Freshly Fucked and Fisted

"I'm great! Fantastic. Freshly fucked and fisted." That was my reply to Seattle Guy when he asked, via text, how I was after my time with JJ.

I got to the hotel first and acquired the room with Strange Hotel Guy's wife and paying with the $100 bill  I weaseled our of Hubby the night before.

When I got to the room, I was glad I got there a little earlier than JJ because it gave me time to clean up a bit and relax. I had just come from a pretty intense work meeting and I needed a few minutes to unwind. I took off my panties and starting playing with my clit, not in a focused way, but almost absentmindedly, as if to make sure my body was fully alert and ready for his arrival.

I got a text saying he was close. Then another saying he was just stopped and got a speeding ticket. Ugghh! My first thought was about how he could explain to his wife how he got a speeding ticket nowhere near where he was supposed to be today. This is one of those "cheater's nightmares," right up there with being seen with your lover by one of your spouse's friends at a restaurant. Someone in my town was having lunch with his mistress at a local restaurant and his photo appeared on the front page of the local paper. No, he wasn't the subject of the photo; the restaurant owner was.  But it didn't matter because the whole town saw him in the background of the picture kissing a woman who was not his wife. Ouch.

My mom used to say, "Never do anything that you wouldn't want to be posted on the front page of the paper." Generally speaking, that's very good advice. I'm sure that guy wished he had taken it. As for me, it makes me giggle to think of seeing a picture of myself giving someone head or a picture of me being fucked from behind on the front page of the paper....until I think of how it would hurt my family. Then it's not so funny anymore.

But I digress.....again....

Of course, by the time JJ showed up, he already had a plan for what he would tell his wife and it was a perfectly plausible explanation. He's a smart man. And you know how I love smart men.

JJ climbed into bed and kissed me, and the next thing I knew he was fucking me from behind, nice and hard like he does. I know there was some kissing and petting before that, but I had been waiting a long time and I was ready. Very ready. Sex at home had started becoming less frequent (again) so I had a pretty pointed physical urge burning along with the emotional one making me want to connect with JJ again. Feeling him inside me again felt like water quenching a hot, dry thirst. The way my body responded to him is indescribable.

For some reason, this reminded me of the movie Sommersby. In the movie, Richard Gere's character is being tried for murder and Jodie Foster's character is trying to convince the judge that he is not really her husband and, therefore, not the person who committed the murder for which he was on trial. One of the things she says is, "A woman knows her own husband," referring to how a woman gets to know her own husband in the personal and private way and how she would know if another man in her bed was not her husband.

I agree completely. I've been with a few men in my life (ok, ok, stop laughing guys....I use the word "few" very liberally) and I can tell you in absolute certainty that each and every one is different. Even if a guy were trying to mimic another man in bed, I don't think it can be done, at least not if the woman is paying any attention at all.

So, yes, JJ is unique, but he's not just different. He's amazing. Maybe it's the way we fit together. Maybe it's the emotion that makes it all better. Maybe it's a year and a half of getting to know each other very well.

Back to the story....

I loved the way he pulled me back onto him as he came, digging his fingers into my hips. After, he collapsed next to me and he just lay there talking. I noticed that he had pulled off his shirt and was now naked. My dress was hiked up around my waist. Sometimes, taking off clothes just slows things down too much. Don't you agree?

JJ and didn't talk much between our "meetings" so this was the time to catch up with what was going on with each of us and our families.

Eventually, his hand wandered down between my legs and starting rubbing me. I was distracted. I couldn't speak anymore. Neither of us was rushed anymore. His hand moved slowly, deliberately. We kissed deeply as he slid a finger inside me, then another. Then I got too distracted to kiss, too. I was completely focused on the sensations "down there."

He shifted a bit in the bed and continued to work me with his fingers and his hand for I don't know how long. From my end, it felt like slow, steady waves of pleasure - not like the hard, jolting orgasm that I'd just had a little while before. This was that kind of orgasm where it started, and then the pleasure kept building and building, but not going over the edge. I was stretched and stroked and teased. I started to wonder if this was the longest orgasm I'd ever had, but he kept pulling my focus back to him and the pleasure that he was both giving and forcing on me. It was one of those moments where I would have done just about anything he wanted. It's hard to describe to someone who has never experienced being so physically and mentally possessed by someone. And if you have experienced it, you know it can't be adequately described.

As I write this, I remember someone asking me why I was still with JJ when he doesn't communicate as much in between meetings as I'd like. I didn't have a great answer. Intellectually, I  had asked myself the same question more than a few times. But this moment is why. Well, it's one of the reasons. There are plenty of men I could fuck, but I couldn't replace that moment, that feeling, that emotion. I couldn't replace him. And so far in my life, no one else has been able to give me an experience like this one.

Anyway....back to the story...again....

When my orgasm finally flowed over the edge and shook the last bit of energy out of me, I reached down and felt for him. Just as I expected, his whole fist was inside me and I was holding his wrist. I smiled.

He asked, "Do you wanna see?"

"Yes!" I answered. The last time we were together, I asked him to take some photos of me from behind as I was on all fours. I had never seen my pussy from that angle and I wanted to see what he saw. It was kind of fun.

He reached over and grabbed his phone so he could take a picture, which he did expertly with only one hand. He didn't have to tell me not to move because it's not easy to move when a man like JJ with big hands has his fist up inside you. He showed me the picture. I loved it!

I lay back and he s-l-o-w-l-y pulled his hand out. It seemed to take a long time. I held my breath. It's official. The "coming out" phase of fisting is not nearly as much fun as the "going in" phase. It's not bad, mind you, but it just feels weird. Let me put it this way - if a woman feels a big lumpy thing coming out of that space, it's supposed to be an infant and thinking of babies and fisting pleasure at the same time is just...wrong. It's conflicting. I hate the thoughts. Something had better distract me quickly....

Then he slid a finger down and around my asshole....then inside (perfect distraction, thank god). I could tell he was gently stretching me, preparing me for his favorite thing to do in bed.

To be continued.....