CHAPTER 2: LIFE SHIFT

What does it say that I wasn’t feeling guilty? Okay, that’s not quite accurate. Saturday morning I rose earlier than Stan, a common occurrence, and nervously sat at the kitchen table with coffee and an English muffin. Stan finally came into the kitchen still half asleep.

“You were out late last night,” he commented as he took a mug from the cabinet and filled it. As he sat down and reached for the morning paper, he added, “You must have had a good time.” He scanned the front page before flipping a couple sections back to the Financial section. “I’m glad. You deserve it.” With that amount of curiosity, he was deep into the financial news of the day.

I thought, ‘I do deserve some good times, damn it.’ But this was what our life had come to. Stan was a Senior Account Manager in a large corporation covering all of North America. He worked long hours when he was home in the office but traveled frequently, many times for full weeks or even two weeks if it meant taking advantage of minimizing excess travel by staying in a region over the weekend. I was never sure if that was a company thing or something Stan chose to do to show his commitment. There was no doubt he was on the way up and he was already bringing in a good salary but his work and travel left little opportunity for us to take advantage of the income. I continued to work not because we needed the income but to give me something to keep me busy.

Stan had gone to bed early and apparently hadn’t worried about how late I was. ‘I deserved to have a good time’. Damn, I thought, but wasn’t that a good time!

Stan was leaving for a business trip, again. Sunday afternoon. He said something about not being able to get connections to arrive in time for his early Monday meeting in Vancouver. I stood at the front door as he pulled his suitcase down the sidewalk to his car he had washed and detailed earlier in the day (it was just going to sit in an airport garage, for crying out loud). He stopped.

“I won’t be back until Saturday,” he announced with a resigned sigh. “Late last meeting and bad connections. Sorry.” He turned and stopped, again. “Why don’t you have fun this Friday. Whatever it was you did last time that you seemed to enjoy so much, do it again.” Then, he was gone. I stood there stunned. He probably thought I was waiting to see him off. I know what he would have meant. It wasn’t what I heard, though.

“Did he just give me permission,” I mumbled to myself? A huge smile grew over my face. “I could sure take it that way.”

I had planned on a soothing bath to get ready for the workweek. I made it better with a glass of wine, candles, and soothing music. With the wine glass emptied and the hot water definitely soothing me, my fingers found their way between my legs. It hadn’t been part of my plan but it felt very good. With one hand between my legs stroking my pussy, the other was fondling a breast and nipple. My mind wandered as I enjoyed the feelings. My mind wandered to Jerome. His wonderful, hard, thick, long, and black penis. Then, what else he did to my pussy. His mouth and tongue and lips. God, how wonderful that had been.

I stroked my pussy and felt the pussy hair there. Oral sex wasn’t a part of sex with Stan. I wondered about Jerome and how easily he gave it to me. I felt the hair. I wondered… would oral sex be better, more enjoyable without the hair? I’m not sure I consciously made a decision. I had shaved my legs and pits so the razor was right there. I trimmed the hair and shaved it before I really thought too much. The only thought came when I did make the decision to leave trimmed hair above. Wickedly, I considered that Stan might not be wiser if that was left. It wasn’t like he went down there, anyway.

That next week I puzzled over what I was doing shaving my pussy. Did I really think Jerome and I would somehow find each other, again? We didn’t even know each other’s full names much less contact information. Nonetheless, I shaved it every other day. But it was more than that. I masturbated to the thoughts of that night twice during the week. So, late Thursday afternoon when one of the girls stopped at my cubicle to ask if I’d be interested in going out Friday night, I asked where. They were planning to go to one of their old favorites which was not the club. No, I begged off, I’d just take care of myself. The implication being that I was staying home. I knew better right then.

“What are you doing here?” The voice behind me as I moved through the crowded club stopped me. The strong hands that then held my shoulders sent a shiver through me.

I turned, his hands moving with me, ending with them still on my shoulders as I faced him. The music was loud, people milling and talking around us, but I only saw him… Jerome, all 6′ 2″, 200 pounds of the strong, confident, exciting black man. “This is probably going to sound desperate, but… I… was hoping to see you.”

He smiled, took my arm, and led me to a booth on the side of the dance floor with a reserved sign on it. It was the same booth as last week. “Me, too.”

I almost collapsed into the booth. He was hoping to see me, too? I had felt like a silly, desperate, married woman seeking something lost in my life. Maybe I was but he felt something, too. All I knew was I wanted to see him, again. All I focused on was that he wanted to see me, again.

It Bakırköy travesti was about 8:00 when I entered the club. He complimented me on how I was dressed. I wore a shorter, tighter skirt and a semi-sheer white blouse. I didn’t leave from work but changed at home, fortifying myself with a glass of wine in the process. The blouse was unbuttoned to the point of exposing my bra. The bra was a sexy one I had for special and provided a lot of cleavage and less support. He seemed to enjoy the sight of my breasts moving more freely based on the number of times I caught him looking.

During a slow dance, his hands slid down my back to my ass. I felt him inch the hem of my skirt higher as he pulled my hips into his. I buried my face into his shoulder as the feelings rose within me: The feel of his body against me; the exhibition feel of more leg being exposed to others around us as my skirt bunched below my ass. I was breathing ragged when he raised my face to him and kissed me on the lips on the dance floor. I moaned into his mouth. His hand moved from my ass up my side to partially hold my breast. I groaned into his mouth and shivered.

“If we leave now, we’ll have more time.”

I nodded as I looked into his eyes. Yes, I wanted to. I pressed my hips into him and felt him. Yes, I wanted that. I desperately wanted that.

It started as a repeat of last week. He took my hand and hurried us out of the club into the parking lot. I recognized his flashy sports car as we approached. Instead of being pressed up against the low top, though, he lifted me onto the hood, parted my legs, and stepped between them. We kissed and he pulled me forward to press into his hips and penis. The action forced my skirt higher until I could feel the cooler metal of the hood on my pantyhose-covered thighs and butt. His hands found my legs as we kissed and he moved them up to my thighs, pushing the skirt even higher. I could feel the night air to the top of my thighs through the thin pantyhose material. It sent my excitement and need spiking higher. I had never been exposed like this in public. What if someone came out? What if someone saw me like this? I didn’t care. New experiences. That was what he said he could give me. I wanted more.

“I want to fuck you,” he calmly said with our lips touching.

“OH GOD, YES,” I gasped back. “Yes… please… I want to feel you inside me, again. God,” I gasped, “I want that feeling again.”

He stepped back with me sitting on his car with legs apart and skirt pushed to my hips. “Damn… you are a sexy woman, Trish.”

He led me to the same hotel, this time on the second floor. When the door closed, I started unbuttoning my blouse but he stopped me. With my blouse unbuttoned to the waist of my skirt, my lacy bra exposed, his next words sent a shiver down my spine.’

“Undress me.”

Simple two words. He was asking for more, this time. He had done so much last time and I had been the recipient. Was he testing me? He knew I wasn’t experienced. Maybe this was how he leads me to more experiences.

My hands shook as I moved them to the buttons on his shirt. I managed to undo them despite the shaking, then pulled the tails out and completed the remaining couple of buttons. I slid the shirt over his powerful shoulders and off his arms. The shirt dropped to the floor as my hands slid up his arms, over his defined biceps and triceps, over his shoulders, and down onto his muscled chest. I closed the gap between us simply by leaning forward to kiss his chest, his entire chest. I kissed and sucked his nipples. I didn’t know why. It just felt right.

I looked up and he was watching me. I moved my hands to his belt, then the clasp on his pants, and the zipper. I sucked in a breath and reached inside and felt his penis under his boxers. There… there it is.

I shook my head slightly to snap out of it. There was more to do. I knelt down in front of him to assist him out of his shoes and socks. I discarded them to the side. My hands rose to his pant covered thighs and I looked up the height of his black, muscled body. He was watching. Patiently. Letting me do it.

My hands rose to the waist of his pants. I sucked in a breath and tugged them over his hips and they fell to his feet with slight help. I helped him step out of them. I looked directly ahead, directly in front of me was his crotch still in his boxers. I ran my hands over the front and felt the firmness, the size of it under my touch. My fingers tugged the boxers down and his penis, his wonderful big black penis was inches from my face. It seemed to throb in front of me. I looked up, again.

“I… I’ve never… I don’t… know what to do.”

“You’ve never loved a cock?”

Cock. What a new world. Cock. I shyly, embarrassed, shook my head. “No. What do I do? Tell me… what do I do? I want to please you as you please me.”

His finger stroked my cheek. “Just explore. Touch it with your fingers, your lips, your tongue, your mouth. Find out how it feels with all of them. The head. The shaft. The balls. Explore. Make love to them and listen to what I respond to.” His finger tilted my head up toward him. “Then you can use your cunt.”

Cunt. Cock. Cunt. God, my pussy… my cunt?… is flowing with juice!

I moved my face to his penis/cock. I kissed the shaft in front of me. I lifted it and kissed around it Bakırköy travestiileri and up the length of it to the head. I kissed the head, then brought my tongue out to lick it. I smiled. Not bad. I licked down and around and up. I took the head between my lips and gave a tentative suck. Some pre-cum came out. Hmmm… more. I pushed my mouth over the head and several inches further, sucking and twirling my tongue inside my mouth. I heard him sigh and give a soft moan. I smiled with a mouthful of cock. His cock. Yes… he calls it cock so it’s cock.

I released the head from my mouth and mouthed his cock down until I came to the base. I paused. He said his balls. What do I do with them? Explore… licking the sack and feeling the balls inside, my fingers working over them as my mouth licked and my lips took them. This is all strange but his sounds are encouraging me.

I take his cock in my mouth, again. This time there is more urgency, more need, and desire in my efforts. I push my mouth over it until the head hits my throat and I gag. I pull back and look up, saliva escaping from the corners of my mouth. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. He pulls me up and kisses me.

“You did good for the first time. You just need practice. You’ll be a lot better soon.”

I look at him dazed. I sucked my first cock. Cock. The sound of it even in my head sends a shiver down me. Now he’s talking about practice and getting better soon. He wants more, too.

He looks down between us and I follow his gaze. My hands are continuing to pump his hard cock up and down. In case I missed the significance before, both of my hands don’t cover his cock.

He helped me strip, then, “You know what I want?” I shook my head. I was naked and again stroking his cock. “I want you to fuck me for our first fuck. I want you on top doing it all. I want to see your tits bouncing and swaying as your cunt bounces over my cock.”

I pushed him to the edge of the bed and he climbed into the center on his back. I crawled onto the bed after him, approaching him like a cat fixed on devouring her prey. My eyes fixed solely on his hard black cock lying on his black, muscled body. I had just used my mouth to devour that massive thing, having to stretch my mouth open to get it inside. Now… now I was going to use my pussy.

Before I crawled over his midsection, I paused to lick the length of it and take the bulbous head back into my mouth. I moaned as I felt it harden more in my mouth. I moved over him, grasped it, and raised it. I moved it and myself to position it at the opening to my pussy. I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath before pushing back, feeling the head spread my lips and begin opening my hole. I pressed back more and groaned as it stretched me open more for the head to pass inside. My eyes opened then and I looked down at him with lust-hazed eyes.

His hands came up to my breasts as I started moving slowly up and down over his pole taking him deeper and deeper inside me. He pinched my nipples and I looked down at him.

“Make me cum. You’re in control of my cock. Use your cunt to make me cum and flood your cunt.”

His words were like a trigger, a switch that ramped up my arousal instantly. I raised up so only the head remained inside and slammed down so that head slammed into me, glancing off my cervix and somehow going deeper. I heard him grunt and groan. His fingers slid between my legs and my downward thrust jammed my clit against them. I cried out as pussy, clit, and nipples were simultaneously stimulated. I cried out when my body began shaking and my breath stopped as an orgasm overtook me. I leaned forward onto his chest as the orgasm crashed over me.

“I… I… I’m… sorry… I…” I stammered out between gasps and panting. But my hips continued somehow to slide up and down over his cock and his arms held me around the shoulders as I came and while my hips continued to move.

“Never… OH GOD… that feels so good… never apologize for an orgasm… just… just be sure you… satisfy whoever you are… fucking.”

Oh God… whoever I am fucking. Like I’m going to be some kind of slut… it caused another spike in my orgasm. I pushed myself up and increased my movements. I shifted to grinding my pussy on him, then moving in small circles, then fucking him up and down. I felt my pussy spasm around him and began intentionally squeezing the muscles around him as I rose and dropped.

I heard deep sounds and didn’t immediately recognize them for what they were until he was pulling me down to his chest and his hips were rising to meet my thrusts. He slammed into me and held me tight as I felt his cock swell and pulse as his seed flooded into me in great streams.

I lay on his chest, still breathing heavily, my pussy still twitching with orgasmic aftershocks. I kissed the flesh at my mouth. “Jerome… my God… you consume me.” I squeezed my pussy around his penis still deep inside me even though I can feel it softening some. I turn my head with my chin in his chest. His arm is behind his head so he can look at me, too. I continue to squeeze. I want to feel him inside me more and more and I work up the courage to tell him. “I… this is going to sound awful… I love fucking you. I love the feel of your penis… it’s so… consuming.”

He smiled with a soft chuckle. “We’re fucking, travesti Bakırköy Trish. There are different words for what we are doing. You can’t be an innocent little housewife when you leave your husband at home to fuck me. Cunt, fuck, tit, cock… those are the words.”

“Cunt, fuck, tit, cock.” I repeated them several times for him.

He studied me for a moment. Then, “What would your husband think of hearing you say those words?”

“He’d be shocked.”

“What about the Trish who comes to find me?”

“She… I’m excited by them. I’m excited by the thought of you, your black cock, what it and you do to me.” He rolled us over and held his body above mine to slide his cock in and out. Though somewhat softened, it was still a long, firm shaft that immediately stimulated me and began firming inside me. I gasped out, “How… can you… do it… so soon?”

He didn’t respond, he only curled his arms under my knees and pressed them up and against me as he plowed firmly and deeply into me. I groaned and moaned, a smile covering my face as he began consuming me all over again.

Minutes later, “I love your bouncing tits. They’re almost obscene. I love obscene, Trish. I love a woman who can let herself go and let her desires take over. Can you be that, Trish?”

He was fucking me hard and fierce the whole time he talked, his voice seeming affected only by the exertion. “Jerome… I need you to fuck me. I need your big cock inside me. I need to feel you cum inside me. I need it all… everything… anything… you can… will do… want to do… to me.”

He smiled a smile that said many things and many things he held to himself. I didn’t care what he was thinking. I only cared about his pole thrusting into me and driving me crazy all over again. Another orgasm crashed over me. I cried out louder as he pounded into me. I begged him to cum. I apologized, again. He only continued to pound me.

After what seemed like forever and I was again approaching another orgasm, he thrust deeper somehow and spewed his cum into my grasping cunt. Ohhhhh… I love that word. Cunt. My cunt filled with the seed of his cock. OH… FUCK, YES!!

I was lying on my side alongside him. My tit was pressed into his side and my fingers idly, lazily caressing his softened cock. I regularly kissed some part of him as we talked about nothing special but he was pulling my life story from me without difficulty.

“What are you thinking,” he asked me as my fingers lifted his balls and traced up his flaccid cock that was still twice the size of any other I had ever seen hard.

I blushed but he insisted, reminding me to be open about my desires. “I’m thinking about this wonderful cock of yours… and how you used it, of course.” I blushed deeper. “Do you think I’m awful for being here and wanting this?”

He chuckled, “How could I think you’re awful? Yes, you’re a married woman going behind the back of her husband, but he is obviously not able to satisfy you. The real question is, what does all this mean? Where is this going?”

I didn’t know. I never allowed myself to think beyond getting fucked by him, again. I moved down his body and slipped my mouth over his cock head and into my mouth. I tasted our combined juices on it and moaned with satisfaction and approval. As I sucked his cock, felt it stirring to life in my mouth, I knew I was ignoring his question and I knew he recognized that, too. It wasn’t a question I could answer at the moment, though. So, I sucked his cock. I hadn’t sucked a cock before. Now I was initiating it.

We fucked again before I felt I had to leave. His question stayed with me. What does all this mean and where did I think it is going? I had no idea. I understood the question. I understood the reason for the question. I was a married woman. How does he invest himself in a married woman?

He gave me his cell phone number saying he would like to see me, again. His question weighed on me. He wants to see me but being a married woman left an impact, too. That didn’t stop me from contacting him, though. Over the next weeks, we met at the club every Friday. Stan, when he was home, didn’t flinch or question my going out. I supposed he made the assumption I was with the girls from work. He never really asked either. Each time I called Jerome to see if we could meet, I sensed something coming back to me through the phone waves bouncing from tower to tower. He was always happy to see me and the experiences he showed me each time increased not only my sexual awakening but awareness of a change happening within me. It wasn’t just that Jerome gave me orgasms that challenged my sanity. He gave me orgasms. Period. He devoted time to my pleasure and taught me how to please a man. Stan… it had been maybe a year since Stan had done anything. And, that was when we both drank too much and I took the initiative. I had drifted without a rudder, drifted without knowing where I was going or what was happening. Jerome gave me a direction and taught me how to have some control over where I was going. But… only on Friday nights, it seemed. The rest of the time I was drifting… and thinking… thinking about big cock. Thinking about Jerome’s cock… Jerome’s cock in my cunt. In weeks, he has changed my words, my thinking, my perspective. Fucking. Cunt. Cock. Tit. There was another word that crept up frequently, too. Cheating. There were moments when that word, cheating, stung me. Then, I thought about Jerome’s cock, remembered how Jerome’s cock felt… in my hands… on my tongue… on my lips… in my mouth… ohhhh yessss, and in my cunt. Cheating didn’t sting so much. Big cock, his big cock was consuming my thinking.