Mandy

Mandy Stevenson hated the gym, not the gym itself just the agony of having to perform the grueling regimen day after day, week after week, consuming what seemed like all of her free time. A hectic schedule as a sales representative for a cosmetic company, deadlines, sales quotas, and the pressures of family life weighed heavily on her, so heavily that she had begun to skip workouts from time to time, and didn't feel guilty about it at all. Today was just such a day; but to her credit she steeled her nerve and made her way to the dressing room, changed into her workout clothes and started warming up before the aerobics class began. Mandy worked out five times a week; every other day was an aerobic day, in between were weight lifting days devoted to certain trouble spots of her body. Being thirty five years old meant staving off gravity and enhancing her already good genes, but it was hard work.

Mandy was married to John Stevenson, an attorney for a small law firm. They were quite happy and seldom disagreed on anything important. John understood Mandy's drive to maintain her attractive looks and supported her in her professional career. Both maintained long office hours and worked at least part of the weekends if not most of them. This arduous lifestyle suited them fine; most of their friends were also business associates, and they had no children to distract them from their work. Over the years, as they delved into their careers more and more, home life and most especially sex was relegated to pedestrian status: Routine only on holidays and the odd long weekend. This is what brings us to Mandy's current predicament.

As she finished her stretching and joined the other tortured souls forming up for class, she caught sight through the large glass window of the exercise room of a young man, twenty-something, working on a weight machine in the adjacent weight room. Her class began and she realized she had been staring and missed the opening steps; hurrying she joined in the movements, hoping that no one had noticed her distraction. As the class went on Mandy's eyes followed the young man from machine to machine, barely conscious of her intention to do so, but intent just the same. When the aerobics class began to warm down, and Mandy had an unobstructed view of the young man, she marveled quietly to herself that his lean muscular frame was nearly perfect in proportion.

He was working on the trap-pull-down exercises that made each muscle in his back flex and roll as his arms were pulled to his side then extend back above his head. She stood transfixed as he repeated the exercise, and each time she would flush with the warmth of exhilaration, as her eyes followed the beads of sweat as they traced their way downward, searching a trail down each perfectly defined crevice in his back, disappearing in shadow of his lower torso that stood in stark contrast to the bulging knots of flesh above. A primal urge erupted as Mandy felt a bead of sweat on her abdomen run inexorably along her pubic hair and across her clitoris sending a shockwave of intense sensation through her as though she were electrocuted. Mandy broke from her trance and hurried to the dressing room, changed and left the gym forcing herself not to look back for the young man.

Arriving home after eight had been usual for an aerobic night, John seldom came home before ten o'clock himself. Mandy ran a bath, grabbed her sales brochures and settled back to soak and read, but she couldn't concentrate and soon found her thoughts returning to the young man's image as she gently placed a finger to the soft folds between her legs and gingerly tried to persuade the clitoris to repeat the sensation she had experienced in the gym earlier. But try as she might, her manual stimulation failed to excite the requisite response. Disappointed, she finished her bath and completed her evening grooming routine.

With so little time to spare Mandy often did her laundry as time allowed and started a small load, while she nursed a small glass of wine. She was wandering through the hallway when she heard the spin cycle start and a devious thought ran through her mind, she recalled as a girl how she had sat on her mother's washing machine imagining what an orgasm with a boy was like as the machine vibrated her into ecstasy. She turned and went back to the wash room, pressed her mound to the corner of the rapidly vibrating machine and strained to remember the young man once again. In seconds her brow was beaded with sweat her pulse was racing and the vibrations were producing the desired stimulation, her mind grasped at the image of her young man, her hands following the beads of sweat as they mingled with his muscular frame, she was reaching for the bulge she imagined was there in his shorts, her climax was close, he was calling her name

"Mandy…Mandy,"

"Yes," she moaned under her breath. Then again,

"Mandy, where are you?"

Mandy froze. The voice she had heard was John's, not her imagination, "Yes…I'm in the wash room." She called out, quickly trying to compose herself, her heart betraying her effort as it pounded out its staccato pulse in her breast. Her face was flush with the excitement and the embarrassment of having come so close to being caught masturbating. But for her chagrin, John was none the wiser and just began his shower, and readied for bed.

Mandy lay still upon the bed awaiting her husband, one recurring thought obsessing her unrequited mind; her young man's image delivering her an orgasm, the orgasm she desperately needed now, 'god was John going to take all night' she wondered. And then he was there, unaware of her agitated state of arousal. He slid between the sheets, reached for the light beside the bed, flicked the switch off, and darkness consumed them.

As lust fires roared through Mandy, melting her muscles, she reached for John's pajamas. A curling line of fine light brown hair arrowed down from his navel and began to spread just as it was covered by the elastic of his pajama bottoms. Gripping the waist band between her thumb and forefinger, Mandy ran it down over the bulge of his cock which lay flaccid, nestled between his thighs.

"Hey, what's the idea, I have to work early tomorrow?" John complained. Excitement over what was to come was roaring through her as she shoved his pajamas down around his calves, then knelt to help him get his feet free of the pants. Right in front of her face was his powerful cock. A few curling strands of his pubic bush had swathed around the shaft giving it a gift wrapped appearance.

As she knelt at his feet, Mandy looked up at him, her hazel eyes glittering with excitement. With feathery, delicate fingers she stroked the now rapidly stiffening tower of his prick. The cords of muscle in John's throat stood out with the strain as he combed his fingers through Mandy's curling hair.

Deliberately taunting John, Mandy tickled the sensitive skin on the insides of his strong thighs. She pushed back between his thighs, her fingers gently lifting and weighing the ovoid, sperm-heavy masses of his testicles. She saw his belly ripple with excitement from her bold explorations.

The first Mandy saw of that hard rod was its curving, bulbous head-just the tip of it-just its shy slit. She pulled the top of his pajamas that still obscured his man-meat, exposing more and more of his cock, the white pinkish cap of the glans, the groove under it, and the special sensitive wedge on the underside where the groove curved upward toward the slit, like the top curve of a valentine. Then she was exposing the pale shaft with its soft skin and the bulging ridges of its veins that slid over the hard, hot core. And behind that ready, erect phallus, like an artistic backdrop, were the dark blond, almost brown curls of his pubic hair.

The shaft of John's cock rose steadily, until it was aimed straight at Mandy's face. Without flinching away from it, she exposed his balls in their wrinkled dark sac nestling between his hairy thighs. She licked her lips at the sight of such a demanding cylinder of turgid meat, but that wasn't what she wanted this time. She didn't want a heavy bulk hammering down her throat. She needed it in her already streaming vagina.

Wrapping her fingers around the hot, hard cock, she fondled the rock-hard tower, feeling the skin shift over the unyielding core, and measured the tenseness there. She looked down at it greedily. Its curving cap was aimed now at the soft swell of her belly, as if ready to fuck her in the belly button.

John reached around her arms and fingers as she fondled his erection. Mandy had to let go of John's cock when he moved between her tanned, sleek legs. Then he slid his hands up the backs of her legs to her buttocks and hauled her hips forward into his face. His nose bored into the tangle of her pubic bush and jammed into the hot folds of her pussy.

Mandy sucked in her breath involuntarily as John's tongue speared into the searing heart of her sex. Her head rolled as passion flamed through her from the unexpected oral assault on her vagina and clitoris. She sprawled backwards on the rumpled covers of the bed, spreading her legs open to expose her crotch. She knew he could see the excited pink lips of her pussy through the dark bush of hair. Her breasts stood, proud, pale and firm as she lay on her back.

And she had feasted her eyes on John's stocky, powerful frame. As he had moved over her his cock had bobbed and weaved, drooling its own excitement. A shining drop was suspended by a glittering strand that stretched and stretched and finally broke, letting the heavy drop fall.

Then he had been on her and into her warm, receptive vagina, and that wayward vision of her nameless young man had flashed through Mandy's mind. Why here and now did she have to see that? Why here and now, with John's cock sunk in her streaming vagina did she have to fight down memories of her imagined lover's face, of his tall, muscular body? Her imagination filled in what she was uncertain of-the curling brown bush and the jutting cock that she had only imagined.

Then John's pelvis collided with hers and the vision in Mandy's mind was obliterated by a fiery blast of pleasure. Her clitoris was mangled between their bodies, converted to a nova-knot of heat that flared out through her body, knotting her muscles and bringing a grunt from her lungs. John pistoned his cock in her guts and her hips answered with twisting jumps of their own. His body felt rough and harsh against her tender skin. Lust raged through her.

John thought that for a second, just a second, as he had penetrated her vagina with his cock Mandy had frozen. For a fleeting moment her body had gone limp and unresponsive under him as the hot folds of her vagina had enfolded his prick. But then, before he could worry about it or respond, she was alive under him, her body writhing and moving to accept him as he plumbed her depths. The feel of her tight vagina embracing his big phallus was enough to obliterate all thought about the incident. All his attention was concentrated on the feel of her firm body against his, on the engulfing of his prick by her clinging, slick, wet folds.

Pushing up, he watched her features. They still harbored a trace of her work-out-flushed appearance, and twisted with passion as he pistoned his prick in her tender belly. Then he lowered himself on her again and they writhed together ecstatically and relished the feel of their flesh, squirming against each other's bodies.

Mandy's hips took on a life of their own as she tightened her vagina around the cock pistoning in it. Her hips jerked and jumped as primitive reflexes came to life from the skillful screwing. Four-letter words were streaming from her lips as she urged John on, clawing at his back, spurring his buttocks with her heels as she spread her thighs still more widely in an attempt to get more of him in her belly.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted mindlessly as he hammered his penis into her guts. "I'm going to cum, so fuck me, you horny bastard. Fuck that big hard cock of yours into me."

John saved his breath for the powerful drives of his hips that rammed his erect phallus deep into her guts. The fire was building deep in his groin, the juices pooling in the firing chamber and the muscles cocking themselves to pump hot semen into Mandy's hole.

"I'm cum-cumm-cumm-cumming," Mandy rasped in a harsh blast of air, a whispering gust of sheer lust as fire seared through her young body. And then, unbidden, flaring up in her mind's eye, was the face of her imaginary lover, his eyes laughing at her as she climaxed.

John was beyond caring what the woman under him was thinking about. He was ramming his cock deep into her vagina, stuffing her with his bulk. Fiery shots of semen ripped down the length of his shaft while his whole body convulsed and added power to the blasts. He poured his hot sticky load deep into her guts, his muscles straining against hers as he fought to skewer her completely on his prick.

The quivering, straining knot held for a long moment, and then they both relaxed simultaneously. Mandy was pinned like a bug under John's bulk, her slender, feminine arms around his big, masculine torso, her graceful legs entwined with his strong, hairy limbs. His pale buttocks were nestled between her slender thighs.

A slight frown wrinkled the smooth skin of Mandy's forehead as she nestled her chin on John's shoulder and stroked his back tenderly. She felt his cock slowly shrinking in her, retreating from her depths, leaving a hot, sticky pool in her vagina.

"What brought that on, honey?" John implored.

Mandy rolled over facing away from him and said "I love you John, Good night."

***

The following day was a hellish nightmare for Mandy; she was exhausted from the sexual exertion of the night before and was trying desperately to accomplish her daily duties. As time for her workout neared she found herself looking forward, expectantly, to going to the gym. She arrived early, and changed clothes, and began her warm up routine. As this was a weight lifting night her warm up was done with light weights in the weight room. She was casually going through the sets when he came in. She had been watching for him and now was thrilled to see him finally arrive.

He moved gracefully to a machine on the opposite side of the room from where Mandy was working. She had to peer over and around other machines and people to keep him in view. She managed to bump into several people attempting to watch him, annoying them to no end. As her own work out came to and end she took an open machine directly in front of the leg extension machine he was working on. He had just started this set of exercises and Mandy was entranced with the smooth, even movements as he effortlessly moved the weight with his legs.

And then, as if by accident she saw the bulge perched upon the crotch of his shorts, as they stretched across his thighs, straining from the force as the thick muscles pressed together, forcing everything between them upward into a lewd perch atop his lap. She felt flush instantly, and swooned from the graphic display of his manhood, fainting for a moment she caught herself before she fell, but not before she released the weight she was pretending to lift, it clanged loudly against the machine, a resounding report echoed off the walls announcing to all that she had lost control. Everyone stopped to look at her, but her uncomfortable glance was for her young man, he smiled a knowing smile and her heart fluttered, she ran to the dressing room, gathered her things and departed as rapidly as she could.

Waiting for John to come home was pure agony. Time dragged on anxiously for Mandy. What was John to think of her? What was she to do if not with her husband? She couldn't cheat, or had she already cheated? These thoughts ran through her mind incessantly as she tried to understand the effect the young man had had on her. She did so adore him. But she hadn't acted on any impulse to approach him. She had committed an act of voyeuristic infidelity, but was that wrong; just looking, watching him? Mandy began to cry, and was sullen when, at last, John came home. He hadn't quite made it into the foyer when Mandy was upon him.

"Mandy," He exclaimed, "I've had an impossible day today. Can we hold off the sex until the weekend?"

Kneeling humbly in front of her husband, Mandy helped him out of his shoes and socks, then hauled his pants and underpants off. That done, she sat back on her heels, her gaze fastening again on his erect prick as it bobbed in front of her face. She knew he was staring down at her and sat with her back very straight to make her breasts, with their pert pink caps, stand out proudly. She knew he was looking between her sleek thighs at the dark mass of her pubic hair.

Slowly and tantalizingly, she spread her legs to let him see a little more of the secret, exciting dark bush. With her arms at her sides, she posed deliberately for him for a long exciting time. His cock swelled and pulsed with desire for her in visible confirmation of her power over him.

Then she broke the pose to reach forward and place her hands on his hairy thighs. She ran her hands upward, directly toward the goal of her desire. Her thumbs dipped between his legs, slipped between his scrotum and the insides of his thighs to dandle and massage his balls in their dark sac, then press inward and upward against the base of his cock.

She gripped the foundation of his powerful erection, steadying the towering pole bobbing in front of her face. She lifted it as she leaned to ward him. Spearing her tongue out, she tasted the hot metallic juice oozing from the slit of his hard prick. She licked at the rounded knob, bathed it with her tongue. Then she licked the shaft, moving slowly downward toward the base along the underside of the warm, rock-hard rod.

Lapping happily she bathed his entire cock with her tongue as if it were a popsicle. When the entire length of his phallus gleamed with her saliva, she took the head between her lips. Sucking eagerly, she spitted her head on his power-laden cock as tangible proof of her limitless devotion to him. She felt his hands on her head, relished the sensation of his fingers tangling in her thick, dark hair as she sucked his cock.

But this wasn't the way it was going to be, not this time. She wasn't going to take her husband's load of steaming, thick semen in her stomach; she was going to have it poured into her vagina. Spitting his cock out, she drew back and struggled to her feet, drug him to the bedroom. Deliberately, slowly, her legs shaking with lust, she backed away from him toward the bed. She lay back on the mattress, her legs spread, and her knees bent, giving him an unhindered view of her gleaming slit. Sliding her hands up her sleek, tan torso, she tormented her own pale breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples.

From halfway across the room she could see the hot gleam of lust in her husband's eyes. She relished the twitching cords of muscle that stood out in his throat as he resisted the urge to pounce on her. She licked her lips with excitement at the sight of still another ready drop of lubricant oozing from his cock.

Fire was lashing through John's body as he stood in the center of the room staring at his wife. He felt twenty feet tall as he towered over her, his eyes feasting on her nude voluptuous beauty. Her body was a picture of wanton lust, painted in shades of tan and white and pink and dark brown. She was spread on the squalid mattress like a sacrifice on an altar. His cock felt ready to explode as he admired the graceful curves and hollows of his wife.

"God, you are gorgeous," he whispered hungrily.

"Come," she ordered softly. She slid one hand down her belly, combed her fingers into her dark hairy vee, pressed one finger into the top of her slit, and then pried her hairy labia open to expose her hot, shining, pink inner recesses. "Come."