There have been three important men in my adult life (I’m not counting Bobby, the boy who took my virginity, even though I’ve never forgotten him. His only importance was that one act).

The most important is Simon, my husband, the father of my children, the head of our family. I love him.

Next is James, the man who seduced me into infidelity. He showed me that I am a truly sexy woman, one to whom men are attracted like flies. He also introduced me to pleasures that I’d hitherto not known, and to orgasms unlike any I’d had before.

He is followed very closely by the third, Alan, a man of huge intelligence, quick-witted, and a good sense of humour. Not bad looking, but not exceptional. Well-mannered and considerate, he is also an unbelievably good lover. He built my self-confidence and made me believe in myself after James disappeared, before setting me on a path of hedonistic delight.

Alan and I were regular lovers for many years. We still see each other from time to time, but not as frequently as we used to. That’s a pity.

I first met him when I needed help with my computer at home. I told my husband one night that I was having problems with my laptop. He replied that he would get the chap who fixed the office computers to come round.

“He’s very good,” he said, “a bit quiet, but knows his job. He runs a small consultancy, and we do his accounts.”

“Oh, that sounds perfect,” I said, “please ask him to call me.”

The next afternoon, he called.

“Hello. Mrs Williams?”

“Speaking. Who’s that?”

“Alan Richardson. Your husband asked me to call about your computer.”

“Oh, right. Pleased to meet you, Mr Richardson, even if it is only over the phone.”

“Same here. But please call me Alan.”

“Of course, and you please call me Jane.”

“Thank you, I will. Now what seems to be the problem?”

“Ah. For the last few days, I can’t get anything to print. It keeps on telling me that the printer is offline, but I haven’t changed anything.”

“Oh, I see. Is there anything else?”

“Well, my laptop seems to have got awfully slow.”

“Yes, that does happen after a while.  Would you like me to come round and have a look?”

“That would be really good. When do you think you could come?”

“Would tomorrow morning at 11.00 suit you?”

“That would be perfect.”

“I’ve put it in my diary. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

“Many thanks. Bye bye.”

“Bye.”

I thought he sounded extremely nice. I would tell my husband later when he came home.

The next morning, the bell rang at 11.00. I opened the door and saw a young man who looked like Buddy Holly standing there. Tall, thin, and somewhat gangly. Glasses with thick black rims hiding his grey-green eyes, lots of curly dark-brown hair, thick eyebrows. He was dressed in a polo shirt and jeans, and carrying a small bag, which I assumed were tools.

“Alan Richardson,” he said, extending his hand, “you must be Jane.”

“Yes, I am,” I said, shaking his hand. “Please come in.”

“Thank you,” he said, stepping inside.

“Let me show you where everything is,” I said, closing the door and turning around to lead him into the study.

“Can I get you some tea?”

“No, thank you,” he replied, “I’ll just crack on if that’s alright with you.”

“It’s perfect. I have lots of housework to do. Shout if you need anything.”

“Thank you, but I’m sure I’ll be alright.”

I left him to get on with it while I did all of the usual things. I glanced into the study every now and then, but all I could see was him poring over my laptop, his long fingers tapping the keyboard.

I noticed that his forearms were covered with black hair and appeared quite muscular. His biceps, too, stretched the short sleeves of his shirt. Somehow, that seemed unusual, given his slim figure.

After about two hours, he was still busy working on my laptop. I went into the study and asked him if he’d like some tea.

“You need a break, and so do I,” I said. “Come into the kitchen, and we’ll have some tea and, if we’re feeling naughty, some biscuits.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he said. “There’s still quite a lot I have to do here, but it wouldn’t hurt to stop now. Everything is usable, and your printer’s working again, but I’m going to have to come back tomorrow to finish off.”

He closed down everything and got up and followed me to the kitchen, where I said he should sit down at the table.

“So, how did you get to meet Simon?” I asked, as I set about boiling the kettle and putting out the tea things.

“That was some time ago,” he replied, “I was going through a nasty divorce and needed an accountant. A friend of mine recommended him.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that you had a bad divorce, but at least you got a good accountant,” I said.

“Yes, it was most unpleasant. She had an affair with a friend of mine, so I lost both a wife and an old friend.”

“Good heavens, what on earth possessed her to have an affair with one of your friends?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to intrude. Please forgive me.”

“No, it’s alright. But I need to give context. She was, or rather, is, a very sexy woman. When I first met her, I thought it would be the usual fling, but it wasn’t. We just clicked and had the most intense sexual relationship imaginable. We moved together within two weeks and made love at least twice daily and usually more often. After a few years, it was still as intense as ever, and we got married. Even then, it didn’t diminish. I thought I had a life partner.”

“Well, sex is important,” I said, “but not everything. The difficulty, of course, is that when it’s working, it’s just there and isn’t important, but when it’s not working, it becomes overwhelmingly important.”

“You’re right. I’ve learned that. But, to carry on, I was away for a few weeks, and it seems she just couldn’t do without it. So she had an affair with my best friend, although I must say he’d been showing an interest in her.”

“That must have been excruciating. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“Well, I suppose it was for the better; otherwise, I wouldn’t have the family I now have. A wife who loves me for who I am, and two fantastic children.”

“And sex is no longer an issue?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he replied, “it’s good, but nothing like what I had before. Also, it’s not very frequent, but then bringing up two children is enervating. It’s OK, though.”

“It’s not easy raising children. Believe me, I know.”

“Oh, nonsense. Look at you. You’re full of energy. You have an exceptionally good figure, and you have time to talk with me,” he replied, laughing.

I put a hand on his forearm and rubbed the hairs gently.

“You can talk with me anytime,” I said, “I’m a good listener.”

“Thank you,” he replied. “I'd better go and pack up. I’m due somewhere else at least an hour ago. I’ll see you tomorrow at 10.00, if that’s alright.”

“That’s fine,” I replied. “I’ll have finished my run by then.”

He left the kitchen and went to fetch his tools. I went to the front door and waited until he arrived, then let him out. As he left, I noticed he had a big butt, and an old saying sprang into my mind: ' A big nail needs a big hammer.’ I wondered whether there was any truth in that. Perhaps I should try and find out …..

Alan arrived promptly at 10.00 the next morning. I had decided to stay dressed in my running shorts, which were really quite tight and revealing. They barely covered my panties, which were rather brief. I also made sure that I was using a tight T-shirt and had removed my bra.

I opened the door and greeted him, smiling inwardly as his eyes roamed over my body.

“Wow, you look stunning,” he said. “Simon is one very lucky man.”

“Thank you,” I replied.

He stepped inside, and I closed the door. We went into the study, and he sat down and opened my laptop.

“Your software is very out of date,” he said. “I updated some of it yesterday, but will carry on today. After that, I need to show you what you should do.”

“Very well,” I said, “I’ll wait for you to call me.”

After an hour or so, he called me, and I went back into the study.

“Let me show you what you need to do,” he said. “See here, where the cursor is flicking?”

I leaned over to look at the screen. In doing so, my breast pressed against his shoulder, squashing the flesh.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Take the mouse and click on this emblem that you see on the screen.”

He put his hand over mine and guided the mouse to the correct position. His touch felt strong and gentle at the same time. I did as he directed and clicked. Immediately, the laptop started doing something.

“See,” he said, looking at me, “it’s automatically updating….”

I didn’t let him finish. Instead, I leaned towards him and kissed him, my mouth sucking at his lips.

He turned in the chair, swinging it round to face me, as our mouths sucked at each other, our tongues intertwined. Without breaking our kiss, I sat down on his thighs, my legs astride the chair. Thank God it didn’t have arms.

I moved my hands down and pulled his polo shirt out of his jeans, then put my hands underneath and felt his skin.  

He moaned into my mouth and squeezed my breasts through my top, then rubbed my nipples where they were tenting the material. I squirmed as I felt a twitch between my legs.

Then he broke our kiss.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?”

“We’re married.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

He laughed.

“You’re naughty.”

“Hmmm.”

“And sexy.”

“You’re pretty sexy yourself,” I said, smiling at him.

He looked at me, then pulled my T-shirt out of my shorts and pulled it halfway up. I raised my arms so he could pull it all the way up and off. He threw it on the floor, then ran his fingers over my breasts.

“My God, you have beautiful breasts,” he said, “they are so full and rounded.”

He traced his fingers around the sides of my bust, making my skin tingle, before circling them around my areolae.

I thrust my bust forward, hoping he would use his mouth on them, and he did. He probed my nipples one after the other with his tongue, flicking the tip over my rapidly hardening protuberances. They swelled in both thickness and length until they stuck out like little bullets.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, before sucking at my left nipple and taking it and the surrounding areola into his hot, wet mouth. He swirled his tongue around my areola, then flicked it over my now-straining nipple. I suddenly felt a hot rush between my legs.

He sucked at my breast for an interminable time, while slowly starting to fondle my right breast, tugging the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and rolling my breast around.

I sighed and closed my eyes, allowing myself to sink into that wonderful little world where the only thing that exists is physical pleasure. There were such lovely tickles all around my left breast, and larger itches around my right one. I just didn’t want them to stop.

After a while, though, he took his mouth off and sat back.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Never more certain,” I replied, then raised myself from his thighs to stand in front of him.

“Come with me,” I said, holding out my hand.

He took it and stood up.  I turned around and led him out of the study and up the stairs into the main bedroom, to stand next to the bed.

He let go of my hand and bent down to kiss me. I pulled him closer, my hands on his buttocks, feeling the firmness of his gluteal muscles. Our tongues tangled with each other as we probed each other’s mouths and nibbled each other's lips. He tasted clean and fresh.

I could feel his hardness against my stomach, and rubbed myself against it. He responded by also moving his hips.

I let go of his butt and moved my hands between us, loosening his belt and waistband, unzipping the flies of his jeans, and tugging them down. All without breaking our kiss.

I pushed my hand down the front of his Jockeys and grasped his shaft. It felt hot and hard, and very substantial. ‘He may be slim,’ I thought, ‘but his penis feels enormous.’ A flutter of anticipation ran through my groin.

I circled my hand around his penis. It was indeed very thick. I could feel his glans against my palm, wet and slippery. I squeezed gently, then slid my hand down to feel for his ball-sac, that wrinkly treasure trove of delights. It seemed to take forever. By the time my fingers felt his scrotum, his glans was on my wrist. ‘Wow,’ I thought, ‘not only thick but also long.’

I broke our kiss and moved my head back.

“I’ve got to see it,” I said.

“Well then, take it out.”

I pulled my hand out of his Jockeys, then grasped the waistband with both hands and pulled them down. His penis sprang out, jutting in front of him at an upward angle. It was indeed big. Very thick and quite long, topped with a large, circumcised head.

His shaft was covered with a rich network of blue veins, many quite prominent. His urethra was large, bulging out along the underside of his shaft. The skin of his dark-pink glans was taut, giving it a shiny appearance. Precum dribbled out of his slit and hung down in a silvery thread, like a spider’s web, swaying with the pulsing movement of his penis. I could see the droplets moving down the thread, descending in little blobs.

I was stunned. This was the most beautiful, awe-inspiring penis I had ever seen. I wanted to be all over it, to lick it, to suck it, to hold it to my cheek, to worship it.

“My God, Alan, what a beautiful penis. It’s simply magnificent.”

I dropped to my knees and held it against my face, his glans over my left eye, as my lips rubbed against his shaft, my tongue just peeping out between them to taste his skin. I felt his pulse beating inside, strong and regular.

My fingers fondled his balls, gently manipulating his testicles, feeling their oval shape. They were quite large, bigger than lots of others that I’d held, but not as big as one might expect in proportion to the size of his penis.

“Aaah, Jane,” he sighed, “that feels really nice.”

I moved my head back and, lifting his penis up, licked up the underside, my tongue tracing the bulge of his urethra, until I encountered his frenulum. I felt his penis jerk as my tongue flicked over that extremely sensitive spot. I spent the next several minutes licking it, brushing my lips over it, sucking it. It was clearly enjoyable, judging by the noises he was making.

I stopped for a while and looked up at him and smiled, then returned to his magnificent organ.

I ran my tongue around his corona, feeling the slightly rough edge. It was quite a prominent one, as his glans was quite a bit larger than his already-large shaft. I was going to have to be well lubricated when the time came.

His precum was now flowing steadily out of his slit and spreading out on the surface of his glans. I put my lips over his glans and licked it off until my mouth was coated inside with his slippery fluid.

I felt his hand on the top of my head and knew what he wanted. Gradually opening my lips and mouth, I let his penis start to slide inside, the underside resting on my tongue. As it pushed further in, I had to open my mouth as wide as I could to accommodate his girth, my lips wrapped around his shaft. The corners of my mouth felt stretched.

I could feel his precum trickling down the back of my tongue and down my throat, forcing me to swallow several times. His penis continued to go in deeper, and I could feel the glans rubbing against my palate. Then I started to gag.

He started to pull back, but I put my hand on his buttocks and held him. I wanted to regain control. I concentrated on breathing through my nose. His glans and the top two or three inches of his shaft were in my mouth, and I could manage that.

I let him rest inside me for a minute or so, then started to move my head back and forth, sliding my lips along his shaft. As I did so, I swirled my tongue around inside, licking all over his cockhead, and around his shaft.

“Oh, Jane,” he gasped, “oh, god, that’s so good.”  He moved his hips back and forth, fucking my mouth.

We carried on like this for several minutes, my mouth full of his hot, hard flesh, feeling him twitch and jerk, when suddenly he pulled back.

“No,” he said, “not like this. Not the first time. I want to cum inside your cunt.”

Still on my knees, I looked up at him. His magnificent penis was right in front of my eyes, wet with saliva and dribbling precum. ‘He’s right,’ I thought, ‘I want to feel that thing inside me, to feel it spray his life’s essence inside my body.’

He put his hands under my arms and lifted me up, then loosened my shorts and tugged them down. I wriggled, and they fell to the floor.

“Look at you,” he said, laughing, “your panties are sopping. They’re like a wet rag.”

He tugged them down my legs and over my feet, then threw them to the side.

‘Oh, my God,” he exclaimed, running his hands over my abundant pubic hair, “I can’t believe it. You’re my dream woman. The sexiest, most desirable, most exciting woman in the world.”

“You like my bush?”

“Like? I love it,” he said, his fingers threading through the hairs.

“I think you should take off your shirt,” I said, “it looks a bit ridiculous with your cock sticking out beneath the hem.”

He unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off his body. I drew in my breath as I saw his torso. It was just what I love in a man, what makes a man so desirable. A broad chest with good muscles, with a thick covering of fine black hairs. A line of hairs running down from the parting of his ribs, across a flat stomach and disappearing into a thick thatch of pubic hair. Strong thigh muscles and sturdy, hairy legs. The man reeked of masculinity.

“Get on the bed,” he said.

I got onto the bed and lay on my back, my legs apart. He followed me, lying on his front, his head between my legs, looking at my crotch.

“You smell good,” he said, “sexy and excited.”

He put a hand between my legs and ran two fingers over my labia before gently parting them.

“God, you’re beautiful. Your lady lips are so pink and inviting, just waiting to wrap themselves around my cock. And your slit inside is so delicate and moist.”

He bent down and ran his tongue up my open slit, pushing the flesh further apart, then flicking over my clit. I gasped, and my hips jerked as a little electric shock jolted me.

He carried on licking up and down my slit, then over my inner labia and into the fold between my inner and outer labia. He licked and licked and licked. Then he sucked. He sucked my labia between his lips, his tongue running up and down their ragged edge. He sucked at the flesh between them. He moved his mouth down to my vaginal entrance and sucked it, swallowing my now-copiously flowing juices.

He ran his tongue all over every little bit of my vulva before slowly homing in on my clitoris and running his tongue around the folds enclosing it. Round and round he licked, but never directly onto it.

I was holding his head and bucking my hips as I cried out at the feelings coursing through my groin. This man was driving me mad.

Then his tongue flicked over the top of my clit, and I shrieked. He flicked it again, and it felt as though a dam had burst inside me. All my muscles tensed as an enormous jolt surged through my body, followed by an immense feeling of relief and satisfaction as my muscles relaxed.

“That was the first of many,” he said. “By the time we’re finished, this bed will be an absolute mess. You should have told me you’re a squirter.”

“I’m not usually,” I panted in reply.

“Well, that makes it special.”

“Fuck me, Alan. I want your cock in me now.”

He pulled himself up on his knees and shuffled forward between my legs, then lifted my knees up so that my feet were flat on the bed.  He pushed his penis down so that it was level with my crotch, then rubbed it up and down my slit, between my labia. It felt very wet and slippery.

He notched the tip of his penis at my vaginal entrance and then pushed forward. I felt it slip in slightly until it met the barrier of my vaginal sphincter. He pushed, but my muscle remained firm.

Keeping his penis in place, he bent over and suckled at my right breast, his tongue licking back and forth across my nipple. His right hand grasped my left breast, kneading the flesh.

My body was tingling all over. This man was stimulating all of the right nerves. He was playing me like a musical instrument. Gradually, I felt myself drawn into an atmosphere of pleasure. My body relaxed, and I felt his penis slip forward slightly.

“Just push,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”

And he did. He pushed forward relentlessly. His penis was like a rod of steel as it forced its way through my last barrier of protection. My body flooded my entrance with lubrication, desperate to allow this man inside.

Then suddenly it was through. I could feel it nudging open my vaginal walls. The top of his cockhead brushed against my top wall, sending surges of shocks through my nervous system. I lifted my hips, presenting myself for him to take me, my body wanting his cock and his fertile sperm.

“Aaaah.” I gave a long sigh of pleasure as his cock went ever deeper inside me. I gazed into his grey-green eyes, trying to see into his soul. They stared back at me, as though they could see into mine.

I felt his cockhead bump into my cervix. Some women find that painful. I don’t. I find it arousing. I put my hand down between my legs and felt for his shaft. There was still a good two inches outside my vagina. I put my hands on his buttocks, tilted my hips upwards, and pulled him.

“Push, Alan, push. Don’t worry about hurting me. You won’t. I want all of you inside me.”

He pushed at me with little jabs, as if to push my cervix out of the way. It worked. I felt him slide underneath my cervix and nudge the back wall of my vagina.

‘Ah, fuck. You feel so good,” I said, “just wait a minute while I adjust to your size.”

He kept still for a few minutes, then started thrusting inside me.  I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist, hooking my ankles together and letting them rest on the small of his back.

I could feel his cockhead banging into my end wall, but slowly that eased as my insides stretched to wrap themselves around the invader. Before long, his pubis was banging into mine, our pubic hairs meshing together.

I looked at him and laughed, reaching up to take off his glasses and put them on the bed beside us.

“Better without those,” I said.

His eyes were beautiful. Bright and full of life. A pronounced limbal ring around the irises. He had a full head of hair. I ran my fingers through it, feeling his curls. A fairly square face with an average nose. Sensual mouth with full lips, but slightly crooked teeth.

I moved my hands to his upper arms. He was holding himself up on them so that he didn’t squash me. I felt his biceps bulging as he supported himself. I ran my hands over his shoulders and felt his back, the muscles rippling with his movements. ‘I must watch myself,’ I thought, ‘I could fall for this man.’

Gradually, I felt myself drifting into that wonderful world where all that mattered were the beautiful feelings rippling through my body. My vagina felt fabulous, full and hot, its nerves jangling. My clitoris was throbbing, dragged back and forth along the top of his shaft. My breasts bounced back and forth, heavy on my chest.

“Open your eyes, Jane.” I heard his voice in the distance. “I want you to look at me as you cum.”

I opened my eyes to see his smiling face looking at me. I reached up and put a hand on his cheek, rubbing my thumb across his lips. He licked it.

I looked down at his body and saw his shaft appearing and disappearing as it plunged in and out of my vagina.

I felt my muscles tense and relax, matching the timing of his thrusts.

“Oh, God,” I cried, shutting my eyes again and flinging my head from side to side, “I can’t stand it. It’s too much. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

He speeded up his thrusts, and I felt that slow burn starting deep inside my body. It got fiercer and fiercer, spreading through my groin and making every nerve tingle. My clitoris was on fire and itched madly. I lifted my buttocks off the bed and pressed them as hard as I could against his thrusting body.

Then suddenly I couldn’t control myself any more. My body thrashed around under his, my arms flailing helplessly. My feet bounced up and down on his back. And I wailed, a long, drawn-out cry of extreme pleasure.

All I could feel was this magnificent, hard, hot, wonderful thing plunging in and out of my vagina, making my whole body sing. It was marvellous, incredible, and I didn’t want it to stop.

It seemed to last forever, but gradually I came back to reality. I opened my eyes and saw him grinning down at me. He was still thrusting, but more slowly now.

“You closed your eyes.”

“It’s your fault. Your cock feels too good.”

“So does your cunt. You have the most mobile and exciting cunt imaginable. It’s like one of those massage machines. Fucking you is a dream come true.”

“But you haven’t cum.”

“No. I’m quite good at self-control.”

“Ah. A challenge.”

“You can try, but you’ll just cum again, and I won’t.”

“We’ll see.”

I put my hands up and felt his chest, threading my fingers through the hairs, then rubbing his small, hard nipples.

“You’re very sexy,” I said. “Why do you hide it?”

“I’m shy.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Really, I am. I’ll tell you why another time. Right now, I’m waiting for you to make me cum.”

I smiled at him, then pulled him down so that he lay on my chest, squashing my breasts, his head next to mine. I unhooked my ankles and took my legs off his back, then wrapped my arms around him and rolled us sideways and over so that I was on top of him. My legs were now around his thighs.

He had, of course, stopped moving, but was still inside me.

I pushed myself upright, so that I was sitting firmly on him, my buttocks on his pelvis. His cock felt different from this angle, more rigid. I could also feel his glans pressing on my cervix.

I looked down at him and smiled, then clenched my pelvic muscles, making my vagina tighten around his shaft. His cock twitched. I did it again and felt him twitch again.

“You seem to like that,” I said.

“Yes. But so do you.”

He reached up with his right hand and put his fingers under my left breast, lifting it slightly and tickling my nipple. His touch was delicate and sensual, and sent little flutters through my chest.

I started to move my hips back and forth, so that his cock slid inside my vagina. I held my muscles taut so that my vaginal walls would stimulate his corona.

“Aaah, yes,” he breathed, “that does feel good.”

I felt him raising his hips to meet my movements. It wasn’t long before we were moving together in a synchronised way. It felt wonderful, relaxing, and satisfying. I didn’t want it to stop.

My breasts, too, felt wonderful. His hands were all over them, tickling, rubbing, squeezing, touching. He ran his fingers in little circles around my areolae, caressing the soft flesh. He rolled my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, then pulled them. He pushed my breasts together and kneaded them, then let go and just touched my nipples.

“Your tits are fantastic. I could play with them all day,” he said.

“Be my guest,” I replied.

“Bend down. I want to suck them.”

Without thinking, I bent over so that he could reach my nipples with his mouth. As soon as he could, he sucked in my left nipple, his tongue flicking over the little nub. I closed my eyes as I felt a warm glow envelop my breast, which, before long, turned into a tantalising itch. I felt my areola pucker as my nipple enlarged and swelled. He raked it between his teeth, sending further signals of pleasure through my body. I could feel myself losing touch with the outside world.

I shook my head, trying to clear my mind, but in vain. My imagination was running riot. Images of his beautiful cockhead nestling in my fornix, dribbling precum into my most private and intimate recesses, flashed in front of me.

I gasped and rotated my hips, trying to make the image move, to feel his cock in every part of my canal.

I felt his hands on my hips, pulling me back and forth, ramming his cock into me, his pubic bone crashing into mine. It felt so raw, so basic, so deliciously sexy.

I cried out his name as my body slowly lost control. Every nerve in me screamed with pleasure, every muscle strained. My legs felt like jelly and started trembling, then I started babbling as an unbelievable wave of intense yearning spread throughout my body.

“Oh, Alan. Oh, shit. Oh, fuck me. Oh, God, I’m yours. I’m yours. I’m yours. Take me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

And he did. He lifted his hips and thrust into me ever more powerfully, more forcefully, faster. I was tossed around on top of him like a rag doll, a toy to be used for his pleasure, a receptacle for his huge member.

“Yes, Jane, you ARE mine, now. Your cunt is mine. Your tits are mine. Your body is mine,” he growled.

“Yes, yes,” I cried, tears streaming down my face from the intensity of feeling.

“And now your womb will be mine,” he said.

With that, I felt his cock swell, further stretching my vaginal passage. His urethra bulged even more as a wad of semen surged up it and jetted out of his cockhead, splattering against the back of my canal, before rapidly filling up every space inside me.

It was as though I’d been filled with a gallon of hot liquid, a liquid that was thick but extremely slippery. It seemed to filter into every little crevice inside me, as though it was alive. I loved it.

There was a brief pause, and then it happened again, another fountain of semen as he ejaculated inside me again.

I dug my fingers into his arms as I felt his life essence squirting inside me. My muscles clenched even tighter, trying to squeeze every last drop out of his cock. Then he ejaculated again, and this time I couldn’t stop trembling. My mind went blank as he fired millions and millions of sperm into my vagina, wriggling around and looking for my eggs to fertilise. Then I collapsed on top of him, shaking.

After what seemed to be an eternity, my body calmed down. My head was on his chest, and he was stroking my hair. I put a hand on his shoulder, then ran my fingers lightly down his arm. It was a gesture of closeness.

“I’ve never felt such exquisite feelings,” I said, “they were out of this world.”

“It takes two to tango,” he replied.

“Well, this tango was the best in the world, led by a master.”

I kissed him gently, as lovers do when their defences have been ripped away by their pleasures. We lay together silently for several minutes.

I could feel his semen oozing out of my vagina. I lifted my hips up slightly and heard a squelching sound. ‘Damn,’ I thought, ‘I’m going to have to change the bed and wash everything before my husband gets home.’

“Do you want to get off?”

“I think so.”

I looked down at his abdomen.

“You’re all wet,” I said.

“That’s you,” he replied, laughing. “You squirted all over me when you had your last orgasm.”

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I haven’t done that in years.”

“Don’t be sorry, Jane. It’s a huge compliment. I feel very honoured to have brought you such pleasure.”

“You’re such a nice man.”

I looked down my front as I pulled myself up and off his cock. It popped out of my vagina with a squelching sound, then smacked down onto his abdomen, covered in semen and still semi-erect.

“Doesn’t that thing ever go down?” I asked.

“Not when you’re around.”

“Flatterer.”

Semen flowed out of me, dribbling onto the underside of his cock, before trickling off it and onto his pubic hair.

I felt an enormous sense of emptiness. It was as though something was missing from my body, and for a moment I considered reaching down and putting his cock back inside me. Instead, I lowered myself so that my slit rested on it and bent forward.

“We’re going to do this again. You do know that, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” he replied, “I do know that.”

I kissed him, then put my hand under my crotch to avoid dribbling everywhere, and got off the bed. I reached towards him with my other hand and helped him off the bed too. We walked together to the bathroom.

Once there, we showered together, cleaning our smells off each other’s bodies.  We dried each other, then went back into the bedroom and got dressed.

“Would you like something to drink before you go?” I asked.

“Just some tea.”

We went downstairs and into the kitchen. I made us both some tea, and we sat down at the table.

“Thank you for a lovely time,” I said.

“It’s I who should thank you.”

“Well, we’re both thankful,” I said, laughing, then took his hand.

“No, really. I mean it. I’ve been rather down, lately, but you’ve made me feel good.”

He didn’t reply, just squeezed my hand.

“The problem is that I’m going to want you a lot more, and I’m not sure that is something you want or, if you do, can manage.”

“Jane, you’re such a worrier. If you think for one minute that I’m going to let you go, you’re very mistaken. I have never experienced pleasure like that which I had today. What you gave me was incredible, and I’m certainly not going to allow it to slip away.”

I gazed at him, thinking that I was about to embark on a dangerous affair. I felt a tingle in my vagina at the thought. This man could do things to me, evoke feelings in me, that threatened to make me dependent on him. I would have to be very careful to avoid that.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” I asked.

“Without a doubt. We’ll sort out the details by phone.”

He stood up, and we went into the study to retrieve his things, then to the entrance hall. He put his bag on the floor and took me in his arms and kissed me gently all over my face and neck, then drew back.

“Until tomorrow,” he said.

“Until tomorrow,” I replied, opening the door.

He stepped outside, and I closed the door. I didn’t want the neighbours to think that I watched the workmen as they went to their cars.

I went back upstairs and opened the bedroom windows. The room reeked of sex and needed airing before my husband returned home. I stripped the bed and put the sheets in the wash, then put new ones on the bed.

As I worked at tidying up, I could feel my panties getting wet and slimy as his semen trickled out of my vagina. The feeling made me remember what we’d done and how much I’d enjoyed it. That gave me goosebumps on my skin.

I finished cleaning and tidying, then went into the living room and sat down on the couch. I stared at my phone, willing him to message me, but it was too soon. All I knew was that tomorrow I was going to see him, come hell or high water, and that he was going to fuck the daylights out of me. I couldn’t wait …….