Handjob on the Road

After a while of this exquisite torture, she lifted her left hand from the base of my cock, and added it to the motion on my shaft. Now she had both hands wrapped around my shaft, both moving up and down in unison. But, they were rotating in opposite directions! It was the famous double twist. My dick no longer knew if it was coming or going, as the intense, inexorable stimulation kept me on edge for moment after moment. Time ceased to have any meaning at all, as my dick completely belonged to this wonderful, manipulating, talented woman and her fabulous fingers.

I felt myself once again approaching an inevitable orgasm, and she once again felt it moments after I did. Again, she stopped short, letting me calm down. She wasn't ready, just yet, to end the process. She watched my chest, waiting for my breathing to normalize. Once she judged that I was ready for more, she started up again. This time, though, she formed her famous O-rings with both hands. First her right hand, starting at the tip of my straining cock, would slide slowly down, form the tip of my head, over the rim of my glans, and down my shaft. As it approached the midpoint of my shaft, her left hand would repeat the process: starting at the fleshy tip, squeezing past the rim, and on down the engorged shaft. Meanwhile, the right hand had started the process over again. And again and again, one hand after the other. The overall effect was that of an infinite penetration! My cock felt like it was burrowing deeper, deeper, ever deeper, into an infinitely deep, infinitely long, and infinitely pleasurable pussy. My eyes tried to drink in the beauty of this fabulous stroke, but I found that it was all I could do to maintain consciousness, let alone watch and analyze the details of the exquisitely pleasurable maneuver.

Finally, sensing another crisis of near ejaculation, she froze her talented hands in place, and let me calm down once again. She held me, my cock and her hands frozen in time, and stared me in the eyes. My eyes told her how much I was enjoying this. I think she understood. At least, her bright red lips formed a sublime smile that told me she did.

After another sip of wine, she moved her chair down further toward my knees, the better to approach my cock from the underside. She wrapped the fist of her left hand, thumb up, around my shaft, and began a very basic, almost primitive, up and down stroke. But, her thumb was pointing straight up, and was applied directly to the frenulum, the ultra-sensitive spot below the head of my cock. As she slowly, gently, and exquisitely jacked her soft, beautiful fingers up and down the shaft of my cock, the soft pad of her thumb stroked back and forth on my sensitive frenulum. After all of the intense, wonderful, complicated abuse of her previously techniques, this final assault was destined to be the end. The more she stroked, the tighter her fist squeezed, and the stronger her strumming on my most sensitive of spots became. My eyes were locked on my hugely engorged member, on her cool slender fingers, on her bright red fingernails, and, most of all, on her flashing wedding diamond, standing out on the side of my cock, where she and I could both see it with extreme clarity. Her eyes were as focused on the action as were mine. She stroked, slowly, deliberately, but gradually faster and faster. Pre-cum oozed out of my slit, and added lubrication to the action. Her fist continued to slip up and down my shaft, and her thumb continued to strum on my sensitive tissues like a master musician playing a Stradivarius. All thoughts of changing the rhythm, of short attention spans, were now moot. This was the end-game. My breathing became faster and shallower; and her breathing echoed mine. Sweat poured off my forehead; her breasts jiggled in time with her strokes. My buttocks clenched; her jaw was tightly set. Finally, mercifully, I felt myself pass the threshold of inevitability, and knew that I was about to ejaculate. She sensed it as well, and went into the rapid stroke that we both knew would see us through to the end. I gritted my teeth, and forced my eyes to stay open so that I could watch the fabulous climax.

The first spurt of semen erupted out of my yawning cock slit. It went straight up, and came straight back down, landing right on the head of my cock, just as the second spurt was likewise erupting. The rest came out in a gush, like a volcano spewing hot lava down a mountainside. My entire cock was soon covered with white frosting, like a glazed donut. It ran down my shaft, and down her hand and fingers as well. It even covered her gleaming wedding ring and her enormous diamond, effectively dousing the flashing light that had been shining from that amazing gem for the duration of this exquisite hand-job. We both watched in fascination as the lava-like flow of semen covered my cock, my pubic hair, my balls, her hand and fingers, and her ring. She held on tightly, as if she was grasping a branch in a stream, holding on for dear life, waiting for a flood to subside.

Neither of us spoke for long seconds. Finally, I broke the silence, in my typical eloquent fashion: "Whoa!" I said. "That was something else!"

She smiled demurely, still grasping my now-softening cock. "You liked that? I told you I give good hand-jobs."

"That you do, sweetheart, that you do," I assured her. We stared into each others' eyes for a long moment, me reveling in the physical pleasure, she enjoying the power of having gotten me off so intensely.

Finally, we both stood up, stiffly, and I went to the mini-bar to freshen our drinks. As I turned to her with the wine split in my hand, she came into my arms. She held me tight, her arms around my waist, and put her head on my shoulder. I held her as best I could, with the wine bottle in my hand. I patted her back with my free hand. She looked up at me.

"I'm glad you liked that," she said. "It's so nice to please someone you are close to."

"Yes, it is," I agreed. I looked into her eyes. They were needy.

"I'm so horny," she said. "But I don't want to cheat on Jim. Do you think you could... "

"What, darling?" I asked.

Instead of speaking, she left my embrace and went to her suitcase. She pulled out a lavender colored vibrator. It was about ten inches long, with a bent end, looking sort of like a mannequin's leg with a foot shaped to take a high heeled shoe. It was a G-spot vibrator.

"I use this all the time when I travel. But doing it by myself is so... lonely. Would you mind?"

She looked so forlorn that I couldn't even dream of saying no. Not that I would have refused anyway. I have no scruples. "Of course, darling. What would you like me to do?"

She laid down on the bed on her back, in the same spot where I had been so recently, with her legs spread and her knees up, feet flat on the sheets. She looked at me, need in her eyes. "Fuck me with it. Fuck me like it is your cock. As long as you fuck me with the vibrator, I won't be cheating. That's true, isn't it?"

What the fuck do I know about these moral issues? At times like these, I use the time-honored technique of telling a chick whatever she wants to hear. "Of course, sweetheart, of course it isn't cheating. It'll just be the vibrator fucking you. I'll just be helping out." She smiled gratefully.

I took my place in the wheeled desk chair, to the side of the bed, and reached between her legs. I turned the vibrator control knob to "low" and placed it on her pussy lips. I moved it slowly up and down her wet slit.

"Mmmmm," she said. "That's nice. Give me lots of lip action before you put it inside." I did as she asked, and moved it up and down her pussy lips, down almost to her anus, then up almost to her clit. Several times, up and down, slowly, slowly. Finally, I allowed the lavender foot of the vibrator to touch the hood of her clit. She jumped slightly. I continued up and down, up and down, now grazing her clit on each up-stroke. I moved the switch to "medium." Her moaning became louder and more insistent.

She moved her left hand down to her groin. She used her first two fingers to spread her pussy lips, allowing me greater access to her inner folds and tissues. Her pussy was beautiful. I could see her wedding ring, still covered with my jism, now dried and hardened. I wondered what Jim would have to say about that. Not that I particularly cared. I wasn't trying to steal his wife from him; just having sex with her while he wasn't using her. I continued to apply the lavender vibrator to her inner lips, her secret folds, and the hood of her clit.

"Inside!" she cried out. "Put it inside me!" I obliged, sliding the foot of the vibrator, hooked upwards, into her sopping wet gash. I wasn't quite sure of the proper angle, but she was not shy about guiding me. "Deeper!" she would yell. "Higher!" or "lower!" Eventually I got it where she wanted it, vibrating strongly against the inside walls of her vagina, her clit, and her G-spot. I turned the switch to "high." She responded by shuddering and moaning, biting her lips, and thrashing her head from side to side. She was clearly enjoying herself and beginning to lose control.

I kept up my assault with the vibrator for ten minutes or so, and Mandy never indicated that she was getting tired of the stimulation. But she wasn't approaching an orgasm, either. I figured I needed to up the ante. I pressed down on the handle of the vibrator, forcing the foot-shaped tip of it higher toward her pubic bone and her G-spot. The effect was immediate: she screamed in pleasure!

"Yes, yes, you fucking bastard! Yes!!" I took this as a good sign, and continued my pressure. Then, figuring more of a good thing is a good thing, I stuck a finger into her puckered brown asshole. This was a bit of a gamble, but it paid off magnificently. She screamed uncontrollably, thrashed her arms and head about in wild circles, and eventually clamped both of her hands over my own hand on the vibrator, jamming it further and deeper into the dark recesses of her pussy.

"Arghghgh...," she moaned, or something to that effect. I can't quite reproduce her sounds, but she was in the process of losing all control of herself. After several moments of thrusting the vibrator into her pussy, so hard that I feared she would hurt herself, she finally bucked and convulsed and clenched up into a ball. "Yess!" she shouted, "yess, yess, yess!!" She shuddered so hard that I jumped back several feet. She clenched, spasmed, clenched again, then froze for long seconds, and then began to sob, her body wracked with tears and shudders as she clenched into a fetal position.

I looked at her for awhile, not knowing what to do. Finally I reached out a tentative hand and touched her hip. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" I asked.

She didn't answer at first, but just continued her gentle sobbing. But eventually she unclenched, uncurled, and sat up stiffly on the bed. "Yes," she said. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, thank you so much. I needed that. I needed that so very badly."

She continued to look me in the eye. I knew that look. It's the look that generally sends me to the exits when I see it in a woman with whom I am having a one-night stand. She was getting needy.

"I want more," she said. "Oh, don't worry. I'm still true to Jim. But I need more tonight. I need your cock in me. And I need it now."

She got on all fours on the bed, and reached into the drawer of the nightstand. She pulled out a small picture frame, with a photo of a smiling bald man. He looked like a nice fellow. She put it on the night stand where she could see it. She took off her wedding ring, and placed it on the stand in front of the photo. "I love you, honey," she said to the photo. Then she turned and looked at me over her shoulder. "What are you waiting for? Fuck me, you beast!"

I wasted no time getting into position. The time I'd spent fucking her with the vibrator had been plenty long enough for my cock to recover, so I knee-walked up to her shapely buttocks and pressed my rigid cock up against her still-swollen pussy lips. She arched her back downwards, like a dog stretching, and reached back to help me. She guided my tool directly to her moist pussy lips, and I felt it slide into that slick, swollen, loving, welcoming portal of love. I felt my rigid tool piercing into her pussy, spreading her lips, enjoying her warm, damp, tight channel of pleasure. I felt my hips press up against her shapely, womanly buttocks. I buried myself to the hilt in her love canal. As I reached beneath her torso, to grab her dangling breasts, I noticed that here eyes were fixed upon the photo of Jim on the night stand; she was totally in love, and was dedicating this fuck to him. No matter; he may have been the one getting the dedication, but I was the one getting my nuts off. I pounded into her sopping pussy, over and over, faster and faster, deeper and deeper, enjoying the moist tightness of her snatch, fondling the pendulous masses of her breasts, and feeling the exquisite build-up of spooge in my balls.

We pounded away, for long minutes, my shaft stroking back and forth in her velvety vagina, my slack mouth drooling saliva onto her back and neck, my thighs pressed against the warm back of her legs and buttocks. I felt the skin of my cock, so lovingly sheathed by her smooth wet pussy, so tightly gripped by her loving womanly essence, stimulated in that magical way that we all know so well. I heard the slapping sound of my balls against her pubic mound, of my thighs against her butt cheeks, and the bouncing of the bed springs. I smelled the musky scent of her pussy, and our mingled sweat, and the faint whiff of the scent of her anus below my face. I saw the rippling muscles of her back and ass, the gyrating motions of her hair as her head thrashed, and the smiling face of Jim in his picture frame. All of my senses were alive, heightened, and enjoying our carnal, needful fuck.

We worked up to a rhythm, back and forth, over and over, and eventually we both came, thunderously. It wasn't nearly as intense as our previous explosions, but we came simultaneously, my cock launching a stream of semen into her body at the same time that her pussy clenched and unclenched and her pelvis rocked, and we shared wave after wave of pleasure. Then, coming down off the high, we slowly, together, lowered ourselves to the bed, lying flat on our bellies, me on top of her. We dozed.

Several hours later, we awoke. Somehow, we had become disentangled, and were lying next to each other, my arm around her waist and one leg over her hip. Jim was still there on the night stand, watching us. He didn't seem displeased. Mandy didn't either. She smiled at me, and touched my cheek.

"Thank you," she said.

"No problem. I'm glad I could solve your Powerpoint problem."

"That isn't what I meant, you bastard," she said jokingly.

"Why don't you call your husband, and tell him that you love him," I suggested.

She looked at the clock. "It's three in the morning in Dallas," she chided me.

I wrapped myself in a towel, grabbed up my clothes, and headed for the door, to spend what was left of the night in my own room. I blew her a kiss. "All the more reason," I told her, as I pulled the door shut behind me.