I was sitting in my car having a smoke before work when his message tinged it’s arrival on my phone. It had been four days since I let Billy fuck my ass in the kitchen at work, and while we hadn’t spoken a single word about it since, we had spoken plenty about work throughout the rest of that day.
But we hadn’t worked together since then. And while we hadn’t discussed our encounter, I’d certainly been thinking about it. A lot. Far more than a married woman should ever think about another man. In my defence, I’m pretty sure the gynecologist who performs my annual checkup has seen my pussy more often than my husband has. He talks about work stresses and all sorts of excuses, but surely expressing your ‘love’ to your wife should be a high priority, especially if you can still fit in a Friday night out with ‘the boys’.
‘Wyd,’ the text read. Fuck I hate lazy texts. How much time does someone add to their lives by typing ‘wyd’ instead of ‘what you doing’ or even, ‘good morning, have you started work yet, cause I haven’t stopped thinking about fucking your ass and my cock is rock hard and waiting for you.’
Worse yet was my pitiful response that I was just passing time until I started work in half an hour. Pitiful because surely I had better things to do than sit in my car and chain smoke until work started. But given the sad state of my home life, I really didn’t. And I liked to be early, prepare for any traffic delays, rather than running late and stressing out.
‘That gives us plenty of time,’ his reply read, swiftly followed by an address. It wasn’t far away, and to be fair, I’d been spending my days far wetter than I should while dreaming of a return visit to his cock.
With the car in gear, the engine roared, and I was off.
‘Wow, I didn’t think you’d actually…’ he tried to speak when he opened the door to me. But time was, once again, of the essence. I cut off his sentence by gluing my lips to his. He accepted this well, wrapping his arms around my petite frame and lifting me up to match his six foot three height. He was definitely telling the truth. I could feel his erection pressing up under my skirt, teasing the opening of my pussy even, since I’d left my knickers in the car.
The door was over-pushed, and after reaching it’s most open point, it banged hard against the frame, tightly shut. One of those things is exactly how I planned this morning to continue. I wasn’t disappointed.
Billy flopped me down onto his lounge and before I could stop him, his mouth and tongue were lashing away at my pussy. He mumbled something about wanting to do this the other morning or some shit, but that mother fucker had some skills and his words entered my ears like gibberish. There was nothing else but his tongue, and the smooth bristle of a young man’s beard tickling my labia.
When his finger reached inside me and like some trained puppet, immediately found my g-spot, I could feel my whole body start to give way. On the plus side, while edging me like that, he also found the opportunity to undo the tassel tie on his robe, as I discovered when I sat up.
‘I don’t have time for this,’ I barked at him. My hand found his shoulder and pushed out from between my thighs, and kept going until he was on the ground. I readily climbed atop, and as I worked the head of his thick cock to the lips of my vagina, I could see the look of confusion spread across his face. ‘Well we’re passed that now.’
I sank down onto his shaft, his girth immediately crossing my eyes and choking my breath. Billy tried to wrangle with the shitty buttons on my shirt, but I batted his hands aside and moved them onto my throat. He was a good boy and knew to squeeze at the sides, not on my larynx.
With my knees on his chest and his hands on my throat, despite how it may sound, I took control. He was my weapon, and I was going to use him how I saw fit. I rocked back and forth, getting the angle of his cock to massage my g-spot greater than his fingers did, while my clit rubbed hard against his pubic bone. Jeezus!
‘I wanna eat your pussy again. I wanna munch on your clitoral cake.’ His attempt at dirty talk was cute, but distracting. One of my hands wrapped over his mouth, the other pressing in on my belly, pushing his cock harder against my g-spot.
‘Oh fuck yeah, just like that, ‘I moaned. The look in his eyes told me he was telling the truth about eating ‘my cake’, but more than likely he just didn’t like not being the one in control. But when it’s been longer than a year since surgical ‘duck bills’ or a vibrator have touched your pussy, you don’t want to miss that window of opportunity.
Rocking on a cock is seriously the only way women should fuck. It hits all the right spots, and better yet, puts you in power. Billy possibly wasn’t even a good lay, but it was 1000% better than the nothing I had experienced for so long. I could feel my pussy dripping all over him, but I’m sure he loved that. I wouldn’t know if he did, my eyes were shut as I rode along the beach against the waves of ecstasy crashing all around.
‘Don’t fucking move,’ I cried out, both my hands planted firmly on his hairy chest, my pelvis still rocking against his massive cock. ‘Right there, right there…’ I’m definitely ashamed of my choice of words at that moment, but I couldn’t care. Orgasming on a cock was a very rare occurrence, and I was going to milk it (pun intended) for all I could.
Beneath my orgasmic moans, I could hear him follow close behind. I grabbed his shoulders and rolled back, his body followed suit until he was above me.
‘Not inside,’ I barely managed in my climatic haze. Billy withdrew that monster of a cock, and I felt the warm surge explode across the trimmed hairs of my pubic region. His face seemed almost pained as he drained his load against me, his incoherent words offering not much difference to that ideal.
Billy had iced my cake, and while it was a bitch to clean up, the fucking fluids he had drawn from me were well more than worth it.
I made it to work with three minutes to spare, but a glow that, according to my regular customers, lasted the whole day through.
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Since then she has continued to write, usually just for her own enjoyment, but now hopes to share that pleasure with a wider audience.
She likes to think she’s a Carrie but with fantasies of being a Samantha. Or is that the other way around?’
With 11 books already published and more on the way!