Kim's weekend
written by:
tony090909

Airport departure lounges are contradictory places. On the one hand there is a sense of glamour about them - they're your gateway to jet off somewhere exotic. Sadly the reality is a functional, low cost room where you're herded together with your fellow travellers in an area scuffed and stained by the thousands who went before you.

However previous flights I'd taken had always been on holiday with my husband and this was the first time I had ever flown on my own so there was a certain novelty in the situation. I glanced around at my fellow travellers. They were a mixture of singles and couples, no families, so thankfully no noisy, fractious children. A man in a business suit tried to make eye contact with me, but I made a point of looking elsewhere. If he had known the agenda for my weekend away then he would have realised that his chances of picking me up were nil.

My thoughts about the coming weekend were interrupted when a woman in her thirties, so about the same age as me, asked if she could beg a favour. I asked what and she said she had promised to ring her husband from the departure lounge, but her phone had a flat battery. Could she borrow mine for a single brief call? Of course I said yes and after a quick word with her husband she handed the phone back to me.

She introduced herself as Helen and I invited her to sit with me. She explained that it had been a hectic day and she was late setting off for the airport, so it had been a stressful start to her journey. She was on her way to see her brother who was in hospital recuperating after an operation for kidney stones. She told me a bit about her brother who used to live near her in London but had then moved to Glasgow. She was chatty, but very pleasant with it and of course after a couple of minutes she asked me what was taking me to Glasgow - business or pleasure?

I could have lied, but somehow that seemed rather pointless, so I said it was pleasure. I explained that I was seeing a friend, my former boss who moved to Glasgow three months ago. There was no mistaking the puzzled expression when she realised that my "friend" was a man; she had obviously seen my wedding ring and I could almost see the wheels turning in her head. Her next question was put very casually, but was clearly intended to extract some vital information.

"Which hotel are you staying at?"

They say that confession is good for the soul and I had an overwhelming desire to tell the truth. I am basically an honest person, but I don't think a desire to be truthful was my real motivation for confiding in Helen. I suspect that on this occasion I wanted to show off a bit, to stress my transition from dull housewife to glamorous lover.

"I'm not, I'm staying at Steve's flat."

"At his flat? But doesn't your husband mind?"

"No, not at all. He thoroughly approves, in fact when Steve invited me to spend the weekend with him Paul encouraged me to go."

"Isn't he worried something will happen?"

"It's a bit late for that - it already has."

"It already has! You mean...?"

Fortunately there was no one sat near us so I was able to tell Helen how Steve and I became lovers at Paul's instigation. I hadn't the courage to tell Helen exactly what happened. I would never forget that decisive evening and Paul holding me down while Steve ignored my protests and ripped my knickers off. Prior to that Paul had been the only man I'd had sex with, but Steve had fucked me once that evening and again the following morning when Paul had insisted that I go to his bedroom.

I'm quite a conservative person and the thought of taking a lover had never appealed to me. My lack of experience hadn't bothered me and I'd said to Paul that one man was probably very like another. Well that night with Steve had changed things. I wouldn't have done it if Paul hadn't virtually forced me, but I had to admit that I had enjoyed it. The conversation with Helen brought it all back and had quite an arousing effect on me. I thought back to that evening and could almost feel the rigid force of Steve's cock and the blazing heat as he came inside me. The fact that in a few hours I would be in Steve's bed, spreading my legs for him was a hugely exciting thought.

Helen's reaction was an interesting mixture of disapproval and envy. I could understand that and to be honest if the roles had been reversed I think that is how I would have felt. But I've always enjoyed sex and with my husband's encouragement I've found that taking a lover has been a very positive experience. Certainly I didn't feel the guilt which I thought might have bothered me and in fact the relationship between Paul and I has moved on to a much more intimate level since that night when he urged Steve to fuck me.

You won't be surprised to find that Helen sat next to me on the plane and quietly asked me various questions; fortunately the plane was only half full so we were able to chat. It turned out that her own marriage was fine, but it sounded like their sex life was in a rut - weekends only, missionary position - and that's it. It did make me feel a little smug - my case had some smart clothes, a selection of sexy underwear and I was going to spend the weekend being wined, dined and ravished by my lover.

Looking back it seems a bit reckless to discuss intimate details with a stranger, but I felt our paths were unlikely to cross again and anyway I instinctively liked Helen and trusted her. She seemed very interested in the detail and I surprised myself by my willingness to confide in her. She asked me if Steve would use a condom and I said no. Neither of us liked them and I was safe and was happy that Steve was clean. Helen was surprised when I told her that Paul had a definite preference for Steve riding me bareback.

"Really? He doesn't mind if Steve comes inside you?

"Not at all. Paul's exact words were that as far as he's concerned I won't have been fucked properly unless I've got a load of sperm in my pussy."

I think we would have chatted for hours, but London to Glasgow is only a short flight and in no time we were preparing to land. Steve was meeting me at the airport and Helen asked if I minded if we came out together, she said she just had to see what he looked like. As soon as I came through the arrivals gate I saw Steve and waved to him. I introduced him to Helen and explained she had kept me company on the flight. Helen and I said our goodbyes and as I hugged her she whispered "Have fun!" in my ear.

We were soon in Steve's car and heading out of Glasgow. He'd realised that Helen and I had exchanged some girly confidences and seemed to quite like the sexy, flirtatious tone it gave to the weekend.

When we got to his home I had a tour. It was a two bedroom flat and the main bedroom had a king-sized bed and an ensuite bathroom with a large shower cubicle. He'd cleared out a couple of drawers for me, so I unpacked all my things and got a quick shower. Before that I gave Paul a quick ring and told him the journey had been fine.

After I'd showered I slipped a turquoise bra and pants set on and my black robe. Steve was sat in the lounge on the settee. We'd hugged and exchanged a quick kiss before, but now we kissed properly. Inevitably Steve's hand slipped inside my robe and began to feel my breasts, but when he tried to slip a hand inside my knickers I stopped him. I knew it would be better if we saved it for later and Steve agreed though he said it would be difficult to keep his hands off me.

We went out for a meal and got back to Steve's at about 10pm and although we had sex that night, the Saturday night was more memorable, so I hope it's OK if I tell you about that instead.

Saturday morning was rather lazy and then in the afternoon we went to the Kelvingrove gallery and museum and had a stroll around, and yes we did see that famous painting by Salvador Dali.

I said I'd get the first shower, but I hadn't been in very long when Steve opened the door and got in with me. Fortunately it was a nice big shower cubicle so space wasn't a problem. Showering together is something Paul and I do occasionally and I was more than happy to share one with Steve. There's something very sensual about all that hot water and the soapy suds making everything slippery and exciting. Steve rubbed shower gel on my breasts and bush and washed me very thoroughly. Then it was my turn to get a load of shower gel on my hands and wash his cock.

He was already erect, but my attentions gave him a hard-on like an iron bar. I don't know if I'm the same as other women, but I do find an erect cock very arousing. It's so bold and forceful and of course it's erect because of me, so in a sense it's a compliment to me.

Anyway Steve asked me to turn round and put my palms flat against the wall. I did that and knowing full well what he had in mind I spread my legs and stuck my bottom out to make the angle easier for him. His cock rubbed against my cunt lips and then firmly and forcefully he penetrated me. I do like being taken from behind, in fact it's my favourite position and this was very nice. It was almost too nice because I didn't want Steve to cum inside me; being practical I didn't feel like walking round all evening with sperm leaking out of me. So I suggested to Steve that he should save himself for later and he was happy to do that.

Once I was out of the shower and part way through getting dressed I remembered my promise to text Paul and keep him up to date, so I reached for my phone and tapped out a message:

Hi. I've just been fucked in the shower. Off to the restaurant soon. Luv u. xxxxx

Putting my phone back down on the unit I glanced at Steve and he smiled, knowing full well what sort of message I had just sent.

We had a table booked at an Italian restaurant and we got a taxi there. It was a lovely place with the sort of cosy, intimate atmosphere that perfectly suited our weekend. I sent another text to Paul telling him we had just arrived at the restaurant. My phone beeped a few seconds later and it was a text from Paul asking what I had chosen to wear. He does take an interest in my clothes and a special interest in my choice of lingerie. I quite like that, I know some of my friends have husbands who don't care and that always seems rather depressing to me. Anyway I replied to Paul.

Navy blue dress, turquoise bra and pants, white lace-topped hold-ups.

I didn't have too long to wait before another text arrived.

Why don't you remove your knickers and pass them to Steve. I'm sure it would excite him.

I had to suppress a smile when I read that. I should explain that going knickerless in public was something that I had done a few times at Paul's request. It certainly turned him on and I must admit that I got a bit of a kick out of it as well.

Nevertheless I dismissed it as too forward for this occasion. However as the meal wore on the temptation to surprise Steve became irresistible. At the end of the main course I excused myself and went to the loo. Sat in the cubicle I removed my lacy turquoise knickers, screwed them up in my hand and returned to our table. I waited a minute or two then asked Steve to reach his hand out under the table. He gave me a puzzled look.

"I'm going to pass you something. You mustn't look. I want to see if you can tell what it is without looking."

Steve said OK and reached under the table. I reminded him there was no looking and discretely handed him my knickers. It didn't take long before a smile spread across his face.

"I've got your knickers haven't I? Aren't you a naughty girl? Do you often go round knickerless?"

"No, only very occasionally. Paul finds it very exciting. What about you?"

"I think it's very, very sexy. How does it make you feel?"

"Quite fruity, but also a bit vulnerable as well."

"Vulnerable? In what way?"

"Well anything could happen. A gust of wind might come along and expose my pussy to a complete stranger." I lowered my voice further. "They could take advantage of me - all they would have to do was stick their hand up my dress and they would have access to my most intimate place."

"That's true," said Steve with a quiet smile. I glanced round at the other couples in the restaurant. They probably assumed we were just another married couple; what would they think if they knew I was a married woman who had just passed her knickers to her lover? Perhaps they wouldn't care and were more concerned with their own thoughts and secrets. My love juices were in full flow and I was worried they would soak through my dress and leave a stain on the seat. I wanted to leave, head back to Steve's flat and fuck, so when Steve asked if I wanted a dessert or coffee I said no and suggested that we leave. Whilst he paid the bill I sent another text to Paul:

Just leaving the restaurant. My knickers are in Steves pocket. Luv u. xxxxx

We went out onto the street and Steve called a taxi. He told the driver the address and then surprised me by telling him that he would get a bigger tip than normal if he kept his eyes on the road and not on the back seat.

"No problem," said the driver with more than a trace of a laddish grin. When he said that he glanced briefly at his rear view mirror and just for a second our eyes made contact. He was Asian (as so many of the taxi drivers are) and quite young, perhaps about twenty-five, and reasonably good looking.

As soon as the taxi pulled away from the kerb, Steve moved closer to me, but fortunately he didn't make any real moves until we were on the M8 headed north for the Erskine bridge. However once we were on the motorway he leaned across and kissed me and what had been subtle stroking of the underside of one of my breasts became blatant fondling. As we sped along the motorway Steve slid his hand up the inside of my thigh.

I wriggled and squirmed and tried to keep my legs together, but Steve wouldn't be denied and his hand settled on my pussy. He slid one finger into my pouting slit and it was soon joined by a second. I surrendered to the sensations and let Steve overwhelm me. I felt ashamed and excited. Ashamed because a complete stranger was watching while Steve finger fucked me, but excited for exactly the same reason. Other people may indulge in public or semi-public displays, but not me. This was way outside my experience and I felt powerless and completely out of my depth.

My head was tilted back against the headrest and my eyes were more or less closed. Steve smothered my throat in kisses while still fingering me and I have to confess that although my eyes may have looked closed I kept them slightly open, and it was clear that the driver was sneaking glances at us. I was in one corner of the back seat so I'm not sure he could actually see anything, but it must have been very obvious what Steve was doing.

I was worried that Steve was going to try and take things a stage further, but we soon came off the motorway and Steve calmed down. The taxi dropped us outside Steve's flat and the driver accepted his tip with a cheerful thank you. No sooner were we in the lift than Steve's hand was between my thighs again. He dipped a finger into my pussy, then removed it and slid it into my mouth. I wasn't too surprised by that because Paul has done it, nor was I surprised when Steve asked what I could taste. I gave a simple one-word answer.

"Cunt."

It might make more extrovert couples laugh but it was several years before Paul and I started using the C word in our bedroom talk and even now it is still a semi-forbidden word whose use thrills and excites me.

Steve lives on the top (fifth) floor so we were soon out of the lift and into his flat. We didn't make it to the bedroom. Somehow we ended up in his kitchen and Steve pressed me face down across the table and pushed my dress up round my waist.

There was no subtlety, he just rammed his cock into me and gave me a hard, fast fucking. That might sound a bit brutal, but I actually quite like being taken that way. Anyway it didn't last long, Steve was obviously very aroused because he soon gave a deep groan and I felt his cock jerk inside me and that lovely warm, wet feeling when a man pumps his sperm into you.

After that we got a drink then went to bed and rolled around energetically for quite a while. This time Steve had a lot more staying power and he made me cum twice before he finally pumped another load into me. By then I was pretty exhausted, but I did remember my promise to update Paul and tapped out a final message.

Steve finger fucked me in the taxi and he's cum in my pussy twice. Luv u. xxxxx

It was nearly midnight by then and I thought that Paul might well be asleep, so I turned my phone off and fell straight asleep.

I woke a bit later than usual and Steve and I got a leisurely breakfast. I switched my phone back on and it beeped with the arrival of a text from Paul.

You luscious slut! Can't wait for your sweet married pussy to return. I must fuck you tonight. Please say yes. Lots of Luv. xxxxx

That made me smile so I told him he'd better be on time to meet me or he was getting nothing. I sent him another text a few hours later from the airport saying that his luscious slut and her sweet married pussy were about to board the plane.

You won't be surprised to hear that he was on time and had even brought a bunch of red roses for me. When we got home he wanted to know all the details, but I told him to wait until we were in bed together.

So later that night I gave Paul a detailed account of what had happened and how I felt as my cunt lips were parted by another man's prick. I described the sensations as Steve rammed his cock into me and then the decisive moment when he stiffened, gave an almighty groan and I felt his cock jerk inside me and the wonderful feeling as he pumped sperm into my married pussy. It was a huge turn-on describing this and it obviously excited Paul and it wasn't long before he added his load to the sperm Steve had left inside me.

Laid together afterwards I asked Paul if he felt any doubts or unhappiness about my weekend away. He assured me that he didn't. I cupped his balls and gave them a gentle squeeze.

"You're sure don't have any regrets?" I asked him.

"No definitely not. Funnily enough I feel closer to you, more intimate with you. We're sharing in a way that a lot of couples wouldn't be secure enough to do."

"You really don't mind that I've slept with Steve?" Paul's cock stirred at that, so I hardly needed his assurance that he definitely didn't mind. I snuggled up closer and even though I already knew the answer I whispered into his ear.

"Does the thought of his cock sliding into my pussy turn you on?" Paul's reply was to push me onto my back and move between my legs. I gasped as he slid into me.

"You luscious slut. You are so sexy. Next time I want to watch as Steve fucks you."

"Oh there's going to be another time is there?"

"Definitely yes," said Paul ramming it into me.

"Tell me what you want. Do you want him to cum in your slut's pussy?"

"Yes, yes," Paul gasped. "I want him to release his load inside you. You won't have been fucked properly if you don't have a load of his sperm in your pussy."

That took me back to my conversation with Helen and I began to shudder and shake as a massive orgasm swept through me and then Paul was gasping and groaning as he added another load of sperm to the store already inside me.