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Thank You For Being A Friend

I met Kelly during the Spring Term of my first year. We were in a History class in the old bookstore building. On the first day, I noticed a girl smoking clove cigarettes before class. She had a cute face, and I sat beside her in class. After class, she disappeared before I could approach her. The next day she was already in her seat when I got there. After class, it was the same. By the time I got into the hall, she was gone. On the third day, I arrived early, and she was standing near the back door smoking one of her clove cigarettes. I asked her about her cigarettes, and she offered me one. We chatted before class over the next week, and I found myself attracted to her antisocial behavior and deep brown eyes. At the end of the second week, I made a lame come-on, and she rebuffed me but still talked with me. As the term progressed, we became friends. Away from our class, we’d see each other in the bars, the student center, or the library. We’d take smoke breaks together, me with my Marlboros and she with her clove cigarettes. We ran in different circles that never seemed to intersect. Which was unusual in such a small college, but it happened. Still, our friendship grew and carried into our sophomore year. We were ok being in each other’s friends-zone. That is until one afternoon that never happened in early spring.

On that warm April afternoon, the sun won out over the clouds. That afternoon, we challenged the status quo of our friendship. How we ended up on that divergent path is a matter of perspective. We both made choices that could have ended our friendship. Ultimately, our friendship survived, it may even have grown stronger, and secrets can sometimes bond people forever. Here is what happened on that day.

Kelly told me she scored some excellent weed and invited me to her place to try it. We sat on her bed, and she had me roll a pin joint as it was exceptionally strong. After only two tokes, I knew she was right. We got very stoned before we finished the joint. We discussed the taste, aroma, and quality buzz like always. Much like I would discuss and evaluate wine many years later.

Kelly mentioned that she experienced a heightened libido after taking even one toke.

Don’t Bogart that Joint, My Friend…

“Man, this shit fucks me up,” her cadence was languid. Kelly’s eyes become glassy and droopy.”

“I concur…” I laugh, “wow, concur, there’s a five-dollar word for you. Concur, like I’m in college and shit.”

“You are in college,” she slaps my arm and starts laughing.

“Oh, yeah, I guess I am,” laughing harder. “I fake that shit every day. I’m only here for the weed and pussy. Man, this is good shit.”

Kelly laughs so hard that she starts coughing. Hanging out like this is our modus operandi; we get stoned and talk for hours. A lot of the time, we don’t remember the conversations, but we always have a good time.

“Paying tuition for drugs and sex,” she manages to say as she calms down. “It seems like there should be a cheaper way to get both.”

“Probably, but they pay me to go to school.” This was true; my scholarships and grants exceeded the cost of tuition and books. I got a check from the school every term until my senior year.

“Yeah, I know,” she says, “Yeah, I know, I’ve heard it a million times before. I’ve been with you more than once when you picked up your check. Guess it pays to be smart.”

“This weed is killer,” my stoned brain jumped back to the start of the conversation.

“Can I tell you something,” the volume of her voice drops, “and promise not to take it the wrong way?” Kelly places her hand on my arm.

“Sure,” I say, “you know you can tell me anything.” I pat the top of her hand with mine.

“Well, it’s just that,” she’s hesitant and pulls her hand back and clenches her two hands together. “It’s just that this weed does a number on my libido. It gets me horny as hell.”

We just look at each other for a few moments before I respond.

“So you’re telling me,” I try to sound serious. “That you’re turned on right now?”

“Yeah,” her voice is still soft.

“But not because of me?” I ask, sounding a little disappointed.

“Yeah,” is all she says.

“Well, damn,” I say, looking dejected. Then I get a big smile on my face. “That’s why I’m feeling aroused. I’m not lusting over your hot bod. THANK GOD! It’s just the WEED!” I exaggerate the last sentence.

“FUCK YOU!” She laughs and pushes me away from her.

I fall sideways on the bed laughing.

“You wish you could touch this,” she almost sounds indignant. “You’ve wanted to dip your little willie into my mystery spot since we met.”

Kelly sticks out her chest, shakes her head side to side, and then points to her body with both hands, palm up, from her breasts to her hips. We fall into another fit of laughter. I notice her nipples seem more prominent than before.

It is not uncommon for our banter to take on a sexual component. It’s always good fun, and we’re both avrupa yakası escort laughing. I remain flat on the bed with my feet on the floor.

“I’ll admit,” I say, laughing. “I have thought about it from time to time.”

“It looks like it might be one of those times,” she says, looking down at the larger-than-normal bulge in my jeans.

I pick my head up and look down at my body. Sure enough, got a bit of a rise going. I let my head fall back on the bed.

“Friends, don’t stare at friends’ junk,” I jokingly chastise her.

“I’m not staring,” she is a bit defensive, “I just noticed it when you fell backward.”

“You mean when you pushed me,” I corrected her. “Is it getting chilly here?”

Kelly looks at me and then down at her breasts. She shakes her head and backhands the side of my leg.

“Friends, don’t stare at friends’ tits,” she laughs, mimicking me. “Even if they are perfect.”

“Not starring,” I parrot back, “couldn’t help but notice.

The buzz helps send us into another fit of laughing.

“You need to get a girlfriend,” Kelly softly chides me. “What’s happening with your sorority girl?”

“Jan? We see each other, but it’s not serious,” I tell her.

“So, she hasn’t let you fuck her yet?” Kelly says a bit more bluntly than I expected.

“No,” my answer is short but I’m sure she could hear the frustration in my voice.

“You need to find a fuck buddy or something,” her voice almost sounds like she is making fun of my situation. “Get someone to take care of those blue balls she is causing.”

I really don’t want to talk about Jan and whether or not we are fucking. Kelly tweaked a nerve, and I react by firing back from left field.

“So, when did you start calling your muff ‘The Mystery Spot?” I ask, staring at cracks in the ceiling.

“Because it shall always remain a mystery to you,” her voice was snarky.

“Oh, not because guys get disoriented and disappear in its gaping cavern?” I can get snarky too.

“You’re such a fuckwad!” she cries and jumps on me.

Take It Back

“YOU’RE GOING TO PAY FOR THAT INSULT, YOU SONOFABITCH!’ Kelly yells in jest as she attacks me.

Kelly kneels on my thighs, digging her fingers into my ribs. I’m very ticklish, and she knows it, focusing her attack on my sides and under my arms. She is relentless. I’m helpless and overcome with laughter. I don’t try too hard to fend her off because this is fun. The best I can do is try to tickle her back. We frequently play like this when stoned and act more like siblings than just friends. We have a strong affinity with each other because she had no brother, nor did I have a sister.

Soon, our drug-induced tickle match morphed into wrestling. I have almost a hundred pounds on kelly and could easily throw her off me, but I don’t. The weed has affected my libido and aroused me. Kelly being on top adds to it. So even though her knees digging into my thighs is painful, I am getting turned on. I move my legs slightly to reduce the discomfort, causing Kelly’s knees to slip off the outside of my thighs. Her knees land on the bed on either side of my waist, and she straddles my waist. My depraved brain likes this even more. I finally gain control of her arm and roll us over. I’m lying on her, holding her arms over her head. We laugh hysterically, our faces inches apart as she struggles to free her hands. We squirm side to side, and our bodies press and grind against each other. I’m lying between her spread legs and feel my growing erection rubbing over her warm mound. At the same time, I can feel her nipples pressing into my chest. Still laughing, I watch a pink frush rise on Kelly’s cheeks, and I think I am not the only one getting turned on. Kelly takes advantage of my loss of focus.

Kelly is quite strong, and fights back fiercely. She frees her hands and rolls us over as I’m distracted by her body rubbing against mine. Sitting on my hips, she traps my right hand between her leg and my body while holding my left arm by the wrist over my head. I have no leverage, and her free hand wreaks havoc on my ribs. As I lose myself in laughter again, she grabs and twists my nipples through my t-shirt. I complain, feigning injury,

“OW!” I cry, “what the hell?”

“Too bad, college boy,” she laughs and pinches my nipples harder.

Kelly’s tight skirt rode up higher and higher as our melee continued. Soon it reaches her waist, and her panty-covered mound is pressed against my bulge. I know she can feel my erection as she rubs against me. I can feel the wet heat of her sex as she moves it back and forth over my rigid cock. I’m a bit surprised she doesn’t stop. If anything, she is purposely grinding her mound against my cock. I notice the strap of her dress has fallen off her right shoulder, and the top slipped to expose her see-through bra. Kelly’s hard, dark nipple pokes into the thin material covering her perfect breast. Kelly’s upper chest and neck are istanbul escort flushed pink, and her respiration is elevated.

My excitement grows, and I resist thrusting up into her.

I finally free my hand trapped by her leg. Grabbing her left nipple in retaliation, I twist and pinch it. Kelly cries out in surprise, but with a determined smile, she doubles down on her attack. I pinch her other nipple as Kelly jabs her fingernails into my ribcage, trying to get me to submit. I react to this onslaught by bucking and thrusting my hips up forcefully, almost like we’re fucking. This catches Kelly by surprise; she loses balance and falls forward.

Several things happen simultaneously that cause us to stop and freeze our motion.

Our faces end up inches apart, staring into each other’s eyes. Kelly’s lips are close to mine as our breath catches in our throats. In stopping her fall, my left hand firmly grasps her right breast. With only the thin material of her bra between us, her hard nipple presses into my palm, and my right-hand cups her ass. My hips thrust up, my knees bent, and my feet flat on the bed. Kelly’s legs are spread on either side of me, with her hips pressing firmly into mine.

Kelly’s right-hand hits the bed left of my head to stop her fall. Somehow her left arm is pinned between us. Her left-hand ends up between her mound and my crotch. Her palm covers my dick. Mostly erect and quickly getting harder, my cock jerks at her touch. With her skirt up around her waist, my hand rests on the bare skin of her ass. My fingertips are so close to her mound that I can feel the heat emanate from her pussy.

What feels like minutes are only seconds as we lay frozen, staring into each other’s eyes. I can almost taste Kelly’s lips as her hot breath flows across my face. If either of us moves an inch, our lips will meet. After a moment, the surprise in her brown eyes becomes something I’ve not seen before, and I feel her hand flex on my cock.

Considering that Kelly is groping my crotch and her hard nipple presses into my palm, I believe there are only two possible outcomes. One appears more probable than the other; I take a risk. I squeeze her firm, warm globe. Kelly’s eyelids drop partway, and I feel her hand grip and squeeze my member. With more certainty, I slowly and gently fondle her round orb while caressing her firm, smooth ass. Her hips move as my fingers massage the warm bare flesh of her ass. Feeling her hand press into my cock as she rubs her mound against the back of her hand.

Kelly fondles and moves her hand over my cock, gripping me tighter. She tries to stroke me but is limited by her trapped hand. I move my left hand and pinch her nipple as I caress her breast. I shift my other hand to rub the crotch of her panties with my fingertips. She moans softly as I rub her warm, damp panties. I feel her pull her hand out from between us and press the front of her panty-covered mound into my erection. Her fingers move under my shirt before sliding under the front of my jeans. I slide my fingers under the edge of her panties and push the crotch to the side. As my fingers press forward toward her wet heat, I feel her slide through my pubic hair.

We moan softly, and Kelly’s eyes partially close as our fingers explore each other. I start to think we are finally going to fuck. Kelly’s fingers reach my shaft, and she tries to grab it, but the pressure of our two bodies still limits her. She manages to get her fingers over it and pull it toward her. She still can’t wrap her hand around it, so she covers it with her hand. I moan as she squeezes me. My fingers touch her warm, wet labia, brushing up and down over the smooth lips until they part. Kelly moans as my fingers pass between her lips. Kelly tries to grip me tighter and moves her hand up and down my stiff shaft. I hook her bra with my thumb. Pulling it up and off her heaving globe. My hand massages the warm bare flesh of her breast.

When my fingers push into Kelly’s hot channel, our lips meet in an open mouth kiss. Our tongues dance as we exchange hot eager breaths. Slipping my fingers deeper, pumping and flexing them inside her. Kelly’s body spasms, moaning into my mouth before moving to better grip my erection.

“I can’t wait to feel myself inside you,” I groan as her fingers wrap around my cock. These are the first words we have said since entering this position.

“Um, yeah, you’re so wet, cum for me Kelly,” I moan into her mouth.

The sloppy wet sounds of my fingers pumping into her pussy fill the room.

Kelly’s eyes snap open. She makes a sound of unwanted surprise, pulls her hand out of my jeans, and pushes herself off me. I let go of her, and she rolls to her right onto her back next to me.

“No, no, no, fuck,” she mumbles breathlessly.

We lay there quietly for over a minute; only the sound of our breathing breaks the silence.

I don’t react and lay still, staring at the ceiling. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kelly anadolu yakası escort casually pull her bra over her breast, pull the strap over her shoulder, and pull the hem of her skirt down, covering herself.

Lying side-by-side, neither of us speaks or moves for a few minutes.

If I Could Turn Back Time

“Well, wasn’t that special,” I finally say, jokingly.

I turn my head towards her. Kelly looks at me, void of any expression. We crack up laughing. Regardless of what happened, we are still stoned out of our minds. I laugh so hard my ribs hurt. Tears form at the corners of her eyes.

“I need to pee,” she announces after our laughter dies.

“Thanks for sharing,” I say as she sits up.

Kelly backhands my leg in response and walks to her bathroom. I get up and sit on the edge of the bed like before. Momentarily alone, I take this opportunity to first taste and lick Kelly’s pussy juice from my fingertips. She tastes fantastic, but I will never be able to tell her that. Second, I stand up, open my jeans and rearrange my junk. My semi-hardon doesn’t want to go away. I hear the toilet flush and the sink faucet run, and I sit down just before the bathroom door opens. She returns, her dress and hair arranged as if nothing happened, and grabs a fresh bottle of water from her mini-fridge. She offers me one, and I accept. Closing the fridge, Kelly sits on the bed next to me. She hands me the water.

We drink from our bottles, and I cap mine before setting it on the floor.

“Need to drain the vein,” I say as I stand up and walk toward the bathroom.

“Thanks for sharing,” she mimics me.

I try to ignore my sexual frustration as I stand, trying to piss. I always have a hard time urinating when my cock is enlarged. Distracting myself with thoughts about Kelly’s room, I finally begin to go. The house she rents is in a little neighborhood, down the hill from the college and close to downtown. Most houses are rentals of various conditions, but her’s was recently renovated and is quite nice. Her bedroom is the master with an ensuite bathroom. It’s not big, but it has all one needs; a toilet, sink, and shower. And she doesn’t share with her housemates. It also came with a queen-size bed and all the linens. Which is very unusual for a college rental. Once I relieved myself, I readjusted my junk. Looking in the mirror, I see my hair is a mess. I use her hairbrush to make myself more presentable.

I wash my hands, flush the toilet, and open the door. Kelly’s head snaps toward me as she frantically straightens her dress. She looks like I caught her off guard and has a mischievous smile. Self-absorbed in thoughts of Kelly’s body, I think nothing of it. I rejoin Kelly on the bed and barely notice her skirt is bunched up and above the top of her thigh-length socks.

We sit on the bed silently for a few minutes, staring out the window. It seems like an hour.

“We gonna talk about this?” I say, finally breaking the silence.

“Nah,” she says, and a little smile grows on her lovely face. “I’ll bury it way down so it will be something my shrink will resurface after my 2nd divorce.”

We laugh, but it’s a little strained.

“Sorry about…,” my voice is soft and apologetic, “what just happened.”

I want to say, “let’s get naked and fuck,” but apologizing is the right thing to say.

“What did you do?” she asks jokingly, “clog my toilet?”

“No, I mean…,” I start to say, ignoring her joke.

“I know what you meant,” she laughs, touching my knee. “It’s ok; I’m just as responsible. We’re both culpable.” She pauses for a moment.

“I love this weed,” she continued, her fingers squeezing my knee, “but damn, it gets me feisty.”

“Feisty? Really?” strong disbelief fills my voice. “You’re feeling feisty? What the hell does that mean?” I know what she means, but I ask to make her say it more clearly.

“Feisty, ah, you know, frisky,” she says with a ‘you know what I mean’ expression.

I meet her gaze with a blank stare. She’s usually so straightforward; why is she acting so coy?

“Horny! Ok? It makes me so fucking horny,” she blurts out, “is that what you wanted me to say?”

“I just wanted clarity,” I say somewhat flatly.

“I’m horny,” she says, slapping her hands on her things, her voice thick with exasperation. “I think you could tell.”

I stay quiet as we look at each other. Now I notice Kelly’s skirt; I can see the bare skin of her upper thighs. What was she doing when I was in the bathroom?

“And you are too. You felt hard as a rock,” frustration in her voice, and she glances at the bulge in my jeans, “it’s fucking obvious you still are, or you got a sock stuffed in your jeans.”

Her eyes move to mine, and her lips turn up in a wry smile.

“Yes,… yes I am,” I admit, smiling at her, “I never saw the reason for sock subterfuge.”

She laughs, and I can’t help but notice her nipples poking through her dress.

“No, I don’t think you need to,” she says, her voice more relaxed.

“Have you experienced socks in all the wrong places?” I ask, laughing.

“Yes,” a little smile rises on her lips, “and he wasn’t that small. He knew how to use it, and he was cute. So it wasn’t a terrible experience.”

“Anyone I know?” I ask. “Did ya go out with him again?”

“Hmmm, yes and no,” she responds.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

This is the first chapter of a multi-part story spanning years, detailing how an unexpected encounter completely changed the coarse of my life.

Up until meeting Danielle, my sex life had been pretty pedestrian. It wasn’t that I didn’t land my fair share of girls before her, I had a reasonably active dating and sex life, it was just that it was all so, well, normal.

I am a fairly average guy, just shy of 6′ tall and while not particularly muscular, I am reasonably fit. I have brown eyes and brown hair which I keep cut fairly short, and am a decent-looking fellow. As part of a party game one time, my female friends all discussed it, and gave me a consensus rating of 7, which I think is pretty generous.

I am average below the belt as well, measuring in at about 6″. I have been told by past girlfriends and hook-ups that my cock’s girth and big head more than make up for any deficiency in length. I am easy-going, and I tend to not let stuff bother me. I have a really good job that pays a ton working as a software engineer. A bit nerdy maybe, but girls like a guy with money. I think I am a pretty good catch, if I do say so myself.

Before Danielle, I would meet girls, date or hook-up, and while the girls I pulled where attractive, and the sex was mostly good, there was no real excitement to it. I don’t know if excitement is really the word, it certainly was exciting to get laid. But I had no crazy stories to tell with which I could draw a roar of laughter or make the listener’s jaws drop in shock or disbelief. I had no fucking in public, no blowjobs in inappropriate places, no getting caught stories, or any of the other funny/crazy tales that you tell others at parties, the bar, or during games.

Danielle changed all that, and not because she was some wild, out-of-control nympho who wanted to do it everywhere we went, though she was definitely the most adventurous girl I had been with. The occasional blowjob in the movie theater, sex in the fitting room, road head while driving; all these and more suddenly spiced up my sex life. She emboldened me to do some of the things I may have thought about or wanted to do in the past.

It was like she was a catalyst to change my path forever, and for the rest of my life, whether she was an active participant in it at the time or not, every decision, every relationship, everything that made me the man I am, all traced back to that fateful moment in that club so many years ago.

For better… or for worse.

Meeting Danielle

November, 1999

I met Danielle on a Friday night in November at the local 18+ club. It wasn’t a place my group of friends and I normally frequented. The other dance club in town had to shut down temporarily to repair fairly serious roof and flooding damage, and because girls love to dance, our female friends insisted on coming here instead. The place was super crowded, as apparently we weren’t the only ones looking for a substitute to our usual hangout.

It was your typical dance club, with flashing lights and strobes, and ear-crushing music. I had hung around with my friends in the thick of it for as long as I could stand before excusing myself and heading to one of the side rooms where it was a bit quieter, though not by much. I was lucky and was able to quickly snag a small round table from a couple that were just getting up to leave.

I sank down into the L-shaped plush bench jammed behind the table in the corner of the room and waited for a couple minutes until an attractive young woman in leggings and a tank top which highlighted her tits came over. I checked out her generous cleavage, though trying not to be obvious about it, as she leaned over and picked up the cash and empty glasses the table’s previous tenants had left. I ordered a beer and leaned back to relax, admiring her shapely rear as she walked away.

A minute later she returned with my drink and I gave her a $10 for the beer and tip. I melted back into the cushions of the bench, and found myself watching the serving girl as she stopped a few tables away and bent over to wipe up a spill. She squatted down to pick up a fallen glass, and her leggings rode down and the crease of her ass was briefly visible. It didn’t look like she was wearing any underwear. I smiled to myself as I watched the show.

“Real subtle!” a girl’s voice laughed, and I blinked and came out of my daze. I looked away from the waitress I had been staring at and saw two young ladies standing by my table, watching me. I reddened slightly at being caught staring as the girl who had spoken turned her head to look at the waitress, while the other girl covered her mouth with a hand and tried to stifle a giggle. They both looked really young, and I glanced down at the back of their hands to see the large black X’s drawn in marker to denote a patron who isn’t old enough to drink.

“Sorry, you caught me, didn’t mean to offend,” I said.

“We’re not offended, she has a great ass!” second girl beykoz escort blurted and they both laughed.

“Can we sit down with you? Our feet are killing us, and the rest of this place is packed,” first girl asked.

I looked at the spot on the opposite side of the table from me where someone had stolen the matching chair. “Looks like someone stole the chair that goes with the table, the couple here before me were sitting on this bench together.”

Before I could say anything else, first girl replied, “That’s ok, we don’t mind sitting with you.” They both moved around the table and sat down on opposite sides of me, as I shuffled into the center of the L-shaped bench. There was room for all three of us, but not a lot of extra breathing space.

I put my arms on the back of the bench on either side of me so I didn’t have to hunch forward and keep my arms in front of me in an awkward position to make room for them. This didn’t seem to bother them, even though it put me within inches of having my arms around both of their shoulders. Due to the shape of the bench, they were both turned towards me, facing each other across my body. They both wore super short shorts, and their hips and bare legs pressed against me.

“I’m Danielle, that’s my cousin Ronda,” first girl told me, and the two of them broke into a fit of giggling.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Tim,” I replied and quickly sized them up.

Both young women had wavy brown hair that fell about halfway down their backs. Danielle’s seemed thicker, but both of them looked great and it was obvious they had spent a lot of time on their hair before heading out tonight. They both had subtle makeup on, and I immediately loved that about them. I find natural looking makeup so much more attractive than some of the heavy, overdone stuff that a lot of girls seem to like.

Each girl had sexy brown eyes accentuated by cat’s eye liner with black wings sweeping out the far sides. Both girls were very pretty, and I could see a slight resemblance between them, in the shape of their mouths and the angle of their noses, which made sense since they were apparently cousins.

While neither of them were drop dead gorgeous, there wasn’t a man on earth who wouldn’t agree that they were extremely attractive, both exuding some intangible appeal that was suddenly causing my heart to beat faster and my groin to take notice.

Their bodies were where the biggest differences between them lay. Ronda wore a loose sleeveless t-shirt tucked into her shorts, with large arm holes on each side open almost to her waist. She wore a black lacy corset-style bra that was easily visible through the arm slits.

Her breasts were small, though seemed nicely shaped, and suited her 5’1″ frame. Her legs were thin but hot, and looked smooth to the touch. From my vantage point, I couldn’t get a read on her ass, but I assumed it was small and tight. Her lips were full and glistened with what looked like a gloss, one perhaps with the subtlest hint of pink in it to accentuate the natural color.

Danielle had a crop top t-shirt on that would probably have hung to her belly button if her tits weren’t so large, but instead hung to only a few inches below her boobs, exposing a lot of skin down to her shorts. Her breasts were full, probably D’s, and her bra pushed them together to maximum effect, providing a view of gorgeous cleavage through the low cut v-neck of her shirt.

Where Ronda’s body was attractive yet thin, Danielle’s was full and curvy. She had a thin waist that flared slightly at the hips, in perfect proportion, and her silky bare legs had more obvious curves. Her ass wasn’t in view either, but from the rest of her I guessed it was a nice full one.

“If you’re done checking us out…” Danielle smirked and I started, realizing my eyes had been looking down her shirt. “You do like to stare at the ladies, don’t you?”

I blushed furiously and started to stammer out a reply. “Stop messing with him, Danielle,” Ronda giggled, reaching across me and slapping Danielle’s arm playfully.

Danielle laughed. “I’m just fucking with you, Tim, you’re fine. I stare at these babies all the time, and all I have to do is look down.” She smiled at me, hefting and squeezing her tits in her hands suggestively. Involuntarily I stared at her chest, and it wasn’t until an amused clearing of the throat did I realize just how damn long my eyes had been glued to her exposed, jiggling cleavage.

My face burned as I forceably tore my gaze away and back to her face, her mouth twitching and eyebrows raised in amusement.

I felt it was safer to try to move away from this topic, so I asked unsteadily, “You two here with friends?”

“No, just us, Danielle turned 18 on Tuesday, and we’re here celebrating the first time both of us can get in without fakes,” Ronda chimed in.

I looked at her. “You’re both 18? You look really young.” That actually surprised me; other than the somewhat slutty way they were kurtköy escort dressed, neither of them looked 18, Ronda especially, and my first unconscious assumption was that they had snuck in.

Ronda blushed, and Danielle said, “She gets that a lot, she looks like a freaking 12 year old.” She eyed me with feigned suspicion. “Why are you so interested in whether we really are 18? Does how young we look turn you on? Are you some kinda perv who likes them young?”

They laughed together and Ronda asked me in mock seriousness, “Are you a perv?”

My face reddened, and I tried to buy some time to think of a response by taking the last pull from my beer.

“That isn’t a no!” Danielle said wickedly, and they both burst into more laughter.

I smiled weakly and tried to steer the conversation again away from dangerous waters. “Sooo, your birthday was Tuesday, huh? That’s cool, mine is this Monday.”

Danielle beamed. “That’s awesome, how old will you be?” She leaned in as she said it, and I felt a boob brush against my arm before she leaned back again.

“Um, uh,” I cleared my throat and I tried to remember what she had just said to me. “Um, 23! I’ll be 23,” I said in a rush.

“Old man!” they both squealed at the same time and broke into fits of laughter.

I grinned and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, just because you two are still playing with My Little Pony doesn’t make me old, it just makes you young.”

“And we already established that you’re a perv who likes them young!” Danielle teased and Ronda burst into a fresh bout of laughter.

“We did no such thing!” I said with feigned indignation. “I swear, I’m a perv who likes them over the legal age!”

They both broke into more laughter, and I suddenly felt Danielle’s hand on my thigh. “Oh my god, I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe!” she wheezed.

“I think I peed a little!” Ronda blurted and the gales of laughter erupted all over again. Danielle’s hand moved a couple inches and was now firmly on my inner thigh, dangerously close to my suddenly awakening manhood. The two of them gasped and tried to catch their breath, laughing still.

The waitress appeared by the table, and I ordered another beer, and the girls ordered margaritas. The young woman picked up my empty and, eyeing the X’s on the girl’s hands, and said, “Be right back with your beer and two virgin margaritas.”

Danielle stuck her tongue out at her retreating back and jokingly said, “That’s right, bitch, you better walk away!” I watched her glistening pink tongue slide across her lips and back into her mouth, and the dirty thoughts going through my head caused a further stiffening in my pants.

Her hand still hadn’t moved from its place on my inner thigh.

Clearing my throat, I said to Ronda, “So I take it you two used to sneak in with fakes?”

“Whatever are you talking about?” she asked innocently.

I snorted and she smiled and said, “I still have mine even though I don’t need it, I’ll show it to you after the waitress comes back, would be kind of suspicious if she caught you closely examining my ID.”

“I don’t know that I’ve ever seen an actual fake ID before, does it really look real?”

“There’s a girl at school whose older brother makes them. Mine says I am 19,” she said sheepishly, “No one would believe I am 21, and I can go dancing in this club, and my older brother buys us all the alcohol we ask for… so I just said make me 19,” she finished lamely.

“And I guess you don’t need a fake anymore either, you can just use your real ID,” I said to Danielle.

“Is that your subtle way of saying you wanna see mine too, to make sure I really am 18? Apparently you like them young, will you be disappointed if I really am?” She smirked suggestively and I felt her hand gently squeeze and release my thigh. I groaned inwardly as my cock swelled in response.

“I, er, I mean, nothing…” I started to protest, but I was saved by the return of the waitress with our drinks. She placed the beer and two margaritas on the table, and watched as I leaned back and stretched my legs out a bit to make it easier to get my money clip out of my pocket. This had the effect of making the placement of Danielle’s hand obvious to anyone who looked, as she kept it firmly in place, moving it in sync with the movement of my legs and hips.

Ronda giggled, and covered her grin with a hand, and the waitress looked at us with raised eyebrows. I blushed furiously, and peeled off a $50 and mumbled, “Keep the change.” The waitress smiled and turned with a flare of her hips and ass and sauntered away.

Danielle watched appreciatively as I replaced the clip in my pocket and settled back, her hand never leaving its spot so close to my crotch. She leaned forward to pick up her glass, and just happened to give me a perfect view down the front of her shirt, the smooth flesh of her round tits glowing in the club’s illumination.

“Thanks for the drinks, perv,” şerifali escort she purred, and I felt her hand slowly rub a circle around my thigh, brushing against the uncomfortable bulge of my hard-on trapped in my pants. Another gentle squeeze and her hand was gone, and I sighed in both relief and disappointment.

We enjoyed our drinks and the girls chatted animatedly with me for a while. Danielle never missed an opportunity to touch me, playfully swatting my arm, or putting her hand my leg, or brushing her breasts against me whenever she adjusted her posture.

I told them I had just graduated college the year before and had been hired as a software engineer at a small start-up right out of school. They seemed impressed, though I think it was more at the money I hinted I was making, and the fat money clip I pulled out when we ordered another round of drinks. I described my apartment in town, and told some stories from school and college.

In turn, the girls confirmed they still attended the local high school, and told some stories of their own about slutty cheerleaders, the popular football player who was rumored to have a micro-penis, and other shenanigans. They gossiped and argued about boys, music and which classmate was most likely to end up stripping.

After a while, Danielle grabbed my hand and entwined her fingers with mine and said, “Come on, I wanna dance!” Ronda hopped up, and I groaned as Danielle stood and pulled my arm, trying to get me out of my seat. I slowly and reluctantly stood, giving a feeble protest that I don’t really dance, and they would be embarrassed to be seen on the dance floor with me and my moves.

“Don’t worry, just stand and sway your hips and we’ll just dance and grind on you!” Ronda beamed at me devilishly.

“First I gotta pee,” Danielle announced, and dragged me towards the hall where the nearest restrooms were located, Ronda trailing close behind. As expected, there was a line for the ladies room.

Danielle looked annoyed, then a a devilish grin spread across her face and she whispered a single word, “Reconnaissance,” and quickly stepped to the end of the hall and peered around the corner, back into the employee recesses of the club.

She disappeared around the corner for a few long moments, before bouncing back to us and whispering conspiratorially into Ronda’s ear. Ronda blushed slightly, and put a hand to her mouth to hide a smile and nodded.

She and Danielle slowly and with feigned casualness sauntered towards the back hallway, pulling me along, and when it seemed like no one was paying attention, quickly pushed me around the bend and into a dark hallway, out of view of anyone. The hall ended with what appeared to be a fire door to outside, and there was another door marked storage.

I was immediately shoved up against a wall, and I felt Danielle’s lips on mine. She pressed herself to me, and it only took a moment of surprise before I eagerly kissed her back, and I felt her body melt into me. She had her hands in my hair, locking her lips to my mouth, her soft tongue exploring my lips and playfully entwining with mine.

It was a glorious, mind-melting kiss, and I can’t say I’ve ever experienced better. We stood frozen in that moment, our mouths interlocked, our tongues wrestling, our bodies molded to each other. She lifted a leg up high to my waist, and I reached down and ran a hand up its silky length before grabbing it under her bare thigh, reveling in the smooth flesh, as she wrapped it around me, grinding herself on my leg.

My other hand fell from her back and found a handful of ass and I gripped it tightly, groping her. Danielle ground her shorts-clad crotch against my leg, and moaned against my mouth as we kissed. I felt my cock harden in response, and apparently so did she, because she moaned again and dropped one hand from my head and pushed it between our entangled bodies. She quickly found the bulge and pressed her hand hard against it, rubbing in circles and squeezing my hard-on through my pants.

It was my turn to moan, as pleasure washed through my body, coming in waves from the way she worked my cock through my pants. I forced my hand down the back of her tight shorts, getting another handful of her, this time of bare ass flesh.

We kissed and grinded against each other for several moments, and I was getting a bit lightheaded as all my blood left my brain and headed straight to my raging hard-on.

“Jeez, get a room you two,” Ronda giggled, and I suddenly came back to reality. I had forgotten where I was and that Ronda was standing right there, watching Danielle and I grope each other.

“We will,” Danielle purred devilishly, and pulled me away from the wall, and pushed open a door a couple feet further down the dark hall. “You’ll watch?” she asked Ronda, who giggled and nodded, nervously peaking back around the corner towards the restrooms and the busy club beyond them.

“Be quick,” she warned with a smile, and Danielle dragged me through the now open doorway.

I found myself in what must have been an unused office/storage area. There were old, dusty light fixtures strewn about, some beat up speakers and wiring piled haphazardly around the room, and various discarded items in here. There was a dust-covered desk against the left wall, with a few scattered flyers across its surface.

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A couple of days after my parent/teacher meeting with Mrs. Boyd (whose first name I found out was Lisa). Zack brought home a note from school. It was in an envelope that was sealed. When he finally got around to giving it to me, I opened it quickly and read, “Our meeting was very productive and you and I both came to the point quickly. I admire your thrust, getting fully into the opening and remaining on the topic until the matter was resolved to both our satisfaction.”

She enclosed her personal email address.

I waited a couple of days before responding. It killed me to wait, I felt like a horny teenager playing the game of not letting her know that I “liked” her, if by “like” you mean I want her to suck my cock and open her legs for me again. My cock got hard every time I thought about our recent session in the back seat of my Suburban.

When I did respond I apologized for the delay in getting back to her. I told her that the meeting was exciting and pleasurable for me as well. Then I asked her if this was a good email to use for more personal correspondence.

We started a week or so of teasing emails which I hoped would get me in her again.

Finally, I made an overture for a Friday evening that I knew Zack would be spending at his mother’s home. I made several excuses she could use for her husband and promised I’d have her on the way home by 11.

We finally arranged for Friday evening, as a “Home Visit.”

“You can’t miss it,” I emailed, “It’s the biggest house on the street.”

A few hours later I heard a car in the driveway followed closely by footsteps approaching the door. I opened the door to Lisa. She looked stunning. Wearing a pencil skirt that came just above her knees, a crisp white blouse that buttoned up the front (with a couple of buttons undone to show cleavage), and black stilettos.

“Wow,” I said, “You look stunning.”

She blushed a bit as I escorted her into the entry hall.

“Let me give you the tour,” I said.

We walked around the house, to the gourmet kitchen, though I admitted that I was only adequate at making a couple of things. We continued through the great room with its large fireplace and a view of the lake, the boat dock, and the outside covered patio that extended to the pool with a connecting spa/hot tub.

After the tour of the first floor, we went up the winding marble stairway to the second floor. My office, the home theater, and the bedrooms. I pointed out Zack’s room near the theater room.

Last was the tour of the primary suite with its large attached bathroom.

As we walked toward the attached bathroom, I noticed her glancing at the king-size bed. I’m sure she noticed that it had already been turned down and was covered by just a sheet. She didn’t say anything at the time.

We finished the tour upstairs on the balcony off the master bedroom overlooking the lake.

“OK, now for that drink,” I said.

We went back downstairs to the great room and I said, “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.”

I quickly returned to ask what sort of drink she would like.

“Surprise me,” she said.

She was sitting on the couch when I returned with her drink. “A dirty martini for the lady,” I said as I offered the tray with two drinks. She took one and said, “Thank you.”

I set the tray on the coffee table and raised my glass. “To an evening of stimulating conversation,” I said.

She smiled at me with a look that could only say that she knew exactly what I meant.

me

I sat down next to her and we talked about a number of things. My career as a financial advisor. My life, my hobbies of boating and swimming — I was a swimmer at college, my son and the acrimony between me tuzla escort and my ex-wife.

I then shifted the conversation to her. I asked her straight away if she had always had big tits, and if so, I bet she was popular with the boys in high school and college.

She blushed a bit at my personal question, but slowly she started to loosen up and answered. No, she didn’t always have such large “tits,” that they came along after her pregnancy. She wasn’t anything spectacular in high school or college. There were plenty of other girls with “big ones” at both her high school and college.

She did confess to being a skilled and eager cocksucker, learning in high school and perfecting her skills in college.

She did admit that her exquisite tits were due to the birth of her daughter. Before she was a C cup (an ample bra full for the boys in high school and college), but during her pregnancy, they grew to massive proportions of the DD bra she now fills.

I teased her about being a MILF and advised her that I have a special place in my fantasies for MILFs.

After a couple of additional dirty martinis Lisa opened up and told me that after the birth of her daughter and the major changes to her body, she developed a compulsive need for sex. It got to be more than her husband could provide. Over the past several months there have been many evenings, like tonight, with men other than her husband. Men she barely knew. Some, she confided, were exciting and satisfied her, some were very disappointing.

I was dumbstruck at her words, but she continued by telling me that she must be completely discrete, that if the people at school ever found out about her needs and strong desires her job would be in jeopardy.

I assured her that I understood and that I would honor her need for complete silence and discretion, but God, I was so fucking turned on by her words. Skilled cocksucker, has big tits, and fucks guys other than her husband and he is OK with it.

I was sure he was getting his share, but, damn, she wanted more. I realize I am a pig in always seeking out married women to fuck, but this is like public service for her and her husband.

So, with all that said, I put down my drink and moved to her, and kissed her passionately. She eagerly returned the kiss. We kissed, talked some more, and went back to kissing. She pressed her full, firm breasts against me as we made out like two horny teenagers.

I found myself laying on my back with my head resting on the arm of the sofa and she was laying on top of me.

I felt my cock harden and I could see her nipples were hard through her blouse. She slowly ground herself against my cock.

After several minutes of the exquisite pleasure of grinding against my cock, she pulled back from our deep kiss. She looked at me and said, “Are we going to do it here?”

“We can if you want to,” I said, “but I believe we’d be more comfortable upstairs.”

She slowly moved off me and stood near the couch as I got up. A smile crossed my face as I leaned in again to kiss her.

I took her hand and we started upstairs to the bedroom. “Do you want me to undress you, or do you want to do it for me,” I asked.

Once we reached the bedroom, she went to the far side of the bed, turned and looked at me, and reached down to take off her shoe. “No, don’t,” I said, “You leave them on for now?”

She smiled and moved to the buttons on the front of her blouse. Slowly, one by one, she unbuttoned them and slipped the blouse off, and draped it over a nearby chair. “God, your tits in that bra are breathtaking,” I said.

She smiled and reached for the zipper on the back of her skirt and slid it göztepe escort slowly off.

She stepped out of the skirt and reached down to get it and place it on the chair with her blouse.

She was wearing a small sheer thong that matched her bra. “Shall I continue or do you want to come over and help with the rest,” she asked.

I walked over to her and took her hands and turned her slowly. “I want to savor this gift before I unwrap it,” I said.

I twirled her around and wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her tightly to me. I nuzzled her neck and told her how beautiful she was as my hands cupped her large tits and gently pinched her already hard nipples. My hands then moved down her body, caressing her belly before I reached her pussy. Covered by a very small triangle of sheer fabric, it was radiating heat.

I ran my fingers over her pussy and slipped my fingers down into the thong. Her pussy was smooth and wet as my fingers found my way inside her. With one hand I fingered her cunt and with my other hand, I pulled the thong down over her hips until it slid to the floor.

She opened her legs slightly to allow my fingers to penetrate her deeply. My fingers spread her labia and stroked her aroused clit.

She was breathing heavily, enjoying my fingering talents, and moaning softly.

I’m sure she would have loved for me to finger her to a massive climax, but reluctantly I withdrew my fingers and slid my hands back up to her tits. Her tits were still encased in the sheer bra. I eagerly found the front clasp and unhooked the bra, pulling the material away from her large breasts. Once the material released her breasts, my hands again cupped them and squeezed them.

I kissed her neck and guided her to the bed. She sat on the edge of the bed as I began to undress. My cock was fully erect and sprung free as I slid my boxers off.

She smiled and reached toward it.

Her hand hefted my cock while the other cupped and gently squeezed my balls.

She smiled up at me, still holding my cock in her hand, and whispered, “I want you, “I want your cock deep inside me.”

My cock was hard and eager to give her what she and I wanted.

She lay down on the bed,

I moved to a kneeling position on the bed.

“You look very aroused,” I said.

“I have a very eager cunt,” she said to me. “I call it my cunt, you can to if you’d like, and I won’t be offended.

I moved forward and moved my head to her cunt. “In that case,” I said, “I’d like to pleasure your cunt.”

Eagerly I traced my tongue along the folds of her labia and I moved my hand to a position above her vagina and started massaging her eager cunt. I spread the folds of her pussy exposing her clit and started eagerly, licking her with the tip of my tongue. “Oh, yes, yes,” she moaned as my tongue pleasured her.

“It’s like you know what I need,” she said.

I continued licking her cunt, her clit, and the folds of her labia for several minutes. She reached down and ran her fingers through my hair. As she became more and more excited, she pulled my head tightly against her cunt.

She was breathing hard and moaning loudly as a sign she was enjoying my going down on her. Wanting something in return, I moved away and knelt on the bed with my knees on either side of her head. I slowly leaned forward feeling the delicious fullness of her tits against my body and resumed licking her eager pussy.

As I eagerly went down on her, I felt her hand encircle my cock and slowly stroke it. Wanting more, I lifted my hips to allow her to move my hard cock to her mouth and she eagerly engulfed it with her warm, wet mouth.

“Oh, God, you bostancı escort are driving me crazy,” she said. “Make me cum, I need you to make me cum. It feels so good.”

She pulled my head tightly to her cunt as her body began convulsing with pleasure. She lifted her hips as my tongue probed her.

Her body convulsed for what seemed like forever. I kept stimulating her “cunt” for the entire time, never slowing my pace to give her an extended orgasm.

When her orgasm subsided, she let go of my head. I quickly moved next to her on the bed. She was breathing hard but managed to say, “That was fantastic. You made me come so intensely.”

When I pulled back from a passionate kiss and slowly moved to a kneeling position on the bed. My cock was hard and throbbing. I moved to a position between her legs and grasped my cock with one hand and placed the other hand on her belly just above her pussy. I moved my hand slowly upward to open her moist cunt, and pushed my cock into her excited vagina. I slid the head of my cock up and down through the folds of her labia. She lifted her hips and my prick glided into her. “Oh, fuck, you are so tight and hot,” I moaned as my cock filled her slowly.

She wrapped her arms around my body and spread her legs to allow me to enter her. I moaned as she gripped my cock with the muscles of her cunt. She moaned as my balls brushed against the swollen lips of her vagina. I glided all the way into her delicious, warm, married cunt. Nothing feels as good as a married woman’s eagerly given pussy.

She grabbed my ass and said softly, “Don’t move. I want to enjoy the feel of your cock.”

I smiled down at her and waited patiently as she accommodated to the girth of my dick. She contracted her cunt around my shaft again and smiled back at me.

My cock filled her moist cunt. She was a willing wonton wife, enjoying fucking a man other than her husband. I was the lucky bastard with his cock deep inside her willing cunt. The weight of my body pressed against her belly and those large, full breasts.

My head pressed next to her neck, and I kissed her neck as I began fucking her exquisite cunt.

Her hands went to my head and she hugged me tightly. “You are so hot and tight,” I whispered into her ear.

“Your cock is so big,” she whispered to me. We lay there together as I slowly fucked her. She raised her hips slightly allowing me full access to her eager, tight cunt.

After a few moments, I moved to support myself above her. I continued fucking her, watching the expression of pleasure and lust sweep over her face.

I was fascinated by the way her full tits swayed as my cock pumped away at her eager cunt.

It was hot, tight, and actively involved with giving me as much pleasure as I was giving her.

I could feel the head of my cock pushing against her cervix with each thrust and once or twice I felt it push into her cervical opening.

I fucked her hard and I could feel my cock getting hotter and thicker. I knew I was going to come soon, so I tried to slow my pace. She wasn’t doing anything to help me delay my orgasm; with every thrust, her talented pussy gripped tightly at my cock. I was close and she was urging me on, “Oh God, Oh God, this is so good. Fill me, don’t stop, fill me. Cum in me,” she said loudly.

My cock throbbed deep inside her. I felt my first jet flood her cunt.

“Oh God, you are such a great fuck,” I said, as jet after jet filled her eager cunt.

I kept pumping, but slowed my pace, as I emptied my balls deep into her. Pushing myself deeply into her now oozing pussy, I lay still and enjoyed the pleasure of coming into her.

When I stopped coming, I slid out of her and we moved back to the center of the bed. I lay there next to her, both of us breathing hard from the pleasure we had given each other My cock was still hard and covered with my sperm and her lubrication

“Shit, what time is it,” she asked?

“About 8:45 or so, why,” I replied.

“I told my husband I’d be home by nine,” she said. “Where is my phone?”

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Tom sucked in his breath as he opened the door and entered the Seacrest Restaurant where his twentieth high school reunion was being held. He had debated whether to attend the event or not as he didn’t like “taking a trip down memory lane”. It wasn’t his style. He was a businessman, professional, a progressive, even visionary and lingering in the past was not what he wanted to do. It did no good. It got him nowhere and he was a man who wanted to go forward, was goal oriented, and excited for the future. Even the suit he wore was very contemporary and he sported a trimmed beard, also the look of a modern man who was going somewhere. He personified the look of someone who was determined and undeterred and was using the reunion to let people know that he had made a success of his life. It worked to some extent as many gathered around him to comment how well he looked and Tom didn’t hesitate to suck in the accolades and adorations from those he felt were beneath him. That was until he saw Catherine across the room sipping a red colored punch watching him.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he gazed at her. She was beautiful, shapely, with long blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall, and wore an emerald green dress that fit close to her body. She bit her lip as he came closer to her. She smelled fantastic, and unlike the others, life hadn’t beaten her down into submission. Catherine was his high school girlfriend and when they graduated and went their separate ways to college, he had felt that he had lost his best friend. She was the first girl he had ever had sex with and honestly the first he had ever loved. The romance lasted through high school and everyone thought they would eventually marry, but they were wrong. Tom wanted more out of life than working in a factory or a mill which was most ended up doing when they graduated. He wanted more out of life and that included other women. When Catherine was told of his ambitions, she broke off with him. Tom hadn’t thought much about it until now as he stood next to her exuding the warmth of a woman he had once cared about.

“Hello Catherine,” he said in a quiet voice. “It’s been a long time.”

Catherine brushed her hair back away from her face with her hand exposing her neck that he found arousing. She licked her lips from the punch she had been drinking before she spoke.

“Hi Tom. Yes, it’s been a long time. How have you been?”

I’ve been well. I’m in New York now,” he began.

“That’s nice,” she said trying to avoid eye contact with him.

“Where are you located?” he asked.

She hesitated.

“Did you ever leave?” he asked.

“I’m in Philadelphia,” she answered.

“Married? Kids?”

“Divorced. One son. Devin,” she replied. “And you?”

“Likewise. Divorced. Two kids. Emma and Tom Jr.”

There was an awkward pause. Tom poured himself a cup of punch and debated whether to continue the conversation.

“Are you here alone?” he asked.

Again Catherine hesitated. “Yes, I am.”

“Me too,” as he smiled at her. “I didn’t think I would ever attend one of these things and now here I am,” he smiled showing perfectly straight white teeth.

“This is the first one for me, too.”

“So are you staying in the hotel next door?” he asked and saw that she tensed.

“Yes,” she said, “Just for the night. I’m going back to Philadelphia in the morning.”

“To see a boyfriend?”

“No,” she said setting her cup down.

Tom had overstepped his bounds, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she began.

The band began to play and just as she spoke, a man who was strongly built walked over to Catherine and stood between her and Tom.

“Do you want to dance?” he asked Catherine.

Catherine looked up at an old friend with a sigh of relief.

“I’d love to, Henry,” she said and took his hand as he led her to the dance floor.

The music played some forgotten tune and Henry danced her away from Tom who just stood there looking at the two in amazement.

“I see Tom’s back,” Henry said.

“Unfortunately, maltepe escort yes.”

“I thought things like this were beneath him,” Henry said dryly.

“He just wants to show off how well he’s doing.”

“Nothing like being a little narcissistic. That will get him a long way especially in this small town. I never knew what you saw in him,” Henry said.

“I don’t know either. I guess I was young and naïve,” Catherine said.

“We all were,” Henry added. “By the look in his eyes, I think he has a few regrets himself. He keeps looking at you.”

“Oh no,” Catherine said.

“Don’t worry. If you want you can stay with Debbie and me. We have a spare room.”

“That’s kind of you both.”

“I’m not being kind. Debbie told me to come over here and get you away from him and ask you to stay with us.”

“She’s good for you. Tell her thank you, but I’ll be all right. It’s just one night and he doesn’t know the room I’m staying in. I’ll be gone before he wakes up. I have an early flight.”

“Suit yourself,” Henry began. “Tom can be very determined if he wants something and I believe he wants you.”

As if Tom had heard him, he walked over to the dance floor.

“May I interrupt?

Reluctantly, Henry released Catherine and Tom quickly drew her to him and held her tight against his body. She could feel him touching her and as they danced, she could feel the protrusion in his pants letting her know what he wanted.

She felt good in his arms the way she used to feel except more womanly, more desirable he thought. The flood of emotions coming back to him to the point where he could barely contain them. He kept looking in her eyes and she turned away, not wanting to see them. Those eyes had lingered in her thoughts for years after he left. Eventually, she had managed to keep her feelings tucked away in a small corner of her heart and here he was chipping away until he found them. It wasn’t fair.

“Listen Tom,” she began. “We should probably stop this before it goes any further.”

“Stop what?” Tom looked shocked. A look that Catherine had seen before when he would lie to her about seeing other girls.

“Stop the bull shit,” she said flatly. “I’m not a kid anymore. I know what you’re thinking.”

“Really,” Tom said as he pushed himself into her. You know me that well?”

“Yes,” she said quickly.

“What if I told you that I never stopped thinking about you and wondered what happened to you and whether I should have stayed?”

“I would have said that you were a liar with no thought or consciousness of me whatsoever.”

“That’s harsh criticism,” he replied soberly.

“It’s the truth Tom.”

“I don’t think you know me as well as you think you do.”

“Maybe not, but I’m not willing to find out either.”

“So you’ve locked the door to me,” he said slyly.

“I believe so,” she said.

“What if I told you that I still have the key,” he said.

Catherine tensed. She was vulnerable to him once and he had known all her secrets and desires. That was years ago and she had grown. They weren’t the same desires as she once had. There was so much more to her now that he didn’t understand.

The music stopped and she pulled away from him.

“Do you want to dance again?” he asked.

“No, Tom. It’s getting late and I’m tired. I have an early flight in the morning. I’m going to call it a night.”

“At least let me walk you to your room,” he said tugging at her arm.

“That probably wouldn’t be a good idea,” she answered.

Catherine walked towards the table where she had been sitting, grabbed her purse and headed out the door with Tom watching her leave. His heart was pounding as she left as if part of him was leaving and wasn’t coming back. He waited a few moments then left the restaurant and headed to the motel lobby and front desk where an older tired woman looked up at him.

“I’d like the room number for one of your guests. Catherine Gordon,” he smiled at her.

She heaved a sigh, “The lady told me she pendik escort didn’t want me to give it out.”

“Very noble of you. Would fifty bucks change your mind?”

Her face brightened, “Hell, for that kind of money you can have the key to my room,” she laughed.

“Just Miss Gordon’s room,” Tom said as he slipped a fifty dollar bill on the counter.

“Room 127. Down the hall and to the left,” the woman said snatching the fifty dollar bill and stuffing it in her pocket.

“Thank you,” said Tom and left.

The motel was a modest one with newly painted walls, carpeting that looked like it had jumped out the 70s and muted lights to help the traveler find his room. A standard for Tom and his many business travels. Most were clean and respectable with good service and provided the traveler what he needed. When he reached room 127, he stopped to assure himself this is what he wanted before he knocked.

“Room service,” came a muffled voice.

“I didn’t order……” her voice trailed when she opened the door. There she stood with a pink robe wrapped tightly around her and Tom smiling at her. She went to shut the door, but Tom pushed it opened and entered closing the door behind him.

“You need to go,” Catherine said her voice quivering.

“I can’t. I won’t.”

“Tom, this isn’t good for either one of us.”

“I think it’s the best thing that could happen to us. We both need this.”

He came closer. His eyes grilled on hers. He remembered her. The way a man remembers a woman who had a piece of his heart. The familiarity more enticing because he knew what she was like inside and out and how he missed it. Catherine’s breath came in short spurts as she held her robe close to her.

“It’ll be like old times,” he said softly as he pushed the hair away from her neck and kissed it gently causing Catherine to shutter.

“Tom, please stop,” she begged.

It only pushed him further. He kissed her neck again and pulled her close. The smell of her skin intoxicating him. He remembered that smell. It was like an erotic perfume that he couldn’t resist. He slipped his arms around her and his lips moved from her neck to her lips. Her lips were full, luscious and hot to the touch and he buried his against hers tasting finally parting them to plunge his tongue inside of her mouth. He wanted more. He desired her more. He needed to be wanted and desired like she did so many years ago. He ached for her to return to him.

Catherine fought his touch and fought the memories that came uncontrollably rushing back. He had cast his spell on her like he had so many years ago. The desire and need for him was screaming at her to surrender and she had no control over them. Her arms wrapped around his waist as he ran his fingers through her hair.

He had missed her. He had missed the one woman who loved him unconditionally and wanted him. He had searched for it over and over again to no avail. Now with Catherine, his Kate, he was home. He opened her bathrobe to expose the sensuous body of a woman. No longer were the subtle softness of a young woman, but the defined curves of a woman who was mature and filled with pent up desire. He slid his hands under the robe to touch her body. It was warm, almost hot, as he ran his hands down her back and cupped her ass cheeks with both hands. He could barely contain himself as he swept his hands up her waist to the well-rounded mounds that when kneaded caused her nipples to harden in his palms. He pulled her hand to the bulge in his pants that pressed against the fabric.

“See what you do to me,” he whispered in her ear. “You don’t want that to go to waste, do you?”

She wanted to say no to him. Everything in her mind told her to say no, to pull away from him, but it was too late when his fingers slid down her thigh and he tugged at the soft curls of her pussy. She was lost.

“Still natural,” he sighed. “Just the way I like it.”

She went to speak, a fruitless attempt to stop him until he slid the bathrobe off her shoulders ataşehir escort and it fell to floor exposing her entire body to him.

“Beautiful,” he sighed as he led her to the bed and lay her on it then undressed himself still gazing at the creaminess of her skin and the way her hair lay around her head on the pillow. The head of his cock dripping with precum as he knelt over her.

She could feel his heat of his desire drawing her into him begging for more. She couldn’t resist. Her thoughts of rationale gone. He had her and he knew it. He leaned over her and kissed her lips again. This time she wrapped her arms around his neck as he lowered himself onto her. His cock hovering over her pussy.

“I want all of you,” he whispered hoarsely. “I want your mind, your body, your need for me to fuck you.”

He kissed her again and her legs parted for him. His cock throbbed with anticipation as the head of it rubbed against her pussy lips tantalizing him. Slowly he slid through her opening and moaned when he entered her and was greeted by the swollen wet folds of her desire. Deeper he pushed then retracted only to push inside of her again and again. Her hips rising and lowering to each of his thrusts.

“It feels good to be in you again,” he said as he looked into her eyes and pumped her.

Catherine had all she good do to keep her wits about her. It was so long she had wanted him. Years of waiting for him to come back. Now he was here in her pussy. His cock exploring her every wet swollen fold.

“Do you remember my cock inside of you,” he smiled.

All she could do was nod. There were no words to express how she felt.

“I’m not going to cum just yet,” he said smiling at her. “Not yet until I get my fill of you. Roll over on your stomach.”

Slowly he pulled out of her and helped her roll over onto her stomach then pulled her up until she was on her hands and knees. Her wet pussy raised to him. He moaned again as he leaned down and licked her pussy and tasted the juices that she offered him. She quivered at his touch and held her breath. His tongued slid inside of her pussy rubbing his face into her sweet spot.

“You taste so damn good,” he said.

“Give me more,” she whispered to him.

“Glad to oblige”, he said as he inserted his finger into her pussy and pumped it inside of her before removing it and sliding it up to her ass and pushed gently into her hole. At first she winced as his finger slid into her ass. Soon it loosened and she began to gyrate with the pressure.

“You always liked it when I fingered your ass,” he said as he slid his cock into her pussy. “Like two cocks at once,” he grinned.

He pulled out his finger and reached underneath her and rubbed her clit that was swollen and jumped at his touch while his cock pulsating in her pussy. The veins of his cock protruding wanting release.

“I’ve got to cum,” he growled. “Are you ready?”

She nodded yes. Her own orgasm on the brink of explosion. He grabbed her hips and began to rock his cock inside her. Back and forth. His balls tightening as they slapped her ass. His thighs tense as he pushed deep inside her. He slapped her ass cheek and she moaned with pleasure. His cock dripping with her juices over his balls as he grunted when he thrusted. He could feel the cum begin to rise as he pushed harder pounding her pussy until he grabbed her hips tightly and plummeted into her.

“I’m going to cum,” he said.

“Do it,” she moaned as her own orgasm was ready to burst. “I need it now!”

He pumped her again and again until his cum shot through the head of his cock and exploded inside her. The first pump spurting his hot cream only to be followed by a second stream just as intense. He moaned as her pussy gyrated on his cock, slithered up and down on his shaft until she clench his cock with her pussy and spurted her own orgasm over him.

“I can feel you cum,” he said between gritted teeth as the last wave of his orgasm and hers shattered through their bodies. Waves and waves of orgasmic ecstasy filling them until moments later, both exhausted, he pulled out her and lay next to her where he drew her into his arms spooning her as they fell into a deep sleep.

Hours passed. Now whether Catherine woke up in time for her flight to Philadelphia or Tom went back to New York, no one knows except the desk clerk who had fifty bucks in her pocket and wasn’t telling.

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THIRTY-THREE

Back at the office on Monday, Sophia received confirmation of her elevation to CFO with effect from 15 October, a little less than three months away. For one reason or another, Peter and she had been late sorting out their summer holiday and Ollie in particular had started bugging them about it, as his final term of pre-school drew to a close. While he was hell-bent on going on safari in Africa, his parents were thinking of Center Parcs at Longleat, where they could combine fun activities with a visit or two to the safari park. Ollie was at first disdainful of the idea – he wouldn’t get to see any ‘killings’ – but in time he came round to the idea and a week’s break was booked for August. At least the children wouldn’t be losing out; one week there would cost them as much as two weeks in Majorca. That still left them with three weeks at home and Sophia floated the idea of getting in touch with the Ethiopian couple. Reluctant at first, Peter did a quick U-turn when his wife showed him the photo of Nyala.

‘That’s means “antelope”, doesn’t it?’ he said. ‘I wonder if she enjoys the hunt.’

‘Why don’t we invite them over and find out?’

‘Splendid idea.’

So it was arranged for Neberu and Nyala to come down on the following weekend, staying over on Saturday night. Sophia herself gave the guest room a thorough cleaning – removing various items which had found their way into the room through her children’s agency – and gave some thought as to what food she might serve. She was by no means a gourmet chef (she didn’t enjoy cooking much, which didn’t help) and she didn’t want to be fussing about when she could instead be getting to know her visitors. So, in the end, she settled on an Ottolenghi tray bake she had done before to some acclaim and a simple, but very tasty, lemon ricotta cheesecake, which involved no baking and could be made in advance.

The day came and Neberu and Nyala, who had travelled to Euston by train, arrived as planned in the early afternoon so they could all go for a walk in the nearby London Wetlands Centre and see the otters being fed. Thankfully, though breezy and cool, the day was free of rain. The children were fascinated with their guests and Ollie had to be chided for staring at Neberu in particular. He took it all in good part, telling Ollie that back home in Ethiopia he would be the one everyone was staring at. Ollie didn’t quite know how to take this, going into his shell for a while and wondering if he would really enjoy the attention. He decided that he definitely would not, especially if it meant that all the lions and crocodiles would run off, driven away by all the crowds.

Nyala was very impressed that Chloe – though only three – walked with everyone else. Out of the children’s earshot, she remarked on the fact that Peter and Sophia hadn’t brought a stroller along for when she got tired. Peter said that if she got really tired he would carry her on his shoulders, but they found she accepted it as normal to walk because she had been encouraged to do so from an early age. They had plenty of friends who were still pushing their children along at the age of four and they felt it wasn’t much good for either their physical development or their independence.

‘Or for developing inflated opinions about their own importance,’ added Nyala.

‘I guess it’s not a problem where you come from,’ said Peter, starting to monopolise the conversation with Nyala.

‘Women don’t walk down to the river to wash clothes with baby strapped to their back in swaddling these days, you know,’ Nyala responded. ‘We even have electricity now.’

‘Well, I should hope so,’ rejoined Peter. ‘What with all those dams on the Nile.’

‘You’ll have to excuse my husband,’ chipped in Sophia. ‘He spends all his days and most of his weekends with Neanderthals.’

‘Yes, I think Sophia mentioned you worked in the City,’ Nyala said deadpan.

‘None of his friends has read a book for years,’ Sophia added.

‘Jeff likes to carry a copy of the Economist around,’ said Peter.

‘Yes, but when he opens it, it’s invariably the wrong way up,’ said Sophia.

‘When I visited Hong Kong a few years ago,’ Neberu said, in that serious and rather abstracted way of his, ‘I was quite shocked when I saw couples who appeared to be in their fifties wheeling around toddlers. I knew that the birth rate was very low and I supposed the government was offering incentives to couples to have babies, including fertility treatment. It was only when I walked past them that I realised they were using the strollers to transport dogs.’

‘Yes, it’s really weird,’ said Peter. ‘And they dress them up in bow ties, coats and even socks!’

‘I think they want to make the dogs into little humans,’ said Nyala. ‘It is sad because dogs are pack animals and they like to associate with other dogs.’

‘With other humans too,’ said Peter, his hand brushing against Nyala’s as they turned a corner in the park.

‘It is sad when people want to take away what makes a dog a dog,’ said Neberu. ‘But whenever you have humans intervening in a situation, you are liable to lose equilibrium, so great is their desire for dominance.’

‘I kartal escort wouldn’t mind being dominated by your manhood,’ thought Sophia, imagining what lay beneath the lithe African’s tight-fitting jeans.

Their conversation had to be cut short because the children were becoming crotchety through a combination of tiredness, boredom and neglect. They made their way home and Sophia showed her guests to their room and pointed out the bathroom and other facilities they might need. She told them to treat their place as their own and said they should come down to the sitting room when they were ready: they would be eating around eight, after the kids had been put to bed. Nyala took Sophia’s hand to thank her, which sent an electric blot through her body. With Neberu out of the room, she was tempted to push her onto the bed and shove her hand up the light cotton skirt she was wearing, but she pulled herself together and contented herself with a squeeze of the hand and a ‘thank you’.

Sophia put the finishing touches to her (or rather Ottolenghi’s) lasagne and butternut squash cake and popped it in the oven, where it would stay for two hours, and made a cherry tomato, avocado, cucumber and feta salad with a simple red wine vinegar dressing. She then went upstairs and showered, tasking Peter with looking after their guests until she came down. This was a task he was more than happy to perform, especially when he saw Nyala, who had changed into a black mini dress with a plunging V-shaped neckline. The dress was so designed that the material of the first four or five inches of the dress beneath the neckline and running parallel to it was sheer. Peter thought she must be wearing a bra. The straps of the dress were certainly broad enough to accommodate one. He caught himself fantasising about unhooking it when he was wakened from his reverie by what he took to be a glimpse of red panties when she sat down. Tantalisingly, she crossed her legs and, although the dress rode further up her legs, confirmation was impossible – for now.

Upstairs, Sophia was changing into a red flared wool and silk-blend crepe knee-length dress with a high round collar and short sleeves. She had bought it shortly before her Thailand trip and hadn’t worn it before. She was satisfied with the mixture of elegance and subtlety that was reflected back to her in the mirror. She was excited at the prospect of her first time with a black man – and a black woman. Unlike some of her friends, she’d never had fantasies about big black cocks. She wasn’t sure why, now that she thought about it. Mind you, she’d never fantasised about women before Veronique came on the scene. What fantasies had she had as a teenager? She tried to remember. The only one she could think of was older men. She’d fancied two of her teachers and then there was the time when she was at university that she’d spent Christmas Day – or maybe it was Boxing Day – at a friend’s house. She’d started flirting with her friend’s father, touching his arms while talking to him animatedly and then letting her fingers touch his thigh. Nothing had come of this – the flirting was all on her side. It was funny how the memory had suddenly come back to her now.

When Sophia went downstairs, the others were in the sitting room chatting. Peter had put some music on (thankfully, not rap – it was some playlist from Spotify that he’d put together). Neberu and Nyala were on the sofa, with Peter sitting opposite them in the armchair he always liked to use – often with Chloe curled up with him, listening as he read her a book. Sophia took the chair next to Peter – something she only rarely did, as she typically spread herself out on the sofa. She was not surprised to see that Peter had made an effort sartorially. He’d put on his favourite light beige contrast trim Italian T-shirt and a pair of carbon dust slim-fit chinos. Sophia had to admit she found herself staring at him in appreciation – something that didn’t happen that much these days. But her main focus was the lissom Ethiopian.

‘God, I can’t wait to see how well that cheetah is equipped?’ Sophia thought. ‘Does he spring on his prey when they least expect it? Does he stalk them? Maybe he ambushes them? Will he dig his claws into me? Will he drag me back to his lair and eat me?’

Sophia’s attitude towards Nyala was rather more ambivalent. She was dressed like a tart in that ludicrously short dress, those large silver hoop earrings and her ridiculous black leather ballet flats. She had made no attempt to hide the fact that she had set her sights on her (Sophia’s!) husband. She knew that Peter must have a massive hard-on beneath his expensive chinos.

‘I don’t care if she fucks him,’ thought Sophia. ‘Just so long as she doesn’t tell me what a sweet and sensitive man he is.’

Then there was of course the little matter of what Sophia wanted to do with the black slut. Would she get to fuck her first? She wondered what colour her pussy would be. Pink, like everyone else, she imagined. She would love to use a strap-on on her. She would love to sit on her face. She probably wouldn’t mind if the home-wrecking whore used the strap-on on her. ümraniye escort Above all, she would love to wipe that smile off her face. Watch Peter as he watches her fucking what he thinks is his personal plaything. Watch Neberu’s member swell to impossible dimensions as he sits there, a witness to his wife’s being fucked to infinity by a white woman.

‘Time to check our dinner,’ said Sophia.

‘Smells delicious,’ said Nyala, looking not at Sophia but at Peter. ‘I can’t wait to taste it.’

THIRTY-FOUR

Dinner was an unqualified success. Peter had brought some decent bottles of red wine up from the cellar earlier in the afternoon and decanted them, and they complemented the food very nicely. Everyone was feeling a little tipsy when Peter suggested they retire to the sitting room. Ever the gracious host, he offered to take his guests through, but Neberu elected to stay in the kitchen and help Sophia clear the things away. Once they were out of the kitchen, as if acting on a prearranged signal, Peter and Nyala threw themselves at each other – a tangle of hands and tongues and legs. Their mouths locked together, Nyala pushed Peter against the wall, narrowly missing a watercolour, and thrust her hand down his trousers. His groaning was largely silenced by her mouth, as she ran her nails over his taut, aching skin. He responded by reaching for the panties that had been screaming ‘Fuck me!’ at him and yanking them down till they hung untidily on her thighs.

‘Are you wet?’ he whispered in her ear.

‘Try me,’ she replied.

Still kissing her, he moved his hand over her butt cheeks, down her crack, over her bud and onto her puffy lips. Very gently, he eased one finger inside her. She sighed softly. He was in no hurry to move the finger about or to remove it. He just left it there, collecting her juices like a dipper stick accumulating honey. He slowly withdrew his finger, hitched up her panties and led the way into the sitting room, holding her hand.

‘Thank you,’ she breathed.

‘For what?’

‘For what I’m about to receive.’

‘You’re a very well brought up girl.’

‘I went to a convent school.’

‘How about you show me your gratitude?’

Peter lay the petite woman down on the sofa. Her skirt had ridden up her legs and he could see her scarlet panties. He didn’t see much use for the skirt and asked her to stand up.

‘Sorry for mucking you about like this.’

‘That’s okay.’

He unzipped her and pulled the dress down. It slipped off easily enough, revealing a red bra to match her panties.

‘I like your shoes.’

‘Thank you. Shall I keep them on?’

‘I want to see your feet.’

He lifted her feet, slipped the feathery shoes off and kissed her painted toes. From his kneeling position, he had a good view of her toned body.

‘You work out, don’t you?’

‘Sometimes. And you?’

‘I hate the gym. I prefer golf.’

She laughed.

‘Have you got anything else you would like to show me?’

‘It depends on what you like.’

‘Well, I’m partial to pomegranates.’

‘You’re in luck. They’re in season.’

‘Ripe?’

‘Why don’t you try them?’

Peter stood up, towering over the Ethiopian, and pressed himself against her so that she could feel the effect she was having on him. She evidently approved, as she unzipped his trousers and let gravity do its thing. Next, she got him to raise his arms and took his T-shirt off. His penis strained against his shorts, desperate to find an escape route. Reaching behind her back, she undid her bra and let it fall to the carpet.

‘Should we put something on the sofa?’ she asked. ‘It may get a bit messy.’

This proved to be the tipping point for Peter. Up to now he had, more or less, been in control. Now, though, he completely lost it. He all but ripped off her panties and threw her onto the sofa. He marvelled at her body stretched out before him, his eyes drawn to the triangle of dark hair at her centre. She reached out and touched his penis through the fabric of his shorts, causing him to spasm and almost lose his balance. Tearing them off, he lowered himself onto her with obvious urgency.

‘I am almost there,’ he said. ‘Can I empty myself inside you?’

‘That is what I want,’ she replied.

She took his tool in her hand and guided him into her, all the while looking at him with desire and affection. It was too much for him. Using his hands to give him greater leverage, he began to pump her, starting as slowly as he could manage given the circumstances, then building up until he lost all control. Nyala wasn’t able to accompany Peter on his paradisiacal journey on this occasion, but she wasn’t too upset. She knew there would be plenty more opportunities before the night was out.

Peter’s shouts could be heard in the kitchen, where Sophia and Neberu had finished loading the dishwasher and were about to find a novel use for the central worktop area. A little anxious about how Neberu would be feeling about his wife receiving such close attention from Peter, Sophia suggested they join the others in the sitting room. The Ethiopian seemed genuinely kadıköy escort surprised by the suggestion.

‘She has been like a leopardess on heat since she got here,’ said the Ethiopian. ‘Let him try his best to satisfy her.’

Sophia wasn’t quite sure what to make of this. On the one hand, he was clearly cool with Peter having his wicked way with his wife, but, on the other, there seemed to be an insinuation that Nyala was more sexually adventurous than other women – than her, Sophia, in particular – and she didn’t appreciate that at all. Rather than tell him how insatiable she herself was, she thought it more prudent and more effective to show him. She thought she would try the oldest line in the book. Every single member of the male sex, whether black or white, old or young, rich or poor, loved to be flattered.

‘So is it really true what they say about black men?’

Rather than answer her in words, or indeed unleash his spear for inspection, he drew Sophia towards him and kissed her passionately. Sophia marvelled at his tongue, which spiralled like a bit on a drill down her throat. She tried to match his pace and his technique but knew she would need a lot more practice before she was sufficiently proficient. So, she contented herself with responding to his lead as best she could, rather as she did at an advanced yoga lesson. The main thing was he didn’t seem unduly bothered by her awkwardness and, most importantly of all, his spear was bulging against his jeans. Sophia considered letting it out, but decided on balance that she would prefer him to take the initiative. Men liked that too.

‘I have admired your dress all evening,’ said Neberu, giving his tongue a rest from its labours. ‘It is like a dress worn by a princess: modest and becoming a lady of your breeding and of your standing.’

‘I thank you,’ replied Sophia with all the grace she could muster. ‘I wear it today for the first time for you.’

‘Good,’ said the African. ‘That is how it should be. Do you have a hanger on which I might place it once it has been removed from your body?’

‘Wow!’ thought Sophia. ‘A neatness freak. He has so much he could teach Peter.’

‘Um, not in the kitchen, but we could perhaps place it on the back of one of the chairs.’

‘Very good.’

He reached round for the zipper and pulled it down in one easy movement. He helped Sophia out of it as if he were a shop assistant, making sure that no part of it touched the floor. Sophia, bare footed, was left standing there in her bra and panties, as he walked to the kitchen table and placed the dress neatly over one of the chairs.

‘I will now place you on the marble top. Would you like me to put a tea towel down so you won’t be chilled?’

‘No, that’s fine, absolutely fine.’

‘First, perhaps, I remove your brassiere and your drawers.’

It was all Sophia could do not to laugh. But these Africans, she knew, were very proud. You laugh at them and they are likely to leave you – with just your brassiere and your drawers for company.

‘That would be very kind of you,’ she replied with the straightest face she could manage.

He made short work of the bra, but, before he moved on to the panties, he was back at the table draping the garment around a second chair. When he returned, he smiled at her.

‘Now I will uncover your modesty.’

Sophia nodded in response, rather more manically than she intended, but then she was struggling mightily against an incipient bout of hysterics. He bent to remove them, lifting each foot in turn to make sure they didn’t come into contact with anything more unclean than a kitchen chair. With no hint of ungentlemanly conduct, such as a quick sniff, he placed the flimsy item on the back of the third of the four chairs.

‘Thank goodness I wasn’t wearing more gear,’ thought Sophia. ‘We’d have had to go out into the garden to get the patio chairs.’

Placing a hand on each of her hips, he easily hoisted her into position on the marble top.

‘If you would please move a little nearer to the edge,’ he said, like a photographer giving instructions to a client in his studio.

As she shifted forward, Sophia felt herself leaving a trail like a snail. Whatever the merits or otherwise of the Ethiopian’s prose style, there could be no doubting the effect it was having on her libido. Sophia found herself waiting for him to say, like the character in ‘Ello ‘Ello, ‘I will say this only once.’ Instead, he told her that he would now start kissing her breasts in order to ‘activate the sexual aqueduct’ that ran from those organs to her vagina. Sophia braced herself for the experience, while having to bite her lip once more, when she found herself distracted by his shirt. It was a light blue shirt with large garish red buttons up the front and two more on each of the two chest pockets. It also had red stitching and wide lapels. If genuine 1970s schlock (and Sophia was afraid that it might be), it was the sort of thing that sold for shedloads on eBay. Her musings on the phenomenon of online auction sites were cut short when he got to work on her mammary glands, which work she had to admit he performed in an extremely deft manner, using that spiralling tongue of his to maximum effect. By the time he had reached his ultimate goal, she was ready to climax. They say the journey is more important than the destination, and, although Neberu may have taken that adage a little too literally, there was no doubt that his idiosyncratic version of foreplay had a lot going for it.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I sit in my last class of my second semester, once again catching myself daydreaming. I know I should be paying attention, I need a better mark in this class, but I just don’t enjoy it. It’s boring. I like most of my classes but this one just doesn’t interest me.

Just like the last date I went on. He seemed nice, but he didn’t stop staring at my tits and yet had nothing of interest to say. 2 hours of small talk without so much as a flirt or a joke, and when we went our separate ways after, he actually shook my hand. Sure, he was staring at my breasts when he did it, but we both knew we wouldn’t be seeing each other again.

Okay, stop. Focus. You need to pay attention. Look at the professor. He seems to know his stuff, maybe if you watch how he delivers it you can find some kind of interesting facts…

Wow, how did I not notice how sexy he was before? I guess I just learned to zone out in every class, but damn. Tall, solid build, strong, and when he talks he gestures a lot with his hands. Hands that I can imagine on me…

Fuck, I need to get laid. I shift in my seat, letting my legs part slightly, instantly feeling relief after sitting so tensely. I idly flick my pen back and forth, thankful I chose this seat near the front where no one can see what my hands are doing. Did I just flick my pen across my nipple? Oh, I need this.

My other hand drops casually to my side, but slides sweetly across my thigh, under the desk and pushes the hem of my skirt higher so I can dip my fingers underneath. I want to rub my pussy so bad. I don’t want anyone to know, but I didn’t wear panties today and I’m SO glad I made that choice.

Luckily the table is more of a lower desk height and I’m sitting along one edge so no one knows that my skirt has been pulled up and my fingertip is slowly circling my pussy lips, knowing they’ll be wet soon.

This is way better than listening to some lecture. I could probably cum right here and no one would know. Feeling brave, I slowly drag my fingertip across my clit, feeling the rush of breath as my body responds to the hand it knows so well. Fuck, I need to cum so bad!

Suddenly I’m jolted out of my self pleasure by the sense of someone staring at me. Oh shit, it’s the professor. He knelt down to pick up the marker he dropped and got a complete eyeful of my hand in my pussy. I quickly shift my legs and let my skirt drop back into place, but I know he’s seen it all.

Suddenly he’s striding across the room towards my seat, not missing a beat in whatever topic he was on. He finishes his point, then leans forward over my notes, pretending to assist with something I wrote and drops his voice “I see my material isn’t interesting enough for you. I’ll see you after class.” My face is pink with embarrassment, or is that arousal? His whispered voice did something to me, I want to hear it again.

Is it just me or does he have a bulge in his jeans as he resumes speaking?

I have no idea what the last 10 minutes of the class were about, although I tried. The professor didn’t even look my way for the rest of the class, and he spent most of it perched on the corner of his desk with his back slightly towards me. Why does that make me feel jealous and left out?

Finally the end of the day arrives. As he casually dismisses the class and reminds us that it’s a long weekend so no class on Monday, he meets my eye and tilts his head ever so slightly in a beckoning way. I know I need to approach him.

I gather up my things and slowly walk towards his desk, my heeled boots softly tapping on the floor. Usually a handful of students stick around (now that I think about it, it’s almost always women) to chat with him and I’m hoping that’s the case so I can buy time to think of what I’m going to say, but of course today everyone is eager to get their weekend started and before I know it, it’s just the 2 of us in the room.

He busies himself by erasing the white board of notes, and I take a deep breath and edge slightly closer to him.

“I’m sorry for not paying better attention in your class.”

When the first words leave my mouth, he seems to tense up slightly, like what I’ve said bothers him more than he wants to let on.

He pauses what he’s doing then softly replies “I know this class isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but you show up, always sit near the front, and act like you want to be here. I know you’re smart, you don’t seem like the kind who will fuck away her college education. Am I wrong?”

When he mentions the word fuck, I feel a rush of pink cover my cheeks. This time it’s definitely embarrassing, I feel like me being in this class means something to him. I feel his blue eyes waiting on my face, searching for an answer.

“I want to be here, I really do.”

With a soft sigh, I lean against the edge of his desk, placing my books beside me. I know what I have to say, I feel almost ashamed to say it though. Keeping my eyes on my skirt covered knees, I say what I think he wants to hear:

“I know I didn’t respect you or your time today, and that was wrong. I’m struggling with a lot mahmutbey escort of things right now, and I guess I got bored and tried to entertain myself instead. It was wrong and I know that.”

Silence.

I don’t hear him at the white board anymore. I don’t hear him at all. Glancing up, I turn to see if he’s behind his desk, but movement on the other side of the room catches my eye. Somehow, he stepped quietly over to the classroom door and pulled it shut without a sound. He makes sure it’s locked, then takes a few long strides back to where I sit on his desk and stands just far enough away from me to maintain proprietary teacher protocol, but again I can feel his eyes on my face.

“Trying to keep a college balance of academics and a love life is par for the course for most people I see here, and forgive me for saying so, but you don’t seem to be in the same world as most people. You seem older, in a good way of course.”

I meet his eyes and can’t believe how kind they are. They’re a deep blue, and I feel like they know me somehow already.

“You’re right, I started college later than most people, but I can hold my own against the 20 year olds, I’ll have you know.” I reply with a smile.

I’m guessing he’s in his late 30s or early 40s, so he probably knows a thing or two about the 20 somethings coming on to him.

“Is that right? I suppose I saw that side of you earlier. There is still the issue of blatant disregard for the code of student conduct in my class. Even if you want to be here and you do your best, I cannot ignore what you did today.”

Interesting choice of words. He cannot ignore it. Suddenly, neither can I. Feeling naughty, I meet his eye and ask

“You cannot ignore it, or you don’t want it?”

He blinks at me. I slowly slide one hand down my skirt covered thigh, not risking anything other than making him notice my movement. He clears his throat. “Well, I’ll have you know that I expect… um… “

His words drift off as his eyes travel down my body, perched on his desk, with my hand resting lightly on my inner thigh.

“Sir? Did you like it?” I lean forward slightly, thankful I wore my best bra today, shifting my tits towards him.

He blinks again, suddenly shakes his head and without warning is standing so close to me I can feel the warmth from his body and smell a hint of cologne.

“It doesn’t matter if I liked it or not. You are my student and any activity in my class that happens without my permission is not acceptable.” His eyes are darker now, and I can sense his breath has quickened slightly.

At the words ‘my permission’ I feel a butterfly-like feeling right in my midsection and I subconsciously make a slight gasp of breath. I’m starting to feel all kinds of lust for this man, my professor. I probably shouldn’t, but it’s been so long since I had a man be in command of my body that I just don’t care. I want him. Now.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I was out of line.” I drop my head demurely, both of us fully aware I’m not sorry or demure at this exact moment. I can feel my pussy getting wet.

He closes the already short distance between us by leaning right into me. His legs are pressing into mine, and I’m nervously excited for what’s about to happen. He lifts my chin with one finger, brings my eyes up to his, and growls “Yes you were, acting like a little slut in my class. I need to discipline you.”

Then his breath is softer, kinder, as he just barely whispers “The door is locked, if there’s anything that goes too far just say the name of your hometown.”

I manage a barely noticeable nod and his hand slides across my neck, into my hair, where his fingers grab as much of it as he can.

“Are you going to be a good girl and let me punish you?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Fuck yes, sir. You will call me sir whenever you want my attention, otherwise I don’t have to even notice you’re in the room. Understand, my pretty slut?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl.”

He releases my hair and strokes my cheek. “Kneel.”

I slide down to the floor without a word.

“Very nice. You listen well, slut.”

I look up at him standing above me. I’m definitely not imagining the bulge in his jeans now.

He crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I want to make one thing clear. We both know you could do better in this class. Submitting yourself to me means you aren’t just going to give me your body. Going forward, I expect your mind here too. I want you to step up your work, your attention, and your assignments. I promise, it will be worth it.”

“Yes sir.” My reply is soft but I mean it.

“Good. You can stand up, if you’d like. I don’t need you to kneel, you have free will.”

I raise my eyes to meet him and tilt my chin up.

“Sir, with all due respect, submitting to you is my choice. Just like I chose to play with my wet pussy in the middle of your lecture, I’m choosing to follow your commands and you are allowed to make me yours, however you wish. I am choosing to be punished.” I lowered my eyes after sultangazi escort speaking so he knows I am serious.

I now know why I can’t enjoy the guys I find on dating apps. They’re all immature and would have no idea what to do with a naked woman if she magically appeared in their bed. I need a man, a grown man, with experience and the ability to take charge.

“Very well. Stand, please.”

His mixture of commands with the edge of politeness makes my knees shake as I rise up to meet him.

“I’ve wanted to taste those lips since the first minute I laid eyes on them. I told myself it was wrong to want that, but after your little stunt today, I believe this was meant to happen.”

Before I am able to answer, he leans into me once again, cupping my jaw with his hand and pressing his lips to mine.His tongue is in my mouth almost immediately, and the electricity of this kiss throws me for a loop. I knew I would feel him wanting me, but there’s a softness there, something almost vulnerable, that he would risk his career to kiss me here in the lecture hall, where anyone could find us, record us on their phone, and half the world would know before we did that we got caught. This mixture of dominance and softness in him somehow makes me want him more. I press my body into his, my hands sliding around his neck, one playing with his hair. He hums his appreciation of my touch into my mouth, his tongue sliding around mine with more intensity. He presses his body into mine, wrapping his surprisingly strong arms around my waist and sliding his hands over me. Even though he hasn’t touched my skin yet, I can feel the heat of his hands through my clothes and I really want to feel what it feels like to be pressed against each other with nothing in between us.

Wanting to make the next move, I break our kiss, and he sighs softly as he presses his forehead into mine. I catch my breath enough to whisper

“Sir, I’m very sorry that I was bad in class today. I want to make it up to you. I want to show you what would have happened if you hadn’t caught me.”

His eyes flash again and that look of strong authority takes over his face.

“You think so, slut? You think you will be able to perform for me and make it all better? That’s not going to happen. You need to be punished and a punishment is what you are going to get. Stand here and do not move.”

He leaves me standing just ahead of his desk, with my back to the seats in the classroom. He walks behind his desk again, opening a drawer. He looks up at me again.

“Turn and face away from me, please.”

I immediately do so, taking a deep breath. I’m listening for sounds that would give away what he’s doing, but all I hear is the opening and closing of drawers.

He walks in front of me, standing just close enough to touch me, but not doing so. He raises a hand to my cheek, cupping my face and letting his fingers trail down my neck, softly sliding across my collarbone.

“Your skin is so soft.” He says kindly. I feel his breath on my face, the touch of his fingertips, and my pulse quickens.

“Rule one: sounds.” he continues. “You are not to speak unless you are answering my questions or following a command. You are permitted to make any sounds you wish, however you are not permitted to ask me to stop, unless it is the word we already discussed.”

I nod.

“Rule two: discretion. You will not mention what is happening here to anyone. When it is over, you will leave and I will stay here, leaving on my own time. If necessary, I will be able to create an alibi that will protect us both should word get out, but you must agree that what happens here, while mutually consensual, remains a complete secret. I have put my phone away, and I trust you will or have done the same. There will be no record of today except in our heads.”

I nod again.

“Rule three: recurrence. Should you ignore the lessons you will learn today and decide to tempt yourself again by being a slut in my class, I will not respond and will be forced to report you to the school authorities. You will not take advantage of me. Understand?”

My third nod is immediate. My heart is pounding, my head swirling. He’s so confident, so in charge, it’s making me weak with desire. I want to submit to his every will.

His strong hands come to rest on either side of my hips, and he pushes me backward, until I have bumped into the edge of his desk.

“You’re going to take all of your clothes off now, slut.” A wicked grin crosses his face. “And you’re going to tell me every step of what you’re doing, and how you’d like me to use what lies beneath.”

He lets his hands drop to his side, and steps back to watch me. “You may start whenever you’re ready.”

I assess my outfit, deciding what would be the best order of removal for each piece. I have on a short flared skirt, a tank top, and a button up cardigan. I chose a push up bra today, but as he already knows, no panties.

I decide to start with my footwear. Turning myself to the side, I avcılar escort bend at the waist and slide my hands down my legs, all while keeping eye contact with him. I see his eyes quickly glance at how my ass looks in the skirt as I’m bent over, and as my hand reaches my calf, I slide it back up and around and caress myself. He smiles in appreciation. I lift the back of my skirt and pull it up, exposing my bare ass, and caress the skin there again. He takes a deep breath, but before I can describe anything to him, I’ve covered myself again and my hands are heading back down my legs. I reach the top of my ankle high boots, and slide the zipper down of each one.

“Would you like to see my pretty feet, sir?”

I slide one foot out of its boot, one at a time. My short pink socks still cover my feet,

“That’s not describing how you want to be used, but I’ll allow it. Continue.” He replies bluntly.

I want to take a risk. I step forward to him while still in my socks, and sit down right at his feet. I lie back then raise both my feet in the air, sliding them up his legs. My skirt falls down around my hips, of course, and he can see everything. I pretend nothing has changed, and bending one knee, I grab my sock and pull it off.

“I’d like you to suck on my toes, sir. These pretty feet need attention just like the rest of me.”

I repeat the same action with the other leg to remove my sock. He’s tall enough that my feet barely come to his hips, but I make sure to slide both feet over the front of his jeans as I bring them back down and wrap them around his legs. He’s looking down at me appreciatively, I think the idea of sucking on my toes excites him just as much as it excites me.

I slide my hands over my thighs, towards my knees and back.

“I want to wrap these legs around you while you are deep inside me, sir.”

The first mention of us fucking causes him to take a deep breath, and he exhales strongly. I know it’s not the first time he’s thought about that, but the visual I just provided has him even more excited.

I scoot back, letting my skirt fall back down to cover me up, and swing my legs around underneath me. I’m kneeling now, looking up at him. I bring my hands to the buttons of my cardigan, slowly undoing each one while looking up at his face.

“I’d like you to kiss me, here,” I lift my chin and trace my fingers along my jaw. “And here.” My fingers trail down my neck along my collarbone. “Here, too.” I pull the cardigan off my shoulder and touch the edge of my skin. I pull one sleeve of the cardigan off with one hand, then switch and pull off the other and let the rest of the garment fall to my waist.

I raise my arms above my head.

“I’d like to feel you kiss from here,” I bring one hand back to my shoulder.

“To the edge of here.” I slide that hand from my shoulder, up my arm, and let my fingers dance around each other.

“I want to feel what it’s like to have my finger in your mouth, sir.”

He’s looking down at me, watching my every move. He keeps shifting his hands, from his sides, to crossing his arms in front of him. It’s like he doesn’t know what to do with them, because he’d rather be touching me. He let me touch him with my feet, so I decide to go a little bolder. I reach my hands up towards him, and he takes them. I use him to pull myself to standing, now in my tank top and skirt. He lets me thread my fingers through his and I pull myself closer to him. He squeezes my hands, then lets go.

“There will be no more touching, slut. This is a performance for me, not an interaction. Do not make me instigate any more rules. You will regret it.”

I sigh, making him know how disappointed I am with getting caught pushing the limits. Stepping back from him, I slide the shoulders of my tank top off one at a time, but not letting anything below my shoulders show. Without a word, I slide the straps of my bra down my shoulders, shrug out of them and quickly unhook the back of the bra and pull it out of the tank top while keeping the rest of me covered. His eyes widen slightly as he sees my nipples against the fabric of the tank top, and he nods slightly to encourage me to continue.

“You should kiss me,” I whisper as I touch my fingertips to my lips. “And then let your hands play with my hair.” I use my other hand to gather my hair in my hand. With both hands raised, my tits jut out at him, and I arch my back to show them off even more.

He leans back, arms crossed in front of him, grinning down at me. He looks like he’s just about ready to stop this and take me, so I push the limit again, but in a different way.

Without saying anything or looking at him, I stand up, pulling my tank top over my head in one smooth motion, letting my tits finally free. My light pink nipples are hard and round, and when he sees them, he licks his lips. I don’t let him enjoy the view for long though. I unzip and step out of my skirt before he can take another breath. Now I’m completely naked, standing in front of him. I walk in a circle around him, not touching him. He turns to follow me, and as I pass him I grab both my tits and rub my nipples. Before resuming my place in front of him, I stand with my legs apart and slowly slide one hand down one thigh, then pass it over to the other thigh without touching my pussy. When I return to my starting place, I lean forward and press my hands into the edge of his desk, wiggling my ass at him.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Author’s Note: This is a chapter in a multi-part story and is not intended to stand alone. This is my first attempt at writing erotica, so feedback is highly encouraged.

*****

J doesn’t complain when I stay in my sweats and t-shirt. I refuse to dress for Paul’s pleasure. But she takes a firm stand on hair and makeup, insisting that we maintain some minimum standards. I do my best to tame my bed head, still blushing slightly each time I reach for the hairbrush. Meanwhile, J goes to work on my makeup. The eventual effect is flirty, cute and almost wholesome. This seems incongruous with my task for the morning. As we walk out the front door, she hands me a shopping bag. “Packers t-shirt” she states in response to my questioning look.

I drop J off at the coffee shop from yesterday, presumably to retrieve her car. I then make my way to Paul’s apartment, trying to ignore the shame that is forming in the pit of my stomach. “It’s just a blowjob,” I tell myself. “You’ve done this before.” Paul answers the door wearing only a pair of sweatpants of his own, obviously opting not to dress for the occasion either. “Hey babe, fancy meeting you here.”

His smarmy manner is a turn off. His bare, toned chest isn’t. I’m reminded that, aside from James’ awkward fumblings the day before, I haven’t enjoyed a man’s touch in quite some time. And while Paul has a laundry list of faults, too many to name, sexual prowess is not one of them.

I stop myself before my thoughts stray too far down that path and don an expression that I hope portrays unconcerned confidence. I need to reclaim power in this transaction, and fawning like a schoolgirl won’t help. “We have business to attend to.” I say wryly, pushing past him into the apartment.

“You look good,” he says, giving me a once over as we make our way to the living room. I let his gaze linger on me for a moment, silently wishing I had worn something a little more flattering. Whether that’s to shift the balance of power or gain his approval, I’m not certain.

“Thanks. Here’s your shirt.” I toss the bag to him. He acknowledges it with a quick chuckle before depositing the bag on the coffee table, amongst the snacks that are set out for the game.

I want this over with, so I get right down to business. “Let’s agree to terms. I’ll give you one blowjob…”

“To completion,” he interjects with a cocky smile.

I roll my eyes. “One blowjob, to completion. I then watch you delete the pictures and the whole text exchange from your phone.”

“Wait, you’re serious? You’re really here for a blowjob. I thought this whole thing was a joke, like you wanted to get back together or something.” He shakes his head in amusement.

“We are NOT getting back together!” I say a little too forcefully. “So, you’ll delete the pictures?”

“Well now I know you’re willing to blow me for them.” I make a mental note to kill J the next time I see her. I hadn’t even considered that he wasn’t serious, but of course he wasn’t. What woman in her right mind would agree to this? Apparently I would… and did. Am I actually still considering it?

I shake my head to try to clear my thoughts. I tell myself that I came here intending to go through with the bargain, but I know that’s just a rationalization. The truth is that J wants me to play the game, so I’ll play it. So much for ‘in my right mind.’

“Can I trust that you have no other copies of them?”

“Scout’s honor.” He holds up three fingers. I scoff, but have no real choice but to trust him.

“Afterwards, we never speak of the pictures or the blowjob again. The slate is wiped clean, like none of this ever happened.”

“Whatever you say, babe.” I wish he would stop calling me that. It’s way more demeaning than endearing. bayrampaşa escort Did I really find him charming at one point? “One more thing, though.”

“What?” I ask flatly, fixing him with an untrusting stare.

“The Packer’s home opener is in an hour. Wear the shirt.” He nods to the bag on his coffee table. “For good luck.” He flashes me his biggest, shit-eating grin. I want to refuse. I want to tell him to go fuck himself and storm out. I want to knock that fucking grin off his face. But I relent, telling myself that it’s a stupid hill to die on.

“Fine.” I grab the bag and head to the bathroom to get myself ready.

“Thanks, babe. You’re the best!” Ugh!

I hear J’s voice in my head. “You know that you’ll play the game.”

Safe for the moment in the privacy of the restroom, I pull the t-shirt from the bag. Paul is a big guy, well over six feet tall, and his clothes are equally big. I used to wear his t-shirts as a dress around the house. I know he likes the look, so I slide off my sweatpants. I hold up the shirt, and immediately realize that J made some modifications. The neckline is cut into a V-shape, both deep and wide. The sleeves have been removed, leaving large, gaping arm holes. As a final indignity, the seams on the sides of the shirt have long slits rising several inches from the hem. A narrow triangle of material has been removed around each seam, mimicking the neckline and emphasizing the effect.

“Of course” I mutter in resignation as I exchange my own shirt for the remains of Paul’s. There’s no pretending it’s anything but obscene. Any move brings my bra-covered breasts into view. “Tits,” I correct myself. Lisa’s admonitions ring firmly in my mind. No one is tempted by ‘breasts’, they want ‘tits’. I consider the look for a moment and decide to lose the bra. The bolder my display, the more I’ll be able to shift power in my favor. If he wants tits, he’ll get tits.

The seams are cut high enough that the sides of my panties are on display. I’m wearing some of my old, utilitarian panties which seem out of place with the rest of the ‘ensemble’. With a wicked thought, I slide the panties off of my legs as well. In for a penny, in for a pound. Paul’s not going to know what hit him. Holding up the hem of the shirt, I look at my hairless sex. ‘Pussy’ I decide. Or maybe even ‘cunt.’ I run one finger up the length of my slit, gently parting the lips. Moisture starts to form and I shiver in arousal. Definitely ‘cunt.’

I realize that I’ve spent way too long in Paul’s bathroom to change into these tiny scraps of clothing. I neatly fold my discarded outfit and take one last pause to reset my nerves. “Take back the power. Show him what he lost. Make him rue the day.” I repeat J’s words in my mind and step out of the bathroom.

“Took you long eno… Wow!” I smile inwardly as my appearance has the desired effect.

“Miss me?” I challenge as I perform my best catwalk strut over to where Paul waits by the couch. He can’t hide his surprise as his eyes drink in my form.

“What’s all this?” he asks, unable to pull his eyes from my body. My outfit, and my behavior, are shockingly out of character for me. At least, they were 48 hours ago. Standing here like this, anticipating wrapping my lips around my cheating ex-boyfriend’s penis would have been unimaginable a few days ago. It’s amazing how much my frame of reference has shifted in so short a time. Not ‘penis’. ‘Dick’. Or ‘cock’. Lisa would be proud.

“This,” I spread my arms wide to give him an uninterrupted view. The shirt slips off of one shoulder and the neck is cut deep enough to allow my full tit to pop into view. I stand there defiantly, making no move to cover it. “This gaziosmanpaşa escort is what you gave up when you fucked that little tramp.” I do my best to keep the pain out of my voice, not wanting to remind him how much he hurt me. I’m not sure I entirely succeeded.

The jab apparently hit home, as Paul’s voice takes on an edge. “Where was this a few months ago?”

“You didn’t deserve it.” I say flatly. But I know the truth. I didn’t have it in me then.

“And I do now?” He laughs incredulously.

“Now it’s just business.” I fix his stare with mine and promise myself I won’t be the first to look away.

A moment passes and Paul drops his eyes back to my body with a short huff. “Well, I do like your business suit.” Before I can respond, he reaches a hand under the hem of my shirt and cups my mound. His eyes widen as he feels my smooth skin. “Nice” he whispers as one finger slips easily between my folds.

“But not part of the deal.” I push his hand away with more reluctance than I care to admit.

“You’re soaking wet.” He smiles, daring me to deny it. I feel the power shifting back in Paul’s favor. I make a desperate play to get it back.

“What can I say? I get off on watching you squirm.”

He laughs loudly, shattering my confidence. “Squirm? You’re here to suck my dick!” He may as well have slapped my face. I hate him. But I hate myself more. All of the fight drains from me.

“We may as well get to it, then.” I say dejectedly.

I’ve sucked his dick before, several times over the course of our relationship. Blowjobs seem to be a favorite of his. Each time he would have his cock out, hard and ready, before the words were fully spoken. He probably didn’t want me to have a chance to come up with an excuse to bow out. So I watch him, unmoving, waiting for him to pull his cock out, to stroke it hard, to do something. But he just stands there with his hands on his hips, until he finally says “Go right ahead. It’s not going to suck itself.”

I am completely defeated, and Paul is apparently going to do me no favors. He is standing in front of his couch expectantly. I sink to my knees, dragging his pants down as I go. He hadn’t bothered with underwear. He sits on the couch, making himself comfortable as I wrap a numb hand around his semi-erect cock, and stroke it absently. “The deal wasn’t a handjob.” I glare up at him, before taking his hardening dick into my mouth.

I swirl my tongue around the tip a few times and feel it start to come to life. “That’s it, you know how I like it.” I have to remind myself that he wasn’t this much of an asshole when we dated. A few slow bobs of my head along its length and Paul’s member grows to its full size. I pull his dick out of my mouth and run the tip of my tongue along the underside, from balls to tip. “You’re a bastard, you know that?” I hiss before taking him back into my mouth.

“Such language,” he laughs. “Do you kiss your mom with that mouth?” I am awash in humiliation, but manage to press on. I find my rhythm and am rewarded with small grunts of pleasure.

I don’t really like giving blowjobs. I don’t begrudge them too much and I want to give my partners pleasure. But the act itself never turned me on. This one is different. The entire situation seems completely depraved. I’m kneeling, effectively naked, in my ex-boyfriend’s living room wearing an outfit designed to display my body as lewdly as possible. And as he makes degrading comments about me, I’m busy sucking him off. And all of this in an effort to get him to delete pictures of me fucking myself senseless with a hairbrush in a public restroom. I should be petrified with shame. I should be curled up in a ball unable sefaköy escort to face this reality. I should probably be in a fucking institution. Two days ago, I was worried about showing little glimpses of my bra in public. Two days ago, even using this kind of language was unimaginable.

Now, I feel my juices start to run down my leg. My shame is an aphrodisiac. Each insult, each disgusting remark, sends a jolt of electricity straight to my pussy. I remove one hand from Paul’s thigh and tease it along the length of my sex. My cunt. This move does not go unnoticed. “You know, after you suck me off I would be happy to take that freshly shaved pussy for a test drive. I’m sure I’m good for a second round.”

If he wasn’t being this much of a prick, I might have taken him up on it. If he wasn’t being this much of a prick, it wouldn’t have turned me on so much. “Not a chance in hell!” I fire back angrily, removing my hand from my cunt.

“Your loss, babe. But it’s probably for the best. The guys will be here in a few minutes to watch the game. It might be embarrassing for you if you’re bouncing up and down on my dick when they arrive.”

My eyes go wide with panic. A glance at the clock tells me it’s 20 minutes to game time. They could show up any minute! I need this done, NOW. I take Paul’s hand in one of my own and guide it to my exposed tit. He starts to grope and fondle it harshly as I return my hand to his cock. With my other hand, I pull up the hem of the shirt, exposing my dripping cunt to Paul. I hear an appreciative “Ooh” as I start to slide two fingers in and out of my engorged pussy.

I pull Paul’s dick from my mouth and lock eyes with him. I pump him furiously with my hand and conjure the sluttiest voice I can muster. “Cum for me, Paul. Shoot you seed down my throat!”. I plunge his cock back in my mouth as my other hand starts to furiously rub my clit. Paul’s appreciative moans tell me he’s getting close. But I’m racing against the clock, as well as my own impending orgasm.

“Do it! Fill my belly with your cum.” I’m getting desperate. Desperate for Paul to finish. Desperate for my own release. “I need it, Paul. Cum for me.” As I say the words, I feel my orgasm welling up inside me. I try to push it back down, to focus on Paul, but the need is overwhelming. I practically attack him with my mouth while never stopping my relentless assault on my pussy. Paul drops my tit and grabs the sides of my head. I feel him quiver as I pull back to give him one more round of encouragement.

“Use me! Make me your slut! Make me your whore!” I lean forward to take him into my mouth once more, but he holds me in place. As the first rope of his semen hits my forehead, my own orgasm takes hold. I feel a torrent of shame-fueled ecstasy as Paul’s spunk splatters across my face and hair. I take a moment to regain my senses and let go of his deflated member.

“That was awesome!” Paul’s as giddy as a schoolboy. “I haven’t cum that hard in, well… ever!”

“Delete the pictures! NOW!”

“Okay, okay. Keep your pants on, babe.” eyes my naked pussy as he pulls his own pants up and reaches for his phone on the end table.

“Very funny.” I grab a napkin from the coffee table to get the worst of the mess off my face.

“There, all gone. See?” He holds his phone up to show me the screen. I can’t really see as I’m still cleaning his sperm from my eyes, but I don’t press the issue.

Just then, there’s a knock at the door. “Oh no!” Paul giggles, his face a mixture of mock surprise and genuine delight. “Coooomiiing!” He calls out in a sing-song voice, the pun intended. Paul heads to the door, barely able to contain his laughter. I leap to my feet, grab my stack of clothes and am hot on his tail.

Paul opens the door and stands aside so as not to obstruct the view. “Hi, guys! You remember Jules…” I bolt through the doorway, the mockery of an outfit not covering anything of consequence. I shove past the two confused men standing there, and sprint to the parking lot. I hear Paul call out behind me. “What about my Packers shirt?”

So much for reclaiming power.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

A friendship becomes emotional.

This story arose after an episode in the UK room stimulated my memory to recall an incident from my past. In the Lit room a lady called Christine who it appears lives in the Greater Manchester area of England was being mildly harassed by a guy who lived within easy driving distance of that location.

The guy just wouldn’t leave her alone and was obviously hoping to meet her, much to her chagrin and continually pointing out her conditions for chat in her profile.

I privately suggested she should block him but she said she was ok and would just wind him up. Once he finally understood he was getting nowhere Christine and I had a little private chat about the incident and how she had politely dealt with him.

Whilst talking my mind recalled that I had known a Christine from Manchester in my past, they were not the same person. I gave her a précis of what had happened.

In a world a good twenty-five years before I joined Lit I was a single father with three children who were just starting to make their own ways in life. The internet was in its infancy and my computer experience was in using accounting programmes for my occupation.

We did have a home computer mainly that the kids had used for homework and then their university requirements. It was dial up to get on line using a modem with all its ‘bings and squawks’.

I had not formed a relationship while they finished their education and for some reason one day that became the topic of conversation. I was asked if I was going to find myself a ‘lady friend’. I jokingly said I wouldn’t remember how to go about chatting up a lady from the fairer sex.

Their answer was ‘why don’t you get some practice in a ‘chat room’.’

‘What on earth is a chat room’ I asked.

I had never heard of such a thing but I guess they had all gained experience at school and university. They explained the theory to me and guided me to a hosting site called ‘Freeserve.’

Next time I was on my own I set myself up an account and saw that the rooms were split between decades of age. I entered the ’40’s’ as I still qualified to be in that room, before I realised it wasn’t compulsory.

I spent my free time over the next week just watching the conversations in the room and imagining who these people were. I soon was able to identify some personalities if nothing else.

Then one day I noticed a flashing block at the top of my screen. I was unsure, but realised it had the name of a lady who was in the room. I clicked on it to find it had opened fully and minimised the room window. There was a ‘hello’ waiting for me. I quickly typed a reply.

‘I noticed you are a newcomer to our room but you’ve not joined in yet, do you need any help?’

What do I say? Or do I even reply? I had been put on the spot. It was a polite offer I concluded and I ought to reply in the same vein.

‘Hello’ I said ‘sorry for the delay in replying……I wasn’t sure what to say other than hello, but yes you are correct and this is my first ever conversation in a chat room.’

Nothing happened for a moment then she replied. ‘We all had to start somewhere you will soon get the hang of it. Just say hello when you log in and someone will reply. Don’t worry if it takes a while, the response time varies with how many people are chatting.’

‘Thanks for the info’ I replied ‘I may watch for a bit longer.’

‘No problem….bye’ she answered.

Well that wasn’t too hard and I made up my mind to speak the next time I was on. Over the next few weeks I got used to chatting with a lot of different people, mostly in the main room but a few private chats as well. Nothing like Literotica.

The lady who had offered to help me contacted me again shortly after that and told me they were having a ‘chat meet’ in my area of the country in the near future and would I be interested in coming along.

I had to get her to explain what it was and found out it was a social gathering at a hotel with usually a meal and disco on the Saturday night. I told her I would get back to her as I would need to think about it.

I spent several days wondering if it was something I really wanted to do. Meeting with a completely unknown group of people, at least unknown in real life. In the end I concluded I may as well take the risk and it was only an hour and a half’s drive from home.

The hotel was in a small seaside town called Burnham. It was smaller than I expected but seemed pleasant enough as hotels go. I had booked a single room by phone and it was mid afternoon when I arrived.

I got myself settled in and then wandered down to the bar. There were about thirty people sat chatting around a group of small tables that occupied a corner of the room and a few more stood or sat on stools by the bar. The mix was slightly more females than males and it was one of those strange situations when you know most of them are watching you as you approach the bar.

I took an empty stool and when the bartender was free I şirinevler escort ordered a beer and casually glanced around at the other occupants who mostly had returned to their chatting.

After a while I realised a lady in the far corner was looking at me and as I looked back she stood and, weaving her way through the tables, approached me.

‘Hello’ she said in a pleasant voice ‘are you here for the chat meet.’

‘Yes’ I replied ‘but it is my first time and I obviously don’t know anyone so was sat wondering who else was here.’

She asked me my room handle.

‘Alanc……..’ I replied.

She smiled ‘Yes we have spoken…..I arranged this meeting and everyone sat around the tables is in our group, come on over and I’ll introduce you.’

She ‘shhhhd’ the conversations and duly introduced me to a chorus of ‘Hi’s and hello’s’ and a group at one table beckoned me over pulling up another chair for me.

I introduced myself again and recognised the handles that some of them were using but by no means all of them. Some of them had met several times and for others, like me, it was their first get-together. It was surprising how easy it was to fit in.

I had an enjoyable weekend, nice conversations, and everyone seemed to be perfectly normal people. At least I had gained an insight to peoples real lives. I got on well with one lady who I talked to often in the room but there was nothing untoward happening. She did teach me a line dance to ‘Uptown girl’ by Billy Joel.

Over the next few months I got to chat with more people and one in particular took my attention. We seemed to hit it off when ever chatting together. She told me privately that her name was Chris……but she used the handle ‘Shirley V…’. Those of you of a certain maturity, perhaps others as well, would remember the film of that name that was located in the Islands of Greece.

My next ‘chat meet’ was in Birmingham and there were over 100 people again with a 50/50ish mix of genders. I travelled up on the Friday and had an early drink with others who had arrived. I had arranged to spend the evening out though as ‘The Eagles’ were playing at the National Indoor Arena, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see one of my favourite bands.

I was late back to the hotel but there were a lot of people still chatting in the bars although the music and dancing had finished. From the gossip it became obvious that quite a few people had paired up and ‘disappeared’. It was the first time that I was really aware of chatters having sexual relationships.

On the Saturday more people arrived and that evening was quite lively with a lot of dancing. I made friends with a group of ladies from Manchester who allegedly had been asking about me. We got to know each other better, mixing dancing with a lot of chat. It turned out that they knew Shirley V… and had been asked to give me the once over. They didn’t elaborate about the request but they were great fun to be with.

It was more obvious to me on this night that some people had paired up and left the room early but I stayed till the end and had a few goodnight hugs before the night ended.

The next meet was in Rotherham just outside of Sheffield. I had taken the Friday off of work as it was a long drive from home and it was mid afternoon when I arrived. The Hotel had a large bar/ballroom area and there were already about 50 people gathered. I booked in and took my gear to my room before joining them.

Some of the Manchester girls were there and I joined their table after getting a beer and spent the next hour chatting and occasionally dancing to the house disco.

At one point one of the girls turned to me and said ‘she’s coming to this meet…did she tell you?’

I gave her a puzzled look…not knowing who or what she was referring to. She giggled out loud and turning to her friends almost shouted out ‘he doesn’t know.’

There was an outbreak of raucous laughter and whispering between them before she turned back to me. ‘Chris…um…um…. I mean Shirley will be here a little bit later……did she not tell you she was coming?’ There was no doubting the innuendo in her emphasis on the last word as they all started giggling again.

The subject of conversation was quickly changed and after a while we ended up dancing in a group.

It was perhaps fifteen minutes after we had got onto the floor that I realised something was up as the ladies dancing in front of me began smiling and tapping each other on the arms and paused their dancing.

As I looked at them puzzled I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to be confronted by a very pretty lady who I didn’t recognise. For a short moment we both looked at each other and my mind was racing as I took in her features.

She was about my height, 5′ 8”, average build with a bob cut of straight blonde hair blue eyes and a lovely smile. She was wearing a cotton knee length dress with a small flower pattern. In esenler escort one word ‘smart’ my brain concluded.

‘Hi’ I said.

‘Hello’ she replied.

We both smiled as our accents made it blatantly obvious we came from different ends of the country.

She looked over my shoulder at her friends who were waiting to see what was going to happen.

‘I’m Alan and I’m guessing from the mumbling behind my back you must be Chris.’

‘Yes’ she answered as we both reached our hands out to shake then forgetting formalities we hugged each other.

‘Shall we go and get a drink of some sort and leave the gossipers to themselves for a moment?’

‘That sounds a good idea I’d love a coffee at the moment.’ We wandered over to the bar and then grabbed an empty table in the corner of the room. We sat and chatted for a while expanding on the information we already knew about each other.

As time moved on we decided we would like to continue our chat privately and agreed to go for dinner in an Indian restaurant a few hundred yards down the road. We told her friends our plans with a hint that we wanted to be alone before we went to our rooms to freshen up.

When I was ready I went back to the ground floor and was chatting with a few others that I knew who had arrived and were at the bar. I saw heads turn, and turned around myself to see what had attracted their attention.

I smiled inwardly. Chris was walking down the stairs having changed into a stunning blood red dress and matching top. The conversation around me had gone quiet as they watched her approach. There was no doubt she knew what she was doing as her hips softly rocked from one side to the other.

We both had little smiles on our faces as she slipped her arm around me and kissing me on the cheek whispered ‘ready?’

‘Later guys’ I said, and as we walked away I heard someone behind us say ‘someone’s going to be a lucky bugger.’

I waited until we were outside the hotel before turning to Chris and saying ‘well you sure know how to make an entrance.’

She giggled and then burst out laughing, ‘I didn’t hear you complaining at all and I’m sure you enjoyed it as much as I did.’

I let out a small laugh, ‘well it certainly didn’t do my street cred any harm and that’s a fact.’

We had a lovely meal and sat chatting as if we had known each other all of our lives. I don’t think I had ever been so relaxed when meeting someone face to face for the first time.

We wandered back to the hotel and joined in with the crowd in the function room. Chris’s friends had saved us places on their table with a few others who had arrived. I ordered a bottle of Merlot for us to share as we joined in the chatting and dancing.

Occasionally we were asked to dance with other partners but Chris made sure everyone knew the silent signal she was giving as she always returned and took hold of my hand or slipped her arm around my back.

It was many years since I had been in this situation and I wasn’t sure how the night was going to end despite the expectancy that was obvious all around. The music had slowed to the last few handfuls of smooth sexy songs and we joined the floor, our arms wrapped around each other tightly as we rocked to the slow beat.

We could feel each other’s body heat as our hips moved in time with each other and for the first time that night my cock began to react. It slowly pulsed in my briefs as it tried to escape their restraint, but was held trapped.

Our bodies were so tight together there was no doubt Chris knew the effect she was having on me and giving a little giggle she pushed harder against me and started rotating her hips.

She lifted her head up from my shoulder and we looked into each other’s eyes before our bodies stilled and our mouths joined together. Our hips gyrated slowly together and time just slowly ticked on.

I was surprised to feel Chris remove an arm slowly from my back and then slip it between us and inside my trousers and briefs before softly taking hold of my tightly bent cock and straightening it. She whispered quietly ‘is that more comfortable’ as she put her hand behind my back again.

I’m not sure I had ever been the subject of such a publicly brazen action, as much as I enjoyed it. I moved my mouth to her ear and flicking it with my wet tongue said ‘yes….thank you mam.’

I felt her body shake as she giggled to herself and pushed tighter against my groin, before she whispered back ‘It’s not the only thing that’s damp around here.’

The DJ announced the last song and a few people disappeared from the floor but we continued our slow movements against each other’s bodies along with a few other couples. Our mouth’s rejoined the action as well; it felt as if we were moving in our own little world.

The song ended and we picked up our belongings as people drifted away, but I saw that a few of Chris’s girlfriends had remained. Then I twigged it……they wanted to see sefaköy escort what would happen.

Chris reached up to my ear and whispered ‘your room I think’ as she squeezed my hand.

I didn’t need to answer and as we quietly walked away, I was half expecting cheers to ring out from behind.

We entered my room and threw our coats over the chairs and stood looking at each other for a moment. I was amazed at Chris’s next comment.

‘I want no messing about, we need to get rid of the lust first, I just want you to get on and fuck me.’ Typically northern, blunt and straight to the point, at least it made her thoughts clear. She started to remove her dress and I could see she had been wearing matching red lace briefs and bra underneath.

I was a bit slower in removing my clothes not quite expecting what was happening. She had already ditched her underwear, had thrown back the duvet and had jumped onto the bed.

I was definitely the second runner and had to fight to get my briefs over my stiff cock. As I climbed onto the bed she parted her legs and pulled me on top of her body and then lifted her legs up high and wide. I parted my knees outside of her thighs and guided my precum dripping cock to her entrance just below her tiny landing strip.

My cock was telling me to dive in but my head wanted me to be sure this was really what She wanted and not what she thought I might want. ‘Are you really sure this is what you want I asked?’

She nodded and reaching her hands onto my butt she pulled me deep inside of her pussy. I realised how ready she was as I slid all the way in on her own lubrication.

I held myself still for a moment then started to rock my hips slowly back and forwards. Chris began to moan immediately, she really must have been ready and I gradually increased my thrusts harder and harder deep inside of her.

I knew I was that aroused that at this pace I wouldn’t last long and I could feel my balls tightening already. But it was the increasing volume of her moans that drove me faster and I knew I was approaching the point of no return.

‘I’m gonna cum’ I shouted and started to pull out.

‘Noooo……..in meeee’ and her hands grabbed my ass and pulled my cock forwards and deep inside her as I started to pump my seed. I could feel her pussy milking my every drop and we were both moaning loudly.

We must have timed ourselves perfectly and I flopped down onto her body as I fought to catch my breath. After a couple of minutes I pulled my still stiff cock out from her pussy that I could still feel was pulsing softly. I rolled to her side but left my arm draped across her tummy as we both recovered.

I guess it was five minutes later when she rolled over to face me. ‘I think this time we can make love.’

‘Sounds good to me’ I answered.

I reached over and started to caress her breasts softly with the back of my hand just gently teasing her nipples now and then. She smiled and rolled onto her back again, opening up the rest of her body for me to tease. After running circles around her nipples I moved down to her tummy and ran my hand over her silky smooth skin.

She must take some exercise classes as I felt the harder dome shape of her lower belly. I spread my fingers wide and covered that dome with my hand just squeezing very gently. She had pulled a pillow under her head raising it so she could watch my hand movements.

I moved it on downwards and ran my fingers down the creases of her groin and then back up a little teasing her soft landing strip.

She slowly parted her legs inviting me to move lower. I ran my fingers softly along the outside edges of her still puffy lips noticing their darker colour from her surrounding skin.

I moved my index finger to the back of her slit and really slowly drew it forward and felt the softness of her skin as her lips parted. Moving on towards the front I felt the harder lump of her clit under the tip of my finger and I circled it slowly. It was still sensitive as she let out a deep low moan.

I smiled to myself and kept my gentle teasing going until I felt her start to push her hips up against me. I took my finger back and she whispered ‘spoilsport.’

‘Oh……I’m sorry ‘I answered ‘were you enjoying that?’

She gave me a gentle slap on the shoulder ‘You know bloody well I was.’

‘I see…..I was just going to try something else instead…….that’s if you don’t mind.’ She giggled and gave me another slap.

I moved my body around bringing my head down to the level of her parted legs and I could now see the dampness all along her slit. I popped my tongue out and softly teased her clit again causing her soft moaning to start immediately. I moved on and dipped my tongue into the dampness of her slit and my taste buds sensed the mixture of our juices that had remained inside of her.

I knew her level of arousal was quite high so I took my time using the tip of my tongue to play with her lips for a while toying with the little creases that ran the length of them, but after a while I returned to her clit and felt her body give a little jump.

I could feel her hands take hold of my leg and try to pull it towards her head and I turned to look up to see what she was after. She smiled down at me and said ‘if you are going to eat me then I’d like something of yours in my mouth as well.’

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‘Today will bring you good fortune,’ read the tag on Jessa’s cup of tea. She swirled the tea bag in the warm mug as she waited, looking out the window. It looked cold outside, snow drifting lightly by the window.

She would rather not spend any time in the weather if she didn’t have to. A summer girl through and through, she felt like she spent the winters waiting for the weather to warm again.

The sun was fading fast, splashing vibrant reds and pinks into the cloudy sky. Her friend Lars was due to arrive any moment now.

Typically, she would spend cold evenings like this in front of the fireplace, curled up on the couch with a good television series, only emerging from her blanket cocoon in the morning when she had to go to work.

Unfortunately, her partner was away on an extended work trip, and the house was beginning to feel a little too empty to justify lighting up the fireplace. She needed someone to talk to and hang out with.

There was only so much time she could spend with her cheap vibrator before feeling lonely; she needed some human interaction. After mentioning her struggle with boredom to Lars a few days ago, they had made plans to go to the local open mic.

Closing her eyes, Jessa imagined the participants getting ready for the event and dealing with anticipation in different ways. Singers warming up their voices, guitarists tuning their guitars, or going back over the sheet music for the hundredth time…

Jessa doesn’t quite understand music, but Lars had been learning to play guitar recently, and she was always happy to glean what musical knowledge she could from him. Most of the time, his musical rants sounded like a foreign language.

Even if they don’t share music tastes, the open mic was a way to get out of the house for a little bit, indulging in the local culture. Lars is loyal to the music scene, showing up every open mic night, but trouble at home meant Jessa had been absent for several weeks.

She and Lars got along well, and they had known each other for years, even if it didn’t feel like it. They met in school but didn’t spend much time with each other. Only recently they reconnected and started becoming good friends, exploring the area one karaoke or music night at a time.

Lars’ car pulled into her driveway. Jessa set her tea down on the window sill and walked to the closet, pulling her long overcoat on.

It hid her simple knee-length black dress but left her legs exposed. It wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of fashion, though she was more interested in staying warm on the drive than being fashionable.

She picked up her small strap purse and opened the door as Lars walked up the front steps. “Hi,” they greeted each other with a smile. He was a little bookish, always a little fidgety, and never quite sure of himself, but she liked him as he was. How he moved and interacted with the world fascinated her, and she enjoyed watching him go about his day.

Closing the door behind her, they walked to the car quickly. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, how have things been?” Lars asked as they both climbed into the warm car.

She shivered in relief as she shut the door, blocking the cold air. Her dress provided a little less coverage than she wanted for the cold. Thankfully, the event was indoors, which meant she could dress a little nicer without worrying about the warmth.

“It’s been good!” Jessa started as he began to drive. A lump in her throat pushed her to tell the truth: “Actually, it’s been kind of a rough time, but we’re getting through it, I think.”

“Still fighting with Eric?” Lars asked, barely louder than a whisper. Jessa fiddled with her phone’s connection to the car, trying to put some music on while they made their way to the restaurant. It gave her hands something to do while her mind searched for an acceptable answer.

She and her partner Eric had been in a series of arguments lately over his controlling behavior.

“It’s nothing too bad, but we have been. He’s in Florida these next two weeks for work. It will be better when he’s back.”

Finally, she managed to connect her music to the car speakers. The cab filled with the instrumental beginning to the latest indie playlist she had put together to showcase for Lars.

It was a timely interlude so she could focus on enjoying the evening out rather than her problems at home. She let out a sigh of relief, sitting back in the warm seat. Lars nodded, either not wanting to argue with her or approving of the music.

She tried to keep her problems with Eric quiet, but a few weeks ago, Lars noticed the tension and asked her to spill the beans.

Even though she wasn’t keen on anyone knowing about their relationship problems, it was a relief to have someone to talk to. Someone noticed how difficult it had been for her.

Unfortunately, this made Lars her go-to when she needed to vocalize her frustrations. The only thing she still kept to herself was how she was frustrated in the bedroom, too.

She looked bağcılar escort at Lars as he got lost in thought and nodded gently to the music. He wasn’t a particularly attractive guy in her eyes, but something about him fascinated her.

Dare she say she had butterflies in her stomach? Or was it just because she hadn’t been out with friends in a long time, and it was genuine excitement for the outing?

It didn’t take long for Lars to notice her staring, and she shook the thought away, giving him a quick smile before settling into the seat to enjoy the music.

It didn’t feel like a long time before Lars pulled into the restaurant parking lot and smoothly into one of the empty parking spaces. The place was already buzzing with activity, and finding a parking space close to the doors was unlikely.

People were bringing instrument cases in, hanging out in the front of the restaurant, smoking and talking, or lining up for seating.

The two of them hopped out and ran to join the seating queue before it got too long, laughing as they did. Fortunately, the line was moving quickly.

The rustic restaurant had a comfortable feeling to it. Soft lighting filled the room with the accompanying smells of cooking food. A fire roared in the fireplace on the back wall, providing all the warmth the compact restaurant needed. The holidays were coming up soon, and decorations were strung from every corner of the room.

“Pizza?” Lars asked.

“Only if there’s pepperoni on it,” Jessa said as a hostess waved them over to the bar.

As they walked over to their seats, the opening set began to play on stage — a simple instrumental guitar cover of a well-known song to start the night.

Lars draped his jacket over the back of his seat and ordered while she took off the coat and hung it on the rack on the back wall.

She turned around to see Lars watching her with a crooked smile. Was he admiring her?

She blushed and glanced down briefly, smoothing out the silky dress that hugged her curves. It was a bold choice to wear for what she would consider a casual night out, but it was better than letting it sit in her closet.

“What’s that look for?” She asked, pulling herself up onto the barstool.

“Nothing. You look good.” He said, eyeing her for a moment longer before taking a drink and directing his attention to the music on stage.

“Thanks. You too,” she offered, taking a drink of what he had ordered for her.

Lars wore a black indie band t-shirt over a light long-sleeve shirt and bright skinny jeans. He wasn’t dressed up as nicely as she was, but she knew he put in the effort, even into his casual outfits. She’d be a hypocrite if she said it wasn’t similar to how she usually dressed on a weeknight after work.

As the night started, a waitress brought the pizza out, and the two dug in with hungry excitement. Only a few drinks in, the energy was high. They were joking around, and the night felt great. It was like the outside world melted away with the music and cozy atmosphere.

Someone wedged their way between Jessa and Lars’ seats, setting a drink down in front of Jessa. “Have a drink on me, sweetheart.”

She looked up. An older gentleman smiled back at her, eyes crinkled. “Oh – no, thank you, though,” Jessa smiled sheepishly, pushing the drink away from her.

“Suit yourself, young lady.” He shrugged, wandering back over to his seat at the bar.

“Does that happen often?” Lars asked, nodding towards the drink the gentleman had put in front of her. “Awfully bold of him to do it himself instead of sending it over with the bartender.”

“I don’t know. Often enough, I suppose, especially when I go out alone. I don’t ever accept.” She shrugged. “Bars aren’t the kind of place I want to find a new hookup.”

“Oh, compared to the other places you find a hookup as an engaged woman?” He asked, briefly swatting at her arm to emphasize the joke.

“I don’t need a reminder,” she said with a huff.

The fact was, she was here to forget about a lot of that. She wasn’t convinced that marriage was the way to go anymore. All it did was limit what you could do and who you could do it with.

Was this what people meant when they said it’s easy to get cold feet before the big wedding day or was she really growing apart from Eric?

The world felt too confusing and overwhelming to sort out alone. Then again, that’s precisely why she wanted a night out like tonight.

“It’s free alcohol. You might as well enjoy it.” Lars said, interrupting her thoughts and pulling her back into the moment.

He pulled the drink closer to the two of them, so the bartender didn’t take it away. She looked at him with the last slice of pizza in her mouth, “you think that’s okay?” she asked through the cheese and sauce.

Lars laughed and shook his head at her for her absurd pizza manners. She smiled a little, happy to keep the mood playful. She didn’t want to pull the conversation bahçelievler escort down tonight.

“You’ve already told him no. He’s not going to think you changed your mind.” Lars said with a shrug.

“Look, he’s leaving. He won’t be a bother,” He nodded toward the door. Jessa turned around just in time to see the man disappear out the door and into the cold night.

She shrugged and set the pizza slice down, taking a big swig of the drink. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. It had enough colored syrup to make it look sickeningly sweet, but it didn’t cover up the weird, salty alcohol taste enough for her to want to finish it.

“Blech!” She stuck her tongue out in disgust, scowling. Free alcohol or not, she had standards.

Pushing the half-empty drink away from her again, she looked down to find that Lars had stolen her pizza plate. He was chewing away at one of her slices happily.

Jessa gave him an exaggerated pouty face, which bubbled into a laugh. He pushed the other slice back towards her.

Pizza split between the two of them, they turned back towards the music as another act came on stage.

The night resumed, and they sat and joked, applauding to the music after each set. As the next act was preparing to get on stage, she started to feel dizzy.

It was a little here and there, easy to dismiss with the alcohol until the world turned dark and distorted. Music began to play, but it sounded distant.

She had a decent tolerance for alcohol, but this wasn’t right. It felt like she was being pushed down by some invisible force.

The music faded as she struggled to keep her head up, holding herself upright on the bar.

“Are you okay?” Lars asked. His warm hand on her arm brought her back to the moment, helping her focus.

Briefly looking up, Lars and the bartender were both trying to steady her, concern across their faces. How long had they been trying to get her attention?

She tried pulling herself up on the bar top, but her head drooped. She mumbled something, but it came out as nonsense.

“Are you sober? It would be best if you took her home,” the bartender said to Lars. The world just spun around her. “That man at the end of the bar gave her something,” he pointed.

“I’m on it. Be careful on your way home,” the bartender said before rushing off.

At this point, Jessa was struggling to keep herself upright.

The world came in snapshots.

Lars putting her coat over her shoulders.

The two of them walking through the parking lot back to his car, footsteps silent in the fresh snow.

Him buckling her into the seat with the door open, cold air and snow flurries rushing in.

Him with his head in his hands, sighing in frustration.

She must have dozed off at some point.

Slowly, she came to with a steady image of Lars in the driver’s seat, driving her back home. His eyes were steadied on the road ahead of them, but his face was tight with concern.

She was curled up on her side in the passenger seat, huddled as far into her coat as she could manage.

The position had strained the seat belt, locking it in place, but she felt comforted, curled up like she was, coddled by the heat of the seat warmer.

The world still felt fuzzy, but it was coming back to her. Her skin felt sensitive, the feeling of everything doubling in on itself.

“Thank you,” Jessa muttered, her head still spinning.

The motion of the car didn’t help her vertigo.

He looked at her but didn’t have words to fill the space. He looked like he had been crying. Instead, he turned his attention back to the road and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

He had been drinking with her, so she couldn’t tell if the silence was concentration or a more meaningful thoughtfulness.

Somewhere distantly, she felt a flicker of anxiety. Was Lars sober enough? How would this affect him? Would he want to go out with her again after her carelessness?

Her head spun, and her anxious thoughts turned into nausea. She closed her eyes to steady herself, letting herself doze off again.

What seemed like seconds later, she felt the car pull to a complete stop. She opened her eyes as Lars turned off the car, leaning back in his seat in relief. They made it back in one piece, whether he was sober or not.

She looked up at the house, the porch light glittering in the darkness, but she made no effort to move from the seat.

“I’m sorry I made you drink that. I had no idea.” Lars said abruptly, his inner turmoil spilling out in a near-tangible flood of emotions.

“The bartender told me she’s seen girls get targeted like that, and they end up… They end up in bad shape.” His words almost caught in his throat, and his eyes glistened.

Despite it being her mistake, he was taking the situation like it was his fault. She swallowed hard, trying to gather her thoughts.

She locked eyes with him, thinking about how different arnavutköy escort it felt in the car earlier in the day. She didn’t want him to feel this way, but words wouldn’t change his feelings.

Just a few hours ago, she was chatting with him about music on the way to the show. Now, the car felt a little too quiet without the rumble of music through the air and the anticipation of a good night.

Now, all she had to look forward to was a big, lonely house. Where was the good fortune in this?

“I don’t want to be alone.”

It was all she could muster.

She searched his eyes, but Lars was weighing options somewhere else. The moments stretched on.

“I can take you to a friend’s house,” he finally offered, sounding tired.

She shook her head, “no, this is stupid. I’m stupid. I should enjoy the time at home while I can.”

Truthfully, she didn’t want to be around any other friends, and she had drifted away from many of them because of her situation at home.

She was with Lars now and didn’t want him to leave. She couldn’t imagine that he would want to take care of her. Her mind understood, but her heart felt a little heavier.

“Are you even sober?” she asked as he left the vehicle and shut the door behind him. She sighed.

It felt like a struggle to keep the world from spinning out of control, but she managed to unbuckle her seatbelt and wrest free from the purse straps tangled around her coat and seatbelt.

Lars opened the door for her, a hand outstretched to help her out of the seat. “The least I can do is make sure you’re comfortable and safe.”

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Jessa took his hand, shivering as snow fell around them. She hated the cold air, but the oppressive darkness made the loneliness really sink in.

She pushed forward with him in tow, pulling the keys out of her bag and unlocking the door. He followed her inside, stopping to close the door behind him. Tears welled in her eyes as she surveyed the empty house.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

Whatever she had been given amplified the roller coaster of emotions inside her. Or was that the alcohol? How many drinks did she have?

She searched for the words, but they failed her. Instead, she turned towards him, wrapping her arms tightly around him in a hug.

His jacket was cold, but his warm body underneath felt like a haven. She could feel his steady breathing and the warmth of his arms around her, and she had no intention of letting go.

“Let’s get you to bed. You should sleep it off.” He said after a few moments, gently pushing her out of the embrace. With those words, she felt dread for the quiet house but mostly a disappointment in the foiled night.

As he moved away, a tightness in his pants caught her attention. She had to look again to be certain she had really seen it.

Her heart leaped into her throat. Was he turned on? Had she turned him on?

He caught her gaze, and the moment drew on as the two of them knew what was happening, but neither knew how to address it.

He moved his jacket down to hide the evidence, his face turning bright red. “I’m sorry, the alcohol… T-this happens sometimes?” he stammered.

She looked up to meet his eyes. The world was still spinning, but the effects of the drug were wearing off. Whatever was in the drink, she hadn’t had enough to last for long.

She couldn’t help but feel a tingle of possibility moisten the sex between her legs as she looked into his eyes, noticing for the first time how the color complimented his complexion.

Here was a man who felt something for her when she felt so vulnerable. Not only did he care about her mental health, but he would also go out of his way to ensure she was physically protected. Friend or not, that meant a lot to her.

Tonight would be a night that she would have trouble getting to sleep.

Alone with a little cheap vibrator to keep her company and thoughts of a very unlikely someone… Her cheeks grew warm as she imagined it.

“What’s the matter?” Lars asked, breaking the tension that confronted her with her own thoughts.

Ideas bounced around in Jessa’s head, and she had trouble answering him, distracted by her feelings. “Nothing, I just…”

Was it really the alcohol, or did he feel something for her? Did she even feel that way about him?

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, but they turned to a lustful ache as she thought about what it would be like if he pressed his body against hers.

But Lars, of all people? She wouldn’t dare.

Still, some part of her wanted to grind against his leg, unzip his pants and find out what he tasted like.

The thought only turned her on more, making her wetter than she wanted to admit to a friend.

Perhaps that was part of what made the idea so thrilling, knowing it’s not supposed to go that far.

“Look, I won’t stay for long. I just want to make sure you are all set.” He said, breaking her daydream.

If she wanted him to stay, she would need to do something now. A nervous chill brought tingles to her body, but it felt like someone else’s emotions.

Logically, she knew she shouldn’t and that she would regret trying anything.

It’s Lars, for goodness’ sake. She couldn’t just go kissing anyone she felt like. He wouldn’t want that, anyway. Right?

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I’ve been experiencing a bit of writer’s block surrounding “A Trip in the Fall” and the direction in which to take it. With that being said, this is another true story about my girlfriend Abi and I. I hope you enjoy it and as always I appreciate ratings and feedback.

***

Over the July 4th weekend, a woman Abi knew from her high school days got married, and she had asked Abi to be a bridesmaid. Abi readily accepted, but seeing as how she had only ever mentioned her in passing, I was a little confused. If you haven’t read any of my other stories about Abi, a quick refresh: Abi grew up in an extremely religious home and it wasn’t until 3 years ago she “escaped.” She works for a former FWB of mine which is how we met. We’ve been together for a little over a year, and it wasn’t until this past Thanksgiving that her family and her started to reconcile, so meeting someone from her past was a bit surprising to me. She explained that while she was good friends with the girl throughout school, her parents really hadn’t shown much interest in her because the girl wasn’t devout enough according to her parents, so she only kept in contact through social media in secret until she moved out of her parents’.

Jen (The Bride to Be) asked Abi to be her bridesmaid last October so the proceeding 8 months were filled with wedding events from dress fittings, to wedding party get-togethers and your other typical wedding events. I finally got to meet Jen in late May when she and her fiancé had the entire wedding party and their significant others over for a BBQ. Everyone seemed nice and what I would consider normal, which was nice, so any apprehension I had about going to a wedding where I knew only Abi was abated.

The wedding was being held at a small resort on one of the lakes in our state which provided everything to the wedding party. There was even a nice golf course on site that myself and a couple of the other significant others took advantage of on the morning of the wedding.

*Wedding Weekend-Friday*

Abi and I arrived on Friday evening after a 2 hour drive and did the whole rehearsal, then dinner thing. Being that it was more casual, I wore a pair of golf shorts, a polo and boat shoes, but as always, it was Abi who “stole the show.” She emerged from the bathroom before we headed down wearing a navy blue dress that fell to her mid-thigh, sleeveless, with white, lace like circular trim that ran up the center. When she entered the room and sat down on the bed to put her shoes on, all I could say was, “Wow.”

Looking up and smiling as she clasped her shoes, “Pick your mouth off the floor, and keep your hands to yourself tonight mister.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then you will have to play golf with morning wood.”

“NO FAIR!”

Abi laughed and stood, then ushered me out of the room and down to the room where the rehearsal was taking place. The rehearsal took about an hour, and I sat in the back talking with the other guys whose wives/gfs were in the wedding. After the rehearsal we all headed to one of the restaurants onsite for dinner. I was once again seated with Abi and out of habit rested my hand on her knee/thigh. She shot me a quick glare and I removed it subtly. I gave her an odd look and she picked up her phone and began texting. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, when I looked at it, I was greeted with “I’m not wearing panties and I can’t have you getting me wet and it show on this dress!”

“Well what’d you do that for?”

“I forgot to pack a thong and I can’t have panty lines. We were rushed getting out after work!”

I smirked and texted back, “Well whose fault is that, certainly not mine?”

I put my phone away and placed my hand back on her leg, only moving it once dinner came so I could eat. The entire time, I could feel Abi shifting a bit under my touch and when I would smile at her she’d glare and then smile back.

Over the next few hours, we had dinner and dessert, then drinks and overall enjoyed ourselves. As the clock struck 10, the head waiter announced that it was the last call on the tab that the groom’s family had. We each got one more drink, and then excused ourselves to head back to our room, Abi confirming when hair and makeup was scheduled for, and me confirming that I had an 8:15 tee time with a couple of the other guys. We exited the restaurant and made our way to the elevators. Entering it, we found ourselves alone for the ride to the 8th floor. As the doors shut, Abi turned to me and glared, “That was so not cool!”

I laughed, “I always keep my hand on your leg, and you were the one who forgot to bring the right underwear and had to go without. That’s a you problem.”

Abi glared back and for a split second I thought I maybe had screwed up, but she got her devilish grin and replied, “You’re right, I am the one who screwed up, what are you gonna do about it?”

As the elevator dinged and the doors opened, I responded, “I’ll show you. Room. Now.”

I followed Abi out of the elevator and gave her çapa escort a swat on the ass, causing her to squeal. We hurriedly entered the room, and no sooner than the door was shut and latched, Abi turned to me, threw her clutch on the dresser, and said, “Don’t leave me wondering.”

I pulled my polo over my head then said, “Dress, shoes, off.”

Abi nodded her head and simply said, “Yes sir.” Hearing her being submissive was a huge turn on for me; we have dabbled a bit in domination but neither one of us was super into it. Anymore it’s just simple me telling her what to do to change things up on occasion.

She reached behind her back, pulled the zipper of her dress as I unbuttoned my shorts and pushed them and my boxers to the floor, allowing my cock to spring free. As I stepped out of my shorts, I looked to see Abi’s dress falling to the floor. We stood there, me naked and Abi in a simple, white shelf bra that barely covered her nipples, but gave her very nice cleavage.

“That’s a new bra.”

“I bought it just for this trip, thought you’d like it. Other than a sports bra, it’s the only one I brought, I can’t wear a bra with my bridesmaid’s dress.”

“Well, that’s good to know for tomorrow night…”. I let my sentence trail off causing Abi to bite her lip. I took a step towards her, causing her to step out of her dress and bump into the bed, causing her to sit down.

“You said you were turned on by me simply touching your thigh, spread your legs and show me how turned on and wet you are.”

“Yes sir.” Abi spread her legs showing me her bare pussy. She has recently switched from getting waxed to starting the laser hair removal process. She’s currently 2 treatments in with 2 to go and her pussy and legs are the smoothest I have ever felt. With just her legs spread, I could see her wetness glistening in the faint light of the room’s lamp.

“That’s not enough proof to me, show me how wet you are.”

Abi nodded and reached her hand between her legs and stroked her middle finger up between her lips and when she neared her clit, removing it and allowing a trail of wetness to snake from her slit to her finger. “I’m this wet.”

“Still not good enough, show me the inside too.” Abi bit her lip and stayed still for a moment, I took a step towards her so that my cock was only inches from her mouth, and sternly said, “Now.”

Her hand immediately returned to her pussy and instead of just putting one finger inside, she shoved her two middle fingers all the way inside, causing her to moan in pleasure.

I allowed myself to smile, “That’s a good girl, now show me.”

She slowly slid her fingers out and held them up for me to see. Her fingers were absolutely covered in her own wetness. I bent down, took her fingers into my mouth and sucked them clean, “Yum, you always taste so good.”

Abi grinned, “You still haven’t told me what you were gonna do about me “messing up” by not wearing panties to dinner.

I grinned back, “Here is what I’m thinking. Tonight, I’m going to fuck your face, then I’m going to fuck you and fill you with cum.” Abi let out a sigh as I continued, “Then I’m going to fuck you in the morning before I play golf, filling you once again. Hopefully golf will be done before you have to get ready, so I can fuck you again, then you can rest during the wedding.”

All Abi could say was “Wow.” I noticed that her hand had slipped back down between her legs and was slowly touching herself.

I grinned again, “That’s my girl. Maybe at the reception, I fuck you again, so you have to feel my cum on and in you all evening. Abi groaned again, although I think it was a combination of my dirty talk and her now fingering herself. “Finally, we will come back to the room and we are going to take advantage of the balcony overlooking the lake while I fuck you once again.”

Through short breaths Abi squeaked out, “Fuck yes, you’re going to fill me with so much cum, thank god for my IUD. I’ll make sure I wear panties all weekend so I can hold it all in.”

“That’s what I like to hear, are you ready for part one?”

“YES!! I thought you’d never ask.”

Abi removed her hand from her pussy, opened her mouth and grabbing my ass, pulled my cock into her waiting mouth. While we do like rough sex sometimes, I would never want to hurt Abi so I allowed her to slowly get comfortable with my cock in her mouth and she eagerly coated it with spit before removing it from her mouth, looking up at me and saying, “Fuck my face please.”

I simply nodded and slowly began to rock my hips back and forth, shoving my cock in and out of her mouth. With each thrust I went a little bit deeper until I felt Abi shift her head a bit and her nose was suddenly touching my pelvis as my cock slipped into her throat. She gagged slightly as I let out a groan and began to pull my cock back. As I got it about halfway out I could feel her tongue on the underside of my head, flicking it which caused me to groan again.

Abi fındıkzade escort allowed my cock to slip out of her mouth and with her devilish grin said, “Is that all you got? I thought you were going to use me?”

She put my cock back into her mouth and I immediately grabbed the back of her head and began to thrust in and out of her mouth. After two thrusts Abi groaned in pleasure, we kept this up for a minute or two before I felt my balls begin to tingle. I let go of her head and removed my cock from her mouth, “I don’t want to fill your mouth with cum, I want to fill your pussy.”

As she caught her breath Abi said, “Then do it big boy, stop talking about it.”

Laughing at her attempt to heckle me, I reached around and unsnapped her bra allowing it to slip down her arms, where I removed it and tossed it to the floor with the rest of our clothes. She stood up in front of me and took my cock into her hands and lightly began to stoke it, causing me to groan again. She reached up on her tip toes and whispered in my ear, “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

Realizing she was toying with me by acting in control, I smacked her ass, causing her to squeal before saying, “Lay down on the bed and spread your legs.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, and scooted backwards before adding, “That’s more like it.”

I climbed onto the bed and moved in between her legs where I could see her wet pussy spread and waiting for me. I reached out, grabbing her hips, pulled her quickly towards me so she was lying flat on her back. She let out a squeal to which I countered, “I want you deep and I want to see your tits move as I fuck you.” Abi has always been a bit self-conscious about her smaller breasts (Average B-Cup), but I love them and make sure I throw comments in about how sexy they look as often as I can.

I lined my cock up and slowly moved it up and down her slit to not only get it wet, but also to tease her a bit more. After I had rubbed her clit a couple of times, Abi looked at me with a look of pure lust and said, “Would you put that thing in me already!?”

As much as I loved teasing her, hearing her beg for my cock is still one of the sexiest things ever. I paused and began to slide my cock into her inch by inch. As our pelvises met, we both let out a sigh, me savoring the feeling of her pussy gripping my cock and as Abi put it one time I asked, her savoring the feeling of me filling her pussy completely.

I slowly began to thrust, both of us enjoying the feeling of being one. I slowly worked up to the pace that I knew would make Abi cum, but would also allow me to last longest. I thrusted for a minute or so when between moans, Abi opened her eyes and said, “Can I touch myself?”

“Of course you can.”

Abi reached down and began to rub her clit in a circular motion causing her to moan even more as I continued to thrust. As her moans became louder, I reached forward, grabbing her hips and began to pull her up and against me each time our pelvises met. I was able to do this three or four times before Abi let out a groan and gripped my thighs with her hands and began to orgasm. As her whole body shook with pleasure, I did my best to continue thrusting but with all the Kegels, lifting, running, tennis, and yoga that she does, she gripped my cock like a vice as her orgasm washed over her.

As she calmed down and took deep breaths, she looked up at me, “Thank you for the release, I’ve been needing that all night.”

I leaned down and kissed her, “It was my pleasure baby.”

She giggled, “I dunno about that, seems it was me getting all the pleasure.”

I started to thrust again slowly but Abi stopped me, “Jack, I want you deep, but I want see you as you cum. Can we try me holding my legs back?” Over the last year that we have been together, Abi and I have tried many different positions and she likes it very deep. The only issue is that I’m slightly above average and she’s so small that I have caused her pain in her cervix before.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m so turned on right now from tonight and the dirty talk about this weekend, I think I can do it.”

I slid my cock out of her pussy and she immediately pulled her knees to her chest and held her legs apart with her hands. I reached behind her and grabbed one of the pillows and placed it under her ass. I lined back up and as I slid in told her, “Tell me if this is too much.” Abi simply nodded and as my cock was swallowed by her pussy, we both let out a moan in unison.

I looked down at my beautiful girlfriend who was basically folded in half for me, and she said the words any man wants to hear, “Fuck me stupid Jack.” I raised myself up onto my forearms and began to thrust into her. Not the slow shallow thrusts of before, but the hard, full, deep thrusts that Abi was craving. Each time I bottomed out we both let out a groan and after another five thrusts Abi said, “Harder, please harder, I can feel it in my stomach, I topkapı escort want to feel it everywhere.”

Taking this as my cue that she was okay, I began to thrust hard into her before pulling my cock almost out and then plunging it back in. I was only able to keep this up for a minute or so when I felt my balls and groin begin to tingle. I slowed down for a moment to try and make it last longer, but when I did Abi’s eyes shot open, “Don’t you dare slow down, fill my cunt up!” Hearing her talk so crudely was something I enjoyed even if it only happened on rare occasions.

I resumed my pace and with Abi moaning “Yes, Yes, Yes” over and over, within 15 or 20 seconds I plunged my cock into her and erupted against her cervix. As the first jet of cum filled her, Abi’s eyes shot open, and she began to cum herself. As my orgasm subsided with the 4th and final cum shot, my arms gave out and I collapsed onto Abi.

As her orgasm subsided, she stretched her legs back out and we both lay there catching our breath. As my cock finally began to soften, I rolled off her and we lay side by side for a couple of minutes in post-coital bliss.

It was Abi who spoke first, “Wow, you’ve never been that deep, it felt like you were impaling me, but it never hurt.”

I turned my head to face her, “Are you sure?”

“Oh baby I am more than sure.” She propped herself up on her elbow and smiled, “Please stick your cock back in my mouth so I clean you up before we go to sleep.”

I scooted up to a sitting position and Abi leaned over and took my now soft cock into her mouth, cleaning both of our juices off. With a few slurps she let go and looked at me, “All clean. What time do I need to be awake for round two?”

I laughed, “Listen to you! The tee time is at 8:15, so I need to be downstairs at 8 to check in, I’ll probably set an alarm for 7:15 or so.”

“That’s perfect, if I’m not awake, you better wake me up. I want another load in me before you leave.”

With that, she rolled over and placed her head on my chest, draped a leg over me and said, “I love you Jack.”

I kissed her hair, “I love you too Abi.” We lay there cuddling and I could feel a bit of my cum leaking onto my leg, but that just made me smile as we both drifted off to sleep.

*Saturday*

I woke up Saturday morning to my alarm at 7:15 as planned; what I didn’t plan on was Abi already being awake. As I rolled over and reached to turn my phone off, she was leaning against the wall outside of the bathroom in a pair of gray panties with her hair in a towel.

“Good morning sleepy head, I’ve showered and am ready for the day.”

“Well good morning to you too.”

“Why don’t you use the bathroom, and then I’ll take care of that.” She said as she gestured to my morning wood that was making a pretty prominent tent under the sheet.

I hopped out of bed and walked towards her, kissing her passionately and giving her ass a firm squeeze before making my way to the bathroom. After a considerable effort to piss, I washed my hands and wiped my cock down with a washcloth. I emerged to find Abi sitting at the desk, typing on her laptop.

I walked up behind her, kissing and nibbling on her neck while cupping her breasts. She let out a sigh and shut her laptop, “That feels wonderful and all, but you need to lay on the bed.”

I stepped away from the chair as she stood up and made my way to the bed. I sat down and pulled her into my lap, “Is this better?”

“Much better.” We kissed and groped each other for the next few minutes until Abi looked at the clock seeing 7:35. “You can’t be late and while foreplay is good, we don’t have any more time for that.” She stood up and peeled her underwear off and looking at them said, “Damn, they are already wet. Oh well, they’ll stay that way today.” She shrugged her shoulders, dropping them on the floor and said, “My hairs wet and I don’t want it to go crazy, and I don’t want you tired for golf, how about I do the work this morning?”

“That sounds good to me…” As I finished my sentence, Abi once again straddled me, placed her knees on either side of me on the bed, she guided my cock into her wet pussy. She settled onto it and we kissed as she began to grind herself against me. While I wasn’t supposed to be doing anything, I did make sure to push up into her as much as possible to match her grinding.

We kept this up for a couple of minutes before she stopped kissing me and sat up straight, “Suck on my tits.”

“Gladly.” I took my hands off of her hips, moving them to her ass and began to squeeze as I took her left nipple into my mouth. As she continued to grind on me, I nibbled on her nipple then switched to take the other on in my mouth. Her grinding began to get harder and faster and with a toss of her head back, she let out a moan and began to cum. As her orgasm subsided, I let her nipple go and began to kiss her softly.

She pulled away, “Wow, thank you for that. Scoot back and lay down.”

Abi put her feet back on the floor and lifted herself off my cock; I scooted back as she had instructed as she crawled up the bed after me. Rather than face me in cowgirl like I expected, she turned around, straddled me then once again used her hand to guide my clock into her. As she settled down with a sigh, she looked over her shoulder, “Damn I’m wet. Enjoy the view baby.”

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