It’s kind of amazing the kinds of things you can convince yourself to do in a moment of weakness. I’ve always considered myself to be a highly moral person. Growing up, I was kind of a goody-two-shoes. I never drank before I was 21, I never did drugs, I didn’t have sex before I got married, I always went to church; you know, that sort of thing. But I finally let my hair down, and in kind of a big way.

First, a little about myself. I’m 34 years old, have been married for 14 of those years to a man who takes care of me, and I have 4 beautiful little children to show for it. They are all pretty young; the oldest is 9 and the youngest just turned 2. I live in the suburbs of Boise, Idaho and have for most of my married life. I grew up in Denver, Colorado.

I know you’re wondering about my physical attributes. Well, I keep myself in good shape, and I was blessed with good genes. I have big boobs, a pair of 34 D’s that border on DD. My waist is pretty small and my hips complete the hourglass figure. I have to work at it a little more now than I did growing up, but I’m still pretty proud of my body. I turn heads, and my husband has nothing to complain about. After 4 kids, that’s pretty impressive, no matter who you are. Oh, and I stand about 5’5”, I have blue eyes and straight blonde hair that my husband wishes I would let grow longer, but I enjoy having it a little shorter than shoulder length. By the way, my name is Denise.

Anyway, I am kind of a girly girl. I don’t like to get my hands dirty, and anything that gets broken either needs to be fixed by my husband, or I call a specialist. My husband and I decided that after having children, I would stay at home with them until they are all in school and then I will return to work. So, much of my days are spent cleaning up after children or running them around from place to place! Sometimes I feel like a chauffeur and a vacuum cleaner all rolled up into one!

Still, I am happy with my life in general. I could complain, but who couldn’t? We have a nice house and nice vehicles, and a little money socked away for vacations and the future. The sex has always been good, but I was a virgin when I got married, so I have very limited experience. I always wondered if there was more to it than my husband just jumping in and plowing away until he is finished and then rolling over to go to sleep.

This is where my story really begins. It was the middle of winter, which gets very cold in Idaho, and I had just dropped off my oldest two children at school. My third is in a preschool, but that wouldn’t start for a few hours, so I was planning to take the younger two to a nearby mall to play in the inside playground area there.

After letting them run around and have their fun while I watched for a while, it was time to go home and do some chores around the house. I loaded up the kids in the SUV and then went to start it, but it made a strange noise and wouldn’t start. It was at precisely that moment that I discovered that I hadn’t charged my cell phone the night before and it was completely dead.

So, here I was at the mall, pretty much stranded. And it is kind of amazing how many people just ignore you when you are asking for help! Finally, a gentleman came over and told me that it sounded like my battery was dead, but that I also might need some repairs done on the starter. He tried to be discrete, but I could tell he was staring at my breasts every opportunity he got. At first I was a little offended, but then I decided that what could it hurt? He got his little eye full, and I got the help I needed. This was the start of my slippery slope.

Anyway, his name was Stan and he offered to give me a jump and then follow me to a repair shop just to make sure I was okay. I assured him that it wasn’t necessary for him to follow me, but he insisted and I was grateful to be taken care of. It was a good thing, too, because when I got to the repair shop, they told me that it would be at least two hours before they even got to it, and then it could be another few hours before it was fixed, depending on the problem. It would have been worse if Stan hadn’t been there, as he talked them down from keeping my van overnight. I thought that was very chivalrous, and I’ve always been a sucker for chivalry.

Seeing my predicament – I had to take my daughter to preschool and didn’t want to be stuck in the shop for several hours anyway – Stan offered to give us a ride to where we needed to go. I felt a little uncomfortable, but I needed a ride and couldn’t easily get a hold of my husband, so I accepted. Again, he kept ogling my chest, but every time I looked at him, he met me in the eyes, so I began feeling a little more okay with it. At least he was trying not to be obvious.

After dropping my daughter off at preschool, Stan took me and my youngest home. Still feeling like he was kind of my hero, I felt bad just telling him to leave when we arrived, so I found myself offering him a cup of coffee. He eagerly agreed and we went into my house.

It was nap time, thankfully, so I put my youngest to bed and then went about making a pot of coffee. Meanwhile, Stan and I talked and I started feeling much more comfortable around him. He was a very nice guy and it turned out that he worked out of his home a lot, which gave him a little flexibility. He had just turned 30 and had recently gotten divorced. He had two children, but his ex-wife had custody during the weekdays.

While we talked, he kept staring at my chest, and he started to become a little bolder, even looking when he knew I was looking at him. At times it was a little unnerving, but I started feeling a little excited to be so obviously admired. I was just wearing a simple t-shirt, so it wasn’t like I was exposing myself to him.

When he finished his coffee, I asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you? I really appreciate all the help you gave me this morning.”

“It really was no problem,” Stan replied. “I’m just glad that I was there to help.”

“Well, thank you,” I stated. “It was very much appreciated. If there’s any way I can repay you, please let me know.”

“Well,” he hesitated.

“What?” I asked naively. “What is it?”

“I can’t help but admire your amazing cleavage,” he said quickly and then pushed on before I could interrupt. “If you really want to repay me, you can take off your shirt!”

I’m not sure which one of us blushed more, but after the words came out, we were both pretty red. Me because I couldn’t believe his request, and him because he couldn’t believe he’d actually said it! After a moment’s hesitation when we both weren’t sure what to do, we just busted out laughing.

“But Stan,” I said with a little flirting in my voice, “I don’t even know you!”

“True,” he agreed with a twinkle in his eyes, “But if it wasn’t for me, Denise, you might still be at the mall! Or, even worse, at the shop!”

“That’s true,” I said, a little hesitant. “But maybe someone else would have helped me, and they wouldn’t have stared at my chest the entire time!”

“Guilty as charged,” he laughed. “But they look pretty amazing, and I’d really love to see more of them!”

“But Stan,” I repeated, “I’m married. Nobody but my husband has ever seen me with my shirt off!”

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, “I’ll take my shirt off first, that way you won’t feel so self-conscious!”

I just laughed. I couldn’t believe he was saying these things to me. And even worse, I couldn’t believe that I, a happily married woman, was considering his offer. Never before had I done anything so crazy; I’d never let my hair down.

Stan decided to take matters into his own hands and before I could protest any further, he took off his shirt. Now, I had seen the hard bodies at the swimming pool during the summer, but never up close. Stan looked great, and although I had thought he was nice enough and attractive before, his chest captivated my attention as much as mine had apparently captivated his.

Almost in a trance, I un-tucked my t-shirt from my jeans. I pulled my arms through my sleeves and then stopped just short of pulling it all over my head.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” I cautioned.

“Who am I going to tell?” he asked, a humorous mixture of disbelief and eagerness in his voice.

“Okay,” I said as I pulled my shirt over my head and exposed my bra covered breasts to only the second man in my life. I was wearing a conservative bra, though, and it covered them completely, so it really wasn’t much different than wearing a bikini. Of course, I never wore a bikini, so I still felt rather self-conscious.

“Wow!” was his only expression, but he couldn’t take his eyes away from my chest.

“Okay,” I said, covering up slightly with my shirt, but still not putting it back on. “Now you are really making me feel embarrassed.”

“I’m so sorry,” he responded, and with effort, he looked me in the eyes again. I hadn’t noticed before, but they were really a beautiful shade of ice blue. My husband’s were kind of a plain brown. These were eyes I could really get lost in. He continued, “You have such an amazing rack, I couldn’t help but stare.”

“Well, now you’ve seen them,” I said. “So, thank you for all your help.”

“Ah, so you’re not going to let me see them without your bra?” he whined.

“Absolutely not,” I said, a little harsher than I’d intended. I softened my tone, “You’ve already seen more than anyone else in my life.”

“Well, I definitely feel very fortunate for that,” he said sincerely. “Can I see again without your hands in the way?”

Slowly, I dropped my hands and let him get another eyeful. I must admit, it was pretty erotic just sitting there letting a man I barely knew ogle me. And I enjoyed looking at his chest, too, and imagining what it would feel like pressed up against me. I got a little caught up in the daydream, and when I looked back up, he was again staring into my eyes with a little smirk on his face.

“I take it you like what you see, too!” he said.

“Well, turnabout is fair play!” I smirked. In truth, though, I was a little more embarrassed about being caught doing exactly as he had done previously.

“Fair enough,” he said. He picked up his coffee mug and, seeing that it was empty, stood up and went to refill it. His back was pretty well muscled and I enjoyed watching it, too. And he had a tribal tattoo on his left bicep, another thing that I had never admitted to even myself, but it was a turn on.

“Good coffee,” he said as he returned to his seat. “And even better scenery!”

“Thanks,” I smiled and blushed again. I looked down and noticed that my nipples were trying to drill their way through my bra, and although they weren’t exactly visible, it was very clear that they were distended.

“So,” Stan said, again sounding like he was breaking the ice, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean!” I said forcefully. “I’m a married woman, Stan. You got your eyeful, and that’s going to be it!” But I was more than a little turned on that he seemed so interested in me.

He just looked amused as he took another sip from his mug.

“I was meaning that your van will probably not be finished for a while, and I wondered if you needed a ride anywhere else!” he chuckled.

“Oh,” was all I could mumble. I did need to figure out what to do about picking up my four year old, though. My husband would have a difficult time getting away from work, though, and my in-laws were an hour away, so that wasn’t a great option, either. Of course, I had friends in church and neighbors, but that was quite situational, and I wasn’t sure if any of them would be available at such short notice.

“Well, I could use a ride to pick up my daughter from preschool,” I admitted, “And my older two will need to be picked up from school later this afternoon.”

“You’re in luck,” Stan said with a big grin, “I’m available the rest of the day!”

“I don’t want to be trouble,” I said, still unsure of his motive.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” he replied. “I’m glad to help. But, hey, I would enjoy seeing more of you for my trouble!”

“You are a dog!” I laughed and threw my shirt at him. It was the only thing at hand, and immediately I regretted discarding my cover.

“Well, I figured I’d push my luck a little!” he said a little sheepishly. “I mean, it worked for me so far!”

I couldn’t argue with him there. I mean, he had already seen more of me than any other man except my husband. Still, I weighed my options. I could make a few phone calls and see if anyone else could help, or I could try to rent a car, or I could give this handsome man a little peepshow and have everything taken care of.

“Okay,” I said, smiling a little. “What do you want to see?”

“Now we’re talking,” Stan said, rubbing his hands together like a greedy moneylender. “I’ll tell you what. I’m going to let you decide. If I’m going to help you pick up your kids, what is it worth to you?”

I figured I knew what he wanted. He wanted to see my naked boobs, and he figured that I would show him those for a ride. But I had a different strategy in mind.

“That sounds like a plan,” I said, “But I want you to close your eyes, and no peeking!”

“Interesting,” he said as he covered his face with his hands.

Quietly, I slipped off my shoes and then my pants. I always wore very conservative panties. This particular pair was solid cotton briefs. They were white but with a little pink and green pattern. I was going to tell him to open his eyes, but then I started feeling a little strange standing there almost naked before him. I almost chickened out right then, and in retrospect, I probably should have just run upstairs and figured something else out. But I didn’t. Instead, I just sat back down at the table.

“Alright, open your eyes.”

As he did, he got this quirky little smile on his face as he searched my visible body for signs of what I’d done. Not noticing anything immediate, since my lower body was beneath our wood table, his face almost dropped, but then lit up like a light bulb.

Quicker than a cheetah on a gazelle, he dropped below the table. The grin on my face turned into a huge smile as I heard his exclamation of pleasure. Then I felt his hand brush across my knee and to my inner thigh and I flew out of my chair, though not as quickly as I thought I should have. His hand was headed straight toward my crotch! And I only stood up when he was less than a hands length away.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” I asked him in my most authoritative voice, though it lost some of its conviction when it cracked mid-sentence.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” he explained. “You have the smoothest, creamiest thighs, and I wanted to feel them.”

“Well, didn’t your mother ever tell you to ask before just doing something?” I said, still a little flustered. I could still feel his touch on the inside of my thigh.

“Would you have let me touch you if I had asked?” he asked.

“Probably not,” I said.

“Well, now you have your answer!” he replied with a touch of bravado. “It’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission!”

“That was still pretty inappropriate,” I said as he stood in front of me. “I am a married woman.”

“And yet, here you are standing in front of me in just a bra and panties,” Stan pointed out.

“Yes, very true,” I admitted, “But now that you have gotten your eyeful, I will get dressed.”

“No, please,” he said, and I thought I detected a hint of desperation in his voice. “Please, don’t get dressed just yet.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“I’m really enjoying the view,” he answered.

“Alright,” I conceded, though even now I don’t know why I kept down this path. I had convinced myself that it was an innocent look and I was getting more out of the deal than Stan was. It was the first time I had ever used my body to get what I wanted, and this felt like real power. After we sat back down at the table, Stan continued the conversation.

“So, what do I have to do to get you out of that bra?” he asked, almost nonchalantly.

I spluttered through my coffee, “I don’t know if there is anything you can do to get that view!”

“Oh, come on,” Stan pleaded, “There must be something! There is always a price!”

Now this was interesting. Well, like I said before, my sex life was decent, but relatively unfulfilling, and a housewife has got to have her fantasies, right? This was going to fuel mine for years to come, and I was going to make sure it was a good memory.

“Okay, buster,” I said with as much bravado as I could muster. “If you want to see these puppies, you have to first take off all your clothes!”

I wasn’t sure whether I wanted him to back down, or whether I wanted him to be brave enough to make the first move. I shouldn’t have been surprised when he stood right up and took off his pants. And he didn’t have anything on underneath.

His penis was much bigger than my husbands, and at first it kind of scared me. It was like a one-eyed monster that just jumped out of his now unzipped pants and plopped itself down on my kitchen table. It was semi-hard, but was longer than my husband’s at full mast. After he stepped out of his jeans, I knew the ball was now in my court. Would I actually go through with it and let this man who was not my husband, a stranger really, see what heretofore only my husband had seen?

“Now it’s your turn,” Stan challenged with a smile. “I’ve been dreaming of this moment since I first met you this morning!”

I turned around. “Would you mind unsnapping it for me?” I asked a little demurely.

“Of course,” he said, the perfect gentleman.

My bra came unsnapped, but I still held it over my chest, a last vestige of modesty in this game of dares. What did it matter, I asked myself. He had already seen me in my underwear, and it wasn’t like we were doing anything wrong. He had touched me briefly, but I put an end to that real quick. And now my fantasies were going to be active for weeks and months to come. Maybe even years.

I turned around, closed my eyes, and let my bra drop to the ground. When I finally got up the nerve to open my eyes, I watched Stan just standing there staring at my oversized tits. I felt the flush start at my chest and grow all the way up into my face. My nipples were hard and it was all I could do not to immediately go running into the bathroom or somewhere.

“Beautiful,” Stan said. “Absolutely gorgeous. They’re everything I thought they would be and more!”

“Well, thanks,” I said, still feeling a little unworthy of his praise. Not that I didn’t know I looked good, but because it seemed strange coming from someone other than my husband. Of course, my husband hadn’t complimented my body for a while, so it kind of felt good to be admired.

“Can I touch them?” he asked, still not taking his eyes from my breasts.

“No.”

“Please?” he continued. To enhance the effect, he dropped to his knees and shuffled forward until he was almost up against me. “Please, please, please?”

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” I said, a little pragmatically.

“Okay, let’s make a new deal, then!” he said.

I’m sure he thought I’d say a touch for a touch, and in fact, I’m sure that’s what he was hoping for. But I really had no intention of letting him touch me. I mean, looking at me naked, or mostly naked, was one thing, but touching…that was far more intimate and would be wrong. Still, seeing him prostrate in front of me begging was kind of erotic. Anyone who says that power isn’t a turn on has never had it!

“Fine,” I said. “Let me think about it.”

So, we sat back down at the table and drank our coffee and chatted. It was a strange, surreal feeling sitting at my kitchen table mostly naked across from a man I had never met before that morning that was completely naked. And we were just making small talk about the weather and the economy and whatever else struck our fancy. Finally, I figured out what I could say to get his mind off of touching me.

“Here’s the deal,” I said. “I need some things done around the house, and my husband doesn’t always have time or energy to do them.”

“Okay,” he said, hesitant. “What do you need done?”

So, I listed several things for him to do, including moving some boxes up to our attic, sweeping out my garage, and hanging up some pictures in my hallway. I thought about also requiring him to shovel my driveway and sidewalk and take the trash out to the curb, but figured I would get into a lot of trouble if any of my neighbors saw a naked man outside my house. Still, some of the things I had on my list were pretty strenuous. And I told him he couldn’t get dressed to do them.

“I accept your terms,” he said, “But I want to negotiate my reward.”

“What did you have in mind?” I laughed.

“When I am done, I want to be able to touch you, like you promised,” he said. “And I also want to be able to kiss you for at least a minute.”

Now this was getting serious. Was he actually considering doing all these things? On the one hand, I was a married lady, I had never cheated on my husband, and wanted to remain that way. However, it would be nice to get a few of those projects done around the house, since my husband always seemed too busy. And it was only a kiss, right? And he could cop a feel. Heck, teenaged girls let their boyfriends do that all the time!

“Okay,” I responded after considering his offer. “You can fondle me and kiss me for exactly one minute.” What harm could it do?

“Oh, and I want you completely naked,” he said, almost as an aside.

“We’ll see,” I considered with a giggle. It did turn me on a lot to be seen by Stan, so what was the difference if he saw my bush, too. But I had a caveat of my own. “By the way, you only have an hour to get all that done before we have to go pick up my daughter!”

I’ll be darned if he took longer than 30 minutes to do everything on that list. Being completely naked didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest, and I enjoyed the sight of a naked man wandering all over my house doing everything from mundane chores to the projects I had been putting off for weeks.

“All finished,” he exclaimed after moving the last of the boxes upstairs. “Now it’s my turn!”

“A promise is a promise,” I reasoned. I had been dreading it, but also looking forward to it. But as long as nobody ever found out, nobody would get hurt. This was just between me and Stan. “Here you go.”

I spread my arms out and twirled around while he walked toward me. The first thing he did was drop to his knees and he tugged at the waistband of my panties. At first, I thought about trying to stop him, but then my hormones won out and I let him pull them down and stepped out of them.

He ran his hands up my legs and to my butt. Giving a playful squeeze, he then continued to let them wander up my body to my breasts. His sensual rubbing was really turning me on.

“Lay down,” he commanded.

“Right here?” I asked. “On the floor?” We were in the hallway between the master bedroom and the other bedrooms.

“Yes, lay down,” he repeated.

As I complied, he continued his ministrations up and down my body. I was really getting excited, but knew I had to hold back. It wouldn’t be right for me to give myself to this stranger. In an effort to control myself and the tempo of this little game, I laid down the stipulation.

“Okay, you’re on the clock now, mister,” I said a little breathlessly. “You’d better start kissing, because I gave you a freebie for a few seconds. You have one minute.” With that, I looked at my watch, which I hadn’t taken off. It said 1:28.

I expected him to stretch his body across mine and enjoy the contact of our bodies as he touched his lips to mine, but that isn’t what happened. Instead, he positioned himself at my feet and spread my legs apart.

“What are you doing?” I asked incredulously.

“You said I could kiss you for one minute,” he said with a grin that could put the Cheshire Cat to shame, “But you never stipulated where I had to kiss you!”

With that, he buried his face in my hairy crotch. My husband had never kissed me there, and I couldn’t believe the sensations this was causing in my body as he pulled apart my labia and began licking my clitoris. I tried to think of anything else, but my body betrayed me and I let out a moan of pleasure. First, I gripped the carpet below me with my hands, and then, as I started to feel my orgasm coming forth, I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into me.

His tongue worked wonders. It would swirl around my clit and then lick its way down to my opening. He thrust it in and out, just a little bit and then resumed his work on my clit. It was driving me crazy. Stan definitely knew what he was doing because he brought me right to the edge and then let me back off a little bit. And even though I tried to pull his head closer and closer, still he managed to dance around my impending climax and wouldn’t let me finish. It was frustrating, but intensely erotic at the same time. And never before had I experienced something like this.

Finally, after bringing me right to the brink again, he began kissing his way up my body. Across my stomach and to my breasts. He swirled his tongue around my areolas and then finally to my nipples. First my right breast and then my left. I was in heaven. He continued his kissing of my body, going to my neck, which has always been sensitive, and as he kissed my chin and then my mouth.

I then felt something that I had only ever felt with one person before. When Stan stuck his tongue into my open mouth, I felt his cock slip just a tiny bit into my wide open pussy. In my enjoyment, I had left my legs spread wide open, and Stan was kissing me while gently thrusting his hips forward.

I had been right on the verge of orgasm before, and I had been enjoying his sexual ministrations. Feeling a penis inside me that didn’t belong to my husband sent me over the edge. And I don’t mean that I just came tumbling down like Jack and Jill. No, I soared over the precipice and flew like I never had before. There in my hallway, as this stranger deflowered me, I heard myself moan like a $10 hooker.

In the past, with my husband, I had only ever experienced three orgasms; or at least I thought that was what they were. It certainly felt good before this time with Stan. But now, they were nothing by comparison. Fleeting little things that were there and then gone. I had no idea sex could feel this good.

My orgasm continued and built as Stan slowly inched his way inside me. An inch, and then another. He would pull out ever so slightly to let me get used to his length and girth and then he’d push another couple inches into my hungry pussy. All the while I was moaning and pulling on him, my hands at his butt, begging him to give me everything he had.

Finally, I felt his balls touching against my butt, and I knew he was all the way inside me. I had never felt so full in my entire life. His penis stretched me out and touched places deep inside me that had never known a man. My head was thrown back as my body shuddered with the naughty thought of being so intimately taken by someone I had only met hours before. Now I was giving him something that only my husband of 14 years had taken.

Then it really started to feel good. As Stan pulled out nearly to his entire length and then pushed deep back into me, I thought I was going to pass out. As the fleshy tunnels of my vagina contracted and then were split apart again, I felt a churning sensation deep inside me. Faster and faster he pumped away, and more and more I couldn’t keep inside me what was rapidly building and moving beyond my control.

I let out a loud wail. “STAN!” I cried. “Yes…harder…harder…OOOOOOH!”

I screamed. Pleasure filled every nook and crevice of my soul and I thought I had died and gone to heaven. Fluid gushed out of my pussy and I thought I had peed myself in the middle of sex. Right there in the middle of my hallway, I had cum harder than I ever thought possible.

Still, he kept going, and I just lay there, spent. As his orgasm built, I could feel his penis getting harder, growing stiffer. I didn’t care, I had had my tubes tied, but feeling his hot jet of sperm shoot deep into me during his ejaculation made me feel so naughty. If I hadn’t been so tired, I’m sure I would have cum again.

Finally he stopped thrusting and looked deep into my eyes. There were his beautiful blues again. “That was amazing!” he exclaimed.

“That’s never happened to me before,” I sighed. “I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “You never told me you were a squirter!”

As we talked, I found out that I hadn’t peed myself, but had actually cum so much that I ejaculated just like a man! I didn’t even know that was possible, but here I was, living proof that it occurred.

After we were finished, I looked at my watch again and saw that it was 1:49. 20 minutes! My husband had never gone past 5. Well, Stan helped me the rest of the day. We picked up my children from school and he even helped me negotiate a lower rate to get my van fixed. Of course, I felt like I needed to repay him for that kindness, too! We now get together on a regular basis, at least twice a week, to relieve stress and help each other out. He usually does a few things around the house, naked of course, and then I let him see me naked. After all, what can it hurt? He’s already seen me!