Annual Leave

by Ben Boswell

  “Oh Damon,” she gushed.

  He smiled and slowly withdrew his cock. She groaned at the empty feeling that followed, but felt giddy as he spun her back around and pulled her into a tight embrace. They kissed again, alternating between deep, soul kisses, and gentle butterfly pecks. The heat inside seemed to burst to the surface, and Heather realized, embarrassed, that she was soaked with sweat, but he didn’t seem to mind, indeed he seemed to relish the sensation of her damp, overheated body against his.

  “That was amazing.”

  He smiled. “We’re not done yet.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “Not yet.”

  She reached down between them and found his hard cock, damp and sticky from being inside her.

  “Should I?” she asked, glancing down.

  In fact, the idea filled her with anxiety. It wasn’t just that she’d never taken a man into her mouth after he’d been inside her, but she also wasn’t sure she could handle him.

  “I’d rather continue playing with this,” he replied. His hand sliding between her legs from behind, his finger finding her wet gash.

  A different anxiety now. Her pussy was still throbbing from the pounding he’d given her already.

  “I’m a little sore.”

  “We can take care of that.”

  He rolled her firmly onto her back, again taking charge. Then kneeling between her legs, he pressed her thighs back against her chest. She was completely open and exposed. No man had ever seen her this way. Oh God, he could see everything. In that position, even her ass was on display. She flushed and looked away.

  He chuckled. “You have a pretty pussy.”

  She blushed an even deeper red. She felt his thumbs on either side of her slit, pulling her open. He could see inside her now, she thought as another surge of shame washed over her.

  He lowered his face to her exposed mound. She should have shaved. Another source of self-consciousness. But he didn’t seem to mind. He began licking around her sensitive lips, eliciting a moan. He took his time, gently bathing her swollen snatch with his tongue. Around and around, and then a quick flick at her clit. She shuddered and realized with still more embarrassment that her hands were on the back of his shaved head, urging him on.

  As nice as it felt, what was even hotter was the fact that he was doing it at all. Not only had she never blown a man after he’d been inside her, no man had ever gone down on her after fucking her. True he hadn’t come inside her yet, but he was leaking precum, and her pussy was soaked and swollen.

  His oral attention didn’t really reduce her soreness, but it did reignite her excitement. Although his strong hands on her hamstrings kept her largely in place, her body squirmed beneath him.

  “Oh God, Damon, oh God.”

  He looked up at her, his face glistening with her juices. He smiled.

  “You ready for more?”

  She gave him a small, quick nod.

  He lowered his head and gave her pussy a long, slow lick, pressing the flat of his tongue against her engorged clit, then deep between her lips, and then….

  “Ahhh,” she shrieked.

  He lapped at her asshole. She bucked and growled. Her breaths came in rapid, shallow gasps. Indescribable, inconceivable. It felt good, but even more it was so dirty, so lewd. Explosively sexual. It made her nipples ache, her clit throb. Dizzying, exhilarating.

  His tongue began its return journey, pressing deep into her pussy, then flicking at her clit. She writhed and squealed in delight. It was too soon for her to come again, but her soreness was forgotten. Instead, she longed for his cock.

  As if reading her thoughts he reared up. She gasped.

  “Oh my God, was that in me?”

  It was her first clear look at his cock, and it looked even bigger than it had felt inside her. Looking the size of her forearm, it twitched menacingly as it dangled above her pink pussy.

  He laughed. “Size doesn’t matter,” he said with a wink.

  A lie, she knew now.

  He rubbed the spongy head of his cock up and down her wet slit. She moaned and turned away from the obscene sight. He slapped her pussy with his cock.

  “Watch.”

  He entered her deliberately, inch after inch of his huge prick disappearing into her stretched twat. She braced herself for the jolt of pain that she was sure was coming. She could never take it all. But the pain never came. Instead, he plunged deeper and deeper, until there was nothing left. That final inch was the most delicious, the base of his shaft flaring, increasing the pressure against her clit. She mewled in pleasure.

  He withdrew almost completely, and then entered her again, faster, harder this time. And again. Her eyes rolled back into her head on each stroke, her vision becoming a haze of grey.

  “Damn, that’s sexy,” he sighed.

  She wanted to respond. To let him know she liked her view as well. That no man had ever made her feel this way. That she never wanted it to end. But those deep strokes were short-circuiting her brain. Speech was impossible. Movement was impossible. All that she could do was lie there and take it. Take that delicious, mind-scrambling pounding.

  Harder, harder, her labia clinging to his fat, glistening cock. Her pussy squishing obscenely with each thrust. She could feel it building. The blood rushing from her extremities to her loins, making her lightheaded, her fingers and toes tingling. The pins and needles spreading up her arms and leg. Her heart was pounding, breaths coming in ragged gasps.

  She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Instead, her body shuddered, synapses firing, every muscle contracting, she swung her head from side to side, but still no sounds came out. And then the wave crashed, and she was tumbling, head over heels, unable to breathe, her vision blurred, and then nothing.

  “Hey, Soccer Mom, you okay?” He was beside her, chuckling.

  Though she’d regained consciousness, she was still dizzy, her skin damp and clammy. It took her a moment to realize who she was, where she was, who he was….

  “Oh God, Damon, that was….”

  But there was no word to capture her emotion. Or at least her brain wasn’t working well enough yet to find it. She looked over at him, at his hard cock.

  “Did you come?” she asked.

  “It’s okay….”

  “I want you to. How do you want me?”

  He hesitated. “You sure?”

  She nodded.

  “On your stomach.”

  She rolled over with some difficulty. Her body felt sluggish, weighted down. She felt him straddle her.

  “You’re not going to….”

  “Put it in your ass?”

  She nodded.

  “Not unless you want me to.”

  She hesitated. She’d never done that, never wanted to, and yet….

  “No,” she replied.

  He grinned as he read her uncertainty. “Maybe later then.”

  Instead, he slowly fed his fat prick into her from behind. In this position he couldn’t go quite as deep, but with her legs pressed together, it was a tighter fit.

  “Oh God, you feel so big,” she moaned.

  He thrust into her hard. “Damn, you’re tight.”

  He increased his pace rapidly, pistoning into her swollen, throbbing cunt.

  “Don’t stop until you come,” she gasped. “Don’t stop.”

  Harder, harder. She could feel his sweat dripping on her back. She looked from side to side, at his muscular arms bracketed her head, feeling his forcefulness. He was so powerful, so strong. Faster now, still harder.

  Heather gasped and wheezed and finally cried out with each thrust. Her squeals getting louder and louder, competing with the groaning of the bedsprings, the creaking of the headboard. Anyone walking by, everyone in the neighboring rooms could hear her, would know that the innocent little soccer mom in 2114 was getting her brains fucked out. And she didn’t care.

  “Fuck me!” she screamed.

  It seemed to inflame him further. He
banged her still harder, harder than she’d thought possible.

  “Fuck me!” she begged.

  He grabbed her hair, yanked back on her head. She yelped in pain, but it only added to her excitement.

  “Fuck me, you bastard! Fuck meeeee!”

  Her plea trailed off as she came yet again, but still, through gritted teeth, she pleaded.

  “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me!”

  And then she felt it. Felt his muscles clench, felt his cock swell, and then felt his shaft pulse, over and over and over, as he filled her with his seed.

  He collapsed onto her, laughing.

  “Damn, you are one hell of a lay.”

  She smiled and tried to think of a reply. But she just needed to close her eyes for just a second.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Heather woke. The room was dark except for a thin stream of pre-dawn light coming through a crack in the curtains. She was warm and cozy, her blankets tucked in tight against her. She was sore all over, especially her pussy, which throbbed in time with her heartbeat.

  She smiled.

  She shouldn’t be happy. She was a bad person. She’d cheated on her husband. Given herself to a virtual stranger. A bad, bad person.

  She smiled.

  There would be consequences. If Jeff found out…. When her guilt flared….

  She smiled.

  All of that was for later. For now, all she could think about was the delicious aches she felt, reminders of a night she’d never forget and would always cherish.

  She smiled.

  Her only regret was that Damon was no longer there. She wanted to pull him close, feel his powerful body against hers. She heard the sound of waves crashing. She peered back at the curtains. The sliding door was cracked open, which meant….

  She rose gingerly and wrapped herself in the bed cover against the chilly morning air. She walked to the door and squeezed out onto the balcony. He was there, sitting in a chair, wearing a soft, white bathrobe, staring out toward the eastern sky, just beginning to brighten with the coming sunrise.

  “You’re still here,” she said.

  “I can leave.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m glad you stayed.”

  “Yeah?”

  She dropped the covers, confident, after last night, in her nakedness.

  “You have room in there for me?”

  He grinned and pulled open his bathrobe. She climbed into his lap, straddling him, as he wrapped the thick cotton around them both. She flung her arms around his powerful neck and kissed him hard.

  “No regrets about last night?” he asked.

  “Not a one.”

  She could feel his big prick beneath her. She ground slowly against him, feeling it swell and stiffen.

  “So you had fun?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You have to ask?”

  He chuckled. “Not really. But I’m like you. I just like compliments.”

  She looked him right in the eye. “You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had.”

  He looked scandalized. “Soccer Mom! Language.”

  She kissed him again.

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” he added.

  She blushed.

  He was hard now. She could feel his prick pressing against her pussy. Despite her soreness, she knew she wanted him again. She reach down and held his cock firm as she slowly impaled herself on him.

  “That’ll never grow old,” she sighed.

  They kissed again, a deep, passionate soul kiss. She ground against him. Her sensitive nipples dug into her hard chest. His strong hands kneaded her firm ass. They made love, gently, tenderly as the sun rose slowly over the horizon.

  “Let’s go inside,” she suggested after the sun cleared the horizon.

  “Don’t want to be seen with me?”

  She laughed. “I just don’t want the sun in my eyes.”

  “Uh huh, you just don’t want people to know you have jungle fever.”

  She laughed.

  He rose easily and walked inside, Heather impaled on his prick the whole time. She knew she wasn’t a big girl, but even still, the effortlessness of it was exciting. They approached the bed.

  “I want to be on top,” she said softly.

  “Good. About time you pulled your weight.”

  “Oh, don’t worry baby, you’re going to like this,” she cooed with more bravado than she really felt.

  He settled onto the bed on his back. She pulled her knees beneath her and rose up above him. It was a great view. His handsome face, that confident grin, his powerful chest, and well-defined abs. And God that prick. As she dropped down onto him, he seemed to go even deeper than ever before. She felt again a weird pride that she could handle him. Too bad she’d never be able to brag about the accomplishment to anyone else. It would have to be her own little secret forever.

  He slapped her ass playfully. “I thought you were going to show me a thing or two, not just sit there grinning at some private joke.”

  “You’re a private joke.”

  He chuckled. “It’s lucky you fuck better than you banter.”

  “I do?”

  “Well, not right at the moment.” He spanked her again.

  She laughed. “Fine.”

  She rose up and slowly lowered herself back onto his prick. It was a learning experience. Heather liked to be on top with Jeff, like the way it let him play with her nipples and squeeze her ass. But with Jeff, she was mostly grinding on him. It was nice. She always came. But she’d never really had the sensation of working his cock. With Damon, though, she could get creative.

  She could rise up, higher, higher, until just the tip of his fat cock was still inside her, and then slowly settle back down on him, feeling inch after inch disappear inside her. Short, quick bounces on the top of his cock. Grinding against him with the whole thing inside her. She wondered what it looked like, wished for the first time in her life that someone was filming it so she could see. It must look so sexy seeing his huge prick stretching out her pussy.

  She placed her palms on his powerful chest. They stared into each other’s eyes. She fucked him enthusiastically. His hands explored her body. He pinched her rock hard nipples. His huge hands cupped her ass cheeks and spread them apart so that she could feel the air conditioning on her anus.

  He licked a finger, and then without warning slipped just the tip into her ass.

  “Oh God, what are you doing?” she growled.

  He pressed in deeper.

  “You like it.”

  “Yes,” she sighed.

  It felt so dirty, so wrong. Like when he’d licked her there. And yet, it was delicious. A little painful, but a new feeling. So sensitive. It made her want to fuck him harder, deeper. She ditched the experimentation and settled into a new rhythm, slowly, slowly rising up and then impaling herself hard on his prick. He seemed to like it.

  “That’s it Soccer Mom, fuck my prick.”

  He thrust his finger deeper into her ass and began pumping it in and out.

  She groaned, feeling herself losing control. Her movements became ragged, desperate. Her breaths came in short, harsh gasps. His other hand worked her nipples, squeezing, twisting, pinching them almost painfully. Heather came hard, suddenly. Dizzy, suddenly exhausted, she collapsed onto his chest.

  He thrust upward now. Hard. His big cock plunging into her pussy from beneath. His finger probed deeper into her ass. He grabbed a handful of her hair, lifted her face to his and kissed her passionately. His prick thrust into her pussy, his finger into her ass, his tongue into her mouth. It felt like three men were using her at the same time, but it was just one. Just one powerful man with the ability to possess her completely.

  “I love you,” she gasped.

  “I love you too,” he replied.

  Another hard thrust and then he shivered and she felt him pulsing inside her, filling her again with his hot come.

  They slowly came down, his cock still churning inside her, slower, slower, until t
hey both ground against each other, relishing the sensation of each other’s sweaty bodies.

  The words they’d said, though, hung in the air.

  “Did you mean that?” she asked.

  “Did you?”

  Did she?

  “No, Damon. But I lose it with you. Like I never have with anyone else. At that moment, I did. But no. This is just a fling.”

  “So you just love fucking me?”

  She nodded. It was hard to explain. She loved the way he made her feel. The way nothing existed but them when they were together. The way all her responsibilities disappeared. But that was close enough. It would have to be. “Something like that.”

  “I feel the same,” he replied with a smile.

  She rolled off him.

  “All you have are your evening clothes, right?” she asked.

  “You’re kicking me out?”

  She laughed.

  “Yeah, lover. Time for you to do your walk of shame.”

  “I’m not ashamed of anything.”

  She kissed him. “Me neither.”

  He rose. She watched his naked body. He really was a god. That body, that cock. No one could begrudge her for giving in to temptation. Except for Jeff… although even he…?

  Damon dressed slowly, knowing he was being watched, giving Heather a show.

  “Meet for lunch?” he suggested.

  She brightened. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  He grinned. “Cool. Maybe you can help me pick up some chicks today.”

  She smiled back. “Yeah, I’m your wingman.”

  “Try not to fuck it up this time. You’ve been a total failure so far.”

  He leaned down and gave her a soft kiss.

  “See you at lunch, Soccer Mom.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Heather dozed for an hour or so, but there was so much to do. She needed a new swim suit, and maybe another dress…. She thought about the stack of receipts she’d already racked up. How was she going to explain that to Jeff? The resort was so nice, I had to get dressed up just to go the pool! Would he buy that? Of course. Because Jeff trusted her….