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By Tualatin
#105364
Chris had indeed teased the crap out of Rick. Until one day, just after Rick’s divorce, they had both polished off a bottle of wine mid-afternoon and shortly before I returned home she had pulled him into her and he had squirted his cum into her. Yes, she had made certain that he fully enjoyed the sensation of sliding into her oh, so tight blonde cunt! On that occasion, she had kindled a flame of passion in him that had consumed him. Never the ladies’ man, he had never had the chance to be with a woman like Chris. He had never had a woman like Chris whose perfect body and tight blonde cunt could not only milk out a man’s cum, but bend him to her will. He was smitten, mad with lust.

But, Chris, was never again interested. She left him despairing, broken-hearted. Aside from that one drunken tryst, leaving the trace of sandalwood scent that had later haunted me, Rick and Chris had never been lovers. I could forgive Rick’s moment of weakness because I knew him. And I knew Chris. He was powerless in the face of Chris’ gravitational well of sexuality.

Rick may have thought of getting a hidden cam of her to catch her in the act so as to “blackmail” her into sex as Chris had suggested. I didn’t think so. More likely, it was just as Rick had said to me: however “pathetic,” he just wanted to see Chris and enjoy watching the perfect body that he had had only once. Consumed by passion for his friend’s wife – something so foreign to his nature and against his core values – he had been tormented into silence. This Chris knew and she took advantage of their secret by parading before him with all her slut goddess powers. She had, indeed, announced how he was “not into gingers.” She had indeed let him glimpse her half clothed, asking him how he liked her undergarments as she paraded before him before seeing a lover. “It’s just like a bathing suit,” she had said. She had teased him to madness. That is what she does.

She had indeed, before his eyes, let strangers in a bar hook their fingers into her blonde tight cunt, knowing all the while that he could not report back to me lest his own betrayal be revealed. Chris had set up, with her low cunning, a situation of “mutually assured destruction” and correctly concluded that, in the end, at the time, she would prevail in the exchange and my friendship with Rick would be lost. It was Rick’s commitment to our friendship that tormented him far worse than anything I could ever do and it was that friendship that Chris held hostage against his complicity in her infidelities.

My heart went out to Rick, so hapless, so foolhardy in love, so enmeshed. He was my friend, but he had slipped, and understandably so. At the low point in his life post-divorce a beautiful Siren had bewitched him – as she had me in her time – he had done something that he longed for, but deeply regretted. He was ashamed, but also had the moral fiber to be ashamed. And, poor fellow, he was in love. He was not wrong when he said that Chris left a trail of wreckage behind her. He was part of that wreckage.

He was, I knew, not the first man who has schemed to get the woman of his dreams. It was not Rick or Rick’s connection with Chris that had ended our marriage. It was Chris’ serial infidelities: with her boss, her co-worker, her clients and who knows who else. And, to be fair, it was because I, too, had been blinded to her true nature and ignorant of her history.

Rick had been celibate for a long while and filled his dance card with nice women for whom he had no passion. Following my divorce, he remained hopeless. He was still scorned by Chris who continued her rampant sexual liaisons, while attempting to manipulate me into an ongoing connection to gain my financial support – which she did, for a time. Rick was still burning with an unconsummated passion until that fateful night when he played the hero.

I had wondered about that evening. I had wondered why Rick suggested we leave our dinner early and swing by Chris’ apartment so early when in all likelihood she should have been out for hours longer. Yet we did indeed pass by her apartment. And wasn’t it just too much of a chance that we would see her pull up with Karl in his Corvette and the scene of the near “date rape” unfold literally before our eyes? A situation for which he was prepared by his vocation? A situation that showed him in a new light – that of a hero? A situation where he would be amazing.

A situation which he had staged. I knew that now. I was certain.
By Tualatin
#105404
You see, when Rick was escorting the would-be date rapist Karl back to his car and playing the role of security and protector, as I had gone in to check on Chris and Rick had taken care of the date, I distinctly recalled him saying, as they descended the steps, “Okay, that’s enough. That’s enough, Ian.” But I wasn't sure. It just stuck with me. At the time I thought he had simply used a common name as a ploy, like calling a guy “Dude” or “Mac.” But Ian? Or perhaps I hadn't heard. The name on the hidden cam had been Karl and, undoubtedly, Rick didn’t want to reveal the name he had heard on the cam or he would have had to reveal our spying. So, he suppressed it. But in the excitement of the moment, he called the attacker, who I believed had used a false name, by his real name. How had he known Ian’s name?

In a flash I had seen it all: shy Rick teased mercilessly by Chris and, on one occasion, after his divorce, being granted the privilege of fucking Chris. Then being teased and watching her finger fucked by others, tortured, but unable to reveal it to me. Chris covering up what they had done with her evident dislike of “gingers” but just to protect herself if he ever came clean with me, suggesting he was into her (which was true) and that he was trying to blackmail her (almost certainly false). What was true is that Chris craved the attention and Rick’s adoration and teased the fuck out of him. And that Rick had fallen in love with her. He had hit upon a means which would show him off in his best light and give him a shot at what he desired most. He had hired an associate to fake a date-rape. Who knew how far it would go? Perhaps the fellow he hired, this Ian, himself got carried away. But, Rick’s plan had, in the end, worked. He was the hero. He rescued the damsel in distress and he got to make love to the woman of his dreams – no longer my wife. And not behind my back, but with my express permission.

The heart wants what it wants. That night when Rick had passionately made love to Chris and she had yielded to him forever changed him, bonding him to her and, perhaps, her to him. Not bad for a man desperately and hopelessly in love. Not bad at all.

So, in his small shiver of a shake of the head, he had been begging me, as a boyhood friend, as a friend he had betrayed, as a man, as a man in love, to not take from him his shot at happiness, however misguided.

I understood. He was a good man in the grip of forces beyond his control. And, I did not envy him. I pitied him.
By Tualatin
#105469
There was in that instant, an emotional sea change. A moment before I had relished the power of getting Chris down on her knees in front of me, contemplating my pushing my cock into her mouth, holding her blonde head down until she gagged, first on my girth and then on my spurts of cum down her throat. And not only for pleasure, but to have Rick to have to stand and watch as I fucked her pretty face in front of him, the face of his "beloved," payback for his screwing her behind my back. Now, as she stood there beside Rick, my thoughts were strangely altered. It took just a moment to retrieve the hidden book cam and it took just a moment to realize that I would let Chris go and give Rick a chance at happiness or misery.

Just a moment before I had torn open her robe, revealing her tight body, her firm breasts capped by erect pencil eraser nipples, her flat tummy, narrow waist, with the trimmed blonde pubic hair of her vulva still matted down by the cunt juice and cum of our frenzied fuck of just minutes before. It would been an act of ultimate vengeance aimed at humiliating both Rick and Chris, forcing Rick to watch the object of his new-found love fellating me in front of him and showing Chris, once more, to be a piece of meat, a cunt, a whore. Now she had covered herself with her robe and was under Rick’s protection.

Part of me still felt the pull. I wasn’t sure what would happen. But, I thought of pushing her back to her knees, having her blow me, and then fucking a load off into her tight blonde twat right in front of Rick. Why? Because I could. It would not have been an act of love, or even lust, but one of power. It would have been an act of vengeance, striking out against Rick and not entirely undeserved at that. After all, Rick had screwed my wife behind my back, lied to me, and tricked his way into Chris’ cunt and anus with the “staged” date-rape. I remembered him pushing into her anus even as she rode me, so that I could feel him complete her double penetration along the length of my cock as he pushed into her tight bowels, recalling vividly the feeling of his hanging red-pubed testicles brushing against my own as we shared Chris’ toned body.

In a way, dark forces pulled me towards such a payback. It would have been so easy. I would have just had to tug her robe open again, then I would have pushed her to the floor and told Rick, “You shouldn’t have screwed my wife behind my back.” I would have spread Chris’ tight thighs and felt her squirm beneath me, resisting at first, then yielding as I slid in to her blonde cunt already lubricated with her juices and my cum from our fuck shortly before. I knew exactly how it would feel. Her concave stomach and hips would rotate under me, clutching my cock with her muscles and snapping my cockhead in and out, my dark hairy balls snugged up against her golden down. I would have pushed deep into her, shooting spurt after spurt of sticky cum into her. And best, after her initial reluctance, she would have wrapped her thighs across my back and spasmed in orgasm, in ecstacy, while Rick stood helplessly watching the woman he loved groaning in pleasure as I pounded my load into her.

But, amazingly, I resisted this pull.
By Tualatin
#105524
I did not have high hopes for their success together. After a while, it seemed likely that Chris would call or wander or betray him. But, my heart went out to him. He was where I had once been. Although disaster was written on their future, perhaps Chris would be true to him and change her ways. This was a forlorn hope. As slender a reed for joy as the future offered them, I felt both jealous that they might find together what I had not been able to find and serenely content that I could be free of the passions that had enthralled me and obsessed me for years. I knew that I would not interfere with their chance.

I reflected on some poetry I had learned many years before when my heart was younger, Matthew Arnold’s “Dover Beach”:

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.

I felt no desire to add to the pain of the world.

I rested my hand on Rick’s shoulder and kissed Chris on the forehead, saying softly to Rick, “Be happy” and saying to Chris “Be good.” Then, leaving the future in the hands of others, I gathered my things and left, closing the door to her apartment behind me. As I went down the stairs, I felt lighter. And free.
By Tualatin
#105569
Epilogue

It has now been some years since the events described above unfolded. Chris was never able to find work in the real estate field in the area. Her reputation had been destroyed. Screwing customers to try to close deals (unsuccessfully) in empty homes will do that. As Veronica had so aptly answered the question: “What do you call real estate agents who sleep with customers to close deals?” “Whores,” she had said. The image of my pretty blonde wife spreading for strangers continued to be a troubling image. I just tried not to think about it. But, as they say, that which you resist, persists.

For those who have congratulated me on my being able to free myself from my entanglement with Chris and my striving for nobility, let me assure you that it still remains a battle. Hence, this story. I found Chris to be an addiction for me. I continued to dream about one more chance of sliding into her athletic body, running my hands over her concave tummy, playing with her upright pink nipples and sliding into the tight, well-lubricated sheath of her blonde cunt, and ejaculating a huge load deep into her. I put myself, with more or less success, on a “methadone” program: on the hunt for women who looked like her or who I thought might fuck like her.
By Tualatin
#105643
HotGomez,

Thanks for your kind comments. I've received some private messages wanting to hear more. I'm open to responding to any questions, of course. Again, thanks for your kind attention and thoughts throughout.
By Tualatin
#106150
Feel free to post here any questions you have about "the rest" of the story. I did not mean that only private messages would be considered. Thanks for your attention and making my contribution one of the most viewed ever.
By Tualatin
#108159
Life - and love - goes on. Which means the inevitable heartbreak of moving on, the breathless hopes and disappointments. It also means the physical pleasures of bedding a woman for no other reason than she caught your eye and using the User.
Let me know what you want to hear about.
By MrPicky
#113132
In 1975 I had a much shorter romance with a similar woman as your Chris. I was no less intense about it and it went on and off for many years and through both my marriages and all five of hers. We don't talk anymore and probably will never again. Too many facets to cover here but I will say that she was a great fuck. Loved to take chances when she was young. Natural blonde, great body that pregnancy at 15/16 sort of screwed up and made it difficult to maintain. It aged her physically very badly. She started young at 14. I think her mother's brothers led her astray and she never figured out how to deal with it.

She craved attention from men and all were older until she was around 40 when she had two or three boy toys in their 20's for a year or two. Our affair was when she was 22 and I was her 40th sex partner. By that age she had had her son and her first marriage. The pregnancy had left her once proud "B" cups with huge nipples as two deflated skin bags she had to prop up with bras stuffed with various things. It also left her with a weight problem she struggles with yet today 47 years later. She was 5' 7" and had to work to keep it under 130#. She is now probably more like 165# with a big, still well shaped butt and thunder thighs. She had a boob job in 1978 up to a "D" cup. Like your Chris, the boobs changed her attitude greatly about her looks and she loved to show them off. She was not hesitant to be naked anymore. She made it through college and taught school for three years. Second marriage lasted 18 months. Third was a lawyer 20+ years older but she learned a lot from him about life and he put her through law school. It lasted five years. Fourth lasted two years.

She went through an incredible number of well educated men who used her like your story's girl. Some were quite off the wall considering their backgrounds. She has never learned to like cock sucking. She moved about some and finally settled down about an hour from here. At 40 met her 5th and married him at 42. Not a particularly good marriage but they have lasted over 20 years. By the time she married this guy she had run her number up to 325+. She settled down but she is one of these women that at 50 or so something threw a switch inside her and she lost all interest in sex with anyone. From 14 to 50 she was as hot as you see and had the looks to get fucked most any time. Beautiful long blond hair, great baby blue bedroom eyes and a sexy smile. She had let herself get picked up and picked off hundreds of times over those years and had sex with most of them. I don't know or understand what it is that happens to women like her who go from scalding hot to near ice cold almost over night. On the other side of that coin, I have known several women that once they go through the change or have hysterectomies they turn into near porn stars. It is a shame for her to have wasted herself all this time. She just turned 66 and even though 35# overweight, still looks pretty good.
By Tualatin
#113153
Thanks for sharing Mr. Picky. Chris has still maintained her figure and still is an attention whore. Fortunately, I have moved on. Now, the memory and the fantasy are so much better than any real-life relationship with her would be, that I can truly say I am not tempted. Maybe, not THAT tempted would be more honest.
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By MironComics
#113533
Jocko64 wrote:Oh and incidentally my wife is natural blonde (believe it or not but no pubes to prove it, she is bald. She is a firm advocate of "blondes have more fun" !
I don `t believe. I once had a blonde girlfriend and she was very quiet and shy even though she was very beautiful, especially her chest had big round boobs. Ironically, she did not like being blonde, she painted her hair black so I think hair color does not define personality in adsoluto
By Tualatin
#113695
Miron,

I agree with you. Hair color does not define personality. But, in this society, certain physical traits that are prized - body type, hair color, etc. - can put extra pressure or attention on a person and may affect how they act. For Chris, she couldn't handle the extra attention and that, combined with deep issues in her background mentioned above and character flaws, led to behavior described. It is deeper than hair color for sure.
By Tualatin
#115268
Well, it finally happened. I got with Chris for a one night stand this weekend. I'd been on a steady diet of brunettes and I guess I wasn't about to turn down a trip down memory lane with a natural blonde.

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