Old Friends (MF, affair)

Every July my husband James and I travel to Washington state for an annual
boat regatta.  It’s always a time both to visit old college friends and to let
our down, so to speak.  Of course, for two conservative people, letting your
down usually means getting drunk in the hotel bar, doing some late night
dancing, and generally carousing for a few days.  But it’s a needed break for
me – from work at the accounting firm, from the children, and from the general
toil of daily life.  

Usually, a pretty big crowd goes, but last year their were only two couples:
us and Nicolas and Jacala.  James and Nicolas had been good friends when we
were undergraduates:  we used to go on annual canoeing and camping trips and
to parties together, but over the years we had only seen them a couple of
times.  They hadn’t changed much, and I guess neither had we.  That why I was
so surprised when we met them at the hotel. 

Nicolas had always been tall and skinny, and while he was a good looking man
(a pretty boy with a beard), I had never given him much thought at all.
Jacala, on the other hand, was a beautiful, slim blonde woman who had done
some modeling when we were in school.  I had never understood what her
attraction to Nicolas was – she could have had her pick of men, but instead
she chose the brooding, boyish writer who would never be able to support her. 

We met them in the lobby.  I recognized Jacala instantly, looking beautiful
as ever, but the man with her hardly looked like the Nicolas I knew.   He had
gained some weight and looked considerably more rugged than he used to, and
instead of a beard, he sported a goatee.  These things, along with the earring
and the long hair, made me do a double take.  The two of them looked stunning
together.

Our greetings were warms, and we spent the next couple of hours catching up.
James and I still had the same jobs we had had after graduation, but Nicolas
and Jacala had gone through a series of jobs.  Now, however, they seemed to
have found the careers they had always wanted:  Nicolas was a professor of
English, and Jacala was working as the district manager for a chain of
successful grocery stores.  Clearly, they didn’t make as much money as we did
(James came closer to six figures every year, including his bonuses), but they
seemed very comfortable.  And they wore their comfort well, especially
Nicolas, who looked happy and healthier than I had ever seen him look.

Since the regatta didn’t begin until the following day, we spent the night
eating out, dancing and getting fairly smashed.  The combination was a deadly
one for me, or should I say lively.  Drinking has always had two effects on
me:  it makes me quite gregarious and quite horny.  I’ve always loved dancing
and have discovered that it’s a good way to mix the three ingredients for a
particularly good time.  What’s more:  I love the attention I get from men
when I dance.  I’ve been told that I have quite an erotic dancing style, and
though it sometimes makes James jealous for me to get such attention, I think
he secretly is very proud to be married to me.  

I’ve never considered myself particularly sexy.  I stand at 5’4" and I’ve
always felt my waste was too short and too thick.  But when I dance, I feel
incredibly sexy, no doubt because I’ve always associated it with sex.  I
suppose the best part of my figure is my breasts.  My measurements are
36C-28-35.  Although I’ve never been a flirt, it’s hard not to notice that my
dancing usually draws men’s eyes to my breasts.  And while I don’t dress
provocatively (I where business suits more often than not), it’s hard not to
notice my breasts as they sway to the music.  On this night in particular, it
was obviously difficult for Nicolas not to notice them:  I caught him staring
several times.

Since the men weren’t overly fond of dancing, Jacala and I danced together
most of the night.  And we complemented each other fairly well, too:  her
tall, slim figure and blonde hair contrasted nicely with my short, fleshy
figure and black hair.  Eventually, we got the men to dance, and amazingly
they started to enjoy themselves quite a bit.  While James is an okay dancer,
I was pleased to see when I danced with Nicolas that he was actually pretty
good:  different but good.  I also have to admit that the drinks were
beginning to have their effect, and as I danced with Nicolas I couldn’t help
but notice how nice and tight his ass looked in his jeans.  

That first night ended around two a.m., and we stumbled up to our rooms,
which were situated next to one another with and adjoining bathroom.
Normally, we didn’t go for this setup, but since the hotel was full, we didn’t
have much choice.  We immediately discovered the complex game of musical
chairs we were going to have play over the weekend.  Nonetheless, we managed
to stay relatively organized with the bathroom schedule that first night.

When James and I climbed into bed, I was still pretty randy from the dancing
and the drinks.  Unfortunately, the alcohol had had a different influence on
James.  He wanted simply to sleep.  This was unacceptable to me, so I had to
kick into high gear, to take charge and make use of some different sexual
artillery, so to speak.  

Our sex life, though not exactly kinky, was nevertheless not run of the mill.
James is an adequate lover, and sometimes he can surprise me, but for the most
part the creative part of our lovemaking came from my camp.  On nights like
this, when I was horny and James was ready for sleep, I had the habit of
turning up the heat a bit.  So instead of snuggling for a night of slumber, I
instead sat up in bed and did a little strip tease.  James watched but showed
little sign of responding.  That is to say, his cock lay lifeless against his
thigh.  Once I had my clothes off, I planted my knees beside him so that he
could reach my sex if he chose to, and I started to play with my breasts.
This usually did the trick, and tonight was no exception:  I watched as his
cock grew slightly tumescent.  But it obviously would require a bit more
persuading.

As I said, I was horny – hornier than usual, as a matter of fact – I looked
down and saw that my dark nipples were puckering incredibly and my nipples
further distended than normally.  I pinched them and felt a current run
straight to my crotch.  The nipples thick, enormous in my fingers.  Looking
back into James’s eyes, I saw that he was beginning to wake up a little more.
Slowly, without taking my eyes off his, I began to masturbate.  I couldn’t
believe how wet I had grown.  In the silence of the room I could hear my
fingers sliding over my labia and my clitoris.  I let out an audible groan and
closed my eyes.  I knew it wouldn’t take long for me to come, but I wanted to
stretch it out a bit – either that or try for more than one orgasm, which
would require James to move into action.

And that he did.  He sat up and kissed me hard on the mouth.  I groaned
again.  I could tell by the way he held my naked little body that he this was
going to be rough, something that I didn’t get as often I desired it.  

Forcefully but gently, James pushed to the side onto my hands and knees,
grabbed my hips and positioned himself behind me.  This was my favorite
position and never failed to bring on a big orgasm.  As he entered me, I could
feel how hard he had become, how urgent, too, and I knew that if we continued
in the position for long, he would explode too quickly.  He began fucking me
slowly, but it didn’t take long before he was pounding into me more quickly.
I loved being fucked this way!  
My orgasm came fast and furious, and almost of its own volition, my body
raised up and fell backward, causing James to lose his balance and fall
awkwardly onto his back.  Once he had pushed his legs out in front of him so
that he was lying flat on his back, I rose up again, adjusted my thighs and
began fucking him furiously and loudly.  He tried to shush me, but it was to
no avail.  It’s almost as if I wanted Nicolas and Jacala to hear me – the
thought of them lying naked in the next room listening to me fucking and being
fucked was an enormous turn-on.  I raised up on my feet so that the only body
parts touching were our genitals, and I began to pump up and down.  The
sensation brought moans of delight from James.  

Then I felt something strange, and I looked up to see that the bathroom door
was slightly ajar.  Even in the relative darkness I could make out a figure in
the bathroom.  When focused further I saw that it Nicolas peaking around the
door watching us.  On any other night I might have screamed in surprise or
yelled out.  But tonight was different.  An uncommon thrill ran through my
body.  I continued to pump on James’s wonderfully hard cock, and I could tell
from the sounds he was making that he was getting close.  Even I got louder
and louder with every movement.  I was overwhelmed by the complexity of
sensations running through my body.  

As I came for the second and last time of the evening, I kept my eye on the
crack in the bathroom doorway.  There in the shadows, I could make out
Nicolas’ form.  More than that, I noticed that he was masturbating!  He
appeared to be staring right at me, and I felt sexier than ever before in my
life.  Not only did I get off on being watched, but I got off even more at the
thought that he was masturbating while I watched.  

Just as my orgasm was subsiding, James came forcefully, his body wracked with
spasms of pleasure.  I nearly lost my balance and had to lean forward to
prevent myself from falling back on him.  And when I looked over, I saw that
Nicolas had closed the door silently.  The action for the night was over.  I
collapsed backward finally, and James and lay on the bed breathing like
maniacs.  By the time our breathing had settled down, we had both drifted off
to a wonderful and profound sleep.  

When I woke up the next morning, late as usual, I found a note from James.
"I went down to breakfast with Jacala," it said.  "We’ll back by eleven.
Thanks for last night.  Love, James."  Some things didn’t change.  When the
four of us used to go on camping trips, it never failed:  James and Jacala had
always been the early birds while Nicolas and I sometimes slept until noon.
It was ten o’clock now.  I rolled over in bed and felt utterly exhausted but
still enormously turned on.  

I felt naughty, nasty, slutty – all of those things good girls weren’t
supposed to be.  But I liked it.  I felt strangely liberated somehow.  I also
wondered if Nicolas were up.  I also wondered . . . .  I couldn’t believe the
way my brain was working!  I had never cheated on James, and though James had
had that one brief affair in St. Louis years ago, we had worked through it.  I
had a gut feeling that he had been loyal since that error in judgment.  But
something devious was working in me.  And when I heard water running in the
bathroom, something snapped inside me.  I got out of bed and walked slowly,
nervously to the door.  I was completely naked.  I felt sexually alive.
Wanton.  

I rapped on the door and said, "Nicolas, is that you?"

"Yes, I’ll be out in a second," came his reply.  Nothing in voice suggested
anything out of the ordinary.  Perhaps he had decided to act as if nothing had
happened, or maybe he didn’t realize that I had seen him.  

Swallowing hard, I said, "Did you enjoy the show?"

The water stopped.  There was a long, silent pause.  When I heard the door
knob turn, the sound nearly made my heart leap out of my chest.  I took a
defensive step backwards.  

The door opened, and there on the other side stood Nicolas, completely naked!
His body was more fit, it was spectacular.  The extra weight definitely did
wonders for his physique.  While he wasn’t exactly muscular, he was
nevertheless quite toned.  But more than anything, it was his cock that caught
my attention.  Half-hard, it hung beautifully, thick and symmetrical.  

I tore my eyes away from it and noticed that he too was taking in my body,
openly appreciative.  I glanced back down and saw that his cock was hardening.
I watched as it rose to full hardness and felt weak.  James in not small (six
inches and an inch and a half in diameter – yes, we’ve measured it!), but
Nicolas’ cock was slightly longer  and at least a half an inch thicker.  

I looked back up, and our eyes met.  I wish I could describe the intensity of
the next few seconds, but words won’t do justice.  Lust, sparks, desire – call
it what you will.  I felt my sex gush with instant excitement, and what I said
next still stuns me:  "Are you planning to fuck me with that beautiful cock?"

He smiled, stepped toward me, and said, "Do you want me to fuck you?"

My lips said, "Yes," just as he stepped into me and planted a kiss on me that
nearly made me faint.  He took me in his arms and guided me to the bed, where
he lay me down.  I felt helpless and incredibly lustful.  From the position I
was in, his cock looked even bigger.  I’ve never been one to give penises a
great deal of thought, but Nicolas’ penis was easily the most beautiful thing
I’d ever seen.  The thought that he would soon be entering me made me weaker
still.

He lowered his body over me, and then guided his member into me gracefully
and rhythmically.  I was beginning to recognize what his attraction was.  He
made love to me very slowly, turning his body every now and then so that I
could feel every inch of him inside me.  He was a master of angles, of
positioning and of dexterity.  His body was at once sinewy, electric and
surprisingly talented.  He reached portions of my insides that had never been
stimulated before, and his control was something to marvel at.  He stared into
my eyes, smiled, moaned and purred, told me I was beautiful, told me my
breasts were stunning, my nipples marvelous.  He used the word cunt and it
sounded lovely.  I wrapped my legs around him and felt every muscle in his
torso rippling with sexual energy.  He kissed me on the neck, caressed my
throat with his fingers, and said into my ear, "I want to hear you come
again."  And that was enough to make me come.  The orgasm came without warning
and amazingly it didn’t dissipate but instead leveled out and lasted for a
good forty-five seconds.  He moved inside me in such a way that the orgasm
rode and rode, my whole body felt as if I were riding a wave.  And just as I
was convinced that the orgasm was reaching its end, I spasmed again and let a
cry.  I had never felt orgasms like this before.  One top of the other, not
one after another.  Shortly after the second small one, a third joined in and
soon my body was enjoying a chorus of orgasms, all of them happening at once. 

I don’t know how long this lasted.  I had been so awash in the sensations
that I was startled when he took his cock out of me.  I opened my eyes to see
him masturbating slowly and deliberately and then, his body tensing, he came
all over my chest and my belly.  I had never felt anything like that before,
and the first spurt caused a sort of after tremor in me – if not yet another
orgasm, then certainly something close to it.

Nicolas disappeared into the bathroom.  I heard water running.  He returned
with a warm was cloth and cleaned off the sperm.  I lay there almost numbly.
When he was finished, Nicolas kissed me on the lips, smiled warmly and said,
"They’ll be getting back soon, I better take a shower."

And just like that, my new lover disappeared into the bathroom.  

I crawled back under the covers with the intention of drifting off to sleep
again, but James entered the room about five minutes later.  Oddly enough, I
didn’t feel nervous or guilty.  He walked over and kissed me on the neck.  I
kissed him back and smiled.  

"Still wore out from last night?" he said innocently, a wicked grin creeping
over his face.

"Uh huh," I said faintly.

"God," he said,  "you can still smell our sex in here."  

I just grinned into the pillow and wondered what the rest of the weekend
would be like.