An Afternoon Delight

Time after time, Mark would pull back until his cock was almost out, then he give her one or two short, quick stabs before slowly sinking it back as deep as he could.

All the while Jackie was moaning such things as, "Oooohhhh, Mark, that's so good," and "Yes, yes, right there," and such nothings as lovers have muttered since the beginning of time. With each stroke their excitement built until neither could take it a minute longer.

Jackie felt herself begin to cum just before Mark pulled her tightly against his body and just held her there. Then she felt the throbbing cock, jumping and pumping shot after shot into her abused pussy. They remained like that, frozen in place while their passion faded, and she could feel their juices running down her leg.

Finally they broke apart and started cleaning up, as best they could, with the box of tissues behind Mark's desk. She kissed him before hurrying out, "Sorry about running so soon, but I need to call my Mom. It's her birthday and I've missed her celebration again."

Mark sat long after she'd left. 'Damn!' he thought, 'why do I do it? She's not even as good a fuck as Courtney, I feel lousy now that it's over, I certainly don't love her, and yet here I am, risking my home, my marriage and everything I really love for just a couple minutes of strange pussy. What the hell's wrong with me? I got to knock this shit off.'

Mark's conscience was still nagging him when he unlocked his front door and yelled, "Honey, I'm home."

There was no answer, so he walked through the house calling her name. The house was empty, but he did find a message on the answering machine. He punched the play button.

"Hey Hon, the kids are spending night with Mom and Dad. I'm with Janet and a couple other girls. We got to drinking and gossiping and decided to we'd have dinner together, Not sure how long I'll be, but it won't be too late. Good time for you to order some Chinese since you like it so much and I don't. Love Ya, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Too damn late for that, Honey. I already did something you wouldn't do, but I damn sure ain't gonna do it again.

*****

A month earlier—which would have been about two weeks after her first encounter with Chance, Courtney was going through a rough spot trying to reconcile her behavior that afternoon with Chance to the picture she had of herself—the 'Good Girl' who was always faithful. When alone she'd swear to hold to the straight and narrow, but her friendship with Janet turned out to be an anchor pulling her back into deeper water.

Janet had met a new guy, while her fiancé, Tom, was working out of town, and to hear her tell it, he was a real stud. Every time she and Courtney got together, she'd extol the virtues getting strange sex. "I'm telling you, Cor, you don't know what you're missing. I mean, I really like Tom, but this new guy—he's unbelievable. I mean I just thought I'd been fucked before, but my new guy—Whooo Weee! Man! But does that big cock fill me up. He touches places never touched before."

"Does this new paragon of sex have a name?"

"Yeah, but if I told you, I'd have to kill you. I'm not steering any other woman his way—not even you, and I still consider you my best friend."

"Thanks a Lot!" Courtney laughed, but it wasn't very humorous. "Anyway, Mark takes very good care of me, thank you."

"If Mark's the only guy you ever had, how do you know? I still say you owe it to yourself to try it just once." Janet was the type to want a partner in crime, regardless of what the crime was. She continued to urge Courtney to cheat on Mark, 'just to see how good it feels,' not that she'd ever leave Mark.

Courtney continued to ignore her friend's urging, but she wasn't immune to the idea of 'trying a bit of strange'. For weeks the thought banged around in her head, for weeks she insisted to herself that she wasn't a cheater—and yet the thought wouldn't go away. 'It really isn't cheating if all I do is flirt, is it?'

So she started hanging out at the Golden Slipper almost every afternoon; and at least three or four times a week Chance would drop in. True to her intentions, she only flirted; it started very innocent at first, just a little risqué talk, some off color jokes—things like that.

Then came the afternoon Chance pushed into the same side of the booth, instead of sitting across from her. His thighs burned into her flesh when he sat really close and his fingers played over her face, twisted her hair, and brushed against her erect breast. A sharp intake of breath greeted that step up in his pursuit of Courtney, and when he wrapped his hands in her hair and gently pulled her face toward his she didn't resist. Her lips met his and they enjoyed a deep, passionate kiss, before she finally came back to her senses.

"I...I, I gotta go," she mumbled, grabbing her bag and rushing out. That night she had Mark's favorite dinner waiting for him when he got home. After dinner Mark was horny as a hog and what with her still feeling guilty about flirting with Chance, she put a loving on him that rocked his world, but somehow she never did quite get into it; for the first time in their married life, she faked an organism.

Following that night, her resolve to stay on the straight and narrow faded, and the next few weeks she found herself dressing sexier and sexier and doing all she could to tease Chance when they met at the Golden Slipper. The back booth started being called Courtney's Place by the bartenders. In there, out of plain sight from other customer, they acted like a couple of teenagers who were just starting to explore their sexuality.

Always sitting side by side on the bench that allowed them to see anyone who approached their little nook, she played the shy girl, pretending she'd never do anything liked "that," yet all the while allowing Chance to feel her up and sneak kisses, while she protested that she was a married woman.

Courtney always insisted they break it off in time for her to beat Mark home and fix dinner. Unfortunately this episode in their lives occurred during a time when Mark was under a lot of stress at work, and most nights if they even tried to make love, the results were unexciting to say the least. Night after night, Courtney would lay beside her sleeping husband, an unsatisfied woman losing her resolve to remain faithful.

'It wouldn't be like this with Chance,' she thought. I bet he'd never leave me hanging like this.' After a couple weeks of this, she'd had enough; she was going to give strange a try.

The next afternoon, dressed in a red wrap-around skirt and a white blouse about two sizes too little, she turned the heads of every old guy, as she sashayed back to Courtney's Place where Chance was already waiting.

*****

Chance almost strangled on his beer, when he spotted the sex kitten walking toward him. 'Whoo, Boy! He thought, 'this ain't the shy Courtney anymore. This is a woman who's ready for adventure and I'm just the guy to show it to her. Yes, sir, I'll put another trophy on my wall today.'

"Lordy girl, you look good enough to eat." He said aloud, while thinking, 'and I'm planning to do just that.' He stood and kissed her hand. Seating her on the inside so she would be against the wall, something she usually didn't do, he slid over until she was pressed against him so tight she could hardly move.

"Hey! Where's my drink?"

"Oh crap, I'm so dazzled by your beauty, I forgot my manners. Be just a minute." He slid out of the booth and strolled to the bar. He wanted time to think. Earlier, he had split one of the little greenish ovals that his friend had assured him wouldn't hurt a woman, but would get her "in the mood." Should he or shouldn't he? The question nagged at his brain as he walked even slower, stalling for more time to decide. 'What the hell, I'm only giving her half—let's see what happens.'

Having made his decision, he ordered another Bud Lite and a Rum and Coke, a little heavy on the rum, please, instead of her normal coke. She always worried about going home tipsy, so she usually held off on the alcohol until later in the afternoon, limiting herself to only one or two at the most. If things went according to his plans, she wouldn't have to worry about going home drunk. Dropping his little present in her drink while the bartender went to serve another customer, he waited for it to dissolve before walking back to their booth.

"A little something special for my special girl." He handed her the drink before pushing her back into the seat just as tightly as he had been before he left. Almost as soon as he sat back down his fingers began to roam, but unlike other times, she didn't try to pretend she didn't like it.

His hand that had been resting on Courtney's knee, inched its way north, the fingers continually rubbing little circles on her inner thighs. When they reached the sheer material covering her labia, they darted underneath it only to find her lips were slick and welcoming.

Courtney moaned and gave a little shiver as his middle finger slid inside her, searching for her g-spot. "Not here," she groaned. It seemed it took forever for Chance to get the check, and every minute, while he signaled for their waiter to bring the check, his other hand was stroking her special place.

From the Golden Saddle to Chance's place was at least a ten minute ride. The top of Chance's red Corvette convertible was down, and Courtney was as close to him as the bucket seats would allow. Her legs were spread wide to allow that magic finger to continue its stroking her pussy, even though their route took them right through the main part of town, with traffic lights.

Chance's finger was really feeling good, she was squirming, trying to encourage him to hit the right spot, and then she happened to realize a pick-up with oversized tires and loud mufflers had pulled up at the stop light beside them. Its lone occupant, a young redneck was leaning out his window, trying to get a better look.

"We got an audience," She tried to push Chance's hand away, without luck, and to be truthful, those stroking fingers felt so good, she didn't try very hard.

"We'll lose that asshole. Dumb hick thinks that ragged old truck can stay with my Corvette—we'll show him." Chance stomped on the juice causing the little red car to lay rubber across the intersection and beyond—the only problem was—the old pick-up had him by half a car length at the next light, and Chance still had his fingers in Cortney's pussy, and the redneck was still leaning out his windows looking, but this time he was laughing also.

"Guess 'yo' car ain't as hot as 'yo' woman, Boy." Courtney was shocked to realize she really liked his thick southern drawl, even under such embarrassing circumstances. She shot him a smile when he said, "Yall be good now, and 'doan' do anything I wouldn't do." At the light change the pickup tore away, while a camouflaged arm waved until it was out of sight.

"Wonder what the hell he has in that thing," Chance muttered, as he continued on his way while making sure not to neglect the pussy he still had a fingers hooked in. They arrived at his place, a ranch style on two acres; the entire thing was surrounded by shrubs so high and thick they provided almost complete privacy, but he pulled directly into the carport and closed the door before coming around to open the door for Courtney.

Scooping her up, he carried her over the threshold and on back to the bedroom, without stopping. Courtney nestled in his arms, her own wrapped around his neck and about every third step she pulled his lips to hers, her tongue trying to slip into his sexy mouth. It had no success.

"Just one more minute till we get to the bed—then you'll get all the loving you can handle." He was about to get winded, the macho thing of dragging your woman to his bed seemed smart at the time, and while Courtney wasn't overweight by any means, she was a full grown woman, not a skinny teenager, and it was a long way from the carport to the bedroom. By the time he stepped through his bedroom's door, he was relieved that he wasn't going to make an idiot of himself by having to let her walk the rest of the way.

Laying Courtney on the bed gently—well as gently as still possible, considering how his arms ached—he bent until their faces were only inches apart. "I keep my promise," he said, as his lips captured hers. Her mouth tasted like the wine she's been drinking, mixed with taste of a horny woman.

When Courtney locked her arms around his neck to pull him closer, her lips flattened against his teeth, her tongue explored his pearly whites, and from some distant source, she tasted something minty, maybe he'd been chewing gum.

His fingers found her nipples, and even through the filmy material of her blouse and bra, she felt the tingle in her pussy when he rotated them between thumb and forefinger. That only satisfied for so long.

"Take it off," she moaned, trying to sit so he could. She lifted both hands over her head, bringing back memories of before Mark, when she and one of her many boyfriends made good use of the spacious back seats still available in the cars of that day. The cool air felt good drifting across her naked breast, making her nipples push out from her dark brown aureoles.

Chance enjoyed the view a few moments, but it got too much for him. Lowering his mouth to her inviting tips, he kissed first one and then the other. The gentle kissing and teasing morphed into his lips grasping each and tugging like a dog playing take-away with his favorite rag. He loved the way he could make the hard little peaks enlarge.

With each tug on a nipple, Courtney felt like a shock hit her pussy. She started trying to lift his shirt. Each inch she raised it revealed more of his muscular chest clad in thick curly black hair. She couldn't resist running her fingers through it, but she finally got him naked from the waist up. 'My,' she thought, 'you're really built and if what I felt when we danced is all you, I'm thinking you're pretty good down there too.'

"Entirely too many clothes." Chance was grinning as he stood, sliding his pants and boxers down with one deft motion. Courtney stared, dumbfounded. His cock bobbed about, its purple head dripping a clear liquid as he pushed it toward her lips. Blow jobs were not one of her favorite things—but 'what the hell, she thought. 'When in Rome, do as the Romans.'

Her extended tongue slid under his glans and swirled its way three hundred sixty degrees. She caught a whiff of his musky odor and tasted the slightly salty flavor of the pre cum now oozing from Mr. One Eye.

"I don't do deep throat." She kept him from shoving his big cock too far in her mouth with one hand while her other stroked his hairy sac, gently kneading the tight balls they enclosed.

"Oh god, that's good, Baby." He moaned and tried to hump her face, but she was adamant.

Breaking contact, she warned him. "In this, it's my way or the highway. You are not sticking that thing down my throat."

"Why not, Baby?"

"Throats were made for eating, not fucking." She turned her attention back to the thick cock that was throbbing in her hand, and this time Chance went with her lead.

"Lordy, girl, you know something about sucking a dick, even if you only use a few inches." He sounded like he was almost out of breath. "I can't hold out much longer, Baby. Where do you want it?"

Courtney didn't bother to answer. She felt his balls swell slightly, his cock began to throb, and she slipped her lips completely around his crown, sealed her mouth as best she could and increased the speed of stroking the shaft. She could tell when he hit the point of no return; working her tongue around in the confined space as best she could, she received spurt after spurt of his warm sticky sperm. She was surprised that it tasted a bit like cinnamon.

As they lay side by side, Chance enjoying the warm afterglow of a very satisfying sexual experience and Courtney reflecting on the gravity of what she'd just done, when their breathing returned to normal, she asked, "Do you eat a lot of cinnamon?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Your cum tastes like cinnamon."

"No kidding. Well it's time for me to see what you taste like." She giggled like a teenager when he rolled her over on her back and started kissing her mouth. "Humn, it does taste a little like cinnamon. Or maybe it's just that sweet mouth of yours I taste and not my own cum.

Courtney giggled, "You're nuts, you know that?" She softly stroked his half erect cock. "We gotta get this thing back in working order." Circling his glans with her tongue did the trick. When it had reached its full potential, she deftly threw a leg over his body and guided his cock to her slick labia. With the head exploring her thick black pubic hair, pushing and probing between the lips, she reached down to help it find the weak spot of her body's defenses.

She felt the head start to slip inside, so aided by the profuse lubrication seeping from her excited pussy she dropped her full weight down on his erect cock and felt it push its way in until their curly hairs were rubbing together. At that point, she ceased moving her hips and leaned forward to explore his mouth with her tongue, causing her free hanging breast to press against Chance's chest.

"Oh shit, but that's good," Chance moaned when she finally lifted herself enough for him to clamp her nipple with his lips and tug it. That drove Courtney into action.

Lifting her hips until he was barely housed, she slowly slipped back down until once again he was fully embedded.

"Oh Baby, those nice long strokes feel so good," Chance tried to work his hips in rhythm with her. In doing so, he grasped a cheek in each hand and encouraged her to wiggle as he pulled her tightly against him.

Courtney had her eyes closed and in her mind she was in a clear blue ocean; an ocean whose waves were lifting her on their crests before allowing her to slide gently down into the trough. The waves started coming closer together as her body took over from her mind, and she increased the pace.

Faster and faster she slammed up and down on the hard cock, her eyes still closed and the scene playing in her head changed from a gentle tropic ocean to an angry gray surf, sort of like that seen on the approach of a hurricane so common to her Carolina home. In no time, it seemed, the storm washed over her, leaving her sated. She could feel, the honey of their lovemaking leaking from her body, coating her lover's cock and continuing to drip down her butt cheeks and onto the sheets.

"Wow, that was wonderful," she said, after catching her breath.

As they lay there, basking in the warm afterglow, a nagging thought pulled on Courtney's conscience. "I better go." She started to rise from the bed, but Chance held onto her and started kissing on her nipples again.

"You don't have to go just yet," he cajoled. "We have time for one more, don't we?"

One look at that 'little boy who just dropped his ice cream cone' expression on Chance's face and she wasn't pulling as hard as she had been. "At least let me call and leave a message. I don't want Mark worrying about me."

"Okay, and while you're doing that, I'll fix us another drink." Chance left the room to fix their drinks while she dialed home.

'Looks like a half pill wasn't enough to completely win over "Little Miss Faithful Slut,"' he thought as he added the other half in her glass and waited for it to dissolve. He walked back into the bedroom just as Courtney put the phone back in its charger.

Sitting on the bed, side by side, they finished their drinks while Chance told her how beautiful she was and how if she was his woman, he'd never let work interfere with their getting it on. Actually he was trying to give the pill chance to work before making another move. He didn't want to scare her off, and finally, when she had to go potty, she seemed a bit unsteady. When she returned, he put on a full court press.