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Sexual Encounter
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.
Wynn
It seemed like, no, I knew that my current relationship was
going nowhere. Nowhere at all. She was almost ten years
older that I, we differed in the children ideology (I
wanted one, she wanted none), and we were headed (at best)
towards just being friends. Well, maybe if we got lonely,
we might get together for fun and a sympathy sleep-in.
The most recent down turn in the relationship was having to
tell her to move into the second bedroom. No, I wouldn't
kick her out, but I needed my space back.
I was dreading the celibacy route, being a very physical
being. But it was not to be.
I had known Wynn for about a year. I dawned on me a couple
of weeks ago, that she always asked my to help her with
heavy items, things on the high shelves in the storeroom
and when things were close-quartered, she would be touching
my arms and back lightly. Almost as though she didn't want
me to know. She was, as she often said, very happily
married.
So it came to pass last week that I was running an errand
into the very traffic snarled downtown Seattle. Wynn
buzzed me and said she needed to go downtown as well to
drop off a check for the tabs on one of the office cars.
It seems that Lynda was going to do it before she went on
vacation but must have forgotten. As it was a sunny day,
and had been a sunny week (not like these last two), I was
riding my motorcycle. An easy way of getting into and out
of downtown parking and traffic.
When Wynn showed up at my office, here was this 5'6", ample
breasted, shapely legs extending from her short skirt,
redhead wanting to ride to the KC Admin. building. In a
skirt.
"Wynn," I started, "do you have pants, intend to ride side
saddle, or just hike that skirt up to your waist?" "I
hadn't thought of that but guess I'll just slide it up as
far as needed".
We walked out to the parking lot with only one helmet. I
made sure she had glasses though, it was the law. I
started the bike, then put on my helmet. Putting down the
passenger foot pegs, I got on. Kicking the stand up, I
backed the bike up next to the curb so Wynn could easily
slide onto it. Too bad I didn't have larger mirrors. I
was hoping to catch sight of her pulling her skirt up. One
of the guys in the office had once mentioned that when
Wynn's legs were tanned, she didn't wear hose or panties.
I had noticed that she wasn't wearing hose and wanted to
see if she was a natural redhead. She slid onto the bike
and we were off.
Some women, when they ride on the back of a bake want to
hold onto the rack and avoid any unusual contact. That
doesn't work too well on a bike. Wynn must have ridden
before as she snuggled up and wrapped her arms around me in
a comfortable kind of way. It made me wonder what she was
thinking.
Anyway, the trip and the rest of the afternoon was pretty
quick and uneventful. At least until the next day.
That following afternoon, there was a box of documents that
Wynn and her assistant needed from the back of the store-
room in my area. Her assistant called and said she'd be
right up. I went to the storeroom and leaving the door
open, proceeded to climb the step ladder to retrieve the
needed box. I didn't bother to look down when I heard
someone below me. I assumed it as Terri waiting for a box.
When the door closed though, I started to wonder. I looked
down into the hungriest pair of brown eyes I think I'd ever
seen. Of course, they didn't belong to little blonde
Terri. Nor did the ample breasts my eyes wandered to next.
"Hi. Can I lend you a hand?" Wynn's tone of voice left no
questions unasked. I felt her hand on the back of my
thigh.
"Uh, I think I've got the box," I stammered knowing damn
well that wasn't what she meant. "I hope there's only one
box," I tried to say when I quickly switched to falsetto as
her hand finally reached my swelling cock, "for 1989." In
the end it was almost a whisper. Her hands were all over
me. One between my legs from behind, playing with my
rising manhood and the other kneading my ass.
"Why don't you step down from there," she asked. I could
turn to put the box down, so I returned it to it's place of
the shelf. As I stepped down and turned around, she
grabbed the top button of my 501s and left no doubt that
she knew how to open them quickly. Standing there with my
pants open, a swollen cock head poking out the top of my
briefs, and the fear of being caught, I tried to say no.
But she was on her knees and my cock in moments. I found
my pants and briefs at my knees and her red hair flying and
she tried to swallow my penis. At that point, I couldn't
have stopped her. I wanted to come in her mouth because it
was apparent from her pace and frenzy that she wasn't
intending on spending me on a towel or napkin.
I knew from past experience that she wasn't going to be
successful.
I slowly freed myself of both the step ladder and Wynn. Finishing
the removal of my clothing, I watched her do likewise. She had
great legs, a small belly that a little work would do wonders for,
and a nice pair of approximately 36C breasts.
"Why don't you lie down?", she asked. I obliged and moved some
boxes to facilitate. She went down to both knees and gave my cock
a few more moments of oral stimulation. Lifting a leg, she
straddled me and promptly impaled herself upon my rigid member.
I thought her eyes were going to pop when she finally hit my
trimmed pubic hair.
"Do you share this with many women?", she asked. "No." I responded
quickly, "I'm amazed that I'm here with you. I'm not into one-
night-stands, quickies or other happenstance fucking."
I don't think she was listening anymore. Wynn's red hair was all
over the place as she rode me so deep and was becoming so wet that
her wetness was already running onto my stomach and down between
my cheeks. The noises were telling the story if my sense of touch
hadn't done so.
Her breasts were swaying back and forth. I reached up and took a
nipple between my thumb and fore finger. Rolling the ever
hardening bud, I reached up and took the other one as well. It had
it's effect. Wynn ground herself onto my cock with such force, I
was beginning to wonder if my testicles might get smashed.
Then it hit. Her eyes seemed to roll up, her tongue was running
over her lips and the moan would have been louder if I hadn't
released her breasts and placed one hand over her mouth. The flow
she released would probably make the old janitor wonder what the
hell happened in this closet. She rocked herself for a few moments
more, then slowed to a stop.
I took that as my opportunity to go into action. I gently lifted
myself, causing her to go off balance. I took her hand and turned
my legs outward. We then rocked/somersaulted into a more
traditional position.
I lifted her knees into the cradle of my elbows and plunged ahead
for all I was worth. I tried in vain for several minutes but she
was simply too wet. I released her legs and moved up her body
until I was at her chest, testicles sitting on her breasts. I then
pistoned myself to the point of no return. Wynn was ready for this
and unlike anyone else I had been with, dove for the head as I
started to come. I continued to jerk myself while she drank each
drop.
Spent, we decided we had better get back to our offices before
anyone started to wonder. Using the paper towels stacked next to
the janitorial supplies in the one corner of my storeroom, we
prepared ourselves and tried to go on with the day.
Okay, let's read some of your work!
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