The Buttery Hand Job

I was never into guys my own age — they all seemed like little boys to me — and I ended up marrying a man quite older than myself.  Twenty-two year age difference didn’t seem like a big deal at the time.  I actually loved the fact that my older husband was mature and established, and had a successful career.  Life was perfect for the first few years of our marriage.

Sex was never an issue during those first blissful years.  Joe was not much of a lover — often too tired or too “limp” to screw me, but my own sex drive was pretty low back then too, so I didn’t mind.  It actually seemed like we were the perfect couple: Mr. Limpy and Mrs. Frigid.  It’s like were made for each other.

But things started to change right around the time I turned thirty.  Not sure what triggered it, but all of a sudden, I started to notice myself experience sexual feelings, thoughts and desires that I never felt before.  To my surprise, I was developing a sex drive!  And not just any ordinary sex drive either.  The timid, sexually reserved young lady that I used to be was slowly turning into this horny, sex craved, men obsessed whore.  It’s like I had this alternate ego — this Inner Erotic Goddess — that was suddenly waking up inside of me and begging me to let her come out and play.

“Play” is the wrong word here.  My Inner Erotic Goddess wanted to fuck, fuck, and then fuck again.

It didn’t just happen overnight.  It was a slow and a gradual process, but before I knew what hit me, sex was all I could think about.  Mental images of sexual acts were taking over my dreams and my conscious thought.  I fantasized about sex all the time.  Rough, soft, kinky, oral, anal, manual, group — just name it — I wanted to do it all.  But with Joe going in the exact opposite direction (becoming less interested in sex as he aged), I knew that we would soon reach the point of disconnect.

This is how bad I had it: I made a mental list of all the naughty things that I wanted to do in order of how horny they made me feel.  The first thing on my “naughty list” was a sensual hand job.  I visualized closing my hand around an erect penis and massaging it up and down…and up and down…again and again until I made it explode with squirts of creamy ecstasy.  Haven’t made a guy come in this way since college.

I followed Joe to bed one night.  I got completely naked and laid in bed right next to him.  I reached down between his legs and gently squeezed his balls.  “I want to jerk you off and watch you come all over,” I whispered into his ear.

He tried.  He really did try his best to please me, but things didn’t quite play out like in my erotic fantasy.  I kept sliding my fisted hand up and down the length of his cock, but simply couldn’t get him to cum.  We eventually gave up on the idea.  Joe climbed on top of me, stuck his half-hard cock inside my pussy, and finished himself off by fucking me the missionary style.  Missionary was his favorite.

But I couldn’t blame him.  He wasn’t the experimental type and I knew it when I married him.  That actually was one of the perks since I wasn’t into sex that much back then either.  But things were different now.  I couldn’t settle for the missionary style once every couple of weeks any longer.  It would simply be wrong to waste all that new-born sexual energy, to let my body waste away when it could give and receive pleasure in so many intriguing ways.  And my body…it was like a sexy fuck machine — every man’s dream.  I had enormous breasts and a tight pussy that was ready for action twenty-four-seven.  It’s like I was made to fuck and to be fucked.

After ejaculating intensely into my pussy, Joe rolled off me, turned to face the wall, and fell asleep almost instantly.  But I was so upset, so sexually frustrated, that sleep was the farthest thing on my mind.  I just wanted to crawl into a ball and cry.  I wiped off the blob of Joe’s cum lazily dripping down my leg, put on some clothes, and decided to go downstairs.  I poured myself a glass of red wine and just sat there on the couch in the complete dark.  I wasn’t proud of it but there was something not-so-nice on my mind lately.  Again — not proud of it — but I quietly wondered if I should I cheat on Joe.

Yes, I should cheat on him…  No, I should not.  Yes…  No…  I was torn inside.

But not even fifteen minutes into the moral struggle brewing inside of my head, the Erotic Goddess got tipsy on the wine, took over the entire thought process, and solved the dilemma for me.  Made the decision, answered the question.  Yes, I would cheat on Joe.  I would fulfill my sexual needs and live out my erotic fantasies with other men if I couldn’t do it with my husband.  The slut that she was, the Goddess insisted that I pursue that un-finished hand job as soon was as humanly possible.  She also hinted that Carlo would make a great candidate for the co-star of my first extramarital adventure.

Carlo? Really?

Carlo was the horniest guy at my work.  He was your stereotypical office pig — shamelessly flirting with all the ladies at the office, “accidentally” rubbing against them in the coat room, telling the dirtiest jokes imaginable.  But at the same time extremely clumsy while attempting all that, which (instead of offend) made the women at the office laugh and make fun of the poor guy.

Carlo liked all the women in the office but had a special infatuation with me — meaning — he wanted to fuck me more than he wanted to fuck the others.  Flattering, I suppose.  He was trying to score a date with me since the very first day we met.  “Let’s go for a drive in my car, park it somewhere quiet, and…talk,” he would whisper quietly when nobody was around.  The guy had no shame.

The fact that both of us were married was probably more of a turn on to him than the actual perspective of sex, I always thought.  The sneaking around aspect of it I guess, doing something bad, having a naughty secret.  “Maybe one day,” I would say to him just for the heck of it, but never, ever, have I taken any of Carlo’s indecent proposals seriously.  That is…until now.  Thanks to my horny alternate ego, Carlo was about to become the luckiest guy under the sun.

It was just a matter of the right opportunity now but it presented itself sooner than I thought.  The boss invited the entire department out for dinner to celebrate the successful end of our fiscal year.  Dinner was to take place the following Friday.  An office event — the perfect setting for two married people to meet for an hour or so without raising a suspicion.  You leave the event early but tell the spouse it ended late.  I sent Carlo a quick e-mail: still interested in going for that drive?  Just like I thought, he was.

Carlo came up with a detailed plan of our secret meeting almost instantly.  This obviously wasn’t his first time cheating on the wife.  He suggested that about forty five minutes into dinner, he would pretend to receive a phone call from home and leave the restaurant on a “family situation”.  Since dinner was a casual buffet this wouldn’t be a big deal.  Carlo would drive his car to a parking lot of a nearby shopping mall and wait for me there.  About a half hour later, I would make the old “headache” excuse, leave the restaurant too, and drive over to meet Carlo.

I must admit, I had mixed feeling about the “naughty secret” in the days leading up to it.  Cheating on Joe?  With Carlo?  In his rusty car?  I felt disgusted with myself on a couple of occasions and almost called the whole thing off.  However, doubts only came to me during the bright hours of the day.  But when the nighttime came, things would start feeling completely different.  Lying naked in bed…all warm and relaxed…I would touch myself in between the legs and feel my body tingle with sexual desire all over.  And during those alone-moments in the darkness, I just knew that the Erotic Goddess would not let me back out of this deal no matter what.

Friday was here at last.  Anxious with anticipation, I woke up earlier than usual.  I stood in front of my closet.  What to wear, what to wear… The strategist in me decided on a black bra with a front clasp and a sweater that easily opened in the front — a sexy red thing with a zipper going all the way down.  I needed convenient access to my best assets (my big tits) and use them to my advantage in the little game called Make Carlo Loose His Mind.  Or was it called: Make Carlo Come All Over His Rusty Car?  Sounded good either way.

I really liked the ambiance of the restaurant the boss took us to.  It was dark and cozy, which made for a great way to set the proper mood for my first extramarital adventure.  But I was having doubts again and felt nervous.  Where was the Erotic Goddess when I needed her most?  I definitely needed some alcohol in my system.  Good old alcohol, always there for me in my time of need.  I ordered a glass of Australian Shiraz and sipped on it real fast — desperate to loosen up in time to enjoy my naughty adventure.  It worked like magic.  About a half way into my first of glass of wine, I felt a nice and relaxed feeling come over me.  I was in tune with my body now, feeling all my sex parts swell up and tingle with sexual anticipation.  I was ready for the hand job of my life.

Carlo was trying hard to play it cool.  He was casually chit-chatting with this person and that, but not doing a very good job at the “not raising a suspicion” aspect of our plan.  I could feel his horny eyes on me almost the entire time.  It was like watching a hungry dog salivate at the sight of a tasty bone.  The Sober Me would probably have signaled to him to be more discreet, but tipsy on wine, I didn’t mind his eager eyes on me at all.  I actually enjoyed the effect that I had on poor, cum-filled Carlo, and decided to have little fun with the guy.

Faking interest in a story told by a co-worker sitting across the table from me — and right next to Carlo — I deliberately leaned toward him as much as I could.  As I moved my body forward, my large breasts pushed up against my folded arms, exposing a good part of them out of my sweater (oops… did it unzip a little without me realizing?).  Carlo was stirring in his seat uncomfortably, mentally fucking my tits with his cock, cumming all over them.  And even though I couldn’t actually see it, I just knew there was a little hard-on in his pants there for me already.

Carlo received “the call” from home sooner than was planned.  He was anxious — my little wine inspired tease worked like magic.  Good job, I told myself.  I was actually getting a little eager myself.  I just couldn’t stop wondering what Carlo’s penis looked like, hoping for a large, rod-like cock — just like the one in my sexual fantasy.

I patiently waited out the pre-agreed half an hour and made my move.  I quickly finished what was left of my wine and told everyone about the “really bad headache”.  Just before I got up to leave, I discreetly reached into the bread basket (placed in the middle of the table by our waiter at the start of dinner) and fished out two tittle packets of butter out of it.  I put the packets of butter in my purse and left.

Less than fifteen minutes later, I was getting into the passenger’s seat of Carlo’s car.  A warm blob of thick pussy juice, that suddenly formed between my legs, was making my pubic hair stick to my underwear in a way that made me extremely horny.

“Let’s go find a private place…”  I wanted to say to Carlo, but he was driving off before I even had the chance to open my mouth.  He must’ve known the area very well because just a short while later, he was parking his car in a secluded parking lot of an industrial complex.

It was getting late and I didn’t want for my first sexual fantasy to play out in the complete dark.

“Park over there.  By that building with the light,” I said to Carlo.

“Why?”

“Because I am going to get very naughty with your cock and I want you to watch me do it… see each and every dirty thing that I will do to you.”

Carlo parked by the building with the light like I asked.  He pushed his seat away from the steering wheel and reclined it.
“Girl, my cock is ready for you,” he said.

He wasn’t lying.  I could see a big bulge pressing hard against the fabric of his pants.  But “big” wasn’t good enough for me.  What I wanted was the largest, hardest, stiffest cock experience of my life.  This needed more work.  I unzipped my sweater, opened my bra, and let my tits bounce out of my clothes.

“Holy fuck….” Carlo hissed under his breath.  “Your tits are fucking unbelievable.  I need to suck your nipples…now.  I need to suck on them right now.”

I let Carlo suck on my nipples while I ran my hand up and down his bulged crotch.  I could feel his erection growing bigger and harder.  When I decided he was ready for the big moment, I pulled my breasts away from his mouth and unzipped his pants.  I struggled with the thick denim of his jeans but finally managed to pull them below his ass.  His erection sprung free with a sudden: “here I am!”

And there it was…Carlo’s cock.  Just the way I pictured it.  No.  It was better.  Large, hard, and so wonderfully tan-colored.  I couldn’t help but think of Joe’s small and pale penis and snickered at the unimpressive mental image.

The hand job of my dreams was just about to unfold and I couldn’t be more excited.  I started off by softly massaging Carlo’s balls.  “Oh…oh…” he was quietly moaning under his breath.  When I was finished with his balls, I wrapped my hand around the base of his penis and ran it up and down its entire length.  Just a couple of times to tease and then — I paused.

Pure bewilderment in his eyes, Carlo intently watched the hot erotic scene slowly unfolding down below his belt line.  A pleasant surprise in his eyes — as if none has ever done anything like this to him before.  “Don’t stop,” he begged, “please don’t stop!”

I reached into my purse and retrieved the packets of now half-melted butter.  Big question mark on Carlo’s face.

“What the heck is that?”

“Shhh… just trust me.”

I opened the first packet of butter and smeared its contents all over Carlo’s testicles.  I gently scooped his balls in my hand — as if they were a pair of fragile eggs — and started sliding my lubed hand over and under his balls, tracing sensual circles with it.  Round and round, again and again.  Faster, tighter, harder.  I watched Carlo’s erection get bigger and harder still.

“Oh yeah…” he moaned.

I opened the second packet of butter and squeezed its slippery contents into the palm of my hand.  I made a fist and wrapped it tightly around Carlo’s cock.  I started sliding the greasy fist up and down the entire length of his penis, in slow but rhythmic intervals, the butter making the job so easy and so wonderfully sensual.

Number one on my sexual fantasy list — a sensual hand job — was slowly unfolding in front of my very eyes.  I was getting turned on more and more, my pubic hair completely soaked in my pussy juice now, my clit on fire.  I was sliding my fisted hand up and down Carlo’s cock faster now, my exposed breasts jiggling and bouncing violently with each move I made.

I covered each and every inch of Carlo’s cock, starting rough and tight at the very base of it, and finishing soft and gentle at the tip.  I went up and down and up and down.  Faster and faster.  Carlo was in absolute ecstasy, his breathing heavy and loud now.  He was getting closer to his big release with each move of my hand.  Tighter and tighter…  His gaze was shifting back and forth — from my bouncy tits to his buttery cock and again to my tits.  “Oh fuck…oh shit…oh fuck.”

“Do you like the special way I massage your cock?”

“Yeah…”

“Are you getting close?”

“Almost there.”

“Carlo–”

“What?”

“I want you to come all over my tits.”

This very last thing I said pushed Carlo over the edge.  Every muscle of his body tensed and stiffened, and his hips started an erotic up-and-down dance to meet the rhythm of my hand.  I squeezed just a little bit tighter, went just a little bit faster, and there it was.

“Holy fuck!”  Carlo screamed.

He was cumming.  I brought my breasts near the tip of his cock as whitish cream begun squirting out of its eye.  Huge amounts of it — I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.  It went all over my breasts including my now very hard nipples.   Some of it landed on my cheek and felt so wonderfully warm against the cool skin of my face.  I kept massaging Carlo’s cock till the very last drop of the thick cream squirted out of it.

He was done.  His breathing was back to normal now and he was slowly regaining his composure.  But I wasn’t finished yet and needed some TLC urgently!  I grabbed Carlo’s hand and guided it under my skirt and inside my panties.  “Rub my clit,” I said with unintended impatience in my voice.  I was turned on to the point of near-insanity, and it would only take me a couple of short minutes to achieve an orgasm.

“Holy shit, you’re so fucking wet down there.”

“Just rub it!”  I ordered and he did as I said.

“You are such a dirty girl…”

“I’m a dirty whore and I love it.”

All I needed was to have one last look at my cum-glazed tits, one last glance at Carlo’s still hard and butter-covered cock, and I was there.

“Yes…yes…yes!”  I screamed loudly as intense orgasmic convulsions took over my entire body.  I took a tight hold of Carlo’s hand to make sure that he wouldn’t move it away too soon.  Holy crap…  This, by far, was the most powerful orgasm I’ve experienced in a very long time.  Sad, considering the fact that I was married for over five years.  I quietly wondered why Joe could never bring this much pleasure to my pussy.

I was sweaty and out of breath but needed to act fast.  I didn’t want for Joe to get suspicious.  I found some Kleenex in my purse and wiped off Carlo’s cum off my tits and face.  I got more Kleenex and cleaned up the wet puddle of pussy juice in between my legs.  I threw the dirty tissues out the car window.

“I had no idea you had a wild side, girl.  You always seem so reserved…even prudish,” Carlo said, big smile on his face.  “Can we do this again sometime?”

“We’ll see.”

I fished my cell phone out of my purse and dialed Joe.

“Hey Baby, we’re almost done in here.  I should be home in twenty minutes or so.”

I signaled to Carlo to start driving away.  Our special meeting was over.

In the meantime, I was very proud of myself for having completed number one on my “naughty list”.  This, by far, was the most erotic thing that I have ever done in my life.  So far.  But perhaps this was a one-time-thing?  Perhaps the Goddess got her sex-fix tonight and wouldn’t feel the need to pursue the remaining items on the naughty list?

But never satisfied, the Goddess was already planning my next naughty adventure.  I will tell you all about it soon.