Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, NonConsensual, BiSexual, Cheating, MaleDom, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Slow,
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Sometimes, it just happens. A young inexperienced woman in the wrong place at the wrong time, influenced by a self induced aphrodisiac of power.
I'm not too sure when it all began, this thing with me and people who have power. Or at least those that I perceive have power. It's not like I'm a little "groupie" or anything, but somehow I seem to hold them in such esteem that it's a little beyond reason.
Maybe it's because I was such a late baby. I have three sisters and the next youngest is seven years older than me. Even though I was pampered a bit, they were always telling me, "Be sure and do exactly what Mom and Dad tell you and it will keep you out of trouble." I assumed later that the three of them stayed in hot water with our folks and they were just trying to give me some good advice.
Bottom line was that I never dared go against anything they said, even through high school. They were more like gods to me than parents. And that's why I wasn't exactly the most popular girl in school. I was neither promiscuous nor adventurous and I'm sure that was taken by others to be dull.
And it certainly didn't stop with my parents. Teachers, policemen, my principals, whoever. One day I was just singing to myself while I was helping out with a church project. One of the elders happened to walk by and said, "You really sing well, Shelly. You ought to be in the choir." To most this would be just a friendly encouraging comment. To me it was a directive and the next Sunday there I was, up front and singing away in the group.
I guess I should tell you who I am. My name is Shelly; I'm twenty-seven years old and married to my first love, Don. For all practical purposes, I have worked at one place all my life. I started out as a clerk at a pretty good size industrial plant here in southern Oklahoma and now I am in purchasing.
If I had to describe myself in one word it would be... curves. Not fat, because I'm five six and weigh a hundred and thirty. It's just that all my features are round. There isn't an angular part of my body. My hips are nice but come off my waist in a nice little round fashion.
My breasts are too large for my liking and are like half a grapefruit. Not pears like the lucky girls, but nice half spheres. Of course Don likes them and prefers that I wear miniscule bras a size too small, pushing them up and over the top like they are trying to escape. I don't think I own one bra that my nipples aren't trying to peek over the top.
My butt cheeks are two perfect round balls. Don says I'm "an ass man's dream." My face is really nice but a little too round with a nose that fits perfectly in with the rest of it. I keep my blonde hair in a shaggy cut to cover some of it but it's still... round.
I never was good at sports so I never had a chance to get that chiseled look the other girls had and I so wanted. And I was way too much a prude to be popular enough to be elected cheerleader, so that left me in the band.
But there was hope. When I was a sophomore I realized I might be able to make my mark as a majorette. I practiced and practiced on my tryout routine. As always, the judges were three band directors from neighboring schools, all men. When I performed my routine for my band director two weeks prior to the competition he gave me some polite applause and then some advice.
"Shelly, you've got your timing and steps down and I like your music. What you need is to vastly improve your body language. Remember who you will be performing for, both in these tryouts and again if you are selected." I was smart enough not to let his comments go any further than the two of us and I practiced my routine in private. I had never questioned him before and I wasn't then. I knew what he was saying. I needed to get sexy with my dance.
So I did. When the day came and the three of them watched my routine, which was always in private, I was thrusting my hips and boobs at them like a corner prostitute. It must have worked. One of them called me back later for a second performance to break a "tie" (in which he was the only one present) and I was selected to strut my stuff the next three years at every football game and pep rally.
Later, I wondered just exactly who it was I was suppose to be entertaining out there, prancing my body around in that skimpy outfit. Some of the stuff we did was lascivious at the very least. And now days the outfits those girls wear are no more than a thong in the back!
But, all was not lost for me. It was during one of those games that Don really noticed me. He was one of those boys with which smaller school sports programs survive. He was good at all sports but great at none. That meant he was a starter at all of them but had no chance of going to college with any.
Along with Don came a massive and significant change in my life. After I graduated from high school, my mother had a subtle conversation with me. Basically what she said was that I was no longer a child and had to make choices on my own. In effect, I quit getting directives or suggestions from them of any sort.
This may seem small but to me it was like a huge opening to rush through. I knew that I was at the point of using or losing. That is, using my body or losing my man. Don was really starting to balk at our limited sexual experiences and I didn't particularly object to going further, either. It had just been that thing with my parents. With help from my older sister who then lived in Oklahoma City, I saw a doctor and got birth control pills. It still took two months before I took the plunge.
Don had played with me before but we had definite rules that we bent but didn't break. That meant that he had his hands on me every chance we got and we spent a lot of time with my nipples in his mouth. And I'm not telling you I didn't respond to his touches because I most certainly did! I can't recall the times I went home soaking wet and let my fingers do the cleanup.
As for him, I could bring him off with my hand in the blink of an eye and did so on almost every date. Later he jokingly accused me of literally having him in the palm of my hand but I knew he loved it when it happened. He still does!
When I got myself on pills I began to think about how to bring it all about. I knew that for all practical purposes I was getting ready to give away my wedding night rituals. Not that anybody waited any more, anyway. But for some reason it still seemed important to me.
I finally decided it was to be on his birthday. Of course, he was totally unaware that anything was in the works and was getting more and more edgy on a monthly basis. It was hard for me to keep it secret and several times I almost abandoned my plans, especially when we were in his uncle's old unused house and actually on a real bed.
His uncle was gone a lot and Don had secretly made a key when he was doing some errands for him. It had become a hideaway for us, especially since it was out on a small road and we could hide his car behind the house. There was something about being on a bed instead of in a car. It felt so right, so grownup. And it made me hot as a firecracker.
I didn't leave anything to chance for the evening. Although I was wearing just an old pair of jeans and a tank top, I was also carrying a zipped up bag. When Don asked what was in it I was coy.
"You birthday present." That's all he got from me.
Like any other teenagers, though, we lost no time getting through the evening rituals of dinner with his folks and a small birthday gathering. He made a beeline for his uncle's house as soon as we could shed them all.
When I walked into the bedroom and took the bag with me he protested.
"Hey, where's my present." I really knew he was complaining about not being able to get to my boobs.
"It's coming." I still wasn't giving him anything, but I was already starting to shake.
I had bought a real simple and very inexpensive little negligee, pure white and totally transparent. I still had it in mind that this was, for all practical purposes, going to be my wedding night.
When I put it on I looked at myself in the mirror for at least the tenth time since I had bought it. Nothing had changed but my confidence. What if he didn't like it? What if he didn't like me!!
I had brought along a nice but thin bed cover, too. I wanted to make sure there were no tell-tell signs for his uncle to see.
Gingerly, carefully, I opened the door and walked out.
Don's mouth fell open and the silence was dreadful!
Finally, he tried to speak. It didn't work well for him. He was almost stuttering.
"O-o-o-o-h-h-h, m-y-y-y-y, G-o-o-d-d-d," he whispered.
I just turned and walked back into the bedroom. He approached me very slowly, almost if he were stalking me. Maybe he thought it wasn't for real.
He lifted my top off slowly, snaking his hands down the sides of my body, slipping his fingers beneath the fabric.
"Your skin is so soft," he murmured against my throat.
He lifted the cloth up to the bottom of my breasts and kissed them tenderly. I sighed heavily when he ran his tongue on the underside of the soft, sensitive skin as he lifted my top further up. He lifted it up and off, tossing it to the floor then lowered me down to the cover and kissed me, pressing his bare chest against mine. The warm flesh-on-flesh contact was incredible and gave me chills all over.
Don ran his hands over my breasts and stroked my nipples. His lips made their way from my mouth all the way to the open space in the center of my chest, his tongue passing over to my right nipple, circling it delicately. I whimpered as he put his entire mouth over it, sucking. As I began writhing beneath him, he stopped and switched to the other side. I threw my arms around his neck and held him close to me.
His hands gently cupped my breasts, his left hand fondling my nipple. As my hardened tip slipped from his mouth he kissed my abdomen and then my navel. His tongue played with my soft flesh, exciting me further as I squirmed with pleasure. He licked the area above the elastic of my panties and I gasped.
"Are you sure?" He was giving me an out.
I only nodded. Words seemed out of place at the time.
He placed his fingers in the top of my panties and gently peeled it from my body, discarding it on the floor. His hands ran up and down my body as his breathing became labored.
"You're so silky," he remarked.
"You don't like it?" I asked.
"No! No, Lord, no," he said. "It's perfect, like the rest of you." He placed a kiss just above my exposed mound, sending jolts of electricity through my body then separated my legs and began kissing my inner thighs. I watched him intently, my breathing ragged. He ran a finger along my slit, looking up at me as I stared into his eyes. I became wetter by the minute, waiting for him to finally touch it.
I felt his fingers creep up and begin to explore me. He gently slipped one finger in me without a word. All I could do was grunt and thrust my pelvis toward him. He thrust in and out of me rapidly, drawing cries of pleasure from me. He stopped momentarily to my dismay. Suddenly, I felt fuller and he quickened the pace. He had pushed another finger into me. I breathed rapidly, entwining my fingers in his hair.
"Oh, Don. Oh, Don," was all I could get out.
"I just want to make you feel good," he replied, nuzzling against my neck. I stroked his face softly and said nothing. What was I suppose to say at a time like this?
I guess he suddenly realized he was fully clothed. He stood up and slowly removed everything.
As he peeled his boxers off, his cock sprang out in front of him. It seemed much longer and thicker than I had even remembered. I breathed in deeply as I reached out to touch him. I cradled his rock solid manhood in my hands, stroking it lovingly. Then I don't know what came over me. And I know he was caught by surprise.
I leaned forward and sunk my entire mouth over the top of him. I tried to fit as much as I could into my mouth, but I could only go about half of the way down. With him deep in my mouth, I began caressing his cock with my tongue. His pre-cum that had gathered on the tip was thin and sort of salty but it was almost a treat to have tasted it.
"Shelly," he gasped, "Oh, God, it feels so good." I quickened my pace as he wrapped his fingers in my hair, massaging my scalp as my mouth bobbed up and down on his cock. My tongue worked hard within the confines of my lips, flicking over the head of his penis and swirling around his hard shaft.
"Shelly," he warned, "I'm gonna cum." As soon as he said that I released him. I could see that holding it back looked like it was going to kill him. When I took his hands in mine, I saw his cock twitch.
I had teased him for such a long time I wasn't going to do it any longer.
"I want you to have me," I told him in earnest. "I just want you."
I lay back all the way, spreading my legs. He positioned himself between them and took my face in his hands. As he leaned in to kiss me I wrapped my arms around him. He slowly inched his way into me, stretching me fiercely as he did. I whimpered against his mouth. I felt him trembling against me, trying hard to retain control of himself. Once he had gotten completely into me he broke the kiss and looked down into my eyes.
"Are you okay?" I shifted slightly beneath him, letting myself adjust to his tremendous girth. As I lay there, the feeling of being stretched diminished and was replaced by a wonderful feeling of fullness. I suddenly wanted more. I couldn't get enough.
"Take me," I commanded, pulling him slowly down into a kiss. A smile spread across his face as he began moving his hips. In and out, very slowly at first, my juices coating us both. He ground his pelvis into me with each inward thrust, pushing against my clit. I moaned quietly as he pushed into me. His trembling became more noticeable and it didn't take any more for me to figure out this would be quick. I decided to just let him go.
"Harder," I groaned. "Faster." He needed no more encouragement than that. Each drive became more powerful than the last, pushing deeper into me with more rapidity. My moans became louder and quicker as his strokes became poundings.
I felt him began tensing up.
"Shelly, I'm cumming. Oh, god, I'm cumming!"
With one final hard shove into me, he came, shooting deep within me. The grinding on my clit almost sent me over the edge, but not quite. Slowly he collapsed atop my body, both of us sweaty, chests heaving. The sweat glistened on his tan skin and his muscles looked taut. His eyes focused sweetly on mine as he swept a stray hair from my eyes. He was beautiful in every way and I knew that he would be the man I would always love.
That was the first of many, many nights we had together before we were married. I'll never forget the moment, the tenderness, him bringing me to the brink of orgasm. Unfortunately, the latter became too much a common occurrence.
Even though our sex was really great, he seemed to always come before I had a chance to reach mine. I think maybe when I escalated to such a level that I was ready to release it excited him too much and he exploded. Not that it wasn't fabulous because it really was. I just wanted to climb that final step with him.
It wasn't something I wanted to discuss with him. I certainly didn't want him to feel inadequate or think for even a second that I wasn't thrilled with our experiences. I just wanted to come with him. Luckily, as it seems always the case, the problem resolved itself without any intervention.
Ever since that first night when we went all the way we had started to experiment a little. I was still shocked that I had taken him in my mouth that first night. Little by little, he became a little more aggressive with his touches, both with his fingers and his mouth. I particularly responded to the touch of his mouth on me. It was heaven on earth.
The problem was that when my body started to respond to it, he invariably moved on to enter me before I could come.One night as we kissed, his hand wandered down between my legs. Parting my intimate area with his middle finger only, he slipped it between those lips and found my clit.
I was so wet with arousal and after we kissed more deeply he pulled away from my mouth and slid down my body, kissing and nibbling as he went along.
As he lapped at my pussy with his tongue over and over, I could feel my clit become engorged. I knew what that meant, having been there many times before when I was alone and rubbing it myself. I moaned slowly and softly and he seemed to double his efforts, sucking my clit in and out of his mouth. He curled a finger inside me and, most likely by accident, hit directly on my spongy g-spot. It firmed under his touch and my clit began to throb.
I don't know what came over me, but all at once I decided I wasn't going to let it pass by me this time. "D-o-n-n-n-n-n, please don't stop," I moaned. He sucked harder, speeding up and alternately hitting me with his tongue.
"Right there!!" "Suck it, suck it, suck it hard!!"
I couldn't believe it was me giving such explicit directions, taking over the situation and begging for completion. But it was and within a few agonizing minutes I got my reward.
Challenged, he wanted me to climax and worked his mouth and finger in cadence. Sucking and stroking me, I began to rock my hips in the same rhythm. Suddenly my torso froze and I stiffened. My thighs quivered and my orgasm covered me like a blanket.
"Oh my God, my God, OH GOD!" I kept repeating over and over. He pulled back and caressed my pussy gently with the palm of his hand as I rode the waves of my orgasm and he watched my experience in ecstasy.
Then he went back down and began to dart his tongue all over, teasing, never lingering, just a little tap and retreat of the tongue. My heart was racing and I bucked my hips wildly into his face. He responded with a long continuous lick the entire length of me. Again and again, he dragged his tongue over my entire intimate area.
I was crazy with lust. He quickened the pace and began to alternately lick and then suck and every nerve ending came alive. Sometimes he'd slow down, other times he'd lick, suck and blow frantically. My pussy was at the mercy of his mouth and I was enjoying being on the receiving end like I never had before.
"Ohhhhhhhhh Don... Don."
"O-o-o-o-o-h-h-h-h-h, o-o-o-o-h-h-h-h, o-o-o-o-h-h-h," was about how I started when I knew I was past the point of going back.
Then, in the next few seconds as I thrashed about under his mouth, I found out something about myself that has never changed and Don certainly isn't going to let me forget.
Some women are "criers" when they come, others may moan, still others become so physically animated that the man can hardly stay with them as they move about so much.
Not me. I'm a talker.
I start saying things and I can't quit. I beg, give explicit instructions, everything. And I'm afraid that all morality leaves me and my language gets extremely course.
That particular night Don recalls me saying, "There, there, right there. Suck it, suck it, suck my pussy. Make me come."
It has become an unintended and embarrassing part of our sex. I know that at times part of my blurting is,"Fuck me, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it!!"
And other times, "Harder, harder, right there, harder. All of it!! All of it!! I want your cock!!"
At times I must go overboard and don't even remember.
At times I have even begged him to "put it in my ass!" Or so he says. I will never allow him to do it but it isn't because I haven't asked for it during the throes of orgasms.
In short, our sex turned from great to unbelievable, especially once Don got a taste of bringing me off. He always does it in a hurry and the thrill is fast and furious. No matter how great it has been or will be, though, I'll never forget that first time he did it nor will I ever have another magical night like that one. It gave a whole new level of meaning to the expression, "All it needs is a woman's touch."
We dated three years before getting married and both of us knew we were small town people and would stay that way. Luckily, Don had a knack for the crafts and a father who was a master at it. He worked remodeling houses and did quite well. Eventually he started picking up some larger jobs renovating malls. It caused him to travel a lot but we managed both our private lives and our money well.
As for me I took a job as a clerk in a local plant. After a short while I wished I could do something to progress in my job but knew there wasn't much chance of it happening. People around there just didn't leave their jobs and all openings were extremely competitive.
Still, it wasn't bad. I knew a bunch of the guys who worked out in the plant and they were real quick to joke and carry on with me, especially when they knew Don was out of town.
"Hey, Shelly. Want me to come over and clean your well while Don is gone?"
"Yo, Shelly. I'll come trim you grass while Bozo's out of town."
I heard it all and laughed it off with them. The one time some guy I didn't really know got a little personal I let him know it and he was a perfect gentleman after that. I think he was just hopeful, that's all. Overall I had a lot of fun with them.
I couldn't imagine anything being better. We made the decision not to have children until much later in life when we could really afford it and Don was in a position to stay at home more often. Our life was great and our sex life was astonishing. I'd talk and talk and he'd screw, lick and suck.
Then, as they say, ""Shit happens."
It was five years into our marriage that my comfortable little world took a real shock.
Don had been doing a lot of renovations in malls across the country. The company he contracted with paid him well and covered all expenses including airfare when necessary.
One weekend when he came home and I was doing his laundry something very subtle caught my eye. I had just thrown a couple of shirts in the washer when I stopped and took them back out. I looked at them very closely, shrugged, and put them back in. I might have been wrong, but they sure looked like they had already been laundered before going into his dirty clothes bag.
It bugged me enough that the next time he came home I made sure I was alone when I went through his suitcase. This time there was no mistake in my find. There was definitely lipstick on his boxer shorts.
I was devastated. I somehow got through the next couple of days and although I chose not to approach him about it, I would go into crying bouts when he wasn't around.
How could he do this to me? How could it happen?
But deep down I knew what my problem really was. I knew exactly how it could happen. And this certainly wasn't the first time I had sat up all night and cried about something like this.
I harbored a deep secret I had never shared. And there were no fuzzy parts of it, no forgotten details. I had relived it a thousand times over, way too often to forget even the slightest detail.
And as I sat there in the dark hugging a pillow and lamenting Don's obvious activities I recalled it again, as vivid as if it happened the day before.
I was twenty-two and a half years old and had worked at the plant for two years as a clerk. The company officials were concerned about low productivity and brought in an engineer who was an efficiency expert. I was surprised when they assigned me to his work group and told me I would be with him for two months.
Gary Bannister was good. There's not much you could say other than that. Needless to say there was a lot of resentment and doubt when he first showed up. Nobody, and I mean nobody, wanted to make any changes that would make him or her bust their ass or lose their jobs.
Instead, he immediately came across as a super nice guy that everybody began to like. He made some changes in one area of the shop that not only made their job easier but also increased their production enough to significantly increase their production bonus. No suggestions made to him by the workers went without notice and he made it a point to respond to each in writing to make sure they knew what they thought was important.
The word got out in a hurry. All at once the guys were asking Gary when he was going to look in their areas, too. We were very busy and, even though my role was small, I was right in the middle of it and for the first time there felt important.
And then, there was Gary himself. I guess I was as impressed with him as the others but I was hoping that I wasn't swooning over him like some of the ladies there. He was in his late thirties, had just a touch of gray in the temple and was extremely good looking. Every part of him was perfect, it seemed, from his carefully trimmed hair to his manicured fingers. I'm sure I wasn't the only one to fantasize about him, especially the nights Don was out of town.
But, along with scads of documents indicating his many qualifications, he also had pictures on his desk of an absolutely beautiful woman and two children. He lived in a small town in Colorado and traveled as he needed, leaving his family in that safe haven. I didn't have a clue what he was paid but I knew it was a bunch. He lived very well.
Through it all, though, he treated each of us as if we were the most important person in his life. I know I felt that way and I really admired and looked to him as somebody very special. Yeah, I know. Here came that "Godlike" frame of mind again that I seemed to get myself in.
I knew it was coming to an end, though, and it was. He was scheduled to do an out brief on Thursday and as I left work Tuesday I was reminded not to bring lunch Friday. There was to be a small "good-bye" dinner as he left.
My job with him was over except for packing boxes so I scheduled Wednesday off, knowing I had some things to do at home and a couple of things at church to help with some Easter activities.
I got up early to get Don out for the day. He was going to be gone overnight to Oklahoma City so I got him out the door. It was about nine when the phone rang.
You can imagine my surprise when I heard Gary on the line. I spoke to him almost in awe for a minute, exchanging pleasantries as if we were meeting in the company hallway. I was really wondering why he called.
"I know you're off for the day but I wondered if you wanted to run down to Dallas with me for a few hours. There's an engineering conference down there and I need to make a few contacts."
I hesitated for a few seconds, concerned a little about the propriety of it and knowing I had some tasks to do. My hesitation didn't last long, though. I couldn't pass it up.
"What time will we be home?"
"Oh, not late. I hope to be home by eight or nine. I've got a couple of things to wrap up."
I agreed and then went into a little panic. I don't exactly know how he knew where I lived but he did and he was going to pick me up there. It was right near the freeway and made no sense for us to meet elsewhere. The panic part was he gave me twenty minutes to get ready.
I had just minutes to get totally dressed. What in the world would I wear? I sure didn't want to embarrass him or myself. I grabbed a new dress I had just bought for the season and put it on. It was lightweight white with some flower prints on it and was a lot shorter than I remembered. A lot shorter!
I knew my choices was limited and went with it. I have a tendency to wear dark underwear so the little white thong and bra I put on was practically of no function. They were both from a negligee Don had bought for me but were the only white things I had. I didn't have time to be concerned about my breast spilling out the top of the low cut bra. It was later when I realized how far by top fell open when I leaned open, totally exposing me
When I put on some shoes with short heels I knew I couldn't go without hose. I looked as fast as I could and was dismal that my only choice was a pair of light tan thigh highs that had an almost black lacy border at the top. I had nothing else to wear. And that was that!
He was waiting when I walked out of the house, his motor still running. I got in his car with him, which in itself was a trick. I had seen him zipping around in his old MG roadster ever since he had been there. It must have been thirty years old and, of course, was immaculate and perfect. I wouldn't have featured it any other way.
The reason it was such a trick getting in was that it set so low. I had to really get down low before swinging my legs in. In a quick instant not only did he get a good look at my legs but I'm sure down the front of my dress, too.
He whistled and laughed at me a little.
"This thing we're going to is actually an engineering exhibit. You may have wished you'd worn jeans and sneakers before the day is over. But, you do look wonderful and I appreciate it."
I blushed like a little girl. He was comfortably dressed in a pair of slacks and a polo shirt.
I didn't realize how close we would be sitting to each other in the little car. We were practically shoulder-to-shoulder and it was awkward to sit with my legs in the confined area without my dress riding up. It was just impossible and I found myself constantly adjusting myself at first. Finally, I just gave it up. If he could see considerably above my knees that would just have to be the case.
I guess I didn't know just exactly the extent of the problem. It wasn't just a matter of him getting constant glances above my knees. In fact, the dress rode so high that the top of my stockings was exposed, providing flashes of my tanned legs spilling out of the top of them.
He was such a gentleman about it. I knew that he couldn't help but catch glances at me, but at least he didn't stare as most would. Within minutes he had me relaxed and feeling very good about myself. He was fun to be with.
He was very quick to point out things in the car for me to look at and made me in charge of changing cd's. Instead of letting one go through all the songs, I changed it after each one. Each time I had to lean way over and later I realized that in the close proximity he was getting a full shot down my gaping blouse of everything I owned. I'm sure he couldn't miss my two round mounds spilling out of the top of that flimsy bra, right down to an occasional slip of nipples.
Even though I knew he was starting to pay my body more attention and his glances getting more and more noticeable, he relaxed me and I was enjoying myself. He was such a great man; I just couldn't believe I was getting some special time with him. And the fact that he invited me to go to a conference with him. It was beyond my imagination.
The drive to Dallas is over two hours. About halfway there somehow the conversation turned over to my high school days, which weren't that long past. I started telling him about some of the stuff we did and my majorette days and he really laughed with me. I have a tendency to become very animated when I tell a story so I was moving around a lot, moving my hands and twisting around to talk to him.
I don't know exactly how long I kept it up before I couldn't help but notice that his glances at my legs had become almost a stare. When I looked down I didn't blush. Instead, I flushed deeply, my blood draining from my face. Somewhere during my antics, my movements and the seat belt had combined to pull my short skirt up, bunching a large amount of it above the seat belt.
My crotch was totally exposed, the flimsy white cloth making a poor effort of covering me. In short, my dark pussy was clearly visible through the white transparency with little tufts of hair sticking out all around it!
Nothing was said between the two of us. I lifted slightly and adjusted myself as well as possible. I could have just died, especially when I saw the little smile on his face. And once again, I marveled at what a perfect gentleman he was.
Once we were there, I had fun. It was in fact an engineering sales show and I couldn't believe what nice stuff they gave me for my booty bag. It didn't go past me that I was looking very good in a male dominated environment. But what really impressed me was Gary.
It didn't take long for me to understand how well known and respected he was as an engineer. Most knew him by reputation if not personally. He exchanged business cards and many times those that did not personally know him lit up as they met him and were anxious to engage him in conversation. A couple of times they pulled out especially nice stuff as a gift that they were not normally offering. He received an extremely expensive pocketknife that he graciously passed on to me.
"Your husband can use this more that I," he told me.
Then, at one booth he asked me to stand there for a second.
"I'll be right back."
Two minutes later when I looked up I was floored. He had changed clothes and was now wearing a jacket and tie. I couldn't believe it and was totally mystified. Then I heard his laugh and looked around. There he was, standing right behind me.
"Let me introduce my brother, Stephen."
What a surprise! He had a twin brother who was also an engineer. We ended up going to dinner together and I was treated to a real neat evening. They told stories of each other and I got an even deeper insight of Gary. Steve called him "Bucks" all the time, letting me know when Gary went to the rest room that he made a huge amount of money.
"Well, I know this. He sure knows when something is right," I offered.
"No he doesn't. He knows when something is wrong. He's done that all his life."
Then he slipped in a little something that I didn't quite comprehend at the time. He looked at me slowly up and down and smiled wistfully.
"Just so you know, he rarely does got after something he wants that he doesn't get."
I just nodded and smiled. I was sure it was true, whatever it meant.
The dinner ended about eight and after good-byes we got in the car. Not only had I enjoyed their company but I had also enjoyed the only expensive bottle of wine I have ever had in my life. I'll have to admit there is a huge difference in the taste. And I had way too much of it.
The sun had set and as we pulled out of the lights of Dallas I decided that I was indeed in the presence of a great man. He was attractive, a genius, had a beautiful wife, made great money and was a great family man.
In my wine lightened state of mine, at the moment I may not have put him on the level of President, but certainly that of Secretary of State!
This time when he put on a cd, we didn't change it from the soft music it offered. I don't know if we just ran out of conversation or the wine was working us both but we went silent, the only sound being the music above the engine.
Soon afterward his fingers found my neck, slowly and softly caressing the back of it in an idle gesture. I hesitated a little, not too sure if this was a good idea. Maybe it was just a little too cozy. But between the wine and my respect for him within seconds I let it pass.
Being this close to somebody this wonderful was such a blessing. The fact that we were comfortable enough with each other for a small intimate moment was even better. I closed my eyes and let him continue, relaxing with his touch. With such manicured hands I should have known his touch would be like everything else. Perfect.
I don't know how much time passed. It was minutes, it was a few songs, it was a number of long breaths on my part, hundreds of little circles of his fingers. I just know that there was a span of time and space that occurred without me detecting it.
But slowly, through that unknown and undetected span, I felt his fingers down inside my dress and slowly caressing the top of my breasts. I don't know when and how they arrived there, just that they were. They were so gentle, so enticing, and so warm that I did the unbelievable. Instead of objecting, I instead enjoyed. I knew it was wrong, I knew it was dangerous. But what I knew most was that I was in such an agreeable state of mine that I welcomed his touch. How could anything this man do be wrong?