A Second Chance

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I looked at the woman leaning against the wall carefully. She reminded me of someone I’d known at one time. She had the same mouth, the same eyes, and the same open smile, but there the resemblance ended. This woman was much slimmer than Sophie had been, her hair was shorter and far less elegantly styled and she didn’t carry herself in the same upright, self confident manner. Even so, the similarity was amazing, and I couldn’t help but stand and stare. Then, as if conscious that someone was watching her, she looked up and her eyes met mine.

“Dermot? It is Dermot, isn’t it?”

So it was Sophie, and obviously I’d changed as much as she in the last four years.

“Good God, Sophie! Talk about a blast from the past. How are you doing?”

“Surviving, Dermot, as much as anybody else.” She glanced at her watch. “It would be nice to talk to you but I’m busy right now, are you around for a day or two?”

She didn’t look busy leaning on a wall, but what did I know? “Yes, I’m in town until Thursday, and it would be nice to talk to you too. Can we meet?”

“I’d like that. Tomorrow, say about eight?”

“Fine, but you’ll have to say where because I don’t know my way around yet.”

“Tell me where you’re staying and I’ll come to you. Oh, and don’t worry about Luke, we’re not together anymore.” She smiled briefly in remembrance of our past.

I gave her the name of my hotel and offered up silent thanks that Luke wasn’t going to be after my skin in the way he was the last time Sophie and I met, then I went to my appointment and put her to the back of my mind for a while.

That night as I lay in my hotel bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about the Sophie I’d once known. She and I had been lovers, our affair starting on the night before she married Luke and lasting the best part of three years. It began when we shared a ‘knee trembler’ in an alley behind the club where she was holding her hen party, with one of her friends keeping lookout while she enjoyed her last shag as a free woman. We had fucked up against a wall with her skirt rucked up and her knickers around her ankle, and with her ‘lookout’ watching shamelessly. Afterwards she handed me her knickers and told me to keep them as a momento — I still have them. She wanted, she said, to feel my cum trickling down her legs while she danced. I discovered later that that sort of gesture was par for the course with her; she had a very open and individual attitude to sex.

It was about a couple of months later that we met again as I wasted an afternoon idling around the shops. To be honest I’d almost forgotten about her, until a voice behind me asked ‘Have you still got them?’ and I looked around to find her there, smiling broadly. It took a moment for memory to kick in, I mean, the last time I’d seen her she had been dressed in a rah-rah skirt and a T-shirt with the logo ‘I’m still a virgin, but this is an old shirt’ blazoned across the front. Now here she was dressed in a light blue business suit over a tailored white blouse and carrying a briefcase, but then I remembered her and I grinned back.

“Yes, as matter of fact I have. And any further contributions you care to make would be gratefully received.”

She laughed, a light tinkling laugh showing no embarrassment or offence at my remark. “I have a business meeting to attend and I don’t think a ‘Sharon Stone’ moment would be appreciated, do you?”

“Damn!” I pretended devastation and she laughed again, before raising her hand in goodbye and going on her way.

I expected that to be that, but about fifteen minutes later she came back down the street with a face like thunder.

“That was a short meeting.” I said as she got near.

“Cancelled!” She barked the word at me as if it were my fault. “And the ignorant bastards didn’t even have the decency to let me know.”

“Then let me buy you a coffee and give you chance to cool off, or do you need to get home?”

“There’s nobody at home and I’m not sure he’d notice if he was.”

“Oh.” I said and left it at that, domestic disputes are not my thing.

She calmed down pretty quickly and then we spent nearly two hours sitting, drinking coffee and chatting. I think the waitress thought we were testing out their ‘buy one coffee and get free refill’s’ policy, judging by the dirty look we got each time she came around, but in truth the reason was simply that she was so easy to talk to and so straightforward. There were no airs and graces, no pretence, and no hidden agendas. What you saw was what you got with Sophie. I must also say that what I saw, and got, was pretty spectacular. She was a woman in her absolute prime, mid twenties, tall, well built, auburn haired and with the most glorious breasts it has ever been my pleasure to lose my cock between.

Sophie ran a small recruitment and temps agency that supplied local factories with short term staff, while her husband, Luke, owned a crane hire business. They were not yet wealthy, but certainly casino siteleri working towards it, enjoying a secure and prosperous lifestyle. I tell you this because it is relevant to the story. The only problem inherent in their way of life was that they were often like ships that passed in the night and communication was not good. Her hours were, to put it mildly, flexible, and she was often out and about visiting clients and setting up meetings, while Luke would regularly drive a crane himself if the job was particularly tricky, and could be away for days on end. Combine that with his ‘missionary position in the dark’ approach to sex and her very high and adventurous sex drive, and it was almost inevitable that she would stray. And stray she did, with me as the lucky recipient.

Now, I must admit that I was a bit wary of starting anything with Sophie. Luke was a big man, ex-army, short tempered and aggressive, and with a habit of solving problems with his fists, and I’m a dyed in the wool coward. But Sophie was a real beauty, with an easy laugh, a happy outlook, and a very frustrated libido. She needed someone in bed with an open attitude and an adventurous streak, and a willingness to satisfy her in whichever way she needed. I’m glad to say she saw that person in me and made it plain that she was available.

With the donated knickers as a starting point, our coffee shop chat soon began to take on overt sexual overtones, with innuendo and double meanings littering our conversation. We both began to feel randy and a repeat of our first encounter became more and more likely. Eventually we agreed to meet again the following day, this time at a motel just outside of town, and we both knew it was not just for coffee.

No sooner had we closed the room door behind us than we were in each other’s arms and kissing passionately, but then she wriggled free and held me at arms length.

“Dermot, hold it a minute, we need to set some rules, and as I’m the one who’s married and has the most to lose, I’m gonna set them.”

I couldn’t fault the logic, so I stood quiet and listened.

“Firstly, you must never contact me unless it is prearranged. Secondly, you have absolutely no rights over me whatever. Thirdly and most importantly, we will fuck my way, and you’d better be a damn good shag, because you and I are here together only because Luke doesn’t do it for me. If I’m going to stay with him I need extras, and you’re it. To put it in a nutshell, I’m going to use you as my animated dildo, and if you can’t handle that, well – tough.”

I looked at her in absolute amazement, but at least I couldn’t say I didn’t know where I stood. Strange as it may sound, that’s the way it worked. She always rang me to say that she’d be free on such and such a day, and we’d get together. Sometimes it would be almost every day, and sometimes two or three weeks would go by between her calls.

Then, when we did meet, it was Sophie who called the shots, arranging where we would meet, telling me what she fancied doing, and even sometimes how we would do it. But the gaps between meetings were down to her fear of being caught, not because she waited until she felt horny then called on me to sort her out. And, even though she set the agenda, that was usually because she was plain fucking kinky and had a much wilder imagination that I would ever have. She was naturally an assertive person, but in actual fact she could also be slightly submissive sometimes, and even enjoyed being spanked and tied up.

In short, our relationship was based on pure lust and, although she never quite used me as the ‘animated dildo’ she spoke of, I was there just to provide the satisfaction she wasn’t getting at home and she made sure I knew it. Romance never, ever intruded into our liaisons, and I didn’t care. As far as I was concerned, here was a beautiful woman who wanted me to fuck her with no strings, and I was quite happy with that arrangement. The only thing that I wasn’t happy about was that she would deride Luke’s bedroom abilities to me, and I felt that was unnecessary. She was with Luke purely for his money and the lifestyle he gave her, and she made no secret of that to me either.

That first motel meeting was one of plain uninhibited sex. We fucked almost continuously, in her case cumming over and over again and in my case three times, and in just about every position that we could reasonably get into. It was wild, abandoned, and bloody good. Obviously Sophie thought so too, because she arranged a second date on the spot, this time in the open air in some nature reserve woodland about fifteen miles away.

We arrived at the rendezvous almost together and immediately she walked off into the woods, beckoning me to follow. She knew exactly where she was headed, and about ten minutes later she turned off the path and through the trees until we came to a clearing about two hundred yards further into the woods. There she unrolled her blanket, lay it on canlı casino the ground and began to undress. I never did find out why she chose that spot, or even if it held any significance for her.

There was something very surreal about watching a beautiful woman taking off expensive business clothes, neatly folding them and laying them carefully to one side, before disporting herself totally naked on a blanket in the middle of a forest. I just stood and watched until she was lying with her legs wide, showing me a smoothly shaved pussy and gently playing with herself.

“C’mon Dermot. Don’t let me do everything on my own.”

Fat chance of that, I thought as I abruptly came to life and began rapidly stripping off my own clothing. It isn’t easy, fumbling with buttons while your eyes are being constantly drawn to the naked beauty waiting for you and to fingers that kept disappearing into a hot wet pussy, but eventually I made it and went to lie on top of her.

“No, Dermot, not yet.”

I wished she’d make up her mind, but I obediently stood and waited for her to tell me what she wanted.

“I want you to wank over me. I want to feel your cum splattering all over my body.”

The idea must have been a real turn on for her, because just vocalising it sent a shiver of anticipation through her and her fingers pumped in and out of her pussy a little more forcefully. For myself I thought it was a waste of cum, but who was I to argue?

She wriggled round a little and swung one leg around me so that I was standing between her knees and looking directly at her pussy. It was beautiful sight, her fingers were working hard and fast in her pussy and her hips were gyrating slowly, making a picture of absolute lust. She was very, very horny, so wet that I could even hear a soft squelching noise as her fingers went in and out of her tunnel, and her labia were visibly red and swollen. My hand went to my cock and I began wanking above her.

All the time I stood there playing her eyes were fixed on my cock, although occasionally her arousal made then roll back and close for a few seconds and even then they would shoot open again and keep watch for the first signs that I was going to cum. I found the whole thing just a little disturbing, I’d never been watched with such intensity, but even so it was incredibly erotic and it wasn’t long before I could feel my cum begin to build up in my balls ready for my climax.

“Are you going to cum soon?” She asked me when I started breathing heavily and stroking my cock more erratically.

I nodded my ‘yes’ with my eyes half closed and my tongue running around my lips, and she immediately switched playing to with her clit so as to leave her entrance uncovered and began pulling at her nipple with her other hand. Sophie had large soft breasts and she could pull them into incredible shapes by tugging on her nipples, and it never failed to turn me on even more. Now my pelvis began involuntary little thrusts and the fire began to flare at the base of my cock.

“Do it, Dermot, shoot it all over me. Try and get some on my face if you can. I really want to feel it landing on me.”

The moment I came, so did she, giving out loud gasps and groans as she shuddered in orgasm under the rain of spunk splashing down on her. My first burst landed across her breasts, covering one nipple and trickling between them, but my second was more powerful, landing mostly on her neck and chin but also spattering her face with creamy white drops. She groaned loudly, opening her mouth to catch more and rubbing frantically at her clit to get the most from her climax.

After a second powerful pulse that coated her lips and nose, my spurts of cum declined, landing closer and closer to me until the last one just dribbled onto the knuckles of the hand working at her clit. The result was that the entire length of her body, from forehead to crotch had been showered in spunk, with little globs and droplets all over her.

I stood for a minute or so on jelly legs before subsiding, lungs heaving and heart racing, onto the blanket beside her. She looked across at me and squeezed my hand, her own chest rising and falling rapidly under its load of cum.

“Thank you. Believe it or not that’s the first time I’ve ever watched a man cum. I’ve often felt it, but I’d never seen it.”

We lay there silently for a minute or two, Sophie on her back and me on my side gazing at the shiny wet results of my labours, and then she spoke again.

“Do you know, it does feel good to have your cum on my skin.” She smiled happily. “Now, just lie flat for a minute.”

I lay myself out flat, legs side by side and arms by the side of me and waited to see what she had in mind. I didn’t have to wait long. As soon as I was settled she rolled over and lay flat on top of me, carefully aligning her legs with mine and her body in full contact all the way along. Then she began sliding herself back and forth, using the slippery kaçak casino dollops of my cum as a lubricant and spreading it between us. She was giving out little unintelligible murmurs of pleasure as she slithered along my torso, and I can understand why, the feeling was like oiled skin, except that it wasn’t oil and that knowledge made it intensely erotic.

Then she kissed me and I could faintly taste my own cum as her tongue explored my mouth. It was such an incredibly uninhibited and sexy sensation that even though I had climaxed only minutes before I began to feel my cock stir between us. I think Sophie had noticed its revival too, because as soon the slipperiness began to turn to stickiness she wriggled her way right down my body until her head was level with my cock. Then she took my semi hard shaft between her fingers and guided it into her mouth, licking and sucking at it until it hardened once more, then as soon as it was stiff enough to stand by itself, she took the head deep into her mouth and started sliding her lips back and forwards along my shaft in the most gorgeous blow-job I’ve ever had.

After that we met quite frequently, though at varying intervals, and sometimes it would be in the woods, sometimes in a motel, and, when Luke was out of town, sometimes she would come to my place. But, with maybe a handful of exceptions, every meeting was an adventure, and I never knew what she would come up with next. She was the most imaginative and unconstrained woman I have ever met, a mass of contradictions and fantasies, and she had me fascinated with her almost to the point of obsession. It got to where there was almost nothing I wouldn’t do for her or to her — sexually, I mean — or allow her to do to me.

Sometimes my conscience would prick and I would ask about Luke, but she was always scathing about his bedroom abilities and it got so I didn’t like to ask anymore. It soon became clear to me that although she liked the man she didn’t really love him, and that she was with him for the just lifestyle he could offer her. She had worked it to get the best of both worlds. Luke provided the standard of living and the comfort, while I supplied the sex and gratification. Both he and I were being used. The only real difference, apart from him being her husband, was that he was kept in the dark while I knew just what was happening and selfishly didn’t care. But then, if I describe just two of my meetings with Sophie you’ll probably understand why.

Both took place at my house during one of Luke’s out of town jobs, and on both occasions Sophie turned up only a half hour or so after having rung me to arrange things. The first time it seemed that I had hardly put the ‘phone down and tidied away the ironing (Yes, single men have to do their own ironing, and it’s not the most romantic sight to greet your lover with.) before she was knocking on my door with a shopping bag swinging from her wrist.

I should have realised she had something new in mind the moment I saw the shopping bag, but it wasn’t until she dug into it and pulled out a pair of handcuffs that I began to worry. Within ten minutes I was stark naked and sitting on the bed with my hands behind my back and my wrists handcuffed to the bed-head, while Sophie was still fully dressed. I must admit I was a little nervous at that point, because with Sophie almost anything was possible.

But then she began to undress. She had dressed with the deliberate intention of stripping it all off again, right down to having a thong on under her knickers just to increase the tease. She put a cd on the stereo and started to move to and fro to soft slow jazz music, letting her long auburn hair sweep across her face as she moved. The movement was all in the hips, a beautiful languid swaying with her arms floating beside her, so very feminine and so very erotic.

She kept this up for the entire first track, but then the second track was a late night jazz saxophone, and it was to this music she began to strip. Once again her movements were slow and gentle and in time with the music, but there was now a definite sexiness to them, invoked perhaps by the sensuous sound of the saxophone, and they had my cock standing up and applauding – and that was even before she began unbuttoning her blouse.

The rest of the album was similar ‘midnight music’ recalling smoky clubs and sexy black musicians, and Sophie stripped gradually moving sinuously and sexily the whole time. By the time she was down to that final thong my cock was sporting a purple head as hard and as bulbous as it ever had been. God, how I wanted to fuck that woman.

Then, the moment she was totally naked she went and changed the album, replacing the slow jazz with slightly faster, slightly heavier music, again featuring the tenor sax, but now it wailed more raunchily over an insistent drum beat. I hadn’t heard this music before and I had no idea who the artists were, but right then I would willingly have awarded them a trophy for the sexiest sound ever recorded. Even if I’d been back to doing my ironing I think my cock would have been reaching for the sky by the time the first ten bars had played. Sophie clearly knew just what she was up to, and I was mesmerised.

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