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breaking in a new apartment with madame x [m/f] -- memories of a (formerly) swinging writer... | 2016
Just like the title says, I'm a former professional writer and once upon a time, not too long ago, I used to hang out with swingers, accumulating a lot of stories I'm told belong in a book. So before I go off trying to write a book or build a blog in my spare time, I wanted to try and write a story and see what others think of it...
Finally as night falls, the new apartment is quiet. The movers are long gone, the helpers all left for the night, the last picture has been nailed to the wall, and I, getting comfortable in my new home, strip down to a pair of gym shorts and kick back in my overstuffed chair. Today was a busy day but very, very productive. But aside from the quiet hum of the TV and the high pitched whine of the fridge, it’s a little too quiet, and frankly, a little boring. Time to bring out the laptop, again…
By this point in my life, I’ve been on swinger sites and hanging out with swingers for years. When I’m bored or lonely, swinger sites manifest themselves on my computer screen. Just a few minutes in, I’m chatting with a couple who says they’re looking for a guy generally fitting my description: HWP, and D\DF (or height-weight proportionate, and drug and disease free, i.e. no chubby gonorrhea patients with a meth problem). As per my policy, I chat with them about innocuous things first. This may be ultimately about sex, but I at least want to have something to talk to them about first.
Just as I think things may be starting to click, their next reply hits me like a palette of bricks. “So hey, you’re a single guy, right? So for you it will just be $150.”
“Excuse me? What?!”
“Yeah, it’s just $150 for you for both of us,” came the response with a set of pictures of a couple from whom I wouldn’t accept payment to touch me clothed, much less naked.
“Dude, you’re kidding, right?” I scoffed. “If I really wanted to get laid, all I need to do is pick up my phone and make a call or two and in half an hour I’ll have a willing partner for whom I don’t have to pay. Please do not message me again.”
Even though they were just trying to make some scratch, my Freudian id found it offensive that someone would ask me to pay for sex at all. Now, I had been offered money for sex by repressed gay men almost twice my age, but never before had I been brazenly ambushed with a sales pitch for sex. Clicking around and mulling my next idea for fun in my new home that evening, I suddenly had the urge to test my bragging. And I knew the perfect woman to call and later tell about this for a shared laugh. Madame X.
Note that I say woman, not girl, or "a friend," and for good reason. Madame X is a woman in every sense of the word. An intellectual matured to perfection, with an hourglass figure, silky skin, a deep, soulful gaze, and a mischievous smile affixed to her lips, who oh so very luckily for me, just happened to be an insatiable fiend in bed. She is not a woman you could ever fuck. She’s a woman you could only make love to. And at the time I was deep in denial that I had fallen in love with her so hard, it’s a wonder I didn’t get a concussion from the impact.
And after all my huffing and puffing, her phone rang until the voicemail prompt. Great. Well, I just wrote a verbal check I couldn’t cash in the real world. Damn. Somewhat deflated, I continued goofing around but not more than ten minutes later, my phone rang. Madame X!
“Hey! So sorry I missed your call. I’m at a work shindig so I couldn’t pick up.”
Oh, FML as all the cool kids say -- or is it said already? -- nowadays.
“Ah, gotcha. Sorry to interrupt. Just thought I’d see what your plans were for the weekend and if you wanted to come up and see my new place.”
“That’s right, you moved today! How is the new place?”
“I like it.”
“You know…” she began, “this party is really starting to wind down, I mean it’s a work thing after all so everyone wants to go home early. Why don’t I come by in say… half an hour or so? What’s your new address?”
Oh my sweet, wonderful Madame X. Always had time for me. And as a side note, take that you wannabe bait-and-switch escorts! [insert evil laughter]
As promised, half an hour later, Madame X knocked on my door. Wearing a skirt, high heels, and a soft cashmere turtleneck she cast her curious brown eyes on my humble abode.
“Well kick off your shoes, come on in, and have a seat! Anything to drink?”
“No thanks dear,” she purred, sinking into the couch.
I sat down by her and before I could turn to face her, she already straddled me, wrapped me in a warm embrace and her lips melted into mine. She kissed slowly and deeply, savoring every moment and letting her hands roam where they may on my naked torso. I could already feel the warmth and wetness of her bare mound through my thin shorts.
“Oh, I forgot to show you the best part of living here!” I said as soon as she pulled away.
“What’s that?”
“Just a moment,” I excused myself as I went into the bedroom and behind closed doors, coming out naked with a triumphant “no roommates so I can run around naked as I please!” to her approving laugh.
Yeah, that’s right How I Met Your Mother. I was doing the naked man before it was a thing. Now go on and eat your sitcom-infested heart out. Right there, on that plate, with some fava beans and a nice chianti.
Madame X straddled me again, smiling, kissing me, rubbing her mound on my now unrestrained cock while I ran my hands under her sweater to unhook her bra. A few minutes later, her sweater landed on the other side of the couch’s L, and her bra came to a rest on top. She stood up to let her skirt drop to the floor then laid down on the couch and I gently positioned myself over top of her, spreading her legs and letting my fingers part her wet pussy lips, rubbing her delicate clit while she stroked me and purred with anticipation. As soon as my tongue gently touched her clit, her tongue made the exact same teasing contact with the underside of my tip. She laughed mischievously and quickly took my cock in her warm, wet mouth, flicking her tongue around the head on the upstroke and massaging my shaft as it went back deeper. My head swimming with pleasure, I dove into her pussy, sucking on her clit, holding it between my lips and letting my tongue run over it again and again as she gasped in delight between trying to deepthroat my cock.
“Oh yes!” she moaned as she came and her body spasmed. I kissed her mound gently and turned myself around, grabbing her ass and pulling her towards me.
“Are you going to fuck my pussy baby?” she asked, writhing her hips towards my hard, twitching cock. It was only a month ago when she first scared, and then delighted me by playing with it between rounds. That night, as I took a breath between unsuccessful attempts to put on some specialty condoms far too narrow for me (bought to accommodate for her sensitivity to latex), she rubbed my swollen tip on her clit, moaning.
“It has to go in,” she gasped.
“Of course it does,” I replied.
“No, no, you don’t understand, it has to go in,” she said wide-eyed and I saw and felt my bare cock move deeper into her mound, parting her soaking wet pussy lips.
“Hold on, hold on, let me try to put on another condom…” I started to protest.
“No, no, it has to go in now, right now!” she cried.
How can I possibly describe what I felt next? As her pussy fell onto my cock, I was truck mute, overcome by the warmth, wetness, and softness that seemed to radiate through my entire body. Involuntarily bolting upwards, like Frankenstein’s monster brought to life by lightning, I suddenly found myself seated, with her grinding her hips into me, her arms and legs wrapped around me, whispering sweet words I couldn’t quite hear into my ear…
Lost in time and space, feeling nothing but my sweet, wonderful Madame X’s embrace, her electric kisses, and her breathy coos in my ear, I suddenly felt something unusual to me. Since my very first sexual experience, it took enormous effort to actually reach orgasm, but with my bare cock in Madam X’s amazing pussy, I felt the pressure building. I’m not sure how I withdrew from her, but moments later, everything flashed white, my body felt lighter than a sheet of paper, and there wasn’t a single thought in my head.
“What happened?” I exhaled, shuddering. “What… what just happened?”
She kissed me and showed me her perky double Ds streaked with my cum.
“You came baby,” she laughed and kissed me again.
Now, in my new place, naked, with her legs spread, a devilish smile, tenderly brushing my stomach with her fingertips, she ached for me to be inside her. I rubbed her clit with my tip and before she could nudge me inside, slipped it in, pushing as far into her as I could go. She wrapped her legs behind my back as I slid my forearms under her shoulders and proceeded to drive into her hard, slow, and deep, just the way she liked it. Her lustful moans and grinding hips, and arching back were like a concert to me, a concert I never wanted to end.
“Baby,” she purred, “I need you to cum in my pussy. Please cum so I can cum with you, so I can feel your throbbing cock inside me…”
I shifted my pace, going slowed, but harder, deeper, grinding into her longer to her approving moans, letting the pressure inside me build up, clinging her tighter…
As I felt myself cum deep inside her, I felt her muscles tighten as a delighted moan escaped her lips a few moments later. “Oh my God, yes, just like that,” she whispered, her body lightly quaking. In the real world, it’s hard to get such perfect timing and she wanted to bask in our success.
A few minutes later, after we cleaned up and caught our breath, I took her hand and stood up, pulling her with me.
“Any other part of the apartment you’d like to break in next?” I asked.
“Hmm… why don’t you take me from behind in the bedroom and we see how it goes?” she winked.
She spent the night and the next morning with me. After all, Madam X was a lady and a lady should always stay the night if she so wishes…
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