The Big Bang! Theory - A fourth--and final--short, erotic encounter of the Judy Banger kind (11 page)

She blinked. "Are you
thinking...stripper?"

"Now, I am."

She kicked off her shoes
and pivoted on one heel, presenting her back. "Unzip,
please."

Wiley had been married a
long time. He was a pro at unzipping. This time he let his fingers
linger at the top of the neckline even as he wiggled the small
plastic zipper down the length of her spine. When it reached the
bottom, he leaned over and kissed her shoulders from left to right.
She shivered and let out a little peep.

He liked that she didn't
try to hide her feelings.

"Your skin is so soft. And
you smell like flowers. What kind?"

"Lavender lotion. No
perfume. Mom's allergic."

Thoughtful.
Endearing.
He brushed his nose back and
forth, inhaling the faint scent. "I like it."
I like you.

"What else do you like?"
She spun around, her fingers to her lips. "O...M...G, as they say.
Did that sound like hooker-speak or what?"

Her cheeks flushed
crimson.

"Yeah, it did. And I'm not
against a little role-playing, but maybe we should keep this simple
our first time out."

He said our
first
time,
Judy thought. First implied there'd be
more--possibly even many. Although technically, given her plan to
move, a hint at any sort of future should have sent up an armada of
red flags, instead, her nerves settled down. "Simple
works."

She let go of her dress,
which she'd clutched to her chest like a baby's blankie. She hadn't
had time to shower after leaving Heritage House, but she had
changed into her prettiest underwear...just in case. "Always wear
nice undies when you're going somewhere important, Judy," Mom had
preached. What could be more important than meeting the man of her
dreams--literally?

Or was she putting the
proverbial horse's you-know-what before the cart? Yes, Wiley's
equipment was impressive, but did he know how to use the male
divining rod as God intended--to pleasure women?

There was only one way to
find out.

She stepped to his
king-size bed and sat, legs splayed. "Your turn." She made a
twirling motion with her finger. "Make it interesting. And, by the
way, I saw Magic Mike three times." Once in the theater with Pru,
actually. The other two involved her vibrator and YouTube clips of
the hottest dance moves. She wasn't expecting Tatum Channing, but
she was curious to see how Wiley handled the scrutiny.

He hesitated a moment then
shrugged, as if the verdict was moot. He'd dumped his suit coat and
tie when they first entered his house. His sleeves were rolled
back, so he started at the bottom and worked his way up.
Shoes--kicked carelessly across the room. One...two...socks
disposed of efficiently. Belt hissed through pant loops to sprawl
gracelessly near the open door of his walk-in closet. As he
unzipped his pants, he made eye contact.

The twinkle in his eyes
made her grin. He was having fun. A thought struck her.
He doesn't have fun often.
A warm slurry of tenderness blossomed in her chest.

She ran the tip of her
tongue back and forth across her lips.

Zip.

Drop.

Step.

"Nice Jockeys." Dark red,
low on his hip, thigh-hugging. "You could jog in those," she said,
checking him out thoroughly. "If it weren't for the bulge, that
is."

He adjusted his junk before
unbuttoning his shirt. "I agree. It's not easy to jog with a
hard-on. Happened to me this morning, in fact." His fingers paused
at the halfway mark. "I was thinking about you," he said. "Your
hands on my cock. Your tits in my mouth. Remind me, again, why
didn't we fuck last night?"

His language surprised--no,
shocked--her. Not just the words, but also his husky,
take-no-prisoners tone. Her juices started percolating. She rubbed
her middle finger up and down against the silky material covering
the mound at the juncture of her thighs. Did she wish she'd worked
a little harder on leg exercises this week so her thighs weren't
quite so chubby? Of course. But, lucky for her, Wiley didn't seem
to give a damn about a few--okay, twenty...um, thirty--extra
pounds. He was turned on and ready to rock and roll. In fact, his
hard-on would have split less stretchy material, she
noticed.

He can split me in two any
time he wants.

She slipped her bra strap
over one shoulder and gave a tug so her breast nearly spilled out
of the underwire and satin restraining it. Inhaling deeply, the
dense, heavy flesh swelled, exposing the ruddy circle of
areola.

Wiley made an all-male
sound of horny, "Oh, yeah, baby" lust. He yanked off his shirt,
struggling a moment when the sleeves bunched at his elbows. Fabric
ripped. A button shot past her knee. He dumped the cloth in a heap
on the floor as he dropped to his knees.

"I wanted to do this last
night," he said, moving into position between her legs.

He started at her left
knee, nuzzling, seeking, and finding a tender, ticklish spot she
didn't know existed. Her legs felt as useless as broken rubber
bands until his big, powerful hands massaged the muscles, working
toward her center.

He kissed her inner thighs,
slowly zeroing in on the apex, which Judy still lazily teased. When
he reached the elastic of her panties, he nipped at the fabric and
inhaled deeply. Heat and desire shot outward like a sunburst,
making her heart stutter. He could have taken her then she was so
ready, but he deliberately moved on, tickling her inner thigh with
his tongue.

"N...nice," she said, her
head lolling back. She eased onto her elbows and closed her eyes to
focus on the sensations.

If he applied the same
technique, teeth and tongue, on her clitoris, she'd climax in
seconds. She wanted it, but she also hoped to save the big shebang
for when he was inside her. The likelihood of two orgasms in one
sexual encounter--especially, a first time--seemed unlikely...much
as she'd like to try.

"Oh," she cried coming
partway up to see him rub his face across the pastel pink satin of
her bikini triangle.

He hooked a finger under
one skinny strand of fabric and pulled it aside to expose her bush
of ginger curls. His smile echoed the one-word praise.
"Pretty."

Apparently, he had
multi-tasking down to a science because he somehow managed to
nuzzle, nip and taste while cleverly removing her panties without
any real effort on her part. Once they were disposed of, he spread
the lips of her labia and used his tongue to coax her clitoris out
of hiding. Heat spread outward. Wet and eager, she wiggled inviting
more.

One finger or two? She
didn't check. Whatever the number, the contact lifted her butt off
the bed, and she cried out, "Oh, yeahehehe." She used the newly
toned muscles of her thighs to arch and push against his hand,
grinding in rhythm to her pulsing need.

He slowed and stopped,
shoving his hand beneath her to still her movement so he could put
his mouth where his fingers had been. His tongue explored. Glib.
Adroit. Gifted. With his free hand, he used his middle finger to
lightly tease her girl button in tiny, maddening circles. The
combination of sensations pulled her in every direction, building
the forces of desire toward a focal point of bright light. She
slipped her breasts free of their cups and worked her nipples
between her fingers, pinching, pulling. That little bit of extra
sensation shot her straight into the orgasmic
stratosphere.

"Holy crap," she shouted,
breathlessly. "Wiley. Yes. Yes."

He hadn't asked a question
but his tongue was the answer and she hoped the contractions
pulsing in her core validated his heroic efforts.

"If that was payback for
last night, you win. A thousand times over."

She flopped back, chest
heaving, heart racing, eyes closed...so she didn't see him until he
was on top of her. Full body contact, although his feet were still
on the floor so he didn't squish her. Was that even possible? She
was no wilting violet.

She squeezed her arms
around him and nuzzled his neck. "That was wonderful."

He pulled back enough to
kiss her. "They call that foreplay, darlin'. The main course has
yet to arrive."

"Make it arrive faster,"
she mumbled against his lips. God, the man could kiss, and the
smell and taste of her pussy on his face made the tingle of desire
start to rebuild. Not that she expected the next course to be
anywhere near as delicious as the first.
Maybe this is what people mean when they say eat dessert
first.

He rolled them sideways
then pushed up sitting. "Sheets? Pillows? A headboard for
leverage?" he asked with a wink. "Oh, and a few less
clothes."

Judy sat up, too. "Good
idea." She started to reach around to unfasten her bra hooks, but
he stopped her. "Allow me."

She turned sideways,
expecting a quick pop. Instead, he took his time, exploring her
back, massaging her muscles, working his hands around her sides to
cup and squeeze her breasts. Forehead resting between her shoulder
blades, he explored her body with touch, a blind man reading her
shape in braille.

His fingers worked her
nipples into taut, turned-on points that craved a mouth...his
mouth. She wriggled her core against the mattress, her need
building again.

"You're so beautiful," he
said, his hands touching her everywhere, face, breasts, belly,
between her legs. "Inside and out."

No one had ever said that
to her. The depth of her feelings threatened to overwhelm her. She
covered his hands, inhaling deeply, committing the feeling to
memory. She'd never felt more cherished. No love words had passed
between them, but she felt loved. And the feeling changed
everything.

She helped him remove his
shorts. When they were both naked, they silently pulled back the
spread and blanket then met in the middle of the bed, advancing on
knees to face each other.

Wiley stared at her for
several seconds overcome by the enormity of options open to them.
The look in Judy's eyes said anything was possible. Anything his
heart desired.

He plumped the pillows
against the headboard and sat, legs straight. "I don't want to miss
a minute of this," he said. "I want to see, touch and suck while my
cock's buried deep inside you."

"Sounds good to
me."

She threw one leg over his
lap but left a small gap between them. "First, I need to make sure
you're ready. Really ready."

He fondled her breasts
while she fondled--no...wrong word--while she set his manhood on
fire. Her fingernails clawed gently but with enough conviction to
make him swallow a gasp. Next, she used a hand-over-hand technique
that never did that much for him in the past. But something about
Judy's hands, milking him with an extra little twist at the end of
the yank, nearly made him shoot his wad.

He leaned forward to frame
her hips with his hands. "I need to be inside you. There's a rubber
on the side table. Do you want to put it on? Or should
I?"

Even watching her reach for
the little square package turned him on. How anyone could consider
her too heavy was beyond him? She fit her body perfectly and her
body fit him--or would in a moment--just right.

She tore open the package,
tossed the wrapper in the general direction of the end table then
briskly sheathed him. "Ready?" she asked, lifting up so her crotch
hovered about his fully engorged penis.

"Beyond ready. I hope I
don't embarrass myself like last night."

She dipped her head and
kissed him sweetly. "We're human beings, Wiley. Sex--like life--is
messy. But if you're having fun then there's no judging, no shame.
Only pleasure." She reached between them to line up his phallus and
her wonderfully wet, slippery opening.

Inch by splendid freaking
inch, she accepted him. As tempting as it was to close his eyes and
let her movements take him over the brink, he stayed focused on her
face. She bit her bottom lip and moaned each time she "bottomed
out" on his saddle. She filled her hands with breast meat and
offered him one to suckle.

"I love how you suck,
Wiley," she said with a groan. "Stuff's buildin' and brewin' down
deep inside me. I hope you're ready because I think I'm going
to...oh, yes...oh, god. Bite now. Harder. Oh, Wiley.
Oh."

She nearly shot off his
dick with that last cry, but Wiley gripped her hips. When she rose
up, so did he and when she came down, they came together. His
release hit hard and fast peaking with one final thrust into her
pulsing core. The after-quakes wrung him dry. He'd never been with
a woman who pulled every last drop of cum from him.

His brain stopped
functioning beyond its basic life support needs. Words of
gratitude, surprise, love spilled into his mind but never made it
to his lips, which were too busy kissing her face, her hair, her
lips, the tears from her eyes.

"Are you
crying?"

"Big emotions do this to
me," she said. "Pru blames menopause. But don't worry. I'm not
sad." She kissed him. "I'm happy. Really, really happy. How 'bout
you?"