RENDEZVOUS

Recently I had my first extramarital sexual rendezvous, 
and it was an experience that I want to share. I am a 
very happily married woman in my mid-thirties, with 
what my husband calls million-dollar legs and a great 
body. And after ten years of marriage and three kids, I 
still think my husband is the world's best lover. Not 
long ago, however, I got the itch for some 
extracurricular activity with an old friend.

I knew my husband wouldn't mind, either. He had always 
encouraged me to try a fling, provided I recite all the 
details to him afterwards. For him the idea was a great 
turn-on. I guess the fact that I trusted him when he 
said he wasn't looking for an excuse to fool around 
helped to convince me.

Maybe nothing would have happened had I not run into 
Mark at a law school reunion last year. We had been 
friends in law school ten years earlier, before I was 
married. It had been mostly platonic, but we had slept 
together a couple of times, including one wild night 
where he had eaten my pussy for what seemed like hours.

After we each got married we had drifted out of touch, 
and I hadn't spoken to him in at least five years. When 
we spotted each other at the reunion, he hugged me 
warmly and kept saying how great he thought I looked. 
He couldn't keep his eyes off me the rest of the 
evening, which probably explains why his wife gave me 
the cold shoulder. I must say that I found his 
attention flattering, since he is a well-built and very 
handsome guy.

I thought of Mark often in the following months. 
Sometimes when making love with my husband, I would 
fantasize that I was with Mark again and climax with an 
unusually powerful orgasm. So one day I mustered up my 
nerve and called Mark at his law firm. After a few 
minutes of chitchat I invited him to lunch at a hotel 
located well away from my office. 

For a moment he was silent, and then he eagerly 
accepted. We agreed to meet the next day. I immediately 
called and made a lunch reservation -- and another for 
a room. The rest of the day passed in a distracted fog; 
my husband tried to figure out why I was a million 
miles away but I had decided to say nothing until 
afterwards. This was no time for him to get cold feet 
and spoil my fun.

The next morning I put on what my husband thinks is my 
sexiest work dress -- a black, cotton-linen number that 
hugs my hips and sets off my legs. I also wore high-
heel black fuck-me pumps. My nails were done in a 
provocative red that I never wear to work. Hubby's eyes 
were popping out when he dropped me at the train. And 
he didn't even know the best part: into my purse I had 
put a pair of black, seamed thigh-high stockings that I 
had never had the nerve to wear out of the house 
before. I planned to switch from my regular pantyhose 
in the ladies room at the restaurant before I met Mark. 
I counted the minutes as the morning passed and dashed 
out to the hotel before noon.

When I got there I picked up the room key and donned 
the stockings. Entering the restaurant, filled with 
businessmen in lunch meetings, I could feel every man's 
eyes on me. It was quite exciting. Mark had cleverly 
secured a secluded corner table, and his tongue was 
practically hanging out as I approached. "You look 
fantastic," he sputtered. Instead of answering I gave 
him an open-mouth kiss, teasing his tongue for a moment 
and noting with satisfaction that his cock had 
instantly come to attention in his pants. 

We sat and made small-talk while lunch was served. Mark 
was devouring me with his eyes, but I could tell he was 
unsure how far I wanted things to go. Time, I thought, 
to take some initiative. I reached under the table and 
gently stroked the inside of his thigh with my red 
nails. Boy, did he get the message. His hand found my 
lovely legs and slid up past my tights, resting in my 
crotch. I shook from sexual excitement. At that moment 
I drew the room key from my purse and set it in front 
of him on the table. He smiled, kissed me deeply on the 
lips, and said what a coincidence it was that he had 
cancelled all his early afternoon appointments.

Up to the room we went without delay. Mark peeled my 
dress off and removed my panties and bra, leaving only 
the stockings and black pumps. I eased him out of his 
clothes, and we stood naked and embraced. It was 
delicious to feel the heat of another man's body after 
all these years -- what a fool I'd been for putting off 
my husband for so long. Mark's hands roamed all over my 
body, setting off tingling sensations everywhere at 
once.

I pulled him onto the bed and gently nudged him onto 
his back. I fondled his cock -- it was rock-hard and 
thick, the tip glistening already with his precum. Then 
I rubbed it wantonly across my lips, before licking it 
with my eager tongue. "That feels so nice," my lover 
moaned. "Please suck it for me." I was only too happy 
to oblige. I opened to take as much of his meat as I 
could, and I began a slow up-and-down motion, squeezing 
at the base of the shaft to increase Mark's pleasure. 
His bucking hips told me that I succeeded. But I didn't 
want to waste his erection just yet, so I slowed the 
pace and resumed teasing with my tongue. He growled in 
happy frustration.

In a moment I found myself flipped onto my back, Mark 
poised above me. His rigid cock brushed my pussy lips, 
which were soon wet with my heat. Now I was the one 
moaning in anticipation. "You tease," I murmured. "If 
you were a real man, you'd put it in." He smiled and 
gave me a deep soul-kiss. 

Placing the tip of his cock at the opening of my moist 
cunt, he said, "I've wanted to do this since I saw you 
at the reunion. You knew it then, and you played the 
tease. Well, now the time has come." And with that he 
eased himself deep inside of me. The sensations -- his 
hard manhood, the smell of his sweat, the heat of our 
bodies locked together -- all these were magnificent. A 
current of sexual electricity coursed through my body 
as I wrapped my stockinged legs around his back and 
urged him on.

As Mark plunged deeply into my pussy, I realized that I 
had not taken my jewelry off -- my watch and my wedding 
ring. Suddenly I remembered that famous scene in the 
movie "Klute" where Jane Fonda checks her watch while 
she fucks a john, and I smiled because I wear the same 
style watch. 

The wedding band added to the sense of illicit 
pleasure. I'm a married call girl, I thought to myself, 
and I love it! I teased Mark with my nails and told him 
what a terrific fuck he was. He lifted my legs onto his 
strong shoulders. I grasped his arms as he carried me 
along on the ride to ecstasy, my inflamed cunt slick 
with my love juices as I came in waves. Mark followed 
moments later, filling me with his passion and leaving 
me warm and wet.

As he collapsed beside me, I was too turned on to stop. 
I felt his cream dripping down my thighs. I hadn't 
forgotten that Mark had been a very eager practitioner 
of the oral arts in our encounters years ago -- he gave 
great head. I turned him onto his back. 

"I've missed your tongue, too, darling," I cooed as I 
moved to straddle his face. He ate eagerly, his finger 
probing my sensitive butt-hole while he did, and I soon 
exploded in another gut-wrenching orgasm. We kissed 
again, our tongues a mix of all our tastes. By then it 
was past three o'clock and we quickly dressed to get 
back to our offices.

That night, after we had put the kids to bed, I did a 
sexy striptease for my husband and drew him into bed 
beside me. As he nibbled on my neck, I told him that I 
had finally had a date with another man. 

He was momentarily stunned. But as I began to recount 
the details of my liaison with Mark while stroking my 
darling husband's cock, he grew incredibly hard in my 
hands. We began to fuck wildly. And as we did, I 
noticed I was still wearing my call-girl watch. It had 
been a delicious and wicked day all around. I am a very 
happy woman of the world.