Ay: Ocak 2022

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MORNING: “Intensification”

“Something urgent?”

“No.” I caught John’s eye and realised that he might’ve grasped that I was frantically putting the phone away when he entered the room. Guilt entered the picture. I forced myself into greater composure. “Something at home. No big deal,” I calmed the waters.

A few seconds of hesitation. His eyebrows went down. “Alright.” He pulled a chair to sit opposite me. I watched him intently, waiting for the purpose of his visit to be revealed.

He took a break. “Alright. There is no other way to say this. There have been complaints about you.”

Dead silence seemed to follow that statement, instantly and temporarily wiping out any memory of the morning rendez-vous and the digital exchanges later. “What? Who?” was all I manged to utter. His countenance was serious enough to suggest this wasn’t a minor thing he was bringing up.

“Apparently two students claiming that the content and the manner in which you conduct your lectures denies them, quote unquote, their lived experience.”

I would’ve gone paler on my face. My muscles felt tenser suddenly and I couldn’t tell whether this was due to the implications I knew this news would bear for me professionally or because of how angry it was instantly making me.

“Excuse me?” Dead silence again. “Is this a joke?” More silence and attempts at averting looking at me. “What specifically are you talking about?” This was not a question, really, but a counter-attack on my part. “Hold on—Why are you telling me this? You’re not my superior.”

“The Dean is otherwise engaged at the moment.” Ok, so now I had a bullet-proof piece of evidence that this was serious enough.

“I need to know more about these accusations. Who exactly is complaining and what is it about?”

“I don’t actually know much about it. I was simply asked to communicate to you—” he hesitated, and it was clear that it brought him no pleasure to do so. “Communicate to you,” he went on nonetheless, “that you are required to attend a disciplinary meeting headed by Dean Withers, Dr Cortez and Dr Carruthers tomorrow morning at 9am.” He was now looking down at his feet, avoiding eye contact. “You’ll receive a formal letter in your pigeonhole by the end of the day.”

My mouth went dry and lost the ability to speak for a moment. “I am sorry,” he said. “You don’t deserve this.” However he wished this to come across, it sounded like a death penalty.

He rose without a word and took the steps between the desk and the door. He stopped there and opened his mouth to say something, but visibly changed his mind. I was on my own a few seconds later.

I clenched my fists as the world swirled around me. Rage and confusion reigned supreme. No information, eryamanda yeni escortlar no formal anything, and being informed by a third party nothing to do with anything. Wasn’t this just typical of this place! And the idea that I’d be outnumbered 3 to 1 in the meeting on the following day topped it all up.

Some “offended” young mind decided to be “appalled”, I was sure, that some part of history of Stalinism, suggesting that others in history before his or her life had suffered more than the life she had, was denying her oppressed life. I had no way of knowing this now, but I was certain some part of the debate was taken in the wrong way by someone, and the university supported them in this. Geez.

I don’t know how long I sat there, raging in the empty room, trying to rake my memories for what this could’ve been, in this mist-like deranged state of mind. It could be 5 minutes or 30 minutes.

“Fuck,” I eventually cursed under my breath. It was dawning on me that it would’ve been one of the group I had just taught who had voiced that “grievance” to the university’s authorities. This likely explained the bizarrely good behaviour today during that session. They probably knew already they were about to get their revenge.

I knew the day at work was effectively over. I had no more sessions to run that day and it was quite clear that Mark’s dissertation, in the light of this, was not going to get marked. I needed to get out of here, and fast. It was possible to work from home anyhow in such cases, although I certainly did not plan on doing any such thing. It was an unholy whirl of emotions just now and I needed out.

I didn’t even collect anything from the room. I didn’t pass through the Common Room or any other place. I simply walked out of the door into the street.

* * *

It was a perfectly sunny day, which offered immediate contrast to the bleak nature of the news just received. I walked away from the university buildings, far away to remove any possibility of anyone from there who knew me to speak to me. Walking fast, carried on the raging wave of anxiety, I eventually found an independent café, well-tucked in the shade of a large oak tree, away from the prying eyes of the passers-by.

It was only here, with my cup of cappuccino, that my heart’s pounding began to slow down, giving rise to thinking back about Hollie, who quickly and successfully pushed out the anxiety about tomorrow’s meeting to the margins of my consciousness.

At first, I was consoled by the mental image of her soft lips and expressive eyes. Then, in a split second, the memory of her last phone message came back. Fervently, I practically ripped the phone out of my pocket.

A long message awaited me there. My heart pounded whilst sincan escort bayan I was looking at the digital words. Her words took the entire screen and then some more.

Someone interrupted you, Professor? What of mine would you like to kiss?… [A regular smiley face followed here, taking on a different eroticised meaning. She was taking it further, and fast.] My lips? My neck that craves your breath and your own lips? [It seemed that the pounding was now in my temples.] Or is it my breasts you’re after?…

Whatever it is, it’s yours. I am yours.

Wish I knew this straight away in the coffee shop, and I wasn’t so bloody shy and stuff. Now I have to wait until you finish work – aaarghh! So hot for you I can’t wait.

The message ended here, but there was clearly another to be scrolled down to. My finger moved across the screen automatically. I stared at it.

A photo of a pair of female breasts slid into my screen. Darkish, relatively well-tanned, looking to be cup D. Despite the dark skin colour tones, the nipples and the darker areolas contrasted well with them. Cupping them gently from below were too slender-fingered similarly-tanned hands. I recognised the white nail varnish from the morning. “Holy shit!” I hissed, slightly too excitedly. Luckily, no one sat close enough to hear to judge this. These are mine and are soon to be yours. Want them?

There was one more pic. This time it was her – against a leafy, green backdrop of a garden, possibly a garden through a window – there she was. A huge contrast to the distinguished, female professional from the morning, slim, topless, similarly cupping her voluptuous breasts, her soft delicate light-pink lips parted, revealing white teeth. She both oozed and invited desire.

I suddenly realised how tense I was, feeling slight wheezing in my throat as if I suddenly got a sore throat. A shiver passed down my shoulders and across my chest sending a wave of goosebumps across my body. I shifted in my seat, becoming aware of my cock straining against my trousers. I licked my lips. This girl wants to be yours, today, said the final piece of text under the second pic.

I licked my lips almost aggressively. I didn’t think. My fingers were typing, driven still by anger and humiliation of the events at the university, now in the background.

Bad day at work. Real bad. Can be home in half an hour. Are you free in an hour?

I almost hit ‘Send’, but the pic of her tits, seductive lips and the memory of her from this morning were all working in unison to just give in to the desire. There was no question now what she wanted, so I could just let go. The fact that I was likely at least 15 years older than her, and she was likely in her early twenties, ankara escort was only spurring me on. I added two more sentences to the text, the thrill of sleaze pumping adrenaline into my veins.

Can you be a good slut?

Then the thrill of waiting, mixed with the awareness of being bad. I wasn’t even sure if she was around, of course. That previous text and the pics would have been sent some time ago. Yet, just seconds later, the app informed me A new message is being typed. Waiting, I scrolled up quickly to the pic of her delightful tits and closed my eyes briefly to bring up the fantasy of sucking those in. Man, she was fresh! I was far gone, enough so already to not really consider that she could object to being called a slut.

How that shy thing seemed to morph into a no-barriers young sexpot I couldn’t quite figure out just now, but I wasn’t even trying to, either. The message came back – she was not appalled at all by being called a slut.

Yeah, babe. I will be your bitch. Do what you want to me. I am free now. Just tell me where to go.

I gave her my address, telling her to arrive in about 50 minutes’ time, and left the coffee shop in a hurry.

* * *

It was just 10 minutes of a brisk walk to the Leeds train station near which there are always several taxis waiting. I grabbed one. It would be a bit pricey, given the 20 minute ride, but I cared very little.

Sitting at the back, trying to communicate with an overly chatty taxi driver as little as I possibly could, I was presently looking out of the window, watching the shops, pedestrians and trees passing me by. Smoke-like aura seemed to shroud my mind. It was as if I’ve jumped into the future already, and premonitions of what was to happen filled my mind to the brim. Premonitions, indeed: it felt evil, dangerous and exciting. Her text talk had left no doubt as to me being able to fulfil the darkest fantasies I had, the dreams of power, control and domination over a woman. There had always been there, well-tamed by both myself and those immediately around me. But one’s nature persists and cannot be controlled away. Now, rudely (I didn’t care) ignoring the pointless chatter of the taxi driver, who eventually gave up on trying to make the conversation, the realisation that I had the opportunity and licence to unleash the feral, commanding and wild man in me – dawned upon me.

The images of Hollie’s French kisses, voluptuous tits, perfectly shaved (I hoped) pussy and my rigid throbbing cock fucking it, all flashing in rapid succession through the remnants of my mind all meant that the realisation came with absolutely no guilt or remorse. Instead, there was just the all-consuming thrill of soon getting a woman.

Having handed over the cash, I went straight for my door without watching the cab leave. Before turning the key in the front door, I sent her the final text.

There’s a little walled alleyway to the left of the front door. Take that. This will lead to the back door. That’ll take you straight to the bedroom.

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Shards of mid-morning sunlight crept across the polished oak floor of Mark’s fourth floor Manhattan loft. They inched up the side of his platform bed, gliding slowly across his face. He greeted the warmth with squinting eyes and a satisfied smile. He reached out with his right arm and stroked Kelli’s back.

“You awake, babes?” he asked softly.

“Uh huh,” she replied, her voice muffled by the down comforter in which she snuggled.

Mark had met Kelli seven months earlier at the opening of an off-Broadway play he’d co-written. The chemistry between them was instant and electric, seemingly energized by some mystical powers of fate. They made love the same night his play opened.

Mark was six-foot two and one-hundred eighty-five pounds. He enjoyed rollerblading through Central Park and playing tennis to keep fit. Kelli was an investment banker and loved theater, running and gourmet cooking. Her five-foot nine, athletic figure often brought her offers to model, though she only occasionally took one. She worried that too much modeling would compromise her hard-earned MBA. Their friends all agreed they were the perfect New York couple.

In the beginning, they consumed one another with passion and sex. They kissed with a fury, their teeth often clicking together while their tongues intertwined. Although their lovemaking wasn’t kinky, it always included varied positions. Many times, they would collapse in sweet exhaustion only after the sun had risen. Their sex was ‘ask and you shall receive,’ kind of sex, and they both reveled in it. But Mark had detected a subtle change in Kelli’s desire in recent weeks.

“You want some breakfast?” he asked.

“Umm…In a bit.”

Mark rolled over next to her, slid his hand beneath the comforter and cupped her breast.

“Then shall I find a way to please you?”

She cradled his hand with hers and said, “No, I’m okay. But if you want to…” her voice trailing off in an unfinished thought.

Kelli’s disinterest in morning sex troubled him. He sat up, leaned back against the headboard and asked, “Are we okay, here?”

Kelli tilted her head toward him. She scrunched her face in a weak smile.

“You mean…like between us?”

“Well, yes. I’m feeling a little threatened when you turn down morning sex.”

Kelli rolled over, leaned against Mark and kissed his chest.

“Oh god, Mark, you don’t have to feel threatened,” she said. “I love you more than ever. I love having sex with you. It’s…well, it’s just that lately — oh hell, I don’t even know how to explain it to you.”

“Come on, no secrets, remember?”

“You’ll think I’m silly.”

“If you don’t want sex with me in the morning, silly is the last thing I’m thinking. Come on, tell me.”

Kelli forced another smile and said, “Okay, you know I love you more than anything, right?”

“Yes. I think we’ve established that.”

“Well, it’s just that — oh shit, this is going to sound bad. Let’s just forget about…”

Mark cut her off in mid-sentence. “Kelli, please.”

“Well…sometimes I — uh, think our sex has gotten, well, a little predictable.”

Mark puffed his chest, crossed his arms and stared at her in momentary silence.

“Predictable? Are you saying sex with me is…boring?” he asked

“Noooo, of course not. Goddamn it, I knew this wouldn’t go well.”

Slightly offended, Mark was enjoying watching Kelli squirm her way out of the corner she’d painted herself in.

“So what are you saying, then?” he persisted.

Kelli pulled her knees up, wrapped the comforter around her nakedness and curled up like a moth inside a cocoon.

“I mean, when we make love…it’s kind of the same routine lately,” she said. “I go down on you, you go down on me, and then we fuck. It’s…it’s still delicious – but not the same as it was. Don’t you feel like…like we lost some of the magic along the way?”

Mark pondered the question for a few moments. Although he’d always enjoyed making love with Kelli, she had a point.

“Let’s assume, for the sake of this conversation, that you’re right,” he asked. “How do you suggest we change things up, short of flying off to Antigua that is?”

Kelli was grinning. Mark couldn’t stay mad at her for very long and he knew she understood that.

“I don’t know, babes…but you’re the creative one here,” she teased. “Can’t you come up with something?”

Mark returned her smile, kissed her lips and said, “Okay, fair enough. But you can’t say no…to anything. Deal?”

“Deal.”

While they hadn’t moved in together, Mark and Kelli slept together three or four nights a week. Only their varied schedules kept them from enjoying one another nightly. It had been several days since Kelli’s ‘confession.’ Mark heard the door to his loft open.

“Kelli?” he shouted.

“Hi, hon. What are you doing?”

“Making dinner. Come into the kitchen and help me drink some wine.”

Kelli walked through the loft, dropping her coat and purse on the sofa, and then kicking off her shoes. Mark was standing escort eryaman at the stove, babysitting a bubbling pot of spaghetti sauce. She walked up behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist and peered over his shoulder.

“Umm! That smells good,” she said.

He kissed her and smiled.

“I thought a nice, big plate of pasta would get you carbed up for your morning run.”

“That’ll work. Now where’s the wine that needs my help?”

Kelli sat at the large dining table, sipping Chianti from a tall, fluted wine glass. Mark carried two heaping plates of pasta to the table, setting one in front of her.

“There you go,” he said proudly. “That sauce is a secret recipe that’s been handed down through four generations of my family.”

The smirk on his face instantly brought his credibility into question.

“Four generations?” Kelli quizzed.

“Okay, I got it from my Mom…but I’m sure someone else in my family invented it.”

They both laughed.

Mark knew the wine and homemade dinner would relax Kelli.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said the other morning,” he said.

“You-you mean that thing about our…sex life?” she asked. “Look, I don’t know why I even brought that up. I-I’m sorry I said…”

Mark shook his forefinger from side to side.

“Ah, ah, ah! I happen to think you’re right.”

“You do?”

Mark left the table and walked to his computer desk, saying, “I’ve done some research on sex therapy and it’s not uncommon for sex to become a little stale between otherwise happy partners. But I think I’ve found a remedy for our problem.”

“Mark, honey, we don’t have problem. I was just, you know…kind of thinking out loud, that’s all.”

He picked up a file folder and returned to the table.

“Pornography!” he exclaimed. “That’s what some sex experts recommend to restore the spark.”

“You mean you want me to watch pornography with you?” Kelli asked. “I don’t know, Mark. That’s a little weird. I-I don’t know if I can get into watching porn with you.”

“Oh no! We’re not going to watch it,” Mark laughed. “We’re going to star in it!”

Mark watched Kelli’s face grow suddenly serious while she tried to grasp his meaning. He handed the folder to her.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“I guess you could call it a screenplay. Read it.”

Mark studied her face with anxious delight as she read his script. Her eyebrows arched and relaxed repeatedly. She would smile, then emit a soft gasp or cover her mouth with her hand and giggle.

“Oh my god, Mark. Do you really expect me to go along with this?”

“You did asked me to get creative…and besides you agreed that ‘no’ was not an option.”

“But what about these props? Sexy costumes, vibrators? And…and flavored body oils? I don’t have any of that stuff.”

“Don’t you worry your little head about it, my dear. Come with me.”

Mark took Kelli’s hand and led her across the loft and into the bedroom.

“Oh… My…God!” she muttered.

Three tripod-mounted video cameras, with lights, were stationed along the sides and foot of the bed. Devoid of any top covers, the white, silk sheets and pillowcases were covered with bright, red rose petals. On the corner of the bed sat a gloss black, open-topped gift bag. Mark handed it to Kelli and said, “This is for you. Well, actually, it’s for both of us.”

Kelli sat on the edge of the bed and began sorting through the bag’s contents. She pulled out a bundle of red tissue paper, placed it on the bed and unfolded the multiple layers. Inside was a baby blue teddy. Holding it between her thumbs and forefingers, she lifted it in front of her and said, “Mark, it’s beautiful.”

“It has a matching thong,” he was quick to add.

“Hmmm…what else is in here?” she asked, fishing through the bag again.

Next, she held up a shiny, chrome tube. It was nearly seven inches long with a bullet-shaped tip and about two inches around.

“Talk about feeling threatened,” she said.

“Twist the knob on the bottom.”

The tube sprang to life, emitting a whirring noise and a high-speed vibration. Kelli rubbed it along her forearm.

“I’m afraid to ask what you intend to do with this thing,” she smiled.

She reached into the bag again and retrieved two bottles of flavored massage oil, one chocolate, and the other coconut.

“I see you’ve given this a great deal of thought,” she said.

“Why don’t you go change into the teddy while I fire up the cameras? It’s show time!”

Kelli studied the video equipment, her smile now more of a grimace.

“Oh, Mark honey — I, I don’t know if I can do this. I mean taping ourselves…”

“Trust me. Ignore the cameras and I know you’ll enjoy yourself,” Mark assured her. “Just think how sexy it will be to watch ourselves making love.”

“No one else will ever see this?”

“Of course not. When we’re done, the tapes are yours…a gift if you will.”

Kelli’s smile returned. She grabbed the teddy and the script and headed for the bathroom.

“You ankara escort are so bad.”

A few minutes later, she returned wearing the teddy and still studying the script. Mark had no doubt she would look gorgeous in the teddy, and his already excited cock sprang to life when she stood before him. Her devotion to running kept her body fat to a minimum, resulting in firm, round breasts with little visible sag. Her dime-sized nipples were clearly erect beneath the translucent negligee. The outline of a neatly trimmed mound of pubic hair was visible beneath the thong.

He took the script from her hand and said, “You look so hot. Why don’t you sit in the middle of the bed and act sexy while I turn on the cameras.”

Her facial expression was still somewhere between excitement and uncertainty.

“But I’m not sure — you know, that I have the script down yet,” she said.

“Don’t worry, you’ll do fine. I wrote it, remember?”

Her smile returned when she saw Mark’s erection poling-out his warm-ups like a small pup tent.

“I can see this idea is having its desired effect on you,” she teased.

Kelli slid to the middle of the bed. She treated this as though it were another modeling shoot. Sitting on her knees, she played before Mark’s cameras, tossing her head back and loosely shaking her shoulder length hair while Mark flitted from tripod to tripod. She focused on one camera, then the next, as she slowly ran her hands over her breasts. “Kelli, that’s so good…wait ’til you see this,” Mark said. “I knew you’d ace this scene.”

With all the cameras running, Mark stood at the foot of the bed and watched Kelli. He could see her relaxing and getting in to the role as she spread her legs slightly and placed her right hand on her pussy. With slow strokes, she massaged herself with one hand while licking the fingers of the other.

“Come on Mark, I want you to join me now,” she said.

Mark shuffled across the bed on his knees, put his arms around Kelli’s waist and began kissing her. His tongue tangled with hers and he could feel her pulling at his buttocks. She grabbed his cock through his warm-ups and fondled him.

“Oops! That’s not in the script, is it?” she asked coyly.

Mark pulled her tightly against him, ran his hands over her silk-covered breasts and grinned.

“A good director will always take a little improv whenever he can get it.”

“Are you a good director?”

“I guess we’re about to find out.”

Kelli pushed him on to his back and pulled off his warm-ups.

“This is my favorite scene, Mr. Director,” she cooed. ” I’ll follow the script as closely as I can.”

Holding the bottle of chocolate flavored oil, she kneeled along Mark’s left side, insuring the cameras would not miss her performance. She removed the cap, poured a generous portion of the aromatic lotion in her hands. After placing the bottle on the night table, she held Mark’s twitching erection firmly, sliding her hands along his shaft in alternating motions. With slow, measured strokes, she began masturbating him.

In her most seductive voice, she asked, “How am I doing so far, Mr. Director?”

“Good. Oh fuck! Real good,” he moaned.

With both her hands sliding up and down his glistening erection, Kelli began kissing and licking the head of his cock. After teasing his prick with her lips and tongue for a few minutes, she swallowed his chocolate-flavored dick nearly to the hilt.

“Oh god, Kelli, that — that’s amazing,” Mark said.

She could feel his hand on the back of her head as she fucked him with her mouth and throat. He started thrusting his cock upwards, seeking more of her pleasure as he neared orgasm.

“Oh fuck, Kelli, I’m going to come.”

Kelli sealed her lips around the head of his cock. She pumped him with her hands until streams of hot semen erupted against the roof of her mouth. She didn’t immediately swallow the warm ejaculate, instead allowing it to puddle up on her tongue. When his pulsing finally subsided, she opened her mouth, allowing his juices to slowly drip down his glazed shaft. With long, tender flicks of her tongue, she reclaimed her prize, swallowing every drop she had milked from him.

“God, I love chocolate,” she purred.

“Jesus Christ, babes! That was—the best! I—I thought I was going to come forever,” Mark groaned.

“So did I pass the audition?”

“Oh yeah. Great first act.”

Mark pulled her down on top of him and kissed her tenderly.

“See, I knew you would enjoy this,” he said.

“I, I can’t believe how alive this makes me feel. You’re a genius, Mark.”

“We’re just getting started. Act two is my lead,” he smiled. “Do you remember what to do next?”

“Yes, but are you sure you want to pose like that? It reads kind of weird in the script.”

“You just called me a genius, remember? Besides, you have a beautiful ass and a gorgeous pussy. It’ll be a great scene.”

After Kelli kissed him with short peck on the lips, Mark climbed off the bed to watch elvakent escort her from the camera’s angle. Again, her modeling experience began to control her actions. Kelli lazily pulled her knees beneath herself, spread her legs and raised her ass in the air. Mark viewed her through the camera at the foot of the bed and provided more direction while his erection returned to its full measure.

“That’s really nice, Kelli. Goddamn, you have one fine ass,” he murmured, “now push the thong aside and touch yourself.”

Kelli hooked the lacy strap of the thong with her finger and pulled it out of the way. Mark had a clear view of the glistening lips and burgundy-tinted slit of her pussy. As her fingers massaged her wetness, glimpses of pink, inner flesh were briefly exposed, only to conceal themselves again when her hand pulled away. Mark grabbed the gift bag and removed the chrome dildo. He applied a liberal coating of the coconut-flavored body oil to it and turned it on. Kelli looked back toward Mark when she heard the ominous whirring sound. He could see she wasn’t smiling quite as much.

“Don’t worry, babes. If you don’t like any of this, all you have to do is say stop, okay?” he said.

“All right. Just go easy at first.”

Mark hopped back on the bed and moved close enough to Kelli to rub his cock against her thigh. He ran his hand across her ass and said, “Damn, Kelli, you are so fucking sexy right now. This whole thing is such a turn on.”

Kelli said nothing as she shifted nervously from one knee to the other. Mark first placed the dildo on her thigh, running up to her ass in long, easy strokes. After several minutes, he guided the vibrator between her legs, applying gentle pressure to her pussy. The well-lubricated probe gently widened her slit, exposing her inner flesh. Mark probed her womanhood with the narrow tip of the dildo, inserting it into her with small, loving moves. When he rested it on her clit, she began to moan and writhe.

“Oh my god, Mark.”

“Are you okay? Shall I stop for a while?”

“No! No…whatever you do, don’t stop.”

Mark smiled. He continued to fondle Kelli’s pussy with the vibrator, concentrating on her clit. She started to thrust herself against the tingling bullet, trying to fuck it as she neared her orgasm.

“Tell me what you want, babes and I’ll do it,” Mark whispered to her.

“Oh god, I’m going to come. Oh fuck, Mark…stick it in me. I want to feel it all the way in.”

Mark probed her dripping flesh until the narrow tip of the vibrator rested in her opening. He could hear her breathing hard, the kind of breathing he hears when she’d return from a run. When he fully inserted the toy, a loud, slow breath gushed from her.

“I—I’m going to come so…so fucking hard, Mark,” she screamed.

When the first rush of her orgasm rocked through her, Kelli clamped her legs tightly together and rolled on to her back. While still applying pressure to the dildo, Mark put his mouth on her clit, sucking and lightly nipping her aroused bud. She pulled his head against her pussy in a frenzied panic as her orgasm exploded though her.

“Ahhh…Mark! Oh my –my god. You’ve got to stop… be-before I explode,” she screamed, laughing.

Mark lifted his oil-glazed face from her pussy, smiled and said, “God, I love coconut.”

Mark quickly removed the vibrator from Kelli’s pussy and rolled on top of her. He kissed her lips and said, “Shall we begin Act Three?”

She answered him with a crushing, passion-rich kiss. Mark drove his cock into her with one singular thrust.

“Fuck me hard, Mark. I need you to fuck me really hard and come inside me,” she cried out, wrapping her legs around his hips.

***

Mark popped the tape into his VCR and returned to the couch. Kelli sat next to him, fidgeting with her wine glass.

“You seem a little jumpy,” Mark said.

“I am, but I don’t know why,” she confessed. “That was the best sex we’ve ever had but I’m still a little freaked out at watching myself doing it.”

“The tape turned out so good,” Mark said. “I had a hard on the whole time I was editing it.”

“One tape? I thought you had three cameras?”

“I did. I took the best shots from all three and made this master. Are you ready?”

Kelli nodded her head, took a long sip from her wine and said, “Let’s see how we did.”

Once Mark hit the play button on the remote control, Kelli was mesmerized by the images. She held his hand and began fondling his knuckles in anxious anticipation.

“Jesus, this is so weird,” she said, watching herself touch her own pussy. “I’m feeling embarrassed and turned on at the same time.”

“I know. I’ve got a serious erection watching this with you. The tape gets much better.”

She took several large gulps of wine and gripped Mark’s hand even tighter.

Kelli shifted around in her seat and placed her hand over her mouth as she watched herself performing oral sex on Mark.

“Oh my god, Mark. This is like seeing a train wreck…you know you shouldn’t watch but you can’t help yourself.”

When she saw Mark’s juices ooze from her mouth, she rubbed his cock.

“Jesus! This is amazing. I can’t believe that’s me doing that,” she whispered. “I never expected the cameras to be such a turn-on.”

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

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

We are at a mutual friend’s party, we have talked a little here and there, just a typical house party, drinking and flirting, most people came with their intended, so it would appear that you and I are the only ones not already hooked up.

The party has dragged on, all the couples are doing couple things and you are kinda wandering the house, when you wander into the “gameroom” you can hear someone playing pool as you enter, as you go around the corner you see it is me, just shooting alone. You ask if you can play, and I say “of course”, and begin to rack the balls.

We play one game then two, each of us winning one, drinking more and getting very comfortable around each other, I keep peaking around your tank top type shirt and staring at your ass when you shoot, your denim shorts riding up your beautiful muscular legs, and we both know that you’ve caught me more than once.

As we get ready to play a third game you say “why not make this interesting, lets bet on the game.” I say “what do you wanna bet?” “How about the loser has to do whatever the winner says?” To which I heartily agree.

As the game goes on you begin to attempt to ditract me, sliding your hand up and down your cue, I ask “what do you know about that?” “I’ve rubbed a stick or two in my time” you answer. This leads us into a discussion on masturbation, with you asking “how often do you jerk off” “well that depends on the inspiration, and how good I have done on the dating front lately, right now I’d say I have plenty of inspiration, and how I do tonight is yet to be seen.”

The game continues, we each have one ball left and the eight ball, as you get ready to shoot I am again standing behind you, staring at that perfect ass, and just as you get ready to shoot, I ask “so how often do you masturbate?”

This affects your concentration, you miss, and look over your shoulder with a wicked grin “you did that on purpose didn’t you?” “Of course not” I say.

I get ready to shoot, an easy, short, straight short shot, escort eryaman as I take aim and prepare to shoot you say “I just masturbated in the bathroom upstairs” you sniff your hand then say “in fact, my hand still smells like me. Wanna smell??” I take aim, and sink the shot, and look back over my shoulder at you with a wicked grin and say “I’ll smell after I sink the eight ball, ok?”

I walk over to the cue ball and take aim at the eight, a fairly easy shot, which is good because my rising erection is causing me great discomfort, as I take aim, you walk over to the pocket I am aiming at, stand with your back to it, which puts your ass right at table level, you bend over at the waist and say “wanna sink something here?” I answer with a resounding slamming of the eight into the pocket, game over.

I walk over to you, you look at me and say “looks like you won” I say yeah, take you in my arms and kiss you passionately, the heat that had been building for the last hour and a half of talking, drinking and playing spilling out. As you feel my now fully erect penis pushing against your abdomen you ask “so what do I have to do?”

I step away and say, “how about showing me how you masturbate?”

Your response is to step away from me, pull up your shirt exposing your beautiful tits and begin massaging them, tweaking your nipples, I can just see them harden immediately, then you push your tits up to your mouth one at a time and lick your nipples.

I begin squeezing my erection through my jean shorts, fully erect, and seeming to not stop growing as I get the show of a lifetime.

You then unzip your shorts and just let them fall to the floor and step out of them, now standing in front of me in just your top, which is pushed up over your tits and a matching blue thong, you start massaging your pussy through your thong, then putting your fingers in your mouth, then reaching down again pushing your thong aside and just pushing your fingers into your pussy, pulling them out I can see the ankara escort moisture on them, and you again lick them off. Then you turn around, putting that awesome ass towards me you bend at the waist and reach back and begin to finger fuck yourself with your right hand as you massage your clit with your left, you quickly bring yourself to orgasm.

When you regain your composure you turn around to find that I am standing there, now completely naked, with my dick in my hand, jerking off, you smile and say “gonna waste that or use it over here?” I respond by walking over to you, you drop to your knees and lovingly take my dick in your right hand and kiss it from the head to the base and back to the head, then you put your right hand under my balls, cupping and massaging them, and suddenly plunge your mouth over my cock, and within 2 strokes have totally engulfed my 7 inches, and are slowly working my dick, stroking it with your throat, your tongue swirling around the length of my shaft. After the show you put on earlier and the glorious sensations I am feeling I can’t take anymore, and I come and come and come, as you swallow every drop.

I join you on the floor, we kiss, I begin to massage your tits and quickly move my mouth to your nipples and begin to nibble and suck on them, ensuring that they are hard and not to be forgotten, going back and forth from one nipple to the other, scraping my teeth across your nipples and nibbling, slowly sliding my right hand down your flat stomach to your pussy, running my fingers just over your labia, but not penetrating, slowly over and over again, until your hips begin to undulate and you beg me, “please please??” I then slowly insert one finger, into your tight, hot and wet pussy, your hips are pumping at twice the pace my finger is working, so I slowly slide in another. I then slowly lower my face to your beautiful snatch, and while I continue to fingerfuck you I begin to nibble on your labia, then slowly work my way up to your clit, elvakent escort nibbling it, flicking it with my tongue until I feel the waves of orgasm begin to build in you, and then release in a flood of your love juices down my face and chin, and down the crack of your assI slowly kiss my way back up your body, your flat stomach, using my tongue to fuck your navel momentarily, then up, up to those tits again, nibbling and sucking each nipple until they are rock hard again. Then up again, stopping at your neck where I nibble and chew on the nape of your neck, and up again until we are kissing very passionately.

As we continue to kiss I slowly slide my once again rock hard cock into your pussy, and begin to slowly pump in and out of you pussy, with short strokes, building pace and length of the strokes into your tight hott pussy, I reach around and grab your ass with both hands massaging and kneading your ass as we fuck, you thrusting your hips up to meet my every thrust, which just makes my balls slap against your ass even harder and harder. I continue to pump in and out of your pussy as the wetness runs down the crack of your ass I now feel it on my hands as they knead your asscheeks, so I use the wetness and slowly slide a finger into your bunghole, you respond to this by coming all over my dick, “oh make me come” you say. I continue to pump as you attempt to regain your composure.

You compose yourself, and say “roll over” and of course I comply. Now, on my back, you position your self over me and say “really like my ass don’t you? Well try this.” And with that you slowly lower your asshole onto my engorged dick, which now feels bigger and harder than it’s ever been before. As you lower yourself inch by inch onto my cock the tightness and hotness of your ass is overwhelming, I use my right hand to begin to massage your clit as you slowly begin to work your way up and down my hardness, until you have engulfed my entire cock with your ass. You look amazing bouncing on my erection, your tits perfection, your face twisted in the throes of impending orgasm, as I say “I am gonna come” and as I shoot my load in your ass you too orgasm again, shaking from head to toe, as I am also, as I seem to come for an hour, you collapse on me, exhausted.

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“Anthony, wake up!! Movie’s done,” Sonya said, shaking me awake.

I woke up and saw the ending credits of the indie movie we had downloaded moving up the screen.

“Oh, Sonya, I’m sorry,” I told her, groggily. “Guess I was pretty tired.”

“That’s okay, it wasn’t that great…you seen one zombie movie, you’ve seen ’em all,” Sonya said, turning off the big screen TV. She maneuvered her wheelchair and started toward the kitchen, then stopped, turning it back towards me.

“Oh, my mother wants to talk to you before you go home. She told me to make sure you talk to her – go knock on her door.”

“What about?” I asked, furiously wracking my brain for anything I’d done wrong. I couldn’t think of anything.

“She wants to tell you herself,” Sonya said, mysteriously.

“Am I in trouble?” I asked, worriedly.

Sonya smiled. “Definitely NOT in trouble.”

“So you know what she’s going to say?” I asked.

“Oh yes, I know,” Sonya said, nodding her head slowly.

“You can’t give me a hint?” I asked.

“Just go see my mother,” Sonya said. “She’s waiting to talk to you.”

“Okay, I’m going,” I said. “One hint?”

Exasperated, Sonya shook her head.

“No hints,” she told me, firmly. “I will tell you one thing, though.”

“What?” I asked

“You’ll probably like what she has to say – that’s all I’m going to say about it,” Sonya said.

“I’ll go,” I told her. “You want to come?”

“Nope,” Sonya said. “I’m going to bed. I’m so tired.”

As if to prove her point, Sonya yawned hugely. I watched her stretch, her muscular arms reaching up as high as she could reach.

“Okay, I’ll let myself out when we’re done talking,” I assured her. “Go get some rest.”

I walked over to her and bent down to kiss her. Sonya wrapped her arms around my neck and returned the kiss, her lips soft against mine, her mouth welcoming my tongue. We kissed for several more minutes; I could feel my cock getting hard in my jeans.

“Wow,” Sonya said, as we pulled apart. She was as affected by the kiss as I was. From her wheelchair, Sonya’s line of sight was just a little above crotch level. She recognized my plight immediately. She reached out her hand and stroked my hard-on through the denim. I let out a sigh of pleasure and closed my eyes. Sonya continued rubbing me for another minute or so and then stopped. I opened my eyes and looked at down at her face. Sonya was staring at my bulging fly with a wistful, sad expression. When she looked up and saw me watching her, her smile brightened and all traces of sadness disappeared.

“Go see my mom,” Sonya said. “NOW.”

“Okay, I’m going, I’m going…! Goodnight,” I said. “I’ll be back around five tomorrow,” I told her, glancing at my watch. It was almost midnight.

“Goodnight…see you tomorrow,” she said cheerily as she wheeled her chair around my and rolled down the hallway to her bedroom. I watched the wheels disappear into her bedroom, and the bedroom door shut behind her.

I stopped in the bathroom to take a leak and splash some cold water on my face. I wanted to be completely cool before I talked to Sonya’s mom. It wouldn’t look so great to march in her room with my dick sticking straight out of my crotch, I thought. I looked in the mirror critically and smoothed my dark hair from over my eyes. I looked decent, I figured. People looked at me all the time because I was good looking: Wavy, dark brown hair, hazel eyes, a regular nose, a square jaw and full lips – I was told I looked like a young Warren Beatty. Girls stared, some of them bold enough to hand me their phone numbers before running off to giggle with their friends. Since I’d gotten my license last year, I’d met and screwed a dozen of these empty-headed little fluffs. I’d gotten pretty tired of meeting girls – most of them were shallow, materialistic, stupid or just little bitches. I looked down. My hard-on had deflated the crotch of my jeans back to normal.

I washed my hands, my mind full of Sonya. I’d met her at the downtown library. Sonya was incredibly lovely, her strawberry blonde hair cut short like a pixie, framing her delicate features, her dark blue eyes that looked around her with lively interest, and often, amusement. As I drew closer to her, I could see that her skin that was dusted liberally with freckles. I’d been compelled to talk to her. And I did.

“So, how much longer until you can get out of that chair?” I’d asked, with my most charming smile.

She’d looked up at me, bemused.

“Never,” she said. “I’m paralyzed from the chest down.”

She said that so pleasantly, that I wasn’t sure what I’d heard.

“I’m sorry?” I asked.

“I’m paralyzed,” she repeated, louder. “So, never.”

I’d stuck my foot in my mouth, I realized.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, “It’s just that you look so pretty, so positive-looking, you know – ” I stopped myself from further idiocy.

“That you didn’t think I could be a paraplegic?” she asked, without rancor.

“Well, yeah,” I said. “Stupid assumption.”

Time for her to turn eryamanda yeni escortlar tail and escape, I thought. Idiot!

“No problem,” she said, putting her hand out. “By the way, I’m Sonya.”

I grabbed her hand and kissed it. Corny, I know, but it felt right.

“Anthony, book freak and library geek,” I said, making an expansive arm gesture at the bookshelves all around us.

I shook my head, ruefully, I’d become so enthralled with this little fairy that I had to cart around her wheelchair every place we went, put her in the chair, take her back out of the chair, check her catheter levels…and it was all so very worth it. I had never met anyone like Sonya. Smart. Intelligent. Funny. Positive. Open. Fun-loving.

Closing the bathroom door behind me, I headed to the room across from Sonya’s and knocked.

“Mrs. Lebedev?” I spoke through the door.

The door opened, and Sonya’s mom ushered me into her bedroom. Mrs. Lebedev was definitely an attractive woman – and she knew it. I guessed she was in her early 40s or so, but she looked younger. She was tiny, like her daughter, barely reaching my chin. Her hair was a pale blonde, but her eyes were the same dark blue as Sonya’s. But, where Sonya was tiny everywhere, her mother was voluptuous. She was wearing a long t-shirt that was snug over her breasts and only fell to mid-thigh. I felt my cock stirring in my pants. Panicking, I thought if the most horrific and gruesome thoughts I could summon. War, corpses, people on fire, piranhas feasting, tarantulas…I let out a small sigh of relief as I could feel my erection fail.

“Hello, Anthony…thank you for coming to talk to me,” Mrs. Lebedev said in her heavy Russian accent. She sat on the ottoman in the corner of her room. “Please, sit down for a moment so we can talk a little.” She gestured to the chair directly in front of the ottoman.

I walked to the chair and sat down and she swiveled around to talk to me. She was uncomfortably close to me, her knees almost touching mine.

“I guess you’ve been wondering what I wanted to talk to you about?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Yes, I’ve been wondering…although Sonya told me I wasn’t in trouble or anything,” I said.

Mrs. Lebedev laughed.

“Oh, no, not in trouble…! In fact, is just the opposite.” Mrs. Lebedev beamed at me. “I just want to tell you I’m happy you are seeing my daughter. Sonya has not had many boyfriends. Is hard for her to be in wheelchair. Not many boys want to go out with girl in wheelchair.”

I nodded, sympathetically.

“But, YOU…you have been very good to my daughter. You take her places. She is much, much happier since she has met you,” Mrs. Lebedev said, earnestly.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that,” I said, feeling self-conscious from all the praise. “Sonya’s an amazing girl.”

“Yes, she is. But if nobody is interested in girl who is handicapped, nobody finds out what a beautiful girl she is. Except for you. YOU.” Mrs. Lebedev said again.

I smiled, but said nothing.

“In fact, when Sonya went to visit her father, she told him about you,” he mother went on.

I stiffened. Her father? All I knew about Sonya’s father was that he was with the Russian mob or something.

“I hope it was GOOD things,” I joked, weakly.

“Of course, only GOOD things,” Mrs. Lebedev assured me. “But Sonya’s father is – let’s say – protective of her. So he got some information about you and asked around.”

I felt a momentary stab of fear and then squelched it. I hadn’t done anything to worry about, I thought. I HOPED.

“He said you seem to be good guy,” Mrs. Lebedev assured me. “He told me to tell you to take Sonya to meet him on Wednesday night. He will be at the club. Sonya will tell you how to get there. At 7:00.”

“Oh, okay…I’ll be happy to meet him,” I said. “But, Sonya doesn’t talk much about him, I don’t know much about him. What’s he like, Mrs. Lebedev?”

“Call me Daria,” she said. “Please.”

“Thank you – umm, Daria,” I said.

“What is he like?” her face turned somber. “Is hard for me to describe. He loves Sonya very much. But he can be hard man. His work…” she trailed off.

Neither of us said anything for a moment.

“Maybe I can describe him another way,” she told me, slowly. “Do you know why Sonya is in wheelchair? Why she is paralyzed for rest of her life?”

“Well, she told me she was shot in the spine when she was eight years old. When she was playing outside,” I said.

“That is what happened,” Daria said. “Did she tell you anything else?”

“No, that’s all she said,” I said.

“Well, what happened is that my older brother, Alex – you have not met him – anyway, my older brother was mixed up with bad people. You know,” she said, looking at me.

I nodded.

“Anyway, my older brother owed money that he could not pay back. My husband let him stay with us even though he did not approve of him. But, because he was my brother, he permitted him to live in the basement,” Daria paused a moment, remembering. “The sincan escort bayan day she was shot, I was at the grocery store. I left Sonya with my brother. And while I was gone, those men came for my brother…he managed to hide from them…”

“But Sonya did not,” I finished for her.

“Right,” Daria said. “Sonya got shot in the spine and was paralyzed. When I came home, police said they’d already taken her to hospital. I called my husband and told him what happened. He met me at hospital. He was very angry with me. He said it was my fault Sonya was paralyzed. Because I asked to have my brother live with us.”

Daria stopped talking, lost in her memories. I stayed silent, not wanting to interrupt. She started up again.

“Anyway, Viktor – Sonya’s father – had had my brother picked up and they beat him. Almost to death. It took him months to heal, but he is okay. But he moved out of state,” Daria said. “That was Alex’s punishment. For ME, I had different punishment. First, Viktor told me he was divorcing me and taking custody of Sonya…”

I murmured sympathetically, not knowing what to say.

“And second…second…” Daria said, slowly, “second, he had me put into a brothel for four years. I could not leave. I had many, many customers. In four years…many, many customers.”

I was speechless with horror for the poor woman. I patted her knee.

“But, that was my punishment, and I deserved it for not watching out for our daughter. For letting this horrible injury ruin her for life,” Daria said, her voice sounding firmer. “Anyway, that is the kind of man Viktor is. He loves Sonya and is very protective of her. So when you meet him on Wednesday, just be honest and be respectful. You are doing very good to make her happy, very, very good.”

“Thank you for telling me this,” I told her, gently. “It is helpful for me to know that and to make sure I act properly on Wednesday.”

“Yes, I am sure you will. Viktor will be good to you as long as you are good to Sonya. And I don’t see any reason for you to worry,” Daria said. “And, also, Anthony, Viktor can be very generous when it will benefit Sonya…so don’t be surprised if he gives many gifts to you.”

“Really…?” I mused.

“Oh, yes,” Daria said. “I didn’t tell you that story about Sonya’s father to scare you.”

“Oh?” I laughed. “Well, it did. A bit,” I admitted.

“Actually, I told you that story to explain the real reason I asked you to talk to me tonight,” she said.

“So, Sonya’s father isn’t the real reason,” I said.

“No,” Daria said.

Then she was silent for a few moments.

“I love my daughter. I spent those four years taking my punishment and waiting to get out again to see her. Viktor filed for joint custody when I came home. He has never referred to those years. But he has never come back, either. But he was kind enough to let me stay in this house and let me have my daughter back…” she said. “It has been hard for her, to be paralyzed. To have to be in wheelchair all the time. She has not had many friends. And you are the first boyfriend who has been patient with her. It’s not easy to have to bring her wheelchair and lift her all the time. And boys – well, why go through all the trouble of having a handicapped girlfriend? They do not stay for long.”

Daria grabbed my hands in hers and looked me in the eye.

“I am thankful to see my daughter so happy. It is because of you. I have never seen her this happy since she was eight years old. Almost a decade…!” Daria said, her voice husky with emotion. “I will do anything to keep her happy.”

Daria had pulled my hands closer to her until they were clasped on her lap.

“Another reason Sonya’s boyfriends leave her is because they cannot have sex with her,” she said, her eyes still locked with mine.

I looked away, embarrassed. I had been frustrated, as well, but I had dealt with it as best I could. Porn, lotion and my hand.

“It is important, sex is important. THAT I know. Especially with young men. That is all that is on their minds, most of the time. Sex, sex, and more sex. And if they can’t have sex with Sonya, they will find it somewhere else,” Daria said, matter-of-factly.

I was beginning to understand where she was going with all this.

“I don’t want her to lose YOU because of sex,” Daria said. “I learned lots of things during those four years. I became very good at pleasing my customers. I learned to enjoy my work, even.”

Daria pulled my hands toward her until they were under her night shirt and pressed against the moist heat of her crotch. She was not wearing panties.

“Sonya and I have talked about this. She knows what I am offering to you. And why. She agrees with me that it will be a good thing for you to be able to have sex if you are my boyfriend. Even if it is with me instead of Sonya,” Daria said.

She was slowly grinding her pussy against my hand, now. My cock was fully hard, now, and straining against my jeans.

“So, Anthony, I know it is my daughter ankara escort that you care for…but would this be an acceptable situation for you? To have sex with me?”

Oh, more than acceptable, I thought, lust clouding my thoughts. But, still, I couldn’t do that. Could I? No, I couldn’t do that. I had to decline. I extricated my hands from between her thighs, regretfully.

“Of course it would be acceptable, Mrs. Lebedev – ” I started.

“DARIA,” she insisted.

” – Daria.” I said. “But I care about Sonya. I don’t HAVE to have sex with her. And you don’t have to have sex with me to keep me seeing her. I’ve been here for the last three months – I’m not going anywhere. I can take care of myself. You know…”

Daria laughed, a throaty, sexy laugh that sent a chill down my spine and electrified my groin.

“Anthony, it is not a – umm, how do you say it? – a SACRIFICE for me to have sex with you. It would be a pleasure for me as well as for you…I don’t offer this only because I feel that I HAVE to. I also WANT to. And I am much better than you taking care of yourself,” Daria said, seductively. “Or, is it that you don’t find me attractive?”

“Of course I do,” I said. “You’re very attractive. And I would like to, but -“

“That’s more like it,” Daria interrupted, putting her fingers against my lips.

“Yes, but -“I said, before she shushed me again.

Daria stood up in front of me and pulled her nightshirt over her head. She stood completely naked only inches away. Her breasts were large, but firm, the pink tips perkily erect and pointing straight ahead. Her waist was small, just the barest hint of stretch marks to reveal she’d ever borne a child. Her hips were narrow, but voluptuously rounded. Daria reached for my hands again and this time, she placed them one upon each of her breasts. They did not fit in my hands, they were too big. I felt her nipples hardening even more under my palms.

“Is nice, Anthony,” Daria murmured, allowing me to caress her breasts a little longer.

Daria grabbed my hands again, pressing them against her breasts while she sunk to her knees between my legs. She released my hands and started working my belt and pants. In a moment, my rock-hard shaft popped out of its restraints.

Daria smiled at the sight.

“Ah, you are very blessed, aren’t you, Anthony?” she teased, grasping the shaft cock in her right hand. “A nice cock. Eighteen years old, yes? A very nice cock.”

Daria leaned down and I could feel her tongue move up and down my taut skin, front, back, left, right, she lapped at my balls, then sucked them into her mouth, slowly and lovingly. I closed my eyes and let Daria work her oral magic on me. She was not kidding. I felt sensations down there I’d never even knew existed. When she slipped the tip of her tongue into my ass, I started and tried to scoot back, but she held unto my ass cheeks and dove in even deeper.

“MmmHhhmm,” she mumbled into my backside. Along with her comforting strokes upon my buttocks, I figured she was trying to tell me to relax. So, I did. And experienced such pleasure at the touch of her tongue and lips on every inch of flesh down there that I was thought I’d died and gone to heaven.

Daria must have spent at least a half an hour servicing me with her lips and talented tongue, bringing me to the brink of orgasm, then slowly dialing it down again several times. I barely knew my name by the time she clambered atop my lap and lowered herself onto my shaft. Immediately, the muscles inside of her began rippling, lightning fast, upward then downward, like a concert pianist performing arpeggios on the piano. I gasped aloud as her pussy squeezed and loosened its grip on my imprisoned cock.

Finally, I could no longer stand the intense pleasure. I gripped her hips, stood up, turned around and placed her ass on the armchair, draping her legs over my shoulders. I thrust deeply inside of her grasping cunt, each stroke harder than the one before. I was gratified to hear her harsh breathing, her incoherent words urging me on.

Finally, she let out a long, rising moan and climaxed, her pussy pulsing around my shaft and triggering my own orgasm. I groaned loudly and pumped my seed into Daria, shuddering as I filled her cunt with my sperm. As I emptied the last spurt of jism into her, I collapsed on top of her, our bodies slippery, slick with sweat.

The full length of my body was stretched out on Daria’s tiny form as we lie together, exhausted and breathless.

I heard the familiar sounds of wheels crossing the floor. I turned my head to see Sonya approaching us. Quickly, I slipped my flaccid cock out of her mother’s sopping pussy and sat up, smoothing my sweat-soaked hair back from my face. Next to me, Daria was also settling into a sitting position and watching her daughter.

Daria was telling me the truth, right? Sonya was okay with me fucking her mother? The question, now, seemed ludicrous. How could she be okay? I scanned Sonya’s face, but her expression was unreadable. Sonya stopped right in front of us. I felt the need to babble out apologies and explanations and throw myself at her mercy.

“Sonya, I -” I began.

Sonya reached out and grabbed my slimy, soft cock in her right hand, squeezing it almost painfully in her grip. She watched my reaction.

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

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

“I’m taking off. Are you staying?” my friend questioned me.

“Yea, go ahead;” I replied with a big smile, “I’m having too much fun.”

“Don’t do anything I would do,” she said smiling back before leaving.

I had gone out to a local bar with a close female friend for a few drinks and conversation. We had intended on it being a low-key night. But when we arrived at the normally relaxed bar, we found there to be a rowdy crowd of young men. We sat at a distance at first but eventually two of them ventured over and invited us to join them. They were all out celebrating the birthday of their friend, Chase. He was the last of them to finally turn 21.

Now my friend wasn’t much into younger guys so she was less enthused than I. Most of them were actually older than the birthday boy but only by a few years. They had asked me my age and I had them guess. “28,” the one guy shouted out just as his friend replied with, “26”.

“Now take the average,” I told them. “27,” they shouted proudly toasting each other. And I allowed them to believe that they had correctly calculated my age.

I really had my eye on one of the guys that had originally invited us over. But as I continued to drink and party with them I got the distinct impression that there existed a unanimous campaign to get me to go home with the birthday boy. He was a cutie; but a touch too young for my taste. Then I commented to myself how I had never actually done someone a full decade younger. Suddenly the idea gained appeal. We closed the bar down at 2am and I left with Chase.

“Do you live alone?” I asked in a whisper as we entered the apartment which was actually the upstairs portion of a duplex. “Nah,” he told me, “But my roommate is out of town.”

Once in his room we were on the bed and losing clothes quickly. I pushed him down and climbed on top of him, first sliding down his body to take his dick in my mouth. He moaned and told me I better stop. Pulling me up from that position with one hand he fumbled for a condom with the other. Once situated, I pulled myself up to a sitting position. Straddling his body eryamandaki escortlar I slammed by pussy down onto his cock. He was pretty thick so it was a bit of a tight fit which he commented on. Placing my hands on his chest I bounced my ass up and down quickly pumping my pussy with that thick dick. Then he came. It had only been a few minutes. He apologized for his quick performance before promptly passing out. I was admittedly a bit disappointed but honestly hadn’t been expecting anything terribly impressive from a drunk 21 year old. I drank too much myself to drive home, so although against my preference I was spending the night. I crawled under the covers with him and masturbated myself to orgasm before falling asleep.

It was only an hour or two later when I woke, terribly thirsty. I didn’t want to wake him so I just made my way to the kitchen for a drink. We had passed through on our way in and I remembered seeing a case of bottled water on the table. I didn’t even care if it was cold or not.

I had finished almost half the bottle when I was startled by the opening of the door to outside. In stepped a man about 6’2 with broad shoulders and an athletic build. He was older than me but probably not by much I assumed. He had a full head of thick brown hair and a magnificent smile as he, in a startled tone spoke to me, “Well hello!”

“Hello,” I replied back feeling a little embarrassed as I stood there in Chase’s boxers and a t-shirt that I had picked up off his floor. “You must be a friend of Chase’s?” he asked. I paused for a moment before responding affirmatively and then asking, “You must be…his roommate?”

There was that smile again. “Um…well, you could say that,” he said. There was an awkward moment of silence while we stared at each other before he added, “I’m his father.”

I nearly choked on the water I had been casually sipping. “Don’t worry about,” he said as he appropriately interpreted my nervous expression. “We often pass ourselves off as roommates or brothers,” he added. “Most people guess Chase for a little older and me for a little younger,” he continued etimesgut bayan escort with his explanation. “Yea,” I finally spoke, “You don’t look old enough to have a son that is 21.” He smiled and informed me, “I turned 41 last week.”

And I thought to myself, “Hmmm. I have never had a man a full decade older either.”

“So you look a little older than 21,” he commented to me. I agreed that I was. He asked my age and of course I made him guess. “27,” he stated firmly. “Very good,” I told him with a smile. After-all, that was the age I went with earlier and I figured that we mine as well keep it consistent between father and son.

Speaking of keeping things consistent between father and son…

“Would you like a cold one?” he asked motioning towards my now empty bottled water. “Sure. Thank you,” I responded. He removed a bottle from the fridge and walked toward me. His age was a bit more apparent up close but as his sexy eyes stared down at me I found myself less interested in that water. As if reading my mind, he set the bottle on the counter next to me. Sliding his hand through the front of those boxers that I had thrown on, I felt his hand lightly touch my pussy. His hand was cold from holding the water. It felt good. With his other hand he grabbed one of mine and placed it on the bulge that had grown in his pants. The nervous, excited anticipation was pumping through my body and then he spoke. “You’re a little slut aren’t you,” he asked and I looked up to him before he continued, “You picked up my son at a bar, came home with him, and yet here you are wanting to fuck his father too.” What could I say? It was true and he had begun rubbing my pussy causing it to grow extremely wet. “Am I wrong?” he quested me. I unbuttoned his jeans and slowly slid down the zipper. He smiled as I slid my hand into his pants to pull out his cock. His size wasn’t quite as impressive as his son’s had been but he was sober so I suspected the performance would be better. Besides, the idea a fucking an attractive father and son pair in one night had me ankara escort so intensely aroused; it was intoxicating.

We stood there for a minute or so, him rubbing my pussy and me stroking his cock. He finally broke the silence by asking, “So, do you want to fuck?” I looked up at him with wanton eyes that clearly expressed my desire. He pulled the t-shirt off over my head. He paused, staring at my tits before grasping them in each of his large, strong hands. He squeezed them firmly before sliding his right hand upwards and stopped, resting lightly around my neck. “First, get on your knees, he demanded.” I did as I was told and he promptly pushed his dick between my lips. I was able to take him fully into my mouth. He responded with a moan but allowed me only a minute to demonstrate my skills before pulling out from my mouth and announcing, “Let’s go.” Grabbing my by the hand he pulled my down the hallway and past Chase’s room on the right, past the bathroom on the left and into a room at the end of the hallway.

He pushed me put against the bed face first, bending me over and nearly tearing from me Chase’s boxers. He slammed into me from behind. My pussy was so wet, cum ran down both my inner thighs and legs. I was moaning loudly before I remembered Chase, just down the hall. When I stopped making noise he turned me around, grabbed me and threw me onto the bed. Pulling me to the end of the bed he lifted my legs together in one strong, tight grip and continued to fuck me like that. OH, that was good, I mumbled to myself as he entered me again. I had already cum twice when he decided to spread my legs, keeping them up in the air, one in each hand. Pushing them back as far as they would go (which is pretty far because I’m rather flexible) he leaned over me and continued to pound my pussy in an angry fashion until he came.

My legs were shaky as I exited that room and ventured down the hallway back to Chase’s. I wasn’t drunk any more but I was exhausted. I quietly snuck in the room and tossed his boxers and t-shirt onto the floor where I had found them. I looked at him, peacefully sleeping in the bed and briefly contemplated passing out beside him. But then I imagined the morning, being there with the both of them awake and together; Chase not knowing that I had fucked his father after he had fallen asleep. Yes…that would be awkward. I picked up my clothes, dressed and left.

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

Those of you who’ve read my posts know that I’m not a fan of second-person voice stories – those that say “you did this, and you said this,” sort of thing. However, this one just seems to have demanded that, since it’s how I think of it, and it’s how it happened.

Before I go there, I should say that some months ago, I got a very complimentary email from a mystery person who said he or she really enjoyed a particular story of mine. I was flattered, naturally, and returned the email (it was nondescript – a real mix of numbers and letters at a common free email site), and that started a correspondence, in which it turned out that the mystery sender was a she, and a very sexy one at that as well. Now, I know that it could have been a sweet transvestite from Transsexual Transylvania behind it, but it really seemed genuine, and I decided not to doubt but to go with the flow.

To make a couple of months’ worth of correspondence much shorter, it turned out that she had a husband who was encouraging her to experiment sexually with his approval, and that she had almost decided to go along with his kink, or so she considered it at the time. I didn’t encourage or discourage that, but was interested in her point of view on the whole thing, since I think that’s the hardest for a male write to understand, thus capture in writing. Much of our back and forth was mundane, and it was all email – we exchanged first names, but I never asked her last name, location, phone number, or other info. I did incidentally mention I had a conference in a particular large city coming up, so I might be too busy for a week or so to be conversing, so not to worry if I was silent for a bit.

But I was curious. Along the way I asked her about her own fantasies, and bit by bit she became more explicit. One day, when I’d asked her what in a man she looked for, she came back, saying, “Now my thoughts of my ideal man in the bedroom. He is romantic as in doing little things like flowers, candles, opening doors, soft music, openly showing his affection for me, never in a rush to the bedroom. He is confident knowing what would please me. Experimental in seeing what my limits are, asking me to do things that nobody would believe I would do. A take control type of guy. One who would insist I try his latest fantasy, not taking no for an answer. He can tell no matter what I say if I really did enjoy his latest request. He loves to tease me, making me want more, physically and verbally. Mmmm, this has me imagining and I will be going to work with wet panties. lol I’ll be thinking and adding more, my naughty man. This is arousing.”

I was just about to go back to her and say just how arousing that in itself was to me, when I saw another email from an address somewhat similarly indecipherable as hers, but related by a couple of digits. I opened it, expecting spam, but it was from her husband, Larry, who said he’d secretly hacked into her email and that he’d enjoyed reading our exchanges. He added that the city my conference was in was close enough to where they lived, and suggested a meeting.

Fascinated to meet my mystery correspondent, leery about meeting her husband, and interested to know more about just how they were handling his erotic fantasies about her, I agreed, and he proposed a tryst, with her not knowing who was there, but that he’d make her available, blindfolded. He said he’d be present as well although he didn’t expect to do more than observe, and if things worked out as he hoped, it would be great erotic fun for all three of us.

I’m divorced and enjoying the single life and saw few down sides to what he proposed. I’d never asked about her physical characteristics, so didn’t know if she was blonde, brunette, tall, short, over or under weight, or anything else – her language and his did sound white middle class American in the emails, but even that was a guess. I was intrigued, and Larry and I further plotted.

The assigned week came, and I arrived, conference over and done with, my flight back booked for the next day. Larry had them in a suite in a luxury hotel, treating her to a fantasy weekend, he said, and getting her agreement to go along with “anything.” He said, and she later corroborated, that she thought it was a romantic thing for him to do, but that all his talk about someone else being involved was just pillow talk. She was enjoying the getaway, though, and had selected what she thought were sexy clothes for the weekend – lingerie and cocktail dress and bikini, not knowing just what to expect.

I arrived at the assigned time, and met Larry in the bar as he’d instructed. “Very casual,” he’d said, so I was in nice shorts, polo shirt, sandals – it was summer, and in that city I could have gone to a nice restaurant or a dive in that outfit without the clothes being noticed. Good thinking about meeting in the bar, I figured, in case either of us wanted to back out at first sight of or conversation with the other. He had a bourbon on the bar, and I signaled for one of the same. We shook hands and he said, very much under escort eryaman his breath, “Thanks for coming – you’re going to be just right!” (whatever that meant to him). Served and introduced, I now knew he was pretty average in looks, height and weight, clean-cut, in casual clothes. He was nervous, but after a couple of minutes, we had both relaxed and were fine with each other.

“Shall we?” he said, rising and tossing a twenty on the bar to cover the drinks. “I left her just before you arrived, so she’s probably wondering if I’ve forgotten or been mugged or something.”

“Sure,” I agreed. Hell, I didn’t come to drink in the bar with him after all. I was antsy as well, but my worries about this being a setup or his going high and right on me had been assuaged. I wondered how he thought things would go in the room, but he seemed not to be concerned about that, so I just followed, and we exchanged small talk in the elevator, as if just two guys on a business trip at the end of a day.

Down a hallway, he retrieved his key card, swiped it, and we entered the room.

He led me through the suite living room space and then I saw you, in the bedroom, blindfolded, with your wrists tied with ribbons to the headboard, and covered from throat to toe with a white sheet. I couldn’t make out much about you, except that you were indeed Caucasian and brunette, and that the figure under the sheet seemed nicely curvy. My brain just shifted, and suddenly this wasn’t about you and Larry, but just about you, and just between us, as far as I was concerned.

You looked lovely. Make that you look lovely as I relive the day – I can’t think of this without shifting into the present in my mind, and without interjecting what you’ve told me since that you were thinking, feeling.

You are a bit propped up by several pillows behind your head and shoulders, and the wrist ribbons seemed, if not loose, more for show than to bind you against your will. Your mouth is closed, but I can see the sheet rising and falling, reflecting your breathing as heavier than just relaxed. I reflect that you’ve been this way for maybe a half hour, since Larry’s getting to the bar plus our meeting time there would result in something like that. I’m that much more ready to get this show on the road, if only to break the monotony for you.

Meanwhile, you feel curious, a bit embarrassed at your vulnerability and questioning this behavior, which is not usual for Larry, although he’d said this kind of thing might happen. Following his lead, you haven’t said a word either, although you could. You’re just wondering where this is going, and you know that whatever is going on, it’s sexual, and you’re feeling turned on a bit. He’d suggested showers after returning to the room in the late afternoon, and he’d done his first, being quicker. You welcomed the idea since it had been a bit of a long, warm day of strolling and seeing sights, and since you expected dinner to come next in this mysterious agenda of his.

Larry met you coming out of the shower, casting aside your towel. Fresh-scrubbed and naked, you were taken you by the hand, led to the bed, and blindfolded. He lay you down, raised your arms, tied your wrists as you giggled a bit, nervously at the strange, helpless feeling. He took care to arrange the pillows, your hair, attending to your comfort, covering you at last with that sheet. As he finished, he whispered, “This is for you. I’ll be back. Enjoy.”

The room was silent, and time passed. You have no idea if Larry is even still there, even though it sounded like he was leaving. And that was some time ago. At least you’re comfortable – tied up, yes, but not stretched, and really, the ties seem loose enough that if you really struggle, they’ll give. Then, you hear the knock, and the door faintly open, then close again. You wonder if Larry has finally left, or has just come back. Low, muffled voices reveal that he’s there, and that you and Larry aren’t the only ones in the room. Then things are silent again.

Unbeknownst to you, I have followed Larry into the bedroom and stand, just watching you, seeing you for the first time, noting the swell of your breasts under the sheet, watching the curves that the sheet forms as it outlines your legs up to your hips, the swell of your mons, your ribcage, your arms mostly covered, but revealing the wrists tied gently to the bed. I get to take my time, watching you, seeing you just breathing for a bit. I am mesmerized by the loveliness of you, by your vulnerability, knowing that you’ve acquiesced to this, knowing that you don’t even quite know what you’ve agreed to, agreed to by not resisting, agreed to through trusting Larry. You are his gift to me, and I am his gift to you. I can’t quite decide which gift is the greater, and decide to try to make you wonder which it is as well.

I stand at the foot of the bed, my cock growing toward half mast in my boxer briefs. I bend over you and tug down the sheet, just a bit. You can’t suppress a small gasp. It could be Larry there, and you only imagined another ankara escort person – that could have been the radio for a moment, the voices. Or it could be a stranger, or Larry still there with a stranger as well. Or even him with more than one other, but that’s unlikely, and you somehow know. Something in you knows that there are three of us – Larry, and you, and this strange new presence. Maybe it’s someone you both know, maybe someone you’d mentioned favorably that Larry invited. You only know someone has tugged the sheet, that your shoulders are now bared, and you feel your breasts, sensitive, reacting to the smooth sheet, which for a moment felt rough, rough enough to drag so lightly over your nipples. The sheet is down only to your collar bones, not yet revealing anything, really. Then silence again. For moments – how long, you’re not sure. The stillness makes you even more agitated, wanting something, anything, to . . . just . . . happen.

You’re surprised again when you feel something touch the tip of your right breast, just a touch, through the sheet, and you jerk in response, then realize it’s a hand as it covers your breast and tenderly traces its outlines with fingers, hefting it, circling, learning its contours, yet unseen. Your whole body tingles in response, and you wonder for a moment, could it be a woman? How could a man know just how firmly to touch, just when your nipple wanted its compression? You realize it doesn’t matter as much as you’d have thought just an hour before, and that the pleasure it’s bringing makes it not matter.

Without intending to, I utter a “mmmmm” quietly, drinking in the beauty of your form, and immediately you hear and know it’s not a woman. Yet, that wasn’t Larry’s voice, and the sudden knowledge hits you that it’s not just a ruse, it’s real, and it’s a man, and you’re helpless, yet eager. You shiver, head to toe.

“Larry?” you ask into the silence, not quite knowing what you’re asking for.

“I said, enjoy,” Larry answers from behind me. He’s taken a seat, and I turn to see him, in a chair, and he’s undressed, sitting, naked, his hand is in his lap. I can’t see just what’s going on there, but I figure I know, and I’m thinking, different strokes, or something like that. He motions to me to undress as well, and I do, facing him. Stepping out of my sandals and shucking off my shirt, I undo my shorts and let them and the unds drop, stepping clear, my cock released from its confines and swaying. He takes note of it, then uncovers his own showing me purposefully, and we take a guy moment to check and compare. His dick is hard enough to stand on its own, as he nods – satisfaction? permission? Whatever, it’s not a host’s denial, and I turn my attention back to you.

Another gentle pull on the sheet, and your breasts are exposed at last, their nipples harder than the warm room air would cause. Memorizing, I see their coloring, the way they sit on the breasts, the way the breasts’ weight spreads them, making me wonder yet again at the amazing things that are women’s breasts, so different in their appearances, whether lying across the ribs, as yours are now, or encased in those engineering marvel bras that practically offer them on platters to men’s eyes, to the way they hang loose when you’re on top leaning forward, the way they wash back and forth in time with the thrusts from below. Other mammals demonstrate that globular breasts such as humans have are absolutely unnecessary from a nursing point of view – no, human breasts have evolved as a sexual attractant, and men have evolved to be so attracted – and it’s a perfect scheme, surely.

And yours are wondrous. Having only seen them in a single emailed photo that you shared, I am fascinated by how lovely they are, and I must take my time to bend over you, letting my tongue barely touch the tip of one, the right one, eliciting another jerk from you. I imagine the breast lifts itself up in hopes of more, and I oblige, shifting to the left one, and I am rewarded with a soft gasp from you. Hungry, I return to the right nipple and breathe onto it, letting it sense my closeness, then suck it as gently as I can, into my lips, just barely, just teasing. And this time there is no doubt as you thrust it upwards to me, and I take more of it, and more firmly, but still being gentle – energetic can come later (and I am planning on it), but for now, just a tease, just a feather touch except with lips. Finally I let my teeth touch, not biting, just stating their presence, as I take more and more, still slowly, until my mouth is wide open and full of your softness. I want to ravage you, to thrust into you, to take you – but if this is to be the only time we are together, I want not to miss anything, and so I suppress my drives and graze rather than gorge . . . for now.

Then I pulled away, wondering if the left breast somehow feels neglected. Starting the similar process on it, I caress the right with my hand, feeling its slickness from my mouth, softly exploring its nipple with my fingers as my mouth repeats elvakent escort its tasting on the left. Pausing for a moment, I whisper, “should I continue?” and your first words to me reply, breathlessly,

“Please.”

And so continue I do. With one sudden yank, I sweep the sheet off your body. The suddenness of it, I hope, would surprise you, after the gentle treatment of your breasts. I like the idea of your not knowing what was coming next, of not being able to control. I know that if I sense your real objection to anything, I will back off right away, but I also know that you don’t know where I’m going, how far in what direction I will push you – you still can’t know who this is controlling you, except that it isn’t Larry.

I step back to see the rest of you, and take a moment to register the contours, the gentle swell of your curves, from thighs and hips to belly and back across navel to your lovely womanhood, now bared to me. I turn and see Larry still seated, watching me watching you. He nods his assent that I should continue as well, or so I interpret – we don’t speak, we’re just co-conspirators. He is openly stroking himself now, and it looks like he is stimulated by what he is seeing. His prick glistens in the dim light – I notice a small bottle, likely some sort of oil, on the table next to him. He appears to be just as you had described at one time – cut, not particularly impressive in length or girth, but not, I guess, too small to be quite adequate if appropriately applied. I smile to myself that I outsize him, if not by a huge amount, at least noticeably. You’d told me something of how large your various lovers’ equipment had been, so I knew I was not as large as some had been. I was glad that from what you’ve said, you are not a “size queen,” while seeing Larry confirmed that I had something a bit extra to offer, in size as well as in hardness – and, which you didn’t know, in staying power. I see Larry look at my erection, which by now stands full and proud, having needed no stroking help thanks to your beauty and the offering you present to me, even unknowingly. Larry nods again, which I take to be his approval of my applying it to your benefit when the time comes.

Turning back to you and being in no rush, I know I have to taste your womanhood. Crawling up to you from the bottom of the bed, I lie on my stomach, raising your legs over my shoulders, and prepared to feast. First, I take that careful look again. Closely trimmed, not clean shaven, just the way I favor. For me, au natural is fine, clean-shaven is a bit of a denial of what nature had provided, and trimmed sends a message that the woman is aware of her sexual self, and that she takes pains to present herself attractively.

Focusing on the task at hand, I can see your chest and blindfolded face, and proceed to taste, explore, and test. From the first intrusion of my tongue in my back-to-gentle manner, your breathing is quicker, and I hear your lovely sighs of encouragement. I tease a bit, and dip a bit, nuzzling a bit, trying this and that to see what you seem to react to. Knowing you’re on edge wondering, I want to establish that I’m on your side and one to be trusted. No wham bam guy, but someone you will want to give yourself to, whether you know me or not, of your own volition. Soon my tongue is being led by your responses to firm rotations around your bud, quickening steadily as you start to writhe and moan. Finally, uttering an “Ah . . AHHH!!” I sense you are coming, and ride through it with you, slowing after the peak to come back to earth, finishing with kisses of affection all along your now glistening sex.

Still between your legs, I grab a corner of the discarded sheet and wipe my face, which is wet with yours and my liquids. Then I rise in a push-up position and come close to you. I know you can feel me between your thighs, and I rest the shaft my erection on top of your pussy, not wanting to intrude unless invited. I rub my cock against you as I whisper, “May I?” I feel you know my meaning, and that if you agree, I will be fucking you in a moment.

“Larry?” you ask.

“Up to you, babe. I told you, enjoy, but it’s up to you.” You answer me, not Larry,

“Please.”

Leaving your mask in place, I pull the easily unknotted ribbons binding your wrists, freeing your arms, which I wonder may be getting stiff from being bound like that. You immediately wrap your arms around my shoulders, and I take that as its own answer and lower my face to finally kiss you for the first time. You shift your face to the side, as if not wanting to share that level of intimacy, but I am not to be denied. Pursuing, I firmly take your face and pull it back to me, hold it for a moment – you really are lovely, and I want those lips as well as the rest of you. You know by your face being held there that you’re going to be kissed now, and you don’t resist this time. Still holding your face, I lower my mouth and find your lips again, nudging them apart with my tongue. I feel you yielding, your mouth opening and your tongue emerging to duel with mine. You’re shaking slightly, but that diminishes as your kisses get more urgent. For moments, we just kiss, my arms now around you, my body pressed to yours but holding off my weight from you, my cock rubbing steadily at your door.

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

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

The parking lot looked fairly full when they pulled in for the outdoor concert in the park. They drove around the parking lot for several minutes while looking for a space, finally finding a remote spot under a tree. He parked the car, and turned to her after shutting it off.

“We’ll have to walk a little way.” He said.

“That’s ok.” She smiled at him. “You’re the guy, you can carry everything.” She giggled and leaned in to kiss him on the lips. He laughed and kissed her back, reaching over and holding her to him by the back of her neck when she would have pulled away. He opened his lips over hers and swept his tongue into her mouth, stroking and sliding it against hers. She gasped into his mouth and sank into the kiss, sucking his tongue into her mouth. He groaned and pulled away from her.

“Ok, I’ll carry everything including you if you kiss me like that again.” He joked.

She laughed and they both got out of the car and took blankets and a cooler out of the trunk. She carried the blankets while he chivalrously said he would carry the cooler. They walked to the park where they finally found a place in the back near numerous trees and not a lot of people and spread out two blankets and sat down to wait for the concert. She sat down and he laid his head in her lap and stretched out his legs.

“What makes you think you can lay your head in my lap, mister?” she laughed and tickled his ear. He looked up at her and grinned.

“Because I’m tired and really cute?” he tried.

“Ah, well ok, but only for a little while.” She stroked his chest with her other hand. “I’ll want payback later.”

“You keep stroking me like that you’re gonna get paid back all right.” He smiled devilishly. She slapped his chest lightly and laughed. “You think I kid? I’ve been gone all week and I come home to ‘oh you didn’t forget about the outdoor concert that I’ve been dying to go to’ did you?” he said in a singsong voice while laughing. “I want to come home and make love you want to come here. I deserve my head in your lap, damn it.”

She held her hand over his mouth, attempting to quiet him, but no one really noticed as they were far enough away from people.

“Shhh. People will hear you!” she gasped.

“So?”

She looked down at him and smiled. She ran her fingertips over his lips and traced his mouth.

“You don’t need to tell everyone around us that you’re horny, honey.” She said softly.

“No sweetheart.” He said as he sat up and looked at her. He leaned in and kissed her lips softly. “I’m not just horny. I missed you. Not anyone else, not missed having sex, missed you. There’s a difference.” He whispered against her lips.

“I see.” She whispered and licked his lower lip. He groaned and kissed her fully on the mouth. She whimpered into his mouth as he pulled her across his chest and lay back on the blanket. He rolled her over and lay on top of her, kissing her the whole time. When he finally let her mouth go, she was panting.

“Someone will see us.” She whispered.

He looked around and saw that no one was paying attention them, but he knew she was shy and wouldn’t let him do much more in front of people. He pulled away from her, and motioned for her to lay her head in his lap. She looked at him and leaned her head escort eryaman as if to ask why and he chuckled.

“If you don’t put your head in my lap, people will see something they shouldn’t behind my zipper.” He whispered to her. Her eyes widened and she lay down quietly with her head in his lap. He ran his hands through her hair and rubbed her stomach while she lay and listen to the music coming from across the park. He saw her close her eyes and felt her relax against him.

He ran his hand up her stomach and between her breasts, and then circled one breast with his finger. She opened her eyes and looked up at him with warning, but he just looked back at her innocently. He dragged his finger over her breast and saw her nipple harden and raised his eyebrows as he looked down at her.

“Could it be that you missed me, too?” he whispered.

“You know I missed you.” She whispered back. “I told you every night when you called.” She blushed, remembering that most nights when he called they ended up talking naughty to one another and having phone sex.

“Yes I know.” He grinned at her. “Hearing you moan and pant into the phone was very hot.”

She blushed even more, which cracked him up. No one would know looking at her that she was enjoyed sex so much with him. When they were alone, she was incredibly sexy, enticing him in ways he didn’t even realize. She loved to be touched and caressed for a long time, and loved to be kissed. And kissing her to him was heaven. The way she sucked his lower lip and stroked his tongue and sucked it into her mouth made him hard almost immediately. He shifted uncomfortably, realizing that he needed to stop thinking along these lines or he really was going to embarrass them both.

She looked up at him as he shifted, raising her eyebrow. She laughed as she realized he was getting aroused. She sat up and kissed him softly on the lips, lightly licking his lower lip. She trailed her hand up his inner thigh and sucked his lower lip into her mouth, tonguing it softly. He groaned against her mouth.

“Careful honey,” he growled against her mouth.

“What if I don’t want to be careful?” she whispered against his lips. He pulled back slightly and looked into her eyes.

“Honey, unless you want to go over there behind a tree, or head back to the car for some very uncomfortable sex, you better stop.” He said seriously.

She smiled slowly and walked her fingers up his chest and flicked his nipple. She grinned when he took hold of her hand and looked at her warningly.

“So let’s go behind a tree.” She whispered enticingly. He looked at her and realized she was serious.

“Honey, are you sure?” he asked as he looked around to see where they could be the most private. He felt her lips on his neck and moaned. He felt her lick his earlobe and suck it into her mouth. He was going insane and she loved it.

She leaned back and slowly stood up and held her hand to him. He took her hand and stood up with her and pulled her with him into the trees. When they got into the trees he pulled her to a very large tree and pushed her back up against it. He kissed her deeply, pushing his tongue into her mouth and groaning. He felt her hands against his chest, massaging his chest and running her fingertips over his ankara escort nipples through his shirt. He pulled back slightly and breathed heavily.

“Baby,” he whispered harshly, “you’re playing with fire.”

“I know.” She whispered into his ear. She pulled his shirt from his pants and touched his skin. She pushed up his shirt and bent her head and licked on nipple and ran a thumb over the other. He groaned and bent his head and licked her ear.

“Baby, you don’t understand.” He groaned. “If you keep going, I’m going to take you against this tree.” He moaned into her neck, sucking it gently.

She unfastened his belt buckle, unsnapped his pants and slid his zipper down. She pushed his pants and briefs down to his ankles and got go her knees in front of him. She slowly stroked him in her hand and smiled up at him.

“Take it in your mouth baby.” He begged while stroking her hair. “Please.”

She opened her mouth and fluttered her tongue over the head, back and forth, over and over. He groaned and put his hands on the tree to hold himself up. He looked down and watched her take him in her mouth. He moaned and realized he needed to keep quiet or people could hear him.

She swallowed him into her mouth, working her tongue on the underside of him and moving her hand up and down his shaft while she sucked him. She moved her head back and forth over him, making him rock hard, humming around him. She heard him whispering to her, urging her on, begging her not to stop sucking him. She reveled in the power she held at the moment, but knew that she wanted him inside her, so she slowed her pace and eventually took her mouth off of him.

She smiled and stood up in front of him. She reached under her skirt and pulled her panties off and grinned at him as she twirled them on her finger. She leaned back against the tree and smiled at him.

He leaned against her and kissed her deeply. He slid her skirt up her legs to her waist, and reached between her legs and stroked her with one finger. He was shocked to find her already wet and drenched against his hand. He looked into her eyes and panted hard. He stroked her inner lips with one finger and kissed her when she started to mewl like a kitten. He pushed his finger up inside her pussy and stroked slowly. She moaned into his mouth, grinding against his finger. He pulled his mouth away from hers and panted against her mouth.

“You’re so wet.” He whispered, still stroking her slowly.

“Sucking on you makes me that way.” She panted against his lips and pumped her hips against his hand. She reached down and took his cock in her hand and stroked it in rhythm with his hand against her pussy. “And I was already turned on waiting for you to come home. But I forgot we were supposed to go to this…” she whimpered as he inserted another finger into her pussy and thrust faster.

“And now?” he panted, pulling his hand away and pushing her up against the tree, lifting her legs around his waist.

“I just want you.” She moaned, pushing herself up by gripping his shoulders.

He reached between them and took his cock in his hand and guided it to her pussy. She moaned as the head slipped into her opening. He dug his fingers into her hips and pulled her down onto his cock and elvakent escort sheathed himself inside her pussy. He buried his face in her neck and groaned.

“Oh my God.” She moaned and ground against him. He reached up with one hand and covered her mouth.

“Shh, this is a private party.” He groaned and thrust his hips against her.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and laid her forehead against his and panted as he thrust into her. She kissed his lips, pushing her tongue into his mouth and moaning. She felt him thrust harder and buried her face in his neck.

“Please don’t stop.” She panted.

He groaned and thrust harder, pushing her against the tree so she could feel that bark digging into her skin. He licked her neck and panted into her ear.

“You need to let tell me when you’re close babe.” He panted. She moaned and he covered her mouth again.

“Shh.” He panted. “We don’t want everyone enjoying this.” He said as he began pumping harder. He shifted his hand to hold her neck and kissed her deeply, thrusting into her over and over again.

“I’m gonna cum.” She panted against his mouth. “Help me.” She whispered and clung to him as he pumped his hips harder. She bit her lip and let her head fall back against the tree and closed her eyes. Her body began to tremble and he felt her muscles clamp down on his cock. He covered her mouth with his and she cried out her pleasure into his mouth. She ground against him, moaning into his mouth.

He slapped one hand onto the tree while holding her, and thrust against her hard and fast and felt himself erupt inside her. She held his head against her neck as he moaned while he came. He settled his hips against hers and held her up against the tree, panting against her neck.

He kissed her neck and pressed his forehead to hers, breathing heavily, both of them still trembling. He pushed her hair away from her face and kissed her lips gently.

“You’re amazing.” He whispered against her lips. He pulled himself away from her and let her down. He reached down and pulled his briefs and pants up, and fastened them. He laughed suddenly. She looked up at him, her skirt had fallen down to her knees, and she was leaning back against the tree smiling.

“What?” she whispered.

He continued laughing and tucked his shirt into his pants. He leaned over and kissed her softly, wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her to him. He then reached down to her hands and pulled her panties away that she still held in her hands. He put them in his pocket and took her hand and led her back to the blankets.

No one seemed to notice they had left, and they sat on the blankets like before with his head in her lap. She looked down and stroked his forehead and smiled. He looked up at her and grinned.

“When you wanna do that again?” he asked. She laughed and put her fingers over his lips.

“I didn’t plan that you know.” She whispered. “I just knew that I wanted you and probably wasn’t going to be able to hold out until we got home. So…” She blushed and looked up at the sky. “I thought it would be a nice way to let you know I missed you.”

He looked up at her, knowing that what she had just done was very out of character for her, but knowing she enjoyed it. He smiled up at her and held her hand in his. He lifted it to his lips and kissed is softly.

“It was very nice, I enjoyed it very much, and we’ll have to see what I can do to show you how much I missed you.” He grinned wickedly at her as she laughed.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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1.

It all began with a Youtube search. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. It all began when she got herself born to a Scotch-Irish mother and a Danish father. She wasn’t complaining—well not really; they’d given her all kinds of great stuff, a head for numbers, a taste for chamber music, a kick-ass metabolism, (she could eat anything without gaining a pound, which occasionally made it tough to socialize with girlfriends), thick strawberry blonde hair, the obligatory peaches-and-cream complexion, and freckles. Fucking freckles: just a splash of them, right across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose; she didn’t even have them all over shoulders and breasts, like her cousin, Sasha. Of course the fact that Sasha looked like a one-woman measles epidemic hadn’t stopped her from landing a gorgeous husband with whom she was sickeningly happy. Not the point; Dana wasn’t even looking to get married. She was looking for…fun, a little excitement, a little…something other than what she was getting from the guys she dated, literally all of whom told her she was “cute as a button.”

Marvelous. Who wants to fuck a button?

She knew she was being silly. She knew this was a self-image problem. This wasn’t even a “problem” in any real sense of the world. Poverty was a problem. Cancer was a problem. Homelessness was a problem. Cuteness was a…condition. It was just a condition she was getting a little sick of. And it wasn’t like she never had sex. She was 29, gainfully employed and unattached. She could have sex…well, maybe not whenever she wanted it, but since moving to the big city she’d had plenty of sex, mostly with guys, but once or twice… But even the girls…what had Kelly said? Direct quote: “Oh my God, Dane, you’re so adorable, I just want to eat you all up!” And she had, and it had been a-fucking-mazing! But still…

She was always…on the bottom; even when she wasn’t. Guys wanted to coddle and cherish and protect her, and girls wanted…well, Kelly wanted to dress her up in a Catholic schoolgirl uniform and spank her, but Kelly was…imaginative. And nuts; Kelly was nuts…and hot, but still…

And none of it would have been an issue if Dana had been wired a little differently, but the problem was…that…she was really…interested in sex. Not exactly obsessed with…well maybe a little. And she was interested in…all of sex, or at least not just in the lovey-dovey princess meets her prince and gets married and has babies and lives happily ever after scenarios that most of her friends seemed to fantasize about. But when it came to…the moment—and Dana’s curiosity meant she had more first-date sex than maybe she should have, because some of it wasn’t very good… No, when it came to the moment, she just couldn’t seem to…assert herself.

She’d tried being aggressive, even tried talking dirty to this one guy, but apparently it took some practice, or maybe he just hadn’t been into it or…something. She’d taken a leaf from Kelly’s book—Kelly always made it sound so easy—so she’d said something like “Oh my God, I want your big cock in my mouth so bad…” But the guy looked at her like he hadn’t understood. Maybe she’s been speaking a little quickly; she’d been nervous. So she tried again, slowed down a little, but as she was speaking she noticed that his dick wasn’t really all that big to begin with. That’s to say it was fine, but it wasn’t…maybe he was a grower, not a shower, and she didn’t want to think she was making fun of him, so she kind of…lost her train of thought. The guy had given her a quizzical look, smiled, said he thought she was “really cute”—son of a bitch was lucky she didn’t have a gun in her purse—and then given her a perfectly serviceable orgasm with his tongue before fucking her for ten or fifteen minutes until he came in a condom, by which time she was too embarrassed to say much of anything.

Then there was the time she and Todd had tried the friends-with-benefits thing for a few months, and she’d bought this really slutty little bra and garter belt set. She’d greeted him at the door in it one night. His eyebrows had gone up, and he’d said “very nice.” And he’d picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, and thrown her on the bed, and then he’d stood there a minute, just looking at her. She’d said: “What?”

“Dane, can I be honest?”

“I suppose…”

“It’s just that…I don’t know; the black is just…not really you somehow.”

“Why?” She was trying not to lose it. She’d paid a lot of money for the lingerie.

He could see she was upset, and he was a decent guy—they were still friends, but: “It’s like a disconnect. You’ve got this hot little body, and this adorable face…I don’t know, it’s like putting fishnets on Raggedy Ann.”

Still friends; no more benefits.

FUCKING FRECKLES!

2.

“Make-up, you idiot!”

That had been Yaz, Dana’s best friend at work. Five-foot-nothing-95 pound-fucking gorgeous, from Karachi originally, worked in HR, just down the hall from Dana’s office in Accounting.

“What about it?”

“You never eryamandaki escortlar wear any.”

“Look whose talking.”

“Yes, but I’m not whinging about freckles.” Yaz had gone to university in the UK, and Dana sometimes needed a second to translate.

“What the hell is…look, never mind. What do you mean about make-up?”

“Concealer, foundation, I don’t know. As you say, I don’t use much: lipstick, some eye stuff…”

“You mean like…what, painting over them? Oh, I don’t know, Yaz…”

“I don’t know either,” snapped her friend. “Personally I think it’s a stupid idea. You’ve got the most beautiful skin I’ve ever seen, and you have a lovely face. Why you want to change anything about your appearance is completely beyond my comprehension, but there it is.” She shot Dana a wry look: “The truth is: your well-wishers around the office are heartily sick of listening to a woman as beautiful as you are bitch about the way she looks. If you were to start griping about your weight, I might think about killing you myself.”

“Seriously, Yaz?” Then off her friend’s look: “Okay, okay…I’m sorry. I’ll shut up about the freckles. And maybe I’ll try some…something.”

3.

On the way home that evening, she’d stopped at the local mall, headed into Macy’s, and spent entirely too much money on a variety of products: skin creams, foundations, rouges, various eye shadows, some lipstick—which she actually needed—and some other stuff, not all of which she understood how to use. The saleslady had explained most of it, and Dana had tried to pay attention, but the store was mobbed, and people kept asking her saleslady questions, and the muzak was loud and the heating system was on the fritz, and her phone kept beeping…

When she got home that night, she dragged a kitchen chair into the bathroom, sat down in front of the mirror, cleansed her face with the…face cleanser, and began.

Two-and-a-half hours later she looked up at the finished product and discovered that, unbeknownst to the art world, Picasso had painted a portrait of Joan Rivers just before she died as a $10-a-trick hooker. True: she could no longer see her freckles, but she was also having some trouble finding her lips. She sighed, reached for the box of incredibly expensive baby wipes and began the search to recover—or rather uncover—her face.

4.

Later still, she was sitting in an old bathrobe in front of the computer, thinking about the now un-returnable collection of cosmetics still cluttering up her bathroom counter. That stuff really had cost a fortune. Had to be something on line that could give her a few pointers about how to apply it. She really didn’t want to just write it off. And that had led her to Youtube.

At first she just searched “make up,” and she’d come up with literally thousands of tutorials for applying…well, pretty much everything: eyes, lips, foundation, highlights, contours. She’d heard things like “go in,” “fluffy brush,” “water line,” “falsies,”—which could mean fake eyelashes as well as those boob-pads which Sasha used to fill out her bra; who knew? And then she’d started getting suggestions for more elaborate stuff: effects make-up, specific “looks,” and then—because it happened to be the middle of October—Halloween-themed tutorials.

And that got her thinking about the office party, which was a little wonky that particular October because Halloween fell on a Thursday, and upper management had a retreat scheduled for the following weekend, which meant the party was on Saturday, the 26th, which was—oh hell’s bells—a little more than two weeks away!

Maybe she wouldn’t go this year. Yaz wasn’t going; Dana knew that. She was taking some vacation and flying back to Pakistan for a week, or maybe ten days… Anyway, she didn’t really have time to put together a good costume. On the other hand, free food—good food too—and an open bar, and…there was always the possibility…

Sex: Jesus, she really was obsessed. But Dana hadn’t had any for a few months now, and she was getting…restless. And Halloween was a good opportunity, excuse, whatever… She could let go a little, wear something a little slutty; hell, everybody did these days. Her mom was constantly complaining about how her favorite holiday—passing out candy to cute little neighborhood kids in princess and superhero costumes—had turned into a meat market for horny twenty- and thirty-somethings. And Dana worked for a big firm; she didn’t know half her co-workers, at least…not to say know…

Still, the costume was an issue. What should she be? She thought about it as she scrolled through the Halloween make-up videos: there were she-devils, skull faces, some super gory stuff—eyeball hanging out: not sexy; not even a little bit. Or if it was, that was not a guy she was going to be into—ok, there was Poison Ivy, and Maleficent, and what’s-her-name from Corpse Bride; that one was kind of cute.

Fuck! Cute! Not cute: hot, sexy, slutty even, but not fucking cute! Moving on: sexy kitty—still kind of cute-ish—vampire, generic sort etimesgut bayan escort of hooker look, mermaid—that one was just creepy, zombie—lot of zombies these days. Looked like fun, but again, not really sexy…well, what about vampire? It was kind of a cliché, but it looked do-able, even for a make-up newbie. And the costume would be pretty easy; vampires can wear anything, right? She could be power-suit vampire, business-casual vampire, little-black-dress vampire; the costume would be easy, but what about the make-up? Well, she could try. God knew she had enough of it. And if she followed one of these video tutorials, she’d sure as hell cover the damned freckles.

5.

It took her most of the week practicing, but in the end, it didn’t turn out to be all that hard. She’d watched a bunch of different videos, and some of them had emphasized the durability of one product or another. Dana thought about where the night might lead…or where she hoped the night might lead; be good if the make-up stayed on long enough for her to…find herself a victim. The thought made her a little…moist. She fantasized about luring some hot guy off into the shadows—the party was usually held at this hotel in the middle of a local business park, and there were all kinds of places where a horny little vampiress could bring a willing victim for a quick suck.

She wondered about the fangs. Decided she had to have fangs, otherwise she’d just be some lady in a sexy dress and trampy make-up. Would they get in the way? Would she be able to talk with them in? Back to the internet, where, after a little trial and error, she found a local place that made custom fangs in a variety of designs. They were kind of expensive, but the guy she talked to promised strength and durability, and, he said, you could talk pretty well in them, with a little practice. She debated buying a wig, but decided a good one really was too expensive, and that anything cheaper just made her look silly. Instead, she opted for a new color and style, going, after work on Friday, from a demure blonde to a dark red with copper highlights, worn off the face and long, the ends curling just above the tops of her breasts. She liked the new shade. It even complimented the freckles.

She spent time thinking about the dress; even went shopping at a local upscale mall, but having spent more than she’d planned on the make-up, the teeth, and her hair, she opted for a club dress she’s bought over the summer, but never got up the nerve to wear: nylon and spandex, black (and fuck you again, Todd!), long sleeves, cutout shoulders, and a high collar with another cutout—teardrop shaped—beginning just below her collarbone, designed to display a lot of cleavage. She couldn’t really wear a bra with the damn thing, but the spandex pushed her up and together making her look bosomy, and maybe even a little…what, brazen? Panties would be tough too; g-string or thong at most, and could she get away with a lace garter belt? Easy access in any case. The thing had been on sale, and in her size, and she’d bought it, tried it on once, and then left it in the closet. It was impossible; beyond slutty, it was predatory: far too much for plain old Dana, but for Vampiress Dana…she’d tried it on with her make-up on and fangs in, and all of a sudden it was perfect.

The night before the party, she stared at herself in the full-length mirror on her bedroom door: dress, fangs, hair, make-up, a little jewelry, black stockings, four-inch stilettos, the whole shooting match. Vampires weren’t supposed to have reflections, but fuck that! She looked amazing: the new dark red hair framing her oval face, pale blue eyes under thick black mascara-ed lashes, her lids done in a sultry blend of black and copper, smooth, pale complexion with cheekbones made prominent by…some darkish powder—she’d forgotten what it was called, full lips painted a dark red, wicked looking fangs over her canines. Then, the collar of the dress high on her neck, slim arms in black form-fitting sleeves, and graceful hands with long red nails, the tops of her full, ripe breasts peaking through that keyhole, her torso tapering to a narrow waist and rounded hips, the slight line of g-string and garter belt disguised by the artful—and deliberate—wrinkling of the dress below the bodice, and finally: long, shapely black-stockinged legs narrowing to dainty feet in the simple-sexy pumps. She smiled at her reflection. She snarled. She ran the tip of her tongue over the points of her fangs, smiled again. She didn’t look cute as a button anymore. She looked…hot, but dangerous, a little bloodthirsty, which made sense, but…maybe…one more thing.

She went back to her bathroom and sat in front of her mirror. Taking a tube of fake blood she’d picked up at a nearby CVS, she dabbed a little from the corners of her mouth, allowing it to drip down her chin, then before it could stain her dress, she smudged it with her finger tips. There it was; the complete look; a ravenous, insatiable creature of the night, ankara escort with the blood of her latest kill fresh on her lips.

That night, after she had taken it all off, Dana lay in bed trying to fall asleep. Her mind and body were restless, and as the hours passed, her fantasies became more erotic, twisted and surreal until her hand made its way between her thighs, her fingers found her clit, and she jilled herself to a wracking, half-remembered orgasm with the taste of blood in either her mouth or her memory.

6.

The morning of the party, Dana slept late. When she finally woke up, she treated herself to a long hot shower, during which she shaved everything below her neck. She emerged with her skin tingling from the cool air in the apartment, and began her preparations. Anticipation made the whole day a little surreal. As she began what she thought of as the transformation to Vampiress Dana—should she come up with another name? ‘Dana:’ not really exotic enough maybe?—she began to get both excited, like riding-a-roller-coaster excited, as well as aroused. By the time the fake blood was dripping down her chin, she could barely sit still. But then she had to figure out what kind of purse to take; had to have at least a driver’s license, not to mention a little money, and a phone. Did the fashionable undead seductress favor a clutch or a shoulder bag? And should she wear something over the costume on her way to the party. The dress was pretty risqué. Fuck it! It was Halloween, or the weekend before, anyway. There would probably be people on the streets with less on than her. Still, the fantasy waned a little as she sat in traffic on the beltway behind the wheel of her Prius: club-slut vampire, fuel-efficient vampire…

She’d opted for the smallest, thinnest clutch she had, but when she arrived at the party and parked in the structure, she decided to leave it in the car. She even left the key fob balanced on the driver’s side rear tire. Dana was incommunicado for the next few hours anyway, and vampires never drank…wine. (Besides: open bar.)

Festivities had begun at 7:00, but Dana arrived closer to 8:00. The sun was gone, and the sky was just shedding the last of the day as she headed for the lobby. The day had been warm enough, but the night was chilly, and she began to wish she’d brought a wrap of some kind. Vampires weren’t supposed to get cold, but make-up and fantasy would only carry her so far. She decided to stay inside for the evening; chattering fangs: not sexy.

Inside the lobby, and up an escalator to a ballroom on the mezzanine. She handed her invitation—the only thing she was carrying—to Geoff from Security who was manning the door.

“Dana, is that you?”

“Hey Geoff. Yup, it’s me. How come you’re not in costume?”

“I’m working. Speaking of which, I’m supposed to see some ID…”

Dana grimaced. “I left it in the car. I didn’t want to carry a purse, and in this…I’ll go back for it, if you need me to”

Geoff looked her up and down. He took a couple of deep breaths. “It’s OK. I know you. Happy Halloween, and by the way…um, you look amazing.”

Dana smiled at him. “Thanks, Geoff, you’re an angel. Then she looked past him into the mass of people drinking, dancing, and partying. “I’ll scream if I need anything.” And she headed in, the high heels lending her hips a sassy sway.

“You do that, Babe.” muttered the 63-year-old ex-Marine under his breath. He watched her into the room, shaking his head.

7.

The “ballroom” turned out to be a large multi-purpose/conference room which could be partitioned in half when required. Small chandeliers hung from a reasonably high ceiling to illuminate—dimly—a DJ playing a mixture of Top-40, Halloween novelty songs, and standards from a station against the far right wall. The bar was directly across in the far left corner, and next to it were several tables with what looked like the usual snack/dinner: canapés, fruit, cheese, desserts. A good-sized dance floor had been installed in the center of the room over the non-descript industrial carpeting, and several round tables, seating from four to six people at any given time, were arranged around it.

Dana took in her costumed co-workers. She recognized several, but more were strangers to her. She assumed she was also seeing partners, friends and various other “plus-ones,” but it was still a pleasant surprise—in the circumstances—to see how few people she actually knew. The costumes ranged from traditional—witches, cowboys, superheroes—to topical—two Donald Trumps, and one pair who was probably supposed to be Kim and Kanye—and from silly—a couple dressed as bacon and eggs—to sexy—slutty nurse, slutty referee, slutty Cookie Monster…wait, really? Abruptly, Dana decided she didn’t want to mingle. Plain old Dana was a people-pleaser, good at small-talk, social drinking, friendly flirting. Vampiress Dana didn’t want any of that. She’d be a hunter, confident and ruthless, searching for…an experience; maybe a lover, maybe just a playmate to tease and then abandon. She decided she didn’t much care. Tonight was for her, and she would top, tease, seduce, satisfy, disappoint, dominate, or whatever. She would try to avoid her friends and close acquaintance, but if one of them got in her way…if one of them wanted to play…she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

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

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

“You missed it,” Rob said, still chuckling under his breath. “Dean was over on cooler dock popping a dock plate while standing on it, and slipped on the ice. Busted his ass good.”

Rich erupted into laughter at the supervisor’s misfortune and then said, “Ah, damn. I wish I could have seen that.”

“It was fucking hilarious.”

Rich suddenly pointed at something on a pallet and muttered under his breath, “Western.”

Rob pulled his load sheet from his back pocket and made a show of looking it over for the Vice President’s benefit. The two friends then split up and did their best to look as if they were on an important mission. As Rob walked down the dock, Mr. Western turned away, apparently satisfied that they were working, and continued his hunt for someone to bitch at.

Disaster averted, Rob decided he’d better knuckle down for a while until the boss wandered back to his office up front. As it turned out, things got hectic and the time flew by until the last truck of the day was closed up and ready to roll.

Having done his clean up in lulls throughout the day, he escaped well ahead of everyone else on his crew. Once out the front door, his eyes homed in on a young blonde he didn’t recognize who was talking to a woman from H.R. She had an incredible ass, and when she turned a little, he could see that the rest of her was just as delicious.

As he walked closer, he overheard the young woman say, “Except for being the only girl without flowers on Valentine’s Day.”

“Don’t give up yet. You still have a few days,” the older woman suggested as she turned back to the building.

The object of his attention noticed him approaching. Her eyes lit up and she smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Rob said as he stopped in front of her, getting an even better look at the blonde’s beautiful face, and breasts that really filled out her sweater. “New? Haven’t seen you before.”

“Just started today. Julie.”

“Rob,” he supplied. “Getting off work?”

“Uh huh. You too?”

“Yeah. Early for once.” May as well go for it, he thought. “I was going to go grab some Starbucks. Let me buy you one as a reward for surviving your first day?”

She laughed and said, “Sure. I’d like that. The one up the road? Meet you there?”

“Sounds good. See you in a couple of minutes.”

She waved and started toward her car. As he watched her walk, there was no doubt that his day had just taken a decisive turn for the better.

****

Rob’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he ducked into the nearest hidden spot to check the message. As he’d hoped, it was from Julie.

He’d spent an hour or so chatting with her at the Starbucks, talking about movies, music, and a myriad of other things. He got the feeling shortly on that she was testing him.

If so, he’d passed, because they traded numbers before heading home.

She’d sent him several texts during the day, and the latest asked when he was getting off work. Lamenting the rotten luck, he replied that it would be another couple of hours at least.

A minute later, his phone buzzed again. When he found a safe place to check it, he was greeted by a picture of her with the most adorable pout on her face. He recognized the decor and realized she’d shot the selfie in a mirror of the women’s restroom.

The girls had mirrors and hand sanitizer dispensers, while the guys were lucky if the hand dryers even worked.

She looked incredible in her button-down blouse, which showed off her tits even better than the sweater she’d worn the day before. He couldn’t believe the stroke of luck that had let him get to her before anybody else.

Her next message arrived while he was still admiring her picture. “Send me a message a little before you get off?”

“Sure. It could be late, though.”

“I don’t care. I want to hang out.”

He gave a fist-pumping victory salute before slipping the phone back in his pocket.

The already long day seemed to drag on even longer with the prospect of seeing Julie waiting for him. Her texts were growing increasingly flirty, pointing toward even better things to come. Since losing his last girlfriend due to the long hours, he’d been in a three-month drought. Porn was a poor substitute, and he was beginning to go a little crazy.

Finally, he could see light at the end of the tunnel and sent her a message that he’d be out in about fifteen minutes.

“I’m craving pizza,” her next message read. “Pizza Hut?”

“Perfect. Want to meet there?”

“I’ll come meet you at work and we can ride together.”

That was a good sign.

The parking lot had cleared out quite a bit by the time his crew finished, leaving Julie a parking spot right next to him. She shut off the car when she saw him and stepped out.

His breath caught in his chest as she closed the door. She was wearing the button-down blouse from her earlier text, but the skirt was far too short to have passed inspection at work. It showed off her legs nearly to the thigh and hugged her tight little ass eryamanda yeni escortlar so well that it might as well have been painted on.

“Hurry and start the car. It’s freezing,” she said as he approached.

He clicked the button on his key fob twice, and she scurried over to the passenger side. She got in and closed the door before he even got his open.

She was hugging her arms around her and shivering as he sat down. He looked over and said, “The heater works pretty well. Shouldn’t take long,” while starting the car.

As soon as the automatic headlights clicked on and reflected back off the car in front of him, he could see her nipples poking at her blouse. Can’t be wearing a bra, he thought as he tore his eyes away from the enticing sight.

Her voice quavering a little as she shivered, she asked, “Do you usually get stuck here this late?”

“Sometimes later. Never really know.”

“That sucks. Thank god I’m on a regular schedule.”

“It can be a pain sometimes,” he said as he put the car in reverse and backed out.

“Oh well. I guess it’s good money, anyway.”

“Yeah, that’s the one consolation prize.”

She grinned and twitched her eyebrows. “So, your treat?”

“Yeah, it’s on me,” he said, and then laughed.

The heater did its work, and they were warm for about five minutes before reaching the restaurant. Then it was time to endure the February night air in the walk across the parking lot. Rob made a mental note to go out and start the car before they left, to make her comfortable, and to have her sit in his car while hers warmed up later.

“Oh, shoot,” Julie said as he clicked the button to lock the car. “Can you unlock it for a second? I dropped my phone out of my purse.”

“Sure.”

He unlocked the door, and she opened it to lean in. His eyes bugged out and mouth dropped open when she bent over and her skirt rode up. The rising cloth revealed an inch or two of her bare bottom in a white thong, and he barely got it together before she turned around.

“Brr! Hurry,” she said as she closed the door.

They half-jogged to the restaurant and he got another eyeful — at least in his peripheral vision — as her breasts bounced.

Going to blow the zipper out of these pants before the night is over, he thought as he opened the door to let her in.

****

The second date had gone just as well as the first.

Sitting in the parking lot while her car ran, he told her the story about Dean slipping on the dock plate. She laughed as hard as his friend had.

“Oh my god, that’s so funny,” she said. “That guy creeps me out.”

“Just wait until you get to know him. He gets worse.”

She laughed again and said, “Well, my car should be warmed up. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” He held up crossed fingers and said, “Here’s hoping I get off a little earlier.”

“Early. Late. Doesn’t matter to me. See you tomorrow.”

Oh, hell yes, he thought as she leaned over the center console. He met her in the middle and they shared a brief kiss that sent shivers up and down his spine.

She scrunched up her nose as she sat back, giggled, and said, “Okay, bye.”

“Bye,” he echoed, and then watched as she climbed in her car and drove away.

That kiss was all the encouragement he needed. As soon as he got home, he got on the computer and hit the internet. With only a couple of days left until Valentine’s, the prices of the bouquets were ridiculous, but it was worth it. He hadn’t even asked for her last name yet, but Julie – Operator and the address would be enough to make sure the flowers got to her at work.

With a potential deal-sealer in the pipeline and the show he’d gotten that night fresh in his mind, he had something much better than porn to use for inspiration as he let off a little steam before crashing.

****

The end-of-date kisses grew longer and her texts increasingly naughty as the days went by. The day before Valentine’s, he was confident that the flowers were going to be the key — if he didn’t get in the door tonight. He was fairly sure she’d almost asked to go to his place the night before.

Despite a crappy day at work, he was in a good mood, and it was noticeable.

“I swear I’m going to slap you if you don’t stop grinning,” Rich said as they waited for maintenance to replace a broken motor that had everyone at a standstill. “Where have you been lately? You’re out of here like the Road Runner the second you clock out.”

“Better things to do than go to the bar and talk about this place,” he answered, and then chuckled.

“Ah, you’re getting laid,” Rich guessed.

“Not yet, but close.”

“Hot?”

“Oh, fuck yeah. Eighteen. Blonde. Awesome rack and ass.” He looked around to see if anyone important was in sight and said, “Here, I’ve got a picture.”

He brought up the image she’d sent him from the bathroom and handed it to his friend. Rich’s eyes widened as soon as he saw it and he muttered, “Dude…”

“I know. Fuck.”

“No sincan escort bayan — dude. Do you know who this is?”

Rob shrugged and asked, “What are you talking about?”

“That’s Julie Western. As in Mr. Western. That’s his daughter, man.”

It felt as if all the blood drained out of his face. “You’re fucking with me.”

“No, I’m not fucking with you. You really didn’t know?”

“Oh, son of a bitch,” he groaned as he took his phone back.

“You’ve got some cast iron balls, man,” Rich said.

Shaking his head, Rob said, “I am so dead.”

“But what a way to go,” his friend suggested, and then laughed as he walked away.

He didn’t find it all that funny. He’d hooked up with a hottie who was fun to hang out with, and she was a guaranteed trip to the unemployment line — at the least.

Sure enough, his phone buzzed as he was about to put it back in his pocket. The message from Julie said, “Getting off… Work, you pervert,” followed by a winking emote. “How long are you going to be?”

It was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do in his life to type, “Really late, and I’m beat. I think I need to get some sleep tonight.”

“I’ll beat you,” she replied, adding another wink. “Okay. Get some sleep. Dream about me. Kisses.”

“So dead,” he repeated as he got back to work with a much darker outlook on life.

****

The next day, Rob was so preoccupied with the situation he’d gotten himself into that he completely forgot what day it was. He got a stark reminder shortly before noon when Julie sent him a text.

“Oh my god! The flowers are beautiful! I love them! Thank you!”

“Glad you liked them,” he replied as he mentally kicked himself for not canceling the order.

“Loved,” she corrected him. “Everybody in the office is gushing about them and I’m almost gushing every time I look at them.”

Every suggestive message she sent threatened to give him a raging hard-on as the day went on, even though his replies were carefully framed to seem oblivious to it. When she asked at her quitting time when he would get off work, he replied, “Really late.”

It took about twenty minutes for her next message to arrive. It said, “Well, here’s something to keep your spirits up and encourage you to hurry.”

A flip of his finger scrolled the screen, and his jaw dropped.

The picture was of Julie lying back on a couch. Her skirt was bunched up at her hips, showing off lacy white panties with her hand resting on them. Her other hand was cupping one of the most perfect breasts he’d ever seen in his life, bared by a top pulled up to rest atop the globes. Despite the dire consequences, he was rock hard in seconds.

He had no idea what to do, and slipped his phone back in his pocket. It buzzed a couple more times, but he was afraid to even look. Eventually, he turned it off and begged his supervisor for an early out. Never calling in served him well, and he was able to leave a couple of hours early.

He downed three beers within an hour of arriving home. Until that fateful conversation with Rich, he’d been eagerly anticipating getting into Julie’s pants. He’d been right on the money with the flowers. Now he had the chance, and he didn’t dare take it.

There was no good way out. If he blew her off, she was going to get pissed — with good reason — which could send her running to her father. If he didn’t, he knew he was dead the moment her old man found out. At this point, he doubted that explaining things to her was going to help in the slightest.

A knock on the door snapped him out of his tortured musing, and he went to answer it on autopilot.

“J-julie?” he stammered when he opened the door to see her.

“Why didn’t you answer me? You send me flowers, then I send you naked pictures, and you just stop talking to me?”

“I… I…”

She sighed and said, “You found out who my dad is, didn’t you?”

He didn’t even have to answer. He knew it was written as plain as day on his face.

“I knew it. Can I come in?”

He was about to tell her that it wasn’t a good idea when he saw a door down the hall open. Not willing to risk the chance that the busybody a few doors down knew his boss, he quickly ushered her inside.

She spun with her hands on her hips as soon as he closed the door. “So, that’s it? You find out who my dad is, and you just dump me without even saying why?”

“It’s not like that. I…”

“It looks exactly like that to me.”

“Your dad’s my boss,” he said, and then suddenly realized, “How did you know where I live?”

She shrugged and said, “Dad uses the same password for everything. I went in through his remote access and got your address when you stopped answering my texts and I found out you left work early.” Raising her hand, she poked a finger into his chest and said, “I was on cloud nine and soaking my panties a couple of hours ago. I was so horny I had to get myself off in the bathroom at work.”

He couldn’t concentrate for ankara escort a moment as the mental image of her masturbating in the stalls at work overwhelmed him.

Her eyes flashed and she said, “Fine. Tell me the last few days were all bullshit. Tell me you don’t like me. Tell me you didn’t have fun, and I’ll leave right now.”

Before he could even begin to form a reply, she jerked up her shirt. “Tell me you don’t want me as much as I want you. Go on. Tell me.”

As incredible as her tits looked on the screen of his phone, the pixels were nothing compared to the real thing. The firm globes were still jiggling from falling out of her top. Small areolas of rosy pink surrounded her stiff nipples, which pointed at him as if in accusation.

Her hand snapped out to his crotch. “Tell me you’re not h-hard,” she said, her voice wavering as her fingers closed around the ample evidence that he was getting there — rapidly.

With her standing bare-breasted in front of him and her fingers squeezing his hardening cock, resistance was futile.

“Fuck the job,” he said as he pulled her to him and kissed her hard.

“No, fuck me,” she countered before seeking out his lips again.

They parted with twin gasps, and Julie tore her shirt the rest of the way off. While he was jerking his over his head, she made short work of the button and fly of his jeans. He found the zipper of her skirt almost as quickly.

A flurry of grasping, tugging hands soon left them surrounded by discarded clothing. Julie kicked away the panties stubbornly clinging to one ankle, turned, and bent over to place her hands on the arm of the couch. Rob moved in behind her and squeezed her ass before sliding one hand up to her hip and gripping his cock in the other.

He growled as his cock slipped inside her, and she sucked in a broken gasp. She was soaking wet and virgin-tight — like pure, hot heaven around him. Grunts and whimpers tumbled from Julie’s lips as his cock invaded her, and her fingers curled into claws.

He growled again when he finished burying his cock balls-deep in her eighteen-year-old pussy.

“Oh my fucking god,” she whimpered once he’d stuffed her full.

“Ah, fuck yeah,” he said as he pulled back, and then thrust again.

Julie yelped when his balls slapped against her. “Yes! Fuck me!”

Rob kept his instincts in check, wanting to feel every inch sliding into her satiny sheath. After a few slow strokes, she bent her elbows and rested her head on one of them. The other hand found its way to her clit.

“You feel incredible,” he said as he thrust again — a little harder.

Her voice tight, Julie said, “So good. So big.”

He took it all in. Her long blonde hair half-obscured her face in the sexiest way, rustling in front of her mouth with her increasingly hard breaths. He could feel her fingers brushing against his shaft as she played with her clit, stoking her fires. She twitched every time the swollen head penetrated her deepest depths, and the sounds she made seemed completely beyond her control. All the while, her tight little pussy was milking him.

“Faster?” he asked after a score of slow strokes.

“Uh huh!”

It was exactly what his body wanted to do anyway, so he picked up the pace. The claps of their flesh colliding joined the symphony of her pleasure-filled cries and his grunts. She was so wet and rubbing her clit so fast that he could hear the skitch skitch sound of her fingers at work as well.

Shockwaves rippled through her sexy ass as he drove his cock home. Sliding his left foot forward a couple of inches allowed him to add even more power and speed. She let out her loudest cry yet the first time his shaft dove into her depths after the shift in stance.

After a sharp gasp, she screamed, “Right there. Faster. Harder. Fuck meee!”

“Ah yeah. You getting close?”

“Fuck y-y-yes! Fuck me hard!”

Digging his fingers into her hips, he pulled back as he thrust forward and let her have what she wanted.

Heat swelled in the head and shaft of his cock as he slammed into her, jolting her forward with every stroke. A series of screams burst from her lips — broken by ragged gasps for air. Rob began to growl, feeling the inevitable approach of his own orgasm as he took her hard and fast.

A choked sound resembling a hiccup cut her wail short a few seconds later, and he felt her butt tense up beneath his palms. He drove his cock home a half-dozen times more, and she was there.

Julie lurched as she tumbled into oblivion and loosed a shriek. Her walls clamped down on him so powerfully that he froze for a fraction of a second in shock. That was what pushed him over the edge.

Rob roared as he jammed his cock into her climaxing pussy and blasted cum into her depths. He lost control from the intensity of the orgasm ripping through him; giving short, jerky thrusts as his semen erupted, tickling the slit with the power of the ejaculations. On and on it went, until his head was swimming.

The seconds felt like minutes as they remained locked in beautiful agony. Ever so slowly, Rob recovered his senses to realize they were both gasping and panting for breath. Beads of sweat decorated their bodies and every throb of his still buried cock set off a shudder that she matched.

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The evening after our picnic threesome, Hazel and Sarah had recounted filthy stories. Now it was my turn.

Hazel licked her lips lasciviously and smiled at us both. “Matt,” Sarah continued, “go and get more wine, and then tell us a dirty story.”

I fetched another bottle, and we all settled down again. After this, I promised myself, I was going to strip naked and offer myself to whichever of them would have me, unless there was some action quickly. Or my nob was going to fall off. I wondered if it was possible to have a stroke in your penis.

“OK, this one features you, Sarah – is that all right?”

“Yes!” shouted out Hazel, before Sarah could answer.

“Looks like it,” smiled Sarah. “No, that’s fine. I’d like to hear how it was from your end, so to speak.”

“Good. Right, d’you remember when we were on holiday in Provence, and we went out to that restaurant in Orange?” Sarah nodded. I turned back to Hazel to tell the tale.

“We were having a really good time, and good sex, and everything was perfect, you know? And Sarah volunteered to fulfil an ambition of mine. We were going to go out from our hotel, and wander round town a bit, have a drink somewhere, and find a restaurant – as you do. And when I came out of the bathroom Sarah was dressed, ready to go, putting on her make-up, and she was wearing a skirt and a see-through blouse, and she wasn’t wearing a bra. It was a pale blouse, but with a flowery pattern, and thinner than the one she’s wearing now. It really was quite transparent, and I could see her breasts through it very clearly, you know, I could see all the individual little lumpy bits on her nipples. I was so happy, so pleased she was doing this for me, and she gave me a great big silly smile.

“Just as we went out she stopped me for a kiss, and guided my hands to her bum, and while we were still hugging, lifted her skirt from beneath my hands, and she wasn’t wearing any knickers either! And it wasn’t a very long skirt.

“Well, we walked around Orange, and lots of people looked, or stared, and Sarah kept smiling at me to show she was enjoying it. I was worried people might notice my willy about to burst through my trousers, but no-one was looking at me, strangely. We had a brilliant evening, I kept looking at her tits, and loved seeing all these other men looking at them too. After the meal we walked around a bit more, and ended up at a bar sitting on a wall between the terrace and the pavement. It was pretty busy, loads of people still around. Sarah sat next to me, and after a while lifted one foot on to the wall, with her knee bent to rest her hands on, and left her other leg dangling down. This made her skirt ride right up to her groin, and I was looking at her cunt – and so was everyone else walking past. A surprising number of people didn’t seem to notice, but some did, and you could hear their conversations stop, or see them staring back open escort eryaman mouthed as they passed… It was lovely. She only did it for five minutes, and then she dragged me back to the hotel – I think she was more turned on by it than I was – and she fucked my brains out, kept me up half the night.”

I was sitting on the sofa, and Sarah, on the floor, had moved across to lean against my legs as I spoke. She was looking up at me now, and I stroked her head. She responded by reaching up and putting her hand on my prick, and rubbing it slowly but firmly through my trousers. I sighed, and looked across to Hazel, who was watching Sarah’s hand. Sarah smiled up at me, and carried on. After a minute she spoke.

“Let’s see to this properly.” She pulled down my zip and slipped her fingers inside to feel my prick more closely. She ran her nails across it, through the thin cotton of my boxer shorts, making my buttocks clench as a spasm of pleasure ran down to my balls. Next she withdrew her hand and fumbled with my belt, and the button at the top of the zip, until my trousers were undone. She grabbed the waist-band, and I lifted my bum so that she could pull them down and off.

“Now then,” she continued, undoing the tiny button at the fly of my boxers. Hazel was leaning forward across the arm of her chair, mouth slightly open as she stared at Sarah’s hands, which now reached into my underwear and held my hard cock. She stretched the fly to one side, and pulled out my penis, and held it upright. She gripped it lightly, and looked across to Hazel.

“Would you like some of this?” she asked, politely.

“Oh, yes please,” Hazel responded, equally calmly and politely, and she got up and stepped over to us. She dropped to her knees in front of me, across my legs from Sarah. I looked at her eyes as she looked at my prick at close quarters, seeing how she seemed almost cross-eyed from studying it so closely. She tucked her hair behind her ears, first one side then the other, quickly, as girls can. I noticed her ear-rings, antique silver with green stones, an inch or so long and swinging quickly back and forth. Keeping her hands on the floor to support her, she leaned forward swiftly, opening her mouth as she advanced, and took the first two inches of my prick into her lovely mouth. Sarah continued to hold the bottom of it, and Hazel flicked her tongue around the top of my prick, keeping her lips sealed over it. She sucked lightly, and bobbed her head up and down a couple of times, looking at Sarah now.

Sarah let go of me, and moved round behind Hazel, who looked up at me now, smiling with her eyes as she continued to suck, lick and lift her head up and down simultaneously. I felt the tiniest nip from the edge of her teeth now and then, but mostly her mouth was smooth and soft, and felt like the silkiest and warmest place my penis had ever been. Pleasure was shooting through my cock like little ankara escort darts, and I knew I wasn’t going to last long.

Sarah reached round in front of Hazel from behind her with both hands, and began undoing buttons on her blouse. Most of this was hidden from my view by my legs, but I could see the gap in the blouse at her neck getting wider and wider with each button undone, until I saw the blouse swing loose at Hazel’s right side, but still tantalisingly hiding her breast. Sarah took hold of the shoulders, and Hazel lifted her hands from the floor, and stretched her arms backwards so that Sarah could pull the blouse down them. As she did, Hazel’s beautiful right tit came into view, her nipple hard and excited.

Sarah threw the blouse to one side, and reached around Hazel again, this time cupping her breasts in her hands, and massaging gently. This was doing amazing things for me, and my prick felt as if it were swelling even bigger. Sarah’s hands slipped down slightly, and her fingers moved to Hazel’s nipples – at least, I presumed to both, although I could still only see the right breast. Sarah’s right fore-finger and thumb gripped Hazel’s large nipple and squeezed it, and twisted it gently. Hazel gave a muffled moan into my cock, and her tongue licked more vigorously across the tip. She sucked harder, and her head bobbed faster as Sarah pinched her nipples and stroked her lovely tits.

I managed to gasp out, “I’m going to come soon,” about half a minute before I did.

“Good,” said Sarah, simply, and smiled at me. “Are you enjoying the show?”

I shook my head slowly, in wonder rather than denial. “Yes, oh God, yes.” My words turned to grunts as the beginnings of an orgasm took over my body. My hips thrust upwards in time to Hazel’s fantastic sucking, hard now, no licking, just suck, concentration on her face. Sarah leaned over her shoulder to watch, pinching hard at Hazel’s nipple, forcing from her a muffled cry of pleasure and maybe pain. I could feel my orgasm preparing itself in the very base of my prick, and I groaned and gasped at the fantastic blow job Hazel was giving me, and the wonderful sight of Sarah fondling her breasts.

My cock seemed to grow, to fill Hazel’s soft mouth, still no teeth, and Hazel looked down at it and sucked more of it into her, so that most of it was gone at each bob and thrust, plunging into her warm, wet mouth, sucking and gripping me, like a cunt, her saliva shining on the sides of my cock, my cock filling her mouth, touching both cheeks, her tongue and the roof of her mouth, and nudging the back of her throat, pushing and grinding into her, and then spunk jetting out, flooding her mouth, intense pleasure racking my body, spasm after spasm making me arch my back and push my prick harder into her face, Hazel sucking harder than ever, but with less in her mouth, still moving her head up and down, and now my spunk elvakent escort on the shaft of my prick, squeezing out from between her tightly-stretched red lips, pushed down my shaft by them, and then smearing over them and on to her cheek, more sperm running out now and down on to my boxer shorts, Hazel still moaning from Sarah’s groping of her tits, and her throat moving as she swallows spunk, my spunk pouring down her throat, great gushes of cum still pouring from my hard cock into her gorgeous tight mouth, more spasms of heaven through my body, and then less and less sperm pumping out, Hazel swallowing more, sucking less hard, my prick losing its iron-hardness, my body falling back into the sofa, letting it support me, everything relaxing and subsiding, Hazel looking up at me, and letting her head fall to one side, still with my cock in her mouth, to rest on my thigh, her cheek in the spilt sperm, more sperm on her other cheek as Sarah leans round her again to kiss her cheek, and Hazel smiling at me with her eyes again as she sucks the last spunk from my cock and around her mouth, and swallows a final time.

After a minute or so Hazel brought a hand up and held my cock gently as she removed it from her mouth, and laid it gently on my thigh, in a smear of my come. She lifted her head, and I saw my sperm on both cheeks, a smudge on the right and a dribble on the left which had somehow stretched itself from the corner of her mouth to the corner of her eye, and was now beginning to run. She had more sperm all around her lips, and glistening on her chin. Sarah’s hands now rested on her thighs, and her breasts looked large and heavy as she knelt slightly forward. She smiled at me through the spunk, and licked her lips.

“I’ll get some tissues, shall I?” offered Sarah, getting to her feet.

“Yes, Matt’s made a bit of a mess,” responded Hazel, still smiling at me. I smiled back.

“Thank you,” I said simply. “That was the best blow job I’ve ever had.”

“My pleasure, darling,” said Hazel, glancing up at Sarah, returning with a box of Kleenex. “I’ve always wanted to do that to you, since I first met you. So now I’ve fulfilled an ambition. Perhaps you can help me with another ambition later…”

“This wouldn’t be similar to the ambition I’ve had since I met you, would it…” I struggled for the words, but settled for the simple version. “…To fuck you?”

“That’s the one,” said Hazel.”

“Excuse me,” interrupted Sarah, “I don’t like to break into your important relationship, but, remember me?” She wasn’t serious.

“How could we forget you, my honey?” soothed Hazel. “I think we could find something to make you very happy, don’t you Matt?”

“Ooh, I should think so, between us.”

Hazel lifted my prick lightly and wiped the sperm from it and my leg, then from her face. “Anyway, was that your rude story, Matt? It was rude, but it wasn’t really filthy, was it? We’ve set a higher standard than that today – do you want another go?”

“Oh, that was just the prelude. The rude bit’s still to come – so to speak,” I reassured her. “Shall I go on? Why don’t you two get comfortable on the sofa while I’m talking?”

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