Alumni Relations With The Winemaker

"I still can't believe we did this..." he whispered to me, our sweaty bodies wrapped in each other's.  His lips returned to my neck, and his cock twitched against my flesh, giving me hope that we could fuck again before reality and obligations broke up this unforeseen coupling.


"I know what you mean, Jerry, God this was the last thing I had in mind when I contacted you.  You're not regretting this, are you?" I responded.  The last thing I needed was a surge of guilt from the fellow alum from my college I'd met for the first time that afternoon, and fucked barely ninety minutes later out of a sheer sense of, "he's cool to talk to, hell, I'd love to fuck him".  Nothing more, nothing less.  Simply, no strings attached sex.


I'd "met" Jerry after reading about his business in the university's alumni magazine.  His business had been written up, a winery in the Finger Lakes region of New York, where he'd grown up, and he'd named the winery after his pets.  I thought it was cute, and the photo in the alumni magazine was cute.  I don't usually drink Riesling, but the article said he had a dry-finished Riesling, so I contacted his company to buy a few bottles, and sent a note about how I'd learned of them and saying I was a fellow alum.


We became e-mail pals.  Jerry was a couple years older than me, and he mentioned he'd remembered reading about my track career in the alumni magazine when I was an undergrad, and then followed me a bit on the track circuit and at the Olympic trials, rooting for me because, as he explained, "you were a fellow alum, and please don't be offended, but you're really sexy."


"Offended?  Au contraire, Monsieur Jerry, talk like that will charm me every time."  So now I knew he thought I was sexy, and I told him that I liked his wine.  Truth was, it was okay, and not my favorite varietal, but by this time I liked his snarky small talk and view of world events and headlines, so we continued as internet buddies.  I'd even order some wine now and then for gifts to fellow alumni, since he'd gotten the license to use a college-related image on the back label.  He'd tell me about life in nowheresville, New York, and how his marriage was, in his words, unsatisfyingly stable.  Something I hear from a lot of men.  Don't want a divorce, but wishing for a hall pass.


And then Jerry sent me an email that he was going to be in my area for a wine and food festival.  I suggested we get together for coffee.  He suggested a glass of wine.  I took his suggestion.


Jerry was about six foot, somewhere around two hundred pounds, green eyes, had a nice head of hair. He had a sly grin, even when saying something witty, and wore a sport coat that was kind of a classic look, never current style but always a good look at a business meeting or country club.  There was a sadness that lurked behind the smile when he and I met in the lobby of my office building.  We took the elevator up, I showed him our views, and our banter just continued as if the emails we'd been sending had come to life.  "Nice wine bar at the end of the block, shall we?" I offered, following up on his wine suggestion.  "Sounds great," Jerry told me, as his eyes moved up to mine from my body.  He had the makings of a tent in his slacks.  And I had no plans for the evening.


I took his arm as we walked, and the warmth in him grew.  He reminded me of so many Dolly dates, nice guys who just needed to be on a date with someone who'll listen and laugh at their jokes.  And Jerry was witty.  He ordered a nice cabernet, and told me he knew from our discussions that his Riesling wasn't my favorite.  "It’s okay Dolly, I grow riesling because that's the type of vinifera grapes that thrive in a Finger Lakes climate.  I drink plenty of California cabernets, those grapes just won't work in our region."  Maybe it was the relief that I didn't have to lie about the wine that made me drink a second oversized glass.  I felt warmth in my face.  I touched his arm, his hand, his knee, and we pulled in close to hear each other over the noise as the wine bar grew crowded.  I slipped my hand in his, and Jerry interwove his fingers with mine.  I took my other hand and traced his chin with my finger, looking into his eyes.


"There any cabernet in your hotel mini bar, Jerry?"  I asked, and I felt his cock twitch through his trousers against my hip. "Take me." I said to him, then I leaned in and softly pecked him on the lips.  We were both silent for a moment, considering the implications.


 "It’s walking distance, actually,"  he said, and I leaned back in and bit his bottom lip while sliding my hand to his bulge. "You know I'm married, Dolly."


"She's not here.  I am.  And you are. It’s all good, Jerry.  Alumni mini-convention, sort-of."    I sensed he'd had fun flirting, but that it had suddenly gotten very real.  And I liked him a ton. "Jerry, If I've come on too strong, well, I never meant to make you uncomfortable, it’s just that the way you and I ....."


I never finished the sentence.  Jerry pulled me to him and kissed me. Really kissed me.  No hesitation, tongue leading the way. My free hand found his ass.  My other hand had never moved, and I felt a nice chubby hardon press into me.  Somewhere I thought I heard, "Get a room!" but I didn't care where we were because I was making out with Jerry the cool wine guy.


"I want you Dolly."


"You've got me."


We barely avoided stripping each other in the hotel lobby.  We were grinding our bodies against each other in the elevator.  I think another couple of guys were in there.  Didn't care.  His card key made the door security light turn green and I reached in front of Jerry, grabbed his hand and dragged him in behind me.


We were still in the entryway when I took him into my mouth and his finger gripped my thick blonde hair.  He was surprisingly forceful, making me gag as he fucked my throat, and I had to remove him to catch my breath while stroking his cock, dripping with my saliva. "I want you to suck me dry, Dolly, your mouth feels so good."


Really?  The lovely gent was dirty talking and hard face fucking? 


I smiled at him, narrowed my eyes, stripped off everything else I was wearing, nodded at him to do the same, and hissed, "Game on.  Nice cock by the way."


His tongue went everywhere inside me, some well-lubed by spit fingers, too, and we sixty-nined each other to a mutual orgasm, at least within twenty seconds or so of each other anyway, on top of the bed spread.  Which soon enough was on the floor since I squirted and soaked it.  Then we made out again, each of us licking our own sex flavor from the other's mouth, chin and cheeks. I located my purse and produced condoms, and used my mouth to apply one after fondling Jerry to a fresh erection.


I sat him at the foot of the bed and started in reverse cowgirl.  Love that position, so porn-esque.  His hands guiding my ass up and down.  "Shift back" I told him, then I dismounted and Jerry moved to the head of the bed, and I turned to face him, straddled him, slowly lowered myself back onto his cock.  His tongue was so wonderful to suck on while he thrust up into my body, hard, really slamming me.  I thought that he must consider himself to be some he-man muscle-fuck champ, and while he was not nearly overpowering me, I did love his results.  I love it when I never have to tell a man to fuck me hard because he's instinctively giving me all that he's got and understands that I'm not going to break.


Sometimes it’s the quiet ones who rock your world.  Jerry the wine guy was just such a man.  He could bite my flesh just enough for me to feel his teeth but didn't leave any lasting mark that didn't fade in ten minutes same as any non-bruise fingernail indentation to the skin.  I loved the feel of him savoring me, consuming me.  "I want to fuck you all night, Dolly, God, your body is incredible, you ARE sex, plain and simple, your picture must be in the dictionary under sex."


That dictionary line didn't make me laugh, it made me even wetter.  I squirted again as his finger tip smeared my body's fluids around the tight rim of my ass. My body was in a state of tremors after tremors, I moaned and grunted like an animal, rutting and mating in the farm yard. "Fuck me from behind Jerry, fuck me like a dog."  Okay, dirtier than I generally talk, but it was turning him on and turning me on too, the impolite tone of our mating.


He stood at the side of the bed and entered me slowly, hands on my hips, then my thighs, one hand finding my clit and twiddling me to another wet orgasm and another hand full of my hair, pulling hard enough to make our sex seem dirty and forbidden.  "Does it get you hot knowing you can steal any woman's husband Dolly, that all men want to fuck you, feel your tight, warm silky pussy squeeze their married seed into you..." 


Wow, that was kind of a line I hadn't expected.  I had to remind myself that, yes, Whew, he was wearing a condom, that his whole, "seed into you" was a figure of speech.  I was perspiring, his sweat was building, and because of the oral copulation I'd performed on Jerry in our "welcome to my hotel room" sixty-nine adventure, he was lasting a nice amount of time.


Without warning he pulled out and ordered me (Yes!  He was ordering me!  So fucking cool, I loved it!) to get on my back so he could look in my eyes when he made my pussy his.  Got to admire that he was staying with the mood he'd chosen for the tryst. Had this been a Naughty America Milf Porn movie, it would have been titled, "Dirty Talking Hotel Slut Tryst" or something like that.


And the thought of MILF porn made my body convulse over the sexual top again.  Dirty thinking will do that for me sometimes.  Jerry slid back into me (think: contented, fulfilled face and stuffed pussy) and he clasped fingers with me, pinning my hands to the sheets.  I gripped his hips with my legs, locked my ankles behind the small of his back, and his sweaty forehead was flush against mine.  Our eyes so close.  I just closed mine, I wanted to experience this hard lustful fuck with all my senses, and I felt his teeth go to my ear as his hip speed seemed to double.  Getting close.


I pulled one hand free, allowing him to keep control of my other hand.  I reached around his shoulder, dug my nails into Jerry and pulled him tight, "that's it baby, fuck me, fuck my slutty married pussy with your hard cock, give me that married steel cock, I want it, fuck that cock into me."  Okay, I'd gotten carried away.  But so had he, and he moved his face to my neck and gasped, grunted and stiffened.  "Mmmmm, yes baby, cum in me, give me your seed, God you fucked me so good, right here in my husband's bed."


That last part got an exhale and a giggle. We were a mess.  A happy, freshly fucked, had used a condom but talked dirty as if we hadn't used one mess.  He pulled his head back, looked into my eyes, a smile like I hadn't seen on his face all night.  And we both cracked up.


We kissed, more tenderly.  Whatever was all built up in him, wow, that had been an intense fuck. 


We stayed naked and I removed his condom and licked his shrinking dick clean. He suckled at my nipples.  We caressed. 


He was still breathing kind of heavy when we got to that, "I still can't believe we did this..." line that I quoted to start this story.


We found some lousy screw cap wine in mini bar and decided to order something better from room service.  And some fruit and cheese.


We showered, having a marvelous time cleaning and teasing each other's bodies.  It was late, after midnight, and he asked if I would stay.  I smiled, and told him I'd love to some other time, but that I had early business in the morning.  And that I would definitely see him again.


My mind was reeling as I drove home.  Wow, such fun.  Love when I meet someone who is normal and then can get animal grunting hot sexy hard fucking when it was time for sex.


Since I'd showered at Jerry's, I simply stripped when I got home and crawled into bed. My husband (yes, did I neglect that detail, I was married at the time) caressed me, kissed my shoulder, my neck, and asked me, "did you have fun with your friend?"  I moaned, "yes baby, I did.' 


"Nice guy?"  he asked.  No illusions, my husband knew me, knew the bottom line of my night out without having to ask.  "Mmmmm, yes, he was very nice, baby."


For the second time that night my toned, firm, nude body became wrapped and entangled with a strong naked man's body in a bed.  He whispered into my ear, "tell me the dirty details when you ride me at sun-up?"


I smiled, my eyes closed, my body complety fulfilled and contented, "Every bit of it, darling.  Every hard slutty fucking bit of it."



Purely fictional fantasy for your reading pleasure!

< Return to my blog