Chapter 2

Monica was still reeling from the memory of what she had done with Cole the evening two days before. Make that memories, her memory of everything that had gone on that night changing from hour to hour, times and positions and words altering as though roving pieces of a puzzle. The only sure beginning was the tequila, the only sure end of the puzzle being when she saw the time on the clock while she was peeing. Everything else was a blur.

Except the orgasms. Monica could still feel the spasms of pleasure that tore through her body while she was grinding back on Cole’s cock. And she still smiled at the memory of when he first unleashed a torrent of his cum inside of her. She had almost jumped out of his arms in surprise at the feel, even wondering if the man was peeing inside of her. But how many times? And in what order? Monica was unsure, but no matter how many ways she replayed her memory of that evening, the result was the same. She had gotten drunk, had fucked her neighbor up and down the length of his bedroom, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

After another day passed, and still days before June waylaid her by the car, Monica had decided on her own to confront the memory and the main perpetrator by walking over to talk with Cole. Her head was a mess, still unsure if she had been raped or was herself at fault for allowing Cole to go as far as he had in the front room. Her mind was never free of the wonderful sex, her knees growing weak when certain events from that evening came into her head, but she was equally overwhelmed by the guilt and shame of taking such pleasure in the act. Monica knew she would never be at peace with herself unless she confronted Cole and demand he explain himself, but the thought of facing Cole filled her with trepidation, with doubts, and no small amount of terror.

Monica had hoped that June might come by, perhaps to return the plate and bowl she had left at the neighbor’s house, but Monica wasn’t sure of what she could say about that night. How did you bring something like that up with the ravisher’s teenage daughter? No, Monica would have to just walk over and make Cole understand that what he had done was wrong and that she didn’t want him to ever mention what they had done, especially around Jim.

Monica made sure to dress appropriately this time. No cheap throw-on dress with a low neckline. She chose a pair of slacks, not too form fitting of course, held up by a simple elastic belt, and on top a button-down blouse that covered her entire chest. She made sure to wear her most functional bra, thick and meant to do nothing but cover and hide, support and protect.

As she put on the bra Monica thought it a shame to confine and hide her breasts, remembering what Cole had said about how perfect they were, how much he admired her nipples. She even lost herself for a second, thinking of how amazing it felt to have him nibble and suck on them. The man definitely knew his way around the feminine form. Which was the heart of the problem.

Monica mentally slapped herself, reminding herself of why she had to dress as though going to a business meeting. Cole was to be told to back off and apologize. The fact that Jim hadn’t given her perfect white mounds so much as a glance in the last year was his fault. Or perhaps hers. Monica decided that after giving Cole a piece of her mind, she would return home and prepare a special steak stir-fry she had read about online. Open up a bottle of red, stream some steamy music, maybe get some real attention from Jim. Definitely. After today, it would all come back together. So Monica kept telling herself.

Looking down the block, Monica saw Cole’s truck, pictured him working at home, and thought through what she needed to say to him and what she wanted to hear from him. Taking a deep breath Monica focused on making her feet walk to the sidewalk and down the street, wishing her heart would slow, hoping she could get all the words out without crying. Walking up to his house was the hardest thing, step by step, then knocking on the door, half wishing June would answer the door and tell Monica that he was gone for the day. Deep breath. Just keep breathing.

June answered, but then immediately stepped back, inviting Monica in and telling her to have a seat. It was hard to sit on the couch without Monica vividly picturing what she and Cole had done just days before, Monica’s heart racing, her mind suddenly unable to focus.

“Here Monica. Have a seat. Cole is in the back working on a sprinkler system. I’ll get him. Would you like some water?”

“No, thanks June. I just had something to say to Cole, that’s all. Thanks.”

“Okay then. Be right back.”

Monica could hear June yelling out to Cole from the back door, then a few minutes passing while the two talked in low tones. Cole finally made an entrance through the side door that connected the kitchen to the garage, wiping his hands on a small towel. He quickly made it over to where Monica sat. “Monica, its so nice to see you again. I haven’t had a chance to thank you for such a wonderful meal you gave my June and me. So good of you.”

His hands were held out in greeting, his big handsome smile framed by a full head of thick black hair, his eyes shining and full of life. Monica felt she really needed to stand and greet Cole back, tightening a little as he gave her a quick hug, but then sitting back down on the couch as Cole took a seat in a nearby chair.

“So, don’t you worry about your dishes,” Cole said. “June has them all clean and ready to go. My, but you look nice,” and here Cole reached over to hold the nearest of Monica’s hands. “That color blouse looks stunning on you. I wish I could get June to dress up like that even once a week. It’s always jeans and some kind of sleeveless top. Kids. But you don’t have any, do you?”

The question was innocent, Cole seeming to just be making conversation, but it threw Monica off track and away from what she had meant to talk to him about. All she could do is shake her head and say that she and Jim were waiting for a few more years before deciding on children. That’s when June walked in and stood next to the couch, asking again if anybody wanted anything. This gave Monica the chance to say what she had to say and leave before her beating heart exploded.

“Um, June, could you leave us alone for a while? I’ve got something I need to talk to Cole about.” Simple, straightforward, like an adult to a child. Monica felt stronger and sat up, pulling her hand away from Cole’s own, itself almost twice the size of hers.

“Oh, sure. I was just about to leave anyway. Somebody around here has to buy groceries. Just going to walk down to the **Mart and get what we need for dinner. Want anything else Cole?”

Monica thought it odd that June would refer to her father as “dad” one minute and then refer to him by his first name the next. Her mind began wondering how she would expect her own children to refer to her. Then June quickly left, closing the door behind her.

“I’m so glad you had June leave. So nice to have you next to me. You know I’ve missed you Monica. I would have gone over to your house but I felt nervous, not sure what to say.”

Cole again reached over to take up Monica’s hand, and more incongruously pulling it up to his lips and kissing it, speaking to her as though they were friends and lovers from years before. Monica had to swallow and rethink her short speech through, forcing the words out, making Cole listen to what she had to say.

“Cole, we have to talk about, you know, the other night. It was wrong. You shouldn’t have done what you did. I don’t know what to think anymore, of myself, or my marriage. I’m just a wreck.” Monica hadn’t meant to say those last words, but they tumbled out, as though confessing to the man who was responsible for her present state of mind. At least she had said something, but before she could continue with her speech, Cole broke in.

“Oh, Monica. I’m so sorry. I understand and, yes, I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking about you every minute of the day. And not just before that night. I mean, I’ve been dreaming of you ever since we first met. I had always thought that we’d have this long slow romantic relationship, with me sending you flowers, then the occasional dinner, never thinking that we could go so far so fast.”

“No,” insisted Monica. “You can’t think that. I’m married, remember?”

“Yes, of course,” continued Cole. “Which is what makes it all so crazy. I thought I’d be able to woo you away from your husband, or at least slowly get you to look my way, maybe something developing, maybe not. I didn’t know. You know those kinds of feelings, right? So irrational, but you can’t deny they exist. I was just living in some fantasy, and then you showed up with dinner and, well, you know the rest.”

“But, it wasn’t supposed to happen like that,” broke in Monica, her mind confused by all of the wrong words and meanings Cole was throwing at her.

“And I agree. I pictured something more romantic, but sometimes things happen that way. I wanted it to be different, but I’m not sorry for what we did. It was beautiful. Wonderful, don’t you think?”

Monica could only shake her head in disbelief. This wasn’t going as it was supposed to. “No,” she finally said. “We weren’t supposed to do any of that.”

“You seemed to enjoy it, at least until you ran off,” Cole’s smiling eyes becoming more quizzical, yet with one leg stretching out to touch hers.

“You got me drunk, with tequila,” Monica shot out, as though accusing him of the worst thing they had done that night.

“Well, you got yourself drunk, Monica. Every time you had a drink, I felt I had to follow. I can’t remember the last time I finished a bottle of wine, and I actually prefer a good brandy to tequila. It was just something June put on the table. One of her jokes, I think.”

“No, you got me drunk,” repeated Monica, her mind and speech and determination being confused and broken apart by Cole and his contradictory thoughts. “We did things. I mean, you did them. You made me do them. You shouldn’t have. I’m married.”

“Well, in your mind, but you could have left at any time. You women, always trying to blame the man, but only because you don’t want to take responsibility for your own actions. You did lots of things to me. You even told me to do some of those things to you. You could have stood up and walked out, maybe thrown a shoe at me. But no, you stayed and did a lot of things on your own. Maybe you think you had no choice, that you were too drunk to decide, but you did decide. And you know what? I’m glad. More than anything I want to be with you, have you sitting here with me. So maybe I’m not sorry at all.”

Monica was more confused than ever. To Cole, it had been a wild romantic interlude. To her, the entire night had been something she wished had never taken place. Yet in her mind she also loved hearing that Cole saw it as a wonderful connection, even expressing some love for her. It was wrong, but also endearing, and it made all the undeniable sex, the undeniably wonderful sex, a little more acceptable in her mind. Which was wrong. Monica didn’t know what to do, or what more to say, and just to do something she stood up and said, “I’ve got to go.”

Cole looked up at Monica’s face, smiling, one hand still holding on to hers. “I understand what you’re feeling Monica. You must be very confused, but there’s no need to be. You know how close we came that night, and how rare such a thing is. Are you sure you must leave me, all alone, turning your back on what we could have?”

Monica couldn’t find her voice, her head still spinning. She was standing but shaking, her lower leg leaning against the edge of Cole’s chair and preventing her from falling to the side.

“What can I say, Monica? Let me only ask one thing of you. You said you would do this for me, but you ran off and left me in the darkness. I understand that. But do this one thing, do what you promised, then kiss me and we can part and I’ll never show up on your doorstep or bother you again.”

Monica again nodded, not really thinking of what Cole was saying, thinking only of leaving but unable to move her feet. That’s when Cole reached out, still sitting in his chair, took her other hand, and brought them up to give them a light kiss. He then pulled down, pulling Monica down into the chair with him.

It was a large chair, one of those big soft lounge chairs men like to sit in when doing nothing around the house. There was plenty of room for Monica’s knees to fit between Cole’s open legs as she kneeled into the soft front edge. She immediately tried to pull back, but Cole leaned up to give her cheek a quick kiss, his hands holding tight to her own. When she didn’t turn her head, he leaned in to give a soft but longer kiss to her lips, with a slight touch of tongue, a little suction, a loving kiss that Monica could only think good of. The man knew how to kiss, knew how to use his lips and tongue, and Monica’s knees weakened as she unintentionally returned his kiss with just a touch of her tongue to his.

Then he brought her hands down to rest on his crotch.

She immediately jerked her hands away, feeling the large hard bulge and knowing all too intimately what rested underneath the pair of jeans. Monica tried to stand, but Cole had placed a hand on her shoulder and her movement only led her knees to slipping off the edge of the chair and down to the area rug that covered most of the room.

With one of Cole’s hands holding Monica’s shoulder in a firm grasp, Monica was frozen in place as she watched Cole do the unmentionable. His free hand had slowly and methodically undone his pants, unbuckling and unzipping the front portion of his jeans. Then Cole again grasped Monica’s hands, pulling them forward to the edge of his pants. “Take a hold Monica. That’s it, grab there and pull back.”

Monica didn’t have the strength in her to pull even if she had wanted to, but Cole’s hands held hers tight and with a rise of his hips the jeans slipped down to his upper thighs. In that instant the large phallic animal that had made up so much of Monica’s many sleepless nights leapt out into the light.

Monica’s vision blurred and she became lightheaded, hyperventilating and feeling confused. She tried to pull back but was again restrained by Cole, one hand pulling her neck and head closer, the other hand holding her shoulder and pulling her chest into the front edge of the chair. Cole’s long pulsing cock was the only thing Monica could see before her.

Against all of her expectations, Cole spoke softly but insistently, never rough, but always sure of what needed to be done. “Monica, baby. You will never know how much I care for you. But do this one last thing for me. You promised you would kiss me, suck on me and drink me. Finish what you said you would do, just this one last thing. I beg of you or my mind will never rest.”

Monica remembered no such promise, but so many things were said and so many unmentionable things done, that Monica just nodded again. Cole leaned down to kiss the top of her head, then pulled one of her hands over to touch the large fat throbbing pole sticking out from within his hairy crotch. “Here. Bring your other hand up to hold me better, Monica. Let me help.”

Of course Cole’s idea of helping was scooting forward on the chair, bringing his crotch closer to Monica’s face, and as one of his hands pulled her head down, his other hand maneuvered the leading tip of his cock to come even with her lips. Without thinking, simply doing what she had always done in such a situation, Monica opened her mouth, and Cole pulled her head down for her lips to take him in.

The next few moments were a blur, Monica finding herself holding onto Cole’s thick brown length with both of her hands as he used one hand to guide her head up and down on the first few inches of his cock. She could hear Cole telling her how good it felt, even asking if he tasted good to her, but mostly she just focused on sucking, then remembering to tongue and use her hands a little, and then repeat.

This went on for only seconds before Cole’s hands suddenly went low to pull up on Monica’s blouse, pulling it out of where it had been tucked into her slacks, up to where he was able to unsnap her bra and feel out her unprotected breasts. Monica objected, trying to pull back, to pull her mouth off of the many inches of flesh that had taken over her mouth, but Cole’s hands returned and held her tight. “Just a feel Monica. No way I’ll be able to enjoy what you’re doing with your mouth if you don’t let me see your tits. You’re so beautiful. Such a hot little girl.”

No matter what Monica wanted, Cole did what he said, pulling her blouse all the way up to under her chin, just under where his cock stretched into her mouth. For the next few minutes she sucked and tongued and gave all her attention and skill to Cole’s hard length of manhood. He whispered out nasty complements about her ability to suck cock, all the while playing his hands over her exposed tits.

As one minute passed into the next, Monica found herself being taken over by the experience, barely listening to Cole’s indecent words yet enjoying the feel of his hands as they played over her bare breasts. At the same time, her slow methodical mouthing of Cole’s leading tip grew to become a wet noisy mouth job of the thick rod Cole’s hips were pushing deeper into her throat.

Part of Monica acted with the hope that if she could get Cole excited enough, he really would come to a quick orgasm and then allow her to return home, shamed and disheveled but with the incident behind her. Yet another part of her was reveling in the experience, her mouth and tongue and hands all working together to give the ultimate in pleasure to the cock and the man she was subject to. At the same time Monica’s head and torso rose up and down, her mouth fucking Cole as much as he was fucking her, her tits rising and falling with her leg action, loving the feel of their play within Cole’s hands. No doubt, this was no simple suck and swallow like what Jim had her do from time to time. This was sex, however you might define it, and Monica was lost within it.

Cole suddenly pulled back on his hips, his hands pushing lightly on Monica’s chest, allowing if not forcing Monica to raise her head and swallow accumulated liquids in her mouth and gulp in some needed air. This also gave her a few seconds to better view Cole’s fat cock. Her many hours of intimacy just a few nights before had largely been in the dark and she hadn’t really been able to get a good look at the large organ Cole had repeatedly ravished her with. Now, in the light, she was able to take in the weird blue veins and odd bumps and indentations that made up the shaft, showing a real contrast to the fat but smooth mushroom-like head that by itself could fill her mouth. Cole allowed a minute for Monica to take in the sight, her mind again wondering how the blunt leading tip had ever made it inside of her. The fact that the thing was throbbing like a live animal also intrigued her, but before Monica could say anything Cole raised a hand from where he held her breasts and pulled her head back down to continue her duties.

Minutes later, just as Monica’s jaw and neck were beginning to ache, Cole told her to stop and pulled back on his hips, pulling the thick length of flesh out of Monica’s mouth. In the moment Monica took to catch her breath and wonder what Cole had in mind, he slid off the chair and down to the side so that he could kneel on the rug next to Monica.

She was already exhausted, wishing she could lay back and relax and let Cole take over and do whatever he wanted to her. Yet as Cole slid down and kneeled next to her, Monica assumed he wanted her to continue, and he didn’t complain when she bent down to take his fat leaking hood into her mouth. Cole caressed her hair for a moment, telling Monica how wonderful it felt to be with her, but then he bent forward, bringing his hands down to unbuckle the belt to her slacks.

Monica felt what he was attempting and quickly pulled back, saying “No. Now wait Cole. We didn’t...” But she got no further. Cole quickly used his size and strength to push down at the hips of her pants, pushing them just over and past Monica’s firm ass. Her only salvation was sitting down on her heels, preventing Cole from pushing them any further.

As Cole paused in his efforts to remove Monica’s slacks, Monica turned her back to the chair and scampered up its padded front, using her hands to pull her up into a sitting position while facing the still kneeling Cole. Monica felt a little smug, thinking she had outmaneuvered the old fox. Almost. In the following seconds Cole smiled and said, “Monica my love. You know how much I need you.” He then bent down to kiss the upper portion of her thighs while using his hand to tug back on her slacks, pulling them almost to her knees. In a twist of movement she hadn’t considered, Cole then ducked under her legs and forced his head up between her white thighs, his rugged face only inches from the thick blond bush that stood as poor protection for her pussy.

Monica attempted a quick backpedal, but in pulling her legs back, the pants that were still stuck around her knees actually pushed Cole’s face inward, inadvertently forcing his nose and mouth into the thick labia and delicate furry curls of her crotch. In the same instant, Cole reached out with his hands, wrapping around her naked tush and pulling Monica’s lightly furred slit into his face. To Monica’s horror this guaranteed a tight if not permanent connection between Cole’s roving tongue and the deep wet valley of pleasure that lay between her open thighs.

Cole wasted no time, his lips wrapping around Monica’s clit, his tongue beginning a furious lapping of the hard little nub while lapping up the juices that were already flowing and ready for him to suck and swallow. For another minute, no matter the minimal struggles of Monica, Cole devoted himself to his duties, only changing his hands in order to move one directly under her ass, one long thick thumb easily pushing deep into her vagina. It was then that Monica stopped her rapid breathing and leaned back into the chair, giving out a low moan and letting Cole know that he shouldn’t stop what he was doing.

Monica became lost in the moment, relishing the skills of the mouth as he drank from her overflowing font, pushing her hips up to invite Cole to continue in his feast. After some minutes, Cole paused in his loud and nasty oral work between her legs, his wet and shiny face peering up at Monica, her face drenched in perspiration, telling her how wonderful she tasted. “Baby. You are so delicious. You should have made me switch with you earlier. And your little pussy is so beautiful. Like the most beautiful little golden mango I have ever seen or tasted.” Here Cole dove back into the thick patch of fur and took a long lick, sucking for another minute on Monica’s clit, before raising his head again to say “You are so delicious. I can never get enough of you.”

Then back for another five minutes of the most nasty display of loud oral loving Monica had ever experienced. Early on she tried to kick her slacks off, finally freeing one leg, then raising her knees and tightening her thighs around Cole’s head. Without thinking Monica began pulling Cole’s head in with one hand as though in fear that he might stop his loving, and finally even began bouncing into the cushion of the chair and up into Cole’s face, fucking his tongue and thumb in a way she had never attempted with any other man. Jim was forgotten. Now there was only the impending crest of lust, desire, and orgasm.

There came the long low moan, the quickening of Monica’s ass bouncing into the front edge of the chair, her legs raised high, and finally a series of sharp loud squeals, one after another. As the orgasm took her over, Monica closed her eyes and felt the visceral bolts of pleasure exploding from her pussy to rise up and short circuit her brain. The pleasure was matched by a demand, that it never stop, that Cole never stop, and Monica locked her legs together around his head, pulling in on Cole’s hair for another few seconds until the overwhelming flashes of joy dissipated. The echoes remained, pulsing through her body, her cunt happy, her mind unable to think of anything else. With the fading ebb of the orgasm Monica suddenly pushed her lover away and rolled to the side, knees together, delirious in her satisfaction.

In her stupor, Monica was only barely aware of what Cole was doing. She found herself sliding down the front edge of the chair, once again in a kneeling position, but this time with her face laying on the seat of the chair. That was fine with her, Monica trying to catch her breath, needing time to relax and enjoy the fading joy of her orgasm. Then she felt Cole’s hands under her hips and thighs, pulling her up, raising her ass a little higher. In just another second, before Monica could even think the thought, Cole moved forward, pressing his hips into her ass and moving his cock between her thighs and through the length of her slit.

Monica had hardly raised her head when she felt the fat bulbous head of Cole’s cock press into and lever apart her vaginal opening. Monica released a loud groan as just that first inch of his battering ram broke through and entered her. Monica attempted to crawl forward, to pull herself off of the intruding pole, but Cole had a tight hold of her, pulling her back, impaling Monica on yet another few inches of his thick male organ. Cole’s hands rose up to take their positions around Monica’s tits, her blouse and bra now just bunched bits of clothing up around her neck.

Then began Cole’s onslaught, laying his chest over Monica’s back and working his long rod slowly into her, patiently filling her until his balls were literally slapping into her thighs. Then a long period of simple fucking, Cole pushing Monica’s hips ever harder into the front of the chair, the thrusts never ending as Cole exercised Monica’s vaginal tunnel and made it his own.

The fuck was relentless, Cole pounding into Monica’s ass, pumping itself just deep enough into her pussy for one fast flash of an orgasm to overtake her and leave Monica breathless. Just after Monica tried to hide her scream of joy in the cushion of the chair, Cole moved one of his restless hands down from where he had been massaging her breasts to the front of her hips, snaking in to push into the front of her slit, then deeper to feel out and begin a new form of massage of her reawakened clitoris. Monica was crushed into the chair by Cole’s relentless back and forth at her rear, her mind focused entirely on the feeling of Cole completely owning her pussy. Her hands holding tight to the chair fabric, she had been giving out short grunts with each of his deep thrusts, these slowly became moans, the pleasure of the long unending fuck taking her over.

That’s when she began fucking back, pressing into the chair and pushing her hips back, as though demanding more from the man who was already giving her so much. As she began slapping her ass backwards, impaling herself on Cole’s equally active cock, Cole said, “Do you like this Monica? Do you want me to stop? I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“No, no” is all Monica could say, gasping out the words as she remained focused on a new rising tide within her.

“Are you sure, baby? Am I forcing you to do this, or do you really want me to keep fucking you? Tell me, Monica.”

Trying to catch her breath, Monica could only gasp out “Yes. Fuck me. Don’t you dare stop.”

Then things changed, Cole pulling back, sitting back on his heels and pulling Monica back with him, dragging her out of the chair and onto his lap. One hand was still wrapped around one breast, the other hand continuing to do wonderful things with her clit, but Cole now sitting back on his heels, pulling Monica down to sit fully upon the entire length of his cock.

“Then show me baby. Show me Monica. Show me you need me to fuck you, that you need to fuck me.” And Monica did, thinking only of her overwhelming need, her awareness of an even greater release and pleasure than the last. With no thought of right or wrong, she began pulling her hips up and pressing down, rocking up and down on Cole’s cock with twice the gusto as before. After a few minutes she varied it a bit, changing to a slow and less deep push down, feeling for just the right sensation. Then the wave rose within her, and to meet it she began another hard pounding of the long hard bone Cole had embedded inside of her.

As the orgasm broke and overwhelmed Monica, she could hear herself screaming out, maybe words, maybe just guttural noises, but all in a display of being lost to the great pleasure then taking her over. She kept pounding back, pounding down with her ass onto the pole that gave so much pleasure, the intense sensation emanating out from her clit, and the wonderful sense of her tits being caressed and loved. It all came together to make for one amazing release, leaving her spent and finished and collapsed back onto Cole’s crotch, her pussy fully impaled on his cock as she leaned into the chair for support.

Monica was hardly aware of Cole’s words, of him saying he was so close, his hands pushing her back up onto the chair, his hips returning to action, his cock continuing to thrust into her and maintain her pleasure. And then the expected feeling of a flood of warmth filling her, Cole’s large torso crushing Monica into the chair as his hot seed erupted out and into her. The ongoing fuck slowed but didn’t stop, Cole grinding into Monica’s ass, his own orgasm taking a long minute to complete before he too collapsed on top of Monica. They remained like that for many minutes, their gasps slowing and becoming normal breaths, Cole finally raising his chest up enough to allow him to bend around and kiss Monica’s cheek. “Monica, baby, you are so precious to me. I don’t know how I’ve been able to live without you.”