Authors: Lexi Duval
That's certainly a first.
And with all that going on, and with hands and fingers
everywhere, he leans in, wraps his lips around my nipples, and begins
sliding his tongue across the surface of my breasts until there's a
light sheen of saliva covering half my chest.
It's all impossibly delirious, and nothing like what I
had expected. Namely a bit of kissing, some light foreplay, and then
awkward sex, probably with most of the lights turned off.
Nope.
We're standing, naked, in the middle of the room, lights
blazing and half of our erogenous zones all being worked at
simultaneously. And if I wasn't thinking so much, I'd probably have
lost myself to it all and orgasmed already.
After about 5 or 10 minutes his hand is sliding out of
me and my hand is being removed from his dick.
And now he's moving me to the bed as if I'm just a human
sex doll, hands caressing my ass as we go, fingers always working
their way over my skin.
“
You're so soft everywhere,” he says, peering behind
my back, lightly gripping my ass. “And you ass....wow.”
“
Thanks,” is all I manage. Frankly, I don't think
he's looking for me to speak unless he's asking a question. It seems
like he just enjoys describing and complimenting me.
He leaves me standing by the side of the bed, and goes
toward his jeans to retrieve a condom from his pocket. That's almost
unexpected in itself. The guy seems like the type to just stick it in
and say to hell with the consequences.
“
Just to be safe,” he says, although I can tell he'd
rather go without. I guess the same could be said for any guy really.
Like a pro he slides the rubber over the head of his
thick dick and up the shaft, reaching about two thirds of the way to
the base. It looks ribbed, little bumps running along its surface.
I'm pushed, literally, onto the bed now. My eyes spark
with an ounce of irritation but all he does is smile.
When he opens my legs and slowly dips his condom covered
dick through my lips, however, I forget all of that and just about
everything else in the world. When he pushes deeper, mining inside
me, I'm pretty sure my own name escapes me for a while.
I'm filled, and the pain I'd have expected doesn't come.
Probably because I'm so damn wet and he's taking it slow, only
inching in bit by bit, before pulling out, and then having another
go. Again, I'd have thought – from what little I know of him –
that he'd just stick it in and ignore my own needs.
But he doesn't. In fact, he's taking things gently,
slowly rocking his hips, gyrating them with the flexibility of a
gymnast, and probing at various angles as he shifts his weight and
steps from one leg to the other.
My own legs are also flung up into the air, one at a
time, and then both over his shoulders. He pulls my legs closed,
making the entrance to my pussy tighter, and continues to fuck me
like he's been doing it for a thousand years.
Then, he's got me twisting onto my side, both my legs to
the left lying one atop the other. He keeps going a bit more, before
twisting me further round until my breasts are squashed down into the
soft bed, the soles of my feet are planted onto the floor, and he's
pumping away behind me groaning and repeating over and over how
'fucking amazing my ass is.”
He sticks me from various doggy type positions, hitching
his left leg, then right leg, onto the bed for greater purchase,
before pushing me forward so I'm lying prone on the bed, legs closed.
I hear him gasp as he digs his dick between my ass cheeks, discovers
by tight black slit, and begins pumping his groin against my ass,
dick sliding so far into my pussy that I truly have forgotten who the
fuck I am by now.
I begin to lose track of time, my head reeling as if I'm
on some sex rollercoaster without any idea of where or when it's
going to stop, or what the fuck might be coming next.
I take no control at all, letting him move me around
like a plaything. But he's screwing me so well that I don't question
it or even say a word. I just moan and groan and lose myself to him
as he takes me by the hand toward the sort of orgasm that you see
porn stars faking.
But this one's real.
So real, in fact, that my usual bedroom reserve is
completely lost. By the times he's got me coming for the first time
I'm shrieking so loud that the guests staying next door actually make
a complaint, forcing a poor bellboy to have to knock on our door as
ask us, very politely of course, to keep it down.
“
It's not your fault, this shit hotel's got thin
walls,” says Vince, body now covered in sweat and hair dark and
wet.
He walks back to me, having gone next door to tell the
complainers to 'fuck off', dressed only in a white towel and with his
erect cock still very obvious behind it.
He drops the towel, climbs back onto me, and proceeds to
fuck me even harder in an attempt to make me come louder.
He succeeds, although I put all of my efforts into
keeping my voice down.
“
Fuck them. We can do what we want in our own room!”
He pumps again, harder, deeper, longer. And I wonder how
the hell he hasn't exploded all over me yet.
By the time he's reaching his own climax, he's slipping
out of me, tearing the condom off, and pulling me up into a seating
position on the bed. Then he coaxes my lips over his throbbing dick,
sliding it up and toward the back of my throat as my body continues
to convulse from my latest climax.
He doesn't warn me when he's going to come.
I feel it gushing right into my mouth, hot and salty,
covering my tongue and lips. It's not exactly what I had in mind, and
something I've never done before, but fuck it. I spit it all out,
though, right onto his chest, which only makes him laugh and call me
a prude.
“
I knew you weren't a swallower.”
By the time he's jizzed all over me, he looks pretty
spent, his eyes suddenly darker and more empty. As with most men
who've just come, he suddenly turns monosyllabic, while I'm drawn
toward the inexorable need to kiss him and lie naked next to him in
the bed.
All he does, though, is go to the bathroom, wipe his
chest clean of come, and then proceed to dress as I sit there, naked
and panting on the bed, wondering what to say.
“
You were great Abby, really great. But I've gotta go,
OK.”
That's all he says. He doesn't even tell me he'll be in
touch or even come over and give me a kiss, not even a peck on the
cheek.
Just a standard, pre-planned goodbye that he's probably
said a hundred times before. Although, to his credit, his does add:
“I'll pay for the room, as I said. Enjoy it for the rest of the
night, OK.”
Then he's off, stepping out into the corridor without
glancing back.
Chapter Three
When I wake the next morning it takes me a little while
to remember where I am and what happened the previous night.
As it all comes back to me, some strange feeling of
disbelief dawns, as if all I'm remembering is a dream that didn't
really happen.
Vince was, despite being arrogant, rude at times, and
incredibly controlling, the very best I could ever have expected from
an online hook up. He was so good, in fact, that I feel as if I've
well and truly made up for my two years without sex in that single
night alone.
Three orgasms, one of which was so fierce it brought a
complaint from the guests next door, was much more than I could
possibly have hoped for. And, like I said, it was all about sex and
nothing more. So that fact that the guy was a bit of a conceited dick
really doesn't matter.
In fact, it's probably a good thing. If he'd been sweet
and kind and had stayed over, maybe I'd have woken up actually
liking
him. God forbid I ever meet someone I actually like through such
seedy means. Not exactly a story of 'this is how we met' to tell your
grandchildren.
When I leave the room, and pass the key back to the guy
behind the counter downstairs, I double check to make sure that Vince
actually paid for the room.
“
Yes Miss,” I'm told, “all paid for.”
So, after fretting about him turning up at all, it's a
double win.
Great sex, completely free of charge!
I do a
little skip as I walk out the front entrance.
The day is warm, sunny, and seems brighter and more
glorious than it has for a while. After a night of great sex, that
will happen to you. In actual fact, it's pretty much just the same as
yesterday.
Really it's me and my mood that's changed.
Knowing that I had lunch planned with my mother, I'd
packed some sensible clothes. So thankfully I'm not stepping out in
the same summer dress and sexy lingerie as yesterday.
Today it's shorts, a light white top, and regular,
overlarge and far more comfortable underwear. The rest is tightly
packed in my small travel bag, along with my trusty vibrator.
It's roughly midday when I reach the restaurant, a
small, quaint little place near the South side of Central Park.
Through the window I see my mother waiting, short and blonde like me
and, frankly, looking rather beautiful. In fact, she looks so young
that people often mistake her for my sister, and not just when
they're trying to charm her.
And that happens a lot.
The charming part that is.
Men seem to fall at her heels on a daily basis, despite
the fact that she's nearing 50 now, and she's certainly not without
her ream of admirers back in Long Island where she lives.
I step in through the door, hear the little bell sound
above my head, and watch her leap to her feet, big smile on her face.
She seems ultra smart today, her hair with a brand new ultra stylish
cut.
“
Abby darling!” She comes forward and tucks me into
her small arms.
“
Hi mom, you're looking nice.”
“
Oh, this little thing.” She does a twirl in her
dress. “It's new, do you like it.”
“
Yeah, it's beautiful. Looks expensive.”
I drop my eyes accusingly, knowing my mother's penchant
for wasting money on nice clothes. Unfortunately, she doesn't have
the money she used to. Ever since my father lost his fortune during
the financial crash, she's been having to watch the cents and pennies
a lot more closely.
Of course, she divorced him soon after, citing
irreconcilable differences. Money will do that to a couple, break
them down until all they're doing is arguing and wondering why
they're together. And my mom, used to a particular way of life,
simply couldn't take it.
So, she dumped him before quickly picking up a new
boyfriend who could take care of her needs. That didn't last, of
course, but the hunt for her has never ended.
The search for money goes on...
So seeing her dress, it's not hard for me to imagine
where it must have come from. And the brightness of her smile would
suggest that perhaps one of those suitors has managed to snap her up.
“
I suppose it must have been...”
“
Where did you get it mom?” My tone is accusatory.
“
Well, we'll get to that,” she says, drifting back
toward the table. “Sit down, have a drink.”
She pours me a glass of wine from the bottle of chilled
rose and then leans forward.
“
So, how is my gorgeous little girl?”
“
Pretty much the same as when I saw you last. That was
only a week ago.”
“
I know, I know. But you're so young, things always
change fast when you're young. So, any good news on the job hunt.”
I take a deep breath and let it all out in a long sigh.
“
Not really. I've got an interview next week though.”
“
Well that's good!”
It isn't good, because I'm lying.
There's no interview. I just tell her these things to
keep her off my back and avoid further questioning about the
'direction of my life', which is a common topic that she seems intent
on revisiting each time we see each other.
“
And, what's it for?”
I shrug, thinking on the spot.
“
Just some admin role, mom. It's hard with a stupid
art degree to get anything much better.”
“
You'll find something great eventually honey. You're
my little Abbacus, you'll find your way.”
Urg. Abbacus. I've never liked that stupid nickname.
In an effort to get the attention off me, I turn the
conversation back to her in a bid to uncover the truth about this new
dress.
Without wanting to waste time, I just go ahead a blurt
it out, right after we've given our food orders to the attending
waiter.
“
So, who's the guy then?”
She looks up from her wine innocently, and a smile
begins to spread.
“
Come on, don't keep me in suspense. You've got me
here for a reason, so spill.”