Archive-name: Affairs/specdeli.txt Archive-author: Archive-title: Special Delivery Veronique lay under her husband Roger, riding his swollen cock for all it was worth. He was prodigiously endowed, a solid 10 inches, with heavy, firm balls. He plowed away at her with rigid detachment; trying so hard to make it last long enough for her to cum. Almost without warning he came; grunting and sputtering as his hot sticky cum splashed her insides and ran down the crack of her ass. She screamed, "Yes, oh, Roger, fill me with your hot cum!" They lay together, hearts pounding until he rolled off her and drifted off to sleep. Safe from discovery, her tears rolled off her face as she sobbed silently. === "Why, yes, we'd be happy to deliver that Mr. Fontaine. Today? Um, well, I'll have to see who we have available for drivers." "Tom, there's no one left to make a delivery today. Ronny's gone to Hampstead and Billy's leaving early," I offered. "This is Fontaine," Tom explained, cupping the receiver; "he's placing a good order." "See if he can wait until tomorrow, and I'll drop it off after we close." "Must be nice to be loaded," I thought, placing a case of Cheval Blanc beside the mixed case of Domaine de la Romanie-Conti and Domaine Meo-Camuzet. $1900 worth of wine in two cases. It was worth going the extra mile for customers like these. The 25 minute drive was over in a flash; I'd made it before and took a few shortcuts to avoid the construction induced delays on the highway. I enjoyed the smell of freshly mown hay as I traveled down the country road before turning into the driveway of this most impressive home. Roger Fontaine was a former NFL cornerback, a two time pro-bowler who'd played for the Steelers in 3 superbowls before an unfortunate injury to his anterior cruciate ligament ended his career prematurely. I parked next to a black Ferrari GTO in the spacious driveway. What a machine, I thought, as I inspected an automobile that cost more than my condo. Athletes' salaries are so insane, I mused. I went up to the front door and rang the bell. Ferdinand, the male servant, answered the door with the kind of arrogance that only servants to the filfthy rich can muster. "Is Mr. Fontaine in?" "No, sir, he'll be out for the day. May I help you?" "I have a delivery for Mr. Fontaine's cellar; two cases of wine." "Oh, yes, the delivery entrance is around back. I'll meet you there." And he turned to leave. I suppose he wasn't discourteous, but the cold detachment, the "I can scarcely be bothered with you" attitude was really quite grating. I brought the car around to the rear entrance, and popped the trunk. Grabbing the Cheval Blanc, I moved towards the door when a movement in the pool area caught my eye. A gorgeous woman was getting out of the pool. Must be the wife, I figured. Ferdinand appeared presently and let me in. I took the case down the stairs and put in on a large wooden table in the cellar. I went back and got the other one, and placed it beside the first. I looked about the cellar for just a minute. Impressive. Verticals of a number of Bordeaux, some prime vintages of burgundy, major california varietals. Better than even my personal cellar, in sheer volume of impressive wines. If nothing else, Fontaine had exquisite taste. As I got back to the top of the stairs, Mrs. Fontaine was there. She'd put on a cotton wrap, but it really did little to hide her beauty. I tried not to appear awestruck. "How much do I owe you?" she inquired. "Nineteen-hundred and seventy-five dollars," I answered, almost apologetically. She didn't even bat an eye. Ferdinand supplied the checkbook. "Thank you, Ferdinand. I won't be needing you anymore today." "Very well, Madam. Good day." And he left. I couldn't help but stare at Mrs. Fontaine. Her delicate and feminine features were most alluring. Long chestnut brown locks were pulled back in a pony-tail. I was close enough to her to smell some very expensive perfume. Fortunately it was as light and delicate as her beauty and not overpowering or cloyingly sweet. I surreptitiously inhaled deeply, closing my eyes. Exquisite. I opened my eyes to see her looking at me with considerable amusement. I blushed deeply and wanted nothing more than to get the check and disappear. "You like that?" "Um, yes, it is a most delightful scent." "It's called Jungle Gardenia." She handed me the check. "Thank you very much," I blurted and turned to leave, but her hand touched my arm and I couldn't bring myself to move. "It's really quite warm out, could I offer you something to drink?" Meanwhile, her feminine touch on my arm is setting off deep primordial urges in my loins. "Um, sure," I breathed nervously. I thought to myself how utterly unsmooth I was being. "What would you like? We have all sorts of wine, we have beer, a full bar-- Ferdy's gone for the day so you'll have to fend for yourself. There's wine in here," she drawled, indicating a half-size refrigerator. I chose an alsatian riesling. "'Screw?" I asked. "Um, I mean, corkscrew." There I go blushing again. "Sure, to both questions." She had the corkscrew in her hands. When I went to reach for it, she pulled it away. She did this twice. Then I put my hand out, palm up, and she put the corkscrew into it. I opened the bottle without further ceremony, and filled the two Riedel crystal glasses she had produced. I savored the bouquet of the wine, inhaling deeply. I nodded and took a sip. Crisp and lively and fully dry in the traditional alsatian style. Most refreshing. She put her glass down and before I knew it her arms were around my neck. I was very nervous. Christ, if her husband showed up I'd be leaving in a plastic sack. "Relax," she whispered reassuringly, "he won't be back today. He's off to San Jose on business." I put my glass down, put my arms around her waist and asked her what on earth she wanted with me. Her face clouded and she pouted for a second. "My sex life is tremendously unsatisfying. I haven't had a real orgasm that I didn't give myself in months, maybe years. My husband is hung like a horse but he thinks that's all there is to sex. Foreplay is minimal when there's any at all, and he never, you know, eats me. So I never cum. I have to fake it to save his ego." "Wow, that was quite a mouthful. What makes you so sure I'll be any better?" She never really answered. "Just shut up and kiss me you fool." Our lips met and it was electrifying. Our bodies melted together and I ran my hands over her back as we embraced. Her hungry tongue pushed its way into my mouth and our tongues swirled together in a timeless oral pas de deux. Our collective breathing deepened. Finally I broke the kiss. My initial reservations were rapidly being consumed by the insatiable fire of lust. She grabbed her glass and took a sip. "Brilliant choice; I love it." She turned and walked away, to my extreme confusion. She turned back, "Well come on!" I didn't need to be told twice! I grabbed the bottle and my glass and followed her. I walked directly behind her, watching her graceful curves and movements. She was rather feline, I decided, as I watched her move. No doubt about it, this was one hot woman. We went up the stairs to her bedroom. I began to relax and enjoy myself. Here was a beautiful woman about to exchange mutual carnal knowledge with me. Life could be worse! She sat on the edge of the bad. "Um, Mrs..." "Veronique," she interrupted. "Oh, Veronique" I said, employing my well developed french accent and noticing how she crinkled her nose with enjoyment as she smiled when I said it, "you have beautiful hair." I stroked it, decided the ponytail was a problem, and undid the bow which held it up. Her chestnut locks cascaded over her shoulders. It was much nicer to touch this way. I brought her head to my chest as I ran my hands through her silky hair. She purred contentedly. I put my glass on the nightstand, touched her face and brought our lips together. More electricity. Our mutual lust was spreading, growing in strength and urgency. We devoured each other's mouths. Hot, sweet kisses here and there; tongues probing, tasting, loving. I opened my eyes and her face was lightly flushed. "My, but you're an excellent kisser!" she exclaimed. "Oh, I'm quite oral," I laughed. Her eyes danced with anticipation. Her hands flew to my shirt and deftly undid each button. She put her hand inside and felt my firm pecs, gliding her hands through the forest of chest hair and gently tweaking each nipple in turn and then together. It felt so good. I took another sip of my wine as she did this, then put the glass to her lips and tipped it carefully. "Mmmm, that really is good, isn't it?" she inquired. I nodded. I stood her up and removed her cover up. Her nipples poked through the fabric of her expensive french bikini. I pulled the top off, and her breasts stood proudly before me. Perfectly formed, creamy white and firm, they were like melons ripe for the taking. I caressed them softly, kneading them gently, urging further nipple arousal. She whimpered softly. "Your hands," she whispered. "Tender touches..." Her nipples were wildly erect now, virtually screaming for some attention. I leaned over and licked over a nipple with deliberate slowness. A tiny, feminine gasp escaped her lips. I did the same to the other one. I stood, and grabbed the bottle. I lay her on her back, and poured a few dribbles of riesling over her nipples and breasts. I quickly kissed up every drop. Her pulse quicked with every kiss and nibble. I dribbled more. Kisses and licks swabbed up the wine, and the occasional odd nip kept her off balance. "Oh my God, I can't believe how good that feels!" she squealed like a child. I was getting almost dizzy, between the rush of blood into my now aching penis and the alcohol in my bloodstream. I pulled off my pants to release some of the pressure, and dropped my underwear as well. I was now fully naked, with my pulsing pole standing at attention. I skillfully hooked my fingers under her bikini bottom, and slowly pulled it down to reveal a well trimmed bush. As she spread her legs, I could see her pink-brown lips were distended and glossy with arousal. I kissed the top of her mound, and she tried to bring her clit in contact with my tongue. "All in good time, Veronique," I teased. I wanted her frustration to continue, for now at least. I refilled my glass, finishing the bottle. I pulled the rest of the capsule off the top and held the top in one hand as I toyed with her pubies with the other. She was squirming now, so I leaned over and took a nipple into my mouth and sucked- hard. Her vocalizations became less intelligible, but the message was clear. She loved the way I was playing with her. After a few minutes, the top of the bottle was warm, and I maneuvered myself so my cock was at her tit level. "Rub my cock on your tits," I instructed. Soon I could feel her ripe breasts and hard nipples under my raging pecker. I spread her legs apart and began running my fingers along her lips, spreading the wetness around. She was getting quite charged from all of this. I began to play with her pussy with the slender wine bottle. Like many german wine bottles, those of Alsace are long and tapered. I would soon put these attributes to good use. I began rubbing her clit with the bottle, then I went back down along her slit. She looked up to see what I was doing, the sensations were so different from anything she'd experienced. I leaned over and licked her burning pussy with long up and down strokes. She shuddered in pre-orgasmic bliss. I worked two fingers into her and massaged her g-spot for a minute or two. Her excitement was reflected in her expanding pussy. I slowly and carefully put the bottle against her vagina and pushed steadily until it started to go in. A cry from the other end of the bed made me stop. "No! Don't stop!" I began a careful in and out motion, working the bottle in a little more each time. I got four or five inches in, and the bottle was getting pretty big around at that point. I didn't want to stretch her too much. I leaned over and after a few manipulations of the bottle and some neck craning moments, I was able to tongue her swollen clit. It took less than 10 seconds to push her over the edge. She came, screaming, writhing, hot snatch pulsing around the glass intruder. She was completely incoherent, thrashing and moaning. I stopped licking her so she could relax, and slowly slid the bottle out of her crack. She lay panting next to me, but hardly finished. She rolled over on top of me and began furiously sticking her tongue down my throat, tasting her own juices on my lips and tongue. She was like a woman possessed. Now she began biting and sucking my nipples, which got them very sensitive, as I played with her firm breasts. I was on the verge of blue balls at this point. I've had blue balls more often than Papa Smurf, but that wasn't going to happen this time. She went down on me and slurped my bone into her mouth. She was an accomplished fellatrix, that was immediately apparent. Up and down, tonguing my balls, pushing my legs apart and licking over my anus; I was quickly being sent into orbit She looked up at me, slyly, and took my balls into her mouth while maintaining eye contact. It was intensely erotic seeing her suck my nuts that way. With a plop they fell out of her mouth and she began slurping on the purple head. Then she did something I found extremely intense; she began talking dirty to me with her mouth full of cock. She told me how she loved sucking me off and how she looked forward to tasting my hot cum. She kept it up for several minutes before my eyes closed involuntarily and I braced myself for the eruption. I began squirting hotly into her mouth; it was such a powerful orgasm that the first spasm lasted about 3 seconds. I must have spurted alot because she started choking. Then the spasms came closer together as I proclaimed my enjoyment. She kept up with it as best she could until I was done. I was actually seeing stars, I was hyperventilating so much. She wiped a few strings of cum off her lips, and lay beside me. She began running her hands over my chest and licking my ear, and I never really got soft. She straddled me and her hot muff slid over my turgid rod with silky smoothness. No wonder her husband couldn't hold it very long. She was exquisite, she'd clench her muscles and milk my cock, then ride more. I rolled us over so I could be on top. I had her put her legs together so my cock slid directly over her clit, then began pumping rhythmically. Our sounds together were a symphony of love. Sweaty bodies sliding together, desperate breathing, moaning and crying gave way to shrieks of pleasure as we climbed the plateau. Her body became rigid then quivered like a bowstring as she shot over the cliff. Incomprehensible cries filled the air as I joined her in a paroxysm of ecstasy. We lay there together, enjoying the post-orgasmic aftershocks. Nothing like servicing your accounts, I say. --