|
Wanda and the Stud [m, older f, cons]
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
This story describes a carefully arranged eexual encounter between a
young middle-aged married woman and a stud in his late twenties.
Wanda Schalk Cicotte luxuriated in the hotel
bathtub in preparation for what was to be a most carefully planned one-
night stand. The reader must bear in mind that this was an
earlier decade, free of the risk of sexual plagues, and that it
was certainly possible to look forward to an evening of high
pleasure untainted by any fear of deadly illness. At that time,
Wanda was forty-one years old and still close to the peak of
her allure. She had married young, had kept faithful to her
husband over eighteen years and had borne him two children,
both away at boarding school. With the children gone, the
Cicottes dedicated themselves to the rejuvenation of their
sexual relationship, which had nearly always been
physiologically satisfactory, if a bit hurried and perfunctory at
times.
The reader might well wonder how the rejuvenation of an
nineteen-year marriage would lead to an encounter with a
stranger. This is how Wanda remembers it. Some details are
omitted due to discretion on the part of Wanda, or perhaps to
her imperfect memory. There is enough material, I hope, to
excite the reader's imagination. Within the Cicottes? intimate
relationship there was ample room for fantasy, which was
freely used not only in the preliminary phases of excitement;
in the course of sexual relations one Cicotte would tell the
other a sustained story, which they called a "scenario." One of
the favored scenarios concerned a third person, sometimes
Wanda with a new male, sometimes Jack with a new female.
These scenarios added a definite tartness to their sex life, like
the acidity in wine, which would otherwise be overly sweet.
Both enjoyed the hint of naughtiness in these third-person
scenarios, but by mutual agreement the scenarios were to
remain in the realm of fantasy.
Until the expected rejuvenation was not realized, proved
disappointing. The Cicottes could not blame their failure on any
decrease in physical attraction. Jack still looked younger than
his age, though his waistline was a bit thicker than in years
past, and he was a bit shorter than his five-eight wife when
she wore two-inch heels. Wanda still attracted the lively
interest of other men at social gatherings, mainly due to her
self-confident carriage and her way of looking at men with an
unnervingly steady gaze when she spoke. Not to dwell unduly on
physical details, Wanda was Junoesque, was in fact carrying a
few extra pounds, as she always had, nicely distributed on the
torso. She had good legs, slightly heavy and muscular at the
thighs and calves, elegantly slim at the ankles.
During the course of a week in the the late spring Jack came to
the melancholy conclusion that his own libido was on the wane.
This made him feel quite guilty, as he had always harbored the
suspicion that he never completely matched Wanda's
sometimes phenomenal sexual intensity. Jack determined to
bring to fruition their long-cherished fantasy of an encounter
with a third person. A vigorous young man for Wanda.
That very week Jack proposed the scenario to Wanda, after a
suitably strong alcoholic preparation. She assented, not
betraying to Jack the full measure of her enthusiasm for the
adventure, and they made love more passionately than they had
in many months. In truth, she was aware of being at the peak of
her sexual power, and although Jack was loving, supportive and
more than adequate in the boudoir, she was at this time ready
to experience an added degree of tartness, of excitement?
Jack Cicotte now set about the task of planning an encounter
that would excite Wanda to the fullest and yet be discreet
and, above all, safe. As I have said, this was the era before
AIDS. Wanda was never certain how the arrangement was made,
perhaps did not wish to know all the details. It was an affair
like the making of sausage or of foreign policy: one does not
want to know everything that went into it. For the sake of our
story, it will suffice to say that the young man in question was
located on a university campus across the state line. It is
highly likely that Jack used the good offices and discretion of
his old classmate, Dr. Erik Risberg, head of Student Health
Services at the university. Dr. Risberg is noted for his studies
in the sexual activity of students and most certainly had
access to files which made him an excellent procurer.
Mark McMullin is the name of Wanda's one-night paramour. He
had spent his undergraduate years at a prestigious college in
Northern New England, where he was an offensive end on the
football team: six-feet three, 205 pounds and the physical
grace of a superb athlete. To the deep disappointment of his
coaches, he quit football in his senior year to devote himself to
advanced physical chemistry courses. At the time of our story,
McMullin was a twenty-nine year-old instructor in the
Department of Chemistry, with a tenure-track position. And a
well-based reputation as a lover. He was single, and known to
be irresistable to women, for reasons other than his mere
physical attributes. Although McMullin appreciated women of
all shapes, colors and (within reasonable limits) ages, he
favored comfortably upholstered women over the slender
fashion model type.
The husband carefully planned
everything beforehand and keenly anticipated the encounter,
under ideal conditions, between the youthful and vigorous ex-
athlete and his sexually intense wife. At first blush one might
think Jack Cicotte had taken leave of his senses, or that he had
a wish to be humiliated. But there was something that
fascinated and excited him about two sexually powerful people
getting together for the first time that transcended the
violation of his intimate relationship with Wanda. He expected
Wanda to spare him no details in the recounting of the affair.
Perhaps he expected this set piece encounter, embellished
again and again in the retelling, to restore the luster of the
Cicotte boudoir.
To whet the desire, all parties refrained from sex for a full
week in advance. Jack made reservations for one night in the
top-floor suite of an excellent hotel in a city near the
university. Whether he used his connections in the hospitality
industry to secure a vantage point for voyeurism we have no
way of knowing, but Wanda suspects this. And does not
begrudge Jack the added pleasure of the voyeur, since the
encounter surpassed all her anticipation.
********************
After a leisurely bath and the application of skin-enhancing
lotions and creams and scents worthy of a Cleopatra, Wanda
padded naked into the bedroom and stood ramrod straight in
front of the full-length mirror. There was nothing much to
criticize about her the apparition in the glass, perhaps a few
extra pounds around the midriff and thighs. As I have indicated,
her legs were rather full and muscular from years of hiking and
cross-country ski-ing, with graceful little ankles. Her bosom
was smaller that she thought proportionate for her overall
height and weight, but it was surmounted by deeply tinted
areoles which had a convex curvature of their own, and
phenomenally large nipples. No young man she'd been intimate
with had ever failed to be impressed, and she?d noticed many
discreet and not-so-discreet stares of admiration from women
in health club locker rooms. Now Wanda donned her new ecru
silks, including a baroque garter belt, lace-fringed step-ins and
thigh high seamed stockings. So keen was her anticipation that
she became quite aroused even in the department store where
she made her careful choices of lingerie. She did not omit a bra,
choosing an model with subtle push-in pads to augment her
modest cleavage. A snug cocktail dress in black, with a hem
well above the knees, rather large youthful earrings and choker
pearls completed the picture.
As agreed upon, the three met for drinks. Double strength drinks
to steady the nerves. Since snapshots had been exchanged,
neither Wanda nor Mark were surprised by each other's
appearence. Mark had fairly regular features, dark hair and
deep-set light-brown eyes. He was a little bland-looking, which
disappointed Wanda, who had perhaps fantasized a piratical,
dangerous-looking paramour. But he certainly was huge, as her
husband promised. And graceful. And well-mannered. For his
part, Mark took in the perfume, the shapely legs, the husky
voice, the Eastern Establishment accent and the direct, frankly
admiring gaze. He was immediately hooked.
Finally the couple was alone in the room. Mark strode over to
the curtains, took a brief, admiring glance at the twinkling
lights below, and closed the curtains. Out of his small duffle
bag came two glass candle-holders and two jasmine-scented
candles. A few seconds after he lit the candles, Wanda
extinguished the electric lamps and the lovers lightly
embraced, trembling with pent-up energy.
"I thought we'd never get upstairs alone," said Mark in a husky
voice. "Could you tell how attracted I am to you?" Wanda
murmured something incoherent and slipped off Mark's tweed
jacket, then unbuttoned his cotton shirt while he loosened the
tie and flung it away. She ran her nails lightly over his pecs and
nuzzled his neck. He reached down with his long arms and
caressed her outer thighs through layers of silk, which sighed
under his touch.
Wanda pushed Mark down to the bed and maneuvered him so the
candlelight illuminated his face. She let the silk dress slide to
the carpet, took in the utterly fascinated and admiring look on
the young man?s face, unhooked and tossed her bra somewhere
behind her. With her back arched, her forty-one year-old
breasts sagged only slightly. Her nipples were pointed at the
wall behind Mark, who seemed totally mesmerized. He reached
out for her, but she pushed his arms down with surprising
force. Determined to prolong the pleasure to the utmost and
beyond, Wanda stroked her nipples for about fifteen seconds
until they stood out like the last digit of her ring finger; they
were so prominent. Mark sucked in his breath in amazement and
admiration. Wanda slowly and sinuously shed the ecru garter
belt and caressed herself as she slipped out of her silk panties.
Naked now but for the thigh-length black stockings, Wanda
pulled back the bedcovers and lay supine on the fresh, luxurious
sheets. "Now it's your turn to stand over me and undress."
"Sure" was all he could say, his mouth as dry as if he were
facing combat. He pulled off his socks and dropped his grey
flannels. He was so fully aroused by Wanda?s strip-show that he
had manifestly great difficulty getting out of his cotton briefs.
Now it was Wanda's turn to gasp in admiration at his manhood,
which curved up at almost a 45 degree angle toward his flat
abdomen. In length his cock seemed well proportioned to his
height, but the thickness of the shaft was like nothing she had
seen before. Already a crystal jewel of pre-ejaculation fluid
glistened at the tip. Wanda grasped the massive shaft and
tongued the fluid off, then tongued the head until it gleamed in
the candlelight. "Not so soon," he said, gently pushing her head
back. Mark knelt between Wanda's legs and stroked her thighs
and across her lower abdomen just above the light brown pubic
escutcheon. "Now touch my breasts," she commanded. She
hugged her breasts to increase their apparent fulness while he
stroked their entire surfaces before gently squeezing the
areoles. Then he leaned uover and sucked on her nipples until
she was fully aroused and lubricated. "Touch me there," she
said with a quick pressure on his right forearm. He started with
the major lips, stroking her with varying pressure, until
Wanda?s involuntary murmurs of pleasure gave him the ideal
parameters of rate and pressure. After a few minutes Mark
pulled upwards on the skin just north of her clit, until those
wondrous nerve endings began to tingle. With the index finger
of his other hand he scooped up some lubricating juices and
touched her gently right on the clit. The hours of anticipation
and the days of enforced celibacy intensified her pleasure. With
very little actual manipulation of the clit, her nerve endings
screamed with intense pleasure. Mark now entered her halfway
but he was afraid of coming too soon, so he didn?t rock back and
forth, just enjoying her warmth and wetness.
Wanda came twice from Mark cunning finger-stroking, and she
knew now that his reputation was not a function of his
physique, impressive as that might be. For a while they reclined
in each other's arms until their breathing and heart rates
returned to nearly normal. They explored each other?s sweaty
bodies with complete and genuine pleasure. "Next time be a
little rough with me," she whispered. "Very soon," he replied,
padding over gracefully to the mini-bar for a chilled orange
juice, fetching Wanda a glass of Pellagrino or some other
designer water.
Presently, with minimal effort on the part of the experienced
Wanda, Mark was fully erect. While he supported himself on his
palms and toes, she guided his manhood into her now-dripping
sheath. Waves of pleasure radiated from down there as she felt
her youthfully tight vaginal wall stretched to the utmost by
Mark. Now he clamped each wrist at the side of her head,
pinning her arms, while he rocked his hips and thrust into her,
so it seemed, deeper than anyone had ever penetrated her. She
was too well lubricated for him to really hurt her, but the
rapidly pulsating fulness within her elicited cries of pleasure
so sharp they might have been cries of pain. In less than three
minutes he came for the first time with a powerful throbbing
orgasm. Fortunately her intensity kept him sufficiently erect to
satisfy her a third time. Mark kneeled over the supine form of
Wanda and licked her gently convex abdomen, then her swollen
nipples. After a few murmured endearments, Mark fell fast
asleep, the sleep of the just(laid.)
|
|
