Laura and Vic
Vic Stephens, freshly showered after a tough game of squash with a colleague, decided to have a drink or two before heading home for dinner with his wife, Natalie. As he picked up his vodka tonic, he saw one of his wife’s acquaintances, Laura Strand, sitting by herself reading a book.
Taking his drink in hand, he approached her. His wife, never suspecting he would act on the information, had informed him that Laura was divorced, and very much available.
“Hi, Laura, Vic Stephens,” he said, extending his hand.
“Oh, yes, you’re Natalie’s husband, Vic,” Laura replied, accepting his handshake. “It’s good to meet you. How’s Nat?”
“She’s fine. I’m fine, everyone’s fine,” he said smiling down at her.
He motioned at the chair beside her. “With anyone?” he said off-handedly.
“No,” she laughed, and then tossed her hair to one side. “I’m avail . . . I mean “I’m by myself. Thought I’d have a drink, do some reading, you know . . . before heading home.” ‘To a bleak apartment,’ she thought, but did not add.
“I’m killing time before Natalie gets home and starts dinner. May I join you?”
“Please do,” she said, and he knew he had a chance at scoring then and there.
He sat down fairly close to Laura, but not so that she would find it offensive, and said, “Can I refill your drink, Laura?”
“Yes, thank you,” she replied, admiring his wavy brown hair and rugged good looks. “That would be nice, Vic.”
Vic signaled the bartender, got a nod of acknowledgement and turned to face Laura.
They covered the usual safe topics between men and their wife’s friends, and it wasn’t until he ordered a second drink for her that Laura began to open up. For the record, she had had two drinks before Vic appeared; now as she sipped from her fourth apple martini, she began to lose certain inhibitions.
“Then there’s the other thing,” she paused and took a deep breath. “My sex life.”
“Your sex life,” Vic said, gently nudging her over the line.
“Oh, I know what you and Natalie are thinking. I know what all my married friends are thinking,” she said faintly slurring the word “my.”
“And what are we thinking, Laura?” he said, finding her as intoxicating as she was intoxicated.
“How exciting it must be to still be available. To go out a couple times a week and meet new men, or women, as the case may be.”
“You’ve got me there,” Vic said, somberly. His eyes never left hers.
Laura felt the flush starting in her neck, knew it would spread to her breasts and thanked her stars that he wouldn’t be able to see how his presence was affecting her.
“Well it’s not,” she said bluntly.
“How so?” he asked gently, mentally urging her on.
“For one thing, there’s no one to come home to after working all day.”
“But you’re free to do as you wish…” he held it at that, not wanting to go too far. He hoped she would take it the extra mile.
“Christ, Vic, even getting laid is so fucking complicated,” she said sorrowfully.
Inwardly, Vic threw his hands into the air in a sign of victory. Laura had crossed the line. Now anything was possible. He reminded himself to proceed cautiously.
“How so?” he asked again, confident those words even if repeated would not hurt his cause.
And they didn’t. Laura, having opened the floodgates under the influence of the several drinks already imbibed, took another long gulp and said in a rush, “You guys… you think I have a license to fuck any man I take a fancy to. And…and your wives are just as bad. When for whatever reason they’re pissed off at their husbands, they go shopping and mentally undress the young men…even school boys at the supermarket or mall. You all think about me, as if I’m whoring around, spreading my legs for every Tom, Dick and Harry I happen to admire that day or night.”
He held up his hands in protest, but Laura continued with her rant.
“You all…each and every one of you, envy me my so called sordid sex life.”
“Do we?” Vic said softly.
“Yeah, maltepe escort you do,” she said with so much sadness, he was taken aback.
“The truth of it is that I don’t get laid nearly as much as you and Natalie do.”
“But you don’t know…” he said, mentally calculating the number of times in the past month that he and Natalie had made the beast with two backs.
“But I can make an educated guess,” she said vehemently. “And, since I’m not getting any to speak of, you damn well know you’re getting more than this little old independent, single-girl on the make!
“Then too,” she said, her voice rising to a shrill pitch that alarmed Vic, “there are those with a smug air of superiority, the fucking hypocrites. Yeah, they’re fucking around on their spouses. Discretely of course, thinking their better than me because they’ve managed their lives without getting caught. Well, not yet, anyway.
“Have you quite finished?” he asked.
She tossed her hair unconsciously and went on with her rant. “I especially don’t like being nudged in a restaurant when some good-looking man walks by, and hearing, ‘If I were in your shoes, Laura, I’d get to know him.'”
Vic was about to make a quick departure before she really erupted and caused a scene that might get back to Natalie, or one of her friends when Laura snorted.
“See why I’m so fucking bitchy? I don’t really know what I want.”
She looked at him, and then said, “Right after my divorce, one of the pillars of our community made a concerted effort to seduce me. I found it very upsetting.” She glanced at him, and added, “I hope you don’t mind my running on like this?”
“No, no,” he said, and relaxed. He would be staying a little longer, he told himself.
“Is he anyone I might know? I could put him straight, you know?” he added helpfully.
He was surprised when she laughed outright. “Put him straight? That’s a laugh. Vic, dear, the he you refer to, is a she.”
Laura grew pensive, and said, “I owe it to some of the others to say that some of my friends are really friends. I mean, they listen to me. They try to help. Like inviting me out with them when they know some eligible bachelor will be there. But nothing has come of it so far. But I do appreciate their efforts on my behalf. I just don’t know how to deal with men any more.”
“Sure you do,” he said, reaching out to place his hand on hers.
Laura left her hand there, enjoying the heat of their contact. Natalie is so lucky having a guy like Vic, she thought vaguely, as the alcohol did its work on her.
They made it to the parking lot before he kissed her. And as the kiss lengthened he pressed her up against the hood of his car and began to grind his erection into her groin. They both moaned through mouths filled with dueling tongues, and the car began to rock with the force of their mutual humping.
“Oh…Fuck…Yeah!” Laura gasped, when he wrenched his mouth from hers to huff for much needed oxygen.
Once Vic’s lungs were filled he kissed her again. The kiss went on and on and on. By this point, Laura had her black clad legs wrapped around his waist, one hand in his hair; the other was busy squeezing her right breast. She had a disheveled look about her when a car drove into the parking lot and the guys inside it began to hoot and holler at them.
Vic tilted her head up as he pried his lips from hers and they staggered away from the car, just barely maintaining their balance enough to keep from falling.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said. Laura meekly nodded, and got into his car without a second thought about leaving her own Volkswagen Bug next to the entrance of the bar and grille they had just left.
“Your place?” He inquired, knowing the answer would be yes.
She giggled, and said, “We won’t get laid good and proper at your place now, will we?”
He laughed along with her, although he didn’t care for her snide remark. And where would your place be?” He asked, opening the mamak escort car door for her.
“So, do you want to come in for a nightcap?” Laura asked, slurring her words slightly, pretending that what was about to happen wasn’t obvious to the two of them.
“I’d love to,” Vic replied, knowing what was going to happen already had set his pulse to racing.
As soon as the door shut behind them, Laura was in his arms, her tongue pushing into his mouth. Vic half carried, half dragged her into the bedroom and only then did their mouths separate.
“Fuck me. Fuck my brains out,” she screeched.
Vic dropped her on the bed, stepped back, and rid himself of his shirt and tie.
Laura threw herself at him and managed to bite his left nipple, before he brought her mouth up to his and kissed her passionately and attempted to unbutton her blouse at the same time.
She pulled her lips from his long enough to growl, “Rip the fucker off me!”
He grabbed a fistful of her blouse and tore it away. And as the buttons flew in different directions, Laura fleetingly thought of the money she had spent to buy the blouse in the first place, but her drunken lust quickly erased any regrets over a mere blouse . . . a long awaited climax was near at hand.
Vic didn’t bother unclasping her bra either. He just pulled it over her shoulders and then her head, and tossed it across the bedroom. His pupils grew larger on seeing her breasts, for they were larger than he thought they would be, and Vic was very much a tit man. They wobbled nicely as she lay on her back. Her areolas were smallish, with pencil-tipped nipples standing out begging to be suckled. He flopped onto the bed next to her and attacked them, groping them, squeezing them, and took turns sucking hard on each spiked nipple, until Laura began moaning with a mixture of pain and pleasure.
Finally, she pushed him away from her and started fumbling at his slacks. He helped her get them undone, and she pulled them clear of his legs; loose change fell to the floor, joining the buttons of her blouse. She tore his shorts off, but didn’t rip them; and gasped with pleased surprise when she saw his cock spring free.
He quickly dumped his shoes and socks and lay back on the bed, his hands behind his head, waiting for further comments about his cock.
He loved to hear women praise it. His ego wouldn’t tolerate a woman who dissed it, or failed to pay it some form of compliment.
Laura didn’t disappoint. “Man, you’re huge!” she said, taking him in her hands and jerking him slowly, seemingly fascinated by his enormous, pliant cock.
She kissed the tip and glanced up at him. “How fucking big is it?”
“Eight and a half inches,” he said modestly; preening inwardly like a cat with a yard full of catnip.
Laura ran her hands up and down his member, then leaned forward and took the head in her mouth. Vic leaned back on the bed and watched her suck him, her little head bobbing up and down on his dick, taking more and more into her throat until she gagged. She eased up some, but continued to suck him while making a noise somewhat like a steam-engine and plunged up and down on him until he shifted his body and told her to stop for a minute.
“What? What did I do?” She wanted to know. Her previous failures in relationships had her thinking she had done something wrong.
It took Vic almost two minutes to convince her that everything was fine, that he’d had a slight cramp and had to change his position on the bed.
“That’s all? You’re sure?” She asked, almost in tears.
“That’s all. Now relax and we’ll get on with our… love making.”
“Laura, I’m really impressed with your cocksucking. I mean, you took a good six inches down your gullet before choking on me. That’s quite impressive, really.”
“You think?” she said, reaching for his balls and lightly fondling them.
“What I think is that you should get naked. And so should I.”
She rolled away from him, and lying on her back undid ankara escort the zipper on her skirt. She pulled it down her legs and threw it over his shoulder where it landed on top of the television set.
Now she was left with only a pair of black pantyhose — no underwear. Laura seldom wore panties, especially when wearing pantyhose. It was too cumbersome for her taste.
Vic’s prick twitched twice when she propped herself up on her elbows and shook her tits for his benefit. He reached for her foot, thinking he’d remove her shoes.
“No, leave ’em on, I think it’s sexier,” she murmured, behind a sweet smile.
He rolled her over, grabbed the waistband of the pantyhose and yanked them down to her calves. Laura shrieked with delight as she raised her behind to assist him. She kicked her shoes off to allow him to finish the job of removing the pantyhose. Vic paused to admire her thick brown pubic hair, and was taken aback when she brazenly open her legs while staring into his eyes.
He studied her labia for a moment. He tried to do this with all his women, for each one had a distinct difference in their genitals, whether it was the length or size, or even color. In Laura’s case, they were plump, almost a dark purple and very wet. Her clit was sizable, very prominent and in her heated state, already totally exposed from its protective cover.
Laura laughed gleefully and pulled her legs back, exposing her asshole to him. “Now you’ve seen everything,” she laughed, and jumped from the bed.
“What the fuck!” Vic exclaimed, for a split second thinking that she was calling the whole thing off.
But what Laura wanted was to put her heels back on. She wanted to get laid wearing her pumps and looking much like the women she’d seen in Penthouse and Playboy magazines.
“Hold your horses, lover. I’m coming,” she cooed, and daintily resumed her position on the bed, then pulled her legs back as she’d done moments earlier.
He wasted no time going down on her, running his tongue the length of her pussy and drawing her elongated clit between his lips and applying a sucking pressure that drove Laura wild. She held his face tightly to her snatch and hooked her left leg around his shoulder, the heel of her shoe digging into his flesh. He paid scant attention to the heel concentrating instead on probing her cunt with his fingers while sucking harder on the endless nerve-endings of her clit.
“Lick my ass!”
He’d never even thought of attempting this perversion, but hearing the words flow from her mouth made him want to do it. Seconds later his tongue was circling her anus; her hands were pulling her cheeks apart to allow him better access. He realized his cock was actually aching to be inside her as he penetrated her anus with his tongue and heard her scream with delight.
“You did it! Holy Christ, I never thought you would! Oh, my God, you really did it!”
Vic wanted to laugh at her antics, but concentrated on the job at hand, and gradually worked his tongue in about three-quarters of an inch. He expected to taste her shit and had steeled himself to react accordingly. But all he tasted was skin and a faint taste of soap. Almost euphoric with himself at this newly discovered depravity, he ran his tongue around the rim of her anus, occasionally darting his tongue into her while sending two fingers into her cunt, where he felt Laura’s hand rubbing furiously on her clit.
Her leg came around his shoulder again, jabbing him with her heel once more. This time he took note of it and winced from the sharp pain. But when her leg clamped around him, pulling him violently into her anus, he forgot about everything except the fact that she was cumming and flailing at him with her fists and elbows. When she finished cumming she collapsed upon him, drooling on his cheek as she attempted to kiss him. They could not quite manage the kiss, because of there entwined position. But after taking a moment to figure out the problem, they managed a long, torrid kiss. Vic was astounded that she would so eagerly accept his tongue in her mouth after where it had just been, and charged it off to his favorite axiom, Women, who can figure them out?
Laura, thoroughly sated from her pent up sexual release, fleetingly thought, Well, Natalie, next time we meet we’ll see who’s the smuggest, you arrogant cunt!