Even before she walked into the room at the country club that Saturday night, Cynthia knew going to this stupid Halloween party wasn’t going to be fun. Halloween parties were for little kids, not grown up adults and certainly not for people like her husband. That she’d have to endure the party with her husband, Harold, only made it worse.
Part of the problem was Harold was not fun to be with because he was the Chief Financial Officer for a major corporation and didn’t seem to know what fun was. If he wasn’t spending twelve hours a day at his office and then another three hours reading the latest financial reports, he was either asleep or eating.
The other part was that Harold was fifty-eight and Cynthia was forty-seven. When she was twenty-one and Harold was thirty-two, the difference in their ages didn’t seem all that big. He was just an accountant then, and they had time to be together.
Up until Harold was promoted to Senior Accountant, they’d had a good life. Weekends meant taking their two kids to Grandma’s house on a Saturday afternoon, dinner out that night, a stop at a quiet, romantic bar for a couple drinks on their way home, and then making love until Harold climaxed. Sometimes Cynthia had an orgasm as well, but for her, the intimacy of being held and caressed was just as important.
As Harold aged and moved higher up in his corporation and the kids were living their own lives, those Saturday nights became twice a month and then once a month. The restaurants became nicer and more expensive as Harold’s income increased but the stop at a cozy bar on the way home became a stop at the country club where Harold’s membership was a perk of his position. Rather than being romantic and cozy, the country club was just like the expensive restaurants. It was filled with well off people who were more concerned about impressing the other members than anything else. Unfortunately, their lovemaking had declined to maybe once a month and then dwindled to nothing.
It wasn’t that Harold couldn’t perform. Cynthia had read that many men lose the ability to have sex sometime in their fifties because of hormone changes, but there was nothing wrong with Harold’s ability to get an erection. She’d seen him doing it to himself when he took a shower and didn’t know she was looking. He just seemed to put his business life before his personal life with her.
For Cynthia, the opposite had happened. When she turned forty-six she started what her mother had called the “change of life”. Cynthia had been expecting this to happen, so she wasn’t particularly worried about most of what was happening to her. What was of concern was that while she was losing the ability to reproduce, the desire to engage in sex was becoming stronger than it ever had been. Her doctor said it was just the way her hormones were changing and not to worry about it. She even chuckled and said Cynthia’s husband probably didn’t mind at all.
That might have been the case except for the fact that Harold seemed to have lost interest in her. It didn’t matter what she did. She’d tried wearing sexy clothes when they went out to eat. She got a lot of looks from other men. Harold didn’t seem to notice.
She’d tried walking around in just her bra and panties. That didn’t work either. Neither did sleeping naked instead of in pajamas like she always had before. Harold would just get into bed, say “Good Night”, and roll over and go to sleep.
Cynthia knew this party would be nothing but boring. Many of the people who’d be there worked with her husband and were probably just as boring as he was. Some would be executives at other companies who joined the country club to show off their success. Some would be doctors, dentists, or real estate developers. All had a lot of money. All were as boring as watching grass grow.
Their wives would be boring too. She’d met a few of them before and they were typical trophy wives – beautiful because they had the money to correct anything that wasn’t beautiful, snobbish because they wanted to be, and without more than a handful of brain cells between them. Cynthia wondered if a woman being beautiful, self-centered, and dumb as a rock were the qualifications to marry a senior executive or if all senior executives were just too boring to marry any woman who wasn’t boring too.
Still, Harold’s job was what let them live the life they lived, and Cynthia knew wives were expected to be at the party. She didn’t like it, but that was how life in the corporate world was.
She’d asked Harold what type of costume she should wear and he’d frowned.
“Just wear something that makes you look good. I can’t have a wife who doesn’t look good in public. Doesn’t fit my position in the corporation.”
Cynthia smiled and said she would, though it was somewhat of a slap in the face for him to tell her she had to dress up to look good. She got looks at the grocery store all the time even though she was just wearing jeans and a blouse or a T-shirt. She’d even heard one of the stock boys tell another stock boy that he’d take her to bed even though she was old enough to be his mother.
She started looking at Halloween costumes in Amazon and quickly decided none of them were something she’d ever wear. The models were all in their twenties with narrow, tight butts and perky breasts. Twenty years and two kids ago, she could have gotten away with a sexy nurse’s uniform or a skin-tight camouflage army jumpsuit, but now she wore bras with D cups and her hips were as wide as her shoulders.
She did discover one costume that she thought might work, but decided she didn’t have to buy it because she already had most of what the costume needed. The next day while Harold was a work, Cynthia made a trip to the mall for some things she didn’t have and then came home for what she already had in her closet.
Cynthia hadn’t worn actual stockings in years. She seldom wore them at all since she usually wore pants. If she did wear a dress, she wore panty hose because they were easier to put on and the control top helped hold in her belly a little.
It felt sexy to put on the black lace garter belt and then the black lace thong panties. It felt sexy to slide her legs into the black nylon stockings. When she looked in the mirror, what she saw should definitely make men look. Of course, they wouldn’t see anything except the stockings, well, unless she picked a dress or skirt that rode up when she sat down. Then, they might see the lace tops of the stockings. Cynthia thought she could make that happen too.
She hadn’t worn the corset in years. It was black leather and she’d bought it in hopes of stirring a little lust in Harold. That hadn’t worked very well, but Cynthia had kept it because she thought it was pretty. When she tried it on and then looked in her full-length mirror, she smiled. The corset didn’t really have cups for her breasts like a bra. Instead it was made to lift them both up and push them together so they formed two high mounds on her chest with a deep cleft between them.
Cynthia stretched up her arms and then bent over at the waist to make sure her breasts stayed inside the corset enough that her nipple beds didn’t show, and then smiled again.
“If this doesn’t get me some stares, I might as well give up.”
What to wear as a bottom was easy too. She’d been looking for something to restart Harold’s libido one day and found a skirt she thought might do it. It was long enough it covered her legs, but it was slit up both sides enough if she’d worn regular panties they’d have showed with every step. Cynthia put it on and then grinned. The skirt hadn’t done anything to Harold except make him frown and tell her she was showing too much, but when she stepped out, her leg slipped out of the skirt high enough she could see the lace top of her black stockings. She thought any normal man would be at least a little aroused.
The look she was going for was a sexy vampire, and Cynthia thought she’d accomplished that look. The black, patent leather high heels she put on made her legs look longer and the combination of the skirt and corset made her look like every sexy vampire she’d seen on TV. She doubted it would do anything to Harold, but maybe she’d get some compliments from other men. That would make Harold feel good when she told him.
Those compliments would also make Cynthia feel good about herself, because even though she wasn’t a young, slender woman anymore, it would tell her she could still turn a head or two.
The afternoon of the party, Cynthia went to her hair stylist to get her dark brown hair trimmed, styled and to get the little silver strands that seemed to be getting worse touched up. She’d kept her hair long because Harold liked it that way and all the vampire women she’d seen on TV had long hair that fell in waves over their shoulders so she had the stylist give her hair some soft waves. While she was there, she got a manicure and had the girl paint her nails with black polish.
The social hour would start at six and Harold hated being late to anything.
“Part of being a senior executive, you know. Didn’t get to where I am by being late to anything. Sets a good example for the younger crowd too.”
Cynthia took a shower at three and shaved her legs and armpits. By four-thirty, Cynthia had done her makeup, and when she looked in the mirror she was happy. She’d never used black lipstick before, but it made her face look really pale, just like the vampire women on TV. By five, she was dressed and making sure that her breasts stayed put and that her skirt was in the right place to show her legs when she walked or stood with one leg in front of the other. It was then that Harold walked out of the bathroom.
Harold had bought a costume and when Cynthia saw him in it, she had to keep herself from laughing. It was the striped uniform of a convict, complete with a number and a striped hat. He looked like he was wearing striped pajamas. It would have been cute on a small boy. On Harold, it looked ridiculous.
It was when they walked into the room at the country club at five ‘til six that Cynthia again had second thoughts. Because the nights were getting cold, she’d worn a light coat that hid her costume. When she looked at the other women, she almost turned around and walked out. Almost none of the people there were wearing actual costumes. Most were just wearing the same clothes they’d probably worn in the 1970’s, or 1980’s and a couple of the older wives were wearing clothes from the 1960’s.
She saw a few women dressed as hippies with low rise jeans and tie-dyed tops. She saw several dressed as disco dancers with sparkly jump suits and clunky heels and figured they had to be wearing spandex underwear in order to stuff their bodies into the tight clothes. None of the costumes showed as much skin as Cynthia was going to show either.
The men’s costumes were also uninspired, just like Harold’s. Cynthia saw another convict, several policemen and a few doctors in white coats. Cynthia knew at least three of them were actually doctors, so they hadn’t really dressed up at all.
The only thing that kept her from telling Harold she’d developed a splitting headache and was going home was one of the men. Apparently they were all like Harold because they were all in a group holding their drinks and talking, but one looked up when she walked into the room. He was dressed like a pirate and he’d spent some money to do so. His costume looked really accurate from the tri-corner hat with a huge feathered plume down to his leather boots with the tops turned down at the knee. His shirt was open enough at the neck Cynthia could see that he had quite a chest full of hair.
Cynthia took off her coat and then stood there while Harold checked both their coats and then came back to ask her what she wanted to drink. Most of the wives were holding wineglasses, but Cynthia was nervous enough she opted for a vodka martini. After Harold brought her the martini, he walked over to the group of men and left her standing there alone. After a significant gulp of her martini to steady her nerves, Cynthia walked over to the wives.
The woman Cynthia recognized as the wife of the CEO of Harold’s corporation smiled and welcomed her to the party, but quickly went back to the conversation she’d been having. Cynthia listened for a while, but it only confirmed what she already knew. That topic of the conversation was if they favored Botox injections or went all the way to plastic surgery.
Cynthia finished her martini and then looked for Harold. She didn’t find him, but saw that the man in the pirate suit was watching her. He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows up and down a couple times when they made eye contact. Cynthia turned around and walked back to the bar. She was happy at least one man had noticed her, but he looked pretty young.
By the time Cynthia had gotten her second martini, someone announced that dinner would be served in a few minutes so all guests should take their seats. On her way to the bar, Cynthia had walked through the tables and had already found the placecards for her and her husband. She walked from the bar to her seat and then looked for Harold.
He was still talking. Cynthia waited patiently until he finally saw her and started walking toward their seats. Cynthia was a little shocked to see the man in the pirate costume following him. She was more shocked when Harold stopped and introduced her.
“Cynthia, this is Mike Richards. Mike, this is Cynthia, my wife. Maybe you two can find something to talk about. Cynthia used to work with computers before we got married.”
Cynthia looked at the place card beside hers. It said, “Mike Richards”.
Cynthia finished most of her martini while eating the roast beef, mashed potatoes, and broccoli. She tried to avoid looking at Mike for fear he would try to start a conversation. It was when she put down her fork, dabbed at her lips with her napkin and then picked up her martini that he did.
“So, Missus Richards, Harold said you used to work with computers. I work in IT, so we have something in common. What exactly did you do?”
Cynthia tried to be non-chalant, but that was hard because when she turned to face Mike, he was staring at her breasts.
“Oh, not much really. I was the SAP consultant. I just helped other employees learn how to use SAP.”
“You’re better than I am then. I’m still not sure I understand SAP very well. It’s supposed to be a user-friendly management system for everything from product planning to manufacturing to supplier and customer relations, but the terminology is all screwed up as far as I’m concerned. I suppose that’s because it’s used in most countries in the free world. You’d think they could tailor it for different languages, but they don’t seem to understand English very well. I still haven’t figured out how they translated start of production into realization.”
Cynthia wanted very much to get away from Mike but she didn’t want to seem rude.
“Yes, we had a problem with lots of the terminology. I uh…I need to go check my makeup after eating if you’ll excuse me.”
Cynthia didn’t way for an answer. She just stood up, picked up her small purse, and walked to the restroom. Once there she did check her makeup, but mostly she was just waiting out the clock. It was almost eight and at eight there was supposed to be a dance. Harold didn’t dance, so he’d probably want to leave.
After ten minutes, Cynthia walked out of the restroom and down the hall toward the dining room. When she turned the corner she was thinking that if they got home early enough she could still catch a movie on cable before bed. As a result, she ran right into Mike.
Mike caught her around the shoulders and then grinned.
“Well, this was a happy accident, now wasn’t it? I caught a gorgeous, sexy vampire in my arms. That’s a lot more than I figured I’d get tonight.”
Cynthia was standing on her own, but he still had her held in his arms. She was close enough her breasts were lightly pressing into his chest. She smiled.
“I’m sorry. I was just thinking about something. You can let me go now.”
“Why? Are you afraid I’m a real pirate and will drag you off to my cabin and have my way with you…not that I’d mind doing that by the way. Uh…that would be the having my way with you part, not the dragging you off part. I never force a woman to do anything she doesn’t want to do.
“Besides, if I let you go, what are you going to do? Go back to Horny Harold or to that bunch of Stepford Wives cackling about their hairdressers and massage therapists?”
Cynthia’s mouth fell open.
“I take it you didn’t know that’s what the women at work call him. He’s always staring at the women in the office and making these remarks to them that can be interpreted two ways. He’s a sly bastard, he is. Never says anything really sexual to any woman, but it’s there. Just yesterday he asked Connie why in the world her husband had divorced her for a younger woman because he’d never do that to a woman with what he called her attributes.
”If you knew Connie you’d know why he said that. Connie is…well, like you seem to be, Connie is generously endowed and she doesn’t do much to hide that fact. She’d seen Harold staring at her before he told her that. Evidently Harold likes women with big breasts.”
Cynthia tried to stay calm, but it had been a long time since she’d been this close to a man, even to Harold, and it was affecting her.
“I can’t believe Harold would ever do something like that.”
“Why, because he never touches you anymore?”
Cynthia pushed herself gently away.
“You don’t know that.”
Mike grinned again.
“No, I don’t, not for sure, but I know when a woman dresses like you are, she’s looking for something she’s not getting at home.”
“If I told Harold what you just said, he’d have you fired and make sure you never worked for any of the company offices again anywhere in the world.”
“I don’t work for the company. I just got invited to the party because the CEO likes me. I’m a private contractor working on a contract. The worst he could do is end the contract and pay me the separation payment I wrote into that contract in case that happened. I’d collect my money and go on to another contract. I don’t seem to have a problem finding clients. It’s more of a problem scheduling them.”
Cynthia went back to her seat with the intention of telling Harold she was ready to leave, but he wasn’t there. She was looking at the crowd and trying to find him when Mike walked up, pulled out his chair, and sat down.
“I don’t think he’s going to be ready to leave like you want. He’s over there in the middle of the senior executives of the corporation. I stopped by to listen, but they’re talking about some pending merger. Pretty boring stuff if you ask me, but given what I’ve seen Horney Harold doing at the office, I’d say you’re going to be here for at least a couple more hours.
“We might as well make the best of it. I seem to be the only man here interested in you and you sure as hell are the only woman here I’m interested in. I see the DJ is getting set up. Do you dance?”
Cynthia hadn’t danced in years and that’s what she told Mike. He just smiled.
“It’s like riding a bicycle and having…well other things isn’t it? I mean, once you learn, you never forget. Come on. The DJ is playing a slow song. Surely you can dance to that.”
When Cynthia reluctantly agreed, Mike led her to the small dance floor and held out his arms. Cynthia moved close enough to put her hand on his arm and let Mike take her hand in his. She was careful to maintain a socially acceptable distance between them.
Mike had been right. As soon as he began moving, Cynthia automatically began following. It wasn’t something she had to think about. She just had to keep that same distance between them by stepping with him. After a few seconds she began to relax.
Mike chuckled when he felt the change.
“For a while there it was like dancing with a mannequin but now you feel pretty good. I’m liking this a lot.”
Cynthia was as well, but not because she was dancing for the first time in years. She was enjoying the feeling of Mike’s hand on her back and the scent of his aftershave. Both reminded her of another time, a time when she’d danced with the man she was dating at the time. It had been a time when she was happy to be in a man’s arms because it made her feel desirable.
She tensed up a little when Mike let the hand on her back slide down to the swell of her hip. She hadn’t been able to feel much through the corset, but when his hand touched her through the velvet skirt, it made her body tingle all over.
This wasn’t right. She shouldn’t be letting a man touch her there. Her back was one thing. The dip where her back met her hips was quite another. Another wave of tingles swept through her and Cynthia knew she should pull his hand up again, but she couldn’t make herself do it. The tingling sensation made her remember how that had felt so long ago and then the vision of how it would feel if Mike touched her bare skin there.
The song ended then, and the next one was a lot faster. As he led Cynthia off the dance floor, Mike asked Cynthia if she’d like another drink.
Cynthia’s mind was still occupied with the way she felt because he still had his hand in the same place as he walked her off the dance floor. The only thing she could do was nod and say “vodka martini”.
She recovered while Mike was at the bar getting their drinks. When he sat her vodka martini down in front of her, he said, “Never really liked vodka martinis much. Not much taste to them in my opinion. They’re a woman’s drink anyway. Scotch is a man’s drink, just straight out of the bottle with no ice and no water.”
Mike grinned then.
“When I put something in my mouth, I want to get all the flavor on my tongue and hold it there for a while.”
He sat down and raised his glass.
“Here’s to the gorgeous vampire I met tonight. I wouldn’t even mind if you bit me on the neck...or anywhere else for that matter.”
Cynthia looked at Mike while she clicked her glass to his. He had a really odd smile on his face, a smile she couldn’t understand.
After she took a sip of her martini, Cynthia sat her glass down and looked around for Harold again. She found him sitting at another table gesturing to the other men around him with one hand and holding his typical rum and Coke in the other. She sighed to herself. Even his drink was boring.
That’s when she felt a hand on her thigh. She looked at Mike and that same odd smile was on his face. As she looked at him, she felt the hand move higher on her thigh, high enough to find the clip of the garter belt on her stocking top. Mike’s smile changed to a leering grin.
“I see you’ve gone all out tonight. Most women would have worn panty hose, and I hate the damned things. No way to feel the real woman unless you take them off and that’s impossible to do in a setting like this.”
Cynthia was going to stop him until another wave of little tingles shot up her thigh to her belly. Her heart beat a little faster when she felt that hand slide up her thigh a little more and then keep going. In seconds, Mike was feeling the place where her thigh merged into her torso, and the tingles were getting stronger.
When he took his hand away, Cynthia thought he was done, but he wasn’t. A second later, she felt him slipping his fingertips along the material where the slit in the skirt was, and a second after that, the electrifying touch of his fingertips against the bare skin just above the top of her stockings. She had to stop him then.
“Mike, I don’t think –“
“Cynthia, I don’t want you to think, I just want you to enjoy and from the look on your face, you are.”
Cynthia knew she should just stand up and walk away, but Mike lightly stroked his fingers over her thigh to her inner thigh. She caught her breath when she felt that hand moving higher, and then higher still. When Mike leaned over and whispered, “Scoot down in the chair a little”, she did that without thinking. As soon as she did, she felt Mike slipping his fingertips under the front part of her black thong panty.
He stroked the hair on her mound a little and then whispered, “Cynthia, open your legs.”
Part of Cynthia’s mind was screaming at her to go grab Harold and tell him to take her home. The tingles caused by Mike’s fingertips had changed to little waves of desire though. The waves won out over the logic and Cynthia spread her legs. She nearly gasped when she felt Mike slip his fingertip down over her clit and then over her inner lips. That was as far as he could go unless she scooted down until she was almost lying in the chair, but Mike didn’t ask her to do that. He just gently moved his fingertip up and down a tiny bit, just enough to send little waves to her core that then caused waves of desire in her mind.
She was feeling those waves build into what would ultimately be an orgasm when Mike stopped, picked up his scotch, and took a sip. Cynthia watched as he put the glass down and then raised his hand to his nose and inhaled. He smiled and said, “The scotch is excellent. So are you.”
Mike’s hand disappeared under the table again, and Cynthia’s heart began to pound when she felt his fingertip find her clit. Mike massaged the little hood over it and Cynthia had to stifle the moan that threatened to slip from her throat. As it was, she didn’t have to. Mike slowly pulled his hand out of her thong, slipped his hand along her inner thigh again, and then stopped.
Cynthia understood why Mike had stopped when he sighed.
“Well, it looks like your husband is done for the night because he’s walking this way. It also looks like you might have to drive him home. Damned shame really. I’d have liked to spend a little more time with you. Maybe someday…”
Mike stood up and walked away from the table then. Cynthia waited until Harold slowly walked up. Mike was right. Harold was in no shape to drive.
Cynthia drove them home and helped Harold into the house. He sat down on the couch and said he was going to watch a little TV before he went to bed. He turned on the TV, laid down on the couch, and promptly went to sleep. Cynthia waited a few minutes to see if he was going to wake up, and when he didn’t she shut off the TV and went to their bedroom to undress.
She was taking off the thong panty when she saw the card sitting just above the hair on her mound. She pulled it out and looked at it.
It was a business card and on the face it said, “Mike Richards, IT Consultant” and a phone number. On the back it said, “Call me”.
Somehow without her feeling it, Mike had put the card there, but it wasn’t a shock that she hadn’t felt it. All she’d felt with his hand there was little waves that told her she wanted more. He could have put anything there and she wouldn’t have noticed.
Cynthia put the card in the drawer of her nightstand and then took off her stockings. As she ran her hands down her inner thighs, she closed her eyes and remembered the little waves that had raced through her when Mike’s fingers had done the same thing. Cynthia knew she should feel ashamed, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t. It was like something inside her had been asleep and Mike had made it wake up. Cynthia didn’t know if she could make it go back to sleep again.
All day Sunday Cynthia struggled with the conflict going on in her mind. If Harold would just touch her once in a while, she might be able to put the genie back into the lamp, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen. Harold woke up on Sunday about noon and spent the afternoon reading the financial sections of the four newspapers he subscribed too. That was the way he always spent Sunday afternoon. He said it was so he was up to date on the latest financial data on Monday morning, but Cynthia suspected it was so he didn’t have to do anything with her.
Before she went to bed that night, Cynthia took a shower, and as she stroked her hands over her body, she closed her eyes and imagined how it would feel to have a man doing that to her again. It had been so long since that happened she couldn’t really remember. All she remembered was the feeling of Mike’s fingertip stroking her inner lips and clit and the waves of sensations that caused. She kept stroking a soapy fingertip over the same places until she felt the same little waves. After a while, the waves became huge breakers that crashed into her core. She was gasping for breath and holding onto the safety rail of the shower when the orgasm hit.
Yes, that was how it would feel, except it would feel better if a man…if Mike was doing it. Cynthia waited until she could breath again, then dried herself and went to bed.
The next morning, Harold had his usual boring breakfast of coffee and oatmeal and then left for work. Cynthia cleaned up the kitchen and then went to make the bed, but that same thought was still running through her head. At nine, she walked up to their bedroom, opened her nightstand drawer and took out the card. After she tapped in the phone number on her cell phone, she pressed send and waited.
She recognized Mike’s voice when he said “Mike Richards, how can I help you?”
Cynthia took a deep breath.
“Mike, this is Cynthia. You already know how you can help me. I just need to know when and where.”
She thought Mike would tell her he was too busy or at least give her a time in the future. He didn’t though.
“How about in an hour at the Regency on Sixteenth, Room 406? Don’t bother to dress up. You won’t be dressed for very long anyway.”
The door to Room 406 opened a few seconds after her knock. Mike was standing behind the door until she walked in. When he closed it, he was standing there completely naked and smiling.
“I hoped you’d call. I’ve been thinking about this since Saturday night.”
He didn’t say anything else. He just walked up, took her in his arms and kissed her. Cynthia was caught off guard by that, but only for a few moments. As soon as Mike’s tongue stroked over her upper lip, she opened her mouth. When Mike’s tongue touched hers, she felt the need inside her growing by the second.
Mike was still kissing her when he slipped his hands under her T-shirt, found her bra strap, and undid all four hooks. When he eased away, Cynthia felt her heavy breasts slip from the bra cups. She felt Mike’s hand stroking her left breast through her T-shirt, and then the cooler air when he began lifting the shirt over her head. He tossed the shirt into a chair, followed it with her bra, and then lifted both her breasts with his hands and smiled.
“I knew they’d be beautiful. I just didn’t know how beautiful.”
He bent down and took Cynthia’s right nipple between his lips then, sucked gently, then let it slip from his mouth only to close his lips on her left nipple then.
The shocks from that ran from Cynthia’s nipples to her core caused her to make a little moan. Mike softly chuckled.
“My, you are in bad shape aren’t you? We can fix that though.”
Cynthia could only stand there was Mike unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and started pulling them down her legs. He paused when he saw the blue thong she was wearing. He held her by the hips and pressed his face into her mound, inhaled deeply and then murmured, “Just like Saturday night”, before working her jeans down her legs. When they were down to her ankles, Mike untied Cynthia’s running shoes, slipped them off her feet, and then helped her step out of her jeans.
For a second after Mike started rolling the thong down over her hips, Cynthia had second thoughts, but when Mike slipped his fingertips down the cleft between her butt cheeks, Cynthia gave in completely. Her body wouldn’t let her do anything else. It was crying out to be caressed, to be stroked, to feel Mike’s nails lightly scratching her bare skin, and to ultimately feel his cock filling her.
When she stepped out of the thong, Mike stood up and kissed her again. This time, Cynthia felt his stiff cock pushing against her stomach and reached down. When she touched the rigid shaft, Mike broke the kiss.
“Uh-uh, Cynthia. You can do that next time. The first time is all about you.”
With that, he walked her to the bed, pulled back the sheet and blanket and sat her down on the edge with her feet on the floor. Cynthia didn’t resist when he pushed her onto back and spread her thighs wide. She looked down when Mike knelt between her thighs and she caught her breath when he gently pulled her lips apart with his thumbs.
Cynthia knew what Mike was going to do, but since no man had ever done that to her, she didn’t know what to expect. When Mike nuzzled the hair on her mound with his nose, she sighed. She was halfway through that sigh when she felt Mike’s warm, wet tongue against her outer lips. The sigh turned into a moan, and then into a longer moan when Mike’s tongue explored the ripples of her inner lips. When he licked the hood over her clit Cynthia’s body jerked and the moan became a gasp.
Mike didn’t say anything. He just started slowly running his tongue from Cynthia’s entrance to stroke over her inner lips and then up to her clit. I didn’t take long before Cynthia was starting to rock her hips up and down. That rocking became higher when she felt the shock that raced from her right nipple to her core when Mike rolled it between his fingers.
Cynthia felt the same wave of sensation when Mile rolled her left nipple, and she felt her body begin a slow trip through all those sensations that was going to end in an orgasm. That was before Mike slipped two fingers inside her, curled his fingers up, and move them up and down.
When he did that, Cynthia lost control of everything. Her body was acting on its own as if driven by some primal urge. Cynthia felt the surge building in her core, then spread from there to her thighs and breasts and mouth. She licked her lips and then gasped as Mile circled her clit with his mouth and started sucking in and out. In seconds she was arching into Mike’s face and stroking fingers. The sensations tightened her whole body until she was quivering so hard that when she gasped, “Oh God”, the words came out in two stuttered sylables.
A second later, Cynthia’s mind exploded as the orgasm swept her away from everything except the lips on her clit, the two fingers rapidly massing her just inside her entrance and the fingertips tightly rolling and pulling on first one nipple and then the other. She cried out when the first wave wracked her body. The second made her try to force her legs together, but Mike held them apart and kept sucking on her throbbing clit until Cynthia couldn’t take any more and pushed his head out of her crotch.
Cynthia lay there with her heart pounding in her chest and feeling her passage contract and then relax over and over as Mike lifted her up and then laid her on the bed. He climbed in beside her, then kissed her. Cynthia tasted herself on his lips. She thought the taste would be bad but it wasn’t. Cynthia realized it was her body’s expression of the intense feelings she’d just had and only made the thoughts in her mind more erotic.
Cynthia was still coming down from the orgasm when Mike began nuzzling her nipples again. She felt the tingles in her already tight core and tried to tell Mike she needed a little time.
“Mike, can we wait a little? I think I’m too sensitive.”
Mike sucked her swollen right nipple gently and then whispered, “Just relax. It only gets better the second time…for both of us.”
Mike’s hands stroking her side and hips eased the contractions in her core enough that Cynthia didn’t jerk when he cupped her mound and lips with his hand. She sighed when his fingertip explored deeper until he found her entrance. His two fingers inside her quickly stirred the little contractions in her core into another feeling of need, but this time the need was different. It wasn’t the need to feel the orgasm smash her mind into bits. It was the need to feel his cock penetrating her, pushing deep inside her as she felt the rigid shaft stroking in and out.
Before she realized it was happening, Cynthia was rocking her hips into Mike’s stroking fingers again. She spread her thighs as wide as she could so those fingers could probe deeper, deep enough she felt Mike’s palm flatten her swollen lips into the hollow of her thighs.
As her voice became little mewing moans caused by the sensations racing to her mind, Cynthia instinctively grabbed Mike’s back and pulled him on top of her. She looked down over the separation between her breasts and watched as the swollen head of Mike’s cock slipped up and over her now exposed clit. She watched as he moved his cock head down to her entrance and then back up over her clit again. His cock head now glistened with her wetness.
After three more of the same, Cynthia felt Mike’s cock probing for her entrance. She held her thighs open and pulled on Mike’s back as his cock head slipped past the tight spot just inside her. When he made some short strokes there, Cynthia gasped and reached down to grab Mike’s hips.
On his last short stroke, Cynthia heaved herself up and pulled on Mike’s hips. He groaned when his cock sank into her depths. Cynthia gasped as the swollen head stretched her inside and the rigid shaft caused a new wave of sensations to make her body contort to increase those sensations.
It was more than she remembered ever feeling with Harold. It was like Mike was locked inside her by his swollen cock head and by the tight contractions her passage was making in response to the feelings.
When Mike started stroking in and out, Cynthia got lost in all the sensations and her body just reacted. When Mike stroked his cock inside her, Cynthia’s body would lift into that stroke and she’d hold her breath until she felt the base of his cock pressing into her puffy lips. When he eased back out, she’d breath again, only to catch and hold her breath on the next stroke.
Those slow strokes were almost torture for Cynthia. They were inching her slowly along to another orgasm, an orgasm she craved, but she couldn’t wait. When Mike rammed his cock in and out quickly for a few strokes, the torture became almost unbearable. Cynthia dug her nails into Mike’s hips and began murmuring words that she spoke without realizing it.
“Oh God, don’t stop.”
Mike didn’t stop, but he did slow down. He bent his head, lightly pinched Cynthia’s right nipple between his teeth, and then whispered, “Let’s make this great for both of us.”
After Mike had done that three more times, Cynthia was going crazy. One second she was balanced on the edge of an orgasm and the next she was easing back down a little. Then, she’d feel Mike start ramming his cock in and out of her fast again, and she’d quickly find herself teetering on the edge again.
After the fourth time, Cynthia clenched her fingers in Mike’s hips, heaved her self up into his stroking cock and gasped, “Oh God, do it…do it now.”
Mike pulled out again and then groaned as he rammed his cock back inside Cynthia. She felt his cock throb just as the wave swept her over the top and into the abyss of an orgasm that turned her mind blank. She was dimly aware of Mike stroking out and then back in as his cock spewed his seed inside her four times.
For a while, Cynthia couldn’t move nor did she want to. She was content to lay there with her heart pounding in her chest and feeling her passage contract around the cock that filled her. If Mike sucked one of her nipples, she’d feel a little aftershock, not quite an orgasm, but close enough she’d gasp until the contraction went away.
When Mike’s cock did slide out of her, Cynthia felt the wetness of their juices leaking out of her and down between her cheeks. Before, when Harold was still making love to her and that happened, she’d have clapped her hand over her lips to stop the flow and then gone to the bathroom. Right then though, with Mike’s hairy chest pressing her breasts into her chest and his soft cock against her thigh, the feeling of warmth slowly flowing from inside her was a verification that she was still a woman, a desirable woman, a woman a man would want to have sex with.
Mike eased up off her then.
“Cynthia, you’re something else. I thought you’d be good, but I wasn’t ready for this. I haven’t cum so hard in a long, long time. I wish you could stay.”
“I don’t want to leave, but I have to. We uh…we could do this again though, couldn’t we?”
“I’d love to, but you’d have to travel a little.”
Cynthia raised up her head.
“What does that mean?”
“Well, my contract with your husband’s company is over this Friday and I have a lot of reports to write. Saturday and Sunday, I’m traveling for the job I start on Monday. I decided to head south for the winter so I scheduled a job in Negril, Jamaica. It’s at a hotel that needs some help installing the software and hardware for a new system for reservations, billing and for their electronic room lock system. I get a free room and free meals at the hotel for the two months I’m working there.”
Mike grinned then.
“Just across from the hotel is a small island named Booby Cay. No, it’s not what you’re thinking. It’s named after the booby birds that live on the island. There is a nude beach though. I’d love to see you naked on the sand, and then show you how much I appreciate you when we get back to the hotel.”
“Sounds more like a vacation than a job.”
“Well, it will be sort of a vacation every night and on the weekends. It would be better if I had someone to enjoy it with though. That would be you if you can arrange it.”
As Cynthia drove back home, she was smiling. Mike had her cell phone number. When he got to Jamaica, he was going to call her and give her his room number. He also promised to pick her up at the airport.
Cynthia didn’t know how she was going to convince Harold that she should go to Jamaica for two months by herself, but she didn’t think it would be hard. He’d ask her why and she’d just tell him she needed a vacation and thought Jamaica would be a nice place to take one. What she did know is that she was going and nothing he could do would stop her. He probably wouldn’t miss her anyway.
Cynthia smiled to herself at what she’d become just because of one stupid Halloween costume party. If she hadn’t gone, she wouldn’t have met Mike and if she hadn’t met Mike, she wouldn’t have found out the woman she used to be was still inside her waiting to be set free.
She wasn’t that same woman though. Before, she’d had sex because it was what wives did. She’d enjoyed it sometimes too. Now, she was a woman who knew what she wanted and craved the feeling of a man kissing and stroking her body until she was ready to beg him to fill her with his cock and make her cum.
Funny, she thought, she’d never really used any word except for orgasm to explain the feeling of losing control to the feelings in her body. The word “cum” sounded a little obscene, but it was how she felt now and she felt proud that she now thought of herself as what a lot of those dumb wives at the party would consider to be slutty.
It wasn’t sex she’d had with Mike. It was an experience in freeing herself of everything she’d thought was right and wrong and replacing that with everything she hadn’t realized was missing in her life.
If feeling slutty could feel so good, Cynthia was looking forward to sitting on a beach in Jamaica completely naked and watching other men staring at her big, heavy breasts and the thatch of dark brown hair on her mound. She’d even open her legs so they could see her lips and then smile at the look on their faces.
That would be arousing, but what would be really arousing was watching Mike’s cock get hard when he watched her. He’d said there were places on the beach where a couple could find enough privacy he could…well, he’d used another word she’d never used before. He said they could find enough privacy he could fuck her right on the beach.
Yes, fuck was another one of those slutty words, but given how Cynthia felt now, she wanted Mike to fuck her every day because that’s what he’d done to her. He hadn’t had sex with her. He’d fucked her until she almost passed out.
She grinned then. Sometimes, she’d fuck him and she’d make him cum all by herself. She’d read in a magazine at her hair stylist how, if a woman was on top, she could time it so when she came the man would too.
When she pulled into her driveway, Cynthia felt the stirrings in her core all that thinking had caused and knew what she had to do. Half an hour later, she was standing in the shower and stroking a small travel size bottle of hairspray in and out of her passage with one hand while she pinched and rolled her nipples with the other. When she felt her knees growing weak, Cynthia knew she was getting close and moved her fingers from her nipples to her clit and began rubbing.
When she was recovering from the orgasm, she sighed. It wasn’t the same but it would do until Jamaica. Somehow, she’d get there and have sex on the beach with Mike. When he finished up in Jamaica, she’d find out where he was going next.
Cynthia knew love had nothing to do with it. She didn’t love Mike and he didn’t love her. I was just sex, but sex better than she’d ever imagined sex could be, and Cynthia wasn’t about to give that up once she’d discovered it. No matter where Mike was, she’d find a way to get there even if it was only for a day or two. If Harold started to object she’d just tell him if he was still fucking her once in a while, really fucking her instead of just having sex, she wouldn’t be leaving him for a man would could and would.
Cynthia grinned then. No, she wouldn’t tell Harold that because he wouldn’t understand what she was talking about. She wouldn’t have to anyway. Harold was so dedicated to his job that he’d never think about divorcing her. That would look bad to the corporation and set a bad example to the younger executives. He’d just let her fly all over the world to wherever Mike was working.
Cynthia shut off the shower and began drying herself. She was surprised that the towel caused her nipples to swell long and taut again, but then smiled. Mike had awakened her to what could be, and now that she knew…
She stopped before starting to stroke herself again. That could wait a while. She had things to do before Jamaica like buying a new swimsuit she wouldn’t wear and reading up on how many ways a woman can fuck a man. She wanted to surprise Mike just like he’d surprised her.