The walls began closing in on me, and suddenly it was all black.  When I came-to my mother was crouched over me with a cold rag and a voice high with concern.  “Kirsten!  Baby!  What's wrong?  Don’t get up, you fainted, I am going to call an ambulance.”

I was still dizzy but the word 'ambulance' startled me.  There was no need to call an ambulance.  I wasn’t ill with anything but shame.

“It’s okay, don’t call anyone,” I croaked, instantly thinking about the time I had to go to the emergency room when I broke my arm.  It was a terrifying ordeal, and I had a phobia of hospitals ever since.

“I'm fine, just a little dizzy is all.  I didn’t have lunch,” I said shakily, getting to my feet.  My mother went downstairs to make me a sandwich and some tea.

When my mother was out of earshot Jonathan said, "Maybe we should take you to the hospital.  Just to make sure everything is o.k., you know?"  He was fully aware of my phobia, everyone who knew me was.  He was just toying with me now.  He put his arm around me and whispered into my ear, “Our little secret.”

His finger drew my chin up and his eyes met with mine--his deep blue eyes.  I couldn’t break my stare, and I didn’t want him to break his either.  He was everything I had every wanted, rich, powerful, and sexy.  My stomach tightened as his free hand traced up my body and stuffed a ball of lacy red fabric down my low cut blouse between my breasts.

I let out a gasp.  My body was suddenly terrified and electrified at the same time.  For years I had been dreaming about him, and now, it was happening—or at least, something was happening. Did I really want this?  Could I bare his attention?  His touch?  And what about my mother?  What did this all mean?

I choked and stepped back, recognizing her movement as she entered the room.

"Here honey, eat something," my mother urged.

“No, it's okay, I don't want anything right now.”

“Her pupils are dilated, Angie.  I'll take her to the hospital and run a scan on her just to be safe.”

My mother was easily persuaded.  Jonathan was a neuro surgeon, and my mother couldn’t handle anything in the realm of illness.  Jonathan retrieved his keys and led me out to his car.  I was afraid, my knees growing weaker with each step.

Jonathan opened the door of his Mercedes and helped me inside, his hands grasping at my waist.  I could feel the fire of his touch and I shivered as my nerves sparked to life.   He closed the door.  I loved being in his car.  The seats were made of black leather and perfectly supported my frame.  Every inch of the car was pristine, and the smell—it was his smell.

I took a deep breath and held it as the door across from me opened and he got in.  I stared silently straight ahead. He started the car and we took off.

"Where are we going?  Are we really going to the hospital?"  I started to panic.

"Of course not.”

My mind raced—“Where was he taking me then?”

“Where then? I asked as Jonathan shifted gears and pressed the accelerator to the floor.

“No more questions.  It’s a surprise.”   His fingers started to caress the bare skin of my thighs.  I gasped softly.  I could feel pinpricks trailing where his fingers traced my sensitive flesh.  I wanted him to keep going, but I was afraid even to move.  I had no guts, no experience being a seductress. I just sat there, stiffly, awkwardly, wishing.  A knot formed deep in my belly as I thought about what I was truly wishing for.  He was a married man, a happily married man, to my mother of all people, and here I was, wishing for him to want me.  I was selfish. I was bad.  I had to stop whatever this was.

“Don’t,” I begged him, pushing his hand aside as I pulled my body away from his magnetic touch.

“What is it?” His eyes bounced from mine to the road, and then back again.

“It’s wrong.  It is just wrong.  You are married to my mother.  I, I don’t know what got in to me but I am terribly ashamed of myself.”  I stared down and I felt my eyes watering.

He lightly pulled my knee towards him, spreading my legs.  “I guess now is as good a time as ever to let you know, Kirsten, that your mother and I are going through a divorce.  We met with the attorneys again this afternoon to discuss the settlement.  I love your mother, I truly do, but there is no reconciling our marriage.”

“What?!” I cried, forgetting his touch and the awkwardness of the moment.  I felt awful at hearing the news and wanted to somehow fix things.

“But if you love her, why can’t you make it work?  A woman wants to be loved.  Show her, tell her.”

“Oh, don't be so naïve,” he lamented.   “There is no reconciliation when you catch your wife with another man.  The trust, the passion, it’s all gone.  When I look at her, all I see is the ugly.”

I took a deep breath, trying to process what he had just divulged. We turned onto a winding dirt road that went up a hill.  It was evening now, and it was dark.  When we reached the summit I was taken by surprise.  The view was astounding.  The city glowed below us, twinkling like a million stars.  It was beautiful.

Turning to me he stared in silence.  I met his stare with my own blue eyes.  I was nervous, unsure if I should look away or to speak.  His body came forward, and his hands took my waist as he pulled me in towards him.  Our lips met, his tongue danced with mine, and an intense sensation came emanating from between my thighs.

Jonathan pulled away, leaving me panting.  “Do you have any idea how long I have wanted to do that?”

I shook my head.  “We shouldn’t be doing this.  We should go home,” I said, still unsure of myself, scared of the direction we were heading.

              Even as I spoke I hated myself.  Why was I denying the feelings I had growing within me?  Why was hesitating?  I was afraid of it all, afraid of him.  His lips pressed forward again and our tongues locked into an embrace.

“Is that what you want?  To go?” he asked, his face close to mine, his lips inviting.

I shook my head.  “No…”  I hesitated.  “I want this.”

“Then show me.”

We kissed for several minutes more, and I began to grow brave, letting my hands learn his body.  When I brushed my hand across his lap I instantly pulled back in shock.  I felt as if I had gone too far, I had touched him, and he was…hard.

He groaned desperately at my touch and his kisses became more passionate and intense.  He gripped my hair with one hand.  In one powerful motion he pulled my head back, exposing my sensitive neck.  His lips plunged onto me sending my entire body into shivers.  I felt my nipples grow hard, standing at attention to his touch.

I was lost, so overwhelmed by the sensation that I barely noticed him pulling at his belt.  My body tensed as he released me and I saw him there, his cock standing on end, HUGE.

“Why would anyone want to cheat when they had one of those?”  I said aloud, instantly feeling heat in my cheeks.

All my friends talked about big cocks, but I had never heard of one that was this big.  It was almost as thick as my tiny forearm, and it was easily as long or longer.  The immensity of it made me nervous.  He was staring at me and his hands were tracing my inner thighs again.  I reached down, hoping that my unskilled hands could please a man like him.  I gripped the base and stroked him lightly.

He moaned, and his big hand encircled mine and moved me up his shaft near the head.

“Like this,” he said, showing me.  “It’s better when it’s wet.  Why don't you suck on it a little?”

It wasn’t a question--it was a command.  He wanted me to suck on him, and I had absolutely no idea how to do it.  I heard that guys liked it anyway you did it, but I wanted to please him, to impress him even.