Here I was, ball deep in her tight young pussy, and I couldn’t kiss her. At least not on her mouth. Her neck, or anywhere below, was just fine and appreciated. Little kisses like you give friends and family were OK; it was the hot, wet, sexy ones that were saved for her husband. No other sex parts of anyone else got in her mouth either.
So I sucked on and teased hard nipples on the firm medium sized breasts in easy reach as she thrust her hips back at mine. Her legs wrapped around my waist as she pulled me in tight during her second orgasm since I began stretching her vagina with my shaft. The clutches of that velvet grip brought me to emptying myself in spasmodic relief.
We didn’t have long this time so we cleaned up and we goodbye kissed European style. No mention of a “next time” was made. We joined bodies when we could.
Perla was a mid-twenties Hispanic woman with a cute smile, a Spanish accent lilt to her voice, and a fairly tall, slim body. Nice hips just made to cradle a man too. I’d encountered her at a place I consulted and we’d spent some time together. Late one day she asked if I’d buy her a drink when the clinic closed. Having no better invitation, and certainly none as interesting for too long, I suggested a place to meet.
She picked a table in a far corner and sat next to me rather than across. Hmmm, this was getting interesting. As we sipped and snacked on some appetizers she skillfully led the conversation. After a bit, one of her hand ended up on my thigh. Hmmm, again.
I’d learned that she’d been married only two years but had a husband who worked out-or-town jobs about half the time, sometimes as long as two weeks straight. It was the middle of one of those now, she complained.
“How does a young wife like you manage that? You must get lonely.” I led with.
She took it and ran, “I get more horny than lonely.”
“Oh? So what do you do about that?”
Moving her hand to my crotch she replied sweetly, “I find helpers, of course. Are you interested?”
Since there was nothing subtle about her, I decided on some direct questions. “And how does your husband feel about this?”
“He knows how horny I am. He learned that quickly, like on the second date when I nearly killed him with my body. We screw at least once a day when he is home and often more. It was clear that I would not stay ‘dry’ and frustrated while he was gone, any more than I did on days I wasn’t with him when we were dating. He knows he was number twenty-seven in my pants when we met.”
I couldn’t resist, “So what number would I be?”
“I don’t count any more so if he asks I can say I don’t know. I’m not a slut that just takes any opportunity. Long term is best.”
“Well, I’m definitely interested. How many helpers does it take?”
She smiled that smile again, “More than one due to scheduling. I’ve slowed down a bit, but at least once every other day. More if available is fine.”
I was firm by this time and she could feel it with her hand unmoved. “How do we start?”
“Tell me how to get to your place. My bed is only for my husband.” That’s when I learned about the kissing rule too.
Fifteen minutes later I was undressing her as she stood next to my bed. I kissed every interesting tidbit as it was uncovered. When I laid her down and headed towards that dark-furred pleasure place, she commented, “Don’t worry, I showered and cleaned it this morning.” She was delicious and got happily noisy quickly.
I took her classic style that first time six months ago. She was an active one, all right. Her hips were limber and strong. When she felt my tension rise, she said sweetly, “Let it go and stay inside. I want more of you.” Damn right!
Her availability isn’t too predictable between her husband’s work assignments, her own activities, and juggling multiple lovers. She is very considerate of her men though, which is one of many reasons I care for her so much. It really seems to have gone beyond pure coitus.
A good example is the first time she would spend the whole night with me. There had been quickies so far. When she arrived, obviously hurrying and a bit late, she apologized and explained her husband had been leaving, so she had to give him a proper goodbye.
“Do you want me to shower before dinner?” she asked, “I came straight here.”
I took her hand and said, “May I enjoy an appetizer just as you are?”
She beamed and followed me to the bedroom where I did my usual undress and kiss routine. When I peeled her panties off, the crotch was extra damp and the odor of sex was not hers alone. I ventured as far as a quick lick of her clit, but not the usual tongue-fuck we both enjoyed. She gave a short squeak, probably because she was extra sensitive down there right now. Later she told me that was quite erotic.
She laid back, opening her dripping and ready pleasure-door wide. I immersed my shaft in one slippery stroke and soaked in the feeling. More than ever, I wanted a hot, deep kiss to seal the union but had to console(?) myself with her tits. The texture of the lubrication was different than usual and I inquired, “How long ago?”
She knew exactly what I meant as she murmured, “Less than an hour.”
No more was said about her serial screwing. It was just enjoyed vigorously. After a joint shower we fixed dinner without bothering to dress. It was delightful to see her attractive body bouncing, literally and figuratively, around the kitchen.
We watched a vintage porn movie snuggled on the couch, fondling each other and rebuilding our need until the video finished. We drained the wineglasses I’d kept filled throughout and headed to the unmade bed, still showing evidence of its earlier use.
“I’m so delighted to have you here,” I started with, caressing her back and buns as we lay on our sides close together. “It means a lot to me.”