Serendipity? Happenstance? Coincidence? - a study in destiny

Both.

It's not easy to think straight when your mouth is bobbing up and down on my cock. If you weren't so goddam talented at this, maybe I would notice the other people in the car, the advertisements above the hand-grabs, the slowing of the train as we approach the tube stop.

But behind the veneer of this paper, it's all a blur . . . and it turns to black when you drop your face all the way against my stomach, taking my cock completely into your throat and humming so that I can feel every part of me vibrating with electricity. Fuck, you're amazing! Raw talent . . .

. . . but we're stopped. You've stopped. I open my eyes. Everything focuses.

You've sat back, as instructed, and from the slight hum and the way you're sitting, it's clear that the vibrator is still sending its shivers and tingles all through you.

I've lowered the paper to cover my raging, glistening hard-on. I want you so fucking bad. How do you do this to me?

Sure, I asked for it . . . but more so as a challenge to see if you could actually get me to respond again this quickly after the saturation of this over-sexed weekend we're having. You're clearly up to the challenge.

The people getting on and off the train are only making me hornier . . . especially because some of them are sitting within view . . . or, at least peripheral view . . . because I'm not watching them.

I'm watching the hem-line of that dress . . . where your hand keeps disappearing as you toy with yourself. I'm listening to your moans and watching your squirms as you try to contain yourself.

I'm completely entranced.

Somewhere, deep inside my mind, there's a rebellion . . . wait one fucking second here! We're moving again!! What is she still doing over there?!

Hmmm . . . maybe she's chickening out . . . this is as all she can bring herself to do, with these men so close . . . maybe riding my cock would be taking it too far for her . . .

I'll make my intentions clear.
I move the newspaper, showing you that my cock is still plenty wet, and ready for you to straddle.

You're still playing . . .

I watch your legs as they lift, your dress as it slides, your hand as it moves, your pussy as it gets penetrated . . . again . . . and again. I look up to see you shake your head, turning down the offer of my lap with a grin.

That's not chickening out . . . that's teasing . . . we've only got a couple of minutes, though . . . why is she futzing around like this? That grin . . . it's defiant.

I can feel an intensity harden into the muscles of my face, my nostrils flaring. I can feel the steely look enter my eyes - it's the same look my dad used to get when something contradicted his authority - I'm being contradicted. My teeth are clenching . . . this is all happening without thought . . . like it's happening to me.

You glance at my camera.

Is that it? She just wants me to capture this first? There's no time!

You've closed your eyes now . . . escaping from my glare by focusing inside on the pleasure . . . and you moan from it. Getting carried away. My anger is rising, so my blood is pulsing, so my cock is throbbing, and I am now positive that I'm going to fuck you - no matter what.

The train heaves as the brakes decelerate us, and your eyes open again . . . to find my eyes locked on them.

You raise an eyebrow . . . with uncertainty? Or are you saying your rebellion is complete now?

I'd love to punish you by walking out - by leaving you without the deep fucking that you most desire. But what I want happens to be tied to what you want, and right now I want to get exactly what I want.

And I know what that is - despite the 2 college girls who replaced one of the businessmen - I'm going to fuck you on this train right now.

The doors slam shut.

I lean forward, forcing your feet against my knees to push you back against the seat. My hand thrusts out, grabs your wrist and flings your hand to the side. I take hold of the vibrator and, still pinning you, I slowly push it as far inside you as it can physically go.

I'm trying to keep my breathing contained. The calm of the anger is fueling me forward. It's like the eye of the storm . . . knowing something is raging nearby, but not yet willing to admit it.

Your body is exposed. People have gradually started to realize what's going on . . . and I'm exposing you to them deliberately now . . . knowing they keep sneaking glances . . . I can feel their eyes on us.

I slide onto my knees. I pull your legs forward - you gasp, and instinctively reach for the hold rail nearby - you're barely supported by the chair, dangling your ass in the air above my cock, your cunt dripping its juices into your ass crack and onto me.

How long can you hold yourself up? With your palms so sweaty and your body so hot . . . how can you keep yourself from impaling your ass on my cock? Do you want to resist it?

I'm watching the expression change on your face as your hand starts to slide slowly down the rail . . . and that first contact is made . . . and you realize where you are positioned.

I feel you try to rotate your hips under . . . to get me into position so that my cock can replace the vibrator that keeps humming inside your cunt . . . but the firm edge of the seat won't give you the room . . . and you're sliding . . . millimeters at a time . . . and the pressure against your ass is building . . . I can feel the muscles clenching.

I could move . . .

I could re-position myself . . .

I could let go of the vibrator and support you . . .

. . . . and you know it.

I'm still just watching your face. Staring into you, so you know that I have you. That you're mine right now.

The people watching must be surprised at how slowly we're moving . . . . as if to say, "why are they just sitting still like that?"

They don't understand . . .

My free hand starts at your neck and begins to caress onto your shoulder . . .

. . . onto your upper arm . . .


. . . onto your forearm . . .



. . . over your wrist . . .




. . . to your hand. The hand that's trying desperately to keep you from getting ass-fucked in front of all these people. And my cock is so wet from your mouth . . . and your ass is so slick from your juices . . . and the pressure is on the verge of breaking through the clenching you're trying to use to keep this from happening.

The vibe drops out as my hand swings down to lift your ass - rolling backwards onto my haunches as I pull your hand from the rail - and your cunt plunges down onto my cock. To the hilt.

Your knees on either side of me now support you as your tits fall against me, barely contained by your dress as I thrust up inside you . . . thrusting and bucking . . . my arms now wrapping around you to hold you firmly in place.

The anger is now being released into the fucking. The storm has breached onto the shore. There's no return.

Our moans and grunts echo through the train car as we dive deep into the fucking . . . oblivious.

If you weren't such a willing cock-slut, they might think I was raping you - everything is so forceful - so aggressive.

This fucking is a taking. It's an owning. It's a chastisement.

The rage-fuck is making me more animal, and animal fucking isn't built to last. Drop your load and be done with it - that's how animals fuck.

So I do - I let my cock thrust jet after jet of cum into your pussy - without a single moan or signal to show for it. Just fucking and fucking and fucking and faster and faster and fucking and faster and fucking until I'm done.

AND THEN I STOP.

I stop cold.

The train stops dead in its tracks.

I push you back onto the seat.

I stand up.

I zip up.

"Get your things."

I walk off.

Just onto the platform I stop, and wait for you to catch up.

I hear you fight off the closing doors before I sense you clambering up next to me.

I look at the ground beneath your feet - clean.

Wait for it . . .

A splash of cum drops to the concrete.

There it is.

I look forward again, straight ahead.

"Did you enjoy your first-ever subway orgasm?"

I turn my head to see the look I expected . . . it's in the neighborhood of, "You know damn well that I never - "

I stare into you . . . softening slightly as the storm is passing.

"Good."

We head for the stairs.

--
 
What Now?

I stand there feeling your cum dripping out of my pussy and onto the floor of the station. The look of satisfaction on your face combined with your smug "Did you enjoy your first-ever subway orgasm?" has me so mad I could slap you.

Add to that the fact that you never actually let me get to orgasm and the threat of fucking me in the ass when you know its a no-go. I'm about ready to explode from rage and passion and pent up sexual tension, despite the fact that I had an orgasm a little over an hour ago.

I brush past you as you stand at the foot of the stairs and jog up them, feeling the bag slung over my shoulder bounce on my butt with every step. I don't care where you are right now or whether or not you're following me. My cheeks are heated from the flush of an almost orgasm and perhaps a little embarrassment that I could forget myself so totally and fuck you on the tube. Is there CCTV? Have I just ruined my career? Its not even worth thinking about the consequence of that moment of total irresponsibility. Even if it was so hot I'm sure there must be scorch marks burnt into where we sat.

I put my sunglasses on my face as I get out into the sunlight, feeling the heat of it on my bare shoulders. I take a few deep breaths, breathing in the clean non-tube air and feeling some of the anger diminish. I take a few steps to the right, glancing over my shoulder to see if you're behind me. I can see the top of your head bobbing through the crowd coming up the stairs and figure you'll catch up eventually.

I keep walking to the right until I find somewhere with a restroom. I see a Starbucks and head there, going in and heading straight to the back to the restroom. I really don't give a damn where you are right now. I'm not even sure if I want to be around you for the rest of your time here. I just know I need to calm down and get some perspective on what happened between us.

I go into the unisex bathroom and look the door, cleaning myself up and sliding a fresh pair of panties on. Lets see you try and get past those I think as I look in the mirror and tidy myself up, thinking over whats just happened. I know I teased you and even got you to the point where you felt you needed to punish me for it. For my disobedience. But getting so close to doing something I've made clear I don't like? Would that be rape? I shake my head at thought, even though I barely know you I'm sure you wouldn't have gone there. Would you?

I'm ready to face the world and you, if you've caught up. Fresh lip gloss on my lips, my hair all neat and tidy, looking almost calm. Nothing like that girl who lost all control in the tube. My dress is back in position, breasts contained back in my bra, panties firmly in place.

I order a Caramel Hot Chocolate, paying for it and waiting to the side for it to be made. What now? I wonder, feeling my anger slip away and something unnamed replacing it. Regret that I might have just blown things out of proportion. Worry that you haven't followed me. A dully ache between my thighs from almost satisfaction and maybe even a little in my heart from an emotion I can't name.
 
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Trail blazer

You take off up the stairs, and I get one final flicker of fulfillment from the flashes of your bare ass as you go. Wondering where this puts us, since I barely know you, I head for the exit too, now a ways behind you.

When I reach the top, I can see your flaming red hair bobbing through the crowd far ahead of me. Jesus, you really know how to blaze a trail when you want to.

I start to follow, wanting to reach out from behind you and clutch one shoulder in each of my hands and hold you still until you calm down, but I just stop.

Maybe she wasn't into it - didn't want it like that. Hell, maybe the fact that she's the best fuck I've ever had, by a long shot, doesn't mean we're compatible in the long-term . . . it would have been a long-distance relationship for fuck's sake!

I stand still . . . deliberating even more . . . an ounce of doubt beginning to settle in. Pretty soon, it occurs to me that a.) I may not catch up to you, b.) I've got work to do, and c.) you know where I'm staying.

So I start walking again, but with an eye for a TimeOut London on a newsstand. I've got to get a finger on the pulse of what's here, so I can have something to sell by the time I get home.

Not far down, I spot a TimeOut stack in a coffee shop window - pretty sure we ended up getting out at the Covent Garden tube stop, if I know London. Anyway, I step into the place - it's call Monmouth Coffee - grab a copy of the mag and head past all the shelves of roasted beans to the cafe in the back.

Once I've got my coffee, my sanity, and my bearings (pretty sure I'm near Soho) . . . I grab a seat on a bench and start to read the local happenings.

My eye is immediately caught - London Paranormal presents: The Ghost Festival. A haunted history walk in Smithfield, a haunted London Underground walking tour, and a ghost watch in the War Room of the Cabinet. Perfect "insider stuff" that's going to be really timely, if I get the digital pics immediately over to the States for the Halloween editions of some of my reliable buyers.

Let's see just how creepy I can make these pics look . . . should be interesting going back into the subway, at night, with a group of people, after what we just did in that train car . . .

I do want to see her again . . . but we'll see how it goes . . . either way, it's been one hell of a ride so far, and I've got the pictures to prove it.

Time to go take some more.

--
 
Decisions

I sit there nursing my drink for a lot longer than I usually would, just on the off chance you're walking past outside in search of me or perhaps you're simply waiting out there for me to come outside so we can talk. I soon realise neither is going to happen.

So what now? What do I do? What are my options?

I could go home, unpack my overnight bag and go back to being Susan, the girl who hasn't had sex in so long there must have been cobwebs in my panties. But a girl with some pretty amazing fantasies and memories to masturbate over.

I could go to your hotel room. I could wait for you in the lobby or find a way to get into your room and wait for you in it. Then apologise for my over reaction and see what you say.

I could try and google your name, looking for an email address or phone number and send you an apology that way. Maybe get in touch now and see if you wanted to meet back up again.

I nibble on my bottom lip as I think it all over and try to decide what to do. My heart is telling me that I need to find you again. My head is telling me I overreacted to a situation I put myself into by teasing you and making you react in the way you did.

So that's the answer. Its time to apologise and make peace with you. You're probably off taking photos of something interesting but I can wait all day if I have to.

Decision made I get back on the tube and ignoring the blush I feel heat my face as I step on it I take a seat. I'm soon at the stop I need and making my way back up towards your hotel.

Once there I greet the receptionist with a warm smile and ask if it would be possible to get a key to your room. I tell her the story of how we met but I've caused a fight and need to make it up to you. Luckily I'm talking to a romantic and I'm soon in the elevator on the way up your floor.

My heart is thumping in my chest as I get to your door. I knock a couple of times and wait a minute or two. There's no answer. I don't know if that's a bad thing or not.

I let myself in and stow my bag away. Seeing the housekeeping has been and the bed is freshly made I give into the desire to lie down. Curling up on my side in a pool of sunlight I close my eyes and try not to worry. I soon drift off to sleep, making up for the lack of it the night before and wait.
 
The early evening tour

I have a couple hours to kill before the sun starts to go down and the Haunted Underground tour begins, so I head toward some food and a beer (or two . . fine) at a pub in SoHo.

I'm starting to get antsy, because I've really got to get these photos edited and submitted ASAP or I'm not getting paid. From what the rest of the paper told me, there's not much else going on this time of year. It might be too late to get these to print, but they can always do a small feature on "spend next Halloween in London, and here's what you may find," even if people wouldn't be able to make it this year.

One plate of bangers and mash (served in a Yorkshire pudding, just like they did at the Elbow Room in Stratford) and a few pints later, I'm ready to go Underground again.

Richard%20Ghost.jpg


Our host, Richard . . not a ghost​

The tour was led by an eccentric, but extremely knowledgeable, man named Richard. We had access to some old construction areas that were used to build the tube system, as well as some maintenance areas that are all sealed off to the public. The tour would have been mildly creepy in broad daylight (since broad daylight never reaches down here) but with Richard's added storytelling mixed with this one 11-year old girl's shrill screaming every time her foot bumped into so much as a pebble, it actually gave you goose bumps every now and then. Fun stuff.

Now that I'm back above ground and we've all thanked Richard, I'm noticing that what I was missing most was fresh, cool, night air (as fresh as it gets in SoHo anyway). It feels great to breathe deeply and see the city coming alive for the night.

Wish I could stay and play . . . this is a really fun part of town. Maybe if I'm quick at my editing and e-mailing I can get back down here and celebrate a fantastic 3-country tour . . . weird to think my plane flies out Monday afternoon . . . I feel like I've been here for weeks already, with everything that's happened . . but it's only Saturday night!

Back down into the tube - the passenger's approach this time - and off to the hotel to get some work done.

--
 
Relaxing.

I wake up from my nap feeling cooler, the rays of afternoon sun have disappeared and I'm still alone in your room. I give myself a moment or two to wake up then think over my options from here. Maybe you've checked out? Decided not to come back here. I glance over at the desk nearby and see your laptop and a camera bag and realise you must still be in London.

What should I do? Maybe you've gone to look for some other girl? Maybe you're a serial dater, or worse.. a serial fucker. I can't help the green eyed monster that rears its head at the thought and my stubborn streak sets in. If you're going to come back here with some other girl then I'll make it difficult for you.

I go to my bag and get out my toiletries, deciding a shower or perhaps even a bath might make me feel better. I deliberately leave a trail of my clothing from near the door to the bathroom, one shoe then the other, my dress then my bra and panties too.

Once in the bathroom I fill the tub and add a decent amount of the hotel bubble bath to it. I might as well do this properly and I deserve a relaxing bath after all that's gone on. I twist my hair into a top knot and check the temperature of the water. Perfect.

Slipping into the warm bath I rest my head back on the bath pillow provided and close my eyes, feeling the days tensions float away. I'm half listening out for you, wondering if you'll return home and if it will be alone or not. I'd like to think what we had was something unique maybe even special but I'm aware I can be a bit of a romantic.

Needing a distraction I turn on the jets at the sides of the pool and let them massage my skin. I close my eyes and try not to think of the comparison of lapping water on my breasts to your tongue. I try not to imagine how hot it would be to have you here in the tub with me and what we could do as we're lying here together.

Before I can stop myself I've lifted one of my feet to rest on the side of the tub. With my legs parted I can angle my hips and turn just a little so one of the jets sends bubbles between my thighs to tease me. I sigh as I feel my body becoming aroused and continue to wait for you to arrive back here.
 
Ups and Downs

As I finish walking the last block to the hotel, I realize what a pissy mood I've slipped into . . . probably a mix between coming down off those 3 pints of Strongbow, being forced to rush to get this job edited and submitted, and maybe knowing that I'm probably not going to get laid by a hot stranger again (not that I need more sex after that marathon last night and this morning . . . but still . . . it was fuckin' hot while it lasted).

Walking through the lobby, I can't help but notice that I'm getting looks from the hottie at the front desk. Maybe that's a possibility? Might be interesting . . . never hooked up with a staff member before. As I glance over to give her one last look before I finish crossing to the elevators, it occurs to me that the vibe she's sending my way isn't attraction -- it's excitement. Like the eagerness of a child to find out what's inside a Christmas present. Or a giddy fan wanting a celebrity to come walking out the backstage door.

My eyebrows furrow deeper. What the fuck's she so excited about? Does she just love a man with a big camera? . . . huh . . . maybe I'll have room service send her up later so I can find out . . . right now, I've got work to do.

The elevator arrives, and I step in.

On the way up, I notice I'm doing that "pushing and pulling on my face with both hands" thing that I do when I'm beat. Stepping out of the elevator, I start rubbing my neck too.

Let's just get this thing done, and then get some real sleep tonight . . . c'mon, man . . . just push through it.

With 2 hours of work to do before I get to crawl into that bed - glamorous, international life, remember? - I slip the key into the lock, and turn.

But it just spins - no resistance.

Do they do locks backwards in England too?

No . . . I've been here before . . . they go the same way we do.


I turn it back the other way.

It locks with a forceful thud.

I check it. Yep. Locked.

It was unlocked!

Jesus, my laptop with all my data!

I slam the key back the other way, unlocking the door, and barrel into the room in a panic. Stepping on a shoe, I twist my ankle and flail to the floor, barely catching my camera before I face-plant into the carpet near another shoe.

I don't remember . . . leaving . . . . . . a shoe . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . and I black out.

--
 
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I Think I Killed Him?!

Lying there in the tub for so long I can feel the water starting to cool off and my fingers are getting all pruney. Yep, thats just the seductive look I was going for. Doesn't every man want a girl with prune like fingers to caress his naked body? I'm laughing softly to myself at the thought as I hear the unmistakable sound of a key going into the door. I tense up, biting my lip. Here we go.

Only the door doesn't open. I listen more intently, wondering if I've heard the sound of the door across the hall being unlocked or the one next door. But then I hear it once more, the sound of the door locking, then opening, then being slammed back against the wall. Deciding this doesn't sound normal I stand and get out of the tub and its as I do that I hear a loud thump.

My heart is starting to race as I open the bathroom door, still dripping wet but more concerned about making sure none of Ed's cameras or laptop are stolen. I peek my head around the door and look into the main part of the hotel room, gasping with shock as I do.

"ED?!"

I fling the door open and run into the room, kneeling beside you as you lie there on the floor. My shoe is near your foot and I realise that instead of the seductive trail of clothes I thought I was leaving I've actually left a giant booby trap. No time for guilt, I've got to make sure you're okay.

I gently turn you onto your back, smiling as I see how carefully you've cradled your camera. I take it off you and bite my lip hard, hoping I haven't killed you or something. I check your pulse, breathing a sigh of relief when I find one then running my fingers over your face and through your hair in the search of a bump. "Ed.. fuck.. Wake up.. are you okay?" I say as unhysterically as I can manage.

I gently shake you, hearing a soft moan of complaint and realising that should be a good sign. I run into the bathroom to get a facecloth wetting it with cold water then returning to your side I rest my improvised compress on the redness I can see developing on your forehead "Fuck.. Ed.. you have to wake up. This was meant to be an apology and now I've almost killed you or something." I shake you a little more roughly this time, wanting to make you wake up.

I rest the cold cloth on your forehead and unbutton your shirt, wanting to make sure you didn't get bruised from the camera on your chest. There is no immediate sign of bruising and I breathe another sigh of relief. I haven't broken your ribs or something. I glance down and see my hair is dripping water onto your chest but I'm too concerned about you to care about being wet and naked.

I turn and crawl down to your feet, realising they might be hurt from your fall if my shoe near them is anything to go by. I carefully take first one then the other shoe off, followed by your socks but I can't tell properly with your pants on. I look up to your face, hoping you've regained consciousness but you haven't yet. I shake my head as I work on your belt then zipper, pulling your pants down your leg roughly, figuring it might jolt you back awake.

Once your pants are off I straddle your legs and lean down, comparing one ankle to the other and seeing they're okay. There doesn't appear to be much if any swelling so at least I haven't broken your ankle. What now? How do I wake you up?

I try to remember all my first aid training. Recovery positions, how to do CPR, it all comes back to me but what do I do for someone who has blacked out? Leave them and wait for them to come out of it naturally or should I stimulate you somehow to wake you up.

I move back to kneel beside you, biting my lip as I try once more "Ed.. wake up Honey. I need you to wake up." You moan once more, a little louder than before and I wonder if you're starting to come to. Stimulation might work. I rub my knuckles lightly over your chest, wondering if pain is the right kind of stimulation. I quickly realise I haven't done it hard enough for you to feel and that I can't do that, can't inflict pain on you. At least not intentionally. Maybe pleasure is the answer?

I bite my lip and wonder for a moment if its not a little weird to consider pleasuring an unconscious man but I need to wake you up to see if you're okay. I straddle your legs once more, facing you as I slide my hands over your chest and down your stomach towards your underwear. Surely if I can make you hard there can't be too much wrong with you? Its just like a test, isn't it?

I push your underwear down your thighs just far enough to free your cock. My hands stroke over it, feeling your response as it begins to harden. I lean in and brush my lips from the base to the tip and feel it harden the whole way in my hand. I smile as I feel it, thinking surely you'll be okay if I can give you a hardon?

Some kind of instinct takes over then, or perhaps I'm just trying to make sure you really do know I'm sorry. I slide the head of your cock into my mouth and begin to bob my head up and down. I move slowly, cautiously because I don't want to give you a fright when you come to. My gaze never leaves your face, trying to judge your reaction, trying to see if you've woken up.

My hands stroke over your thighs and balls as my mouth slides up and down your cock. My pace gradually gets faster and I'm willing your hands to move into my hair because it would be a sign of you being conscious. But they don't. Surely if I deep throat you, you'll react? I slide your cock into my throat and hold you there as I look up into your face.

I see your eyes start to flutter open as my head bobs up and down. Your head starts to move as if you're trying to clear out the fog and I pause, taking your cock back into my mouth, waiting for your eyes to open. They finally do and I'm so grateful I forget about your cock and move higher up your body.

I'm straddling your hips now as I look down into your eyes and whisper "Fuck Ed.. I'm so damn sorry. I wasn't trying to kill you or hurt you or anything I was just trying to seduce you but I guess I'm fucking useless at that huh?" I shake my head as I look to the side

"Your camera is okay, you cradled it to your chest and you're not bruised or anything. There is a bit of a bump on your head though.." I babble as I lift the cloth and run my fingers over the redness on your forehead "I'm so damn sorry. I was just hurt earlier and then I lost you so I convinced the receptionist to let me into your room and then I fell asleep waiting for you. So then I decided to seduce you and I was in the spa bath with all the bubbles and I heard someone breaking in and I thought I'd stop them stealing your things only it was you."

I take a deep breath and look down into your eyes, trying to calm myself as I realise I'm on the verge of a panic attack. "I'm just really sorry Ed.."

_________________________________________________________________​

OOC: Soul has just pointed out to me that we might have people who are actually following this.. rather than just randomly finding it and reading it. If thats the case send me a private message and tell me what you think? I'm curious..
 
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Fade In - Hotel Room

Everything is music.

I can hear this mix of rhythms . . . tribal? Jazz? Sometimes more straight-rock, and sometimes more improvisational.

Thump ----- (ba dugga) ------- thump --------- (dugga da) ---------- thrump-a-da --------- thump ------------(ba - ba - bump, ba dugga dugga dugga dugga dugga)

Fast and then slow, soft and then loud -- hurting my ears, these clapping, thundering thuds raining down on me . . . so much pain . . .

Finally, all is calm except for that central, low, throbbing . . .

---- Thump ----

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

Is that a belt buckle? That's odd . . .

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

My fingers and toes are tingling . . .

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

. . . . no, my toes are tingling . . .

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

. . . my fingers are cold and wet.

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

That goddam sound needs to shut it!

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

Wait, that's my head.

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

Oh damn, it's a throbbing pain.

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

I would have preferred just the sound . . .

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- S-L-U-R-P ----

- - - - - - - - - - -

Well, there's a sound!

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

---- S-L-U-R-P ----

I'd know that sound anywhere . . .

- - - - - - - - - - -

---- Thump ----

---- S-L-U-R-P ----

---- S-L-U-R-P ----

Whadda ya know . . . there's colors . . .

---- S-L-U-R-P ----

. . . and light! I see light!

---- S-L-U-R-P ----

Somebody is getting their cock sucked . . .

---- S-L-U-R-P ----

---- S-L-U-R-P ----

. . . I love that sound. So hot.

---- S-L-U-R-P ----

---- S-L-U-R-P ----

---- S-L-U-R-P ----

. . . how did I get on the floor again?

---- S-L-U-R-P ----

Hey, that's her! . . . Whoa! And her face is coming this way!

"Fuck Ed.. I'm so damn sorry. I wasn't trying to kill you or hurt you or anything I was just trying to seduce you but I guess I'm fucking useless at that huh?"

Wow she is crazy-close all up in my face about something . . .

. . . Maybe if I blink . . .

. . . take a deep breath . . .

OK . . . feeling better . . . now let's open these eyes again . . .


"Your camera is okay, you cradled it to your chest and you're not bruised or anything. There is a bit of a bump on your head though..."

Ow, fuck! What is she pressing on my head?! Jesus, that hurts!!

"I'm so damn sorry. I was just hurt earlier and then I lost you so I convinced the receptionist to let me into your room and then I fell asleep waiting for you. So then I decided to seduce you and I was in the spa bath with all the bubbles and I heard someone breaking in and I thought I'd stop them stealing your things only it was you."

She's going on about something, but all I can feel is this gripping pain and this freezing cold, wet skin all over my body . . . it's hers . . . and now I'm all wet . . . God, she's frantic about something.

"I'm just really sorry Ed..."

Huh . . . whatever . . . hate to see her so sad . . . I should say something . . . anyway, I just want to warm up . . .

"Yeah, uh . . . that's OK, Susan. No problem. Uh . . . look, I love this whole 'straddling my body thing,' . . . you know that I do . . . but you are freezing fucking cold, you know that?! So . . . let's just . . . uh . . . warm up in the shower . . . wait . . . did you say you already had one? . . . maybe we can dry off . . . yeah, we'll dry off and then just get in bed . . . . that sounds . . . uh . . . . good, right?"

I move to stand up, and you clear the way to stand with me, but you've got this look in your eye . . . you're being so delicate with me, like I'm a kid or something! What is her deal?! You watch me stand like it's my first time and you want to make sure you catch me if I fall.

I look at you with a distinct and expectant, "Well? . . . " in my expression. I'm not just going to stand here freezing with my cock swinging in the wind all night . . .

You step over these clothes that seem to be all over the floor, and go get us some towels.

Hrmmm . . . I do want to lay down, but I feel like there was something I was supposed to do tonight . . . Oh well.

You return, and we start to dry ourselves off. Why is she always looking over sideways at me like that? Did I get a nose piercing this afternoon or something? Stop being all panicky . . . you're freakin' me out!!

I try to smile, but it comes out awkward.

I drop the towel, move to the bed, and pull back the sheets . . . I'm fuckin' freezing!!

"Come help me warm up, would you? It's been a weird night . . . . I think . . . "

--
 
I keep looking at you, trying to gauge why you're acting as if nothing happened between us today. Have you forgotten? Do you have amnesia? Fuck.. what have I done to you? Is it permanent. Take a breath Susan, hes fine. Maybe. There is only the slightest bump on his head and he seems to be able to stand up straight.

I go and get the towels as you request them, not realising that I've made you cold with my body and only feeling the goosebumps coming up over my skin as you mention how cold you are. I'm not that cold. Are you in shock? I hand you the towel, still watching you carefully without trying to make it seem like I am. It doesn't help that your cock is still bobbing about and I'm still feeling a lusty tingle between my thighs.

I dry myself off but I'm more concerned with making sure that you're okay and don't manage to dry myself as quickly as you do. Each stroke of the towel over a limb is punctuated by my stopping to look at you and make sure you're still upright. I should look at your pupils, isn't that a sign of concussion? I bite my lip as I run the towel over my body then work on my hair as you get into the bed on your side. I'm careful to position the towel on my head so I can still watch you. Fuck. I've never done anything so stupid.. thats definitely the last time I try to seduce someone.

I drop the towel as you speak, "Come help me warm up, would you? It's been a weird night . . . . I think . . . " Fuck.. you really can't remember what happened huh? Do I remind you? Where do we go from here? I gingerly get into the bed, crawling under the covers to get close to you then rearranging them back around us to make sure no cold air is let in.

I press my body to the side of yours, tangling my legs with yours by sliding one of mine between yours. I nuzzle into your neck and slide my fingers through your hair, massaging it as I whisper "Its been an interesting day and night Ed but I'm not sure what you got up to though.."

I pause as I brush a kiss over your neck and nuzzle in closer, sliding my hands down your neck and over your chest as I do "I stayed here in your hotel room, waiting for you to come back. Well technically I broke in. I told the receptionist we'd have a lovers tiff and I wanted to surprise you. I guess you went out and took photos because you needed to today. I think you had a deadline tonight? I was in the bathtub when you came home and I think you tripped over my shoe. You blacked out Ed.." I say softly.

I bite my lip as I lie there quietly under the covers with you, waiting to hear if you'll remember anything and if you'll get pissed off with me. My hand continues to caress over your chest and stomach, fingernails lightly scratching circles over your skin as I wait to hear you kick me out of bed.
 
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Gray is such a nice color . . .

Climbing into bed, I realize that I've still got a hard-on. I've always loved the way hotel sheets feel on my body, and there's an extra sensitivity when my cock is big like this - just makes the whole experience better.

I'm enjoying that . . . or was, until it occurred to me that all this pain pulsing in my head to the rhythm of my heart beat is probably being made worse by the fact that my heart is pumping all that blood to my cock . . . and I'm already drifting in and out as I think these things . . .

. . . floating . . .

. . . the sheets lift behind me, and you crawl in and fit into my curves with yours. "It's been an interesting day and night, Ed, though I'm not sure what you got up to..."

Hrmmmm . . . what was it . . . I remember Johannesburg, and coming to London . . . so I know I'm in London (even though you don't sound British).

Your fingers running through my hair create a different rhythm that changes my focus . . . that's nice . . .

"I stayed here in your hotel room, waiting for you to come back. Well technically.." My mother used to run her fingers through my hair . . . really soothing . . . "..and I wanted to surprise you. I guess you went out and.." Starting to warm up . . . that's good . . . your body is so fantastic . . . I can feel the beauty of skin-on-skin . . . soft, and clean . . . "..I was in the bathtub when you came home and I think.." Maybe I should have gone with the bathtub option . . . or at least a shower . . . she's got that naked & clean thing going, but here I am feeling all weird and groggy and sore . . .

You kiss me on the back of the neck. Your hand circles around on my chest and stomach. You're being really nurturing. I think that's what I need right now. Hell, I don't know what I need right now, because that damn hand is also making me wish you'd circle lower.

I grab your hand, pull it against my chest, and hold it still there for a while . . . let's see if I can just let go of the need for sex and sleep off this pain instead.

But our legs are all woven together . . . Just relax, Ed . . let it go.

But your nipples are cold and hard against my back . . . C'mon, man . . . just get some sleep . . . you're not thinking right.

But your hand was only a couple inches away . . .

I take my firm grip on your wrist, and use it to pull your hand straight down, across my stomach, to my cock.

You grab on. I let go.

--
 
The Age Old Debate..

You're still not talking and I'm trying not to worry but you also seem to be relaxing into my body and into the caresses of my hands over your body so maybe you're a) not concussed and b) not pissed at me. Both are a relief.

I'm babbling so I stop and just concentrate on caressing you in long sweeping motions that also encompass your neck, shoulders, chest and even flow over your stomach. I brush kisses here and there, unable to resist the urge to give you those small caresses too.

I'm trying to soothe your body, trying to show you how sorry I am for injuring you. I'm surprised as you stop my hand on your chest, wondering if I'm hurting you or if you're about to kick me out of bed and your hotel room. I bite my lip and wait for you to speak, already deciding I'll comply with whatever you're about to say.

So I'm almost shocked when you slide my hand over your stomach and rest it over your hard cock. I'm surprised by how hard your cock is, I didn't think you were aroused right now. I thought you were tired, injured, hell.. even a little concussed.

I can't help my reaction. Its like an automatic reaction and my fist wraps around your shaft. My thumb rubs over the head of your cock, coming away sticky with your precum. I bite my lip as I resume my kisses over your shoulder and neck while slowly moving my fist up and down your shaft.

I begin to feel your hips rocking, just a slight motion back and forth but enough to signal that this is what you wanted and you potentially want more. I find myself having the same old internal debate when I'm at this point. Pussy or mouth? Which do I want more? Which do you want more? I'm torn because both feel damn good to me but I want this to feel good for you.

I slide down the bed, under the covers and straddle your legs. I scoot down further so my knees are near your calves and lean down to brush my lips over your shaft once more. The tip of my tongue dances over your cock, until I get to the head and can taste the pearls of moisture there.

I smile as I take you back into my mouth, going slow so you can stop me but also so I can tease you. My hands begin to caress over your thighs and balls, lightly stroking you as my head begins to bob up and down. Everything is slow, like I'm taking my time to savour your body. I'm waiting for another signal this is definitely what you want. Waiting to see what your answer is to my debate. Pussy or mouth?
 
Effortless . . .

I'm not sure how I thought that just moving your hand to my cock would solve anything. When I did it, I sort of just figured that a few strokes would somehow soothe or silence the need in me, and that I could just drift off to sleep from there, knowing that everything would be fine.

Now, I feel like a guy with a gambling addiction who thought he'd go to the casino . . . just to watch. You know, because he likes the chance element of it all.

But the taste is all that's needed . . . he wants a bite.

And the bite is all that's needed . . . he wants a meal.

Pretty soon, he's 10K down, all in, staring at a possible straight and the river card delivers a full house to the other guy instead.

As you slide under the covers and part my legs, I naturally roll onto my back. It occurs to me that I will drift off, at some point . . . and that everything will be just fine . . . soon . . . but that I'm going to hit the jackpot first.

You tease with your tongue at first, but pretty soon . . . I'm all in.

In my half-clear state I realize that you're giving me a true gift . . . effortless pleasure. This is exactly what I need right now.

The aches in my head and shoulders seem more distant as you continue to slide your warm mouth down the shaft of my cock, and your tongue bathes and flicks the head in turn - you are masterful.

Your hands bring attention to my thighs, which are relaxing, and my hips, which are clenching and thrusting in a desire to get deeper inside you.

My mind is cutting through the fog . . . you're connecting me to that primal, central, total focus on a single thing -- desire / ecstasy / pleasure, call it what you will; it is the only thing that exists right now.

Your pace is increasing. Your hand is helping. Your suction is tightening. My body is building. Each taste bud - one of thousands of little tickles of texture on the underside of my head - is begging.

My hands instinctively grab into your hair to command your rhythm and placement, knowing I'm about to reach the point of no return.

God, you know how to coax the cum out of a cock. I can't not explode with orgasm right now -- your talent is irresistible.

As my cock starts bathing your throat with cum, I am fucking your mouth in earnest . . . I want to give it all to you . . . and you hungrily take it from me.

Pulsing and pumping and thrusting and moaning and pulling and pushing until eventually I reach that point . . .

Goddamn, I hate that point . . . . . the one where I feel like I've got twice as much cum to give, but the orgasm has already run its course . . . still thrusting - - wishing - - maybe it will come back . . . the occasional orgasm delivers a resurgence . . . . but not this one . . . . I've spent everything I came with. God, I just want that pleasure to go on and on and on . . . but I know it's already over. And we slow down.

And I hear a final slurp before feeling my cock thump against my stomach.

I just realized there's a smile on my face. My body is warm - anesthetized.

Peace.

Clarity.

I feel you sliding up alongside my body, and eventually your head comes to rest on my shoulder - your hair smells fantastic - you drape one knee across my thighs and sigh.

Who knew a sex kitten could be so nurturing? I'm filled with gratitude.

"Thank you," I murmur as I start to drift away . . . contented.

--
 
Fixing my Mistakes.

I never really thought of giving a blow job to a guy for medicinal purposes. Who knew it would be so affective? Apparently it is though, because not only did you relax and give into the pleasure I gave you, you're now sleeping as soundly as a baby. Good.

I quietly slip out of bed and get one of the hotels room, slipping inside its plush warmth I begin to fix the messes I've made. I take the towels back to the bathroom and empty out the tub. Quietly making the bathroom neat and tidy once more.

I then move back into the main room and begin to pick up my clothing, and yours. Each item is folded and stored away in the dresser or wardrobe, no longer on the floor. I pick up my shoes and consider just tossing them into the trash, how could I have hurt you with them? I shake my head as I stow them away, completely out of the way so no more mishaps can happen.

I notice your camera and its only then that I remember your talk of a deadline and the need to take photos today. I know a little about computers but I don't know enough about photography to know what you'd do with the photos once they're on your laptop. Or even who to send them to once they're there. I sit down at the desk, turning on your laptop and hopping for an answer to my dilemma. I bite my lip as I think it over, what to do?

The laptop starts up and I open up your email programme, the new ones come rolling in and I see one of the newest is an email asking about the photos you were taking. I quickly reply, saying you'd had a medical emergency but should be free to send the photos in the next day or so. I hope the email sounds like something you'd say as I promise the photos are spectacular. And hope even more that you won't be angry at me for sending it.

I leave the camera and computer where they are and return back to bed. I've done all I can do for now and just hope that I'll be able to make this up to. I drop the robe and get under the covers, sliding up to your body and hugging you close as I do. I drift off to sleep, hoping all will be okay in the morning.
 
Brand New Day

It's not often that it happens, but it's so delicious when it does.

I'm talking about that feeling of drifting up and out of a dream, aware of the fact that you've just been dreaming, and realizing before you even open your eyes that you've had an incredibly restful and refreshing night of sleep . . . healthy body, clear mind . . . ready to conquer the world . . . all of which is confirmed with your eyes open to soft light and a small breeze coming in through off the balcony . . . and everything is right with the world.

The fact that sleeping beauty has half her head on my pillow and the other half on my shoulder, with her breath hitting my neck and chest with every exhale, makes it twice as good.

You smell amazing, you know that?

I wonder if she's aware of my thoughts in her dreams, somehow. Seems possible, considering how many other powerful talents she has.

After my eyes drift closed and back open a few times, and my thoughts float from surreal to realistic with them, it's finally time to get out of bed.

What will today bring? How could my time with her get any better than it's already been? What new part of London will we --

Holy Fuck, I'm in London!

And I took those photos for yesterday's deadline!! What the hell happened?!


I rush to my camera, grab the cable out of the bag, and connect it to the laptop as it fires up . . . and I hear you stir and murmur contentedly in the bed behind me.

Coming completely to life, the computer displays my Entourage inbox . . . the business folder is retrieving new messages . . . let's see, "Call for Submissions" for the Jersey State Cultural Affairs Department Photography Exhibition . . . couple of replies to some freelancing applications I sent out . . . . . . and an e-mail from Jake at Travel World Publications - that's the one!

[OPEN]

Deadline's a deadline, Ed. You know that. Sorry about whatever medical thing came up, but we're going to print with what we've got.

Jake

PS - you OK?


[END]


Damn. Not a big job, but the money would have been nice. Can't believe I didn't send those in yesterday! Must have been really drunk . . .

. . . where did I drink?

I don't
remember drinking . . .

Wow . . . must have been really drunk!


The rustling of sheets behind me reminds me that I've got more pleasant things to focus on. I turn around to see your lazily grinning face, framed by your perfectly tousled hair.

"Hold still," I command.

And I grab my camera . . .

Redhead%20in%20am.jpg



"Mmmmmm . . . you smell amazing, you know that?"



--
 
I laugh softly as you take my photo and tell me how good I smell. I snuggle in closer to the covers and smile, shrugging as I do "Its just shampoo.. bodywash.. me.."

I flutter my eyelashes at you as I speak, feeling happy that you're okay and not mad at me and feeling the happiest I have in a while.

I smile as I stretch my arms up over my head and point my toes towards the foot of the bed, my body beginning to wake up.

"I hope you're going to give me copies of all these photos. So I've got something to remember our time together by." I grin mischievously as another thought comes to mind "And something to masturbate over when I'm all alone in bed. It'd be so much nicer than porn."

Then it occurs to me, why not make our own porn? We've taken photos.. this is simply the next step up. "Can your fancy camera's record a movie?"

I sit up in bed, letting the sheets pool around my hips as I think it over "And do you feel like being a star? You can pick your own name if you like.. Dick Johnson could work.." I tease with a laugh.

I'm debating with myself as to whether or not I should ruin this light, fun mood by reminding you I gave you a concussion last night. You either can't remember or you've had your own internal debate and decided against bringing it up. Maybe I'll just follow your lead.

I lie back against the pillows, stacking them behind me so I can lie propped up "But what could my name be? Pussy Galore? Like the Bond girl? Was she a Bond girl?"

I shrug as I laugh once more, my gaze travelling over your naked body as you stand somewhere at the end of the bed

"Back to my point.. a) do you wanna fuck?" I tease, deliberately using a more crude way of asking "And b) do you want to make me your slut using more than just still photos.."
 
Moving pictures.

"Yes. I'm pretty sure Pussy Galore was a Bond girl, but I'm thinking something like . . . 'Bella Da Ballz' would be more appropriate for a vixen like you."

I love how your tits re-shape themselves, first when you sit up, and then when you lie back . . your body is so hot. And my body loves how your eyes are drinking me in.

"Back to my point...," you say, "a) do you wanna fuck? and b) do you want to make me your slut using more than just still photos...?"

The arch of your eyebrow lets me know that you're feeling especially frisky about this idea . . . my camera does capture video, after all . . . and if this porn idea makes you as horny as it makes me, and I'm pretty sure it does, then maybe you're gonna be willing to push yourself to the edge for this . . .

"I love this idea," I say. Then, still holding my camera, I walk naked over to the balcony doors. I open them, beckon you to join me, and then step out to see our view of the city and the neighbors.

Your feet soon pat on the patio, and you're standing at the railing beside me. I make a sweeping gesture toward the world out there and say, "You be the location scout. I'll be the cinematographer. We'll both be the stars."

I feel a grumble from my stomach, and quickly add, "My only demand is that the location be a restaurant of some kind . . . I'm fuckin' hungry!"

When was the last time I ate? I can't remember . . .

I look over to you, and you seem to be thinking deeply as you look out at the vista in front of us.

. . . have I pushed her too far, or did she secretly like our subway fuck yesterday? *-_--WHOA--_-* We fucked in the subway yesterday! But what happened after that? . . . .

--
 
Grabbing the Bull by the Horns

"My only demand is that the location be a restaurant of some kind . . . I'm fuckin' hungry!"

I nod my head as I hear what you've said, turning to look at you as I do. "Food sounds like an awesome idea and perhaps an interesting location for another encounter. Though I feel the sensible part of me needing to remind you that I can't get a conviction for public lewdity or nudity or anything remotely bad."

I grin as I turn from the railing and step back in closer to your body, running my fingertips over the strap of the camera and over its surface. I look up into your eyes as I caress your camera as if it was your body and whisper "So I'm forgiven for yesterday?"

I figure I might as well take the bull by the horns and just put it out there. I'm still not entirely sure you've remembered what happened yesterday and I might as well start the day with a clean slate.

I search your face, wondering if you'll remember what I'm referring to or if you did indeed have the concussion I was worried about and can't remember it at all. Which leads me to the dilemma of how much to reveal to you.

Do I tell you about my silly over reaction and our subsequent parting of ways?

Do I tell you about my clumsy seduction attempt that left you knocked out cold?

I begin to nibble on my lip as I nervously wait for your reply, am I going to spent the day fucking you in all sorts of interesting places or will I end up wondering what might have been.
 
"Food sounds like an awesome idea and perhaps an interesting location for another encounter." This is going to be amazing. My last full day in London, and I get to live out one of my all-time top fantasies with an incredibly hot woman . . . how do things like this even happen?

Though I feel the sensible part of me needing to remind you that I can't get a conviction for public lewdity or nudity or anything remotely bad." Right . . . hmmmm . . .

"How about we don't get caught then?" I say playfully, as you finger my camera and smile at me. Well, you were smiling at me, at least.

OK, I can come up with a better plan than that. "Even better, how about we take it slow, and if it ever looks like we're even halfway-possibly-nearly-maybe going to have trouble, you say a code word that means 'I want everything to come to a full stop right now.' Hmmm . . . we'd have to think of a code word . . . . "

"So I'm forgiven for yesterday?" you say. That's your answer? What a weird answer! You give me an incredible blow job yesterday morning, and then . . . . let's see . . . oh, right, getting to fuck you in the shower and at the balcony railing. . . .that was amazing . . . . . and then, . . . .

. . . uh . . . . .


. . . . . and then you were laid-back enough to give me the freedom to go off on my own and take all those photos!

Forgiven?! For being the easiest person ever to get along with? Sure! Done!

"Absolutely, Susan. I forgive you for treating my cock like it's laced with cocaine. I forgive you for being so ridiculously hot that I can't keep my hands off you. I forgive you for coming up with fantastic ideas, like filming. 'Are you forgiven' . . . . that's hilarious . . . you really do get into the submissive thing sometimes don't you . ." /

/ a flash /

/ an emotion /

/ defiance! I won't have it! /

/ wanting to dominate completely - and people are watching /


I feel my pupils dilate and a moment of rage rushes through me - sexualized rage.

Where is this coming from?

I take a deep breath, and feel that weird flash of hunger for power subsiding. I do my best to recover, since I know you had to see it cross my face.

"Huh . . . I just had a really intense . . . . hunger pang . . . we'd better get going and get some food! What do you say? Code word? Good food? Awesome day?"

--
 
Code Words? Good Food? Not Just Yet.

I watch a range of emotions flow over your face and wonder which one you're going to settle with. Was that a flair of anger? Are you remembering the events of the day before? Shit.. I'm in trouble.

I shake my head as I consider it for a moment, thinking how close I came to screwing things up and ruining what could have been a great few days with you. Maybe more. Am I allowed to think more? What does it amtter now anyway?

"Huh . . . I just had a really intense . . . . hunger pang . . . we'd better get going and get some food! What do you say? Code word? Good food? Awesome day?"

As you speak I bite my lip, an automatic nervous reaction to what I think you're about to say. Only you don't? Does it mean you haven't remembered whats gone on? How badly did that knock on the head affect you?

I release my lip and look up at you, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "You know what Ed? Good food and an awesome day sound fantastic to me. But there is something you need to remember first. Otherwise I'm going to feel like a liar all day."

I move back into the room, thinking that naked on a balcony isn't really the best place for this conversation. Picking up the robe I'd had on the night before I sit on the edge of the bed and look at you as you follow me into the room.

I take another big breath and just let it all flow out..

"You pushed my limits on the tube yesterday. I adored being fucked by you and the teasing that led up to it but you should have realised by now that I am absolutely not interested in your cock being anywhere near my ass.. yet you almost took me that way on the tube.. the fucking tube?!"

I can feel the anger I felt in that moment starting to resurface and I'm feeling a little less apologetic. You knew I didn't want your cock in my ass yet you threatened to do it and damn well almost did. What an asshole. Excuse the pun.

"Then you fucked me and you had your orgasm but didn't let me have mine. You left me dying to come and close to begging for it but didn't give it to me." I scowl at you as I cross my arms over my chest "And maybe it was a little childish to leave you at the foot of the stairs when I took off out of the tube but you could have followed me if you wanted to!"

I take another breath, I need to calm down and stop potentially overreacting. "So then you disappeared and I didn't know where you were and the more I thought about it the more I realised I didn't want to be seperated from you. Not only are you an amazing fuck but there seems to be this spark between us I'm not sure I've felt in a long time, if ever.."

"So I came back here, intent on seducing you or apologising to you or something.. making it right at least. I stripped off and left a trail of my clothes going to the bathroom while I took a long soak. You came home and tripped on my clothes II think and knocked yourself out. Cold. I think you might have even had a concussion." I look at your head, wondering if there is a lump on there still.

I blush brightly at the memory of you lying on the floor and my failed attempt at seduction. "So I got you in bed and somehow you still wanted a blow job. So I gave you one coz we both know I can't possibly say no to that. And you woke up this morning acting like everything is okay. And maybe I could have let you go on thinking that and fucked you here, there and everywhere..."

I pause, taking yet another breath. Am I close to hyperventilating? Shit, calm down Susan. "But its not okay , not really. So before I can agree to code words, good food and an awesome day we need to sort this out."

I finally find the courage to look up at you and see what your reaction to all I've said is. I can't quite read what you're thinking so I decide that I'll cut my losses and go over to my bag, quietly getting out clothing and beginning to put it on.
 
Code Word: Arsenal

I'm so raring to go . . . between your great ideas about filming, your incredibly hot body, and my desire for you and food it's obvious this is going to be an amazing day.

"You know what Ed . . . there is something you need to remember first. Otherwise I'm going to feel like a liar all day."

With a deadly serious look on your face, you leave me on the balcony. Liar?! Shit, she's married. Here it comes.

You put on your robe. Yep, closing yourself off to me. Maybe late-stage cancer and she's only got a few days left.

With a huge breath you start talking about teasing and tasting and fucking and loving it . . . oh, except anal . . . right, she might not have known that I was just messing around . . . it was just so fucking hot to own her like that -- putting her in a position where she truly had no choice. And in public. God, we've got to get out there in the world and play some more!

"Sue, I wouldn't --"

But you keep talking, clearly you've got a lot on your mind and you're getting pretty heated up about it. I decide to listen, until you talk about my decision to leave you hanging without an orgasm . . . you had directly defied my orders! That's not how this game is played!

I try to interrupt, "Hey, war is h--"

"So then you disappeared and I didn't know where you were and the more I thought about it the more I realised I didn't want to be separated from you. Not only are you an amazing fuck but there seems to be this spark between us I'm not sure I've felt in a long time, if ever.."

Wow, this is getting serious. Not only are you admitting deeper feelings when we've only known each other for the blink of an eye, but you go on about how I might have a concussion because you had to break into my hotel room and you left your shit on the floor?!

I feel my head, and there's a bump. She's not kidding . . . I might need to get scanned for an injury. God, I wish we didn't start this conversation horny . . . now I'm having images of trying to pull off having sex in the waiting room.

And it doesn't help that you're talking about blow jobs now!

"And maybe I could have let you go on thinking that and fucked you here, there and everywhere..."

"Susan . . " Hmmm . . . how do I say this . . . . "shit happens." Could have done better, maybe. "That's one hell of a story, and from the bump on my head and the look on your face, I'm assuming it's true. So let's go get my head checked out, especially since other girlfriends I've had said that I should do that, and then we'll take it from there.

"You did your best, and I'm still alive so it must have been good enough. Let's get a bite to eat, and then get this head-scan thing handled. It's cool."

It is cool, isn't it? Let's hope it is. You start to put on clothes, but I'm a bit lost in thought . . . what if I've lost something important in my memory or my skills or my identity . . . . all of a sudden, the future seems uncertain.

I look down and see that you've got your clothes on . . . guess I'd better get dressed . . .

--
 
Time to Bridge a Gap

I pause getting dressed, standing there in just electric blue lace boyshorts with a matching bra with my sundress hanging from my hand.

"That's one hell of a story, and from the bump on my head and the look on your face, I'm assuming it's true. So let's go get my head checked out, especially since other girlfriends I've had said that I should do that, and then we'll take it from there."

"You did your best, and I'm still alive so it must have been good enough. Let's get a bite to eat, and then get this head-scan thing handled. It's cool."


Turning to face you I feel a smile slowly come to my lips and before I know it, its blossomed into a full on grin.

I take a step closer to you, biting my lip nervously now, because that grin my just have been a little presumptuous. "Seriously? You don't want to have me arrested for grievous bodily harm? Don't want to kick me out of your room?"

I take one more step closer to you, hands falling to my sides as I look you over "You still want to fuck here, there and everywhere?"

I glance down at your crotch, feeling that same feeling of warm arousal beginning to flow over my body. "Still want to make movies? Fuck in unusual places?"

My nipples harden and press through my bra until the lace and satin feels like its caressing my skin and that warmth I feel spreading over me seems to increase.

I let my dress drop to the floor and close the distance between us, resting my palms on the warmth of your skin as I whisper "Coz if you're still okay with this Ed, I think we should order room service for breakfast and stay in.. just a little longer."

My teeth find my lip once more as I nibble nervously, hoping you're understanding that I'm trying to bridge the gap between us.
 
Order Up!

You seem pleased with my reply.

So pleased that you're edging your way toward me, looking to follow through on our plans for frolicking, fucking, and filming.

And apparently you want to get started right away. Nice.

As your dress hits the floor, I push you backwards onto the bed (goddam, those boy shorts make your body look even hotter).

"You really are a cockslut, aren't you . . . ," I say with a smile when you grab for my hips as I climb onto the bed over you. Pulling me to your mouth, you immediately begin sucking on my hardening cock. You murmer something through your full mouth, and I can only assume it was something like "Yep. World class." No matter what you're saying, the vibrations along the length of my cock are just amazing.

To reward you for your incredible skills, I reach back, slip my hand inside those boy shorts, and begin to toy with your clit as you continue sucking me off furiously. Your moans vibrate along my shaft even more, and soon we're both bucking our hips -- you driving my fingers deep inside your wet cunt, and me driving my cock as deep down your throat as I can fit.

Approaching the point of no return, I pull out of your mouth and take a quick detour. I slide one leg off the side of the bed so I can reach the bed-side table and grab the room service menu. Opening it up to the breakfast page, I lay it on the pillows at the top of the bed. "On your hands & knees," I command as I catch your questioning look. You respond, after a moment's hesitation, beginning to get a sense of where we're headed.

I give you the handset of the phone, kneel onto the bed behind you, slide those panties off your hot ass, and place the tip of my cock at the entrance to that sweet cunt of yours which is just begging for me to fill it.

"Dial." You reach to hit the Room Service button on the phone, and I lean in to match your reach and slide about a quarter of the way in. "Repeat after me." I slide deeper another quarter length in, and I can feel my cock pulsing inside you, aching to spear all the way in and slam into you.

I hear the woman answer on the other end, so I say, "Yes hello." -- "Yes hello."

"I'd like to order breakfast." -- "I'd like to order breakfast."

"First, I want some fuckin' sausage." I hear the slightest hesitation in your voice, then -- "First, I want some sausage."

I start to slide out of you, disappointed at your obvious disobedience, but you slam your ass backward into my hips, saying, "fuckin' sausage! I want some fuckin' sausage!

"That's better," I say as I put my hands on your hips, holding you steady. "And I want that sausage on toast, smothered in cream gravy." -- "and I want that sausage on toast," I start ramming my cock inside your cunt repeatedly now. " . . smothered in . . oh, fuck yes . . in cream gravy, oh god."

"Good. Now order something that I'll want to eat, and some orange juice." I listen as you try to find something on the menu, and fumble out the order between moans . . I'm a bit distracted, but I think you might have gotten me a veggie omelet.

"And you."

You hesitate.

Then you try to comply, but you can't quite get it out.

-- "And y... what?!"

"And I want you. Say it." -- "And I want . . you. Now, goddamit. I want you so fuckin' bad, and I want you right now."

Oh, you deserve a big reward for taking it further like that. You are so fucking hot. The woman on the other end says something I can't hear, and then you hang up by saying, ". . . fuck yes . . thank you . . . "

As the phone tumbles out of your hand, you reach both arms forward to brace against the headboard, and start fucking me in earnest . . pushing back off the wood to force me deeper inside you as your ass slams into my abs over and over again.

"Yes, that's it. Keep fucking me."

--
 
Breakfast is Served..

I pick up the phone and dial the room service number, knowing what you're intending and swinging between feeling mortified about what I'm about to do and so turned on I think I could explode right now. I manage to repeat most of what you're saying to me, releasing that the more I say, the less polite I'm being, the less professional the woman on the other end of the phone is too and the more I'm getting fucked by you.

Shes obviously figured out whats happening, can hear the breathless catch in my voice and your voice barking orders in the background. I hear her breathing coming a little heavier, the husky tone to her voice. "Fuckin' sausage! I want some fuckin' sausage!" I say as you slam into me, giving into the need to beg you for more. I hear her moan softly, hear the almost deafening silence of her waiting expectantly for more to happen.

You slam your cock deep inside me as I manage to repeat " . . smothered in . . oh, fuck yes . . in cream gravy, oh god." She moans once more and softly says "Take that cock, you naughty slut." I blush as I hear her speaking but carry on fumbling out your order and mine, between moans and gasps and breathless sighs.

Shes obviously getting turned on listening to us, I can hear her breathing coming faster as she silently takes my order and seems to be listening intently to what I'm saying and the sounds of you fucking me. You tell me I need to ask for her and I hesitate. I don't want to share you with anyone. I'm adult enough to admit I'm possessive and the thought of sharing your cock with someone else has me wanting to scratch her eyes out. But a little part of me, the obedient part takes over, not to mention the part that is dying for you to carry on fucking me like this.

"And I want . . you. Now, goddamit. I want you so fuckin' bad, and I want you right now." My words come tumbling out and I hear her sharp intake of breath and the moan that instantly follows. Its quiet a moment, as if she is deciding whether or not she'll speak, then she does.. "You're a naughty slut, a dirty whore and if I can, I'll deliver your order and make you come as well.."

I moan with her words as I hang up the phone, tossing it to the side after a hurried ". . . fuck yes . . thank you . . . "

"Yes, that's it. Keep fucking me." You say.

Do you really think I'm about to stop anytime soon? I grip the headboard so tightly I can see my knuckles going white. I need this, am desperate to orgasm and more than anything I want to do that with your gorgeous cock deep inside me.

I'd never known how much I like being bossed around until I met you. I guess there was a submissive little slut just waiting to come out, when she met the right kind of master.

I take one of my hands off the headboard and move it down between my legs. I rub my finger over my clit and slide my hand down to caress over your shaft and balls as well. They're slick with my juices, slippery and wet as my hand moves to tease us both.

"I want your come, fuck I want your come. I want you to fill me up so I spend the day walking around with it dripping out of me. I want to be your whore.. your slut.. want to carry on being your cock slut wherever you want me to. Just don't freak me out.." I add as an after thought, thinking back to the day yesterday.

My words seem to spur you into action because suddenly you're fucking me harder than before. So hard my head almost hits the headboard but I don't care, I want this, need this. "Keep fucking me.. don't stop.." I guess its not such a silly thing to say afterall, not when you're this far gone, so desperate for the fucking to continue you'd do anything to make sure it did.

I feel your hands grip my hips, fingers digging into my skin as with an animalistic grunt you orgasm. You hold my hips in place, stopping me from moving as you fill my eager cunt with your come. Covering my inner walls with your seed. My orgasm shatters through me moments after yours does and each internal spasm seems to milk just a little bit more out of you. My pussy is almost sore from the tight clenching but the pleasure spreading over my body soothes any pain I might be feeling.

You grow still, pulling me to lie on our sides on the bed with you still impaled deep inside me. I rub my bottom against you, still feeling an occasional spasm of pleasure as I whisper "Fuck.. can we do that again?" My hands bring yours up to cup my breasts, making you envelope me in a bear hug of sorts but really I want to continue to bathe in the afterglow of a damn good fuck.

I hear the knock at the door and turn my head to brush my lips over yours, reluctant to leave you but also realising this could be an opportunity to tease someone besides you. I'm also wondering if maybe, just maybe, the woman from the phone might have decided to being us our order personally. I slip off the bed and pad naked to the door, our juices sliding out of me to make a mess of my thighs as I do.

I pull open the door with what I hope is an innocent smile, resting my hip against it as I hold it open. I'm slightly disappointed its not the woman but even better, its a young man who's eyes almost pop out of his head. The bell boy does his best to ignore my nakedness as I reach for the trolley of food. "Oh.. it won't move?" I pretend as I look to it puzzled then up at him.

I deliberately turn my back to him, widening my stance a little and bending down to play with the wheels of the cart. There are no brakes on it, the bell boy and I both know it. But right now he has an up close view of my freshly fucked cunt and he doesn't seem to be complaining about it at all. I take a step back, still bent over and examine the other wheel. This time my ass is pressed tightly against his crotch and I feel the tell tale twitch of a hard cock wanting to escape. I look up at you with a grin as I straighten and now try to move the trolley. Not surprisingly it moves and I turn to look at the bell boy who's hands are clenched in fists at his sides "Thank you.."

I step forward and wheel the cart into the room, pausing a few steps away with the young man still in the doorway. I lift the covers off the food and run my finger through the gravy on your plate, bringing my finger to my mouth and sucking it more than is necessary "Hmm.. creamy." I wink at him as I run the same finger down my chest, around a nipple and over my stomach. My index finger disappears between my thighs and I'm obviously fingering myself as my hand moves in and out. I lift my hand once more and gaze at the bell boy "Hmm.. creamier still." I bring my finger to my mouth once more, fucking it in and out as I step forward and close the door with a barely muffled giggle.

I turn and move back to the trolley, a teasing smile playing over my lips. "Breakfast is served Master.." I tease with a grin as I walk the trolley over to the bed.
 
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Banger for Breakfast

Exhausted and elated from the intensity of my orgasm, I'm swimming in the bliss of feeling the softness of your skin and the firmness of your ass against me. You pull my hands up to your breasts, and we lay cradling each other . . . adrift in post-fuck euphoria.

I'm not sure how long we laid like that, I just know that our bodies were breathing at the same rate, and everything was right with the world for that brief time.

Then came the knock at the door. My cock had retracted during our rest, so only an inch or so slid out of you as you bounced off the bed to answer. I watched with disbelief at the movement of your gorgeous body . . how did I ever happen to find this angel-cock-slut with a sinful, heavenly body?

I pull a corner of the sheets across my mid-section, then look up with shock to see that you have boldly opened the door without stopping to grab your coat! I'm so proud of my cock-slut-angel at that moment. You know exactly how to turn me on . . . being strong and sexy and exhibitionistic . . . and being mine.

The bell boy seemed really happy to be delivering to a naked woman, though I imagine that wasn't a first for him. What had to be a first was that this naked woman was extremely hot, wet-thighed with fresh cum and pussy juice, and bending down in front of him and rubbing against his pants.

I chuckle inside as it occurs to me that you have no money to tip him . . . and that he couldn't care less.

You seem to be inspecting the food, but then I hear you say, "Hmm.. creamy," and then I see your stance widen and your hand appears between your legs, dipping deep into your wet cunt, giving the boy a real show. My cock is raging hard with the intense desire to lean you over that food cart and fuck you right in front of the bell boy. You are amazing.

How does one woman have it in her to be a teacher / barrista and be such an incredible vixen?!

Before I have a chance to take action on my urge, you're pushing the door shut in the face of a disappointed bell boy. How many minutes will it take before the entire bell staff hears this story? They'll be scrambling to volunteer, if we require any deliveries later.

"Breakfast is served Master," you say as that signature sexy grin of yours dawns across your face.

Your eyes glance at the sheets, tenting around my hard cock.

"Bring that plate of bangers over here," I say, pulling the sheet aside. You pick up the plate, carry it to the bed, and then follow my cues to climb astride me as you slide your knees onto the bed and straddle me.

"Show me how you'd suck off that bell boy while you ride me."

My cock is positioned right at the entrance of your amazing pussy, barely parting your outer lips. You wiggle me into place with one hand while the other picks up a banger. You make a show of getting the gravy off one end, before you start to tongue-tease it. My cock is twitching with urgency, pressing against the top of your outer wall.

Then I moan with pleasure as you slide me and the banger into your two holes at the same speed. Deep-throating the sausage, pulling me in to the hilt. I feel myself twitch again, the curve of my cock pushing upward along the full length of your hot, wet insides. God, your body is incredible.

You continue the slow teasing of both of these cocks, sliding one way and the other . . back and forth . . licking and wiggling . . penetrating and clamping and retreating again. The contrast from our urgent fucking moments ago is delicious.

I may well have found the single best cock-lover in the world.

"You're amazing, Pet. You've got my permission to pleasure yourself however you want with my cock or with our breakfast food here . . just don't come until I tell you to. Understood?"

--
 
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