Ay: Ağustos 2023

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

John was running late, and I was worried that he was going to miss the plane. He had to meet a client for lunch and we had agreed that we would meet at the office at 2:00 and drive to the airport together. I’m a punctual person, and he tries to be but sometimes things get in the way. Our flight was at 5:00 and we’re about 30 minutes from the airport. It’s now 2:45 and I’m getting nervous. I know that airlines say that you need to be at the airport 2 hours before the flight and I don’t like to be late.

I just sent him a text. “Where are you? We need to leave for the airport!”

His reply. “Sorry, be there in less than 5 minutes. Meeting ran long. We’ll still make it. Trust me.”

Ok, we’ll be fine. John says that a lot: trust me. And the funny thing is that I do trust him, more than I imagined that I would or could. The last few weeks have been crazy, absolutely crazy. He has changed my life around, mostly for the good, but I have to trust that he will continue to be worthy of my trust. I think I’m falling in love with him. That’s not good for either of us, though, because we both have too much to lose. My husband deserves more than I am giving him, and Jenny, John’s wife, does too. They are both really great people, but it seems that fate (although I don’t really believe in fate) has brought John and I together.

I knew that he was crazy for me when we were kids. He followed me around and was always trying to get me to date him, but he wasn’t the right guy for me. He has changed so much from then. And I have too, I guess.

John was tall, scrawny, not very handsome really. He was always funny and fun, but he didn’t seem to have much focus in life. I told him that I was going to be a pastor’s wife and that was the reason that we couldn’t date, but it was less about that and more about the fact that he just didn’t seem serious enough about his life and his goals.

So he went and married Jenny, and I met Tom. I don’t know that I ever really loved Tom, but he was a serious man and a pastor, and so stable. I didn’t grow up in a stable home, and I wanted my kids to have a steady, constant mom and dad. Tom is that. He’s not exciting, not fun, but he has always been a good husband and father.

When he lost his church, though, it threw him into a tailspin. He seemed to have lost focus, and I didn’t know what to do to help him. I was sure that my sleeping with another man wasn’t the answer for him, but it was the first time in my life that I had done something for me. It’s selfish and it’s wrong, but the stress at home had become too great, and having John as an outlet was the safest way to cope with it all. John has boundaries and he’s a good friend and boss. He saved my life, and he had no idea how important he became.

When he made that crazy offer to pay me all that money to sleep with him, I was shocked. No, shocked would be an understatement. I had never even thought about another man besides Tom, and I certainly never thought that I would be unfaithful to Tom. It was so far from my normal life to even think about another man. Good, Christian women just don’t do that. It’s so wrong, and I know that it’s a sin. But he found a weakness in me. He had no idea how much we needed that money. We were drowning, and the money saved us from being homeless. We had moved in with my parents, but that wasn’t a good thing for any of us, and we couldn’t stay there forever. Plus, we had medical bills that were killing us, so any money that I made was going to pay those off. It was so hard, and John took all of that away. Is it really so wrong to do something sinful if it saves your family from ruin? Didn’t I really do a good thing for Tom and Kelsey? I sacrificed my body for the good of my family. I gave up my virtue, but it was for a good cause. I felt guilty for a little while, but then we stopped getting calls from debt collectors, and it seemed worth the sacrifice. Instead of being a sinner, I think I did something good for my family.

The problem is that I LOVED it. I had never had a man worship my body like that, never had someone who only wanted to give me pleasure. John was so gentle, so kind, and he made it obvious that all he wanted to do was to help me enjoy the time with him.

And, God help me, I did enjoy it. He made my body respond in ways that I didn’t even know were possible. I had no idea that sex could be fun, overwhelming and such an amazing experience. Tom and I were both virgins when we got married, and neither one of us had even kissed anyone else. And Tom believes that we should deny our pleasures for the glory of God, so sex is not a huge part of our marriage.

We do have sex (well, we did – we haven’t had much in the last year), but he believes that it’s something that we have to do, not something that we should want to do. He denies himself pleasure for the glory of God, so we would have sex every couple of weeks or so, but he never saw it as anything more than a marital necessity. Husbands and wives should have sex, Adana Escort but they should use it as a way to worship God. We always pray together before sex, and it doesn’t help make the mood.

And then the way that we do it, well, it’s not romantic. No candles, no music, nothing like the romance books or soap operas. It’s something that we share, but it doesn’t really connect us as husband and wife. He climbs on, and pushes it in a few times until he orgasms, and then he rolls over and goes to sleep. 10 minutes max, including the prayer.

But I do love Tom in spite of it all. I just wish that he could thrill me. But that’s not his personality. If I gave him a book on sex (and I couldn’t because that would be evil pornography), he could study it and learn the mechanics of sex, but I don’t think that he could make the connection between sex and romance. He’s not romantic, and could never understand that a woman needs romance AND sex. He provides for us (well, he always has, and he will again, I’m sure), and that’s his way of showing love. But I cannot imagine Tom just coming up to me and taking me in his arms to kiss me. We just don’t show that kind of affection.

So when John came along and offered to pay me to sleep with him, that was so far from my way of life that I couldn’t even conceive of such a thing. Oh, I knew that some men are addicted to sex and would use prostitutes for their evil desires, but I couldn’t imagine that a man as good as John would be that kind of man. I’ve known him forever, and I know that he’s not that kind of man. He might not have been the kind of stable husband that I wanted, but he is a good man. I knew that, and it didn’t correspond with his evil request. I didn’t know what to do.

But John was so kind through it all, and I could tell that he wanted to help us. It’s just that his solution was unusual. Since then, it has come to make sense, but it didn’t make sense then. How could he ask me to be unfaithful to my husband, just so that he could soil me with his evil? I didn’t slap him when he made the offer, but I thought about it. At first, I rejected it completely. It was ludicrous, wrong, evil, crazy. There was no way that I would do such a thing. And I would run away from him and never see him again. I had thought about calling his wife and telling her, but something kept me from doing that. I probably should have, but I didn’t.

But then I understood that the money was the important thing for my family, more important than my reputation or my self-esteem. If I was willing to sacrifice my body, I could stop the cycle of despair and, hopefully, turn it around for us. We couldn’t possibly keep going much longer. I couldn’t imagine my darling Kelsey being homeless, and the thought of Tom feeling like a failure, well, that meant that I had to do whatever I could to make things better.

So I agreed to meet John. I thought that I would meet him and just lay back and take his penis for a few minutes, and it would all be over. I had no idea what he would do to me. I mean, my husband had never even seen me naked, but John got me to take off all of my clothes in front of him. I undressed for him. I have never done that for Tom, not once. But I did for John.

I keep asking myself why I did such a thing, why I changed so much for him that night, and I still don’t know why. Before I even knew what the sex was like, he changed me. And I kissed him, like a starving woman, I kissed him. Tom doesn’t make me that way, doesn’t make me greedy for his kisses. So how did John get me to do that? And even more, I asked him to kiss me!

Oh my, I just realized that the thought of him has made me wet down there. A month ago, that sort of feeling would have never happened, but now it seems to happen every time that I’m in the room with him, or now even thinking about him. What am I going to do with myself? I’m a mother and a pastor’s wife! I can’t be like this!

Chapter 2

A few minutes later, John came flying into my office. “Sorry, I’m so late! Where are your bags? Are you ready to go?”

I pointed to the carryon next to my desk, got up and straightened my skirt, and smiled at this man who is the exact opposite of my husband. When he walks into a room, the energy level increases. He’s a force of nature, and people stand up and take notice.

“I’ve got my bag in the trunk. Do you need to do anything else before we go?” He gave me that smile that makes my knees weak, and I shook my head. “Ok, let’s go!” He grabbed my bag and started out to his car. I followed behind, like a little puppy, a little disoriented by it all.

John travels all the time, but I don’t. I’ve only flown maybe 5 or 6 times in my whole life, so flying is a big deal. I still believe, for example, that people should dress their best for flights, and I was dressed in a nice suit that made me look very professional. A business woman, that’s what I am, I thought. I’m his Executive Assistant.

John popped the trunk Adana Escort Bayan and put my bag next to his. Then he opened my car door and helped me in. I had a large purse that I kept with me, and I slid into the soft leather seat. It was a warm day and the seat was a little hot, so I sat gingerly, hoping that I wouldn’t burn my legs on the leather. John went around to his side and climbed in, smiled at me as he started the car, and we were off. He asked if I minded if he made some business calls while he drove, and I told him that it was fine. We would have plenty of time to talk this week.

While he talked to one of the attorneys about a contract that they were finalizing, I sat there and thought back to the boy that I knew, way back when. The boy that had apparently fallen in love with me and that I had now fallen in love with. He has changed so much, I thought. That gangly, goofy body had transformed into a lean, trim, muscular one, and he looked so good. Seeing him without clothes was an amazing sight, and I don’t think he even realized just how good his muscles looked. He wasn’t huge, but the muscles seemed to just make him look lean and healthy. Like a swimmer, I thought.

And his personality had changed, too. Well, not really changed, but mellowed. As a boy, he was always moving from one thing to the next, and rarely seemed to settle on one thing. He was smart but had trouble in school because he didn’t seem to care about it. But now, he still had that energy that made you want to be around him, but he had developed this laser-like focus that allowed him to accomplish work and use his intelligence wisely.

He had always been a very kind person, and that only seemed to be stronger now. Even when he was having a very hard conversation with someone, the way that he did it meant that you couldn’t help but like and admire him. Everyone around him felt like he wanted the best for them, and they would then give him their best efforts because they wanted him to be happy. It isn’t the normal model for managing employees, but John is not the normal manager. He had this way of making people believe that they could move mountains, and that he was behind them all the way. Genuine, I thought, that’s a good word to describe him. You never thought that he was trying to pull a fast one.

Even when he made that crazy offer and shocked me with the suggestion, I knew, somehow, that he was trying to give me a lifeline. Yes, it was wrong for him to ask for sex with a married woman, but somehow it was ok because he was so upfront with it. I needed money, he wanted me, why not make a trade? Not the normal kind of business deal, but to him it was obvious that he should ask me to do it.

John said, “Kim? Did you hear me?”

I kind of shook my head and rejoined him in the real world. “I’m sorry, John, I was just daydreaming. I didn’t want to listen in on a private conversation. What did you say to me?”

He put his hand on my arm, gave it a little affectionate squeeze and said, “I said that you look wonderful. Is that a new outfit?”

“Thank you, John, yes it’s new from Annie.” I was wearing a beige linen suit with tan pumps. The jacket buttoned up to just above my breasts, and since I wasn’t wearing a blouse, would have been immodest. So I added a navy blue patterned scarf that tied around my neck and tucked into the jacket, covering my chest. The matching skirt came to just above my knees, and was fairly snug across my hips. Tom did not approve of such an outfit because he thought it was too revealing. If he had his way, I would wear ankle length denim skirts and blouses that buttoned all the way up to my chin. He didn’t want anyone to know that I had a body under those clothes because it would just lead men to lust. I had to remind him that I had an image to maintain for John’s sake, and that I could be both modest and professional at the same time.

Tom also believes that women should not wear pants or makeup. I don’t wear pants out of respect for his beliefs, but I do wear a little makeup, just to even out my skin tones. Men have no idea what women do for them.

We pulled up to the valet parking at the airport and John got out of the car while the valet opened my door for me. John grabbed the bags out of the trunk and got his valet ticket, handing the man a tip. I stood up and straightened my skirt, and thanked the valet. I got my bag from John and we went inside. We had our boarding passes on our phones, and so we went straight to security.

Getting through security was relatively painless and we went off to find our gate. The good thing about John’s scheduling was that, by the time we got to the gate, they were ready to board the first class cabin. We got in line and we were soon in our seats on the plane.

“See? Plenty of time.”

“Yes, but what if we had hit traffic? What if there had been an accident? I like to put in some leeway for the just in case.”

“OK, OK. I’ll try and be better for Escort Adana next time. I know that you’re right, but that last 15 minutes made the difference between a deal and no deal. It happens.”

The flight attendant came by and asked if we wanted drinks. I asked for a diet Coke and John had coffee. She returned a little while later with our drinks, and John pulled out a contract to review during the flight. His forehead wrinkled, and I asked him what was wrong.

“Oh, I’m just trying to get a better understanding of the contract. But this isn’t my strong suit, so I have to trust that the attorneys have it handled.”

“Well, I’m a little concerned about the payment terms that they suggested. It seems to be very backloaded, and I’m wondering if that will cause issues with cash flow for the project. Have you talked to your accountants about that?”

His jaw dropped. “You READ contracts? And you know about cash flow? Who are you?”

I gave him my killer smile. “I told you that I’m more than a secretary, John. Did you even look at my resume?”

He shook his head, embarrassed, and I replied, “Then you hired yourself one smart secretary. I may be a secretary, but I did get my MBA a couple of years ago. It wasn’t from Harvard or some such place, but I worked my butt off to learn more about business. It’s just that the only job I could get was secretarial. But I do know my way around a contract.”

He laughed heartily, and people started staring at him. “Kim, you are an amazing woman. I must live right because I have found myself a treasure!” He started to hand me the contract, but I pushed it back. I said, “I brought my own copy, thanks, and I can show you my notes if you like.”

“Oh you did, did you? And when did you plan on telling about this? Were you going to let me get into the meeting tomorrow without saying anything?”

I smiled again. “Probably. It’s actually a pretty good document, so I would have felt comfortable with you signing it. I just think it can be a little better if we tweak it slightly.”

He reached out his hand to shake mine, and I took it. He shook my hand and said, “Congratulations, you have just earned yourself a promotion. How does VP of Operations sound?”

I beamed. “It sounds wonderful. Does that mean that I need to find you a new assistant? And do I get a raise?”

Chapter 3

We got out of the cab at the hotel in midtown Manhattan and went inside to check in. The front desk person welcomed us. “Mr. Pitney, welcome back. I trust that your trip was a good one?”

“Thank you, Fred, it was. The flight was smooth, but I also found a new executive for my team!”

“Well, that’s amazing. Congratulations.” He handed us the room keys and said, “You’re in Suite 1740. Shall I have someone bring your bags up?”

“No thanks, Fred, I can deal with them. Thanks for your help.”

“My pleasure, Mr. Pitney. Enjoy your stay.”

As we are walking to the elevator, I asked, “Do you know everyone? Even the front desk person at a hotel in New York?”

He blushed slightly and said, “Well, he’s not exactly front desk staff. He’s the General Manager and was just waiting for us to check in. They are very nice to me here.”

I just shook my head. There are always surprises with this man.

On the elevator, I got a text from Tom. I had told him about the promotion and the extra money, but his reply wasn’t as happy as I thought it would be. John asked, “Everything ok?”

“Tom just sent me a text and he doesn’t sound right. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Call him and talk to him. I’ll just go to my room so that you have some privacy.”

We went into the suite, and it was stunning. It wasn’t modern; the style was more classic, like a hotel that you think of from the old movies. White furniture with gold trim, etc. Not exactly my style, but it was really elegant. John said, “Which bedroom would you like? They are both the same, and it really doesn’t matter to me.”

I had dialed Tom and it was ringing, so I just pointed to the one at the left and made my way in there. John nodded and went to the other room.

Tom answered, and he was really fine. It turned out that he was excited for me, but I think he was realizing that I might have to be gone more and travel more, and I know he doesn’t like that. “Money isn’t everything, Kimmy, but it does mean that we can quit worrying about money. That will be nice.”

We talked for a while about little things, and I hung up after a few minutes. Kelsey had scheduled a college visit for next week, and my mom had a doctor’s appointment on Friday. I know that it seems like Tom is stuck in the middle ages, but he’s a good man and really does want the best for me. He just needs to move his ideas to this century.

I went out to the living room and John was sitting on the couch, watching CNN and reading some other documents. I sat down on the chair next to him, and he asked, “Everything ok?”

“Yes, it’s fine. He’s just worried about me being gone more. That’s all.”

“Well, you and I will have to be together on more trips, probably, but your days won’t change that much, I don’t think. I called Julie to process the paperwork, so your promotion is effective as of this morning. Congratulations.”

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

Here I am once again needing to interview for a PA, what is it with these men that they can’t stick a good position with a female boss. Do they feel emasculated, intimidated or brow beaten by a strong woman. I need my assistant to be ready for anything, anything that I might need him to do. I prefer male PAs because, well because I just do. He should be willing to do my bidding and be able to anticipate my needs.

I must admit though I love the interview process, I love to see him get hot under the collar while I grill him on his attributes. Maybe that’s why I dismiss them so often, I need the thrill of the interview. My last interview went so well, for me and him. He got the job.

Right from the moment he applied for the position I could feel my excitement building, we had exchanged emails and phone calls and I had cleared my diary to schedule the interview into my busy day.

He arrived at the specified time and as I was without a PA I had to greet him at the door myself. As usual I was dressed as any good female CEO should dress. Dark business suit with short skirt, I usually wear a short skirt or figure hugging pencil skirt, it makes me feel sexy as well as powerful, essential in my line of work. With my business suit I like to wear my Seville Row shirt, my how that accentuates my body, the buttons fastened to mid cleavage, yes it’s one of my favourite looks for the ‘office’.

Anyway I directed him to the interview room and sat him at my desk, it’s important during an interview to have the chairs positioned correctly, the interviewees chair should always be lower than mine, so I can look down on him, only perceptively lower, just a little trick I like to use.

So we sit and I take a look at my notes.

“Mr Lowly can you tell me why you feel you would make a good PA”

“Well Ms Carmel I am more than willing to attend your every needs, I am experienced in doing the bidding of a powerful woman and would relish in honouring you as my superior.

“And Mr Lowly,” I say, “in what way would you honour me.”

Its at this point I turned and looked him deeply in the eye, compelling him to hold my gaze. He does for a second then his eyes flicker and his gaze drops. Only to be met with my parted legs, my skirt has risen up towards my thighs, tantalisingly showing stocking tops. He drinks in the image and I see him shift slightly in the chair. I smile inwardly, a wicked thought enters my head, I lean back a touch and open my legs a little further, he is engrossed and staring at the spectacle before him.

I give him a moment and then *cough* ” Mr Lowly can I have your attention please. His face snaps back to mine and he squirms embarrassed and a red flush travels up his neck Adana Escort and over his face to end up in his hairline. I am amused and decide to play him further.

I cross my legs allowing my skirt to come to rest at the top of my thighs allowing a him a peek of my bare skin that is showing at the top of my stockings, then I swing my crossed leg back and forth, allowing my six inch heeled shoe to slip off the back of my foot, my toes barely holding it on. Back and forth, back and forth I gently swing my leg. I have slim ankles and toned calfs, and in my black sheer fully fashioned stockings my legs look shapely.

I turn back to my notes and continue with my interview questions.

“Where were we, ahh yes you were going to tell me how you will honour me.”

“But first Mr Lowly tell me a bit about yourself.”

“Well Ms C, I am very willing, and have plenty of experience in anticipating a woman’s needs.”

“My last position saw me giving myself completely to my superior. I knew exactly when she needed me to be at her side, or when she needed me right behind her. I have a knack of knowing where I should be at any given time,” “and what action I need to take to ensure she is comfortable.”

It’s at this point I slowly shift my gaze to my hanging shoe, then back to his eyes meaningfully. He gets the message immediately and attends to my foot, replacing the shoe back on my heel. His hands firmly holding my calf, he slips his hand along the silky stocking coming to rest at the crook of my knee, it feels nice, very nice especially as he gently rubs the sensitive area behind my knee, sending a shiver of pleasure through my body, delicious.

“Would you like me to give you a foot massage ma’am, my previous employer found a foot massage was very relieving after wearing such high heels.”

And with that he removed my shoe and expertly kneaded the soles of my feet and manipulated my toes, running his hand up and down my calf, I was fully aware that he had an uninterrupted view of my crotch.

“Excellent Mr Lowly, you seem to be the right kind of candidate I am looking for.”

I decide to show him around the office and the rest room, well my rest room, with the bed, the king size bed.

As we enter I point out where I like things and how I like them arranged, where my hangers are and where my shoes go. After all in his position as my personal assistant I expect him to get everything just right.

“Goodness me it’s warm in here,” I say “would you?” And turn my back to him so he can remove my jacket. When I turn back he has the full view of my cleavage which is attempting to burst out of my figure hugging blouse.

Once again his eyes are locked onto the Adana Escort Bayan sight before him, a small gasp of appreciation escapes his lips. He looks back to my eyes to find me staring deeply into his. It is then I take a step towards him, place my hand behind his head and draw his mouth towards mine. I lock on to him and kiss him passionately parting his lips to run my tongue around his lips and teeth. He responds enthusiastically his own tongue probing back.

He starts to undo my buttons and I help him. He pulls back when all are undone and looks at my ample breasts as they nestle in the expensive silky lingerie, creamy flesh against black satin. Soon we are discarding all clothing. I am standing, panting and aroused while he removes his own underwear, when he turns back to me he stops and takes in the sight before him.

Fully naked, my breast full and firm, waist and hips all in proportion and that dark patch of trimmed hair between my legs. He seems delighted to see this.

We approach each other once again, entwine and feel warm soft flesh against a hard manly torso.

We then fall onto the bed and begin to explore each other.

He mesmerised by my pubic hair, fascinated by its springy softness, he strokes and teases it for awhile before parting my lips and delving inside.

Rubbing gently and expertly finding the one spot that will have me moaning in pleasure.

I lay back and let myself feel every touch, every stroke, every ragged breath, because his face is so close, so intent I can feel his warm heavy breath.

I look down and our eyes lock, a deep, intense connection. A thrill shoots through me, he starts to make his way up my body, pecking, kissing, licking as he moves along inch by inch. Oh the shivers it gives me. Who is in charge now?

I decide it’s time to take control again and as he reaches my lips and we lock together once again, I take the opportunity while he is unbalanced on one elbow to flip him over on to his back, forcefully kissing him. I am on top now and pull back to look at him. His mouth is slightly open with a surprised ‘o’ . I smile a wicked smile and keep his gaze for a moment before attaching my mouth on his nipples, nipping, biting and teasing with my tongue. He groans with pleasure. I continue down his body, tracing with my tongue and lips. Eventually I reach my destination. He is squirming with anticipation, he knows what I am about to do, well he thinks he does.

I allow my warm breath to travel along his length, my lips so close they barely create a gap between his member and my soft mouth, but I don’t allow them to touch, then I take a deep breath and purse my lips as if I’m going to whistle, and blow Escort Adana hard onto the tip if his cock creating a pin prick of warm air, I move the flow up and down his shaft. Looking up, his eyes are closed and his lips are moving as he silently repeats the words ‘ oh god’.

I take hold of him in both hands and allow the warmth of them to create a cocoon of softness. I stay like this for some moments allowing the heat from my hands to build and create a comforting hollow for his manhood.

Reaching for the oil I allow my breasts to trace along his groin and abdomen, feeling his belly quiver as I do so.

I sit up with his thigh between my legs, I know he can feel my wetness on his skin as I grind myself into his firm strong thigh. I sit high so he can have a full view of my nakedness.

He is appreciating the view, I can tell. I may be a woman in my 50s but I have the body of a much younger woman, firm full breasts, neat waist and a toned and smooth stomach. I peek at him through my hair which has fallen over my eyes, I too am appreciating the view. He is tanned and toned, abdomen firm and flat with a trace of dark hair from his navel to… groin. I look to where my hands seem to have a will of there own, massaging, stroking and oiling his ever hardening maleness.

I continue with a firm slow pace, alternating one hand for the other, while gently grinding my wet pussy on his thigh keeping my thrusting in rhythm with my hands.

I can feel myself getting closer to my goal, feel the intensity gathering. Although I am still working intently on his cock my hands are working of there own violation, up, turn, off, up, turn, off, one hand after the other, barely tracing over the head of his penis, I am more focused on my own end.

Pressing myself harder I lean forward slightly to allow more pressure on my clit. Ahhh, yes, that brings a little wave of pleasure causing me to purse my lips and suck in sex filled air.

I work myself faster, harder, grinding myself in a circular motion. He’s watching me and I can see it is arousing him more and more. Which in turn ratchets up my arousal levels.

I can feel it now, approaching like a wave, ready to crash over me. Building, growing and consuming me in convulsions of heat and pleasurable shock waves. My legs lock around his thigh as I shudder and moan in ecstasy.

I hear over my own moans, a gasp and a cry from him and look through my curtain of hair. His head is arched back and his arms splayed across the pillows, hands clenched tightly and I then feel stickiness over my fingers I look and see, still pumping and oozing out, while his body convulsed and bucked, his creamy juices. Spreading over his stomach and chest.

I fell to his side, drained and completely satisfied, we lay together silently until our breathing became normal again. Our bodies sated and relaxed.

I eventually leaned up on my elbow and looked him in the eye. Well Mr Lowly, I’m pleased to tell you, you have got the job.

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

The Hyatt hotel, Melbourne

20:13 hrs – Friday

Matthew Crane studied the cordless phone in his hand with suspicion, as if it were an alien artifact and not just a few circuit boards wrapped in a hard plastic casing. It looked futuristic – sleek and evil – and he feared that once placed up to his ear it would suck him into some unimaginable void that he would never return from.

It wasn’t just the sleek black phone that unnerved him; it was the entire ultra-modern hotel suite that sent shivers down his spine and spirits dancing over his grave.

A lot of the furniture was truly beautiful. The velvet curtains were a rich red and the plush carpet a deep sea blue – all obviously expensive, yet thrown together it looked too polished, too perfect. That was the problem; there were no flaws in the entire room. There was no dust on the furniture or chipped paint on the walls, the cushions on the couch were perfectly aligned and the bed immaculately made.

Matt enjoyed the odd bouts of perfection as much as the next man, but without chaos, even just a smidgeon of it, life would be ultimately mundane.

Still hanging onto the cordless phone, he walked over to the couch, picked up all four dark blue cushions and threw them to the floor. Now on a mission to manifest his own chaos, he stalked into the bedroom, tore the covers away from the queen-sized bed and tossed them to the carpet with disgust, adding much needed disarray to the bedroom.

He chuckled with delight at his little anti-perfectionism protest, returned to the open phonebook lying on the antique desk and looked at the phone number again.

The number had already been memorised and his memory was faultless, a machine that stored vast amounts of data without a second thought. But he was a man who disliked mistakes and seldom made them. Some may typically call this behaviour perfectionism. Matthew Crane called it survival.

In his line of work if you make a mistake you might die, or worse, you go directly to jail without picking up your $200 for passing Go. Death and jail were not viable options for him, so the alternative was to be meticulous in every aspect of his work, and that meant training and maintaining his mind to memorise everything in minute detail, even in his everyday life.

He entered the appropriate numbers into the keypad and he began to wonder if he really wanted to do what he was about to do. The little angel on his left shoulder was telling him to take a nice hot bath, think about Sally and relieve the tension that way. The little guy on his right shoulder with the pitchfork was being a little more forthcoming and a lot less eloquent. He told Matt that masturbation was for geeks and losers, and that the bitch the angel referred to as Sally was out of the picture, gone for good, that’s all she wrote.

“Call the number and get us some pussy,” the little red dude ordered, immediately convincing Matt that it was definitely the best course of action available.

“Hello, Marquis Escort Agency, how may we service you?” said a surprisingly young female voice into his ear.

“Uh…hello there, this is actually my first time I’ve done this, so…” he trailed off. His face flushed red with embarrassment and he was glad the young girl couldn’t see him.

“Not a problem, Sir. First of all I need some of your details – name, address, age and your driver’s licence number.”

The situation left him momentarily stunned because it was so businesslike and not at all as sleazy as he’d imagined. It was as if they were discussing the sale of a shoe-cutting knife from an infomercial, and not the hiring of a high-class escort that was getting paid to fuck him.

He wasn’t at all afraid of giving out personal information to a business such as the Marquis Escort Agency. Not only did he lack having a girlfriend to find out about it, he also didn’t have any relatives or friends that word could get back to. He was alone. His chosen profession had left little room to form bonds and relationships.

Besides, he was operating under one of six false identities – Matthew Crane was not his real name.

He gave his false – yet they would survive a thorough police check – details to her and heard the tapping of a keyboard at the other end; obviously she was wearing a headset to allow free movent of her arms.

“Okay,” she said with a final louder tap of a key, probably the enter button. “Mr. Crane, our service only provides the girls for the night and not by the hour. We’re obliged to say that the girls are only there to escort you to dinner. Whatever they choose to do afterwards is by their own accord and in no way pertinent to the money that you pay them for their company.”

He gripped the phone with apprehension and momentarily thought he had crossed some wires. But then, almost hearing his brain click, he suddenly realised that they had to say that for legal reasons, for if they didn’t they were simply hiring out prostitutes which was against the law.

“Okay,” he said, Van Escort his heart rate easing back into a steadier rhythm.

“So, Mr. Crane, what kind of girls are you interested in?”

“Well…” he hesitated. He hadn’t considered this part.

“White, black, oriental?” she asked patiently.

“White.”

“How about hair colour?” she asked.

“I guess I’d like a blond thanks, but it doesn’t matter if she’s natural or not.”

“Okay, would you like to specify an age? We can’t guarantee that we’ll be able to suit your needs exactly, but we’ll get as close as possible for you.”

Matt was suddenly attacked by a deep sense of shame, which struck him as being ironic because in order to excel in his line of work the fewer the scruples you accrued increased your percentage of success. Morals and ethics had suddenly burst from his blind spot and sideswiped him. Christ, he was in the middle of ordering a girl as if she were a pizza, but this wasn’t a fucking supreme with extra pineapple, it was a real live girl that had feelings and people that probably cared about her. And here he was, on the phone, dialling her in like some takeout food so that he could get off, so that he could fuck her and get his kicks.

“Sir,” the woman pressed.

“Look, Ma’am…I’m sorry, but I think I’ve wasted your time. I really don’t feel too good about doing this.”

He heard a sigh from the other end and he wondered if he’d pissed her off. He felt like a shit for taking up her time, when he of all people was aware of the continual ticking of the clock and that that monotonous sound meant wasted money.

“Sweetie, you sound like a really nice guy,” she said, surprising him due to her thus-far utterly formal nature. “If you’re feeling lonely then one of our girls will keep you company. And if you decide you don’t want you-know-what, that’s entirely up to you.”

The devil on his right shoulder told him to go for it, to get the piece of ass and give it to her good. Surprisingly, the angel agreed with him but not in so many words; he simply told Matt that some company would do him good, especially that of the female persuasion.

“Maybe you’re right,” he agreed.

“Of course I am, honey. Now, how old would you like your companion to be?”

“Anywhere between eighteen and thirty would be fine by me.”

“Closer to eighteen or closer to thirty? C’mon, it’s okay if you like younger girls, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Closer to eighteen,” he admonished, his cheeks flushing red again. “And I was just wondering…uh, how much will it cost?”

“It’s $800 a night. But trust me, our girls are well worth the cost. We’re proud to say that we’re the best escort agency in Melbourne.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Thank you for being so patient with me.”

“I’m happy to be of service, Matthew. We’ll send her out as soon as we can for you. I hope you enjoy yourself, and don’t worry, I’ll make sure she’s a real sweetheart for you.”

Click-

And she was gone. Matt stared at the wall for a moment. He felt slightly sick to the stomach and wondered if he’d feel as guilty when she showed up. But then, as quick as Superman could stop a runaway train, his maleness kicked in and he began to pose a whole host of varying questions to himself. What would she look like? Would she find him attractive? Would he sleep with her and if he did, what would it feel like to have sex with a girl who he was paying to do so?

Deciding to spruce himself up before the escort arrived, Matt took a nice long shower and, feeling as horny as a teenager dating a girl who had a reputation of putting out, he had to constantly resist the urge to soap up his raging hardon and stroke himself into a frenzy.

After towelling himself dry, he slipped into an expensive suit and spent the next ten minutes trying to tie his tie correctly. His hands kept shaking as he thought about the girl that would be arriving shortly, and any guy can tell you that it’s hard enough to get the knot and length perfect on a tie if you’re not concentrating one hundred percent.

There was a sudden soft wrapping of knuckles against wood, a gentle double tap that made his eyes frantically search his own in the foggy reflection of the bathroom mirror.

Okay, he thought, be cool, be calm, and just act as collected and together as you do when you go to work.

Matt ran his left hand nervously through his damp hair and walked from the bathroom to the front door. He gripped the ice-cold metallic doorhandle, pulled back the safety chain and swung the door inward on squeaky hinges.

Ha! A flaw at last, he thought triumphantly.

Any pretence at all that he could remain cool and calm flew right out the window as he focused his eyes on the young lass standing at his doorstep. Every drop of saliva withdrew from his throat and retreated to the pit of his stomach, sending his mouth drier than a thousand-year-old parchment.

A cute young woman stood before him with her glossy lips partially open, Van Escort Bayan a smile painted on them and her eyes boldly meeting his own. She was gorgeous, undeniably, totally and utterly gorgeous. For any man to dismiss her as otherwise would either make him as blind as the proverbial bat or so damned stupid that the poor bastard didn’t deserve to live.

“Are you Matthew Crane?” she asked softly, her voice so low he could hardly hear her.

“Yes,” he replied thickly, unable to do anything but stand there and gaze at her.

Her soft, straight hair was honey-blond and terminated at her shoulders. It partially obscured the right side of her face in a perfect imitation of Veronica Lake, the elegant and beautiful actress from the classic era. Her eyes were a beautiful leaf-green, a pale pink lipstick had been lightly applied to her luscious lips and her skin was creamy in texture – framed perfectly by her lovely blond hair.

The generous curves of her body were wrapped in a tight black dress, which suited Matt fine because while he tried not to favour any particular body type – he tried not to discriminate – a girl that was rounded in all the right places was definitely a bonus.

The neckline of her dress showed enough cleavage to be sexy but not too much to be distasteful, and, the fabric came down far enough to show some leg, although not enough to look slutty.

She looked classy but naughty at the same time, and he desperately tried to slow his hammering heart as he continued to look over her face and body. Whatever differences they may have had in the past, both his good angel and his less-than-good devil companions both agreed unanimously on one fact: she was gorgeous and he should feel lucky to be in her presence.

After waiting a few moments in the hall, she smiled coyly at him and asked, “May I come inside? Unless you want to do me right out here in the hallway?”

“Uh…no, that’s okay. I’m sorry to be so rude, please come on in,” he said, ushering her through the door and locking it behind her.

When they reached the middle of the lounge room she stopped and turned to him. Her gaze was sultry and her sensuous mouth was tilted into a friendly smile. This girl was so scorching that Matt expected smoke to rise from her body or the dress to catch fire.

Realising that his tie was still clenched in his hand, he threw it on the coffee table, aware that he wouldn’t need it until they had properly introduced themselves.

There was little more than a foot between them and she didn’t hesitate in giving him a thorough looking over, starting from his feet and working her way up. When she focused her eyes on his bulging crotch her smile got wider, until finally she moved up his chest and back to his face, re-establishing direct eye contact.

What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, he thought absently.

Her smile did look genuine and it wasn’t only limited to her lips but also extended to her eyes, which sparkled with mischief. Perhaps she didn’t find what she saw too unappealing. If one believed in miracles, it might even be possible that she was attracted to him.

Animal attraction hadn’t been the source of his previous break-up. Sally had constantly flattered Matt by calling him her ‘own private spunk,’ and she had positively adored having sex with him. They’d been a great couple for eight glorious months, until one night he finally decided to confide in her and divulge his true profession. Minutes later she’d left his flat crying with a handkerchief pressed to her face, muttering that he wasn’t to contact her ever again.

And that’s all she wrote.

When the lovely young girl on the phone had told him that he could spend time innocently in the company of an escort, he’d actually tricked himself into believing that he would. For some reason his little angel friend on his left shoulder had fed him lies, possibly due to being threatened by his pitchfork-holding counterpart into encouraging him to continue the transaction.

After all, he was male and he did have hormones, raging ones by the feel of things downstairs. Even the pope would struggle to keep his thoughts clean in the vicinity of the sweet young woman standing in front of Matt.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Nikki,” she said. “And you’re Matthew. Is it okay if I call you Matt?”

“Matt is fine, I like that better than Matthew anyway. I hope I’m not speaking out of line here but is Nikki you real name?”

“Yup, I was born Nikita, but I prefer Nikki. Why, is your name really Matt?” she teased.

He couldn’t believe how soft her voice was in contrast to her bold gaze. It was so feminine and sweet. It hit just the right note and he found it as alluring as every other quality she possessed.

“Actually, no,” he replied truthfully, amazed at his honesty. She was the first person he’d told in years that Matthew Crane was not his real name. He hadn’t even told Sally his real name because she hadn’t given him the chance Escort Van to get that far.

“Do you want to tell me your real name? Just your first, you don’t have to tell me your last name. You don’t have to worry, I won’t tell a soul.”

His eyes narrowed and he tensed with paranoia. “Why do you want to know?” he asked, suddenly suspicious. Suspicion went part and parcel in his business.

With the grace of a feline, she slinked forward and slipped her delicate hands around his waist and rubbed her body against his. Her breasts squished against his chest and his erection became wedged painfully between their bodies. It felt slightly foolish having his hands hang limp at his sides, so he brought them around to the small of her back and felt smooth, bare flesh. He hadn’t even noticed that her dress was backless, which showed how preoccupied by her beauty he’d been.

“Why do you want to know?” he repeated, this time in a softer tone.

“My, my, you are a mysterious fellow, aren’t you?” she whispered, pressing her lips to his. He trembled in her arms. It had been four months since he’d held a woman, kissed a woman, and while she looked like a young girl she was definitely anything but.

“Do you want to know why I would like to know your name?”

“Yes, I would.”

“Because I like to say a guy’s name while he fucks me, and since we’re going to fuck each other pretty soon, I thought you’d like me to say your real name,” she breathed, then parted her lips and pushed her tongue into his mouth.

Matt kissed her back with quaking lips and a spinning head. It was like no other kiss he’d ever participated in. It was soft and wet, sensual yet with a touch of lust. Their tongues played together with a level of joy and excitement that could rival that of winning the national lottery, and, for Matt, merely being able to kiss this blond-haired, green-eyed girl would be worth forfeiting any fortune you could reap from a jackpot-winning lottery ticket. Kissing her was as priceless as Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa or Michelangelo’s fresco on the roof of the Sistine Chapel, sexier than living in Hugh Hefner’s Playboy mansion, and hotter than the blazes of hell. It was the tastiest, steamiest and most mind-numbing kiss he’d ever been given.

Maybe it was just his blind hope getting in the way, but he really thought that her low murmurs and gentle moans were that of a chemistry building between them and not, as he feared, Nikki simply doing her job.

Eventually, when their lips and tongues began to tire from their strenuous workout, they moved their heads back and looked at one another for a very long time. Silence eclipsed the room, time ceased to move forward. Their bodies were still pressed together, unmoving, conveying thoughts and feelings via looks and smiles instead of using bulky inadequate words that could only insult the wonderful kissing that had just taken place.

Eventually, like a pin penetrating a bubble, Nikki broke through the room’s auditory vacuum. “So…you’re not going to tell me your name?”

“I’d like to, I really would, but…”

“It’s okay,” she said, slipping from his grasp. “I understand, it’s water off a duck’s back.”

He felt a little guilty in not telling her his name. It couldn’t hurt; there was no possible way that the police could ever find him anyhow. So where was the harm?

Matt watched Nikki as she ambled nonchalantly around the room, experiencing great difficulty in tearing his eyes away from her nicely proportioned body. She periodically stopped on her travels to inspecting the hi-tech video equipment and sound system, to pat the exquisite three-seater leather couch with matching recliners, and to take a casual peek inside the bedroom.

From time to time she would flash him a sly look and give her ass a little shake, leaving no doubt in his mind that she knew he was removing her dress with his eyes.

“This place looks like it would cost a small fortune. You must be a pretty important person to be able to afford this,” she exclaimed as she sauntered back over to him.

“Hardly, I’m just a regular guy. I hate to disappoint you but I’m nothing special.”

“You look pretty special from where I’m standing,” she said, tilting her head. “So is what you do for a living as taboo as telling me your real name?”

“I’m afraid it is.”

“You’re quite the mystery, Matthew Crane, and I love mysteries. Most guys who live this lavishly can’t wait to tell me all about how they made their money and how important and special they are, but not you. Not you…”

“I’m not like most guys,” he countered.

“Well, I knew that as soon as I walked through the door. I’m good that way, very intuitive. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t just tell me that Matthew Crane was your real name and make up a job. Why didn’t you lie to me? It wasn’t as if you were in a position where you couldn’t.”

“Honestly…and yes, pun intended,” he said with a smile, “I don’t know why I told you the truth, or half-truth at least. I really don’t know.”

“Interesting,” she said softly, her green eyes suddenly clouding with thought. Nikki uttered that singular word so quietly that he wouldn’t have made it out had he not seen the movement of her lips.

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The rain sheeted down on the little red Ford Escort as it trundled on the inside lane of the M1 to Luton Airport. “Are we there yet, Dad?” said an excited eight year old boy.

“The man smiled and said: “Not yet, Charlie. We’ve only been going an hour, another half hour and we’ll be at the airport. But then you have an hour or so to wait and after that a couple of hours flying to Athens. Then you will be at your holiday.”

“I can’t hardly wait,” Charlie said. “Can you wait, Mum.” He added.

“Yes,” she said. “I can wait.”

The rain continued to thunder down as they approached the departure building. The drop off point was undercover; mother and son waited for dad to get their luggage from the boot. “You have everything, passport, money and tickets?” he said to his wife.

“Yes, everything, don’t fuss, Danny, please.”

“Ok, have a great time. You sure you wouldn’t like me to come in and have a cup of tea with you?”

“No. Best if you get off. It’s terrible weather and you have an early start in the morning.”

“True. Ok. Have a really great time come back better, really relaxed and make sure Charlie sees all Athens has to offer.” He bent and kissed her on the lips. Like kissing a lump of wood, he thought. Still, she hadn’t been well these last few weeks. Christ, I hope she comes back more like her old self. He tried to kiss her again but she’d moved away. Instead he kissed his son. “Look after mummy won’t you?” he said and ruffled the red hair.

He watched the pair until they disappeared into the building.

As he crawled into bed he wondered briefly when his work contract would end. It had been due to end two weeks ago but it was dragging on despite all concerned working every hour they could to get it finished. It had been a great six years but now with the end in sight he wanted it over.

It was dark when the aircraft bumped onto the runway of Athens international airport. “Oh, Mum, it’s hot isn’t it?” Charlie said as they trudged to the arrivals building.

“Yes it is but nothing to what it will be in the morning. Don’t forget I was here a few weeks ago so I know.”

They picked up their luggage from the carousel and as they did a man approached. “Charlie, this is George. He’s a friend he has come to take us to the hotel.” Shirley said. Her smile shone bright in her eyes.

George smiled as he gripped Shirley’s arm and took her suitcase. The three of them sat in the back of the taxi. Shirley in the middle; Charlie to her right. George stroked the inside of her burning left leg. Athens centre was only an hour away she could hardly sit still. Luckily Charlie slept most of the time. Shirley woke him as they approached the hotel. She signed in and George carried Charlie to the room. “I’ll give you half an hour,” George said. “God, I have missed you.”

“Sush,” Shirley said.

“I have arranged a room next to this one with a dividing door. We can go in there, Charlie will be fine.”

“I’ve missed you too.” She said as they clung to each other. He unfastened the buttons and her white blouse slipped off without fuss. She had already taken off her bra. He stroked her and he felt her nipples harden. He kissed each in turn. He pressed his hardness against her. His hand slipped between her belly and the belt of her trousers. He gently stroked her mound and a soft moan left her throat. He unfastened his own belt and his trousers dropped to his feet without help from either of them. He led her to the bed. They fell on it together and he pulled her trousers and panties down. She lay on her back by his side her dark red bushy pubic hair was almost the same colour as the hair on her head. He slid a finger along her clitoris, she moaned again and clung to him. He stroked and kissed her belly and licked the sweat between her breasts. Sucking on her rigid nipples, two fingers found their way into her hot wetness as his thumb pressed on her clit. Neither could wait any Van Escort longer and her legs were opened almost before he said: “Open your legs my darling.” He entered her and she raised her hips to meet his thrust. He kissed her throat and licked her face and eyes all the while driving deep into her. “Oh god,” she whispered and her body went rigid beneath him. Both of her hands pulled hard on his buttocks as he drove relentless into her. “Don’t leave me,” she said. She knew he had filled the condom as he withdrew from her. “Don’t leave me,” she said again.

“I have no intention of leaving you,” he said as he caressed her hot body and pressed his harder to her.

Over the next four hours their bodies pounded into each other sweat pulsating and mingling together. His hardness, her softness moulded as one. The sex was savage in its intensity. They spoke but neither could say what the other said. His English was poor and her Greek nonexistent. Their love was absolute. The sheets were wet with sweat as they rolled and twisted. It seemed like hours later when he said: “Time I went, Charlie should not know. Not yet. I will telephone later.” His last kiss was soft and swift.

When he had gone she looked in the mirror her lips and breasts were swollen and bruised and she knew the lips between her legs were just as swollen but she felt good and desire was still strong for him. She showered in her own room and crept into bed and prayed Charlie stayed asleep for another two or three hours.

Danny woke with a start, he sat up in bed. It was still dark but dawn wasn’t far away. She’d said wrong time of month for sex the night before. He’d had to be satisfied with her hand job but he sensed her heart wasn’t in it. Aw fuck it, stop thinking so bloody much. He looked at the clock he could just see it was 6.30. He crept out of bed then remembered he was alone. He showered then ate a breakfast of toast and a cup of tea. He was entering his place of work by eight.

“You going to the do tonight?” The receptionist said to him.

“Good morning, Sandra. Do! What do?”

“For Chris. It was his last day yesterday.”

“Where is it?”

“Just up the road. Anyway what do you care where? Shirley is in Greece. You’re a single man for ten days. Make the most of it.”

“Yeah, right.” He said.

“Casual, no suits or ties.” She reminded him.

“Yeah, right. Okay to wear a shirt is it?” He smiled to take the sting out of it.

Somehow he got through the day. He couldn’t shake it off and if you’d asked him he couldn’t have said what he couldn’t shake off. He went home, showered. He didn’t eat because he knew these things always provided a good buffet. Free, as was the booze. He walked to the hotel despite low clouds and a light rain. Better a little wet than driving with alcohol and he knew there would be lots of it.

The party was like every one he’d been too in the last six months. He wouldn’t get a leaving party because he would be one of the last to leave. But he would be getting six months pay if he stayed to the end and somehow no tax to pay. He didn’t know how they had worked that one out and he didn’t ask.

The girl he was holding was probably drunk come to think of it he was probable drunk. He knew it was late but how late he didn’t know or care. She smelt good. He kissed her lips again she tasted good. He kissed the valley between her breasts. Christ but they were large he could feel her swollen hard nipples through her blouse and his shirt. Despite the booze or maybe because of it he was aroused and she pressed closer to him. His hand slipped under her short skirt and he moved her knickers away from her slit and slid two fingers into her. She was so wet he felt as if he could insert all four fingers. She moaned and said: “No, don’t. “

“You’re right,” Danny said and withdrew his hand from between her legs. He wiped his fingers on the inside of her skirt and took her back Van Escort Bayan into the hotel. She was crying the tears streaming down her cheeks. The hotel manager said to Danny: “Do you want a room for an hour or so?”

“Get some sleep, I’ll come for you in a couple of hours.” He left as she whimpered into her pillow.

“I meant no don’t stop,” Sandra said to him.

“I’m married.”

“She wouldn’t have known you daft bugger.”

“No but I would.”

“And what do you think she is doing in Greece.”

“Not having sex that’s for sure. She is not well.”

“She went a few weeks ago, right?”

“Yeah, but she said she so enjoyed it so much she wanted to go for longer to see more and for Charlie to see it.”

“Yeah, right. You still believe in Father Christmas and the tooth fairy I suppose.”

“Well you think what you like. Anyway you’ll thank me in the morning.”

“I doubt that very much. You have got to be the most boring bloke I have ever met.”

Shirley and Charlie spent the morning wandering around Athens. Not doing much just mooching around and they returned to the hotel mid-afternoon. Charlie was still tired and she put him into the bed for an hour. George met her in the hotel foyer. “Not much we can do today and I’m working tonight. I have arranged with a friend to take Charlie with her kids for a day out tomorrow.. We can spend the day together just the two of us. We’ll take other days as they come. That ok with you?”

“Seems like a plan to me,” she said and her smile matched the sparkle in her eyes.

Charlie left with the woman and three children about the same age. “Have a nice day, Charlie and be a good boy.”

Charlie nodded and forgot about her.

It’s too hot to walk about,” Shirley said.

“I wasn’t thinking of walking about,” George said.

The room was dark and not overly hot. They stripped and clung to each other. Their sweat mingled. For the next few hours she was appalled and delighted in equal measure at her lust. They slept. She woke. He was asleep, he lay on his back and she smiled at the curled up penis between his legs. For a moment she hesitated then slowly and gently stroked it. It quivered and unfurled and she wondered again at how one moment it was soft the next hard and rigid. A deep moan rose from his belly. He rolled on top of her and she guided his cock between her legs. Her mouth opened to receive his probing tongue. His mouth grasped a ball bearing hard nipple and flicked it with his tongue a hand squeezed the other nipple tightly. He alternated between nipples first sucking then squeezing. He was hurting her but she clung to him as if she was afraid he might disappear. He plunged into her and her body rose to meet his thrusts. He asked her to kneel on the bed and she did. He approached from behind and positioned her for entry. She felt him enter her then heard the slap of his body on her buttocks. He pulled her back to him and she cried out in an agony of triumph as he roared into her and her juices flowed.

Not since the early days of her first and second marriage had she felt like this certainly before Charlie was born but she doubted it had been as filled with passion as this. George was a skilled and careful lover and her senses were heighted in a way she couldn’t measure. His body was scalding to her touch. The colours were brighter, smells more pungent, taste, everything was more more more. The room was full of the smell of sex. The voice inside her head was screaming with the sheer unadulterated joy of it all. They spoke of love she in English he in Greek and somehow it didn’t matter. He translated on paper from Greek to English she pressed her breasts onto his bare back as he wrote and she repeated the words to him in Greek. Her voice was husky as if there were lumps in her voice box.

It was near to the time when Charlie would be back. She forced herself from his side and showered. Charlie Escort Van arrived full of his day. He chattered away but her head was full of clutter and she nodded and spoke to Charlie as if she knew what she was talking about. She hoped he wouldn’t notice and he didn’t seem too.

“Would you like to go to a Greek wedding,” George said.

“Yes, when?”

“Today, it’s a few miles away, right out in the country.”

Charlie sat in the front with the driver. Shirley and George in the back, close. George slipped a hand under the waist of her skirt. He stroked her belly then through her pubic hair then touched her clitoris she couldn’t stop the moan and Charlie looked around and said: “You alright, mum?”

“Yes,” she said.

“You sound squeaky.”

She cleared her throat, “I’m alright, Charlie.”

The wedding was in full swing when they arrived and Charlie was soon introduced to other boys and girls of his age. George led Shirley up stairs and into a room. He locked the door pressed her against it and kissed her hard. He lifted her dress and pulled her panties down. She held her dress up and opened her legs as he studied nakedness. “God, I do love to look at you,” he said.

She knew he hadn’t had time to put on a condom but she’d lost all control and met his thrusts with her own. He rammed hard and fast into her. When he exploded she felt their juices flow together. Someone shouted his name. “Okay,” he shouted back and added something in Greek. He kissed her and said: “Come.”

She hastily pulled up her panties. And hoped their lovemaking would not be too obvious when they arrived in the main room.

Danny was approached by his boss. “Your wife called at the Athens office this morning and borrowed a hundred pounds. You can pay it back?”

Danny was surprised but said: “Yes of course, no problem.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing; seems to me you do have a problem.”

“No problem.”

“You surely don’t believe that crap about not seeing enough of Athens on the long weekend?”

“No problem.”

“You’re a daft bastard. I bet you right now she is getting her kit off and the Greek is thinking its Christmas, New Year and his birthday all wrapped in one. And Charlie will soon have a new dad.

“Oh thanks a lot. But I don’t think so.”

The days and nights drifted away as they watched, listened and constantly touched. At every opportunity they undressed and searched their bodies for pleasure. Before they knew it their time was up. They were in the adjoining room the night before departure. “Say goodbye now,” she said. “Don’t come to the airport I couldn’t stand it. Give me your love one last time.” The sweat cooled on their bodies as they lay exhausted from their intense efforts. “I will see you again. That’s a promise.”

She rose from the bed he grabbed and pulled her down kissed each breast. “Don’t leave it too long,” he said and touched her one last time between her legs.

She gave a great sigh, rose and left him.

Danny woke, the telephone was ringing. “Hello,” he said.

“It’s me, can you pick us up?”

“Where are you?”

“She told him.”

“Christ, how did you get there?”

“Someone gave us a lift. Can you pick us up or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, ok it will take me half, three quarter of an hour.” The clock said one thirty am. He put the phone down. Dressed and drove to the designated spot. Nobody spoke as he transferred her luggage to his car. Nobody spoke as he drove home. She rolled into bed and was softly snoring by the time he had put Charlie to bed. He kissed her lips and for a very brief moment she responded then the block of wood returned. He shrugged and lay beside her.

It was noon Danny had returned home from work. Shirley was filling the washing machine with ten days of dirty clothes. “Leave the damned clothes,” he said pulled her close and kissed her. “I do love you, you know.”

“Oh dear,” she said.

It startled him and there was something in her eyes he couldn’t work out. Without thought he said: “Is there someone else?”

She looked at him silently for a long moment then murmured: “Yes.”

His world exploded into a million pieces.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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To look upon Angela Hart was to see the Platonic ideal of Woman: she was in every way remarkable, a creature who seemed both corporeal and at the same time pure and eternal.

Angela was an imposing figure: tall, her chestnut hair rich and flowing; striking blue eyes, a warm look from which could lift up the most downtrodden of spirits. The loose elegant dresses she wore, modest yet stylish, intimated that beneath was a magnificent body. But no man could look upon Angela Hart with lust. The very idea would bring self-recrimination and a blush to the cheek.

She was just too wholesome. Imagine your mother, or the way you wish your mother had been. Or perhaps your fourth grade teacher, the woman who was the very embodiment of feminine integrity. Angela Hart was all this and more. She inspired you to smile at your neighbor and do a good deed for a total stranger.

Angela was the author of two best-selling books on family psychology and hostess of a cable TV show. Her life and her career were rooted firmly in God and Family. Where service to one ended and devotion to the other began, not even Angela could say.

Her own family was Norman Rockwell perfect: a wealthy husband who adored her; two teenage children, both honor students and revered by all as model youths.

Angela Hart was a staple on college lecture tours, at Girls State, and the Future Homemakers of America. Her message to young girls was clear: the path to happiness lies in sexual abstinence before marriage; in absolute loyalty to one’s husband afterwards.

Thousands of young women embraced the idea and took the pledge, inspired by the message but even more by the messenger. If being chaste can make me as happy as Angela Hart, they would think, that I must be.

No man admired the woman more than Martin Hessel. He had become aware of her fame some ten years ago as his own marriage had been falling apart. If only Lisa were more like Angela Hart, he would think. But Lisa was not. Headstrong and ambitious, she had moved out of their home in Guthrie, Oklahoma and gone to Dallas, where a career in interior design awaited her. Martin had remained a bachelor since that day. He was still looking for another Lisa or, better yet, an Angela Hart.

Martin was himself an exemplary citizen, an optometrist and now mayor of Guthrie. He was proud to be in attendance the night they honored Angela Hart as Oklahoma’s Woman of the Year. She glided onto the stage, a queen before her adoring subjects. In a warm melodious voice she gave her speech.

With a spotlight on her, not unlike a ray from the heavens, Angela described the great joy she had felt as a bride. I walked down that aisle in my pure white gown, she said, knowing that I had earned its purity through virtue. My chastity was a wedding gift to my beloved husband. Among the women, there was scarcely a dry eye in the house.

As for Martin, he gazed reverently at the podium, thinking, now here is someone worthy of a man’s devotion. What a woman she is!

Martin was of course eager to attend the reception honoring her after the ceremony. He joined the reception line, as nervous as a schoolboy as he neared Angela. And then it was his turn to bask in the warmth of her blue eyes and radiant smile; to feel her firm hand shaking his.

She hesitated a second, looking at him closely. “Hmm. Have we met before, Mr. Hessel? At Southern Methodist, perhaps?”

“I don’t think so, Ms Hart,” he laughed, “I’m sure I’d remember someone like you!” But yes, he thought. There is something oddly familiar about her, up close like this.

“Oh, it’ll come to me later!” the woman exclaimed. “I’m so happy that you could be here tonight!”

And with that he was moved on. Martin lingered for another half hour; then began to make his way to the hall entrance. Cruel fate placed Angela in his path. She had turned from one group of admirers and was making her way to another when again their eyes met.

“Ah, Mr. Hessel,” she smiled, touching her tongue to her lip, “I’m sure I’ve seen you before, I just don’t know where.”

Perhaps it was the tongue that did it. Martin shuddered, feeling as if a bucket of cold water had been dashed on him. He gaped at the woman, all thought and propriety driven from his head.

“Wait a minute,” he blurted. “Now I remember you! You’re Dena Mullins! You’re that young whore I once spent the night with in Lawton!”

The woman blanched; she looked intently at Martin. Her blue eyes grew large, then larger still. Her mouth dropped open; she Van Escort gasped. And just like that, Angela Hart fainted dead away.

Now the fates decided to spare the woman further insult. She fell against a passing city councilman, who grabbed her and gently lowered her to the floor as Martin staggered back, dumbfounded by the realization. By the thought that yes, I know this woman. I’ve known her in the biblical sense. Known her in the most intimate ways a man can know a woman.

*****

A few moments later Martin sat in a booth at the Downtowner Lounge, holding a vodka and tonic in his trembling hands. It isn’t possible, he thought. No way. But some part of him knew otherwise. She really is Dena Mullins. Has to be. I’d bet my house on it.

Now disillusion swept over him. Angela Hart was my ideal woman, he thought. But who is she really? Is she truly a fraud? Are she and all that she stands for just a charade?

He took a deep breath, recalling how he had stumbled out of the ballroom, ignored in the hubbub as everyone rushed to Angela Hart’s aid. Now looking around the bar, he thought, how long ago did I meet her? Over twenty years? Hard to believe.

It had all begun in a bar, worlds apart from this one. A small bar, a dump really, with the crack of pool balls hitting each other; Shelly West warbling ‘Jose Cuervo’ on the jukebox.

Martin had been nineteen, working that summer on a wheat harvesting crew. They’d begun in Texas, slowly moving north as the crop ripened and awaited the combine and the grain elevator. By late July they would reach the Dakotas, the northern limit of the winter wheat region.

But June meant Oklahoma, long hot days and idle nights. He and his friend Dustin were sharing a cheap motel room near Lawton as they worked the southwestern Oklahoma wheat fields: a world of pale blue sky and pale yellow wheat that stretched to the horizon.

He’d been sitting in the Horseshoe Bar full inviting mouth; a figure that would soon be stunning, but now had a coltish quality to it, a work in progress.

Martin spoke again. “Say, how old are you anyway?”

“Eighteen.”

“Like hell. You’re sixteen, tops.”

“What difference does it make?”

“About three years if I get arrested. They don’t much mind a guy doin’ a whore, but jailbait, well, that’s serious time.” He hesitated, then went on, “Show me some ID, girlie, or I’m kickin’ your cute little butt outta here.”

The girl angrily stuck out her tongue at him. Still glaring, she drew out a thin wallet and showed him her Oklahoma driver’s license.

Martin studied it. “I’ll be damned, you are eighteen, just barely. Dena Mullins. And you’re from Hollister, for Pete’s sake. Fresh off the farm. You’re no more a hooker than my Aunt Sally. What are you tryin’ t’ pull?”

Dena was still as nervous as a cat, exuding false bravado that Martin somehow found charming. “I didn’t come up here to talk! You want me or not?”

Grinning and shaking his head, Martin said, “Maybe you better show me what I’m gettin’ for my money.”

“You mean like strip down?”

“Uh huh.”

“I’ll show you part. Then you gotta lay some money on the nightstand over there, buster.”

“Okay, fine.”

“Turn around first.”

Martin laughed, now thoroughly enjoying the game. “Boy, some hooker you are! Too bashful to let a guy watch you undress! Say, how long you been in this line of work?”

“Long enough to show you a good time, cowboy. Now turn around!”

Martin did so, and after a few seconds Dena said, “Okay, you can look now.”

Nude from the waist up, she was still blushing intensely, holding her arms over her bosom. Taking a deep breath, she let them fall away, revealing full taut breasts. She had a farmer’s tan: her arms, neck and face were rich bronze, but elsewhere Dena’s skin was pure cream. Her nipples were buds of the fairest rose.

“Dang, girl,” Martin said quietly, his manhood stirring. “You got a lot more than I thought. You’re as pretty as a peach.”

Unable to suppress pride in her endowments, she said, “We got a deal?”

“Hell yes.” Martin quickly drew the three twenties and three fives from his jeans and laid them on the nightstand. He watched as Dena began to unbuckle her cowgirl belt.

“Do I gotta turn around again?”

“No, you’ve already seen th’ best part,” Dena replied. Having removed her boots, she unzipped the jeans, let them fall, and then slipped out of her thin cotton panties. She stood again eyeing him nervously, hands behind Van Escort Bayan her back. Her jutting pubic mound was covered in soft reddish down; Dena’s legs were slightly bowed, so slim that he could easily see space between her thighs. He saw puffy labia where they joined her slender torso.

“I think I’m lookin’ at the best part now,” Martin said in a low voice, swallowing hard. “I think maybe all of you is the best part, Dena.”

Trying to look seductive but unable to hide her nervousness, Dena approached him. “I gotta kiss you now, right?”

“Reckon so.” Martin drew her close and kissed her warmly as his hands moved down to clasp her firm butt, as small as a boy’s but ineffably smooth and round. He drank deeply of the girl, savoring her clean taste mixed with that of Juicy Fruit gum. Then they broke the embrace. She turned off lights, leaving only a ray of light from the bathroom, as Martin undressed.

He embraced Dena again; her body now felt almost feverish. Gently laying her on the bed, he moved to mount her. Her eyes were as big as saucers; Martin saw that she was trembling.

“You nervous?”

“Uh huh. See, I ain’t never done it before.”

Martin’s jaw dropped. “Whaat?”

“Well I’m sorry, but I ain’t!”

Martin collapsed back on the bed. “Aw man! First it turns out you’re not a real whore, and now you’re a virgin? Gimme a break!”

A faint sheen of sweat on her brow, Dena rose up over him, her full breasts pressed against his chest. “Look, a girl’s gotta start sometime! How hard can it be? I just lay here, right? Besides, you kiss pretty good. I can do it if you’ll be gentle.”

“You ain’t worth seventy five dollars, girlie.”

“You ain’t tried me yet!”

Shaking his head, Martin began to move his hands over the girl’s breasts, then slid them down to her pussy, finding dampness there. Soon his kisses became more demanding. Dena responded, and then he was on her, his cock head at her portal.

“Easy, easy!” she whispered as he sensed her warm wet flesh enclose him. Her pussy drew him deeper until he realized that he had sunk into the girl to the hilt.

He rose up slightly, seeing that Dena’s face was afire, her breath coming fast. “Oh jeez,” she gasped, “oh jeez!”

Martin began to slowly thrust back and forth, feeling Dena’s pussy become wetter and more welcoming as she instinctively began to match his thrusts. Long moments passed as he relished this most delightful of carnal pleasures. Feeling himself getting close, he withdrew, leaving only the cock head enclosed in her sheath, and began to kiss her cheeks, now salty with perspiration.

“Don’t stop!” she whispered. “It’s feelin’ real good!”

He was aware of Dena’s hands on his butt, pressing him back into her. The man and woman began to thrust against each other with mounting urgency, until Martin felt a scintillating release as his semen flooded into the girl.

Dena was now biting his shoulder, crying, “A little more, cowboy, just a little more! Oh yeesss! Aaah!” Her writhing reached a crescendo as Martin felt that final bolt of electricity surge through him, his eruption of semen now beginning to abate.

Martin rode the girl to her satisfaction, until her breathing began to slow and she released him, her arms falling back on the bed.

He felt the irresistible urge to kiss her; kiss her over and over everywhere. After his lips had nuzzled her breasts, he returned to her cheek, whispering, “I take it back, girl. You are worth seventy five. Maybe even a hundred.”

“Holy moly!” she murmured. “So that’s what all the fuss is about! Jeez louise!” Dena gazed at him, an angelic smile on her face. “Easiest money I ever made,” she giggled.

His cock still embedded in her, Martin said, “Now, tell me why you’re playin’ a hooker.”

She grinned, saying, “It was Crystal’s idea. She’s been my best friend through high school. We used to call each other a whore, you know, just teasing. Somewhere along the way we got to wondering what it would be like to be a prostitute. To let some stranger do you, no questions asked, anything he wants.”

“It was like a dare, you see, neither one of us willin’ to back down. And she set this up. For tonight I’m your whore, ‘n you can have me just like you would a whore. So far it’s been great.”

Martin withdrew from the girl, seeing in the faint gold light of the room that his cock was glistening but had no blood on it.

“If you were a virgin, how come you didn’t bleed?”

“I been ridin’ a horse Escort Van ever day since I was six years old. Think about it.”

With a playful smile, Martin gestured to his cock, saying, “Now you gotta lick it nice ‘n clean, y’know.”

“Yuck!” Dena said, a mow of distaste on her face. “Do I have to?”

“Uh huh. That’s what all whores do. Didn’t you know that?”

Dena touched his wet cock with her fingers. “Well, if you say so.”

Martin laughed. “You silly twerp, I’m just kiddin’. Boy, are you gullible!”

Dena angrily grabbed his testicles and began to squeeze. “Maybe I am, smartass, but you’re the one with his nuts in a vice!”

“Okay, okay, I apologize! And you’re a great hooker, the best!”

She released him, then grinned. “I might do that if you’d wash it off. Me ‘n Crystal been wonderin’ what that would be like too.”

Martin went to the bathroom, rinsed his cock in warm water, and returned. True to her word, Dena was waiting with her mouth. He reclined on the bed, and she began to kiss his semi-hard manhood, down to his testicles, then up to the head, alternating kisses with wet strokes of her tongue.

“Am I doin’ it right?”

Martin smiled. “Oh yeah. Just perfect.”

His cock began to swell again as she took him into her mouth and held him; then withdrew, then went down upon him again. On her knees astride Martin, Dena looked up, saying, “This ain’t so bad. It’s kinda fun.” At once she engulfed him again, slowly easing her lips down his shaft until he was resting against the back of her mouth.

Pausing now and then to give him a saucy look, the would-be whore brought Martin again to the brink with her mouth. Sensing that he was nearing climax, she looked up, saying, “I’ll take it in my mouth but I don’t want t’ swallow, okay?”

“I thought I was payin’ for this.”

“C’mon! Cut me some slack!”

“Okay, whatever you like,” he said. With that Dena got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a washcloth. With surprising dexterity she brought him to orgasm, both of them emitting moans as he felt his semen gush into her mouth.

The girl patiently held his cock in her mouth until he had finished; then, released thick milky fluid into the cloth. On impulse she began to squeeze and lick the cock, mixing and swallowing semen with her saliva. Now wiping her mouth, she rose up and sat back on her heels, saying, “Well, how was I?”

“Girl, you done tamed Little Willie. He’s gentle as a kitten now.” Glancing down to her pussy, the vivid pink labia slack and open, Martin said, “Y’know, two can play that game..”

Dena’s eyes grew wide. “I wonder how that feels. You want me to wash off first?”

“No, if you can stand the taste of come, reckon I can too.”

Her rose up from the waist, kissed the girl several times, and guided her down on the bed. Now Martin was bending over her and now he was touching his lips to her nether lips, savoring the rich pungent aroma of pussy mixed with semen.

“Easy, easy, that tickles!” Dena whispered, running her hand through his dark hair. Then, “Hey, ooh jeez that feels good! Ooh, man, yes!”

Closing his eyes, Martin sank his mouth onto her pussy, letting the juices wash over him, probing her depths with his tongue and then finding the girl’s now-swollen nub.

“Oh yeah!” she sighed, “that’s so much better than my hand! Omigod, I may come too!”

Soon she did. In a few moments the girl was bucking again, holding Martin’s face to her pussy as she moaned through a boisterous orgasm. Then, gasping for breath, she pulled him up to her and began to kiss him fiercely, the mix of come and juices from her sex now covering both their faces.

Martin looked at the girl, her eyes glowing in the dim light, her chin wet. The rest of her face was drenched with perspiration even into her hair. Still breathing hard, Dena smiled and said, “You smell like a sweaty horse.”

“Well, you’re no gardenia yourself. C’mon, let’s take a shower!” Now entirely at ease, the young man and woman showered, laughing playfully as each washed and rinsed off the other. Afterwards they made up the bed, and were soon under the covers nestled in each other’s arms again. Both fell into a deep and untroubled sleep.

Sometime in the night Martin was awakened by a strange sensation. Drifting up from slumber, he realized that his cock was in someone’s mouth. With a start he raised up to see Dena once again putting her tongue to good use.

Her face a silhouette, he heard, “I woke up, ‘n got to thinkin’ maybe Little Willie would like to play some more.”

“I believe so,” Martin replied. “He’s rarin’ to go.”

Now on her knees, Dena said, “How ’bout if I ride you cowgirl style? We ain’t tried that.”

“Can you stay on for eight seconds?”

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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It was two o’clock in the morning and my sleep was troubled. My dreams were clouded with distorted images, sexual tension that could not be relieved. For some reason my body was on fire and my mind floated restlessly in and out of a deep seated desire for the feel of a woman pressed against me. I finally gave up and decided the thing I needed was to exhaust my body, perhaps replacing the physical need for a woman with the fatigue that a good workout provides. Substituting one drug for another.

I got my gym clothes on- tight athletic supporter, grey, loose fitting shorts, and matching tank top. Not the most alluring of clothing, but I was not going to the gym to look good. Physical release is what I craved. The snugness of the athletic supporter actually felt somewhat erotic, firmly caressing the hardness of my still engorged manhood against my lower belly. I must somehow get these thoughts out of my mind, I said to myself.

I packed a clean set of clothing in my gym bag and set out. I was thankful that I chose to purchase a membership with a gym that stays open twenty-four-seven.

Ten minutes later I arrive at the gym. I was amazed that there were actually two other people there, in addition to the attendant; a sleepy looking guy who was watching TV on a miniature set he had apparently brought from home and barely acknowledged my entrance to the place. The other person was a vague presence back in the corner. The only sign of their existence was the distant occasion clang of barbells against each other.

I put my gear in the cubby and set out to find the treadmill that I like to use, in the approximate middle of the workout floor. The person in the corner of the gym appeared to be a woman, about thirty years old, just-below-the-should-length hair that was full of curls and shook in a mass as she went about her routine. She was apparently just getting started with her routine. I noticed her right away… medium height…thin build but with nice arms, strong shoulders and muscular legs. She glanced at me, barely acknowledging my presence and returned to her workout. I set the treadmill and went to work.

I caught glimpses of her in the mirror in front of me, and noticed that every so often, she would pause between workouts and look in my direction. My blood pressure was rising steadily with the intensity of my walking as my brow grew damp and the signs of my exertion began to show in a darkening line down the back of my shirt. My shoulders began to glisten and my mind began to wander. Through my accelerated breath and quickening pulse our eyes met every now and again when I would look in her direction. The tension that had formed in my muscles during my restless sleeping began to transform from frustration to a blind anticipation…

As I finished my work on the treadmill, I decided that I needed to move to the free-weights as well. She was beginning her chest workout on the incline bench and had difficulty in completing her first set, struggling with the last repetition. I moved over to the bench next to her where the dumbells are and selected the ones I needed to do my routine.

I said to her “It looks like you were having a little trouble there… would you like a spot?”

She replied “Sure… I could really use some help…” and smiled at me with a look that I only dared to think provocative. Up close she was stunning…a wonderful Italian face with deep blue eyes and ready smile with lips to make a man think of things he shouldn’t. “just let me know when you are ready.” I replied. ” I am ready now.” And she smiled that smile again.

She readied herself, arms outspread and hands on the bar. My eyes went instinctively Antalya Escort to her breasts, nipples noticeably erect. She noticed the path of my eyes but made no efforts to cover herself. I straddled her torso in order to more effectively assist her in the exercise. Now it was her turn…her eyes immediately were attracted to my shorts, lingering there and traveling up my torso to come eventually to rest in my eyes. I smiled sheepishly and said “You ready?” she nodded sharply in reply.

She moved the bar smoothly up and down several times to four, and her breathing became more sharp. She began breathing coarsly through pursed lips, her eyes fixed straight ahead of her, directly even with the waistband of my shorts. I could feel the air escaping her lips, and it caused my manhood to grow… I could feel her rythmic breathing with each and every thrust upward of the bar. I was visibly hard now, and her gaze remained steady. Upon her last struggling attempt to push the bar upward, she looked up and into my eyes again.

I helped her to return the bar to its rack, and she said “that was really hard.” I replied “Yeah, it is. But it looks like you handled it pretty well.” She just smiles and looked into my eyes again.

“Well” I said “Time for me to hit the showers.”

“Hey thanks for the spot. I really appreciate it.” she said

“No,” I replied “Thank you.” and I turned and walked towards the mens’ locker room. This certainly did not help the sexual tension that I had come here to escape, but I was not one to complain. After having retrieved my things from the cubby, I disrobed in the locker room, got my towel and went into the large tiled room that has six shower heads, three on each side wall. I unconsciously chose the one farthest from the doorway for privacy and turned on the hot water.

The warmth of the water was wonderful after the workout. I was intensely aroused after the scene with the young lady on the bench press, so I was still erect. I began to soap my body thoroughly and used the soap to lubricate as I stroked the length of my penis, sending shivers of intense pleasure through my body as my fingers touched that special spot just under the head. I was savoring the sensations of this and the hot water running down my back, oblivious to everything. My eyes closed, I reached up to get more soap, and began running it through my hair, washing my face and chest, my back now turned to the door.

As I was washing my body, in a sudden rush of sensation I felt one incredibly soft and talented hand form around the shaft of my penis, a body press against my back and a soft cooing voice say “hello there… don’t turn around… just relax…”. Her hand moved expertly up and down on me, touching me in just the perfect way, sending me quickly into ecstacy. I could feel her body pressing against my back, her workout clothes getting soaked in the process. Her hand continued its incredible ministrations, as her other hand began to massage my buttocks, allowing the soap to lubricate her movements, her fingers rubbing me in places that were bringing me close to the brink. Her hand moving faster and faster now, my mind reeling, my breath coming in short gasps, her fingers pausing every so slightly to massage the head of my erection. I began to moan, feeling the inevitability of my orgasm… her quickening her pace so perfectly, her other hand moving between my cheeks and pressing, pressing, pushing me into a teeth-numbing orgasm as my moans echo off of the tile walls, drowned out only by the sound of the steaming water as I come, my juices flowing freely into her hand and onto my belly.

She stands quietly behind me, still Antalya Escort Bayan with my hardness in her hand, gently caressing me. I reach behind and feel her, pull her closer to me, allowing the hot water to wash the stickiness from my torso.

I turn and face her. Without speaking, I pull her top off and hang it on the nob of the shower controls. I remove her bra, allowing the fleshy mounds of her breast freedom. I kneel before her and pull her shorts down to her ankles, then her panties. She is now as naked as I. I guide her so that the stream of the shower engulfs her, rinsing the sweat from her hair, her face, her body. Removing any trace of makeup and straightening her curly hair into a long trail running down between her shouldblades. Now from the back, get soap on my hands and begin to lather her body, beginning with her shoulders, her ribs, her lower back and her tummy. My hand glide smoothly over her skin, lubricated by the soap and the hot water. My hands move under her arms, massaging her muscles and move to her breasts. Her body feels incredible under my touch, cupping her breasts and massaging her nipples between my thumb and forefinger, sending shivers up her back causing her to press back against me.

I now turn off the shower and move her to the sauna that is connected to the men’s locker room. We have the entire place to ourselves, but the attendant could come in at any time, so there is some risk of getting caught. This fact only serves to intensify the electricity between us. I bring along a towel and we enter the sauna. The blast of 200 degree air as we close the door makes both our skin tingle and come alive. We feel every nerve ending, every synapse in our brains firing at maximum capacity.

I spread the towel over the upper bench and she sits, facing me, legs spread slightly. I look at her and take her in, my eyes roving over every inch of her. Her dark, erect nipples, her knees and beyond the darkness of her womanhood. I kneel on the lower bench in front of her, between her knees and gently part them. “It’s my turn now.” I say, as I move myself towards her and she leans back, her head and upper back supported by the smooth wood wall. The wood is hot beneath me and my hands burn when I support myself, but this increases the sensuality of the moment somehow. I begin to kiss her upper thigh and trace my way down to her calf, tasting the water from the shower, already beginning to turn to sweat.

She takes my head in her hands, and pulls me towards her. We kiss now for the first time, our mouths meeting and tongues eagerly search for one another, tasting the other in an electric sensation. My mouth moves downward now, to her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder. She is becoming more aroused now, moaning lightly and pushing gently down on my shoulders, pushing me to where she wants me to go. My mouth finds the outer curve of her breast, biting lightly, making a trail of nibbles, following a circular pattern and eventually centering on her nipple. I suck harder as she moans her approval. My hands now supported on each side of her hip, my mouth finding her tummy, her bellybutton, pausing there to lick the growing sweat. My mouth moving southward now to the line of her pubic hair, kissing and leaving wet trails on the skin of her lower belly, the bone of her hip, moving ever downward.

I repositioned myself so that I could access her more completely, kneeling in front of her, her thighs on my shoulders, my hands on her waist. I bend her legs upward so that they are almost touching her breasts. I lick the insides and undersides of her thighs, moving in slow circles, taking time to make sure that every inch Escort Antalya is covered in nibbles, kisses, licks both light and full. My tongue moves in long movements from her nether regions to the center of her bliss, a moan escaping her lips with each pass of my tongue. He ankles come together on the center of my back as she pulls my mouth deeper into her with both her hands on my head and her feet. Her breath quickens, and I can taste the flow of her juices on my tongue, the smell sending me into an intoxication that only this experience can provide. He belly begins to quiver and her legs move inward and outward, her hand moves to her own hair. I look up to see her head turned slightly, lips parted, eyes closed, she whispers a moan “oooohhh… I am coming…please lick me deeper, oh please don’t stop… I…am…coming…” and with this her hips buck forward against my mouth and I concentrate on licking her clit rapidly with the tip of my tongue and she lets one a last, low moan, trying in vain to stifle her echoing moans…

She pulls me up to her and kisses me deeply, greedily tasting her juices on my lips, licking my mouth like a popsicle. We look intensely into each others eyes, and I take her hand. We stand together and wrap our arms around each other. The sensation of her breasts against my chest and my hardness pressed against the firm softness of her belly in heady.

We kiss again, feeling as though every square inch of our flesh is touching the other. She turns and kneels on the bench, the heat now taking its toll on us. I am beginning to feel dizzy with the heat, but not wanting to stop, savoring the sensation again. She bends, placing her hands on the upper bench in front of her and thrusts her beautiful rear end towards me. “Now. Take me NOW.” I place a hand on each of her buttock, and kiss her, licking full from her glistening outer lips to the dark crevice of her nether region, sending shivers through her and eliciting a loud moan.

“NOW, I said NOW!”

Not one to deny a woman her pleasure, I move my self behind her. I rub the head of my engorged hardness over her rearend, pushing slightly, then sliding downward to her waiting wetness. Pushing forward only an inch, and moving back out. Pushing in again another, then pulling to out nearly to the point of withdrawal, but not quite. She pushes hard back against me, sliding against the entire length of me, and we both moan in deep satisfaction. We begin to move together in unison, her thrusts meeting mine. She raises her body even with mine, reaching over her shoulder to pull my mouth to her neck. I find the hard muscle of her neck, biting lightly. I then find her earlobe, and gently nibble there, still moving in rhythm with her backward thrusts. She leans down again, now quickening her movements in earnest.

A long gutteral moan escapes her lips her body begins to shake again, pushing backward again with a force that nearly causes me to ball backward. I have her hips firmly in my hands now and push myself forcefully into her. Our pace quickens to a frenzy. My head spins with the heat of the sauna and my eyes begin to dim as I feel the rush and inevitable pulsing of my cock in side of her. Her voice raises now, and our bodies become a hot, wet blur of simultaneous movement. My body is out of my control now, as hers has become out of her control. I push myself deeply inside of her and feel her contract around me. My mind bursts into a thousand colors of light as I empty my come deep inside her womb and she lets out a stifled scream as she comes at the same time.

As I stand there, still inside her, holding onto her, I wonder if I am going to lose consciousness. She contracts around me again and the sensation is incredible, causing the momentary blackness to recede. I pull out of her causing another low gutteral moan.

We pull apart and look at each other again. We both say, simultaneously “I am SO thirsty!” and we laugh together.

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Alfredo had promised her that the gondola ride would be the most romantic experience of her life and he had been right. Rosalyn listened to the singing of the Gondolier as she straightened out her skirt. He had been singing (opera, she supposed) from the very start. Not even a pause as she and Alfredo had made love. To be sure, his singing had gotten louder as they achieved climax. That was the only acknowledgement he had made toward the activity going on (quite literally) right under his nose.

Rosalyn looked over to Alfredo only to discover that he had lain back and fallen asleep. Oh well, she thought. Men are men and apparently, having gotten from Rosalyn what HE wanted, HE, apparently felt no reason to stay awake. So much for romance. Then she chided herself. She was in a gondola, plying its way through the canals of Venice. The Gondolier was singing beautifully. She looked around herself and thought that it really was quite romantic.

She looked up at the singing Gondolier and smiled toward him, brushing a stray hair off of her face. He’s quite handsome, she thought, and smiled again. She repositioned herself, stretching out her legs. Antalya Escort This brought her closer to the singing Gondolier. She again looked up at him and smiled. Again she brushed a stray hair off of her face. On a whim she reached out and placed her hand on the mans crotch. He did not stop singing. She felt a bulge through the fabric of his pants and she thought that the bulge pressed out in response to her touch. She looked down at her date. Alfredo was sleeping soundly.

She turned back to the Gondolier. She looked up at him and licked her lips as she unbuttoned the fly of his trousers. He continued to sing. She reached into his pants and pulled out his semi-erect cock. He kept singing. She caressed the cock and was pleased with the effect her touch had on it. Again she licked her lips and then she licked the big cock-head before her. The Gondolier continued to sing. She let her tongue wander along the Gondolier’s long thick cock. As she licked his cock she compared it with her memory of the cock that minutes ago had been in her pussy. Poor Alfredo, she thought, he really doesn’t compare favorably at all.

Rosalyn again Antalya Escort Bayan reached through the fly of the Gondoliers trousers. This time she got hold of his balls and pulled them out past the fabric of the pants. Her tongue caressed his balls, her hand gripping his hard cock. The Gondolier sang. She wrapped her mouth around his balls, she squeezed and stroked and pulled his cock and the Gondolier sang.

Now she fingered his balls as she again licked the length and girth of his large cock. Then she placed tender kisses up and down his cock. She again pressed her lips to the head of his cock. He kept singing. Her lips parted and Rosalyn took his cock-head into her mouth. She let more and more of his cock slide into her mouth until his big cock-head felt like it was half way down her throat and her nose was buried in his thick pubic hair.

Rosalyn began fucking the Gondolier’s cock with her mouth. As she did so she reached down, pulled her skirt up and began fingering herself.

As Rosalyn fucked the Gondolier’s cock with her mouth he continued to sing. As his cock-head would slide toward the back of her mouth Escort Antalya he would sing deeply. As his cock-head would slide out toward her lips his voice went higher.

Rosalyn’s head bobbed forward and back, his cock sliding in and out of her mouth. The Gondolier kept singing. Suddenly he let out one long sustained note. As he did so his cock twitched, once, twice, and then his cum was spurting into Rosalyn’s mouth .

She swallowed much of it. Some dripped down her chin and fell into her cleavage. She licked the last of the cum off of his cock, put it back in place and buttoned his trousers back up. Then she sat back, reached down, and with one hand she slid a finger in and out of her pussy, with the other hand she vigorously rubbed her clit. In only moments she was climaxing. The Gondolier, anticipating the moment, increased the volume of his song to cover her own passionate outcry.

A little while later Rosalyn awoke Alfredo. “Come Alfredo, the ride has ended,” she said.

As they departed the gondola Alfredo paid the Gondolier. He then looked on puzzled as Rosalyn turned to the Gondolier and said “Thank you so much for the ride and the beautiful singing.” She then reached up, pulled his face down to hers and kissed him.

She then stepped away , took Alfredo by the arm and leading him away said “You were so right Alfredo, the gondola ride was the most romantic experience of my life.”

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(Everybody is eighteen here, okay? Enjoy. Google a ‘girl in the mirror’ picture before you read this. Imagine what she’s thinking. See if you picked the right one after you read the story.)

*

I watch her, the girl in the mirror, as she watches me.

I wrinkle my forehead. I think, “I do not mind this problem of body image so much as I mind the idea that I, as a woman, am supposed to be happy all the time.”

She agrees. Her forehead is wrinkled, too.

Hey, I know we’re pretty, I’ve been told that over and over, since I was just a little girl. She smiles, remembering.

I smile back.

I take her picture, careful to cut it off at our chins. This is a body shot.

I do not think I am sexy.

I think the top is too slender, the boobs ridiculously small.

I think the bottom is too fat, the legs too heavy.

I’m glad my feet are small. I have lots of shoes at every store that fit.

Despite all the limitations, I have a boyfriend, somehow.

He finds me beautiful, or at least, that’s what he tells me.

I’d rather he said that I was interesting.

I mean, he’s hot, I admit I think so, but he’s so interesting, too.

Why does he have such a hard time talking when we are close, when we are alone together?

Why does he always have to _touch_ me?

Don’t get me wrong, I like him to touch me, I just…

I just wish he would talk to me, a lot, first.

I wish he would explain what he likes about me, so I could tell…

So I could tell if he likes me as much as I like him.

If he could do that, well,

He could do anything he wants.

I’ll never tell him that.

The girl in the mirror asks, or, I can tell she’s thinking, “Anything?”

I’ll have to think about that.

It’s so hard!

(She giggles.) That word.

(I giggle.) It is really, really hard.

We both laugh together. She’s like my best and worst friend, ever.

I’m going to get a water soluble marker and paint all the parts he’s kissed so far.

Wouldn’t you like to see Antalya Escort _that_ picture? Sorry –

It’s just for me and the girl in the mirror.

I’ll tell you this much – He has kissed my lips, my cheeks, and one ear.

He has kissed my neck on both sides, and my shoulders.

While he was doing that, he reached under my bra and touched one of my nipples.

Not both.

I won’t tell you which one, but me and the girl in the mirror, we know which one.

I won’t tell you what he wanted to do, but I let him kiss my belly button, instead.

That would be marked.

He wasn’t disappointed I wouldn’t let him reach beneath my skirt because he made me, I mean, I let him make me take his thing out and rub it with my hand.

I learned he would kiss my belly button really, really good if I rubbed his thing just the right way.

He doesn’t know it, but I’ll always remember how to do it. The right way, I mean.

He was really proud of his progress that night. I made him promise not to tell anyone.

I told the girl in the mirror when I got home. We watched each other as we repeated each touch, each kiss, visiting each place so that we would always remember.

I don’t know why it’s important to remember. I think the girl in the mirror knows.

On our next date, he gave me a bracelet. It was silver, with a silver heart and a small blue stone. I put it on and it was so lovely.

It was the first time that I kissed him, first.

I think I cried, just a little, and he wiped my tears with his finger, so gently.

So sweet.

“What’s this for?” I asked.

He looked hurt. Maybe I didn’t say my question right.

I kissed him, again, a quick peck on the cheek, next to his lips, and told him not to be unhappy, that I was so happy with his gift and no one had ever given me anything like that before, but I needed him to tell me what he was thinking, when he bought it.

He looked so confused!

He thought a minute, and said, “I just wanted you to have something from me that Antalya Escort Bayan you could look at when we’re not together. I mean, …”

“Hush,” I said, “Now is the time to kiss me like you really, really mean it.”

He did.

That kiss lasted, well, I don’t know how long.

I think we changed clothes somewhere in the middle.

That doesn’t sound right.

We didn’t have sex or anything, not that time.

It was just a really, really long kiss.

I think our lips would have to get married after that kiss. We really knew how to kiss after that. Our kisses, well, I’d enter them in the Olympics if there was such a thing.

I love kissing him.

That night, I let him put his hand under my skirt. I wouldn’t touch his thing but I told him he could touch me.

There.

Under my panties.

He was so excited, he was shaking all over, at least his hands were shaking. He got halfway up my thigh and I pressed his hand against my leg so he’d stop trembling.

He did.

His hands felt so warm on my skin. It just felt right for him to touch me.

I worried that he’d find me kind of gross, there.

He didn’t.

He seemed to like it. He tickled me and rubbed me, watching my eyes so he could see if I liked it or not.

I liked it.

I said, “Kiss me while you touch me, okay?”

He kissed me and rubbed his fingers against my bottom. I had to help him find just the right spot and to rub it just the right way.

Both our hands were under my skirt by this time.

He did pretty good by the time I was through.

I bit his lip, though, when I … finished.

He thought he had hurt me.

“No,” I said, “You did good.”

We kissed a quick kiss and looked at each other.

Something had changed.

He wanted me to rub him, afterward, but I wouldn’t. I knew it was evil, but I told him that I was mad that he asked me. He started apologizing and I laughed.

“NO means NO,” I said, “But you have to take it out and rub it while I watch.”

He Escort Antalya almost broke his zipper he was in such a hurry. He had a hard time getting it free of his underpants, so I told him, “Silly, undo your belt and pull you pants down and pull your underwear down.”

He did as I said. I felt so bad, not bad, I mean, I felt so evil. He was so easy once it got hard. His thing, I mean.

He started rubbing it, really fast.

“NO,” I said, “Rub it slow. I want to watch.”

He rubbed it slower. It was like he was my slave, doing just what I wanted.

It was so wet all over. Up and down, his hand wobbling he was so excited. He was watching my face as he did it.

“It’s so big. So big and hard.” I admit, I said this kind of slow and sexy.

I am so mean.

He rubbed it faster like he couldn’t stop, even though I’d told him not to.

“Do you want to kiss my breasts?” I asked, innocently.

That ended the experiment.

I had to check myself all over before he dropped me off. I wanted to be sure no one in the dorm could tell what we had done. Evidence. Forensics. DNA.

I hope he checked his car inside just as carefully.

The girl in the mirror smiled slyly at me that night. I think she liked it that I had been assertive in my physical relationship with my boyfriend. I think she was excited that we were exploring modes of expression, like in psychology class.

She had on a bracelet just like mine.

We agreed we would never take it off, but I did when I went to bed. I stared at it on the bedside table before I went to sleep.

He called me just as I was about to drift off. I felt so sleepy.

“I love you,” he said.

I let a long silence pass by.

“I like you a lot,” I said, “But I’m not ready to tell you how I feel, yet.”

“Can we go out tomorrow night?”

He didn’t mean ‘out’, he meant ‘in’. What an ogre. He was probably touching himself while we were talking. Yuck.

“I have to go shopping. Call me after lunch.”

“What are you shopping for?”

Nosy.

“I have to buy you a present.” I hung up, quick, and turned the phone off.

I was awake, now, so I got up, took off my nightgown, and stood before the mirror.

The girl in the mirror winked at me. I wonder if … don’t say it.

I winked back.

Bedtime.

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My exhibitionist experience at a nude beach ignited a collection of intense erotic fantasies, the most vivid being to make love on a deserted beach. Despite its cliché nature, my husband needed very little persuading to help me live out my yearning. Fortunately, at that time we were living in a country virtually ringed by beaches, so we were confident that we’d find a private strand of sand for our little adventure. Maps, population densities, and weather forecasts soon became constant but welcomed topics. We also discussed timing, realising that a weekday would be best for our purpose.

With our plans laid, we picked a day. The weather held, so we prepared for our outing that morning, beginning with a phone call to our respective workplaces to report illness and regrets. We packed our car with a blanket, towels, beach umbrella, books, and a cooler of food and drink; we intended to stay the entire day. A swimsuit each was also included in case we failed to find a private enough beach. We set out early, around 8 a.m., in hope and anticipation. The drive itself was uneventful. Conversation was muted, with both of us lost in our own thoughts.

The general location we chose was about a 90-minute drive, too far to scout for a specific spot. We were to rely on chance. In the event of failure, we’d console ourselves with at least a pleasant drive in the country and some sedate tanning on a public beach. The area we picked was on a sparsely populated peninsula, with cliffs on its west coast. The plan was to descend the cliffs and hopefully find an isolated stretch of sand.

Eventually, we arrived at a promising area and parked the car. After a brief look in the woods, we found a trail leading to the cliff’s edge, so we returned to our vehicle to collect our belongings. In addition to our backpacks, I carried the umbrella, and he the heavier cooler. So the two of us trundled down the path and soon came to a set of wooden stairs that descended the cliff and deposited us onto the seashore.

The beach wasn’t crowded, but we needed an expanse of sand with no one on it but ourselves. Although the cooler was heavy, my husband suggested that we head along the shore to the left, toward the visible headland. At the outcrop, we scrambled over rocks to find a deserted cove of sand. Instead of stopping, he wanted to keep going to see what was beyond the next jut of land. I didn’t protest, as I wanted to be as far away from the other beach-goers as possible. So we traversed to yet another headland, hoping that beyond it lay our beach.

Luck was on our side, presenting us with a beach that we thought existed only in our minds. In front of us lay a wide, long, empty stretch of sand that was protected on all sides. For my own peace of mind, we went to the far end of the beach. If someone were to stray onto our private cove, we’d have enough time to dress and feign innocence.

It was hard to believe that I was there, a place previously visited only in my imagination. With sensual anticipation, we set up our love nest, spreading the blanket, opening the umbrella, and shedding our clothes. Contrary to what I expected, there was no hesitation on my part; I began a leisurely carnal quest that lasted the whole day.

We stood facing each other, naked, and began with soft kisses, our tongues darting back and forth. His hands reached for my breasts, cupping them and tugging at my nipples. The delightful pulls were directly sensed by my pubic region, initiating a flood that remained between my legs for the rest of the day. Instinctively, his hands began a slow tour to my crotch, detouring to squeeze my buttocks and pull me next to his erection, which I squirmed against with pleasure.

Finally, after an agonising amount of time, his hand found my vulva. I braced myself against his chest, for the sensations that washed through çeşme escort me came close to knocking me over. I recovered and found myself standing with my feet wider apart than before. With one of his fingers, he began a stroking motion that parted my labia and ran along the length of my lips without entering me, pausing periodically on my clitoris. I shuddered as he did this and gingerly bit down on his shoulder as I held him. Soon, random downward strokes entered me, and eventually they penetrated me with a luxurious consistency. I abandoned any pretence of modesty and lifted a foot onto his knee, splaying my elevated leg to the side to open myself and allow his probing to go deeper. My hands were around his neck as I stood leaning backwards, balanced with one foot on the ground, all while his fingers explored my opening.

The position, while enchanting, was tiring, so I released him and lay on the blanket on my back with my knees to my chest and apart, playing with my swollen petals and entrance. My impish behaviour excited him, so he stroked himself as he watched me. But before long, his resistance broke, and he lowered his face into my slit—a misnomer, for it had blossomed into an open, edible flower. His tongue played on my clit, but mostly he sucked on it while his chin pushed apart my lips and tempted my entrance. The sensations steadily drove me to ecstasy and caused me to thrust my pelvis into his face and spread myself even wider with my hands. In turn, he filled me with his fingers, pumping at my cavity, while continuing the suction on my clitoris.

The heavenly action of his fingers stretched me, making my entrance wide and pliant. He angled me so that the sun could shine and beat into my insides. With the sun’s spotlight, he’d peer into my opening and then bury his face in me, only to lift his head—his chin and mouth shining from my wetness—to stare into my cavity again, then resume his greedy consumption. He varied from this cycle by mounting and penetrating me, alternately sucking at my puckered nipples or kissing me as I bucked beneath him, only to slide back down to renew his detailed examination and tasting of my vulva. At last, my orgasm came with a rush. I arched my back as tremors reverberated throughout me and left my legs open to absorb some more fulfilling strokes from his fingers, until, finally, the sensations were too much to take.

I asked him if we were really there, on the beach, enjoying ourselves so freely. He answered with a long kiss. We were energised to a high degree, requiring only modest amounts of rest before one of us would spur the other. Every act, no matter how innocuous, became a celebration of our bodies, done to arouse the other, creating a rising spiral of erotic energy.

In the open air with the sun as voyeur, we lost ourselves in each other: I rode him while on my knees yet other times while squatting, the latter spreading me wide and providing him with a view of his intrusion into my labia. When I squeezed his erection with my pelvic muscles, I could feel it twitch and convulse inside of me. I nipped and pulled at my breasts as I repeatedly impaled myself on his cock. With difficulty, I’d remove myself from him, move up to his face, and grind myself into his nose, mouth, and chin, relishing his suction on my clitoris. I sucked on his erection, hard yet warm, taking him as deep as I could, milking him with my mouth to a shuddering climax and lustily swallowing every drop he expelled. He filled and stretched my core as I opened myself and urged him to ejaculate into my depths. Under the glorious sun he watched me as I deftly masturbated to an orgasm. I craved his erection, rubbing it all over my body and face, and coaxed him to spray his semen over my chest and rub the fluid into my breasts, impregnating them with manisa escort his scent.

Time passed with our lovemaking, so we decided to have some food. The lunch that I’d packed included some meats, cheeses, and fruit—specifically, strawberries and pears. Famished from our lovemaking, we ate the meats and cheese with gusto, rested, and slaked our thirst with a cool, crisp, white wine. My legs were casually spread as I sat on the blanket, my opening visible and still vibrating from our last round of sex. My swollen labia attracted his gaze, so, wordlessly, I positioned myself to allow him a more explicit view. I watched him work in silence, slicing the pears into wedges with great deliberation. His next move caught me pleasantly by surprise.

Carefully, pieces of fruit were placed into my cavity, withdrawn, sometimes reinserted, and eaten, both of us feeding each other the ripe slices that we coated with my juices. We’d then kiss and exchange the fruit between our mouths. I was transfixed watching each morsel enter and disappear between my labia, only to see my glossy lips lengthen, sucked outwards by the removal of the now shiny fruit. Each successive penetration by a strawberry or pear wedge resulted in yet a higher lift of my pelvis and a further spreading of my legs. I ached to baste every portion and revelled in the subtle sensations stirring in my vagina. We ate slowly, savouring every sinful insertion of fruit.

We took turns, using each other as a platter with which to consume our food. He’d lay me on my back, marinate a morsel between my lips, and place the food on my breasts, nibbling them along with the dampened fruit. Each touch of his lips on my nipples sent currents shooting to my pelvis, further augmenting my wetness. He’d then slide to my opening and drink deeply, lapping and poking between my lips and teasing my clit; sometimes he’d deposit another piece of fruit to consume directly from my slit. In return, I’d immerse a slice into my opening, letting it linger to absorb my essence, and, placing it on his penis, ingest the fruit while I sucked his erection.

After several such Epicurean exchanges, I continued sucking him, sometimes running my tongue along the length of his shaft. His pelvis soon began its beautiful rhythm and pumped at my mouth, gently at first. As he increased the speed, I felt him hold me by my hair, keeping my head still. He continued building the intensity, soon thrusting his cock into my mouth. I felt him tense before he splashed his warm sperm into my throat. Intentionally, I removed him from my mouth before he finished, allowing his final streams to shower my lips, cheek, and chin. Without hesitation, he took me in his arms and, licking my face, collected and fed me his semen with his tongue and lips. I can’t describe the eagerness with which I devoured the orgasmic fluid from his mouth.

Our day progressed from one sensual high to another. Even our rests were a delight: we’d stroke each other while we read or absorbed the view or, more often than not, we’d simply admire each other in the all-revealing sun.

The superb, cloudless day was ending. It was past 5 p.m. We were laying on our sides facing each other, our feet toward the other’s head, relaxing, reading, and recovering from yet our latest escapade. Believing that we were done with our adventure, I playfully called to give him one last look. Slowly, keeping my upper leg straight, I raised it as high as it could go and then rolled onto my back, extending both legs as wide as I could.

The effect was unexpected. His eyes widened, even bulged, as he silently stared at my exposure. He described it to me later: My vulva was enlarged and awash in saliva, semen, and my own secretions. Strands of this earthy concoction were strung across my opening like a fine, üçyol escort delicate lace, linking my parted lips and forlornly attempting to hide the extended stretching, filling, and widening of my hole. To add to the effect, the pearly threads shifted and shimmered in the light of the sun. He was entranced, later claiming that it was one of the most erotic sights he ever saw.

Without a word and in a single smooth motion, he jumped to his feet, grabbed my arm, dragged me to the water’s edge, and flung me onto the sand, falling on me like a madman. He entered me easily; the copious amounts of sex had made me loose and lubricated, the latter evidenced by the cocktail of juices that I’d so lewdly placed on show. To say that we made love is a mistruth; it was, on both our parts, a pure joyous Fuck. It began immediately with an intensity that was hard, fast, and unwavering to the very end.

While on my back, I thrust my pelvis upwards in desperate attempts to match his cadence, each well-timed lunge a delicious reward for my clit and insides. My hands alternated between tugging my nipples, masturbating, and feeling his cock plunge into my cunt: Yes, my cunt, my cock-tunnel, my fuck-hole; it was all of these things and more. When he tired of fucking me in this position, he turned me onto my hands and knees and pummelled me from behind. His hands gripped my hips and controlled the furious motion that simultaneously slapped my ass and unceasingly filled and stretched my more than willing pussy. Supporting myself on one arm, I watched through my legs the rhythm of his balls as his pelvis smacked into me, increasing my excitement and causing me, impossibly, to open myself yet wider. With my free hand, forming a “V” with two fingers, I felt his cock thrust into me while I maddeningly tried to touch my clit with the remaining fingers. The pace was insane, punctuated with frequent changes in position, but it barely kept up with my base cravings.

Finally, while on my back, he pinned me by trussing my legs apart, his arms behind my knees. He leaned into me with his arms, pushing my legs toward me and to the sides of my chest, and causing my pelvis to elevate. I was completely and utterly split, supplying him unbridled access to my expanded hole. Delirious with lust, I craned my neck to catch glimpses of the persistent penetration of my widened pink flesh. With each withdrawal I saw my cunt lips extend and cling to his cock, gleaming from my insides, only to watch his shaft disappear and then feel it inside. I absorbed the delicious slamming of our pelvises, welcoming each blow. My cunt was voracious, gobbling with savage gluttony the endless and rapid ploughing. One of my hands was engrossed with my nipples, intensely plucking at them, while the other attacked my clit, all as I was relentlessly fucked into sweet, luscious incoherence.

In this position did we gain tempo, force, and urgency and climb to our final orgasm.

How do I end this? How do I avoid the tired, hackneyed, overused line, “…and then I exploded as he spurted his hot cum deep inside of my love box”? How do I convince you, Reader, that at that climactic instant we saw the face of God while in a communion of cosmic copulation? Is it at all possible to persuade you that the spirits of Henry Miller, Anais Nin, Don Juan and his reckless daughter, and Casanova did visit and bestow their blessings and collective libidos upon us at the anointed second of our shared ecstasy? How can I describe the culmination of the Super Fuck, in whose presence Nietzsche’s penis shrivels from envy? Can I define the moment of shared immaculate bliss that bellowed to us the meaning of our existence, causing Descartes to masturbate and scream at the top of his lungs, “We fuck, therefore we are”? Would you believe me if I said that I cried tears of rapture and exhilaration? Can I sell to you the notion that we collapsed into the sand and each other’s arms, laughing in disbelief and incapable of speech, eventually quietening to listen to the gentle breaking of the waves and the beating of each other’s hearts?

If you believe but a fraction of it then I have done my job.

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

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

My first submission so please be gentle with me! I’d love feedback! Let me know what you think!

*****

Celia Harris had been Tommy’s agent since he published his first fiction novel. She loved the book and Tommy was lauded as the next big author. There was talk of screenplays and sequels. His advances for his second book were in the six figure range. But he didn’t produce. She would ask him for a sample chapter and she got nothing or a piece of drivel that no one would pay a nickel for let alone make a movie with. She couldn’t figure it out.

After about six months she decided to have a heart to heart with him. She went to his condo which had a great view of the Philadelphia skyline. It was the perfect quiet place to write. After he invited her in and offered her a drink, she looked him over. Tommy was a handsome enough guy, he was around six feet, with short well-groomed blond hair. He had a little bit of a stomach from too much drinking but he had powerful shoulders and the exceptional ability to use his dark blue eyes to glance into your soul. He didn’t blink but could stare at you until you either smiled uncomfortably or looked away. He seemed to enjoy that part, as if it were a game.

After some mild banter about books and the weather she got down to it. “What the hell happened Tom?” she asked. “Your writing has gone from something I could sell in my sleep to something that would put readers to sleep,” she tried to laugh it off but he could tell she said what she meant.

He looked at her for the first time uncomfortably. She hadn’t seen him look away and wondered what the problem was. “Ever since she left I can’t get anything done,” he said while looking toward the ground. When who left, Celia asked. “My slut,” he replied. Now Celia took a big gulp of the scotch he had poured her. “I am a sex addict and if I don’t have someone to, well to, you know, to fuck, then I just can’t work,” he sighed. The words registered but he said them as if she would understand this everyday problem. She had dealt with crazy artsy types before but he was the first to just blatantly say it.

Now Celia was left trying to figure it out. “So you just need to get laid?” she asked. “yes,” he replied,” I just constantly need to get laid.” Otherwise he just sits and surfs porn, stroking his cock until completion and then trying to get focused back on his work before the next need strikes, he explained.

Celia thought it through. He was really gifted and she could do VERY well if he continued to do his job. So how the hell would she do it? A hooker? That could be way too expensive. She had to figure it out. Hell, he was attractive and she knew she was a bit on the slutty side but didn’t know if fucking him would be such a great idea. Still, she had a few of his drinks and started to feel bad for him. She asked to see where he worked.

As soon as she entered his office it smelled of semen. There was a hardwood floor and plenty sultangazi escort of shelves full of books. On the table in front of a leather couch was a stack of hardcore porn magazines, she could tell from the glossy pages with pictures of naked blond women with huge tits adorning the cover. The smell of cum just hung in the air. She could almost taste the salty seed just by walking into the room. He had a few monitors behind his wood desk. One, she could see, had a word processor open on it. The other was a larger monitor and he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he had been streaming some pretty wild porn. On the screen was a young blond woman on her hands and knees on a tan couch. She had on very sexy thigh highs of white lace and high heeled red fuck-me heels on. There was a good looking blond male behind her burying his eight inch cock inside the blond’ s tight ass. The screen was large and the images were striking. Tommy’s eyes immediately were glued to the screen and Celia began to feel a little drip of wetness developing between her thighs.

She tried to make a coughing sound as if to get his attention. He simply sat down in his black ventilated office chair and watched the action on the screen. “Tommy,” she whispered quietly,” Shouldn’t we talk about your book?” He didn’t even look away. “I can’t right now, why don’t you wait in the other room, I need to try to release some pressure,” he said and she could tell he was breathing a little heavier. He was facing away from her but she could tell he was rubbing his manhood through his tight jeans.

At this point, Celia doesn’t know what came over her. Whether it was the booze, her desire for him to succeed so that she could succeed or her feelings from college coming back out in full slut like force. Back in school she had been a total cumslut. She hadn’t met a cock she didn’t love and had a taste for cum. She loved to see it, to taste it and to feel it on her skin. It had been years since she felt those urges, since she became an adult and tried to keep them buried but now they were fighting to come back up. She needed him and she wanted to please him right now. Now more than she had ever wanted a man’s cock in her life, she needed his.

As she stood back watching him slowly rub himself, she could hear the quiet sound of his zipper and she knew he figured that he was alone. She stood still behind him and slowly reached beneath her tight white skirt and into her red lace panties. They were damp from wetness at the images on the screen, the woman was getting rammed now steadily in her asshole, the guy leaned forward and told her how much he loved fucking her tight ass and how he couldn’t wait for her to suck his cock and take his load all over her pretty face. The woman on the screen whimpered loudly and the man’s words clearly pushed Tommy on in his stroking. It also led Celia to slide her finger along her wet slit until it touched her now engorged escort bayanlar clit. A moan escaped her lips when she realized that Tommy had spun his chair around. He was stroking his very thick eight inch cock while staring right at Celia.

What the hell, she thought, I am all about client service and I desperately need his cock. “Why don’t you let me help Tom,” she said looking straight at his stiff cock. She walked over and as she moved her high black heels clicked on his wood floor. He looked down, still stroking his shaft and saw that she had begun pushing her panties down her legs. She kicked them off as she knelt down in front of him. He kept stroking while she smiled and began to unbutton her white matching blouse. Underneath was a nice white lace bra that kept her perfectly fake 38 DD’s in place. She loved showing off her fake tits, loved the way guys responded. His eyes rolled down her chest and she smiled knowing the effect. A bit of his precum glistened on his shaft as he stroked. She pulled off her blouse and pulled her tits out from the underwire so they were pushed up by the tight bra.

On her way to her knees she had pushed up her skirt so she had full access to her sopping wetness. Her finger found its spot and began running along her folds, slipping in every once in a while. He stared at her body and she smiled. “You like this don’t you Tommy?” He nodded his head, his hand not stopping its motion up and down his now engorged cock. “You need a slut like me so that you can cum all over us like the whore on the screen huh?” She motioned to the blond slut who was now on her knees like Celia but had her mouth wrapped around the actors stiff prick. Celia moaned again as she watched the screen and now plunged a few fingers into her wet hole.

Tommy seemed more energized watching his agent on her knees with her perfect tits out and playing with her pussy for his delight. He stroked harder. Celia looked over at him and smiled, she moved her red painted lips toward his cock, and he inhaled deeply as he could feel her breath on his wet cum covered shaft. She opened her mouth and her perfect little tongue slid out and licked just the tip of his cockhead, just enough to pull a little bit of his cum in a string toward her lips. She sucked the juice into her mouth and never took her eyes off of his. The taste was one she knew so well. She loved the taste and the feel of the hot white liquid and knew now that she would be feeling more of it from now on. “Do you like it when you can cum on your own personal whore Tommy?” she asked in her sluttiest voice. Again, he could only nod his head and stare at her body. She was his agent and he had thought about her sexually but never thought that she could be such an amazing slut. Damn he needed to cum. “Do you want to cum all over me like the fucking dirty whore that I am Tommy?” She slid another finger into her pulsing snatch. She was a squirter and she knew that as turned bağcılar escort on as she was now, she was going to make a mess of his floor. “I’m going to cum all over your floor Tommy and then, I need your cum on my face and tits. I need you to blow your jizz all over my fucking body.” She said breathlessly as she could feel her hands speed up and the feeling inside of her pussy began to pulse through her entire body. He kept staring and stroking, but he slowed down to watch, he didn’t want to cum until he watched her as he could tell this was going to be a good one to see.

Celia sat back on her high heels so that he could see her fingers buried in her pussy and her other hand now was playing with her left tit. She stroked her nipple and licked her fingers before stroking it again. Her eyes never left his although his wandered all over her now gyrating body. She was sweating and the sounds of her moist pussy echoed through his study. She began to moan louder and her eyes closed as she felt the amazing climax begin in her clit and mount from inside of her cunt. She began to shutter and scream as her pussy began to pulse and the liquid stream of girl cum just poured out across her hand and onto the floor. She continued to finger her slit until the feeling and the stream stopped. Her hand still playing with her tit and her eyes, now open staring at him as she came down from this amazing climax. It had been years since she came that much she thought.

“Now it’s your turn stud,” she smiled” cover me with cum. Make me your fucking slut.” He began stroking now in earnest as she got back onto her knees and inched her face and tits toward his shaft. She kept looking into his eyes while she held both of her tits in her hands, presenting them as waiting targets for his load. His breathing was intense now as she begged for his cum. Make me your whore Tommy, she urged him. “Give me your cum all over my face and tits,” she begged, “I need to feel your jizz and make me feel like your total worthless fucking cum slut whore.” Now pinching her nipples as his stroking became furious. He kept his eyes trained on her as the very first stream exploded from the end of his shaft. Pulse after pulse of his hot seed poured across her cheek and began dripping down onto her perfect tits.

She was moaning now, in heaven as the liquid landed shot after shot on her face and tits. She reached up after the spurting jizz slowed down and began rubbing his cockhead all over her cheeks and lips, taking a second to open her mouth to let her tongue slide across the tip of his cock, watching him shutter as she teased his now deflating shaft. He sat back in his chair as she began reaching up to rub his cum into her round tits and across her nipples. She reached up onto her face and scooped a few lengths of his ropy cum and slid them into her waiting mouth. He smiled and kept stroking his now shrinking cock. She looked up at him and said, “now that we know I can help you, we can find a way to work on that book?” She knew that she would spend some time in his office and more time on her knees for him. Her pussy and ass would be his, she realized. And she smiled knowing that this would become one hell of an agent client relationship.

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