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Jane Takes Flight

After paying no heed to her older husband’s cuckold fantasies, the inevitable happens.

“Oh God Jane, you’re such a naughty slut.”


Jane was being naughty and she knew it, edging him again so close to coming in her mouth he was actually pulsing before she pulled off. She held his rocklike pillar vertical from its base with her finger and thumb while watching his face. She blew against it as one might cool hot tea. This was all new to Jane but sure she wasn’t ready for him to come.


His breathing mollified and Jane used the fingers of her other hand to gently stroke his balls, drawn up tighter than she expected. They gradually relaxed and her smile, when she began sliding her tongue up the length of his manhood, gave her pleasure away. That’s when Alex called her a naughty slut.


It was like music to Jane’s ears. The effect she had on this young stranger made her heart leap. She rose a little and shared her joy by kissing the angry swollen head and taking it between her lips for a few milking like sucks before releasing it with a comically loud pop.


“Such a beautiful slut.”


Alex lifted his head with his hands from behind to watch her run her tongue in circles around the swollen dome.  Jane’s breasts were nearly spilling over the top of her French lace bra. She glanced down to assure herself everything was in order. Satisfied, she took his erection back in her mouth teasingly keeping the center of her cleavage eclipsed by his shaft so he got only glimpses.


“Take off your bra.”




“What was that? I couldn't make out what you said with my cock in your mouth.” He chuckled at his own joke.


With her mouth covering a third of his swollen length Jane rattled her head side to side signaling dissent.


He began to speak, the first syllable of some complaint cut short when Jane slackened her jaw and suddenly lowered her face to cover another third of his shaft. 


Things stalled while Jane waged war with a gag. He put a hand on her head but she brushed it away wanting to win the battle on her own. After her throat obediently calmed to allow his swollen head to slip through the narrows her lips crawled further to bring her nose near the skin of his abdomen. After another pause, another adjustment, Jane pressed her face firmly against him.


“Jesus,” was all he could say. Jane loved it. She loved hearing him almost speechless in labored breath.


Jane impaled her tender throat on his shaft three or four more times until the specter of her gag loomed again. She pulled off suddenly in a gasp for breath trailing gooey strings of deep saliva. His shocked expression made Jane smile before she dove completely back onto the stony velvet.


The sensations of this cock in her throat was unlike anything Jane had ever felt before. Her husband's dick, even when engorged on a hundred milligrams of Viagra, barely reached her throat. She'd hang her head off the edge of the bed and let her husband pound at her face as freely as he wanted without fear of gagging.


This thicker and longer cock however pulsed fully alive along the sensitive deepness of her mouth and stressed an invasive feeling of fullness even beyond her throat. She made mental notes of the sensations knowing her husband would want to hear about them later.


Her fingers, lightly dancing along his scrotum detected another tightening of his testicles, directing her attention and alarm to possible ejaculation. She pulled her mouth free. 


With a moan of frustration he immediately took hold of himself with one hand. Jane gripped his wrist digging her fingernails in hard. “Don’t.” She wrapped her other fingers around his balls and squeezed threateningly.


He let go.


“You’ll come soon enough.”


“You dirty whore!” He slammed his frustrated head back onto the pillow in resignation, then laughing, “You wonderfully dirty whore.”






Jane's husband had been talking seriously about her taking other men for over a year, and teasingly for much longer. He stressed she was young and at thirty-five in her sexual prime. “Your sexuality deserves a larger universe.”


Jane was suspicious. She worried Shawn had tired of her sexually and wished to free her so he himself would be free for other women.


It took over a month before Shawn managed to convince her that wasn't true, that he was genuinely interested in exploring the taboo of cuckoldry. “I've never desired another woman since the day you walked into my class.”


That was sixteen years earlier. She was only nineteen, a college sophomore, an exotic beauty of immigrant parents. Maybe because they were from two separate cultures, her father from Milan and her mother from Mumbai, they raised her carefully and closely. Jane was still a virgin.


Shawn was already a tenured professor of sociology. Intriguingly brainy, sophisticated, mature and a scion of a wealthy family he swept Jane off her innocent feet on her very first day in class.  In reality he was no match for her exotic beauty but then she was no match for the worldly older man. 


Even though his intentions were clearly dishonorable from the very first time Shawn invited her to dinner at his house she went, but didn't relinquish her virginity until their fifth Saturday evening together. Jane too much loved the attention of being courted by the professor. She enjoyed the tête-à-tête of their dinner conversations that continued late into the night before she walked back to her dorm. She cherished the notes he passed to her as she left his class which she read and reread almost as if they were poetry.  Jane craved his touch and his kisses while at his house even as she knew they were all part of a full frontal assault on the hymen her parents reared her to protect.


The pain of her tearing was real but brief as the sweet sensation of Shawn's penis sliding on the slick combination of vaginal fluid and blood drew her body into complete and utter surrender. 


She was wondrously in love and eager to do it again and again, both to make Shawn happy and to relive the sensations. Shawn was a knowledgeable lover whose passion for her and her lithe smooth skinned body had no limits.  Shawn skillfully cultivated Jane’s sexuality which blossomed like a rose dazzled in sunlight.


They remained discrete. Aware their affair was against university policy they never appeared in public together. Most weekends, unless they went away together, were spent sequestered at his colonial house near campus. 


One of Shawn's interests, along with sociology, was historical erotic literature. He owned a significant collection. That fifth Sunday morning and the many more that followed were spent in an upstairs library lit by blades of sunlight knifing through its tall windows. Shawn read to her from heavily bound books about, as often as not, heavily bound women.


Jane cherished those Sunday mornings wrapped naked in robes. She loved the tenor of his voice, the rich black coffee and the little clouds of dust that swirled up in the light as he turned the pages. Each Sunday was a romantic epilogue to a weekend of torrid lovemaking before she dressed and returned to her dormitory.


Jane threw herself into the vigorous studies of her double major, History and Literature. Outside of class where she was an energetic student and spirited debater her quiet and somewhat withdrawn demeanor combined with her exotic beauty to create a tantalizing enigma for countless campus suitors. She had never been prone to flirtatiousness so had no trouble resisting. One by one, in their defeat, each boy eventually wrote her off as cold and stuck up, or lesbian.  A number of girls showed interest too but Jane, while cordial, remained aloof.


She was aware of the perception other students held of her but only smiled at the fire that constantly flowed through her veins and burnt in her loins stoked by her love for Shawn and what was in effect her secret minor in Eroticism.


Some readings were confusing at first. If not for Shawn's full lyrical voice and command of the language he might have lost Jane over the difficulty of the Roman erotic poets Philodemus, Ovid and Priapeia.


It was much easier for her to relate to the 16th century French novel Thérèse Philosophe which depicts a young girl being initiated, much as herself, into a relationship of philosophy and sex and she absolutely adored Fanny Hill. The tales of De Sade, Shawn possessed wonderful translations of Justine and The 120 days of Sodom, with their details of unimaginable acts of sexual domination and sexual violence made her squirm uncomfortably at first, but as she listened, wrapped naked in a soft velour robe her body responded in ways she had no control over.


Shawn could barely hide his surprise and pleasure the Sunday morning Jane rose, removed her robe, draped it over her chair and knelt head upon the seat with her naked bottom on offer. “Tie me. Spank me with your hands.”


Shawn used the belt off his robe to bind her wrists to the chair and reddened her bottom until his soft hands stung. Jane implored him for more. He removed his robe and draping it over her head and shoulders tucked it all around to block the light and muffle her noise from his ears. She widened her knees. He spanked her harder and faster building to a sweaty frenzy until her body began to shake in orgasmic seizure.  Jane felt her body surrender unequivocally as it had only once, over a year earlier when Shawn took her virginity.


Shawn stopped and reached between her thighs to rub his flattened web of fingers in circles over her wet sex. Jane experienced a cringing shudder until the steady genial massage brought her drained body back into her focus.


Shawn continued the massage. When Jane began to respond anew Shawn went on his back to the floor and nuzzled his face into her wetness and licked her soothingly as if it was her vagina he had been spanking. Using only his tongue Shawn carried her into another frenzy that resulted in a flow of wetness neither had before experienced. When he untied her she leapt to his arms and giddily kissed his glazed face.


The texts they read together guided Jane beyond the world of erotic spanking into bondage, masochism and even pain to the point where she allowed Shawn to burn the brand of a stylized Gothic sun into the tender flesh beneath her upper arm. She almost got off on the gentle seduction and anticipation until the actual searing pain shocked her back into reality. She had reached her limit.


After her graduation Jane and Shawn began dating openly, their sixteen year age gap generating consternation among her parents. Shawn deftly won them over and a modest wedding took place in late August.


They read all sorts of things aloud to each other nearly everyday providing a strong glue for their marriage.  Sunday mornings remained reserved for erotica that evolved from the dusty editions of Shawn’s collection to current erotic paperbacks like 50 Shades of Grey and even the occasional tawdry romance novel. It kept their sexual interest open and elevated. Over the years they swapped roles of dominance and servility, invested heavily in erotic accessories, shared outlandish fantasies but always remained true to each other.


Jane most recently grew fond of reading aloud from a paperback compilation of Penthouse Forum letters she found at times both erotic and hilarious. Shaun's tastes had veered to stories of cuckoldry. Stories in which men not only enjoyed watching their wives in sex acts with other men but actually craved the humiliating experience.






Alex Stevens knew none of this, having met the married older woman at the hotel bar just the day before.  It was early, a little past four when Alex entered the empty bar upon the completion of sales calls in the city. She was the only other patron, sitting at the bar talking with Jack the bartender.  Alex sat next to her partly to make it easy on Jack.


“Usual Alex?”




Jack drew a mug of Yuengling Lager from the tap and placed it in front of Alex. Alex looked over at the woman and took a long pull on the mug.


The woman asked him who he wanted in the election. Apparently he answered to her liking because the conversation flowed smoothly from there.  Casual talk between two people on the road away from home.


Everything about the woman, the geometric hair, the rich looking business suit, even the chilly indifferent demeanor, indicated sophistication and wealth. The bar remained quiet. They both talked straight ahead towards Jack making it a three way conversation in which Jack only listened and nodded as he endlessly polished a glass.


Each time Jane spoke Alex glanced at her and became more aware of her exotic beauty. She was slender, just filling out her smooth cinnamon skin. Her short black hair was glossy and thick, her nose a ruler perfect slope. Egyptian maybe. Jack affirmed each glance with a slight nod of his head as his eyelids dipped and the corner of his mouth curled into a half smile.


Had Jane known Alex’s wedding band, comforting to her, was purchased at a pawn shop, she might not have asked the young man to join her at the Indian restaurant two blocks away.


“No big deal, just Dutch, the food in this hotel is inedible.”


Alex looked at Jack who gave him another nod with a slight shrug. Alex didn't think the food was that bad, but he never had Indian food and this seemed as good a time as any.


Sitting across from Jane in the little restaurant gave Alex a much better view. The charcoal suit Jane wore was softened by the lavender lace of a bra that danced between the scooped neckline of her silk blouse and a deep cleavage beyond. Her almond eyes were overwhelming.


Alex loved the Paneer Tika Marsala Jane ordered for him. They shared a bottle of wine. Jane told him she was in town for a book auction, bidding on a two hundred year old first edition for a client. Alex had already told her he was a sales rep for wood pellet grills. 


When it came to their marriages, there wasn’t much to talk about. Jane was happily married to the only man she ever loved, the only man she had been intimate with. Alex confessed he had never been married and wasn't looking to get married anytime soon. “Hell, I'm only twenty-eight, I just wear this ring to keep girls dreaming of marriage at bay.” Surprising herself Jane welcomed the news.


By the time they returned to the hotel Alex felt on the verge of success but, knowing they were both spending another night, played the long game. “I know a little French restaurant near here for tomorrow night. Dutch again?”


Jane came up close, took his hand and squeezing it as she stood on her toes kissed him lightly. “I'd like that.” She turned away but Alex had twisted his hand to catch her fingers and pulled her back for another kiss. She didn't disappoint. She pressed her mouth against his, reached up and put her hand around his neck, opened her lips and gave him her tongue. “Meet you in the bar at six.”


In Jane’s room the next night following dinner, they stood kissing wildly at the foot of the bed. “I got my wings,” Jane said, “I'm your slut tonight,” and dropped to her knees.




“Never mind.”


Jane was using everything she knew, mostly from reading, to prolong Alex’s run up to orgasm as long as she could. She never imagined a male member could be so beautiful, certainly not Shawn’s pudgy conical shaped member with its pointy little head.


She saw porn videos but never thought up close a cock could be as gorgeous as this arcing pillar with its well defined cap. It was as thick as her wrist and impossibly firm beneath velvety skin stretched so tight Jane was amazed it didn't split open.


Each time she backed off to ease him back down amazing amounts of clear liquid oozed from the opening. She loved smearing it over the enflamed head with her thumb and savored the taste. Distractedly marveling at how big the slit appeared, her mind detoured to how his pee must come out in a really thick stream... when he suddenly interrupted.


“Please let me cum!”


“Yes, oh yes.” Jane kneeled up, reached behind her to release her bra and let it slide forward off her arms.


“Christ, could you be more perfect!”


She leaned forward, took the end of his cock back into her mouth and slid all the way down. Alex could feel his shaft again push through the tightness of her throat. He involuntarily thrust upwards before bouncing back down on the bed.  Her mouth stayed on him. He thrust again then again and again erratically up into her throat gripping her short hair until he was past the point of release.


Hearing Alex groan and feeling his cock pulse in her throat lifted Jane to a new high. Come squirted down her throat, come splashed against her tongue but none escaped her lips.  She so greedily sucked him dry that he had to push her off.


“Christ, you are one hungry little slut!”


“Oh, you noticed,” Jane said sarcastically as if her secret were finally out.


“I never met a woman like you.”


“Stop.” She went flat on the bed pushing her breasts against his groin and her chin on his belly.


“No, I mean it…”


“Stop, I liked it too, but it’s way too early for…I mean we're so not done…are we?” 


This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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