A story for sex enthusiasts that showcases experience and breaks taboos.

The author has divided this story into episodes and provided it to erosstar in its entirety, so that readers can enjoy the journey from the exciting beginning to the sweet finale—just as the main hero and his lover, the sweet Linda, enjoyed the story's events.

I came back home to the Czech Republic from Canada after two years. The first year, I simply enjoyed myself: trips, concerts, theater, galleries, movies, but also cafes, bars, nightlife, and, of course, women. Women liked it when I talked about my abundant experiences. I can talk skillfully, I come across as a seasoned man, and I'm considered fairly attractive in terms of appearance as well. Tall, broad-shouldered, well-built, and with big hands. Apparently, I have a nice smile, and women sense and enjoy something sweet behind my rugged face that supposedly radiates from me.

In my second year back in the Czech Republic, I got an offer to work at a branch of a multinational company. My friend David B., who's a pretty big shot, set it up for me. I went to the office once or twice a week, and I never overexerted myself. My job was to appear serious and important, and my presence made everyone work harder instead of gossiping—or at least pretend to. Everyone greeted me respectfully, and I enjoyed the respect and authority that came solely from my acquaintance with David, whom absolutely everyone here admired.

This corporate life isn't really for me, but when I can make a bundle of money just by looking important, occasionally dazzling at meetings, and then writing a few reports, I do it gladly. You could say I'm a bastard with a hell of a lot of luck. Besides money, this job gave me one more thing: I met Linda.

Linda is 32, has worked for the company for four years, is married, and lives nearby. I vaguely remember her from the past—we were at the same parties a few times, but never really talked; she had her group, and I had mine. Still, just like back then, Linda is a pretty blonde with a beautiful ass. Now she comes across as a sweet young woman, someone it's easy to see was the center of attention all through high school and college and lived those years wildly and to the fullest. Linda is still sexy, but she's at peace with being married and settled down, so she doesn't radiate that wildness and untamable energy she once did.

I've always had a weakness for pretty blondes, and the ice between me and Linda broke at a company teambuilding event. After dinner at a restaurant, we played bowling, and most colleagues left for home. I had another glass of whiskey, drank it outside while smoking, and decided to pay and go elsewhere. I didn't know Linda would join me outside, but I wasn't surprised either.

That evening, she wore a cream-white sporty skirt, modern sneakers, a tank top, and over that a light denim jacket. Nothing special, but it really suited her.

We started talking. We agreed we'd known each other by sight for years. It was just the two of us outside, so I told her that when we weren't at work, she could use informal language with me. She was a bit taken aback that this didn't apply at the office, but it didn't discourage her. On the contrary, she started acting flirtatiously, as if she wanted to earn my favor. She cautiously tested how to go about it. All the while, she knew what she wanted to say—the main reason she had come outside to me.

I could tell right away she had something serious on her mind, but I enjoyed watching her muster up the courage to say it, how careful and hesitant she was. Casually, I chatted with her, but looking into her eyes, I was often only half-listening to her small talk, imagining having sex with her and what expressions she'd make while doing it. It was a pleasant idea, and Linda—especially her beautiful round butt—became increasingly attractive to me.

I finished my cigarette and my drink. I told Linda I was going to pay and head to another bar. She asked which one. When I told her, she said she lived nearby. I offered her to join me and said I'd pay for the taxi. She agreed immediately. Most colleagues inside were already drunk and boring her.

I told her to wait outside. I went in, paid for everyone's bill from our company, and returned to say she didn't have to pay. Soon we were sitting in an older black Mercedes and heading to the bar.

She got out with me and asked if I minded if she asked something personal. I suggested we talk about it in the bar, at a table for two. She readily agreed. She was a cute, sexy thirty-something, her body language swinging between determination and nervous uncertainty—emotions playing all over her, or perhaps I just had the gift of reading them.

We sat at the table and waited for our vodkas with soda. Linda exhaled deeply, looked me in the eyes, said she didn't quite know if what she was doing was right, and then began: She talked about her husband and their seven-year relationship. Her husband Marek was a 'candaulist', a voluntary cuckold, aroused by Linda being intimate with other men—or even more than one at a time. Linda and Marek's love life was fine for the first years without Marek disclosing this. Apparently, he was a satisfactory lover, but she complained their love-making lacked passion. Then, finally, Linda experienced Marek's longtime fantasy—one he'd dared to confess only after many years—when she had sex with a man they'd picked from an online dating site, in front of Marek.

Listening to their open relationship experiences was entertaining and, above all, arousing, because it was immediately clear why we were having this conversation. Linda continued: The first experience with another man, especially in front of her husband, wasn't great. The lover was fine, young, attractive, everything worked physically. But the nervousness was unbearable, and Linda couldn't relax. The whole thing ended awkwardly, and they never saw that man again.

She then had another experience, a much better one. She and Marek agreed that the next partner would be of her choosing and nothing would happen in front of Marek unless she felt ready. To soothe Marek's desire, she promised to send some photos from the first night. Marek was delighted and bought Linda new jewelry, clothes, shoes, and sexy lingerie to prepare her as best as possible for the adventure.

Linda went for it, she told me. She was looking for an alpha who wouldn't overthink or talk too much, just get the job done. Her friends gave her a tip. The guy was found in a club that night. After some dancing and a couple tequila shots, Linda offered herself, and within an hour she was moaning under him. These were her words, and I smiled at how bold she'd become. The club guy was apparently skilled, so Linda saved his contact. When I asked what photos she made for her husband, she said two: one of her giving the other man oral, and another of his semen on her belly. I almost asked to see the photos but stopped myself at the last second. I resolved to make my own. Better ones.

She met with this guy one more time. She went to his place, had sex with him, and really loved that, for the first time in her life, he used a vibrator on her; she then went back to Marek, and the whole thing was very satisfying—everyone was happy. At the third meeting, she told the new guy she'd like to do it with her husband watching. Quite incomprehensibly (at least in my view), he immediately dismissed her, saying he didn't want any part in such kinks. That ended the episode.

“And then you appeared,” Linda said, looking into my eyes with an uncertain smile. “And tonight, I'm home alone; Marek is away on business...”

I didn't hesitate a second. “I'm paying,” I loudly told the bartender from our table. I looked at Linda as if she were a slut I would enjoy to the fullest. As the bartender arrived, I lowered my voice and warned her, very firmly and intensely: “I'm going to fuck your brains out.”

I saw her hold her breath, pull away slightly, bite her lip, and cross her legs—in exactly that order.

I paid, and throughout the short walk from the bar to her apartment, I held her by the waist like my own slut. I liked that she was another man's woman, that she'd chosen me to give her something better than what she had at home. I truly liked this.

…

We started kissing as soon as we walked past her stairwell. She kissed passionately, wetly, sweetly—she really wanted it. I grabbed Linda’s beautiful ass and whispered in her ear that she belonged to me. She grabbed my hand, wanting to lead me upstairs, but I had a better idea. I yanked her keys out of her hand, flung her giggling over my shoulder, and carried her into their apartment like a trophy.

“The safeword is red. You know what that means?” I didn’t wait for an answer. “If you don’t like anything, say red and I’ll stop instantly.”

She nodded.

All right, let’s do this.

I grabbed her hair like a cheap whore and forced her to kneel. I stripped completely naked in front of her. I stood before her like a master—my big, broad-shouldered physique, sharp face, and a large, long cock hard as steel. She stared at it hypnotized. I asked if she liked it. She nodded. I barked at her harshly that I wanted to hear it!

Guiltily, she looked up at me and said she had never seen a prettier cock.

I smirked arrogantly, grabbed the sexy blonde by her hair, and led her behind me. On the way, I took one thing out of my jacket—something I’d need. Linda had to crawl behind me, humiliated, all the way to the living room. There, I commanded her to get on the couch and undress. She obeyed immediately.

“Kneel here,” I directed her.

She obeyed, and I sat comfortably on the couch. I spread my arms and legs, and lifted one foot. She started massaging my foot. I grabbed my phone (that thing from my jacket) and turned the camera on. “Try hard.”

Linda massaged my feet and sucked my toes. I filmed her, making sure to capture my dominant cock as well. “If you keep this up, I’ll let you suck my balls.” With that, I stopped filming and closed my eyes. I enjoyed Linda in her submissive position for another minute, then said it was enough.

I ordered her to get back on all fours and arch her back properly. She was astonishingly flexible and incredibly hot. I slid forward on the couch and told her she could suck my balls. She started immediately, moaning like a professional porn actress. My cock grew even larger and harder, right to the maximum. Chemistry worked brilliantly—Linda was turning me on!

I began to film again, catching her moans as she sucked my balls. Seeing the phone, she wanted to show off. She got closer and took my cock into her mouth.

I pulled it away with my hand, grabbed her by the throat, and sternly told her this was the last time she’d take my cock in her mouth without permission. I asked harshly if she understood. She apologized, promised it wouldn’t happen again, and nodded.

“Good girl,” I said mockingly, and turned the camera off.

I stood up. Pulled Linda upright by the arms. Threw her onto the couch. Lifted her beautiful ass into the air and lined her up with my cock. She was so wet and horny; she swallowed me immediately. Her sweet, wet heat embraced me, and I started thrusting away without a second thought.

I fucked her hard from behind for about twenty minutes. She came twice, both times with squirting orgasms, which I love! She screamed and moaned. To my questions, punctuated by our ragged breathing, she replied she was a dirty slut, she loved it, I fucked better than Marek, and she wanted more and more and more.

I grabbed my phone again. I filmed the last few dozen seconds of me burying my big cock deep in Marek’s woman as she moaned and flowed. I couldn’t hold out anymore—I pulled out so only the tip was left between her lips. The camera caught my cock pulsing as I grunted and powerfully came into Linda’s beautiful pussy.

I pulled out and briefly filmed Linda with my cum inside her. Stopped the video. Smacked her ass and said I’d see her again tomorrow.

She stood naked in the hallway, watching me get dressed. I saw how badly she wanted a hug and a kiss goodbye. Three times while I was dressing she thanked me, saying it was amazing. I gave her just a single, brief smile and left.

The slut will get her kiss some other time—at least she has something to think about. Before I fell asleep at home, I sent her all three videos via WhatsApp, with a message telling her to enjoy watching herself be a whore. Her reply pinged back in a second—no doubt just some silly emoji.

I didn't even bother checking and drifted off to sleep.

To be continued