Friday, April 3, 2015

Satellite Installation byroddymac99©

Mickey looked at the job card in his hand. "So, it's a two room set up yes? Which rooms exactly?"

The middle-aged lady nodded. "The lounge, just through there," she answered, pointing to the door across the hallway "and in my daughter's room, upstairs, first room on the right. I need to get to work but Amy is in her room and if you need anything just shout her. Do you need anything more from me?"

Mickey shook his head. "No, should be fine. Seems like a nice easy job to start the week" he smiled. He picked up his tool case and walked to the lounge. "By the time you get home, you'll have your great satellite TV up and running. Maybe even treat yourself to a nice bottle of wine and a movie tonight Mrs Renshaw."

"Great" she replied, smiling. "I've been meaning to get satellite for ages. Probably won't see much of Amy once she has it in her room but that might be a good thing!" She picked up her bag and keys and headed to the door. "Bye then."

Mickey nodded, waited until she had left then went into the lounge. He was in a good mood. This would be a simple install and he didn't have another appointment until nearly lunchtime so he'd have time to stop off at the nearby shopping centre and have a browse at the new sports shop. He started to unpack the equipment, laying out everything he needed in the methodical fashion he followed for such jobs. His mind wandered to the sports shop. His girlfriend hated the fact he was sports mad and she seemed determined to curtail his passion for football. Maybe a new team shirt would be a devious thing to buy, he grinned to himself.

He was 28, and had played football for over twenty years. Not professionally, or indeed even to a high amateur status, but he loved playing for his local team; the training, the games, the team spirit. Becky wasn't so keen though. He sighed, knowing in his heart that engagement probably wasn't that far off, marriage thereafter...god, even kids perhaps. He could see his football time diminishing before his eyes.

They had been together five years now. It had been fun, no question. But it was getting serious now. He sighed again; maybe this was just how things went.

"Oh well, on with the job" he muttered to himself. The door behind him opened and he turned to see a young girl smiling at him.

"Hey there" she said.

"Oh, hi," he replied, smiling out of politeness and also at the attractiveness of the girl. She was about 5'5" with long, auburn hair that fell over her shoulders. She was wearing jeans and a white tank top that showed off her slender bare arms. He figured she was about 18. "You must be...ummm...Amy yeh?" he asked. She nodded. "So, you are getting satellite in your room huh? Lucky girl."

Amy grinned. "Yeh, been begging for it for, like, ages" she giggled.

Mickey smiled. "Well, I need to go outside now and put up the dish, then I'll do this room and then yours. Within an hour you'll have all the channels you'll ever need."

"Awesome," she replied, beaming a smile. "I'll be upstairs if you need anything."

Mickey nodded. Amy grinned, she bit her lip subtly, flashed him a smile then turned and left the room. He couldn't help but stare at her tight, firm bum, his mind instantly recalling that Becky used to have a bum like that. It was only then he saw the mirror on the other side of the hall and that Amy was grinning at his reflection. He blinked, realised he'd been caught, then quickly turned away to pick up his equipment bag, feeling sheepish and embarrassed.

It took him half an hour to connect the dish to the side of the house. The cabling went without a problem and within another fifteen minutes he'd set up the box in the lounge, tested it and satisfied himself all was working. He prided himself on his professionalism, and was pleased how neat the job was. He gathered his bag and started up the stairs. He wondered if the pretty girl would stay in the room while he connected it, and couldn't help smile at the prospect. Perk of the job he surmised.

He reached the landing, and stepped towards the first door on the right. It was closed, but he could hear music playing. His hands were full with his kit bag and the box for the room, so he pressed against the door, balanced the box on his knee and tapped the door. There was no response so he pushed down the handle and with his foot pushed the door open. "Hey there, it's me" he announced loudly, shifting to get the box back properly into his hands before stepping forward. As he looked up, his eyes widened and he felt his jaw drop in shock.

Amy had turned to face him, her hands covering her naked breasts. Mickey blinked. He saw the white tank top on the floor by his feet. Amy was a few metres beyond him, at the edge of her bed.

"Oh god, sorry" she exclaimed "I...I didn't hear you knock."

"I...I did" he protested, feeling his cheeks redden. "I...I didn't realise you were...you were..." he nodded towards her.

She grinned. "Didn't realise I was getting changed?" she finished his sentence. She giggled. "Bad timing huh?"

Mickey nodded. He realised he was staring at her chest. Her breasts were small enough that her hands covered them, but it was clear they were firm and round. As he lowered his eyes, he took in her slim figure; her just visible rib cage, her tight midriff. He was just thankful she had her jeans on.

"I...I'm really sorry" he mumbled, shuffling his feet. "I'll give you a minute." He looked back at her and tried to compose himself. "I should have shouted or something" he added, forcing a smile to try and diffuse this very uncomfortable situation. He turned to leave the room, but in his hurry felt the box slipping from his grasp. He cursed as he lost his hold on it, clumsily tried to rescue it but proceeded in juggling it with one hand. He let his bag drop and then used his now free left hand to try and hold the box, but fumbled it and then found himself on his knees preventing the expensive box from crashing to the ground.

Amy laughed. "Whoa...you ok there?" she giggled. Mickey looked up at her from his knees, feeling his cheeks flush. "I...yes, yes I'm fine" he stuttered, astonished at how this situation was turning him into a fumbling, mumbling idiot. "I really shouldn't, ummm...try to carry so much," he added, in a tone that to his own ears sounded slightly pathetic.

Amy giggled again. "I'm sorry, you probably weren't expecting me to half undressed huh?"

Mickey looked at her. "Well, no, I certainly wasn't."

She grinned. "You must see all sorts, being in and out of people's houses though, huh?"

Mickey shrugged. "Well, I guess, but never young girls without...ummm...you know...no top on." He knew he must be blushing bright red.

Amy bit her lip. "Oh...just desperate housewives then?" she giggled. Mickey found himself chuckle. He realised he was shocked not just by the fact she was topless, albeit still covering herself with her hands, but that she seemed totally unfazed by the situation.

"Well, to be honest, not really" she replied.

Amy frowned. "Really? I'd have thought bored housewives would love having a fit bloke like you in their house," she said, matter-of-factly.

Mickey grinned. "Fit bloke? That's...ummm...very kind of you." He was shocked by her confidence. He realised he was still on his knees, so he started to raise himself up, holding the box in both hands. He smiled; after all, it was good to think that a teen girl still thought he was attractive. He wondered how he could subtly let Becky know he'd been complimented as such.

He rose to his full height, feeling himself start to relax. Amy was clearly unruffled by the situation, so why should he be? It had been an honest mistake, barging into her room. He would now just gather his things, wait until she was dressed then get on with the job, maybe banking the picture of Amy in his mind for a 'quiet' moment later, and of course be satisfied that he was regarded as 'fit.' He could feel his heart thumping, and a strange nervous twinge in his stomach, but he took a breath as he started to relax. What happened next shocked him to the core though.

Amy stretched out her arms, uncovering her firm 34B breasts. "Want me to take that box, save you from dropping it again?" she said.

Mickey's jaw dropped again. He couldn't help but stare at her naked breasts. "I...ummm...you...I mean...fuck..." was all he could mutter. Amy grinned, her arms still outstretched.

Mickey shuffled his feet, hearing nothing but his heartbeat thumping. "Dont...dont you want...I mean, shouldn't you...you know...c...cover yourself up?" he mumbled, averting his gaze.

"Oh, sorry," she replied, giggling. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" Mickey raised his eyes, concentrating hard on looking at her face, and her face only.

"Well...just...a little" he replied, fully aware he was feeling very uncomfortable. "Aren't...you?" he asked, honestly shocked at how brazen she was being.

Amy shrugged "ummm...not really. You've seen a pair of tits before haven't you?"

Mickey gulped. "Well, of course, but not...you know...like...certainly not a...a young girl like you. Well, not since I was your age anyway."

She laughed. "You haven't seen a pair of tits since you were 18?" she quizzed.

Mickey blinked. "No, that's not what I meant" he retorted. "I mean, I've seen ti...boo...breasts" he stuttered. "My girlfriends," he added meekly.

Amy giggled again. "You're not married then?"

Mickey shook his head. She seemed so cool, so confident. She still had her arms outstretched. Again, he found his gaze was on her breasts. He blinked again. Then inhaled sharply as Amy took a step forward and gently took the box from his hands. She held it at her midriff; her breasts still in plain view, less than a metre in front of him. "How old are you?" she asked.

Mickey took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "What? Oh, I'm 28," he replied.

Amy nodded. "And your girlfriend? How old is she?"

Mickey swallowed, though his mouth was bone dry. "Umm..she's 29. Why do you ask?"

Amy shrugged. "Has she got nice tits?"

Mickey frowned. "Well, I..I guess."

Amy furled her brow, looking at him inquisitively. "You guess?" she quizzed. "She either has or hasn't."

Mickey shook his head "OK, well, yes, she has great...ummmm..."

"Tits," Amy completed his sentence, emphasising the word. "Are they big?"

Mickey blinked again. His mind reeled. Was she really asking him about Becky's tits? He answered her honestly. "Well, yes, they are pretty big. Why, why do you ask?"

Amy shrugged again "No reason." She frowned. "I think mine are a bit small, don't you think?"

Mickey looked at her. She had a genuine expression on her face. He looked at her breasts. They were firm, with small aureolas and pert nipples. He felt himself inhale, then realised his cock was beginning to harden. He swallowed again.

"I...well...no...not really...they look...ummmm fine." Amy frowned. "I mean, amazing...really, they look amazing." He took another deep breath.

Amy smiled, "awww thanks" she said cheerily, then turned and put the box down on her bed.

Mickey found himself looking at her pert bum as she bent over and he shifted uncomfortably as he felt his cock continue to stiffen. "How big are your girlfriends?" she continued, straightening up and turning back to face him. "What size are they?" She had such a genuinely inquisitive expression he couldn't help but answer honestly.

"Ummm, 36C" he answered, averting his gaze again.

"Big" she said "You like big tits then?"

Mickey felt his stomach tingle nervously at her questions. "Well...I suppose so" he answered "but..." he ran his hand through his hair, "look, I really need to get on with this job so..."

Amy looked at him, she bit her lip "So?"

Mickey cleared his throat. "So, maybe you should...you know...cover up and I'll get on with installing your satellite box."

Amy looked at him. Her eyes narrowed. "I was actually getting changed" she said. Her hands moved to the top button of her jeans. Mickey felt everything go into slow motion, and before he could protest, she undid the button.

"W...what are you doing?" he stuttered.

Amy stared straight at him as her hands undid the remaining two buttons. "I'm getting on with getting changed" she grinned, before sliding the jeans down off her hips.

Mickey gasped. His eyes widened as he watched her pull her jeans down, revealing her slender hips, firm, slender thighs then, to his further shock as he realised she wasn't wearing panties and failed to avert his gaze, her perfectly smooth mound. He felt his cock instantly harden. In a fluid movement, she bent down and pulled her jeans off, stepping aside and straightening to stand fully naked in front of him.

Mickey couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Oh fuck" was all he could mutter. Her body was amazing. She was so slim; almost skinny. His eyes took in her lightly tanned, tight skin and the perfect gap at the top of her thighs. He shifted his stance. "Ummm...I...really...work...to do" he mumbled, rooted to the spot.

Amy grinned, and took the two short steps to stand directly in front of him. Her hands suddenly reached out and she placed them on his belt.

"W...what are you doing?" he stammered, feeling his body tensing. She ignored him, and he felt her unbuckling his belt. "Look...I...I've got a girlfriend" he protested, willing himself to take a step backwards.

"So you've said," she grinned, her hands quickly unbuckling the belt and moving to his top button of his trousers. "With massive tits," she added.

Mickey groaned. He wiped his hand across his dry lips and shuffled backwards. Amy frowned. "Oh, is that it? Are my tits not big enough for you?"

Mickey shook his head. "God no" he blurted out. "I mean, no...listen...fuck...you...you are...seriously...well...wow." He winced, realising he probably sounded very lame. "It's just...this..well, this is very...ummm...inappropriate." Lame. "You...you're 18...and...I'm...well, ten years older than you...and...you...you're mum is my customer...and I've got a girlfriend."

Amy just grinned at him as he rambled. "Am I making you really uncomfortable?" she asked.

Mickey nodded.

She shuffled forwards and her hands quickly undid his trouser button before slipping down to the zip. "Am I making you...ummm...hard?" she continued, her voice a whisper.

Mickey gulped. He was fully erect, which she instantly discovered as he felt his zip fully open and her little hand press against the bulge in his boxer shorts. "Oooooh, I am making you hard," she giggled.

Mickey closed his eyes. This was unbelievable. He couldn't believe the situation he was in. He'd been doing this job for five years and never come close to anything like this. In his personal life, he'd never come close to a situation like this. He pictured Becky. That would bring him to his senses. He pictured her face, feeling it would give him the strength to take control, break away from this brazen young girl, politely and maturely sort it out. But the picture of Becky was of her scowling face, the one that went with her demands for him to give up his football, the moaning voice that instructed him not to spend so much time with footy mates.

He gasped as he felt Amy tugging down his boxers shorts, feeling his erect cock springing free. He heard her little giggle as her hand grasped his cock and he heard his own groan as she gently started to stroke it. He opened his eyes and looked down. His cock wasn't huge, maybe six inches fully erect and about an inch and a half in diameter, but it looked big in Amy's little hand.

"This...shouldn't be happening" he said, trying to convince himself to pull himself away.

Amy grinned, then to his further surprise, squatted down. "So tell me to stop," she smiled, looking up at him as he watched his cock being pulled into her open mouth. He groaned as he felt her lips clasp around his shaft. He inhaled sharply as her hand pulled his foreskin back and he felt her tongue flick against his cock head. "Ohhhhh fuckkkkkkk" he exclaimed, knowing he couldn't tell her to stop.

She started to slowly bob her head, her warm mouth gradually engulfing his cock. He realised he was tense; his stomach was churning. She kept moving her mouth up and down his shaft, her hand firmly gripping the base of his cock and tugging gently, her tongue pressed against his head. She started to suck and he involuntarily let out a low moan as the sensation and realisation of the blowjob took over him. He pictured Becky again, that scowling face when he begged her for a blowjob and she refused; the look of disgust on her face on the odd occasion she did treat him and he came in her mouth. He realised he was rocking his hips and he looked down to see that most of his cock was inside Amy's mouth. It felt amazing, and he moaned again "ohhh fuck that's awesome" he gasped, and he saw a small smile curl on the edge of her lips.

He looked away from her, conscious that the vision of this teen girl was so incredible it might take him over the edge. His gaze fell on the full length mirror at the side of her room, and he found himself staring at the reflection of Amy squatted in front of him, hand wanking his cock in her mouth, auburn hair falling over her slender shoulders, those beautiful firm tits, tight stomach, those firm slim legs. Her body was amazing, so firm, so tight, so young. He heard her gag as she took too much of him in her mouth, feeling his cock head touch the back of her throat. He realised he was rocking his hips more vigourously. Her hand was gripping tighter, wanking him rapidly, her head bobbing in time, her cheeks contracting as she sucked him.

"Ohhhh shit," he gasped as he took it all in. 'Don't think about it' he told himself, but still he stared at the mirror. "Oh fuck that's amazing" he groaned. Amy's free hand suddenly clasped his ball sac. He gasped, and as he looked down her eyes met his, sparkling with what he read as naughtiness...that little smile on her lips. Suddenly, he realised he was about to climax.

He groaned, knowing he should pull free, but her mouth was locked on his cock. His brain was scrambled. She'd surely be unimpressed at him cumming so quickly. She was naked...he realised she probably wanted more...she maybe wanted him to fuck her! That thought sent a shockwave through him...oh my god...she wants me to fuck her. 'This little seventeen year old babe wants me to fuck her' he thought. 'And shit...I'm going to cum now.'

Mickey felt his body tense "Shiiit..." he gasped "I...I'm going to cum!" He tried to pull himself free but Amy had a firm grip with her hand and mouth. He looked down at her, and she looked straight back up at him. "Seriously," he panted, "oh fuck...I'm going to cum." He felt himself tighten.

Amy kept her mouth over his cock for a moment longer, then just as he arched his back and released a guttural groan, she pull her head back, freeing his cock from her mouth. Her hand continued to tug on his shaft as Mickey groaned "fuuuuucccckkkkk" and a spurt of cum streaked over her face, a thin rope of sticky cum running from her forehead down over the bridge of her nose and across her lips. He shuddered again and another spurt landed on the top of her head and across her right eye, then another on her cheek. She moved closer and the final spurts of his orgasm landed on her chin and the top of her chest between her tits.

Mickey was panting furiously as she squeezed the final drops out, his cum dripping onto her thighs. "Wow...that was a lot" she giggled, before taking his cock back into her mouth to lick it clean.

Mickey felt like his head was going to explode. He hadn't cum that hard in ages, and Becky most certainly would not have let him spurt over her face. He took a step backwards, feeling his legs shaking as he looked at Amy, squatted in front of him with his cum in her hair, on her brow, eye, cheek, nose and chin. He could see some glistening on her chest and her thighs. "That...that was incredible" he said, wiping his face with his hand. "Fucking incredible. "
byroddymac99© 1 comments/ 13047 views/ 17 favorites

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Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Room Service bysecretLace©

The story is inspired by something I experienced myself. Working night hours at a classy hotel, I found a pair of sexy red panties hanging on door 146. They smelled wonderful, that mixed smell of feminine perfume and musk. They were still warm when I smelled them, and, fuelled by the mystique, I looked into the matter. A classy business woman had been living in that room for a long time. I saw her several times after this and even served wine to her as room service once. She had another woman there, and, though they acted professional, I sensed a tension in the air (perhaps imaginary). The other woman was also staying at the hotel, and they lingered in my imagination long enough to inspire this story.

I also would like to thank C Lakewood who has helped me smooth out the text and the story. Big thanks to you mate.

I would also like to point out that this is a repost since i posted this on another site back in 2005. But my screen name Kev was too generic and another author that called himself Kev ended up on my page. SecretLace is more attuned to my writing and my fetish so I thought I would find a home here on this fine site. 


*****

HOTEL CHRONICLES: ROOM SERVICE

by

Kev (SecretLace)


It was almost 3 PM. Ellie had stopped the cleaning trolley in order to stock up on fresh towels when something red caught her eye. The something was hanging on the door handle to room 146, and, as she came closer she could see it was a pair of what appeared to be red silk panties.

The room was located in a far end of the hotel so the corridor was empty as she approached the delicate garment. It felt so forbidden that she looked over her shoulder, as if she were a thief, before she reached out and picked them up. Still warm, she noted. She looked over her shoulder again as she held them to her face and inhaled. They smelled of feminine perfume, but with a faint scent of something more carnal. The silk caressed her cheek, sending shivers down her spine. The waistband was a lacy string with rose details, and the shiny material shone in the hallway lights.

Retreating back to the safety of her trolley, she went through the list of guests and found out that a Ms. Rebecca Winters was staying in room 146. She also noted that the woman would be at the hotel for another two weeks, probably a business traveler. It wasn't uncommon for guests to stay as long as a month, so she went back to her chores, putting the delicate panties in her breast pocket.

Later that afternoon, she was reminded of the curious incident. She was passing the reception desk as a raven haired woman was waiting there for service, pink nails drumming impatiently. The reception desk looked empty, so Ellie shyly asked if she could help. The woman looked down on the small Latina maid.

"Yes, I was told a gift was hanging on my door, but, when I arrived there a few minutes ago, I couldn't find anything hanging there. I wonder if one of the maids has picked it up."

It felt more like a statement than a question, and the emerald green eyes felt like lasers as they bored a hole in the now nervous maid. Ellie blushed involuntarily. The lacy knickers in her breast pocket felt hot as she tried to look innocent. The woman studied her for a second before the opened her blood red lips again.

"What is your name, poppet?" She didn't sound as arrogant as she had initially. A sweet but predatory smile spread across her lips, and Ellie felt her face heat up from the humiliation.

"Ellie," she answered softly.

"Thank you, sweetie," the woman said and then left. Ellie was confused. She had been certain that the woman knew of her theft and would tell the manager, but now she wasn't so sure. She stood there for several minutes while her mind worked in overdrive. Ms. Winters had been dressed in a classy black outfit and had looked very professional. But the image of her wearing something slutty like the fiery red panties in Ellie's pocket wouldn't go away. Who had put those sexy panties there...and why? Ms. Winters' expensive fragrance was still hanging in the air when the regular staff returned. Ellie excused herself and went on with her business, trying to leave the scene of the crime as soon as possible.

The following afternoon, she had changed into her pink nylon cleaning smock and was on her way out to start her shift when the supervising maid caught up with her. "A letter came for you this morning, Ellie," she said and gave the maid an envelope of what appeared to be the hotel stationary. Ellie just nodded and hurried on with her trolley. She waited until she reached the far end of the hotel before opening the letter.

It was written in a feminine handwriting and simply said, "Knock on my door at exactly 3 AM sharp. And wear the panties. They will look good on you, my little panty thief." At the bottom of the letter someone wearing pink lipstick had made a kiss-mark. The letter smelled of the same expensive perfume as the woman had worn the day before. Ellie was staggered by both fear and exaltation. She pulled the red garment from her pocket. The small piece of silky fabric looked inviting to the touch, and she found herself again inhaling the quintessence of womanhood. Even though there was no threat, she felt compelled to obey the letter.

It wasn't her night to work, but she knew she could switch with another maid who always wanted to go out with her boyfriend.

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

She slipped into the vacant room, locked the door behind her, and pulled the curtains, blocking out the light from city below. The digital clock by the bed read 2:37 AM, and, with trembling hands, she slowly undid the buttons of her smock, shrugged it off, and hung it over a chair.

Ellie stood in only her plain white underwear while studying the red panties. It felt so thin and tiny in her hand. Slowly she stepped out of her own panties and into the others. The lace tickled her as she slid the sexy garment up her bare legs. It settled snugly against her crotch, but felt uncomfortable due to her pubic hair that was now tangled in the lace and silk. She hesitated for a few seconds. It looked awful, and she knew that she had to shave before it would feel comfortable.

As if in a trance, she moved to the bathroom and found the little complimentary shaving kit she had replaced while cleaning the room earlier. She felt her nipples harden as she slid the silk down her legs again. Naked except for her bra, she sat down on the toilet. With nervous hands, she scissored the hair close, washed herself, and began shaving off her precious hair, watching it disappear, leaving a bald slit oozing with arousal. Several times during the process, she had to steady her trembling hand.

Impulsively, she removed the plain bra and caressed her hard nipples. She was immediately rewarded with a jolt of pleasure. Her clit ached for attention, but an accidental glance at her watch snapped her back to reality. Only 2 minutes to go! She stood up quickly and wiped herself before pulling the panties back up. Now they fit her like a second skin, constantly caressing her nude sex with the teasing lace. She buttoned up the smock and exited the room in a hurry. Room 146 was just a few doors down, so she had seconds to spare as she knocked on the door.

At first she heard nothing from inside and felt very awkward standing there in someone else's used panties. Why had she played along? The tingling arousal answered that question. For years, she had secretly dreamed of someone who took command of her and now her dreams were about to come true. At least she hoped so.

At last, the door opened slowly. Ms. Winters looked regal in her long, flowing robe. The yellow light from the hallway gave the ivory white silk robe a magic gleam. Her black hair was mysterious in the low light. "Come in," she purred and moved aside to let the petite Latina enter the warm room. Room 146 was rather large, two rooms and a spacious bath with a luxurious tub that had more knobs and dials than Ellie could count.

She stood hesitantly in the middle of the room and waited for the regal woman to say something. Several candles were already lit, bathing the room in a romantic glow. Ms. Winters circled the maid, studying every curve, before sitting down in the expensive sofa.

"Have you followed my instructions, little one?" she asked, sweetly. She uncrossed her legs, showing wonderfully white skin, as smooth as the silk she wore.

Ellie's mouth felt dry, so she just nodded, her gaze fixed on the beautiful woman's feet...delicate toes with pink polish that gleamed in a mesmerising way. "Well, don't just stand there, tiny, show me." The words both shocked the maid and aroused her.

After this there was no going back. She would be out of a job if anyone found out, so she nervously started to unbutton the smock. She felt very conscious of her own body as she revealed more and more of it to the stranger sitting in the sofa. She also got a kinky thrill in undressing in front of a stranger, a beautiful stranger. Strong tan lines framed her small breasts.

"How I love a girl without a bra. So naughty. So slutty."

Ellie blushed as Ms. Winters commented further on her body. "Those tan lines look wonderful on you, dear. But why go to the beach or tanning salon in a bikini and then go braless at work? The illusion of modesty?"
bysecretLace© 5 comments/ 6526 views/ 6 favorites

The Booty Call bydarkknight3663©

The phone rang, waking me from a deep sleep. "Hello?" I said, my voice barely a whisper.

"Im on my way. Be there in 20 minutes"

"Ok." I said, and hung up the phone. Wiping the sleep from eyes, I staggered to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

When I came out, I saw that I still had about five minutes, so I went out to the living room and plopped down on the couch, still nude, to watch TV. I fingered my pussy while I flipped the channels, figuring that would be the extent of my foreplay for the evening. I had actually gotten myself pretty wet by the time the special knock came.

Moving to the door, I opened it to reveal her standing there, wearing an open trench coat, a pair of heels and nothing else. I stared for a moment, drinking in all of her sexiness. "You gonna let me in or what?" she said, impatient as always.

Standing to one side, I welcomed her into my place. I had barely gotten the door closed before she was on me, my back pinned to the wall, her tongue invading my mouth. I returned the kiss with as much passion as I was receiving, only just then realizing how much I'd missed her touch over the past few days. Our rendezvous had become less frequent because of the commitments of her job and family, so I make sure I throw myself fully into every encounter we have. Tonight would be no different.

Pulling her closer to me, I enjoyed the feeling of her breasts pressed against me, the inner part of her thigh rubbing the outer part of mine and the strength of her hands as she gripped my ass. I felt one of her hands leave my butt and, knowing where it was going, I parted my legs to give her easy access. She moaned when she felt the heat from my wet pussy and released our kiss.

Using her tongue, she made a trail from my neck, down between my breasts, across my stomach, through my pubic hair, right to my clit. I jumped when she touched it, not realizing just how sensitive it was. Putting both my legs over her shoulders, she braced me against the wall, and went to work on my pussy.

She had been blessed with an extremely long tongue and had taken great care to learn how to use it well. First she slid it between my lips and I felt its roughness pass over clit and cunt, with the tip lightly touching my asshole. Back and forth she went, from clit to ass, with me riding her tongue to my first orgasm of the night.

Satisfied once again that she could still make me come faster then anyone in the world, she stuck her tongue as deep in my pussy as she could, until I could feel her breathing on my bush. With neck muscles strong from years at the gym, she began to fuck me, as furiously as any dick I'd ever had. Back and forth, in and out, she pounded her face into my soaking wet twat. Within moments, I'd cum again.

Pulling her tongue from my pussy, she licked her juice covered lips slowly, as if tasting me for the first time. Taking my legs from her shoulders, she retraced her route down my body back up to my face. When she got there, she kissed me again, almost as passionately as before. I tasted my sweetness and found myself even more horny, and in need of more. Pushing her down to the floor, I laid her on her back so I could have my fun.

Spreading her legs, I brought myself face to face with her treasure. I took a moment to take in the beautiful aroma you can only get from a pussy in heat. Leaning in closer, I used my tongue to quickly flick her clit, causing her to jump. I did this a few more times, until she popped her head up and screamed "Will you stop fucking around and eat me!?! Damn!"

Smiling, I dipped my head down and started to work on her smoldering cunt. Sucking her clit deeply into my mouth, I started to lick the underside of the head, just behind her piercing where she's the most sensitive. That always drove her wild and tonight was no exception. She went from squirming to wiggling to whole body gyrations in very short time. I rode every movement like a cowboy riding a bucking bronco.

When her moans started to lose some of their volume, I decided to take it to the next level. Sliding two fingers into her soaking wet pussy, I found the rough, ridged area that marked her G-spot. Rubbing it in a circle with a small amount of pressure was enough to send her back to the edge. The room was soon filled with the wet, squishy sounds of my fingers and tongue pleasuring her cunt.

I kept this up for a while, until she started begging for me to make her cum. Knowing that there was one sure way to do so, I began working my hand into her pussy, one finger at a time. Once my hand was fully inside her, I moved my body up the length of hers, until we were face to face. Planting my mouth on hers, I kissed her deeply, feeling the passion and urgency flow from her body to mine.

I positioned myself on top of her, with my hips behind my inserted hand. Slowly I began to fuck her, my hand stretching her twat like her husband's dick could never do. I tried to start slow, but bucked back to me faster and faster, begging me to give hard and rough. Not wanting to disappoint, I pounded myself into her, giving her the thorough fucking she craved. The faster I went, the closer she got to the edge, until finally she came, screaming at the top of her lungs.

She laid there trembling from the aftershocks, as I worked my hand out of her tightening hole. Lying beside her on the floor, I watched as her breathing returned to normal and the flushness left her face. When was back to herself, she opened her eyes, looked up at me and smiled. "Thanks, baby. I needed that." she said. Giving me a quick peck on the lips, she got up and put on her coat. "I'll call you, ok?"

"Ok."

With a smile, she was out the door and gone. I laid there for a moment, wishing things were different, before getting myself up and heading back to bed to give myself one more nut before going back to sleep.
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Monday, February 23, 2015

Wrong From Right byKuroshioX©

I know I'm wrong for this. Dead wrong. I know there isn't any mitigating circumstance or proper context that would make what I'm about to do right. I know and I don't care. This isn't me, I'm not this kind of person, but I'm not a saint either; you can only push me so far before I reach my breaking point. My rationale, as thin as it might be, is that Alessandra hurt me. She hurt me, so I want to hurt her in exchange. And I know an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind, but like I said before: I don't care. And that's why I'm in an upstairs bedroom with the lights off and the floor thumping to the bass of the party down below. It's also why I'm on my knees and not alone. 

But just to be completely clear: Alessandra made a mistake and that's the only reason I'm in this position. I'm not some kind of manipulative evil mastermind; I just saw an opportunity and moved to capitalize on it. Maybe I'll look back on this with shame and regret one day. Maybe I'll be the better person one day. 

Today, however, is not that day. 



She showed up to the party, sans boyfriend, with a few of her friends and already a little bit tipsy from pre-drinking. Alessandra naturally made quite the entrance, shrieking as she ran into other friends, snapping selfies and keeping a tall drink in her hand at all times. I noticed her walk in and ignored her, no reason to cause a scene, right? So she managed to get the first shot in with a snide remark about my weight when she saw me bent over getting a drink. And of course her bitches' coven tittered right along with her while I burned with embarrassment. 

I hadn't always hated her, but I'd never actually liked her either. Our relations had started off distantly cordial and had gone downhill like a Jamaican bobsled team, mostly due to her max diva personality not being able to stand the sight of someone... perfectly average...? I didn't understand it. It would have at least made sense if I was some kind of threat to her social position but we moved in wholly different circles; she was the queen bee on campus, the biggest fish in a small pond, whereas I was just a struggling student; juggling full-time classes with part-time work and (almost) no-time for myself. 

Still, I knew there was a non-zero chance of seeing Alessandra at the party, but until she actually mentioned my ass I hadn't given any thought to what I might say to her. Instead I stood there and burned with helpless fury; unable to come up with a suitable comeback and unwilling to start a brawl. My face was hot, the back of my teeth hurt and my stomach was churning. It wasn't a very good feeling. 

With my buzz thoroughly ruined, I stormed out of the kitchen and sat on the stairs, scrunched up and alone; stewing in my juices for the better part of an hour. It must've shown on my face, because no guys approached me in that whole time - which is probably some kind of record - and even my friends mostly steered clear. As the minutes ticked by though, I slowly regained my composure and stood, stretching a bit before heading back to the kitchen where the coolers were. As I rounded the corner, I saw an intriguing spectacle unfolding before me: a very drunk Alessandra arguing with her positively sober boyfriend, Donnie, about her recent alcohol intake. Donnie was trying to be calm and reasonable, but Alessandra was more interested in breaking noise ordinances with her voice and informing Donnie he was not, in fact, her father. 

The show didn't last too long. Donnie realized Alessandra wasn't interested in his concern and Alessandra was quickly pulled away by her gaggle of harpies. As the two partied company, I saw an opportunity and took it, smoothly approaching from side and offering him a (non-alcoholic) drink, "Bad night out, huh?" 

He ignored the drink, pursing his lips and shaking his head in reply. I raised the cup a little higher, "It's just a Coke, straight. Don't worry; I know you probably drove here." 

Donnie eyed the drink suspiciously before taking it gently and taking a gulp, "Thanks, uh..." 

I saw my chance and poured on the charm with a smile, "Jessica, but I prefer Jess. I take a few classes with Alessandra." 

One of his eyebrows lifted and he went to take another gulp as he asked, "So you're friends?" 

"We talk sometimes," I answered, giving a small shrug. Telling the truth is always the best way to lie. 

Donnie took the cup to his lips and drank, non-verbal acknowledgement. I smiled more broadly and let nature take its course from there. 



Alessandra's boyfriend isn't a horrible guy by any stretch, but he's not especially my type either. And I am definitely not his. The guys I'm into like girls with a little extra meat - and I'm not talking about weight - while Donnie said, somewhat obliquely, he likes his girls extra-girly, hence Alessandra. That's fine with me, everyone is allowed their preferences, but I'm not the type to chase the unobtainable. I actually feel sort of bad for him: he isn't the kind of guy to normally do this sort of thing and I'm pretty sure he's going to regret it. But right now, it doesn't matter one bit. He's just a means to an end. 



We probably talked for a good two hours, but it honestly didn't take too much convincing to get him upstairs into the darkened bedroom. Most of the time prior I was just in the holding pattern, occasionally running upstairs to use the bathroom and check that things were going to plan, while breaking things up dancing and other flirtatious behavior to put Donnie in the right frame of mind. By time all the pieces were in place, Donnie was practically eating out of my palm and so I leaned in close on the dance floor, whispered in his ear and led him up stairs. 

And so here we are: me on my knees, him swaying unsteadily with his pants around his ankles. There isn't much to make out much in the darkness, but his manhood is in my hands, thick and warm. I lean forward and lick along the top, sliding my wet tongue all the way back to his stomach while wrapping three fingers around his limp shaft. Listening for his change in breathing and squeezing my fingers tighter, I lick his belly button. But then something really important pops into mind, "Make sure you say something before you cum." 

The only sound is a disinterested grunt, so I repeat myself, "For real. Don't cum without telling me." 

"Alright," his voice is a whisper, but I hear the excitement behind it and decide to spare him any real teasing. Leaning down and taking his dick between my lips, I enclose his rock-hard length with my wet and willing mouth. At first I focus on the glans - dragging my lips back and forth and bringing a pleased grunt of out him - but after a few seconds his entire flaccid length slides into my mouth. I reach around his waist and cup his butt; kneading his skin while my tongue does all the work. It's nothing to deepthroat a semi-limp dick, but feeling a cock grow inside your mouth? 

That's a whole different ballgame. 

And Donnie agrees with me, "Oh, yeah, that's good. Hold it right there," as I moan around him, steadily working his dick with my tongue while my lips are pressed up against his stomach and ball sack. He lets out a pent-up sigh and I feel him twitch in the back of my throat. It almost makes me gag, but I relax my muscles and let him get a little harder in my mouth, his cock forced to an unnatural downward curve by the shape of my throat. Still, I keep my mouth pressed up against him, pulling him deeper with my hands as I feel inch after inch slide down past my tongue. A thick slime is falling from my lips, rolling down my chin and wetting his balls. I look up into his eyes - barely visible in the darkness - and press my lips against his skin harder. With every heartbeat, my throat feels fuller, his cock growing bigger in pulses, the constricted muscles of my oral fuckhole massaging his shaft. It isn't long before I take my last gulp of air, his thickness filling my mouth with each passing second. 

With my eyes watering, I keep a firm hold of his ass, as much to prevent myself from pulling away as it is for stability, holding my head in place. Tears are running down my cheeks and my vision is blurring, but I want to see this through, to prove to myself I can handle it. Donnie, for his part, does well not to grab my hair or push my head, either of which would give a serious risk of causing me to gag uncontrollably. Instead he goes from holding his hands at his sides, balling his fists spasmodically, to placing them on my shoulders, allowing me to do my thing with minimal interference and the occasional sigh, grunt, moan or word of encouragement. I'm thankful for that and reward him by slathering my tongue all over his goop-coated balls, working them over enthusiastically even as I feel myself running out of air. 

Fortunately, he's stopped growing, a full erection crammed awkwardly halfway down my throat tight - like a flower snaking its roots through cracks in the concrete. As my vision tunnels from the lack of oxygen I deliberately let my control of my gag reflex slip, my throat muscles clenching around him severely. As I expected, Donnie gives a stunted cry through gritted teeth and I steadily back off him, letting go of his ass, posting my hands to the floor to keep myself upright. It feels like I swallowed a longsword by time his erection pops from between my lips, bounding upwards and sending a thread of thick throatslime flying onto my face as it goes. 

As his member evacuates my throat, I cough a few times, one hand cupped near my mouth, the other reaching out to stroke Donnie's dripping wet dick while I get myself under control. While my strokes are firm but gentle, the coughing is definitely not, briefly rising to a crescendo before I finally hack up enough liquid to satisfy my body's demand for a clear airway. Then I pant loudly, gulping down air as my head clears, "...sorry about that. You're pretty fucking big, you know?" 

That's actually a lie; Donnie is around average. But I figure it can't hurt to flatter a guy once you're on your knees for him. 

He nods, "It's cool... I didn't think you'd do that. I didn't think you could do that," a note of amazement in his voice. 

"There are a lot of things you don't know I can do," I respond, trying to keep my voice husky rather than hoarse. 

He puts his hand on the back of my head - not pulling me forward, just holding it - and asks, "Yeah? Like what?" 

I smile and put a leg up, getting on one knee and letting my skirt ride higher along my thighs as I stroke his glistening dick. Even in the dim lighting, the wetness reflected off his dick, accentuating the size and curve of his dick. It is a huge turn-on, especially when taken along with my persistent light-headedness and the raw feeling in my throat from deepthroating. All that leads to quite the situation in my panties and I go to solve it by moving my free hand from the floor and under my skirt, yanking the soft material to the side and pulling my own stiff meat free. 

She springs up happily, tenting the hemline of my skirt as she pokes out from underneath. I quickly enclose my hand around her, grabbing the base tight enough to expand her head and cause her sisters to tighten up in anticipation. My heartbeat pulses through her and I slowly crank downward while looking at Donnie's wet package. She appreciates the view: the sight of a heavy, glistening dick is just as exciting to her as it is to me. I lick my lips and lean forward to satisfy my desire to be orally tested. 

Unfortunately, not all things mean the same to all people. Donnie catches a glance of what I am doing and pulls back, hand on my shoulder holding me only a few inches away from sucking his juicy prick, "Hey, uh-uh-uhhh... Jennifer?" 

"Jessica," I say, correcting him as gently as possible. 

"Right, Jess... uh, I'm not really into that whole dickgirl thing... y'know?" 

Oh right, I'd forgotten, Donnie likes 'em real girly and hold the extra meat. Slightly disappointed, I slip her back up under my skirt and tuck her into my waistband to keep her nice and discreet. She protests mightily, creating a wet spot by spitting precum on my skirt, but there is no way Donnie can see that. I ignore her neediness and insistence and get back to Donnie. 

To distract myself, I lean forward and run my tongue along his skin, from the bottom of his balls, stopping to swirl it around the hyper-sensitive base of his cock before running up and down, getting up to the crown and then going back down to his balls again, repeating the act over and over. He twitches under my tongue. Donnie starts breathing heavy and I take his balls in my hand, gently juggling them as I trail my tongue up his length one last time and start making out with his cock. 

"Ho-hoooo-oooh shit, OK Jenn, I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum!" 

My lips tighten around the head of his dick, smearing my tongue all over as I acknowledge him, "Mmmm-hmmm!" 

His hands grip my shoulders like they are hanging from a rock-face five hundred feet above the ground, but I ignore the pain and give one last bob of the head, slurping half his length and stroking him into my mouth with both hands. Predictably enough, he cums as my lips back off his length. His hot, bitter load coats my tongue and flies to the back of my throat. I gag and sputter it back up, just in time for another shot to hit the back of my throat and induce an even more powerful sputter, one that causes cum to shoot out of one of my nostrils. 

That's a bit more than I'm prepared to handle and provides the perfect segue for the next part of my plan: getting up off my knees and running into the bathroom. I clamp my mouth shut, riding out the coughing fit without spitting, then turning on the water and gently splashing my face. I look horrible: red-faced, mascara running down my cheeks, bloodshot eyes. 

After a few minutes, I return to the darkened bedroom, looking around for any sign of Donnie. But there's nothing, not even a pair of indents in the carpet to mark where he stood. Poor guy: he's probably wracked with guilt right now, regretting cheating on his girlfriend, no matter how bitchy, with some chick he just met; an unfortunate bystander in my war against Alessandra. It briefly tugs at my conscience, but I've already crossed the salty and bitter Rubicon, it's too late to turn back. 

I walk over to the bed, standing by the side for a few seconds before I take the lumpy sheets and blanket in my hand the throw them back. Underneath is Alessandra, deep in stupor's sleep on her back, with one strap of her top fallen down to her elbow, her face on its side. I knew she wouldn't stay upright with all the booze she was sucking down earlier and it was only a matter of waiting for her concerned friends to stash her somewhere to sleep it off before I would have an opportunity to humiliate her. 

I watch her silently for a few minutes; her boyfriend's cum becoming clammy and cool in my mouth. Already tomorrow's guilt is gestating for what I'm about to do. 

But that doesn't stop me. 

I lean over her and open my mouth, letting his cum fall from my lips and onto her face. It lands with a gentle splatter on her cheek and rolls down her jaw, making a small puddle on her neck before running down and onto the bed. I keep watching her for a bit then hike up my skirt and untuck my girlcock from my waistband. She's still eager as a beaver and I stroke her, deliberately, sneering at the bitch under me, watching her boyfriend's load drying in the dim ambient light, music thumping under my feet. I bite my lip and jack her faster while fantasizing about hateful things I could do to Alessandra. It doesn't take long before my dick expands in my hand, my own fat load pumping up from my balls, and I spray my kids all over her chest, taking care to hit her half-exposed tit before letting the rest stain her top. 

"Bitch," my voice is loud enough to be heard and Alessandra murmurs and stirs, her head flopping over to the other side. Surprisingly, it doesn't startle me in the slightest and I take my time, shaking the last drops from my cock and getting my skirt back into place before I turn around and walk out of the room. 

I'm not even through the door before shame comes flooding into my hardened heart, making my stomach churn for a second time tonight. I feel remorse, contrition and self-reproach all at once and it nearly overwhelms me as I close the door. But I straighten myself up, take a deep breath and walk down the stairs. 

There will be plenty of time tomorrow for becoming a better person.