Still Crazy

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A dozen years ago Scott and Carol had an affair. At the time they each had their own reasons why it began, but once it did, it took on a life of its own. They had been friends for many years, and remained friends even after Carol moved halfway across the country following her husband to a new job. But during the two-years the affair lasted, sex dominated every moment they spent together.

They fucked in cars; they fucked in the woods at local parks; they fucked on the desk in Scott’s office; at times, if they were lucky, they even fucked in a bed, if one of their houses was empty. For months they met each afternoon in a seldom-used stairwell and fucked, standing up, before Carol left in her vanpool. It was sitting in the van, her pussy filled with Scott’s come, that she figured out if she crossed her legs just so, and squeezed them just right, she could apply pressure to her clit.

Carol’s legs had been crossed for the past 10 minutes in the nearly empty Metro car, and the pressure was starting to build. She looked around to make sure nobody was watching, then closed her eyes and focused on what she planned to do to and with Scott later that day. Soon she felt a familiar warmth spread upward from that single point of contact; her pussy overflowed, soaking her new thong. The orgasm that swept over her was her fourth of the still-young day. Number one was in bed, when she woke up wet after dreaming of Scott’s cock; two and three were in the shower at her hotel.

Scott was mostly unaware of Carol’s plans as he drove through suburban Virginia toward the Metro station. Although they regularly talked on the phone and exchanged emails, he hadn’t seen her in nearly four years. And he had never been alone with her since the affair ended. By mutual agreement, they didn’t want to risk resurrecting something they controlled so badly the first time around.

Today risk and control were the last things on Carol’s mind. For years she had been effectively sexless. Sex with her husband, which had never been good, was now virtually non-existent. She didn’t miss it. And she had never been comfortable taking care of herself. Then a friend told her about a web site — Literotica. Visiting Literotica — reading stories and, later, talking to people on the Board — reminded her of what she was missing. Women she met on Lit helped her understand that there is nothing wrong with making yourself come. And once she started, stopping was out of the question.

Of course all the toys in the world are no substitute for the real thing. And there was only one real thing that Carol knew she both wanted and could have. Scott suspected something was up when Carol told him that she would be in D.C. on business during the same week his wife was away visiting family, and suggested that they spend part of a day together. But as he pulled into the Fairfax Metro Station he had no idea what, exactly, was headed his way.

Carol’s heart was still beating quickly and her face was slightly flushed as she stepped off the train. She stopped in a rest room to wipe off the streams of thick warm liquid flowing down both her legs, and after a moment’s thought, tossed her drenched panties into the trash. She had a clean pair in her purse, and the thought of walking through the Metro station with nothing on beneath her sundress was too enticing ataşehir escort bayan to pass up.

The welcoming hug at the top of the escalator lasted just a moment too long; the kiss hello lingered on the lips, not the cheek; and Scott knew as they walked to his car that Carol was not wearing a bra. She didn’t need one to support her small breasts, but the lightweight dress did little to hide the fact that her nipples had hardened despite the summer heat.

Scott opened the door for her, catching a glimpse of thigh as she climbed inside. The sexual tension in the car was palpable even before they left the parking lot. Carol reached over and laid her hand on the bulge in Scott’s shorts. He flinched, and the car swerved slightly on the two-lane road.

“Careful, Scott,” Carol said, smiling. “You used to be able to focus better.”

“I’m out of practice,” he replied, then, after a short pause. “Is this a good idea?”

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked, tracing the outline of his cock through the fabric. It was a rhetorical question. Like all men, it didn’t take much to make Scott start thinking with his little head.

“Not really,” he conceded.

Carol’s hand moved down his leg and rested lightly on the exposed skin above his knee. Scott glanced down and watched as her hand slid under his shorts and boxers. Her fingers encircled his cock, squeezing gently. It felt familiar in her hand — thick and hard.

Carol unbuttoned his shorts, reached inside and pulled his cock through the opening in his boxers. This time when she squeezed a drop of clear fluid escaped from the tip. She unfastened her seat belt and leaned across the seat.

“Try not to crash,” she said, as she bent down and transferred the drop to her tongue. She savored the salty taste and squeezed him again, searching for more.

Carol took the head between her lips and ran her tongue over the smooth warm flesh, spending extra time on the sensitive spot below the tip. Her hand cupped Scott’s balls and massaged them gently, rolling them between her fingers. She took him deeper into her mouth, as deep as she could from this angle, until she felt the head touch the back of her throat.

Scott rested his right hand on her back and tried to keep the car on the road as Carol’s head began to move up, and down. He arched his hips to meet her, fucking her mouth as he drove. He didn’t last long.

“I’m going to come,” he warned, grasping the steering wheel with both hands.

Carol already knew. She had felt his balls contract, his hips tense. She kept just the head in her mouth, running her tongue around it as her hand stroked his shaft. She moaned as the first spurt of thick warm come hit the back of her throat. He shot again, and again, and she swallowed quickly, not wasting a drop. She kept her mouth on him until his cock started to soften, then sat up.

“You still taste really really good,” she said.

“You’re still really good at sucking my cock,” Scott replied.

He pulled off the road into the parking lot of a vacant store. He kissed her, hard, tasting his come as his tongue explored her mouth. He squeezed her nipple through her dress, softly at first, then harder as she moved against him.

“How much longer to your house?” she asked, when their lips finally parted.

“Maybe escort kadıköy 15 minutes,” he said. “It will go faster if you put your seat back.”

As Scott pulled back onto the road, Carol found the button and reclined her seat as far as it would go. He slid his hand under her dress.

“No panties?” he asked.

“I lost them in the Metro station,” she said. “Is that a problem?”

Scott responded by slipping his middle finger between the swollen lips of her sopping pussy. Carol spread her legs wider to give him easier access as he pressed deeper inside. When his finger was drenched with her juices, he removed it from her pussy and found her swollen clit. It slid easily over the small nub. Carol’s legs were wide open now; her dress was pulled up around her hips. Anyone driving by in an SUV or truck could have seen her straining against Scott’s hand, but she was oblivious to everything except the feelings building inside her. She cried out when she came. Scott kept up the steady gentle pressure on her clit, and soon she came again, holding onto the handle above the door as if she was afraid she might fall out. She had no idea they were at Scott’s house until his hand left her to open the garage door. Scott’s finger left a wet spot on the opener. He licked his fingers as he pulled into the garage.

Scott turned to look at Carol as the door closed behind them, and couldn’t help laughing. Her dress was still bunched at her waist, her pussy still exposed and glistening, and at some point she had managed to make a mess of her hair.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

“I look like I just came,” Carol said, “but if you think that’s beautiful I won’t argue.”

Scott helped her out of the car, making a mental note to clean the puddle off the passenger seat. He kissed her in the garage, her back bent over the trunk, his cock pressed hard against her thigh; then again in the kitchen, grinding his hips against her with his hands on her ass.

“Bedroom,” she said, when they came up for air.

“Top of the stairs, on the left,” he said.

Scott followed her up the steps, his eyes on her ass, and stayed behind her when she entered the bedroom. He pulled her hair aside and kissed her neck as he pulled down the zipper of her dress. He pushed it off her shoulders and let it fall to her feet, then took her breasts in his hands as he continued to kiss her neck and shoulders. He rubbed his palms over her nipples.

Carol turned and found his mouth. She fumbled with the buttons on his shirt as they kissed, then gave up and pulled it over his head. Scott pushed her back towards the bed and sat her on the edge. He kneeled on the floor between her legs. Carol held herself up on her elbows and watched as Scott spread the lips of her pussy with his fingers. She felt his tongue slowly lick all the way from her asshole, to her clit. He lapped at her like a cat over a saucer of milk, swallowing the warm fluid that his probing tongue helped create.

Carol let herself fall backward onto the bed. She spread her legs wider. Her hands found her nipples.

Scott continued to explore her pussy. He fucked her with his tongue, thrusting it between the swollen lips. His hands cupped her ass and pulled her against him, giving him greater access. She made a small whimpering sound, and came, unleashing bostancı escort a fresh torrent into his mouth.

Scott moved upward and found Carol’s clit. She gasped and thrust her hips against him as he licked it with long slow strokes. She was breathing heavily now, and moaning each time his tongue made a pass over her clit. Then, when she thought she could take no more, Scott slipped his fingers inside her. He spread them apart and explored the soft wet walls of her pussy. He probed upward, searching for the spot that would push her over the edge. It was right where he left it all those years ago, and when he applied gentle pressure, Carol cried out and tried to push him away. Scott held her down with his left arm, and kept a steady rhythm with his fingers. The orgasm that followed shook her entire body. She screamed.

Scott withdrew his dripping hand and held her until her breathing returned, almost, to normal. Then he stood beside the bed between her legs, unfastened his shorts and pushed them and his boxers over his hips. When they fell to the floor, his cock stood straight out from his body, a drop of pre-come glistening at the tip.

“I want you inside me,” Carol said, her eyes never leaving his cock.

“It’s not like you have a choice,” Scott replied,

Carol moved backward onto the bed, and Scott crawled between her legs. He leaned down and kissed her as the head of his cock touched the entrance to her pussy. Slowly, he pushed inside – inch by inch – until his cock was completely surrounded by warm, soft, wet, flesh.

Carol wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer, searching for a last millimeter of penetration. She remembered that feeling. She remembered all the times she had felt him come inside her; all the times she had milked him with her mouth.

For a while they just lay there, savoring the feel of flesh on flesh. He kissed her forehead, her eyelids and her mouth — then lowered his lips to her breasts. She squeezed her pussy around his cock, and he responded by subtly moving his hips, exerting a gentle pressure on her clit.

“Fuck me,” she said.

Without a word, Scott spread Carol’s legs wide and put his hands on her thighs. He pulled back until just the head of his cock was touching her pussy, then thrust into her with a single deep, hard stroke. His balls smacked against her ass.

“Like that?” he asked.

“Harder,” she said.

Needing no more encouragement, he began fucking her in earnest, slowly at first, then with increasing speed. Each thrust made a wet smacking sound as their bodies came together. The room filled with the smell of wet pussy and sweat. He forgot everything except her pussy and the way it gripped his cock on each stroke. She forgot everything but his cock and the way it filled her, the way it spread her, the way it pushed her ever closer to the edge.

When Carol came, Scott just fucked her harder, turning one orgasm into two, then three, until she couldn’t tell where one stopped and the next began. She began to cry out in rhythm with Scott’s frenzied fucking. He felt his own orgasm start to build. He held it off as long as he could, trying to prolong the delicious feeling. Finally, with a final deep thrust, he let go. Carol felt his cock spasm, followed by a flood of warmth as his hot come flooded her pussy.

Scott collapsed into her arms. She ran her hands over his back and kissed him, all the while gripping him tightly with her legs, making sure his softening cock stayed inside her.

“Thank you,” she whispered in his ear. “That’s exactly what I came for.”

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