Ay: Mart 2023

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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I met Carlos and Andrea about a year ago. They were older than the people I normally hand around with, both well into their thirties, compared to my early twenties. For some reason we just hit it off and we became good friends.

Carlos was a handsome man, had a good job, and worked hard at it. Andrea also worked, although I suspect she didn’t need to, as Carlos made good money. Not having any children was a disappointment to them but apart from that they seemed to enjoy life.

Carlos was very much the extrovert, loud and boisterous, which made it all the stranger that I liked him anyway, me being a bit of an introvert. Andrea was also somewhat of an extrovert, although not as noisy about it as Carlos.

What I found odd about their relationship was this. Carlos had the heart of a lion. He’d fight wolves bare-handed if they threatened his Andrea. Andrea, on the other hand, had a spine of pure jelly. She really hated confrontation and would hastily back away if one threatened. (Unless the confrontation was with Carlos and then she was prepared to slap him down.)

I was having coffee in the café where Andrea had her part-time job. It was a slack time for the café so Andrea sat opposite me for a bit of a chat. Typically this meant that she’d talk and I’d listen, listening and giving a sympathetic ear being my forte.

On this particular occasion she was bewailing the fact that Carlos’s niece was staying with them for a couple of weeks. According to Andrea, Chloe was a lovely young thing, a blonde who was eighteen, and she was a golden girl in that she was an eighteen carat gold-plated bitch. Ungrateful and with never a civil word for anyone. Andrea was swallowing her pride for Carlos’s sake (plus that dread of confrontation).

I sympathised with her but that was all I could do, except tell her she should maybe drop a gentle hint to Carlos to lean on his niece a little. She gave me an are-you-crazy look.

“A gentle hint?” she asked, sounding completely incredulous. “You men are all alike. You don’t notice gentle hints. You manage to miss blatant hints. With something like this the only way to get a hint though Carlos’s thick skull would be to drive it home with a hammer. And then he’d just wonder if I’d misunderstood something his sweet little niece said.”

Well, she knew Carlos better than me. I subtly changed the subject.

“Carlos said he is going to trim those trees at the back of your place,” I said, knowing those trees had been an irritant to her for a while. They were badly overgrown and a good trim would work wonders with them.

“Oh, yes, and about time,” she said, smiling again.

“He gave me a call, wanting to borrow my chain saw. Tell him I’ll drop it off first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Make it nice and early. Carlos starts work at six and I head out for an early shift about eight. Any time after that and you’ll have to deal with Chloe and she’ll probably drop the thing in the bin and forget about it.”

I assured Andrea that I’d be there nice and early, but I’d be stuffed if I was going to be there before six to deliver it to Carlos. I told her I’d make it around eight, figuring that even if I ran a few minutes late she wouldn’t mind waiting those few minutes.

It turned out that I was there a couple of minutes before eight, nice and timely, with a full scale battle Tandoğan Escort raging inside. The inhabitants of the house didn’t hear me ringing the bell, being too noisy themselves, so I trotted around to the back door and went in.

Andrea was almost backed up to the stove by this teenage harridan who was yelling at her. Surprisingly enough all the shrieking and carrying on were coming from the young termagant, who I assumed was Chloe. From what I could gather from all the yelling Chloe was demanding that Andrea should be cooking breakfast for Chloe. Andrea’s feeble protests that she had to go out were ruthlessly ignored. If she’d really had to go to work she’d have already left but she hadn’t.

“Enough,” I yelled, and my deep voice booming across the kitchen shut the women up.

Andrea was the first to recover.

“Oh, Jake,” she said, sounding happy, “you’re here.”

“Indeed I am, complete with chainsaw. I’ll just stick this up here out of the way until Carlos gets home.” I reached up and put the chainsaw on top of a cupboard, out of Chloe’s easy reach. I turned to Andrea with a smile. “Who’s the loud mouthed little bitch?” I asked Andrea, smiling as her mouth dropped open in shock.

“Oh, ah, this is Chloe, our niece. She’s staying with us for a couple of weeks.” She threw Chloe a hasty look and then turned back to me, grabbing her handbag as she did so. “Thank you for bringing that around, Jake. Sorry, but I have to go. Work, you know.”

With that she turned and bolted, happy to be leaving the scene of the battle. I turned and smiled at Chloe.

“Hullo, Chloe,” I said. “I’m Jake. A friend to Carlos and Andrea.”

“I don’t give a fuck who you are,” she shrieked. “How dare you barge into the house that way? Have you no manners you fucking moron? You’ve got a nerve, calling me a bitch.”

I held up a hand.

“Ah, excuse me, but I said loud mouthed little bitch, but I’ll admit that I could be wrong. You do seem to want to demonstrate that you’re a big bitch.”

“How dare you,” she yelled. (One of those who could give it but not take it, apparently.) “Get out of our house immediately.”

“Carlos’s house,” I pointed out. “And Andrea’s, of course, although you wouldn’t know it the way you were being so unconscionable rude to your hostess. Ah, I think you should know that I didn’t appreciate the way you were talking to Andrea. Abusing her, I should say.”

“Like I should give a flying fuck what you think,” she scoffed. “You’re just a loud mouthed prick who had nothing to do with the matter.”

She smiled sweetly at me as she said that, and I have to admit it made her look charming.

“Quite the potty-mouth on you isn’t there,” I said. “You see that hook up on the ceiling?”

She glanced up at the ceiling and then back at me, looking slightly confused.

“What?” she said.

“Oh, it’s gone,” I said, trying to sound disappointed. “That means I can’t dangle you from it while I whip you. Quelle pitié. That means what a pity, in French.”

“Oh, you think you’re so fucking hysterical, don’t you?”

“Um, no, I think I’m humorous. Now you, you were nearly hysterical when I came in.”

She was nearly hysterical with fury right now, too. I supposed I’d better go before she really lost it.

“I suppose I’d better be moving Tunalı Escort along. I can’t spend the whole day here chatting to you, fun though it has been. Ah, before I go, a subtle reminder to you to be nicer to Andrea, or risk upsetting me. I know you won’t want to upset me.”

If the silly girl had been thinking she’d have moved right out of my reach, but thinking seemed to be something she wasn’t very good at. I took her arm and spun her around, while my free hand came sweeping around and landed on her bottom with a very loud spank.

She gave a shriek and jumped into the air, her hands coming around to clutch at her bottom.

“I-I can’t believe you did that. You’re not my father. You can’t spank me.”

“I can’t? Odd. I thought I just did. That’s what happens to naughty little girls. And big ones, sometimes. If you don’t believe me drop your pyjamas and I’ll give you a proper spanking.”

There are times when you should just keep your big mouth shut and it turned out that that was one of them. Chloe blushed rather fiercely and pushed her pyjama trousers down. Either she slept without panties or they went down with her trousers. Her top, well it nearly covered her groin, but nearly covered is not the same as covered. What the hell was I supposed to do now? Spank her, I guess. I sat down on a kitchen chair and patted my lap, effectively inviting her to bend over.

Still blushing she moved slowly over to where I was sitting. I could see that she was torn two ways, wanting to back off quickly while at the same time wondering what it would be like. Her prurient curiosity won out and she found herself standing next to me while I eased her forward until she was lying across my knee, her top riding up to completely expose her bottom, a bottom with one red hand-print conflicting with the natural white of her skin.

Her legs had drifted apart, exposing her mound, her lips plump and full, just very slightly parted. I made a mental note that I was supposed to be spanking her, not molesting her.

I brought my hand down smartly on one round cheek (the one without the hand-print) while amplifying on my little lecture. I mentioned the courtesy due from her as a guest in the house, especially to her hostess whose house it was. I mentioned her rudeness to a visitor to the house, me, and I told her what I thought of her somewhat crude language.

All the time I lectured her I paid loving attention to her bottom, warming it up very nicely. She squeaked and squealed and apologised, and stayed right where she was, letting the spanking continue, without the slightest semblance of a struggle. Her bottom was nicely flushed and probably smarting by the time I decided that enough was enough.

Her bottom wasn’t the only thing affected by the spanking. Her pudenda were also nicely flushed. They were also swollen and pursed, her inner lips protruding. From the glisten of dew along her lips she must have been feeling a little warm in some sensitive places.

I swung her to her feet and she stood there, facing me, her hands going around to soothe her bottom. Naturally enough this had the effect of pushing her top up a bit, leaving her even more exposed.

“Take off your top,” I told her, and her face regained her blush.

“Oh, no,” she said, sounding pathetically put upon, “you’re going to rape Türbanlı Escort me, aren’t you.” Not that the lament stopped her from taking her top off. Very nice breasts.

“Don’t be silly,” I told her as I loosened my trousers and pushed them down out of the way. I leaned back a little in the chair so my cock was easier to view. “I’m just going to give you a chance to explore your own sexuality.”

I reached for her, hands on her waist, and drew her closer until she was straddling me. Then I released her.

“Anytime you’re ready, just settle down onto me,” I said, watching as she looked down at the gently moving erection right in front of her.

Chloe was now looking a little confused. Me grabbing her and raping her would have been acceptable, but her actually agreeing to do this? She wanted sex but she didn’t want to agree. I decided to give her a hand.

“Come along,” I said, hands closing over her bottom and pulling her slightly closer. “Settle down now.”

She slowly settled down, gasping softly when she found my cock was now touching her. She made a light whining sound in protest, but still kept moving, sinking down onto me, my cock slowly pressing up into her. Not a virgin I noticed, my cock sliding reasonable easily into her. I say reasonably because she was quite tight, even if she was wet and ready.

She finally settled onto my lap, her groin rubbing firmly against me. Now I started giving some small thrusts up into her, and she responded, starting to bounce with increasing eagerness. I was rubbing her breasts, enjoying the feel of them, letting her know that I was enjoying the feel of her.

Slightly humiliating, but I don’t think she was really registering me as a man. I was just the bearer of the cock that she was riding, and her enthusiasm was increasing. I could see her eyes were starting to close as she lost herself to her feelings.

I was driving into her quite firmly, knowing that she was with me. Pressure was building up inside me and I had no doubt that the same sort of thing was happening to her. I finally decided that it was time for a change.

I gave an extra hard thrust and, as I drew back again, I lifted her up and off.

Chloe was all, “What? What? What?” and I was rising to my feet and turning her around and bending her forward over the kitchen table. Now I drove firmly into her while she screamed and pushed almost frantically against me, determined to take me as deep as possible.

Now I was really driving into her, thoroughly enjoying myself, and Chloe was squealing and bucking under me, crying for more and more. The pitch of her voice became shriller and I could hear the frenzy she was feeling. Then she noisily screamed and climaxed, while I let loose myself, giving her all I had.

We pulled apart and she turned around and looked at me, leaning back against the table and breathing hard.

“You raped me. . .” she started, but I laughed.

“Me? I just sat there,” I pointed out, while she blushed.

“Um, I was too scared not to?” she offered, sighing when I laughed.

“Uh-huh. And I suppose I ripped your pyjamas off?”

“You spanked me,” she offered, wanting something to blame me for.

“Guilty, and if you misbehave I may just have to drop by and administer another spanking,” I told her. “The trouble is, Andrea might be here next time and I’d have to spank you in front of her. Wouldn’t that be interesting?”

Oddly enough the look on her face made me thing that she found the idea intriguing. I wondered if she’d do something to try to force the issue. Maybe a warning to Andrea wouldn’t go amiss.

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

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

It was warm and totally dark except for the few burning candles around my room. I was trying hard to keep calm as I half laid, half reclined close to where my bed met the corner of the room. I breathed slowly and deeply, my heart refusing to stop thudding in my chest. You’ll be here soon, and of made sure to tease me by telling me about the toy buzzing against your clit while you are driving.

I imagine cupping my hand over your little mound, wondering how wet you will feel. I resist the constant urge to shove my hand down the front of my jeans and wrap my fingers around my thick, growing erection.

I allow myself to lightly trace the outline of my bulge with a couple fingers. I adjust the blindfold and place my hands back on the bed away from my body.

Eventually, I hear the outside door to my room softly sliding open as you step into the room. I hear you moving closer and I lick my lips. Then there is movement on the bed. I can feel you crawling, hands-and-knees towards me until your hands plant on either side of my chest and I feel your soft lips press in to mine. We continue kissing, slowly heating up further while our lips slide around, making soft little pops from the suction. My hand laces into your hair, pulling you deeper into our make out and you move even closer without breaking our kiss.

I feel your leg lift and come down between mine, lowering yourself until you’re straddling my left leg. Your hands begin exploring and fondling me while our tongues continue exploring each others mouths. You pinch one nipple then the other forcing out a muffled “Mmm” into your mouth. Your hips start to gyrate slow but firmly. I adjust my leg so you are able to grind the hot area between your legs down against me. I move my free hand down your back, over your hip and calf, feeling your curves and soft skin before sliding up, settling on the firm curvature of your ass and squeezing.

Your Mamak Escort grinding is becoming more deliberate, the sensual movement of your body bringing both of us to higher levels of arousal. Your hand rubs the bulge of my hard cock and you shift it downward, aiming it down my leg and move over it. You’re hand grips the back of my neck as you grind your hips down and along the entire length of my stiff cock.

The heat from your grinding is intense and breaking our passionate kiss, you take one of my hard nipples into your hot mouth. I groan as I feel your devious little tongue flicking my nipple in between the sucking and kisses, and I am certain I feel the wetness from your pussy rivaling the precum dripping from my hard cock.

While your mouth plays from one nipple to the other, I nearly rip off the blindfold before, my hands grip your thin shirt. Reaching a hand under, I unhook your bra while my other hand slides beneath your leggings and palms a handful of your wonderful ass. You stop teasing me so that I can pull your top and bra off, freeing your breasts. Your head moves again to tease me but my hand in your hair pulls your mouth up to my mine for a deep kiss.

You read my mind and let my hand pull you up further so your tits are within range of my mouth. Using a hand squeezing under the orb of your tit, you aim your hard nipple straight into my mouth. I savor the texture as I suck more of your tit into my mouth, letting my tongue play over and around the hard nub as I suck. You moan, and guide your other nipple into my mouth while my hands roam across your back and tight ass.

My hand snakes under your leggings and under your thong, squeezing your firm ass before sliding my fingers tantalizingly slow down between your ass cheeks, letting my fingertips brush against your tight backdoor- finally stopping as I reach your wetness.

I bring your lips Ofise Gelen Escort to mine for a deep kiss, biting your lip softly. Your hand is rubbing the damp bulge in my jeans and I am deliberately pulling your leggings down, over one hip at a time. Your movements help me to bring the rest of your tight leggings down off of your smooth legs, and your fingers work at the button fly of my jeans trying to free my hard cock.

After battling our lips back and forth in a heated make out, I slide my body down into a laying position, moving under your almost naked body. You pause as if undecided towards protesting or giving in, and I take advantage of the hesitation to lift your leg until your knees are pressing into the bed on both sides of my head.

A devilish grin finds my mouth, and with my eyes still covered I grasp your ass with both hands and pull your wet pussy to my waiting mouth. My lips kiss the tiny, damp fabric that covers your mound, my hands kneading and massaging your tight ass and smooth legs, before moving the sexy black material to the side.

I desperately want to devour the delicious, wet pussy that’s practically gyrating on my face but only allow my lips to brush the smooth skin around your delectable outer lips. I give you slow, deliberate kisses with plenty of suction. First on your outer lips, then another directly over your clit. Kissing the inside of each of your smooth thighs halfway to your knees and back, before placing a long, soft kiss on your clit, letting the tip of my tongue knife out to stroke up the length your wet slit.

Your hands pull my mouth tighter against your sweet mound. You finally rip off the blindfold and looking up, I see your face contorted by waves of pleasure. You caress your tits, twisting your firm nipples with two fingers and breathing heavier the closer my tongue comes to pleasuring your throbbing clit. I am Otele Gelen Escort as hungry for you as you are begging to be eaten, so I end my teasing and firmly slide all of my warm tongue from your wet opening to the top of your clit, tasting you.

You moan again, finally getting licked and your hands continue kneading your tits. My tongue parts your lips and slowly I slide the length of my tongue inside your tight pussy, feeling your hips move, trying to get more of my tongue inside you.

You taste so good, and I fuck you with my tongue for awhile, my hands exploring the perfect skin of your back and ass, then moving my mouth over your throbbing clit. My lips open and you feel the heat of my mouth add to the heat of your pussy, as my soft lips form a seal around your clit- softly sucking it inside my mouth, flicking my tongue back and forth against it, flat and firm until your hips are moving by themselves.

The suction from my mouth pulls your sensitive clit into the strokes of my tongue again and again, and I lick your swollen bud firmly with my tongue flat, then flick the tip of my tongue back and forth over it making you moan in pleasure. As my tongue and mouth drive you to heights you know and love, I slowly, deliberately slide two fingers deep inside your tight pussy, just how you love it, causing you to scream in pleasure and bringing you very close to a fierce orgasm.

Your movements drive my tongue and mouth against your clit even harder and my fingers deeper against your g spot, until your moans and ragged breathing is non stop.

I love it when you cum on my mouth, riding my face, and I am about to enjoy it once again. My free hand moves from your firm ass down to wrap my fingers around my throbbing, hard cock. You shriek as your orgasm explodes within your body! I rub your G spot faster and harder making you scream, while licking your swollen clit savagely. Spurts of your wetness spray around my fingers, covering my face, as you squirt and moan and scream in ecstasy, bucking against my mouth and fingers until your body is spent and panting and I remove my mouth from your sensitive clit and delicious wet pussy… for now, but we have only just began.

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

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

A Not So Friendly Wager

Mick always dreaded going to English literature class and this Monday morning was no different. He just could not connect with the subject matter and was struggling to keep his grade up where he wanted it to be. Today they would be getting their midterms back and he was not looking forward to seeing his test score. Having Whitney Harrington sitting next to him only irritated him even more about the class. Mick also figured that he would catch a raft from Abby for cutting out early from the Halloween party. He had managed to dodge her over the weekend but there would be no avoiding her momentarily.

The professor was standing at the door returning the tests to the students as Mick entered the classroom. Walking to his seat with midterm in hand he saw that he had beaten Abby and Zoe to class as usual but not Whitney and her sorority sister Lauren Palmer. Whitney turned to him as he pulled out his chair and gave him a quick, forced smile to acknowledge his presence which he returned in kind.

Mick opened the folded-over sheets to find that he had scored a seventy-eight on his midterm. He huffed in frustration as he had studied pretty hard for the exam with considerable help from Abby.

“Studying helps,” said Whitney arrogantly, “You might want to try it for the final.”

Mick turned to her dumbfounded. “Are you serious?” he asked.

“Yes. It has been known to help,” she replied.

“NO,” said Mick, obviously rankled by her comment. “Are you serious as in you haven’t said two words to me all semester,” began his diatribe. “I say hello to you and you can barely muster the courtesy to return the favor,” continued Mick,” but you can go out of your way to take a swipe at me like you just did?”

At that moment unbeknownst to Mick, Abby had walked up behind him. She grabbed him by the arm and turned him back in her direction. “Hey stranger! Good to see you,” she said to him, “I was going to file a missing person’s report.”

Mick replied in depressed tone, “Hey. Please don’t rag on me about the party… Not now.” As Abby asked him what was the matter she saw his test on the table and noticed the grade. She mouthed a silent “oh” in Mick’s direction. With his back to Whitney he discreetly made a pointing gesture at her and said quietly to Abby, “And this one just made a smart-assed remark about it.”

“Okay, please take your seats so we can get started,” bellowed the instructor. Abby looked at Mick and with a frown said, “Who cares what she thinks?”

The professor used most of the session to discuss the midterm questions and the answers. Towards the end of the class he remarked, “Now some did not do so well on the exam and a few of you are borderline for the semester. As I said when I handed out the syllabus at the beginning of the year, I don’t believe in grading on the curve so your grades are what they are. However, I’ve decided that the student who turns in the term paper that in my opinion demonstrates exemplary effort and excellence, I will award them five extra points which will be added to their final grade for the semester. That means if you are averaging a sixty-five, your final grade will be a seventy.”

Between the noise of students shifting in their seats and their murmuring to one another, it became difficult to hear the instructor. “Did he say five extra points added to the final grade?” Mick blurted out to no one in particular. “Man would that be of help,” he thought.

“Well I don’t really need them,” he heard Whitney say, “but I’ll just have to finish with a 4.1 instead of a 4.0 in this class I guess.”

Mick turned to Whitney and blasted, “You really are a stuck-up little snot, aren’t you?”

Whitney just sat there for a few seconds giving him and indignant look before informing him, “It’s not being stuck up when it is fact.”

Students had begun to exit the classroom but all that Mick noticed was an anger rising steadily inside him. Abby could sense it too by his body language and she placed her hand on his arm and said, “Come on let’s go.” Mick did not turn around but responded by putting his index finger in the air and saying, “One second,” without bothering to turn in Abby’s direction. Unfortunately he let his temper choose his next words for him.

“Want to make a bet?” he challenged Whitney, “I’ll bet you I get those five points and not you.”

She stared blankly back at Mick for a few seconds before closing her eyes and laughing to herself. “I guess you probably don’t know this, but I am a literature and languages major, and I am here on partial scholarship for it,” she told him.

“Then you shouldn’t have anything to worry about, now shouldn’t you?” Mick replied.

“Let me guess. You want to put twenty dollars on it?” said Whitney snidely.

“First, I don’t want or need your money,” Mick stated confidently. “I doubt it!” she retorted disparagingly. “I had some much higher stakes in mind,” said Mick. “Okay,” said Whitney, “Let’s hear this.”

Mick started in. “I don’t have rich parents to pay Batıkent Escort my way–I work and pay my own tuition. Between working and studying, sometimes I don’t get to my laundry and my room gets dirty,” he said before continuing. “I saw you in your little French maid costume at the party. Pretty ironic choice seeing who was wearing it,” Mick told her. Whitney let out an indignant huff as he continued. “If I win, you come to my dorm room in your little servant’s outfit and you will do exactly what I say, and everything that I say, for two hours,” stated Mick, “And I mean EVERYTHING and ANYTHING I say… Do you understand?”

“And what are you putting up for this wager?” Whitney inquired in her normal tone.

“Name a fair price,” Mick replied. “Five-hundred dollars,” spat Whitney. “Done!” Mick shot back, his words coming again without much thought prior to giving them.

Condescendingly Whitney said, “Usually I give money to charitable causes but I’m going to enjoy taking it from one this time.”

“Then we have a deal?” Mick asked.

“I’m not sure I can trust you to not renege when you lose,” she replied.

Mick said, “Well seeing that a neutral party can’t hold your part of the wager like they can hold mine, I guess you are just going to have to trust me.”

Whitney stood up and said, “Well I guess I see another purse or set of boots in my future, not that I don’t have more than what I know what to do with already.” She then pushed past Abby and Zoe as Lauren followed. Mick stood up and looked at Abby who just shook her head at him, before turning and walked away.

On the Saturday after Mick and Whitney had their dust-up, Abby woke to the sound of someone knocking rapidly on her dorm room door. Sitting up she looked at her alarm clock which read 7:48 a.m. Bleary-eyed she walked over and opened the door and Mick burst in. “I need to borrow your car for the day,” he blurted.

Abby brought her finger to her lips and shushed him saying in a faint voice, “You’ll wake Zoe.”

“Abby,” he replied, “me banging on the door didn’t wake her.”

“I can’t believe you woke me up this early on a Saturday morning,” she said sounding annoyed because she was. “What is wrong with your car?” she inquired.

“Um, nothing,” he said, “Nothing more than usual.”

“So are you going to get around to telling me why you need my car so I can go back to bed?” Abby asked him.

“I want to go up to Denver for the day and the last thing I need is for my heap give me trouble while I’m up there in the land of dope fiends,” he told her before saying further, “It is over an hour away and I just don’t trust my car.”

Abby went and sat back down on her bed. “Why are you going to Denver? Don’t you work tonight?” she asked.

“For my English Lit paper,” he said, “My topic is American West poetry and apparently there are some original manuscripts and documents at the public library and historical society. Harold something, I can’t remember his name. I’m swapping a shift at the bar so I can go.”

Abigail looked at him expressionless and silent for a moment. “Listen… This bet with Whitney… I don’t think it’s a good idea” she told Mick, “I’m afraid it is beginning to consume you.”

“I’d never hear the end of it for calling it off and I don’t want to call it off,” Mick replied. With a hint of desperation in his voice, Mick told his friend that, “I actually do need to do well on this paper and could really use the extra points.”

“I know, I know,” said Abigail. “I’d just prefer…” her voice trailing off.

Abby reached into her nightstand beside her bed and handed Mick her keys. “You know the rules,” she stated clearly, “You scratch it, crash it, let it get stolen–“

“I know and I will take good care of it I promise,” he interrupted. He gave her a quick hug, looked at her and said, “Thank you, and I promise I am going all out for the right reasons. I want to do well on this paper.” With that he turned and hurried out her door closing it behind him.

Mick’s visit to the historical society had yielded more information than he expected but he had spent most of the day there. He did not arrive at the public library until almost 4:00 p.m. which only left him one hour at best. If he was unable to get what he needed on this trip, he was not sure when his schedule would allow him to return, if at all.

An elderly gentleman at the information desk directed him to third floor in the north wing where the special collections department was located. When Mick walked through the ornate brass door he marveled at the large, open room. The shelves were made of a richly colored wood as were the wainscoted walls. The high, vaulted ceiling contained frescos depicting the history of the area. In the center of the room was a long, sturdy wooden reading table with Tiffany style lamps at each of the seats.

Mick walked over to the curator’s desk to give them the number of the manuscript he wished to have pulled but no one was there. He needed the material Beşevler Escort and he needed it fast, and became anxious and annoyed as the seconds ticked by. Mick was just about ready to go wander the large room to try and find an employee to help him when an attractive woman approached. “Do you need some help?” she asked Mick with a quiet voice. “Yes, thank you,” Mick replied, handing her a note card with the manuscript catalogue number on it. “I’ll have to retrieve that from the vault in the back,” she said before instructing him to, “Go have a seat and I will bring it to you.”

Mick again felt uneasy. This sounded like it was going to take some time. He went and sat down and pulled a pen and notepad from his backpack so he could get right down to business when the manuscript arrived. Fortunately it did not take long at all as Mick spied the woman returning with the material soon after he settled in. As she approached he noticed how tall she was, her long legs disappearing into a navy colored skirt several inches above her knees. She sported horned-rim glass and her long black hair was pulled back into a messy bun. “A hot, nerdy librarian… How about that?” he thought to himself, rather amused by the attractive young woman.

Mick was reading as fast as he could when an announcement blared out from the library speaker that the library would be closing in fifteen minutes. He knew that would not be enough time to finish so he decided to start photocopying the pages of manuscript to take back with him. Mick walked over to the photocopier and began feeding it dollar bills which he seemed to have enough of for the task. He was halfway done when he once again the silence was broken by the public address system announcing that the library was now closed and everyone was required to exit. Mick was so engrossed in completing his task that he had not noticed that everyone else had already left the room. He looked around and spotted the librarian at the doors locking them. As she came strolling back past Mick he pleaded, “Is there any way you could give me five more minutes?” knowing he would need at least twice that amount.

“I still have some work to do,” she replied, “I have no issue with you staying as long as I do.” Mick thanked her profusely and the woman asked, “Working on a school project?”

“Yes,” said Mick, telling her that “I’m doing a paper for English literature.”

The woman stuck out her hand and said, “My name is Julie.”

“I’m Mick,” he told her as he shook her hand, “Nice to meet you and thanks again.”

“Not a problem,” she replied before further saying, “I’m actually glad to have someone here after closing.”

Mick inquired, “Why is that? Is the place haunted?”

Julie laughed and said no, then told Mick that, “We have some problems with vagrants which congregate in the area. There is a soup kitchen down the street and between meals they will come in the library and hang out during the day. Every now and then security misses one hiding in a stairwell or bathroom after closing.”

“That’s probably not good,” Mick interrupted.

“No it’s not,” said Julie as she continued, “A few weeks ago I was by myself and ran into one after hours in the elevator. There was no one around. It was very unsettling.”

“I guess so,” he replied.

Julie told Mick that a few times she has been walking to her car and the panhandlers have gotten a little aggressive with her, and even though security provides escorts to the lot, there is not always someone available.

Mick asked her, “The self-pay lot around the corner?”

“That’s the one,” she replied.

“That’s where I am parked,” said Mick, “I can definitely walk down with you as it is the least I could do for letting me stay.”

Julie smiled at Mick and thanked him. “I have to get work,” she said. “Me too,” replied Mick.

As Julie moved about the room shutting down the area for the weekend, Mick couldn’t help but follow her movements with his eyes as he worked to complete his own task. She began to return books to a case near the copy machine which required the use of a small step stool. He watched as she stretched to reach the top shelf, making her skirt ride up slightly. Mick let out a soft “ooh” and tried to concentrate on his copying.

Mick had just finished his last copy when he looked over to see Julie at the reading table turning off the lamps. Just then she seemed to stumble and she grabbed the edge of the table to catch herself. She then turned around and leaned back against it putting both of her hands down along the edge of large desk to support her weight. From the sound of it, Mick assumed she was in some discomfort. He immediately walked over and could see by her stance she was trying to keep the weight off of her right foot. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Stupid high heels,” she said with an annoyed tone.

He asked, “Did you twist your ankle.”

“No, but I get these wicked cramps in my calves sometimes and I definitely have one now,” Julie told him, “I keep Büyükesat Escort telling myself not to wear these shoes but I don’t listen.”

Mick inquired, “Is there anything I can do?” “Probably not,” she replied, “although stretching usually helps it some.”

Again, Mick offered to help Julie and directed her to hop up on the top of table which she did. He grabbed her right leg just above the ankle and raised it up straightening her appendage. He then began to gently push the ball of her foot back towards her shin stretching her calf muscle. “We would get cramps and pulls all the time during P.T. in the service,” he said, “and we’d help each other stretch them out.”

“I’ve been getting these a lot lately,” she admitted before further telling him that, “Turning thirty sucks.”

Mick chuckled, “I don’t think you’re quite ready for a walker.” He had figured she probably had a few years on him, but not that many as Julie looked quite young.

Mick pulled up a chair and sat down. He rested her foot on the top of his thigh and began to massage her lower leg. “Wow,” he exclaimed, “I can definitely feel a knot in there.”

“You’re doing a great job,” she said. “It’s definitely starting to feel better–thanks.”

Mick wasn’t sure if it was because of the way she got up onto the table or because of the way she was sitting, but Julie’s skirt hem had significantly migrated up her thighs, and neither of them could avoid being cognizant of it. She was more concerned about flashing Mick and was doing her best to keep her knees together as he massaged her leg. To break the tension Julie asked him about his research and told Mick that she had been a literature undergrad. She further volunteered that she was now going to night school for a master’s in library science.

Julie became very chatty talking literature with Mick and it helped take the edge off the situation a bit for them both, and as she did, she became less aware of the position of her knees. She would break eye contact with Mick frequently, glancing away in thought during their conversation together. He would take the opportunity to quickly peek between her widening legs where he caught glimpses of her purple panties. Mick’s manhood began to straighten inside his pants which resulted in it coming into contact with the edge of her foot.

“Shit,” thought Mick, not knowing what to do. He did not want her to think this was what he intended and that he was some sort of pervert. Mick also did not want her to be embarrassed should she become conscious of where her foot was. He sat there trying to figure out how to inconspicuously move her foot away from his growing dick.

Julie did not notice that the pain in her leg was subsiding because she was so totally engrossed in their conversation. She also did not realize that now comfortable in Mick’s company, she was unconsciously moving her foot around his lap in addition to wiggling her toes. All of this movement only furthered the hardening of his Johnson.

Julie was enjoying her exchange very much and was becoming more and more animated with each passing moment. She was laughing and gesturing with her hands, shifting around on the table and her foot just would not stay put. More and more, the position of her foot roamed from its original position until it was completely overtop his now rigid phallus. It felt like to Mick that she was making circular motions with her foot over his cock and her wriggling toes were perfectly positioned on his bulbous head.

Mick was in disbelief and could not figure out if she was intentionally playing some sort of coy game with him or was she subconsciously masturbating him with her foot by accident. He was beginning to have trouble concentrating and maintaining eye contact with her and started to blink inordinately.

Julie’s legs had drifted apart, enough that Mick could see the embroidery on her panties. He did not even realize that he had stopped rubbing her calf altogether and was now staring straight between her legs. At that same moment, Julie came to notice that she no longer commanded Mick’s attention and that his hands were no longer massaging her calf. Suddenly Mick realized that her voice had fallen silent and he looked up to find that Julie was sitting there quietly peering back at him. “Fuck!” he silently said to himself, “She caught me!” He didn’t know what to say or do.

The reason for Mick’s distraction was more than apparent to Julie. She had gone from trying to prevent playing peek-a-boo with Mick to giving him a good show, which he was obviously partaking in. Then she looked down and came to her own realization–that she had been giving a foot massage to some stranger’s cock.

Julie too was frozen, partially from her unintentional public display but also from her unintended game of footsie. She was overcome with a wave of embarrassment and could feel her face getting flush she began having difficulty breathing. They both just sat there, neither of them knowing what to say or do.

Without much thought, Mick began to softly caress her leg again. Immediately Julie drew in a deep breath followed by a long, audible exhale which sounded to Mick like she was pleased by his resumption. The warm feeling in her face slowly subsided but another began to burgeon in the intimate places inside her.

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

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Is it possible for a Black man to fetishize his own race? That’s what I want to know. My name is Dillon Blackmore, but you can call me D.B. I was born in the City of Halifax, Nova Scotia, to a Jamaican immigrant father and a white Canadian mother. That’s a story in and of itself, how my parents met and stayed together. I’ll tell you about it some other time.

At the age of nineteen, I moved to the City of Detroit, Michigan, to attend the University of Detroit-Mercy. It wasn’t easy for me to grow up as a mixed-race brother in the City of Halifax, where the blatant racism is pretty much in your face. And don’t even get me started on what my parents, Louis Blackmore and Lucille Cypher-Blackmore went through as an interracial couple. The province of Nova Scotia in many ways is the Mississippi of Canada. I couldn’t wait to get the hell away from there. That’s why I moved to Detroit, the blackest locale in North America.

A lot of people talk down about the City of Detroit, and think that it’s a representation of a failed metropolis. All because Detroit didn’t whether the last recession as well as other American cities like Boston or New York. I am a Canadian man living in the City of Detroit, Michigan, and I love it. I know that the mess in nearby Flynt has us looking bad but we can only solve our issues one problem at a time. I like Detroit and I find it to be a vibrant, racially diverse and fun place with a unique culture. One that no other North American city can match, not even Toronto or New York.

In the City of Detroit, I see black men walking around with their white wives and mixed-race offspring without fear or shame. I promise you that this doesn’t happen in the Canadian province of Nova Scotia. I remember walking down the street in the City of Halifax with my parents and seeing angry looks on the faces of white males walking by. Some of these bozos would cough, sneeze and spit on the ground as we walked by. How I despised these bigots. Americans are surprised when I tell them how mean and bigoted Canadians can be. Enter the Great White North at your own risk, folks.

“Dillon, are we going to do this or what?” Tamika Charleston asked, hands on her hips, snatching me out of my reverie. I looked at the six-foot-tall, curvy and gorgeously dark-skinned, Afro-sporting vision of mahogany beauty standing before me and smiled. I met Tamika in my criminal psychology class. The curvy cutie was curious about my Canadian accent, and I was honestly curious about that thick ass of hers. Yup, that’s why I had to holler. We have a lot of black folks in Nova Scotian towns like Halifax, Dartmouth and Preston but they’re nothing like the ones in the Etimesgut Escort U.S.

The black women of America are feisty and fearless. A lot of them give brothers grief but a lot more of them are fiercely loyal to the black man. I totally dig that about them. I got tired of banging white girls who wouldn’t look at me when they saw me walking down the street in Halifax because they’re afraid of what their racist family members and uptight friends might say. Team Villa, thanks but no thanks. This Canadian brother definitely loves his Chocolate…

“Damn straight, now come over here,” I said in a commanding tone while smiling at her, and Tamika walked up to me. I kissed her full and deep and caressed that thick black ass which I’d been dying to feel up since I first saw her. We tumbled on my bed and then started getting busy. Tamika undressed, revealing a voluptuous body that would make tennis icon Serena Williams green with envy. I kissed her breasts and sucked on them while sliding my hand between her thick thighs to finger that wet, hairy mouth. A lot of brothers complain about hairy pussies but I like them natural like that. To each his own, know what I mean?

“If you can’t eat it I won’t let you stick it,” Tamika said, as I licked her belly button, making my way down to her sweet spot. I looked up at Tamika, saw the serious expression on her beautiful face and smiled. Spreading her thick dark thighs wide open, I inhaled her womanly musk. A lot of women use vaginal deodorant down there, but not Tamika. Miss Detroit here flaunts her own feminine aroma and this brother couldn’t get enough of it. I buried my face between Tamika’s legs and ate her pussy. At first, Tamika seemed a bit tense but then she relaxed and began enjoying herself. I love going down on females and I like to take my time pleasuring them. You’ve got to leave the ladies satisfied, brothers. If you don’t, they’ll talk about your lousy performance with their girlfriends and you won’t be able to get pussy on the fly anymore…

“Challenge accepted,” I paused to say, and then I tormented Tamika by flicking my tongue on her clitoris and fingering her pussy with my index and middle fingers. Soon Tamika was moaning in pleasure, and I knew I had her right where I wanted her. I put Tamika on all fours and admired her big black booty. Dammit, I almost came when Tamika turned around and winked at me, and then did the booty clap. Folks, if you haven’t seen a big-booty black chick do the booty clap, then believe me, you haven’t lived. Spreading her thick ass cheeks wide open, Tamika exposed her asshole. Pretty obvious what the sultry young African American Etlik Escort beauty was expecting of me. Oh, well. It’s a good thing that I’m an ass man through and true…

“Eat this ass, stud,” Tamika chimed in, and I grinned and spread that ass some more, then began eating her ass. I lathered it with my tongue, and Tamika was soon moaning and groaning. I love the taste of female ass and if loving it is wrong then this Nova Scotian brother definitely doesn’t want to be right. I laugh at brothers who act all macho and say they don’t eat female ass. If you ask me, those brothers are probably suspect. Just a thought of mine, that’s all…

“I love the way your ass tastes, Tamika, now bounce it for me,” I paused to say, and Tamika began undulating, grinding that thick dark booty against my face as I stuck my tongue deep into her asshole. There’s something hot, forbidden and quite intimate about eating ass and those brothers who balk at the thought of doing it are missing out on a lot. Oh, well. More ass for me to eat, I guess. Brothers don’t realize this but whenever they neglect a female, she’s going to deal with the next man. And forget all about their ass. When it comes to pussy, women control the game. A smart man plays it smart and gets on their good side. Do you feel me?

“Less talking and more ass eating,” Tamika snapped, and I slapped her ass while eating her asshole, causing her to squeal. I do like those bossy black American women but in the bedroom, that’s the only place where I’m not a gentleman. I might be fucking you but don’t you mess with me, cutie. I am a man full of surprises. I just look friendly and harmless…

“Fuck, I’m going to cum,” Tamika squealed, and the tall, voluptuous and dark-skinned beauty began to tremble. I continued working my magic on her, fingering her wet, hairy pussy while sliding my tongue into the deepest recesses of her asshole. Like I said before, I am an ass man through and true and there’s definitely no shame in my game. When Tamika came, orgasmic at last, I tongued her ass down until she creamed, squirting hot girly cum all over my face. And I lapped it up eagerly like the nasty dude that I am. It was hot!!!

“Dillon, I need you to dick me down,” Tamika said, and I smiled and nodded, and sat up on the bed. Winking at Tamika, I slapped my thighs and she got the hint and straddled me. My dick hardened as Tamika began grinding that ass against my lap. Taking her lovely face in my hands, I kissed her full and deep, and then placed her hands on my dick. Tamika stroked my dick, and I reached for a condom. Batting my hands away, Tamika got off my lap and on her knees…

“Oh Eve Gelen Escort my,” I whispered as Tamika knelt before me and took my dick in her mouth. I’m fairly long, and uncut, though I haven’t measured. Tamika caressed my balls while sucking me off, taking her sweet time as she pleasured me orally. A lot of females like to rush when it comes to giving head. Miss Detroit here definitely wasn’t like them. Oh no, she was performing like a porn star and I marveled at her, thrilled to be on the receiving end of such awesomeness. When I warned her that I was ready to cum, Tamika grinned and nodded, but didn’t stop sucking. Such a freak!

“That was off the hook,” I said breathlessly, and Tamika wiped her lovely mouth with the back of her hand and shrugged. I took a bit to recover, and then rolled a condom on my dick. Tamika got on all fours and shook that big black booty from side to side, getting me hard instantly. I positioned myself behind her and caressed that thick black ass that had been haunting my dreams since September. Oh yeah, I was definitely ready to dick her down…

“You ready or what?” Tamika teased, and I gripped her hips and thrust into her, burying myself deep inside that hot, wet pussy. Tamika pressed that thick ass against my groin, which drove me even deeper inside of her. Tamika’s pussy felt warm and tight around my dick and I couldn’t get enough of it. Now that’s what I call good pussy. The kind that makes a brother lose sleep over his access to its owner. Tamika’s got the goods and I want more, no, needed more…

“Talk trash now,” I shouted, slapping Tamika’s thick dark ass and pulling on her Afro while drilling my dick into her pussy. The voluptuous African American cutie continued to grind that ass against my groin and I fucked her silly, slamming my dick with wild abandon into her snatch. Dammit, if I’m not careful I could fall in love with Tamika Charleston’s ass. As it were, that pussy gripped my dick so hard that I lasted just under an hour, and then I came. That’s what I call bomb-ass pussy, folks. Nothing like it on this planet…

“So, Mister Canada, can I interest you in staying in Detroit some more?” Tamika asked as we lay in bed together, much later. I looked at the beautiful young black woman who lay in my arms and smiled. Taking her hands in mine, I brought them to my lips and kissed them. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a beautiful dark-skinned black woman. I think I’m addicted to them and I honestly don’t want to be cured…

“Sounds good to me, Miss Detroit,” I replied, and then I kissed Tamika passionately. Just like that, the two of us began round two. Ladies and gentlemen, this Nova Scotian brother is definitely enjoying his stay in the City of Detroit, Michigan. If I can become a permanent resident of the U.S. and get a job here after graduating from the University of Detroit-Mercy, I just might say goodbye to Nova Scotia forever. The City of Detroit simply rocks!!!

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

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

I was not happy. In fact I was a whole mixture of emotions; resentful, disappointed, anxious, frustrated. It was our tenth wedding anniversary and my husband, Jeremy, who is 13 years my senior and partner in a city centre law practice had had one of his ‘senior moments’. We had just been finishing our meal at the hotel restaurant when his face paled. For one brief moment I thought it was a heart attack. He began to tap the breast pocket of his navy blazer before exclaiming, “Oh my God!”

“What is it, darling?” I implored, leaning forward over the table.

“I’ve left the blasted tickets back at home.”

To mark the occasion of a decade together Jeremy had booked tickets to see a Harold Pinter play at a theatre in Manchester. Dinner was my treat. Exasperated I hissed, “For Goodness, Jeremy….”

Before I had uttered these words my husband had stood up from the table, dabbed either side of his mouth with the immaculate linen napkin, and said, “I won’t be two shakes of a lamb’s tail, darling. Jenny’ll keep you company. Won’t be long.”

Won’t be long? It was easily half an hour each way to home and back. On our way into the hotel we had bumped into an old university friend of mine with whom I had kept in contact mainly by email and the occasional lunch. Jenny was attending a medical conference at the hotel and looked every inch the successful consultant she had risen to become. After exchanging air kisses so as not to smudge our make up we agreed to join her in the bar after dinner. At the time my chance meeting with Jenny seemed to herald what promised to be a wonderful evening.

An hour later, however, my mood was altogether gloomier. Having abandoned my dessert in favour of polishing off the remainder of the excellent Chablis I left the hotel’s restaurant in search of Jenny in the bar. Peering around the seats and alcoves it soon became apparent she was not there. With an increasing sense of annoyance and awkwardness I picked out a secluded and dimly lit recess and eased myself on to the soft brown leather table seat.

What a fool I felt. All dressed up and – as far as anyone who was looking – nowhere to go. Ten minutes previously I looked and felt a million dollars. I do not mean to sound vain but I look good for 40. I have not allowed the rigours of being a marketing executive to get in the way of maintaining my figure. If anything it has helped my career. I am not one of these feminists who try to be as macho as men in order to justify my position in the company. I will readily own up to using my feminine charms when necessary to bag a client or gain the favour of a senior colleague. And, yes, sometimes there is a frisson between us and I don’t mind saying it all adds to the job satisfaction. But that – I hasten to add – is where it ends.

I go to the gym three times a week before work and horse riding at the weekend also keeps me toned and in shape. The result is that I have nice slim legs which are readily shown off in skirts rather than trousers. I’m not exactly busty but I possess a healthy cleavage which frequently glimpses the light of day. This particular evening was no exception. I was in my favourite black silky, slinky cocktail dress, setting off my jet black hair which was drawn up on top of my head in a French Twist. There was no need no need for a jacket on this balmy summer evening. I was dressed for seduction although now seduction was far from my mind. The black hold ups and matching lacy lingerie underneath were now seemingly a superfluous frivolity.

I busied myself with deleting text messages from my mobile phone, occasionally re-reading a few saucy jokes sent from various friends although inwardly I was still fuming at Jeremy. Squinting at the screen in the semi-darkness I was taken aback when I suddenly heard a voice with a strong London accent above me.

“Aw’right. Can I get you a drink?”

I looked up and saw a broad powerfully built man in his early 30’s grinning down at me. I took in his appearance; not quite six foot, with blond hair gelled back to reveal sparkling blue eyes which went well with his sky blue Ralph Lauren shirt tucked in black jeans. With alcohol-induced bravado, coupled with the annoyance of being left to sit alone in a hotel bar, I looked him up and down and said, “Do you know…I think I will, thank you. A glass of white wine, please.”

His grin widened and, with a nod of acknowledgement, he headed to the bar to order the drinks. I found myself quickly checking my appearance just before he returned with two enormous glasses of wine which must have held half a bottle each. Setting the glasses down with another flashing smile he introduced himself, “Cheers…I’m Steve by the way.”

“Your good health…I’m Sarah.”

Steve manoeuvred his large frame further round the alcove at the same time turning his body to face me. He had a wide boy charm in a rather unsophisticated way and clearly made a living from his gift of the gab. Judging by his accent he was away from home on some Demetevler Escort sales trip ‘up north’. Still, it would wile away some time until Jeremy turned up. His discovery that his ‘abandoned wife’ was being chatted up by a bit of rough would no doubt teach him not to be so forgetful in future.

I half expected Steve to follow up with something clichéd like, “…and what’s a nice girl like you…”

“What was the filet mignon in the sauce bayonnaise like?”

I half choked on my first mouthful of wine. My reaction must have been noticeable because he laughed saying, “We don’t just eat jellied eels in Peckham!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude but how do you know I had the filet mignon?”

“Cos I was sitting on the other side of the restaurant…and I sorta noticed ya.”

“Ahh..I see.” I arched an enquiring eyebrow at Steve and took another sip of wine. I was becoming distinctly tipsy and was entering into the spirit of the occasion.

“So what are you celebrating?” he said, smiling back at me knowingly before eyeing me up and down.

“Our tenth wedding anniversary.” I replied with mock indignation.

Steve threw back his head and guffawed.

“And the occasion was all too much for your husband that he dumped ya?”

Unsure of how to respond I replied simply, “Something like that.”

“Well I can tell ya now,” he ventured, warming to the challenge, “if you were my missus I wouldn’t leave alone for a moment. Not with blokes like me around,” he winked and gave me another of his flashing smiles and took a large mouthful from his glass but still eyeing me over its rim. The wine was beginning to take effect.

“And what sort of ‘bloke’ are you? I asked suggestively.

“Well,’ he leaned over and in a conspiratorial whisper said, “I enjoy the company of attractive intelligent women who dress…” Steve glanced up the length of my legs, from my black patent heels to the hem of my black cocktail dress, “…to show off their…er…best assets.”

In holding his stare I was transfixed at just how blue Steve’s eyes were. The scent of Davidoff Clearwater permeated my inebriated senses and my heart began to beat faster. A little voice inside my head warned me I was going too far. Feigning innocence I said, “And what might they be?”

“You have terrific legs which look even better in black….tights?” Steve’s voice went up at the end to emphasise the flirtatious query.

“Not quite.”

“Not quite what?”

“Not quite tights.”

“Stockings?”

“Hold ups to be precise.”

“Really?”

“Really” My heart now was pounding but I kept my face and voice matter of fact convincing myself that this was just idle banter. But deep down I was getting turned on. The stirring between my legs was becoming almost uncomfortable and I crossed my legs feeling myself becoming moist. In doing so the hem of my dress rode a bit higher up my thigh giving a merest glimpse of the elasticated top. Steve caught sight of it just as I smoothed the hem back down. He knew I hadn’t been lying. As I looked down I noticed a significant bulge had arisen in Steve’s jeans. Rather than disguising his state he simply said, “So where is hubby now?”

“He’s driven back home to pick up tickets for the theatre which he’d forgotten,” I sighed in resignation.

“How long will he be?” Steve’s voice was now more business like. I looked casually at the Cartier watch Jeremy had bought for me on our first wedding anniversary.

“At least half an hour I should think.”

“I have a room upstairs.”

“I’m married,” matching his matter of fact tone of his voice.

“Happily?”

“It’s our tenth wedding anniversary.”

“I take it that’s a no then?”

There was a brief pause before I said “I think maybe I’ve drunk too much.” It came out sounding more like a question than a statement.

“Would you like a coffee?” Steve said in a soothing way, placing his hand on my shoulder.

“I would actually.”

“I have some in my room.”

We stared in each others eyes for a few seconds. I reached for my small black patent Gucci hand bag and eased my way out between the table and seat. Steve followed behind and then placing his large hand on the small of my back he directed me silently towards the lift. His touch sent a charge of electricity up my spine as my head fought conflicting emotions. Now half drunk on the amount of wine consumed I didn’t recognise the Sarah who was giving in to pure carnal instinct. Even the rational part of my mind justified what I was doing as punishment on Jeremy’s insensitivity. I wanted this particular evening to be treated as a woman and I was now heading to a hotel room with a stranger who did.

Steve and I entered the lift with two other elderly guests who shared our silence until the doors parted and Steve ushered me out into the hallway. He unlocked the door to his room and held it open for me to enter. The door had hardly shut before Dikmen Escort he forced me round by the shoulders and pushed me against the wall.

His head craned down and he plunged his mouth over mine forcing an almost bovine tongue between my lips. I resisted momentarily before allowing its muscular moistness to invade my mouth, searching out my own tongue. To steady myself I wrapped my upturned arms under his and pulled his body into me, eventually clasping on to his shoulders. His hips now ground into my stomach feeling his hardness through the thin material of my dress.

The sheer urgency with which Steve kissed me led him to explore my body with his hands, massaging my breasts through my dress and then reaching down behind me to clasp my ass tightly. In response I raised my knee against the outside of his leg, rubbing it with equal urgency. With this his hand came on to my knee and Steve ran his hand slowly up my hold ups until he felt flesh. By now I was extremely wet. I could feel the lips of my pussy now swollen and hot. I held my breath as Steve’s strong thick fingers explored ever further. My panting became urgent as he searched under the gusset of my panties and at first one, then two, fingers entered me. Feeling utterly wanton I needed to feel his hardness and as his fingers inserted themselves inside me I pushed the palm of my hand on to his crotch and began grabbing hold of his manhood through the unyielding fabric of his jeans. I had some idea then that Steve was big. Much bigger – and thicker – than Jeremy. I was now in ecstasy as Steve frantically sawed his two big fingers in and out of me. But I was now transfixed by the size of Steve’s manhood. Previously I had only managed to work myself up to mild curiousity when other women used to talk about the size of their partner’s penises but now was different.

I dropped my knee thereby forcing Steve’s fingers out of me and now I pushed him back against the wall. I looked in his lust-filled eyes and then placed both palms on his broad chest and began to massage him. I dropped slowly to my knees allowing my hands to fall to his belt which I began to feverishly unbuckle. Unzipping his jeans revealed a hard phallus straining against tight black Lycra boxers. Hooking my red painted finger nails over the waist band I pulled everything down allowing a now half erect penis to spring out of the confines of the Steve’s shorts. It was enormous. I clasped my fingers round the base of his cock and began to massage it up and down. As it grew my fingers could no longer wrap themselves fully round its girth. Steve sighed and turned his head upwards as I began to lick the length of the shaft eventually finishing at the top where now a very large bulbous head had emerged fully from the foreskin.

I pulled his cock upwards and began to lick Steve’s balls – the size and texture of satsumas – making him sigh even more. By now his penis was fully erect, standing a magnificent 8 inches. Taking the base of his cock in my right hand I opened my mouth as wide as I could and engulfed half in my mouth. I could not remember the last time I performed oral sex on Jeremy but on the few occasions I had it had proven to be a tasteless affair. This was different. Steve filled my mouth with different senses and wrapping my lips as much as I could round his thick length I felt the head of his cock push against the back of my throat making me gag slightly. Readjusting myself I began to work my mouth up and down his shaft as he began to rhythmically thrust backwards and forwards. Steve then started moaning louder and grabbing a handful of my hair away from its neatly coiffured style he pulled my head in time with his thrusting.

Just as my jaw was beginning to ache, Steve’s thrusting and pulling intensified, his cock hardened and his balls tightened. I knew he was starting to come and, having never allowed Jeremy to come in my mouth, I began to try and pull away. Instead Steve grunted, “No way!” and grabbing tighter on to my hair at the back of my head pulled me roughly into his groin. My nose was now buried in his bushy pubic hair and my mouth was now wide open to accommodate his sheer size. In a state of helplessness I awaited him to unload his semen into my mouth.

“Oh God….Fuuuuuck!” he groaned as the first wave shocked me with a jet roping its way immediately down the back of my throat. There was a slight relaxation of his ass which I was having to hold on to. Just when I thought he’d finished Steve’s thighs tensed again and a second more viscous amount of hot salty sperm filled my mouth. For the first time ever I closed my eyes and swallowed, letting myself experience the sensation of cum clinging to the interior of my mouth.

“Man. That was sooooo good,” sighed Steve, “Now I owe you.”

“This is not such a good idea,” I implored as I was now sobering up and the first pang of guilt began to encroach on the periphery of my consciousness.

“Wrong answer!” laughed Steve and picking me up he carried Elvankent Escort me into the main part of the room and threw me on the bed. He fell on top of me and held my wrists on the bed and leaned down and kissed me heavily on the mouth. As I surrendered his hands massaged my breasts and then pulling the strap of the dress off my shoulder and tugging the bra cup down he revealed my breast. He lowered himself down and took my already erect nipple between his teeth and began pulling it until it became even harder. My sighing encouraged Steve to work his way down, biting me through the flimsy material.

The hem of my dress was now over my hips revealing my stocking clad legs. I was aware that my panties were now soaking but before I became self conscious Steve had pulled the flimsy material down and over my ankles in one swift movement. Steve looked down appreciatively at my naked pussy which felt all the more exposed with just a small black triangle pointing towards my agitated clitoris. I had taken to having my pubic hair trimmed and waxed ever since I discovered my first gray hair amid my dark thatch.

Steve raised a foot and ran his tongue from the inside of my ankle slowly meandering a path up the inside of my thigh. He could clearly see that my pussy lips were parted, distended and glistening. He allowed my leg to fall over his shoulder as he began to lick my clitoris, slowly at first and then nibbling at it with his teeth. I groaned heavily as I then felt his fingers work their way inside me again and as his strong tongue worked its way around my clit I began to feel the onset of an orgasm. It was my time this time to grab Steve’s head and grind my hips into his mouth, his enormous tongue snaking its way inside me.

Just as I was tensing to unleash my first orgasm in years my mobile went off in my hand bag.

“Shit,” I exclaimed, “that’ll be Jeremy.”

Sitting up straight I fumbled in my bag as Steve emerged from between my legs, his hair tussled and his mouth and chin covered in my juices. As I thought, Jeremy’s name flashed up on the screen. I answered, “Hello, darling, where are you?”

“Sorry I’m late, darling. I’m just about to pull up at the front of the hotel. Meet me outside.”

“OK. Won’t be a moment. Just got to say goodbye to Jenny.” I lied, switching off the phone.

I turned to Steve. “I’ve got to go.”

“I guess so,” he said in a resigned tone, “Just as things were getting interesting.”

I raced into the bathroom and desperately began fixing my hair and make up.

“Can I see you again?” queried Steve standing in the doorway of the bathroom, fastening the belt of his jeans.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.” I replied uncertainly.

“Well at least can I send you some flowers at your workplace?”

In a panic to get out I fished out a business card and handed it to him. I leaned over, put my hand on his shoulder and kissed Steve.

More as a statement than a question he smiled, saying, “I guess that’s good bye then.”

With that I ran out the door and took the lift to the hotel foyer and strode purposefully outside. I immediately spotted Jeremy’s Jaguar and opened the passenger door to be greeted by the smell of his cigars. I fixed him with a welcoming smile which was duly reciprocated. Patting the pocket of his camel overcoat he boasted, “Got the tickets,” and we headed towards the theatre. On the way Jeremy turned up Stravinsky’s ‘Rite of Spring’ up full blast and I sat back quietly and allowed the events of the last hour to sink in.

Strangely I didn’t feel as guilty as I expected to be. I had just been unfaithful to my husband on our wedding anniversary and yet I was feeling so alive. I had just done things to a man which even a street hardened hooker would have blanched at and yet it didn’t feel as though it was me who did it. Having parked the car we made our way to the theatre bar where Jeremy ordered drinks for the interval. I also asked for a strong gin and tonic as I still had Steve’s taste in my mouth. I marvelled at the type of person with whom I had just performed the most erotic oral sex. A glorified London barrow boy with a silver tongue – in more ways than one! I then felt my mobile phone vibrate in my handbag. Someone had texted me a message. It was probably my sister, I thought, wishing me a happy anniversary. I opened the inbox and saw a message from a number I didn’t recognise. I opened it.

You still horny? XXX Steve

Shit, I thought. He must have got my number from the business card. What an idiot I was.

At that point Jeremy returned with our drinks.

“Excuse me a moment, darling, I just need to nip to the loo.”

In the bathroom I opened the message and thought for a moment as to what to text back. Common sense told me to just end this now. Don’t reply. He won’t bother you again.

Instead my thumbs worked quickly over the keypad.

Yes. Why? XXX

I rejoined Jeremy who made a point of looking at his watch. “Come on, darling, the bell rang minutes ago.” As we made our way to our seats the lights dimmed but I kept my mobile at my side. Five minutes into the performance my mobile flashed up a message received. My heart began to beat in anticipation as I then surreptitiously opened up the inbox.

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

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Please read previous chapters before reading below, this episode continues from CH. 02

————————————————————————————————————-

Dragging Mel along behind me I entered the en-suite and stepped into the shower turning it on, Mel squealed as the jets of cold water hit her and gave me a semi-dirty look and calling me a bastard while I chuckled.

“Right, just for that. NO fooling around in here mister, we haven’t got time anyway!” she said trying to act grumpy as I grabbed a sponge and started lathering her up. Working on her shoulders down her back to her delectable ass and perfect legs, then I slowly moved round to the front, capturing her large beautiful breasts. Pressing my body to hers, I licked and nibbled her ears and neck while playing with her nipples. Slowly moving one hand down her taught stomach to work on her neatly shaved pussy, she groaned and started grinding her ass back onto my rapidly expanding cock which was now firmly imbedded between her soft ass cheeks.

Her pussy was already soaked so I slid my full length into her agonisingly slowly while I lightly worked her clit and gently tweaked her pierced nipple with my fingers. I was still kissing and nibbling her neck, Mel was moaning “so fucking big, my god you’re turning me on!”

I kept this slow pace for about 10 minutes until she was pushing back harder into me, seeking something more. I started taking longer strokes, pulling nearly all the way out of her before returning and grinding into her deep before retreating again. Her breathing increased, her breasts swollen and nipples as hard as bullets.

“God, right there Mike. Please don’t stop, oh..oh.ahhh, I’m gonna…..” She groaned

“Cum for me Mel, come all over my cock!” I growled in her ear.

She squealed as she climaxed hard, I could feel her hot juices flooding my balls as her pussy clamped onto me. I kept grinding deep into her pussy and working her clit harder now pushing her back up to another climax and then onto a third and final one, we both came together when her pussy clamped onto my cock like a vice.

After a few minutes our breathing started to return to normal, I quietly shut off the shower, wrapped my arms around Mel and gently moved her out of the shower. Grabbing a large towel, I gently dried her and then myself.

After a few moments Mel quietly spun around, gently looping her arms around my neck and we kissed passionately. Slowly she gently leaned back looking at me in the eyes with a slightly glassy look and gently spoke “you know, I’ve had more orgasms this weekend with you than I’ve had from any man for about the last year!”

“Good!” I said “I’ve enjoyed myself more with you in 24 hours than I did with my ex in 7 years!”

Mel gave me a glassy eyed look before turning back into the bedroom.

I quickly got dressed and suggested to Mel that she dry her hair and get dressed while I quickly took Buster for a walk.

Mel gasped “oh bugger, I don’t have anything to wear Mike so we can’t stop anywhere for breakfast. I’ll have to go straight home.”

“Nonsense!” I said, “I’ll find you something, I have a box of stuff that’s basically new that my ex bought and never wore, you are reasonably close in size so that should work. T-shirts, leggings and other bits I think. Let me just grab it for you and you can take a look while I go and take care of Buster.”

I quickly dove into one of the large cupboards in the master bedroom and pulled out a medium sized cardboard box and dumped it on the bed for her. “Here you go, take a look through this and see if there’s anything suitable.” I said and went downstairs to take Buster out.

———

15 minutes later I’d returned with Buster and headed upstairs to see if Mel had found anything to wear. As I approached the master bedroom I could see her facing away from me twisting and turning in front of the mirror, I quietly leant against the door frame and watched for a few minutes.

She’d found a grey pair of skin-tight leggings and a red tank top, Mel was a goddess but while the clothing fit her it was rather snug. Mel was only an inch or so taller than my ex but she was considerably curvier everywhere. She didn’t carry an ounce of fat that I could see anywhere on her body and trust me I had really looked but she also had an hourglass figure with a big bust.

She didn’t have any clean underwear so the leggings were bordering on scandalous, I could see her pulling at the crotch to try and loosen it but as soon as she moved a step it was back to being fully imbedded up her beautiful ass and it was cameltoe city from the front. Without a bra the tank top would have been bad enough if it was loose but it was extremely tight and may as well have ‘Come Get Some’ written on it!

I gradually moved closer and I could see the extent of her tank top, you could literally see everything! Nipples, the piercing and even the little tiny bumps around her areole. I walked up to her and put my arms around her, “god you’re Gaziosmanpaşa Escort fucking sexy Mel!” I growled.

She just blushed heavily and said she couldn’t go out wearing what she had on, I told her that was nonsense and insisted that as it was so cold outside she would have to wear a coat or a jumper anyway that should cover everything up. Moving to my wardrobe I quickly found a couple of my old high school sweaters, she chose a black one and threw it on. The sweater was baggy on her and came down to mid thigh so now she just looked like a sexy girl wearing old baggy clothes instead of a bimbo.

She grabbed my arm then kissed me, squeezed my cock through my jeans and sashayed away giggling saying “c’mon stud, bring that gorgeous cock of yours. We need to get going back to my place and you promised to feed me!”

We loaded ourselves into my pickup, leaving Mel’s car at my place and headed off to an all day cafe called ‘Bennies’ that was one of my favourites. It was only a 15 minute drive and was also on the way to Mel’s flat.

20 minutes later we were seated and the waitress had already brought us some coffee and taken our food orders. It was not a particularly busy at the moment, maybe a third full plus it was about 11:30 so we had managed to beat the lunchtime rush. There were also no families as this was a diner so mostly long distance drivers and business people.

Regardless of the way she was dressed most eyes had been on Mel since we’d walked in and I caught her blushing a few times noticing a few glances.

“Do I look strange or something?” She said, “people keep staring at me Mike.”

“Babe, you’re fucking gorgeous people are gonna stare at you. Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Well, I kinda get a few looks sometimes when I dress up nice to go out clubbing but I’m wearing like old work-out clothes with a baggy jumper over the top. Plus I don’t even have any make-up on!”

“Seriously?” I asked, “Mel, honey you would still look great if you were wearing an old sack and war paint. You’re a goddess, do you not realise how sexy you are?”

“He’s right honey, listen to the man he has great taste!” our waitress said to Mel, winking at her when she appeared out of nowhere with our food. “Even hidden like you are in those baggy clothes I can see you’re a hottie!”

Blushing Mel sat there no knowing what to say but with the waft of food we were both so hungry we ate in silence for a few minutes until our food was gone.

“You know what?” I said, “I’m gonna make you a bet, or actually a dare to prove to you just how stunning you are. Are you game?”

Sheepishly she asked “well which is it? A bet or a dare?”

“Kinda both” I replied, “look, I’m gonna dare you to do something and bet you on the outcome. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, but what?” she replied, “and what do I get If I do the dare? And what kindof dare is it?”

“It’s a public dare but it’s my dare to you, so if you do it you also get to ask me to do something and I have to do it!”

“Ooh, now I’m piqued” she said, “that sounds like fun. C’mon then spill, what’s the dare?”

“Well” I said, leaning in close to her “I dare you… to go to the toilet, the ladies is all the way over there at the far corner of the diner!”

Looking worried Mel asked “what’s the catch?”

“I’d like my jumper back before you go!”

Mel’s eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped, “MIKE!” she shouted in whisper. “God, you’re evil!”

“No I’m not, I’m making you a bet. Do you hear all this ambient noise, people speaking etc? And while we’re sat here in the corner nobody’s looking right?”

She nodded.

“Well” I continued, “my bet is, that if you do what I dare you to, that within 5 seconds of you getting to your feet you’ll be able to hear a pin drop the whole way to the toilets and back plus EVERYONE in here will be staring at you! All proving my earlier point”

“IF I do it, and it is an IF!… I get to dare you to do something anytime I want?” She queried suspiciously.

“Yes, but you’ll have the advantage as I will just have to do it whereas you currently have a choice and nothing to lose.”

Mel sat there contemplating, chewing her bottom lip while I worked out the bill and left the cash on the table with a nice tip.

“Okay!” Mel said blushing, “I’ll do it… But I’ve already thought of a few possible things for you and you’re in so much trouble mister!” she confirmed while slipping my jumper off over her head.

While we were still sitting in the corner booth we were mostly hidden so nothing would really happen until she got up and started walking but she basically may as well have been topless.

Looking down at her breasts, she started blushing again and shaking her head looking at me in the eye. While Mel looked at me, after many long seconds I noticed suddenly that her blush was gone and was replaced with a look of confidence and lust. She pushed herself to her feet and started walking the 40 or so paces to the toilets through a restaurant Gölbaşı Escort that was growing busier by the minute now it was Midday.

I was right though, after a few seconds dead silence. Most of the men’s jaws were on their tables and some of the women’s. Even after Mel had disappeared into the toilets everyone stared at the door and waited for her to come back out. When she did, every damn eye was on her and I swear she almost looked sexier than if she’d done it naked.

I collected our things and met her at the front door so we quickly ran out to the car and jumped in before anyone could accost us or molest her.

I started the engine and we were quickly on our way, Mel was breathing heavy and was flushed with excitement.

“My god!” she said gasping, “that was a fucking rush, I may as well have been naked, the way that people were looking at me I felt so powerful… God I’m so fucking wet!”

“I told you though, didn’t I! Not a sound and everyone’s eyes on you and you only!”

“Mike, get me to my place quick. I need you in me! I need your cock, I’m so fucking horny!” she groaned rubbing her thighs together and rubbing my growing cock through my jeans as I drove.

Within 5 minutes we pulled up at her flat and we inside within the next 2. Mel called out for Amy and when there was no reply she was all over me and dragged me into her room throwing her clothes off as she went.

I started to kiss her and rub her breasts but she stopped me “no foreplay, I need you in me now. Please just fuck me, fill me with your cum!”

Shedding my own clothes I threw her over the bed, she twisted round with her face in her pillow and ass in the air waving at me. Her crotch and inner thighs were already soaked so I moved behind her and drove in and sheathed myself to the hilt with one constant stroke.

“Oooh, that’s it Mike. Now fuck me hard. Fill me with your seed. Wreck my pussy!”

That’s all I needed to hear and I started to slam my body into hers pounding her pussy right from the start. Mel was hot to trot and more than ready to go, within minutes she was shaking with her release clamping down onto my cock but I kept pounding faster and faster, within a few more minutes I feel my balls start to churn. “I’m going to cum. I’m going to fill your pussy with my cum bitch. Are you ready?”

“Do it, fuck me, fill me you bastard! Shoot your load into me. Fuuuck I’m gonna to cum again too. Fuck that pussy and make me cum!”

That was all it took and I was exploding into her, still pounding hard my climax triggering her second and we both cry out as she hoses down my balls squirting her release. We both collapse forwards onto her bed breathing heavily.

“Mel?” I hear a female voice call “Mel, what the fuck the front door is wide open what the hell are you….. Oh shit sorry!” Amy’s voice now entering Mel’s bedroom doorway but blushing, turning and scurrying away.

We put our clothes back together and wondered out of her room back into the lounge/kitchen area where Amy was putting some things away in the cupboards.

“Beer?” Amy, still blushing and not making eye contact, offered towards me and then to Mel which we both gratefully accepted and sat on the stools at the kitchen counter.

There was silence for a few seconds as we were all looking at each other, myself and Mel still breathing heavily and then Amy started laughing and we soon followed with her.

Calming down a few minutes later Amy asked Mel “so, c’mon then girly. It’s getting on we better start getting ready for tonight!”

“Ready?” Mel asked, “what’s going on tonight?”

“You’re kidding right? You big ditz! We’re going out tonight with the girls. Sam’s engagement party remember?”

“Oh, fucking hell… Shit, is that tonight?”

“Yes, now hurry your ass up and start thinking about getting ready they’ll be here by 4!”

“I better leave you to it then girls” I said smiling at their banter and started getting up to leave.

Amy scurried off into her room and Mel got up and walked over to me putting her arms round me.

“I’m sorry baby, I completely forgot about this and Sam’s my friend so I can’t call off a night like this, she’ll never forgive me! I’ll make it up to you I promise and I still want to stay with you tonight and tomorrow if you’ll have me?”

“Of course Mel, I’m not mad. I really should stop and see my Mum and Dad while I’m in this side of town anyway.”

“I’ve got an idea” Mel said, “come back here just before 6, we always hang here for several hours first having a few drinks and catching up before we head out so if you come back I can give you a bag of my stuff to take to yours for later tonight when I get home. Plus I can show you off to everyone and make them jealous!”

I gave her a hug and a kiss goodbye and then headed round to my parents for a late lunch if I could catch them. Dad was out fishing for the day so I spent a few hours with Mum before going into town to do a little secret shopping for some things I thought I might need.

——

I Keçiören Escort pulled up outside Mel and Amy’s flat at about 5:40, checked myself in the mirror saying “right Mike… You ready for this? 6 or more partially drunken girls!” This could be a nightmare but could also be extremely fun!

Standing outside the door, I could hear loud music and lots of giggling and loud voices. Typically I knocked several times but there was no answer so I let myself in taking my jacket off in the small hallway walking towards the living room. Rounding the corner I saw Mel in a killer glittery silver dress with her back to me waving a blue coloured dildo around.

“No, this one is Mike!” she said giggling and waving it around in front of her friends!

“I don’t think so” I said, “mine definitely isn’t blue!”

Mel snapped round still grasping the blue rubber phallus, her mouth gaping open, silence for a few seconds and then all her friends burst out laughing uncontrollably, one of them even rolled off the sofa onto the floor with a thud but still kept laughing. I wish I’d had a camera, her face in that moment was priceless.

I smiled, she smiled then giggled and walked up to me put her arms round my neck and kissed me passionately. We kissed for about 15 seconds until her friends started whistling, jeering and calling out “get a room!”

Mel told them all to be quiet and stuck her tongue out at a couple of them and then introduced me to everyone, there were eight girls including Mel all dressed to kill and already on their way to being drunk.

Amy brought me a beer then stood on her tiptoes kissed me on the cheek and whispered “thank you” into my ear.

“What for?” I asked.

“For being you I guess…” she replied, “I’ve not seen Mel this happy since we were in high school.”

“She makes me really happy too and I love that she can be so spontaneous!”

“Hold that thought!” Amy said, rushing off.

The other girls were now all huddled around Mel, whispering about something. ‘That can’t be good I thought’. They all seemed to agree on something, looking at me one at a time and then separated with hushed tones and big smiles.

Mel got up, smiling at me from ear to ear and slinked across the room towards me. “Mike, you remember that you owe me a dare right? And you have to do it, no matter what?”

I nodded, feeling petrified.

“Well…” she continued, “when you came in and I was waving that dildo around we had challenged each other to a deep-throating contest to see who could get the most down their throat and we were trying to find a big one to test it on.”

“So?” I pondered, “what does that have to do with me?”

Her arms wrapped round me I felt like a fawn in the arms of a lion, “I’ve decided that can be your dare babe!”

“What can be my dare? You’re not making sense Mel!”

“We’re gonna use you for the deepthroat competition of course silly!”

“Me, oh my god Mel you can’t be serious!”

“Totally serious, that’s your dare so you have to do it!”

“God Mel!” I said, desperately trying to think of a way out of this scenario but failing miserably. “Okay, look I’ll do it for my dare but you have to promise me that no one will say anything to anyone about this ever!”

Giggling, Mel kissed me on the cheek “don’t worry about it babe, all the girls are either married or have boyfriends so none of them will ever say a thing to anyone.”

Kissing me full on the lips with a tiny bit of tongue, she spun round to her friends and said “he said yes, so let’s get this competition started! So here are the rules… We’ll draw cards for the order of who goes when. Before you start you have to put on a fresh lot of lipstick, then take him as far as you can and press your lips around his shaft to leave a mark. The lip marks will be measured after each attempt to find the winner.”

“What if there’s a draw?” One of the girls shouted out giggling.

“Umm… Okay if there’s a draw, the girls who drew have to deepthroat again to the point they did previously and hold it in their throat for as long as possible. Longest time is the winner! Agreed?”

“Yes!” They all agreed at the same time.

“Right!” Mel announced, “let’s get this party started…” drawing her card she continued, “I’ve got my card the Jack of Diamonds. The rest of you draw while I get Mike ready for action!”

Giggling they all quickly drew and arranged a batting order, so to speak while Mel approached me and sunk to her knees.

Undoing my jeans, she peeled them and my boxers down to my ankles and took me in her talented mouth. Within 20 seconds I was as hard as granite. “That didn’t take long babe! I think you’re a little excited!”

“Are you really sure about doing this Mel?” I whispered.

But she just winked at me and turned back to her friends, “okay ladies, who’s first?” Mel asked.

A blonde called Hayley held up a 2 and said “me I think.” She got up and walked over to me, she actually blushed as she knelt down in front of me and applied a fresh coating of lipstick.

She then held onto my legs gently and lowered her mouth over my cock that was now as hard as an iron bar, I could feel my head pressing against the entrance to her throat but she was struggling and I could hear her gurgling and gagging around my cock.

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

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

It was a calm starlit night. The clouds that so normally covered the Celtic Land had cleared for the evening- a sign from the divine ancients that tonight’s ritual would be a powerful one- One as was about to be performed by the Druid Priestess Baylii. The spot had been found on a hill overlooking the rolling country, topped with a single tree and a toppled monolith dragged here an age ago the old ones- bad spirits in the form of lions and vicious badgers kept the farm folk out of the area.

Baylii could feel it in the Earth, the marching of 50,000 boots, smell the smoke the pillage of the Celtic lands, and know in her heart the scourge of destiny descending upon her long before it would appear to her eyes over the horizon. The Roman’s were coming. Tonight’s Sacrifice would have to be a great one.

She turned away from the Tide of devastation and looked back, right on time she saw Diramatix approaching, a the celtic war chief who was hoping to win favour of her tribe and it’s warriors for the coming battle, she hoped the signs to be favourable to his impending victory as well or else her stubborn tribal manager would not see the importance of a unified front against the roman’s when only last summer had Diramatix been raiding his lands. Like I said this ritual is important- Now, let’s get to the good stuff.

Diramatix came alone, with out his body guard or slaves accompanying him as promised, dressed in his simple tartan cloak held together by the sword belt he wore arming him at his waist he left his helmet at home and his course mane of hair flowed out behind him, bleached by the sun and salt water and lye, he approached the hill and came upon the first of the torches, illuminating from below the Druid Priestess he was here to see.

She was tall with pale skin and hair as dark as the night. She like him was dressed modestly. A cape of Black Bear fur was draped over her, shoulders and eclipsed her whole body, and so warm the she could be naked underneath and still keep the cool night air off her body and pon her head a crown made of deer antlers, still young and soft with velvet. Okay, maybe not as modest.

Diramatix came to her and bowed at her feet, on the battlefield he was leader of the furious charge, but he knew that here where nature and divine ritual met she was ultimate. He kissed Baylii’s bare feet. Having acknowledged her appropriately she bade him stand she raised her hands above her head and began to pray in the old language calling for a sacrifice suitable to give the Celts assured victory.

Then from a leather bag at he side she pulled out large handfuls off wild mushrooms, the kind only druids knew how to find and began to feed them to her Çankaya Escort Companion, she ate a handful herself before returning the bag and renew her incantations with a fervour breaking the stillness of the night. The warrior stood transfixed by her intensity.

The wind picked up out of nowhere and blew out all the torches lit around the hill, the darkness was cut by the light of the full moon and a million stars- the eyes of the gods were looking upon them with singular focus. As sudden as had stirred up the wind dissipated leaving Baylii and Diramatix standing in the pale light and unnerving stillness- the night encircled and expanded outwards from them. They stared into each others eyes for what felt like an age till the glow of Baylii’s skin was blinding all other vision from Diramatix-

and she realised in the sudden swell of darkness that he had taken her hands in his and hers sought the same refuge in his. He was right to be nervous she thought- he didn’t know what was coming next. From out of the darkness behind her and leaping high over her head the snarling anger of a lion. The big cat landed on Diramatix and began to claw at him, he did not have the time nor the space now to draw his sword and so had to start wrestling with the mighty beast, grappling it and trying to keep away from its claws and biting mouth, try as he might though it’s claws raked against him, not scratching his body too deep but absolutely shredding his thick wool cloak off him, exposing more of his muscular battle hardened body to her. This was not the first time the war lord had dough for his life that was sure and he gave as good as he got when it came to blows with the creature,

she admired his shoulders and arms- strong from swinging a sword and engorged with the blood and lust of a fight pumping in them. Baylii’s blood began pumping herself just watching him, as the beast continued to rip his clothes to pieces, getting dangerously close to exposing and then attacking his Most vital exterior appendage, his Great Celtic Love Sword.

Baylii’s hands once again in closed of the warmth of her Cape let her cold hands explore the warmth of her body as she watched the Mortal Kombat they found their way over her breasts and between her legs.

She found a prayer for her fingers to practice on her own sacred druid circle, The area now soft and wet as moss in the dew, as her handsome warrior sparred with her divine nature goddess.

Diramatix managed to get his weight atop the Cat and kick its leg out from under it as he got an arm around it’s neck, forcing it to the ground. He grabbed from the ground a rock and ‘paired to lay a final blow to the creature Baylii Cebeci Escort stayed his hand with a word. She had locked eyes with the creature, and as soon as she began speaking in the old tongue the fight left the lion and it became passive. Diramatix having proved himself an excellent fighter released his opponent and watched as the cat slinked peaceably towards the great stone centred on the hill, and sat upon it, guarding over the shoulder of the Priestess.

He stood before her, the fight finished but the ritual not yet over, in cloth tattered and body slick with sweat and blood and the grime of battle. And she above him rewarded his trial by opening her cloak as a set of wings being discarded beyond her Giving his eyes the vision of her body, unclothed, divine, and painted with sacral symbols with dyes made from the highland flowers. He nipples hardened in the cool air. In his eyes Diramatix saw her ascended and moved to her, taking a knee before her he breathed her in, and she in turn took his hair and drew him closer still. The Lion watching them Yawned that way that Lions do.

Diramatix had made many a fine battle speech in his time and when the fury of the charge overtook him he could let out a war cry frightening the bravest Celts, but he felt sure that what he was currently achieving with his mouth outweighed all else in manifesting his destiny.

Baylii took her hornate crown from her head and separated it into two parts, she handed one part, a twin point antler, soft with velvet remember not pointy or uncomfortable or nothing, celtic silicone basically, to Diramatix, he took it in his sword hand and began rubbing it where he knew her destiny willed it. Then slipping to longer point into her, he began to penetrate easily, easing her divine tool deeper as he continues to lick upon her (did the Celts have) Beaver (s?) till the second prong lined up with her second sacred sweet spot, her honey pot overflowed allowing it slick access to gently enter her and she gasped.

Waves of pleasure overtook her until it removed all other worldly sensations or troubles, her climax was a thunder crack that split the night.

Diramatix pulled off his ruined cloak, wiping away some of the sweat and blood off his body, he stood naked before her as she continued to pleasure herself with her arousing antler, His mighty sex spear hardened exponentially as he took in her form. She then got on her knees on the soft warmth of her discarded cloak. Her hands found his shaft and he found his voice, letting out a moan, he didn’t want to disrespect the priestess but he needed her, Now, his rough barbarian hands grabbed her ravens mane, pulling her braids in rough Çukurambar Escort barbarian handfuls at the back of her head, his cock glided over her lips and into her pagan mouth. Baylii took his length with abandon, as he fucked passionately down her gullet.

Gradually his thrusting eased as she withdrew him from her mouth, it was time for the second half of the ritual. As Baylii stood she brought with her Diramatix sword which he had discarded with his cloak, she handed it to her Warrior she whispered in her ancient tongue for what he do next, Diramatix nodded with understanding. He drew the sword from its sheath and with one fluid motion he pivoted and swung down Decapitating the Lion on its sacred stone, sacrificing the mighty beast to their cause of free love and liberty.

There was a beat as they stood in front of each other, and then warm blood from the ruined neck of the creature squirted forth and splashed on the two Celts,

The warrior took his red priestess In his arms and swept her off her feet, a crimson cascade fell around them as she wrapped him in her legs and he with warrior precision he Impaled her with his love spear, she was as warm as the earth and fertile as the soil. They became a tangle of limbs and hands and vines and arousal as they tumbled amongst the red soaked heather, the carcass was still comically spilling blood as if the monsters heart was still pumping strong. And speaking of Pumping Strong; the hot Celtic sex that was happening before the altar.

With the full moon bathing their sweaty bodies in an erotic glow, and their moans and sighs filled the empty air of the valley. Their passion intensified as He felt her tighten on his throbbing cock, he pulled her deeper into him and she cried with passion into his ear, even without any clit stimulation she found herself on the edge of climax and when she felt his hot passion reach its zenith and he could don’t fuck and faster or deeper if he tried. They came together as the night creatures looked on. Their love burning hotter than the stars. Before they tumbled into sleep in each others arms she took his hand and led him down a hidden path from the hills to a small stream- they bathed in the moonlit water freeing their bodies of the animal blood. Cold hands scrubbing and exploring each others bodies. They shared a kiss before heading back to the hill, where wrapped in her bear cloak, big enough to envelope the two of them they wrapped each other in their arms. Then Diramatix ate her ass for a while, and then they went to sleep. Knowing full well that come the rise of the next days sun He would march with her tribes warriors, while she returned to the forest for more sacred rituals. Each doing their part to live out the good omen the gods had laid upon them this evening and Crush the Roman’s

By the time Julius Caesar had conquered Gaul he had killed 1,000,000 Celts and enslaved 1,000,000 more, though these numbers are certainly inflated by Roman Historians.

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She sat in a spot to which I was unaccustomed – as a patron at her own bar. I stood behind the counter, her usual post, studying her with nervous anticipation as she assessed with a critical eye what I considered my masterful concoction – two icy cold Manhattans – up.

The color of the libations was perfect, a burnt orange amber. The glasses, traditional, conically shaped cocktail glassware with long stems, were filled to within a half-inch of the rim. The exterior of the glasses exuded an icy sweat. An Italian maraschino cherry nestled itself at the bottom of each cocktail along with an orange peel, both completely submerged. I was genuinely nervous about the unfolding experiment and much anticipated challenge.

I’d proffered the challenge a couple months previously (I couldn’t recall exactly when) via e-mail. I’d been diligent in keeping in touch with her, Theresa, my cherished Fantasy Dom. The evolution of our relationship inspired my fawning communications. With each message I’d send her way, I’d recall the first time we’d really crossed from the realm of fantasy into the territory of Femdom/slave. She manipulated me into a date with a hair brush on my bottom. I remembered with even more excitement our next liaison, during which I’d knelt before her, blindfolded and wrist-bound, my face buried obediently between her thighs, worshiping her in oral servitude. I relived those exotic episodes in my mind as I sent her tributes, poems and silly cartoons that I hoped expressed my admiration – my infatuation – my devotion to my Fantasy Dom, and occasional Real Dom.

It was in that context that I’d extended to her a playful challenge, one that occurred to me as I sought to perfect the mixing of a perfect Manhattan cocktail. My Fantasy Dom and I both fancied ourselves capable bartenders and we both enjoyed treating the other to the most delightful alcoholic concoctions. After creating a particularly delicious cocktail for myself one evening, I wrote to her:

“I’ve been practicing and, masterful bartender that you are, I think I can create a Manhattan that will rival yours. I’ll bet you that when you partake of it, you’ll admit it; that mine is superior. In fact, it will put yours to shame. I will bury you!”

Those were strong words, a brave and boastful claim I sent her way. But I was slightly inebriated, feeling playful and confident. And maybe just a bit cocky. I hoped not too cocky.

The challenge languished for some time, lingering unacknowledged, in digital limbo. Then one day I received a phone call from my friend Thomas, her husband, asking if I’d be available and interested in filling in for him in a golf tournament at their country club. Turns out Thomas had some unexpected business in the city and was unavailable for his golf commitment. Fees were already paid, and the group just needed a replacement to round out the foursome.

It was not that unusual a request. I’d played golf with the mister many times on their course (their lovely home stood adjacent to one of the holes) and I’d even played before with a couple of the guys in the group. Thomas also conveyed an invitation from the Missus, Theresa, my Fantasy Dom, that she and I have dinner at the club after the tournament. That really caught my attention. The thought of my Fantasy Dom’s company in any situation was arousing. Dinner sounded splendid. Lustful scenes of additional extra curricular activity raced through my thoughts. It never occurred to me that the opportunity might be associated with the Manhattan challenge.

I promptly checked with my wife, Marcy. While she was most always generous with my requests to go golfing, she seemed almost overly eager for me to accept this invitation. “Absolutely,” she said, “Go early, stay late and have a blast. I know you’ll have a great time!” she encouraged.

I got back with Thomas and accepted the invitation. And then, to my delight, I subsequently received a confidential e-mail from my Fantasy Dom. It read:

Minion – When you visit for the golf tournament, bring your best bartending skills as well as your preferred ingredients for a Manhattan cocktail. I intend to pass judgment on your boasting. For superlative performance there’ll be a reward. There’ll be punishment for hubris. You’re forewarned.

Wow! She appeared all in on this, more than I could have dreamed. Her warning made me a tad nervous, but I was very much looking forward to the golf. And I was intoxicated by the Manhattan challenge.

I much anticipated the date and was thoroughly juiced when it finally arrived. I drove the forty miles to the country club and met my playing partners on the driving range. We teed off on the 15th hole in a shotgun start. I savored the grandeur of the pine forest, scrub oak and red rock formations. I joined in the camaraderie, joking and cheering within the group. I felt good about a few of my shots that were timely contributions to the contest. And, of course, I cursed the slippery greens.

Afterward batıkent escort a round of beers and a brief congratulatory ceremony (my team was nowhere near placing in the top three), I drove to my Fantasy Dom’s home, a short distance away, nestled next to one of the golf course’s fairways. I knocked on the side door (privileged entrance) and she answered. She didn’t hesitate to place her arms around my neck and give me a slightly wet and not-so-innocent kiss on the lips. It lingered. It was delicious. It was stirring. I wanted it to last longer but she broke it off and suggested I shower and prepare for dinner.

I cleaned up quickly and then, as I was killing some time before our departure, I seized the initiative and took four long-stemmed cocktail glasses from the bar shelf and placed them gently into their freezer in the adjacent room. I figured I’d need them later. Just as I finished the task she entered the room and approached. She looked like she had taken a little extra care with some makeup and a flattering outfit. I complimented her but stopped short of revealing to her that I was captivated by her allure. I was putty in her hands and was pretty sure she knew it.

“Let’s go,” she announced. “And game’s on,” she remarked with her own cool poker face. “Manhattans when we return, after dinner. You and me. At the bar,” she declared with a taunting edge to her voice. It was vaguely reminiscent of a desperado throwing down the gauntlet to the town sheriff in an old Western. “You and me…on main street…at sundown.”

When we reached the car, she stood at the passenger door, obviously expecting that I’d open and close it for her. I obliged eagerly. There was no mention of the Manhattan challenge on the short drive to the club. She was flirty, poking my shoulder and then squeezing my bicep affectionately while we conversed. I marveled at her devilish feminine intuition, knowing so well how to be coy and seductive. Of course, the kinky nature of the situation occurred to me as well. She was a married woman. I was a married man. She just happened to be a married woman who possessed a tincture (or two) of tantalizing naughtiness, who had begun to explore some Femdom games with me. And I just happened to be a married man with an uncontrollable fetish to be subbed by a dominant female, especially by the one in my present company.

Upon being seated at the restaurant, she took charge immediately. She ordered for me without asking my preferences. (“The gentleman will have the salmon,” I recall she said.) It was a fine dinner, with solicitous service, fine presentation and satisfying food. During the meal she continued some light flirtations…a private wink, a secret pursing of lips, a brushing of knees under the table and the bestowment of one particular furtive touch on my upper thigh. She knew me well and was keenly aware that I found quite stirring her clandestine coquetry. And it was not so unusual. Hell, she’d teased me and touched me many times even while in her husband’s presence, a practice I found most daring. And thrilling.

After dinner we hopped into my vehicle. Again, she waited at the door for a respectful attendant and I obliged. On the brief return drive home she continued to tease me gently, with soft, innocent touches that accompanied her animated conversation.

When we arrived home, she spoke of the challenge as I waited for her to exit the vehicle. “Better get downstairs and set up the bar. You’ll have to back up your bragging. The perfect Manhattan,” she exclaimed with an almost sarcastic edge. She paused. “If I recall, you wanted to bet me that I’d prefer yours to my own. Something about burying me. We’ll find out.”

I had brought my own ingredients – some Maker’s Mark bourbon, Dolin Rouge sweet vermouth, some Italian maraschino cherries, a clementine orange, Peychaud’s Aromatic Cocktail Bitters and some handcrafted simple syrup. I brought them in from the car and set them up at the bar. I glanced in the freezer to reassure myself that the cocktail glasses were chilled and ready to go. I organized my tools. Stainless steel shaker. Swizzle spoon stirrer. Shot glass. Sharp knife. Wet bar towel. I was ready as I could be.

I stood behind the bar and waited. A good five minutes I waited, with inexplicably nervous anticipation. She finally showed up, sauntering in with a swagger of confidence, self-assurance and that take-charge aura I found so irresistible. I acknowledged to myself that she knew how to play me like a virtuoso violinist masters her fiddle.

She snuggled into a barstool across from me, as a patron at her own bar. I so wanted to impress her. I so wanted her to acknowledge that I’d risen to the challenge and created a Manhattan that rivalled her own. And I fantasized about a possible reward. What, oh what might it be?

I decided to make two drinks at once. I knew she’d be watching carefully. Right off, I realized that beşevler escort a professional bartender would pour and not measure. I wasn’t that confident. So, I measured (hoping she wouldn’t be overly critical of his amateurism) four shots of bourbon, just under two shots of sweet vermouth and six healthy dashes of bitters into the shaker. I added just a tiny splash of simple syrup, just enough to register on the taste buds and a quick squeeze of fresh orange. I added ice to the concoction. Lots of ice. And I began to agitate it with the swizzle spoon. I stirred and stirred, for a good 45 seconds and then let the shaker rest. I retrieved two of the frozen cocktail glasses and placed them carefully on the bar. Their exposure to the air turned them attractively frosty. I held a strainer tightly atop the shaker and poured two Manhattans, hoping she’d think they were as exquisite as I did. After pouring, I delicately placed an Italian maraschino cherry and peel of orange into each drink.

I stood behind the counter, studying her with uneasy expectancy as she assessed with a critical eye what I considered my masterful concoctions. There they were. Two icy cold Manhattans – up. The color was perfect, a burnt orange amber. The cocktail glasses were filled to within a half-inch of the rim and exuded an icy sweat. An Italian maraschino cherry and orange peel nestled in the bottom of each cocktail, completely submerged. Here it was. The moment of truth. The Manhattan experiment was at hand.

“Dirty ice,” she ordered, before even touching the glass.

It took me a second to realize that she wanted access to the ice cubes in which I’d been stirring the booze. She pointed to the shaker with her index finger and repeated, “Dirty ice…three cubes.”

I carefully probed the shaker with my swizzle spoon and began transferring three half-melted cubes of ice, coated with the bourbon, vermouth, bitters and light sugary residue. I placed them oh so carefully into her cocktail. There was no splash. It was the gentlest addition to a cocktail imaginable. I hoped I’d earn points for some professionalism.

She scrutinized me as carefully as she studied the drink. She was intentional, I perceived, in making me more nervous. She lifted the chalice by the glass stem, held it to the light, squinted through the amber liquid and then took a long sip. She pursed her lips and engaged her full palate with exaggerated savoring. She appeared as serious as a vintner at a high stakes wine tasting.

She showed no immediate reaction. It was as though she had drunk or tasted nothing. A real poker face. She stared at me. Then she stared at the cocktail. She took another long sip. Then she kept nipping at it but said not a word. I, bamboozled by her austere persona as I was, remained respectfully silent. I matched her sip for sip, long draw for long draw. She exuded serious deliberation and created a palpable silence. She’d drunk half of her libation within a few minutes and then passed verdict.

“You deserve a reward for a great Manhattan. It is elegant. Delicious. Just the right combination of complementary flavors. It’s truly a masterpiece. My compliments.” She quaffed another mouthful, greedily this time, leaving but about a third of the cocktail in the glass. “A reward, indeed, as promised.”

“But…” she continued in a disapproving tone. “You deserve a punishment for the maraschino cherry. I’ve told you in the past that I don’t like maraschino cherries.” Indeed, she had. On more than one past occasion. But I figured it was simply a required garnish in a Manhattan up. Oops!

She sipped again, leaving about a quarter of the libation in the glass.

“And,” she continued, “You deserve a punishment for soliciting a bet from me. If I recall, you bet that I’d defer to your superior libation. I don’t bet. You know I don’t bet. Don’t ever try to get me to bet again! You deserve another punishment for that!” Again, I silently acknowledged her criticism. We’d visited Las Vegas as couples and she was completely uninterested in gambling – wouldn’t stick a single quarter in a slot. Moreover, she’d expressed her distaste for gambling. I realized that my choice of words (“I’ll bet you…”) was unfortunate.

She drained the rest of her Manhattan.

“AND,” she emphasized, her tone growing ever more stern, “You deserve a punishment for arrogance. You told me that you’d outdo me in a Manhattan mixing contest. In kind of a snotty way, I might add. As though bartending is a zero-sum game of one-upmanship. ‘I’ll bury you’ I think you said. Really? A challenge like that from a minion? You should know better,” she scolded. “Shame on you!”

She let a long moment lapse and conjured up a stern glare directly into my eyes before she continued. I was unsure if she was feigning a steely comportment or if it was genuine. I really didn’t know. She looked so serious. Her tone grew even more assertive.

“Do büyükesat escort the math,” she instructed. “One positive plus three negatives. That equals…what?”

“Two negatives,” I answered honestly.

“Correct,” she responded. “Or, three punishments minus one reward equals two punishments…no rewards.” She paused but a moment before ordering, “Make us another round.”

Though my interest was thoroughly piqued by her assertive behavior, I put it aside as best I could and went about my business, trying to match the diligence I’d displayed in preparing the first go-round. Having kept up with her drinking pace, I was feeling delightfully giddy and assumed she was too. As I concentrated on my preparations, she seemed to be lost in thought, contemplating something.

“You okay?” I asked, stirring the new batch with loving attention.

“I sure am,” she answered, pulling herself back into the present. “I’m just making up my mind.” She paused again. “I’m deciding how to dispense justice,” she explained, much as a real judge might issue a sentence to a convicted defendant in a courtroom.

Taken aback and with my temperature rising, I fetched the two fresh, frozen glasses. I poured the libation. I did not add a maraschino cherry. I did drop three cubes of “dirty ice” into her cocktail. She took a long draw.

“Mmmm,” she purred in appreciation. “And I’m wondering,” she continued, savoring the Manhattan’s residue on her lips with a diabolically salacious slow lick. “Should there be two separate punishments? Or should they be integrated into one?”

I took a generous slug to of my cocktail to mask my autonomic response of a flushing face. I was too tongue-tied to respond; a tad too tipsy to think of something witty. I felt utterly at her mercy. I thought to myself, “I bet she’s got me right where she wants me.”

Her slightly cocked head, mischievous grin, squinted eye and raised brow suggested as much. Her next command confirmed his internal wager. “Get out from behind that bar. Come here,” she ordered, beckoning me also with her index finger.

“Get naked. Now!” she demanded.

To say I was taken aback by her directive understates the rush I felt throughout my body. I spoke not a word but hesitated a second too long.

“I said, get over here and take off your fucking clothes, slave!”

That got my attention. I complied with alacrity.

“Take off your glasses too,” she said, as I stripped off my underwear self-consciously. And, as I set my glasses aside, I thought to myself that she well knew that the world gets awfully fuzzy for me without my spectacles.

“Learning position,” she said. I wasn’t sure what that meant. She recognized my ignorance and so described it for me, with a hint of exasperation. “Stand tall.” She awaited my compliance. “Shoulders back.” Again, she waited. “Chin down. Look straight ahead.” It was like a checklist. “Feet shoulder-width apart, hands clasped behind your back.”

I had assumed the learning position. And with that, she slapped me on the side of my face.

“I’ve decided. Two separate punishments. A little chastising first.” And she slapped me again, probably not as hard as she could but firmly enough to get my attention. A half a dozen times she smacked the palm of her hand against my cheek. Then she pointed to the ottoman a few steps away.

“Take the belt out of your pants and give it to me. And bend over that ottoman.” I did as she instructed, pretty sure of what was about to happen. I lay across the ottoman as she doubled the belt on itself. Whack! She unleashed it on my bare bottom. It definitely smarted. Whack! She did it again. I lost track of how many times the belt snapped my bum. Perhaps a dozen. And then there was a particularly wicked flurry of wallops with special emphasis, as if to show me how merciful she’d been with the previous blows.

“That’s punishment number one,” she explained. “Now back in the learning position.” I tried to recall all of her instructions. I stood in my previous spot, shoulders back. I stared straight ahead. Feet apart, hands clasped behind my back.

She scooted the ottoman in front of me and sat. Her head was just above waist high, directly in front of my abdomen. She reached for and sipped at her cocktail, set it down and then reached her hand in between my legs. She encircled my testicles with her fingers and rubbed gently.

“Do you know what blue balls are?” she asked.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I replied honestly.

“Tell me,” she encouraged.

“Well…” I thought carefully, “It’s when a guy gets super excited and is thinking he’s going to cum but then, for whatever reason, he doesn’t. And then his balls ache from the…” I searched again for the right words, “…from being taken to the edge of ejaculating and then…denied.”

“Very good! You know exactly what blue balls are. And that’s going to be your second punishment tonight. I’m going to tease you. I’m going to tease the hell out of you. But I’m not going to let you cum. Have you ever had blue balls?”

“Yeah. But it’s been a while. High school I suppose. Making out with Sarah Bevins for a really long time. We both had roaming hands. But that’s as far as we got. I remember going home and feeling this ache in my balls. But, like I said, it’s been a long time.”

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Click. The flame from the lighter flickers as her mind wanders to what it will feel like. The cigarette sizzles and alights as the flame connects. Not my first time, but it always feels strange. The heady rush comes first as a long, deep inhale kickstarts her system. Let’s try this then….another long drag as her hand moves down to her crotch. Rub and inhale, rub and inhale she tells herself. The combination of headiness and pleasure combine as her body starts to work. She greedily takes another long drag as her fingers work her clit. Ok this works. Much better than I thought…

She tells him she has something special lined up for him tonight. This immediately starts a period of wondering and arousal in him. You have to wait here, she says, I’m off upstairs to get ready.

His mind works overtime thinking (hoping…) what it might be. Sounds come from the stairs. In she comes. Wow. High heels, stockings, a thong, and a tight corset top. ankara yabancı escort Finished off with bright pink shiny lipstick naturally. Come with me she says even as she spies some movement in his crotch. She leads him upstairs where they enter the room. He immediately sees an ashtray, a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. Now he is stiffening quite quickly. Get undressed and on the bed she says. No second ask needed and he quickly does so. Then the blindfold and wrist ties come into view. That’s right, you’re mine tonight she purrs. Bingo he thinks approvingly.

He’s now in place and blindfolded and tied. He is so very hard, and she loves it.

She gently kisses his lips, and runs her fingers over his body, stopping off at all the parts she knows he loves. He hears her move off the bed and leave the room. Unconcerned, he starts to think what else she has in store. Soon after, bahçelievler escort a shuffling into the room happens. He’s not sure what’s going on but then he hears a click of a lighter and a smell of smoke hit the air. Then the same thing happens again. Now he’s confused. She removes his blindfold to reveal her and her friend, who is equally resplendent in heels, underwear and bright shiny red lipstick. I know this is naughty she says…but she can tell by the look in his eyes, and his straining cock, that he very much approves. They take a long drag and exhale as they kiss each other. They continue to kiss and look at him and his response. Fondling one another, flicking nipples, and caressing each other’s body, he’s in heaven. She moves her friends hand down to her crotch and the touch of fingers on clitoris, seeing his face, makes her so wet. Within seconds she is shuddering to an balgat escort orgasm as she inhales and experiences that same heady rush from before.

The women look at each other and move towards him. They start kissing his body, teasing and licking every part of him. His cock is so hard and inviting. They both light up again and share a kiss before taking it in turns to take his length in their mouths. Fondling each other and wanking and sucking him, they come closer and kiss him, stimulating every part of his body. She then moves astride his cock and starts to bounce up and down on it, letting out a moan. Having her nipples played with by her friend, he is getting a beautiful sight and sensation. After a few minutes, she gets off and the women go at his cock with delight. Sucking and slurping, kissing over the head of his cock. He can feel the cum rising, and she can sense it too. She lights a cigarette for him. He inhales strongly as they continue to work away at him. The twitches start and she gets her friend to start wanking his cock as she clamps her lips round the head. His body convulses as he sucks deeply and explodes all over her face. She then passionately kisses her friend as the cum is shared between them. The sight is like nothing else and he has never been so thoroughly turned on before. Naughty indeed.

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The Monday after my near deballing, my wife told me that she was going to change out my cage to a new one. She had me stand in the bathroom in front of her. She took the key and unlocked the lock and gently removed the cage. My penis was shriveled and grossly deformed from the couple of months it had been locked up. Large groves crossed my skin where the cage had imprisoned it. Shit, it felt good to be out of it. I reached down and rubbed, then pulled on it to stretch it out. She watched as I got hard. My cock got hard slowly, as if it had forgotten how to do it. Once I had become erect, I looked down. My cock looked sad. Lack of use had made it shrink a bit. It was not nearly as thick either. It just looked pathetic.

My wife changed out the ring that went around my balls, then showed me the new cage. It was almost identical to my last one, but was a full size smaller. I told her that I would not fit in the new one. She laughed and told me to let her determine that. My cock was rigid and did not want to cooperate as she tried to force it in. She rubbed lube on it, but that didn’t work either. She got up left the bathroom for a moment. She came back with a handful of crushed ice from the refrigerator. My wife took my cock and placed it in her hand with the ice. I howled, squirmed and tried to pull away. My cock shriveled up so small, it looked like a small clit. She immediately pushed the cage over my nub and locked it. She then looked at me and told me that she knew it would fit.

Over the next three months, I fell into a regular routine. Since James had nearly severed my balls off, I had accepted the fact that my wife only wanted him inside her and I was fine with that. During the week, her and I would spend quality time together. She would show me undying love and affection, during the week, but no sex. She would mount my face and have me give her oral sex almost nightly. My level of sexual frustration was off the charts. At home, I was a cock sucking submissive, but at work I had begun releasing some of that frustration on my staff. I had become a tyrant. Shit was getting done and I was large and in charge. Everyone in the company ran when they saw me and tried to look busy. I was once again feeling like an Alpha Male.

That feeling would change every Friday evening as I would get home from the office. James would arrive and take my wife from me and use her like a cheap whore. It became my job to get her ready for him. I would wash her up, shave her pussy and help her get dressed. James loved when she played sexy dress up and regularly sent me to the store to get sexy playthings for them. He enjoyed taking her new sexy clothes and tearing them off of her as soon as her saw her. I was spending thousand of dollars on clothes Çankaya Escort she only wore once, before he would tear them to shreds. He regularly violated my ass and mouth. When my wife had her period, he spent a whole weekend fucking me in front of her. James had a terrible mean streak in him. He was extremely possessive and very abusive. My wife got off on his displays of raw animalistic behavior. Sadly, I was usually the recipient of most of his wrath.

There was a small ray of hope though. My wife had begun to let me out of my cage for a few minutes on Thursday evenings. After dinner, we would go into the bedroom and she would have me lay on the bed. She would unlock me and have me get as hard as I could. She would then give me a condom to put on and tell me to start jerking off. As I would, she would sit on my face and have me orally pleasure her beautiful pussy. It would never take me long to cum. In fact, sometimes, just burying my face in her wet pussy would set me off. I was so sexually frustrated a small breeze would had done the same thing. My wife would allow me to remain uncaged until she orgasmed also. Then she would make me stand in front of the toilet, take off the condom and throw it in the bowl. She always made it a point to then sit down and piss all over it, just to show me how useless my cock snot was. Then it was back into the cage for the next week.

Like I mentioned, this went on for a few months, then, late in the afternoon one Friday she called me crying. Well not crying, more like inconsolable hysteria. I could not understand a word she was saying. I asked her if she wanted me to come home. She said yes. Something was very wrong. I got to the condo in record time. I arrived to find her on the floor in the fetal position in the living room. She looked terrible. Her eyes were puffy red and snot poured down her face. I went and got a towel and wiped her face off. I held her tightly and rocked her gently. She just balled her eyes out for hours. Finally, she had no energy left to cry. I asked her what happened. She couldn’t even get it out. She handed me her phone. I looked down and it was on one of her texts. She reached over and scrolled it up a bit. It was a text from James.

They had been texting about him coming over tonight. He was excited because he wanted to do some bondage tonight. He told her that he was going to tie her to the bed and make her watch him abuse me. Then he was slowly going to fuck her in every hole. He was going to make her his sex slave. She had responded that her pussy was already drenched and she could not wait. He said he was going to the gym first and then would be over. A while passed and she texted him. He did not answer. Cebeci Escort She did it again and still no answer. Soon, she was blowing up his phone with texts. Finally, there was a response. The response said that James had died. While at the gym, he had a massive heart attack, some sort of genetic thing that he did not know about. The partner from his practice had been at the hospital when her arrived and he had his phone and his possessions. The text said he was sorry that he had to text her the news, but he could see that she was worried.

Holy fuck! Dead? It made no sense at all. He was ripped, fit and very virile. He was the picture of manliness. There was no way this could be true. I held her close and told her I was sorry she was so sad. I kissed her forehead and cuddled with her till midnight. I took her to bed and spooned her the rest of the night. The next morning, she woke up as sad as the night before. She told me how much she missed him and the thought of not having him, crushed her soul. I held her tightly. She looked up at me and told me that she loved me. I responded that I loved her too. She then softly asked me to make love to her. I guess I thought I was hearing things because I didn’t respond. She repeated her request again. My wife spoke in a whisper and said she wanted me to make love to her.

I rolled over and got the key for my cage from the nightstand and unlocked myself. I massaged my cock for a few minutes to wake it up. My new cage had totally destroyed any hope of getting any sort of erection quickly. I looked down. My penis was a small nub, crisscrossed with marks from the cage. It was not responding. I asked her to help me. She reached down between my legs and searched to find my penis. Once she did, she looked up at me with a surprised look. She pushed out her bottom lip as if to say she was sad at what she had found. I felt like shit. She fiddled with my cock for a bit and it started to respond. I pulled her close to me and pushed the tip into her vagina. I held her close to my chest as we laid on our sides. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her deeply.

I gently pumped my hips as I pressed my penis into her. She held my head with her hands as we kissed. Her kiss was very passionate, as if to say she was sorry for the last few months. Little by little our pace picked up. She began caressing my face and my neck. I rolled on top of her and started to press myself as deeply as I could inside her. I could not reach the depths James did or even the depths I use to reach. My cock was just too beat up and abused. It had spent too much time locked up in its prison. I tried my hardest to be the best lover I could. It didn’t take too long before I Çukurambar Escort had the first orgasms inside my wife in months. It felt good, no it felt fantastic. It was not a strong orgasm but at least it was one.

Needless to say, I had done nothing to make my wife have one. Seconds later, my cock retreated and slipped out of her. There was no gush of cum pouring out like with James. Just a small bead of white, the size on a pill appeared. I went down on her and began to work my magic. She placed her hands on the back of my head and worked my face into her spot. My work paid off quickly, as she had a small orgasm. She threw her legs over my shoulders and kept my head between her legs. She told me to do it again. I went back to work. This time it took me longer, but again, she had a small orgasm. We spent the rest of the day in bed.

Weeks passed. It took some time for my wife to become sexual again. A few times per week, she would ask me to make love to her. It was always a gentle, loving session, never the rough and wild sex that she had with James. She was clearly a broken woman in the depths of depression. One good thing had finally come of all of this. Since the day we made love in our bed, my cock had remained unlocked. The cage had been put in the nightstand with the other one. I once again had access to my cock. It had not returned to its former glory, but at least I had access. I even got to make love to my wife again. I was beginning to like the change.

Her depression slowly lifted over time. On a few occasions, she would dress up and tease me before we made love. It was beginning to fell like old times. A smile appeared on her face more often. Things were improving. Finally, one night, she told me that she wanted to be “fucked”. I knew what she meant and I was happy to oblige. I mimicked some of the things that I saw James do to her. She played along. It was obvious that I wasn’t as good as he was, but I was trying hard. I came inside her with a scream. It had been a strong orgasm, the strongest in a long time. She had not orgasmed yet. I tried to finger her pussy like James had. It did not work. She pulled my had away and asked me to eat her pussy. It was the one thing I did well. She came all over my face. A thin stream of goo slipped out as she did. It was just enough to wet my mouth. Not the gush that usually gagged me, from James.

Once we had both finished I took her in my arms. We held each other for a while before she began to talk. She told me that I had been an amazing husband. She said that she had really loved how I had consoled her for the months since James’ death. My wife then professed her undying love and devotion to me. A broad smile crossed my face. She was finally mine again. BUT, she continue, she just wasn’t satisfied with our sex life. She needed more, much more. She said that she wanted to have another lover, to take James’ place. She needed another Alpha Male to take her, fuck her and use her like a cheap whore. She knew I could never be that person and needed to have that in her life. My heart stopped. Shit! Not again.

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