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Markies First Solo Adventure

Pages: 1

Like many couples in the Lifestyle, my husband and I have all our adventures together. We feel there is something ugly about secret infidelities, and we have always had difficulty understanding when they happen among our "vanilla" friends. It is especially discomforting when it happens within couples who would excellent candidates for swinging, but they refuse to admit to themselves that they would like to open their relationships a little bit. For fear they would have to be honest with themselves and their partners about their desires, they end up doing something stupid that destroys their relationship.

We have also acknowledged that there may be temptation out there for both of us. My husband is a very successful man. His great looks, warm personality and sense of humor, not to mention his yacht, and his Mercedes convertible, and the way he wears his success like a favorite comfortable jacket, mean there is no shortage of attention from attractive women of every age, even if it's for the wrong reason.

Even though I have recently crossed over the border into my early forties, I have been blessed by excellent genetics and a lifestyle that keeps me fit. Most people believe that I'm in my late thirties and assume that my husband robbed the cradle. I'm five-foot seven, weigh 130 pounds, have very long slender legs and wear a 36F bra to support the best gift my mother ever gave me. I work to keep myself fit, and feel blessed (and somewhat embarrassed at times) at the amount of attention I receive from men of every age. Men are, by and large, helpless victims of curiosity when it comes to an attractive well-dressed businesswoman with large breasts.

To makes matters more interesting, I operate as a sales executive in one of the most male-dominated markets that exists anywhere in the U.S. Of the hundreds of executives in my industry, one can count the female executives with the position of vice-president or above on one hand nationwide.

The problem with most of that attention is that it comes from men in whom I would never have any interest. Executive engineers, self-appointed entrepreneurial playboys, a few married men who are very unhappy at home and foolish enough to risk everything for just one night of sexual release are the norm. None of those qualify as my type and I simply act like I don't understand their silly-ass double entendre innuendos.

There are a few very attractive men in the business, and most of them are either happily married to women who understand what they have, or too young and ridiculous to be considered of any real interest. In fact there are about three who border on male model material, but their youth makes them far too unpredictable, perhaps even scary. They are not the kind of people who I would trust with my reputation. So, for me, business trips and national convention attendance is devoted to business, and some pleasant after-hours socializing.

I was enjoying some of that after-hours socializing, sitting with a small group of associates, when I heard my text message signal. I grabbed my cell phone from my purse. It was about that time of the evening when my honey likes to text message me to see if I'm busy, or whether it's a good time to call and tell me he loves me and "Goodnight." I opened the phone expecting one of his cute, imaginative messages. Contrary to my expectations I read the text message from a number shown as "private" which read, "Are u busy? Do u think we could go somewhere talk private?"

I stared at the message, really confused, and more than a little bit pissed. How dare someone ask for a "private talk" and not even let me know who was sending me the message. I quickly responded, "I don't do privates, only colonels and above." Take that, you jerk. "Who is this?"

I waited for a reply, it didn't come. I mumbled "asshole" under my breath and slipped my cell back into my purse. I resumed my conversation with the men at my table, and in about five minutes heard my text message signal. Reaching into my purse I flipped open my cell phone and hit the inbox key.

The text message read, "Please turn your attention to the bar for a moment." The sender was still marked as private. I was starting to get angry, and that is not pretty. I spun around a little in my chair and looked toward the bar. There were about 14 people at the bar all with their backs to me, except one.

It was one of the male model candidates I mentioned earlier. I had known him for about three years, and we had worked together on a number of projects. Carson had just turned thirty, I remembered his birthday party. He was about six-foot-three. He had one of those bodies that was just muscular enough to indicate he worked out regularly, but trim enough to still look very stylish in a double-breasted suit. I had frequently noticed his very strong arms and hands, his perfect chiseled face, his dark slightly curly hair, and his Newman-blue eyes. I had felt drawn to him physically many times before, and he had always been very sweet and very attentive, but I had always dismissed it as ass kissing on his part. As my eyes met his he smiled broadly, and gave me one of those inane chest-high waves. At the very moment he waved I felt a slight tingle between my legs. "That's ridiculous," I thought to myself. "Maybe I need to shave or something."

Another text message followed immediately. "Can you break away?" I simply threw the phone back in my purse. After about five my minutes of conversation, I heard the signal again. One of the men I was sitting with said, "My, aren't we popular tonight?" I smiled, opened the phone to read, "When could you break away?"

I quickly typed, "I'm busy, not now," hit the send button and put it back in my purse. The conversation continued for about 45 minutes, and I caught myself looking over toward the bar several times. The last time I looked that way, Carson was gone. "Good!" I thought to myself, that's over."

As I continued to converse with my associates, I caught myself thinking about that gorgeous young man, picturing his blue suit, his sharply pressed white shirt, and the absolutely charismatic way he smiled. While overtly nodding my head in agreement to a salient point brought up by one of the small group seated around the table, for a split second I had a picture pop through my head of bobbing my head up and down on a hard young cock. I mentally slapped myself back to reality and the situation I was currently trying to participate in. I got caught back up to the conversation surrounding me, everything stayed normal for a moment until my mind drifted off mid-sentence and I could actually smell clean young skin and almost feel my tongue flicking across a nipple on a tan muscled chest. "Stop it!" I thought. I reminded myself that the opportunity had passed and I had missed it. But, it began to distract me to the point that I was losing track of the conversation around me. Rather than be impolite, I said good-night and excused myself.

As I heard the echo of my own high heels clicking across the spacious lobby toward the elevators I thought to myself, "At least I didn't have to make the phone call." See, Michael and I have a remarkable and unbreakable agreement, and it has worked very well during the years we have been married. While we are in the lifestyle and do enjoy being with a few select others sexual partners, as I said before, we never play alone. We agreed many years ago that if either one of us was tempted while we were apart, we would pick up a phone and call the other, while in the company of the tempter or temptress, so that everyone involved understood exactly what was going on, before we actually allowed ourselves to proceed with another person. It has worked very well. I know it has kept me from allowing casual flirtation and a little alcohol allow something to go too far. When confronted with a possible liaison, I have frequently asked myself whether what I was contemplating was worth having to make that phone call. On every previous occasion I decided it was not, and stopped wasting my time with someone I clearly didn't want badly enough. Michael has agreed that it has kept him from doing a few simple casual things as well. However, we have both agreed that if one of us makes the phone call, if confronted with that serious of an attraction, the other will give our blessings.

I can't even express my gratitude for that level of trust, and the brilliance of that idea. And I honestly admitted to myself, that given a little time to explore, another drink or two, a little flirtation, an elegant suite with a champagne bottle in the corner, tonight may have been the night I had to be the first to make the call.

While riding the elevator of to my room on the twenty-third floor, my text signal rang again. I didn't know what to expect this time, reached in my purse, pulled out the phone and flipped it open angrily. The text message surprised me, "I hope you are having a wonderful time in Dallas, miss your sweet kiss goodnight, try not to drive them crazy, all my love, Michael."

A flush of calm and well-being overtook my entire body. The man I love does that to me. He makes me feel warm and cared for. As I smiled at nothing, the text bell rang again.

Expecting a follow-up message from my honey, I pushed the inbox button. The text read, "I have suspected for a long time that you and Michael have an open relationship. Is that true? Is there a chance you and I could talk? Room 2135."

My calm was replaced by a sense of rage. In my mind I shouted, "You impudent little bastard. I am going to take your fucking head off! How dare you?!" The elevator stopped on the 23rd floor. I pushed the button for floor 21 about 22 times. I pushed the "close door" button about ten times, then pushed the "21" button about four more times and kicked the base of the control panel for good measure. Finally the door closed, the elevator dropped two floors, the door opened and I stormed out into the hallway toward 2135. I wasn't certain what I was going to do, but I knew it was not going to be pleasant.

I walked up to the hotel room door, double checked the room sign, "2135", and pounded on the door. I heard a muffled voice reply, "Just a minute. I'll be right there!" As I waited for the door to open I mentally ran though all the ultimatums I was about to deliver to Carson. I don't remember being that angry, ever. The longer I stood at the door, the angrier I got.

I could hear some fumbling with the lock. As the door opened, about 90% of my built-up rage flushed from my body. Standing at the door were six-plus feet of the most seductive looking young man I have ever had the privilege of seeing. The white towel wrapped around his hips contrasted with the dark tan six-pack of his abdomen and the highly defined musculature of his legs. His pectoral muscles, his arms and his shoulders were larger and much more defined than I had remembered. I finally managed to look up at his broad, white, perfect smile. God, this man was beautiful! "Hi, come on in!" he said as he moved out of the way and invited me inside.

I stormed into the room, taking a deep breath to power my imminent outburst. As I turned to deliver my first word, he was gone. He had slipped back into the bathroom. "I'll be right out! Just give me a minute or two to put something on," came through the closed door. I was conflicted to say the least. I still wanted to tear his head off, but was touched that he was showing some respect by not continuing to prance around in a towel. I concluded it was worth the wait since I was already aware that the towel was a serious distraction.

With nothing better to do, my eyes scanned his hotel room. Everything in his large suite was neatly in its place; items on the desk were arranged in perfect geometry. Unusual for a man his age, I thought. My eyes continued around the elegantly appointed room until they reached the corner between the bed and the desk, where a dewy ice bucket sat holding a bottle of champagne surrounded by a tray of white-chocolate-covered strawberries. My choler started to rise again. I thought, "You presumptuous little worm. Are you that self-assured that you ordered a bottle of champagne after sending me four text messages? Well, let's see where the neck of that bottle ends up when I'm finished with you!"

At the very moment I was picturing where I would put that bottle; Carson stepped out of the bathroom back into the suite's living area. Before he even had a chance to speak, I blasted him, "You ordered champagne? You assumed I would just wander up to your room because you sent me a text message? Where do you get off? I thought you were better than that, Carson! You arrogant little cut-out doll! I ought to kick your ass!"

Carson got that surprised look on his face, a little startled actually, held both his hands up like a referee. "Markie, I'm sorry. I know it looks really bad, but if you'll allow me, I'll be glad to explain." He paused for my permission.

"Go ahead, give it a try."

He pulled a chair very close and directly in front of me, sat down in it and leaned very close, and looked directly into my eyes. "First, I didn't assume anything. I was hoping, however. I have been hoping for a very long time. I've been giving all of this a lot of thought. I have been attracted to you for a very long time. However, the differences between our positions in the company, our ages, that fact that you could have me fired from a job I love in an instant, the fact that you're married to a man who could probably have a professional hit out on me in an hour, these things caused me to really think this through for a long time. But Markie, I have not been able to get the thought of the possibility of being with you off my mind for a very long time."

Without saying a word, I thought, "Good start, young man; really good start."

He continued, "So I decided, here in Dallas, encouraged by a completely unsubstantiated rumor that you and Michael had an open, or at least "liberal" relationship, I would let you know how I felt."

My body began betraying me. I could feel my left nipple agree, "Yup, good start."

"Now Markie, I know that I could really be in trouble here, but I had to try. I didn't buy the champagne because I assumed anything. I felt the price of a bottle of champagne was inconsequential compared to the possibility that you might want to be with me. And the strawberries; I remember you saying about three years ago at a company party that you wished someone had brought white-chocolate-covered strawberries because they were your favorite. I've never forgotten that. I looked all over Dallas to find them. If you hadn't come up to my room, I would have sent them down to your room tomorrow morning."

The insides of my thighs were trembling and beyond my control.

"If that rumor about you and Michael is not true, I'm really sorry. If I offended you, I'm sorry for that too. I just felt like this trip was my last shot to let you know. I'm leaving our company to go work for an internet start-up in less than thirty days. So, as you can see, it was now or never for me."

As I tried to think about my reply he leaned forward and placed the softest gentlest kiss on my lips, his lips opened slightly and his tongue just barely touched mine. Though it only lasted a few seconds that kiss ran all the way from my mouth to my core and kindled a fire I had not felt in a very long time. Surprising both of us, I reached around, slipped my fingers through a handful of his hair and pulled him forward for another kiss. This was not the kiss he had given me. It was a ravenous kiss; a product of all my emotions of this evening and perhaps even a warning of what he was about to encounter. Because, I was seriously considering his offer, and I wanted him to understand I was not another little twenty-something kiss-me-fuck-me-hug-me-to-sleep little honey he had picked up at a dance club.

Carson sat back in his chair, looking completely confused. "What was that?" he said.

"A kiss."

"Oh, okay. It felt like lip sex! Do you always kiss like that?"

"My trademark"

"Damn, lady! I feel like I need a nap after that one! Do you have any more like that?"

"Not until we get a few things straight between you and me and some other folks."

"Some other folks?"

I took a deep a breath, and contemplated whether I wanted to commit to this long, drawn-out explanation, realizing at once that I was required to either explain or get up and leave. I decided to explain, "This may take this wonderful, romantic edge off all of this Carson, but here we go. Michael and I do have a somewhat open relationship, but that doesn't mean we just run around screwing anyone who grabs our attention. We started exploring an alternative lifestyle so that I could explore some bisexual curiosities I had denied all my life." I paused, and Carson earned two extra points for not saying, "You do chicks too? That's hot!!" I continued, "Everything Michael and do, we do together, as a couple, and although we experiment with a few select couples, our activities are probably not quite as wild as some people would like to think. We are very careful."

He sunk down in his chair a little, "So there's no chance for us, right? I can live with that, but I must admit I'm really disappointed."

This was my opportunity. I could say, "That's right." I could get up and walk out of this room, say no more, and be done with it. But staring at this man, and listening to what my body was telling me, I knew that wasn't going to happen. "No I'm not saying that there's no chance. I'm saying there are some conditions."

After a rather long pause while I gathered my thoughts, Carson said, "Conditions, I'm listening."

"Before we go any further, I have to call Michael. I have to let him know that I've found someone I'm interested in, who I am considering having sex with, where I am, who I'm with, and that I am safe from harm and sober enough to know what I'm about to do."

Carson's eyes opened wide, he mouthed a couple of words silently, unable to speak. Then he finally got a word or two out out, ", you're not serious. You're jerking my chain, right?"

"No, not at all."

I saw the same look of disbelief on his face. When he finally spoke, he blurted out, "Well, there's a mood killer if I ever heard one!"

I laughed, "It's meant to be."

"Good God, Markie. Who would make a call like that?"

"I never have before, neither has Michael. But, I believe I'm about to make the first one."


"Yes, I am."

"I guess I should take that as a compliment!"

"Yes, I believe you should."

Carson's mind was running at about two-hundred miles-per-hour. "Are you going to tell Michael it's me?"

"What, you want me to tell him I'm getting ready to jump Bruce Springsteen?"

He rubbed his chin, "But he knows me. He's met me. We played golf once. I've been out on his boat. He even let me drive it. I don't know if I can do this!"

"Well, I guess it's up to you. I'm ready to make the call."

"You really mean it?"

I reached in my purse, pulled out my cell phone and flipped it open. "Whether I dial this phone right now or get up and go to my room is entirely up to you. Think fast, I'm losing the moment here."

He got up out of his chair, paced back and forth once, and said, "Okay, just one question, okay? Before you do this, I need you to answer one question, okay?"

"What's that?"

I was expecting any number of crazy questions at this point, but the question he popped was truly unexpected. "This is going to sound crazy, Markie, but I need to know the answer before you make that call."


"Okay, I don't know how to put this, but I need to know. I'm a little large. It's a problem for some people. Is it going to be a problem for you?"

I know I embarrassed him but I couldn't help myself. I burst into laughter.

"Why are you laughing like that?"

Still laughing I tried to communicate, "I'm sorry. You have no idea how many times I've heard something like that!"

"I'm just trying to be honest, here. Some people do find it a problem."

"I'm sure it won't be a problem. We'll find someplace to put it."

"So you're comfortable with size."

"Carson, for some reason I'll never understand I seem to attract men with, shall we say, heavy equipment. I seriously doubt it will be a problem. If it is, I am very resourceful. And, without being crude, if you will stop talking and tell me whether you want me to make this call, you will find me very 'prepared' to accommodate you. I am extremely wet right now, but that's going away quickly."

He plopped down in the chair, "Make the call, then."

I dialed Michael's number, it rang twice, and Michael answered having seen the caller I.D., "Hello, my love. I didn't expect to hear from you this late, but I'm really glad you called."

I took a deep breath, then replied, "You may or may not be glad I called, but please listen to me very carefully, okay?"

Michael sounded worried, "What's the matter sweetheart? Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. But I needed to call you. I'm sitting here in a hotel suite, there's a bottle of champagne in a bucket, some chocolate-covered strawberries on a tray, and a extremely nice, extremely handsome, extremely horny young man here who would like to take me to his bed and have his way with me. So, as we agreed I'm calling you to talk to you first."

Michael was obviously not expecting this phone call, because it took him a few seconds to gather his thoughts. My heart was pounding, and I honestly didn't know what to expect. "Have his way with you? Do you want him to?"

My turn to pause, "To be honest my darling, I can't think of anything I would rather do, unless you were here."

I could tell he was smiling on his end of the phone when he said, "Well, Markie, I want to thank you for making the call. It lets me know you care about our relationship and honor our agreements. Additionally, it confirms what I already knew, just how incredibly hot you are and what a lucky man I am. Who is it? Is it someone I know?"

I looked directly at Carson's eyes and for Carson's benefit I said, "Yes it is someone you know, love. I'm sure you remember Carson from the marketing office."

Michael started laughing quietly, "Oh yes. I remember him. I remember that day on the boat. He couldn't take his eyes off you."

Carson was sitting on the bed squirming as we talked about him. I could see this entire event was way beyond any frame of reference he had. He muttered under his breath, "I can't believe this. I'm going to be killed."

Michael continued, "Well my love, I'm certain that this phone call has taken the edge off this moment for you, so I'm going to quickly give you my blessing, thank you again for making the phone call, and tell you to have great fun with your little male toy. Please call me when you get back to your room to let me know you're safe."

He was getting playful on the phone, so I decided to play too. Okay, my love, I'll call you but that may be sometime tomorrow morning. Is that okay with you?"

"If that's how long it takes, my love. And for your sake, I hope you're right. I want your first solo adventure to be something you never forget."

"Thank you. And as far as that "little toy" part, apparently that's not the case either. I have just received an official warning. According to Carson, a lot of ladies seem to have a problem with it. So, I apparently have a challenge ahead of me."

Carson's eyebrows shot up, his mouth dropped open, and he stared at me in disbelief. I held my finger up to my lips letting him know that he should remain silent and let me entertain my husband for a moment.

Michael asked, "So, how big is he?"

I giggled. Men are so predictable. "I don't know yet, dear. I had to make a phone call before I found out for myself. Do you want me to check right now with you on the phone?" I smiled in Carson's direction to let him know everything was cool and I was teasing Michael.

"No, don't be ridiculous! You'll embarrass both of us!" Michael took a second or two to gather his thoughts and said, "Just call me back the second his pants come down."

I laughed at him. He must be truly okay with this, and he letting me know by getting just a little bit silly. "Sorry, my love. But, if we're in agreement about this, this will be the last phone call you get tonight. I plan to be a little bit busy, and you won't hear from me for a while. You'll have to wait until I get home for the details."

I could almost hear him pouting, "Alright, my love. Have a wonderful adventure. Let me talk to Carson for a second."

That request surprised even me. I stammered, "You want to talk to Carson? Are you serious? Really?"

He laughed and said, "Yes, dear, I do."

I shrugged my shoulders and handed Carson the phone. I watched as Carson said, "Hello? Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Uh - huh. I promise. Yes, sir. Thank you. I will." Then Michael was gone as quickly as he had appeared. Carson closed my phone and handed it back to me. "I have never known anyone like you two. This has been a real trip, so far. Can't wait to see what happens next."

I laughed at him. He was obviously a little overwhelmed and I had my work cut out for me to regain the moment that led to the phone call. "What did Michael say to you?" I asked.

Carson still looked stunned, and rolled his eyes up like he was trying to recall the exact words, "He said that you were the single-most precious person in his life. He made me promise to treat you with the respect and dignity I would give if I were with a princess or a queen. He asked me if I understood that the word 'no' means 'no', stop right now get up and escort you back to your room immediately."

"That's it?" I giggled.

"No, but I promised him that I wouldn't repeat the last thing."

"Oh, come on. Don't tease me."

"I can't. I promised!"

"Okay, well I'll get it out of you eventually. Forget it for now. So, we've made the phone call, we have Michael's blessing, there's champagne in ice, and the night is fairly young. And you, young man have this big giant surprise you want to share with me. What now, Mr. Big Stuff?"

He laughed. "It's not a big giant surprise anymore! That whole ceremony kinda' took the wind out of my sail if you know what I mean."

I stood up and walked toward him. "I guess I owe it to you to fix that. Let me help you." I leaned down and kissed him. I love kissing. It may be my favorite part of sex. Within 30 seconds his expert kisses had me back where I was prior to the phone call. I kissed his neck and his shoulders and marveled once again how incredibly beautiful this young man's body was. Although sexual attraction is a multi-faceted response, there is no better catalyst than young, tan, clean, well-muscled torso with just a light definition of sun-bleached body hair. I sucked lightly just beneath his clavicle, and he started to respond. I worked my way down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, working downward.

I reached my hand under his shirt, touched his nipple, and pinched it between my fingers moderately hard. He liked it. I pinched it harder, and he liked it more. Oh, yes. This was going to be a good night. He obviously liked his sexplay a little on the intense side, as do I.

As I unbuttoned the last button on his shirt, I stopped to marvel at his stomach. It was hard and strong and beautiful. I unbuttoned the top of his pants and realized he had not had time to put on any underwear. Knowing that, I unzipped his pants very carefully. I was really getting back into the mood very quickly, and really didn't want a zipper-captured piece of skin or hair to put an immediate halt to my exploration. Normally, a man's size is not something I concern myself with. Appearance of a penis is far more important to me than its mass. But, with all the discussion that had taken place over Carson's, it was difficult not to wonder about it now. Seemed to me, no matter what I found in his pants, it was bound to be a slight disappointment now!

Carson stood up at that same moment and grabbed the top of his slacks. He started to slide his slacks down slowly. It was easy to see he was very proud of his appendage and wanted to put on a little bit of a show. As the v-shaped opening of his trousers passed by a neatly-trimmed patch of pubic hair, it showed the base and about an inch of the shaft. There was no denying it was substantial in width, but not huge. He continued to slide them down until it was fully exposed. Still semi-flaccid it was wide and handsome with a perfectly shaped shaft and head. Lifting it in my hand, it had a definite heft and weight, but certainly nothing frightening.

As I lifted it up, and touched it with the tip of my tongue, Carson gently put two fingers under my chin. "Markie, you really don't have to do that. As much as I would enjoy it, it gets really uncomfortable for most women, and I don't want to ruin the night."

He had just flipped my switch. I love oral sex, I especially love sucking beautiful well-proportioned cocks, and I pride myself on being able to take the biggest ones all the way down my throat. My oral abilities are something I perfected all the way back in high school to keep boys out of my pants and out from under my plaid scholl-uniform skirts. I could make anyone come with my mouth, and once I got them off they forgot about doing anything else. I looked up at him and replied, "Number one, I am not most women. Number two, it's very nice, but not the biggest I've ever seen, dear. So please be quiet and enjoy this."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you. It just makes me a little self-conscious. It gets bigger."

"Let's see!" With that I opened my mouth, wrapped my mouth around the substantial head, sucked very lightly, and slipped my tongue around it twice getting as wet and slippery as I could. I was really enjoying my endeavor, really concentrating on giving him the treat of a lifetime (since he was admittedly deprived) when I felt a large amount of pre-come lubrication slip out onto my tongue. While I was surprised by the amount, I was pleased by both the light sweet unfamiliar taste and the obvious effect I was having on him. I spread the thick lubrication around the head with my tongue, took a deep breath and slowly slid my head about four inches down the shaft, until the head hit the back of my throat. There was barely any gag reflex, but I wasn't surprised. I was incredibly turned on, I was soaking wet, and I was determined to give this man the blow job of a lifetime. I stayed there until he stopped moaning, breathed in through my flared nostrils, and pushed his swelling cock the rest of the way down my throat. I eased back and forth about an inch each way until I had to come back up for air. His legs were trembling so fast I didn't know if he was going to be able to continue to stand. I gulped a big breath of air, and slid back down again.

He was right, it did get bigger. In fact, it was getting big enough that it was very difficult to get it back down my throat, and I had to push it at least an inch farther down there to get to the base of his cock. As I felt it grow even larger in my throat, it occurred to me that I actually may have met my match. I needed to get some air. As I pulled my head back, I wrapped my hand around the base. It felt very familiar. No, not the size of my husband, or the size of some of the larger men I've been with. More than anything, it reminded me of the circumference of the can my favorite energy drink comes in! I stopped my mouth at the head, trying to get my breath, sliding my hand up and down twisting slightly as I stroked. I was so curious to look at it, but I wanted to keep going more. I took a huge breath, pushed hard to take him completely again, and rested my lips near his pubic bone. I couldn't believe it, but his cock continued to swell. I could feel my throat spasm around the head of his penis, which had found a place in my throat where no man had gone before. At the moment I thought I had to go up for another breath, I felt the head of his penis and the shaft start to pulse. Even if I died of asphyxiation, I was going to stay at the base of his cock and take it, all of it! He was bucking and pushing, and I'm sure parts of my face were turning blue. I counted one, two, three huge spurts, but could barely feel them as they passed directly into my throat.

When I could wait no longer, I started releasing him from my throat, heading up for a breath. As I felt him slide from my throat to deep in my mouth there was what can only referred to as another blast of semen from him. I know it wasn't, but it felt like a pint in that one blast. I tried to hold it in my mouth, but couldn't. Much of it spilled out the corners of my mouth, down my cheeks and neck. I knew it probably wasn't too pretty, but I had accomplished my mission.

Like a man shot in the chest, Carson fell back on the bed. He was lying there, his arms and legs splayed out as if he was going to make "bedspread angels". I thought, "Damn, that was too good. He's finished, and I'm still ready kneeling here on the floor with my clothes on." I have heard a lot of different perspectives from a lot of different women, but for me, nothing gets me hotter than giving a great blow job especially if I can get someone off that quickly. And I was very turned on now. I needed some attention, and there was nothing available but this hot little boy imitating a corpse on the bed in front of me.

I slid up his legs, kissing as went, to where I could see his pride and joy laying on his stomach. "Good God!" I thought. "It is huge!" I wrapped my hand around the base of it and discovered it still half-hard. I wanted him, and I wanted him badly, but I knew this was going to be a bit of a trial. I lifted it up and licked the respectable length of his shaft.

Carson shot up to where he could rest on his elbows. "That was incredible! No one has ever done that to me before!"

"Oh, there's more, whenever you've recovered."

"I'm just about ready now!"

"I can see that." I replied. As I kissed my way up his body I felt his penis against my chest and belly. It felt strong and hard and warm, and from the slightest touch it began to stiffen to an erection again. I sat up on his abdomen and placed the head of it against my glistening entrance. As I began to sit down on it, I got another surprise. It was not going to just slide in. Although he had had just come hard, even though he was not completely erect yet, this was going to be a wonderful exciting trial. It was wide enough that when I wasn't concentrating on trying to get the head inside me, I cold feel the sides of his cock on both my thighs at the same time. As I pushed myself onto it, I could feel it fill the space between my ass cheeks. It was like playing with the largest toy in my bedroom toy chest, only sooo much better.

The head of his penis was the size of a small tangerine, but of course, it was more pliable and much more purposefully shaped. As I pushed it inside me, more with determination and desire than anything else, I felt the crown slip past the tightest part of my entrance and expand slightly. There, that was comfortable enough for the moment, and I reminded myself that it was probably a good idea to breathe now. Carson was letting me take my time, letting me adjust to my new "friend" and lay completely motionless, staring into my eyes. I could tell he watching for the slightest signs of discomfort as I pushed back to take more of his member. I felt full and stretched and slightly uncomfortable as I tried to take more, then suddenly the slight pain of capacity made the walls of my vagina contract hard around him. As the contraction slowly subsided, so did some of my discomfort. I consciously squeezed my muscles hard around him again, and as I relaxed I became even more comfortable. Feeling brave I tried to allow myself to take another inch, but to my surprise, I actually took about four more inches. And ladies, it may make me sound like a wanton slut, but it felt good, really good. I slid back up his shaft to the point where I could feel the crown against the narrow again, then pushed back slowly to recapture all I had taken before. I cannot accurately describe the feeling. I can only try. I have had large male encounters before, but taking this penis was changing my body chemistry. The skin covering my face and cheeks felt hot, almost like a light allergic reaction, my vaginal walls were touching and stimulating other parts of my anatomy, not the least of which was my backside. In some ways this felt a little like double penetration. My vision was not as clear as it had been previously, and my ears had started ringing slightly. I dared not to move too fast, but neither could I stop the rocking motion I had started. Though unfamiliar, this feeling, this level of stimulation and this pain/pleasure threshold I was flirting with was becoming addictive.

Carson, God bless him, remained still as I collapsed on his chest, still rocking slowly, mindlessly. Had I not been so cocky, had I not dared myself to do this I might have given up when he first slipped inside. But, I was so damned determined that I could do this, that I would show him what an experienced woman could do, that I had convinced myself that tonight, this cock was mine. And now, just now, I was beginning to enjoy the benefit of my stubbornness. As a wave of pressure and pleasure swept up from my core I heard myself beginning to moan slightly, and caught myself trying to take a little bit more of Carson with every stroke. It was impossible to think, as I felt the head of his penis push my abdomen outward, that I could possibly want more. But, I did.

My eyes had been closed for some time, and as I opened them I spotted a nipple just inches away. As I moved my tongue toward it, I tasted the tanned skin of his nearly hairless chest. Oh, God. I had forgotten just how good clean, young, tan skin tasted. I slowly swirled my tongue around his nipple then covered it with my mouth. I sucked on it a little, and he reacted by lifting his hips into me slightly. It was his first movement, and it was far from unwelcome. I was so aroused and so wet now that I easily took the inch or two he gently fed me. I sucked on the nipple again, slightly harder and he pushed his way in, slightly more vigorously. I was enjoying this game. We continued like that for ten minutes until I was completely comfortable with the motion. We rocked and held each other, and I made peace with the feeling of fullness between my legs.

Just as I was beginning to enjoy these new sensations that felt a little like being drugged, Carson gently lifted me off his chest and onto my side. I was staring out at the room, my back to my lover as he positioned himself behind me and started to slide himself between my thighs. I was a little disappointed as this had always been a difficult position for me. Of course, it would take some of the concern out of Carson going too deep, and I had to admit, I had never tried this with someone who had enough penis to fuck around corners. I smiled to myself as that though passed my mind. But that only lasted a moment before my body called me back to the moment. As Carson pushed toward the entrance to my vagina, I could feel his cock, which felt like a smooth, muscled, lubricated forearm. As it started inside me again, filling me, it stimulated my vaginal lips, stretching them to their limits. I could also feel it sliding across my perineum, rubbing across the most sensitive part of my ass cheeks at the tops of my thighs, and intermittently touching my anus. This cock was everywhere and delivering pleasure all along its path. He stayed behind me, his arms around me, his hands finally touching my breasts, moving and kissing my neck and ears. His kisses seemed to connect to other parts of my body. My clitoris and it started to swell, poking out from under its hood. As he slowly and cautiously took me from behind, I reached between my legs and touched myself. Within a minute or two I felt an orgasm build. Not one of those monstrous, gut-crunching orgasms that end an evening, but a very pleasant and completely respectable orgasm nonetheless. It built slowly, happened sweetly then released. Only seconds later, another started, then another. They were unlike any orgasms I had ever had. As the muscles in my vaginal walls tried to contract to help me come, they could not. They were being help wide open, unable to squeeze by this elephantine object inside me. As they contracted it resisted and pushed them back apart. I had come with my muscles attempting to contract but unable to. The result felt like trying to trying to pick up a bowling ball with one hand. They continued, one after another, as I continued to be filled. It was a sensation I felt I could continue to enjoy all night. As another wave gently came over me I noticed my partner was getting a little excited. His breaths became shorter, his impulsion more insistent, and his speed a little less cautious. Truth is, I was being fucked. There was no discomfort - only arousal now. However, he had already come once. I didn't know how many he was good for, and I had not spent the last hour retraining my body so that I could watch his pretty little face sleep the rest of the night. Fearing he would explode, then fall asleep, I rolled away from him on the bed, far enough away to expel him completely.

He made a sound, like he had been wounded slightly, reached for my arm and pulled me onto my back. That was the first time I had actually gotten a chance to see his erection at a distance that allowed me to focus clearly. It was absolutely beautiful. I remembered from my anatomy classes that the parts of the human penis that fill with blood to cause an erection are called the Corpora Cavernosa. I only mention that because there are two of them side-by-side and on most men what you see is them working in harmony to create a single shaft. On Carson however, each half was fully developed. At full erection, his didn't look like a single erect shaft. It looked more like a double-barreled shotgun wearing a helmet. I could only guess that it had to be no less than eleven inches in length, but its girth was even more amazing. It was wide enough that as formidable as its length was it gave you the overall impression of being somewhat normal.

Carson pushed my left leg aside, and knelt between my legs. Part of my mind wanted to shout, "Hey, wait a minute!" and another part of my mind was shouting, "Oh, yeah! Bring it home, baby!" Since I was conflicted, I actually said nothing, simply waiting there as Carson put his hands on the bed beside my shoulders and slowly, gently, almost weightlessly lay down over me. His hand went between us and he guided himself to the center of my trembling slit once more. Considering the state of his arousal, he moved quite tenderly, taking his time, testing his way back inside me. At that moment it occurred to me, even though I wanted him, even though I was as ready as I was ever going to be, I was nowhere near ready to have some inexperienced young guy pounding into me with an economy-sized hard salami. I didn't sign up for having my insides fucked into tatters.

It was at that point that he surprised me once again with his skill. Unlike some men who got their instruction on intercourse from watching porn movies, he moved like a experienced lover, gently filling me to the point that it took my breath then sliding slowly back out. As he moved, the top of is penis massaged my clitoris ever so gently, providing just enough stimulation to make it stir again. He continued to move gently, having a great deal of awareness of how much I had to take with every stroke. It was no longer a trial for me. My body had adjusted fully, and I bean to think, "I couldn't handle someone this large everyday, but in the mood I found myself this night, knowing this was a one-time thing, this was an experience I would remember fondly for a very long time.

I realized that for the last hour, I had not been able to concentrate on anything except accommodating his appendage; it had been the focus of my every thought. Now, that I had grown somewhat comfortable with it, I was more able to concentrate on other attributes of my handsome young lover. Because of the difference in our height, I felt sheltered beneath his muscular chest. I took a moment to glance at his arms and realized for the first time how strong and well-defined his arms appeared. As I enjoyed the view above me, I began to lightly trace my fingers across his smooth skin. I felt another wave approach and as it happened, relished the exquisite feeling of being taken. I began to let go, to allow myself to enjoy, to literally be caught up in the moment as it was happening. And happening it was.

I could feel Carson swell a bit inside me, and get a little firmer. He began to kiss my face and neck slowly working way across my collarbone. As his pace quickened, and his breathing became more irregular it was obvious he wanted my breast in or at least near his mouth but couldn't reach it. I reached below my left breast, surrounded it with my hand, and lifted it toward his mouth. Still a little out of reach he reached out with his tongue and touched the nipple. The feeling was electric and delicious. Squeezing my hand tighter caused my breast to close the distance between it and his mouth. He leaned forward, took it in his soft, wide mouth and applied just the right amount of suction. This was going to be a serious orgasm, it was going to be as he was having his, and it was obvious that it was going to be impossible to derail either one.

I started to come first. And, to my surprise, I caught myself lifting my hips slightly to meet his every thrust. Even though he was being less delicate than he had been all night, it felt good, really good. My muscles started to contract - at least as much as they could -- and I nearly prayed that nothing would happen to prevent this oncoming delight. As my vaginal walls began to spasm, the effect it had on him was obvious. It was exactly the stimulation he needed to push him over the edge, and over he went. I was moaning, he was groaning, and I was certain that as our moment happened, we were going to wake someone in the hotel. However, that thought passed quickly as raised himself up with his arms, drove as much of himself into me as I could take, and fairly screamed the announcement of his ejaculation. Every penetration I endured while he came was somehow anesthetized and magnified at the same time by my own explosion. It was glorious! And even though it wasn't something I would want to attempt to cope with on a daily basis, I started to better understand that it was possible for some women to become addicted to equipment this size.

As he lay down beside me, panting for air, his hand on my breast, he was still inside me and I was still full. No amount of contractions could push his penis out. Not that I really wanted him out, but I felt I needed to get up, go to the bathroom. Whether it possible for him to continue or not, I felt the need to clean up after his rather copious ejaculation. Finally, when I realized my urges were not as important to him as they seemed to be to me, and that he was completely content to lie there gently fondling my breasts, I decided to say something. I touched his face and said, "You need to let me get up a minute, okay?"


"I need to... well; I just need to get up for a minute, okay?"


I was getting a little irritated with his impression of a two-year-old. "I need to clean up a little after all of that, alright?"

Carson just smiled, kissed my cheek, kissed my neck and replied, "Not necessary."

"I need to go freshen up a minute, Carson."

As he slipped himself from inside me, he continued kissing his way across my shoulders to my breasts and said, "No you don't, and you're fine."

In the time it took me to gather the breath and the thoughts I needed to tell him that I didn't appreciate being told what I needed, he had kissed his way across my abdomen, over my hips and was planting kisses on my pubic bone. Just as was about to say all that, his tongue gently touched my clitoris. I decided to be quiet. He continued to deliver the softest touches with his tongue, probing lower with each touch. Then he moved down on the bed, put himself between my legs, and nuzzled my tired labia with his lips. Although I was a little over-stimulated, he was so gentle that it was comfortable. In a short time, it went from comfortable to comforting, then arousing. As he continued I could feel myself stir from my core again. I had never had a man do what I finally realized he was doing. He was alternately stimulating me with his tongue and licking from my perineum to my clitoris, lovingly cleaning what he had left behind. At first I thought it a little strange, but as he continued it felt so good that I quit worrying about it. After five minutes had passed I was thinking that someone should pass a law that every man should be responsible for his own tidying in exactly this manner. Oh yes, it should be a law, yes. Just like that, uh-huh, a law, right there, what a nice idea.

It didn't take long for what I knew was inevitable. It had taken less than ten minutes for me to go from wondering what the hell he was doing to deciding that there was going to be a new custom in our house to grabbing Carson's head and wantonly crushing my pubic mound against his mouth while I came yet again.

We continued on through the night. I think each of us was waiting for the other to give up, but he was obviously as stubborn as I. Our climaxes became fewer and further apart. There was one when I was on top again, another one as he took me from behind on my hands and knees, one as he took me from behind as I lay flat on the bed on my stomach (try that with a five-inch partner - no go) and another during a mutual oral session that I would have to call a "70" position. Both of us had apparently exhausted our supply. Our sex became more relaxed more playful, but it didn't seem that either of us could stop for much more than about twenty minutes before a hand went out and touched something we wanted to fondle for a while. Fondling would prove to be fun and then, there we were, fucking again. It had been a very long time since I had packed that much sex into one night. The most bizarre event happened at the end of the evening.

I had decided that as much fun as we were having, I needed to get a couple hours sleep before my alarm went off at 8:00 a.m. for another day at the exposition. I asked Carson if he would mind me taking a shower before I got dressed to go, and he jumped up, grabbed a clean towel, handed it to me and said, "Be my guest!" opening the bathroom door for me. As I showered, my mind began to race through the events of the evening. The recollection itself was arousing, and as I lathered myself in soap I was getting turned on again. Just then I felt a rush of cold air, the sound of a shower door, and there he was behind me.

Carson reached over my shoulder and gently took the soap from my hand saying, "Here, let me help." He washed my back for me, kissing my neck whenever the thought struck him. My back, my ribs, across my hips, my legs, my feet, then finally back up to my buttocks. After he was done there, he poured a huge amount of liquid soap into his hand, reached around me and started to wash my breasts. As he did, I felt his cock, stiffening again, between my cheeks. Maybe it was a night full of lust, maybe my overconfidence, but for some reason - completely unknown to me now - I reached back and started rubbing him up against my rear opening. It felt warm and hard and delightfully slippery against my backside, and I imagine if you have been this far in this story with me, you might have guessed that I might enjoy anal sex as much as any other form. You would be correct, I do. But even though I enjoy it, and I'm quite practiced at it, what I was holding in my hand was a horse of a different color, no pun intended.

I quickly tested my opening and thought to myself, "Hell, this was going to be a breeze." I grabbed his growing member, and held it against my anus. Carson spoke softly in my ear, "Oh, really?"


"You like anal sex too?"

"Oh yes, I really like anal sex."

"I am so jealous of your husband in so many ways."

I just giggled a little, "That's okay Carson. Knowing my husband as I do, I'm sure he would be a little jealous of you, too. I'm guessing anal sex is okay with you too, right? I mean you don't think it's dirty or anything, do you?"

"Nothing's dirty in the shower, Markie."

It didn't take too long before the initial resistance subsided and I began to accept it. I don't know whether it was the amount of soap or my arousal or the relaxed state I was in, but believe me; nobody was more surprised than I when about four inches slipped in all at once. Carson was much more than I had ever encountered knocking at that particular door, and I caught myself taking short breaths, like the ones I had learned in Lamaze classes. I dropped my chin to my chest and held up my hands, my universal sign to my partners not to move a muscle. I stood there for a minute trying to cope with the fullness. I consciously worked to relax it, and every other muscle in my body that had reacted to the initial intake. The moment I felt it possible I reached behind myself grabbed Carson's buttocks and pulled him gently toward me.

He began moving ever so gently, and the passion and stimulation started to overrun my senses. I reached up, grabbed the high towel bar in the shower, and pushed back toward him. Carson moved with long, excruciatingly slow strokes. When he pushed in as far as I could stand, I reached back and grabbed his cock. There was still enough shaft outside my body to wrap my hand around, and I did. For a while, that worked. It worked to let Carson push in as far a he could, and kept me from trying to take more than I could handle. The combination of the hot water, the steam, the soap, bare skin and being taken in this fashion all worked together like a perfectly arranged symphony of pleasures. It stopped working when I realized that I had one hand on the towel bar, one hand on his cock, and I needed a third hand to tend to my aching clitoris. It was a quandary.

I decided to have some faith and let go of the towel bar. Attempting to recall how many times Carson had come during the evening, I was almost certain this would be for my amusement not his. I felt quite certain that, in spite of his youth, he was finished for the night. As I thought that, however, I had misgivings as I felt him swell in my backside. He was obviously working toward another orgasm. So was I. My entire body felt flushed. This type of stimulation was also so completely different from vaginal sex. Carson was beginning to get more forceful, placing one hand on my shoulder and the other on my left breast. It was obvious that at least my breast was going to come out of this shower very clean. However, although my mind was receiving a great treat, it became apparent my body was completely fucked out. It felt great, I was not responding to this stimulation as usual. I was almost going to say, ""This is not happening for me," when I felt some enthusiasm behind me. "Oh, really!" I thought to myself. "Well, if you're going too get excited I'm going to do what I can do to help you out."

I squeezed my thighs together, contracted my sphincter muscle as much as I could stand. Carson obviously felt the effect and quickened his pace. I tightened up a bit more and he started to go wild. This was amazing. He held me tight, tight enough to make it difficult to breathe. He continued to grow inside me. He began to lose the gentleness he had exhibited all night. Apparently, taking me this way put him in a different mindset. I leaned my head back toward his ear and asked, "Are you going to come again?"

"Oh, yes. Oh, God yes!" He began to push much harder, and soon, his excitement excited me!

I began to egg him on: "Come on big boy, fuck me. Fuck my ass. Push that big cock home!" I squeezed my thighs together. He was so long that I could stand up straight, hug his cock with my ass cheeks, and he could still deliver all I could handle. It felt wonderful. And just as that thought crossed my mind, he began to explode. He came with such vigor that I had to stand on my tip-toes and grab the towel bar again to keep my balance. It was so erotic, so strange. Since I was less involved in my own passion, more of an observer than I have ever been before, I listened and observed and watched as this beautiful young man lost his mind.

After he had finished and started to catch his breath, he became very gentle and loving. Without a word he washed me again from head to toe, turned off the water, patted me dry with a big fluffy towel and hugged me. "You okay?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm more than okay, Carson."

"I can't tell you what this evening meant to me, and as much as I have lusted after you all this time, I never imagined that you were such an great lover."

"Well, thank you. You were a bit of surprise yourself."

"Thanks. I tried."

Just as he was saying that, I looked over my shoulder and saw the red glaring numbers of the hotel room clock shouting that it was 7:45. "Holy shit! I've got to go! I have to look presentable and be in a conference in an hour!"

I dropped the towel, grabbed my clothes, and threw on just the amount of clothing necessary to get to my room without getting arrested. As I headed for the door, Carson met me and leaned down to kiss me goodbye. "Markie, this was incredible. Can I be bold enough to ask you what you're doing tonight."

I knew this was coming, I dreaded this part. I looked up into his face and started, "Carson, this night was wonderful. I will never forget it, and I enjoyed every minute of it. But this was a one-time thing. There's no a relationship here. I have a relationship with my husband, a really good one. Tonight I'll be taking care of business, tomorrow I'll be going home. Next month you'll be leaving the company and this will never be repeated. Do you understand all that?"

"I'm not sure I understand anything about all this."

"Well, it's important that you try. Listen, I have to go."

"Okay, well have a great day."

"You too, sweetie. We'll talk about this later if you need to, but I've gotta go."


I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and headed toward my room. As soon as I got safely back inside the room and closed the door, I called Michael.

He answered, "Good morning, my love. Did you have fun or did you sleep well last night?"

"I didn't sleep at all."

"Really? Oh please, tell me more!"

"I would love to honey, but honestly, I am going to be late for my first conference if I don't get my ass in gear right now. I just wanted to call and tell you I was back in my room, I had a great time, I was treated very sweetly, and to thank you for last night."

"You had a good time?"

"I had a good time."

"I can't wait to hear the details! You didn't lose yourself and forget everything that happened, did you?"

I laughed, because that has happened before and it makes my husband crazy! "No, my love, I pretty much remember everything that happened. I wish I had time to tell you now, but I really don't. All I want to say is had a great time, it was a really unique experience, and I love you for giving me the chance to explore so openly. I fact I love you so much, I am planning a special gift for you."

"I love gifts from you! What is it?"

"When I leave here tomorrow, and I get on the plane, I'm going to take my laptop out and use the entire plane trip to write every detail down for you, so you can read it word for word, blow by blow when I get home. Then if you want to, you can post it on some website and let everyone in the world know about my first solo adventure. How's that?"

"Sounds wonderful! I can't wait to read it!"

"Well, that's what I'll do then, just because I love you so much."

"I love you, too." There was a brief pause, then the question I knew he couldn't resist asking, "So I'll wait until you get your story finished, but I have to know one thing. Was this size thing for real I mean, was it worthy of a warning?"

I had a brief argument with myself whether to be completely forthcoming on this question, carefully guard my dear husband's ego, or let him wait until I was finished with the story. I decided to be a little teasing, and let him have some fun for today. "Okay, Michael. It was large. It was very nicely shaped, and Carson knew what to do with it; a pretty nice combination all in all." "Here it comes," I thought to myself.

"How large is large?"

"Okay, I'll tell you, but then I have to go, okay?"


"Go to the refrigerator, my love. Get two of those eight ounce cans of Red Bull. Put one on top of the other, and you pretty much have a fair comparison."

There was a short pause, then Michael replied, "Are you serious?"

"Yes, there may be some differences here and there, but if you do that, you'll pretty much have a fair idea."

"Holy shit, Markie! For real?"

"For real. Listen hon', I have to go get ready to go, okay? I love you."

"I love you, too. Listen, have a great day, then get some rest, okay?"

"I will Michael. I'll call you tonight .

"I'll be waiting."

"I love you."

"I know, and that makes very happy. I love you, too. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, my love."

I folded the phone, put it back in my purse. Then I started laughing. I know my husband better than I have ever known any man. He keeps no secrets from me, and when it comes to sex, his enthusiasm is very much like that of a five-year-old. Would you like to know what I know happened after I hung up the phone? No matter what he was doing at the time, he stopped and walked directly to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and took a can of energy drink from the shelf, wrapped his hand around it, held it up and turned it so that he could judge it from every angle. I could hear him in my mind, "Hmm, wow, oh my goodness," every time he looked at it from a different angle. He reached in, took out a second can, stacked one on top of the other, held them together by wrapping one hand around the other, again uttering, "Hmm." Then holding both cans in one hand, I can promise you that he found the nearest full-length mirror in the house and held the entire thing up to his crotch viewing it first head-on, then in profile, "Hmm." I started to laugh out loud as I pictured this scene in my mind, knowing that there was a really good chance it was happening simultaneously as I concocted it in my mind's eye. Men can be so silly!

And, just to be fair to him and to you, my reader, I will make a promise. If, when Michael reads this story, he can honestly say that nothing of the sort happened, I will remove it from this story.

Oops! There it is!

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