An Urbane Man



Two women and twelve months of pleasure

He came for dinner one evening and over the course of the meal I realised that my husband was gradually growing colder towards this guest. I knew the signs although the other visitors had been totally unaware of any change in Michael’s manner. Later, and once he had rather too hurriedly pumped his cum into my receptive vagina then rolled onto his side, I finally heard the reason.

‘My daughter couldn’t take her eyes off him.”

‘Perhaps that’s not surprising considering he is her visiting lecturer.’

Fearing the consequences I had tried to pour cold water on his justified feelings. Flora had all but drooled over her new tutor.

‘But I reckon there might be more to it than that.’

And with those prophetic words he turned away soon to be fast asleep leaving me to gloat on the visitor.

Martin Summers had proved to be an interesting person. He was a Professor over from an Ivy League University on a twelve month exchange, about my age, and attractive in his way but definitely rough at the edges. No, he was more than slightly rough. Martin had a broken nose, a cauliflower ear (he had explained that these were both souvenirs of college football but I reckoned he was a bit of a bruiser), a muscular middleweight boxer’s build and unkempt hair. But he had innate charm, in fact so much charm that my fingers were stroking my clit which had been erect in his honour all that night.

I was now on my stomach with my hand under my body, head turned away from the man at my side. My long legs were stretched out with my feet locked over the foot of the mattress although my fingers were not yet at my G-spot. They were still teasing my tiny erection but it wouldn’t be long before I got down to the serious part of my self pleasure routine.

It seems Martin was not from a “moneyed background” as he described those of his acquaintances who were in the positions of power back in his University. He was what American’s would describe as “from the other side of the tracks” and had pulled himself up to his present eminence with the aid of a sporting scholarship.

Was he already fucking my husband’s daughter? I didn’t think so given his so recent arrival and that the pair of us were on such close terms, but did she want to? Had she already entertained the idea? Was she lying in her bed at this very moment and doing the same as her step-mother?

Later I came in a rush with thigh muscles rigid but without noise, or at least as quietly as I could manage. Okay there might have been a noticeable disturbance as my hips bucked four times, maybe five, but it seemed that nothing would wake Michael Thomas once he was asleep. It never had before and this occasion was no different.


‘That all went off well, I thought.’

Flora Thomas and I were having a late breakfast but she wasn’t paying any attention so I was forced to repeat my comment and eventually got a hostile reply.

‘Last night went off well, I reckon.’

‘At least you both got to reminisce about your homeland.’

Oh-ho, did I detect a touch of jealousy. Best policy, as always with Flora, was to let it go and not rise to the bait. So my later attempt to change the subject was still-born when Flora continued.

‘I’ve got a tutorial with Martin on Monday.’

‘Oh yes,’ I kept my voice light, ‘one to one?’


She was miles away in anticipation of that “tete a tete” but to me her face was like an open book. Flora was deeply in lust if not quite love. This was an unusual occasion as my step-daughter normally had no time for men despite attracting them like bees to honey.

In fact Flora was a honey pot. At twelve years younger than me, twenty two at her last birthday, and at present in the middle of her postgraduate master’s degree the young woman had inherited her dead mother’s sensuality and Spanish/Arabic appearance. But also the innate fiery temperament which often resulted in me dealing with my step-daughter as if walking on egg shells.


Martin Summers rang shortly after Flora had gone into town. I was glad she was absent because at the first sound of his voice my nipples hardened and I had involuntarily grabbed at my pussy.

‘I’m ringing to say thank you for the meal. It was very kind of you to invite me.’

‘Not at all, it’s the least we could do for our daughters professor.’

He added more pleasantries before ringing off but there was no way I would remember the rest of the conversation. I was so sexually turned on that I blindly locked Antep Bayan Escort myself in the cloakroom and masturbated twice in quick succession.


It was Wednesday before I met Martin again and that was quite by chance.

‘Mrs Thomas, we meet again.’

His eyes twinkled as we virtually bounced off each other outside a bookshop which he had just left. He reached over his books to help me retain my balance and the grip of his hand on my arm sent pulses straight to my all of a sudden moist vagina.

‘Do you fancy a drink?’

He lead my un-resistant body into a nearby coffee shop and ordered espresso for us both.

We sat at a small table, so restricted that my knee was virtually in his crotch and my speech was instantly affected. But it mattered not a jot because he was bubbling over and as I could listen to his voice for ever this particular woman was soon in seventh heaven. However eventually I was forced to come back with a bump by his obvious need for a reply.

‘I beg your pardon, say that again?’

‘I was asking about your precise relationship to my student Flora.’

‘She’s my step-daughter.’

‘That explains a lot.’

‘How so?’

‘Why you are so very different.’


The following Wednesday I made sure I was outside the same bookshop. In fact I had spent the intervening week in a lather of anticipation at a possible further meeting only to be cruelly disappointed by his absence. In an attempt to manufacture a moment of “deja vu” I entered the same coffee bar only to see my quarry already at the counter.

Again we were squeezed together but I had come with a proposition and the close contact gave me courage to proceed.

‘Would it shock you to know that I want more than a platonic relationship.’

His thigh was between mine and I manoeuvred forward until his knee was hard against the heat of my open vulva and our skin only separated by a scrap of cotton and well washed denim.

‘No, I think that is very plain.’


‘But not in your home I assume?’

‘It would be difficult.’

‘Then maybe my flat?’


‘But I warn you it’s without any feminine touches or even basic comforts.’

‘Do you have a bed?’

‘A “double” as I believe the British call it’

‘Then what more do we need?’

I giggled then as we whispered with heads close together presenting the very picture of a couple arranging an assignation.

‘But when?’ I asked leaning back purposefully to increase the contact of my throbbing clitoris on his knee.

‘Next Wednesday.’ He replied immediately which set off a veritable explosion of fireworks in my vagina and I came in that most public of places.


I thought long and hard about what I should wear but eventually settled on shabby chic knowing that it was pointless if not downright dangerous to draw attention to myself.

He was waiting at the kerb outside his building and came round to open my door. I made a performance of exiting my low sports car and saw his eyes flicker to the flash of white gusset revealed for a moment as my legs parted. I locked the car and mounted the steps. Now there was no going back.

In the event he put me at ease by being very matter of fact. I had never been unfaithful to my husband in the five years of our marriage although I had been tempted once or even twice and while being determined to enjoy this occasion I was genuinely nervous.

‘I had only just got back from a run so I’ll have a shower while you get settled in.’

So to the accompaniment of running water I stripped and slipped under the bedclothes to await events. While initially thinking I might retain my underwear in some vain effort at appearing the modest victim I soon discarded them in the knowledge that it would seem a phony deceit.

Martin then appeared totally naked but preceded by a more than adequate erection which immediately made me giggle. He stood at the foot of the bed, fastened a hand around his member and began to wank slowly as I watched fascinated.

‘Does that turn you on?’

I nodded in the affirmative being struck dumb for the moment.

‘What do you think about when you go solo?’

Now I found my voice although it sounded very unsteady as I finally replied.

‘Just the feeling of getting off…I’m not actually very graphic when I masturbate.’

He sped up the rhythm of his movements and asked again.

‘But what gets you in the mood to start?’

‘That’s easy. Your call to thank me for dinner, a sexy voice, or maybe a sudden recall of something in my past.’

His breathing had become laboured and I threw the sheets back and continued my own road to fulfilment which had already begun beneath the covers.

‘Like what?’

‘Oh that’s not easy, but wait…I remember catching the eye of a woman across the aisle on a plane and watching her masturbate under a blanket. It was the intent and unwavering look on her face as if she would have preferred touching me which later fuelled many a steamy session.’

By now I was well into it and as I was about to orgasm I saw his eyes glaze over. We came together and he spurted over my feet which then lead to a combined burst of laughter from which I recovered first.

‘That’s a first for me.’

‘What was?’

‘Someone cumming on my feet.’

He remained vertical and I spoke again as he continued to stroke his penis.

‘How soon before we can get down to fucking ourselves stupid?’

‘That depends on you.’

Intrigued I half rose on one elbow.

‘Me doing what?’

‘Not doing, just telling me how you want it.’

I fell back then turned on my front and spread my legs.

‘Like this.’

I felt his weight descend onto the mattress then his body onto mine before an already cum lubricated erection was insinuated slowly into my anus. The feel of his velvet smooth erection slipping in and out was pure bliss and with the help of my fingers I immediately came explosively. But then to my disappointment he withdrew.

‘Have you come already?’ My question was muffled by a pillow but the reply was ultra clear as his mouth was next to my ear.

‘Never fear, I’m not nearly finished.’

Martin then turned me bodily onto my back and my open vagina sucked him in with a noise not dissimilar to a slurp. He paused only to adjust his position and so violent was the subsequent invasion that I came shortly after without further aid from fingers and again as he finally filled my pussy.


But now the dreadful racking regrets began. He wanted a repeat of our tryst but I was determined not to weaken another time. All far to late of course but so be it, and unknown to me Flora was plotting her own route to gain pleasure at the hands of her Professor.

He finally succumbed to her charms in the same bed. Different car parked outside but the same result. However, and during the bout, Martin Summers had unwisely confessed his previous encounter with me.


Flora ran me to earth in my bedroom and locked the door. I had been in the process of gathering my dirty washing together and turned to find a spitting young women.

‘You’ve made a cuckold of my father.’

I didn’t answer being guilty as charged but she softened temporarily.

‘I know he has other women so perhaps that’s not the real point of my anger with you…’

But this was news to me so I interrupted Flora mid-complaint.

‘Other women. I had no idea. Do I know them?’

‘Of course but can we come back to that later. You’ve had my Martin Summers.’

Her claws were out so I sought to ease her fury.

‘Once only and I deeply regret my impulse but why are you so upset?’

At that Flora broke down and fell on the bed sobbing but as the sobs grew worse I curled up beside my step-daughter and cradled her body to mine.

‘I think I probably love him Mother.’

‘Am I right to assume you’ve already slept with Martin?’


‘So has he said anything about the future when you were together?’

‘No of course not. I’d already played the relationship down.’

How wise of her but then something else suddenly occurred to me.

‘I never asked if he was married although it seems very unlikely.’

‘No he isn’t.’

‘Well that’s something at least, but what do you want from him?’

‘A relationship I suppose if I’m being truthful. But you’ve fucked up any chance of that.’

Now the temper was back and she pushed me away violently.

‘Nothing long-term is ever going to happen sweetie and you know it.’

The realisation was slow to dawn but arrived in time.

‘No, you’re right. I suppose I should just be content with enjoying his services while it lasts.’

‘That’s the spirit my darling but listen, tell me who your father has fucked?’

She pulled me back close and heaved a deep sigh.

‘You must know my Dad thinks that the sun shines out of his arse. My mother once told me he measures his virility by how many women he fucks, and with his inherited wealth he has no problem attracting willing partners.’

‘But do I know any of them?’

‘Some maybe.’

‘Then name them before I go mad.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course I am. I mean it’s not like I feel the need to scratch their eyes out, I just need to be fully in the loop when and if they start smirking at me.’

‘Well there was his first PA, also Charlene the current bimbo with that dubious title who can’t even spell. Then there’s your ballsy “friend” Maxine, oh and the estate agent who handled the sale of his father’s house, what was her name?’

‘Sally err… Barnes.’

‘Yup that’s the one. And no doubt there are many others which I don’t recall for the moment’

‘Bloody hell Flora, I had no idea.’

‘You’re a trophy wife Mother. He loves having a beautiful and sexy woman around to bolster his opinion of himself but as you must have discovered he’s no great shakes in bed, at least so my mother once complained.’

She left the room then, leaving me with much food for thought.

Was I behaving any better than my husband?

Not according to my recent activities.

Why had I married him in the first place?

For a comfortable life was the only reply possible. So was I going to rock the boat? The answer was in the negative and the decision was entirely a no brainer.


That night my bed was empty of a husband and I was luxuriating in the space when Flora arrived.

‘Can I get in with you?’

‘Of course. Your Dad’s away on business.’

‘And probably already tucked up in an hotel bed with his stupid little PA.’

‘Well I wish her luck with having an orgasm.’

We both giggled but the cuddle which followed suddenly became something more. It’s not that I hadn’t had sex with a women before, or that Flora and me hadn’t done it previously (I have already said that we were very close) but the occasions were infrequent.

Our naked bodies became locked together breast to breast and our legs were interlaced. Flora was already humping my thigh and her hand was at my clit when I began responding like for like.

Naked from my shower and slippery with unguents my skin was super sensitive to every contact, to every caress, and having almost come before my step-daughter had even arrived her clever fingers soon brought me off. I needed a little more time to do the same for Flora but it was not long before she shuddered on my hand and I saw her smile lazily.

‘What’s amusing you so much?’

‘It’s a long story.’

‘Well we’ve got all night. Spill the beans.’

‘Okay but it involves my Dad so are you comfortable with that?’


‘Right then here goes. It was just after my first period when I caught him jacking off. Like I knew perfectly well what he was doing but it was still a shock..and so I began spying on him until my mother caught me one day.’

‘What did she say?’

‘Oh just that it was better than him sleeping around and gave her a rest from his attentions, but it served to stop my undercover work.’

‘But why were you smiling just now?’

‘Because later, and quite by accident, I found out what sort of porn turns him on.’

‘So what does he watch?’

‘You don’t know?’

‘I’ve never been that curious.’

‘Oh okay, I can understand that. But he likes watching women on women. So imagine what he would have felt if he had just seen us performing.’

‘He wouldn’t have known whether to be disgusted or to wank himself off.’

Later I more than willingly let Flora bring me off again then watched as she masturbated cross legged and with her bush in front of my face. Then having stretched out beside me she made a sleepy post orgasmic suggestion.

‘Perhaps we could share Martin Summers? Like not as a threesome, I’m not into that, but turn and turn about…What do you think?’

What did I think? Especially after the revelations of my husband’s philandering. It was once again a no brainer of a decision.

‘That’s more than okay by me, but maybe he might have something to say.’

‘Leave it all to me.’

Whether blackmail reared it’s ugly head who knows? But I would never rule out anything where Flora was concerned. Anyway from then on I found myself pretty regularly in his bed and came home each time feeling pretty damn satisfied. This happened regularly for us both until the time when our Professor left for America leaving both Flora and I bereft.

But a lasting consolation was my secret knowledge of Michael Thomas’s philandering and my pity for his disappointed conquests. As long as all he required from me was to be well dressed and to welcome his occasional need for sex I was more than content.


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