I told myself I shouldn't. be doing this, that I should never let myself be picked up by a stranger, but when he looked at me I smiled back at him. He was probably from Jamaica, or Kenya, or some other exotic place where people had skin the color of coffee. The second time our eyes met I didn't think of my husband, didn't think of being a faithful wife, just thought of the stranger who had smiled at me twice, imagining him making love to me, thinking about his erection sliding into me. He was tall and handsome, with broad shoulders and a warm and sexy smile. The third time our eyes met our smiles lasted nearly a minute and neither of us took our gazes away. When he finally came over and introduced himself I felt a little giddy, and I think I blushed and looked down at my feet.
When I came to my stop I pulled the chord and I saw him reach for it as well.
When we got off he said his name and asked if I needed a lift, if I was going to take a taxi for the next leg of my journey. Even though my destination was merely a block away, I said yes, I was going to take a taxi. He asked if I'd share one and I nodded.
I looked at his hands and thought about what people say about black men with large hands. His hands were huge. He hailed a taxi and opened the side door for me.
When I got in I told him a name I'd made up as I tried to think of a destination I could tell the driver. None of those times did I think of my husband, only about the man I was with, and when I thought of a place to go I said it out loud and wondered where he was going.
"I'm going there too," he said. ""What a coincidence. Are you staying there?" I told him I was and waited for his reply. "I am too," he said. "Maybe we could have a drink together." I said that would be nice and my head was spinning with desire. Could I let this stranger pick me up? I then flashed about my husband waiting at home for me to get back from my long trip to the city.
He told me his name and I quickly forgot it. "You live here in Boston?" I asked. He said he did and I thought how I could run into him again.
"How about that drink?" he asked. I said I'd love to without giving another thought to my husband or my family or any of my friends. When we got to down town Boston I went with him to the hotel where he was staying and we sat together in the bar. I had told him my name, making up something I don't even remember, then we ordered drinks.
After some brief conversation, he invited me up to his room and, tempted to let myself enjoy whatever happened, I accepted. I said, "I'd love to." He was very handsome and I had the strongest desire to have him make love to me, and when we were inside of his room I kissed him without hesitation, just raised up on my toes and kissed him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He began undressing me on the spot and I let him, stood just watching him take my clothes off, smiling as he did, waiting for what was to come. When I was nude I did the same to him. We crawled into bed and I reached for his erection immediately and found it, then moved my legs apart and put the head of his penis at my lower lips, moved the head of his cock around against my wet pussy and squeezed it in to me.
He fucked me for nearly twenty minutes and we kissed and fondled one another, then he said my made-up name and I told him I was married. "That is important only to you," he said, "not to me. It's not a problem for me. I don't really care," he said. I asked whether he was married and he said not anymore. I did not give a thought to the fact I had promised to be a faithful wife and I held his penis in me and pushed my hips into his, savoring the feel of a fully engorged penis inside of me.
"I have not done this before," I said and he said it didn't matter. He said it was just between the two of us and he didn't care about vows either of us had taken before. When he was approaching orgasm I let him come in me and said nothing. My tubes had been tied years before and I relished being able to let him come in me, letting him shoot his semen in my vagina, to empty his balls in me. We cuddled and he asked me what I did. "I'm a school teacher," I said, "and I try to teach girls not to do this with strange men."
He laughed at the irony. "Sometimes you need to do for yourself," he said. "I've enjoyed my time with you," he said. "Let's not analyze it. Let's just fuck and enjoy one another and have sex like two adults who like doing it." I savored the comfort of his arms around me and I felt his organ shrink and fall against my leg.
I thanked him for fucking me and not expecting more than an afternoon of pleasure. "If I don't see you again, I hope you have a good life," he said. "Is your husband a good man?" he asked.
I told him he was and he said he was glad. "Is that your real name?" he asked.
