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 Special Occasion (voy, wife, Mf, rough, anonymous) By Thomas Roche
http://skidroche.com

   PLEASE NOTE: The following story contains explicit sexuality.  By
continuing to read, you certify that you are not offended by explicit
descriptions of sex, and that you do not reside in a country, state,
province or municipality that makes it illegal to possess or consume such
content.

   This story appears in Sweet Life 2, edited by Violet Blue, Cleis Press,
2002.

   Special Occasion By Thomas Roche

   For Katrina

   Julie led the stranger by the hand as they entered the motel room.  As
soon as the door was closed, she grabbed him and pressed him up against the
wall, pressing her lips to his and kissing him deeply as she let her hands
drop to his hips, feeling the weight and texture of his belt against her
fingertips.  I'm going to fuck this guy, she kept thinking as she felt his
tongue probing back against her own, as she felt his hands reaching for her
ass, squeezing her cheeks, pulling her miniskirt up over the curve of her
buttocks.  I'm going to get on my knees and suck his dick.  I'm going to
wrap my thighs around his face.  I'm going to let him put his cock inside
me.  As she thought these things, her body responded tangibly -- her
nipples grew harder than they already were, which was very hard; her pussy
seemed to pulse and throb more than it was already pulsing and throbbing.
She knew that if her lover put his hand up her skirt, he would find her
dripping, hot, swollen -- ready for him.  I'm going to go to bed with this
guy, she thought.  This is wrong, so wrong.  So very wrong.  She could feel
her husband's eyes on her, accusing her, watching everything, knowing every
moment, every texture of her transgression -- close to her, knowing the
taste and smell of her betrayal, the sight of her with a strange man's body
against hers.

   Unable to hide her excitement, Julie glanced toward the closet door,
which was open just a crack.  Brian crouched there in the dark, but she
couldn't see him -- just a narrow strip of black where her husband hid and
waited, watching his wife fuck a stranger.  His cock was probably hard. 
Maybe he was stroking it.

   The stranger's lips parted.  She was panting, frightened but
exhilarated. She could feel his cock hard, stretching through his jeans
against her belly.  Their eyes met and she saw hunger, desperation, a
certain exuberance at being about to score with a hot chick.  He smiled.

   Without warning, Julie dropped to her knees.  She could almost feel
Brian's eyes on her as she pressed her face against the strange man's
crotch, inhaling the scent of him through his well-worn Levis.  Her hands
were shaking as she pulled open his belt and unzipped his pants; she felt
his fingers going through her hair as she reached in to his open jeans and
found him without underwear, felt his cock, hard for her, naked.  She
didn't have a single thought to think; instead, she bent forward and took
it in her mouth, hungrily.  There was no teasing, no invitation -- just the
spinning of her head as she opened up and slid the stranger's cock down her
throat, holding her breath and feeling him there, fucking her throat.  She
could feel the beat of his heart deep inside her as he gripped her hair and
let out a loud, rapturous moan.  She could feel her cunt pulsing in time
with it.

   His pants slid neatly down his slim legs, bunching around his ankles and
telling Julie that she'd been right, he really wasn't wearing any
underwear. She came up for air and went down again, wrapping her fingers
around the base of his shaft so she could lavish affection on the head,
running her tongue and lips all over it.  She moaned softly as she licked
her way down to his balls and took them in her mouth, savoring them as she
rubbed her thumb over his glans.

   "Fuck, Julie," he gasped.  "It seems like you've been waiting ten years
to suck cock!  How did you learn to do it like that?"

   "By doing it lot," she said.  "And it's been too long."

   "Doesn't your husband like getting his dick sucked?"

   Julie stiffened, her pussy clenching as she thought of Brian, hiding in
the closet, watching, stroking himself.

   "He loves it," she said.  "I do it every chance I get.  But it's still
been too long."

   "Fuck, Julie.  Suck my cock any time you want."

   She took the stranger's cock back in her mouth, both thrilled and
haunted by the fact that he'd called her by name.  She gulped him down
again, into her throat, but she could sense that he was going to come
already -- and she wasn't finished with him yet.



   Gracefully, she slid up his body and pressed herself against him.  She
could feel her breasts falling out of the thin minidress, her nipples
poking through and rubbing against his rough shirt.  She kissed him,
feeling a rush of excitement as she felt his tongue going into her and
understood that he had no compunctions about kissing her right after she'd
sucked his cock.  She wanted him, she wanted him inside her, against her.
Their lips parted slightly and she looked into his eyes again.

   "What was your name again?" she whispered.  She knew he'd told her in
the bar -- it was Dave, Tom, Ed, Mike, one of those manly one-syllable
names -- but all she'd been able to hear were the words Brian would say if
he knew, the words he would say if he discovered her in the arms of another
man.  The fear and excitement had prevented her from hearing anything
except Brian's voice in her own head.

   The man didn't answer her, didn't tell her his name.  Instead, he
grabbed her and spun her around, slamming her against the motel room wall
and kissing her again, harder this time, while he yanked up her skirt and
slipped his hand between her legs.  Her arms went up, reflexively -- not in
front of her, to ward him off, but straight up, against the wall, palms
spread, in a gesture of desperate surrender.  She felt him plucking the
crotch of her skimpy thong out of the way, felt two of his thick fingers
sliding into her, discovering her wet, wetter than even she thought she
was. He kissed her harder, slid his fingers deeper into her and with his
other hand grabbed the front of her flimsy, almost see-through minidress.
She didn't believe it was going to happen, didn't believe he'd really do it
-- until she heard the long, low rip and felt the fabric falling away in
two pieces, leaving her revealed, exposed, wearing nothing but her
barely-there push-up bra her tits were already falling out of, and a tiny,
tiny thong.  A shudder went through her as the air-conditioned air hit her
nipples and the gooseflesh spread suddenly across her breasts.

   "Oh fuck," she panted.  "You ripped my dress." She didn't mean it as an
accusation, or a complaint, but simply as a statement of overwhelming fact
-- this stranger had literally ripped off her clothes, and now he was going
to fuck her.

   While her husband watched.

   The remains of the dress blew in the draft from the air conditioning
vent as the fabric hung in tatters around her.  The stranger bent low and
took her nipple in his mouth, sucking hard and bringing a sharp gasp from
Julie's lips.  His tongue flicked over first one hard nipple and then the
other, his unshaven face prickly against her breasts as he pulled the cups
of her bra down, tucking them under the curves of her full breasts.  His
fingers went into her again, three this time, his thumb pressing expertly
on her clit, and Julie knew she was going to come -- she always came
eventually when someone played with her nipples and clit at the same time.
She knew it was close, so close, and she begged the stranger not to stop.
But there was no need -- he wasn't going to stop, not by a longshot.  Julie
felt herself dissolving into what felt like sobs as she came hard, her
upthrust arms curving around the stranger's muscled back as he fingered her
deep and suckled on her breasts, as his thumb pressed her clit in time with
the rhythm of her orgasm.  She wanted to scream "I'm coming" because she
wasn't sure he'd know she was -- but she couldn't.  Instead, she collapsed
against him in a shuddering mass of release.

   She felt like she was floating as his hand slipped out of her and he
cupped her ass, lifting her against his big body and swinging her around to
set her down on the motel room bed.  Julie lay there staring up, the
afterglow of her orgasm bringing on a sudden thrill of guilt and fresh
arousal -- Brian.  Brian can see me.  He knows.  He knows I'm with another
man.  Oh God, this is so wrong.  She felt the stranger's hands on her
thong, pulling it down her thighs, over her knees and calves, over her
feet. Then she felt the stranger gently pushing her legs open, felt the
rush of desperation from not knowing if he was going to fuck her or eat her
out -- and the ecstatic pleasure as she felt the scratch of his face
against her inner thighs, felt his fingers opening her up, separating her
lips.  Then she succumbed to the push of his poweful tongue against her
clit as his fingers slid into her again; he fingerfucked her as he started
to go to work on her clit with the tip of his tongue.

   "Oh God," Julie gasped as she felt the rush that told her it was too
soon after her orgasm -- she was too sensitive.  She wanted to tell the
stranger to stop, it was too much -- but she didn't.  Instead, she spread
wide and accepted the intense sensations as they flowed through her body,
as she ached and moaned.  His tongue flicked faster and she knew she was
going to come again.  She never came this soon.  Never.  Never with Brian.
Brian, she thought.  He knows.  He knows I'm cheating on him.

   She was right on the edge of orgasm, and she would never know if the
stranger sensed it or it was merely a fortuitous coincidence that he chose
that moment to slip his fingers out of her body and mount her, sliding his
body up hers until the head of his cock slipped neatly between her pussy
lips, his cock sliding into her body.  He was thick, thicker than Brian,
though shorter -- and he had an unusually bulbous cockhead, shaped not
unlike Julie's favorite dildo.  Her back arched and she came as she felt
the head popping in, and the slide of his shaft all the way into her made
her utter a desperate moan as her climax heightened with each millimeter he
entered her.  He started fucking her slowly, and she kept coming until she
was almost delirious with the pleasure, totally dissolved into the
sensation of being done.  She wrapped her thighs around his body and
clutched him tight, coaxing him deeper inside her as he pumped, holding
back in case she wanted to come again.  But she was quite finished coming,
her pussy swollen and sensitive, her clit raw from sensation.  She gripped
him tight, wrapping her arms around him, and whispered "Come, baby.  Come
inside me." It felt strange to call him "baby" when she didn't even know
his name -- or, more to the point, when she'd known it and forgotten it. 
But she didn't care -- she just wanted him to come inside her, to sow her
with his stranger's seed.  She begged for it, and he kept thrusting until
he let out a shuddering groan and she whispered "Yes, yes, yes, come inside
me, baby, please, I want it." When he sighed and went limp on top of her,
she knew it was over -- and she knew that Brian knew, knew every moment of
her transgression, every instant of her violation, every sight and smell
and taste of what she'd done -- or, at least, he would.

   The stranger rolled off of Julie, kissing her politely and embracing her
tentatively.  She kissed him back, but didn't move to cuddle him.  Instead,
they lay there in the sweaty darkness as Julie imagined Brian watching,
understanding that she'd done this for him.

   "Listen, I gotta get back to work," the stranger said.  He got off the
bed and pulled up his jeans, buckling them.  Julie realized she'd never
even unbuttoned his dark-blue work shirt; it was still fastened, the
silver-white "Cross-State Trucking" logo glistening in the slanted light
from the window.

   "All right," she said.  "Thanks."

   He stood there, looking at her, his eyes nervous as they took in Julie,
stretched across the bed, her dress ripped and unravelled, tangled around
her mostly naked body.

   "Sorry about the dress," he said.

   "I liked it," she smiled.  "No problem."

   "Do you have another dress or something?" he asked.

   "Sure," she said.  "Don't worry about it."

   "Well, I'll see you," he said.

   "Yeah," she said.  "Thanks."

   He came over and bent down, pressed his lips against hers, his rough
hands slipping between her legs, cradling her pussy.

   "Bob," he said.  "My name's Bob."

   "Nice to meet you, Bob," said Julie, and patted him on the crotch.

   Bob turned and left the motel room, closing the door behind him gently.

   As soon as he was gone, Julie got up, turned the deadbolt, slid the
chain home.  When she turned around, Brian had slipped out of the closet
and was laying on the crisp, starched motel-room bed, his cock hard against
his belly.

   Julie moved to slip off what remained of the minidress, but Brian said
"No, don't.  Leave it on."

   She reached the bed quickly, not even stopping to kiss her husband
before taking his cock in her mouth.  She took him deep, his taste mingling
with that of the stranger.  She felt his fingers going through her hair,
caressing her as she let his cock slip out of her mouth and mounted him,
spreading her legs as she fitted his cock head into her come-slick pussy
and sank down on top of it, moaning.

   "Oh God," Brian moaned as Julie began to fuck him.  "Thank you.  Thank
you, thank you, thank you."

   It had been Brian's fantasy, his whole life.  To watch his wife fuck a
stranger in a motel room.  It had never been Julie's -- until she had done
it.

   Just once, she had told Brian.  I'll do it just once.  Once, for you,
because it's our anniversary, and I love you.

   "Thank you," Brian whispered as Julie pressed him deeper into her. 
"Thank you thank you, thank you....."

   "Happy anniversary," she moaned softly.  But she knew that in the
instant she'd felt that stranger's lips on hers, her gift had ceased to be
for Brian -- and she knew such behaviors would never again be restricted to
special occasions.

   As they fucked, as she felt Brian's cock inside her, felt herself coming
again, felt Brian coming too, releasing himself inside her, Julie imagined
the bar across the street, the long line of semis parked, desperate men
sleeping in the cramped cabins inside -- desperate, horny men.

   "What time is it?" she asked as they finished, their bodies still
entwined on the bed.

   "It's early," said Brian, and smiled.





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