For the third time in her life, Molly Kate jerked off a complete stranger.
The day started off normally enough. She attended Sunday service like always, except today she kept it brief and didn't go shopping afterwards. Instead, she drove to a nearby motel and parked. She spent five minutes sitting in her car and feeling nauseous. She was glad she skipped breakfast. Resolving to push herself out of her comfort zone, she walked out and knocked on the door of room 56. Her heart skipped a few beats when the door opened.
"I'm Mol-... I'm Molly Kate," she stammered.
The traveling businessman invited her in. Her heart was beating unbelievably fast and her fingertips got cold and colder. She kicked herself for using her real name but resolved to remember not to next time, which surprisingly also made her realize she decided there would be a next time. He wasn't much to look at, but that's not why she came over.
She instantly decided the room was way too bright, making her feel exposed. She wanted to be invisible, not the focus of attention. Skipping rest of the introduction she slowly walked around and closed all the curtains, her hands trembling from the nervousness. She definitely felt safer in the dark. Better. More anonymous. She ran her hands under the warm tap water in the bathroom for a few minutes and dried them off. It bought her time. Today it only took her five minutes to overcome her crippling anxiety.
Just minutes later, she was straddling a naked man on the bed, facing away from him.
She was fully clothed, of course, because she only felt safe that way. Her flowery church handbag was on the nightstand next to her glasses and her shoes on the floor below. She was wearing a white lacy shrug over her tight church dress, which was neither too long nor too short. Everyone but herself thought she was beautiful- she was petite, had medium-length blonde hair and had just all the right feminine curves.
This man was much taller than her and had a bit of a belly. From her previous encounter she learned not to wear pants because they were too rigid and got in the way. Her pantyhose stretched over his stomach, but she fit just right over it and felt reasonably comfortable.
She had his hard cock in her soft hand, stroking it up and down very slowly.
Her wedding ring slid over his veiny shaft and perversely delighted her with the level of disgust she felt from doing it. Her husband had ignored her sexual needs for years while jealously limiting her social life. That left her with a very few outlets and gradually made her social anxieties unmanageable. Now she pulled a stranger's meat up and down and loved doing it.
Meeting yet another stranger for a handjob made her feel humiliatingly disloyal. Molly Kate was a good church-going wife, and she shouldn't be holding a stranger's cock. It was so nasty but bizarrely thrilling. That little inconsistency got her really wet.
Her other hand cupped his balls and gently massaged them downwards.
No one could understand what really excited her about giving a handjob to a stranger. She was aware of how commonly men and women cheated, but that wasn't the appeal. It was about meeting someone new and having no limits imposed on her, aside from ones of her own. It was about doing something secret she didn't have to account for to anyone. It was literally exploring, doing something new and later reflecting on how it felt without being judged.
Molly Kate stroked a little faster and slouched to better see his bulging meat. Maybe the room was too dark now, she thought. This was the biggest cock she ever held in her hands, and was very surprised that it made her feel so horny. The other two times made her feel nothing but guilt and nervousness. This time was meant to be just selfish and haughty. She adjusted her panties through her pantyhose while she stroked, and took her sweet time doing it.
It all started one day with an emergent thought. How would it feel to stroke someone's cock? She loved and hated her husband because he was so controlling. She couldn't leave the house without him knowing where or why. As a result, she kept in touch with fewer and fewer friends and family over the years. Now that going to church was the only time she had to herself, she admitted hitting rock bottom. If she hadn't done this, she probably would have become a complete shut-in.
"Can I hold you?" he asked.
She was too shy to say anything, so she turned around and nodded without making eye contact. He brushed her back gently and settled his hands over her hips. Being held felt strange but allowed her to lean in a bit and get a better reach. She kept steadily stroking. Her hands were smooth and silky and gently stretched his meat up and down. His cock smelled a strange kind of musty - like a man, with a touch of motor oil on the side. She stuck her hand inside her pantyhose and adjusted her panties again while stroking.
The other month she started rationalizing her curiosity. Men were commonly into meeting up with no strings attached, so this was plausible and wouldn't create drama. She could be fully clothed, so there would be hard limits to what she did, so it wasn't exactly cheating. She didn't even have to look at the guy if she faced away. There were lots of businessmen traveling in and out and she was just innocently stroking a cock a little.
Overcoming her nervousness took weeks but her mind was here and now. All she could think about was how she was holding a big hard veiny cock in her hand and feeling the intoxication of holding power over him. She could walk away anytime. She could stop pleasuring him and it would stop at her whim. Every deliberate stroke was of her doing. She was in control. She had to explain nothing. It excited her, and she rubbed her clit through her panties while she stroked. Just for a little bit.
He was now massaging her hips sensually, pulling her whole body down on his stomach. Bottom of her pussy rubbed against it and she was surprised when she pulled her hand out and willingly started grinding herself off his belly. Even through her panties and pantyhose it felt good, and she enjoyed herself. She moaned and opened her mouth to breathe harder. She was really getting worked up. The movement dislodged a few things and forced her to reach under the dress and adjust her panties again. She wasn't planning on this part, but it was fun.
Drops of precum kept forming on his cock and she would rub them off with her hand and use it to lubricate her stroking, stroking faster until it dried up. He was very drippy.
She leaned over too much and grinding against his stomach made her whole body wobble unpredictably. She had to brace herself with her other hand for a moment and just then she decided she was getting carried away. Because she was having too much fun, she decided to get her pussy away from his stomach. She slid over closer to his cock.
Front of her dress was now too close to it. She didn't want to get it accidentally stained, so she raised the front with her clean hand. She thought she could just tuck it out of the way, but it was too tight. She had to hike up her entire dress to give it enough slack. She scrunched up the side edges until they reached his hands. It exposed her front entirely and she didn't mean to do it.
Too late now. She kept stroking and glanced at her glistening crotch few inches away from his hard cock. Her wet pussy soaked through her white pantyhose. It made her wonder, but she still felt reasonably distant and safe. She could smell his cock again.
He took a wrong hint from her hiking up the dress so he put his hands under it, over her bare hips. That was the hard line she didn't want to cross, so she let go of his cock to guide his hands back over the cloth. Just as she put them back over the cloth, she felt his thick cock slam against her clit.
