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I climbed in and straddled him, well tried to, but the seat was narrow and I couldn't get my knees far enough down alongside either the door or the centre console. The more I tried to push down as he lifted my boobs out of my bra and rolled my top up to expose them and my nipples to his hands and mouth, so the more my head pressed against the roof. I came to the conclusion that it was impossible to fuck in a Porsche; a major design fault, but then it is a German car.
I climbed out. I knelt beside the car. He played with my tits as I took his cock in my hand and licked its length. I swallowed him deep into my mouth; he tasted good. As I sucked and licked him, so he started to fuck my mouth. We found a perfect rhythm. It got faster, more urgent and demanding and his thrusts got deeper and fuller.
"Oh Amanda," he groaned.
"What?"
"I am so near."
I knew what he was staying. Men with good manners and consideration are like that. They are inviting the woman to take him out of their mouth. I held him firmer and redoubled my sucking efforts. Suddenly he groaned, his body shuddered, he gripped me tightly, one hand in my hair, the other on my left boob and then my mouth was filled with the gushing, youthful torrent of his cum.
More soul searching.
It was getting worse. Or better. Who knows? My sex with Craig was becoming wilder, more daring and adventurous. I tried to understand myself; both the fact that I was fucking a kid and what I wanted from him. I knew what I didn't want, that was easy. I didn't want love and real affection, I didn't want companionship and dates, I didn't need him to be considerate and caring. They were things one gets from a lover, a partner or a husband and, in most ways Kevin provided them, well he used to before we parted.
Craig supplied something else. He fulfilled another need. A need that I was having difficulty defining, which wasn't really surprising for until we had sex that first time I wasn't even aware that I had the need. Even now, three fucks and a mouth shag into my 'fling' with him, I couldn't define it.
A need for adventure? Maybe. A desire to be wanted? Unlikely. Being found attractive by a young Adonis? No not really. Boredom a relief from the tedium? Partly. A wish to experience someone other than my husband? Yes, but why with a boy?
None of my anguished analysis really got me anywhere. The only conclusions I reached were that I wanted Craig purely for sex, nothing more. But why I wanted him at all, I couldn't fathom. However, I was beginning to reach a not fully thought out conclusion that scared me a little. I was discovering a different side to myself, an alternative me. On the face of things I was a highly respectable, middle class woman, a bulwark of middle England, a stalwart of what a businessman's wife and the mother of his child should be. I had been like that all my life, particularly my married period. I hadn't strayed much or even really been tempted although I'd had many opportunities. Kevin and I enjoyed a spirited, but by no means 'kinky' or alternative sex life, we didn't swing, share partners or cheat. We weren't into S & M, bondage, pain, dressing up, spanking or anything away from the mainstream. We were just straightforward and, I guess 'normal.'
Well I had been. What I was starting to realise was that it was just that 'normality' that may well have created my need for Craig. I still wasn't able to rationalise 'the why' fully, but what was forming in my mind was 'the how.' If I was going to stray from my marriage vows then it had to be big time. I didn't just want a one night stand with someone like me. No I wanted a fling with a complete opposite to me and my husband and friends. I didn't want a gentle seduction, dinner then a nice bed with low lights, soft music and tender lovemaking. No I wanted something extreme; I wanted to be screwed up against a wall, still half dressed. I wanted to be fucked in another man's bed. I wanted sex in a public place, a place I would return to and stand there with other people around knowing I had been fucked right there. Yes they were my needs and they were somewhat different, but, it hit me hard one day, they may well have been quite similar to Kevin's.
I know it didn't make sense, fully, but t
hen what to do with sex does? It's a drive we all have to differing degrees and none of us really understands it fully, but I was trying and thought I was getting there. However, I had to acknowledge that I was probably developing, or suffering from a sort of split personality, the Jekyl and Hyde syndrome.
More Craig smut.
I used Kevin's Rangerover for the next match a week or so after the incident in the Porsche. That, incidentally, had ended on a humorous note. When I got home around eight thirty, Sara and the babysitter Carline were there. As I poured myself a drink, my daughter suddenly said.
"Mum why are your knees dirty?"
They didn't get dirty in the Rangerover, when Craig next fucked me though. In fact he fucked me twice within an hour; it was the first time he had proved his stamina and recovery powers to me, I was impressed and I wanted more.
Our club is in a forest, it is surrounded on all sides by trees and a quite heavily wooded area. It was mid- afternoon in mid-week, a Thursday I think. It wasn't busy at the club, just half a dozen members and none of Craig's mates all of whom must have been at uni or working. It wasn't a sunny day, but it was dry and reasonably warm, about seventy I guess, with no wind, great tennis weather.
"Come on," he said after we had been practising and were sitting drinking orange juice on the balcony outside the bar overlooking the six courts.
"Where?"
"Let's go for a walk," he replied, smiling.
"Where?"
He nodded towards the woods. That actually made my heart leap a bit for I knew it wasn't just a walk that he was inviting me on.
"You go first, then I'll go out to my car," I said, aware at how nosy people can be.
"God you look fucking raunchy today," Craig said pulling me into his arms and kissing me hard, when we reached a nice thick part of the woods a couple of hundred yards from the club. I was wearing a fairly tight, sleeveless, white top and a pink, also quite tight, very short, silky tennis skirt. I had a nice tan on my legs, arms, shoulders and chest.
"No different to usual," I managed to gasp as my body responded to the way his body had already reacted. His erection felt lovely pressed against my stomach.
"Over here," he said grabbing my hand and pulling me under a large tree, an oak I think, with wide branches that created a canopy. It felt more secluded.
He pressed me back against the huge trunk of the tree and we kissed. He moved his arms, which had been round me, grabbed my wrists, raised them and rested them on the tree trunk above my head. He continued kissing me and squashing my boobs with his chest for a while, but then he broke the kiss. Arching his back and leaning his upper body away from me he looked right into my eyes and started to grind his cock against my pubic mound. I writhed back at it. It was something I had never done before and it felt fantastic, particular when our squirming and writhing brought the bottom of his cock in contact with my clit, which must have found its way out from the folds that usually protected it from such stimulation. He brought our hands down with his still holding my wrists. He pressed my hands onto my boobs and squeezed my fingers so they were squeezing my own flesh through the thin top and bra.
"Let me see you play with your tits Amanda," he said quietly.
