the head remained inside and her tongue spun around and around again. She was tasting me, exploring me, stirring a range of feelings and emotions that had long simmered well below the surface and were now bubbling to the top.

She looked up at me with her intense green eyes and seeing what surely was a look of supreme pleasure on my face, she took me deeply into her mouth again. Her cheeks collapsed around my long hard member as she slid it in and out of her mouth. Her hands never left me, either clamped around the base or firmly stroking the slick shaft. My cock was burning and tingling wildly, a sensation that was shared by the rest of my body. I hung onto the handrails tightly with one hand and let the other fall to her head, weaving into her close-cropped dark hair, not pushing or pulling, but simply feeling the sensuous motion of her head back and forth as she took me into her mouth hungrily. Each time she took me inside, a low animal-like growl cried out from deep in my chest.

Coming up for a breath, she let me slip from her mouth while still stroking me with both hands, her thumb circling the cap, making my body rock and sway along with the movement of the train car as I succumbed to the power of her touch and kiss. My other hand dropped to her shoulder. As I glanced downward, the sight of her breasts bobbing in the opening of her jacket, her bra pulled completely away from them, drew my attention. I reached down and squeezed them hard and twisted and pulled the taut nipples. She took my cock back into her mouth eagerly and wildly, moaning loud enough that I could feel the vibrations with my cock.

I couldn’t remember another time when I felt so huge, so excited, and so ready to explode. The way she was stroking me with her hands, sucking me into her hot wet mouth, and fondling my balls was quickly building the tension to overflowing. She must have felt it too as she looked up at me with her eyes sparkling. She leaned her head back and stroked my cock tightly. I felt the hot wet surge from deep inside me erupt and a thick white streak of cum shot across her cheek. Then she closed her lips back around me and stroked me until I emptied myself inside her mouth. Deep guttural groans rumbled from my throat as she sucked me dry and licked me clean. Then she scooped the cum from her cheek with her finger and sucked it dry.

I fell to my knees and took her face into my hands, kissing her with a mad fierce passion. The taste of my salty sweet cum on her tongue only stirred my aroused body more. I frantically kissed her cheeks, her neck, her ears, and her shoulders. Then I sought out her breasts and sucked and nibbled them until she cried out in ecstasy. Her skirt was still raised up to her hips and I ducked my head down between her soft trim thighs. She gasped as my lips and tongue fell to her pussy, still very wet and very hot. She hooked a leg over my shoulder as I began to lap at her dripping slit, licking from the tight little rosebud of ass along her moist lips to the hard little nub of her clit.

Everything I tried seemed to bring an incredible response from her and her pussy dripped down onto the seat bench; when I fucked her pussy with my tongue, she arched her back and swore loudly; when I licked and sucked and nibbled on her clit, she clawed at my head, pulling and pushing at me; when I fingered her wet folds and searched upward for her g-spot, she rocked her hips crazily; when I probed the tight circle of her anus, she nearly exploded off the bench. Her breathing became a succession of short shallow breaths and she seemed to cum each time I touched her. When a particularly strong tremor rumbled through her body, she fumbled at me, grabbing me by the ears and pulling my face up to hers for a wild kiss and the taste of our cum is mixed by our tongues.

As I rise up between her legs, I felt her reach for my cock and, finding it still hard and ready, she guided it toward her willing pussy. Both of us were totally consumed by the moment; she lay back on the seat and I mounted her using long slow strokes to enter her heated sex again and again and again. Her legs wrapped around my hips and her heels dug into the tight cheeks of my ass. She screamed and clawed at me ferociously, as I thrust into her harder and faster with each pass. I collapsed onto her, pressing her backside into the hard bench, my arms clutching at her shoulders as I humped her furiously.

Time seems to lose its grip on us. I can feel an explosion building in her and myself as well. Harder and faster, harder and faster, like a man possessed, I pump myself deep into her until her teeth bite into my shoulder, her nails claw into my back and her body trembles and shakes wildly. I don’t stop until I have filled her completely and my breath is exhausted.

The pounding of my heartbeat and the ringing in my ears settle down so that all I can hear is the trundling noise of the train car and the soft sigh of her breath on my neck. Damp with sweat and the sweet fluid of our mad sex, we silently move and shift and slowly sit up. Clothes are slowly rearranged, zipped, buttoned, snapped into place. She takes out a hairbrush and passes it through her close-cropped curls. She smiles and draws it through the sweaty blond hair falling into my eyes. Her cheeks and neck are still flushed with the pink of lovemaking. My shoulder is stinging from the bite marks she left at the height of her passion.

We have long ago left the tunnel and are now traveling through the darkened countryside. Occasional bursts of light from streetlights or house flicker through the windows. Recognizing this part of the run, I realize that my stop is not far. When I go to speak to her, she raises her fingers to my lips to quiet me. Her hand brushes against my cheek and she leans toward me. We kiss, strangely enough, a warmly romantic kiss, like that shared by long-time lovers upon saying hello … or goodbye.

Then my stop looms quickly through the hot night air and I make ready to leave. She pulls out a scrap of paper from her purse, scribbles something down, and then presses it into the pocket of my jacket. The train begins to slow and then lurches to a stop at the platform. I step through the door into the balmy air. The door hisses closed behind me and I glance back at the train as it jerks forward. She is watching me intently but looks away as the train pulls off. I am nearly home before I remember the scrap of paper. At a stoplight I unfold it and read …

 

[chanaud]

Same time, tomorrow night!

I watched him walk away until I couldn’t see his shadow anymore, then laid my head back on the cold glass, and closed my eyes. The smell of our sex lingered in the car, leaving the one bit of evidence that what just happened was real, and not just a dream.

The train screamed abruptly and the doors opened, I opened my eyes and noticed I must have fallen asleep. Gathering my purse and briefcase, I wondered briefly if it was all a dream. But the rawness between my legs and his seed combined with my own wetness confirmed otherwise.

The house was dark. I sighed in relief. I wasn’t ready to face my husband, Peter just yet. My body was still raw and tingling. I can still smell him…us. Besides, I still wanted to bask in the afterglow on this newfound delicious sensation. Welcoming the dark, I undressed soundlessly and slipped into my side of the bed, allowing just the slightest movement of the bed. Feeling my presence, Peter moaned, released a loud snore and regressed back to dreamless state. I was still wide awake. My body was alive, screaming…my fingers grazed every part where he had been, retracing his hands and mouth, reviving the memory. It took all the will power I had to withhold the gasps. Peter must have sensed it. He turned to me and kissed me hard, startling me. His tongue jabbed brutally into my mouth; his hand grabbed my hand and tossed it aside. I couldn’t react. I just accept him, imagining it was my zipless fuck pulling my labia apart and plunging his fingers into my pussy. The thought of Peter touching another man’s seed filtered through my mind, but I didn’t have time to worry about it further. Peter rolled on top of me, and with a job of his knees, split my legs wide. A moan flew out at the initial penetration. This was so unlike Peter. He had always been a passive lover and has never entertained the idea of using force, not even for role playing. His body lay heavy over mine, his hands pinned my wrists above my head, forcing me to take his deep jabs, his deep assaults. My legs flew around his waist and matched his every stroke. His hips were hurting me, grinding into mine. My hips matched his every stroke, rising high to meet his, begging for more. The room started spinning, it was incredibly hot. I can taste the salt of his sweat. My nails clawed at his back, his ass. Peter’s strokes were shorter and more forceful. I knew he was close, my body knew he was close. His mouth came crashing down on mine, his tongue jabbing continuously, matching the strokes of his cock…until we exploded as one. Sweating and panting, we fell apart… Peter to his side and me thinking about how my husband’s cum was mingling with the stranger’s before I fell into a deep exhausted sleep.

The alarm woke me soon after. Immediately my body stretched out its tiredness and thought of my midnight date. A warm smile crossed my face, but was immediately abrupt by the sound of Peter’s early morning routine. He walked out of the bathroom and stopped. I can feel his eyes on me, lingering on my sleeping form, sighed and continued his morning ritual. I lay like that, feigning sleep until I heard his Mercedes pull out of the garage. Then I jumped out of bed and danced lightly around the house, while extra pains on my preparation for work and of my zipless fuck.

The day was a dreamy fog. It was also full of long tedious teleconferences. My staff and co-workers had often found me gazing past their shoulders and some even questioned the source of my wistful smiles. Of course, I didn’t reveal its source. I just smiled back secretly and returned the subject back to the projects I’ve been working on. Peter managed to call me during the day, inquiring on our evening plans. The phone trembled against my ear as I concocted an excuse to work late. My heart fell at his dejected voice. And I also noticed he got over it quickly when he mentioned that he had a late night paper. Still the guilt stayed with me.

Then I wondered….

What if he won’t even be there? What if I’m just a night fling? What if…..

The questions loomed ahead as I retraced down the same stairs. My heart was pounding in my ears…head…

Dear God, let him be there. This will be the last time, I swear..…

 

[Miltone]

The crisp night air nipped at the beads of sweat that dotted my temples as I walked briskly from the train through the empty parking lot toward my Lexus. The familiar scent of jasmine and leather couldn’t draw my mind away from what had just happened. My body was still tingling every inch of the drive home. I hadn’t really cheated on my wife, had I? Nothing that felt this good could be wicked or depraved or immoral, could it? I had always been the good guy, always faithful and true, despite the gloomy feeling of loneliness that had permeated our business-like marriage in last several years. I had never thought it possible that I would taste another woman’s body, that I would entertain her kiss, her touch, or her love. What had happened tonight seemed so much like a dream, that by the time I arrive home I nearly convinced myself that it hadn’t really happened, that it was really some sort of trick of my imagination.

But then I moved through the silent house, petting the adoring, happy dog, careful to scratch her behind the ear, and my body was still vibrating with a strange resonance. And then I stripped down for bed and felt the telltale sticky residue on my cock and the dried crust of our mingled cum on my pubic hair, and I knew that it was no dream. A shower would be a dead giveaway so I hand washed as silently as I could.

Though flaccid, my cock was still thick and longer than usual and very sensitive to the touch. Out of habit I reached for my pajamas on the hook behind the bathroom door but almost didn’t take them down. I didn’t feel like wearing anything. But certainly Cynthia would be suspicious since I never slept in the nude. Maybe just the bottoms and no shorts underneath … that wouldn’t be too obvious.

I eased into bed, careful to move the covers only enough to slip my ass underneath and not send through that breath of cool air that would wake her. Not that anything would this time of night. The kids were asleep and she was sleeping soundly. The moment that I settled down uneasily between the silken sheets, I heard her breathe deeply, that kittenish humming snore that had driven me mad for the past ten years. I could picture her beside me, the oversized t-shirt emblazoned with a supplier’s logo, the heavy cotton panties, something that my mother would be comfortable wearing, maybe some thick cotton pajama bottoms. All asleep and content in her own mindless way. And here I was, my body, vibrating, resounding with a new excitement, tingling and throbbing like it hadn’t since … since … since I couldn’t remember.

How many times had I slipped between these very sheets, my heart and mind and body ablaze with passion and desire? And each time when I moved close to her, my hands seeking to touch her, my lips yearning to kiss her, my warm and rigid cock pressing up against her sweet little ass, how many times had she brushed me aside, pushed me away, wormed her body away from me, and left me feeling alone and desperate and ashamed. And tonight would be no different. So I rolled over onto my side, turned my back to her as I had so many other nights and tried to fall asleep. But there was one difference tonight. There was the thought of another woman on my mind, a woman of passion and incredible desire that made this lump beside me seem so pale and unattractive. I fell into a restless sleep that came and went several times this night leaving me restless and tired the next day.

At least once an hour the following day at work, I pulled out the note she had slipped me and re-read it a dozen times. Same time, tomorrow night! Same time, tonight … maybe I shouldn’t even go. I know, I’ll deliberately leave early. But then I remembered the look in her eyes, heard the sound of her wild cries, felt the way her pussy tightened up around me … oh, fuck, what was I doing? She knew that I would be there. Was there really any doubt? Yet, my mind labored to find reasons not to. I was married, she was probably married, I didn’t know her … Christ! I didn’t even know her fucking name! Yet I wanted her, I had wanted her for a long time now, I had dreamed of being with her many times, and now that I had tasted her body, felt the way her body trembled as she came—more than once—I knew that I would be on that very same train. It would be impossible to deny.

Late that night, I watched as the train pulled through the deserted station and waited for it to come to a complete halt. The forward cars were empty. When the last car came into view and the train lurched to a grinding hissing halt, I saw her, staring straight ahead, not toward the platform where I stood. The doors opened and I stepped onto the car. Still she sat, her eyes cast forward, unmoving, her pretty face expressionless. Not a scrap of makeup, yet she was absolutely … completely … beautiful. A business suit adorned her slender frame, this time in a soft camel color—cashmere perhaps? I quickly scanned the empty train car and stepped toward the back as the train hissed and lurched forward, threatening to throw me to my knees if I didn’t grab onto a handrail.

I moved slowly along the aisle until I stood before her. Then she shifted her head, her eyes tracing the silhouette of my body until they reached my eyes. The slightest briefest trace of a smile graced her lips before they parted and she drew in a deep breath. She leaned forward toward me, her jacket opening enough to display the upper curves of her breasts. There was no hint that she was wearing anything underneath. She had planned ahead for this, hadn’t she? I bent down and placed my hand under her chin, lifting her face toward mine. Our lips brushed together lightly for a moment. Then I felt her fingers curl around the back of my neck, digging into me, pulling me into a heated wet kiss.

Our tongues met and touched off an explosive reaction as we grabbed at each other. I pulled her up from the seat and crushed her body against mine. Her kisses were crazy and mad, hard biting kisses tearing at my lips. Her hot breath felt like flames that seared my cheeks. I pulled her with me as I fell back against the side of the train car. Her arms wound around my shoulders and her leg snaked up around behind me. She ground herself wildly against me. I reached for her ass, boosting her upward. I managed to pull open her jacket and found her breasts bare and her nipples already hard and puckered. I suckled them hungrily, drawing the rosy tips into my mouth, sucking them past my teeth while my tongue circled them endlessly. Deep gasps shuddered from her mouth as I voraciously nibbled on her sensitive nipples. She wrapped her other leg up around my hips bringing her mons to rub against my stiffening cock.

Her fingers clawed at my shoulders and chest, scratching and digging into my flesh. Again our lips met in an incredibly incendiary kiss, full of hot lips and lashing tongues and heated breath. I turned and put her back against the wall, her hand fumbled at my trousers freeing my fully rigid cock, which sprang eagerly upward. She pulled at her skirt, raising it up to reveal her bare pussy. Oh, she had been thinking of this, planning this too! I grabbed at her ass, boosting her up as she guided my cock toward her waiting pussy. I could feel the hot and wet swollen folds of her sex stretch and envelope my rigid cock. She settled her body down around me and held still for a moment as a heavy shudder swept through her. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders and she moaned loudly. Then I began to rock my hips, slowly at first easing my cock almost all the way out then all the way back inside her deeply, again and again and again until we were banging furiously against the walls of the train car, and nothing else in this world could possibly exist except this moment with this woman on this empty train car heading north.

 

[chanaud]

I was a woman possessed…

Possessed with utter lust and need for this stranger. I felt rather than saw him enter the car. My heart leapt to my throat, paralyzing my voice box. My body was instantly on fire. He stood over me, radiating with heat, and I knew that I had to have him, right then and there.

Instantly, we reached out and allowed our lust to take over. We were hungry animals, clawing for the raw flesh so hidden beneath our layers of clothing. Without any chance of foreplay or preparation, we were united as one. And we didn’t just stop there. We tore at each other, our bodies were at war. Angry grunts followed by loud gasps flew out of our lips upon instant penetration. I felt him slow. But I couldn’t have that. I wanted him and I wanted him hard.

With the encouragement of my gyrated hips, our intensity grew. Soon he had me against the glass, with the flashing city as the backdrop, and fucking me furiously. My legs, so lean and strong gripped his hips like a vise, accepted his brutal assaults and encouraged him with a grind of my hips. Never before had my body felt so torn or beaten, and yet, I wanted more. I had to have more! My head was spinning. I couldn’t think, I just acted, my hands gripped his ass and dug my nails in deep. My inner walls tightened and gripped his cock, locking him deep inside, and so there was no escape.

“Yessssss!!! Fuck me, fuck….ME!”

I growled out between my teeth. He rammed his cock deeper, his thrusts shorter. His ass tightened as he plowed deep into my canal. He leaned in and kissed me, his lips crushing mine. The tip of his cock widened, preparing me…

“Oh yesssss…”

I moaned in his throat. I hadn’t lived before. I had no past. It was all happening right here, right now. With all the intensity from deep inside, and with all the emotions I’ve ever felt, I screamed out..

“Yesssssssssssss!!!!!!!”

Our bodies crashed and exploded. His hot seed spurted deep within my womb. Ripples and ripples coursed though us; my own explosion coated his cock, and leaked out, dripping down our inner thighs.

The train came to a screaming halt. It was his stop. He pulled up his pants, and kissed me one last time, before walking off into the night.

 

[Miltone]

I stumbled from the train; my body was vibrating like a snapping electric line brought down during a storm; my lips were still tingling from the taste of her lips. I hadn’t expected a thing to happen; I had thought that likely she wouldn’t even be on the train after what had occurred the night before; I had presumed that she would be frightened away. And what really had just happened? I knew from the nerve endings of my body what had transpired. But was it really what it seemed? Was it really so hot and fiery and wild and incredible? I paused and looked after the train, now little more than a dull red light quickly disappearing into the evening light.

I didn’t need to know her name, I didn’t want to know her name, I simply wanted her … as much as she wanted me, this nameless woman of such wanton desire, such heated craving and yearning! I wondered for a moment just who she was and where she worked and where she lived and who she was married to, and then I pushed those thoughts aside. This was something different than I had ever known, something raw and spontaneous, the complete opposite of my life. And I knew that I needed this.

I drove home in a daze, my thoughts fueled by the intense sensations still shooting through my body. I had never given more than a stray thought or two to being with another woman since I had married Cynthia, despite how sadly our relationship had deteriorated in the past few years. I had preferred to capture the “look” or what I imagined was the attitude and personality of some pretty woman whom I had just seen. I’d keep that impression with me for those rare moments when we might attempt to have sex, or for those times when I was alone and able to let my imagination run wild. Surely this wasn’t happening to me of all people, having sex with a complete stranger. I had simply fallen asleep on the ride home and dreamed this all up like some fanciful sexy concoction. But the crusty stain on my trousers and the dull throb of satisfaction emanating from my cock and balls assured me otherwise.

Something had happened, I was sure of that, but what exactly? My mind felt a need to comprehend and understand even if my heart and body could care less. Then I was home and the safe familiar sights and smells greeted me and comforted my conscience enough so that I could settle down into sleep. I awoke the next morning in the same position I had fallen asleep, yet I felt well rested and strangely satisfied. The day went well though I thought over many times what I should do the coming evening. Should I approach her? Should I ignore her? Would she even acknowledge me? I considered leaving work early to avoid her altogether. But then I ended up having to stay late and found myself helplessly waiting uncertain and undecided for the green line train heading north from the city.

There were a couple of passengers on the lead car. The second car was empty and so was the third. As the train shuddered to a stop, I boarded quickly. Maybe I had missed her. I searched through the car and found it absolutely empty. I felt my heart crash down into my gut. That’s what I get for expecting to find her. Maybe what we had shared had satisfied her and she needed me no longer. Yeah, I was sure of that. I sat alone for the entire ride, feeling chastened and a little sad. I shook my head and laughed at myself for thinking anything at all. When I got home and slipped into bed, for some dumb reason I rolled over toward Cynthia and looped my arm around her sleeping form. There was no response and when I fumbled for her breast, she rolled away, still asleep, still protective, still prohibiting, still …

The entire next day, I gave not a single thought to the woman or the train or what had happened between us. Had anything really happened or was it just a figment of my lustful and frustrated imagination? I breezed through work wonderfully, and even stayed over to finish up a major project that had been hanging in the balance for several weeks. As luck would have it, I stayed late enough to talk to our people on the West Coast just before they were ready to leave and another successful deal was closed! I laughed out loud thinking that tomorrow would be even better once the Big Guy found out what I had hammered out on my own initiative.

It was late by the time I caught a bite to eat and loped down the stairs to the green line. There seemed to be a few extra souls about and I suddenly remembered that the Knicks had played at home and there would be a few extra passengers heading out after the game.

The whistle, the screech of brakes, the hiss of the doors opening all made for a feeling of absolute normalcy. Without thinking, I slunk onto the last car and plopped my ass unconsciously in the usual seat, propping my briefcase on the seat beside me, closing my eyes and rubbing my brow in a vain attempt to erase the creases that the pressures of the day had produced. Holding my eyes closed for several moments, feeling them refresh themselves, I felt a strange heat, like … like … like someone was staring at me. My eyes snapped open and I looked around quickly.

Straight across from me the woman was sitting, smiling at me faintly. Her eyes were heavy lidded but trained directly on me. I lowered my gaze and noted her trench coat pulled tight around her waist and her long, long legs, bare as usual sporting a sweet pair of sexy heels. Was she parting her lips and licking them for my benefit? Did she pucker them and lean forward showing off the little trace of her tongue just for me? Did she uncross her legs and shove her hands down to cup the mound between them purposefully? I realized that I was staring and grinned stupidly. I glanced around and counted the other passengers. Nah, there was nothing going to happen tonight. We were not alone on this ride. I thought of all those other times I had seen her and rode on without saying or doing a single thing. This would be one of those nights I was sure.

But when I looked back at her, I saw her hand rise up over her belly and cup her breast through her trench coat. She squeezed it firmly, hared even, her fingers closing around what must have been her nipple, pinching and pulling it. Her eyes flickered closed for a moment and I heard her gasp loudly. I looked around again, but everyone else seemed to be talking amongst themselves about the game or reading a newspaper or snoozing or were otherwise completely oblivious of the woman and me. When I looked back at her, her eyes were still on me, drawing my attention, shamelessly flirting with me.

Her hand dipped underneath the flap of her trench coat, separating the lapels enough to show off her firm cleavage. My own hand fell to my lap and coiled around the thick hard cock it found waiting for it. She grinned. Her other hand had disappeared into the shadow up between her legs. She groaned, a deep feline growl that made me respond with an animalistic snarl that surely everyone else had heard. But everyone else was in their own world tonight. No one had noticed the beautiful stranger across from me fondling her body so openly, nor did they see me rubbing my cock that had grown long and hard down the leg of my trousers.

Our eyes were set upon each other, each watching the other’s titillating movements. After her eyes closed for a moment and she gasped noticeably, she withdrew her hand from between her legs and brought it up to her mouth. Slowly and seductively she sucked each finger into her mouth, smiling, humming, her eyes sparkling with a startling glint of arousal. I felt drawn toward her … was she beckoning me to join her? Was she daring to risk every scrap of propriety to satisfy this overwhelming urge that had seized us both? I glanced around and then back at her. The rest of the train car was disappearing again. There was only this incredible woman and the consuming lust that I felt for her and I was helpless to resist.

 

[chanaud]

I knew our first night wasn’t just a fluke. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. I can see it in his face, the silent gasps from his lips, the lust filled glaze in his eyes, and his body shifting constantly to accommodate his hardening cock. The reward of his wanting me, lusting for me had turned me into what I’ve always fantasized, but never dared to be, even with my own husband –- a lust filled wanton woman.

The train emptied. I stood up and walked with a long, even stride. My coat hung loosely. The flaps of the coat fluttered backwards by my lithe, bare legs. His eyes, glowed like a cat in the night locked my own. My own arousal was already dripping down my inner thigh. I was sure he could smell me. I was sure everybody could smell me. And for once, I didn’t care.

When I reached him, my arms snaked around his head and lifted it up. My breasts hung over him, baiting him. He took a nipple in my mouth and closed his eyes and moaned. The sensations were just as incredible as that first night, and the night after. My head flew back; a guttural meow fell from my lips. He sucked greedily like a famished baby. Then he changed nipples, leaving a trail of saliva in between. His hands locked behind my back, cupping my ass. His fingers bore into my flesh, and found the sweet nectar of my arousal, invoking my desire further. My body trembled at his touch. This feeling, this burning, exquisite feeling coursing through me turned me into a hungry, starving animal. I had to taste him, have him. And I couldn’t wait a single moment.

I pulled back, twisting my nipple from his mouth. He moaned with instant regret and looked up in shock, to meet my hungry mouth. Our tongues battled ferociously, our lips bruising for power. For once, I had control and I was about to do what I so desired when I first saw him tonight. I slid down his body onto my knees. My fingers loosened his belt and…..

ZZzzziiiiiiiiiippppppppppp

Somehow, I managed to slide his pants off. Staring at me was a raging cock, blazing with lust and bobbing in the air with a glistening droplet of precum. Licking my lips, I looked up at him with large round eyes. With both my hands, I held his cock to my lips and kissed the soft mushroom tip. Upon release, my tongue swooped up the preum. I held it on my tongue to savor the taste. He was salty and delicious, the whole essence of him. Hungry for more, my face fell and engulfed his cock into my mouth. He gasped and moaned with surprise. His fingers flew to my hair while his hips rose, meeting my throat. With his cock fully buried, my cheeks shrouded him into a tight cocoon and sucked him until he was hard as a rock. All I could think about was how powerful this tool was, and how much control I had as it was trapped against my throat. Then like a pendulum swing, I sucked him hard and I sucked him furiously.

I was dripping uncontrollably, leaving a puddle of on the floor. My hand reached down between my legs to spread my wetness around. Instead my finger slipped between my swollen lips and penetrated my pussy. Then I started fucking myself madly, in synch to sucking my zipless stranger…….

 

[Miltone]

My head flew back from the intense sensation that I felt rippling through my body. I closed my eyes and surrendered to the marvelous feelings of the moment. I had never felt so hard, so on fire, so highly charged and sexual. I felt her lips stretch around my shaft, her cheeks collapse against me, and her tongue waggling back and forth as she took me deeper and deeper into her mouth. And her hand, long slim fingers coiling around the base of my cock, nails digging into the dense patch of my pubic hair, gripping me, holding on to me as she drew me up long and thick with her mouth.

Then I looked back down at her and my body shivered deliciously at the sight. My trousers and boxers were pooling around my ankles. She was kneeling between my legs, her head bobbing up and down slowly, sucking me so thoroughly, glazing over my stiff prick with her saliva. Her other hand was between her legs, stroking her pussy at the same slow hard pace.

Her coat was parted, revealing her naked breasts, suspended just within my reach, the rosy tips puckered and pointy and inviting. I reached down and took them into my hands, her skin was soft and smooth, the flesh underneath was firm, and her nipples felt hot and hard. I played with them, touching them at first then boldly pinching them and twisting them. She began to moan louder as I touched her; she raised her head and took in a heated rush of breath, her tongue slathering all over my tall hard cock, swirling around the head, flicking at the underside, licking it all up and down. She held me upright in her hand and then kissed and licked my balls, finally sucking them into her hot wet mouth. I growled and grunted from the sublime pleasure I felt.

She didn’t look up at me the way women do as if to make sure they were doing it right. She knew … she knew from the way my hips were rocking, the way my body responded to her, the way I moaned and groaned and growled. Then her mouth descended on my cock again, engulfing me fully, the head pushing deep into her throat. Then she began sucking me harder and faster, just the first few inches while her hand stroked the base firmly. I cupped and squeezed her breasts and felt her body grow hot and moist. I wanted to reach down and lift her up onto my lap; I wanted to feel my cock thrust up into her hot wet pussy again.

But then the intense feel of her mouth moving up and down on my cock was quickly pushing me over the edge. I felt her body quiver and tremble beneath my touch. She let my cock fall from her mouth for a few moments as her body shivered with a violent quaking orgasm. She cried out like a wild animal. Then she took a deep breath and attacked my hot thick cock with a vengeance. She raised her sopping wet hand up and cradled my balls, holding them and squeezing them gently; her other hand stroked my shaft while she sucked me hard and fast. I couldn’t think; I could only respond. I felt my cum surge up and explode into her mouth. She moaned appreciatively at the feel of it and sucked me dry, swallowing each hot spurt.

I let go of her and slumped back in the seat, my body trembling and tingling as she licked my sticky cock clean. I had felt a complement rise to my mouth when she suddenly rose up from between my legs. With her coat still parted, she leaned forward and kissed me on the lips, a hot wet spunky kiss that made me shiver. Then as the train began to screech to a stop, she stood up and cinched her coat snuggly, walked to the open door and was gone. I sat for a moment, my slackening cock lying limply in my lap, before I pulled my pants up and waited for my stop.

I didn’t think; I didn’t mull over what had happened; I didn’t ask myself any questions. I only responded. I drove home and kissed my sleeping kids goodnight and slipped into bed. I glanced over at Cynthia, who was snoring contentedly. I had to stifle a chuckle when I recalled her most recent lackluster attempts at oral sex. Then I felt my cock twitch as I remembered what had happened on the train. Something had happened there, hadn’t it?

* * * * * *

The following morning was rife with meetings but was nicely capped off with a luncheon meeting with our biggest, most important clients. Nothing would do but the boss wanted to meet them at Fifty Seven Fifty Seven. Expensive but good food in a great dining room with a high coffered ceiling and bronze chandeliers. The others were mulling over the menu of jerk chicken, sautéed red snapper, and grilled aged sirloin steak (I had my appetite set on the sirloin) when another party was brought in and seated at a table along the wall adjacent to us. A couple of older balding businessmen led the way, followed by a paunchy middle-aged man, a young turk hot shot, a sweet young thing, and … and … and her!

Unsuspecting, she sat with her back against the wall and looked at her companions as they opened their menus. Her eyes were sparkling, her smile was gorgeous, and she seemed unaware that I found her absolutely captivating. She said something to the hot shot and then laughed. It was a great laugh that carried over to our table. I realized that I was staring and looked back toward my own party. Then, just as our waiter arrived to take our orders I felt a sort of warmth on my cheek and glanced over toward her table. She was looking directly at me with the most alluring smile on her face. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips parted. The little pink tip of her tongue flashed a quick circle around her lips.

Again I looked down shyly, but when I looked back up, she shifted in her seat slightly, uncrossing her long bare legs. Her skirt was pulled high revealing a lot of shapely thigh and a dark tunnel between her legs. She rested her elbows on the table and looked at one of her companions, listening intently. Her hand slipped from the table to her lap, then maneuvered down her thigh. She tugged at her skirt, lifting it just enough to show off the dark triangle of her panties. She said something to the cute young girl next to her and they both laughed, but all the while she was running her finger up and down the front panel of her panties.

I felt a twinge of excitement flash through me watching her touch herself so openly. I looked around, but from the way the tables were positioned, I could tell that I was the only one with this particular view. And she knew it! Without looking my way she knew I was watching her. Suddenly someone at my table said something to me and I turned back and had to ask them to repeat. After a brief spate of mind-numbing business conversation, I looked back toward her only to see that her seat was empty. Then I noticed that she was coming toward me, walking right past our table on the way to the rest room.

My eyes absorbed every nuance of her walk as she passed by, the swish of her long legs, the sway of her hips, the pert jiggle of her breasts, and—oh, yes—the sparkle of her grin as she glanced down at me for the briefest moment, a moment that captured me absolutely. I felt the snap of an electric sexual charge flash from her heavy lidded coffee colored eyes into my helpless baby blues. And then she was gone and I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in through my nose. Did I actually growl as I caught the scent of her perfume and her ripe sex? My eyes snapped open and I looked around the table. No one seemed to notice my obvious distraction.

“Excuse me,” I said with a curt smile and stood up. I tossed my napkin onto my chair and tilted my head toward the restroom. The boss nodded and carried on with his conversation as I followed the luscious scent toward the restrooms. Just as I reached the hallway, I saw her moving toward the door of the ladies room. She lingered for a moment in the open doorway, the light from the room showing on her face, looked back at me, and then she slipped inside. Quickly I looked around and then followed her.

 

[chanaud]

I knew he would catch my scent! Of course how could he not? Any ripe American male with just an ounce of testosterone could smell me. It was fun and incredibly erotic teasing and taunting him across the restaurant -- spreading my legs for him, walking near his table, making sure I pause briefly and mentally releasing a bit of my wetness, so he can smell my arousal -- while beckoning him to follow me. And he did! Without a moment’s hesitation, he excused himself and followed me without missing a step all the way to the ladies room, and slipped in without even bothering to look around.

Once inside, he surprised me by grabbing the ends of my jacket and twirling me around until I was in his arms. My arms flew around his neck as our lips collided into a passionate kiss. The ravenous desire for him returned instantly. A deep guttural moan escaped my throat; my body was on fire as it pressed hard against him. He was already hard, throbbing against me. His hands reached under my skirt and drifted its way up my thighs. I moaned at his feverish touch. His hands didn’t stop there. They hooked onto the edge of my pantyhose and yanked it down, ripping it along the way. Once free, I was able to do what I’ve wanted to do since setting eyes on him. Lifting my skirt, I leaned back against the cold tile bathroom walls and thrust out my hips. My fingers found its way between my legs and slid into the warm slick wetness.

Mesmerized, he watched with glowing eyes. I knew he wanted so desperately to touch me, but was too busy watching the show. My hips were rocking in tune to my fingers. I was completely displayed before him, allowing him to see each detail, every movement under the powerful halogen lights. Each time my fingers plunged inside; a small gasp escaped my lips. My eyes never left him. This was a one man show. And my pussy was totally exposed for his eyes only. He watched with intensity. His tongue followed the hard trail of his lips, desiring a taste.

Then something caused him to react. Perhaps he had heard something outside the bathroom? He grabbed me into a stall and slammed the door shut. Then without any warning or preparation, his cock slammed into me, lifting my feet off the floor.

“Oh yessssss…” I hissed out.

A door opened. Feminine voices, followed by giggles.

In…Out… OH fuck, how am I to keep quiet?

Quick steps. Doors from both sides of us slammed instantaneously.

In….Out…In ….Out

Can they smell us? Hear us? Feel our lust?

In…Out…Oh fuck!!

His mouth descended upon mine…then down my neck…my breasts…

Clothes rustling. Tinkling. Voices on both sides. They were talking to each other!

My body was screaming. I wanted to scream out. Don’t stop! Harder!

In…Out…In…Out

My zipless fuck was a wild man! His cock was bruising my pussy, his hips cutting into me….Room was spinning. I was being slammed against the door.

Toilets flushing. Steps… Water…

Oh fuck, I can’t hold back!

Ohhhhhhhh…fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

A hand clasped over my mouth. I bit down on it. Blood.

Yesssssssssssss!!!! Fuck me hard…harder…harder! My walls, so wet….so slippery…tightening…squeezing…

Giggles. How is my hair, somebody asked.

Yessssssssssss!!!!!

His cock was so large, so deep…plunging in deeper…harder. I knew he was ready. I was ready.

Oh god, Yessssssss!!!!

Fireworks exploded…our bodies rocked…riding out the waves..

Steps. Door opened…then closed behind trailing voices.

Sweaty and spent, he fell on top of me. When his cock slipped out, I gave him a passionate kiss and adjusted my clothes.

Wordlessly, I followed the girls out into the restaurant.

 

[Miltone]

Slumped on the toilet seat … spent … panting … incredibly out of breath … my heated body sweating … every one of my senses overloaded from the intense pleasure rippling through my body. My cum-slickened cock lay in my lap, still throbbing and reluctant to surrender any of its hardness. And I loved it … I had never felt more vital and alive, a feeling so completely different from any other relationship that I had ever had, and maybe because this wasn’t a relationship at all.

There was nothing I wanted from this woman; I didn’t need to know her name or where she came from; I didn’t want a tonight or a tomorrow and gave no forethought to a next time. This seemed to be an unnamed passionate response, some kind of random lust that had seized us, a pair of complete strangers. Each time we had come together, the surroundings had faded away, there were no bystanders, no spouses, no past history, no future plans, no power games; there was no guilt, no remorse, no taking or giving, no one trying to get anything or prove anything. We simply came together, and what we did and what we felt simply … was.

As I collected myself and began to arrange my clothes, another pair of women entered the restroom. Their chatter continued as they sat on either side of me. I tried not to chuckle out loud as they discussed the various observed and unseen virtues of Ramon, their waiter. He was a tall strikingly handsome Italian man who was serving their table and also hers.

“He is so dreamy,” said the one on my left. “I can only imagine what kind of lover he is.”

“Mmm, yes,” said the one on the right. Then she giggled. “Maybe you should ask that girl at the table next to us.”

“Really? Why?” asked Miss Left.

“Well, didn’t you notice that they disappeared about the same time,” remarked Miss Right. “And didn’t you see the way she looked when she came back from the restroom and he just so happened to return to their table at the same time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t you see the rosy glow on her face?” answered Miss Right. “Or notice the unmistakable smell of sex when she walked past? I think they probably did it right in here, can’t you tell?” I could hear her sniffing the air.

“I think you have an overactive imagination, honey!” laughed Miss Left. “In the ladies room at Fifty Seven Fifty Seven during a busy lunch hour? Oh, get out! Who could possibly be that brave … or foolish?”

“Or horny?”

They both tittered loudly and finished. I waited until they had tended to their makeup and left before I made my move to return to my table. A man approaching the restroom hall gave me a suspicious look when he heard the ladies’ room door swing shut behind me. I just grinned and looked past him as I strode by. Our lunch had been brought to the table by the time I returned.

“We were about to send out a search party,” laughed the Big Guy.

“Hell, we thought you might have gotten waylaid or something,” said the client’s number two with a similar chuckle.

“Had to make room, guys!” I said, brushing off their comments and taking up my fork and knife. “And now I’m starved!”

“Hell, the way you’re digging into that steak, somebody might think you just got laid,” said the Big Guy. “Not just waylaid!”

The table erupted in laughter that was soon replaced by the clatter of utensils upon china. The aged sirloin I had ordered was grilled to medium rare perfection and I ate hungrily. Throughout the rest of our luncheon I couldn’t hardly take my eyes off her. Sure, she was conversing with her associates and dining so perfectly daintily, and I was holding up my end of a boring business discussion ably enough, but her eyes often found mine and Miss Right was correct, there was a rosy flush to her complexion that had nothing to do with her makeup. The way she sat, the way she held her fork, the way she smiled and laughed, the way her body moved as she ate, the way she crossed and uncrossed her legs were all captivating. At one point in a lapse of conversation at her table and mine, I was aware that we were exchanging a long glance, a lingering look that penetrated past our eyes and went straight to the soul. I could feel a warm sensation stirring inside, and not just from the wonderful meal I had just finished.

Suddenly I was aware that the Big Guy had signed the check and the others were getting up to leave and return to our offices. I glanced once more in her direction and grabbed a cocktail napkin and scribbled something on the inside. As we proceeded toward the door, I made sure to pass by her table and paused. I stooped beside her and acted as though I were picking something up from the floor. I caught the unmistakable scent of her sex as I stooped beside her. Maybe she heard the growl that rumbled in my throat.

“Excuse me,” I said looking into her lush emerald-colored eyes. “But I believe that you dropped this.” There was a trace of a question in her look as I pressed the napkin into her hand. Her lips were parted and looked full and inviting, but I had to resist.

“Thank you,” she said in a low husky voice as I smiled, nodded, and stepped away. I could feel the warmth of her gaze on my back as I left the restaurant. The words I had written on the napkin kept running through my mind all the way back to the office and my body throbbed with a vibrating tingle …

Tomorrow ~ The Blue Window @ MoMA ~ 2 PM

 

[chanaud]

Surprisingly my guests never missed me. My supportive staff covered for me, and it was a great success. The clients were overwhelmed by my support staff, and knew they were in good hands -- with or without me. Walking out, I was hit with a mix of emotions. The interlude was a definite surprise, and even more pleasurable than the train rides. But I had risked so much. What if somebody caught on? Or my long term clients had found my absence inexcusable? I was risking too much by meeting him in public. I knew it, but I was a woman possessed. I had managed to escape this one time. The fates won’t be so tolerable next time. A person doesn’t get lucky that many times.

The note was crumbled softly in my hands. I opened it and read it and pondered the cryptic message. It didn’t mean anything to me. Blue Room at Moma’s? It’s probably an obscure Italian restaurant. A colleague asked a pertinent question, calling for my immediate attention. I stuffed the note deep down in my purse and willed the message away as I returned to the business at hand. That afternoon was a whirlwind. I kept my staff close to me and demanded their constant company. I even surprised my staff by throwing some careful attention to some small accounts. Everything was on purpose, of course, to shield me from those wandering lustful thoughts. And when my assistant walked in at six to announce her departure, I told her I will walk out with her. I will even surprise my Peter with his favorite meal from Fred’s – curry lamb and a bottle of Chardonnay. We’ll sit by the fireplace and talk, really talk like old times.

Peter looked up surprised when I walked in his home office.

“You’re home early.” He stated.

“Yes. I’ve missed you.” I answered, watching the surprise in his eyes. “I realized it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, and well, I suppose I’ve just missed you…and being at home.”

He was at a lost for words. How does one turn on such emotions, especially caught by surprise? He nodded cautiously, careful not to say anything.

“I picked up our favorite. I’ll just warm it and change into something more comfortable.” I said with a smile. “Can you keep an eye on it for me? I really want to wash away the grime of the city.”

Peter jumped up. Whatever skepticism he was feeling, it was immediately set aside for his favorite curry dish.

As I bounded up the stairs, the phone rang. A few seconds later, Peter yelled up the stairway. “Honey, it’s your mother. She wants the number to the caterer you had recommended.”

“It’s in my purse, which is on the counter. Can you find it for me and give it to her?”

“Sure.”

The shower was invigorating. It also brought back the memories of my zipless fuck. Everywhere I scrubbed, touched was raw. He had been at so many places, so intimate with my body. I found myself getting aroused again. Wanting him so much my body ached of want, need. But I had I knew I had taken too long. Peter would be bounding up the stairs soon to announce dinner. So, I hurried out of the shower and quickly dried off. Slipping a soft robe around me, I brushed my hair back and ran downstairs.

Peter was still stirring the curry. He had set two wine glasses out and had already started sipping on his. When I entered the room, he looked up at me with the most peculiar look.

“Just in time.” He announced.

Plopping down on the barstool in the kitchen isle, I accepted the poured wine glass. The kitchen smelled of heavenly spices. Peter looked relax and even accepted his role by putting Tchaziovsky in the stereo.

We need to do this more often, I thought as the first sip of Chardonnay streamed down my throat, relaxing my every nerve. As I set my wine glass down, a white piece of paper caught my eye. Unfolding it, my heart fell as I recognized the cryptic note.

Did Peter read this? Of course, he had. That’s why it’s laying out.

Catching my eye, Peter asked. “When are you going to the Met?”

“The Met?” I looked up startled.

“Yes. The Blue Window is Matisse’s famous painting. It’s being shown right now at the Moma.”

“Moma?”

“Museum of Modern Art.”

“Oh. Right. Yes. Actually, I’m not.”

Peter looked puzzled. It was incredibly warm in the house. He was starting to look foggy.

“It’s Sarah’s. She’s a new member of my team. She’s met somebody new, and was showing me the note and must have left it on my desk. I suppose I should return it to her.” I answered as I stuffed the note back into my purse. Oh please, let him believe me.

“The Blue Window,” he replied with a chuckle. "I wonder if she knows what is on his mind.."

"What do you mean?"

"Well the painting is full of phallic shapes, of all sizes..."

I let my thoughts drift away as Peter continued on the historic symbolism of the painting. The Blue Window at the Museum of Modern Art. Two o’clock. My heart raced, my blood boiled by just thinking about the possibilities. I knew that once I knew what the note meant, I would be going. I was a doomed woman.

At one o’clock the next day, I excused myself for the whole day. The city was bustling with the afternoon traffic, but I felt alone. All alone. The destination before me was the only focus in my thoughts. My mind was steps ahead of my body, racing to him. I made a mental note to slow down and think this through. We must stop this. This is wrong. Maybe I’ll be strong enough to reject him. Maybe not. Oh hell, I thought. Just enjoy this one time and this will be the last, I decided as my heels bounded up the long ceramic steps. It didn’t take long to find Matisse’s famous Blue Room. The room was empty but just a security guard. Staring into the painting, I wondered. Why this particular painting? What does it signify? Am I the lonely lady hiding behind the potted plant, shrouded by my sadness? Am I that transparent?

“What do you see?” A whisper filtered into my ear, emitting a tiny gasp from my lips.

Without turning around, I knew it was him….

 

[Miltone]

It had been an impulse, a random burst of thought that turned just as quickly into an irretrievable action. Would she even know what The Blue Window was? Surely the proud way she carried herself, the classy and elegant way she dressed, the sensuous way she moved and spoke—though we had hardly spoken—all told me of the kind of sleek breeding that would promote an appreciation of the arts. She was a cosmopolitan New Yorker after all, she would surely know that Matisse’s The Blue Window would be on display in its usual comfortable gallery. But what if she didn’t? What if she didn’t have a clue or a fricking care? Yet as I found my way through the last of my workday, the feeling grew inside that she would be there, tomorrow at 2 PM.

Then on the train home—she wasn’t on it, a mild disappointment despite the insistent tingle in my veins from our encounter this afternoon—I kept seeing her, a vision of her in a cream colored suit, a white silk blouse, and her long slender and shapely legs tucked into a stylish pair of heeled sandals. Specific? Yes, but my daydreams usually are. And I wouldn’t see her eyes, her back to me, her scented hair thrilling my nostrils, her warm curves pressed back against me, the sound of her voice, husky and full of a sensual lust that teased and caressed my ears … but the lurch of the train car slowing at my station yanked me from this reverie and suddenly the events of the day and my dreamy trance faded and the reality of the cool evening breeze pulled me home.

“You’re home early,” Cynthia said in her nasal suburban housewife accent. She shuffled back and forth between the sink and the stove in her shapeless baggy sweats.

“I do live here, remember?” I replied drolly, but with minimal response from her.

“Jimmy has a soccer game tonight,” she said. “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to take him. It would really help me out a ton.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” I replied absentmindedly. “If I have to.”

“Right! Isn’t that just like you?” she laughed. “I suppose … if I gotta … if it’s not going too far out of my way … it’s always something with you, isn’t it?”

I knew that tone of voice. I had heard it all too many times and knew that I would take my boy to the game if for no other reason than to not have to hear the sound of that shrill complaining voice for at least an hour or two. So I took Jimmy to his game, mingled with the other parents and cheered loudly. Afterwards we met a few of his teammates and their parents at the Tastee Freeze for ice cream. Some of the parents seemed surprised to see me and I had to admit that I hadn’t been that involved with this kind of thing for a while with my heavy work schedule.

“So what you been up to?” asked Chris Phillips as we stood to the side lapping at the oversized heaps of custard filling our cones. He was one of the few dads that I actually knew personally.

“Busy as hell, Chris,” I replied. “Business has been great but I’ve been working late nearly every night of the week.”

“Not what I meant,” he remarked. “You look great … been working out or something?”

“Not more than usual,” I said, looking down at myself.

“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up!” he laughed as he patted his own ample beer gut.

Afterwards, we went home and I got Jimmy in and out of the shower and packed off to bed after a round of Sonic Adventures on his Gamecube. Cynthia was already in bed watching one of her favorite HGTV shows or the “Chick” Channel, so I slumped onto the sofa in the family room. It had been a slow sports night and the local Fox Sports Net worked like a sedative. I didn’t bother going up to bed until after waking up around 2 AM with a nasty crick in my neck and a deep longing for Her, a sensation echoed by the long stiff aching cock that strained against my shorts.

As I undressed in the bathroom, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. What was it that Chris had seen? I saw the same trim build, the same broad shoulders and narrow waist. I stood sideways and noticed that if anything my ass was maybe just the least bit plumper. But my chest did seem to be more sculpted, my abs better defined with no trace of a gut. Sure my cock seemed to be a little thicker and longer and just the thought of where it had been that afternoon at lunch made it throb and grow. Then I leant down onto the sink and examined my face in the mirror. There was something in my eyes, a wry sparkle, a glint of something, and there was a definite smirking curl to my smile … maybe that was what Chris had seen. My entire body felt the tingling throb that reverberated from my cock.

My fingers curled around my pulsing organ as I thought of her … my mind relived the high moments of great passion we had experienced that afternoon. Did she think of me like this? Was she perhaps at home right at this very moment, maybe in her bed, maybe even lying beside her husband and touching herself, remembering how crazily impulsive we had been? I thought of her fingers exploring beneath her night clothes, pulling the silken hem of her gown up past her hips, her fingers touching, caressing, exploring, probing deep then deeper, her gasps of pleasure muffled by her pillow …

Later, as I slipped between the sheets of my bed beside the deeply sleeping form of Cynthia, my mind focused on Matisse’s The Blue Window hoping that it would lull me to sleep. Yet I could feel her passion with me, inside me, captivating me. My dreams were strange and fanciful, but by mid-morning I couldn’t remember a single one. My impulsive afternoon appointment came to dominate all my thoughts. By one thirty I had made arrangements to leave the office for the rest of the day.

Working on an impulse that was driven by a mindless passion, I made my way slowly and deliberately through the lightly crowded early afternoon sidewalks. Climbing the granite steps and entering the cool civilized ambience of the uncrowded Museum, I felt my hot-blooded pulse racing. I slowed as I neared the gallery. Would she be here? Would she have found her way to this very place, or would she have lost her nerve? I paused and drew in a long deep breath, closing my eyes and wishing my excitement not to show. She was here, I could tell, I could feel her presence, I knew. I checked my watch and saw that I was right on time, 2 PM on the mark.

I stepped lightly into the gallery and saw her dressed in a light weight and quite elegant skirted suit woven perhaps with a silk blend. Every fold of the luscious beige fabric caressed her curves from her trim shoulders down past the sweet curves of her ass. Her head was cocked to the side as she examined The Blue Window. Her right arm was crossed over her chest, her right hand providing a prop for her left arm that reached up to rest her hand against her cheek. Her shapely bare legs were posed very ladylike yet with a subtle sexuality. Her right foot rocked up and down lightly on the heel of her sandal. Silently I moved up behind her until I was standing so close that I could feel the heat of her body in front of me.

“What do you see?” I said in a soft whisper, leaning forward so that my lips were a breath away from her ear. She gasped and shivered just the least. Her arms fell to her sides, yet she didn’t turn to look back at me.

“Ermm … the vase of flowers, the lamp, the hills, the trees, the moon … the phallic shapes … it’s very evocative,” she said, her head straightening up so that the tips of her well-coiffed close-cropped brunette hair brushed against my cheek. Her voice was low and husky, thick and constrained. “Like looking through a window at midnight, capturing the moment.”

“Very nice assessment,” I replied, again speaking barely more than a whisper. I lifted my hands to the sides of her arms and touched her, my fingers curling around her shoulders and then gliding down along her arms. The security guard by the doorway cleared his voice and shuffled his feet as he moved into the next gallery leaving us alone for the moment. “There is a very sensual movement in this painting, the phallic shapes, the round womanly shapes, the shades of blue found usually at midnight.”

I felt her body sway back toward me as my hands trailed up and down her arms. She made a soft sound, part hum, part sigh, like a gentle purring. As she fell back against me, my hands moved from her arms to her breasts, finding them nicely sculpted by the cut of her suit and daintly little bra that supported them. The sharp points of her nipples pressed into my palms as I cupped them gently. She exhaled and leaned back against me, wedging my throbbing cock against the firm cheeks of her ass. Nuzzling my cheek against her neck I drank in the scent of her perfume and then kissed her where her neck flowed into her shoulder. When my hands cupped her breasts more firmly and my fingers circled the hard nubs of her nipples, she purred again.

“Not here,” she whispered in a throaty hoarse voice. “Not yet …”

Yet her body pushed back against me, insistent in its firm pressure. She picked up her right hand and raked her long slender fingers back through my hair, gripping my head, holding me against her. When I went to pull it away from her breast, she placed her other hand on top of mine and held it there tightly. Her body was quivering with an intense arousal. I could have taken her right then and there but the sound of the security guard’s footsteps approached and our hands fell down and away, and we smoothed over our clothing, making ourselves at least a bit presentable.

Without another comment we wandered leisurely past the other paintings on exhibit, Cezanne’s Milk Can With Apples, Picasso’s Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, Henri Rousseau’s The Sleeping Gypsy, and Van Gogh’s Portrait of Joseph Roulin. We would pause for a few minutes to examine each painting and exchange a word or two. Our shoulders would brush or bump together occasionally bringing a sly sideways flirtatious glance from each. Finally she paused before Richeleau’s Evening Dancers and sighed.

“I love this,” she said, her voice still so dense and full of sensual desire. “It seems so … so … so sexy!”

I found myself admiring the way the bodies of the dancers were shaded or revealed by the streaks of light as they danced naked around a leaping bonfire. There was a deep sense of energy and life and feeling in the painting. I looked back to her and saw her dampening her parted lips with her tongue. She looked at me with her emerald-colored eyes glistening, a look of deep-rooted lust and riveting desire. She reached her hand up to my neck and pulled my mouth to hers for a kiss. It was not a kiss of thought or love or promise; it was a wet kiss full of interlocking lips and impetuous tongue and heated breathing. Clutching at each other, our bodies pressed forward, my knee thrusting between her legs, my aroused cock pressing itself against her belly, her firm breasts mashing against my chest.

When our exhausted breath finally forced us to break off our kiss, I glanced around the gallery. There were voices in the adjacent galleries and the sound of the ever-present security guard’s footsteps lurking in the background. I took her hand in mine and quickly pulled her toward the front door. I felt her hand grip mine tightly, her fingers firmly clamped around my palm. The sound of her footsteps clattered loudly behind me. When I thought I heard her giggle, I glanced back to see her face flushed with arousal and grinning sexily.

We flew through the galleries, then out and down the steps. I didn’t know where I was leading her; my mind was so clouded with lust and desire. Then I saw it. Right across the street elegantly stood The Stanhope, its polished brass doors calling to me. I glanced at her for a moment and saw her eyes examining my face intently. I squeezed her hand and then crossed to the hotel. I knew it was expensive since my cousin had held her wedding rehearsal dinner there, but I didn’t care. I held onto her hand while we checked in, feeling just a bit of blush warm my cheeks when admitting that we had no luggage. The staff was gracious and helpful and we were delivered to our room promptly.

I held the door open for her to enter and she strode in quickly and confidently, observing the fine details of the room. She walked to the windows and glanced out at the view of Central Park. She nodded and smiled as I approached. The room must have met her approval. She reached out and grasped my lapels and pulled me to her. We kissed sharply, her mouth consuming mine ravenously, kissing, licking and biting at my lips.

My hands fumbled at the buttons of her suit jacket, eventually freeing them so that I could part the luxurious silk folds. I felt my lungs gasp at the spectacular sight of her breasts surging up from a tiny white silk bra, the tips urgently protruding through the sheer material. I deftly pulled the cups away and touched her tender sensitive flesh, caressing her firmly. She groaned into my mouth as my touch great strong and insistent.

Her fingers found my zipper and tugged it down quickly, then reached inside and encircled my rigid cock. Pulling it free, she stroked it with both hands, making me flinch and wince with pleasure. A deep animal growl emanated from my throat as we began to undress each other feverishly. Her suit jacket and skirt quickly joined my jacket and trousers on the floor. Her bra and panties soon mingled with my silk boxers nearby. Pulling the plush covers back, we fell onto the soft sheets, our bodies hot to the touch with an urgent consuming passion. Our arms and legs became intertwined as our lips melted together and my cock sought out the warmth and dampness of her pussy. Rolling me onto my back, she straddled me and rose up, taking hold of my throbbing member and guiding it toward her center.

“Yessssssss!” she hissed with delight as I entered her. “Oh, gawd, yessssssssss!”