There was no need for her to worry on that count. He stepped forward and took her by the curve where her waist flared out into her hips and ran his strong hands up her side, coming finally to caress the soft mounds of her breasts. She flinched at his strength, no one ever touched her like that anymore. He pushed her gently against the wall as his mouth found her neck. Kissing his way to her mouth she felt herself give way to his advances and her hips began to push against him, her leg wrapping around and rubbing up against his jeans.
He put his hands on her shoulders, and turned them so that his back was against the wall. For a moment she looked confused but then she felt herself being guided to her knees in front of him and she understood. Her curls had fallen into her eyes again as she looked up at him from her kneeling position.
"Undo my pants," He told her, "Take out my cock." It was not so much an invitation as a command. Her own school girl naivete which she had earned back after years of a sexless marriage had transformed her into someone who both knew and did not know what to do. Of course she had been here before, of course she had sucked her husband's cock many times in ten years of marriage, but this was not her husband and she lacked the confidence to instigate even though she had the desire.
She quickly fumbled with his pant button and zipper, slid his pants down his legs and freed his rapidly growing cock from his pants. She held it in her hands, feeling its contours, its strength, its eagerness to fuck her. She felt his fingers slide through and gently take hold of her curls. She looked up at him and he smiled.
Suddenly his cock pressed against her lips, parted them and filled her mouth. She struggled to find a rhythm, at first merely being used by him. "I'm no virgin," she thought to herself as she redoubled her efforts and began using her hand in tandem with her mouth. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the feeling of his cock on her tongue, the salty taste of skin and sweat. She felt her clit tingle at the thought of this foreign cock flooding her mouth with cum. She heard his voice.
"That's it, let me fuck your sweet little mouth," and he groaned. She moaned around his cock, not daring to stop for fear he'd think less of her. Not that she could, his hand, though not hurting her, was quite insistent in the way it kept her too close to escape.
"Reach down and rub your pussy. I want you to moan on my cock." When she reached between her thighs she found that she was as wet and ready to be fucked as she had ever been. She almost cried on his cock as she found her clit and rubbed furiously. She wanted to cum so badly.
Suddenly he pulled her off his cock so fiercely that her lips smacked and she moaned into the empty air. He pulled her up by her shoulders and tossed her face down on the bed.
"Oh no, you don't get to cum until I'm inside you." And he climbed up behind her on the bed. Almost by instinct she slid forward on her knees, arched her back and presented her wet cunt to him. He rubbed the tip of his cock against the length of her slit.
"Such a dirty girl. You think your husband knows some guy is fucking his wife?"
The tip of his cock hit her clit and she moaned out, "Noooo."
He smiled, "Maybe we should call him."
Her eyes went wide but before she could say anything the length of his cock slipped into her sopping, wet pussy. His strong hands held her ass in place as he opened her to him. Sliding out and driving back in, slightly deeper. She grunted like an animal in heat.
"Either he never fucks you or I'm a bit bigger than he his." He panted out between thrusts. When she didn't answer he slapped her ass hard. "Which is it slut?"
Under any other circumstance that word would have caused her to leave, but now, "Slut" rang in her ears and it rang true. Here she was fucking some stranger in a hotel room as he asked her about her husband. At least tonight she was a slut and the thought, combined with everything else, caused her whole body to shudder in an earthquake of an orgasm.
Through it all, Rick kept fucking her, reaching places untouched in years. "I guess someone likes to be called slut, don't you slut?" He slapped her ass again.
"Nooooo," she moaned out, still not wanting to admit that aloud.
"Well you are a slut," he breathed, "a secret your husband doesn't know I bet. Look at you, being fucked by a total stranger in a hotel room. Fuck, you didn't even make me wear a condom before I fucked you."
Oh God! He was right. The fear the thought inspired was almost enough to bring her to her sense but then she felt his arm reach underneath her and his finger began rubbing her clit in time with his thrusts. Any thought of stopping him vanished as her body mounted to another orgasm. She felt herself pushing back against him.
"That's it dirty girl, fuck me back and make me cum inside you."
Her body began shaking violent as she felt his thrusts quicken. She cried out loudly as wave after wave of pleasure overcame her. In the midst of this pleasure she felt him erupt inside of her, painting her womb with his semen. A stranger's cum. The thought overwhelmed her and she passed out.
When she came to, he was gone. She climbed to her wobbly legs and felt the stickiness on her thighs. She pressed her hand against her head, which throbbed with the pain of excess. A note lay on the bed.
"Give your husband my regards, Rick"
The End.
In The Bathroom
I'm wearing a long black coat that I picked up from one of those fashionable clique shops in London. It's got a double row of brass buttons up the front and a collar that wouldn't look out of place on a Russian military uniform. It swishes slightly round my knees as I walk and it makes me feel like ones of those stylish New York socialite girls. I find that I give my hips an extra little curve as I walk, just because it feels cool.
I meet you at a fancy bar in the city. It is low lit and warm, cluttered with the conversations of others and the clinking of glasses. I see you at once, leaning on the bar, watching the door. I pause in the doorway to let my eyes wander over you. You're wearing a pale blouse, narrow skirt, shiny black shoes, and a sly smile. I walk over nice and slow. The clip of my heels on the tiled floor cuts through the background noise of the bar and I keep a steady beat, unbuttoning my coat as I walk.
Once within a few feet, I shrug the coat off my shoulders and open it wide at the hip, revealing my tight little black dress, low cut and short enough that you know that my bare ass would touch the seat if I sat down. I turn smoothly in a full circle, as if allowing you to admire the view. An elaborate show so that you can see that I don't have a pistol hidden anywhere. Meaningless of course, because the theatrical sweep is careful to conceal the strap into the lining at the back of the coat, but you smile and I know you don't know.
I hook the coat on the back of a chair and fish in the pocket for a few banknotes to buy some drinks. Shots of vodka and bottles of beer. You tell me about your day and I mostly just listen. We pretend we're looking round the bar while we talk, but I'm pretty sure we're really just watching each other.
When you finish your beer you say you're going to the bathroom, and you give me a bright little smile that makes your eyes shine. I know you're thinking of getting your hands on me. I let you walk ahead while I finish my beer then I make my way over to the ladies bathroom.
The floors are shiny with black marble tiles and the taps over the wash basins are polished and golden. I'm barely in for a second before you grab me and drag me into one of the three stalls. You bolt the door behind us and then lean back on it. We stand and face each other in the close confines of the cubicle. I can see you're a little nervous but excited at the same time. I watch you without moving. I know what you want, you dragged me in here, and you're going to have to follow that up with something.
"Turn around."
I keep my eye on your for a moment, judging your confidence. You don't flinch; you don't repeat yourself; you just wait. I turn slowly and face the back wall. Now that I can't see you my imagination starts running wild. I wonder what you're doing. I wonder if you might touch me. I hear your feet move on the marble tiles. I'm sure you're up
so close behind me I expect to feel it, but you don't touch. I enjoy the tension, the anticipation. I'm sure you want to touch me. I wonder if you're waiting because you're nervous or just because you like to keep me in suspense. I want you to touch me. I'm half tempted to say it, but this is your lead, so I just wait.
"Put your hands on the wall."
I lean forward and put my hands on the wall, the tiles there are smooth and cold. My ass feels dangerously exposed and I arch my back slightly, tempting you to touch. But you don't. I hear your shoes on the tiles again as you move slightly. Then you deftly pick up the material of the hem of my dress and pull it right up, leaving it hanging from my waist. I can feel the cool air on my ass and the lower part of my back. I know that all that's between you and me now is the thin little black strip of my panties. I find myself hoping you pull them off me before I get them too wet to wear.
As if hearing my thoughts you hook your nails into the panties at the hips and pull them down. My legs are parted enough that they only get halfway down my thighs before they pull tight. I arch my back further, pushing my ass out towards you. I want you to touch. I want your fingers on me. I want your mouth on me. Anything. I just want you touching me. My naked pussy is right in front of you and I can hear you breathing.
I wonder if you're touching yourself. The thought makes me even hornier. I imagine you are standing behind me with your hand up under your skirt, rubbing your finger on your panties while you watch me all exposed in front of you.
Then you touch me. Your hand cups up between my legs with a firm confidence that makes me gasp. At once you press your finger into me and I push back against your hand. You are ruthless. You push straight in deep as far as your finger will reach and I find my breath catches in my throat and I can't even cry out. Then you're fucking me with your hand, two fingers thrust in and out so quick I can feel my heels skimming on the marble floor. I lower my head and push my arms against the wall, curling my toes in my shoes and just hoping I don't fall.
The main door opens and the sound from the bar floods into the bathroom. You pause, listening, your fingers still inside me. Someone else enters, her shoes clicking across the floor and I hear the door swing shut behind her. I wiggle my ass, pushing slightly against your fingers and whisper.
"Don't stop."
You start moving your hand again, slowly at first. The other woman moves into the stall next to ours and I hear the latch slide closed on the door. Your fingers are speeding up, pushing hard again. I bite my lip and keep my moans in my throat. I can hear other woman pissing. She must be sitting with her panties round her ankles just a few inches from us.
You shove me harder, fucking me roughly so that your hand slaps my ass with each thrust. My legs are trembling and I can hear my heels tapping irregularly on the floor like some tin drummer having an epileptic fit. I lean further forward, my forearms resting vertically on the wall, my elbows banging against the tiles. I can't help but let out a little noise. I thought it would be a moan but it turned out more like a growl once it escaped my throat.
The girl next door must be able to hear us. I wonder if she realizes that I'm being fucked by a girl or if in her imagination there's a man loose in the ladies bathroom. At least she's stopped pissing. I think she's just sitting there listening.
You push your thumb between the cheeks of my ass and rock hard against me like you're trying to lift me off my feet using my pussy as a handhold. You put your other hand right under, your palm on my clit and your fingers hooking up towards my stomach. I want to cum. I want it so bad that I can't even form the words to tell you. My hands are grabbing uselessly against the wall and my legs are shaking. I think I might fall. I might just topple down against the toilet. Would you lean down and continue to fuck me if I fell? I can't take the risk, I want to cum so bad.
She's still listening to us. I'd give her something to listen to if I could find my voice. Instead I just twitch against you. You rub me hard with one hand while you penetrate me with the other. I want to taste your pussy. I want my mouth on you. I want my hands on your breasts, between your legs. I want my finger up your ass. Mostly I just want to cum.
I want to take a hand off the wall so I can grab my breasts and press them hard against my ribs. I want your fingers round my throat. I want to scream bloody murder and spit between my teeth. I want to shove myself so hard against your hand that I sprain your wrist.
The orgasm hits me like an atom bomb; a deep hot glow that spreads and almost at once consumes my whole body in flame. I feel like a shell of tender skin around a fireball that threatens to consume me. You must feel me cum because you stop thrusting and press your hand firmly against me, holding it steady while I burn.
My legs are so shaky that I have to remain leaning on the wall even after you withdraw you hand. After a few moments of catching my balance I manage to stand up. My dress falls back down to my thighs. I can feel my cheeks and throat flushed and sweet and I'm sure that I'll be glowing cherry red.
I turn to face you and you press your wet fingers against my lips. I kiss them and take them into my mouth. I can taste my own pussy on your fingers. My breath is still unsteady, my lips tremble against your hand. You lick your lips and smile. I want to kiss you but I don't trust myself to move just yet.
The lady in the stall next door flushes and makes her way quickly to the wash basins. I grin.
"I reckon you fucked me so good that you got her off too."
You grin back like you know you did.
Once the other lady has left you unlock the door and go to wash your hands. I stay in the stall and clean myself up a bit before pulling my panties up. I go out to the wash basin and I splash a little water on my face and fix my hair. Then I straighten my dress and follow you back out into the bar.
The End.
Saying Goodbye
I did some dating in high school but never dated any girl very long. I don't know if it was me or them, but for whatever reason, the relationships just never went beyond casual dating.
I had plenty of friends who were going steady, hooked-up tight, and just about all of them were having lots of sex but me, well, again casual dating did provide a few hand jobs now and then along with some nice boob action from several girls, even some memorable blow jobs.
But, well, I wasn't a virgin when I went off to college, I'd gotten rid of my cherry when I was eighteen and a senior in high school to a girl, Melissa Robinson, who was easy to get into bed. Our relationship wasn't serious in the least, I wanted to have sex for the first time and Melissa loved sex. Pretty much all you had to do was ask.
Well, it was pretty good, she had a pretty nice body and all and she really knew how to use it. So, I did go off to college with some experience at least.
As many have found out as well, college life and college girls can be much more open and free than what we all had in high school. I really think a lot of the change that takes place is due to the girls. Once they leave high school and go away to college, they, many of them, let go and begin to have a good time. A really good time.
That was certainly what I saw and I took advantage of it just like most of my buddies.
There was one girl, however, that I met when I was in my junior year, she was a sophomore, and we really seemed to hit it off really well. Diana Dolan, like me, was also an English major with an Education minor, we both planned to teach after graduation.
Diana was really pretty and I soon found out that she had a lovely body that she enjoyed using well and often. I teased her about being "DD with the B's and C's" as a take on her name's initials, her general grades, followed by her bra size.
It was after a few months of dating that we began discussing more permanent plans and soon after that we became engaged. My parents thought the world of her and when I met her mom, we really connected so it was looking like it would be a marriage made in heaven, as they say.
Everything was wonderful all the way through my graduation and into my getting a teaching job nearby
as Diana began her final year. Then, we both began to see that we really weren't meant to be together and decided to end our engagement and go our separate ways.
It had been about a month after we'd made our decision, on a Sunday morning as I was sitting at my kitchen table reviewing lesson plans for the weeks to come, when my doorbell rang.
I hopped up and looked through the little security peephole and there was Diana's mother, Judy, standing in the hallway outside my door.
Now, I had always gotten along with Diana's mom really well, she was nice and fun and we always seemed to hit it off.
I knew her mom had been disappointed when we called off our engagement because I overheard her on the phone with her mom telling her after we had come to the decision. Her mom was more upset than we were, it had seemed.
So, I swung the door open and welcomed her in.
"Oh, Kenny, I hope I'm not bothering you this morning but I was in town and had some of your things that were still at my house," she said, handing me a grocery bag full of clothes.
"Oh, sure, gee, thanks, come in, I've got coffee," I said and she stepped inside and we went to my kitchen where I got a mug down. As I turned back to her, she was standing there crying, "Oh, Kenny, I'm so sorry you two have parted ways, I'd so wanted you for my son-in-law."
I stepped over to her and hugged her to me as I felt her trembling as she sobbed a bit. I held her for a minute or two until she'd calmed down when she said, "Oh, I really should be going, Kenny, I've disrupted your morning enough, I'm afraid. I really just wanted to say goodbye."
I'm not sure exactly why but I pulled her back to me and kissed her, perhaps a little harder than I'd meant, though maybe not. It was then that I felt her tongue slip between my lips.
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