The Lunch Fuc

A was excited. It was Tuesday, the day of the lunch fuck; the best day of the week. At around 13:30, though never punctual, her lover came to fuck her, every week, come rain or hail. Though an arrangement made some time ago, her heart never failed to beat an excited tattoo in her chest when the weekend went by and Tuesday approached.

The routine was never the same even though there was a sort of routine in that the day was religiously respected by both. She would wake up and there would be a tingle down there and she knew it was the day when her pussy would be filled, fucked and well satisfied . Mmmmmmmm.

She had met T at a party, a long time ago. Despite them both being with their respective partners, there had been a prickle of awareness when they had first set eyes upon each other. He was tall, dark and quite attractive. She remembered being introduced to his partner but didn't remember her; all that she remembered was trying to act normally so her own partner wouldn't notice her instinctive woman excitement.

He had been introduced to her as a fitness trainer -- oh my, he was definitely 6 feet of hard hunkiness and the way he had looked at her had made her feel weak at the knees.

Nodding politely in response to his few, equally polite questions, she had scurried away as far and as soon as possible from him and the unsettling awareness he made her feel. And yet, throughout the party, she had been aware of his look on her and hadn't been able to keep her eyes away from him either. Unbidden thoughts had entered her head and she had wondered what it would feel like to fuck this man, yes, not make love, but to fuck him? Delicious, her naughty mind had whispered to her.

When she had returned home with her partner, in response to his drunken advances, she had almost frantically and guiltily responded, as if to make up for her seemingly fickle interest and that had been the best sex they had had in a long time.

The next morning, life had returned to normal; work days merged with weekends and life went on. That brilliant firework sex never happened again -- but did it matter when you were satisfied in a relationship that felt like an old t-shirt- well worn, soft and comforting?

A few months later, A, feeling the need to get fit, she was past 30 and time would not be so merciful soon, decided to join the gym. She still remembered that first day and the shock she had got when the instructor who had been assigned to show her the ropes turned out to be T. He had looked at her and smiled, the creases on his cheeks looking oh so attractive. And he had remembered her name, all those months later!

She didn't remember the session, but what she did remember were his dark eyes looking boldly at her, his hands touching her without any seeming deliberation while he showed her how to use the various machines, his deep voice...she had returned home so turned on that dumping her sports bag on the sofa, she had sunk beside it and masturbated, coming twice in rapid succession just imagining those hands on her, that mouth on her pussy...

And this is how it had started. She started going to the gym regularly after work and he was always there, looking at her, sometimes brushing past, sometimes answering her disingenuous questions, always there. That had led to them going out together for a drink and then one day, they had kissed after the drink...the dam had burst and they had both forgotten their respective partners as they thrust their tongues in the other's mouth and kissed and fondled each other with an abandon almost meriting their being kicked out of the café where they had met, to just talk.

A was lucky that her partner travelled regularly on business and she had the house to herself often -- all too often. From those bar meetings, the encounters had escalated to their meetings in her house and to their affair.

The bell rang and A's heart started to beat that familiar heavy and fast weekly tune. She checked herself in the hallway mirror when she went to open the door. She was naked except for the red plastic apron she wore, which was low at the front but just about covered the nipples wanting to peep out. Her round and by now tight arse showed up from behind and she felt a thrill of pride at her shapely gym body. Her hair was put up in a bun, fastened by an easy to remove clip and she had on the lipstick he liked so much, 'fuck-me-red' he called it.

She opened the door and he stood there -- tall, and slurpingly sexy.

"Hello", she said, moving backwards so he could walk in and as she reversed, enjoyed the look of glazed lust on his face as he took in her appearance, from her red apron to her toes, red toe nails peeping out saucily from her high heeled sandals.

He came in, deposited his jacket on the table by the door, pulled her into his arms and they kissed. As his tongue moved into her mouth, she sucked it lightly and felt his hands reach down and grasp her naked arse- desire raced straight to her clitoris and she felt dampness between her legs. As he pulled her crotch closer to his, she felt the responding hardness sticking out from his jeans and a sigh of satisfaction escaped her.

With a wicked little laugh, she suddenly reached behind her and swatted his grasping hands away, while disengaging from his embrace.

"Lunch will get cold", she murmured seductively, deliberately biting her lower lip. With that, she turned her back on him, well aware of her naked arse glinting up at him, and swayed off to the kitchen. She didn't turn to see if he was following, she knew he was.

The table was laid for two, by the alcove in the kitchen. It was a romantic little corner, ideal for two and yet used mostly by her. A white spray of orchids stood in an earthenware pot in the middle of the table. Plates, wine glasses, napkins and cutlery had been laid out as soon as she had finished breakfast, in delicious anticipation of lunch.

With her back to him, she timed bending down to look into the oven just as he walked in, knowing full well how salacious her hairless pussy lips would look to him, peeping out from between her arse cheeks, between the red apron edges. She heard his strangled sigh and smiled to herself. Slowly she straightened up and turned her head to look at him.

"Fish is ready, are you hungry?" she asked, her eyelids heavy on her eyes. He nodded and moved over to her and bending down, kissed her neck, just at the point where it met her shoulder. She gasped sharply as desire reignited in her lower belly. His lips moved slowly up her neck, to the lobe of her ear and he gave it a little nip which sent delicious shivers running down her back. As she turned towards him, he pulled the hairclip off her bun and her long, lustrous hair cascaded down her back. They kissed and it was suddenly frantic- a long week had gone by when they hadn't seen each other and the pent up sexual frustration of the week came out in the rushed movement of lips, tongues and hands. A moment later, she had been pulled up and had her legs wrapped around him, his hands back where they belonged on her naked arse, pushing her up and down slowly against the erection straining against his jeans.

A buzz entered her hazed senses and its insistent sound made its way through the fug of desire. She pulled her mouth away and looked back towards the oven, unseeingly. Something registered.

"Shit, the food, it'll spoil, stop distracting me", she said it all in one sentence. Reluctantly, he put her down and turning away, adjusted his suddenly uncomfortable cock.

This time, she bent down sideways, afraid her legs wouldn't hold her and almost too carefully, pulled the aromatic oven tray towards herself, wearing the oven gloves lying conveniently close. Picking it up, she straightened and carried the tray to the table where T was waiting.

Lunch was delicious but she was too sexcited to eat. The front hem of the apron kept on rubbing against her sensitive nipples, keeping her already swollen pussy wet and sending sharp currents of electricity through her body from time to time. The wine helped the conversation to flow but she couldn't wait for the meal to be over. Anticipation was making them both lose their appetite.

Once over, she got up to clear the table when suddenly, T forced her against the wall, her back to him and spread-eagled. She gasped in delight as he untied the knot the knot of her apron, which slid to the floor. Then, very lightly, he started to lick his way up her body, from her calves to her thighs, letting his tongue linger on the crack of her arse, up the small of her back, to her nape and ears, sucking, licking and kissing and at the same time, sliding his miraculously uncovered erection between her legs while he massaged her tits from behind. She started to moan as he slid a finger up and down her puffy pussy lips, now wetter than before and wanting. Her hot cunt sucked on his finger and the pressure on it made him want more. Still fondling her tits and rubbing her erect nipples, he slid his cock effortlessly into her pussy, which clenched his cock like a tight, slippery glove and started to pump her, his tongue in her mouth. As she moaned in pleasure, he pulled her arse out so that just her arms were leaning against the wall and grabbing the cheeks in a tight grip, thundered in and out of her. His cock felt so good in that hot, wet pussy as he slid in and out of her. He felt a hand against his balls which were slapping against her arse and cunt and almost came when he felt her tugging them.

He pulled out and his cock sprung out, gleaming with her pussy juices. She turned around and going down, took it in her mouth and started to rub the foreskin up and down, moving her mouth and tongue around the head, in that sensitive part where it met the shaft. As he watched, she looked up at him and watched him watching her, her eyes hooded with desire, watching him close his eyes in voluptous pleasure and moan. At the same time, with the other hand, she rubbed her pussy, a finger sliding in and out, matching the rhythm of her other hand moving on his cock.

When he couldn't anymore, he leaned forward, pulled her up and led her to a chair. Sitting on it, he pulled her on top of him and over his erection. There was something so erotic about him being fully dressed and her completely naked. As her soft wetness slid over his erection, they both lost control and the pace upped. She moaned and holding onto his broad shoulders, bounced on him as hard as she could ram her wanting pussy and he stabilized her wild movements with his hands on her hips. His mouth laved her nipples jostling on her heaving breasts and he felt the telltale trembling which announced her approaching climax. At the same time, her pussy walls closed even tighter around his cock and he felt his own impending climax. With a loud moan, she came, over and over and over. He felt the swollen soppiness and unable to control himself anymore, with a shudder, he came.

Gasping, shuddering and sweating, they leaned on each other with eyes closed, recovering from the climax of a week long wait.