This Charming Man Ch. 02

Kaia's body went limp, but she was still enveloped by Phil. With her ankles at her ears, it was becoming difficult for her to take this compressed position anymore. She tried to push against his chest with her forearms, and Phil may have been dimly aware that she wanted to stop, but he wouldn't hear of it until he had his discharge. Instinctively, he gripped her tighter. His cocked pummeled into her gash. Covered with a film of sweat, Phil rasped incoherent dirty talk into her ear: "Cock, pussy, fuck, slut, cunt, big dick, take it, fuck, take my big dick." Indeed, his dick felt bigger as ever, swollen beyond belief. It felt so good to brutally fuck this young black girl with a big, swollen dick. He was so close, he was almost there, a few more strokes, and then at last he came—a seemingly endless ejaculation that erupted not just from his balls but from his whole body.

Face contorted, Phil tensed his toes and calves to hold his pulsating dick as deep in Kaia's cunt as it would go. He held her in place until at last the final drops of cum trickled out. Kaia was still pushing her forearms against him, and he now relented. They disentangled from each other. Kaia immediately went to the bed to flop down. "Oh, that was so intense," she sighed. "My pussy is going to be so sore tomorrow. But now I'm tired."

"Did I wear you out, Kaia?" Phil asked, not at all hiding his male pride.

"Yes, but I think it's the wine, too. I'm not used to it." Phil lay down next to her. They kissed sweetly. "I think I need to close my eyes for a moment," she said. "Don't go yet."

"Don't worry," Phil assured her. "I'll stay right here."

Kaia flipped over on her stomach and fell into a light half-sleep. Phil caressed her lovely black body, her flesh such a fascinating contrast with his white hand that moved down her back and up the mounds of her butt. Kaia was normally so active and energetic. It was rare thing for her body to be so vulnerable to him. He took this opportunity to take a last look at her cunt and saw his thick ejaculate coating her swollen lips and leaking from her hole. He spread her asscheeks to observe the dark star between them. He'd never had a chance to penetrate her anally, not even with his finger. Kaia thought it unnatural. Whenever Phil had tried, she gently pushed his hand away with an embarrassed smile. But now she was reposing in post-coital bliss with her defenses and inhibitions lowered.

Phil dipped an index finger in her cunt and brought a wad of cum to her asshole. He used it as lubricant and worked in his fingertip. With a little effort, he got up to his first knuckle, and moved it around. He stroked back and forth, massaging the anal passage. Kaia sighed with sleepy pleasure. Her thighs spread wider. That encouraged him to work up to the second knuckle, but he couldn't move it in much more, she was so tight. Phil enjoyed finger-fucking her forbidden hole for a little while and then took his hand away. He didn't want to exploit her, just explore her. He liked pushing her as any good teacher would.

His hand returned to caressing her firm, round ass cheeks again. He imagined that she'd sexually open herself even more her next lover, a man who'd probably be the one she would marry. When she returned to her homeland, she'd find a chaste young man from her island culture and conservative religion. They'd get married after a short courtship. He'd be as curious and lustful as she was. With her future husband, she would explore all the sexual variations possible between a man and a woman. Neither of them would ever lack satisfaction or have itches that couldn't be scratched. They'd have many children. Kaia was so sweet, sexual, and beautiful, her husband would thank God daily for the prize he had found.

"You're going to make a very good wife someday," Phil whispered to her as he covered her with a blanket. "It will be a lucky man indeed who marries you."

He kissed her on the cheek, got dressed, and walked upstairs.

* * *

Phil and I ate dinner together with our baby happily banging on her high-chair tray between us. My husband seemed distracted. He had a faraway look in his eye, a pensive smile across his lips. I tried to engage him in conversation, but he responded to my questions with only a few words. I knew he was thinking about Kaia. I didn't mind so much. He often got this way when an affair with a girlfriend had ended. I knew his wistful mood would pass soon enough. We cleared the table. He soaped up the dishes while humming to himself an old Cole Porter song. His melody joined up with lyrics in my head:

It was just, just one of those nights,
just one of those fabulous flights.
A trip to the moon on gossamer wings,
just one of those things.

We watched a bit of TV together in silence and then went upstairs to get ready for bed. I got settled under the covers and flipped through a magazine, while Phil was taking a shower. He padded naked from the bathroom to the bedroom toweling off his hair. I stole a glance at his long penis swaying between his legs and admired the angle of its dangle. He might share his cock with many other women, but this is something his girlfriends don't have, this causal nakedness, this quiet and intimate domesticity of a husband and wife tucking in for a night's sleep.

We both sleep in the nude, and Phil climbed into bed next to me. He opened up the novel on his nightstand. I don't think he was paying much attention to the story though. He hardly turned the pages. He was still lost in a reverie. I ignored him and kept up with my own reading, but at one point, and I had a funny feeling. I was sensing Phil's gaze on me. I turned my head, and indeed he was looking right at me, really for the first time all night. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"What?" I asked.

"I know something about you," he said slyly.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"You're a little vixen, aren't you?" he said.

Of course, I immediately knew what he was talking about, but I couldn't really respond. The rule was we never talked openly about his dalliances. He had me trapped in a sense. I couldn't admit what I knew, but it also would be transparent if I played dumb. So just I shrugged my shoulders. "Maybe I am a vixen, or maybe I'm not," I replied with as much mystery as I could muster.

But I'm not good at mysterious and began to smile a little. Phil's sly expression became a smile, too, and that made me laugh. Which made him laugh. Which made me laugh more. Soon we were both cracking up together, and I was laughing so hard it was almost difficult to catch my breath.

"I'll show you what I do to vixens," he growled and pounced on me, tickling my sides.

"Stop!" I cried, trying to push him away as I reached up to his armpits to tickle him back. He held his arms close to his body to prevent me and then attacked my sides with his fingertips. We wrestled playfully, aiming for each other's sensitive spots. My hand went for his balls, and Phil's for my pussy, and then he began to bite me, and then he was under the bed sheets going down on me with determination. I hadn't been expecting anything sexual tonight, just a quiet time in bed reading a magazine, but immediately I was horny as hell. His tongue burrowed into my channel and pushed my clit this way and that. I grabbed his salt-and-pepper hair and grinded his face into my crotch. God, I felt so wet.

What Phil was doing to me felt so different than Kaia's cunnilingus earlier that day. She had been exploratory, soft, and feminine, but Phil was confident and insistent. I loved his forceful, masculine tongue which was taking control of me even as it was servicing me. I loved his scratchy stubble on my thighs. And his lovemaking was imbued with so much more than Kaia's simple curiosity. That's not to say I didn't relish my fling with Kaia. Her tickling tongue had found all the right spots, and it had been undeniably hot to have a same-sex, extramarital experience. But ultimately, my afternoon with Kaia was little more a than a novelty. I was fond of her, but there was no emotional core. On the other hand, as Phil's tongue probed my cunt, his efforts expressed love, intimacy, and especially gratitude. He was thanking me for being such an understanding and loving wife. I not only permitted his affair with Kaia, but I had done my part to bring it to greater heights. I had arranged for her birth control. I had given her tips on how to turn him on. He was thanking me for caring about his sexual fulfillment. In return, he cared about mine.

"I need your cock," I moaned. Phil's came up from between my legs and moved his body above mine. His penis hovered close to my breasts. It had gotten hard while he was eating me. I wrapped my hand around it and tugged at it back and forth. Just touching its silky smoothness was setting me on fire. A drop of pre-cum glistened at the tip. I licked it off. "Put it inside me," I urged. "I need it now."

And Phil did what I asked. He positioned his body in the right spot as I guided him into my cunt. In a few strokes, he went all the way up. Arms supporting his body, he began pumping me, fucking me in such a way that the area above his cock would rub into my clit. It felt nice, and I thrust against him in such a way to accentuate the feeling.

"Hold on, I want to get something," he said, withdrawing from me. He dug around in his nightstand and picked out a silicone cock ring with little clit ticklers and a vibrating bullet. I watched him slide it down his handsome hard prick, already lubricated by my juices. The bullet was buzzing.

"Oh, I can't wait," I moaned, and I didn't have to. Phil slid his cock back inside me, and now my man was fucking me right, again pushing his body upwards to stimulate my clit. The buzzing toy, the little ridges, the way he was moving his hips ... it all felt so wonderful. And most of all, I loved his attention. This fuck was all about me. It was about his love for me and how grateful he was to be married a woman who understood him so well and cared about him so much. I felt his love and gratitude in each thrust. Since this fuck was my fuck, I didn't need to worry at all if I was pleasing him back. I let Phil do the work and allowed myself to become lost in the sensations he was giving me. My body felt as if it were floating off to a high cloud. A calm, glorious bliss surrounded me, enveloped me. I didn't feel pressure to reach an orgasm, and none seemed imminent. Instead, I was simply experiencing a wonderful sexual buzz, ramped up high, flowing throughout my body. My husband's thick cock went in and out of me, and for the time being, that's all there was. Normally, I have such vivid sexual fantasies. Normally during sex, my brain is as electrified as my body is, but this time my mind was peacefully empty. Any erotic thoughts I might have had were sublimated into my all-over body hum. My eyes stayed closed so I could allow myself to relax into these majestic sensations. I really didn't have any idea how long we were fucking. It felt outside of time. But at some point, I became aware that Phil was gasping and pumping his ejaculate into me with the buzzing tickler held firm against my clit. I gripped his dick with my vaginal muscles as I started to gradually descend from my high.

"Oh, you came," I cooed happily.

"Yeah, sorry. I couldn't help it."

"Oh no, don't be sorry. That was wonderful," I said. "I'm glad you came. Maybe you got me pregnant." I wrapped my legs around him, and my hips gave a little thrust upward trying to coax out the last drops.

We kissed goodnight. Like my obstetrician recommended, I made sure to fall asleep on my back so my husband's sperm could swim around inside me.

* * *

Anastasia and I sat drinking coffee in my living room.

"Can you come every Wednesday?" I asked.

"Yes, Wednesdays are fine."

"Do you do laundry, too?"

"Certainly, that's no problem."

"May I ask how long you have been a maid?"

"Not long," she admitted. "Just since my divorce." Her complexion was quite pale, her shoulder-length hair an ethereal blonde. She spoke in a Russian accent with a sultry huskiness. Anastasia appeared to be in her early forties and seemed a well-kept woman. Her clothes weren't expensive, but they belied a sophisticated sense of style in their wearer. Her hairstyle and make-up skillfully brought out her most attractive features. Her hands seemed well cared for, the recipients of a lifetime of manicures. They didn't have roughness to them like a maid in her forties should have.

I probed her for details about her divorce while being careful to not appear too nosy. From what I could gather, she'd just split up from her husband not three months before. It must have been an ugly falling apart, because she mentioned lawsuits.

"Well, at least that's behind you," I said.

"No, not really," she responded. "It's going to go on for a while. My lawyer says at least another six months. Maybe even a year or more." Anastasia seemed to enjoy talking about her break up, or at least she felt the need to unburden herself of her heavy story. It turned out that Anastasia had won full custody of the nine-year-old son she'd had with her ex-husband, whom she was now suing for alimony and child support. Her ex was quite wealthy and had a high-priced lawyer who was drawing out the dispute. But Anastasia's counsel was certain of an eventual windfall. Until then, she was broke and was taking any work she could find. I felt sorry for her. She seemed lonely and needy. I figured she wouldn't want a serious relationship right now but could still use some male companionship. She could use some hot sex with a handsome, charming man to make her forget her troubles.

"So you don't have much experience as a maid then?" I asked.

"No, not really. But I can try hard. I hope you'll consider me. I do need the work."

I just nodded and smiled. I wasn't hiring her for her cleaning ability anyway. During our conversation, I discreetly assessed her form and knew Phil would admire those shapely legs, those melon-sized breasts. It wouldn't take him long.