Annual Leave

by Ben Boswell

  “Fuck you,” she hissed.

  He chuckled.

  “I hope people see us. I hope people see what a hot, dirty, little slut you really are.”

  “I’m not,” she gasped.

  “Your asshole is winking at me.”

  She giggled. “What?”

  “Every time I go in, it winks at me. I think it wants a little more attention.”

  “Damon… ugh.”

  “You sure you’re not a slut?”

  He pressed his thumb deep into her still sore butt. He seized a handful of her hair with his other hand and pulled back hard. Heather groaned. Naked, on a public beach, back arched, her small chest thrust forward, nipples hard as pebbles, a thumb in her ass, and a huge black cock pounding her from behind.

  She was a slut. He’d made her into one. Damon with his charm and his smile and his wit and his fucking sexy body. He’d made her into his personal slut.

  “Oh God, you’re right,” she sighed.

  “Come for me slut. Cream all over my dick before I come inside you. Let me know you really want it.”

  “Oh God, Damon, I want it. I really, really want it,” Heather cried out.

  She wanted to come for him. Because she knew he liked it. To prove her devotion. To reward him for the way he made her feel. She wanted to come for him to please him.

  Harder, harder. His crotch now pounding her cheeks. His balls slapping her clit. His thumb, so deep, so deep in her ass.

  “Ugh, ugh, ugh,” she cried out.

  Then suddenly her body seized up. A full body convulsion. He felt her shudder, and he began to groan as well. She could feel him swell inside her and then his huge prick pulsed as he came, filling her yet again with his heavy load.

  She’d have collapsed had he not grabbed her around the waist, holding her up on her knees, hugged into a desperate embrace.

  “Oh Jesus, Soccer Mom, you are something else.”

  She looked over her shoulder. They kissed awkwardly, passionately.

  “You too baby. You too.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Heather was smiling giddily. She was sure anyone seeing her could read her mind and immediately know why. She was grinning like a woman who had recently been well and thoroughly fucked. Even if they couldn’t read her mind, they could surely read her body language. The way she and Damon walked together, holding hands, their bodies swaying against each other, the attraction obvious, yet unhurried, both urgent and recently consummated.

  She was wildly and desperately infatuated with him. She took comfort in that diagnosis. Her ability to recognize it for what it was meant that she wasn’t completely out of control. But at the same time, she knew she was in some sort of denial about the consequences of what she was doing. This had to end badly. There was no other way. And yet the closest she came to that thought was her realization that it had to end.

  She’d had a brief moment of clarity there, on the beach, before they’d waded out into the water to make love… well, okay, fuck in the waves. A brief moment when it had occurred to her that in thirty-six hours, she’d be on her way to the airport and this would be over.

  She’d been spending much of the past six months hoping for time to accelerate. To get Billy out of diapers and into kindergarten. To get to the point where she again had control and freedom over her life. But now, she just wanted time to stop. And, of course, now it seemed to be hurrying along.

  Closing in on midnight, she realized it was closer to thirty-four hours. She still couldn’t bring herself to think about what would happen after. It was hard enough to contemplate that ever-diminishing number.

  They had to sleep. Say six hours a night. Twelve total. So, really, she was down to twenty-two hours with Damon. Both her ass and her pussy were aching pleasantly from his cock, but despite that she knew how she wanted to fill those hours.

  “Can we go back to your place?” she asked suddenly.

  He chuckled softly. “You’re becoming insatiable.”

  She blushed, but she loved the sensation of it. That mix of lust and embarrassment, of anticipation and guilt.

  “Worried you can’t keep up,” she taunted.

  He laughed, louder now. “Yeah, a little. I don’t think I could ever live it down if a soccer mom from….”

  He paused awkwardly mid-sentence.

  “You know,” he continued, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know where you’re from.”

  “Dayton, Ohio. And don’t be sorry. I never mentioned it.”

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “You’re worried that admitting it reminds me that I’m having an affair with a virtual stranger?”

  He nodded.

  She smiled. Despite his gruff exterior, he could be surprisingly sweet.

  “Don’t worry. I’m a big girl. Take me back to your room.”

  He gave her hand a firm squeeze. “I’d love to.”

  ***

  Inside the room, Heather whipped off her dress. It was so thrilling being naked with him, with her lover. Even though he’d had her every which way already, he still looked at her excitedly. He still looked at her like a child looks at a shiny new toy… well, not exactly, but he hadn’t grown tired of her yet. As he stripped off his own shirt, she realized she felt the same. She wanted nothing more than to devour him. She had a wicked thought.

  “I’m covered in sand. Let’s take a shower,” she suggested, taking him by the hand.

  His bathroom, like hers was large, bright, covered in marble, and featured both a two-person Jacuzzi tub and a large separate shower. Heather contemplated the choice for a moment, and then chose the shower… for now. He kicked off his pants, leaving him naked. She adjusted the temperature and then taking a towel with her, she pulled him into the enclosure.

  “What’s that for?” he asked, pointing at the now soaking towel.

  “Padding.”

  “You know, you don’t have to.”

  She folded over the towel and laid it at his feet. She smiled.

  “I know. But I want to. Is that okay?”

  He grinned back but didn’t answer.

  She reached out and palmed his heavy prick. “Is it okay if I suck your cock?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, suck my cock, Soccer Mom.”

  “Yes sir,” she replied.

  She dropped to her knees before him. Face to face with his oversized prick, she couldn’t help but gasp. Even flaccid he was much bigger than Jeff. She knew she couldn’t swallow him whole, but now she wondered if she could fit him into her mouth at all. But she wasn’t there yet anyway.

  She reached out for a bottle of shower gel and squeezed a generous amount into her hands, rubbing them together to create a thick lather. She took her time washing him, lathering up his shaft, his balls. She could feel his cock twitching at the touch of her slippery fingers sliding across his skin.

  She turned him toward the water to rinse him off, and then she began to explore his cock with her tongue. He was uncircumcised, and she wasn’t used to that. She licked at the exposed tip of his cock, and then sucked and licked at the sheath of skin that protected the rest of the head of his prick. She ran her tongue up the length of his shaft, pausing to kiss and suck the bumps, ridges, veins that up close now appeared so prominent. She licked around the base of his prick, dipping low to kiss and suck his heavy balls. She took one at a time into her mouth, gently rolling it around. His hand came to rest on her cheek, a gentle encouragement that let her know she was doing a good job.

  Heather licked up the underside of his shaft. He was noticeably harder now, his veins even more prominent. When she returned to the head, she noticed his foreskin seemed to have receded, exposing even more of his cockhead. Pumping his shaft up and down with her fist, she gradually revealed the rest of his glans. She swirled her tongue around the base of his cockhead, sensing its sensitivity, and relishing how his prick responded, twitching and continuing to swell and stiffen.

  She rocked back on her heels and stroked his ha
rd shaft. She couldn’t close her hands around it anymore. She marveled at the size of it, and even more at the fact that she’d taken it inside her, and not just in her pussy, but her ass as well. A few days ago, a prick like this would have terrified her. Now she understood the pleasure it could bring, and she couldn’t wait to have it inside her again… but not yet. Not until she’d sucked him dry.

  She rose back up and took the head of his cock into her mouth. Even that nearly made her gag and she didn’t dare try to swallow more. Instead, she bobbed up and down on the head, licking and swirling her tongue around his spongy glans. She stroked him fast, hand over hand, like a sailor working a line. And then she looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. She could only imagine the image she presented. On her knees, mouth stretched wide around a huge, black, prick, pumping him frantically in a way that left no doubt what she wanted.

  And she did want it. Shockingly. It was something she’d never done. Never allowed a man to finish in her mouth. It had always seemed disgusting, demeaning, and definitely unnecessary. But at that moment, it was all Heather desired. She wanted to satisfy him that way. Please him. And if she’d never done it before, so much the better, because Damon made her feel the way no man had before. Not just physically, but psychologically. He made her feel desirable. Sexy. And more. Wanton. Lewd. He’d touched a side of her that she hadn’t even known existed, given her an experience more erotic than anything she’d ever even fantasized about.

  “Oh God, Soccer Mom, you’re so fucking hot,” he moaned.

  He was close. She could feel it in the increasing pressure he placed on the back of her head, the way his cock twitched. She wanted to taste him. She let his cock slip from her mouth, but kept it wide open, resting his heavy cock on her tongue. She stroked him harder, hard enough that she worried about hurting him, but his moans of pleasure let her know she wasn’t, that instead, it was just right.

  He grunted. She felt his jism, hot, thick, and slimy shoot into her mouth, coating her tongue. It was disgusting, but she loved it. She continued to stroke him, wanting it all. Another spurt, still copious. And then another and another, until she was sure he’d come a gallon. Never breaking eye contact, she closed her mouth and swallowed his load, and when she had, she went right back to sucking his cock, licking every last drop of come as it dripped from his slowly softening prick.

  The look on his face was priceless. Surprise, excitement, appreciation, admiration. He helped her to her feet and hugged her close.

  “That was amazing, Heather.”

  She molded her body to his, relishing the sensation of the hot water flowing over her even as she relished the hardness of his physique. The slimy, salty taste in her mouth, combined with lingering soreness in her pussy and ass, serving as an unmistakable reminder that she’d given him all she had to offer, that she would deny him nothing.

  She cooed happily as she felt him drip shampoo on her head and begin lathering up her hair. She let him wash her from head to toe, a surprisingly tender affair, conveying gratitude and affection.

  “We better get out of here, I’m starting to prune up,” he said as he finished up.

  “I didn’t think that happened to your people.”

  “Ha ha, Soccer Mom. Now get your ass into bed. I didn’t clean you up just to be nice, you know.”

  Heather giggled. She realized that in addition to making her all gooey inside, he also had her constantly laughing and giggling. It felt nice.

  They hurriedly dried themselves and Damon conspicuously stripped the covers off the bed, leaving just a wide expanse of white sheet on which to perform. He yanked away her towel and playfully shoved her onto the mattress. She turned around to look at him. Naked, splayed out, she made no move to cover her nudity.

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he dropped his own towel. Heather’s eyes were immediately drawn to his thick, dangling cock.

  “You can’t get enough, can you?” he teased.

  “I can’t,” she admitted, seriously.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll get it, but first, I need to make you scream.”

  Her stomach fluttered, and she flinched as he descended upon her. Her squeak of surprise turned into a throaty growl as his mouth found her shaved pussy, licking her deeply.

  He made her scream, over and over. First just with his tongue probing deep into her juicy snatch. Then fingerbanging her hard, two fingers in her pussy, two more in her ass he sucked her hard, sensitive clit into her mouth. And again, on her hands and knees, as he ate her ass from behind.

  She cried out in passion. She begged him to stop. She tried to push him away. But he was remorseless, relentless, reducing her to blurry-eyed, quivering, sweaty mass on the bed. And when he finally rolled her onto her back and sank his huge prick into her drenched twat, she sighed in delicious relief.

  He engulfed her. Thrusting hard inside her, their bodies pressed together. He wrapped one arm beneath her shoulder, pulling her to him, as they kissed desperately. His other arm snaked beneath her, his hand palming her ass, middle finger wedged into her crack, teasing her anus.

  Heather reddened as she realized how loud she was being, gasping into his mouth, her pussy squishing wetly as he fucked her. But she couldn’t help herself.

  “Oh God, Damon. Oh God!”

  Pinpricks on her skin. Sweat dripping into her eyes. Lightheaded.

  “Tell me you want it.”

  “Oh God, Damon. I want it! I want it all.”

  “What?”

  “Anything, Damon. Oh God! Everything. I’m yours.”

  “My what?”

  Heather couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t imagine what he wanted her to say. And then it just came out.

  “I’m your whore.”

  He grunted in excitement. “Fuck yeah, Soccer Mom. You’re my slutty…”

  A vicious thrust. She cried out.

  “Dirty…”

  Again.

  “Whore.”

  Another rough thrust. Heather squealed in delight.

  He fucked her like that, brutally, punctuating each stroke with the mantra.

  “Slutty… Dirty… Whore.”

  “Yeah, Damon, yeah, fuck your slutty, dirty whore.”

  “Slutty… Dirty… Whore.”

  “Come in my slutty, dirty, whore cunt.”

  “Slutty! Dirty! Whore!” he bellowed.

  His cock swelled and pulsed inside her. She could feel him coming. She could imagine his hot seed flooding her pussy. It was too much. With a strangled gasp, she too came yet again.

  He rolled off her and lay beside her panting. She felt his hand reach out for hers. He gave her a squeeze. She looked over at him, sweaty, panting.

  “You okay?” He asked.

  She laughed. “Of course. Jesus. You have to ask?”

  “I mean, about the….”

  “Slutty, dirty, whore stuff?”

  “Yeah.”

  She nodded. “I could never have imagined those words coming out of my mouth before. But yeah, it was just in the moment, right?”

  He grinned. “Well, you are my slutty, dirty, whore.”

  She reached over and slapped his chest.

  “Oh sure, now you show your violent side,” he protested.

  She stared at the ceiling, smiling.

  “Do you do this to all the girls?”

  He didn’t answer. She looked over at him.

  “What do you mean?”

  She smiled to reassure him. “No, I’m not looking for you to tell me I’m special–“

  “You are special,” he interrupted.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I mean, do the other women you’re with…. Do you make them lose their minds too?”

  “I like to think women enjoy their time with me.”

  “That’s not what I mean. I mean, you make me crazy. I can’t see straight. Can’t think straight. You just finished inside me, and even though I’m sore all over… even my a
bs ache from how hard they contract when you make me come… even still, all I can think about is having you again.”

  He laughed. “We do have a weird chemistry, don’t we?”

  “So it’s not just me?”

  “No… I mean yes.” He chuckled. “No, in the sense that I feel it too. Yes, in the sense that most women don’t react like you do.”

  “Why do you think that is?” she asked.

  “Why do you think it is?”

  She resisted the temptation to call him on answering a question with a question.

  “Well, for me, I think it’s that you’re the first man who’s made me feel really and truly sexual. It’s… it’s hard to explain, you know. And also, you’re like the first man who isn’t, like, grateful –“

  “Believe me Soccer Mom, I am.”

  She grinned. “Maybe, but you don’t make me feel like I’m doing you a favor.”

  He nodded.

  “Now your turn,” she prompted.

  He paused. “You’re hot.”

  Heather rolled her eyes.

  “I know,” he continued. “There are, I guess, hotter women out there. But you’re such a tight, little thing. And you’re so responsive. God, you’re like a rocket the way you go off. And….”

  He hesitated.

  “Go ahead,” she encouraged.

  “Well, I know this is going to make me look like a shit, but I like I said before I like that you’re married.”

  A laugh. “Oh, right, the whole other man’s woman thing. God, you guys are so fucking competitive.”

  He shrugged. “Makes me feel like I’m getting away with something. And, I guess, I also like that you seem so innocent.”

  “Not anymore!”

  “Exactly. Turns me on to know that I’m the first to get into that tight little ass. I am the first, right?”

  “Uh huh. But why is that hot?”

  “Think of it, Soccer Mom. Every man you’ve met since you were about fifteen has fantasized about getting his dick in there –“

  “They have not!”

  “They have too. Believe me. Young men, old men, construction workers, teachers, whatever, they’ve checked out your cute little ass and dreamed about bending you over and buttfucking you.”