The Awakening of Christine
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The Awakening Of Christine: Chapter II free porn video
The Awakening of Christine Part 2
Christine lies on top of Jon after he had his fill. Nothing but deep breadths of exhaustion fills the air. I, still outside the bedroom on the living room couch, just stare at their joined, horizontal position. I am hurt, jealous, and want Jon to leave. From the moment he took her hand, Christine submitted willingly to his desires. Would she have done the same for me?
At the same time, my excitement of how Christine swayed, moaned, and reached orgasm under Jon’s thrusting tongue has tempered my angry emotions. The erotic vision won’t leave my mind.
After a minute or so, John puts his hands on Chris’ ass and slowly spreads her cheeks. She kisses him deeply and then turns her head to me, stretches out her arm, and motions me to come to her. I walk over and take her hand.
“Are you OK,” she asks.
“I think so, but I think it’s time for Jon to leave.”
Chris looks at me with a mocking sad face that tells me she would like to stay longer in his embrace. But she slowly rises from the bed and detaches from Jon; their sweaty skin makes a tearing sound as they part. Her pussy is red from pounding Jon and it glistens from saliva and semen. Her stockings show runs and snags from their tangled embrace.
Jon rises, slowly puts on his clothes, and without a word to either of us, leaves the room. Chris puts on a bathrobe and enters the bathroom to shower. I pour myself a glass of wine and ponder the future.
Aftermath
We talked about what had happened over next few weeks. I expressed to her my dread and envy at the thought of what the future might hold. Yet, I also shared about my pleasure at watching another man take her. In truth, the memory of their union and the notion of seeing something similar again we electrifying. I was conflicted. To willingly set a loved one free and see their pleasure and evolution is a foundation of love; but at what cost? Would I lose her? Does this mean I’m not good enough for her?
It took Christine some days to talk about her feelings. And when she finally did, it was with clarity and honesty.
“I love you so much and never want to be apart from you,” she said. “You were the dashing older man when I met you. You helped me grow up, supported me through law school, and have been so generous. You’re a wonderful lover, real wonderful, and always satisfy me.
“At the same time, I’ve always been so serious about everything. My career, our home, making sure to always make the proper impression on other people; I felt I had to be perfect.
“But I’ve changed over the past year. I feel more attractive than ever. I’m wearing clothes that flatter me. I feel sexual, and taking care of that sexuality is more important for me than many things right now. I need to be free to express my sexuality—to flirt, to tease, and to have fun. Remember, I never had the chance to do that before we met.
I want you to take this journey with me. I know it might hurt sometimes, but know you’re the only one who has my heart. I promise I will never lie to you and will always let you know where I’m at, in any way, with any one.”
Though she never fucked Jon again, she made it quite clear to me that if the situation and feelings were right with another man, she would not hesitate to surrender to his will or try to seduce him if it was her desire.
That Evening with Jon
In the meantime, Christine’s and my sex life moved into high gear. I guess this is what I’ve always heard about an affair “spicing-up” your marriage. Once, about a month after the evening she coupled with Jon, Chris was finally able to talk about her feelings and about what happened. I listened as we sat on our couch over a glass of wine.
“I loved the way he desired me,” Chris started. “The way he looked at me. The way he undressed me in his mind as he inspected me from head to toe. He was like a magnet; when he was with me in the bar, I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. When he stroked my thigh, I melted.
“In the room when you gave me to Jon, I decided to let go and let him use me as he wished. Just to be able to not worry about what to do was liberating. When he undressed me in front of you, I felt connected to you in a strange sense. It was like you also let go. I had never felt so vulnerable and naked in my life. When I saw you watched as he slid his finger inside me and probed without challenge, I don’t think I’ve ever been that turned on.
“When Jon took his clothes off, his body was so beautiful, much more so than I had imagined. He was so fit and hard. His cock was thick and large. And when I fucked him, he went way deeper in me than you and filled me up more than I ever thought possible. I don’t say that to hurt you; only to be honest.”
I was not hurt.
Paris
After some time, our conversations about that special evening dissipated into the everyday pressures of work. But I was lucky to receive a multi-million dollar bonus as a result of an anti-trust case which we won…I was the lead lawyer. So we treated ourselves in luxury beyond our normal lifestyle, which wasn’t too bad to begin with. But we were both very happy.
Christine continued to dress conservatively sexy and continued to explore, by herself and with me, her sexuality. We continued to watch our DVDs and experimented with “toys” that ran the gamut from anal plugs to wrist and ankle restraints.
During this period, I was asked to visit my firm’s Paris office for a 5-day meeting. I asked Christine to accompany me and just enjoy the city’s sites and shopping to her heart’s content. She gladly agreed and then we decided to extend the trip another 5 days to tour and enjoy France.
From the first day we arrived, I had to work. And while I did the usual boring lawyer stuff, Chris decided to skip the sites and go right to the Des Chanselise and shop the specialty boutiques. She bought beautiful, sexy outfits and lingerie from Prada, Versace, Ferragamo, and hosiery from Wolford and Aubade.
Q
During my first workday at the Paris office, I met a colleague from our Italian office that was in town to work on the same case. He was about my age, very elegant and charming. Before I went back to the hotel after work, we had a few drinks and got to know each other. He was married with grown up c***dren, and told me that, although he loved his family, he liked to use a high-end (and extremely expensive) escort service when he was in Paris. They provided him young women whom he took out to dinner and then back to his hotel room for the rest of the night. He loved doing it and suggested I do the same.
I laughed at his suggestion and tried to be nice by saying that my wife was with me on this trip and I don’t think it would be a good idea. He just shrugged his shoulders and said, “what a pity.” He then handed me a business card with the letter “Q” embossed on it and a phone number. “Next time you’re in town without your wife, I think you would enjoy what this firm can provide,” he said. I pocketed the card and thanked him, and then wished him a good time for later. “By the way,” he added, “they only take new clients by referral, so don’t forget to mention my name.”
I didn’t think much about the escort service on the way back to the hotel to meet Christine. And any thought I did have was gone the minute I walked into the room and saw her dressed for dinner. She wore a newly purchased Versace dress that fit her like a glove. It was a simple but classic black outfit, made from silk with a hemline about 2 inches above her knees. Her camel-colored stockings ended at a pair of black Prada pumps. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. How was I so lucky to be married to such a beautiful woman?
“And how was your day?” she asked with a quick smile. I could tell she was happy to be in Paris, out of the office, with a credit card that had no limit. “Do you like my dress?” she asked. I kissed her and whispered that “I love the dress, but I love what’s in it more.”
I let her know that the law case on which I was working was becoming complicated, with many international parties involved and I needed to travel to Berlin for four nights later in the week. She would have to stay behind in Paris.
Two Days Later…The Thought
I’m sitting across the café table from Julien. He is a professional escort to upscale women living and visiting Paris. He is tall, fit, and handsome, with tan skin signifying his North African heritage. Julien is 26 and has been with the “Q” agency for one year. He is an expert lover, experienced in all forms of erotic pleasure that might fancy his female clients. Let me explain how I came to meet him.
I had called Q’s phone number that was listed on the card my Italian friend passed to me. When a woman’s voice answered, and I immediately said I was of friend of *****. She was very polite and, in perfect French-accented English, asked if I was interested in a woman that evening. When I replied that I was actually looking for a male escort, she said that her service did not service gay clientele and began to refer me to another company. I assured her that this was not what I was looking for, and explained I wanted to provide my wife with company during our stay in Paris. She asked me what type of man my wife would prefer. I gave her my best guess based on Jon, and she said she had the perfect escort. I agreed to meet him and, if acceptable, hire him for three days.
He was perfect, and I knew Christine would like him. I told Julien to be a companion to her; take her wherever she wanted to go…museums, shops, restaurants, etc. He was not to be proactive with Christine sexually, but only respond to her desires if, in fact, there was no doubt in his mind she wanted to go in that direction. If she did, Julien was to bestow on Christine erotic pleasures using his highly refined skills. And when I returned, he was to report back to me, in detail, he and Christine’s time together. He agreed.
Initial Meeting
“I don’t want you to be alone in Paris, sweetheart,” I said that evening to Christine. “You don’t know the city that well and I would feel better if you had someone who could take you where you want to go, safely.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Christine, replied. “You’ll be gone only four nights and I can just eat at the hotel or in my room.”
“Nonsense! You’re in one of the greatest cities in the world. It would be a shame not to take full advantage of it,” I said. “In the morning before I go to the airport, I want to introduce you to a young man that a gentleman from the office referred me to. He is a professional guide and I hired him to watch over you while I’m gone. He’ll take you wherever you want to go, and make sure you get there and back without trouble. Anything you desire he can make it happen.”
“That’s very sweet, but are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
And so in the lobby of our hotel, I introduced Julien to Christine. After some greetings were exchanged, I hugged Chris. She whispered in my ear the same words she said before I gave her to Jon a few months before: “Thank you.” I needed to catch my plane and I was late.
The Report
The day after I returned from Berlin, Julien, as agreed, told me about the previous days with Christine.
“For the first evening I hired a Mercedes limo with a private passenger compartment, fully sealed off from the driver except for an intercom. I was dressed in Hugo Boss pinstripes, white shirt, and black tie; appropriate for the very special restaurant where I had made reservations, about 30 minutes outside central Paris. When I pulled up to the hotel, I could see your wife waiting by the lobby entrance, standing next to the doorman who was waiting to assist her. And as I had asked her to do, Christine was properly dressed for the evening. In fact, she looked spectacular in her black dress that fell mid-thigh, a petite gold necklace, and dark gray heels with a thin ankle strap.
“Because of the opaque car windows, she didn’t see me until we pulled up and I opened the door. Your wife’s face lit up. She gave me a warm hug and said, ‘Well, you look quite nice. Dare I say hot?’ I laughed and said, ‘of course, and only for you!’ Thus the beginning of our adventure in fine French cuisine
“Dinner was a joy; the food, the company, and the ambiance made for a special evening. As I personally know the restaurant’s owner, he gave us a table in private corner with muted light, which glowed dark red off the cherry-wood walls and on to our faces. Your wife and I sat next to each other facing the dining room but we did not touch each other. I enjoyed being with your wife; talking and laughing with her, looking into her eyes and at her shapely legs as she walked to the ladies lounge. You are a very lucky man to possess such a jewel. She is a testament to the more mature woman.
“After two hours with a full bottle and fabulous meal consumed, I called the limo on my mobile and we began the return trip back to her hotel. As we walked through the restaurant to exit, I noticed how faces turned in our direction. Both men and women gazed at Christine; some nodded their approval, some just stared. It was magical.
“During the return trip, we laughed and joked some more. At one point, I think for a joke, Christine jumped on my lap and put her arm around my shoulders. I remember us talking nonsense to each other’s face and then, naturally, we started kissing; first touching our lips, then our tongues, which finally took us to a complete lock. As I push deeper beyond her lips and moved with her tongue, she began to sigh. We would break our embrace, look at each other, and then lock again, often with your wife exploring and dancing with my tongue. During breaks I kissed her cheeks, eyes, and ears, probing and nipping at her lobes.
“After again caressing and kissing, I placed my hand on her thigh, which was fully exposed by her ever-rising hemline. At that moment you wife opened her previously crossed legs. I then ran my hands under the black fabric and hooked on to her silk thong, pulling it down passed her knees and across her shoes, which I removed in the same stroke. But I did not return my hand up Christine’s dress after I dropped her panty on the car’s floor. Instead I held her close and continued our kissing to allow her to feel the cool air on her exposed and defenseless pussy. With each passing minute, sweat beads multiplied on her forehead. Her breathing deepened and slowed, as the pungent smell of her perfume filled the dim compartment and my senses. I fell into another dimension.
“Once again I passed my hand along her leg, starting from her calf, along her thigh, and finally to her pussy. But I didn’t stroke your wife’s slit; I slipped my arm between her legs to embrace and fondle her behind. Christine began rubbing her pussy on the thin side of my arm, first slowly, then with a steady and accelerating rhythm. Back and forth, side-to-side, she kept her pace, taking advantage of the lubrication she herself provided.
“We stopped kissing and hugged, cheek-to-cheek, as she grew in passion, I could sense her rising excitement as she strived towards orgasm. I have been with a lot of women, but I’ve never witnessed such as sensuous display of self-pleasure in my life. Her dress, now almost totally to her hips, revealed a perfectly shaved and moist pussy that glistened intermittently as the headlights of oncoming cars passed us in the night.
“And as I watch this dance of pleasure, my own excitement begged me to her partner during this moment. So I squeezed and played with her behind; sometimes stroking it lightly to provide variation. And when I felt her climaxing, I took my middle finger, moistened by her sweat, and inserted it deeply into her rear orifice, at which she drew a massive breadth and held it. As she came, your wife’s anal contractions surrounded my placed finger and squeezed it in pulsating surges that seemed to last for minutes.
“After her orgasm, we both lay in each other’s arms until we arrived at the hotel. Exhausted but still full of desire, she asked me to come up to her room. But I declined, wanting to give her, and me, time to understand just what had happened…and if it was to be repeated in an exact or similar manner. We kissed, and then she exited the car with the put-together grace that she had when the doorman opened the Mercedes earlier that evening. I said I could pick her up for afternoon cafe the next day if she wanted, She happily agreed. But what was to come from our rendezvous, I couldn’t have predicted.
Christine lies on top of Jon after he had his fill. Nothing but deep breadths of exhaustion fills the air. I, still outside the bedroom on the living room couch, just stare at their joined, horizontal position. I am hurt, jealous, and want Jon to leave. From the moment he took her hand, Christine submitted willingly to his desires. Would she have done the same for me?
At the same time, my excitement of how Christine swayed, moaned, and reached orgasm under Jon’s thrusting tongue has tempered my angry emotions. The erotic vision won’t leave my mind.
After a minute or so, John puts his hands on Chris’ ass and slowly spreads her cheeks. She kisses him deeply and then turns her head to me, stretches out her arm, and motions me to come to her. I walk over and take her hand.
“Are you OK,” she asks.
“I think so, but I think it’s time for Jon to leave.”
Chris looks at me with a mocking sad face that tells me she would like to stay longer in his embrace. But she slowly rises from the bed and detaches from Jon; their sweaty skin makes a tearing sound as they part. Her pussy is red from pounding Jon and it glistens from saliva and semen. Her stockings show runs and snags from their tangled embrace.
Jon rises, slowly puts on his clothes, and without a word to either of us, leaves the room. Chris puts on a bathrobe and enters the bathroom to shower. I pour myself a glass of wine and ponder the future.
Aftermath
We talked about what had happened over next few weeks. I expressed to her my dread and envy at the thought of what the future might hold. Yet, I also shared about my pleasure at watching another man take her. In truth, the memory of their union and the notion of seeing something similar again we electrifying. I was conflicted. To willingly set a loved one free and see their pleasure and evolution is a foundation of love; but at what cost? Would I lose her? Does this mean I’m not good enough for her?
It took Christine some days to talk about her feelings. And when she finally did, it was with clarity and honesty.
“I love you so much and never want to be apart from you,” she said. “You were the dashing older man when I met you. You helped me grow up, supported me through law school, and have been so generous. You’re a wonderful lover, real wonderful, and always satisfy me.
“At the same time, I’ve always been so serious about everything. My career, our home, making sure to always make the proper impression on other people; I felt I had to be perfect.
“But I’ve changed over the past year. I feel more attractive than ever. I’m wearing clothes that flatter me. I feel sexual, and taking care of that sexuality is more important for me than many things right now. I need to be free to express my sexuality—to flirt, to tease, and to have fun. Remember, I never had the chance to do that before we met.
I want you to take this journey with me. I know it might hurt sometimes, but know you’re the only one who has my heart. I promise I will never lie to you and will always let you know where I’m at, in any way, with any one.”
Though she never fucked Jon again, she made it quite clear to me that if the situation and feelings were right with another man, she would not hesitate to surrender to his will or try to seduce him if it was her desire.
That Evening with Jon
In the meantime, Christine’s and my sex life moved into high gear. I guess this is what I’ve always heard about an affair “spicing-up” your marriage. Once, about a month after the evening she coupled with Jon, Chris was finally able to talk about her feelings and about what happened. I listened as we sat on our couch over a glass of wine.
“I loved the way he desired me,” Chris started. “The way he looked at me. The way he undressed me in his mind as he inspected me from head to toe. He was like a magnet; when he was with me in the bar, I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. When he stroked my thigh, I melted.
“In the room when you gave me to Jon, I decided to let go and let him use me as he wished. Just to be able to not worry about what to do was liberating. When he undressed me in front of you, I felt connected to you in a strange sense. It was like you also let go. I had never felt so vulnerable and naked in my life. When I saw you watched as he slid his finger inside me and probed without challenge, I don’t think I’ve ever been that turned on.
“When Jon took his clothes off, his body was so beautiful, much more so than I had imagined. He was so fit and hard. His cock was thick and large. And when I fucked him, he went way deeper in me than you and filled me up more than I ever thought possible. I don’t say that to hurt you; only to be honest.”
I was not hurt.
Paris
After some time, our conversations about that special evening dissipated into the everyday pressures of work. But I was lucky to receive a multi-million dollar bonus as a result of an anti-trust case which we won…I was the lead lawyer. So we treated ourselves in luxury beyond our normal lifestyle, which wasn’t too bad to begin with. But we were both very happy.
Christine continued to dress conservatively sexy and continued to explore, by herself and with me, her sexuality. We continued to watch our DVDs and experimented with “toys” that ran the gamut from anal plugs to wrist and ankle restraints.
During this period, I was asked to visit my firm’s Paris office for a 5-day meeting. I asked Christine to accompany me and just enjoy the city’s sites and shopping to her heart’s content. She gladly agreed and then we decided to extend the trip another 5 days to tour and enjoy France.
From the first day we arrived, I had to work. And while I did the usual boring lawyer stuff, Chris decided to skip the sites and go right to the Des Chanselise and shop the specialty boutiques. She bought beautiful, sexy outfits and lingerie from Prada, Versace, Ferragamo, and hosiery from Wolford and Aubade.
Q
During my first workday at the Paris office, I met a colleague from our Italian office that was in town to work on the same case. He was about my age, very elegant and charming. Before I went back to the hotel after work, we had a few drinks and got to know each other. He was married with grown up c***dren, and told me that, although he loved his family, he liked to use a high-end (and extremely expensive) escort service when he was in Paris. They provided him young women whom he took out to dinner and then back to his hotel room for the rest of the night. He loved doing it and suggested I do the same.
I laughed at his suggestion and tried to be nice by saying that my wife was with me on this trip and I don’t think it would be a good idea. He just shrugged his shoulders and said, “what a pity.” He then handed me a business card with the letter “Q” embossed on it and a phone number. “Next time you’re in town without your wife, I think you would enjoy what this firm can provide,” he said. I pocketed the card and thanked him, and then wished him a good time for later. “By the way,” he added, “they only take new clients by referral, so don’t forget to mention my name.”
I didn’t think much about the escort service on the way back to the hotel to meet Christine. And any thought I did have was gone the minute I walked into the room and saw her dressed for dinner. She wore a newly purchased Versace dress that fit her like a glove. It was a simple but classic black outfit, made from silk with a hemline about 2 inches above her knees. Her camel-colored stockings ended at a pair of black Prada pumps. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. How was I so lucky to be married to such a beautiful woman?
“And how was your day?” she asked with a quick smile. I could tell she was happy to be in Paris, out of the office, with a credit card that had no limit. “Do you like my dress?” she asked. I kissed her and whispered that “I love the dress, but I love what’s in it more.”
I let her know that the law case on which I was working was becoming complicated, with many international parties involved and I needed to travel to Berlin for four nights later in the week. She would have to stay behind in Paris.
Two Days Later…The Thought
I’m sitting across the café table from Julien. He is a professional escort to upscale women living and visiting Paris. He is tall, fit, and handsome, with tan skin signifying his North African heritage. Julien is 26 and has been with the “Q” agency for one year. He is an expert lover, experienced in all forms of erotic pleasure that might fancy his female clients. Let me explain how I came to meet him.
I had called Q’s phone number that was listed on the card my Italian friend passed to me. When a woman’s voice answered, and I immediately said I was of friend of *****. She was very polite and, in perfect French-accented English, asked if I was interested in a woman that evening. When I replied that I was actually looking for a male escort, she said that her service did not service gay clientele and began to refer me to another company. I assured her that this was not what I was looking for, and explained I wanted to provide my wife with company during our stay in Paris. She asked me what type of man my wife would prefer. I gave her my best guess based on Jon, and she said she had the perfect escort. I agreed to meet him and, if acceptable, hire him for three days.
He was perfect, and I knew Christine would like him. I told Julien to be a companion to her; take her wherever she wanted to go…museums, shops, restaurants, etc. He was not to be proactive with Christine sexually, but only respond to her desires if, in fact, there was no doubt in his mind she wanted to go in that direction. If she did, Julien was to bestow on Christine erotic pleasures using his highly refined skills. And when I returned, he was to report back to me, in detail, he and Christine’s time together. He agreed.
Initial Meeting
“I don’t want you to be alone in Paris, sweetheart,” I said that evening to Christine. “You don’t know the city that well and I would feel better if you had someone who could take you where you want to go, safely.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Christine, replied. “You’ll be gone only four nights and I can just eat at the hotel or in my room.”
“Nonsense! You’re in one of the greatest cities in the world. It would be a shame not to take full advantage of it,” I said. “In the morning before I go to the airport, I want to introduce you to a young man that a gentleman from the office referred me to. He is a professional guide and I hired him to watch over you while I’m gone. He’ll take you wherever you want to go, and make sure you get there and back without trouble. Anything you desire he can make it happen.”
“That’s very sweet, but are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
And so in the lobby of our hotel, I introduced Julien to Christine. After some greetings were exchanged, I hugged Chris. She whispered in my ear the same words she said before I gave her to Jon a few months before: “Thank you.” I needed to catch my plane and I was late.
The Report
The day after I returned from Berlin, Julien, as agreed, told me about the previous days with Christine.
“For the first evening I hired a Mercedes limo with a private passenger compartment, fully sealed off from the driver except for an intercom. I was dressed in Hugo Boss pinstripes, white shirt, and black tie; appropriate for the very special restaurant where I had made reservations, about 30 minutes outside central Paris. When I pulled up to the hotel, I could see your wife waiting by the lobby entrance, standing next to the doorman who was waiting to assist her. And as I had asked her to do, Christine was properly dressed for the evening. In fact, she looked spectacular in her black dress that fell mid-thigh, a petite gold necklace, and dark gray heels with a thin ankle strap.
“Because of the opaque car windows, she didn’t see me until we pulled up and I opened the door. Your wife’s face lit up. She gave me a warm hug and said, ‘Well, you look quite nice. Dare I say hot?’ I laughed and said, ‘of course, and only for you!’ Thus the beginning of our adventure in fine French cuisine
“Dinner was a joy; the food, the company, and the ambiance made for a special evening. As I personally know the restaurant’s owner, he gave us a table in private corner with muted light, which glowed dark red off the cherry-wood walls and on to our faces. Your wife and I sat next to each other facing the dining room but we did not touch each other. I enjoyed being with your wife; talking and laughing with her, looking into her eyes and at her shapely legs as she walked to the ladies lounge. You are a very lucky man to possess such a jewel. She is a testament to the more mature woman.
“After two hours with a full bottle and fabulous meal consumed, I called the limo on my mobile and we began the return trip back to her hotel. As we walked through the restaurant to exit, I noticed how faces turned in our direction. Both men and women gazed at Christine; some nodded their approval, some just stared. It was magical.
“During the return trip, we laughed and joked some more. At one point, I think for a joke, Christine jumped on my lap and put her arm around my shoulders. I remember us talking nonsense to each other’s face and then, naturally, we started kissing; first touching our lips, then our tongues, which finally took us to a complete lock. As I push deeper beyond her lips and moved with her tongue, she began to sigh. We would break our embrace, look at each other, and then lock again, often with your wife exploring and dancing with my tongue. During breaks I kissed her cheeks, eyes, and ears, probing and nipping at her lobes.
“After again caressing and kissing, I placed my hand on her thigh, which was fully exposed by her ever-rising hemline. At that moment you wife opened her previously crossed legs. I then ran my hands under the black fabric and hooked on to her silk thong, pulling it down passed her knees and across her shoes, which I removed in the same stroke. But I did not return my hand up Christine’s dress after I dropped her panty on the car’s floor. Instead I held her close and continued our kissing to allow her to feel the cool air on her exposed and defenseless pussy. With each passing minute, sweat beads multiplied on her forehead. Her breathing deepened and slowed, as the pungent smell of her perfume filled the dim compartment and my senses. I fell into another dimension.
“Once again I passed my hand along her leg, starting from her calf, along her thigh, and finally to her pussy. But I didn’t stroke your wife’s slit; I slipped my arm between her legs to embrace and fondle her behind. Christine began rubbing her pussy on the thin side of my arm, first slowly, then with a steady and accelerating rhythm. Back and forth, side-to-side, she kept her pace, taking advantage of the lubrication she herself provided.
“We stopped kissing and hugged, cheek-to-cheek, as she grew in passion, I could sense her rising excitement as she strived towards orgasm. I have been with a lot of women, but I’ve never witnessed such as sensuous display of self-pleasure in my life. Her dress, now almost totally to her hips, revealed a perfectly shaved and moist pussy that glistened intermittently as the headlights of oncoming cars passed us in the night.
“And as I watch this dance of pleasure, my own excitement begged me to her partner during this moment. So I squeezed and played with her behind; sometimes stroking it lightly to provide variation. And when I felt her climaxing, I took my middle finger, moistened by her sweat, and inserted it deeply into her rear orifice, at which she drew a massive breadth and held it. As she came, your wife’s anal contractions surrounded my placed finger and squeezed it in pulsating surges that seemed to last for minutes.
“After her orgasm, we both lay in each other’s arms until we arrived at the hotel. Exhausted but still full of desire, she asked me to come up to her room. But I declined, wanting to give her, and me, time to understand just what had happened…and if it was to be repeated in an exact or similar manner. We kissed, and then she exited the car with the put-together grace that she had when the doorman opened the Mercedes earlier that evening. I said I could pick her up for afternoon cafe the next day if she wanted, She happily agreed. But what was to come from our rendezvous, I couldn’t have predicted.
Safiya
- 12.11.2020
- 20
- 0
