As I raised my glass to let the guy I was flirting with
know that I was married, the very sexy man I’d seen
when I first entered the hotel ballroom came over and
whispered in my ear, “I’ve been watching you all
evening, and I want you,” before he threaded his way
out of the crowded room.
I smiled at the guy I’d been flirting with, then turned
to follow the sexy red-haired man. I smiled at my
husband before leaving the room, but I’m not sure he
saw me. The redhead was waiting for me by the
elevators. As we rode the elevator, I could feel my
panties getting soaked. I’d started getting wet the
moment I saw this man. He seemed vaguely familiar, but
I wasn’t sure if we’d ever met. I kept getting moister
every time I noticed him looking at me throughout the
evening. When he whispered “I want you” back in the
ballroom, I could feel the spigot in my pussy open.
I’d been married to Bob for five years since the mid-
1970s.
He was very proud of my looks and always wanted to show
me off. He’d even wanted me to fuck other men, but I
limited myself to giving the guys I flirted with
handjobs or blowjobs. I always told Bob everything
about these encounters, and he always encouraged me to
go further, but I hadn’t yet. In the two or three
months before the conference party in the hotel
ballroom, I’d even stopped going out with guys to give
them handjobs or blowjobs, as I’d gone off birth
control because Bob and I were trying to start a
family. He seemed a bit disappointed that I’d stopped
going out with other guys, but his attempts to get me
to continue flirting seemed half-hearted to me.
So what was I doing in this elevator with this
stranger? I don’t know. He was certainly sexy with
immense animal magnetism, which you might expect from
salespeople at a salesmen’s convention, but Mr. Red
seemed to have more than most. He’d gotten my pussy wet
just by looking at me, but I certainly hadn’t planned
on doing any more than just looking. Something about
the way he approached me even though I was flirting
with another guy, and then whispering “I want you”
after I flashed my wedding ring set, snapped something
inside of me. I wanted this confident man to be the
father of my child.
My pussy was positively squishy as I stepped off the
elevator with Mr. Red. I think he started smelling me
in the enclosed elevator, but I was even wetter now, so
I think he could smell me as we walked down the hall to
his room. I know I thought I smelled even stronger to
myself in the hall. I knew I was going to get fucked,
hopefully multiple times. I hoped his technique was
good enough to get me off at least once, although I
suspected that my own desires would help me orgasm.
I was going to get fucked! While not a virgin when I
married Bob, I wasn’t really a party girl either. I was
too afraid of catching some disease, and most guys
didn’t want to fuck using a condom. While I enjoyed
flirting (I still do, 30 years later), I was looking
for a serious relationship with someone I could marry.
Having a reputation as a slut wouldn’t catch me the
kind of guy I wanted to marry. Bob was (and is) my
ideal husband, and until that night, I’d been faithful
(except for handjobs and blowjobs–Mr. Clinton, I
sympathize) to him. Now I was going to get fucked for
the first time since my marriage to someone other than
my husband.
By the time we reached his door, I could feel my
wetness dripping down to my stocking tops as my panties
overflowed with my juices. Once we were inside, Mr. Red
kissed me and I kissed him back. He raised my skirt and
pulled my soggy panties down while kissing me. He felt
my pussy and knew I was ready. I stepped out of my
panties and heard a zipper, then he pushed me against
the wall while still kissing me, raised one of my legs,
then pushed himself into me in one long stroke. God! He
was a lot thicker and a lot longer than anyone else I’d
ever fucked! I was coming even before he reached the
end of my pussy.
Feeling him lightly tap my cervix put me into a
gigantic orgasm. I don’t know how long I came, but when
I finally became aware of my surroundings again, I
noticed my blouse and bra were gone and Mr. Red was
having his final spasms inside of me. That’s not quite
correct, as he came inside me at least twice more
before I left his room.
He pulled out and said, “Take off your skirt and get on
the bed on your hands and knees. I want you again.”
When he said that, I realized we hadn’t said anything
to each other since he whispered “I want you” ages ago.
As I did as he said, I said, “I hope you got me
pregnant!” I’m not sure why I told him, but I noticed
my words stiffened his cock.
He said, “I like fucking a woman in all three holes
before letting her go, but I’ll forego one to have
another shot at your tight pussy. Have you ever given a
blowjob?”
I nodded and he asked, “Have you ever been fucked in
the ass?”
“No,” I said softly.
“Good,” he said. “I like taking cherries. I’ll go slow
and easy and make it feel good for you. I promise.”
Then he pulled me to the edge of the bed and lined up
his cock with my asshole. He scooped our combined
juices out of my pussy and put some in my ass. He did
it again, this time using two, then again with three
fingers. He did it one more time, stretching my
asshole. Then he put his cock in my pussy to coat it
with more of our juices before pulling it out and
putting it to my asshole.
His fingers had widened me a bit, so he was able to get
most of his cockhead in. He pulled out then back in
again, each time getting a little deeper. After no more
than four strokes, his cockhead was in my ass. He’d
apply steady pressure to get in as far as he could,
then start fucking to slowly loosen me up. He repeated
this until I could feel him against my stomach. He was
completely in me. Just the idea of getting fucked in
the ass by an expert kept me from tightening and
hurting myself. When he reached around and played with
my clit while fucking my ass, he made me come. I was
amazed. I was having an orgasm with a dick in my ass!
The very thought made me come again. I stopped worrying
about whether or not Mr. Red could me an orgasm.
He didn’t make me come as hard as I did when he fucked
me standing against the wall, but all orgasms are good!
At first, I’d said, “You’re making me come!” when I
came, but he fucked me so long, that I shortened my
speeches to “Again!” and eventually to just “Ungh!”
when I became wordless. I’m normally pretty articulate,
but he was fucking me into incoherence.
Eventually, he came in my ass. After he pulled out, he
rolled me onto my back and turned me around so that he
could put his cock in my mouth. “Clean me,” he said.
He’d fucked me so deep into submission that I willing
took his shit-smeared cock into my mouth and cleaned
him. I enjoyed it, too, but not the taste–just the
idea of being his slave. I also swallowed when he
pulled out. Anything to please him.
He said, “You didn’t have to do that, but I like it!
Come on, get up! I need to wash my cock and you need to
rinse out your mouth!” he said, laughing at me. I
didn’t mind.
“Do you really want me to get you pregnant?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Why?”
“Your cock is much better than my husband’s, and you’re
a much better lover. Also, there’s something so strong
and attractive about you that I want to pass on to my
child,” I replied. We were at the bathroom sink.
“Well then, I don’t want to get any bacteria in your
pussy, so wash me clean and then rinse your mouth out,”
he said. “There’s mouthwash here, if you want, or you
can use water if you prefer,” he said, pointing to the
various items.
Back in the bedroom, he said, “I’ve fucked you twice.
Now I want to make love to you,” and he did. He did it
very well, too. I certainly felt a lot of love from him
this time. He also gave me plenty more orgasms. I
passed out for a moment, feeling him come inside me.
When I awoke, he was smiling down at me. “Do you need
to go back?” he asked.
I looked at the clock and bolted upright. “Is that the
time!? Oh my god! Bob’s going to be worried! I have to
go!” I got up and started dressing myself. I could see
there were runs in my stockings, and they were crooked,
but getting dressed and back to the ballroom was my
first priority. Once dressed, I looked in the mirror
and was shocked. My make-up clearly said that I’d been
more than naughty. Rather than take the time to redo
it, I cleaned it all off my face. Mr. Red said, “Man,
you look good that way, too.”
I kissed him lightly and left. My already-soggy panties
got soggier as Mr. Red’s juices leaked out of both of
my holes. The tops of my stockings were soaked by the
time I reached the ballroom. There was still a small
group of people there, including Bob. He smiled and
came to me when he saw me. He looked at my face and
knew something was wrong. He started sniffing and
immediately knew what had happened, as he smelled not
only my scent but also a male orgasmic scent wafting
from the bottom of my skirt.
He turned me around, looked back into the room and
said, “I have to take care of my wife. I’ll talk to you
tomorrow,” and led me back to the elevators.
We were alone in the elevator, so I started telling him
about my activities this evening, leaving nothing out,
but afraid he’d be angry. Silly me! This was the sort
of thing Bob had been encouraging me to do since
shortly after our honeymoon! Bob got hard and was
kissing me as the elevator doors opened to our floor.
He had his hand up my skirt and under my dripping
panties while walking down the hall to our room.
In our room, Bob kissed me, pulled down my panties,
unzipped himself, lifted one of my legs, and fucked me
standing against the wall just as Mr. Red had. He took
off my blouse and bra while we fucked, but I wasn’t
having orgasms so strong that I lost track of things
this time. Bob did everything to me that Mr. Red did,
so Bob was the second guy in my ass, but I made him
wash his cock before letting him put it in my mouth or
in my pussy again.
Finally Bob was fucked-out. He smiled at me and asked,
“So what was this guy’s name?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say much, and I said even
less.
We never asked for each others’ names,” I replied.
“Wow! Your first zipless fuck!” was Bob’s reaction. “I
hope you do it again!”
If I did or not, I’m not telling.
Epilogue
Nine months later, I gave birth to a beautiful auburn-
haired girl. About a month later, we took her to visit
first Bob’s parents and then my parents. It was while
visiting Mom that I learned of Mr. Red’s identity. I’d
nursed the baby and gotten her to sleep, and Dad and
Bob went out to do manly things (whatever they are).
I was looking in Mom’s Bible when I found an old photo
of a teenager who looked an awful lot like a younger
version of Mr. Red. When I went out to asked Mom about
it, she turned bright red and then deathly pale. “Put
that back!” she shouted. “Put it back now, young lady!”
I put it back in her Bible. I asked, “Who was it?”
“You don’t need to know!” she replied sternly.
“But, Mom…”
“NO! I’m not going to tell you! You don’t need to
know!” Mom obviously didn’t want me to know who this
teenager was. I needed to know who the father of my
daughter was.
I said, “I think he’s my baby’s father! Who is he?”
Mom was in shock. She said, “What?! NO! It can’t be!
This can’t be happening!”
“It IS happening. We barely exchanged ten sentences
with the man, and we never exchanged names. Now who is
he?” I demanded.
“Oh God! I’ll tell you. Does Bob know?” Mom asked,
maybe to delay her day of reckoning.
“Yes. I told Bob right after I left Mr. Red, which is
what I’ve been calling him,” I responded.
“Bob didn’t mind?!” Mom asked.
“No, in fact Bob was thrilled I’d finally realized one
of his fantasies and fucked another man. We did the
same things Mr. Red and I did once we got back to our
room. Now stop delaying, Mom! Who is Mr. Red!?” I
demanded.
In a small voice, as small as she could make it and
still be audible, Mom said, “He’s your father, your
real father.”
Now I was in shock.
Mom continued, “Have you never wondered why you have
chestnut hair while both your dad and I have black
hair? Have you never wondered why most of the kids your
age in this neighborhood have reddish hair?”
“I thought it was normal,” I said meekly.
“No, it’s not. It’s all because of…” and she said his
name, his real name. Because I’ve read other stories
here about this fellow by pskao, I’m going to use the
name in them and call Mr. Red “Dan” as in the other
stories.
Mom then proceeded to tell me what she knew of Dan in
our town, and how he’d impregnated many of the women in
the neighborhood, including some, like the preacher’s
wife and the Sunday School teacher and his own mother
(!) several times. The rumor was that Dan’s mother
convinced him to stick with married women so as not to
get any unmarried women into trouble. As far as Mom
knew, Dan kept to married women.
Most of the women in town knew who the father of the
redheaded babies was, and Mom thought some of the men
did too. Still, some of the redheads my age had married
other redheads, even though they were probably at least
half-brother and sister. Mom said that all their babies
seemed to be smart and healthy though, although all of
us redheads seemed to be hornier than the blonds and
brunettes.
Mom said there’s a new crop of redheaded babies being
born, and Dan isn’t their father. She thought his kids
are getting married women and each other pregnant. Dan
hadn’t been around enough for him to have done it.
Mom told me to teach my daughter what Dan had taught
many of the women he’d gotten pregnant: Teach her teach
her own son (if any) that “no” means no, and boys
should stick to married women to avoid causing problems
of a unwanted pregnancy to a unmarried girl.
As I’ve had a taste of incest, I sometimes frequent
relevant websites. I read pskao’s stories about Dan,
wrote my own, and sent it to pskao to post for me. It’s
been around 30 years, but that evening is still the
best sexual experience I’ve ever had. I still
masturbate to those memories. I wish I could’ve met Dan
again. At any time over the past 30 years, I’d have let
Dan, my father, Mr. Red, impregnate me again.