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My car didn’t start, so I couldn’t take her out on the date. After calling her and apologizing profusely I wandered back out to my car to try to figure out what was wrong with it. Now it took a while to open the hood, but once I did, I looked at my car engine for the first time in my life. I remember watching an old movie where there was a gas station attendant who really came out and pumped the gas into the car. He also checked the oil by pulling out some long stick of a thing, wiping it off, pushing it back down into the engine and then pulling it out again.

After a bit of exploration I found something that pulled out of my engine, and the black gunk at the end of it seemed like what my impression of what oil should look like, so I wiped it off, pushed it back into the engine and then pulled in out again. Yeah there was oil on the end, so I figured the oil was okay. I did notice a few pretty icons on some different caps and stuff, so I spotted a place to put the oil if I ever needed oil. I then slammed down the hood and tried to start the car again.

Well it didn’t start, so I was back where I started. I called my date again and explained that I worked on the car and couldn’t get it working. bostancı escort She said she didn’t know I could work on cars and I said yeah sometimes I work on cars. I guess I should have been truthful and said once instead of sometimes. Either way, I was stuck and it looked like I wasn’t going to do a thing. It looked like nothing was going to happen the whole damn evening.

Retuning to my room I flopped down on my couch and began thinking about the things that weren’t going to happen. Well, first of all, it was Saturday, so my car wasn’t getting fixed, so I wasn’t going to be able to pick up my date and we weren’t going to be able to go to dinner or see the movie. Since we weren’t going to see the movie, I would not cleverly slide my arm around her shoulder and as the movie got boring, I wasn’t going to slide my hand over lightly brushing against her breast.

With my hand not slightly brushing against her breast, she wouldn’t move her arm some giving me a better access to her breast. My hand wouldn’t move over and gently knead her soft breast and my palm wouldn’t feel the nipple harden beneath it. Would my hand slip into her shirt and sneak beneath her bra? sancaktepe escort No, that was impossible now.

We wouldn’t finish the movie locking in a heavy kiss, my tongue not slipping between her lips and toying with her tongue. No, my cock would not get hard and she wouldn’t slip her hand down along my thigh and I’d miss her gently clasping my cock, squeezing it a bit. Her whispered suggestion that we go back to her apartment to “talk” would never be spoken, I’d never hear her breath quicken as I ran my hand along her thigh.

Her apartment door wouldn’t open so the two of us could step inside and begin kissing immediately. My fingers would not deftly unbutton her blouse, only to falter a bit trying to unhook her bra, so she never will unhook the bra for me, leaning her breasts forward as I take them in my hand and hold them. My lips will never feel the texture of her soft skin and the tiny goose bumps that appeared after I sucked her nipples for a while.

The book would remain undisturbed on the table as we didn’t bang it moving to the couch. I wouldn’t see her beautiful naked body because she’d never decide to leave the light on and I just would zeytinburnu escort not smell the earthy fragrance as I moved my head between her thighs. Nothing happened, so I don’t remember how she tasted and I can’t catch a wisp of her fragrance on my shirt now.

My tongue remained in my mouth instead of sliding slowly up and down between her lips before finding her clit. Her hips would not rise up and down as I sucked her clit and my fingers would never slip deep into her pussy, feeling the wet warmth of her. I’d never hear her moan just as she came and no fingers of mine would be squeezed while inside her.

I couldn’t move my knees between her legs and lean over her. My cock sliding gently into her pussy? No way, won’t happen, because fucking nothing happens. No fucking, no nothing. My balls wouldn’t slap against her ass as I thrust myself deep inside her and none of my cum would shoot hot and sticky into her cunt.

We wouldn’t whisper quietly as my cock slowly softened and that cock will never slip out of her pussy, glistening in our cum. I wouldn’t get up and slip on my clothes and kiss her goodbye. On my drive home I wouldn’t wonder if I should have spent the night, I wouldn’t wonder if perhaps we were moving too fast, or too slow, or if we should have used a condom. I wouldn’t feel bad about not calling her back or about trying to hit it off with her roommate, or sister or mother. No absolutely none of that would occur, because my care wouldn’t start and because of that nothing happens.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

It’s late, nearly 11, on an early November night. The chill on the platform of the Hamburg train station is penetrating, a damp, German cold that soaks up through the soles of your shoes, no matter how stout, and ends up in your bones. The cold air is only accentuating the typical train station smell–that smell of electricity, cigarettes, cinders, cheap food, all lightly overlaid with the weariness of travelers. They’re waiting for the night express to Paris and as they wait, they size each other up, hands thrust deep in coat pockets, and noses buried in mufflers. Who will they end up sharing a compartment with tonight? Whose snores or cries in the night will they hear before they find themselves in the City of Light in the morning light? That man over, there, the one hastily consuming a Bratwurst, before the train arrives, is he going to be a companion of the night? Or the woman who is smoking unfiltered Gauloises, is she going to end up scenting the air you have to breathe? And whom would you choose, given the choice? Go the safe route, and hope for the matron in the loden coat, or be a bit racier, and wish for the slender, dark-haired man, wearing a dark trench?

The headlights of the train finally appear, well before schedule, to the relief of all. Bags are gathered up, purses hoisted onto shoulders, snacks and magazines tucked away, cigarettes extinguished. A general bracing of shoulders takes place; train travel is still at least a little athletic, and some small degree of preparation is necessary. L. sighs, pulls her coat straight, picks up her red bag, and sizes up the crowd for the door she’s waiting near. It doesn’t matter anyway, she has an assigned berth, but she still wonders. She checks her ticket one more time, to make sure she knows where she’s going, and then, with the usual hiss and screech, the train pulls in, the doors open and the passengers begin to enter.

She’s sprung for a two-person berth, but saved a bit of cash by not specifying the sex of her berth-mate. (To share a compartment with another woman costs more. She’s willing to take her chances on her ability to defend herself, if it comes to that, and if it really comes to that, on her ability to pull the brake cord). After 30 years of travel on German trains, off and on, she’s aware that it’s a crap shoot, she can get anyone from a shy teenager to a sodden businessman, but since she’s only planning on sleeping, she’s not too concerned.

Into the train, down the corridor, checking numbers against her ticket. Three cars on, this is the place, 47, her home for the night. Oh, and she’s reached it before her partner for the night, one M. Kuhn. Well, there’s a name that doesn’t say much, it could be anyone. What has she been assigned, top or bottom? She sincerely hopes for the bottom, since the notion of crawling over someone in the night en route to the bathroom is less than appealing. Ah, yes, it is the bottom, how nice, she’s hit the jackpot. Her coat hung up in the tiny closet, she removes her necessities–passport, toothbrush, what will be her pajamas for the night. As she’s doing this, the door opens, and the man in the trench coat from the platform enters. She greets him in German, only to receive a blank and somewhat nervous stare. She asks him, again in German, if he’s Mr. Kuhn, and only at the sound of his name does his face clear at least a little.

“Do you speak English?” he asks. “I have a German name, but I don’t speak any German.” He is really exceptionally attractive–warm brown eyes, black hair flecked with silver, and a truly winning smile.

She smiles back, almost in spite of herself, it being her practice to hold back as much as possible in situations like this, and says, “Well, in fact, I’m American, too.” He looks at once relieved and as though he wants to seem too cool to need to be relieved, and asks how the whole thing with the sleeping compartment works. He is extremely engaging, and she finds herself in laughing conversation with him.

The train begins to move as L. is saying, “So, we have a couple of options now–we can leave the seats as they are, and sit here and peruse our respective reading matter. We can make the seats into berths, say goodnight and climb into them, and then listen to each other breathe until we fall asleep, or we can go to the dining car and see if they have any wine for us.” She can’t believe those words came out of her mouth–she’s not in the habit of even semi-propositioning strange men on trains, but old M. Kuhn here seems to bring it out in her. As she watches him consider the options, she hardly breathes, so anxious is she for him to choose three. Or even two. Or one, for that matter, because no matter what, she realizes, with an internal giggle, he’s hers for the night.

“The dining car thing sounds good,” he says, finally, with a smile playing about his excellently cut mouth, “but maybe we can find some beer. I’m really not much for wine.” She allows as how he might be in the right country, and, after stashing their luggage, istanbul escort heads down the swaying corridor.

As they totter along, bracing themselves against the movement of the train, L. manages to glance out the window. They are passing the docks, with all the lights of the ships, and of the bridges. She tugs at his sleeve to stop, and made him look at them as the train rocked past. “Hamburg is one of the great ports of Germany,” she tells him, “and one of the old Hansa cities.” Then she realizes that not everyone shares her passion for the poetry of industry, and, shaking her head, says, “and I’m sure you’re infinitely more interested in getting a beer.” He smiles warmly at her, and assures her that anything he could learn was good, but added that, yes, a beer would be nice and they could still look at the lights from there.

The dining car us open till midnight, and two beers are speedily served. And then there they are, two strangers on a train, sitting opposite each other, with nothing to do but drink and talk, with the knowledge that they would be spending the whole night together between them.

L. had once been shy, but has long since decided that it was a luxury she could no longer afford, so she sets about drawing him out. M. Kuhn (she still doesn’t know his first name) has clearly never been shy a day in his life, and doesn’t take much drawing out. In fact, his barrage of questions remind her of nothing so much as a six-year-old, just discovering the world, and wanting to know EVERYTHING.

L. has something of a horror of hearing her own voice going on and on, and so she is indeed horrified to hear herself announcing that her husband was killed in an industrial accident, her children were grown and leading their own lives, and so she had taken her settlement and moved to Stade, a town she had loved her whole life, and was attempting to write a novel there. In fact, she’s so horrified that she closes her mouth with a snap and says, “And now tell me how you came to be on this train.”

He looks abashed. This is a man who asks the questions, not one who answers them, but she sees something click in his head and understands that he’s decided to tell the truth, no matter how jumbled, odd and difficult that might be.

He was recently divorced, he tells her, after nearly twenty years of marriage. A fairly acrimonious divorce, he adds, and leaves it at that. When it was finally done, he wanted to do something he’d never done before, so he decided to look into his own past. Not his own past, exactly, but the past of his family.

“I’m Jewish,” he said to her, earnestly. “Every Jew in the world wants to go to Israel, and so do I, but one of my cousins is into genealogy, and when I asked her, she said that our family had lived in Germany for nearly 400 years before they came to America. So I decided to go there first.” She asks if he found anything, and he says not much, there was not much to be found, but that it was interesting anyway.

“But that didn’t get you onto the night train to Paris,” she says.

“I’m going to Paris to spend a little time by myself,and then my children are going to come meet me and we’ll having Thanksgiving in Paris.” He pauses, takes a drink of his beer, then says, “Their mother isn’t very happy about that, but she wasn’t very happy for the last 15 years, so I’m used to it. Why are you going to Paris?”

“To meet an old friend,” she tells him, and wonders why he looks marginally less twinkly. Even telling the story of his divorce hadn’t taken the glow out of his eyes quite the way that did. “Oh!” she says. “A girlfriend. One of my oldest friends is in Paris on business, and I’m going to spend a long weekend with her.” He has an “Ah!” look on his face, but neither one of them can think of a thing to say for the moment.

As L. is casting about for something to say, she notices the waiter, who is standing with his arms crossed, giving them the international, I’m glad you’re having fun, but I have work to do look. “I think he wants us to leave,” she tells M. Kuhn, then says, “What’s your first name, anyway?”

“Matt. My name is Matt. First find out if the waiter will sell us some more beer to take back with us to the compartment, and then tell me your name.”

“I don’t think there’s a soul in Germany who’s not willing to sell you beer at any hour of the day or night,” she tells him, “and my name is Liz.”

Armed with four more bottles of beer, and two beer glasses–the waiter insisted, so pleased was he to be getting rid of them–they head back to the compartment. This time, she fancies, Matt is staying a bit closer to her. The train is on a long, smooth section of track, so there’s not a lot of swaying, but there is some accidental touching and bumping anyway. She feels rather as though she imagines a dog who chases cars might, if he caught one: I’ve got him, now what do I do with him?

The berths are not yet folded avcılar escort down, so they can still sit up and drink. As they sit, he pours the beers for both, then finds the switch to lower the lights in the compartment. “It’s nicer like this,” he says. “And we can look at the lights outside as they go by.”

With the lights out, it’s easier to talk. His voice is warm and deep, and she finds herself thinking, I could wrap that voice around me just like a blanket. They talk about everything, it seems….their childhoods, their children, American politics, the funny things that happened to him as an American in Germany with a German name, but no German comprehension.

It’s 12:30 and the beer is gone. “They wake us up at about 7:30,” she tells him, and reaches for the glasses and bottles at the same time he does. Their hands touch, and neither one of them pulls away. In the half-light, he holds her gaze, and then slips his hand over hers. It’s big and warm and feels very familiar, somehow.

“Let’s just sit a little longer,” he says, and so they do, holding hands in a sleeper compartment of a German train en route to Paris.

Time has passed. Five minutes? Ten minutes? His hand has moved, and he’s now caressing the inside of her wrist, something that feels amazingly seductive. Her heart is pounding–what now? What on earth do you do now? Make love with a stranger? Pull your hand away as though shocked? Lean over and kiss him? Her whole being feels centered in her wrist and between the beer, the late hour, the steady rhythm of the train on the tracks and her amazement that this is happening at all, she feels quite disoriented. Things like this don’t happen to me, she thinks. I was going to meet Sarah in Paris, stuff myself on croissants, walk miles and giggle like a teenager, I wasn’t going to meet a tall, dark stranger on the night train. That doesn’t happen.

“Things like this don’t happen to me,” she hears him say, and he stands up, not letting go of her hand, and pulls her to him. It’s harder than it seems, to hug someone on a train, let alone someone who is little more than a stranger.

“Not to me either,” she says, “but it’s happening now, to us.”

“Yup,” he says, rather prosaically, and then kisses her.

A knock at the door interrupts them, and he looks very startled and slightly guilty, as though he’s been caught at something. It’s the conductor, wanting to turn the seats to beds. Liz tells him to come in. He does so. They step out into the corridor while he works his magic. Neither one of them knows quite what to say, or to do with themselves. As he leaves, he looks them both up and down, touches the brim of his hat and says, “Now get on with what you were doing,” and winks. They look at each other with smothered grins, and step back into the compartment.

It’s a bedroom now, amazingly enough. The seats are gone, and there are bunk beds, with real sheets and plaid blankets and pillows, and it has that industrial bed-linen smell, too. Now what?

He answers that question by pulling her to him again, and murmuring against her hair, before he kisses her again, “How convenient.” And then it’s as though nothing had happened at all, he’s kissing her again, and she’s loving it. He slides his hand under her sweater at the back, rubbing up and down her bare skin, and then moves it around to the front and to her breast. She pulls her mouth slightly away from him and traces his bottom lip with her tongue. It’s his turn to moan. Emboldened by this, she moves on to that most sensitive spot, where the jawbone ends, just below the ear, and begins to lick and gently suck there. A sharp exhalation tells her she’s doing it right. The exhalation and the way his hand tightens over her breast.

Then it’s his turn to pull away, and say, “Take off your shoes. And put your jewelry on the table, so I don’t end up swallowing an earring or something.” To her surprise, she enjoys being ordered like this, so she does it. He takes his own shoes off, and then sort of indicates that she should get into the berth.

“What are we doing?” she asks, confused.

He looks exasperated and says, “I’m not making out standing up all night long if there’s a bed. And I’m trying to be a gentleman and let you in first so if we take sharp curve you don’t fall out–!”

The light dawns, and she climbs in, and he follows. There’s the usual awkwardness of arms and legs, and then they relax into the pure luxury of what’s happening. They’re still fully clothed, but negotiating undressing at this point is more than either of them feel capable of. They begin kissing again, neither one of them initiating it this time, and now, relaxed, lying down, with the rhythm of the train working for them instead of against them, it feels less urgent, and much more sensual. When he slips his tongue into her mouth again, she begins sucking on it hard, taking it as deep as she can and he participates fully by moving it in and out. Tongues get tired, şirinevler escort though, so they move on to other, less vigorous lingual activities.

She traces the length of his neck, ending at his collarbone, which requires a bit of rummaging, so he obligingly takes off his shirt. Now she’s able to trail her tongue down his chest, flicking at a nipple, then returning there for more than a flick and then going back up to his mouth.

This time he’s voracious. She feels as though she’s being consumed, and she clings to him for dear life. He’s trying to get her sweater off her, and she helps him, thanking God as she does so that a trip to Paris has inspired her to wear matching underwear and to shave her legs. Her sweater gone, for a moment, he runs his hands up and down her bare back, then is clearly annoyed by the barrier of her bra, so he unhooks it, one-handed. (Shades of the Fonz). She disentangles herself from it, thinking not for the first time, that it is as undignified to get out of as it is useful. His hands close over the soft abundance of her breasts, his thumbs caressing her nipples. Her moan is so heart-felt that he whispers, with some urgency, “Did I hurt you?”

“NO,” she answers, “just go on…”

She’s in it now, there’s no going back, no saying, I think you were mistaken about what this night was going to be like, no pretending to be a virtuous widow, or whatever it was that she thought she might end up doing. She wants more, she wants to be greedy and wallow in skin and scents and textures and feelings, she wants to pounce and be pounced upon, she wants to rush, then linger, then rush…and maybe scratch and bite a little while she’s at it. She feels herself trying to pour all of this into Matt’s head, because for one thing, her mouth is occupied, and for another, she can barely remember where she is or why, much less make a coherent thought. He must have caught on to something, or he’s thinking the same thing, because suddenly, his voice is in her ear, so close that it buzzes,

“Tell me you want me to do everything…say it, say, do it all, Matthew.” Whoa, what? Okay, fine.

“Do it all, Matthew,” she says in a voice that would have made Linda Lovelace proud. Except she’s not acting.

“I hope we never get to Paris,” he says.

In the spirit of more, she reaches down to undo his pants. Buckle, button, zipper. She has always loved the sound of a man’s belt buckle being undone…it’s definitely intimate, you don’t undo your belt in front of just anyone, and it promises such good things. It’s like the sound of the bow being undone on a package. She manages to unfasten it, and hears the welcome “clink” as metal hits metal.

“Go on?” she whispers.

“Of course,” he answers, somewhat urgently. So she does. Ah… she traces with her hand what she finds there, more than pleased with the measure of the man.

It’s been a while for this, too, and a long, long time with anyone other than her husband. New territory, then. She wound her hand around, and then slid it up and down…ah….how nice. A visit to the boys, also nice, but all this still relatively chastely through his boxer briefs. And she’s half-naked, but wearing a skirt, and that feels very overdressed right now. “Hold on,” she whispers, and performs the complicated maneuver of getting out of a skirt and pantyhose in a train bunk, with another person. It works, though, she’s down to her underwear, and inspired, he takes off his pants.

It feels amazing, warm skin on warm skin, scent and texture, and more than anything, closeness. No wonder a euphemism for sex is “being intimate”, this feels more intimate than anything she’s ever done, including what had been a perfectly adequate married sex life. Their hands are sliding everywhere on each other, their mouths are everywhere. She starts licking her way down one of his arms, pausing at the crook of the elbow, sucking and kissing there for a while, then moves down the length of his forearm, and to his hand. Slowly, leisurely, she takes each of his fingers in her mouth and slowly sucks on them, and then moves back up.

He’s inflamed, electrified, he’s not being rough, but he’s certainly not being overly gentle. And that’s fine. Right now she’s intoxicated by his very maleness, by the flat angularity of him, by the scrape of his beard, by the feel of his muscles. And by his big hands, which are, in fact, gentle, occupied as they are now, somewhere indeed very intimate.

The train stops. It startles them both, the cessation of motion, and they cling to each other more tightly, if that’s possible. There’s a definite feeling that they might get caught, unlikely as that is, and then a sudden feeling of naughtiness. Because here they are, naked, or nearly, in a train berth, while other passengers tramp down the corridor, sighing and muttering, and looking for their own homes for the next hours. “If only they knew,” she whispers, and this strikes them both funny somehow, and so there they are, clinging to each other, stifling their laughter on each other’s shoulders.

When the train starts again (mercifully!) he goes on with what he was doing, and then for her it’s not enough, just his hand, no matter what, is not enough, so she begins tugging at the waistband of his underwear. “Are you sure?” he asks, “because we don’t have to, if you’re not sure.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

This is part 2 in the New Guy in Town series. again let me know what you think.

* * * * *

Meghan led me down the hall by the crotch, my sight was blurred either by the alcohol or perhaps the brain melting orgasm I had just experienced moments earlier during our elevator ride. My mind cleared long enough to realize that we were walking down my hallway, and then I saw my door as I was pulled past it. We came to a sudden stop at the next door. Meghan turned back to me her eyes sparkling with unbridled lust. She pulled a key from her pocket and leapt into my arms. Our lips met with a loud smack, and parted immediately as our tongues tangled together in a way that was becoming blissfully familiar. I felt her hands wrap around my neck pulling me deeper into her kiss, and her legs wrap around my waist molding herself to my body. She pressed a key into my hand, never breaking our kiss. I hooked my right forearm under her ass, and slid the key into the lock. The door slid open without a noise and I awkwardly walked into Meghan’s darkened apartment, with her clinging to me for dear life.

Meghan’s right hand reached out blindly and flipped the light switch. Our kiss lost some of its urgency, and degraded into soft pecks before she pulled back with a smile, unwrapped herself from me and let herself down. She smiled sheepishly as she turned and walked across the living room.

“Welcome to my apartment.” She said, all the while busying herself with a very large stereo system.

I reached back and shut the door. I walked slowly over to where she stood with her back to me and planted a soft kiss on the back of her neck. She groaned softly, and reached back to run her hand through my hair.

“Go sit down on the couch, baby, I’ve got a surprise.” she whispered.

I turned and walked over to the couch and sat down. I had no idea what to expect in the way of a surprise but I’m not one to argue with a beautiful woman. A few moments later music began esenyurt escort to fill the room. I recognized it instantly. Marvin Gaye’s “Lets Get It On.” She turned to face me, a devilish grin spreading across her angelic face. She began to dance with the music her hips swaying in time with beat. I was mesmerized. Meghan then began to run her hands over her chest very slowly, her palms ran in ragged circles around her tiny breasts, occasionally stopping long enough to pinch at her nipples. She took a few steps toward me and thrust her hands into her crotch. She threw her head back with a moan, and rubbed gently against her hand.

She opened her eyes and gazed at me. Her intent was clear, she was going to get me wound up and then fuck me until I couldn’t walk straight. She sashayed over to my position on the couch and pushed me back. She straddled my lap and continued her intoxicating lap dance. Her hands began to run over her legs, and back over her crotch, she laid her head against my shoulder as she roughly masturbated through her pants. My hand moved to relieve her of her duties, but it was met with her hand putting it back where it had come from.

“No touching.” she whispered into my ear as she continued to grind against herself. Her hands soon pulled away from her crotch and slid up and under her shirt, I could plainly see her hands moving around under tight top. They settled on her breasts in unison. This show was quickly becoming too much for my senses. My cock was a rigid beast begging for release from the confines of my pants. She began to grind her crotch against mine and her eyes flew open.

“Looks like someone’s excited.” she said with a laugh.

“You have no idea.” I gasped out with shortened breath.

Her hands shot up grabbed her shirt and pulled it off, flinging it across the room in the process. She now sat on my lap in a beautiful blue lace bra. I had had enough. I picked her up and set her back avrupa yakası escort on the couch as gently as possible. My hands flew to the button of her pants, and in less than a second they were unsnapped and in a heap on the floor. She lay in front of me, the most gorgeous creature I had ever laid eyes on, and mine for the taking. I slid down between her legs and planted a gentle kiss on the side of her knee. I lifted her leg slightly and kissed the back of her knee. I felt a shudder run through her body. My hands slid up her chest as I allowed my mouth to work its magic on her knees and calves. I blindly unsnapped her bra, and she leaned up pulled it off and tossed it across the room. I leaned forward onto her, our lips met again, but this time only once. I had bigger fish to fry. I slowly worked my way down her neck leaving a trail of gentle kisses along the way. I kissed my way into the valley between her tiny breasts. They were beautiful not quite a handful, topped with the smallest cherry red nipples. I circled back and kissed the underside of her breasts, slowly taking her body to ecstasy.

“Oh my God, Jon, you are making me so wet.” she cooed as she tried in vain to grind her crotch against anything at all.

I took her left nipple in my mouth and sucked hard. Meghan gasped. My hand groped for her crotch. She was soaked. My hand found the side of her panties and slid in the side, all the while my mouth moved from her left to right nipple and back again. She was going wild in my arms, when I slid a finger gently over her clit. Her back arched hard, knocking my mouth from her nipple, but managing to drive my finger into her wet snatch.

“Jon, I can’t take it anymore. Please make me cum.” she panted, her face flushed from a million near orgasms.

My hands grabbed the top of her panties roughly, I looked up at her face, smiled and tore them in half. I tossed them anadolu yakası escort across the room, and got down to business. Her musk flooded my nostrils. There is no smell more enticing than that of an aroused woman. I buried my face in her pussy, lapping and sucking at her lips, trying to get as much of her juices onto my tongue as possible. It proved impossible as the harder I lapped at her, the more she oozed. She began to shake violently and I knew her orgasm was on the way. I grabbed her hips and pulled them into my face. My tongue snaked upwards and flicked over her clit.

“Oh Shit, I’M CUMMMMING!” Meghan let loose a scream that would wake the dead. Her juices shot out and covered my face. I had no intention of stopping until I was satisfied. I buried my face deeper into her crotch and began to work on her second orgasm. It didn’t take long.

“OHHHH GOD ANOTHER ONE.” She whispered this time as her body tensed, and sweat beaded onto her pale skin. I kept my oral workings up until she had had a third and a fourth orgasm. After her fourth orgasm, she grabbed me by the hair, and pulled me away from her dripping pussy.

“That was amazing, but I want you to fuck me, NOW.” she begged, her face flushed from orgasm. That was all I needed to hear. In no time at all, I was naked standing in front of her, my penis pointing straight at her wet hole. I climbed onto the couch between her thighs and lay the head of my cock between her lips. I slid my hard 7 inches in slowly at first, but began to build up speed as she thrust her hips violently against me in an effort to get more into her. She was screaming louder than before and I was amazed that the neighbors hadn’t tried to beat down the door. I leaned forward to plant a kiss on her soft lips as I continued to pound on her. She looked directly into my eyes and mouthed.

“Cum for me, I wanna feel you cum.”

That was all I needed to hear. I felt my balls tighten and the semen begin to rush up my shaft. I pressed into her as hard as I could burying my shaft in her. That’s the exact moment when my orgasm hit. I had never cum so hard before. Every time I thought that it might be nearing its end it just kept going. It felt like an eternity before I finally came down. I looked down at Meghan and smiled. We fell asleep in each others arms.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

It seemed days later when they reluctantly pulled apart. Breathing hard, Narcissa caressed his cheek again. “I love you, Jack. I suppose I always knew it, but fought against it. Yet, here it is. Thank you for being you, my sweet man. Thank you for loving me and waiting for me and finally finding me. Don’t wait any longer. Love me tonight, Jack.”

Jack hardly needed an invitation to do what he had wanted for so long. He turned to her in the bed, totally against her, and held her close. He had enough of his wits about him to worry about her knee, but it was difficult for him, he wanted only to hold her close and never let her go. The absolute joy of holding her was enough for him, at least for a little while. He felt her against him, inhaled the essence of her, knowing that this was meant to be only the first of a lifetime of caresses. His mouth moved to hers, covering her, consuming her. His tongue washed over her sweet lips, tracing and learning them, a starving man finally finding sustenance. His tongue flirted with hers, teasing, inviting. She lost herself in the sensation of surrendering to him, imagining other surrenders, other invasions.

Jack finally pulled himself away from her mouth. He had wanted her for so long, so much, and now he was with her. His dreams and fantasies were about to be fulfilled. It was Christmas morning and every birthday he had ever had. He loved her, with all his heart and soul. Now he could tell her, show her. Now he could share with her all that was his. He felt so good, he wanted to laugh out loud, tell the world that he loved Narcissa Valentine and that she loved him.

In his happiness, he almost forgot that she was in his arms. Almost. Then she shifted the tiniest bit, bringing her body flush with his, and he remembered. Every fiber of his being remembered. But something was wrong. Suddenly, he knew what it was. There were too many layers of clothing between them! They had gone to sleep fully clothed and now he wanted, no, needed, the clothing gone.

He turned Narcissa in the bed, until she was lying on her back, watching him. Then he knelt beside her, adoring her. Without a word, he began to undress his love. He pulled the shirt over her head, marveling at the beauty of her, the way her skin seemed to glow, even in the moonlit room. The pink shorts, that appeared to fit her as a second skin, slid easily down her legs. He carefully moved them past her bandaged knee, then off.

Lying before him, she was delicious. Her lacy pink bra barely contained the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen. They were golden, full, soft. He couldn’t resist moving closer, just touching with his fingertips the soft globes presented to him. He whimsically thought of becoming a ‘breast man’. Yes, he could happily die now, now that he had caressed Narcissa’s incredible breasts. Narcissa reached for his head, bringing him down to her, encouraging him to rest on her softness. As his face nestled there, he couldn’t stop touching, caressing, the rest of her. His fingers bostancı escort slid down her flat tummy, making her squirm and giggle softly. He stopped only when he reached the lacy edges of her pink panties, lying low on her hips, covering little. He continued exploring, feeling the fullness of her curlies contained there.

Now, he had the time to enjoy, to learn. His fingers moved slowly over her, loving her, while he whispered words of longing and need into her ear. Her body felt so wonderful to him, so perfect. She lay beside him, quietly, allowing him all the time he needed. Her mouth searched for his, bringing him to her, nursing on his lips, her tongue teasing and inviting him.

Still, there were too many clothes, too many restrictions. Her hands moved now, unbuttoning, unzipping, until they were nearly twins, just small undergarments separating them.

She had forgotten her injury. All she could think of was that Jack was the man she had been waiting for, the man she would marry and spend the rest of her days and nights beside. He felt so right in her arms. Kissing him seemed the reason lips were made. They were close together in the bed, nearly one, happily beginning a lifetime of memories.

Hands traveled, caressed, shaped and molded. Kisses were shared, tongues explored, fingers delved and petted. Narcissa was wrapped around Jack’s nearly naked body, her silky panties rubbing over his thigh, her arousal damp on his skin. Tiny moans escaped her throat as she rubbed against him, trying to get even closer, trying to get into him.

Jack kissed her mouth, her jaw, her throat. Her skin was like velvet, warm velvet, that he could lose himself in. Everywhere he touched seemed to be the source of the sweet scent he alway thought of as Narcissa. He licked her skin, tasting her, wanting her all the more. She was lying on her back, pillows beneath her head, her eyes glowing in the darkness. She watched his face as it moved closer to her, watched his tongue as it slid toward her skin, wetting her and making her shiver with delight and anticipation. She moved her hands to his cheeks, guiding him to her distended nipples. He surprised her with his gentleness. He softly sipped on them, first one, then the other. Delicately, slowly, he brought her to peaks of excitement, then moved away, letting her build until she was nearly crazed with desire.

She still wore the lacy undergarments and he made love through the gauzy fabric. His mouth worked on the bra and her nipples, driving her to near-ecstacy, making her entire body throb and sway against him. His fingers finally reached for the tiny hooks holding the cups together, the two tiny hooks that he quickly undid, pushing the offending cloth away, allowing her hardened nipples to glow pinkly in the dusky room.

Now his mouth returned to her, sucking and pulling them deeply into his hot mouth. She could hear his moans as he moved over her, feel his excitement pressing hotly on her own thigh. fatih escort Part of her wanted to scream at the incredible slowness of the entire night, the other part thrilled at having this extended foreplay, having all the time to find and learn and love.

Her body arched up to him, offering him her breasts, her aching nipples. Her fingers delved into his hair, pulling him even closer and closer. He began nibbling, using his teeth to thrill her and make her wild with desire.

Even while she thought she could love him like this, she also thought that if she didn’t touch him, taste him, she would die. She said the words, begged him to let her hold him, kiss his most intimate parts, feel him hard in her mouth. Jack obeyed. He moved reluctantly away from her tightened nipples, letting the cool night air cover them and cause even more distention. He stood at the side of the bed, removing his briefs, his cock throbbing hugely into the darkened room. She gasped. He was so beautiful, so incredible. When he knelt on the mattress beside her, she couldn’t help herself. Her hand reached out, grasping the hard, hot flesh, her fingers wrapped around him as best she could. He already dripped precome, and she pulled him forward, greedy to taste that precious liquid. Suddenly, his velvety head was against her lips, then between them, as she happily pulled him deep within her hot mouth.

Jack couldn’t believe his life. He was not only with the woman he loved, but she was happily and greedily sucking his cock. Her hand cupped his aching balls, her fingers massaged and searched, stimulating him almost beyond endurance. He was afraid he would lose it then, come immediately into her suckling mouth, but he was able to hold on. Looking at her was almost his undoing. His sweet, starched, always correct Narcissa, here with him. Her hair disheveled, her face flushed even in the moonlight, her strawberry lips wrapped around his engorged cock, struggling to get even more of him into her warmth.

Jack tried to keep his cool, to make it through without exploding. Her questing mouth seemed to know exactly how to move on him, exactly the pressure he needed, exactly the rhythm. He slipped his fingers into her curls again, holding her against him. He could feel her happily humming into his cock, hear her excited moans and delighted sighs. Finally, he couldn’t wait. He needed to feel her pretty pussy around him, holding him and clutching him, wrapping him inside of her depths.

Jack moved his fingers to her cheeks, encouraging Narcissa to stop her ministrations. She released him with a pop, looking up at him wonderingly. He knelt to her, taking her mouth with his, kissing her and moving his entire body against hers. His fingers moved again to the tiny panties, this time slipping into them and pulling them down her hips. She helped him, kicking the garment off quickly. His hand moved to cup her, holding for the first time the treasure of his love. Her mound was covered with thick curls, bağcılar escort soft and springy. His fingers combed through the mass, the curls clutching his fingertips, tickling him. She was wet and he brought his hand to his face to inhale her fragrance, nearly overcome with desire. He slipped a finger into his mouth, tasting her for the first time, knowing he had to have more.

He slid down her body, kissing the smooth flesh, feeling the goosebumps form as his mouth caressed her. Turning his head, he began to kiss her thighs, tickled by her thick curls. His tongue searched, finding the swollen slit he sought. He continued, pushing through until his tongue entered the most delicious pinkness he had ever encountered. He could hear Narcissa moan, hear her intake of breath, feel her thrusting up to meet his mouth.

She was velvet, she was silk, she was the most delectable woman he had ever tasted. He found her tiny clit and began to circle it. Teasing and taunting, he enjoyed feeling Narcissa tremble beneath him. He feasted there, enjoying the hard nubbin in his mouth, the taste of ambrosia. Then his tongue explored, moving along the pinkness, finding her swollen pussy and plunging into it. Deeply he thrust, finding pleasure in her moans and cries. Back and forth, he moved his mouth, slipping up to the tiny, needy clit and pleasuring her, sliding back to her dripping pussy and thrusting into her.

So intent was he, that he couldn’t hear her words, couldn’t remember anything but the desire to please this woman. He almost missed the signs of impending orgasm. Her thighs had clamped together, her pussy had thrust up into his face, trying to swallow him. He continued, nursing on her, fucking her with his mouth. Then, she began to spasm against him. Her cries filled the air, her hands clutched his head. He rode out the storm, feeling her body tremble under him.

He knew he couldn’t wait any longer to feel her wrapped around him. He quickly switched positions and straddled her thighs. He held her body between his legs and plunged his dripping cock into her, into the heated flesh he had just kissed. His mouth sought hers, fucking her mouth as he had her cunt. The rhythm was set and they moved together.

It didn’t take long. It couldn’t. Jack pulled his face away and looked into her beautiful eyes. Narcissa smiled up at him, understanding his need. She moved her hips a fraction, encouraging his explosion. He felt his control leave him as he came deep within her. He filled her sweet pussy, continuing the love dance that they had started.

They kissed until he began to soften. Then he flipped to his back, taking Narcissa with him, resting along his length. Their hearts beat against each other, their breaths mingled. They began to talk about everything that was important to them, holding each other and sharing.

The night passed slowly as the two became lovers. In the morning, they emerged from her room, hand in hand, their future secured.

{Conclusion: They both gave notice to the Company two weeks after the holiday weekend. They opened their own agency, taking all their invaluable contacts and several coworkers with them. They married, had children and spent the rest of their days building a family and a business together. They lived happily ever after.}

Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Morning light was pouring in through the bedroom windows when I squeezed up closer behind my girl, the blanket having gone missing some time during the night. Even during this time of year it wasn’t necessary, not here in Los Angeles anyway. It was more of a comfort thing. The cool air coming in felt pretty good.

My girlfriend didn’t always agree, though. During the night she had gradually scrunched herself up until her curved hips were pushed, rather inadvertently, upwards in a very seductive pose. It only accentuated her little waist and, if it wasn’t pushed up tight against my crotch, her perfect rear end.

I carefully edged myself over her tanned body and peeked over the side. Yep, there was the blanket in a pile next to the bed. And as I expected, the alarm clock too. I tilted my head to check the time again. 8:22.

I swept her long brunette hair away from her face and nestled my arm in the crook of her waist. She had buried her head into her pillow, just one eye showing over freckled cheeks. She was sound asleep.

“Payshe, wake up, honey.” I whispered in her ear. No response.

I pulled together my most authoritative tone and tried again, much louder.

“Patience Scott, you wake up right now.” That got a response.

She groaned and pushed her head further into the pillow, then wiggled her ass back at me. “Quickie time?”

I shook my head. “Uh-uh.”

One sleepy brown eye opened, narrowed at me. “Clock fell over?” Patience whispered suspiciously.

“Uh huh.”

Her eyes went wide and she sprung out of bed. She was already out of the room and down the hall, the sound of a shower door swinging shut before I had even closed my mouth.

Ah, the joys of a 9-5. We both worked the same hours but at different stores — her, at a bank just around the corner, myself at an electronic retail store downtown. It’s amazing what kind of people you meet when you’re cashing your paycheck. It’s crazy how horny a gorgeous little bank teller can be. Always the ones you never suspect…

One year together next month and our sex life was still as rampant as it had been when we met. I guess that’s what happens when two kids just out of college get together. I was impressed to find a girl who could finally keep up with my own needs; sometimes she even surpassed them. I loved it. It was too bad we didn’t have time for that quickie today.

I squeezed by her nearly-naked body on my way into the shower. She had already finished, and in record time. I let my hand ‘accidentally’ slide over her towel-wrapped ass as she went by. She gave me a look I couldn’t quite decipher. I smiled to myself while I scrubbed clean.

The sound of things being tossed around was clear as I finished up.

“Joseph!” Patience always used the formal of my name when she was playfully annoyed. “Where are my skirts! Did you not wash my — oh.”

I took my time to pull on my clothes, buttoning and belting my khakis as I walked into the living room. She was putting the finishing touches on her eyeliner in front of the entryway mirror, obviously having already found the clothes she was looking for. Damn, but she looked good in her bank outfit.

I pressed up behind her, my arms wrapping around her waist. “You look very pretty today, honey.”

Payshe smirked at me. “You say that every day.” She looked down to check the time on her cell phone and started pushing at my arms. “I’ve got to go!”

“It’s not that far, you’ll make it in time.” I ran one hand up her body, taking one of her firm C-cup breasts in my hand and squeezing it gently. Her neckline plunged just between them, the frilly collar covering what otherwise would have bordered on indecent for a banker – especially with that push-up holding them high. As if they needed any help. But that cleavage was impossible to hide when I was mauling her as I was, rubbing my thumb over her nipple and squeezing it between my fingers.

“Baby, I have to go.” She had stopped pushing away long before she had said anything.

I breathed hard and nibbled on her neck, her ass wiggling freely back and forth against my crotch as I hardened. She was guiding my other hand down to her long skirt, prompting me to pull it up over her firm thighs, my index finger just inches away from —

Abruptly I stopped. Her eyes shot open instantly.

“Sorry, hon, look at the time. It’s almost 9! I got to get across town in three minutes, that’ll never happen.” Then with another little lick over her ear, “But I am going to love doing the dirtiest things to this sweet little body tonight.”

I walked out of our apartment with my car keys in hand even faster than she had launched out of bed earlier, grinning wide.

Only one other employee noticed me come in thirty minutes late. He ran across the room as fast as his pudgy legs would take him, waving his arms at me.

“You’re late! You missed orientation! I covered for you… and now I got stuck with another fucking trainee for the whole week! bakırköy escort What the fuck, man?”

I shook my fists in mock-despair. “God damn it! Fucking traffic. You know how much I love orientation, Roy. How could you let me fuck it up again?” I tsked and walked away.

It was a very boring work day overall. It usually is. Restocking shelves, telling customers where they can find the low-end LCDs, trying to explain to an elderly woman what a “security dongle” is while keeping a straight face. Immaturity is really my only amusement in this place.

I mostly filled that quota by watching Roy try to train two different people assigned to two separate departments, his striped shirt covered in sweat from all the hustling back and forth, and it wasn’t even noon yet. I spend the first few hours of my day waiting for noon.

Somewhere around 11:30, all of the hottest girls of the city come out from whatever rock they hide under here in LA. Those tiny bikini tops and those short shorts may have been why I applied here in the first place, at an electronic superstore right off the beach. Everyone loves a room with a view. They don’t even need to come into the store to give one hell of a distraction.

I was helping one such girl pick out DVD players when I got a text message across my phone. She was definitely being a little bit flirty, eyeing up my body and all, and I’ll admit that I may have flirted a little back. But hey, I’m a taken guy; I know where the line is. Sometimes approaching that line can bring a little excitement to an otherwise dull day, even if you don’t cross it.

The vibrations made me reluctantly pull away from my, well, professional appraisal of such a small skirt as she bent low to pick up the model she had decided on. I decided to tell Roy I was taking my lunch break and headed for the back room.

I flipped through to my recent message from my girlfriend:

“Joseph Im horny and on lunch come fix it pleeeeeeease?”

I grinned. Obviously Patience had been giving tonight a good deal of thought. I started typing back.

“Sorry baby, we’re so busy today, no time”

As an afterthought, I unzipped my khakis and tugged my cock out, laying it against my thigh. 7 inches flaccid, I took a picture and attached it to the message with another line below it.

“Maybe you can think of some ways to make it hard tonight.”

I hit send and lazily rummaged through the break room fridge for someone else’s food to eat.

Rush hour traffic is always a bitch. I bolted out of the store at 5 o’clock sharp, and here I was, almost 6 and just pulling into the complex’s parking lot. I checked the mailbox on my way up; empty. Patience was already home and waiting. Oh, how I bet she was waiting. I felt my dick hardening against my thigh just thinking about it.

I turned my key in the lock and stepped inside a dark room. On the far side, the bedroom door was cracked halfway, our light on and begging me to come investigate. No, not the light — a little too dim for that. Candles. I couldn’t wait to see what I had in store for me.

I threw my coat on the couch on my way across and started taking off my belt as I nudged the door open. I was definitely getting hard now.

Lying in the middle of the bed was Patience, lying on her belly with her back arched ever so slightly so that her tight, rounded ass was nothing but an invitation. It was framed by the straps of her garter belt, her stockinged legs ending in open-toed strappy high heels. No panties, but the same push-up bra I had teased her in earlier, the straps of which were hidden by her dark hair laying across her back. Candle light from the bedside table was flickering a reflection of a perfect body across the wall.

She flipped her hair and turned her head towards me, looking as innocent as could be with those big brown eyes. I just smiled and walked straight through to the walk-in closet without a word, where she couldn’t see me.

I slipped off my work clothes and got into something more relaxing — a pair of polyester running pants and nothing else. Tidying myself up in the mirror and taking a few cursory inspections of my body — still very well toned, to my approval — I walked back out.

Now she was openly pouting, biting the corner of her lip and giving me puppy dog eyes. Her hips were slowly swaying back and forth, showing off her toned butt. I could see the hint of moisture dripping down her slit between her thighs. She was definitely waiting.

I just kept on walking. Back out, down the hall, into the bathroom. I sorted through the medicine cabinet and found what I was looking for almost immediately, but I waited a few minutes for effect before I returned.

Payshe’s eyes were narrowed at me in definite frustration now, her lips twisted in a disapproving frown. She had laid her head over her crossed arms to watch me come back in, giving her a perfect view as I tossed a little bottle towards her. Her beşiktaş escort eyes followed it, but she didn’t move a muscle even when it landed between her shoulder blades. She didn’t want to look any more eager than I was.

The massage oil rolled down into the groove of her lower back. The cold of the plastic bottle on her skin made her arch even more, her ass pushed even more deliciously towards me. With still no words said between us, I climbed onto the bed and kneeled over her curvy butt, straddling her between my legs.

I collected the bottle and, without touching her skin, leaned forward and held it over the candles on the bedside table. My chest was inches from her back, I was breathing down her neck, our only contact was through the front of my pants resting against her backside.

I wondered if I heard a groan of frustration when I leaned back with the now-warmed oil, taking my time to open it. Maybe I imagined it. I didn’t imagine the purr when I dribbled it up and down her back, then into my hands.

My palms started at her lower back, gripping her firmly with my fingertips brushing along her belly. I began kneading upwards; massaging oil into her skin at her sides, pushing hard as I moved higher and higher across her body. When I got under her arms, I deliberately reached under her to slide my hands across her bra-covered tits, squeezing them roughly. Just as my fingers were reaching the tops and about to touch her naked titflesh, I returned to her back and squeezed her shoulders, milking the muscles between my hands.

Patience’s hips were bucking noticeably beneath me, her back curving at such an angle that I worried she might break as she tried to find the right angle to rub against my shaft. It had hardened to its full length of nine and a half inches, resting against my thigh almost painfully.

I ran my fingertips back down her body by way of her spine, trailing down the middle of her back in teasing feathery touches. My girlfriend was unashamedly groaning with frustration now.

My hands wrapped around the mounds of her ass. It’s a perfect one. Tight, firm, with just enough something to it to give it that perfect shape. I squeezed her rump determinedly between both hands, now shiny and slick with the oil I was liberally applying to her body.

Both of Payshe’s arms came back behind her to grab at my thighs. She was pulling my pants down, my cock springing free and landing between her cheeks.

“Babyyy,” she cooed at me.

I took one of her fragile hands in mine and leaned down to wrap our entwined arms around her throat. Her chin rest on my bicep, her cute freckled face scrunched up in concentration. She was trying her hardest to get me inside of her, bucking her petite body back and forth. My cock was getting more and more lubed as it moved between the split of her ass. I was the only one with the power to put it inside of her.

“You’ve been a very patient girl, honey,” I murmured into her ear, my other hand traveling down her stomach and stopping just short of her soaking wet pussy. I split my fingers apart, rubbing slowly down until they were on either side of her sex, as I slowly repeated myself: “Very… patient,” stopping just short of my palm touching her clit.

“I am Patience,” she moaned up at me. I arched back, letting my cock slip down between her legs. She renewed her struggles, rubbing her pussy hard up and down the shaft of my cock, trying to find a way to angle the head inside. Impossible.

I gave her an inch when she wanted a mile: I put my fingertips on her clit and rubbed her ever so slightly. Patience bit her lip hard and her body went rigid for just a second. She almost came.

“Patience gets a reward,” I groaned into her ear, never taking my arm off of her throat. She squeaked in protest when I let go of her clit, but was almost purring like a kitten when she realized what I was going to do. I grabbed my meat and lined the large bulbous head up with her pussy, rubbing it up and down. As if it needed to be any wetter. I couldn’t be any harder.

She expected me to tease her at this point. She was ready to fight for it. I surprised her. After the head of my cock was firmly seated inside of her, I wrapped that arm around her waist and slammed my cock as deep into her as it would go. Only when my groin was lodged against her body without an inch to move did I stop.

Her eyes shot open and she opened her mouth to make a noise, but nothing came out. I was holding her too tight. Her body was convulsing with the comings of an orgasm again. I wasn’t going to let her gently ride through it. I was already thrusting into her with long, hard strokes, as fast as the position would allow. Her pussy was vibrating and pulsing and gripping me violently, like it never wanted to let me out. I just kept going.

The leverage was wrong. I released her arm and sat up, instead shifting so that I could pin her face down into the pillow with both hands on beylikdüzü escort her shoulders. I leaned into her body hard. I really started pounding her petite frame. Anyone else would worry that she’d break. I knew her limits.

I was squeezing her hips impossibly hard between my thighs as I gave her the hardest fuck in a long time. The slapping of flesh was loud and clear, her little moans would have been little screams if they weren’t into a pillow. Her heels clicked and clacked against the footboard.

My balls were churning. I had been thinking about this all day, too. I wasn’t going to last as long as I wanted to the first time. I let up on her shoulders just to grip her by her long hair, turning her face towards me. Our faces were inches apart again when I groaned to her staring at me with pure animal lust.

“Does my hot little bitch like it, baby?”

Patience moaned loudly and bucked her ass back at me in time with every thrust. I took that as a yes.

I unhooked her bra before I flipped her onto her back, the look of confusion and a minor tinge of annoyance that I had to pull out of her sweet pussy making me grin all the more. I tugged her bra off and threw it across the room, giving me free access to her naked boobs, perfect for sliding my cock between as I straddled her chest.

I kept my hand in her hair so that I could grip her head where I wanted it. My thighs held her tits together as I thrust like a man possessed. She had her hands around me, gripping at my back, urging me on. Grunts escaped my throat with every push.

Without warning I pulled her head up and flexed my hips forward. She got the hint and opened her mouth, those beautiful brown eyes never breaking contact with my own. I had her head gripped between both hands as I slid my fuckstick as far down her throat as she could take in this position — almost seven inches. That was enough.

I came and I came hard. She was swallowing obediently and as fast as she could, sucking me dry between loads. I didn’t know if I’d stop cumming, every time I thought I was dry I would look down at that deceptively innocent face, with my thick cock between her lips, the way she loved every minute of it and it would just keep coming. Sweat was pouring down my back.

Finally I stopped. I let her tongue lick me clean and pulled free, climbing down to collapse on top of her. Both of my arms were instinctively wrapped around her. I was sucking at her nipples and biting, tugging, giving them the first attention they had all night. They were stiff and swollen with all of the touches they hadn’t received. I swirled my tongue around them.

Patience was still gasping for breath. She was the one to whisper in my ear now. “Your slut is still sooo horny for you, baby…”

That was all I needed. My organ had never gone soft. I pushed her stocking-clad legs up to her chest, her ankles dangling over my shoulders. I sunk nine inches deep into heaven. God, her pussy is still the sweetest thing I’ve ever felt, I get harder every inch inside of it. Tight, but not so tight that it could hurt. Perfect. She could take every inch and she loved it. She begged for it.

She panted like a dog as I nailed her pussy deeper than ever. Her tits bounced with our every move. Her fingers were working her own nipples, tweaking and pulling, squeezing her whole breast. We were both covered in our own perspirations. The headboard was like a jackhammer against the wall, but neither of us could hear it over each other.

“Fuck me,” she moaned. I fucked her. I fucked her hard. Her clit throbbed when my groin made contact. She was cumming again. I slowed down just so she could remember every inch of my huge dick in that perfect little pussy while all she could see were stars.

I laid some gentle bites along her calves as I went back to full speed. My horny slut was pushing at my chest. I didn’t need to be told twice. She loved to ride me after she came, almost as much as I loved to ride her.

My back hit the bed and she got on top, this time not letting my prick ever drop out of her. Her hips rolled back and forth, grinding the way I had been grinding her ass earlier. As if on cue, she grinned wickedly at me and with that sexy little freckled smile, turned around and presented that delectable little ass to me.

Her back arched and she leaned forward. Patience loves to give a good show. Patience knows how much I adore her ass. Especially when she’s bucking and riding my pole, sliding her pussy up and down. Our eyes were locked the entire time, her tongue darting over her lips on every downstroke with a little squeal to tell me I was hitting just the right spot.

Spank. Spank. Spank. My hand came down on her ass hard. She loved it. She moaned. She rode even harder. On my last swat, my thumb rubbed a small circle around her brown star, daring to poke inside of her ass.

“Oooooh,” her back tensed and she fell forward onto her arms, barely moving while I thumb-fucked her behind. Perfect position, I thought.

In an instant I was back on my feet, my bitch in heat on all fours with her sexy upturned bottom ready and willing. I don’t think she noticed me move, not even that I had taken my log of a dick out of her pussy, so focused was she on my thumb.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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Daniel sat on the 13:15 train to Oyster Creek, sour-faced and miserable. The low, grey clouds, the encroaching cold and the settling gloom all conspired to lend the evening a foreboding look. Not that the rest of the day had gone well. Arriving in Portland International Airport at eleven in the morning had done nothing to clear up the jetlag from his thirteen hour flight out of London, especially not with the prospect of another four hours on the train in front of him.

Daniel hated trains. He’d never much liked them, and a daily commute from his sleepy town in rural middle England to the great heaving mass that was London had done little to diminish that sentiment. So when he found out he’d have to catch a cross-state train to Oyster Creek his reaction was not surprising, and it wasn’t one of overwhelming joy. No, it was about as far from that as one could get without descending into a psychotic rage, and that annoyance had not much dissipated.

He had, of course, railed against the idea of going to Oyster Creek at all, particularly as the details of the journey had become clear. Not only a thirteen hour flight, but then another four hours travelling cross-country in a cooped-up metal tube, surrounded by sweaty passengers, noisy earphones and the omnipresent one-sided chatter of a mobile phone? No, thank you.

But he had no choice. His grandfather had retired, and the family business had passed on to his children, one of whom was Daniel’s mother. The old man relinquished all control of the company, and apparently had thought long and hard as to whom he wanted to take up the post at Oyster Creek. Daniel’s family were not great travellers, a trait that he shared, and the thought of upping sticks and journeying halfway across the world was not something that appealed to them.

The very fact that there was a branch in Oyster Creek at all had always surprised him. It was more a matter of historical sentimentality than economic prudence, Daniel felt, as his great-grandfather — the founder of the family business — had been from the small western US town and it had been his very first shop. Other than the first few decades of its existence it had never turned a profit, and was now nothing more than a general store. It didn’t even share the name of the great corporate behemoth that the old man had gone on to found in Europe after he eloped to Britain with a young English woman. It appeared on no company accounts; a separate entity entirely, the general store was privately owned.

No, Daniel had found its existence annoying even before his grandfather had surrendered the reins of the company to his offspring. Why not just sell the damn thing? It had always seemed silly to keep hold of a small shop on the other side of the world, especially when it was nothing more than a pleasant memory of how things started. Who cared?

Daniel thought it was perhaps these views which had convinced the senile old bastard to send him to Oyster Creek. And here he was, to his great delight – the new proprietor of the “Oyster Creek General Store”. His calling in life finally answered. Yeh, right.

He didn’t even know what he was supposed to do once there, either. The only thing he’d been told was that the local hotel had a room booked in his name and that a girl named ‘Jenny’ was supposed to meet him at the station. He had no idea what the store even sold (‘general’ is not a product), or what his staff quota was. All in all, he was heading into the unknown.

It’s not as if he’d been doing particularly badly back in the UK. He would admit that his career had slightly stalled, particularly after he’d been caught sleeping with his boss’s secretary (who also happened to be his wife), but he was only twenty-four and he did not deserve this. Nobody deserved this.

Clearly, however, his family disagreed, and Daniel got the distinct impression that this posting was as much to do with getting him out of the way as it was any great gesture in improving his horizons. Still, he had little choice in the matter, and unless he wanted to be disowned by the entire Porter-Michaels clan then he had to go.

So he did.

He’d packed his things, said goodbye to his friends, given his ex-boss’s wife one last seeing to whilst she was bent over the slimy bastard’s own desk, and then left. The great American dream beckoned him; an epic story of sleepy mountain towns, a foreigner in a new land and a general store he already despised.

Excellent.

*****************************

The crunch of the sliding doors brought him out of his reverie, and he surveyed his companions with a glower. He shared this carriage with a rather rotund gentleman in a faded business suit, tapping away on a laptop keyboard and loudly chuckling to himself. An elderly woman sat by herself in the next set of seats thoroughly engrossed in her book, and a couple of fresh-faced teenagers — complete with hiking gear — finished off the group.

Daniel had a row of four seats to himself, with a folding halkalı escort table. He immediately stowed it away and stretched his legs out, lying sideways across the seats with his feet up on the other side. He opened his book and vowed not to speak to anyone for the entire journey.

As the train moved off, the fat man with the laptop stopped chuckling, evidently moving on to more serious subject matter, and the excited murmur of the pseudo-hikers was all that he could hear over the repetitive clack of the wheels. Not too bad, he thought to himself. Though it could be better. I could be alone in the carriage.

Or not even on the fucking train, in this fucking country going to take over a shop I know next to fuck all about with no fucking prospects and a family back in the UK who want nothing more than to get me out of their fucking way.

Daniel hated trains.

They’d been travelling for about an hour when the train made its first stop, pulling into a reasonably-sized station alongside a fairly empty platform. It was quite clearly an important stop — the size of the building made that obvious — but a quarter past two was evidently not the time that most people boarded. A small gaggle of commuters stood milling on the platform, and as the train glided to a halt they moved towards the doors.

Two people approached the sliding doors to Daniel’s carriage; a tall man replete with baseball jacket and cap emblazoned with what Daniel could only assume was the logo of the team he supported, and a woman he could barely see, so tightly wrapped up in her thick coat was she. As the doors hissed open they stepped on, and, in an effort to make sure no one sat near him, Daniel refused to make eye contact, instead resolutely focusing on the words of the page in front of him.

They picked their way over to the set of seats adjacent to his and sat down, the fat man with his laptop ceasing his incessant typing in order to size them up. He immediately resumed it.

Daniel closed his eyes as the doors shut once again and the train lurched forward, trying to eliminate the sense of claustrophobia that was building within him. The sky outside was fading into grey even though it was only afternoon, and the last wisps of pleasant blue were glowing over the horizon. Clouds were setting in, seemingly almost kissed by the serrated tops of the pine trees that hurtled past with increasing speed.

The two newcomers had begun to chatter, and given their proximity Daniel could unfortunately hear their voices murmuring. Yet he couldn’t quite make out the words, which was even more infuriating — at least he could have a good eavesdrop if that were the case — and he gritted his teeth. It wasn’t their fault he was annoyed, he knew, and it would do him no good to snap at them. They were doing nothing wrong; who wouldn’t talk to whomever they were with on a long journey? No, the problem is mine, and I’ll just have to suck it up, no matter how annoyed I’m getting.

He buried himself in his book once more, zoning out the noise of the train around him. He’d done it before that stop and he was able to do it again, his mind drifting and becoming lost in the fantasy world of the novel. It was so very much more interesting.

He must have been reading for a good while when the train began to slow again, another station evidently nearing. He checked his watch: quarter to three. Not too long then, but it was only an hour and a half gone. Still another two and a half to go.

Daniel became aware of movement to his left, and he cocked his head slightly to ascertain what was going on. In no way did he want to give the impression that he was interested in what was happening, of course, but he wanted to find out nonetheless. It seemed that the businessman was packing away his laptop and collecting his belongings, his journey evidently over. The man in the baseball cap, too, was shifting on his seat, though his partner — whom Daniel had still not seen — seemed far less interested in moving.

As the train pulled into the station Daniel noticed that the platforms were totally empty. The sky was completely grey now, the threat of rain imminent, most of the light cast by the searing white artificial bulbs that pocked the station’s roof. The cabin of the train itself had adopted a cool glow; easily enough to see by, but Daniel could appreciate that it wouldn’t prevent a good sleep, either.

With a small bump the train stopped moving, and Daniel watched the passengers disembark over the top of his book. It was indeed the fat businessman and the sports fan who climbed off the train, strolling along the platform a good distance apart. Clearly Mr. Baseball had not taken his companion with him, and Daniel shot a brief glance over his shoulder to see if she was still there. She was, staring at her mobile phone (sorry, cellphone), idly pressing buttons and clearly bored out of her mind.

He still could not see her clearly, nişantaşı escort but what he could make out was certainly nice on the eyes. She had medium-length brown hair that fell just short of her shoulders, layered and straightened to frame her face in an appealing — but almost certainly difficult to maintain — fashion. She had a cute, pointed nose, wide eyes of a colour he could not identify in the light, and prominent cheekbones. Daniel would need a better look at her to really tell, but from a quick glance she was certainly very attractive. She still, however, wore her thick coat, despite the relative warmth of the train carriage, and he soon grew wary of looking at her for too long and returned to his book.

As the train pulled away from the station he glanced in the window. The inside lights had practically turned it into a mirror, and Daniel stared at his own reflection. His sandy blonde hair looked stylishly unkempt, and he was pleased at that. He was going for the ‘I don’t care what my hair looks like despite spending a not inconsiderable amount of time on it every morning’ look. Yet his green eyes were not noticeable in the light, which saddened him somewhat; he had been told by his admirers that they were one of his best features.

Settling down, and with one last glance at the pretty girl behind him, he returned to his book. The train had built up speed now, and the world was hurtling past at an impressive pace. He checked his watch: three o’clock. Sigh.

Movement behind him caught his attention, and he watched through the reflection of the window as his attractive fellow passenger reached beside her and picked up her handbag. She grasped it, sighed with boredom and looked up…

Straight into his gaze. Shit! He quickly averted his eyes and returned them to his book.

*****************************

Another hour or so passed on the most boring journey of Daniel’s life, and reading had begun to grow stale. He sighed, shutting the pages with a dull thud, and began staring out of the window once more. Of course, the reflective properties of the glass meant that he was really staring in, and he carefully watched the pretty creature that sat behind him. The elderly woman and the hikers had left the train at its previous stop, and so Daniel was now alone with this mysterious girl.

She had closed her eyes, evidently dozing, and it allowed Daniel to get a better look at her. She was still wearing her thick coat, no doubt owing to the open window that blasted cold air over her at the train’s passage, but she nevertheless appeared to have drifted off to sleep.

He turned slightly, hoping to better see her form, and then turned some more. He had to admit, long journeys had a habit of making him pretty horny, and sharing the carriage with such an attractive young woman did nothing to curb those instincts.

The train juddered, shaking slightly from side to side as it rounded a bend, perfectly safe on the tracks but startling him nonetheless. The girl’s eyes shot open and ice ran through his veins as she instinctively glanced round the carriage, her eyes yet again meeting his.

Daniel held the gaze a fleeting moment, too horrified at being caught in such a lecherous act to know what to do, his cool demeanour totally shattered. It was then that his book slipped off the seat, knocked sideways by the train’s sudden veer, and they both jumped at the loud bang.

He closed his eyes, and laughed. He couldn’t help it; such a ridiculous combination of events, and there was amusement to be found in them. He didn’t think he’d ever been quite so frustrated and embarrassed — he had somehow managed to couple his anger at the posting to Oyster Creek with the very immediate red-faced horror of his present predicament — and it all just came out. He howled with laughter, rolling onto his back and doubling over, tears streaming down his cheeks.

The girl, he was sure, would change carriages. As he gasped in air, his fit of hysterics finally coming to an end, he glanced at the window once again. She was still there and, stranger yet, she was smiling, her lips curled into what seemed a bemused grin.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel spluttered at last, laughter still shuddering through him. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise.”

“I’d hope not,” she said in return, her voice indicating her amusement. Relief flooded through him — at least she wasn’t going to get pissed at his being caught staring, as she had every right to do.

“It’s just… a combination of events, culminating in that embarrassment right there. I… can’t really explain it, but it was funny.”

“Try me.”

Daniel sat up and turned to her, surprised at her demand. “Excuse me? You really want me to bore you?”

“Look, dude, I just caught you staring at me whilst I slept. That’s a cardinal sin, but hey, I’m cool with it. Everyone has desires, right? But you owe me, and I’m really fucking bored. Tell me what was funny.”

Daniel şişli escort was taken aback. She stared at him, raising an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Er, sure. Do you mind if I join you rather than talk across the carriage?”

“Don’t bother; it smells over here. That fucking laptop-man.”

She stood up at that, and Daniel got the chance to really take her in. She was, he decided, stunning. She crossed the gap quickly and sat down opposite him; he decided to remain sprawled across the seats. Those nondescript eyes were visible to him now, and they were a lovely hazel colour.

“Well, er, I guess I was laughing at being caught staring by you. And that, coupled with why I’m here, just made me laugh.” He shrugged.

“And what’s so funny about why you’re here?”

“That’s a separate question,” Daniel teased. “You only demanded one answer.”

“I suppose I did. Ask me something in return then.”

“Can you take off your coat?”

She laughed at that, and shrugged. “Sure.” She stood up, unbuttoning the long, grey coat, and slipped it from her shoulders. She was wearing a tight black t-shirt underneath, which Daniel was delighted to notice was stretched across an ample chest. Very ample indeed. As she leaned over to place her coat on the seat next to her, Daniel couldn’t help but wonder at the feeling of those large tits in his hands. Goddamn, this journey has made me horny.

She turned back to him then. “So, my turn. What brings you to my fine country? I see that you’re English.”

“You want the whole story or the condensed one?”

She checked her watch. “I’ve got a while. The whole story.”

“Fair enough.” Daniel sat more upright. “My family owns a large business empire in Europe. I worked for them until recently, when I was fired from my job, and so they sent me here. We own a general store out in a place called Oyster Creek, you see, a relic of my great-grandfather’s. I’m to oversee it until such a time I prove myself capable of being recalled to Britain.”

“That’s pretty interesting!” the girl replied. “I was expecting something like, ‘oh, I’m a tourist and I was staring at your tits.'”

“Then I’m sure you’re glad to hear that’s not true.”

“Well, one part of it anyway, huh?”

Daniel looked away for a moment, his cheeks feeling a little hot.

“Ah don’t worry about it, I’m kidding. Seriously, if I got pissed at people staring at my chest I’d have flipped out long ago. You’re a man; I understand that makes you a pervert.”

Daniel laughed and turned back to her, pleased to see a grin on her face. She gestured towards him. “Your turn to ask a question.”

“What about you? What do you do?”

“That’s two questions.”

Daniel smiled. “Just the last one then — what do you do?”

“I’m a college grad. Last year. Business with economics. Good degree, too, but fucked if I can get a job in this current climate.”

“What are you doing for money then?”

“Hold up… it’s my turn to ask a question.”

“Bugger, I suppose it is.”

“What’s your name?”

“Daniel, but all my friends call me Dan. Pleased to meet you. And yours?”

“You’ve already asked a question, can’t ask two.”

“I did?”

“Yup, you asked what I was doing for money.”

“You’re bloody good at this,” Daniel laughed, shifting around to put his feet on the floor. He no longer felt like sprawling. “So… what are you doing for money?”

“Working in a shop. It’s pretty boring stuff, but it’s paying the bills until I can get out of town. I want to be a high-flyer somewhere. Don’t really care where. Portland; LA; Chicago; New York. Wherever, really.”

Daniel stared at her. “I know you’re waiting for me to bite, but it’s your turn to ask a question.”

A broad smile spread across her face. “You’re learning quick. Alright, how old are you?”

“Twenty-four. And you?”

“Twenty-four… too. A mouthful,” she giggled. “And it’s my turn, again. What to ask?”

“Ask a question. My turn.”

“What? No it’s not.”

“You asked a question. You said ‘what to ask.'”

“You bastard!” She grinned at him, then reclined. “You got me.”

“Where are you from?”

“Hah, I think you mean ‘where are you living’, but luckily for you the two are one and the same. None other than your destination, Dan — Oyster Creek.”

“Interesting.”

“It is. Right, since you tricked me then I’m afraid I’m going to get personal.” She leaned forwards again. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No. And if you’re getting personal, so will I. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Nope.” She paused a moment, as if thinking up her next question. A grin slowly spread across her face. “Remember, Dan, we’re answering truthfully here. Were you staring at my tits?”

Daniel swallowed, then shrugged. She wanted honesty — she could hardly be annoyed by the answer. “Yes.”

She nodded, and smiled. “Your turn, Dan.”

He wasn’t tolerating this. Her questions were probing, and they were embarrassing him. Time to turn the tables.

“Did you enjoy me staring at your tits?”

She looked a little taken aback, then a thought seemed to occur to her. “A very good question, I wondered if you’d stoop to my level. No British charm in you, clearly.” She winked. “But in answer to your question: yes, I rather did. Do you find me attractive?”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
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The sound of surf washes in the windows with the spring sunlight. A soft breeze is moving the cotton curtains, and gentle notes fill the air. It’s humid and warm, and the aroma of honeysuckle drifts everywhere.

We’re on island, with some neighbors of mine. I’ve invited you along to watch my boy, but he is off playing near the waves with his friend and the neighbors. I can hear them playing and talking just outside, but we’re inside.

You’re taking some time to practice piano. You have a crisp white blouse on, and a tartan plaid skirt that looks like one of those school uniforms. Your dark curls shine with softness, and your milky skin reflects the fact that you haven’t yet spent time on the beach or sailing.

I walk over to the piano to hear you better, watching you sit un-selfconsciously on the old piano bench, your legs slightly askew. I catch just a glimpse of white cotton between your legs as you shift position to play. The warm sunlight plays on your lap. You’re playing “Moonlight Sonata.” Somehow, the soothing, slow rhythm is just right – melodic triplets seem to ebb and flow with the rhythm of the waves pounding the beach.

“Hi,” I say. You’re new, and young – but I have seen see you blush and react when I’ve passed close by you. “Nice playing. You know, I used to teach keyboard a bit long ago. Would you like some pointers?” “Okay,” you say.

“Great. Well. First, you need to have correct posture.” I move closer, and very gently touch the small of your back. “Now sit up straight, and arch your back a bit. Good. Yes, just like that. Just relax now – keep playing, and breathe deeply.” And you do.

I can fully enjoy watching you breathe now. Your lovely, firm breasts rise and fall, gently halkalı escort parting the neck of your shirt as you play. I lean a little closer, watching over your shoulder, bringing my mouth closer to your ear. “Do you like this?” I ask. You nod, and smile. I touch the small of your back again, very subtly stroking it – and lean to whisper in your ear – “You’re very sweet.” And you blush. “Go on, keep playing like that,” I say, louder so they will hear it outside. Then I lean in again to brush your soft hair back, and very gently kiss your earlobe, then neck.

You suddenly flub up, and stop playing, flustered… you turn towards me. I plant a gentle kiss on your lips, and we hear the voices outside again. You kiss me back, and start to reach for me. “Shh!” I say. “Be careful, or they will get curious!” Then I say more loudly, “Why don’t you practice some scales now. Just try the ostinato part, the slow triplets. That’s it. And sit up straight.” The notes create a new pattern that is almost hypnotic, like a Philip Glass composition. We listen for a moment, simply enjoying being close.

I slowly move a finger to your lips. You take it into your mouth, but you keep playing. I run my other hand gently down your back, up your side.”Why don’t you close your eyes,” I say. “It will help you focus on technique.” You do. You keep playing, gently sucking my finger. Your tounge swirling around my fingertip feels warm and good. This feeling of deep connection to you is suddenly coursing through me, and I loosen my tie. I could close my eyes, but I want to see what is before me.

I let my hands and lips play leisurely across your body – your neck, taksim escort your hair; cupping your breasts. Several times, you falter in playing the pattern, and each time, I stop my affections. This is a little game we’re playing, and you seem realize that you need to keep playing to receive pleasure!You must continue for me to continue. So, you resume playing.

I move a bit more to the front, so I can reach between you and the piano but you can play. Putting one hand on each of your knees, I gently push your legs apart…

Dum da da, dum da da, dum da da – the notes are mesmerising, suspending time, enthralling the here and now and repeating it endlessly.

Slowly, I hike up your skirt. Running my warm hands up your thighs now, I can see your white panties. What they cover looks completely smooth. And which, if I’m not mistaken, is quite wet. I am aching to pull them aside, slide you to the floor, then slide into you and thrust for all I’m worth. That would draw attention to us for sure, though.

You are breathing faster now, cheeks flushed, but your eyes are still closed, and you’ve managed to keep playing. “Why don’t you try another pattern now?” I say. You switch to something slightly faster and a bit more urgent. The neighbors and children are still just outside. They must think you are quite the diligent student as the tempo continues.

Very deliberately, I run my middle finger up your inner thigh, and slip it under your panties. It’s very wet under there, smooth, and very slick. How deliciously warm and wet you are. I can almost smell and taste how much you want more attention. My longest finger slips easily into your sex, while I massage your clit in circles with my şişli escort thumb.

You start to slide your hips rhythmically towards me, pumping, but again you’ve stopped playing! So I pull out, grinning snidely at you. No tempo, no reward, young lady! You look at me with wide pleading eyes, biting your lip, and then you start playing again – eyes closed.

I push back into you with two fingers now, and go back to work. I’m leaning against the keyboard for support, and finger-fucking you rather firmly,keeping time with your playing. Sometimes I lean in to pinch your nipples through your shirt with my other hand, or to kiss you. This is an intensely pleasant way to spend a humid afternoon by the sea, and I would love to prolong this moment, but you are building towards a climax.

You are quite good at this – now and then you toss in a few trills, chords, or notes that vary the pattern for variety. We’re creating quite a composition this way – it sounds good, interesting, dynamic! “Very good!” I say. “Good girl.”

I can see you perspiring. You are near climax, but I know you are finding it difficult to completely let go, because you have to keep playing! I focus on your clit, circling it, rubbing it insistently with my thumb. “Ah, Ah, Ah,” you say, and it sounds almost as if you are singing.

My fingers thrust still more deeply into you. You take in a sharp breath and stop playing – so I start to pull my fingers out for one aching moment. You arch your back, pushing, reaching – but then – you spread your hands wide and plant them firmly onto the ivories again to make one deep, crashing chord. You pound this chord again and again, and it does make for a dramatic musical ending. Your pussy is tightening around my fingers, convulsing, milking them. I know you are coming hard.

The chord dies away, reverberating. You sigh. A breeze freshens in the window again, and on it rides the sound of applause! Our audience has appreciated your performance – but not as much as I have.

It’s going to be a long, sweet summer.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I am in an alley in the middle of New York somewhere. I hear horns honking, “Taxi!”, the brakes of big semi trucks discharging and the sound of the subway in the background. I look around and I see the brick building faces, a few pieces of garbage on the ground, just like the pictures of new york. The asphalt, it looks like there is snow or maybe ice on it. There is a chill in the air that feels sharp like pins on my face, I can see my breath and is so thick in front of me it seems to take forever to disappear. God I love New York.

I am leaning against the hood of an older car in the alley. I am rocking from side to side and rubbing my hands together trying to stay warm. We were just standing there talking about nothing really just about things we have in common, the weather, the plans for the weekend, those types of things. We were talking about the weather and how this was normal for this time of year and how cold it can get. I glance over and I see him looking at me out of the corner of his eye, what is he thinking, does he like me? Is this the time we finally don’t run away? Where will we go from here this time? He wasn’t interested the last time?

And I am dressed in a knee high black coat buttoned down the front. With a pink scarf and hat. Underneath I am wearing a short gray tweed skirt the kind that goes a few inches above the knee and black thigh highs. A silky white shirt, buttoned down just enough that when I lean forwards you can catch a glymps of my lacey white sarıyer escort bra. I look like one of the corperate working wall street women.

Had he seen my bra when I had bent down. I wonder if he had he seen the lace and the edge of my nipple. Did he want to see what I look like underneath all these clothes and how I felt. Did he know how I wanted him? Was he thinking about something else. We always seemed to have a little office flirting going on but nothing ever happened. Just when I thought he was going to kiss me, or make some type I move, I always pulled away just in time. But this time he looked different. His tone was different he looked different. Did I really want him or was he going to take me anyway. Maybe we should go back inside.

He turns and grabs me by my jacket, at the shoulders and pulls me toward him. I feel his breath on my face and I can hear every breath he takes. It feels as if he may kiss me hard and deep or yell at me to leave him alone. Had I gone to far this time? He doesn’t do either he just looks at me. I cant read his intention but the longer he holds on to me and the harder he holds on I can feel myself begin to really want him. I can feel the tingling between my legs and a warm feeling up my body. We don’t say a word we just stare at one another. I think I went to far.

He lays me back against the hood of the car. I can feel my head and shoulders being pushed against the esenyurt escort car. I move trying to get away but I cant get up. With one hand still holding on to my jacket and the other trying to find its way though my coat. I don’t want to pull away. I feels so bad, him holding so tight and not saying a word just looking at me. And it feels soo good. Not having control of what is going to happen and not wanting to control. Just having him take all of me for his pleasure or to show me what hes got. No foreplay no sweet words just fucking. Showing me and taking it how he wants it.

He brings his face closer to mine and begins rub his face in to my neck trying to get the scarf out of the way. At the same time I can feel him getting his hand into the bottom of my jacket and yanking it up. I can feel his hand on the inside of my thighs. They are cold and I can feel the desperation in his fingers and he tries to find his way into my panties. I spread my legs only a little but it wasn’t enough I can feel him push them further open with the side of his hand. He was right on target. By the time I feel his finger just in side my lips I am ready, I am wet and so hot. I let out a slight moaning breath.

I can hear him breathing through my scarf and he nibbles on my neck. Is this real could I say no will he stop?? I whisper “No stop” but he doesn’t. I can feel his finger inside me and he slowly pulls it out. And the next time it’s a little harder and a avrupa yakası escort little deeper. And a little harder and a little deeper. I want him to fuck me. I want him to show me how bad he wants to see me cum. I tell him to “fuck me harder. Shove your fingers deeper inside me. Can you get me off? Is that what you want. You wanna see me cum.” Oh god! If this is what finger fucking is all about I am in. He fucked me with his fingers until I thought I couldn’t cum again. And the last time he made me cum. he was pounding his fingers inside me I could feel his palm hit against my clit and I could feel my cum running down the inside of legs. I could barely move, or breath, I couldn’t say a word.

.

When he turned me over face down on the car, undid his belt and pants. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer and I wasn’t in any shape to stop him. I just had to lay there. He grabbed hold of my jacket and shirt and yanked me up on the hood a little more. He spread my legs as far as he could and shoved his cock deep inside me. He kept pounding me from behind holding my jacket and forcing me towards him. He was so deep inside me I could only moan for him to stop. But he didn’t. He kept ramming himself in me faster and deeper. He must have like this because it was long before I heard him let out a quiet moan and I could feel him cum deep inside me. I could feel his cock cumming inside me. I felt him take it out, buttoned his pants and moved back away from me. I just laid face down on the hood recovering from the most incredible fingering and fuck I had ever experienced.

When I finally looked up to see him he was gone.

What had just happened? God please let it happen again.

I still see him around, and we still flirt but we have never talked about it or done anything since. Maybe it was the bra?

Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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As I took a deep breath and your hands lifted my top from my breasts, I saw me sitting on your desk in the trailer office with you standing in front of me. Your hands under my shirt as we kissed and my hands were down your unzipped pants. The heat of that motion burned me from the center of my soul. My knees parted in my short skirt as your body pressed against me and your hips moved between my knees. I pulled my lips from yours and kissed your cheek, your neck, behind your ear, then ran the tip of my tongue along the edge of your ear, nibbling your earlobe as I breathed you in. You are so hot and dusty, and that combined with the heat of your need and intensity are intoxicating. My hands move up your strong chest to the neck of your shirt, pulling the top open as I kiss down your neck to the top of your chest.

The noise from the job outside and the dusty light through the windows create our own world in this room. You have left to door open ever so slightly, just to tease me and make me have to keep my own pleasure a secret that only you will hear with your body. You know how to make me squirm inside to the point of crying out in ecstasy. You smile as you touch my nipples, hearing the soft stuffed moans from my mouth as I kiss your skin.

With my lips halkalı escort kissing your nipples as I feel under your shirt, I raise my big brown eyes to look at you , laughter sparking in my pleading eyes. I know what you are trying to do. This little game of ours always has a fun end. Some days you win and I can no longer control the cries inside. Some days I win and manage to spray my juice on your cock or tongue with only the silent screams of pleasure from my pussy escaping.

My hands go to your hips pushing you back slightly as I slide off the desk and down your body to my knees. I reach behind you and pull your chair to you so you can relax all but one part of your working body. And although I love each muscle of your body, the way they move and tense when you make love to me, the way I see the need in you reflected in their firmness, there is only one muscle I want hard and firm right now. As you sit, I pull your pants just enough to allow to please you. I rest back on my heels and lean forward while my hands take you and surround you. Each time I lay my face next to your swelling prick, I have to catch my breath. My hands look so tiny next to you, and each time I worry of taksim escort being able to do for you the way you want. But as I breath, my hot breath brushing the tip of your head, you sigh quietly and I feel your blood pump faster to bring you up to meet my lips.

I feel you rest your weight back in the chair as your eyes close and you touch my cheek as I softly kiss your cock. Soft, feather kisses from the tip to your perfect balls, and back up the beautiful vein under. Your fingers touch my lips and I take my tongue and run it up your finger to the end and then slowly, firmly suck your finger into my mouth. As you draw your finger from my lips I look up at you again. You look down into my eyes as my wet lips rest against your hardness. My fingers still stroking the length of you and caressing your balls. These loving eyes show no hint of the laughter of a moment ago, instead replaced by a white fire as I lick my lips and turn again to the task at hand.

You stroke my hair and face as I move on you, taking a little more of your rod with each gentle pull back. Each time you touch my face as I suck you, you feel the stifled moans from me through your prick, moving you both the smile and treat me with another swallow of clear şişli escort hot juice.

Your balls begin to tighten, and I start to suck with more fervor and strength. You open your eyes and watch me as I hungrily devour you, all the while rubbing my wet cunt against my heels, as you have told me to. You hear me swallow again and again, never releasing you from my mouth. As You start to shoot your cum into my mouth, I take the full length of you and extend my tongue to touch your throbbing balls. I swallow one then two spurts of cream, then pull back and press your cumming cock against my exposed breasts. I sigh release as the heat covers my aching nipples. I relax against your legs , helping you pull your pants back in place and licking you clean.

As I am licking the last drops from your body, the phone rings and you lean forward to answer it. I slide backward, under the desk as you move your chair forward to write something down and have this call. You smile as you close your legs around me, effectively trapping me under the desk, out of sight of anyone who might look in. I lift up my little ass and you slide your foot between my legs. I lean forward on that leg, grinding my hot little pussy up against you, and resting my chin on my hands over your knee.

I don’t know how long this call will last, or even if you are going to let me out once it is done. But really I don’t care. Down in the small space, in the darkness, “trapped” with the smells of you and me together, is not a bad place to be.

And on my knees for you is where I like to be anyway.

On My Knees for You.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I had been hearing the rumor for months. No one knew quite how it started. No one could say definitively that they were the first. No one seemed to really know much of anything, other than a time and a place.

My name is Stephen. I’m a single guy who works in one of those thirty story office buildings that jut out from the heart of the city. A friend of an acquaintance first told me the story. There was a section of the second floor of the basement parkade where it all happened. It required you to duck into a short, narrow maintenance passage that led into a storage area. Much of the building had been completely renovated almost ten years before, and this area was said to be part of the old design that could not be reworked. In the back of the storage area, past all the clutter and mostly forgotten tools, parts and supplies was a door. At one time, that door served as a reception for the mail trucks. With the new layout moving the mail delivery to a more convenient location, it became just another door. That is, until it all started.

From all the rumors I had heard, it must have been going on for months. As time went on, it became harder and harder to find anyone who had not heard the rumors, and the number of men who claimed to have actually visited the area increased rapidly. But their accounts were generally weak, the location vague, and hardly any two stories sounded similar, so I had my doubts. But the stories intrigued more than just my brain.

It happened on Tuesdays and Thursdays every single week, so the stories went. It started at 5:30, and went on until finished. Some men were regulars, some one timers there to see if it was real, and some chickened out at the last minute, afraid of the entire ordeal.

Men would gather just inside the entrance of the storage area, and waited quietly. The men behind acted as watch for the men before them, ensuring no security guard or maintenance man came their way. One by one, they would make their way to the back, to the single old door with the six-inch high, one-foot wide mail slot. Like a makeshift glory hole, they would hand a twenty-dollar bill through the slot. If it was accepted, and from the tales it was never declined, they would drop their pants and push their cocks through the opening, and let however was on the other side take care of them with the best blow job any of them had ever had.

Like I said, I had my doubts. The whole thing sounded too much like a crazy urban legend: office slut blows anyone for money. No one knew who was on the other halkalı escort side. The room beyond was always dark, and no part of the person’s body was ever seen. The door was always locked, too, and even though a few men had lingered around to try and catch their benefactor, there was obviously a secret way into the room that was being used. And as for the best blow job ever, well, I already had a few spectacular ones myself.

Over the few weeks that followed, I only gave thought to that old door when it was brought up. I tried to concentrate on the daily grind of a dull job. Now that I had heard the story, however, I realized that almost ever day I could overhear someone whispering excitedly about the experience. My curiousity peaked as the legend started taking on reality. I tried to continue to dismiss it, but my male drive and neglected cock started to think otherwise. The final determination was made when I was sitting in one of the building’s coffee shops and overheard two men talking.

”I’m telling ya, it was incredible.”

”Nah, you’re shittin’ me. No one does that.”

”Well someone sure as hell does. I’ve been there twice now. The second was even better than the first. What this chick can do with her mouth and throat, it’ll blow you away.”

”Throat?”

”Yeah, she deepthroats. The last time, the guy in front of me had a nine-inch cock. He said when he thrust forward, he could feel her nose touch his pubes.”

”No way!”

”And the best part, after it’s all done, you can hear her swallow.”

Swallow. Despite the best blow jobs of my life, no chick had ever swallowed. That was enough for me. That same afternoon, I tracked down my acquaintance’s friend, and got the details.

Standing in the noisy, dirty storage room with exposed piping and cables the following Thursday with six other men at 5:30 at night, a few things occurred to me. The legend may not have been as wide spread as I had originally thought. After all, twenty bucks for the best blow job ever, with no strings attached, seemed liked a piece of heaven to me. Where the room should have been full of men, there was just the seven of us. But, men are men. As crude and horny as we are, many of us are just as full of piss and wind. When push comes to shove, many look for the door out. As I stood around in silence and waited, I also could not help but wonder if some men did not use this fantastic resource for the very reason that flashed through my head; taksim escort what was on the other side of that door? Fantasy dictated it should be a gorgeous woman, but it could just easily have been a hideous woman, or worse, a man.

As I forced that possibility out of my head as I looked around and saw the other men looking at me and gesturing towards the back of the room. I was the new guy, and they were giving me first go. I hesitated a moment and looked to the exit, but the men gestured me on. I recognized a few of them, who worked for the same company as me. The rest no doubt worked for the other businesses that occupied the building. None of them spoke, and I somehow doubted that any of them would speak of this to me outside of this room. Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward.

I tried to peer into the slot, but beyond the rim was only darkness. Whoever was in there would be completely anonymous. My acquaintance’s friend went over the routine, so at least I knew what to do. I took the twenty-dollar bill out of my pocket and passed it into the large hole. Almost immediately I felt fingers brush my own as the money was accepted. From the brief touch, I couldn’t tell for certain if they were male or female. They felt soft and supple, so that had to make them female…

I had to make a conscious effort not to look back as I undid did my belt and pants. I pushed them and my boxers to my ankles in one go, allowing the tails of my shirt to cover my ass from the view of the men behind me. Shuffling the few inches forward, I placed my hands of wall for balance and deciding it was now or never, thrust my semi-hard cock into the hole.

A hand wrapped around my cock as quickly as it had taken the money from me, and slowly began to pump me up and down. My cock quickly stiffened to full hardness from the sheer eroticism of the moment and I tried not to moan. I was not prepared for what happened next. I gasped out loud and nearly lost my balance as a warm, wet mouth swallowed me all the way to the hilt, my benefactor’s nose brushing my stomach. I’m not a huge man, certainly no nine inches, but at seven, and a decent girth, I had never known anyone woman to swallow me to the hilt so easily and on the first attempt.

The mouth held me there for several seconds. My knees shook as I tried to look down, to catch some glimpse of a face, but I couldn’t without falling backwards. With a wet plop, the mouth pulled completely free, only to plunge down once more. This time, a tongue reached out şişli escort and tickled my balls. I jerked, doing my best to keep my place and enjoy every sensation as the mouth, throat and tongue of the person on the other side of the door worked over my cock the way no one had ever done before.

The head began to move up and down my cock, sometimes pulling out to lick the sides of my shaft or suck at my balls, but never once using a hand to help. It was magical to me the way the throat constricted every time my cock was plunged into it, squeezing and milking as it begged for my cum. The sensations shot through my cock and into the rest of my body. I could feel my skin burn as the electricity rushed through me.

Only for brief moments was my cock ever not completely engulfed, and those moments were as painfully sensuous as the deepthroating itself. The tongue was everywhere, tasting every part of my cock as the lips moved up and down on my shaft. As the mouth pulled back, the tongue would slide around my cock head, swirling it rapidly before gently trying to push itself into my pisshole. The new sensation would last only a moment before I was swallowed again.

There was a rhythm to all of this that I was not completely aware of, at least not consciously, as each drawback and plunge was accompanied with delicate movements and pressures of the mouth and tongue. My cock was aware of it, though. Each time the nose brushed my stomach, and the tongue lapped at my balls, I tightened and drew that much closer to cumming.

By now I was moaning, completely oblivious to the men behind me as the mouth demanded my entire attention. It wasn’t long before I could take no more. My balls tightened and my cock swelled. The mouth must have sensed this as it started to rapidly bob back and forth on my cock. I groaned, and grabbed at the walls for support as the first blast erupted from me. I was only half way inside, and my cum must have quickly filled the mouth.

It waited as I groaned and twitched and emptied myself, even using the lips and tongue to milk the cum from my cock as the mouth sucked. With a wet plop the mouth pulled free, and I almost fell again when I heard the sounds of swallowing. I don’t know what I would have paid at that moment to have watched it happen. When it was all gone, the mouth returned, warm and reassuring as it gently sucked the remaining beads from my softening cock. The tongue licked my empty balls for a final time and the mouth pulled away.

When I was certain that it would not return, I shuffled back and weakly pulled up my pants with shaking hands. I did not even glance at the man next in line who hurried up to the door, nor at the men I staggered passed on the way out. Stepping back out into the parkade, I tucked in my shirt and straightened my tie, and headed for my car knowing full well I would be back.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bo�altmam� ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32