The Dinner Guest by TheSexExplorer

(This story is the property of its author, H. K. Smythe. Any unauthorized reproduction or reprint without the express authorization of the author is strictly prohibited. Characters under 18 do not engage in sexual activity.)

(I must express my appreciation to Kenji Sato for his valiant editing effort, trying to improve my primitive product. I think he's been a huge help, but still you can blame only me if you don't like the product.)

The Dinner Guest

Mason Cunningham

It started when I was in high school. I had a couple of friends, Rob and Alex, who used to work on cars. We all took the high school course, Automotive Repair. For us, it was all about cars. We were all making A's in Automotive Repair but not doing quite as well in our other courses.

One day, after school, we were working on Alex's girlfriend's car. I was bringing a pitcher of lemonade from the kitchen, when Rob let out a scream. I had never heard anything like it. I hurried to the car to see what was going on. Rob continued screaming. Alex took Rob's hand and stuck it in the ice-cold lemonade. Rob quit screaming.

Alex said, "We have to take him to the emergency room."

As I was starting my car, Alex helped Rob into the back seat. I drove like a bat out of hell to County General.

Rob had a birthstone ring that he wore on his right hand ring finger. Somehow the ring had come into contact with an improperly insulated hot wire. The electricity going through the ring instantaneously heated the ring up. The ER doctor said the ring had probably reached over one thousand degrees before Rob's reflexes pulled his hand away. He thought he could save the finger, but Rob would be scarred for life. The quick action of sticking the ring in the lemonade pitcher kept it from being worse, much worse.

I tried to follow the motto, "Once burned, once learned," and even though it was Rob's burn, I vowed never to wear a ring again. After graduation, the three of us all got jobs as auto mechanics. After a few years, my boss recognized my easy way with customers and recommended me for sales training. As simple as that, I became a successful automobile salesperson.

We still met regularly, although I did get some ribbing about my exalted position. We decided to try to improve ourselves by taking courses at the local community college. Rob and Alex took a course in Automotive Technology while I took a course called Professional Selling. I sat next to a five-foot-eight bombshell. Rob, Alex, and I usually met after class at a nearby bar, and I asked the bombshell, who told us her name was Ellie, to join us.

Ellen Kramer was stacked like a brick shithouse. She was a large woman with a figure I estimated at 37D-24-37. By this time, fortunately for me, Rob and Alex were married. It turned out that my five-foot-eleven height allowed me to meet her face-to-face when she wore heels. The four of us had a great time, having a few drinks.

She told us she was a sales associate with a machine tool manufacturer. Rob and Alex had attended advanced repair courses, which included an introduction to automotive aftermarket manufacturers. They had witnessed machine tools in action, so they almost monopolized Ellie's time for a while, although as the evening progressed, her hand found its way to my thigh.

The married men left about nine-thirty, so they could be home by ten. Ellie and I closed the bar and then stopped by her place for 'coffee.'

The next morning I decided that she looked even better, naked in the morning light. thsn she had the night before. She had enjoyed my seven inches four times. We agreed to meet for dinner that evening. The rest is history. A few weeks later, she moved in.

Rob and Alex and their spouses often joined us for a sixsome night on the town. We also went to parties thrown by her friends, where Ellie was continually hit on. However, she always went home with me.

I proposed to her just after we had celebrated a New Year's Eve midnight kiss. Six months later, we were married and started life together in a suburban two-story six-bedroom home.

Five years later three of the upstairs bedrooms were occupied by our children.

Ellie had become very successful machine tool sales person, and my career in automobile sales was also going great guns. Her annual income varied with the size of the sales. Machine tool sales tended to be large but irregular. Some years she earned over a hundred thousand dollars in the first six months. Other years it took longer to reach six figures. The income from my auto sales was much more regular although I usually had an uptick at model year change-over.

I never wore rings because of Rob's high school experience, even though it was many years later. Even though I no longer worked as a mechanic, as a salesman I still was involved with the engines, including checking make-ready and occasionally dealing with a customer's complaint. Ellie used my recalcitrance as an excuse to wear her rings only on special occasions, like parties and nights out. I suspected that she was able to keep her customer's attention better if her marital status was unclear.

I never questioned her fidelity, and she was always an eager partner in bed. We decided to start working on a fourth child, which had been her plan all along. She was using a diaphragm as she had some medical issues with birth control pills.

Although we were both in sales, our patterns were much different. I tried to sell five cars a week, and only rarely did I discuss a customer with Ellie. When I did talk, it was more along the lines or meeting monthly, quarterly, and annual sales goals. Conversely, a great year for her would be ten installations. She did have some follow-on sales, but in terms of dollars and sales commissions, those were fairly inconsequential. She was motivated to provide good service by the possibility of a new factory being opened by an existing customer. Her commissions from a single sale were often twenty-five thousand dollars or more. Since each sale was so much more important, she did talk about individual customers.

One Friday night, she came home excited about a new customer. She told me that her customer, a Mr. Robinson, was coming to visit their factory Tuesday. He was opening a new facility, and if he signed up for the proposed amount the sale could generate a one-hundred-thousand dollar commission. Her excitement translated into the weekend of all weekends, as we must have done the 'dirty' at least twenty times. It was summer time and we had taken the children to my parents' east Texas farm for a ten-day visit.

Tuesday, on my way home from work, I got a call from Ellie that was an unfortunate portent of things to come. She told me that things were going well with Mr. Robinson, but that she hadn't gotten him to sign on the dotted line. She was going to try to close the deal Tuesday night.

He had asked her out to dinner and she was sure she could close the deal Tuesday evening; however, because it was late when they finished at the factory, she asked him to come to our house for dinner and hopefully the final inking of the deal.

Then she sent a knife through my heart. She said, "Honey, he thinks I'm unmarried. I told him I was living with my divorced brother and helping with his children."

I thought, 'What the fuck?' I asked her, "Don't you think that's taking things a little far?"

She replied, "I'm sorry, honey. It's just this is a big sale, and if I close it, we will be making around a hundred thousand dollars in commissions. I panicked when he asked me out. I thought it would be better if he were here, rather than at some club."

I could only say, "Ellie, just please don't forget. You are married. The four of us are depending on you to be here for us!"

She responded, "I can never forget that! I love you, baby!" and she hung up.

She started getting ready for dinner with Mr. Robinson. I was put in charge of cooking the rice for her jambalaya dish. Her planned menu was ham steaks, jambalaya, green beans, and corn on the cob. My second assignment was to prepare a tossed salad as an appetizer. I assumed the strawberry cheesecake that she had picked up on the way home would be the dessert course.

Early on, she seemed to be running around a lot in the bedroom wing of the main floor as I watched the rice and set the dining table for three and a three-course meal. When she appeared in the kitchen, she appeared to have a long gown on, but I couldn't tell exactly because her apron covered up a lot.

Promptly at seven-thirty, the doorbell rang. Ellie asked me, "That should be Mr. Robinson. Could you get it while I finish up here?"

When I answered the door, a huge Black man was standing on our porch. I came out with a classic line, "Mr. Robinson, I presume."

He proffered a huge black hand, and said, "Just call me DJ. You must be Ellie's brother."

I replied, "Guilty as charged. I'm Mason," as I took his hand, or more accurately, he took mine.

I informed him, "Ellie's still finishing up our dinner. Can I get you a drink?"

He asked for bourbon on the rocks. I asked if Southern Comfort was okay. He agreed. I opened a bottle of beer and poured it into a mug. Then I filled a cocktail glass with ice and poured several fingers of Southern Comfort over the ice.

I served him and asked, "DJ, did you play in the NBA a few years ago."

DJ admitted, "Yes, I did!"

I knew why he seemed familiar. I continued, "Darren Robinson, point guard for the Bulls."

We chatted briefly about his career in the NBA. Then Ellie entered the room. It was like time stopped. Ellie had worn the dress once before. It was on a Friday evening when the kids were at one or the other sets of grandparents for the weekend. It was a silk, apricot gown, floor length that nominally covered everything and actually revealed all. It showed every curve; even her nipples were clearly shown. It showed her boobs to full advantage.

She slithered onto the couch next to DJ, and spoke in a deep, sexy voice, "Could you get me a glass of white, Mason?"

I had seen her naked body many times but this tightly form-fitting bodycon creation was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. Every ripple of her boobs, tummy, and thighs was visible, even though covered by the thin material of the dress. It took my breath away; I could only imagine the effect it was having on DJ.

It was challenging to pour the wine without spilling because every move that Ellie made seemed to increment her intense sexual attraction. A glance told me two things about DJ - he was well endowed and he was not immune to the charms of my incredible wife.

As I was about to hand her the glass of wine, she asked, "Do I look okay, Mason?"

I almost choked but managed to hand her the wine glass without spilling it. I replied, "I think DJ would concur. If there were ten levels of okay, you would be an eleven or twelve!"

DJ commented, "I'm pinching myself to make sure I haven't died and gone to heaven! Mason, I don't think twelve is high enough."

Ellie giggled and said, "You guys!"

However, her eyes were not on me but on DJ, just as his eyes were on her. Even sipping her wine was incredibly infatuating. She had to hold her arm differently than a guy, because even without a bra, her massive mammaries forced her to move her arm differently.

DJ added, "I can't believe that this vision of loveliness has one of the sharpest business minds I have ever come into contact with!"

What did I expect? Of course, he was going to lay it on. The disappointing and unexpected part of it for me was Ellie's receptivity to his compliments.

She drank most of her wine and suggested we move into the dining room. As though it was his right, he held her right hand in his right hand and casually kept her close with his left arm across her rump. I took my usual position at the head of the dining table, with Ellie on my right, and DJ on her right. I had originally set the table with DJ to my left, but Ellie moved his setting to her side.

I retrieved the salads and dressings from the butler's pantry, and as I served them I noticed that DJ's left arm appeared to be engaged in a physical activity. I intuited that his activity was caressing Ellie's right thigh through the single silk layer of her garb.

When Ellie got up to serve the main course, I engaged DJ in a discussion of his NBA career. He told me, "All of that is behind me now."

He had taken a significant portion of his earnings and purchased a forty percent interest in Universal Auto Parts, the aftermarket manufacturer Ellie was trying to sign. This allowed the Pennsylvania manufacturer to expand into the Midwest, building a new factory on the Iowa side of the Quad Cities area.

As Ellie served the main course, she explained, "What we're most interested in now is the new Oklahoma City plant."

That turned the conversation into a detailed discussion of issues with the new plant opening. Unfortunately, it was at a level for which I had nothing to contribute. At that level, I couldn't even really follow most of it.

When we finished the main course, Ellie asked me to serve the cheesecake. I plated it and put the plates on a tray and then returned to the dining room. In recognition of my return, the two released their lip lock. Ellie's face was flushed, often an indicator of her arousal. Of course, DJ's complexion made it difficult to tell if he was similarly excited, but I suspected he was.

We were quiet while consuming the cheesecake, although as far as I could tell, his left hand was busily engaged in the vicinity of Ellie's lap.

After the cheesecake course, all three of us cleared the table and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

After that, I was summarily dismissed. I busied myself in our office, reviewing some just received new car specs. About the time I was thinking of switching to porn, I thought I detected footsteps and muffled voices heading in the direction of the bedrooms.

Ellie

I hated misleading Mason. Darren had taken me to lunch several times when he was in town checking on the construction of the new factory that I was trying to close a machine tool sales contract for. There was not only the order for the new plant, which might run over two million dollars, but there was also the possibility of re-equipping some of his older factories. He was by far the largest customer I had ever been trusted with. I didn't really want to cheat on Mason, but I was afraid that representing my husband and our children as my brother and his children was a major step in giving up what Darren had made clear that he wanted.

Another hard-to-justify step was moving my diaphragm and some of my clothing into the guest bedroom suite, preparatory to our dinner and I hoped, without Mason's knowledge. I didn't want to be unfaithful to Mason, but the combination of a colossal sale and Darren's animal magnetism would be a bad combination amplified by pre-, post- and during-dining alcohol consumption.

Dinner went smoothly and enjoyably with Darren being charming and spending most of the time caressing my right thigh through the very thin material of my gown. After we cleared the dinner remnants from the dining area, Darren suggested, "Mason, if you don't mind, your sister and I have some unfinished business to discuss."

I probably shouldn't have said anything, but I chipped in, "It shouldn't take us too long, Mason."

Mason raised his eyebrows and returned to our home office.

I fixed Darren and myself drinks, and we started talking about the deal, while still seated at the dining table. I could tell he was more interested in the contents of my silk gown than the details of the OK City factory installation.

He told me, "I'm not worried about the contract and you shouldn't be either. I have to tell you I've got a bit of a crush on you; you're smart, personable, and one of the sexiest women I've ever met."

He was rubbing my thigh. He continued, "You do know how sexy you are, right?"

I replied, "I don't know about that. I'm just trying to do a good job for you. I'm trying to take care of your needs."

He put his other arm around my shoulders. Then he moved his hand from my thigh to my wrist and put my hand on the bulge in his pants. It was huge. He leaned over and kissed me. I kissed him back, although I was thinking about the immense bulge in his pants. I moved my hand up and down. It was truly colossal. It must have been close to nine inches long with girth to match.

Darren moved his left hand from my wrist to my breast. His right arm, previously around my shoulder went down my back and partially unzipped my dress. He turned my head with his left arm and kissed me deeply. Having my breasts unfettered seemed to stimulate my nipples and make them even harder than they already were.

I was thinking, 'This may be my only chance to experience a cock like this one. I don't want to lose this sale.' He asked, "Do you have a nice room?"

I replied, "Yes, it's very nice. Would you like to see it?"

He responded, "I thought you'd never ask!"

I understood his drift. I took him by the hand and led him down to the guest room. We kissed standing in the middle of the room. He finished unzipping my dress and slid the support straps off my shoulders. I was totally nude. He moved my hands apart, exposing my breasts. He began licking the nipples. My arousal was rising to a fever pitch.

He guided me to a sitting position on the bed. He began rubbing my clitoris. I lifted my hips to increase the contact and he continued his caresses for a few moments. Then he rolled me over and lifted my hips so that I supported my upper body with my arms. He quickly removed his pants and began rubbing his monster organ along my perineum and my slit. I was already moaning, as he pulled back and then guided the head of his cock between my labia.

It was a tight fit, although by now I was very well lubricated. Inch by inch he worked his way into my vagi, each increment in penetration only adding to my pleasure. It took less than a minute for my love canal to be fully stretched and to contain the entire nine inches of his cock.

My first orgasm was on his third thrust into my poor little kitty. I couldn't help myself as I began telling the world about the intense pleasure I was experiencing, "Oh, Darren! It's so good! Deeper, Darren! Fuck me harder! I can't believe it! It feels so good! I've never been filled like this! Oh, Darren! You fuck me so good! More! More! I love your cock! Oh, Darren! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

It was beyond my control. It was the best fucking ever! He rolled me over into the drop box position. It was even better. He simply fucked me to orgasm after orgasm. I felt wonderful. He let me sit up and wrap my legs around him. It was as if somehow someone had turned on the switch for an orgasm machine.

We lay there. panting and sweating in the guest room bed. Then he put my hand on his rod of feminine delight. He was becoming aroused again. It looked like I would have no choice but to fuck him again. Of course, I didn't mind. If I hadn't just had the best fucking of my life, it was close enough to not care about the difference. Soon we were once again, nothing more than hot, rutting animals. It was wonderful. So was the third time, the fourth time, and the fifth time. I had been crying out my pleasure, but by now I was getting hoarse. My pussy was sore, too, but I didn't care. If he was determined to fuck my brains out all night long, I wasn't going to deny him. Then, we actually slept for a while.

When I woke up, it was light outside. The monster was erect again. I guess morning wood is a commonality between White and Black guys. I considered it my duty to take care of business. Unfortunately, the sixth time wasn't quite as sublime as our first five episodes. Maybe it was because I didn't get enough sleep, or because my poor little kitty was sore, or because I could barely whisper, much less cry out my joy. We showered in the ensuite and got dressed. I put on my usual business-day attire. Darren had to dress in yesterday's clothes. He would have time to go back to his hotel and change as he didn't have the same nine o'clock starting time schedule that I had.

The Dinner Guest

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