What He Doesn't Know Won't Hurt Him

Emily was in her mid 30s, taller than average, and slender. She had toned arms, long, strong legs from running, and a firm butt from playing college soccer. She was pretty and outgoing with a warm smile. She'd been happily married about a decade and had two kids.

She loved her work, but she hated the networking that came along with it. As an aspiring partner at her firm, she found herself having to put in several hours a month at work-sponsored evening social events, which kept her away from her family.

This evening, she was in a crowded, dimly lit hotel bar. She had just attended an industry conference, which consisted of listening to hours of trite panels, and sitting on one herself. Now she was attempting to unwind with a couple drinks while putting in the bare minimum required socializing with her coworkers.

She was just about to make a covert retreat to her hotel room to get a few hours of sleep before her flight home the next morning when a stranger approached her, cutting off her path to the door.

He was tall, dark, and handsome, as strangers tend to be in stories like these, and smiling in a way that told Emily he was used to getting his way.

"Surely you weren't leaving," he said. "The party's just getting started."

Emily quickly appraised him. He was wearing a dark suit that looked expensive, and his broad shoulders and chest filled it out well. It briefly occurred to Emily that he would've been exactly her type, in another life.

"You know, I actually was. I've got an early start tomorrow. You enjoy the rest of the party for both of us though."

He smirked at her, a hungry look in his eyes, and she could tell he liked that she was going to make him work a little bit.

"Have one drink with me," he said, signaling for the bartender. "What are you having?"

Emily acted as if she were considering, even though if she was being honest with herself, she was enjoying the attention. It had been ages since she'd been openly hit on like this. Things were great with her husband, but after so many years together, there simply weren't many thrills to be had anymore. Nothing wrong with having one more drink, she reasoned. This was supposed to be a networking event, after all.

"Fine, I'll stay for one more. I'm Emily."

He flashed his charming smile again, and held his hand out. "I'm Andre."

She extended her own hand, letting his envelope hers nearly completely as he gently shook it. "Are you here for the conference?" She asked.

"Something like that," he responded, winking cryptically.

One drink predictably turned into several. Emily found Andre to be confident and smooth without being off-putting. She had lost track of the time, and before she knew it she was laughing at his jokes and lightly touching his shoulder. Eventually, he made a show of looking at his watch, and remarking on how late it was.

"Would you like to come up for a night cap?"

Emily giggled, as if the idea were too silly to even consider.

"Oh I'm sorry if I've given the wrong impression, but I'm happily married." She held up her left hand to demonstrate her ring, as if he hadn't already noticed it.

"And where is your dear husband? Is he around? I'd love to meet him." Andre looked around the bar dramatically.

Emily giggled again.

"No, he's back home. Probably sound asleep by now, in fact."

"Well in that case, what he doesn't know won't hurt him, will it? And besides, it's just a drink between two friends."

Emily cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, we're friends now, are we?"

"I certainly thought so." Andre leaned in conspiratorially. "I'm in 517. Feel free to come join me. If not, it was lovely meeting you, Emily."

And with that, he walked away. Emily admired his boldness. She knew the game he was playing, but that didn't make her immune from its influence, especially after several vodka sodas.

Before her conscience could get the better of her, she grabbed her purse and hurried after him toward the elevators. As the doors opened and she stepped in, her finger hovered between the buttons for the fifth floor and the third, where her room was. She considered her husband, the father of her children, home alone, asleep in their bed. And then she considered the forbidden excitement she felt at flirting with Andre, and subtly admiring the shapliness of his body in his suit, and, perhaps most of all, the flutter in her chest as his large, warm hand hand swallowed hers. Just the thought of his flesh surrounding hers so completely overrode any good judgement she had left. Her finger stabbed the button for five.

She strode down the hall to 517 and confidently knocked on his door. After a long enough time that she nearly began to reconsider, Andre opened the door. His jacket and tie were missing, and his shirt was unbuttoned, exposing his dark, muscled torso. Emily felt her heart catch in her throat.

After a beat, she said, "Well, aren't you going to invite me in?"

He quickly recovered from his obvious surprise and stepped aside, bidding her inside. She stepped past him and the door gently clicked shut behind her.

She did a slow lap around his room, surveying it, as if it weren't identical to hers. He approached her, stopping just out of arms reach. She looked into his eyes, and made a decision.

She stepped closer to him, reaching out a hand to caress his chest and stomach. She admired his bulging muscles, and imagined what it would feel like to have her own body pressed against him.

He put his hand against her cheek, and she reflexively gasped at his touch. She looked up into his eyes again and saw burning desire. He leaned his face down toward her, cautiously at first, until she craned her neck, meeting his lips with hers. He began to kiss her ravenously, his tongue dancing around hers. His large hand moved around to the back of her head, pulling her insistently toward him. His other hand had snaked around behind her, squeezing her ass.

She let herself be consumed by his embrace, experiencing a thrill she couldn't remember ever feeling before. Their tongues swirled each other, his hands caressing and squeezing her all over. Eventually she pulled back, taking a big breath.

"Take your shirt off," she said excitedly. She kicked her heels off and took a seat on the sofa. He did as he was told and pulled his shirt down off his body. She leered at his swollen pectorals, rounded shoulders, and thick arms. She beckoned him over to her.

As he approached her, she hooked her fingers into the waistline of his pants, looking up at him hungrily. She massaged the prominent bulge in front of his slacks, teasing him momentarily. He let out a groan.

Finally, she relented, undoing his belt and fly, and letting his pants fall to his ankles. After only another moment's hesitation, she pulled his briefs down with them, meeting his large dick at eye level. And it was massive indeed. At least eight inches and thick around as her wrists. Her husband wasn't small, but he could certainly not compete with this. She let out a nervous chuckle, imagining how she was going to contend with it.

He seemed to know what she was thinking, running his fingers through her hair, and said assuringly, "We'll go slow."

She encircled his shaft with her fingers, her fingertips not quite meeting, and began to slowly stroke him. His fingers gripped the back of her head encouragingly. After a few moments of that, he moaned again.

"Mmm that's it, baby."

She could feel herself getting wetter as he continued to swell in her hand. With her other hand, she reached up and cupped his balls, eliciting another vocal response from him.

He looked down at her, his thick fingers still woven in her hair.

"Open up," he instructed.

She did as she was told, and attempted to open her jaw as wide as she could. He fed his swollen tip between her lips and she relished the taste of it. He gently pushed a couple inches into her mouth before pausing, letting her acclimate. She swirled her tongue around his taste, savoring his salty pre-cum, before backing up to give her jaw a brief respite.

He chucked. "That's okay, baby, you take your time. We've got all night."

She looked up at him and smirked, accepting the tacit challenge. She parted her lips again, relaxed her throat in a way she hadn't since college. Again, he began to feed the length of his shaft into her mouth. This time she was able to take significantly more. He began to adopt a slow thrusting motion, in and back out, until he found he was hitting the back of her throat. His quickened his pace, appreciating her resilience.

Tears and spit and pre-cum were running down her face. She had reached under skirt and pulled her underwear to the side and was furiously fingering herself as he fucked her throat.

"Yeah, baby, you like choking on that big dick, don't you?"

She moaned her agreement. Finally, he pulled his length from her throat, strands of pre-cum dripping from her face, allowing her to catch her breath.

"Fuck, that was good," she panted.

"I'm glad you liked it because there's plenty more where that came from," he said.

He stepped fully out of his clothes and picked her up by her waist, carrying her to the bedroom. He tossed her onto the bed, letting her bounce on the mattress before descending upon her. He grabbed her underwear, a lacy black thong, and pulled them down, exposing her dripping pussy.

He kissed her inner thigh, gradually working his way up. He began to kiss and lick her lips, circling her clit with his tongue, while gripping her thighs tightly. She began to squirm beneath him in ecstasy, moaning as he continued his oral assault. Her hips bucked against his face and he reached beneath her, squeezing her tight ass cheeks.

Finally she couldn't take it any more. "FUCK Andre I need that dick right now!" She yelled.

He pulled his head up from between her legs, grinning laciviuously at her. "Yes, ma'am."

He allowed her to sit up and remove the rest of her clothes. He spun her around, placing her on her hands and knees, admiring her taut ass. He gave her a good smack, causing her to squeak in surprise.

Then he put one hand on her hip, the other on his considerable shaft.

"You sure you're ready for this, girl?" He asked.

"Just give me that dick," she commanded.

Not needing to be told a third time, he positioned himself at her sopping opening, and gently but firmly pressed inside her. She gasped in surprise and arousal as his girth began to stretch her. He had both hands on her hips, slowly but insistently pushing more of himself inside her.

She was panting and moaning as she took more and more of him inside her. He paused, to allow her to adjust to his size, but she was soon demanding more. Before long, he had fed his entire length inside her, and was bottomed out against her ass.

"Ohhhh fuckkk meee," she whined. "You feel so fucking good."

He gave her cheeks another smack, leaving a large handprint. He withdrew his dick almost entirely, before thrusting back in, causing her to again cry out.

"Fucking hell, Andre, fuck me with that big dick," she begged.

He gave her what she wished for. Gripping her hips tightly, he quickly increased his pace, pistonining in and out of her, the sounds of his pelvis smacking against her ass and of her moans of pleasure filling the room.

He removed one hand from her hip and grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back, causing her back to arch even more. Her noises had degraded to an inhuman, animalistic quality as he continued his assault.

Minutes passed, although to Emily they felt like hours. His pace quickened and she could tell he was nearing climax.

"I'm on birth control," she panted.

He merely grunted in acknowledgement. He continued to pound her, still gripping a fistful of her hair, bludgeoning her insides.

Eventually he let out a primal grunt as he finished inside her, filling her womb with cum. He slowly withdrew his dick, slathered in her juices, and gave her ass one last smack for good measure. She collapsed onto her stomach on the bed, his seed leaking out of her gaping pussy.

"Oh, fuck me, that was good," she said as she caught her breath.

He chuckled, satisfied with a job well done. "I'm glad you liked it. I take it you haven't been fucked like that in a while."

She rolled over onto her back. "Not ever, actually."

"Well if you're ever in town again, feel free to hit me up for another dick appointment," he said as he strolled into the bathroom, his skin glistening with sweat. "As long as your husband doesn't mind, that is."

A knot formed in her stomach as she remembered her husband. She lay on her back, starring up at the bedroom ceiling, Andre's cum leaking out of her stretched pussy, wondering whether or not to tell her husband about this. Andre's words from earlier in the evening came back to her. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, indeed.