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Life on the Road

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If you travel enough you start to see the same faces. Business travels seem to take the same flights. They go to the same cities. They stay at the same hotels. Everyone picks an airline or hotel chain based on a loyalty program. So if you spend a month in the downtown Hilton in Minneapolis, it’s not uncommon to run into someone you met in the bar a year later in the same hotel brand in another major city.

It’s not like you become friends. You might strike up a conversation in a bar. But mostly it’s just a polite nod when you see the same face again in the parking garage or getting off the elevator. It’s probably not that much different than people with traditional jobs in skyscrapers or giant corporate campuses. There are people you know, but you don’t really know.

Life on the road is lonely. It’s virtually impossible to have a relationship back home when you spend most of the week in a hotel. People have different ways of coping. Most drink too much. Others spend every waking moment focused on work. And some turn to sex.

Everyone has their preferences. For some it’s blowing off steam with a co-worker after spending hours together doing business. I’ve known tons of consultants who ended up in passionate, tumultuous affairs with their colleagues. I’ve also known men and women who preferred to troll the bars looking for meaningless one night.

I was no different than the rest. I’d fucked co-workers and clients and had both go terribly. I’d slept with flight attendants and women who worked at hotels. And more than once I’d gone back to a strangers room after sitting in the hotel bar until last call.

The hotel bar was the easiest. There wasn’t much downside, unlike fooling around with a colleague. And it didn’t require the effort of building a rapport with someone you talked to in two minute doses when you were finding your seat or checking in. The only downside is that it was always a complete chance. You couldn’t go to the bar looking for something. Most nights the room was filled with men. And not every woman was looking for a one night stand. You just had to get lucky and sit down in the right seat on the right night.

Most of the encounters were forgettable. Just a good time between two strangers who were often half-drunk. Typically it was just a one night thing. Though there were times that it escalated to something more. It never came close to being a relationship, though. More like fuck buddies or friends-with-benefits.

I should have known that Diya would be different.

I noticed her in the hotel bar on Monday evening. I’d arrived in town that morning and spent the day at a client’s office. She wasn’t one of the familiar faces. I was certain I’d never seen her on an elevator or walking through the airport. It would have been impossible to forget her. She was gorgeous.

Diya was Indian, but spoke with a British accent. She had big, beautiful brown eyes, pouty lips, and long black hair. Her body was fit and curvy. She looked like someone who belonged on a runway. Not sitting in a hotel bar with a laptop and a glass of wine.

That first night I sat at the end of the bar. She was alone at the nearest booth. I watched a steady stream of men in suits or khakis walk over and attempt to start a conversation. She politely brushed all of them away. I wasn’t surprised. She didn’t look like the type of woman who could ever be picked up in a bar. Especially not by middle-aged men in golf shirts or cocky young consultants in pinstripes.

I didn’t even attempt an approach. I sat quietly at the bar eating dinner and then nursing a few drinks while I tapped away on my own keyboard. Diya left alone around eleven. I stayed until midnight. I spent the last half-hour making a half-assed pass at an older blond in a beige pant suit who came in and took the stool by me. She looked to be in her early forties—about 10 years older than me. I’d found over the years that women around forty were most often the ones looking to have a little fun. Either that, or the women right out of college.

The woman—Claudia—was willing to flirt. But it was obvious that it wasn’t going anywhere that night, so I packed up and headed to my room alone. Before I left, she promised she’d be in the bar again the next night.

The next two nights were similar to the first. I had dinner at drinks sitting at the bar. I’d see Diya working alone at a booth and politely turning anyway anyone approached. And Claudia would eventually come in, sit next to me, and flirt for a few hours without it actually going anywhere. Either she just wanted a little male attention or she was holding out until Thursday—her last night in town. I’d seen that behavior in the past. Someone who wanted to make sure it was just a one night thing. I assumed we would sleep together and I was happy about it. Claudia was a little plain, but still attractive and interesting. I didn’t bother trying to meet someone else. If it didn’ t lead to sex, I was still glad just to have some company in the bar.

On Thursday I got out of the office just canlı bahis after five. I went straight to the bar. Though we’d not made any plans, my hope was that Claudia would show up early, too, and she’d be up for slipping out early. The week had been busy and stressful. I was dying to blow off some steam. I wanted something more than a half hour romp after too many drinks.

The bar was mostly empty at that hour. Surprisingly, Diya was already set up in the same corner booth. She looked up and flashed me a smile as I walked in. I nodded in her direction. It was the same casual greeting I exchanged in hotels and airports all over the country with people I would never actually talk to. I was surprised she even recognized me. I thought perhaps she was just being polite since we were the only ones in the bar.

I sat down at my stool and ordered a drink. I was seated or only a couple of minutes when Diya came over and stood next to me. She signaled the bartender for a drink.

Up close, she was even more stunning. Her dark hair was parted in the center and hung down to frame her face. She wore a black skirt and blazer with stockings and heels. Her blouse was square-necked and low-cut with black lace trim. It was a deep red silk that looked good against her brown skin and showed off the swell of her bosom. It was covered in a gold pattern with big gold buttons.

“A pretty woman smiles at you and you don’t come over to say hello?” she said to me in her British accent.

I was surprised. At first I couldn’t believe she was speaking to me. Much less comprehend what she’d said.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realize it was an invitation.”

“You’ve been sitting here all week glancing over at me,” she said. “And you haven’t said a thing to me. What else would it be?”

“Well, every time I glanced over you were sending someone away,” I responded. “I took that as a sign.”

She laughed. It was beautiful, deep sexy laugh.

“Old men and overgrown frat boys,” she said. “That’s the only guys who’ve approached me. Not exactly my thing. I can do better, don’t you think?”

I nodded my head.

“Definitely,” I said. I couldn’t get over how attractive she was. I’ve always done fine with the ladies, but she felt out of my league.

“You can too,” she said.

I gave her a puzzled look.

“Don’t play coy,” she said. “I’ve noticed your companion this week. I think you can do better than an older woman who wants to have a fling with a younger man but can’t follow through on her desire.”

I blushed. I felt embarrassed that she’d noticed me and Claudia.

“You’re very blunt,” I said. “I suppose you’ve heard that before.”

“I’m a female consultant in my late twenties. Almost everyone in this industry is older and male. I’ve been called a lot of things. Most of them not as pleasant as blunt,” she responded. “That one is almost a compliment. I am blunt. Is there anything wrong with that?”

“No,” I responded. I thought about how passive Claudia had been all week. “Blunt is refreshing.”

“Good,” she said. “I’m sick of the food here. It’s awful. And I hate going to nice restaurants alone. Do you want to go somewhere with me? There’s a great steakhouse that’s not far from here. I’m Diya, by the way. I guess we actually haven’t met.”

I introduced myself.

“So? Are we going?” she asked.

I had a decision to make. I wasn’t completely sure where an evening with Claudia would lead, but I felt confident we’d end up in bed. It seemed much less likely to happen with Diya. In all likelihood we’d have a nice meal, some conversation, maybe a few drinks, and it wouldn’t go much further. Still, there was a small chance something might happen with her. And even if it didn’t, I’d probably enjoy the evening. I finished the rest of my drink. Diya chugged her wine. Then we got our things and left. If it went badly, maybe I could still catch Claudia later in the bar.

Dinner was great. The food was excelling and things just clicked between me and Diya. The conversation was interesting and funny at first. There was an undeniable chemistry between the two of us. It was unlike any experience I’d had on the road. Eventually, it turned flirtatious. She’d punctuate what she was saying by reaching out to touch my arm or hand. I couldn’t stop staring at her and admiring her beauty. And I’d catch her staring back at me with those big brown eyes.

We left the restaurant hand in hand. We were slightly tipsy, but we’d only split a single bottle of wine and were far from drunk.

“What next?” she asked. “How should two young, beautiful people spend the evening in the Windy City?”

“I don’t know,” I responded. “I’ve spent a lot of time here for work, but I haven’t really gone out looking for entertainment at night. I could look on my phone and try to find a bar or a club?”

“Yes,” she responded with a slow head nod. “That could be fun. But I’m just not sure of something.” she said.

“Not sure of what?” I asked. I was worried that kaçak iddaa she didn’t feel comfortable going off alone and getting drunk with me.

“I’m not sure it will leave us enough time,” she said.

I gave her a puzzled look.

“To fuck,” she said with a smile.

She pressed her hot body against me. Her large breasts crushed against my chest. She was tall for a woman, and with her heels on it was easy for her to turn her lips up to meet mine.

We kissed for the first time. It was slow and wonderful. I wrapped my arm around the small of her back and pulled her tight. My lips parted and our tongues met. I was instantly hard.

I stepped to the curb and quickly hailed a cab. We’d walked to the restaurant, but it had taken over 20 minutes. Neither of us wanted to waste that much time getting back.

We were like two horny teenagers in the backseat. Neither of us paid attention to the cab driver. It didn’t matter if he was glancing back. We didn’t care.

Diya leaned into me, lifting her ass off the seat. We kissed. I ran my hand up her stockings and under her black wool skirt. I realized she was wearing garters. I went higher and cupped her ass. She was also wearing a thong. She looked at me and winked.

“Were you planning on this tonight?” I asked.

She shrugged.

“More like hoping,” she said. “I get bored on the road. It’s nice to find some company. But I don’t usually find someone to pique my interest.”

We kissed again. I kept my right hand on her ass. My left went to her breast. I rubbed it through her camisole and gave it a squeeze. A lusty moan slipped through her lips.

She reached for my cock. I was still rock hard. She rubbed and teased me through my slacks. We kept kissing one another. I glanced up and saw the driver watching us in the rear view mirror. But I still didn’t care.

Diya unzipped my trousers and slipped inside. She wrapped her hand around my thick boner.

“Oh my,” she said with arched eyebrows. “You get better and better.”

She started jacking me off. I leaned back and let her pump my dick. I looked in the mirror and saw we still had an audience. I closed my eyes to block him out. I felt like I could blow at any second.

The driver pulled up to the hotel.

“To be continued,” Diya whispered before she zipped me up.

We hurried through the hotel lobby. Diya made a quick nod at the hotel bar.

“Looks like your friend is in there. You want to leave me and go talk to her?”

I saw Claudia’s back. She was sitting on a stool at the bar alone. I grabbed Diya’s hand and pulled her toward the elevator instead of answering.

We were the only passengers. Diya pushed a button for a high floor. When the doors shut, she dropped to her knees and unzipped me again. I couldn’t believe what she was doing. But I had no interest in stopping her.

My cock had softened a bit. She pulled it out quickly.

“Oh my,” she said again. “You have a beautiful cock.”

She wrapped her lips around the swollen head. She used her tongue to toy with it. I groaned loudly. She bobbed her head up and down my rigid shaft.

The elevator started to slow. Diya slid my cock back into my pants and zipped me up quickly. When the doors opened there was a bellhop waiting. I couldn’t tell if he saw the tent in my pants.

We rushed off the elevator and Diya led me to her room. I swept her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck while she opened the door. I ran my hands up her thighs and lifted her skirt to expose her thong and ass cheeks. I rubbed my hard cock against her and reached around to touch her tits.

She got the door open and I followed her in. She turned and threw an arm around my neck and kissed me deeply. The far wall of the room was solid glass—a big window looking out on the city. I pushed her across the room until we were up against it.

“Turn around,” I commanded. She obeyed.

“Take off your jacket,” I said.

She tossed her jacket aside. Her little blouse was sleeveless and she had taut, strong arms.

“Hands against the wall,” I commanded.

Again, she obeyed.

“Ass out.”

She leaned so that her hot ass was sticking back in the air. I pushed her skirt back up again. Her ass was perfect. Her little black satin thong ran between her curvy brown cheeks.

I started grinding into Diya again. I kissed the back of her neck. I reached around and quickly unbuttoned her blouse. Her bra was lacy and barely contained her ample curves. I grasped the cups and pulled them down until I could see her hard, brown nipples. Then I ran a hand between her smooth thighs until I rubbed against her wet crotch.

“Spread your legs,” I whispered.

I glanced out the window at the traffic far below. It would have been impossible for anyone to see us. But there were a couple of light still on in the building across the way. I wondered if anyone could glimpse us from their office.

I dropped to my knees behind Diya. I kissed my way up her stockings kaçak bahis and then over her bare flesh. I found the thin strip of satin covering her pussy. I drug my tongue over it and tasted her juices. She moaned reflexively.

I deftly unfastened the garters on her hose and grabbed the thong. I pulled it down her tight legs. Her furry brown pussy was waiting for my tongue.

I licked her from front to back. I drug my tongue up higher and tickled her asshole. And then I went back to her clit. I plunged my middle two fingers in her cunt and started fucking her as I licked.

She was LOUD. We weren’t in a cheap hotel with thin walls, but I still find it impossible to imagine the neighbors sleeping through her cries. I fingered her gash harder. She started to squirm and wiggle. She leaned her head against the glass for extra support. She moaned my name and begged me to keep going.

I tongued her clit from behind. Her juices started dripping down my chin. I kept driving my fingers into her. Diya’s face and tits were planted against the big glass window. Her legs started to shake. She cried out loudly and started cumming. Her knees buckled and she fell down into my arms as she climaxed.

We kissed one another several times. I kissed down her neck and all over those luscious tits. We both started stripping. I got up and sat in a chair in the corner. My erect cock was sticking straight up.

“Suck my cock,” I commanded.

Diya got on her knees in front of me. She was completely naked. We were still in front of the big window. I glanced across and saw shadows in the windows across the street. I hoped someone was watching. The idea thrilled me.

She ran her tongue up and down my rigid bowl. It glistened with her saliva in the lamplight. She wrapped her lips around my swollen head and took my shaft into her mouth slowly. My whole body tingled.

“You like that?” she asked with a wicked grin.

I nodded.

“How about this?” she asked.

She moved further in-between my spread legs. She wrapped a hand around my big cock and pulled it between her big, soft titties. She cupped her breasts, leaving her hard, brown nipples peeking between her spread fingers. She squeezed them together on my rod and slowly moved them up and down.

“You like this?” she asked.

I nodded again.

“You like fucking my titties?” she asked.

“Yes,” I groaned.

Every nerve in my cock was stimulated. She jiggled them faster. Every few strokes she’d stop and lean forward to lick my cock and keep it lubed.

“I’m going to cum,” I gasped.

She grabbed each of her tits by the nipple and started jiggling them violently. I was completely visually and physically. I felt my cock spasm and then I popped. My first shot hit her on the lips. Then I spurted all over her tits. She kept going until I’d finished cumming on her.

“You’re not through yet, are you?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“Good,” she said.

She wiped my cum off with her fingers and licked them clean. Then she took my hand and we moved to the bed.

“On your back,” she said.

Obviously, I was no longer the one giving commands.

I laid down on the cool bed sheets. She straddled my bare chest and pushed her ass to my face. Then she leaned forward. I inhaled the musky scent of her cunt. I eagerly buried my tongue in it again.

Diya leaned forward and gently licked at my recovering cock. I felt her hand wrap around the base and she gently tugged at it.

I swirled my tongue around her clit.

“Use your fingers,” she commanded.

I plunged one back inside her. She moaned with delight. I pushed a second one in her.

Diya wrapped her lips around my cock. She moved slowly up and down my shaft. She wanted me hard again.

I sucked her clit into my mouth. I kept two fingers in her twat and pressed my thumb against her asshole. I slowly circled it around the rim. Diya squealed pleasurably. She started rocking back and forth on my face. My fingers were forced deeper inside her. The tip of my thumb breached her ass.

She kept tugging my cock. She was no longer being delicate. She jerked it frantically. Almost painfully. It was turning to steel again.

I crammed a third finger into her pussy. I bit at her clit and pushed my thumb further into her ass.

“Oh yes!,” she cried out.

Her pussy lips were visibly contracting. She squeezed her thighs tight around my hand. And then she screamed loudly and started cumming again.

I gently pushed her off my chest.

“On your knees,” I said. I was taking command again.

She got on her hands and knees on the bed. She was facing the big window. I could see the reflection of her face and her big tits. I got behind her and slapped her plump little ass hard enough to make her yelp. I wrapped my hands in her long, dark hair and pulled gently, forcing her to arch her back and lift her hips. I used my free hand to guide my giant cock into her hot, wet cunt.

I watched the reflection while we fucked. Her mouth was wide open as she moaned and groaned. Her titties bounced with each thrust of my cock. I wanted to take it slow and enjoy the view, but I couldn’t contain myself. I’d been dying to fuck her all night and my first orgasm did nothing to dull my desire.

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Heather Left Me in the Bathroom

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Amateur

Subject: Heather

Age: 31

Hair: Blond

Cup: DD? E?

Location: a bar in Kansas

I can’t describe how hot this woman, Heather, was to me. Older, yes, by almost 10 years, but man, she worked out and I don’t know bra sizes, but she had a rack like you wouldn’t believe. She let me feel her muscles on her arms.

When I did she said I was “built like a girl.” But she seemed to think it was funny, and I think she liked me a little for letting her make a joke at my expense. I am scrawny and… uh, short.

Now, whiskey hits me quick and I’d already had two by that point, but seeing her boobs all pushed up in that denim vest in her Daisy Dukes, with that tight tummy and cowgirl hat… she bent over once in a pool game, just so, stuck her butt out and “accidentally” bumped it into me. She gave me a knowing look, and we chatted, buying each other $1 PBR back and forth for the rest of the night.

Eventually a slow country song came on and we danced. Just face-to-face at first, but then she leaned into me. It was like she needed me to lean on. I held her close and… I was sure she felt my stiffy, thought she would pull away. But instead, she turned around, leaned back into me… into Gaziantep Saatlik Escort me with her back… and she raked her tush left-to-right, right-to-left across my hard on, pressed into me with earnest eagerness.

Finally, when the song ended, we were alone in the corner. How I wish it’d been close to last call. I wanted to take this woman home with me. It was still kind of dark, but we were both drunk and horny. And she’d been flirting with me all night. She needed to know, so I told her my full size and this horny cougar whispered into my ear…

“Honey, I don’t care how little you are soft. I want it hard…”

I stood there with a pleading look on my face. She looked into my eyes, raised an eyebrow. “I felt you, you know, ladies do pay attention… I know you weren’t…”

And her eyebrow froze in place at its peak as the realization dawned on her that she was wrong. She had felt me hard. She looked down, saw my “tent,” and stifled a laugh behind her hand. She was drunk enough to put a lot of emphasis on her attempt to whisper, so that she mouthed the word and I barely heard her, but the word was clear.

“Really?”

Before I could even nod, she grabbed for it. Her hand encompassed my hard shaft entirely through my jeans.

“You’d disappear between my tits.” She said it matter-of-factly. It was undeniably true, even in her imagination.

While she did this, she squeezed my mousey toy, not moving her wrist, but with her fist pulsing quickly, tightly once, twice… and she continued even after I came, a third pulse, a fourth… but by then she must have felt the moistness of my seed against her hand on my pants.

Instantly, Heather threw up her hands and burst into drunkenly loud laughter. I swear everyone in the bar turned and looked. Blushing uncontrollably and still shuddering from orgasm, I covered my cum stain with my hand and fled into the men’s bathroom.

I was drunk and totally turned on, even though I just came all over myself, so after cleaning the semen out of my underwear and my pubic hair there in the stall, I waited, noticed no-one else was in the bathroom, and started jerking off as quietly as I thought I could.

Heather and I weren’t standing too far from the bathroom when she’d grabbed me, and she hadn’t moved. She was like a sentinel, sticking her butt out in tight jean shorts, pouty lips and cocked pinky finger awaiting to show me my full shame.

I could hear her friends come over and start asking what happened. She told them all, and there was another chorus of laughter. I jerked off even harder, not realizing that if I could hear them plainly, they could hear me, too.

One of her friends said it, I don’t know who, but it was the beginning of what I remember most of that conversation (other than feeling a fresh surge of arousal every time one of them laughed). “It fit in your hand? How is he jacking off if he can’t even stroke it? Oh my God!”

And Heather shouted into the bathroom door, “Have fun jerking it with two fingers, little boy!”

She had meant it as an insult, but, still being only semi-erect again, from being drunk and having cum once already, I didn’t have enough to fill up my hand. It was undeniably true that I was jerking it with two fingers– had to, to get a stroke at that size. I groaned in surprise as I came again at the realization– totally sudden and unexpected, almost instantly on hearing her say “two fingers” and “little.” A fresh peal of laughter headed out the bar.

I waited until I was clean again, though I couldn’t get the stain out. When I thought it was safe, I stood up from the toilet, wrapped tightly in my coat, and made my way out as discreetly as possible.

I blushed like an ambulance!

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Obsessionated

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Amateur

So back in the 20-teens, I began writing erotica for an e-zine called Oysters and Chocolate, edited by two women, Samantha Sade and Jordan LaRousse. I was a fledgling writer and they were two accomplished editors of a very successful e-publication. They gave me encouragement, a lot of helpful advice, and a chance. The following story which I shared with them had the bones, but it needed to be fleshed out a bit. They gave me some suggestions which I took to heart, and I crafted a much sleezier story out of my original plain one. I am so grateful to both of you, Samantha and Jordan.

For the seventh time that day she dialed his number. And she counted each ring.

One. She bit on her lower lip.

Two. Took in a deep breath.

Three. Pleaded out loud.

“Hello,” he said.

She hung up. And heaved a sigh.

The two items she required were on the table next to the door. She yanked her sweatshirt off over her head and shed her Levis. A robe and sandals would suffice.

With a trembling hand she started the engine, backed out of her driveway, shifted into first, and accelerated. It would take exactly eleven minutes.

Automatically, she dimmed her high beams. The oncoming lights flickered through the trees, illuminating the weathered barn with its magnificent silo, then shone into her eyes before fading past her. Six point nine more miles.

What a waste of a day it had been. Nothing accomplished. Her house was a sty. Guests were due tomorrow. This always seemed to happen when time was so precious.

Like Sex Hikayeleri so often before, gnawing at her cranium, the urge that just wouldn’t be quelled. That need of hers. To be entered. To be filled. When everything in her surroundings became a potential erection, be it mop stick or bottle neck.

It had begun with the bulbous handle of the butter knife she was soaping up. As she passed it in and out of her tightly clenched fist, titillating the anal region of her homunculus, she was forced to back away from the sink full of dishes and press her arse against the corner of the counter top, grinding into it, hands dripping sudsy water all over her jeans and onto the linoleum.

Then she spent the rest of the morning and all afternoon, arching against the brass cabinet pull, or straddling a glass doorknob, or rocking on an oak barstool with an agate made snug against her anus by stretching her bikini briefs high over her hips.

And all the while, she chastised herself for work that wasn’t getting done.

She turned at the wrought iron signpost with the gold ball on top. His place was just one point eight miles down this rutty road.

A rusted Cougar and Chevy truck were parked in the drive. She grimaced. Both of them tonight. His roommate could be a little twisted.

“Guess I deserve it,” she muttered.

She shut off the engine, reached onto the passenger seat for the night’s offerings, and scooted to the back step.

Shifting from leg to leg, she waited for her knock to be answered. He opened the Erotik Hikayeler door and smiled as he received the little jar of Vicks and the pearl-handled hairbrush. A gestured sweep of his arm directed her past him and into the kitchen.

With his one good eye, his guy at the table tracked her passage through. She didn’t stop until she reached the bedroom.

Kicking sandals off and letting her robe fall to the floor, she bent to remove her soggy underwear, then laid herself prone upon the pile of pillows in the middle of the double bed. She waited, her pelvis rocking in slow circles, her desire close to welling over.

Footsteps sounded behind her; she stole a look. Just like he appeared last week: tall, lanky, muscular. And between his legs, the most satisfying of her phalluses, already swelling and flushing in anticipation.

His mate followed him in. A little paunchier, but still identified with the man appendage.

She settled into the bedding and oozed.

The jar and hairbrush clunked on the nearby tabletop. The head of the bed lurched.

His guy crossed his legs under her face and leaned over her head forcing it down against his groin. His arms bear-hugged her chest with each palm pressing a breast. When she felt each nipple being pinched, securing her, she stiffened.

She buried her face deeper into his roommate’s groin and screamed as the first blow scorched her bared ass. And on the second. She counted every one of them, silently, after each shriek.

“Harder! Harder!” his Tecavüz Hikayeleri guy chanted and his prick augmented against her forehead, the tip of her nose, then her mouth.

He struck again. She gyrated. Twenty-one. Then once more. Twenty-two. She relaxed and spread herself wider. Next time, though, he would be told to deliver twenty-three.

The bed rocked again. His heat was near. He balmed her butt. Then her salvation, his fully infused cock, was liberally anointed while his guy released her nipples and compressed her head, forced her neck back and pushed his cock against her lips.

Sex toys and vibrators had been forbidden by her therapist, as her compulsions to use them were unrelenting. A soaped-up Venus razor handle; condom-covered window crank; chilly marble chess piece; knobby-edged parsnip–she had had to make do with these, before he was around. Not any more.

With a grunt he was finally inside, filling and stretching her, and she, bracing and clenching. His every plunge expunging her need, freeing her tethered mind–at least for one blessed moment.

He reached down to her clit and rubbed it hard against her pubic bone. With her gasps, he rammed into her more ferociously until, on the brink, she tensed. Then he pushed her over, and, in their freefall, he unloaded inside her as his guy shot his cum on her face.

The hairbrush, now, was raked through black velvety tangles to sobs of gratitude. His other palm drew circles on her back.

So softened that she could no longer grip it, his flaccidity was expelled. His roomie clumsily rubbed her shoulders. Then they left her to be alone.

To the sting in her buttocks and the mentholated afterglow inside her hole, she vowed, “Tomorrow, I’ll get everything done.”

And she slept with that conviction.

Blissfully.

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