Shattering the Myth (19 page)

By the time we got back to my hotel suite, the sun was coming up over the horizon. I only had an hour to get to my hair appointment, so I showered and dressed and headed for the land of hot-ass hair dryers and curling irons. At noon on the dot, I walked down the aisle of the church I had attended since I was baptized in it and married my boo.

I exchanged vows with him and meant every word of them. I love him dearly and would never forsake him for another man again. Like I said earlier, though, I think the night with Warren improved my bedroom skills, and therefore has
helped keep my marriage together. My boo thought he was marrying his shy, conservative baby, but on our wedding night, he found out he married a sexual diva.

I can't say for sure what men do at bachelor parties, but I can say this. Any woman who has her bachelorette party at the Black Screw is in for one hell of a great time!

He was sitting all alone by the fireplace in the great room when I arrived. It was a cold, windy night. I used the key she keeps under the welcome mat by the garage door to let myself in. I knew he would be alone. She called me at my office earlier in the day and told me she was leaving town on a business trip that afternoon.

I knew it was then or never before I lost the nerve to do it altogether. I decided to go through with the plans I had constructed over and over again in my mind. I wasn't sure whether or not he would go for it. There had been signals here and there—glances, smiles, body language—but I still wasn't sure. If he wasn't a willing subject, my plan could never work. I crossed my fingers and went for it anyway.

There he was sitting by the fireplace, sipping on some expensive cognac and listening to classical music, his favorite. He didn't even hear me come in. Once I saw him, I started to hurry back out the same way I came, but it was then or never. So I spoke. He was startled to turn around and see me standing there. I told him I used the key to let myself in and I hoped
he didn't mind. He told me she was out of town. I made him aware I knew that already. That I was there to see him, not her.

He asked me was something wrong, and I replied, “Not at all!” Then a dead silence fell over the room as one CD track ended and another began. I looked at him, he looked at me, and I think he got the point right away. If he didn't get it then, I'm sure he got it once I removed my trench coat, letting it fall to the floor, revealing my nude body clad only in high heels.

There was a brief moment when I thought he was going to curse at me, tell me to get the hell out of his home, call her at whatever hotel she was staying, and tell her the whole sordid story, making sure her love for me would turn to hatred in a heartbeat.

However, none of it happened that way. Instead, he got up from the fireplace hearth and walked over to me. The look of astonishment on his face turned to lust as he made the first move, saving me the trouble. He kissed me very lovingly, like an old lover who had just returned home from overseas. He and I had known each other for years, but it was time to take it to another level.

I pulled the cable-knit sweater he was wearing up over his head, removing it and letting my hands gain the freedom to explore his massive chest. I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth and dug my fingers into his breasts. Our kisses gained momentum as he picked me up, carried me up the stairwell to the master bedroom, their bedroom. Once inside, he laid me on their bed, and I watched as he removed his jeans and silk boxers.

There were no words, and that was just as well, because I had no clue what to say at such a moment. My reasons for coming there had been clear-cut, but once he laid his hands on me, other reasons for doing it came into play, such as passion, yearning, and lust.

He lay on top of me, pressed my arms up over my head, and began to drown me with his sweet tongue. When he moved down to my neck and then my breasts, I held onto the headboard of their iron canopy bed with both hands. That made my hard nipples even more prominent and manageable to suck.

He licked all around my breasts, starting from the bottom and going all the way to the top like he was licking an ice cream cone. His tongue was nothing short of magical as he used the tip of his tongue to trace a line down the center of my stomach to my belly button.

I pulled his head back up to mine, after letting go of the headboard, because I yearned for more of his passionate kisses. I caressed his dick, feeling it grow to massive proportions as he and I both moaned with delight. I grabbed his ass cheeks, one in each hand, and helped guide his dick inside my hot, awaiting pussy. It welcomed him with much enthusiasm.

I held onto an ass cheek with one hand and retook hold of the iron headboard with the other while he fucked me harder and harder. All we could do was look each other in the eyes, visually confirming that the lovemaking was what we both wanted.

I never expected it to be like that. I thought he and I would have a rough little quickie, and then I would leave and go about my business after about fifteen minutes or so. At that point, it became clear we were going to go at it all night long. He came inside me, and the flow of hot cum shooting up my pussy caused a chain reaction. I came a few seconds later.

He rested on top of me for a moment, both of us breathing heavy and savoring the fruit of our labors, before he lay on his back beside me. Their bedroom ceiling is covered with mirrors, so we could look at each other without actually facing one another. I didn't know whether the look on his face was one of guilt, confusion, or happiness.

A few moments later, after moving down some on the bed, I leaned over him and began suckling on his dick. The added seasoning of my pussy on his dick was thrilling to my senses, and I couldn't get enough of it. It was like having the best of both worlds, the pussy I was eating being my own. He put his hands behind his head and reveled in the penis massage I was performing with my warm mouth. I wouldn't stop until he came in my mouth. The reward was well worth the effort.

Afterward, he told me to turn over on my stomach. He left the bed for a few seconds to retrieve a bottle of lubricant from the master bathroom. Upon his return, he took his fingers and rubbed it all up and down my ass and his dick. He finger-fucked my ass for a few moments, probably to judge my reaction and figure out whether anal sex was my sort of thing or not. I moaned with delight, so he knew the deal.

As I laid there on my stomach, with his dick grinding in and out my ass, screaming and holding onto the headboard for dear life, I wondered what she would say at that very moment if she walked in. Half of me wished she would return from her trip early and catch us in the act. However, that was not part of the plan.

He exploded in my ass. It was a wonderful feeling. We fell asleep just like that, with his dick in my ass, and we slept for a few hours. He woke me up by ass-fucking me again, since his dick had hardened once more while he was sleeping.

We took a long, hot bath together. I rode his dick till we both came as the bubbles tingled against our skin. A few words began to exchange between us, but not many. We both knew it was wrong to be together in such a way. Neither one of us was about to put a stop to it, though.

Unfortunately, it had to end. She may have been out of town, but my husband wasn't, so I had to leave him there,
naked, dazed, and confused. I needed to rush home and make up a lie about my whereabouts. That's exactly what I did. If by some chance my husband chose not to believe me, it wouldn't have come as a big surprise. Most cheaters think their spouses are cheating too.

You see, there was more than just my whereabouts that particular evening my husband was unaware of. He was unaware I had walked into his office two weeks earlier while he was fucking my best friend on his desk. He was unaware that I paid both their asses back in spades by letting myself into her house and fucking her husband.

It is true what they say. What goes around really does come around. In my case, the revenge was oh so sweet, and so was the dick.

The whole idea was strange right from the onset, but I told myself that once I hit thirty, I was going to take that sexual-prime theory to heart and let go of all my inhibitions. So when my friend Tamlyn told me about this guy she knew who was into all kinds of kinky eroticism, I asked her to hook me up, and she did.

His name was Xander, and he called me the same night Tamlyn gave him my digits. He was all about the nana and couldn't wait to fuck me, sight unseen. I asked him did he get freaky with strangers often. His only reply was asking when his tongue could touch mine. Tamlyn told me he was fine and all. She even described him to me, and he sounded delicious, so when he related the fantasy over the phone he wanted me to help him out with, I told him I was down. Besides, his voice alone had my pussy feenin.

The sexual-prime theory must be true, because the day after I turned thirty, my pussy gained a mind of its own. I was daydreaming about dick all the time, masturbating every dayum day, and began asking myself one question: If I can't
wake up to a bagel with cream cheese and a stiff dick, why wake up at all?

I arranged to meet Xander at a hotel of his choice the very next day during my lunch hour, and it was to be a quickie. Since I was still a bit hesitant, I figured meeting him on my lunch hour was the safest bet. I could always use the excuse of having to get back to work as an easy out.

When I arrived at the cozy downtown hotel a few blocks from my office, I saw no one that fit his description in sight. A male desk clerk asked was my name Jocelyn. I told him it was. He gave me a room key, informing me that my husband asked that I meet him in the room upstairs.

Once I reached the room, he wasn't there. I began to get a slight sense of fear in my heart. There were a bottle of chilled champagne and some flute glasses on the table with a dozen roses. There was also a blindfold on the table and a note. The note read: “Welcome! Drink some champagne and then blindfold yourself within the next five minutes so I can come in. No cheating!”

I wasn't surprised to see the blindfold; Xander and I had discussed it on the phone. However, I thought he planned to blindfold me after we met, not before. He really wanted to take the blind date idea to an extreme.

I drank some champagne. It was nice and cold. Afterward, I sat on the edge of the bed and put on the blindfold tightly. I couldn't see a thing. My knees were trembling. I had never come close to doing anything of that nature before. I figured, if nothing else, I would gain an interesting memory to hang onto in my old age when my fucking years were far behind me.

No sooner had I sat down on the bed than I heard footsteps approaching the room in the hallway. I could hear him whistling as he unlocked the door with the card key. When he
entered the room, so did the sensuous aroma of his cologne. Then, I heard the familiar voice from the phone say, “Hello Jocelyn. What's up?”

I gave the typical reply of the '90s: “Just chillin'.”

Xander said, “Cool,” and I could feel the bed sink down some beside me as he sat down. He was so close to me, I could feel his breath on my cheek when he said, “Tamlyn was right. You're an extremely beautiful woman, Jocelyn.”

I replied by saying, “Thanks, but you have me at a disadvantage. Other than the description she gave me, I have no idea what you really look like. Can I take off the blindfold for a second?”

He came back quickly with a resounding “NO!” Then he lowered his voice again and said, “This is all part of my fantasy. Having a woman make love to me who has never seen me before. Once we are done, I will make sure you see me. I promise! Is that cool?”

I started to take the blindfold off and tell him I was leaving, but a part of me was enjoying the whole mystery man scenario. I told him it was cool, and he asked me to lie back on the bed with my head on a pillow. I complied and heard him get up and start walking around.

The hotel was pretty quiet. It was early afternoon, and most people hadn't even checked in for the night. I could hear the faint noise of horns blowing on the busy city street five floors below. Xander came back to the bed and turned on the small alarm clock radio on the nightstand beside the bed. I could hear him turning the tuning dial until he came upon a station playing soft music.