STORY:  Some Firsts for Me: She wanted it HER WAY Part I(F/m, m/f, wife,
bond, "forced" bi mm, oral, etc.)

Written by Mick

You may repost, print, or copy, provided you do not remove the
header, and do not alter in any way - in whole or in part - without
the author's permission, which is unlikely to be granted in any
case. It may not be reproduced for profit or commercial use.

If you are not 18 or over, well - I encourage your curiosity, but
please pursue it elsewhere...this story (like this newsgroup) is for
adults only. Thanks.

A memoir/story - a reminiscence. I suppose it fits into the "wife
watching" category in a way - though I would never have thought of
that until just now. It's mostly just a remembrance...And it is my
first post.

Comments or questions are welcome....I can spot a flame a mile away,
and I don't read them before I trash them, so don't bother.
Constructive criticism is always welcome. (Take me, use me, lick me,
eat me, fuck me, whip me.....EDIT MEEEEE!!)

Part I

I was barely 18....at least I *think* my birthday had passed. I was
young, and though I'd gotten laid the first time when I was 14, I
was just then really coming into my own sexually. I had more than
one really important relationship going, all of them with more or
less understanding women...all but one older than me. And I suppose
my hormone-driven ego was cranking right along. Pretty full of
myself.

But SHE had me by the balls, plain and simple. She had worked for a
while at the bookstore where I did. Early thirties, slender,
graceful, with the exaggerated posture and poise of a dancer,
although she wasn't one. She just moved well and carried herself
with pride. Dark, especially her hair and eyes, but all of her. Her
ancestry was Russian and French. She had a soft, deep sense of
humor; she seemed to have read everything. She was surprisingly
raunchy, but in a sort of quiet way - a way that was actually a form
of flirting. She would make a sexual pun or double-entendre and just
check with a subtle glance to see if you got it...and smile with
pleasure to see that you had. She would treat you as a
co-conspirator in her naughtiness. She would especially do this when
she had been slyly teasing one of the many customers or loiterers
she attracted to our end of the store....she toyed with them,
driving them, and me, completely nuts. "Here comes one of my
regulars," she'd murmur as one of the earnest young intellectuals
made his way up the aisle, trying to look uninterested, preoccupied.
"Wonder what's on his highly educated little mind today?"

We had only worked together for a brief while when she began to
casually place a hand on my leg or arm or shoulder. She would
sometimes seem "little-girlish" with me, but only subtly. I doubt
that anyone else who worked there could see that she was coming on
to me. In fact, they would have thought I was flattering myself if I
had said anything. I mean, she was nearly twice my age, gorgeous in
sophisticated in a near-bohemian way, and I was this bearded young
buck. But I knew. Or suspected. Hell, I didn't know what to think. I
was becoming obsessed as only a brand new man can be. She was just
too delicious. Was I kidding myself? No. Absolutely not. Maybe.
Definitely. Oh, for Christ's sake...

Soon there were lunches. My invitation. She said no the first time I
asked her if she'd like to join me for lunch, but it was a very
studied "no." She paused a long time, looking into my eyes before
saying, "no, I don't think so...." and let her voice trail off as a
slight smile crossed her face. She *enjoyed* saying no to me! Put
her hand on my goddamn THIGH when she said no to me.

But somehow, as nonchalantly as I could, but terrified I'd come
across like one of her ass hole suitors, I managed to ask her again,
and she agreed. We started having lunch together nearly every day.
And then I told her I was going to a movie after work, and she asked
with whom, and I said no one, just love this guy's films...we have
some of the screenplays back in Film and Theater.... We talked for a
long while about his film, looked over some of the screenplays
together, talked about the ones we'd both seen...then she just
invited herself along.

She let me listen to her calling her husband to tell him she'd would
be home late, that she and "a friend" were going to a movie. She
glanced at me and smiled slightly as she said "friend." Agony. "No,
darling, you stay home.....well, if it's good I won't mind seeing
again with you sometime....right. And we'll probably stop somewhere
for a bite afterwards.....love you too."

It was the beginning of a long seduction. I wanted it to be a
seduction of her by me, but of course it wasn't. I learned a lot.

The movies after work became sort of a regular thing. I decided just
to try and set my sexual desire for her aside, at least while I
waited for some sort of flash of insight that would make her mine. I
rationalized it in a very high-minded way: she is married. I've got
plenty of opportunities for sex with women who don't carry that
particular baggage, and besides, it's dishonest. Hah! It was equally
dishonest to pretend that I didn't want her. But that's life when
you're seventeen, eighteen years old.

We were great spiritual partners for one another. We had a passion
for poetry, for films, for art, for the outdoors....it was sooo good
to be together. Off and on I would see that we were in a sort of
love. It began to be ok that we didn't sleep together. In fact, we
started to talk about our relationships - she about her marriage, me
about my girlfriends and the occasional one-nighter. Once she asked
me if I ever went out after being out with her, and I honestly told
her yes. Had I ever gone out and had sex after being out with her?
Yes. She looked down at her napkin, and I thought she looked a
little flushed under her golden skin. When she looked up, she *was*
flushed, and her eyes had a twinkle...tears? She smiled tenderly,
and said simply "Good. I like that." She paused again. "Sometimes
after we go out, I go home and I....I have to um...."

The waiter came and broke the spell. I didn't know what to make of
it all: wasn't as bright as everyone thought I was! Some say that
I'm still as oblivious about sexual matters now as I was then.....or
that I'm better at seeing other people's stuff than my own.

Three times, I think it was, her husband joined us for lunch. First
time, he was sort of short with me. I was, at least, smart enough to
be flattered. I was a threat to a 35 year-old husband! But her
willingness to let him join us was unnerving. Was I that benign? Was
I so young, such a sexual irrelevancy that it was "safe" to hang out
with me and her husband together. It was gratifying that HE didn't
think so.

But the second time, I realized I really sort of liked the guy. He
was funny. He was smart. He looked cool. He seemed to really lover
her. He treated her really well. Better than I did, actually. I was
always teasing her about things, being sort of sarcastic ... he was
soft and kind with her, and she soaked it up. I had to admit that I
liked him, and I liked them together. I was more tortured than ever.
Because however I idealized him and their marriage, however I tried
to "platonize" our relationship, there were her dark, deep, naughty
eyes, her slender fingers, her full, smiling lips, the crease in her
brow when she frowned (which she did a lot)....her absolutely
sculptural collar bones, her soft, jet hair, her breasts, not large,
just perfect and full, ripe....her round hips as she walked away on
her long legs, arm-in-arm with her husband, turning on a perfect
ankle to surreptitiously smile over her shoulder at me....I believed
it was some sort of love that I saw in her smile.

She invited me to her place for dinner. When the night came, we went
straight from work, I on my motorcycle, she in her car. It was a
great place...they'd remodeled an urban townhouse before it was
popular to do so....a carpenter friend had helped them with the
design, and shown them how to do much of the work themselves. And it
was beautiful, full of pottery and soft lighting and art. They were
affluent - that had been obvious from the casual but expensive
clothes she wore, and the occasional piece of jewelry. She worked
because she liked to, and it gave her an escape from her doctoral
work and her teaching fellowship. She lit candles, brought drinks
over to the couch where I sat, and settled in next to me...we
chatted a bit about the day at work and eventually I asked when Tim
would be home. "He's out of town on business...."

I nearly dropped my drink. She adjusted herself on the couch,
letting her shoes drop to the floor, tucking her long legs up under
her as she looked at me over the rim of her glass..."Are you
disappointed?"

No, of course not it's fine with me....it was too good to be true,
but I was so flustered, I couldn't help trying to be cool.....I
started trying to chat about where he was. The conversation just
stalled and sat there, until she said "Let's talk about him after
dinner."

She slowly slipped her feet back into her shoes - fairly serious
fuckme pumps - and liquidly made her way to the kitchen. After a few
moments I followed. We nearly collided in the passage between the
dining room and the kitchen, and she had just reached for the light
switch. The kitchen light went out, and we were face to face in the
candlelight. I realized, oddly, that even with her heels on, I had a
good two inches on her. I wiped the thought from my mind as she
simply rose up and put her soft lips to mine. That's all that was
touching: our lips. Her breasts where painfully close to my chest.
Her hand on the wall switch was near my face....her smell - God, her
smell! - was all around me, climbing down into me.

Her tongue touched mine, and for a moment, I thought I would grab
her and take her right there on the floor. In truth, I was too
flustered, too excited to know what to do.  I was trembling, and so
was she. We broke our kiss after a long while, and looked at each
other....she was smiling, her eyes sparkling, and shaking her head
from side to side as if in wonder. I smiled too, and soon we were
holding each other and laughing.

We recovered and shared another kiss. Hot, wet and hungry. When we
came up for air, I said something suave like "so now, what?" and she
said "I'm not sure. I don't know where this all going, but whatever
comes next, I don't want to do it on an empty stomach!"

We ate in near silence....it was some sort of pasta I'd never had.
After dinner, we returned to the couch. "Mick, do you want to stay
with me tonight?" "You know I do." A long pause. "Are you sure?"
"Sure I'm sure." I leaned in and kissed her deeply, and wonder of
wonders! I touched her breast through her light blouse...she gasped
softly into my mouth, and pressed her lips tighter to mine, her
tongue probing past mine as her hand on the back of my head pulled
me closer.

"I want us to do something different tonight....something really
special...I promise you'll like it....and it's something I really,
really, want. I mean for us. I want to share something special with
you. Just trust me tonight..." She murmured these words softly into
my neck and my ear and we returned to our kissing.

She silently rose and led me to her bedroom...*their* bedroom, I
dimly thought. She gently pushed my hands away when I reached for
her, and with a deliberately wicked smile, she began to draw my
shirt up over my chest, kissing up to my nipples as she went. I
pulled the shirt the rest of the way up and off, and she began to
massage my stiff cock through my jeans as she licked and sniffed and
sucked at my chest and my armpits. I tried to put my arms around
her, but she firmly brought my hands down to my own hips as she
worked at my button fly and belt. My cock sprung forth as she
lowered my briefs and she let it brush her cheek as she went down
sliding my jeans and underwear down to my ankles. I stepped out of
them as she knelt there helping, her breath on my thighs.

She tried to rise, but my hands on her head were firm - or did they
plead? She gave in, and settled on her knees, looking up at me....so
serious now, my laughing lady. So serious and so inquiring as she
sought my eyes....she stroked me and searched my face from down
there, then she examined my cock and balls, all the while stroking
and holding....then she looked back up into my eyes as she opened
brought her soft, full lips to the wet tip of my cock. Her tongue
flicked out, but her eyes remained on mine...she drew my clear fluid
into her mouth and seemed to swallow before pressing my cock to her
lips, dragging it over their softness, harvesting more pre-cum with
her tongue. Still staring into my eyes with that inquisitive look,
she used my cockhead to press her lips open, and took the head into
her hot mouth, her tongue softly stroking the underside of it.

With a groan, she finally broke eye contact and took several inches
of me into her mouth holding onto my thighs as I gently held her
head. She sucked and pumped at me for what seemed several
minutes...could she feel how my knees were shaking?....and then she
pulled away from my penis, breathing heavily, holding my length
against her cheek, kissing into my pubic hair, and drawing my balls
forward in her hand to kiss as her other hand held my cock......

Continued in Part II ... Comments to Mick at
benedictaSPAMFREE@anon.nymserver.com  - But delete the uppercase part.

	*****

Pt. II

"It'll be so good.....so good....," she murmured as she nuzzled me.
I had to force myself to listen, to concentrate on her words. She
was telling me something. "You just have to trust me, just trust me
to make it good..." Her voice was muffled against my scrotum, and
the soft vibration of her voice, her breath, her elegant hand still
stroking my length....I had to strain to understand what she was
saying. Why was she saying this? "Just tell me you'll trust me...do
you S______? Do you trust me to make it good for you? For us?"

I looked down and saw that her face was turned up to mine. She was
nearly childlike, her eyes had the darkness and the openness of a
child who wants so to be taken up and loved. I didn't know what it
was that scared and thrilled me in her just then, but now I do: it
was a need that, had I known how deep it went, would have been more
than my half-man soul could have faced. But I was a vain boy -
everyone had always thought I was older than I was, especially me.

"Trust me, S_____.....you have to trust me and it'll be
good....mmmm.....so good...." There was no seduction in her voice,
just longing, so sincere it could break a heart, break it open.

I drew her up as a man would, by her upper arms. I had felt my
strength with girls, but now I was feeling my power with a woman. I
drew her up to me, and kissed her soft lips, warm, slick and puffy
from their tender work on my cock. She yielded so sweetly....became
almost small as I held her arms in my hands and her head tilted back
to take my tongue into her throat.

On the bed, her yielding was gone. We were partners, playing in the
waves, nearly knocked silly by what was washing over us. Pulling
each other back, sliding over each other as clothes fell away and
our breath surged. I wish I could tell you what she wore...usually
I'm eager to savor peeling away layers of mystery and clothing, but
I truly don't know. Maybe she undressed herself as I lost myself in
her spicy smells and her strange textures. I know she spoke, but I
was past listening. Her voice was just wind, birdsong, heartbeat.
And my mind was veering toward the fuck, the splendid fuck. In my
mind I was deep in her already, her cunt, so hot and wet, was
already mine. I was in her mouth and cunt and ass between her tits
and in her hair all at once, and at once was just when I wanted her
I wanted her at once, all at once....I would tell you what I "did to
her" and what she "did to me," in the ancient tradition of these
tales, but god help me I just don't know, and can't make it up. It
was wet and it smelled of nearly everything given to
us-the-undeserving, and I was alive...the earth was ours and it was
all over us.

Whew. I'm back now.

Sorry. The thing is this: all of a sudden, everything stopped except
the tripping of my heart and the throbbing of my cock. The groaning
and squealing and growling had stopped. She was suddenly straddling
me forcefully, and leaning over me, holding my face, staring into my
eyes, a smile of disbelief on her glowing face. She was seated on my
belly, my ribs clenched between her thighs, my face held in her
hands, my eyes held fast in hers.

And she said it again...her breath ragged and her voice shaking: "
Will you trust me? You do, don't you? You know how I love you, don't
you?" (She said "how I love you," not "how *much* I love you" -
"*how* I love you" - for some reason that stuck in my mind.)

I could only nod yes. I don't know if I really trusted her. I think
"yes" and "no" were maybe the only answers I knew back then. "Yes, I
do, I trust you," I nodded silently as my chest heaved and my wet
cock touched her ass just above the crack...the spot I now felt with
my fingers and found downy, soft. God, yes, sure, I trust you, just
let me fuck you and fuck you and fuck you.

She produced a loop of cloth - it was a necktie - classic, no? Its
ends were knotted together to form a loop. She gave it a twist and
put the smaller loop she'd formed over my wrist. Hah. She'd done
this before....

"See.....it comes right off....all you do is a little twist, and
you're free. See?" She hooked the other end over some feature of the
headboard, and did likewise with the other wrist, al the while
working her amazing ass over my lower belly, her ass crack and pubic
hair pressing the length of me, rolling my cock against my own hard
belly.

And so I was tied. Sort of. It was true that with a twist of my
wrist I'd be free. Was it bondage? Hardly. I gripped the cloth in my
hands and held on tight...good God! Her wetness was drying on my
fingers.

She slid down and my feet were in her hands, her back to me, her ass
still in touch with my cock. And my feet were tied.

She wiggled backward up my body, and her ass and sopping cunt were
there, there to lick...and I strained up into her and heard her gasp
as her lips opened to my tongue...I tongued her open like lifting an
oyster to swallow, and she settled onto me as her hot mouth took my
cock. Took it for hers, her head bobbing but in circles, like a
child who wants to get dizzy, but slower. It was a sweet, slightly
savage sucking, and I felt teeth and rough tongue, and slippery lips
and clutching throat.

And then she was rearing up....my cock was rocking in the air....she
was over me, her hands on my belly, her ass and puss pressed to my
face as I ate there and ate there like some crazy- assed squirrel
with the last and biggest nut.

And beyond the sound of my own feasting I heard her say "Isn't he
beautiful...isn't he just too beautiful? Oh god, he's so good...I
told you he'd be like this...."

Continued in Part III ... Comments to Mick at
benedictaSPAMFREE@anon.nymserver.com  - But delete the uppercase part.
	****

Part III: Some Firsts for Me...

At first I thought she was talking to my cock! I nearly laughed as I
hungrily lapped at her. In fact, the sheer craziness of it filled me
with happiness...my crazy lover...talking about me to my cock!

But that was just for the briefest of moments....I continued to
probe deeper into her sweet core with my tongue, and she never
ceased the subtle undulation of her hips over my face. I heard her
again: "Come on, baby....do it for me....I want to see you suck him
for me, do it, baby...Pleease, Timmy....for me...."

It was her husband. For a moment, I considered giving my wrists the
simple twist it would have taken to be free. I could be out of her
in less than a minute, and on my way back to the world.

But I heard her again: "Look at it, Timmy...look how big and hard
and smooth...." And I felt her again: she made a sort of circle with
her fingertips - like Stonehenge or something - and she firmly
massaged her fingertips into the flesh at the base of my penis,
deeply probing there drawing the flesh up toward the base of my
penis, stroking deeply into the part of my cock that is hidden
inside of me, the inner cock...drawing it up toward the outer cock.
(If you doubt that there is an inner cock, check it out. The human
penis, when erect, often extends far back into the body.) She milked
at it steadily as she crooned to her husband. I felt her take me
into her mouth. OR WAS IT HIM!? No, she drew my cock out of her
mouth and continued coaxing him: "I know you want this. I know you
want to suck him. And I want it. I want him to feel my husband's
mouth on his cock. I want you to taste my lover's sperm. Come to me,
baby. Come suck him with me."

And suddenly my cock was surrounded with warmth and wetness. A hot
mouth made wet contact with the underside of my cock as another slid
over the top of it. Then it was as if they were trying to kiss each
other around my cock, and their tongues chased each other around the
shaft like kids playing around the trunk of a playground tree...

I could feel her gentle laughter as they both knelt - him between my
thighs, and her over my face - and made love to each other and me. I
wanted more than anything to free my hands, not to flee, but to hold
on to her hips above me, to hug her wet, sloppy cunt to my face. But
I did not twist free. It would have been easy, but I remained tied
and imagined myself helpless, a passive recipient of this impossible
pleasure.

And then I felt her shift her weight a bit, and grasp my cock in her
hand. I could hear more clearly now. She stroked me rhythmically as
she urged him on. "Take him in, Timmy...take him deep. Let him fuck
your mouth, honey. Come on, for me. For him. Take that beautiful
hard cock and suck him." I'm pretty sure that as she held the base
of my cock in one hand, she pushed his head down over me with her
other hand, because ... well, it just felt like that. I never once
looked down there. Never saw him. But she pushed his face down onto
my cock and milked at me with her free hand as she guided me into
his mouth and him onto my cock.

And I am pretty sure she was pushing him up and down on me, because
the rhythm with which he slid up and down on me was *her* rhythm,
the rhythm of her hips, of her tongue, of our lovemaking, of our
fucking...it had begun with that first kiss, and had continued
uninterrupted, faster or slower, it was *her* rhythm. I pictured
then, as I picture now, her gaze as she forced her husband to suck
her lover, as she watched his lips stretch and slide over my cock,
as she watched his nostrils flare for breath, as she watched his
throat contract when she pushed him down hard, and he gagged a bit
as his lips neared her fingers where she held me. She held a fistful
of cock and was forcing it down her husbands throat, a little
roughly, but it was still full of love - not so much of him or of
me, *but of what were doing* - love of what she was experiencing.

But soon, the rhythm was established and she fondled my balls for a
moment, cooing something to him as he continued to fellate me, I
could tell she was whispering into his ear.

Suddenly, wrenchingly, the sweet darkness that had surrounded me,
hidden me, as vulnerable as I was, suddenly it was gone as she
reversed herself over me, and fell to kissing my lips, my neck, my
ears, all the while babbling "thank you, S________, thank you, oh
god, it's so beautiful...tell me it's ok...tell me it's good, tell
me, baby..."

I said nothing, but I kissed her as deeply as I could without
freeing myself and grabbing her, and I slid my cunt-slick tongue
into her hungry mouth as her husband continued to labor his mouth
over my flesh.

He was into it now. He held me in both hands, I guess to limit the
depth when I bucked up into his mouth - which was increasingly
often, as my heat built. I could feel his tongue working wildly at
the top of my cock when he would rise up, and I would feel his tight
throat when he came down on me.

Her puss was wetly pressed against my belly again as she held my
face in her hands and feverishly sucked at my tongue.

In moments I was beginning to come, and she must have felt me
beginning to heave under her. For a moment, her excitement just put
her over the edge...she pulled away from our kiss, and ecstatic
expression on her face as she momentarily rose up and could not
decide what to do, where to be. She frantically looked from my face
to my cock, and back again....then she turned and her puss came down
to my ravenous mouth again, and she was there with him, helping him,
and when he realized that my crisis was imminent, he pulled away,
but she FORCED him back. He closed his mouth and it hurt slightly as
she pushed his clamped lips against my sensitive cockhead; but
finally he relented and his mouth swooped down over me once again,
and I began to come.

My first spurt must have filled his mouth, because I could feel a
huge amount of wetness fall down the shaft onto their hands. The
next one, I felt arcing up onto my belly and chest, and she squealed
her breathless delight. The next splashed into her throat as she
again engulfed me herself. And then she pulled his face to me again
and then they were both licking me, and she put me in his mouth as I
shrank...he suckled there like a child and she stroked his face and
my cock...and then he was gone.

She crawled up and kissed me softly with her spermy-sweet lips and
tongue. She melted onto me now, serene and languid, small movements
against me carried forth that rhythm, slower now, and slower still.
Her face on my neck and her sigh was from deep inside.

I believe we slept.

I awoke a little while later with her untying my "bonds." She
whispered more thanks, and kissed each wrist...she left my ankles
tied. With a twitch of my cock, I realized there would be more.

"I won't ask you if it was good. You don't have to share that with
me. But it was so good for me, S_____ - so, so good. I came so much,
and so hard. God, it was good."

I said nothing, which was becoming a habit. She began to stroke me
everywhere, as my arms regained their strength and my hands found
her hair, her cheek, her throat, her breasts, and then I was sitting
up, pulling her down onto me, and we were fucking and fucking. I was
deep in her, and she just settled down onto me, as we sat facing
each other, our arms and legs around each other. My fingers found
her ass, and wet with her puss, they easily worked into her and she
began to come, one of those long, deep, from- the-core orgasms, the
one that surprises or even scares you a little. She didn't work up
and down on me, and I did not stroke in and out of her. I stayed in
her as deep as I could be and for a long, long while, we stayed that
way, just slowly grinding ourselves together and she came and came.
I think she wept as I played one last wet song deep into her cunt
and we slept again.


