I lie on my back on the carpeted floor. I lift my buttocks just enough to slip off my panties. Still clothed, you are sitting on the edge of the bed. My head is at your feet. I crane my head back to look at you: Are you really OK with this? You give me a thin smile but I can read nothing in it. His hand is between my legs, parting my labia with tentative fingertips. He is younger than I first thought, maybe younger than me, and shy.
You haven’t moved from the bed since we brought him back to the hotel. You watched as he and I stood and studied each other in the middle of the room, uncertain of what to do next. Without saying a word. I pulled my dress off over my head. Then I knelt to unzip his trousers and free his cock. I never took my eyes from yours as I circled his uncircumcised foreskin with the tip of my tongue. I wasn’t sure then if I wanted to fuck him – or if you wanted me to. It’s been years since I’ve touched another’s cock.Its girth and fleshiness were unfamiliar, new.
He grips his cock’s foreskin between thumb and two fingers, drawing it back as he rubs my vulva with the glans, now wet from my saliva. My cunt dilates; a warm, aqueous seep eases all of it inside me. Supporting himself on one hand, palm splayed next to my head, he lowers his torso onto me. He is lighter than I expect. Boney fingers scissor one of my nipples, lips brush my shoulders and neck. Our hips collide gently as he begins to slide back and forth within me. Slow, I tell him but my hesitancy has gone. I close my eyes and try not to think of you watching as a complete stranger fucks me.
Arousal floods my head, throat, breasts, ass and cunt. I don’t want to come but the urge is insidious. He deepens his thrusts. I thrust my pelvis up hard and wrap my legs across the small of his back to urge the head of his cock up against my belly. I draw a rasping breath and try to hold it. Blood wells at my temples. his tongue traces a throbbing artery along my neck and his breath is hot. I slide a hand between us to cup his balls with my palm and as I do, I feel the first spit of cum within my cunt. He drives his cock into me as far as he can and holds it there. Tremors of intense pleasure seep from my pelvis and ass to my chest and amplify to become a single wrenching shudder. My cry is strangled by a lack of breath. I suck air hard and feel him come again. He falls against me like a broken doll.
I keep my eyes closed, my head turned to one side. I don’t want to look at him. Only when I feel him push himself up and away from me, when I hear him enter the bathroom and close the door, do I turn to look at you.
You are still at the edge of the bed but now your trousers are unzipped and you’re stroking your cock. You don’t say a word. I bend my knees slightly and open my legs wide to force my raw, aching cunt to gape and encourage a rivulet of sticky fluid to trickle from it. I want you to look at this trace of the stanger. I smear it down my perineum with the tip of my index finger then raise a cum-coated knuckle to my lips to lick it. The cloying, sweet-sour taste turns me on. I push three fingers of my other hand into my cunt, to rub against my g-spot. My palm is hard against my clitoris.
You kneel on the floor between my legs, trousers beneath your knees, stroking your cock faster, with your thumb and forefinger just beneath the glans. I tilt my hips up towards it and splay my fingers to widen my cunt’s dank orifice as you begin to come. You spray semen between my fingers into its ravenous maw. We can both smell the residue of the stranger. When you graze my clitoris with your spent cock, I come again. And begin to cry, in grief as much as pleasure.