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Message-ID: <59979asstr$1267441806@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Jonathan P <jonathanbareb@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "Cathy's Exception" (MF)
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Date: Mon, 01 Mar 2010 06:10:06 -0500
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   Cathy's Exception



   Cathy was a rarity among the women I'd gone to bed with - she was
single. For a married man, all things considered, a married woman as a
lover presents fewer problems.  You find one who wants to stay married, so
that makes her motivated to be equally discreet.  She's likely to be
selective in both the quantity and quality of men she's been to bed with.
And she understands that you can't see her on a regular basis.



   Cathy wasn't looking for a steady boyfriend.  She'd been married for
fifteen childless years, widowed for five.  She kept busy with her job, her
house, aloof cat and her inquisitive Airedale, and her eclectic interests
in New Age spirituality.  "I enjoy men," she'd told me during an online
chat.  "I enjoy occasional sex.  I'm not looking for a roommate."



   The first time we met face to face was for breakfast at a restaurant
near her work.  Cathy was tall, a mere two inches shorter than me, with a
body typical of a woman in her early forties - moderate sized breasts,
womanly hips, sporting a few extra pounds.  She had pale blue eyes and thin
lips that were quick to smile.  Her thin blonde hair barely reached her
broad shoulders.  We hit it off.



   A few weeks later she invited me to her house.  A few seconds after the
front door closed behind me, Cathy was pressed against me and we were
locked in a long, wet kiss.  We moved to a nearby couch, soon shifting from
being half-reclined to her lying on her back and me on top.  Active mouths,
busy hands, full body contact - my erection announced its presence to her,
and Cathy's body temperature and hot breaths announced that she was equally
turned on.



   "Let's go upstairs," she suggested, and I followed her to her bedroom,
standing at the foot of her bed - a waterbed, as it turned out -
impatiently undressing each other.  It was past time for the obligatory
conversation.  Her fist gripped my shaft, encouraging it even stiffer.  My
hands were on her boobs.  They were nice handfuls, tipped with big, hard
brown nipples.  She pulled me toward the bed.



   We got horizontal, my furry chest against her smooth breasts, my
erection denting her soft lower belly, hands caressing, mouths nuzzling. 
Cathy murmured between kisses, "I always use condoms." Uh oh.  "To be
safe." Her thumb was smearing my precum around my cockhead.  "Is that okay?
I have some." It didn't seem like the right time to debate it.



   It was the usual getting-to-know-you first time.  Mouths and tongues,
hands and fingers exploring the newness, breathy gasps of pleasures both
received and given.  My tongue brought her to a vocal, shuddering orgasm
that smeared my face with her musky juices, and her mouth made slow love to
my erection as it seeped my readiness.



   "Shall we?" Cathy asked me, looking upward, her thumb and forefinger
encircling the base of my throbbing cock.  Yes, I replied.



   Cathy squirmed to the edge of the bed and retrieved a condom from the
bedside table.  My quick glance saw a white vibrator and a bottle of KY. 
She smiled at me, then focused on opening the packet and rolling the condom
down my shaft.  "There!" She moved on top of me, straddling my hips,
sitting half upright and positioning herself until my cock lay lengthwise
in her cleft.  I felt her internal heat and her slickness that she smeared
on my latex-covered penis.  And then I was inside her, our eyes glued to
each other, my cock embedded in her warm, gentle grasp.



   Cathy's weight pressed her pubis against me, driving my ass into the
waterbed, and she rocked in a steady rhythm as I held her breasts and
played with her nipples and arched my own hips to keep my stiff cock held
high and buried.  Cathy's g-spot signaled her orgasm, and she sat more
upright to scrub it against my erection.  Her eyes closed, her breathing
accelerated, and she released a series of loud, guttural grunts, quickly
triggering my own orgasm and my spurting jets into that frustrating latex.



   My second visit was a few weeks later.  This time we skipped the
preliminaries on the living room couch and headed straight to her bedroom.
Our lovemaking was less frantic than before, our bodies and our rhythms
just a fragment more familiar.  My mouth was more patient, too.  I savored
her pussy.  Her scent invaded my head, my tongue lapped her widening split,
greeting each labia individually and slathering her little button at the
top.  When my fingers joined the fun, Cathy's squirms and vocalizations
guided me to her puckered anus.  A wet forefinger dipped inside to a
moaning welcome, and that seemed to trigger her orgasm, complete with
clenches around my invading digit.



   When I mounted her and nuzzled her neck and plowed my cockhead up and
down her furrow with a slippery tease, when Cathy murmured "Let me get a
condom," I continued to glide against her clit.  I have a vasectomy, I told
her.  Her blue eyes studied my face.  "Really?" Yes, really.  "And you're
healthy?" Yes, really.  Her knees raised up.  I could see she was
considering it.  "Okay," she finally decided.  "Okay."



   And in I went.  I sunk into her vagina, bare skin against bare skin, my
sensitive flesh surrounded by silky slickness and smooth walls that felt
alive.  My hips found a steady rhythm.  In, out, in, out, with little
side-to-side or circular rooting motions mixed in for variety.  Cathy's
face was flushed.  Her eyes glistened.  Her mouth stayed open in an `O'
with breathy pants.  "Do you come a lot?" she asked me.  Yes, I replied, I
think I do.  She was going to find out soon.  "I haven't had come inside me
for years."



   Her words, I'm afraid, didn't do much to help my self control.  My cock
hardened another notch, my thrusts increased in pace and strength, and I
tried to get us both to the finish line together.  "That's it," she
gasped-grunted-moaned, "Like that," and I just kept going, with tiny
increments of faster and harder and deeper, and Cathy's slippery little
embrace kept getting warmer and wetter.



   I couldn't hold back any longer.  Gonna come, I grunted, and my hips
went into that final charge over the brink.  Cathy's knees raised another
notch and she hooked her ankles behind my lower back, and her hips rocked
upward to meet my downward, full-force thrusts.  And then I was there,
jammed inside her as deep as I could manage, my body paralyzed in that
never-never-land of pure, explosive pleasure.



   Cathy's hips kept rocking, her rapid breaths turned into pants, and then
I began to spurt.  Cathy's kegels gripped around the base of my cock, and
then she climaxed an instant after my second long pulse shot another rope
up inside her.  Her eyes closed, her face reddened, and she was lost in her
orgasm.  By my third pulse my hips got unstuck and I could restart my
thrusts, my cock still spurting, her cunnie now feeling very liquid.



   "Oh my God," she whispered when she found her voice and my spurts faded.
"I felt you come." We slowly rocked against each other.  "I am _so_ wet."
When I softened and slipped out, Cathy reached a hand down to check things
out.  "Yep," she announced, "I'm overflowing." I glanced down.  Yes indeed,
she was leaking white.  She was oozing my juices.



   That afternoon we had time for a second round.  Cathy's mouth got me
hard, then she got on top, impaling her juicy snatch on my shaft.  Her
grinding pressure and undulating hips and breathy moans kept me hard and
drove herself up the ladder.  Her climax was the usual thing of beauty,
complete with an arched back and a face frozen in an agony of pleasure
released.



   When she floated back to earth, her eyes refocused on my face.  "Did you
come?" she asked.  Not yet, I told her.  Cathy wrinkled her nose.  "Come
for me," she demanded.  Not yet, I replied.  Lie on your tummy.  Cathy
smiled and dismounted, settling beside me on the bed.  I straddled her
hips, she spread her legs, and I guided my cock into her pussy again.



   Alas, the waterbed wasn't ideal for this position.  My knees sunk into
the bed, making it impossible to stay deep inside her.  Roll over, I told
her, and once again I was inside her with the trusty, all-in Missionary,
and once again I found that rhythm of full-length thrusts that buried my
erection inside that sweet wet velvet.  Cathy's legs sprawled open and her
hips cocked upward, and my thrusts bottomed out, again and again, my
erection stirring up those slurpy noises of our mixed juices and the
ricocheting sloshing of her bed beneath us.



   "Come for me," she breathed.  "Come in me." My erection stiffened.  Feel
that?  "Yes, do it, yes." I felt another gush of her slickness.  It was
time.  Feel me come, I told her, feel what you do to me, and then I
surrendered to the sensations, surrendered to my primal desire to splash
more manhood into her intimate welcome.  I groaned, I strained against the
all-too-yielding waterbed to stuff my cock as deep as I could get.  "Let it
go," she demanded, and I did.  Spurt after long spurt, each met with
Cathy's "I feel it" that only kept it going even longer.



   Afterwards we lay on our backs, heartrates retreating, skin moist and
flushed.  "You make a mess out of me," she scolded with a pretend
irritation.  I'm sorry, I replied.  "You should be.  I'll need to change my
sheets." It's your wet spot, too.  Cathy pretended irritation, and I
pretended defensiveness.  "You leave me overflowing." She giggled.  "I hope
you're right about that vasectomy."



   We got together like that every few months for a couple of years.  Cathy
confessed to me that her occasional other lovers were generally younger,
fertile, and were required to use condoms.  I was her bareback exception.
With me she permitted herself the freedom to feel me ejaculate, to feel the
surge of liquid heat that accompanied my climactic pulses, to forsake the
sterility of a latex barrier for the profound lusty pleasure of being
filled to overflowing and afterwards leaking out as an intimate reminder.
"With you I feel fucked," she told me one afternoon, right before she
pulled me on top of her and my cock glided effortlessly into her wetness.



   Jonathan P (Jonathanbareb@hotmail.com)

   _________________________________________________________________
Hotmail: Trusted email with Microsoft's powerful SPAM protection.
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