Finally!!! I Fucked Another Man!!!

Finally!!! I fucked another man!!!

For those who have followed my blog for some time, you know that - thanks to my husband putting the idea in my head - I have fantasized about fucking another man for some time. You also know that my New Year’s Resolution was to turn that fantasy into a reality. However, through some combination of nervousness, pickiness, and indecisiveness, I found that fulfilling this fantasy was easier said than done. Even though while I masturbated I pictured my gorgeous neighbor or the young guy at the gym fucking me, even though I was determined to make it happen, I couldn’t seem to get over the hump. Well, I am happy to report that the monkey is now off my back!

My husband has been on an extended business trip in Europe, so I decided to go visit my daughter at her college for the weekend. On the way home, I was lucky enough to get upgraded to first class. Even better was that seated next to me was a very attractive man. He said hello when I sat down, and that was the beginning of a non-stop conversation, punctuated only by the ordering of more gin and tonics. Patrick was 15 years younger than me, divorced, and coming in the night before for a meeting the next morning. Perhaps it was the gin, perhaps it was his self deprecating humor, perhaps it was his gorgeous face, but I felt an instant bond. When he invited me to join him for dinner at the airport hotel where he was staying I happily accepted, knowing that the alternative was going home to an empty house and pulling something out of the freezer. I have to admit, though, that in the back of my mind I was thinking, maybe, just maybe, this could be the one.

Dinner was great. The conversation and the laughter flowed easily, as did the wine. When it was time for dessert, Patrick asked if I wouldn’t like to skip it and instead have a nightcap in his room. This was it. If I accepted, I was pretty certain what might happen. If I declined, I would go home, frustrated with myself for chickening out, and likely masturbate while picturing the sexy Patrick’s cock inside me. I told him I would love to.

I was a nervous wreck on the way to his room - awkward and self conscious at the same time. What was this handsome younger man doing with a middle aged housewife like myself? Nonetheless, I managed to keep talking - actually I felt like I was babbling - until we reached his room, the door closed behind us, and he lifted my face up and slowly, tentatively kissed me. This really was the point of no return. Even though my husband had told me that he fantasized about me fucking another man, even though I had resolved to do so, I was crossing a line that I had vowed never to cross. Are some fantasies better left unfulfilled?

In any event, I kissed him back, softly at first, and then the kiss grew in intensity. I felt his hands exploring my back, my ass, my breasts. I felt his cock against my leg. His cock. This is what I had fantasized about - another man’s cock. Playing with it. Feeling it in my hand, my mouth, my pussy. I reached down and rubbbed it through his pants. At the same time, Patrick was unbuttoning my blouse, unhooking my bra, sucking on my tits. I unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and freed his cock. I sank to my knees and took it all in with my eyes. This was the first cock I’d seen other than my husband’s in the last 25 years. It was bigger than my husband’s, both longer and thicker. I put my lips around the head and tasted a drop of precum. I heard Patrick moan. I took more of it into my mouth. God, what a turn on to be sucking on this gorgeous younger man’s cock! Patrick, though, apparently had other ideas. He lifted me up and said, “No, Liz. You first.”

He finished undressing me, then himself, and then he led me to the bed and gently pushed me onto my back. As my hands played with his cock, he kissed me - my lips, my neck, my breasts…and then his mouth was on my pussy, his tongue on my clit. I can’t describe the intensity of the feelings. To say that I didn’t last long would be an understatement! I came faster and harder than I have ever cum in my entire life.

My heart racing and my body feeling a little like jello, I pulled Patrick back up to me. We kissed, and I could taste my juices on his lips. I could feel his cock hard between my legs. I reached down and guided it into my soaking wet pussy. Oh God! Maybe it was the size, maybe it was the illicitness of the whole thing, but it felt so good, so intense, as he began to pump - slowly at first and then harder, hungrier. “Fuck me, Patrick! Fuck me harder!”, I couldn’t help from yelling as he continued to pound me. I can never cum like this, but this whole experience was clearly pushing my boundaries. I felt myself starting to cum again and, at the same time, Patrick stiffened, moaned, and his warm cum filled my pussy.

Afterwards we lay there and talked. I told him of my husband’s fantasy, which became my fantasy as well, for me to fuck another man. I told him about my resolution to do just that but also of all the self-doubt and indecision I had experienced since then. Patrick laughingly said that he was flattered and honored to be chosen to be the lucky man to deflower my married pussy. He told me that he comes to town every month or so and would love to see me again. At some point we fell asleep.

When I awoke, Patrick’s arms were around me, and I could feel his hard cock against my ass. Sleepily I rolled over and without either of us saying a word guided him into me. As opposed to the night before, this was slow, gentle, and tender and when it was over we lay entwined softly caressing each other.

Finally, reluctantly, I got up, showered, dressed, and shared one last kiss with Patrick before leaving. With my head spinning about what I had just done, I pressed the button for the elevator and, while I was waiting for it, turned on my phone. There were not one, not two, but twelve missed calls from my husband. Well, honey, I thought, be careful what you wish for…