An Ending and a Beginning

Lying next to each other in post-coital bliss Brian pinched my nose and said "Alan is a goddamn fool. You are light years better than Joan in bed, and out of bed you are so much better in every way. I'm going to turn his stupidity to my advantage."

"How's that?" I asked.

"By fucking you for the rest of my life, that's how," he snarled, as he planted yet another lascivious kiss on me.

We spent the rest of the time until noon the next morning occasionally snacking and drinking liters of water just to keep up our strength and our body parts recharged, showering together to wash the cum and sweat off, and changing the sheets; but primarily we just played with each other's bodies. I loved his cock and testicles; his cock fit my pussy perfectly, and his testicles hung low and were heavy providing me with endless fascination as I fondled them and sucked or licked them. He really liked my pussy and asshole, and seemed as fascinated by my puffy nipples as I was with his testicles. "I've never seen puffy nipples live before; I love them," he must have said a dozen times, mostly between sucks.

When I finally put my sundress back on after brunch about one p. m. on Sunday I sat on his lap – he was still naked. "Brian, you have no idea how much you helped me. You restored my confidence; I was lower than a snake's belly when I got here last evening and now I feel on top of the world. If the hottest guy I know can at least stand me for a night, I have hope for the future."

Brian suddenly turned serious. "The way that you're talking sounds like you're trying to kiss me off."

"No...I'm...uh...not," I stammered. "It's just that I know that you date girls hotter than I am, and that you're a player, and I didn't want you to think..."

Brian put his hand over my mouth. "I've been a player because I've never found the right woman. There is a 99% probability that you're her. I know that you've been living in an apartment since your breakup with the asshole. Come live with me – I want to be exclusive with you."

I was more than stunned. I was flabbergasted, gobsmacked, and dumbfounded. When I looked into his eyes I couldn't read them. "You can't be serious," finally came out of my mouth.

"Why? Because you look upon me as a sex object, like most women do, so you don't think that I can have real feelings, or want a relationship?"

"No...Brian, you're just so much more sexy and good-looking than I am."

"First of all, I don't think so; and second of all, I've fucked lots of women and you are by far the best; hands down; not even close. So even if you don't think that I have real feelings for you at least continue fucking me; and the best way to do that is to move in with me."

I continued to sit on his lap, speechless, with my arms around his neck and staring into his eyes. There was resolve in them. Suddenly I felt my bottom being poked – the bastard was getting hard again.

Brian passionately kissed me. Then he stood up, bent me over the kitchen table, flipped up my sundress, and shoved his cock into my pussy for the umpteenth time in the last eighteen hours. I grabbed ahold of the table as my face lay on it and held on for dear life as he stroked in and out while squeezing my ass and fingering my asshole. Out of nowhere I felt my ass being penetrated by a slim hard object which turned out to be a vibrator. When he turned it on high while continued to fuck me I started wiggling and squirming while screaming the pleasure was so intense, and when he once again ejaculated into me I passed out.

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I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but when the sexiest guy and best fuck that I had ever met in my life made it clear that he wanted to try a relationship with me I decided to go for it. For six months I lived a dream – he was as kind and considerate as he was sexy. However, when we went on a week trip to Aruba and I had the best time of my life I had to admit to myself that I was crazy in love with him – and that worried me. When I woke Brian up with my crying the last night in Aruba he was perplexed.

"What's wrong, Amy?"

Through my tears I got out "I love you so much, Brian, it's going to be so painful when you find someone better than me – I think that I'll just die."

He raised his eyebrows, then chuckled, then got out of bed. I was sure that he was going to break it off right then. Instead he went to his dresser drawer, opened it, took something out of it and came back to bed.

"I was going to wait until we got back home, but I can't have you melting down on me. So – Amy Madison (I had returned to my maiden name after my divorce was final) will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?"

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It's been six years and two kids since Brian and I got married. I still can't believe he loves me like he does, but I make every effort to fuck him senseless three or four times a week – and twice a day on vacations – since I know that I fuck him better than anyone else ever could. He's done nothing to make me think that he'll ever be unfaithful, and he's the best husband and father that I could imagine.

Every so often I send Joan and Alan thank-you cards. Too bad that they never hooked up permanently; it would have saved me the price of a card and stamp each time I send one out. They deserved each other.