Copyright© 2012 by oyster50
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Steve is on the road at a remote site when he runs into Brenda, a co-worker from his office. She's there to spend a couple of days training. So's Steve. But days change into nights, and it's two adults in a strange town.
Monday afternoon in October. I was just getting ready to close the lid on my computer when Brenda walked in.
"What are YOU doing here?" she asked with a smile.
"I gotta do a little training and a little hand-holding," I said. "Brady's not really comfortable with the new equipment. So what are YOU doing this far from your office?"
I was an engineer. Fifty-five. Pretty good shape. Losing hair. Okay, twenty pounds were there that I needed to lose.
Brenda managed one of our maintenance database programs. Brenda was in her mid-forties, fifty pounds overweight, brunette, with interesting streaks of blonde added, tastefully arranged. Her grey eyes seemed to me to be constantly laughing, pleasant. She had a quick, sarcastic wit and got along well with people, whether they were the engineers and administrators of the regional office where she normally worked, or the dirty-hands mechanics and technicians of the various remote sites like this one.
"You know that they just rolled out a major upgrade to the program," she said. "I have to go to every station and do a couple of days of training so everybody can use it." She sighed. "Like everybody uses it in the first place."
"I know what you mean. Computers. They scare the daylights out of the old guys. At least some of 'em."
"Yeah," she said. "I have two of those here."
"They'll try, or not, but there's others who'll pick up their slack," I said.
"Uh-huh," she frowned. Then she started smiling again. "So where're you staying?"
I named the hotel, a mid-priced one, part of a national chain.
"Me too," she said as she hauled out a projector. "As soon as I get this thing checked out for tomorrow's training, I'm headed there."
"Lemme help you," I said. I was pretty proficient with the projector in question, having used it myself. Together we figured out the location and made sure that it was going to work with her laptop.
She started putting her computer away. "So if you want, we can eat dinner together. I hate going to eat by myself."
"None of the station guys wanna go?"
She shook her head and said softly, "No."
"I can't figure that out," I said.
"Some of 'em would get in trouble with their wives, and some of 'em just wanna get home, and I'm not exactly the one that..."
"If ... Let's just say if I was twenty an' blonde and a hundred and ten pounds..."
"We're talking about dinner, right?"
"Yeah! You up for it?"
"Sure! I'm like you. Gets old eating by myself."
We left the site in separate company cars and drove fifteen miles to the nearby town. I let her check into the hotel ahead of me and we went to the elevator together.
"What room?" she asked.
"Two-twelve," I said. "You?"
"Two-forty-four. What time d'ya wanna go to dinner?"
"Five-thirty okay?" I asked.
"Sounds good. I'll call you," she smiled.
I went to my room, slipped off my shoes and took a little nap, then took my personal computer out and checked personal email, then washed my face. I was looking at the clock when the phone rang.
"Hey, Steve," she said. "You hungry?"
"You betcha," I said.
"See ya in the hall, then."
I stuck the keycard in my back pocket and stepped out into the hall. She was walking toward me, that permanent smile beaming. We walked through the lobby.
"Let's take my car," she said.
"Your call," I said. "You got a restaurant in mind?"
"You don't mind Mexican, do you?" she asked.
"Look at me. Does it look like I'm picky?" I laughed.
"You an' me both," she said. "Mexican it is."
We were sitting in the restaurant, talking about the work and the people and enjoying things in general.
"You drink wine with your meal?"
"On occasion," I said.
"This is an occasion," she answered.
"And it's on expenses," I laughed.
"That too," she giggled.
The meal was pleasant. Brenda was an excellent conversationalist, knowledgeable in many areas, and we talked our way through the meal.
"You know who's on Monday Night Football?" she asked.
I named the teams. "That was going to be my evening," I said. "Eat, shower, watch the game."
"Mine too," she sighed. She looked at the wine glass. "This is pretty good stuff. I could use a bottle."
"Not while you're driving," I said.
"No, but a couple of glasses while I watch the game..."
"Yeah, but I wouldn't see the end of the game," I laughed.
The waiter brought the check and I flipped my card at it. "Let me pay..." then I saw the twinkle in her eye. "Well, my card. Company pays!"
We walked out of the restaurant into the waning light and drove up the road toward the hotel. She pulled into a package liquor store. "What was the name of that wine?"
I told her.
"Come in here with me. I'm gonna buy a bottle."
I went inside with her and she did indeed get a bottle of a very pleasant wine.
As we completed the trip, she looked at me. "This is pretty pleasant," she said, "having company like this. You know, we don't have to watch the game in separate rooms."
"No? You wanna go watch it in the lobby?"
"Nahhh, I wanna get my shower an' get comfortable, but if you wanna go do YOUR shower, then come to the room, I got two queen beds. That way I don't talk to myself, if you're there."
"You know, that might be a good deal."
She smiled. "And that way I don't have to drink this whole bottle by myself."
We walked back into the hotel and went to our separate rooms again.
"I'll call you when I get finished with my shower, ' she said.
"Okay. See you in a bit."
I closed the door behind myself and started undressing, thinking of how pleasant and comfortable the evening had been to this point. Comfortable. Brenda was NOT the kind of female that had you hanging your tongue out, then when you couldn't get close to her, you ended up whacking off in frustration. Besides, at fifty-five and divorced, I was adept at handling frustration.
I showered, shaved, dabbed on some aftershave and deodorant and donned the clothes, jeans and a pullover shirt, that I expected to wear the next day, and then waited.
A few minutes passed and the phone rang.
"This is Steve," I answered.
"Hey! Come on down. Have you been watching?"
"Yeah," I said. "Nothing to nothing, so far. I'll see you in a minute."
I walked up the hall and knocked lightly. She opened the door. I looked. She was wearing a hugely oversized football jersey. It reached almost to her knees.
She read my eyes. "Oh, I hope this isn't too relaxed. I mean, it doesn't show as much as the dresses I wear to the office."
"Oh, no," I said. "That's fine. Wish I had something as comfortable, ' I finished as I stepped inside.
She flipped the deadbolt and the lockbar. "Habit," she said.
There were two queen beds, one showing that it had been used. I kicked off my shoes and stretched out in the other, propping up on pillows.
She got her bottle of wine. "Forgot a corkscrew," she said.
"Got a Swiss Army knife," I said. "Lemme do that." I opened the bottle handily and she produced a couple of water glasses.
"Classy," she laughed as I poured us each a generous serving. She took a tentative sip, then a longer drink. She wrinkled her nose, grey eyes twinkling. "Mmmm," she said. "Good!"
We watched the game for a while. She looked at me as I moved, trying to get a bit more comfortable. "How about another glass, Steve?" she asked.
"Oh, yeah," I said.
She poured us each another. Giggled. "I don't drink that often. Kinda buzzed," she admitted.
"Me too," I said.
We knocked back the second dose and the split the remainder of the bottle between us. She was grinning. "You know, Steve, you look uncomfortable, buddy. I'm comfortable, you know. This is what I sleep in. What'd'you sleep in?"
"I don't have any pajamas," I said.
"What'd'you sleep in?" she repeated.
"Drawers and a T-shirt," I said.
She smiled. "You COULD get more comfortable, you know..."
"Uh..." and the wine sort of dulled my good sense. "Yeah, I guess I could, but..."
"But I don't mind," she said. "You're over there. I'm over here. Go ahead. If you WANT to."
"Okay," I said. "Why not?" I stood and stripped my pants and socks off.
She looked me up and down. I was half-hard, producing a respectable bulge in my drawers. I tried to turn, attempting to hide it, and I thought I saw her eyes change. I lay back down on my side, propped up on an elbow so I could watch the game.
Hair. The normal look Brenda affected had her hair held in place with spray, not a bad look, but all my life I'd despised hairspray. The Brenda I saw right now had the soft look of shampooing and blow-drying and was a softer, more pleasant look. I shouldn't have said anything, but I made the comment.
"You like it like this?" she sounded surprised.
"I hate the feel of hairspray," I admitted.
She stroked her hair, then ran her fingers through it. "I never paid any attention. Always used the stuff, since I was a teen," she said. Her eyes brightened. "You can touch it..." she got up and sat on the edge of my bed.
It was offered, and I couldn't resist. I reached, stroking the softness, relishing the feel, ending my stroke by smoothing it onto and over her shoulder and the back of her neck. "Feels nice," I said. "Really..." I stroked some more.
"That feels so nice," she said. "You ... if I stayed here, would that be okay?"
That was the point where I could've stayed sane. Brenda was married. Had pictures of husband and kids and the new grandbaby on her desk and walls at her office. And I could've easily said something to defuse the situation, but instead I said, " Sure, Brenda."
"Just wanna be touched," she said. "Like you were doin'..."
"Then scoot over here," I said, holding my arm out for her to get close to me. She took the signal and snuggled her plush body against me so I could continue to caress her head. I didn't restrict myself to her hair. Her face wasn't made up now, after her shower, and forty-odd years showed on her, but who was I to be complaining: she was close and warm and completely pleasant and my fingertips bushed her cheek once, tentatively.
Instead of a 'no' or a 'stop' or a movement away from my touch, she turned her face to give me better access.
"Mmmm, feels soooo good, Steve..."
"You sure? I can stop."
"Don't," she said. She turned onto her side, moulding herself against me. I couldn't touch her head with that arm any longer, but it did fall on her side. I know that some guys get upset with the idea of a fat woman, but this ... Brenda, yes, her side wasn't a smooth curve, but rather a couple of rolls of fat, but it STILL felt good to touch, at least to me. And I touched her gently, then pulled her even closer.
"I'm not grossin' you out?"
"Whatever would gross me out, Brenda?"
"I'm fat. Old an' fat."
"You're ten years younger than me, so that takes care of the 'old' part. And fat? Who cares? You're YOU. So what if you're not some fairy's idea of a super-model? You're very pleasing to look at. You smile, you're smart, you're funny, and you sure feel good laying there."
Her arm, the arm that had been folded between us, it came out and wrapped over my chest. My turn to go "Mmmmm..."
She looked up at me. "Steve, it's been years since ... like this..."
"Seriously? But ... you're married."
"Seriously. Old and fat ... he doesn't..."
"I'm sorry, Brenda."
"Not your fault, guy," she said. "If you wanna stop..."
I could've said 'yes', but I didn't. "No, Brenda. Not as long as you're okay with it. I get lonely too, you know ... bein' single."
"Then keep holdin' me." She wiggled against me, and the somber mood ended with a little, soft giggle. She pulled up a bit, bringing our faces together.
"You need to prepare yourself, sir."
"Prepare myself? For what?"
"For getting kissed." She smiled, eyes atwinkle. "You DO wanna get kissed, huh?"
My turn to do something. If she was thinking 'kiss', then I wanted to kiss her. That soft, sweetly fragrant hair? I ran my fingers through it and gently urged her fact to mine. The first contact of our lips was almost frightened, but then she got bold and she WANTED to be kissed. After the second or third, she was halfway on top of me, our arms wrapped around each other. I was hard.
She sighed between kisses. "Steve, is it okay if I blame all this on the wine tomorrow?"
"As long as you keep kissing."
Her lips touched mine again. I loved her tongue as it teased mine. I let my hands play, one caressing her cheek as we kissed, the other tracing her back softly, then pressing her against me. That hand went as low as the break between her back and the swell of that plump ass. I stopped, not going further, and I guess it was obvious.
She pulled her lips from mine. "Nobody told you to stop, guy," she said softly.
I took that as permission and followed the lush, soft curves, receiving purrs into my mouth as we kissed. Her right hand had been palm flat on my chest. It slid purposefully downward and when it contacted my rigid member, we BOTH moaned.
"You're excited," she giggled.
"No joke, Brenda. This ... you're the sexiest thing I can imagine right now..."
She smiled. "Been a long time since somebody said I was sexy, guy," she said. "Or touched me like that," she said. "Your hand..."
My hand was cupping a lovely bit of her ass. "Feels good, lady," I said. I decided that I wanted under that nightshirt and started easing it up. She made no move to hinder me, and when I got the hem up past her panties, I slid my hand inside them, touching her warm skin.
She responded by fishing my dick out of my underwear. As she softly explored it, she asked softly, "Steve, what kind of things do you like?"
I was sliding my hand around her hip, then pushing it gently under her, heading for her pussy. "Everything, angel," I said. "What you're doing is wonderful. What do YOU like?"
She kissed me with even more passion, then pulled her mouth away and whispered, "I think I would like to be eaten, and I would like to suck this..." She stroked my shaft in emphasis. "We can do that, can't we? I mean, it's not REALLY sex, is it, if we don't go all the way?"
I was relishing the thought of that happy face, the face I enjoyed so often, laughing in meetings, talking in the hall, THAT face, happily sucking me, and that was sure enough sex to me, but if she wanted to act otherwise, I'd go along. "As long as we don't go all the way, baby..."
She let out a little gasp as my fingertips found their way into a very wet slit. Yes, it WAS a fat pussy. And I was anticipating the happy idea of sinking my face into it. My fingertips explored her pussy, working into a surprisingly tight hole, then tracing their way through the juice to her erect clit.
"God, Steve, I'm about to come right now..."
"Then I think I should be enjoying this," I said, gently flicking her clit.
"Yesssss," she hissed.
I knelt in the bed and started her panties down. She raised her butt to let me finish as I carefully moved the crotch from between the crevices in her crotch. As I pulled them down her thighs and calves, she peeled that nightshirt over her head, revealing full, rounded titties, the nipples prominent, centered in light brown circles of her areoles.
I couldn't pass those up. They both got sucked as I moved downward. I ended up in the midst of a juicy, musky pussy, almost dripping with juice. And I enjoyed that juice. And when I pushed my lips and tongue between those lips and found her clit, she went wild. Her hands clapped the back of my head, pulling me into her as I licked and sucked. Some women don't like direct contact with the clit. Brenda wasn't one of them. The more I licked and sucked, the more violent she shuddered.
"OhgodohgodohgodSteeeeve" and a welling of juice from her pussy that I eagerly lapped up. She relaxed immediately, falling back against the pillows. "Come up here, baby," she sighed.
I did. I held her to me, gently touching her face, caressing, loving her. After a bit, I explored those large titties, savoring the round, heavy fullness.
"Kiss me, Steve," she said.
I kissed her.
"It's been so damned LONG," she said. "I needed YOU to do that to me. It's not the same when I do it to myself."
"Glad you liked it, Brenda," I said.
She smiled. "Do you like to be sucked, baby?"
"I'd love for you to suck me, Brenda," I said.
"I dearly want to suck you. I want to feel you, taste you when you come in my mouth."
I was just about ready to spurt right then, between the erotic flavors still lingering on my tongue and the throaty, eager words she spoke.
"There's gonna be a lot, Brenda," I said.
"I want every drop," she said as she slid down in the bed. She curled her fingers under my balls. "I love balls," she said. "My husband hates having his played with. I LOVE 'em."
"They're yours, Brenda."
"I'll be careful," she said as she tugged gently, rolling them around, pulling them inside the sack. She was between my legs and I felt a hot mouth close over one, sucking gently, her tongue bathing it, then she repeated the move on the other. My dick was starting to pulse on its own. I think I was getting ready to come just from the treatment my sack was receiving.
She slid upward a little and licked the length of my dick then enveloped the head in her mouth, covering me with exquisite moisture and warmth and pressure. She went as far down the shaft as her mouth would allow, the she sucked as she withdrew. She looked at me and smiled. "God, I love this," she said.
"Oh, Brenda, that's wonderful," I exclaimed. "But baby, I'm very close."
"I think so," she grinned. "And I'm gonna get it." Her head bobbed back down and she stroked with one hand, played with my balls with the other, and her lips slid up and down my shaft, augmented by her tongue and teeth. "Mmmmmm," she said.
"It's ... ohgod, Brenda ... I'm ... coming..." I blurted through clenched teeth. The first squirt was like nothing describable, and it was only the first of several, her tongue and throat working to draw the maximum load each time, then as the spurts subsided, she kept sucking, purring deep in her throat.
Finally, her head came up, smiling. "I can safely assume that you enjoyed that?"
"Like nothing ever before in my life, Brenda. Come up here."
She did, and I kissed her, brushing her lips with my tongue, teasing her to open her mouth to me, and then her kiss got hotter as she realized where my own tongue was.
The orgasms must have sobered us.
"Steve, I haven't done any of this with anybody but my husband since high school," she said, her grey eyes confirming the words.
"Then why tonight, Brenda? I didn't come here to take advantage of you..."
"If anybody took advantage of anybody, I took advantage of YOU, Steve," she said. "And I don't feel like I've been used..." she paused. "I feel like I've been fulfilled. I was tellin' you the truth. It's been so long. We've had a sexless marriage for years."
"Brenda, you're a good friend, and I've always been happy to work with you, and I don't want to ruin that," I said, honestly.
She kissed me again. "Hush, baby. You're not ruining anything." Her hand was stroking my dick again, and it was half-hard. Her eyes twinkled. "But I'm not finished with this thing." She twisted in the bed and enveloped me again.
I moaned. "God, Brenda, that's gooood!"
She came back up beside me, stroking me, tugging me, as she rolled onto her back. "C'mere!"
"A girl can change her mind," she smiled. "If you..."
I answered her by rolling over in between those meaty thighs and wiping g the head of my dick up and down the length of her juicy pussy, then easing inside her, causing her to sigh.
I had no idea how difficult it would be to get her to come like this, but I knew that what I was feeling would easily make ME come, although the fact that less than a half hour before, I'd had one of the most momentous orgasms in my life.
"Oh, yessssss, baby! Fill me!" she hissed, her hands grasping my waist.
I dipped my head, taking a nipple in my mouth, holding it there with suction, licking it.
"Bite!" she hissed.
I bit. And I stroked in and out of her, her own hips surprisingly agile as she worked herself against me.
"Nnnnk. Nnnnk. Ohgod, Steve. Againnnnnn!" and she was coming, a blush coloring her, starting with her face, moving down to cover her chest. It was real.
So was mine as her pussy clenched on my shaft.
Her eyes sparkled. She smiled. "YOU did, huh?"
"Ohgodyes," I said, grinning broadly.
"Good thing we have two beds, otherwise somebody'd have to sleep in the wet spot."
I eased off her and she snuggled into my arms. "Don't go back to your room, Steve."
I looked into the grey eyes and the softy rounded face. "I was hoping you'd say that, Brenda," I answered.
"I crossed a line," she said. "And I don't care. I needed that. Her lips were so moist and enticing. We kissed. "I needed you."
All I could do was smile. "Kinda adds a new dimension to friendship," I opined.
"Would I be a terrible person if I said I didn't want this to be a one-night thing?" she asked.
"No, baby," I said.
"Baby," she repeated. "Sounds so good when YOU say it."
"I have a hard time classifying what we just did as a purely physical thing, Brenda..."
"Me too, baby," she said. "More than friends, then?"
"Yes. More than friends." I kissed her again.
She smiled. "So you said you're gonna be here tomorrow night, too?"
"Yes, I am."
She pulled me closer to her. "Good. Really good."