Katie and I had now had a pair of encounters since we connected via craigslist, the first in a run-down hotel and the second in a public park. She was slutty and we were doing slutty things together and I liked that but what really left me wanting more was her poetry and her artistic flair. The words in her emails seemed to dance across my screen, lilting and light. She pointed me to the on-line poetry forum she had created and curated where she showcased her own works but mainly that of others, and sent me a few of her poems; later she wrote a couple about me.
Katie cut an odd figure. She was a frumpy dresser, typically a bit disheveled and If a man ran across her at a shopping mall it would not occur to him that this a woman he should try to seduce on the spot. She was larger than most women, tall and stocky, the opposite of modelesque. I never knew her to wear makeup or lipstick. Yet she had amazing erotic power. She praised my love-making and I know I pleased her mightily but I don’t think I or any other man could ever fuck her to a point of complete satisfaction.
One Saturday she invited me to join her at a downtown gallery where an artist she liked was showing her latest works. Katie stepped right up to this artist, who was gorgeous and dressed like she was heading to a cocktail party in Manhattan. Katie looked like she’d just crawled out of bed yet in no time they were deep in animated conversation, like long-lost cousins. I stood at a short distance and took it all in, and for Katie I could have been 1000 miles away. She had a way of losing herself completely in the moment especially when making love, and let everything else fall away. I saw this clearly the three times I watched her fuck another man.
Somehow I managed to lure her away from the artist, whom of course Katie wrote an article about complete with images in the next issue of her poetry zine, and we headed to my office. It was not far away, on the ground floor of a parking garage that has since been demolished. The parking mainly served residents of a high-rise private student dormitory across the street who attended the major university that was a short walk away. Our suite contained a few smallish offices off of one cavernous room. I took her into one of the smaller offices, propped her on my desk, dropped to my knees and ate her pussy with vigor and joy. After she came, I stood up and fucked her first shallow and softly, then deep and hard, my cock tall and proud thanks to the viagra I had swallowed that morning. We kissed and she licked her juices off my beard as I pounded away until I emptied myself inside her with an aaaah. That we might have been caught — I was far from the only one who sometimes ‘worked’ on Saturdays — made our misdemeanor all the more delicious.
A week or so later, she invited my over to her house for an evening of joy, when her unsuspecting husband took their two kids on a trip for a couple of days. I remember sitting anxiously in my car in the parking lot of a large grocery store, waiting for the all-clear signal. I tend to arrive early for trysts. Once the signal came, I discovered that they lived in a beautiful wood-frame home with a wrap-around porch, hardwood floors and large windows that let air flow through the house in the day before central AC. We made love on a couch in a small ante-room that served as an office. As we sat there during a break, I stretched my leg out and put my foot in her crouch and began rubbing her pussy with my heel. To my great surprise and delight she swooned with pleasure and climaxed in short order as I moved the bottom of my foot back and forth across her wet pussy.I had never imagined such a thing. Katie was opening up new avenues for me, and the ride was just beginning. More on that soon.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/i16o6u/married_mans_confession_milf_f_katie_fucks_me_in