======== Path: news1.sunbelt.net!mel.hargray.com!news-out.internetmci.com!news.internetMCI.com!pull-feed.internetmci.com!news.uoregon.edu!hunter.premier.net!feed1.news.erols.com!howland.erols.net!portc02.blue.aol.com!audrey01.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: m61500@aol.com Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: May the best man win-part 1 M/F adultery, penis size Date: 1 Dec 1996 01:01:04 GMT Organization: AOL http://www.aol.com Lines: 338 Message-ID: <19961201010200.UAA05931@ladder01.news.aol.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: ladder01.news.aol.com X-Admin: news@aol.com Warning- for adults only May the best man win: M/F seduction, adultery, penis size comments to M61500@aol.com It had been a long day. But when I opened the door to my apartment and saw my wife, lying on the floor reading, sidelit by the slanting early summer sun, much of my frustration was wiped away. We had been married for ten months now. I loved her more than ever. She was the reason I put up with my job at a downtown consulting firm. For the practical need of paying her grad school tuition, and to afford the apartment, which wasn t big, but was nice. Just being able to support her was worth it. Katherine lay on her side, head propped on her hand. Her thick pale hair fell at an angle that shielded her face from view, but exposed her long neck that had always seemed a little too slender for her frame. Even from across the room, I could make out the big cylinders of my wife s breasts, encased in a tank top and squashed against the rug by her other arm. Kate s long legs were folded, her full thighs pressed together and her ankles entwined. As I put my briefcase down and shut the door, Kate finished a page, then shut her book and rose to her feet. Hi Matt she said, why so late? I threw off my jacket and stepped forward to give her a quick kiss. I took her by her hand and drew her down to sit next to me on the couch. I was enforcing the law. I had to fire someone for the first time today. Not Susan or Jeff? (his secretary and assistant, both of whom she knew and thought were nice) No. That would have been terrible. This was bad in the opposite way. I had to tell Eric Stern that he was out after 21 years. Then it wasn t a surprise. You ve been saying that the boss has been giving you more and more of his work over the past months. Yeah, which makes it worse. I ve known they ve been grooming me- and went along with it. The funny thing is that can t feel bad for him. He s nearing retirement and will get some good money. And he s single and already pretty rich- or at least has the trappings of it- the car and beach house and other junk he brags about. Not your favorite, I guess. You re right, he s a jerk- selfish, reactionary- perfect for the business world, actually, if he didn t piss a lot of clients off. But none of this made it any easier to walk into his office and tell a guy who is old enough to be my father... He must be thinking that you are a jerk. I don t know. We talked for a long time. He has been expecting it, or so he said. He s the kind of person who likes building himself up. So even in this situation he went on about how he d be spending time at the beach, watching girls bounce around - apparently he has a limited idea of fun. Anyway, like I said, we re not throwing him out the door; he ll stay on part time for a few months, so even if he were mad, he can t curse and blow up and stomp out the door for good. But it didn t seem like he was hiding anger or anything. He asked about me and gave some advice. Its like he turned the tables and was consoling me about work and being young with debts and everything. He even asked me to play racquetball next week. Will you? Yeah. He wanted to go to some club, but I said you could get us onto the University courts cheap. Do you mind? No. It is sort of weird that you... That I m acting like I feel guilty. I know, maybe it would have been better if he had gotten mad. There is no good way of firing someone Kate said. But there was a smile on her pretty, girlish face that dimpled her cheeks and put tinges of blue into her cool gray eyes. Talking through things usually made me feel better, and it was working now. Come on, Dinner is still warm. And it tasted great. Katherine was a good cook. Not that she was a traditional housewife, used to cooking for me every night. Far from it. She was a 24 year old grad student, a teaching assistant in women s studies and film, and a feminist. If her school schedule allowed her to finish early, she did usually come home and cook, though. Kate was introverted, and didn t socialize much. That was just fine with me. I wouldn t come out and say it to her, but I liked the semi-domestic pattern that we had settled into. Later that night, I was sitting and working in the living room. My wife had gone to our bedroom a few minutes before. The apartment was quiet. I heard her creak out of bed, open the door, and walk down the wood hall. She stuck her head around the corner: Honey Yes Are you coming to bed? A little bit later, I need to finish some work Oh... Katherine stepped into the room. She was only wearing panties- white cotton cut high at the hips. ... I though we could, you know... You haven t done it to me in almost two weeks. She bit her lower lip, as she tended to do when not sure of herself. And she moved her arms, which had been crossed over her chest, to plant her hands on her hips. Her breasts swayed free, big and white, and long- that was what was so extraordinary about them- that they were so full and long, and still mainly firm. It was cold in the apartment, and her brown nipples were erect and pointed at me, seemingly accusingly. I looked at Kate, moving my eyes down from her chest (even though she was my wife, I tried never to fixate; when we were dating, she had told me that they were embarrassingly large ). Anyway, there was plenty to appreciate- her long, round, but not fat, stomach, pierced by the slit of her bellybutton; her full hips; the prominent bulge of her mound beneath her panties; her long legs. She was right, I had been neglecting her in bed. I had never had a particularly active sex drive, and the last few weeks had been tiring. I got up and put my two hands on my wife s neck and kissed her. Its cold, Katie; I ll race you to bed She laughed and took off down the hall. When I made it to the room she was sitting on the side of the bed, working her panties off her full, round buns. Katherine peeled the cotton up and kicked it off, then swung her legs under the covers, which took long enough to give me a view of the thick, light brown curls of her large bush, and her vaginal lips that flashed moist and pink between her white thighs. This was nice, because we usually made love with the lights out, and I didn t see her nude that much. Kate wasn t a prude, but she definitely wasn t an exhibitionist. As a doctrinaire feminist, she often commented on the objectification of women s body in movies and TV, so I tried not to comment on her body. I turned off the lights and, pulling off my shirt, made my way over to the bed. Lights out suited me fine. I wasn t too proud of my figure. I was tall, but somewhat scrawny, with a flabby rear end. And even turned on and fully erect, as I was now, I m not well endowed- on the low end of average, around 5 inches. Kate has assured me she doesn t care or notice, and that anyway, It suits the sweet, gentle way you make love. I suppose I am gentle. We kissed and held one another. Then I got on top of my wife, and she spread her legs slightly. I guided myself into her; my dick slid in easily, and I started small in and out motions, all the while continuing to kiss her. A few minutes later, I felt the pressure building, and sped up my thrusts. Kate had just begun to move her hips in time with me, and make an occasional purring noise; now she broke her lips free from mine and whispered I m not ready... can you.. But what happens, happens. I stiffened and ejaculated into her. I rolled off her and started to apologize, but she put her finger on my lips and told me that it didn t matter, that the important thing was that we were together and that she liked me to hold her as she slept. After we took turns in the bathroom, though, she turned her face away from mine and we drifted off to sleep, bodies touching, but separate. Next week: Wednesday at lunch Eric Stern drove me over to the university. We parked on a street near the gym and walked over. There were students passing by-- as we got out of the car a cute Asian girl walked past, and Eric turned, blatantly, and watched her back recede. He must have been paying close attention to how she filled out her jeans, because he commented: what an ass. If only she had more up top. He smiled and said Deep in my heart, I ll always be a tit man. He laughed and elbowed me: I know you re a married man, but doesn t hanging around the campus with your wife drive you wild from all the sexy little coeds on display? If I wasn t over the hill I d.. hell, even as old as I am I bet I could get some of them on their backs. This kind of talk always made me nervous. But I d agreed to entertain him with racquetball and I guess this was part of the price. So I responded that the only coeds I meet are my wife s students in her women s studies courses. Some of them are pretty, but all I ever do is talk to them about whatever angle of patriarchy they just went over in class- and that isn t ideal for flirting. Women s studies, eh. I study women, maybe not in a way your wife would approve, but I study them! You should have seen me in the 70s and 80s. I had feminists begging me to give them more of my patriarchy he laughed again. But seriously: you can see that I m not great looking or anything; I m sort of a runt. (He was short, about 5 4 , and balding; but he was in good shape for his age- mid 50s- and energetic looking.) But I ve always said that if I try hard enough I can- most guys can- get just about any woman into bed. With feminists there two ways. Either you pretend you agree with her view of the world, and half the time, she ll give you her pussy as a gift in solidarity, or you convince her that screwing goes against the social norms and is some kind of rebellion. Especially if you re going after a married woman. Thankfully we arrived, and pushed through the door to the lobby. Katherine was sitting on a bench, looking bored. When she saw us she stood up and walked over. After the lecture I had just gotten, it was only natural that I watched Eric as he watched her. My wife had her parka under her arm, and was wearing a pale blue sweater over her favorite pair of old jeans. His eyes were busy, with three noticeable stops- her face, down to her chest (and yes, her sweater presented her breasts in two big bunches), then down to the v of her jeans (yes, again, her lips were outlined by the tight denim). Luckily Kate was watching me- she s not open with strangers, so after a quick hello and a smile, she focused on me and said she would check us in on guest passes. Eric, Mr. Stern, as I introduced him, asked Katherine if she would stay and watch. I play better with an audience, and I need to beat your husband to get at him back for giving me the heave-ho. She looked at him like the last thing she expected was for him to bring up that awkward issue, then tried to smile and said that mark told me how bad he felt that you had to go... He interrupted: He was just doing his job, anyway, this was the best thing that could happen to me. I ll be free to have fun, travel, date, maybe even take some classes- you students are an inspiration. Anyway, she still must have been flustered, because she agreed to stay and watch us play. As we turned for the locker room, Kate said, in a sarcastic voice, may the best man win. Eric responded that s the way it works, sweetie. We went and changed quickly. He, I noticed, was muscular, and you could tell now that he was out of a suit and into a tanktop and sweatshirts. He was also- and this is embarrassing to say- big between the legs for a short man. His sweatshirts left little to the imagination, you could see everything from the outline of his balls and the head of his penis, to the length of his shaft that swung as he moved. In the back of my head I was glad that Katherine was sitting behind us. Eric still played as much to her as to me. After hard fought points, of which most he won, he would turn around and wave through the glass wall or exaggeratedly mop his brow. Kate was sitting half way up the bleachers, leaning back with her elbows on the row behind her. A couple of times she waved back. Two games 15-10 and 15-8 losses, were enough for me. While I prepared to head for the lockers, Eric sprung up the bleachers to where my wife was sitting. not bad, hush. You should of played; you probably would have put up a better fight than Matt. Kate answered that she had tried once, but I couldn t even hold and serve the ball right, let alone hit it back off the wall. It bounced too weird. Eric lowered his voice and said: I d love to bounce balls with you and show you how to hold them . But the acoustics were such that I could hear. He added, in a louder voice, so sure, if you ever want to learn racquetball, I ll have time to try and teach you. He walked down and joined me by the door to the lockeroom, hitting me on the shoulder and joking I ll even throw in lessons for your husband. But seriously, this is what s great about being retired. I have time to spare.. I could see that Kate, as she headed for the lobby, was blushing, but smiling. In the locker room he headed for the showers, I for the locker. (I don t like showering in public) When he finished, he walked up, his towel wrapped around his waste, humming. He said your wife is really nice- and beautiful. Yeah, right on both, I replied. She looks like a model, he went on, except models don t have bodies like that! He was getting a little too exuberant for my taste, and I was just about to change the subject when I looked up from tying my shoe and almost got slapped in the nose by his big cock. He had unwrapped his towel and was facing me in the narrow aisle, pulling a shirt over his head. His dick was in my face and I had to carefully maneuver as I quickly turned and slid down the bench, grabbed my bag and left into the lobby. Katherine was waiting. I asked her what her plans were and she said she was going to the library and would see me at night. I told her that I was going to get a ride home and shower and then do some work at the apartment, so I d be there when she got back. She was turning for the door when Eric emerged, and, glowing and bouncing on his feet, asked my wife if she could help him register. Register?, but you re not a student, she replied. Yeah but I heard about these adult education classes that sound good- in crafts and creative areas, art, that kind of thing. I have a camera I never use and should learn about it. So before I know it, I m walking home and Eric and Katherine are heading the other way to the registrars. I turned and watched them for a second. From the rear they looked a comical couple; Kate s thick clogs made her look even taller than her 5 10 , so she towered over him. Eric was talking non-stop, as they came to a crosswalk and halted he touched my wife on her arm, I suppose to emphasize a point; she leaned her head down towards his, I suppose to hear better. They faded from view and I left. That walk home was instructive: I went through two stages: burning jealousy, then rational thinking. There were two good reasons why nothing would come of Eric s crude hitting on my wife: Eric and Catherine. He was twice her age, short, crude, sexist and reactionary, and too aggressive. She was young, tall, beautiful, a sensitive feminist who couldn t stand chauvinism, or show offs. Plus, she was married- to me. So I wasn t worried that evening when I found out that Eric had signed up for a photography class and would have an excuse to hang around campus. When I asked my wife what she thought of him, she said that he was funny, almost like a caricature of a lounge lizard type. Anyway, jealousy is a funny thing. It comes and it goes. Without any incidents to fuel it tends to fade, except when you are in certain moods the very absence of evidence seems like the most damning evidence of all. Now I knew that my wife was an attractive, sexually desirable woman- a real prize. I knew that men must be mentally undressing her every day. And she must have her share of come-ons and pick up attempts. But the funny thing was that I also knew that her very statuesque, smooth beauty tended to intimidate men and protect her from much serious attention- as did her shy personality. So the worries I had about Eric Stern were basically unprecedented, which made them into the paranoid category, and made me read something into nothing. The nothing was that for a couple of weeks Eric hadn t talked to me at work about Kate, hadn t called or stopped by when he was in for class, and Kate hadn t mentioned seeing him on campus. Both Eric and my wife independently seemed to be in good moods. I wasn t yet at the point that I would ask them about one another out of the blue. I did ask Eric about his photography class. He said it was going well. What sort of class is it- landscape photography, still life, studio... I don t know the fancy name, he mumbled, We learn technique in class Wednesday nights, then we get the shots at home, or, or anywhere. He was unusually reticent, considering he loved to talk about himself, his expensive gadgets, etc. I didn t think much more about it until the next Friday afternoon. I was flipping through a university course guide of Kate s and go to the continuing education/art section. There were a lot of different classes in dance, painting, sculpture, music, as well as photography. I scanned down the sessions. Photography 1, Photo 2 plus darkroom, Photo 301- cityscapes, and then it caught my eye: Photography 304- portraiture and the human form- Weds 8pm- 9:30pm... This class will look at the history of human portraiture and develop students techniques in photographing the human form, including lighting and positioning. Models provided for some in-class sittings. To fully create a portfolio, students will need service of model(s) outside class. Registration requires signed consent form from adult (18+ years) co-registrant. I picked up the phone and called university info for the extension of the professor listed. Mr. Caldwell was in his office, and answered the phone. I asked if photography 304 would be offered next semester. Yep; it s one of our popular classes. Could you explain about the outside model- it s not clear from the course guide. Sure. We have a list of models willing to sit outside class for fees, but that s usually not necessary. Around the department we call 304 cameras for couples because it attracts a lot of married couples or people who are dating- its only natural that the shots they get of one another are more natural and expressive than the pictures of our in-class posed sitters You mean nude shots? Not necessarily, no one has to do nudes to finish the class, but for a lot of them, its a fun spot. The classes follow a history of twentieth century portraiture - here he read me a list of subjects like classical posing, silhouettes, the artistic form, glamour photography, pin-ups Pin-ups? I asked. Yes, fifties type of stuff; real fun - I thanked him and hung up. My hand was shaking, but I tried to think. Had Katherine signed on as Eric s model? If so, why hadn t she been attending the class; she had been home, I was sure, on Wednesdays. Or was she just posing for him between classes? If so, when, and more importantly, what kind of posing?