Ever since I can remember, Helena has been a vital part of our family—I sometimes think the most indispensable part. My mother bridles anytime anyone refers to her as “the maid,” even though she does cook and clean up after us, which we certainly wouldn’t be able to do for ourselves. “Housekeeper” is more like it, but still makes her sound like a mere hired hand. “Mother hen” probably captures it best. No one could ever say a bad word about her. She is the kindest, sincerest woman, always greeting us with a cheerful grin. She says our family is her pride and joy aside from her daughter, Izabella.
I often wondered if we could survive without Helena. Fortunately, for the longest time we never had to find out! In all the years she had worked for our family, she’d only missed one day of work, and that had been when she gave birth to Izabella 21 years before. Those were some of the thoughts running through my head when I took the phone call from her that morning, wondering how on earth I was going to break the news to my mother.
Life was getting too predictable in my hairdressing business. I could close my eyes and walk through my daily routine—have my shampoo girl Laura (fresh out of beauty school) whisk my next client to the back sink to wash her hair, then usher the lady onto my chair (my “throne,” I call it, since I make my clients feel like royalty), towel-dry her hair while chitchatting about her latest heartbreak while on autopilot I snip and sculpt her into the goddess I know she has inside her.
Poof! Like magic, she melts in my hands. Her problems—typically dissolved relationships, cheating spouses, backstabbing friends or family dramatics—all fade away by the time I blow her out. My clients leave feeling on top of the world, which is why they always come back to me, however deep they have to dig into their pockets. My services don’t come cheap, but they seem to feel that the price of beauty is worth it. My ladies leave radiant, looking like they stepped off the pages of a Hollywood gossip rag, feeling like rock stars!
1. “Remember to wear your Armani tux tonight”
The banquet to raise a cure for some-disease-or-other is being held tonight on my parents’ sprawling estate. My mother lives for charity events. She’s all about “giving back,” which she can afford, since she has enough money to eliminate the hunger crisis in Africa. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a tad. Actually, it’s amazing that we have any money left. It’s “old money” now, but Mother came by it the good old-fashioned way: through her bloodline of robber barons. Miraculously, it has sustained four generations of greedy, grubby hands, including mine.
Life as a trust-fund kid has been, well, highly satisfactory. I noticed early on that I seemed to worry way less than my less fortunate friends, hardly ever experienced shame and never heard “no.” I have a passion for fast cars and even faster women. As soon as they find out who I am, they seem to go down on me like it’s a competition for Slut of the Week, with the prize being a chance of becoming my wife.
As if! At age 26, I like things just fine just the way they are, and plan to keep them that way. A lifetime of fucking is kind of what I have in mind.
Over breakfast Mother reminds me, “Douglas, remember to wear your Armani tux tonight,” adding, “You have to look your best for the auction.” While I roll my eyes, our live-in maid Dolores refills my coffee cup. I’ll need all the caffeine I can get flowing through my veins in order to get through tonight.
I was in a foul mood. My two-week business trip had been cut short due to client error, and then, since I had no other business in the area, I’d had to change my return flight reservation at the last minute. Of course, then my flight was canceled, and I’d had to spend the night in a hotel I wouldn’t have booked my worst enemy in.
But finally, after a five-hour flight, I was riding in a limo and homeward-bound. I couldn’t wait to get there. All I could think about was changing my clothes, pouring myself a drink and putting my feet up.
As the driver pulled up in front of my house, the first thing I noticed was the sound of music—but not just music. I’m talking about thumping-bass, where’s-the-party-at music. I mean, it wasn’t late, but it was after ten.
Naughty and complicated—that’s how I would describe my sex life. Proudly spinning a web of lies and deceptions that eventually rises up to the surface. My pussy is always open and ready for anything.
Life wasn’t always so intriguing. It was rather dull. Just a year ago, I was a devoted military wife, standing behind her man, praying for his safety, hoping for a speedy homecoming—to make up for all the sexless days and nights. I stayed up every night full of turmoil and loneliness. That was, until I found out the dirty truth about my husband.
Ron had come home from his first six-month stint in the Middle East, and being a diligent wife, I unpacked his duffel bags and was mindlessly loading the laundry bags when a shiny material caught my eye. In between a grimy pair of socks, a red pair of silk panties flashed at me. As I unrolled the skimpy G-string, my mind grew suspicious. Either Ron was a panty-stealer, or he was a panty-wearer, or he was screwing the panty-wearer. I brought the moist panties up to my nose and sniffed. Sure enough, it was the scent of a woman. My marine husband was getting serviced in the service. So much for thinking he was hard up!
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It was only the second time I’d set foot in the club with my girlfriends. The first time was still fresh in my mind. I’d met this guy—not really my type, good-looking but a little on the short side for my taste—and before I knew it we were tongue-wrestling and feeling each other up in a dark corner. That’s not really my style, but I’d had a few, the DJ was tossing out killer beats, and I hadn’t had sex in about a month. Luckily, I came to my senses and moved on to dance with someone else, then left with my friends before Shorty caught up with me. A week later I found myself at the same club with the same friends. This time, though, I wasn’t as horny, having had a few fuck sessions with my faithful vibe. I was cool, calm and collected. Or so I thought.
I was sitting at the bar with one of my friends when the bartender came over and placed refills of our drinks next to us, saying they were “compliments of the gentleman,” pointing to the end of the bar. We both looked, and I cringed when I saw my make-out buddy from the week before! Not good. But it wasn’t Shorty who raised his glass to salute us. Standing next to last week’s reject was a tall, dark, broad-shouldered hottie. Definitely biker material. Definitely fuckable. He didn’t smile, and neither did I. I leaned toward my girlfriend so she could hear me over the pounding bass and asked her what she thought. I knew he wasn’t her type, but best to make sure. I don’t mind sharing myself—two men are definitely better than one. But I don’t share my men with other women. Fortunately, she had just three words for me as she grabbed both her unfinished drink and the fresh one: “Have at him.” With that, she took her drinks and left the bar, worming her way through the crowd.
I turned my attention back to Biker Dude to see if he would follow my friend or take the newly vacated seat next to me. His dark eyes held mine captive. As I waited for him to come over, Shorty spotted the empty seat, waved at me and started over. This was so fucked up! With what had to be a look of utter panic on my face, I downed the remainder of my drink, picked up the refill and left the bar as quickly as the crowd would allow. Heading for the far side of the club, I made my way around the dance floor, trying to put as much square footage as possible between Shorty and me, hoping Biker Dude would follow.
About an hour later I was bored, and with no sign of Biker Dude, I was ready to leave. Then, as my friends and I were leaving, I saw him. He was in the parking lot, leaning against his Triumph, holding his helmet. I took one look at him, told my friends I’d call them in the morning and sauntered up to him. I walked around the bike, admiring the chrome detail and the fat tires, and felt my heart start to race. When I completed my inspection, I stopped next to him. “Thanks for the drink,” I said. He looked down at my jeans and over the knee boots with heels not really meant for riding. “Wanna go for a ride?” he asked, his voice deep and rumbling, and full of danger and power, like I imagined his bike would feel and sound if I rode it.
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “I definitely want a ride.” I’m sure he knew that my answer was meant to be taken any way he wanted, but to make sure, I leaned into him and let my hand drop to his fly. I lightly cupped his package, feeling the solid mass there, and thought, oh baby, what a ride this is going to be! “And how do you like your rides?” he rumbled. “Hard and fast—to start,” I purred as I rubbed up against him. “Then slow and long.” “Then let’s get going, girl.” He gave me his heavy leather jacket to wear, which practically swallowed me, and produced an additional helmet, which he fastened under my chin. Then he put on his own helmet and climbed on the bike, and it roared to life. He glanced over his shoulder and I climbed on behind him, plastering the front of my body against him and slipping my arms around his deliciously hard body. I’d ridden a bike on my own, but I still found the thrill of ripping up the road with someone else at the helm better than any high. And that steady vibration between my legs was almost enough to make me cream my pants. God, it was fan-fucking-tastic! I hugged my new bad boy with arms and thighs, my face flush to his broad back. The only thing better would have been him fucking me as the scenery flew past us.
Since I couldn’t have his dick at that moment, I turned my face and sank my teeth into his shoulder—not really hard, but enough to get his attention, I thought. The bike slowed gradually until Biker Dude pulled off to the side of the road. I stepped off the bike, and he rolled it off the shoulder into the grass. I leaned up against a tree, and waited for him to come and take me. The headlight from the bike was behind him, so I couldn’t make out the expression on his face, but it didn’t matter. He was a hard-muscled body of walking sex. I wanted him. When he was standing right in front of me, I asked him his name. “Does it matter?” he asked. “Yes,” I said, while unbuckling his belt. “I need to be able to scream out your name when you fuck me into oblivion.” “Jesus,” he said. “Really?” I said. “How convenient.” His skin was a deep bronze color, which I’d mistaken for a tan. Mmm! I was lowering his zipper when he kissed me. It was sudden and consuming and had me revved up and ready to ride, no foreplay needed.
He crushed me against the trunk of the tree with his strength, and I reveled in his power. His tongue searched my mouth, exploring every nook and cranny, while his hips thrust against me. His fly was open, and I had better access to his hot rod. It was bigger than I thought, now that it was free of the confines of his jeans—no boxers or briefs to bother with. I was ready to ride, but Jesus had other plans. He palmed my breasts, then lowered his head and sucked my nipple through my shirt, leaving a big wet spot. I raised my hands over my head, arching my back and pushing my tits forward. He let out a deep moan, and his hands slipped up along my ribs. He pushed my shirt up and just stared. Then he squeezed my mounds together and sucked one tit through the lace bra, laving the hard peak of my nipple before moving over to the other breast. He switched back and forth between the two, giving them equal attention, while I moaned and quivered with pleasure.
I snaked my hand down into his pants and rubbed my palm along his dick. Jesus got the message and started in on my tight-fitting jeans, peeling them down along with my thong while I used one foot to try to work the boot off the other. He stopped kissing me long enough to yank off my boots and pants; then he was back to kissing the life out of me. His cock felt like a burning rod against my stomach as I thrust my hips against him. “Fuck me!” I moaned into his mouth. I gripped Jesus’s shoulders and hopped up, wrapping my legs around his waist, rubbing my needy breasts against his chest. He supported me, his muscular arms under my thighs, his rough hands gripping my ass cheeks. Then he lifted me up and brought me down on his thick cock. I felt every inch of it as it wedged itself deep inside me. The feeling was indescribable. With my back braced against the tree and Jesus bearing my weight, he withdrew halfway and slammed his cock back in me. I screamed out my pleasure. Over and over he repeated the sweet torture, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. And when I came, screaming out his name, he didn’t stop. The thrusts continued until he brought me to a thundering climax, and then still continued, until I felt like a rag.
Through the haze of unending bliss, I realized Jesus hadn’t come. Or if he had, he was still hard as a rock. His thrusts slowed, and he lowered me to the ground. When he pulled out of me, my cunt was dripping. It felt empty. After he’d stripped off his boots and jeans, I pulled him up closer to my head and started licking and sucking his meat, tasting myself along with his precome. A combination of our essences—salty and tangy—hit my senses, and I did my best to deep-throat him. He tasted really good, and he was really hard. He started fucking my mouth, and because he was on top, he had leverage over me. I relaxed my throat and took him as deep as I could, enjoying the feel of him being in control. I don’t know how long he kept it up, but just when my jaw was beginning to ache from holding it open for so long, his rhythm began to falter, and after three more strokes he groaned and shuddered and released more come than I could handle.
Jesus rolled to his side, pulling me with him as some of the overflow ran out of my mouth. Panting and sweating, I leisurely licked up every drop that I had missed from his dick. Then I wiped my face with my top and pulled him close for a kiss, giving him back a little of his come. I couldn’t believe I’d just fucked a stranger like a wild animal in the woods. I felt fantastic. “And your name would be,” he said, his hand slipping deftly under my top and playing with the lace cup of my bra. “Tara,” I said. Feeling blissfully sated, I arched my back like a cat, pushing my breast against his hand. “Well, Tara,” he said, “I hope you’re not tired.” “Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys with a short recovery time,” I said. “Kinda,” he said as he used his considerable strength to rip my bra open from the front. He helped me slip my arms out of his jacket, then rolled on top of me. “You did say you like your rides hard and fast.” “To start, yes,” I moaned. Jesus’s fingers were tugging and twisting my sensitive nipples. I began to squirm and writhe from the growing need within me. Yeah, I could go again if he kept this up. I have a healthy sex drive, but this was insane. My whole body was heating up again. I rubbed my thighs together.
“Wait,” I said. “Give me your shirt.” We were in a grassy area, and his jacket protected my back, but I still felt bits of gravel digging into my butt and the backs of my thighs. Jesus pulled off his shirt, and I told him to spread it underneath me. He did. I expected him to resume his attentions to my tits, but he got sidetracked. “Mmm,” he groaned against the inside of my thigh. I felt him nudge my legs farther apart. Then he pushed his shoulders under my thighs and started snacking on my pussy. He took his time, learning every intimate part of me, his tongue languidly furrowing into every crevice, lapping up every bit of wetness he could find. His tongue was everywhere—except for my clit!
When he’d driven me to the brink of insanity, I felt him push one of those big fingers up inside me. Only then did I feel his tongue brush fleetingly over my sensitive nub. I wanted to come really bad, but he kept me right on the edge by withholding that last push. He started sliding his finger in and out through my wetness. He added another finger, then scissored and twisted them, just missing that pressure point inside me. He had me writhing with abandon, trying to ride his fingers and get them deeper inside me. “More, Jesus,” I begged. “I need more. Make me come.” I couldn’t ever remember feeling so desperate for release. “More what, Tara?” he said, taunting me in between quick swipes of his tongue. “Tell me what you want.” Oh God! I was half out of my mind, and he wanted me to tell him what I wanted. I was so going to get him back for this. “Suck my clit!” I screamed. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”
I couldn’t believe I was begging, clawing at his shoulders. I never, ever beg, but Jesus had me feeling like I was hard up—like I would die if he decided to withhold sex. Suddenly I knew that when this night was over, I couldn’t see Jesus again—not ever. I grabbed the back of his head and pulled his face into my crotch, grinding my pussy against his face. I thought I heard a weird noise but wasn’t sure what it was. Then I heard it again. Was he laughing at my needy ass? All sense of reason left me when he sucked my clit into his mouth and turned those fingers up to press on my sweet spot. I went off like a rocket, locking his head between my legs. I wailed out his name and drenched his face and hand with my juices. Done. I’m so done. “Come on, Tara.” “Mmm?” I murmured.
“What?” Jesus hadn’t come again, but the way I felt, that was his problem. I was content to just lay there, basking in the aftermath of great sex. Fuck him! “Come on, baby,” Jesus rumbled against the pulse in my neck, kissing and licking and biting that secret spot no one’s supposed to know about. “You’re not done yet.” From the feel of his big hard-on, he was ready for more fucking. At the mere thought, my hands came up to clutch his ass and I felt my traitorous pussy muscles clench and throb with renewed desire. Biker Dude was going to be the death of me. “Let’s do something different,” he said. He stood up and pulled me to my feet. My legs felt like rubber, and I leaned against him for support. He pulled off the jacket and tossed it on the ground. My shirt and what was left of my bra quickly followed. He stood behind me, and his hands came around and cupped my breasts. I leaned back against his chest and let my head fall back on his shoulder.
I loved the feel of his muscular chest against my back. He went back to kissing and licking my neck. Every now and then he’d suck my skin into his mouth. I knew he was marking me, and I didn’t care. I wanted him to. I wanted to be able to look in the mirror afterward and relive one of the best nights of my life. Maybe I’d even masturbate, although my vibrator would be a poor substitute for Jesus’s big dick. I started to moan and rub my ass against his cock. I had just come, but I felt more wetness leak out of my horny cunt and trickle down the insides of my thighs. He’d been working my nipples and massaging my breasts all this time. Then one hand moved down the front of my body and didn’t stop until it was between my legs. I placed my hand over his and clamped them between my thighs.
“You’re really wet, baby,” he whispered. “You must want my cock inside you again.” He walked me over to the bike and told me to lean forward on the seat. As soon as I was in position, he leaned over me, covering my body with his, and I felt that big cock of his nudging into me from behind, stretching me once again, filling me to the max. “Still want it hard, Tara?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous-sounding. Did I? Oh, hell yeah. “Oh yeah, bad boy,” I said. “Fuck me the way you ride this bike.” That’s all it took. Jesus grabbed my hair with one hand, the bike handle with the other, and started fucking the daylights out of me—really hard, deep and fast. I held onto the bike for dear life as his hips hammered against my ass. Forget about screaming his name—I came keening like some wild woman in the throes of passion. I was panting and grunting when the tempo of his thrusts changed, slowing to a steady pounding. Along with that change in pace came a stinging slap to my right ass cheek. Shock and heat were the sensations that registered first, then hot desire as he followed that slap with three hard thrusts to my cunt, then another quick slap.
I’d never been spanked before. I’d never even thought about it. But I liked it. It ramped up my horny factor. And then when the third slap came, I screamed. “Oh, Jesus!” I shrieked. Tears streamed down my face. Jesus kept fucking me, but he’d picked up the pace again. The strokes were coming hard and fast again. I didn’t know when he would let go of my hair, but his hand had moved down between my legs. He found my clit and pressed. Between the fucking, the pressure on my clit and not knowing when the next stinging slap was going to come, the pressure had built again. The climax brought with it another drenching release. Jesus finally reached his peak. He pushed into me three more times, each hard thrust sending a load of hot cream pulsing into my love canal. When he slipped out of my hole, a stream of fluids ran down my legs. If it wasn’t for the bike, I’d have slid to the ground. I felt cool air on my back when Jesus stood up. Well, that’s nice, I thought, one of us could still walk. I heard him move around the side of the bike and open a compartment. From it he produced a rag. He proceeded to wipe down my legs.
“Do you live around here?” he asked. “I could use a shower.” “A shower? You fuck me silly and that’s all you have to say?” Really! This guy had just given me amazing sex, ridiculous orgasms, and he wanted to talk shower? “Well, yeah,” he said. “It’ll be daylight soon and I thought we could clean up. Then maybe go out for waffles and chicken. Aren’t you hungry?” I thought about it for a couple of seconds and realized I could eat. I hate to cook, and if he wanted to take me to breakfast, the least I could do was let him shower. We were both grimy and sticky, and probably smelled like sex. “Sure, why not?” I said. “I live about ten minutes from here.” “Cool. I can’t wait to get you in the shower.” Every muscle in my body was crying out no más! I began pulling my clothes on. Then, watching Jesus get dressed, I thought about how that incredible body would look all slick with soap and water. And shit, didn’t my pussy start to twitch again!
Well, we made it back to my place, and yes, I did fuck Jesus again in the shower. And on the sofa, and in the bed. We called out for breakfast, and thank God, he got ready to leave after that. As he was leaving, I told him I didn’t want to see him again because he wasn’t good for me. End of story, right? Wrong! He said he’d already rented a place not too far from me and he’d stop by after he finished moving in.
I said fine.•
My best friend Julia suggested we book a trip to Canc n for spring break. At first I was wary, since I grew up watching the MTV cameras capturing spring breakers making fools of themselves there. I am not one to expose a” lot of skin, join in on wet T-shirt contests, get drunk or make out on a whim, let alone actually have sex with strangers, which the spring break crowd is famous for. So I knew Canc n wasn’t the place for me.
All my friends refer to me as the shy overachiever, the overpleaser whose biggest fear is losing control. There’s some truth to that, since I view partying and getting wasted as a poor excuse to” hook up and act irresponsible. I was” proud to say I never got wasted. Throughout my teenage years and early 20s, the only time I had sex was” with my long-term boyfriend, and it” took almost a year for him to pop my cherry. We have since broken up, him doing the breaking, complaining that he needed more sex.
It’s not that I don’t know how to have fun. I just don’t need to embarrass myself by overexposing myself. I’ve witnessed too many of my friends making themselves vulnerable, having sex with” heartless jerks, falling into the trap that girls can have sex with no strings attached. As the voice of reason, I’m the one who ends up supplying the tis sues after my friends’ booty calls make them feel cheap and used.
“Can’t we go somewhere more relaxing?” I pleaded with Julia. “Somewhere less “‘party central’?”
“Come on, Haley,” she said, still sitting glued to her laptop researching travel sites. “You’re only young once.”
“Why does young have to mean stupid?” I said.
“Who said anything about stupid?” she said. “It’s not like you’ve even been to Canc n. Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” With total disregard for my party phobia, she was scrolling through screenfuls of Canc n trips.
“Why not Aruba?” I said. “I heard the beaches are beautiful, the sunsets are sensational, and”"”
Julia cut me off. “Sounds like a perfect honeymoon spot,” she teased. “We’re only 22. We need nightlife, not a romantic getaway.”
I rolled my eyes. I hated to admit that maybe she was right. Maybe I was just being difficult.
“Look!” she said. “I found a three-star resort offering a great all- inclusive deal.” I leaned in closer to view the details, and was intrigued enough to agree to take the virtual tour. We saw a” tropical oasis filled with palm trees, blue skies and white sandy beaches.
“So what do you think?” Julia said. “The place even has a swim-up bar!”
She knew I wasn’t keen on drinking. Nevertheless, even though every bone in my body was telling me not to fall for” the hype, the photos of fresh-faced kids partying it up were calling out my name. My friend was right, Canc n looked too good to pass up.
“Let’s book it!” I said, handing Julia my credit card since hers was maxed out . She grabbed the card in a flash to make sure I didn’t come to my senses and change my mind.
A month later Julia and I boarded the plane headed for Mexico. I had to admit I was stoked about the trip. I had yet to go on a vacation without my family. I felt grown-up, and was looking forward to time away without round-the-clock parental supervision, or the annoying presence of my older brother.
I imagined maybe even forgoing some of my “good girl” ways”"but promised myself I wouldn’t allow my morals to crash and burn on the other side of the border. It was just a chance to try to peel away some of my inhibitions. Sipping a few tropical drinks, for a start. In my newfound free-spirited vacation mind-set, I might go so far as” to allow myself to make out with a worthy guy”"as Julia reminds me regularly, a little fun never killed anyone. So a little fun was on the program, but nothing more.
However, almost as soon as we arrived at the hotel, throwing on our bikinis and swimming up to that swim-up pool bar, my “program” hit a bump. Julia ordered us pink drinks that I figured were nonalcoholic. I chugged a couple, and soon my brain felt fuzzy. I” was giggling at everything. After my third, I asked Julia why I was feeling tipsy from the fruity concoctions.
“Silly, those drinks have major alcohol in them,” she said, laughing. She knew I’d never gotten drunk before.
“Oh, no wonder my head’s spinning,” I whined.
“What “‘d you think, I’d give you virgin drinks?” she said, clanking my plastic cup with hers. “Drinks are all-inclusive. Remember, we’re here to have fun!”
Against my better judgment I finished the third drink. And that’s when I began making a fool of myself. I swam toward the deep end of the pool, and given that my brain was awash in alcohol I shouldn’t have been surprised that I nearly drowned. I couldn’t even manage a dog paddle. I felt more like a dying frog. My arms flailed, and I swallowed water each time I bobbed up to” the surface. I felt myself starting to black out when I caught a glimpse of a” shadowy figure moving toward me. Miraculously, I was scooped out of the water and laid down flat on a towel on the concrete floor by the pool.
I choked a few times, then spit up some water. Finally I regained my fac ulties, and when my eyes came into focus, my field of vision was filled with a bronzed muscular figure. Scorching brown eyes were boring into me, and a pair of full lips was so close to my face, I felt warm breath tickling my skin.
“Are you okay?” His sexy Latin accent echoed in my ears.
“Yeah,” I gasped, “I’m more embarrassed than anything.” I propped myself up off the towel, resting my weight on my elbows while peering into the eyes of the hottest man I ever came in contact with.
“Muy bonita,” he said under his breath. I smiled, since thanks to my high school Spanish I knew he had referred to me as “very pretty.” He extended his hand and helped me get” upright. I was shaky standing, still” groggy from consuming so much alcohol, and then all that pool water.
“Thanks for saving me,” I said weakly. To keep me steady he drew me” toward his buff body. When he wrapped his arm around my waist, my heart fluttered. I couldn’t help it. My eyes were fixed on his rippled muscles. I was so tipsy, I almost reached out and touched him.
“Where are you from?” he asked. I noticed that he was studying my body as well.
“Montana,” I said. “But I’m on spring break.” I guess I was trying to rationalize why I was misbehaving.
“Yeah, I grew up around here,” he said. “It can get pretty wild. Try not to get too crazy.” As we linked fingers, I felt light-headed.
“I promise I’ll try,” I said, winking in my version of flirtatiousness. “No need to worry about me. I am always the responsible one.”
As soon as the words escaped my mouth, I knew I was about to break one of my cardinal guy rules: Never make the first move. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol making me brave or gratitude for my rescue, but walking alongside the pool hand in hand with my gorgeous rescuer was making me totally horny. Without an ounce of hesitation I” brushed my lips over his moist, luscious ones. I caught him off guard”"he was in mid-sentence when I slipped my tongue in his mouth and set it to tangling with his tongue.
When he recovered from his surprise, he cradled my face in his hands and flooded me with steamy kisses. This time when my knees began to wobble I knew it wasn’t because of my drinking or near-drowning, it was from the passionate make-out session.
Our kisses quickly elevated to stand-up dry humping. Since my bathing suit was made of such flimsy material, I felt my rescuer’s erection rubbing against my swollen button, making my nipples so hard that they were protruding through my bikini top.
Abandoning my usual caution, I reached below his waist and through his bathing trunks fondled his ball sac. He quickly broke away from our heated embrace.
“What’s the matter?” I asked. “Don’t you want me?”
What had gotten into me? I could only blame the intense Mexican heat, and the intense Mexican standing beside me. I wasn’t behaving at all like myself. First I threw myself at a complete stranger, and then I challenged his hesitation to take things further!
“Actually, I have to teach a scuba lesson in a few minutes,” he said, glancing at the clock hanging above the pool.
“Oh, I didn’t realize that you work here,” he said. “I don’t want to get you in trouble. I guess I’ll join my friend for lunch.” He didn’t seem concerned, since he patted my ass playfully in front of everyone.
We agreed to meet after his shift was over. I felt better that he hadn’t blown me off. Still, when I lunched with Julia I” had some apprehension about my planned hookup. She expressed shock when I told her I was going to meet up with my Mexican stud later. She warned me that we were in a foreign place and I shouldn’t go so fast with someone I didn’t know.
In just a day the tables had turned! I” was always the voice of reason, trying to convince my friend to think rationally. Now I was the hothead, allowing my moist pussy to lead the way. I assured Julia that I wouldn’t let anything get out of hand. She urged me at least to stay on the resort grounds, and like a protective mother she gave me one of her phone cards, insisting that I shouldn’t hesitate to call her if I felt like I was in any sort of danger. I couldn’t help but laugh. She really needed to find her own play-buddy.
After lunch I changed into a miniskirt that accented my long slender legs, a tank top that showed off my flat stomach and voluptuous tits, and a pair of lacy panties framing my fine ass. I admired my sun-kissed skin. Wow, there was something about Mexico that gave my skin a glowing natural bronze tone. Before I headed out I spritzed my neck with a vanilla-coconut body spray.
I found the man I’d been lusting for all afternoon standing under a swaying palm tree. I admired how his jet-black hair blew across his scruffy, chiseled face. Along with the gorgeous face came his sexy body”"muscular legs, a ripped six-pack and a love trail leading toward his concealed package. When our eyes locked, I felt my panties moistening. His intoxicating chocolate eyes and rock-hard body had powers unto themselves, not least the power to make me shed my good-girl self.
” Qu pasa?” he said.
I wondered why that sounded so much sexier in Spanish. Whenever a guy back home asked me “what’s up,” I” tended to ignore him, thinking he lacked originality. For some reason I found this the sexiest question imaginable, and responded in kind.
“I hope you’re up,” I said, giggling. And by the look of things, he was. He had a high rise in his pants. When he wrapped his arm around my slender waist, I ground my twat through his pants into his boner. He slunk his fingers up my tank top until he made full contact with my bare full breasts. From his mere touch my nipples stiffened. He tweaked them while reaching under my miniskirt and finding my swollen clit through my lace panties. I threw my head back as he fondled my mound and tits. I was fired up.
“Let’s go someplace more private,” he suggested. Onlookers were taking notice of our playful encounter.
“Would you like to go back to my room?” I suggested, trying not to lose all my good sense.
He suggested that we hang out in his bungalow down by the beach. Surprisingly, my sluttiness radar didn’t kick in. I found myself heading with him to a” secluded area with no worries, only sensual fantasies.
His metal-roofed place wasn’t impressive, yet I couldn’t wait to enter our love shack. Inside, there was a weathered mattress on the floor, a rusty, dripping sink, a shower stall in the corner and an outdated stereo. He flicked on the stereo, and it put out soft romantic melodies. As they filled the room, he peeled off all his clothes. My horniness got the best of me as I viewed his masterpiece. I couldn’t wait another second and kneeled before him and took hold of his impressive shaft. I licked it, swirling my tongue all along the mushroom head while my hand stroked the shaft.
He must have been enjoying my lickjob, because he was moaning, encouraging me to stuff my mouth with his entire sausage. However, that seemed like it’d be a huge challenge. His manhood looked to be a foot long, and thicker than I was accustomed to. Regardless of my lack of experience giving BJs”"let alone to a monster dick”"I opened my mouth the widest it” could possibly open and slowly he slid his cock in until it was all the way in. I thought I was going to gag, but I relaxed and found a comfort zone, and proceeded to suck him eagerly.
“Oh yeah, suck my cock!” he urged. The faster he pumped it, the faster my strokes, sucks and licks became. No longer was I intimidated by his meat. I commanded it masterfully. I creamed myself when I heard him grunting with pleasure, reaching his breaking point. I ” wasn’t brave enough to try to swallow his load, since I gathered it would be abundant, judging by the size of him, so I released his dick from my mouth”"just in time for the monster to explode all over my face. Oh, how I relished that hot come shower!
“How ’bout I get a taste of you?” he said, tossing me onto the mattress and stripping off all my clothes. He headed right to my moist pussy. “Wow, you’re really wet.” The instant his smoldering tongue snaked over my stiff clit, I was wincing in ecstasy. I thrashed around as his magical tongue probed my pussy. It didn’t take long before I lost control, smashing my twat onto his face. He lapped up all my juices as I convulsed in the biggest and loudest O” of my young life.
When I thought we were finished for” the night, I caught a glimpse of his elongated, glistening hard-on inching toward my drenched hole. As he leaned over me, I worried that he might stretch my labia to the point of making me look like I had given birth to six kids. But all concern dissipated when he slowly but steadily plowed his big cock in me. Sur prisingly, my pussy accommodated that huge pole. I almost melted. When he started fucking me slowly, I held on for the ride of my life.
Every thrust was divine. Passion enveloped us, and we fucked wildly. Our bodies were soon drenched from the energy we put into our screw session. When he hit the right spot, my breathing became heavy and I felt my” blood rush down toward my pussy. I clutched his ass, making sure he focused on my bingo-over-the-top area. In a complete rush, my legs shook in a” spasm, followed by the rest of my body, until I broke out in another earth-shattering orgasm. While I shuddered, he shot his load. Our creams mixed and ran down my leg.
I curled up with him until the sun came up. “Morning, sunshine,” a husky voice whispered in my ear.
At first I was in a fog, disoriented as” to my whereabouts. When my eyes came into focus, I was greeted by the allure of my Mexican lover’s morning wood in my face. Instantly, I drew it into my mouth and gave him my best treatment. From his moans I guessed he wouldn’t last too long, and I was right. After I’d sucked him for only a few minutes, he burst. I swallowed his endless flow, and it tasted delectable.
When I finally got back to my hotel room, Julia had left a note for me to meet her poolside. I got into another eye-pleasing bikini and found my friend catching rays. I reclined on the lounge next to her and tapped her thigh to get her attention.
“Hey, Haley,” she said, “you had me worried last night. I couldn’t sleep. Now I know how my mother feels when I’m out partying. You couldn’t have just given me a ring?” She propped her sunglasses on top of her head so she could stare me down in an attempt to make me feel guilty. It wasn’t working.
“I was busy,” I said.
“I’m sure you were,” she said, shaking her head.
“Anyway,” I said, “he invited me to a wet T-shirt contest tonight. He thinks I can win the 5000 prize.” I smiled at her, ignoring her frown.
“Haley,” she said, “you don’t even know his name, do you?”
“Well, no,” I admitted.
“You slept with a stranger, and now you’re entering a wet T-shirt contest. Haley, what got into you?” she asked,
“I’m having a little fun,” I said.
“Well,” she said, “it’s about time!” “
A blizzard was predicted for the entire tri-state area. The forecast called for an accumulation of between two and three feet. Let it snow! Each inch meant double pay for me. Plowing is easy money. While some men bitch about the grueling hours and back-breaking labor, I look forward to snowstorms. The more white stuff on the ground, the more green stuff in my pockets.
One of my most profitable accounts is a gated condo complex. Incredible pains in the ass, most of those people! As soon as I saw the first snowflake fall, I thought of this old fart I’d taken to calling Crabby O’Dylan. Every year for 15 years he threatened to sue me if I didn’t clear his walkway perfectly, leaving me swearing under my breath that the guy wouldn’t be satisfied unless I caught the snow before it hit the ground. I fantasized about letting the old blankety-blank take a spill and break his hip.
Surprisingly, the weathermen got their shit right for once. By mid-morning the snowfall was balls-deep. Cars were buried, kids were celebrating school closings, and the flakes were still falling at a steady pace. I was going on no sleep, two Egg McMuffins and a Thermos of stale coffee. I didn’t see an end in sight. Luckily, the machinery hadn’t broken down on me. If I had to call in for backup, that would eat up a lot of my profits.
I approached Crabby O’Dylan’s walk and unloaded the salt and shovels. I’m not sure how long it took me to clear the landing, but it was long enough to work up a sweat. When the front door creaked open, I expected to hear Crabby growl, “You just saved yourself a lawsuit.” However, instead of Crabby’s crabbed old puss with the bottle-cap glasses, I beheld a dark-haired woman looking to be in her mid-20s, wearing an ankle-length black silk robe tied around her thin waist.
I had to recheck the address number. It was number 76, all right, and as far back as I could remember number 76 had been Crabby’s domain, but you could hardly imagine a less Crabby-like presence than the vision standing there in the doorway. My sleep-deprived brain groped for an explanation. All it could come up with was that I was in a horny-induced mirage state. I needed sleep stat! I rubbed my eyes, but still the stunner stood there, flashing her exotic brown eyes my way.
“So you’re living here with Crabby O’Dylan?” I heard myself saying.
I bit my lip, but not my tongue fast enough. I couldn’t believe I’d referred to him as “Crabby.” What if this was his granddaughter? Or, worse yet, his lover? These days nothing fazes me. So the old fart needed a cane to stand upright, but maybe he used it to pleasure this angel. Some women would rather fuck a rich dying dude than work for a living.
“I never met Mr. O’Dylan,” she said in a silky voice. “I’m afraid he passed away six months ago. I’m Hannah. I just bought the place last month. It was a fantastic deal. The place needed a lot of work, but it was a great investment.”
I was only half listening to the words coming out of her mouth. I was too distracted peering at her generous cleavage to comprehend anything. I was intrigued to notice that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her hard nipples protruded through her robe. I wondered if their stiffness was due to the frigid temps outside but secretly hoped she was as aroused by my presence as I was by hers. My cock stirred in my pants. I had the urge to rip her robe open and have my way with her on the spot. Blood was thumping through me on its way to my rising dick.
“Anyway,” she said, smiling, “I just wanted to thank you so much for doing such a fabulous job. My walk looks flawless.” She acted as if she was oblivious to the fact that I had the start of a boner sticking out at her.
“Yeah, no problem,” I said, trying not to focus too much on the outline of her big tits rising up and down as she breathed. My cock ached for her.
“Can I offer you a fresh cup of coffee?” the gorgeous stranger asked. Coffee? Was there any chance that “coffee” was a code word for sex? If so, you could count me in!
“Sure,” I replied without hesitation. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”
“I have one rule, though,” she said. “You need to take your grimy boots off. I just got new carpet installed.” She was grinning, and the mention of carpet made my dirty mind wander. Did she have dark brown carpet down below that matched her hair, or was her snatch bare? As I pondered the thought of her lady grooming, I felt her delicate hand touch my callused hand. She locked her fingers around mine and led me through the doorway.
I chucked off my work boots, leaving them to drip on the front mat. I glanced around the unit. It looked like a brand-new place! No longer did plastic covers protect an ancient floral couch that was long past any need for protecting. There were no more chipped linoleum tiles covering the floors. Instead there was a red leather couch, with a fresh coat of paint and new carpeting that spruced the place up beyond recognition. And all done in a month!
“Wow, I really like what you did to the place,” I said. I still couldn’t get over the decor upgrade. But the upgrade I was really in awe of was standing there in front of me, the best upgrade in the entire complex—hell, in the entire city.
“Yeah, it took a lot of manpower,” she said, holding my hand tighter. If she needed manpower, I was up for the job! Being so close to her was making my heart race. I was intoxicated by her sweet vanilla scent. As we walked across the room to the kitchen, I caught a glimpse of her gorgeous side boob. My dick rose another inch at the mere sight of her bare skin.
Was Hannah trying to seduce me?
Her beauty was blinding me. I wasn’t sure if she was having such a mesmerizing effect on me because I hadn’t been laid in a few months, but I had a feeling that I would be responding the same way if I’d just pulled my pants up from getting laid. She was something! Still, it remained a fact that I was in the grip of a sexual drought, and standing in this divine presence made it clear to me that I had to go for it.
As Hannah reached for the coffee can on the top shelf, exposing even more flawless skin, I made my move. I causally slid my hand over the firm tits bulging out of her robe. How did such a slender girl have such a big rack? The obvious explanation was that her tits were man-made, but as I fondled them, they sure felt like natural endowments. I could have played with them all day. As my fingertips titillated her nipples, they instantly stiffened. And when I heard her whimper in delight, I got more daring. I leaned my face in closer until my teeth captured one of her hips. My tongue snaked and rolled alongside it. The suckling turned to light nipping, and then—kaboom!
The abrupt crash of the coffee can falling on the tile floor snapped Hannah out of her ecstatic state. I was thrown off my course too.
“Oh shit!” she cried out. Ground coffee had spewed all over the floor. To make matters worse, even without my boots I was still dripping snow melt, and that water was mixing with the finely ground coffee to make—well, one hell of a mess!
“I’ll clean up,” I said, grabbing a bunch of paper towels, and in a frenzy I tried to gather the coffee muck. My effort only seemed to be making a bigger mess. The grinds were getting stuck in the fresh grouting of the brand-new tile.
“Don’t bother,” she sighed with her hand on her hip.
Had I pissed her off? Had I blown my chance for some steaming-hot ass? When I was so close to getting in? “Do you have a mop or something?” I said. I wanted desperately to do something to improve the situation.
“I said not to bother,” she said. There was an edge to her voice.
“This sucks,” I said. “I feel really bad.” I hoped my dick still had a shot.
“Oh, you feel bad, do you?” she said. “How bad?”
I couldn’t respond because I was too focused on her undoing the belt to her silk robe. My eyes were glued to her. It felt like an eternity until the silk robe finally slipped off her body. My boner expanded another inch or two. Her tits looked even better exposed. They were born and bred to be tit-fucked. As she stood naked in front of me, my eyes traced down to her tiny waist, and then down to her mound, where a dusting of dark brown gave way to her tender trap. Her pink glistened. That was one slamming body!
“What are you waiting for?” she whispered, sending chills all through me. I wasn’t used to such a forward woman. Usually I had to date a chick for a few weeks before my willy saw any action. Even after enduring cheesy chick flicks, absorbing the costs of expensive meals and meeting the chick’s folks, I had no guarantee of sex—it could be a total waste of time and effort.
Now here was this bombshell, practically begging for it! Like a fireman responding to a fire alarm, I went into urgent mode. And I pondered the question, should I quench this fire or let it burst into flames?
I attacked her with hot-tongued kisses, and while our tongues wrestled, I carried her to the kitchen table. The heat was intensifying, and my hose was ready to burst. But as I gazed at her gorgeous pussy, I grew hungry. I needed to taste. Even though my cock was urging me to ram it in her, my mouth craved a sample of her pussy. Somehow I managed to free my mouth from its passionate lock with hers, and my tongue slithered down her neck to her stiff nips and on down to her smooth, flat stomach.
Finally I reached her delectable pussy. And to my surprise and delight, I watched her legs spread open! I dived right in, sucking and licking her delectable juices. Her taste was sweet and utterly delicious. She should bottle the stuff!
“Oh, fuck yeah!” she murmured, pushing my face even deeper into her mound. Eat my pussy!” I flicked her clit with my tongue, flicking her switch into overdrive. The moans and screams coming from her made the kitchen table shake. When she came to, her face seemed to say yes, that’s how you eat pussy.
I held her in my arms. Our heartbeats thudded away heavily. I’m not sure how long we stayed that way, with her beautiful body draped naked around me. But eventually I heard one of the best things ever: “You’re next.”
I sat still and silent while Hannah unzipped my jeans. She slipped off my pants and was confronted with a layer of thermal long johns. “Wow, this is a lot of work,” she said.
“A guy needs to stay warm in a blizzard,” I explained. As she went to work on the long johns, I thought, I’m going to have to make this worth her while.
I guess I shivered, probably from the excitement, because the next thing she said was, “I’ll keep you warm.” Then she snagged my raging monster in her mouth, and boy, did she turn up the heat! It felt like I was trapped inside an inferno as her mouth pumped my cock. I never felt or witnessed such grace or expertise of BJ technique. The way she slid my meat in and out of her mouth, she looked like a fire-eater engulfing the flame in the back of her throat without gagging. Most chicks who’ve gone down on me could barely get half my pole in her mouth!
I relished every lick and suck, every sensation this goddess was inducing in my cock. I wanted the blowjob to last forever, but when I caught a glimpse of her luscious tits and fine ass bouncing in a sexy rhythm while she sucked me, I lost control. Letting out a primal roar, I exploded in her mouth. She swallowed almost all of my seed, but since there was so much of it, some dripped out of the corner of her mouth. Her tongue caught the excess.
Time seemed to stand still with Hannah by my side, until my cell phone rang us both back to reality. I was all set to toss the phone in the garbage when I realized it was probably one of my neglected clients promising to rip me a new asshole if I didn’t tend to his property now. I had a feeling the caller wouldn’t give a shit if I explained that I’d just gotten lucky.
I fumbled for my phone, needing to answer it before voicemail kicked in. “Hey, Joey,” the caller said, “what’s taking you so damn long? Do I have to call another plow company or what?”
It was the raspy smoker’s voice of Mr. Harris, the manager of this exclusive condo complex, which accounted for a good part of my winter income. I sure as hell didn’t want to piss him off any more than he already was. So instead of suggesting he go fuck himself, I apologized abjectly for the delay, said something about equipment problems and promised to get right on it.
As I snapped my cell phone shut, Hannah purred, “Before, you go, get right on me.” Even with my livelihood at stake, it was an offer I couldn’t refuse. I speed-dialed some reliable guys I work with sometimes and told them I needed them to do me a solid. As soon as I had the situation under control, I turned my attention back to Hannah.
Without saying another word, I whisked her up, feeling her soft breath tickling my neck. She was so light, I hardly felt her weight in my arms. I carried her through the hallway and turned left where I assumed the bedroom was. I kicked the door open, and instead of being in the bedroom found myself in a gleaming high-tech bathroom with glistening new fixtures.
There was a stand-up shower with at least six jets and a tiled shower bench inside spacious enough to fit about ten people. I set Hannah down while I got the shower going, figuring I could do that without asking for assistance, but I soon discovered it was more complicated than I thought. The first button I pressed turned on a romantic red light above the shower, while the second button awoke the built-in music system, setting Usher’s voice resonating. Boy, this girl had it going on. How many guys did she entertain in the shower?
I wondered if maybe the next button I pressed would spit out a condom. Instead it set the jets on full-blast! Warm water splashed and sprayed my face. Behind me, Hannah laughed.
“Excuse me,” I said, “I’m not used to all this fancy shit.”
“Well, get used to it,” she whispered in my ear as she pushed me forward into the spa-like shower. As she adjusted the setting to massage mode, I stood at full-boner attention, taking in her beauty. She grabbed a bottle of foamy body soap and lathered it all over herself. I moved behind her and rubbed the soap suds over her delectable tits while my boner poked at her. As the water and suds cascaded over our steaming bodies, we wet-humped and gyrated.
With my dick at its fullest size, I traced it along her outer pussy lips. She moaned, encouraging me to go further. Since I was so much taller, there was no way I was going to be able to fuck her standing up. “Why don’t you lean up against the shower bench?” I suggested.
Hannah hopped on the bench, then got on all fours. Standing behind her, I guided my stiff member to her creamy hole. The moment I entered her, I felt like I was going to burst. It didn’t help that she was screaming my name! I grabbed her tits from behind while I drove my cock in deeper. Knowing my luck, I figured I was going to slip on the suds, tumble on my head, fall unconscious and never remember fucking this beauty. But it appeared that my luck was changing.
“Fuck me harder!” she demanded. Give it to me, Joey!” My cock was happy to oblige. I kept on drilling her pussy until she erupted in an earth-shattering explosion. Her screams of pleasure mixed with Usher’s voice sighing, “Let me love you down.” I pumped my dick in her oozing hole a few more times before I felt a wave of euphoria coming over me. At that point I quickly pulled out and spewed my load all over her back. The powerful jets washed away the evidence.
Hannah asked me to stay the night. The next morning the snowfall was still rising, and so was my cock. Hannah took care of my morning wood and sent me off to finish up my plowing jobs. I promised her I would be back soon. I assured her that I was up to the job of plowing her anytime.•
I’d just had amazing makeup sex with my husband Eddie—again. The fight started in the bedroom, but we ended up in the basement, fucking on the piles of laundry I’d sorted for the wash.
We were rolling around on the floor, ripping at each other’s clothes like we’d lost our minds. First Eddie was on top, one hand holding my wrists together over my head, the other wrapped around my thigh. Then I was on top, riding his deliciously thick cock and grinding my hips against his. It was a good thing the clothes were already dirty, because we made quite a mess. It was so worth it, though. Eddie is an awesome lover.
I love him to death, but he fucking drives me crazy sometimes. Lately we always seem to fight about the same thing. It doesn’t matter what we talk about, every little disagreement eventually leads back to the same issue—kids. Whenever I raise the subject, Eddie will say something really asinine that totally pisses me off. “And that,” as the saying goes, “is how the fight started.” We argue, neither one of us wanting to back down, and then the adrenalin and frustration kick in. Before you know it, we’re going at it like two bunnies in heat.
Here’s the thing. We’ve been married for five years, we both have good jobs, and we inherited a house from my aunt that’s perfect for a family. I’m 29 and Eddie’s 33, and I’m ready to start our family, but he wants us to travel and do some fun stuff for a couple more years before we start making rugrats. I talked to a couple of my friends about our standoff and the consensus was that Eddie might be afraid that the awesome sex we have will be forfeited.
I happened to agree with them about why Eddie was stalling. I didn’t have the same fear, though. Still, how was I going to convince my rock-head husband?
After our latest blowup, and after Eddie and I finished screwing each other’s brains out afterward, he suggested we give ourselves a break and take a short trip. I agreed that perhaps a change of scenery might help. I left all the details up to him, and a week later we were boarding a flight to a small island in the Caribbean.
As we closed in on our destination, a quick glance out the airplane window revealed deep blue waters, white sand and lots of palm trees. I was so excited, I nudged Eddie so he wouldn’t miss the beautiful view, but he was knocked out. Had I thought about it, I would have realized then that something wasn’t right. He never sleeps on planes. It’s one of his quirks.
With visions of Eddie and me sipping mai tais and sexing each other up in some secluded cove on the beach, I figured I wouldn’t have too much trouble getting him to see things my way. That, and the fact that I’d been flushing my birth-control pills off and on for the last week and had accidentally left them at home, practically guaranteed that I’d get knocked up on this trip. I figured it was just a matter of time.
The hotel was small and intimate, with all the amenities, and an amazing amount of gorgeous-looking men. It was the perfect vacation spot, very romantic, so naturally the first thing I wanted was for Eddie and me to dirty up the nice clean sheets. But he said he wasn’t feeling well. That’s when I looked closely at him and realized that he did look a little rough. When I touched his forehead, it was hot. He looked flushed, and it wasn’t from the tropical heat.
As he flopped down on the bed he admitted he felt like shit, but he said he didn’t want me to spend my time cooped up in the room with him, and neither did I. If he wasn’t well enough to deliver the goods, I was going to find someone who could. So when Eddie insisted I head to the beach while he slept, that’s just what I did. I changed into my skimpiest bikini, grabbed my shades, sunscreen and beach towel, and left him to recuperate.
I walked along the shoreline, checking out the crowd along the way. When I reached a quiet section, I spread out my towel and lay down on top of it. I was soaking up the rays and mulling things over when a huge shadow of a man suddenly blocked out the sun. I couldn’t see his face, but his body was hot. He wasn’t muscle-bound, but he did look as if he spent a fair amount of time at the gym.
“You’re going to need some more sun block if you don’t want to burn,” the man said.
“Are you offering?” I asked, giving him my best smile.
“Sure,” he said, “whatever you need, I’m your man.” He introduced himself as Chaz and said he worked at the hotel in the hospitality group. I couldn’t wait to see how far he would go to make sure I was satisfied.
I glanced around quickly, checking to see how much privacy we had. Earlier I’d noticed that some of the women were topless, so I unfastened my halter and took it off. Chaz smiled in appreciation of my firm breasts, then picked up the bottle of lotion and poured some in his hand. I smiled back before turning on my stomach.
Chaz straddled my legs and began rubbing the lotion into my skin. His big hands felt wonderful as he worked his way slowly from my neck down my back. It felt really good, even better than when Eddie put lotion on me! Maybe it was because Chaz was a stranger and I had made up my mind that I was going to seduce him and screw him.
I moaned when his hands glided along my back and worked their way around to my breasts. “Oh, Chaz,” I purred, “that feels amazing. I’ve been so tense lately.” I found myself squirming beneath his weight, wishing he’d rub himself against my butt. It didn’t take long for me to get my wish. I felt his growing erection while his fingers continued to work their magic.
“You’ll have to do my front now,” I said, twisting my body until I was on my back. One look at the big bulge in Chaz’s swimsuit and any lingering doubts I had about cheating on Eddie went out the window. He gave me a heated look when I reached out to rub his cock through the wet material.
“I’ll get right on it,” he said. Then he pulled down my bikini bottom, which was embarrassingly wet, and licked me slowly and thoroughly.
“Mmm, you smell like coconut and sex,” he murmured. “Good enough to eat.” Then he lapped at me some more before tunneling his tongue into my hole. I grabbed his head and pushed my horny cunt against him, humping his face.
Chaz really seemed to know what he was doing. I couldn’t ever remember being so turned before. Fucking Eddie after one of our screaming matches was hot, but this was thrillingly illicit, and maybe even more thrilling because we were on the beach where anyone could walk by and see us. The risk factor was definitely a catalyst, along with the fact that I was about to fuck a total stranger and that I might end up getting pregnant.
Fueled by these thoughts and what Chaz was doing to me, I grew even bolder. I grabbed him by his sun-bleached hair and told him to fuck me. Giving me one last lick, he pulled off his swimsuit and his cock popped up to greet me. The head was wet with precome and looked quite promising. He hesitated for a moment, and I panicked, thinking he might be having second thoughts, but I wasn’t about to let that happen. I arched my back and let my hand fall between my legs. I started to play with my pussy, getting my fingers nice and wet. Then I rubbed the pussy-soaked digits across his lips. He sucked on them, twining his tongue between them.
Then Chaz knelt between my legs, placed the fat head of his dick at my entrance and plunged inside. I was so wet that he slid right in. I groaned and raised my hips to meet his. There’s nothing I like better than a good fucking, and I had high hopes that he was up to the job.
He didn’t mess around. He started fucking me hard and deep, our skin slapping against each other’s. I was so wet and juicy that his cock made squishing sounds each time he pushed in. I didn’t think he made a habit of screwing the hotel guests, because he seemed to be in a hurry, which was fine with me. I was so close that when he said he was coming, I was right there with him, feeling those final strokes of his as his semen jetted into me.
When his cock slipped out of me, I wondered if I would be able to entice him into meeting me later that evening. “Thanks, Chaz,” I said. “If you’re not busy later, maybe we can get together.”
“Anything you need,” he said, as he stepped into his swimsuit. “Just call 5300. I’m free after 11. What’s you’re name, by the way?”
“Naomi,” I said. “And thanks, Chaz. This is my first day on vacation, and so far I’m having a bang-up time!”
I didn’t bother to put my bikini back on. I just shook out my towel, wrapped it around me and stowed my stuff in my tote bag. I felt really good, and as some of Chaz’s baby juice trickled down my leg, I thought about taking advantage of the convenient shower room near the massage area. The sun had begun to set, and I wondered briefly if Eddie was still sleeping, or if he’d awakened and wondered where I was. I decided to rinse off the sand and the sex smell before I went back to our room.
On the way to the shower room, I almost bumped into a well-built man dressed in white. He had to be the masseur. He was average in height, but his chest and shoulders were broad. And his arms? There had to be some sort of ordinance about walking around with those guns.
He apologized profusely in heavily accented English, then said, “Massage, madam?” I was about to say no and continue on to the showers, but then I thought, why not?
His name was Miguel, and after I let him know that I would very much like a massage after my shower, he said he would wait for me to show me where to go. After a quick rinse, I wrapped one of the fresh towels provided for guests around myself and went outside to find Miguel. He was sitting with a couple of other staff members, playing some kind of card game. When he saw me, he tossed in his hand and said for me to follow him.
Miguel led me several yards away to an area ringed with lush potted plants and shrubs. As I hopped up on the massage table, I noticed how private the area was. There were a few tiki torches stuck in the ground, and since the sun had finally set, he lit two. Then I sized up Miguel and thought again, why not?
I stretched out on my stomach and loosened the towel, and Miguel went to work. He drizzled some oil on my back and massaged my shoulders and back. He worked the muscles in my arms till I was nice and loose. Then he worked on my feet, flexing and massaging first one, then the other, before moving on to my legs.
I felt so relaxed that I almost forgot I wanted something besides the massage. But as Miguel’s firm hands and knowing fingers inched closer to the juncture between my legs, I couldn’t help but let out a moan. All I could think about was how much I wanted him to touch me. No one would believe it if I told them I’d just been fucked less than an hour before. As he massaged and kneaded my muscles, I quivered and moaned, especially when his fingers dipped teasingly between my legs as if he was testing the waters.
He had to notice the wetness leaking from my pussy, which was probably a mixture of my juices and Chaz’s jizz. Just when I was about to tell him it was okay to put his hands between my legs, his fingers slid between my folds! He moved them back and forth while I gripped the table for leverage and ground my pussy against his fingers. Then I begged him to put them in me.
“I have something better, Madam,” Miguel said. He grabbed my hips and pulled the lower half of my body toward him, so I was on my feet but the upper part of me was still lying on the table. More love fluids oozed down my legs. As I grew wetter, I wondered what Miguel’s cock would feel like once he put it in me.
I looked back and saw him untying the drawstring to his white pants. When he dropped them, I almost changed my mind. For an average-size guy, he had an above-average schlong. It wasn’t just long but thick as well. He stroked it a few times, then moved close behind me and spoke softly to me in Spanish, as if to reassure me that all was well and his monster dick wouldn’t split me in half.
If I hadn’t been so horny and crazed with lust, I probably would have just tipped him and hightailed it back to my room. But when he pushed that mushroom head past my entrance and I felt how good and tight it was, I relaxed and let him work his cock in, bit by bit.
Once Miguel was fully seated inside me, I could hardly wait for him to fuck me. He started pumping all of that meat in and out of my tight hole, twisting a little on the way in so he was truly screwing me, hitting every part of me with each thrust. Then he reached around and pressed on my clit, and I saw stars! I was coming, and he was still fucking me with steady, controlled, deep strokes. It seemed as if he could keep it up forever.
Each time Miguel stroked into me, I groaned with pleasure. Apparently I was making a little too much noise, because the next thing I knew he shoved his fingers in my mouth. I sucked on them and moaned as he kept up the pace. He fucked me through another orgasm, then slammed into me and came, adding more baby juice to the mix. I was so filled with come that if I didn’t get knocked up after this trip, there was absolutely no hope.
The only thing holding me up was the table, and I was content to stay where I was for the moment—until I heard voices, Miguel’s and someone else’s. Uh-oh, it was Chaz!
“Damn, Naomi,” he said, “I thought we were going to hook up later. At this rate I probably won’t see you tonight.”
I was too damn tired to disagree with him, and I was about to push myself upright when he placed a firm hand on my back. I heard more rustling, then felt warm oil running down my butt crack. I looked back, and Chaz was lubing up his dick. I was so dazed with pleasure that I didn’t figure out what he had in mind until I felt him push a finger in my virgin asshole.
Uh-oh, I thought, and I was ready to call it a night, but when he started pumping that finger in and out, it felt way too good. When he added another finger it felt even better. Then he had three fingers in me, pumping and twisting them to prepare me for his cock.
“Don’t worry, Naomi,” he reassured me, “I’ll go slow.”
He removed his fingers and pressed the head of his dick at my back door. I felt the pressure increase as he gradually popped the crown past my ring. I cried out from the combination of pressure and pleasure as he used a gentle rocking motion to ease his way inside. When he was in as far as he could go, he started to fuck my ass. I had never felt anything like it before, but I understood the appeal.
As the pleasure grew, I started getting noisy again. Miguel, who’d been standing off to the side, came toward me. He was hard as a rock again, and his solution to the noise problem was to shove his big cock in my mouth. I couldn’t take all of it, but I did a pretty admirable job considering I was getting reamed in the ass for the first time in my life.
Chaz had loosened me up enough that his strokes were becoming deeper and faster. He grunted with the effort, and pushed into me so hard that the table began to rattle. Each time he drove his cock in my ass, Miguel drove his cock farther in my mouth. I was getting stuffed from both ends, and I was loving every minute of it.
Chaz was the first to come, punctuating his deep thrusts with spurts of cream. His final strokes pushed me over the edge, and I screamed around Miguel’s dick. Miguel was the last to come. He had pulled his cock from my mouth during my orgasm and shot massive amounts of cream all over me. After that I was a total mess. Miguel left without waiting for a tip, and I ended up sharing a shower with Chaz before finally heading back to the room to check on Eddie.
When I crept in the room he was sound asleep. I didn’t bother to wake him until the morning. Unfortunately, he wasn’t feeling much better. The hotel doctor advised antibiotics and more bed rest. I wanted to stay with him, but he wouldn’t hear of it. So for the next two days I hit the beach and Chaz and Miguel got to hit me.
It wasn’t until the night before we were set to return home that Eddie felt like himself. We went to dinner, took a moonlight swim on the beach and fucked till dawn.
A month later, when I’d missed my period, I told Eddie that I’d fucked up with the pills a couple of times and thought I might be preggers. Another fight ensued, with him insisting that I couldn’t possibly be pregnant while I insisted I was. I had peed on the stick, twice, and both results were positive.
When Eddie kept insisting it couldn’t happen, I asked why. Looking rather sheepish, he told me how he’d baby-sat his sister’s kids when he was in college and caught the mumps from them, and in his case the result was infertility. He knew how much I wanted kids, and he did too, but he hadn’t known how to tell me about his problem. He thought I would leave him if I couldn’t have kids, assuming I wouldn’t be willing to adopt. Now he felt guilty about not telling me this before we got married.
That left me feeling guilty about having to explain how I could have gotten pregnant, but I sucked it up and came clean. I told him how I’d deliberately tossed some of my pills, then left the pack at home when we took our little trip. I told him how I thought my plans to get knocked up had been foiled when he got sick, and finally I told him about Chaz and Miguel.
And guess what! Eddie got kind of turned on, and asked me to go into details! He said he wanted me tell him everything!
I started to, but halfway through the dirty details he threw me down on the bed and we fucked like crazy. Not only did Eddie not mind that I was pregnant, he was really happy. He said he wanted us to have more kids, but next time he wants to join in the fun—and he wants to pick out the baby daddy!
Is there anything hotter than fucking another guy’s wife? To date I’ve found nothing better. There’s something about hanging out with a guy who’s a dick, slipping it to his wife, and know ing he has no idea that she’s screwing around on him. It’s especially satisfying when you know that he’s getting your sloppy seconds.
Ever since I was in college and I screwed my roommate’s girlfriend, I’ve had a hard-on for pussy that essentially belonged to someone else. There was something dangerous and exciting about fucking her on his bed, sometimes finishing just minutes before he returned. I loved hearing her call out my name as she came. Back then, sometimes I had to settle for sloppy seconds, but not anymore.
It’s been about ten years, but during that time I’ve had the good fortune of hooking up with dozens of married women. I just love the thrill of getting caught, although so far I never have. Sometimes it’s just a quickie”"hot and nasty and over in about 20 minutes. Or sometimes I have been known to hook up with the same woman for months.
My most recent conquest, Zoe, happens to be the wife of one of my business associates. The guy happens to be a dick, a real tool, so I don’t feel the least bit bad about fucking his wife. Zoe is gorgeous”"about five-ten, with flowing blonde hair though darker roots , and the longest legs, and a slen der figure with curves in all the right places. The first time I saw her, her tits looked so amazing in the tight dress she had on, I couldn’t wait to find out if they were the real thing. She had a huge ring on her finger, but that didn’t stop me. As soon as I saw her, I knew I was going to hit that.
This was at a business function where a lot of the executives brought their wives or women they wanted to show off. Buddy walked in with Zoe on his arm, parked her with a group of peo ple she didn’t seem to know, then proceeded to work the room, angling for contracts and deals.
I took one look and decided to do a little angling my self. I grabbed two glasses of champagne from a waiter, went straight over to Zoe, and rescued her from what had to be the dullest of conversations. I introduced myself and said that Buddy had asked me to look out for her. She looked gorgeous and grateful when I said there was some one I wanted her to meet. I led her out of the main ballroom onto the balcony, where I said I hoped I hadn’t taken her away from an important conversation.
She laughed and thanked me for the champagne and the rescue, then said, “Listen, Joel, is it? My husband couldn’t care less about me. He just wants me to show off at business functions. Other than that, he basically ignores me. So what’s your real story?”
“I can’t resist a fine-looking woman in distress,” I answered, leading her into a dark corner.
“Well, as long as you’re just being polite,” she said, smiling a winsomely smile. “But say, did you really want me to meet someone?”
I moved closer, pinning her against the wall of the building. I was close enough to feel her firm breasts against my chest. They felt real enough. “Actually, I’d like to get to know you personally,” I said. “If that’s okay with you.”
I only had one free hand, but sometimes that’s all you need. I cupped one luscious breast and pushed my growing hard-on against her belly. Her body vibrated against mine as she let out a shudder. Then her hand was on my dick, stroking me through my pants. That was enough of an answer for me. I looked over my shoulder quickly to see if anyone was watching us. As far as I could see, we were in the clear. I told her to wait five minutes and follow me out to the parking lot.
We drained our glasses, and I left them on a tray on my way out. I waited in the cool night air until Zoe appeared in the doorway. I grabbed her hand and led her to my car. I’m sure I could have found an empty room inside, but I had a feeling we’d be hooking up again and I wanted our first time to be in a car, so she wouldn’t forget.
I opened the back door for her and she climbed in. I followed, closing the door behind me, then proceeded to strip her naked, all the while telling her how beautiful she is, how her husband doesn’t know what he has and how I couldn’t wait to be inside her.
It wasn’t an easy matter getting Zoe undressed, because she couldn’t keep her hands off me. Apparently old Buddy wasn’t taking care of business at home, and Zoe wanted to get fucked in the worst way. Fortunately, I had already removed my jacket, but my shirt wasn’t so lucky. She ripped it open, and the buttons went flying. Then she worked on my belt and pants till she had freed my hard-on.
“Ohmygod!” she cried as she pushed me back on the seat. “Your cock is huge! I don’t think I can get all of it in my mouth, but I’m certainly going to love trying.”
That makes two of us, I thought as she started lapping up the precome oozing out of the head of my eight-incher. She licked my dick from top to bottom, coating it with lots of saliva, while she played with my balls. Then, true to her word, she opened her mouth and slowly lowered her head, inch by inch, until her nose hit the base. I didn’t know how she did it, but she had my snake all the way down her throat, and it felt real fucking good.
Then she slowly raised back up until the head popped out of her mouth, leaving a long string of saliva trailing from her mouth. She looked up at me and smiled like she’d just hit the lottery, then went right back down on me. Then she released me again partway and started pumping and sucking my dick at the same time, using her spit to slide her hand up and down.
I reached down to pull on Zoe’s nipples, and she moaned around my dick, which I felt right down to my toes. She was quite the talented cocksucker. Whether she knew it didn’t matter. I grabbed her head and thrust in her mouth till I felt my balls draw up tight to my body and I began pumping jizz in her mouth.
I was still filling Zoe up with cream when she pulled back and caught a shot on her cheek. While I lay back catching my breath, she wiped up the mess on her face with her fingers, then licked them clean. Then she leaned over my dick and proceeded to lick that clean too.
“My, you are a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” I said as she lapped happily away.
She took her time cleaning me up like a cat cleans a kitten. “I had no idea how much I missed sucking a big, juicy cock,” she said. “Buddy’s not nearly as well-hung as you are, and he’s rarely in the mood”"always working, working, working. If it weren’t for my rabbit, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“I’ll be your rabbit, darlin’,” I said, stroking my rapidly rehardening dick. Then I pushed her back and spread her legs wide. She was nice and wet, and I couldn’t wait to get into her cream. I opened her petals and dragged my tongue slowly through her folds, gathering up as much of her goo as I could. She tasted sweet and tangy, and her musky scent filled my senses. I touched my tongue to her clit, and the moment I did, she cried out, her hips rising up off the seat.
“Oh God! Oh, lick it, baby, please!” she begged. The poor girl was starving for it, and I was going to quench her thirst”"again and again, until she was well-sated. It was going to be really easy to make her come.
I worked two fingers in Zoe, pumping them in and out a couple of times. Then I added a third and curled them up to meet her sweet spot while I rubbed my thumb against her clit. She went off like rocket, shaking and cry ing and rocking against my fingers. I thought she would never stop coming. I barely gave her a chance to recoup when I started up again, sawing my fingers in and out of her cunt and stabbing and vibrating my tongue against her clit. To this day I couldn’t say whether she had one long orgasm or a series of rapid smaller ones. Either way, she just kept coming and humping my face and fingers and squeezing my head between her slender thighs. All the while I was rubbing my dick against the seat, in desperate need of some kind of friction.
When she finally calmed down, I moved over her and asked, “Have you had enough, Zoe, or do you want me to fuck you too?”
“Please, fuck me now!” she begged. “Fuck me now!”
“So how long does Buddy usually stay at these affairs?” I asked. I had my dick in my hand and was rubbing it back and forth against her slit, getting it nice and gooey in her juices.
“He’ll stay as long as he can find someone who’ll listen to him,” she said, twisting and rotating her hips in horny abandon. “All night, probably.”
“Really,” I said. “Maybe we should go back. He might miss you.” I held my dick and slapped it against her twat, making her moan and writhe.
She gripped my shoulders and tugged at me impatiently. “He won’t. He just needs me to make an entrance. Please, I want your big cock in my cunt, now!” she screamed.
I could hardly wait myself. Oh, I was putting up a good front, but my dick wanted cunt”"Zoe’s cunt”"and it was aching to get inside her.
I locked eyes with her and slowly pushed just the head in, then popped it out again. I saw the frustration on her face and felt it in her straining muscles. She was wound so tight that I figured she was going to come as soon as I pushed all the way in, which was going to make it really tough for me to maintain my control. I took a deep breath, then slammed my dick in to the hilt and held it there.
Zoe’s eyes practically rolled up in her skull as she came, screaming at the top of her lungs. I knew she was wet enough and turned on enough to take my big dick, but it still amazed me the way she came like that”"just from me entering her! Part of me wondered whether anyone had heard her orgasmic cry, but we were both at the point of no return.
I held my breath and waited until Zoe quieted, then started off with some light pumping”"not all the way in and not all the way out, just gentle, easy fucking, working my way up then to heavy thrusting. When she started pumping her hips in time with my thrusts, I deepened them and rocked a little from side to side as I made the strokes more forceful. Pretty soon I was slamming my dick in her hard enough that she was making little grunting sounds. The harder I stroked in her, the louder and deeper her grunts became.
She had wrapped her legs around my waist, but that wasn’t enough. I wanted to go deeper in her channel. I wanted her to feel me up in her throat. I pulled back far enough to push her legs up against her chest, then started fucking her again, and she started keening and rocking beneath me.
I was almost there. All it took was a few more thrusts, and Zoe came. And surprise, surprise, she was a squirter! Moistened with her release, I came with a roar, feeling every pulse of jizz as it left my dick and filled her hole.
When it was over, my now-limp dick slid out of her along with our combined juices. I grabbed some napkins from the front seat and we cleaned up as best we could, but we were still pretty messy. There was no way Zoe could go back inside looking like she did, so naturally I drove her home.
I parked around the corner and we walked the short distance to her home, then went inside. As soon as the door closed, we were all over each other”"it was as if we hadn’t just fucked our brains out in the car!
It was dark inside, and as I pushed Zoe up against the door I asked between kisses, “Sofa?” With both of us breathing like freight trains, she led me to the sofa. I pulled up her dress and bent her over the back. My dick was hard as stone, and she was creaming herself in anticipation of another reaming. I dropped my pants, grabbed my dick and pushed in her from behind. God, she had the tightest pussy! Part of it might have been her natural anatomy and my big dick, but it also might have had something to do with Buddy’s neglect. Whatever the reason, it made for some damn good pussy.
Zoe arched her back and took every thing I gave her. I fucked her hard and fast, my dick pistoning powerfully in and out of her cunt, my balls slapping against her. Each thrust pushed her up onto her toes and threatened to send her over the back of the sofa, but I had one arm wrapped around her waist and one hand up under her dress, and since she hadn’t bothered to put her bra back on, I squeezed and pulled on her nipple. It didn’t take long for her to cry out her pleasure.
“Oh God, oh God, I’m coming!” she screamed. And come she did, her body quivering uncontrollably.
Her pleasure was mine, and seconds later I slammed deep in her while I shot my load. She was so full of cream that it oozed out and ran down her leg as I pulled out, panting and leaning over her back. We stayed like that for a few moments longer. Then we both climbed over the back and sprawled on her couch.
“Do we have time for a quick shower?” I asked. “You know better than I when Buddy will be home.”
“I think we have time for a shower,” she said, “and maybe for a little fooling around too.”
I couldn’t quite make out her face in the dark, but I had a feeling she was smiling, like the cat that made a meal out of the canary. “You lead the way, darlin’,” I said, although I could barely move and didn’t know how much fooling around I was still capable of.
I grabbed my clothes and followed Zoe upstairs. When she turned on the light, I saw the full size of the bathroom. It was big. There was a Jacuzzi and a separate shower stall with a bench. My mind reeled with the possibilities for hot, wet sex.
Zoe turned on the shower, and when she bent over to get fresh towels from a cabinet, I got a perfect view of her cunt, which was still glistening with the aftermath of our fucking. Just the sight started my dick twitching again.
We stepped into the steaming spray and slid the shower door closed. I grabbed a bottle of shower gel from the caddy and squeezed a generous amount of it all over Zoe’s shoulders, breasts and mound, then turned her around and squeezed more down her back. Now, slick with foamy suds, I turned her back toward me and started kissing her mouth and neck. My dick, which I’d thought had had it for the night, rose up again like Lazarus from the dead!
I backed Zoe against the wall and pulled her arms up over her head, and she kissed me as if her life depended on it, our tongues snaking around each other’s. Her nipples had been poking me in the chest, and now I bent down to suck them, moving back and forth from one to the other, until I felt her breath shortening. I kissed my way down the front of her beautiful body, licking and sucking until I was kneeling in front of her.
She placed her hands on my shoulders to steady herself when I raised one leg and hooked it over my shoulder. Then I resumed licking along the inside of her thighs, sometimes gently biting the taut flesh. At last I moved to her pussy, parting her lips with my nose and tongue. Of course she was already swollen from our earlier play. I licked and nipped and shoved my tongue as far up her hole as I could, making her shudder and tremble with excitement.
In less than a minute she was starting to come. I pulled away and spun her around so she was supporting herself with her hands against the wall. Her long hair cascaded down her back and the muscles of her ass flexed and spread as she raised herself up, waiting for my mouth to return to her open pussy lips.
I dived back in, licking the length of her slit and then up between her ass cheeks, swirling around her other hole before driving back down to her clit. I grabbed her hips and pulled her hard against my face, fighting to keep my tongue on her clit. I was soon rewarded with the trembling waves of her orgasm and a mouthful of her honey. She alternately pressed against me and struggled to wriggle away as the contractions rolled through her.
I wasn’t very surprised when the good little wife moaned, “Oh yes, fuck, yes. Eat me, baby, eat me. Lick my cunt and ass. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
My dick was hard and heavy, ready to do the deed. I stood and thrust in her in one smooth movement. She shouted, “Oh yeah, Joel, fuck me. Fuck me with that big cock of yours!”
Zoe bent over to take me in as deep as she could, but I had other plans. I pulled out of her cunt, squirted some shower gel on her ass and some on my dick, and pushed my way in her ass. When she didn’t balk, I realized she must have done this before, possibly in “life before Buddy.”
When I was balls-deep in her tight asshole, she moaned long and low and groaned, “God, it’s been so long! Fuck my ass! Fuck it good, Joel!”
And that’s just what I did, reaming her good and hard while she braced herself against the wall. But the angle wasn’t quite right, so I pulled out and had her get on her knees and hold on to the bench. I got behind her on one knee and eased my way back in her hot ass. Perfect! With one hand on the bench and one on her waist, I gave her a quick slap, then started sawing in and out of her.
I hadn’t fucked a woman’s ass in quite a while, so I knew I wouldn’t last too long. Zoe was moaning for me to fuck her harder, wailing that she was close to coming. I reached under her, found her clit and gave it a couple of tugs, sending her over the edge into climax heaven. When her orgasm hit, her muscles tensed up and she reached back to grab my ass. I shot my last load for the night in her beautiful ass, then collapsed on the floor of the shower.
Zoe fell back, and I caught her before she bounced her ass on the floor. We were both breathless, and could do nothing but lay there under the spray of the shower.
I felt a strange vibration and wondered what the hell was happening. Zoe jumped up and grabbed me, trying to pull me to my feet. “That’s the garage door,” she said, panicking. “It’s Buddy! You’ve got to get out of here.” It was just as well, since I knew I couldn’t have gotten it up again if my life depended on it.
We left the water running in the shower, and I tried to grab a towel but Zoe said I didn’t have time, I needed to just get dressed and she would show me to a window on the other side of the house where I could climb out and wouldn’t run into Buddy. Which was fine by me. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a husband scene.
I pulled on my clothes, and we ran down the stairs in the dark, Zoe leading the way. She led me to the dining room and turned on the light. Sure enough, there was a window for me to make my exit, unseen by Buddy. I gave her one last kiss and gave her my business card, telling her to call me if she wanted to have some more fun.
I knew I would hear from her again, and I was right. It’s been about five months now and I’m still hitting it. Oh yeah, and her dumb-as-shit husband still hasn’t caught on.”
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