Summary of this Story:

I walked into Ray’s Shaker Heights home for a steak dinner, not knowing his wife Mel would eye my height, and more, in the living room over Buds. Their college kids upstairs, Ray pitched watching me fuck her in the basement man cave for a big sale. I railed Mel on the hide-a-bed sofa, her warm moist velvet gripping my eight-and-a-half inches as she bounced and came hard. Ray joined for double penetration, her thighs quivering against me under fluorescents. Days later, his daughter Ellie called, having heard the muffled cries. Lunch at Panera sparked kisses with vanilla lip gloss. Dates led to her apartment, where she straddled me, stretching around my girth in missionary and doggy, orgasms rippling as I filled her twice. Sleeping with her golden tresses on my chest felt right, yet the family’s web pulled tighter.

Here is your Story: Caught in the family’s subtle seduction

Just a Lonely Guy

Anthony Bradshaw. That’s me: just a lonely guy. Friends and family call me Tony.

I grew up in a mostly white suburb outside Cleveland. My dad and I stuck out. He was a black dentist married to a white woman, my mom. Back then I wished we’d been all black or all white. Mom stood five-foot-eleven. Dad topped six-foot-four. I shot past both at six-foot-five.

Like Dad, I played football and basketball in high school. You couldn’t tell he’d ever played from his current gut. My only sibling, Maddie, hit six foot but claimed five-eleven. I starred in both sports, made all-district teams two years running. At two-forty, I worked tight end and strong forward. College at Ohio State saw me start three years in the same spots. Wasn’t fast for the NFL. Didn’t have the hops for the NBA. So I took my management degree and landed sales rep at a big firm.

Dated plenty in college. Never found anyone special. Girls fixated on my size, height and weight aside. White ones worst. Sorority girls worse than independents. Maybe wrong crowd.

Pattern held in business. I turned heads: hazel eyes, dark hair, light almond skin from both parents. Dressed sharp. Friendly to secretaries, assistants, agents, white or not. Sales boomed. Yeah, I slept with female buyers for deals. Otherwise, knew products cold. Put service over sales. Smart salesmen do.

The Weirdest Deal

Weirdest deal: male buyer. Invited me to dinner at his house in Shaker Heights. Son and daughter home from college. Five of us ate steak and baked potatoes. Post-dinner, me, him, wife drank Buds in the living room. She harped on my tallness. Made clear by night’s end it wasn’t the six-foot-five.

She hit the bathroom. Husband spelled it out. Wife craved my length. He’d watch me rail her, or skip if it bugged me. Whole thing squicked me. But sizeable sale loomed. Wondered if he’d pitch same to a white guy.

Wife? No issue. Fifteen years older, sexy blonde, five-nine or ten. Plugging her stirred me. Turned me off when he asked if I hit eight inches. Calmed down. Figured no meant lost sale, trashed rep. Told him, “Yeah, longer than eight. Your wife’s hot.”

He pressed: “Tony, you never said if I could join.” In for a penny. “Sure, Ray. Wait for Mel?”

She returned. We headed downstairs to his man cave: big flatscreen, leather sofas, recliners. Her conservative dress? For the kids upstairs, I bet. Basement muffled cries. Fridge hummed low against cinderblock walls.

Down in the Basement

Ray: “After you know Mel better, double penetration?” Hated the ring. Couldn’t refuse. Nodded.

Mel sat me on the sofa. Attacked my pants. “Good stuff now.” My semi? Near eight inches. Pants and shorts gone. “That’s it!” Tongue out, saliva dripping onto the carpet. Sucked like pro. Full erect: eight-and-a-half, maybe more.

Turned her back. Zipped her dress. Hands up, she expected the full strip. Oversized boobs complicated it. She ditched bra. I yanked panties past wide hips. Tongued clit and slit. She stopped me: “Real deal!”

Straddled. Guided my cock in wet channel. Warm moist velvet. “Oh God!” Kissed me. Bounced, chattering: “Filling me up. Feels so good. Fuck harder. Don’t stop!” First orgasm spasms hit quick. Kept going. Second: “Cumming like never before.”

“Cum inside? Fill my cunt with man juice!” Fine pussy. Expert game. Exploded. Longest load ever, balls spasming, cum blasting her depths. Not bad. Sweat beaded on her collarbone under the basement fluorescents.

Afterglow: “So good. Want more.” “Cleaned” me orally. Rod stiffened fast. “Ray, lube? You in ass, Tony in pussy!” Pulled hide-a-bed from sofa. Ray fumbled lube from a drawer cluttered with coasters and remotes.

“Tony in first. Stay still till Ray’s in. Okay?” Nice pussy. No burden impaled. Felt great. Held erection while he prepped her ass. Her thighs quivered against my sides.

Ready. “Don’t be gentle. Fuck the shit out of me!” Ray climbed on. Drove most strokes, their weight pinned me. Did the job. She came as he bottomed out. Felt his six-ish through the wall. Orgasms every few seconds. He lasted ten, fifteen. Pulled out. His spent dick slapped her back once.

She rested. Then pounded me cowgirl. I came. Guessing thirty, forty from DP alone. Sucked me hard again.

Ray: “Worn out. Bed. See you office tomorrow, big order. Night!”

Doggy on sofa bed. Rammed home. Firecracker hot. Came near minute. Thirty minutes. Insatiable. Big client day tomorrow. Third load in her pussy. Dressed. Adieu.

Door kiss. Phone number request—”more in a week or two.” Gave it. Hoped weeks, not days.

Less than week: unknown number. Not Mel, didn’t want her yet. “Hi Tony, Ellie!” “Ellie?” “Dad said Eloise. Friends call Ellie.”

‘Ohmigod.’ “Yes, remember you.”

“To the point. Know what you did Mom.”

“What can I do?”

“Mom’s sounds? Want to meet.” “Not ‘not what it sounded like’?” “Fucking of lifetime?” “Guilty. Explanation won’t help.” “Meet? Talk. Nice guy away from parents.”

Lunch day after next. Prurient but nicer than folks. Alone. Lunch couldn’t hurt. Panera near the office, steam rising off broccoli cheddar bowls.

Least prejudiced guy. Fine marrying race, mine? Mixed.

Lunch: histories. Sophomore, pre-med. RN? MD? DDS? Dad dentist, she hoped to meet. Told athlete-not-pro. Big disappointment: no sharer.

She played field. Wanted special, hers alone.

Post-lunch class. “Kiss cheek, can’t reach.” Leaned. Turned trick, lips met. Hesitated. Kissed back. Attraction hit. Her vanilla lip gloss stuck to my chin.

“Amazing first kiss!” Over shoulder: “Wasn’t it?” Call-me sign.

Called. Date Wednesday. Italian spot off the beaten path. Lakeside dive bar after, not every student’s. Danced, Bud Lights, talked fast or slow. Jukebox thumped Toby Keith.

Mood mutual. No apartment, Thursday class. Full kiss: tongue, back-butt massage. Responded. No further. “No Saturday class.” Friday ask-out.

Mexican with seafood. Coronas. Apartment bound. Tour. Bed flop. In.

Kisses fire. Bra pop: “Naughty boy!” Smiling. Caressed. Helped blouse. Attacked my shirt. Skirt zipper. Zipper teeth rasped loud in the quiet room.

“Usually not fast. Really want you.” “Amazing woman. Same.”

Topless. Lace panties. Fondled tits, kissed licked. Rubbed wet spot. Moans panted, we both.

Off panties. Licked clit slit. “Feels good. Right there! Cumming!” Kept at nub, fingers in slot. Exploded again. Bucked. “Died to heaven?” “More coming.”

Slacks boxers off. Hand on near-erect: “You or horse?” “Me. For you.” Closer to mouth. Kissed licked head. Inch-two sucked. Blood rushed full.

“Sorry, can’t deep. Want in vagi, maybe not all.” “Fine. Slow. You’ll adjust.”

“Never this big. Try!” Tongued slit clit. Moaned. Two fingers, three. “Good!” Licked button, fingered cunt. Orgasm two-three minutes.

Main event. Inch in labia. Good. Withdraw. Two-plus. “Stretching, loving. More.” Slow deeper each. Hands on shoulders, pull push? Enjoyed. Progress heaven. Warm wet wild velvet. Bottomed. Arms legs locked. “Wonderful. Don’t stop!”

Cumming! More before pussy milked me dry.

Kiss hold. Semen done, cheek touch. Lower kiss. “Master.”

“Don’t move, stud. Jif!” Bathroom: scooped cum, licked fingers. Sexy. Flush. Back.

Flaccid grip: “Back!” Sucked clean hard. “Again? Loved first.” Endearing simple.

Doggy. Slid in. Loved as missionary. Twenty minutes, orgasms every two-three. Filled again.

Bathroom return. Cuddle fondle twenty. Mouth, cock attention, erect. Worried overdo. Half hour, unloaded. Positions swapped. Affectionate. Little white hand near love bite.

Sleep: golden tresses over chest, head centered. Evening replay. Special girl. Sleeping near talking near screwing. Ellie shifted once, her elbow digging into my ribs, then settled with a sigh against the pillow’s frayed tag.