Quickie sex with Gerald? My husband? No, that wasn’t going to happen—or so I thought. 

Gerald was out of bed before I was. That rarely happens, especially on Saturdays. With one eye painstakingly kept in the darkness of my pillow, the other beheld my sexy husband with a towel around his waist and a cup of coffee for me in his hand. 

“Gracie. Grace, Grace. Let’s go to the nudie place today.” 

It was too early in the day (probably) for him to mean the strip joint. “You want to go to the nudist park? What time is it? You don’t like to be outside.” I mumbled all of that while peering over my coffee cup and willing his towel to drop. It didn’t, sadly.  

“The sun is up. Seventy-two and partly cloudy. We’ll leave if it gets too hot.” 

Oh, it would get too hot alright. My husband isn’t technically a pervert (I had him tested), but when he tires of imagining women without their clothes on, we go where he can give his imagination a rest. I was unsure as to why he wanted to go so early, though. 

“I don’t know, dear. You know how bashful I can be.” We laughed at my obvious lie. 

He convinced me as only he could. His towel unwound from his waist (yay!), and he ground against me from behind before sliding his cock up between my legs and along my slit, groping a tit with one hand, and fingering me to a quick orgasm with the other. “Pleeeze?” 

We went, of course, but I was suspicious. 

I wore a short, yellow sundress for the short trip there, and nothing else. I looked practically naked when the sunlight shined through it and, no, the irony of wearing it to a nudist park was not lost on me. 

“Don’t forget your sunglasses, Dear,” I reminded him. 

The (un)dressing room locker clicked shut, and I took a deep breath. Gerald was already outside when I emerged; he was facing to the east and standing at parade rest. I took in his sexy silhouette, proud of the pendulous cock hanging low between his legs. The polite onlookers had already begun looking on. 

Nobody stopped, but many slowed. Nobody stared, but many challenged their peripheral vision as they walked past. I answered the same questions over and over whenever Gerald was out of earshot. 

“Is he yours?” Yes. “Can you fit…” Yes. “Doesn’t it…” It can. “Good for you!” 

A few asked if I’d share. Even though God knows there’s enough of him to go around (and around), I wasn’t about to give permission. I’m not a hypocrite. I wouldn’t fault him if he wanted to wedge his whopper into another woman, but I certainly wasn’t going to welcome them. 

My usually modest Gerald took me to nudist parks whenever he wanted to get me worked up. I got off when he flaunted his phenomenal phallus, I got off by exhibiting myself, and, as much as I had teased him about his boob-watching ways, he knew how much I got off on the parade of cocks. I always brought my own sunglasses. 

~~~ 

You might wonder how a woman like me who prefers her sex in five minutes or less ended up married to a man who needs five minutes just to get it in. 

It’s a quick story. 

Back whenever I dated a man, I would wait before going to bed with him—sure, sure, but I had my reasons. I did (and do) enjoy a quick roll in the hay with a stranger, but if I liked him enough to look forward to a relationship, then I wanted sex to wait until I knew we were otherwise compatible. 

Gerald was at times goofy and clueless, but he was also very smart, and he carried himself with quiet confidence. One might suggest that a good portion of that confidence hung a long way down his thigh, but he had more going for himself than that. 

Our first time was at his place. We drank wine and kissed on the couch, which was sweet, but I wanted more and quicker. He had his hand up my dress and under my panties and now I know why he shifted away whenever I tried to put my hand between his legs. 

I took his hand and impatiently pulled him to his feet. “Where’s the bed, or do you want to do it here?” We held hands down the hall, and I was naked in his room before his shirt was off. I took care of that for him and when I reached for his belt, I saw his cock’s head poking over it. 

Oh, boy, I said to myself. For him, I might have only said, “Hmmm-mm.” My fingers fumbled over my good fortune, and I pulled his pants down. 

“Oh, fuck,” I said with excitement and fear. “Do you know how big this is?” Gerald nodded with a sheepish smile. “I mean, in comparison.” 

“Grace, I’d understand if…” 

Gerald understood nothing. I bounded onto the bed, kicked the covers out from under me, and spread ‘em. “Let’s dock that battleship!” I cried with my fingers alternately plunging into and pulling open my very wet pussy. 

Gerald kissed his way up my thigh and that confused me. “No-no-no-no. Next time. I want to be fucked and I want to be fucked now.” 

“Grace. Gracie, Grace. Trust me. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

I had never been accused of being naïve before and I didn’t think I was. “Nonsense! Get on your back and I’ll show you.” 

He did. I didn’t. I needed three hands: two to hold that cock and one to open myself up. “Help me!” I demanded. I didn’t know what to do to get him in more than a little bit. 

“Grace…” 

“I got this.” I anxiously swapped my pussy for my mouth and slobbered all over him until I had no more slobber left. I wet-humped him and tried again. 

“Grace, I have lube…” 

“No! I got this. Shove it in!” 

“Grace!” He took my head in his hands and made me kiss him. “I want this too. We got this.” Kissing helped. I rarely kissed but he was a good kisser, and the distraction was good. He held his cock and slowly inched it in underneath my undulating hips. 

“Gracie. Grace-Grace. That’s it, there’s no hurry…” 

I hated slow, but it felt good. He placed my head on his chest and kissed my hair. I whimpered and tried to hump it in. 

“Shh! It’s okay,” he said and moaned a little. 

He smelled good. I played with his chest hair and couldn’t remember ever liking how a guy smelled, or even if I ever took the time to smell one.  “I can hear your heart,” I told him, surprised. 

“I can feel yours,” he said. 

He filled me, two heartbeats in, one out, his cock touched my pussy everywhere, all at once. The sensation of feeling a man fill me like that was new and I liked it even though it took forever. Soon, I liked it because it took forever. “Gerald? I can feel your heart beating in my pussy.”  

And then it was in—all of it. That thrill alone almost sent me over the edge. This time, I kissed him first. Still lying on him, I etched circles on his torso with my nipples. 

I lifted myself upright and my pussy unclenched and clenched around his pole. 

“Aw, Gracie, fuck, yeah.” 

He leaned forward and sucked on a tit as I tentatively rose and settled. “Fuck, yeah,” I echoed. I owned that cock. 

I rocked, lifted, and dropped; rocked, lifted higher, and dropped harder. Gerald fell backward and closed his eyes. I fucked him harder and faster, gradually harder and faster, unable to believe how far I could raise myself and still have so much cock inside me. I cradled my tits to fetter their unchecked bouncing and Gerald grabbed at them and kneaded them. 

Then it happened. My orgasm slapped me, and I fell almost convulsing onto Gerald’s chest, my pussy spasming like it was trying to expel him. 

“Don’t stop,” he said and pushed me onto my back. My feet gripped his hips, and my knees were spread so wide that they almost touched the bed. He took control of his thrusts, unnecessarily slow at first. 

“Grace, let me know…” 

“Harder,” I huffed, digging my nails into his back. 

He fucked me like I liked to be fucked with quick, long, wild stabs into my depths. 

“I’m gonna…” 

“Do it!” 

With a final plunge, his cock pulsed hard against my pussy walls, and I joined him with another orgasm of my own. When he rolled to the side, an unbelievable volume of his cum mixed with mine poured out of my pussy and soaked the sheets.  

He pulled me close and with his thumb gently stroking my cheek, he looked me in the eyes and told me how beautiful I was. I rarely stuck around long enough to hear a man say that. 

How could I not fall in love with a man who made me make love? 

~~~ 

It would have been a perfect day for strolling in the nude if I hadn’t been so anxious about what my well-hung hubby had in store. There were too many cocks around me, and too many of those good-looking cocks belonged to good-looking men, any of whom I’d pounce and bounce if I only had five minutes to spare. 

My darling husband, under his hat and behind his sunglasses, was (more subtly than usual) swinging his head like a radar dish, saying loud enough for only me to hear, “D…D…C…A…D…B…C…” 

“Keeping count?” 

“Uh-huh. B…D…D…C…” 

“Who’s winning?” 

“D…C…A…” He lifted his glasses and winked at me. “I am. B…D…C…” 

That’s my man. He never met a tit he didn’t like. When he asked me how I was enjoying the view, I pretended as if I didn’t know what he meant and swiped away my leaking juices and wiped them on his butt. Of course, I had narrowed down the men that, given the opportunity, I’d have quickly fucked behind a tree or under a tree or up a tree—the kind of quickie that says, “Thanks for cumming, now get out.” 

I hated that Gerald wouldn’t take me home yet. His modus operandi whenever he brought me here was to get me so ready for sex that it only took four minutes to squeeze him in. I dropped hints like, “Nobody here measures up to you, my love,” and, “That man wants me and that one and that one, but my nipples are pointing at Y-O-U,” and, “Will you take me home and fuck me already?” 

“Gracie,” he drawled. “Grace, what’s the rush? It’s a beautiful day. Vitamin D, right?” 

The only “D” that I wanted wasn’t technically a vitamin. I took his hand and held on tight, lest he look away and I run off. I tried to Kegel my way to a petite orgasm (you know, to take the pressure off) but that only made things worse—or better. I couldn’t think straight. 

How could he not have an erection? I wondered.  He had to have been thinking about what he had planned for me. I glanced and licked my lips. It twitched. He was thinking about me. 

“Baby?” I asked in my sexiest, huskiest voice. I was one step away from calling him “Daddy.” I refused to beg. 

“Baby, please?” I begged. 

The bastard looked straight ahead and unfurled a cruel smile. “Please what?” 

“Da…bay…my love, take me home.” 

“But it’s so nice out.” 

“Take me home.” 

“I don’t know…” 

“Take me here.” 

“Gracie. Grace. Do you know what I love about you?” 

Everything! What’s not to love? “No, Baby, what?” 

“I love how you take care of me—my needs. You’re a beautiful woman, inside and out. You’re brilliant. You have limitless imagination…” 

Yeah, yeah, get on with it! 

“And a bottomless pussy. Still, do you want to know what I’ve never, ever had?” 

“Baby, all you need to do is ask.” 

“A quickie.” 

Fuck. Fuck, no. Fuck, yeah. Fuck me. Oh, Fuck. 

“Really?” 

“Can you imagine?” 

Oh, I was imagining it alright. My mouth went dry. My cunt demanded every drop of water that my poor, trembling body could spare. How? my logical side considered before my feral side bitch-slapped her. 

“Get your things. Don’t bother dressing,” he said. I didn’t realize that he had led me to the lockers. 

I scooped up my things and ignored the tiny stones under my feet as I ran through the parking lot. “I won’t make it home,” I shouted over my shoulder. 

“I don’t intend to wait.” 

He made me wait, though. The car was locked, and I didn’t have the keys. His dick rose and rose with every unhurried step. Nudists arriving and leaving couldn’t help but gawk. He unlocked the door by remote before he got there, and I threw myself onto the back seat with my feet propped against the headrests. 

“Baaay-bee,” I called out, fighting to keep my fingers dry. Gerald’s almost too-long schlong, dripping with pre-cum, poked through the car door before his head did. My heart was racing, and I was near tears. “I’m ready,” I mouthed, impatient to be mounted. 

Maybe we should have closed the car door. 

“Ow! Oh! FUCK!” My usually gentle giant was merciless and shoved his entire monster inside me with a single glorious, awful push. Then he fucked me like the slut I like to be. It hurt; God knows it hurt a lot but less and less with every thrust. My loud cries of pain turned into encouraging louder cries of pleasure. There was nothing particularly creative about the smut coming out of my mouth. A cunt-boggling primal scream accompanied my first orgasm. 

We should have closed the car door. 

My brain was in a fog as I felt my second climax rise like the blazing morning sun as it climbed and claimed the horizon. Gerald roared as he pumped himself to exhaustion. So! Much! Cum! 

My husband backed out of the car and silently stood outside. 

“Let’s get home,” I said as I emerged behind him. “Hello.” Gerald wrapped his arm around my waist to pull us hip to hip. “Everyone.” 

We had attracted an attractive naked audience and were surrounded by at least a dozen accusative boners. For the very first time, I wasn’t interested. 

“Graaace…” 

I figured that we were thinking the same thing—we had to escape. “Yeah, Baby.” My plan was to suck him off all the way home so that he’d be ready for round two. 

“Gracie. Grace. Do you see that woman, the brunette, at ten o’clock?” 

What? 

“Have you ever seen such big nipples on top of such big tits in your life?”