Almost June, Wedding Season Is Upon Us--Let me tell you about this one....
"When did that happen?" Jerry asked me, stunned.
Apparently my ex-husband had forgotten to tell every last one of his former groomsmen that our marriage had come to an end. Jerry was the likely one for my ex, Mike, to forget, I suppose because he was as respectable as the summer days are long, and wasn't one of the "friends" that Mike confided in about his other women.
Hi, I'm Dolly, and before you roll your eyes about a woman like me who enjoys mind-blowing sex with married men (and if they're really sexy, married women, too! *wink!) getting all bent out of shape about Mike fucking around, please understand that Mike knew my sexual appetite when we met, and that I worked at our relationship and our agreement had always been that we'd tell each other about anyone else we wanted to get to know carnally and believe me, there had been plenty of names on the pre-approved list. What broke the deal was that Mike was neglecting to tell me about when he'd fuck my assistant, my niece, his brother's wife, our neighbor, our other neighbor, the lifeguard at our country club, and the hostess at a local restaurant where Mike and I would go for our special nights like birthday, anniversary, Valentine’s Day, you know. I mean, these ladies were all hot, I'd have approved of most of them. My niece, well I might have counseled him to stay away from her. His brother's wife? I suppose I had that one coming, after all, I'd ridden his brother's nice hard dick more than once and Mike's brother and I did some of the nastiest dirty talking role play fantasies of any sex of my life. But before I ever told Mike's brother, "God your children are gorgeous, I want you to breed my married pussy and fuck your seed into me, just take me over and give that wonderful cock of yours", I'd let Mike know I was going to screw his brother, had Mike's approval, and I'd let Mike know that of course I was going to make his brother wear a condom even though I was going to dirty talk about getting knocked up by his brother.
So it wasn't infidelity. It was lack of trust. And Jerry knew none of this. Just that he'd come into Miami for a convention, I'd met him for a drink, we'd found most every place we tried to get in crowded by his fellow convention attendees, so we got into my car and I got out of the convention zone and there we were, in a corner booth at a cozy neighborhood joint with great salads and fresh seafood, Caribbean flavors, excellent cocktails and music that was lively but played low enough so you could enjoy a conversation.
And Jerry asked me where my wedding ring was. And then he noticed there was no longer a tan line where there should have been one. At least he thought I should have had one. He confessed he hadn't seen me without my wedding ring on since the wedding. I pointed out that he didn't live locally and we'd only seen him twice in the handful of years Mike and I were married. And then I said, "which we aren't any more. I didn't forget the ring or lose the ring, so much as I lost the husband. Well, I didn't lose my husband. I know where my husband is, he's just someone else's husband now, which is okay because he's no longer mine."
Too witty. I got a blank stare and a "huh?"
"Mike and I are divorced!" I simplified.
When did that happen? -- Which is where this blog started.
There were other annoyances. Mike neglecting to tell me that he used the "seed money" from my Daddy, intended to help fund Mike's business start-up, for alcohol and strippers. Not that I don't like strippers sometimes myself, but again, as a matter of trust, he was misusing my Daddy's money.
And fucking my assistant on a day when I really needed her to finish up some projects....I'd blessed his sexual advances on her before, but if he'd asked, I could have said, "sure, just don't fuck Tina on Tuesday, I've got deliverables due Wednesday." I can't blame that slut, Mike had a terrific cock and could stay hard a decent long time when he took Viagra--which he did. But come on, don't fuck up my business while you fuck strange pussy, Mikey boy.
The cozy restaurant had a great kale salad, the grilled chicken was dubbed "Floribbean" and I was trying to get in a few bites as my catch-up with Jerry turned into "20 questions about Dolly's divorce." I answered. I answered it all, including the approved "open" aspects of the marriage. But Mike had gone rogue and he had no approval for much of his activity.
We changed the subject to Jerry. His promotion, his dog, his bland but comfortable life, and his recent fitness craze. Jerry was down thirty pounds since I'd seen him. His hair was thick still, his eyes seemed to be greener than I ever noticed before. You know, when I was married to, or at least fucking, his college buddy Mike.
And then Jerry blurted it out.
"I was always jealous of Mike. I've imagined making love to you since the first time he introduced me to you, Dolly."
Now, who went and squealed to Jerry that if he told me something like that my body would spontaneously begin to moisten and my nipples would ache for his lips?
Because a light bulb went off over my head. I no longer needed Mike's permission. And fucking Jerry seemed to make a whole lot of sense, since he was always nice, he was looking good, he lusted after me (a woman just never tires of that!) and I could throw Jerry's cock's occupation of my pussy and throat in Mike's face next time I saw him. Which I would make sure was soon. Damn soon.
"Jerry, let me get this check, you go get the car."
"Oh God, Dolly, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, please, don't end this lovely evening with my dream girl just because I blurted that out, I'm so sorry I made you uncomfortable.
"Jerry, " I told him, with a smirk I might add, "you didn't make me uncomfortable. You made me wet. You're getting your wish. But how about we leave the love-making for morning and just fuck the rest of tonight, is that sound okay?"
Five. Ten. Twenty seconds. Maybe longer. Was he silent for a minute? Longer? Nice fella was getting a lot thrown at him that night.
He kissed my hand, pulled my valet ticket from his jacket pocket and walked to the door. With a noticeable tent in his trousers.
He still had a blue oxford shirt on, undershirt too, when I rolled the condom on his cock, the taste of his precum all over my lips, my eyes watery from some gagging as he'd been eagerly thrusting a surprisingly fat and hairy cock upward into my throat as I sucked him. His socks were still on, but I got the boxers, loafers, and khaki trousers off before I laid him down on the bed I used to share with Mike. My casual denim skirt, red tank top, wedge heel sandals and some necklaces were on the floor and nightstand. My red thong, moist and fragrant with my sexual essence, was stuffed in his mouth. His snorted a laugh and nearly gagged himself when he inhaled through his mouth after I surprised him with the thong-sicle. I'd pulled it back out, and aggressively kissed him, sucking his tongue and panted into his ear, sounding like a bitch in heat, "I'm going to get so much pleasure from fucking you in my former husband's bed, the guy whose groomsman you were, I'm going to fuck you so hard Jerry, Do you want this pussy?"
He nodded yes. I had an inkling there was more mileage and fun to this question and answer format.
"Have you ever jerked off thinking about me, Jerry."
Another yes. "And have imagined it was my pussy you were fucking when you were having sex with another woman?" Still yes. Always did like Jerry. And that was before I knew he was in lust with me.
I tossed the thong toward his trousers and hunched over and kissed him long, slow, and slid my tongue toward his tonsils. I moaned into his mouth. His hands found my round, D-cup size 36 tits, just above my flat, toned and tanned 24 inch waist. He was kissing me back, and I raised myself up and centered my molten pussy above his thick fuck-pole.
And then I broke the kiss and slowly sank down, impaling myself on Jerry's manhood.
His thumbs and forefingers played with my nipples, I bounced, pumped, thrust, and rode that dick for all it was worth.
As an aside here, I may never learn my lesson, that there is a population of men out there who have seen my pictures, or know me in person, who lust after me, and when finally given the opportunity to fuck me, only last a minute. Dear God, how I wish I could have helped Jerry last longer.
He tensed up, grunted, "Oh my God, Dolly, fuck, your pussy, so tight...."
Sure, I'd have rather had him up inside me for longer. He went limp minutes later, and he was careful as he pulled back together with me lifting up to uncouple our loins. That was one full condom.
I unbuttoned his oxford shirt and lifted the t-shirt over his head as he used the warm wash cloth I brought for him to clean himself up. I kissed his forehead. Sweaty. Still panting. I laid down alongside him, hand on his chest, then slid it to his cock. Then I felt more inspiration, and shifted so that I was eye to dick-eye with his cock, and slowly teased the length of his shaft with my tongue, then reversed into a full sixty-nine with him. And instructed him to lube a finger in my nectar and press into my asshole with that slick digit. Jerry followed order very well. *Smile.
He was just about back at hardness when I slicked up my own finger and went for his prostate.
Which was when I got his second load into my mouth. "Fuck! Oh Fuck, Oh Dolly, Oh Fuck!" was his narration of that orgasm.
Ever see a dick that you know just isn't getting hard again that night? That's what was left of Jerry after I showed him his load, then swallowed, then kissed him. His lips and tongue licked and sucked my cock-sauce smeared lower face and lips and chin, and I love when a man savors his own man goo that I've just coaxed out of his cock orally.
I got us some sparkling waters, got back into bed with Jerry, and he was more at ease with the intimacy, his arm affectionately around my waste, his fingers roaming my skin, and I finally left him alone long enough for his fingers to explore my sex and with some pointers from me and then the assistance of my favorite vibrator (you dear lovers of mine know the one; four out of five dentists recommend it....)I got to join Jerry in the list of orgasms experienced in Mike's former bed that night.
I nipped at Jerry's nipple when my body stopped trembling. "So Jerry, what else is new?"
"Well, I'm engaged, and I hope you'll come to the wedding. Dolly, will you be my bachelor party? No other guys, just one on one, you and me, I plan to be faithful to my future wife, but this is so amazing and I know I can do better, last longer, I want to fuck you, or make love to you, oh fuck, please say yes..."
I mean to tell you, Jerry upped his game. I loved being his bachelor party.
There were empty seats at the back of the chapel but I stood during the wedding ceremony. Half because I was sore from Jerry fucking the shit out of me the night before his wedding. And half because it was so deliciously naughty for my juices to still be slightly moistening my bikini panties beneath my dress during the ceremony, as left over passion from one last pre-marital Jerry-palooza fuck in the groom's dressing room after his groomsmen, including my ex, Mike, all filed out and escorted the bridesmaids down the aisle. Mike was actually the one who'd trotted back up the aisle five minutes later to see what the hell the delay was. He opened the door and saw Jerry taking me from behind, my elbows on the deck and short dress that showed so much of my toned, runner's legs all hiked up to my waist, my thigh highs and stilettos making me "look so fuckable" as Jerry had told me when I'd stepped in to the room after the groomsmen filed out, really only intending to thank him for the previous night's pounding and give him a thanks for the memories kiss as I knew he didn't intend to have sex with me once he was married.
Mike's jaw dropped when he saw us fucking. "Jerry, what the ...wait, Dolly? When did...."
"Shut up Mike, go cover for us, we need ten more minutes so we can both cum and I can get him decently put back together enough to walk down the aisle and marry that lovely bride and she can never know about this! We didn't barge in on your banging the bride's married sister, the matron of honor, last night and her husband is a former Navy Seal so we're probably saving your life. So just do as I say. (As I barked all that out, Jerry was thrusting into my body like a champion stud.) And just so you know, he's touching me in places you never reached. Now go, Now!"
Mike slammed the door behind him, bought us time, and never spoke a word of what he'd walked into.
Jerry and I remain close friends and his wife is darling, and their daughter born nine months after their wedding is a sweet baby (I guess Jerry was all revved up after fucking me in church that day and he combined consummation with procreation later that night!)
I'm Facebook friends with his bride. Pretty girl. Wonder if Jerry would ever want me to bring her to the "dark side" of lust? Sigh.
Now, when I said Mike never spoke a word of what he'd walked into, I meant he never spoke to anyone else. I loved what I'd been able to share with Jerry, and Mike had come through by coming up with some story or another that somehow passed the smell test and kept anyone from suspecting that the bride and the rest of the wedding were waiting because the groom was balls deep in Dolly Jewel for the second time that weekend (by second I meant first Friday night, and then Saturday as I've described at the church. Technically it was the fourth time when you consider we'd fucked three times the night before. I was so proud of what a stud fuck master he'd matured into during our few months of fucking, long distance travel and conventions and then secret rendezvous since that first night. Ah, what a bachelor party it had been, Jerry had fucked me through to three of his own orgasms Friday night and gifted me with about five or so of my own. But back to Mike, no, he never said anything to anyone else, but above all, Dolly is a lover, not a fighter, and I was so grateful to Mike for helping keep Jerry's secret safe that I invited him to come back to my hotel suite after the reception for a reunion fuck. To which he replied, "why wait for after the reception, once the bride cuts the cake there's plenty of dancing left but you know we'll both be wishing we were upstairs.
One thing about Mike. Can't keep him away from fucking hot women. And the night of Jerry's wedding, I let bygones be bygones and was very happy to be the hot woman that Mike fucked that night.
"Dolly, that was so hot to walk in on Jerry pumping you like that...." he said in the afterglow. "I know we can never get back together as a couple, but damn we still fuck great together baby."
Which was true. But then, is there anyone reading this who has been my lover who didn't feel that he fucked great together with me? What can I say, I'm great when it comes to sex.
The last thing I said to Mike before I rolled him onto his back to have even more reunion sex with him while we played hooky from the reception was, "Oh and Mike, when I sucked your finger, whose terrific pussy did I taste? I know you've showered since last night. Was that seconds on the married matron of honor, or did you fuck someone else, too, and whoever it was, think she'd join us? I'd love to get some of that from the source."
After the guests left, I did get to sample from the source. Which is how I met the sexiest wedding planner in Miami-Dade or Broward Counties. But that's another story.
Purely fictional fantasy for your reading pleasure!