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A One Cruise Stand
by A Romantic Fool (aromanticfool@gmx.com)

***

I take a cruise with my wife, my bitchy mother-in-law, 
and bickering kids. It was going to really suck, but 
then I meet Leslie (MFF, affair, husb-cheat, rom, size, 
oral, anal)

***

I hadn't wanted to go in the first place. You'll think 
I'm crazy, but a two-and-one-half week cruise wasn't my 
idea of fun. Especially since my Mother-in-law would be 
traveling with us. And our nearly grown kids, who 
weren't nearly as much fun as when they were younger. 
What happened to the days when I could travel with a 
backpack and no firm plans? Drifting from city to city, 
drinking the local wines, and befriending the local 
women. I probably remember those days selectively, but 
it's nice to wander back to those memories.

I tried to dream today, but my reverie was interrupted 
by the kids fighting with each other about something 
inane and then my mother-in-law chewing them out. Fun. 
And the cruise had just started.

I was sitting in a lounge chair on a crowded deck as the 
ship headed out of port and to sea, with my wife next to 
me, and her mother on her other side. I don't know what 
I was thinking. My novel is dull. I decided I was having 
a crisis. A midlife crisis. Fuck it. I headed off to go 
lift weights. Just the sight of the buffet lines makes 
me feel ten pounds heavier. In spite of recently turning 
45, I've stayed in good shape. Call it vanity if you 
like, but to me it's pure fear: fear of aging, fear of 
irrelevance.

The ship's gym was nearly deserted since we'd just left 
port. The ceiling was low, and I bumped my head on it as 
I did my workout starter of twenty pull-ups. There's no 
free bar, so instead, I did some CrossFit-style warmups 
and circuits with the Nautilus machines. I was breathing 
hard by the time I finished and then did my abs. I'd 
just gone into a plank when I saw her in the mirror. 

She'd just walked into the fitness center. About my age, 
with dark hair and eyes. And without being crude, let's 
just say that her Lulemons looked mighty fine. While I'm 
agonizing through my long plank hold, I watched her snap 
a band tight on her ponytail and stretch just behind a 
treadmill. To say she was a little flexible is like 
saying a nuke is a little bomb. Holy shit.

I didn't want to be that guy, so when I finished 
torturing my abs, I picked a treadmill far away from 
hers. I cranked up a fast tempo playlist and I was off. 
I did a quick half mile at 8:00/mile pace, and then 
cranked it up to 7:30/mile. I'd just passed my first 
mile when I saw a message pop up on the monitor attached 
to my treadmill.

"ACCEPT CHALLENGE FROM TREADMILL #002?"

I look over and she waved to me. Holy shit. Really? Of 
course I pushed "YES" and after a countdown timer, two 
little runners appeared on the screen. She was the 
better looking one. Actually, they both looked the same, 
but I can tell immediately which one is hers because it 
leaped ahead. We can't have that, now can we? So I 
picked up my pace. 

At 7:00/mile, my little figure was keeping pace, but she 
was still ahead. I increased to 6:45/mile, hoping to 
catch up without my heart rate going too high, but she 
seemed to speed up, too. No way she can keep up that 
pace. I skipped a ho-hum song and then My Chemical 
Romance ripped into my ears. I could do 6:30. My little 
guy started catching up. I risked a glance over at her, 
and she was smiling. I was not. 

I couldn't keep up 6:30 for long. My little guy almost 
caught up and then suddenly she accelerated again. How 
could she do that? It's not like she was some skinny 
little runner girl. She looked tough enough to kick my 
ass. Well, not really, of course, but she is built. 
Sweat is running down my face. I can do 6:00, I decided, 
and cranked it up. I was definitely not smiling then, 
but my guy is finally catching up. Too late, though. The 
screen flashes:

"GAME OVER. YOU LOSE!"

This bitch must have been Wonder Woman! I'm just old 
enough that I remember Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman. And 
what youngster in those days didn't want to fuck Lynda? 
I know I sure did. Actually, I'd still fuck her now--
she's still hot at 65! I could see that the girl was 
still running, so I kept going, though I slowed my pace 
to 7:30/mile and finished my three miles. After wiping 
my treadmill down, I headed over to the bin of water 
bottles, towel hanging around my neck. She sauntered 
over.

"Often get beat by girls?" she taunted. She was a true 
beauty. Figure beyond compare with dark flashing eyes. 
Her wide smile was slightly asymmetric, but this just 
added to her charm.

I smiled back. "And here I thought my ego was 
irrepressible," I said. "Seriously, girl, you are fast. 
How do you train?" We chatted for a few minutes. Her 
name was Leslie and she was from Seattle. Clearly she 
did lots of running in the rain!

"Rematch tomorrow? Or will you be filling your face at 
the buffet?" she said, as she poked at my iron gut. We 
agreed to an early hour, even though the next day was 
also a day at sea, heading for Sicily from our departure 
in Barcelona.

I don't remember what I did the rest of that day, other 
than daydream of Leslie. Her dark hair was 
breathtakingly exotic to me. Let me explain. My wife is 
pale blonde. When we were first married, she was svelte 
and attractive, but unfortunately those days are past. 
She let herself go past a point of no return. Sure, 
she'd love to be thin again, but it's so difficult at 
this point that she's just given up. We mostly get 
along, but when she's on the rag, she can be a real 
bitch to me and the kids. I've never seriously cheated 
on her, except once when my administrative assistant 
gave me an unbelievable blow job in my office once after 
I gave her a particularly large bonus. Holy fuck, that 
was hot. I nearly passed out as she sucked me dry. But I 
digress.

Dinner was mediocre and I just played with my food. My 
wife ate heartily. "You really have to try the veal 
cutlets," she said. "You know you can order as many 
entrées as you want, right?" Fuck. Me. If it weren't for 
my appointment with Leslie in the morning, I'd have been 
tempted to dive right off the deck. Drowning would be 
sweet mercy. Her mother bitched about something and then 
also tried to get me to eat more food. Fucking bloody 
hell. 

The kids were poking each other or somesuch. They were 
bored since they couldn't gab with their friends on 
Instagram, and resorted to tormenting each other. I'd 
been carefully trying to scan around the gigantic dining 
room. Was Leslie anywhere nearby? There were at least 
two dinner shifts and hundreds of tables. The chances of 
her being in visual range was next to nil.

And then, miracle of miracles, I saw her. She was clear 
across the cavernous dining room, but when I scooted my 
chair a touch, I could see her through a gap between two 
obese people who were inhaling copious quantities of 
food. And she was a vision. Her dark hair was down and 
lustrous. She was sitting next to a balding guy who had 
the air of being rich. It looked like she was listening 
to the bald guy, but I noticed she was fiddling with her 
phone under the table. Bored.

When it was finally time to leave the dining room, I 
managed to catch her eye and was rewarded with her huge, 
but slightly crooked smile. She really was beautiful. I 
wished I could tell her that.

I was early to the fitness center and mostly messed 
around while waiting for Leslie. What if she didn't 
show? But then, right on time, there she was. Smiling 
ear to ear, she said hello and did her ridiculously hot 
stretching routine. Me, I hadn't wasted any energy 
lifting first. It was all about the run today.

We mounted side-by-side treadmills, and soon the race 
was on. She was smiling a little less as I started out 
at 6:00/mile. My little guy jumped out to an early lead. 
I had learned that the trick was not having to catch up! 
I looked over and she was still smiling. I wondered what 
her game was, but mostly I just loved to see her smile. 
I kept up my pace, but it was tough. I was soon 
breathing hard. 

Unbeknownst to me, she'd set the race length to three 
miles instead of one. I didn't realize this until after 
we'd passed the mile boundary and I was running out of 
gas. I had to slow down, and eased back to 6:30/mile. 
Her little guy started inching forward on mine. I'd 
overdone it, and by two miles, I had to dial back to 
7:00/mile. Her little guy shot past mine and she ended 
up winning by a tenth of a mile.

We met again by the water bottles. "Are you on WiFi?" 
she asked. It was the only way I'd stayed sane so far. 
I'd purchased one of the bulk minutes of WiFi to stay in 
touch with the outside world even though it was slow and 
crazy expensive. She gave me her SnapChat handle. The 
first thing she sent me was a pic just out of the 
shower. Only a hint of cleavage, but she looked so hot 
with wet, wild hair. I resisted the urge to send a dick 
pic (again, I didn't want to be that guy, but I am 
pretty proud of my endowment) and found a clever angle 
to show a fully flexed tricep. It looked pretty good. 

She sent back a string of positive emoticons. I was in 
love. And I couldn't believe she was coming on to me 
like this. There was no freedom to hook up on the ship! 
Like everyone, I was expected to be spending Quality 
Family Time. And even should I manage to get away, where 
would I get with her? There were people everywhere, 
every hour of the day and night.

The second day at sea again had us all again on deck, 
wedged in among the masses. At least the weather was 
decent. The kids were off doing who knows what. Since 
I'd already used the workout card, getting away from my 
wife was going to murderously difficult. Some discreet 
messages back and forth established that we were in the 
same general part of the ship. She was with her 
prematurely aging husband. I spied his wattle trundling 
into the pool. The water level rose as he jumped in. She 
messaged some funny fat emoticons, to which I responded 
in kind.

I had to have her. Now. I excused myself to get a drink 
and walked over past where she was. Her bikini was a 
work of art on her. She flashed me her smile. I did a 
"follow me" with my eyebrows and headed for the foredeck 
stairs. "Spa" I messaged her as I walked. I took the 
steps two at a time and soon was on deck 15. 

The spa desk was unattended and I slipped past as if 
going to the fitness center, but ducked into an empty 
massage room. It was only a minute after I messaged her 
"massage room 3" that she quietly slipped in behind me. 
She was wrapped in a wispy white cover-up that covered 
very little. I wasted no time, but took her in my arms 
and kissed her. She responded in kind, and then some. 
She was randy and hot and stuck her hands inside my swim 
trunks, cupping my ass and pulling my already hard cock 
against her hips.

"God, you're huge!" she whispered, as we came up for 
air. I was proud and kissed her again. My hands were on 
her breasts, moving her bikini straps aside. Her breasts 
were firm, like every inch of the rest of her. They were 
conically shaped, with nipples proudly jutting towards 
my chest. I wanted to get my big cock inside her. The 
problem was that the spa was due to open really soon, 
and the door didn't lock. The best option at this point 
was to get her off, with the promise of more later. I 
lowered my ha

nd and gently slipped it under her cover-up and found 
her waiting sex. Her pussy was shaved perfectly smooth, 
and she was hot and wet. Gathering some juices on my 
fingers, I started rubbing her clit. Slowly at first, 
with circles, then faster and faster as she responded. 
It didn't take long. Soon she was in the throes. I 
kissed her to keep her quiet, and held her as her legs 
grew weak, but kept up the pace. 

She had two or three quick orgasms before we heard 
voices in Tagalog or some other unfamiliar language. The 
spa was opening! I helped her get covered back up and we 
slipped out. The Filipinas outside were surprised to see 
us, but we walked away without giving them a chance to 
object. I squeezed her hand and gave her a pat on the 
ass as she walked off. She turned back with her amazing 
smile, which I had to be content with for now.

I returned with a couple drinks, managing to hide my 
hardon down my leg. The worst part is that my wife had 
decided that it was time for some nookie time. And while 
I was very much in the mood, it wasn't her I had my 
sights on. Maybe if I made her really sore, she wouldn't 
want any for a few days. We headed back to our cabin. 
I'd grown resigned to fat sex. It wasn't always 
horrible. She was so loose from my cock and from the 
complete absence of exercise that she really liked to be 
pounded hard. The problem was that it was hard to make 
her sore. It was easier to get her pissed off, which in 
this case could come in pretty handy.

The beds were very firm. She flopped down in her normal 
way, but I helped her up on her knees. She presented her 
fat ass to me, like a bitch in heat. I felt like a 
cheater, but biology is biology and rammed my rod all 
the way into her pussy in one stroke. Even as large as I 
was, she was so loose there was little feeling there, so 
I hammered away. She never made noise during sex, but 
was clearly enjoying it, rocking back against my 
strokes. I wetted a finger with her copious juices and 
started working her asshole with it. She didn't like 
this much, and swatted my hand away. 

I grinned. This might work. 

I slowed my thrusts and then in a flash, pulled out my 
cock and put it in her ass. She tensed against me but 
didn't really fight it. I didn't want to really hurt 
her, so I only put an inch or so in, but worked it 
increasingly fast. I used my fingers to rub her 
clitoris, at least making a pretense of doing this for 
her benefit. The truth is that she never comes unless 
her legs are out straight and tensed. And only when I 
(or she) rubs it out. But as I slammed into her ass and 
rubbed her clit, she shocked me with a massive orgasm. 
She literally fell forward onto the bed, quivering. 

I kept going, straddling her ass, driving deeper now. 
She was gasping like a fish out of water, her legs 
shaking. I'd been so hot from my session with Leslie 
that the sight of my chubby wife in full orgasm made me 
blow my load deep in her ass. "Ungh!" I groaned as I 
deposited rope after rope of cum in her bowels. My plan 
to get her pissed off had backfired.

She cleaned up and didn't say much, as was her usual. 
She seemed embarrassed to have come with my dick in her 
ass. Like she was uncomfortable playing the slut. I just 
wanted to get out of there. The last thing I wanted was 
a bunch of fake cuddling.

After a quick shower, we were back on deck. My mother-
in-law was bitching us out for having made her defend 
our deck chairs. The way she put it, she'd had to fend 
people off with a taser. As I took the abuse, I saw a 
heavy couple walk by gnawing on turkey legs. Fuck me. 
Turkey legs?

"You're good," I got in a snapchat. "I want that cock 
inside me." There was unfortunately no emoticon for 
that, though it would be fun to sketch some out. In 
return, I found an excuse to use the restroom and took 
that dick pic. It was time to be "that guy," but my cock 
looked good enough to pull it off.

I rushed everyone to dinner that night. I NEEDED to see 
Leslie's entrance. Her seat was far enough away that I 
couldn't see her head to toe except for when she 
entered. And I was soon rewarded by the sight of her. I 
didn't know hair could shine like that. And her dress 
was flowing, but clung to her shapely hips and 
accentuated the swell of her breasts. 

She was loaded with sparkly jewels. Her fattie was 
clearly loaded, and tried to keep her in the stable with 
lavish gifts. I got a smile, unfortunately from a 
distance. And shortly, another message as she fiddled 
with her phone. "My turn to find a place. Stay tuned."

I was as hard as a rock, and beyond distracted. "It is 
not possible for someone to look as good as you," I 
messaged back. "You're unbelievable!" My wife started 
bitching me out for doing email at dinner. I did look at 
a few messages: no crises back at work. Getting 
assaulted over doing some email at dinner was much 
better than getting caught at what I really was doing. I 
thought getting laid would get her to back the fuck off, 
but I guess not.

More food, and thankfully more wine. The conversation 
was about the big show that night, the quality of the 
food (gag me with a pitchfork), and how lame the other 
kids on the ship were. I realized if I was going to be 
"seasick," I better get started with the act. I couldn't 
imagine how to look pale and green, but I started 
whining. 

This got a bit of surprise, because I'm not much of a 
complainer, but it was necessary. I'm not sure if it 
looked wrong to be complaining about nausea while 
gulping down wine, but I really needed the drink. And 
then, the message came: “follow me,” it said. My head 
jerked up. I saw her making her way to one of the exits.

“I’m going to be sick,” I said, and stumbled away from 
the table. I hope I was convincing as I hurried to the 
same exit. There were hundreds of people around, and 
there was nothing to make it look like I was following 
Leslie.

I rushed and saw a flash of her dress going up the 
stairs. I followed. This girl could move, even in heels! 
Unlike on the treadmill, I caught up to her quickly as 
she waited for me on the landing of the deck just above 
the dining room. “Hurry,” she said. “I don’t have much 
time."

“Me, either,” I said.

She pulled me down the corridor and through a door on 
the inside of the ship marked Crew Only. “The crew is 
all working in the kitchen or dining room,” she said. 
“We have a few minutes.” 

The room inside was industrial-looking, and was filled 
with bags of laundry, racks of hanging dry cleaning, 
carts of shampoo bottles and other bathroom 
replenishments. Once we were in, she shoved me against 
the closed door. “I have to see that cock,” she said. 
and deftly whipped it out of my pants. I was already 
partially hard, and it pointed its way proudly to her 
face. “That is just not possible!” she said. “Look at 
the size of that thing!” 

She knelt and jacked me a little, and it grew even more. 
“So sorry to have left you with blue balls after this 
morning,” she said. It didn’t seem necessary to explain 
that I’d emptied it into my wife’s ass earlier. 
Especially since she took me in her mouth and started 
jacking me harder. 

I groaned, as she sucked hard and then released my cock. 
I was getting tunnel vision. She worked my cock like a 
pro. As large as it was now, she couldn’t get more than 
an inch or two into her mouth, but her fist moved on me 
like a machine. The cum has never boiled up in me so 
fast. Her other hand slid back and massaged my prostate 
and I saw stars.

There was no way I was going to last, nor did I want to. 
I don’t think I’d breathed in a minute when all at once, 
it let loose. I’m sure I was muttering or yelling or 
something. I have no idea because I nearly passed out 
and fell on a pile of dirty laundry. I came and came, 
and she took all of it. She was slurping and swallowing 
until I finally stopped. I hadn’t come like that in, 
well, I think never. Holy shit.

When I regained my composure, I pulled her to her feet 
and kissed her deeply. I could taste my cum as our 
tongues battled. I’ve never been afraid of a little cum. 
How could I ask her to drink mine otherwise?

“We need to go,” she said.

“What about you?"

“I’ll get mine later,” she said, and smiled. “At least I 
better! Be in cabin 1124 at 9:30. I need that thing in 
me!"

My cock soon fit back in my pants and we hurried back 
into the dining room—separately, of course.

I’d planned to be “feeling much better” when I got back 
to the table, but It turned out that the variety show 
also started at 9:30. My MIL was talking it up. It was 
critical that I still be too sick to go, and so I said 
so. The kids started whining that they didn’t want to go 
either. They wanted to hang out with their new friends. 

My wife gave me the evil eye, but her mother started 
bitching again, and that was that. I would be free. I 
skipped dessert and wandered back to my cabin. I did 
some pushups, some chair dips, and a little ab work. 
Needed to make sure my testosterone levels were in good 
shape. Porn was out of the question on the slow wifi, 
but reading a couple dirty stories got things primed and 
ready as 9:30 approached. 

I hiked to the cabin, and knocked as the minute hand 
finally clicked straight down. The light in the peephole 
darkened and then the door opened an inch, but remained 
for me to push open. I’d like to say that I hesitated on 
the threshold before going down the final cheating path, 
but I didn’t. I shouldered the door open and strode in.

The lights were low, and there she was, laying across 
the bed in a skimpy robe. The room was neat, but had 
evidence of kids as well as adults. But she hadn’t had 
any kids with her at dinner. She explained that this 
wasn’t her cabin, but rather, was a friend’s, who 
promised she’d be out with her husband for several 
hours, the kids with a babysitter. I swept her from the 
bed and carried her to the already open veranda. The 
night was humid and warm. The water rushed by as the 
moon was rising over the Mediterranean.

“Gorgeous,” she murmured.

But I was all eyes for her. “Not remotely close to as 
beautiful as you,” I said.

The veranda was surprisingly private. We were on the 
side of the ship, and no one above, below, or beside us 
could see into it. And a few hundred miles of open ocean 
lay directly out. I planned to fuck her out there 
eventually, but this was no place to start. I led her 
back inside and while kissing her, pushed the robe down 
over her shoulders. Her breasts were peaked and 
magnificent. 

I buried my face in the cleft between them and took her 
in. I suckled on her nipples, and they became hard 
knobs. The robe fell from her as I untied the knot. She 
sighed as I laid her across the bed, and after hurriedly 
discarding my clothes, spread her legs and put my head 
between them. 

The musky smell was enough to drive me crazy, and I 
didn’t hesitate, but started working her clit with my 
mouth, and penetrated her with my finger. I sawed back 
and forth, between clit and quim until I could tell she 
was on the edge. Juices were flowing. She was ready. I 
slid up and positioned myself, but did not enter. I 
teased her clit for a minute with my cock until she was 
squirming.

“Put it in,” she begged, until I finally complied. I’d 
planned to just flick my cock head in and out a couple 
times, but the second my cock went in, she wrapped her 
legs around my ass and pulled. She was so strong that I 
entered her with a pop and bottomed out. She was so wet 
and hot. She cried out but kept pulling me in. I was 
pushing back. No one got to control my cock but me! Her 
Kegels gripped me like a vise, though, and while I 
managed to pull back, she kept me locked in. 

I had no choice but to hammer forward again, and banged 
my cock against her cervix. She had a look of intense 
concentration on her face. Her strength was unbelievable 
as I started pistoning inside her. I had no choice, 
really. She’d only let me pull back a few inches, before 
she slammed me back into her. I’d never felt anything 
like it. There was no question she wanted it hard from 
me, so I gave it to her. I gripped her shoulders and 
flailed at her for all I was worth. It was like throwing 
up a hard bench press, or murdering some squats. 

I rammed her for all I was worth, and she was in heaven. 
It wasn’t long before she was quivering all over the 
bed. I’d never seen an orgasm like that. She was 
completely out of control. I leaned back and put her 
legs on my shoulders, even while she came and thrust 
even harder. She moaned and thrashed about. I was in 
control now, and was able to take huge strokes, from the 
tip of her clit all the way past her g-spot, and hard 
into her cervix. I was afraid she might pass out, but I 
kept going.

After what seemed like forever, she finally came down. 
“My God,” she said. “What the hell was that?” But she 
gave me that smile and clearly wanted more. I made her 
orgasm with my hands a couple times, and then she 
stroked me back to full hardness. Now it was time for 
the veranda. I led her outside. I kissed her against the 
rail. She leaned back, her long, dark hair catching in 
the breeze. 

The moonlight lit her breasts as she arched back. I 
stroked my cock against her engorged pussy as I enjoyed 
the view of the moon between her breasts. It was warm 
and the air was filled with splashing sounds of the ship 
crashing through the low waves. “I want that thing back 
in me,” she said, her voice husky from the orgasms. I 
turned her around. “Wait,” she said, and disappeared 
back into the cabin. She came immediately back out, 
still completely naked, but with her heels back on.

“Stunning,” I said, as she held onto the rail and 
presented her ass to me, shapely legs accentuated by the 
lift of her tall heels. I’m tall, and the heels lifted 
her ass to just the right height.

“Don’t hold back,” she said. “I need it hard.” In 
reality, there was no need for her to say this because 
the sight of that ass inflamed me like never before. If 
it was hard she wanted, it was hard she was going to 
get. I paused a second, though. Her phone was nearby. I 
grabbed it and took pictures as she wiggled her ass at 
me. The moon reflected off her back, and lit an 
anonymous but beautiful monochrome. Seeing this made my 
cock even harder. It was as hard as I could ever 
remember, looking at her leaning on the rail in those 
shoes. 

I waited not a second longer, and plunged all the way 
into her. She inhaled, but made no other sound as she 
pushed hard back against me. My hands grabbed her hips 
and I slammed into her. I was moving her with my hands 
while thrusting into her as hard as I could. It was hard 
and fast and brutal. I slapped her ass: not a playful 
little thing, but with some energy. It was too dark to 
see the red mark, but I knew it would be there. 

I slapped her ass again and kept pounding into her. She 
kept her knees straight, and looking down, the sight of 
her calves was glorious. Her juices were dripping out of 
her onto the deck. And just like she was able to do on 
the treadmill, she picked up the pace. We were moving 
against each other faster than I’d thought possible. I 
was covered with sweat. And then she came. Her legs gave 
out. I held her up, but was forced to slow down. “Don’t 
stop! I’m coming!” she wailed as the orgasm washed over 
her. I kept burying myself in her over and over as she 
pulsed on my cock. I wasn’t done yet, so I didn't let 
her come down, but kept pounding away until she couldn't 
take any more.

I carried her inside and laid her on the bed. She was 
murmuring gently, the fierceness completely fucked out 
of her. Looking at her stretched out on the bed in bliss 
made me hard, and I simply jacked myself and came all 
over her. She smiled her exquisite smile and rubbed the 
seed into her skin, licking the excess off her fingers. 
My work here was done, so I dressed and slipped out with 
a kiss.

The next morning, she kicked my ass on the treadmill. 
She is so fucking fast! After, I showed off and lifted 
the full stack of weights on some of the cheesy Nautilus 
machines. She looked impressed, but we had to scurry off 
soon after since today we'd docked and had to go 
separately on ridiculously expensive shore excursions 
that simply took you from tourist trap to tourist trap, 
while the guides sipped coffee and took their kickbacks 
from the gift shop owners.

Between shopping, we visited an actual Tourist 
Destination. We marched along behind the guide, 
dutifully following her yellow umbrella. And then I saw 
Leslie. She was with a different group, but at the same 
site. I'd been sending her snapchats as discreetly as 
possible, but hadn't realized she'd be here at the same 
time. I fired a message off saying her boob was showing 
(it wasn't). I saw her blush and check, but then was 
rewarded with her smile. She saw me and winked, then 
turned back to her pudgy husband.

I had to be super careful. My wife really hated it when 
I checked out other women, so was always watching me 
with a hawk's eye. This was obviously well beyond 
"checking someone out.” The current site was a museum in 
a historic building. We were following our leader with 
the yellow umbrella between sections of the museum when 
we passed something that caught my eye. re to meet me. 

My wife alternated between keeping the kids from killing 
each other and listening to her mother prattle on. I 
could get away. I said I needed to find a restroom, and 
walked briskly back the way we’d come. A few minutes 
later, Leslie danced in after getting my message and 
directions.

“Are you fucking crazy?” she said, but with her 
trademark smile. And it was true. I was fucking crazy! 
“What do you have in mind?” she whispered.

Without a word, I swept her into the opening I’d saw 
when we passed by. It was an old fashioned elevator, and 
I’d seen the cage inside, which filled me with ideas. 
I’m sure we weren’t supposed to be in here, and I didn’t 
even care if it worked, but there was an outer door that 
pulled closed with a groan. The inner cage door was 
easier to close and latch. It was old and iron and very 
strong.

She was in heat and was instantly all over me. She 
looked amazing in shorts and a tight tank top. Her legs 
were seriously art, and I’d have loved to just walk with 
her all day watching them every chance I got. But no 
time for that now. The cage was perfect with all kinds 
of places to climb and hold. She peeled off the shorts, 
and by the time I had my pants down, she’d already 
figured out what I had in mind. She grabbed the bars on 
one side, and leaned back, climbing the opposite side of 
the small enclosure with her feet. Her fine breasts were 
splayed out, and her pussy was open and inviting. 

I plunged in immediately. I don’t know how she gripped 
me inside, but it almost knocked me out. I grabbed her 
ass and flailed away at her for all I was worth. The 
cage rocked and rattled, and added to the sensation. It 
was acrobatic and crazy. I’d never felt anything like 
this as she suspended herself above me while I hammered 
into her, my hands never leaving her ass. Soon she was 
arching her back even more. 

I kept going at it for all I was worth until she lost 
control and released the bars and wrapped her arms 
around me instead. I kept pounding into her as she 
twitched and came all over my big cock, her heels locked 
around my ass, pulling me in deeper. I couldn't take it 
any longer and blew my load with her wrapped around me.

When she had stopped shaking, I gently lowered her to 
her feet. "Holy fuck," she said between breaths. "I have 
NEVER felt anything like that before."

I found an old camera cleaning cloth in my bag, and she 
cleaned up as best possible. We put our clothes back on 
and slipped back out to our groups. When I found my 
wife, she made some comment about my digestive system. I 
just smiled and went with it. I noticed my shoe had a 
big glob of my cum on it that had dripped out, but I 
managed to discreetly wipe it off without being seen. It 
did put a shit-eating grin on my face, though, which did 
get noticed, but was easily deflected.

Later, back on the ship, something had gotten my wife 
randy. Maybe it was the statues we'd seen of Greek gods 
or something. It surely wasn't the plodding along after 
our aged cruise ship companions. I came out of the head 
to find her bare ass presented to me. I gulped to wonder 
if my pecker was up to the challenge, after the huge 
load I dropped at the museum. My plan to get her pissed 
off had backfired royally. 

She now WANTED me to rough up her asshole with my cock. 
Never one to pass up a waiting hole, I freed my cock, 
and after making her wet it in her mouth, rammed it into 
her ass. She yelped, but rocked back against me, and 
started frigging her pussy wildly. What kind of monster 
had I unleashed?

I rode her hard, not being exactly quick on the trigger 
after having already come earlier. When she came the 
first time to her fingers, she came so hard she couldn't 
stay on her knees, but fell to the bed. I kept up my 
strokes now astride her as I drove into her ass. The 
pressure on her pussy from the bed and my hard motion 
was soon enough to make her come again, quaking all over 
as I pulled out and sprayed my cum all over her ass and 
back. It was nothing like earlier with Leslie, but my 
wife came harder than I'd seen in years. I guess the 
cruise had helped us turn a new page.

Miserable timing. The problem was that I was hungry for 
Leslie. That bitch had lit something in me that I'd 
never felt before. I couldn't think of anything else but 
finding a way to stick my cock back in her. I had no 
idea if we could really get along in real life, but I 
had to fuck her again. And honestly, want to keep 
fucking her for a long time.

Leslie and I both arranged to meet late the next night. 
My wife was snoring away when I slipped out, and when I 
found her in the ship's excuse for a trendy nightclub, 
she said her husband was off again gambling.

We had some fruity drinks and even did a little dirty 
dancing in the crowd of wasted twenty- and tottering 
seventy-somethings. We talked about a lot of nothing, 
and just generally enjoyed each other's company. She had 
a sarcastic wit that I really loved, and man did she 
look fine in that party dress. Her hair was dangling, 
dark and springy with curls. It was clear she'd spent 
some time putting herself together. Her dark eyes 
flashed in the glittering mood lights of the club. And 
her smile. That smile...

After awhile, the party waned. The music wound down, the 
DJ left, and the lights turned were turned off. I think 
they didn't see us cuddled together in the shadows when 
they shut the place down. We were as quiet as church 
mice until they were gone. It wasn't entirely private: 
someone could walk in, but it was as close as we were 
going to get. I was horny as hell from dancing and 
talking with her, and my cock was painfully confined. 
This got worse as she played a song on her phone and 
started dancing to the tinny sound from the tiny 
speaker. 

Her dancing got progressively more provocative and soon 
she was doing a lap dance on me. She shrugged her 
shoulders out of her dress, exposing a plunging demi-
bra, accentuating those beautiful breasts. In time with 
the music, she unhooked the bra, letting her beauties 
hang free. She wouldn't let me touch them, but gyrated 
over me, and danced. She soon turned around and bent 
over. She was wearing nothing beneath that party dress, 
and I thought I was going to explode at the sight of her 
shaved pussy and exposed asshole.

She finally turned around, lowered herself, and undid my 
pants. My cock sprang free, as big as ever, fully ready 
to do its duty. She licked its head, but refused to take 
me in her mouth. She went back to lap dancing me, but 
now, her party dress was just some decorative fabric 
riding on her hips. She rubbed her slit up and down on 
my cock, but wouldn't let me enter her. She shook her 
breasts in my face to the beat of the music and wiggled 
her ass.

Soon, exactly as she had planned, I couldn't take it 
anymore. I grabbed onto her gyrating hips and stopped 
her motion. I raised her up and simply slammed her down 
on my cock, impaling her to the hilt. "Oh God," she 
said, and proceeded to cum all over my cock. I've never 
seen a woman come so quickly, but all that dancing and 
rubbing her slit on me must have put her on the brink. 
And my huge cock drove her over the edge as it slammed 
into her cervix. She was bucking and quaking as I 
repeatedly lifted and dropped her, while I thrust my 
hips up as hard as I could. 

It made a wet slapping sound --almost a splash-- as her 
sopping pussy took my entire length. None of her 
vocalization formed actual words, but she was far from 
quiet. I was worried we'd soon have security all over 
us, but was past caring and thrust away while she 
twitched and flailed.

After a few minutes of this, I bent her over a nearby 
table, her breasts pressed flat by the hard surface, her 
legs shaky, but made beautiful by her spiky heels. I 
didn't want to her to come down from her cum all the 
way, so I efficiently worked my well-lubricated cock 
into her tight ass. Her cum started again, even harder, 
as I drove inside her. With a spare hand, I rubbed her 
clit and she drove back against me hard. Fuck, this 
bitch was hot. Even while cumming, she still wanted 
more. And harder.

When she'd calmed down, I paused my attack and laid her 
down gently on a padded bench. I kissed her and looked 
her deeply in the eyes as I fucked her with long, slow 
strokes. She was trembling and pulled and pushed my ass 
and hips just so, making sure I was contacting her in 
all the right places. The intimacy was too much, and I 
could feel my cum starting to rise. The thing that gets 
me off the very most is pleasing a woman, and this deep 
connection that can be had only through really 
satisfying sex. And with this thought, I came deep 
inside her. I jerked and spasmed as seemingly gallons of 
the stuff pumped out of me. She held me tight and I 
could feel her pussy lapping up my juices.

I wanted her forever. I wanted to sleep with her, and 
not have to run off from some cheesy pseudo-nightclub to 
find a place to clean up and retreat back to cramped--
and separate--cabins.

My wife wanted fat sex from me the next morning, but I 
groaned and rolled over and went back to sleep. She'd 
get over it. I might not. I was sick of fat, boring, 
unathletic, unimaginitive sex. Sex where I had to come 
up with it if there was anything interesting to be had.

The cruise was ending and we had to be out early, and I 
messaged Leslie to see if she could get away, even for a 
few minutes. She said she was really late getting packed 
and couldn't. I should have seen the signs, but I have 
to say that it really blindsided me. I messaged her 
again a bit later, but didn't hear anything back. We 
made our way off the ship, the kids bickering, my 
mother-in-law bitching, my wife bitching back--in other 
words, complete normality. But I was elsewhere, 
swiveling my head frantically, trying to catch a glimpse 
of Leslie.

Finally I did, as we were collecting suitcases. She was 
way ahead of us in line, and was nearly though the 
security checkpoint, as we languished behind great-
grandparents tottering behind walkers and hefty families 
with gigantic loads of luggage. She gave me her 
beautiful smile, blew me a kiss, and was gone. At least 
I was left with the memory of that smile. But my wife 
saw it. "Did that woman blow you a kiss?" she said. I 
said I had no idea and that it must have been for 
someone behind us. I didn't much care if she believed 
me. I had a horrible feeling. Before, it had been panic 
at trying to find her, now it was something akin to 
despair.

It was only later that I received a long message from 
her. The cruise was an annual tradition where she sowed 
her wild oats with a stranger and then went back to her 
normal life. While her husband wasn't completely aware, 
he had a vague impression, and traded it for annual 
gambling time. A vice for a vice, after which they went 
back to their normal upper, upper middle-class life. 
Leslie wasn't really her name, and the messaging account 
was a throwaway.

I realized later, as I tried to track her down, that 
nothing she'd told me about herself was true: city, 
occupation, etc. I had no way to find her. She could 
have been anywhere in the US--or the world--for all I 
knew. I only had memories.

I never again had a fuck anything like her, and 
faithfully resumed mushy, fat sex with my wife. It was 
better than getting divorced. In times when things were 
too boring and I couldn't cum, I'd just imagine myself 
fucking Leslie. In the elevator. On the veranda. In the 
nightclub. And I'd cum and cum.

Or I'd just make my wife flip over and fuck her hard in 
the ass. That worked, too.
 
END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with 
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't 
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than a 
trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 84