Will & Terri Ch. 01

Through her fog of desire she managed to view herself almost as an observer from the beach, the moon pallidly illuminating her skin, two thin white stripes offsetting her tan shoulders, midriff and legs, her brown locks waving with her hysterical movements, her bosoms flattened into Jonathan's chest, his breastplate stimulating her nipples with each movement, the muscles of her calves straining and relaxing as she alternately rose and fell on her lover, and most importantly, her vagina clamping onto his scepter through the cycle of lust, roughing her clitoris to excitation with every stroke.

Smells permeated her dilated nostrils: the salt of the sea, faint perfumes of night blooming tropical buds, an acrid, artificial scent of ammonia, residue from the cleaning woman, the aftershave and deodorant Jonathan had applied earlier that evening, and the powerful stench of perspiration, unwashed from the agitated dancing of earlier, and now, the feverishness of their joint rage.

Nor was her sense of hearing impoverished. Crickets and other insects buzzed, trilled and trumpeted, the surf thundered in the distance, breezes rustled the palm leaves. Her own breath came in short, sharp gasps, her lover whispered raucous entreaties in her ear, and obscene slurps emanated from the conjoined genitals with each stroke.

She concentrated on the sensations being applied by the man below her, how his hands stroked the large muscles of her exposed back, the insides of her legs, the swell of her rear end, the throat and her lips. She sucked on the proffered finger, enjoying the salty taste and the friction on her lips and tongue. She pleasured her hand in the locks of his hair. Then all sensation was suddenly converged in her labia, how it clenched Jonathan's wand, the twinge of pleasure each time his pubic bone met her clitoris, the deep sense of fulfillment at the conclusion of every piercing as her innards were filled with his length.

She waited for, she willed their orgasms to transpire and rapidly shifted from side to side and front to back, bringing forth the coming ecstasy. At last she drew the first tremors from the truncheon and placed a hand between them to better stimulate her distended button. Within seconds she sensed his relentless throbbing, perceived a slight increase of pressure as the lubrication of his cream liqueur spewed into the plastic tip, listened to the siren of his moaning. It was then that the spasms hit her, darkness overtaking all of her senses, replaced by flashes of crimson. Fever fumed through her body, focused at her tunnel, reached out to every extremity, the soles of her feet, the nape of her neck, and, most pleasurably, her aureoles, distended and rosy.

Terri's first thought when the pounding of the majestic climax subsided was of Jonathan's stiffness still plumbing her depths. Tenderly she fondled her newfound lover, thanking fate that he was more than competent and chose to be interested in her pleasure as well as his. They spooned together, kissing and fondling until the phallus within her softened and she was afraid the liquid would spill from the protection. She reluctantly rose, releasing him.

She stepped to the bathroom, dampened a face cloth and cleansed her belly, thighs, and the area between her legs. She rinsed the cloth and brought it to Jonathan, now sitting inside on the sofa. She cleansed him, moved one of his feet onto the back of the couch, the other remained on the floor. Terri crawled between these limbs, reclined on her side, her head on his shoulder. In this position they had access to each other's nudity, and they took advantage of it, kissing, fondling a breast, a testicle. It was a soft, mutual cool down period.

"That was wonderful," Jonathan said, his tone indicating so much more.

"I'm glad you thought so," she responded. "I can't believe how satisfied I am. You seemed shocked when I wanted to come over here."

"A little. The last time anything like this happened to me, I was in college."

"Tell me what happened," Terry encouraged.

"I was a graduate assistant. My boss was a full professor, she was married. One night we were working late, I was bent over the research results, and I felt her hand on the back of my neck. Next thing you know, she's on the desk, her skirt is up around her waist and we're going at it, the papers I was organizing flying all around." He stopped to smile at the remembrance. "For the rest of the semester, when I got to the lab I didn't know if I was going to get chewed out for sloppy work or laid. It sounds like something you'd see late at night on Cinemax, doesn't it?"

"And this is right out of Red Shoe Diaries, isn't it?" Terri remarked.

"Can I ask you something," Jonathan wondered. "Why me?"

"You mean, why did I leave with you?"

"Yes, why did you pick me?"

Terri halted, trying to isolate why, indeed, she'd finally agreed to go with Jonathan when for years she'd been hesitant to give in to her husband's other suggestions. "You're a good dancer," was the reason finally given.

It seemed to be a good enough premise for Jonathan. "Does Will always share you with other men? Not that I'm complaining, mind you." While he asked the question, he stroked her belly, cupped a breast.

Terri laughed. "Sometimes I think he'd like to. He's dreamed about this night for years. But this is the first time I've given in."

"Really?"

"Really," she confirmed. "This is the first time I've ever done anything like this."

"Tell me about it," Jonathan asked.

"Early in our marriage, Will was traveling, there were flirtations, my old boy friends would call me up and I'd go have a drink with them. But when they made moves, I rejected them. I'm married to the perfect man, you see, and I didn't want to mess it up. Then, over the years I stopped caring, didn't think I looked as good, all the men knew I was seriously married, no one gave me a second look. Then Will started asking me if I was interested in other guys. I wasn't, but talking about it seemed to get him going, so I let him. Then he started to encourage me, but I never had either the desire or a real opportunity. In fact, my desire for sex went way down after I put on quite a bit of weight."

While she talked, she fondled Jonathan's testicles, felt them tighten as he started to strengthen again. "But recently I've slimmed down, and I noticed I was getting a few looks again. Will spotted it too, we started talking about me having an affair again. I was nervous about it, didn't think I'd do it. Tonight when Will saw us dancing together, he suggested it to me again. You seemed like you'd like to, I decided to go ahead."

Jonathan added, "And I'm the fortunate recipient. Thank the lucky stars."

Terri gazed out the open patio door, saw Luna nearing the horizon and corrected him. "I prefer to thank the lucky moon."

She continued to play with his now recovered rod, less stiff than earlier, but still adequate for the purpose. He shifted her so his mouth could tease her nipple. His hand went to her honey pot, teased the clit, perforated the tunnel. Again they moved, he was on top of her, his penis resting at her entrance. "There's another condom in my purse." He held himself up, off her, while she stretched to grab it. Quickly it was rolled over the ready rod, he sunk down again, onto her, and slowly, inside her. There were no hurried moves this time, only the slow, sure strokes of pleasure. Terri wondered at this stranger she was letting violate -- no, succor -- her, and wished for their harmonious gratification. From long experience at this endeavor, she realized she was unlikely to come, but she still relished the sensations, the warmth above her, the smell of his body, the quickness of his breath, the manner of his passionate kisses, the gentle stroking of his lubricated penis inside her moist sheath. He shifted slightly within her, above her, searching for supreme penetration, maximum satisfaction, and she assisted, splaying her limbs, pulling on his buttocks, pinching a nipple, sucking on a proffered tongue or finger. Once or twice she felt he was approaching completion, and she encouraged him, but he would stop, allowing the moment to pass, then commence his exertion anew. She realized he was waiting for her, wanting her to join him in orgasm, and she knew that this position would not allow her that.

"Let's go on the bed," she suggested, and they unlinked, moved to the mattress. She knelt on the edge, presented her rear to her lover, he stood behind her. Just a small adjustment in height was necessary, and he entered her again, sluggish plunging that moved in different directions, even circles, that enticed her, excited her. She bent down, her shoulders to the mattress, and allowed the stimulation behind her to bring her to climax. The sensation was neither stupendous nor lingering, but there it was, just the same, and she was glad for it. She moaned, a little more loudly than necessary for his sake, then tightened her vaginal muscles to bring about his bursting. Quickly, she was gratified to sense the change in his movements, the twitching within her, and she pressed back, waiting for all of his seed to erupt from his opening. Only when he teetered back, away from her, withdrawing, did she twist and allow him to collapse on the bed, half on top of her.

The couple, now calmed, felt satisfied just to hold each other. They may have dozed. Terri felt Jonathan shift, move from the bed. From the bathroom, she heard him call, "would you like anything from the mini-bar?"

"I don't think so." Then she reconsidered. "Maybe some juice?"

"One orange juice, coming right up."

She felt him, more than saw him in the dim light, move to the small refrigerator. As he opened the door to retrieve their beverages, she observed the man she'd made love with, his privates joyfully lewd in the bright illumination of the electric bulb.

She stood, accepted the glass. "What time is it?"

"Let me see." Jonathan turned on the bedside lamp, got his watch. "almost five o'clock."

"Oh, dear." She stretched, working the kinks out. Jonathan enjoyed the sight of her graceful body, breasts slightly drooping with age, the dark patch of hair at the junction of her legs. "I hate to say this, but I probably should be going."

"You can't stay?" he pleaded.

"I'd like to, but I shouldn't."

"May I walk you back?"

She appreciated the offer, a woman out at night often feels insecure. "I'd like that, yes."

Jonathan retrieved their clothes from the balcony. A little self consciously, the spell beginning to dissipate, she pulled the dress over her head, covering the body she'd gleefully presented to him.

They stepped out of the love nest and began to stroll through the darkness. "Have you seen the waterfall?" he suggested.

"No. I saw it on the map, but we didn't get there yesterday."

"It's not far," he said, "come on." They turned a corner, the path ran close to the beach. In front of them, the sky was beginning to brighten, blackness merging to cobalt to indigo. Over their left shoulders, the moon, now nearly touching the horizon, shone goldly on the lovers. Three hundred paces led them to a slight drop in the level of the ground, soft electricity illuminated a staircase. The sound of rushing water competed with the trills of birds waking each other for the expected dawn.

Terri was ecstatic with the glen. The milky cascade toppled down a twenty-foot hillside, rippling a pool. Dozens of turtles napped on logs, fish stirred the surface, searching for breakfast. They sat together on a park bench watching the drama before them. The ardor of their togetherness was recalled, body touched body, lips touched lips. A hand crept under the skirt, through the fly. Passion began to overwhelm them again, and then, as if to say, "enough," the sounds of running feet, the warning of an early morning jogger, were audible. Quickly they broke from their passion.

"Really," Terri awkwardly petitioned, "I must be getting home now."

They took the same path back, past his room, around the swimming pool. White jacketed waiters were readying the tables for breakfast, the rich scent of brewing coffee wafted around them. The portable dance floor, the musical instruments of the band were stored now, waiting for sunset to infuse other lovers with their sorcery. Could it be only five hours since she'd met Jonathan, Terri thought, it seemed like days. Through the palms the last sliver of moon dipped over the horizon, swallowed by the Caribbean. The magic of the night was now, officially, over.

They strolled the path to her room, clinging to each other. "I'd like to see you again," Jonathan said.

"I'd like that too, but I don't know. It depends on Will."

"I thought he was encouraging you to be with me."

"He was, but that was last evening, under the influence of the night and drinks. We've never done this before, I'm not sure now that he'll want me to do it again."

"Will you ask him?"

"Oh, yes," she said, coming into his arms for the last, most tender, kiss of the night. They broke, and Jonathan reached into his pocket, took a business card from his wallet. "I'll be here for two more days," he explained, "if you want to, just come over and knock on my door. Or call me, leave a message if I'm not in. If we can't get together down here, or things change, phone me in Chicago."

"I'll see. No promises." They were now just a few yards from Terri's room. "I had a wonderful time," she said, "and I'll never forget you."

"I really hope we can see each other again."

"We'll see." She knew he wanted one more embrace, but it was time to bid adieu. "Good night," she called, walking away from him.

"You mean 'good morning,'" he corrected, and then he was gone.

As she stepped to the door, Terri's thoughts went to her husband. How would he take it, now that she was no longer chaste, pure? A wave of guilt began to invade her happiness, but she fought it off with the realization that he desired this, he'd pleaded with her to be unfaithful. In a way, he was as guilty as she, perhaps even more so.

She considered her appearance. She wanted to look presentable for her man, not like a woman who'd been out all night doing who knows what. Taking a small compact case out of her purse, she combed her hair in the tiny mirror, repaired her mussed lipstick. The rest, she realized, would have to be good enough. She unlocked the door, nervous about what might happen when she did.

Will was sprawled on the bed, naked beneath the sheets, just as he always slept, even in the dead of winter. His sonorous breaths proved he was dozing. As noiselessly as possible, Terri retrieved a skimpy nightgown from the closet, closed the bathroom door behind her. Another sponge bath, a brush of her teeth, a drink of water, and she was ready for bed. She crawled in beside Will, and he stirred.

"What time is it?"

She looked at the bedside clock. "Five-thirty. Dawn."

"Did you just get in?"

"Yes." She cuddled up to him, her back to his front, their favorite spooning position.

Will yawned. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yes," she admitted sheepishly, "a very good time. You were right, this is something I should have done long ago." Although it was said with pleasure, it was also a tacit reminder that he was as culpable as she was.

"You had sex then?" She could tell that it was simply a question, not an accusation.

She twisted her face over her shoulder, looked at her husband of two and a half decades, kissed him. "Yes. Do you want to hear about it?" In all the fantasies they'd ever dreamed together, he'd wanted to know details, specifics, and she was prepared to share the evening with him if he wished.

"Yes," he begged, "if you don't mind."

For five minutes she laid in his arms, telling about the first kiss, details of how she'd become naked in Jonathan's arms, how he'd fondled her, and then, on the bench, how she'd mounted him, had this stranger inside of her, let him enjoy her, ejaculate into her. Her description was turning Will on, she realized, as his member pressed into her posterior. She wondered if he wanted to make love to her, and she decided she'd cooperate if he did. She'd never even considered having sex with two different men in the same night before, and the thought was a little kinky; she relished the perversion.

"What did you do then?" Will encouraged her to continue, thinking there might be more.

"We cuddled on the couch, talked. We made love again, on the bed. Later, we got up, took a little walk, and then I came back here." She was tired of the subject now, wanted to change it. Indeed, she realized that over the coming weeks they would probably dissect each movement; she didn't mind exposing the details, but not right now. She turned around, faced him. She kissed him, pressed her body into his, tried to tell him with body language what it was she desired now. "What did you do after you left?"

"Came back here, tried to watch a movie. I couldn't concentrate on it, I kept thinking of what you were doing. I went out after an hour, took a walk. Then I came back here, tried to get a little sleep. I kept waking up though, wondering about you."

"I'm sorry," she commiserated.

"Don't be. I'm glad for you. Can I ask you another question?"

"Of course."

"Did you have an orgasm?"

Again they kissed, passionately. "Yes," she admitted with embarrassment, "a big one."

Will's hands began exploring her body, her breasts and her engorged labia. She prepared to stimulate him, to make him feel as good as she had in the past few hours. "One more question, then I'll stop for tonight."

"All right," she agreed.

"Do you want to see him again?"

"A little," she timidly admitted. Even now, she was hesitant to concede, even to herself, how desperately she wanted both men. "Would you want me to?"

"Tonight is the full moon," he curiously concluded.