Mystery Solved

Okay, everyone who had,"she's a space alien who seeks to steal human genetic material via a tiny lab located where her cunt would be," raise your hands. Good. You're wrong. Very, very wrong. But it was an interesting guess.

In case I haven't been clear (and I haven't) I'm talking about Annie, my erstwhile handjob partner. You can read the other parts of this particular saga here (part 1 and part 2). No, she's not an alien. Nor is she a post-op transsexual. Or secretly underage. Or any of the other Machiavellian schemes I could come up with. She's just a bit strange in the sexuality department.

We were invited out for a party to Annie's house, and I was a bit concerned because I thought I'd be meeting her husband and things might get awkward. What if she'd told him everything? What if he suspected? What if he were a total asshole? A lot of conflicting thoughts there. I almost didn't go, with the excuse that I had too much work to do, etc. I'm not a particularly party person as has been established, and often enough I let the actors go off and be social and wave goodbye. But this cast has been a nice one to work with, and they convinced me to go, and at a certain point I couldn't not go without it seeming strange, so I went.

As it turns out, I needn't have worried; he wasn't there. I had a nice time hanging out with people for a little while; it wasn't a party really, just an informal get-together. It was a weekday, so everyone didn't want to stay out too late, and things broke up after a while. I was all set to head out, but Annie pulled me aside and said, "Stick around." It was really just like that. So I let everyone else trickle out, made some excuse about finding my jacket or using the bathroom, and when everyone else was gone, found Annie sitting on her sofa pulling off her pants. She really moves like lightning when things are moving.

Much as I wanted to just leap in there, rip my clothes off, and do whatever it was she wanted to do (I may have been slightly sated by my weekend, but my sex drive is a never-ending series of ravening whines at this point) I forced myself to stay put. "Okay, Annie, before we do whatever it is you want to do," I said, and grinned to show that I was totally at her mercy as far as commands were concerned. She smiled back and patted the sofa beside her. "But before that, I've got to know. What's going on?"

"What's going on with what?"

"With... this. All this. I mean, I don't mind it at all, but you're married, and you've been acting like nothing happened, and..." I may have babbled a bit more. Coherence is not my middle name. Not in situations like this, anyway. Confrontation isn't my middle name either.

"Oh, sorry, I thought you didn't mind."

"I don't, I said I don't, but I'd just like to know where I stand. Should I be worried about your husband finding out? What's going on?"

She gave me this confused look herself. "Worried about my husband? He's not here."

"Yes, but in future. Does he know about this?"

She looked shocked then. "No! Of course not. You think I tell him stuff like this?"

"I've had it happen." That's true. "And I don't want to be a home-wrecker or anything like that."

"Oh, no, nothing like that. David knows I have needs, and he's okay with that."

Now we were getting somewhere. I finally sat down. "So he's okay with you wanting to sleep with women?"

She blushed a little. It's so odd, how shy she is. "Nothing like that," she said. "He just knows that I like to do things that he can't do."

"The two of you don't have sex at all?"

She looked shocked again. "Of course we do. It's just... not enough for me, I guess. For a long time..." She stopped and looked embarrassed.

"It's okay, I know the feeling," I said with a little laugh, trying to diffuse the situation. "One man isn't enough for me either."

"Oh! You never said anything about having a man."

"I'm bi."

"Oh." That seemed to explain it for her. "I guess I'm that too. I don't know why I'm telling you all this. I figured we could just have a bit of fun, you know. Not have to worry about it so much."

"How did you know to try it with me?"

"I didn't. The last woman I tried to pick up rejected me. I guess I just got lucky." I'm not sure I believe her. She must have heard something. But I didn't press the issue.

"So you've had other women?"

"Some." She kept coy about the number. "David is the only man I love, the only man I want to be with. But he... early on, it seemed like we might get a divorce because I just needed it too much and he couldn't give it to me. I tried to talk him into having... you know, with another woman too, but he's traditional." Suddenly it was like she wasn't talking to me, really, just getting stuff off her chest. "If he thought I was seeing another man, he'd do something horrible, I just know it. And I love him. It seemed like maybe we'd break up, even though we loved each other, until finally he said he didn't want to know if I was doing things, but for the sake of the marriage I could do them. I guess I could probably get another man too, if he never found out, but that would be like cheating on him. With you, it's just like... I don't know." She laughed and blushed again. "Why am I telling you all this stuff? I just wanted to have a good time. I'm sorry the first time you didn't get anything in return, and I guess I'm sorry you've been confused."

"That's okay." It wasn't, really, but it sort of had to be. "So... just fingers, or now that we're in more comfortable surroundings..."

"I don't know," she said, laughing and blushing again. She's got this girlish quality to her, despite her age (not that I'm implying she's ancient, just that she's too old to be a girl any more, as am I). "When you kissed me... I felt a little guilty."

"I won't do it again then."

"No... it's okay. I guess it's okay." She sighed. "The thing is... I need new things. Doing it with David, it's always wonderful because of the love, but it doesn't always... you know, make me feel as good as other things do. He's traditional." She sighed again and then without much fanfare pulled her top over her head, and there she was in bra and panties, both lace, both very sexy. Her breasts are smaller than I expected, and the one area of her body that isn't toned seems to be her upper arms; they betray some flab. But I'm not an arm fetishist, and she looked very nice. "I... I don't think I could do it on our bed," she said, jolting me out of my reverie. "I've never even done it in the house before."

"We can go somewhere else, I guess, if you want..."

"No, it's fine, just sorry about not being on a bed." She reached around and unhooked her bra, slipped it off. Her breasts show signs of drooping too, although when she was a teenager they must have been just about the perkiest things ever. Large reddish nipples which were out of character with her looks, a bit lower than they must have been in their heyday, but still perfectly fine. A realistic set of breasts. I enjoy real.

Then she leaned over and let me kiss her. It was a bit strange, but that's what it was like; she leaned in, and then presented herself to be kissed. It was underwhelming, as far as kisses go, and I stopped after a moment because it didn't seem worth it to make her awkward. Instead, I moved my hands to her breasts and cupped them, feeling the nipples rise under my palms. I squeezed them lightly, then complimented her on them, which she took with a blush and a giggle.

"Can I taste them?" I asked, checking boundaries, and she nodded eagerly this time, then arched her back a little. I couldn't help myself; I kissed my way down her neck to her breasts, then took each in turn in my mouth, licking over the pebbled surface of her excited nipple, smelling that perfume again. She sighed and shifted down slightly, and her breathing picked up tempo.

I was still fully dressed and she was in nothing but her panties, but I went lower and kissed just above her belly button impishly, then eased myself to the floor and reached up to hook her panties and slip them off. Her thighs are really just gorgeous, and I kissed each of them for a while, feeling the heat between them rising. I saw her slip a finger down and stroke herself lightly, and I cheekily pushed my head in to give her a quick kiss before standing up again. "Do you mind if I get more comfortable?" I asked, and she nodded, so I slipped my clothes off rapidly, not bothering with sensuality, and then sat naked next to her again. "Seriously, if anything other than fingers makes you uncomfortable..."

"No... I liked when you licked me," she said with a small smile. "I don't know if I can do the same for you..."

"If you don't want to..."

"I'll try." And then she threw herself into it like she was jumping into cold water. Not a reaction I like to see, because I don't like people to have to force themselves to pleasure me, but I wasn't going to stop her. She kissed me, with the same strange awkwardness, then moved to my breasts and suckled at them with the lack of skill of someone who hasn't put her mouth on a tit since she was a baby, if even then. I let her work out her obvious feelings of awkwardness on my nipples for a while, until I was afraid she'd leave marks, then I tried to be as nice as possible in giving her a few pointers.

Then it seemed like she was going to go for the main event, and I confess that I was slightly worried she would try to use her teeth on my clit or something, in her earnestness, but instead, when she got between my legs and started kissing me, it was like she'd been born to eat cunt. She was one of the best first-timers I've ever had. She was hesitant until I encouraged her with some moans and yeses, but even in hesitation, she had a delicate touch of both tongue and lips which teased my clitoris from her hiding place in record time, then teased me over the edge, surprising me. She only really worked the outside to begin with, and when I came the first time she didn't even seem to notice, which with a more assertive technique might have been a problem, but with her little delicate touches was wonderful. So many people stop when they see they've gotten me off, and that's the last thing you ought to do.

She got a finger working the inside and that delicate touch on the outside, and when I hit stride and was about to go for number two, I realized that I'd better give her some kind of sign otherwise she might assume that she had to go on for ever. So I amped up number two a bit, then pulled her up again and said, "That was wonderful. Just wonderful." Which was the truth.

I kissed her again because I couldn't help it, and this time she responded a little better, so we cuddled for a moment, then I slipped my finger down between her legs and started stroking her while we kept kissing. That seemed to awaken in her the idea that kissing could be an enjoyable part of the process, and she opened up even more, letting me run my tongue across hers, our breaths mingling. I finally was the one who broke away, as her pussy was getting so hot and wet it was obvious she was in dire need. Ordinarily, I might have postponed things a bit with some more foreplay, but in this case she was read to go, so I moved immediately between her legs and started working on her, finger curling up against the front of her pussy, tongue licking and tickling.

You can be the greatest lover in the world (and I'm not in any way saying I am) and still not really know what to do with a new partner, particularly if she's not terribly communicative. I tried to take my cues from her responses, but in the end she was probably better at eating me out than I was at eating her out. That's okay; I'm not really all that proud. It bruises the ego slightly to be outplayed by a novice, but the pleasure more than made up for it. And there was that damned perfume again, which got in my nose and obscured her very enjoyable smells and tastes. Still, I managed, and since we weren't in a location where anyone was likely to hear us, she gave much fuller voice to her satisfaction, was much less inhibited, and when she came, although it was the same quiet tension and release, it seemed like she was able to enjoy herself more. I kept going through, easing up a bit at the end, then started in again, until she begged me to stop. "One's my limit," she said, skin flushed, eyes sparkling.

"Are you sure?" I asked with a wicked grin.

"I get really tender after. Maybe in a little bit."

So we sat and cooled off. She offered to go down on me again, but I said that wouldn't be fair, although I did let her reach over and put her fingers inside me. But she looked beat, and in the end I gently took her hand away, spread my legs, and stroked myself to orgasm while she watched, mildly enthusiastic but really unable to do anything about it. "Well..." I said finally.

"Well..." she said. And for some reason, the weight of it all must have hit us at the same time. Before I knew what was going on, I was curious but didn't feel anything particularly bad about having done things. When I found out, I guess I didn't get a chance to process things. But after, I suddenly took it all in and felt bad about it. I don't know why; I didn't feel guilty so much as I felt bad for her, for having to be in her situation. She just looked tired, but maybe she was feeling guilty, for having gone farther than she intended maybe? I don't know. In the end, it was late and after a bit of small talk, I started to get my clothes on while she ran for a robe so she could see me out.

It didn't get awkward at the end, just a bit sad or something. She gave me a kiss on the cheek at the door, and said she was really glad I'd stayed. I said I'd be happy to come over some other time. She said she'd think about it.

Now I'm not sure what will happen. I'm still slightly curious about her, because even if I know what's going on, she acts in a way which is contrary to the way she is normally, when she wants to have sex with me. And most of the time she behaves like nothing has happened. Maybe that'll be different now. But she's so shy ordinarily; picturing her propositioning anyone would not enter into your mind, I promise you, if you saw her. And she's so matter-of-fact about it, but she's strangely prudish in her sensibilities for someone who knows what they want and goes after it the way she does. And then there's the whole thing with her marriage. I don't know what it is she needs that he doesn't give her. Maybe he's a once-a-week-Sunday kind of guy. Or maybe he can't make her cum. Or any number of things. And he's "traditional." What does that mean, exactly? I have an idea, but... yeah, there's a lot of mystery still.

I imagine that, once this show is over, the whole thing will dry up and she'll move on to someone else. Maybe not. But from her talk of novelty, I wonder how long she can keep it up. Will moving on to someone else be enough, or will she eventually have to escalate to things she swore she'd never do? Will the whole thing tear the marriage apart because eventually she won't be able to get by on surreptitiousness? It's not a healthy situation. I wish I could help her, in some odd way, even though I'm not a sex-therapist. I don't like it when people are in situations like that. It's unfortunate that it seems to be the norm rather than the exception in our culture.

Communication, kids. It's not just a college major.