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Archive-name: Affairs/specdeli.txt


Archive-title: Special Delivery

      Veronique lay under her husband Roger, riding his swollen

    cock for all it was worth. He was prodigiously endowed, a

    solid 10 inches, with heavy, firm balls. He plowed away at

    her with rigid detachment; trying so hard to make it last

    long enough for her to cum. Almost without warning he came;

    grunting and sputtering as his hot sticky cum splashed her

    insides and ran down the crack of her ass. She screamed, 

    "Yes, oh, Roger, fill me with your hot cum!" They lay

    together, hearts pounding until he rolled off her and drifted

    off to sleep. Safe from discovery, her tears rolled off her

    face as she sobbed silently.


      "Why, yes, we'd be happy to deliver that Mr. Fontaine.

    Today? Um, well, I'll have to see who we have available for

    drivers." "Tom, there's no one left to make a delivery today.

    Ronny's gone to Hampstead and Billy's leaving early," I

    offered. "This is Fontaine," Tom explained, cupping the

    receiver; "he's placing a good order." "See if he can wait

    until tomorrow, and I'll drop it off after we close."

      "Must be nice to be loaded," I thought, placing a case of

    Cheval Blanc beside the mixed case of Domaine de la

    Romanie-Conti and Domaine Meo-Camuzet. $1900 worth of wine in

    two cases. It was worth going the extra mile for customers

    like these. The 25 minute drive was over in a flash; I'd made

    it before and took a few shortcuts to avoid the construction

    induced delays on the highway. I enjoyed the smell of freshly

    mown hay as I traveled down the country road before turning

    into the driveway of this most impressive home. Roger

    Fontaine was a former NFL cornerback, a two time pro-bowler

    who'd played for the Steelers in 3 superbowls before an

    unfortunate injury to his anterior cruciate ligament ended

    his career prematurely.

      I parked next to a black Ferrari GTO in the spacious

    driveway. What a machine, I thought, as I inspected an

    automobile that cost more than my condo. Athletes' salaries

    are so insane, I mused.

      I went up to the front door and rang the bell. Ferdinand,

    the male servant, answered the door with the kind of

    arrogance that only servants to the filfthy rich can muster.

    "Is Mr. Fontaine in?" "No, sir, he'll be out for the day. May

    I help you?" "I have a delivery for Mr. Fontaine's cellar;

    two cases of wine." "Oh, yes, the delivery entrance is around

    back. I'll meet you there." And he turned to leave. I suppose

    he wasn't discourteous, but the cold detachment, the "I can

    scarcely be bothered with you" attitude was really quite


      I brought the car around to the rear entrance, and popped

    the trunk. Grabbing the Cheval Blanc, I moved towards the door

    when a movement in the pool area caught my eye. A gorgeous

    woman was getting out of the pool. Must be the wife, I

    figured. Ferdinand appeared presently and let me in. I took

    the case down the stairs and put in on a large wooden table

    in the cellar. I went back and got the other one, and placed

    it beside the first. I looked about the cellar for just a

    minute. Impressive. Verticals of a number of Bordeaux, some

    prime vintages of burgundy, major california varietals.

    Better than even my personal cellar, in sheer volume of

    impressive wines. If nothing else, Fontaine had exquisite


      As I got back to the top of the stairs, Mrs. Fontaine was

    there. She'd put on a cotton wrap, but it really did little

    to hide her beauty. I tried not to appear awestruck. "How

    much do I owe you?" she inquired. "Nineteen-hundred and

    seventy-five dollars," I answered, almost apologetically.

    She didn't even bat an eye. Ferdinand supplied the checkbook.

    "Thank you, Ferdinand. I won't be needing you anymore today."

    "Very well, Madam. Good day." And he left.

      I couldn't help but stare at Mrs. Fontaine. Her delicate

    and feminine features were most alluring. Long chestnut brown

    locks were pulled back in a pony-tail. I was close enough to her

    to smell some very expensive perfume. Fortunately it was as

    light and delicate as her beauty and not overpowering or

    cloyingly sweet. I surreptitiously inhaled deeply, closing my

    eyes. Exquisite. I opened my eyes to see her looking at me

    with considerable amusement. I blushed deeply and wanted

    nothing more than to get the check and disappear. "You like

    that?" "Um, yes, it is a most delightful scent." "It's called

    Jungle Gardenia." She handed me the check. "Thank you very

    much," I blurted and turned to leave, but her hand touched my

    arm and I couldn't bring myself to move. 

      "It's really quite warm out, could I offer you something to

    drink?" Meanwhile, her feminine touch on my arm is setting

    off deep primordial urges in my loins. "Um, sure," I breathed

    nervously. I thought to myself how utterly unsmooth I was

    being. "What would you like? We have all sorts of wine, we

    have beer, a full bar-- Ferdy's gone for the day so you'll

    have to fend for yourself. There's wine in here," she

    drawled, indicating a half-size refrigerator. I chose an

    alsatian riesling. "'Screw?" I asked. "Um, I mean, corkscrew."

    There I go blushing again. "Sure, to both questions." She had

    the corkscrew in her hands. When I went to reach for it, she

    pulled it away. She did this twice. Then I put my hand out,

    palm up, and she put the corkscrew into it. I opened the

    bottle without further ceremony, and filled the two Riedel

    crystal glasses she had produced. I savored the bouquet of

    the wine, inhaling deeply. I nodded and took a sip. Crisp and

    lively and fully dry in the traditional alsatian style. Most


      She put her glass down and before I knew it her arms were

    around my neck. I was very nervous. Christ, if her husband

    showed up I'd be leaving in a plastic sack. "Relax," she

    whispered reassuringly, "he won't be back today. He's off to

    San Jose on business." I put my glass down, put my arms

    around her waist and asked her what on earth she wanted with

    me. Her face clouded and she pouted for a second. "My sex

    life is tremendously unsatisfying. I haven't had a real

    orgasm that I didn't give myself in months, maybe years. My

    husband is hung like a horse but he thinks that's all there

    is to sex. Foreplay is minimal when there's any at all, and

    he never, you know, eats me. So I never cum. I have to fake

    it to save his ego." "Wow, that was quite a mouthful. What

    makes you so sure I'll be any better?" She never really

    answered. "Just shut up and kiss me you fool." 

       Our lips met and it was electrifying. Our bodies melted

    together and I ran my hands over her back as we embraced. Her

    hungry tongue pushed its way into my mouth and our tongues

    swirled together in a timeless oral pas de deux. Our collective

    breathing deepened. Finally I broke the kiss. My initial

    reservations were rapidly being consumed by the insatiable

    fire of lust.

      She grabbed her glass and took a sip. "Brilliant choice; I

    love it." She turned and walked away, to my extreme confusion.

    She turned back, "Well come on!" I didn't need to be told

    twice! I grabbed the bottle and my glass and followed her. I

    walked directly behind her, watching her graceful curves and

    movements. She was rather feline, I decided, as I watched her

    move. No doubt about it, this was one hot woman.

      We went up the stairs to her bedroom. I began to relax and

    enjoy myself. Here was a beautiful woman about to exchange

    mutual carnal knowledge with me. Life could be worse! She sat

    on the edge of the bad. "Um, Mrs..." "Veronique," she

    interrupted. "Oh, Veronique" I said, employing my well

    developed french accent and noticing how she crinkled her

    nose with enjoyment as she smiled when I said it, "you have

    beautiful hair." I stroked it, decided the ponytail was a

    problem, and undid the bow which held it up. Her chestnut

    locks cascaded over her shoulders. It was much nicer to touch

    this way. I brought her head to my chest as I ran my hands

    through her silky hair. She purred contentedly. I put my

    glass on the nightstand, touched her face and brought our

    lips together. 

      More electricity. Our mutual lust was spreading, growing in

    strength and urgency. We devoured each other's mouths. Hot,

    sweet kisses here and there; tongues probing, tasting,

    loving. I opened my eyes and her face was lightly flushed.

    "My, but you're an excellent kisser!" she exclaimed. "Oh, I'm

    quite oral," I laughed. Her eyes danced with anticipation.

    Her hands flew to my shirt and deftly undid each button. She

    put her hand inside and felt my firm pecs, gliding her hands

    through the forest of chest hair and gently tweaking each

    nipple in turn and then together. It felt so good. I took

    another sip of my wine as she did this, then put the glass to

    her lips and tipped it carefully. "Mmmm, that really is good,

    isn't it?" she inquired. I nodded.

      I stood her up and removed her cover up. Her nipples poked

    through the fabric of her expensive french bikini. I pulled

    the top off, and her breasts stood proudly before me.

    Perfectly formed, creamy white and firm, they were like

    melons ripe for the taking. I caressed them softly, kneading

    them gently, urging further nipple arousal. She whimpered

    softly. "Your hands," she whispered. "Tender touches..."

    Her nipples were wildly erect now, virtually screaming for

    some attention. I leaned over and licked over a nipple with

    deliberate slowness. A tiny, feminine gasp escaped her lips.

    I did the same to the other one. I stood, and grabbed the

    bottle. I lay her on her back, and poured a few dribbles of

    riesling over her nipples and breasts. I quickly kissed up

    every drop. Her pulse quicked with every kiss and nibble. I

    dribbled more. Kisses and licks swabbed up the wine, and the

    occasional odd nip kept her off balance. "Oh my God, I can't

    believe how good that feels!" she squealed like a child.

      I was getting almost dizzy, between the rush of blood into

    my now aching penis and the alcohol in my bloodstream. I

    pulled off my pants to release some of the pressure, and

    dropped my underwear as well. I was now fully naked, with my

    pulsing pole standing at attention. I skillfully hooked my

    fingers under her bikini bottom, and slowly pulled it down to

    reveal a well trimmed bush. As she spread her legs, I could

    see her pink-brown lips were distended and glossy with

    arousal. I kissed the top of her mound, and she tried to

    bring her clit in contact with my tongue. "All in good time,

    Veronique," I teased. I wanted her frustration to continue,

    for now at least. I refilled my glass, finishing the bottle.

    I pulled the rest of the capsule off the top and held the top

    in one hand as I toyed with her pubies with the other. She

    was squirming now, so I leaned over and took a nipple into my

    mouth and sucked- hard. Her vocalizations became less

    intelligible, but the message was clear. She loved the way I

    was playing with her.

      After a few minutes, the top of the bottle was warm, and I

    maneuvered myself so my cock was at her tit level. "Rub my

    cock on your tits," I instructed. Soon I could feel her ripe

    breasts and hard nipples under my raging pecker. I spread her

    legs apart and began running my fingers along her lips,

    spreading the wetness around. She was getting quite charged

    from all of this. I began to play with her pussy with the

    slender wine bottle. Like many german wine bottles, those of

    Alsace are long and tapered. I would soon put these

    attributes to good use. I began rubbing her clit with the

    bottle, then I went back down along her slit. She looked up

    to see what I was doing, the sensations were so different

    from anything she'd experienced. I leaned over and licked her

    burning pussy with long up and down strokes. She shuddered in

    pre-orgasmic bliss. I worked two fingers into her and

    massaged her g-spot for a minute or two. Her excitement was

    reflected in her expanding pussy. I slowly and carefully put

    the bottle against her vagina and pushed steadily until it

    started to go in. A cry from the other end of the bed made me

    stop. "No! Don't stop!" I began a careful in and out motion,

    working the bottle in a little more each time. I got four or

    five inches in, and the bottle was getting pretty big around

    at that point. I didn't want to stretch her too much. I

    leaned over and after a few manipulations of the bottle and

    some neck craning moments, I was able to tongue her swollen

    clit. It took less than 10 seconds to push her over the edge.

      She came, screaming, writhing, hot snatch pulsing around

    the glass intruder. She was completely incoherent, thrashing

    and moaning. I stopped licking her so she could relax, and

    slowly slid the bottle out of her crack. She lay panting next

    to me, but hardly finished. She rolled over on top of me and

    began furiously sticking her tongue down my throat, tasting

    her own juices on my lips and tongue. She was like a woman

    possessed. Now she began biting and sucking my nipples, which

    got them very sensitive, as I played with her firm breasts.  I

    was on the verge of blue balls at this point. I've had blue

    balls more often than Papa Smurf, but that wasn't going to

    happen this time. She went down on me and slurped my bone

    into her mouth. She was an accomplished fellatrix, that was

    immediately apparent. Up and down, tonguing my balls, pushing

    my legs apart and licking over my anus; I was quickly being

    sent into orbit

      She looked up at me, slyly, and took my balls into her

    mouth while maintaining eye contact. It was intensely erotic

    seeing her suck my nuts that way. With a plop they fell out

    of her mouth and she began slurping on the purple head. Then

    she did something I found extremely intense; she began

    talking dirty to me with her mouth full of cock. She told me

    how she loved sucking me off and how she looked forward to

    tasting my hot cum. She kept it up for several minutes before

    my eyes closed involuntarily and I braced myself for the

    eruption. I began squirting hotly into her mouth; it was such

    a powerful orgasm that the first spasm lasted about 3 seconds.

    I must have spurted alot because she started choking.

    Then the spasms came closer together as I proclaimed my

    enjoyment. She kept up with it as best she could until I was

    done. I was actually seeing stars, I was hyperventilating so

    much. She wiped a few strings of cum off her lips, and lay

    beside me.

      She began running her hands over my chest and licking my

    ear, and I never really got soft. She straddled me and her

    hot muff slid over my turgid rod with silky smoothness. No

    wonder her husband couldn't hold it very long. She was

    exquisite, she'd clench her muscles and milk my cock, then

    ride more. I rolled us over so I could be on top. I had her

    put her legs together so my cock slid directly over her clit,

    then began pumping rhythmically. Our sounds together were a

    symphony of love. Sweaty bodies sliding together, desperate

    breathing, moaning and crying gave way to shrieks of pleasure

    as we climbed the plateau. Her body became rigid then

    quivered like a bowstring as she shot over the cliff.

    Incomprehensible cries filled the air as I joined her in

    a paroxysm of ecstasy.

      We lay there together, enjoying the post-orgasmic

    aftershocks. Nothing like servicing your accounts, I say.


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