27/10/2015
Although everybody that reads this stuff will probably think, ‘yeah, right!’ this really is a true story.
I’m an executive for our local council, forty five years old, and married to a disabled guy who I love dearly. We’ve been married for thirty years, but the last fifteen years have been totally without sex, as my husbands injuries don’t allow it.
We live in a big house surrounded by open countryside in rural England, and no, I’m not going to tell you exactly where, which is really too big for just the two of us as all the kids are long gone.
My job involves me in a considerable amount of hiring and firing, and seconding skills from the business sector for particular projects. That’s how I came to meet Graham. He was a successful project manager from ‘somewhere up north’, and I approached him with an offer of a three year contract with us for a ludicrous amount of money, the sort of money that nobody would turn down. He didn’t, and duly arrived in my office one Monday morning about a year ago.
The first problem with seconding somebody from a different part of the country is accommodation. With house prices the way they are, the usual route is to rent a flat for them, but government cut backs have removed that option. I suggested that Graham could possibly move in with us as we had so much room and he could be more or less self-contained. Graham, however, had other ideas. He had arrived in a large camper type van which he had, in the past, used as a site office and temporary home whilst working on site on various other projects, and was quite happy to use that. He did, however, agree to park the van on our land to avoid the possibility of damage or vandalism while he was at work.
This was the situation that we settled in to. Graham would frequently eat out, god knows he could afford it on the money my council were paying him, but sometimes he would join us for meals at my husbands suggestion. It was on one of these occasions that we ended up discussing our relationship.
We had all been drinking, probably too much I suspect, and the conversation turned to life on the road and all its advantages and inconveniences. Graham, it turned out, was single, divorced, his wife couldn’t handle him being away from home for ten months of the year, and a workaholic. The last bit he explained was because it was impossible to form a lasting relationship not knowing how long you were going to be around!
There had been plenty of sex, though!
My husband then got into our relationship. He explained that ‘nothing physical’ had happened since his accident and that he was sorry for me having to go without.
Well! If that wasn’t an open invitation, I don’t know what is!
What followed was an embarrassing period of me, smiling gently and ignoring the conversation, Graham, drinking the last of his glass of wine and not wishing to appear to be rushing to leave, and my husband blithely unaware of any embarrassment being caused by his comments. I suppose this just goes to prove that mixing alcohol and medication is never a good idea!
As the weeks passed, Graham and I became friends. We would share the car to go to work, share the driving if we had to go to a site meeting together, and frequently share a table in a restaurant on the way back from business meetings away. I always told my husband what I was doing, and if we weren’t going to get back in time for dinner, he’d happily cook for himself.
About six months ago, we, Graham and I, had to stay in a hotel overnight, due to a cock up by the site manager that we were working with. We dined in the hotel restaurant, had a few, well, more than a few, drinks at the bar, and got into a conversation which rapidly degenerated into a ‘lads night out’ sort of chat.
Graham was waxing lyrical about some of the other women in the office, “…but, I really fancy that Charlotte, she looks like she could suck a golf ball through a garden hose!”
I was shocked! I’d never heard that expression before, and it certainly made me look at my assistant in a totally different light!
“… but,” Graham continued, “If I had to choose any woman from your office, I’d choose you!” As he said it he moved slowly forward and kissed me.
WHAT!!!!
What the hell just happened?
Suddenly, Graham was profoundly embarrassed. So was! He became suddenly interested in the hotel’s architecture, I found a sudden fascination with the view from the hotel window, which was mind numbingly boring as it was completely dark outside. We sat in awkward silence for about ten minutes, until Graham, snapping out of his architectural reverie, said,
“Er, well, sorry about that, but I needed to say that.”
Flustered, which was a state I rarely found myself in, I replied, “Well, I never saw that coming!”
“Oh, come on, you must have had an idea, after all we’ve been living in each other’s pocket for months.”
I realised he was right. I’d never looked at Graham in any other way than a work colleague, or had I? He was fortyish, well featured in a rugged outdoor way and supremely fit, as befits a guy who’d spent most of his working life on building sites and the like. He’d just opened my eyes to the fact that I did, indeed, find him attractive.
But, what about my husband?
We’d often had the predictable conversation. He would always tell me that, should I desire, if I got the craving for sex, just make sure that the guy is clean and discreet, after all, it was ‘only’ sex, and wouldn’t change the way we felt about each other, would it?
God, I hope not, as I’m pretty close to falling into bed with Graham!
We had another drink and started discussing the day’s events. This lasted for about half an hour until Graham said, “OK, what do we do now?”
“Meaning?” Christ, I knew what he meant!
“Meaning, do I pack my van and leave, having embarrassed myself out of a job, or are you going to sack me for professional misconduct, or are we going to sleep together?”
Wow, OK, straightforward and to the point.
“well, we’re on expenses, so buy me another drink”
“OK”
Another brief period of embarrassed silence instigated by me this time, not Graham.
I finished my drink and got up to leave. I walked away from the bar, my head in turmoil, saying nothing. Graham remained silent. As I got to the door, I looked back and gave Graham a look that explained everything. He bought another drink and settled back to enjoy it on his own.
Fifteen minutes later, my door opened and in came Graham. I was sitting on my bed working on my laptop, updating my notes for the day. Graham took my computer, placed it on the dressing table and, pulling me to my feet, kissed me again. A long, lingering kiss, which I returned. Then, he stepped back a little and walked slowly round me making admiring comments.
“God, you’re beautiful, you’ve really looked after yourself.” He unbuttoned my blouse and let it fall to the floor, “fantastic breasts,” as he removed my bra. I’m just standing there, a little confused, but loving every minute of it! I’m used to being in command, but right now, I’m just letting events happen!
Graham unzipped my black business skirt and asked me to step out of it, which I did. He stood behind me and put his arms around me, his hands cupping my breasts, thumb and forefinger gently kneading my erect nipples.
“You have fantastic tits!” OK not breasts then…
His hands began to explore me, moving downwards until he had my knickers on the floor, which I stepped out of, again.
“…And a gorgeous arse!” I’m being treated like a whore! Suddenly, I realised I was playing with myself! Well, it had been a long time!
“…Good girl, wank yourself off, now, bend over and show me your arse!”
I did. I caught sight of myself in the wall mirror and god, I looked a tart, bent right over and waving my bum at him, while I masturbated. If this ever gets back to the office…
Graham, meanwhile, was undressing while watching me wank. Now, naked, with an erection that I could only dream of, he said,
“Right, come here, whore,” ME, was he talking to ME, his immediate boss?
“NOW, WHORE,” He commanded. OK, he was talking to me!
“Suck my cock,” I’d never done that before, but hey ho, …”and do it right, or there’ll be no cock for you.” Right, I’d better become a quick learner…
I knelt in front of him and took his cock in my mouth. It was about nine inches long and as thick as a cucumber, quite impressive, seeing as I’d not seen one for years! As I worked on Graham, I got to know what to do. If I ran my tongue over and around the swollen head of his cock, he’d moan. Gold star! If I took the whole length in my mouth and then slowly withdrew, just holding his weapon with my teeth, same response! I’m getting the hang of this! The best moaning I got was wanking him off and licking the end at the same time!
Graham was thrusting into my mouth now, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I had a mouthful of cum. A few more licks around the tip did the trick, he came in my mouth, all over my face and down my breasts.
“Right, you’d better clean me up if you want me to fuck you, with your tongue!”
His cock was still hard and ready to go again, so I licked all his cum off his shaft, swallowing it. Graham now went to my bed and laid on it, his cock pointing to the hotel ceiling.
“OK, whore, climb on,” he instructed. Wow, I’m loving being treated like this, “and ride me.!
I joined him on my bed and lay on top of him.
“Not that way, bitch, I want to see your fat arse pumping up and down, turn around and face my feet, you fucking slapper!” Fucking slapper, hmm, I’m not sure about that, but I did it anyway!
I positioned myself as instructed and began to move on his cock.
Slap! “Faster, Whore,” Slap. Shit, what’s going on, I pumped harder.
“Better, come on bitch, move that arse!” Slap! I’d better keep my clothes on when I get home, my bum must be covered in handprints! I’m pumping up and down at a hell of a rate now and, suddenly, I’m panting. I’m riding Graham’s cock as fast as I can, and, and, and, AND, Oh god, I’m cumming!!!!!!
“Harder, Bitch, harder,” Graham’s cumming again, too, I can tell!
“…AAaaahhhhhh….., god, stop!” A flood of cum rushes into my exhausted cunt - cunt, there’s a word I’ve never used before Graham referred to it, and he’s finished.
We both collapsed in a soggy heap, me in Graham’s arms.
“You know,” I whispered, “I’ve never been spoken to or treated like that before, and you scared me doing it.”
“I’m sorry, but you’d be surprised just how many supposedly respectable women love to be treated like whore’s.”
Bastard, what was he suggesting? Still, I had really enjoyed it, and I’d cum for the first time in fifteen years!
We slept then, and woke in the morning in time to make love, not fuck like we had the night before, slowly and gently, a great start to the day. After, we showered, went down to breakfast, and it was business as usual!
The only problem now is, I want more! After so long in the wilderness, living like a nun, I now find that I’m craving sex. Not just basic sex, but all of it.
What should I do?