Saying the Wrong Name in Bed
Alyssa called out the wrong name in bed. The problem was, it wasn't her lover's or her husband's.
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A female architect, Alyssa, and I had been working together for over three years as team leaders, designing and supervising the construction site of the most remarkable residential masterpieces in this country and abroad. Alyssa and I worked so well together because of our ability to read each other’s mind. Her talents were in interior design. I developed the structure around her designs to fit the client’s specs. By necessity, during the day we were almost inseparable, but when it was quitting time, we went our individual waysa: she to her husband and two young children, and I to my wife.
On our business trips we conducted ourselves in a most professional manner. Never did we express any romantic thoughts or longings. In fact, we rarely talked about anything that did not pertain to our work. We had certainly never flirted with each other. So it was very unusual that, during a trip to Aruba to inspect one of our most successful design projects, we should have a totally incredible sexual encounter.
We started our inspection in the basement and worked our way upward. After we had checked out the top floor, Alyssa insisted that she wanted to go through one of the skylight hatches to inspect the roof. She usually wore a loose-fitting blouse and jeans on these inspection tours. Even her office attire was plain and unprovocative, with business suits, long full skirts and dresses with closed necklines. She obviously didn’t want her gender to detract from business at hand. But on this day she broke from tradition by wearing a short-sleeve knit sweater and a wraparound skirt. A chain-link ladder hung from the skylight hatch positioned some twelve feet above us. I offered to go first, but she took the initiative and started to climb. In typical male fashion, I couldn’t resist taking advantage of the opportunity presented to me. I watched her climb as the full skirt swirled around her legs. Only then did I realize she wasn’t wearing panties.
What a tremendous effect that had on my dormant libido! I felt my love organ rise to the occasion in my shorts. Suddenly embarrassed by my actions, I lowered my eyes for an instant. But the temptation of seeing forbidden fruit made me look again. She had stopped at the top of the ladder to open the skylight. Her movements made her skirt swirl even more, which gave me an excellent view of her bareness. My organ began to throb relentlessly in my pants. After she opened the hatch, she looked down and gave me a long, lingering glance. Then she lifted her skirt and raised one leg to climb out onto the roof. This gave me a better view of her bare bottom and crotch, which I believe was her intention. I got the distinct impression that she wanted to get me thoroughly aroused.
When I joined her on the peak of the rough-hewn, shingled roof, she grasped my hand to balance herself against the stiff trade winds that blew across this Caribbean island paradise. Her hand trembled against mine as we looked into each other’s eyes. Smiling, she said, “Isn’t this a most beautiful child we have borne? I really appreciate the way you always make my ideas work. Did I ever thank you?” I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could get any words out, she whirled around in front of me and said, “I don’t think I did. So today, right now, I will personally thank you.” She leaned toward me and kissed my startled mouth. Then, putting her arms around my neck, she drew herself tightly to my six-foot frame.
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Photo by Viva
Her kiss was very passionate, and I responded by clutching her tightly and parting my lips. Her tongue was quick to dart all over mine, and our breathing quickened. She slid a thigh between my legs, pressing her hip up against my crotch, which excited me even more. rubbed her cheek against mine and held me even tighter. Then she whispered, “Oh, Marco, my darling, I love you so much. Let’s fulfill our desires by making love.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Especially since she called me Marco and my name is Joel. Who the hell was Marco? I knew her husband’s name was Peter, which certainly didn’t shed any light on the mystery. When I didn’t answer, she continued. “Please Marco, let us make love right here. Right on top of the highest peak. Right before God.” This lady is completely off her rocker, I thought to myself as she pulled away for a moment, but I decided I’d go along with her fantasy. In one quick motion, she grasped the bottom of her sweater and pulled it over her head. I watched in amazement as she flung it into the wind, which carried it far beyond the roof’s edge. It logged momentarily on some palm fronds before dropping out of sight. My eyes were drawn back to her braless tits. Her teacup-shaped breasts had long, brown nipples framed by silver- dollar-size areolae. My hands instinctively went to them, and as my trembling fingers tenderly caressed the warm, firm flesh and perky nipples, she let out a loud moan.
“Yes, Marco, my lover. Enjoy my body. Do with it as you wish. Here, let me show you the rest,” she said, untying her skirt and opening it up for my inspection. Again she tossed the garment into the wind. It, too, sailed clear of the roof. Now she stood naked before me. I gazed again in sheer amazement at her well-manicured pubes. Just a few blonde curls hid the entrance to her pussy. With such a beautiful sight before me, I couldn’t resist the urge to touch that forbidden valley. As my fingers eased along the folds, she moaned with pleasure. When my fingers paused a moment, she said, “Oh, Marco, my dear. You’re so bashful. Come. Let yourself go.” Grasping my belt buckle, she undid it along with the zipper on my trousers. Then, tugging down my pants and shorts, she revealed my tremendous erection. “Oh, Marco, my dearest lover,” she continued. “You have such a nice body. Let me see more of it.”
Straddling the peak of the roof, she quickly knelt in front of me and pulled my pants to my knees. My penis sprang to attention, pointing straight at her. She wrapped her hand around my shaft, causing me to shudder involuntarily. When I felt something cool and wet on my rock hard organ, I looked down. Her tongue was licking my cock head and shaft. Her repeated strokes bathed my throbbing cylinder until it glistened with her saliva in the bright sunlight.
![](https://res.cloudinary.com/jerrick/image/upload/d_642250b563292b35f27461a7.png,f_jpg,q_auto,w_720/oasds3wsd1jffidmwxip.jpg)
Photo by Viva
Looking up at me with pleading eyes, she said, “Oh, Marco, you know I love the taste of cock. I want yours so badly.” She didn’t wait for a reply before clamping her lips around my dick. In just one powerful suck she had her lips past the engorged glans and down the throbbing shaft. One more equally powerful suck brought her lips to the edge of my pubic hair. I could feel the muscles in the back of her throat contracting, stimulating the tip of my cock, in an attempt to swallow me whole.
Though only her powerful mouth stroked my shaft as she clutched my bare hips, she seemed to sense that I was close to ejaculation. She quickly increased the pressure at the base of my cock to stave off my orgasm. This startled me sufficiently to regain the control I needed. Two more powerful sucks and her nose was plowing the wind-ruffled fur on my abdomen. Never before had I been blown by so gifted a cocksucker.
When I was again close to orgasm, she relinquished her vacuum hold on me and let my stiff organ slip out of her wet mouth. “Come, dear Marco,” she said, sitting down on the rough, wooden shingles and grabbing my legs. “Give me your delicious love-machine and make my aching pussy sing.” Lying back along the peak of the roof and balancing herself as best she could with her legs and arms sprawled out on the shingles, she repeated her offer. “Come, dear Marco. Put it right here,” she said, pointing to her wet slit. “Fuck me. Do it to me. I need you to fuck me hard.”
Carefully maintaining her balance, I knelt between her wide-open thighs. Before sliding my throbbing cock into her, I told her I wanted to taste her pussy. She said we should fuck first, and after we’d had an orgasm together, we’d have time to go down on each other. Not wanting to argue, I pressed the tip of my tool into her.
![](https://res.cloudinary.com/jerrick/image/upload/d_642250b563292b35f27461a7.png,f_jpg,q_auto,w_720/cgnmuzvknxqe2ugfshds.jpg)
Photo by Viva
When it made contact with her flesh, my cock stiffened even more. Her fingers grasped my organ and guided me effortlessly into her wetness. I did my best to balance myself on top of her, and found myself straddling the roof with my knees as I thrust into her. She asked me to suck her nipples as I repeatedly buried my cock in her hot, wet love-tunnel. When I paused to catch my breath, she was quick to shout, “Hurry, Marco. Fuck me hard. Fuck me fast. We need to screw, eat, swim, and sleep together before tomorrow, my sweet.” Renewing my efforts, I continued pumping into her. She met each of my thrusts with one of her own. I soon had my cock buried in her as deep as it would go.
Then she wrapped her cool, silky thighs around my sun-drenched ass-cheeks. This drove me even deeper into her, and I felt the nub of her clitoris rubbing against my pubic bone as we ground our pelvises together. My passion for her was growing by leaps and bounds as my cock buried itself to the hilt with each thrust. I knew my orgasm was rapidly approaching. Overcome with lust, I blurted out that I loved her. This revelation seemed to trigger the impending orgasm in both of us as we rocked together on the roof. As I continued to thrust into her with vigor, she whispered in my ear that she wanted my baby. She thought it was risque to think I might impregnate her. Just before I exploded, I yelled, “I’m coming! I’m coming! I’m coming!” “Oh, do it! Do it! Do it!” she encouraged me. Just as she uttered her last “Do it,” I exploded royally. I must admit, it was thrilling to think that we might be making a baby.
We screamed in unison at the top of our lungs as we thrust and pumped even more vigorously. Fireworks, thunder and lighting seemed to crash around us as gobs of my semen gushed out of me and into her. Fifteen minutes later, when the aura of that glorious orgasm faded away, we lay wrapped in each other’s arms, panting heavily. Playing with my slowly softening member, she smiled at me and said, “Thank you Marco.”
About the Creator
Lizzie Boudoir
Thrice married, in love once, overly romantic, and hypersexual.
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