A One Time Thing

"Thank you so much, Winston," I gushed. "And please tell Mabel again how grateful I am to have been included."

"I will," Winston chimed, as he kissed Jean's hand good-bye with a flourish.

I paid the valet, opened Jean's door for her getting another great look at her svelte right leg as she slithered into the passenger's seat, and hurried to the driver's side. The first thing that I saw when I entered the car was Jean's brilliant smile.

Jean reached over and grabbed my hand as she enthused "That was one of the half dozen most fun evenings of my life. Thank you so much for including me."

"I thought that it was one of the best nights of my life too," I replied, "and thank you so much for coming with me. You made the evening!"

"Only one thing could make this night better," I thought, but didn't say, immediately chastising myself while I tried to suppress my boner.

Jean touched me one way or the other the entire trip back; she was super animated as she marveled at all of the unusual things that we had seen and done, and the impressive people that we met. I could tell that she was feeling the effects of the at least half dozen glasses of wine that she had consumed, although she was in no way drunk -- just exultant.

When we got to Jean's house and I walked her to the door she held my hands and gazed into my eyes. "Blake, I have never been treated more nicely by a man than you treated me tonight. Not by my husband, father, brother, or any boyfriend. I am a loss at how to properly thank you for how special that you've made me feel. Can I at least offer you a drink before you go home?" she asked with a sultry smile.

Jean knew that I didn't really drink, although I had had one beer near the end of the Gala, so this invitation might mean what I hoped that it did. "I'd love to, if you don't mind," I chirped.

I held my keyring flashlight for her as she unlocked her front door, and then opened it for her to enter the house, getting me another big smile. "Let me show you where the bar is while I get out of these painful heels and tight slinky dress," she chuckled as I followed her into the den. "There it is -- help yourself and pour me a Drambuie please," she chirped as she disappeared into the back of the house. I did as asked, and decided to pour myself one too. When she returned she was barefoot and had on only a shapeless short dress -- it didn't appear that there were any discernable undergarments.

She thanked me for pouring her a drink, and we chatted while we sipped. When she put her empty cordial glass down she said "Let's sit down; while I had a fantastic time I haven't been in high heels like that in quite a while and my feet hurt."

I took off my tux jacket and tie, and moved my suspenders off of my shoulders, as we sat down on a couch. As we talked she rubbed her feet. I got down on my knees and grabbed one.

"What are you doing, Blake?" she giggled as I seized her left foot.

"You were so wonderful tonight that I feel obligated to give you a foot rub," I grinned as I started kneading her foot.

Her mild protests turned into "Oh yes -- right there -- Oh my God! Oh that feels so good." Her eyes were closed, a look of contentment on her face.

As I massaged her left foot, her right foot was under her on the couch so I didn't get a look up her dress -- pervert that I am.

"OK, time for the other foot," I chirped after about ten minutes.

Her eyes opened, she smiled, and then pulled her right foot from under her body while leaving her left foot on the floor. As she did this her short dress rode up and her bare pussy was exposed. I tried not to stare until she repeated her "Oh yes..." mantra and closed her eyes. Then I focused on her shaved luscious pussy lips, readily visible even though the light wasn't the greatest. After about five minutes of me massaging her right foot with background noise provided by her delicious appreciative moans, all the while staring at her glistening crack, she suddenly opened her eyes.

"Why Blake -- I do believe that you're staring up my dress," she chuckled.

"Uh...well...uh...sorry," I mumbled, looking away.

"Like what you see?" she inquired, her voice suddenly gravely.

"Uh...well...that is...yes...maybe...well," I stammered as I started to sweat.

Jean got a devilish smile on her face, grabbed the bottom of her dress, quickly and smoothly yanked it over her head exposing her entire naked body including an exquisitely inviting pussy and a pair of world class puffy nipples. "Do what you want to," were the only words that came out of her crooked smile mouth as she moved her legs apart.

I didn't need to be told twice.

Soon I was like a shark in a feeding frenzy as I simultaneously licked, kissed, sucked, tongued, and fingered every part of her female sex organ as Jean let out a continuous low groan, interrupted occasionally with little squeaks of joy. Her reaction changed however when I sucked in her engorged clitoris while simultaneously giving her a "shocker" (two in the pink, one in the stink). She screamed in ecstasy while clamping her thighs to my temples and pulling my hair. It was a full minute before she came down from her high and started whimpering.

When she finally completely calmed down, as I licked her sweet pussy juice from my lips, glassy-eyed Jean mumbled "Get your fucking clothes off and follow me to my bedroom."

That was the first time in the two years that I had known her that I ever heard her swear.

I shed my clothes on the way to the back of her house. When I got to her bedroom I could relish her beauty and sexuality in the low light of a bedside lamp. Jean was on her hands and knees on her bed, her ass pointed toward me, her pussy glimmering and seemingly pulsating. As I approached her from behind and put my hands on her hips she mumbled "Don't show me any mercy -- bang my brains out!"

It took a few tries before I buried my palpitating steel-hard cock up to my ball sack in her enchanting snug cunt.

The next few hours were a blur of pumping, growling, groaning, intense, sweating, invigorating, strenuous, constant fucking and sucking. By the time that the fluorescing digital bedside clock glowed 3:18 a. m. I was the most sexually fulfilled that I ever had been in my life -- by an order of magnitude -- but completely wiped out.

Jean extricated her left puffy nipple from my mouth, lightly squeezed by over-worked scrotum, and mumbled "Let's shower."

We stumbled to her -- fortunately -- large and ornate master bathroom shower stall, and made out under the streams of warm water, occasionally taking time to actually wash off one of our body parts. I spent much more time on her tits and crotch than was necessary, and she reciprocated on my red worn-out cock and ball sac. When we started to run out of warm water we exited, dried ourselves off, and staggered back to the bedroom. We tore the cum and sweat-soaked sheets off of the bed and simply threw a new sheet on the mattress, not taking the time to fit it.

"Blake, that was the best experience of my life," Jean murmured between quick kisses. "But I have nosy neighbors and can't have you here all night.

I smiled, kissed her passionately, and mumbled back "You wiped me out Goddess. Let me give you a back massage and then get my ass home."

I laid her down face first on the clean sheet, marveling how her body wasn't marginally heavy, as I thought during the food bank hours, but was essentially a perfect female form. I manipulated her back, buttocks, and thighs as pleasure moans and groans emanated from her mouth until within ten short minutes she was quietly snoring. I covered her with a blanket, kissed her on the forehead, gathered up and put on most of my disheveled clothing, and somehow managed to negotiate the four miles to my house without totaling my car and even with the presence of mind to leave a voicemail for my boss telling him that I wouldn't be in until 1:00 p. m. the next day.

As I passed out, partially clothed, in my bed at 4:14 a. m. several thoughts flashed through my mind before I lost awareness. "Jean is the best woman on the planet; I haven't thought about Cindy for more than a few nanoseconds; can I really get a more rewarding job through Winston; I'm going to be making many changes to my life."

*************

The next day of the rest of my life started at 10:56 Thursday morning as my crusty eyes opened in response to bright sunshine beaming through our Eastern windows. I tried to ponder my future as I ate breakfast, got my rented tux in condition to return, dressed, and drove to work; however it was difficult to concentrate since my mind was still awash in endorphins from the epic social and sexual experiences that started less than a day earlier. I was surprisingly productive at the "salt mine" despite the boring nature of my labor until I received a call on my cell about 4 o'clock.

"Blake Bentsen," I sang into the phone.

"Hi Blake; this is Jean; remember me?" a happy voice boomed into the receiver.

"Let me see -- are you the Jean that is a Goddess, able to turn mortal men into sex-ravaged sycophants?"

"That's the one," she laughed.

We chatted about nothing for a few minutes; then Jean got to the point. "Can we meet at about 5:00 for coffee?"

"Make it 5:15 at the Starbuck's on Lake St. and I'll be there with bells on," I replied.

"See you then," she signed off, with a definitely sultry tone.

Jean and I exchanged hugs, but no kisses, when we met. Jean saved a table in the most distant corner while I maneuvered into line and got her a latte and me an espresso. "You look ravishing," I blurted out while my eyes ogled her after I took a sip of my drink. I wasn't lying. Even though she didn't have the splendor of the previous evening's makeup, hairdo, and sultry dress, she had a well-fucked afterglow that made her radiant.

"Thank you -- I feel ravishing -- and well-ravished," she chuckled just prior to sipping her latte. "However, that's something that I wanted to talk to you about."

"I'm all ears," I grinned, despite the fact that I knew that I wouldn't like what came next.

"Last night was the best night of my entire existence, bar none, Blake. Impossibly the sex was even better than the Gala. You touched something in me never touched before."

"I feel exactly -- and I do mean EXACTLY -- the same way," I responded.

"I would have been disappointed if you didn't," she giggled. "However, I want you to know that it was a onetime thing; never to be repeated. While it was too enjoyable for me to be wracked with guilt about, it is not in my nature to cheat on my husband and children, or to cause you to cheat on your wife. It was a short trip to heaven by two mere mortals, an out-of-planet once in a lifetime experience," she continued, with her hand on top of mine. "The memory of it will get me through any tough times in the future," she concluded as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

I shed more tears than Jean did.

We went to a secluded area outside and had a passionate good-bye kiss.

**************

I was pretty sure how I was going to proceed after my meeting with Jean. Friday at noon my plan went from "pretty sure" to "certain." Cindy called from her business trip to Florida. After asking me how the Gala went -- she hadn't called Wednesday night or at any time on Thursday -- she hit me with "Listen, Blake; the four of us had a very successful trip and it's really nice down here, so we're going to stay one more day to celebrate. I'll see you Sunday morning. I'll call with my flight number."

"OK -- have fun," was all that I said, and then abruptly hung up. The phone immediately rang again, but I didn't answer it.

Cindy didn't know that I had her female boss Katie's cell phone number, which I had gotten two years earlier when I planned a surprise party for Cindy. That afternoon I called Katie.

"Hi Katie; this is Blake Bentsen."

"Hi Blake; to what do I owe the honor of your call?"

"I lost the note telling me when Cindy's plane gets in tonight and she isn't answering her phone. Do you know her flight information?"

"I'm sure she had her phone off because she and Tad are putting the finishing touches on our successful trip. She and Tad will be getting a latter plane, and she'll call with the information as soon as she completes the project."

"Thanks, Katie -- I'm pleased that you had a successful excursion, and I hope to see you at the next company function," I signed off.

I was surprised that I wasn't upset; I had simply confirmed that what I wanted to do was the right thing. After my experience at the Gala, and then the all-time sex with Jean, I wasn't settling for a mediocre life. It was go for the gold or bust.

*****************

Lots happened over the next three years, although not between Jean and me. We still are super friendly to each other, and even play a little grab ass at the food bank when no one else is around, but no repeat of the night of my life. However, thinking back on our night-of-nights whenever I see Jean pumps endorphins through my body as fast as most of the sexual encounters that I had prior to the one with Jean. The old song "Oh what a night..." plays in my mind.

The first major thing that happened was a divorce from Cindy. I told her we were divorcing the Sunday that she (with a sunburn) got back from her trip to Florida, and had her served three days later. She initially resisted but ultimately couldn't argue with my statement "We're not passionate toward each other. We're just drifting. Let's end it and both look for real happiness." We split everything 50-50 with no alimony either way.

The second thing was a job change. I called Winston the week after the Gala and he set up an interview for me at a company that he owned all of the stock in. A week later I gave notice at my old job and two weeks after that started training to be an environmental compliance officer. I now have a job that pays 50% more than my old boring one, is social productive, and one that I wholly enjoy.

Once my divorce was final Mabel invited me to a dinner at her house that turned out to be a setup to meet her youngest daughter (not the one with the lost premature baby) Ginger. We were both thirty when we met, and she had just ended her fourth bad relationship in a row. Ginger is smart, fiery and passionate about everything, including the charity that she runs. She isn't nearly as good-looking as Jean, in fact not even as good looking as Cindy, but there is something about her that rings my chimes.

Ginger and I started fucking two weeks after we met, and have been trying our best over the last two years to screw each other to death. Sex with her is second only to Jean in my personal experience, and always exciting. My libido has doubled since my days with Cindy. Ginger and I got married three months ago and we found out yesterday that she's pregnant. The only person happier than Ginger and me is Mabel. [It's really nice to have a mother-in-law that you really respect and admire.]

Jean was the "best man" at my wedding. When I asked her I told her that she was the one responsible for my happiness. Without the night with her I would have unhappily drifted through life, but that now I was truly content.

One time with Jean was all that I had; one time was all that I needed.