I’d never cheated before, but I was just so fucking bored. Lights off missionary sex once a month is not really my idea of a good time, and I wanted more — more passion, more excitement, more risk. So when I came across a dating website for people seeking illicit affairs, I thought about it for all of twenty seconds before signing up. Then I browsed through my possible matches, one-handed, while rubbing myself through my panties with the other.
It didn’t take long to narrow my choice to a few likely candidates — young, virile, not-too-demanding types who were obviously looking for no-strings sex rather than some torrid love affair. I didn’t need anything complicated. I picked a guy who sounded like he could be fun, and arranged a liaison at a hotel in town.
I’d like to say I felt guilty, or nervous, but I didn’t. I was horny, excited, and ready to get fucked. When I entered the hotel bar I recognized him at once from his profile pic, and felt a thrill of anticipation as I made eye contact across the room and beckoned to him to follow me. He was broad and stocky, not particularly handsome but he looked tough, like a bouncer or bodyguard. I was looking forward to letting him manhandle me.
We got in the elevator and I put a finger to my lips, warning him not to speak. He looked me up and down approvingly. I’d dressed for the occasion in stockings and heels, and I felt his eyes on my ass, wiggling in my tight dress, as the elevator door opened and he followed me down the corridor to our room. Once inside we stood smiling at each other, soaking up the sexual tension.
“Good to meet you,” he said. “My name’s…”
“I don’t care what your name is,” I said hastily, cutting him off. “Is your cock hard?”
He grinned wolfishly. “Oh, so that’s the way you want to play it? Suits me. And as you can see…” He gestured down to his crotch, where a very obvious erection was making itself known through his pants. He had a thick Eastern European accent, and a confident air that suggested he was used to calling the shots in the bedroom. He was just what I needed.
Stepping closer, he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me, one hand immediately sliding down to squeeze my ass. His kiss was firm, forceful, and I felt a flutter of lust as his hard cock pressed against my stomach. I ground against it deliberately, feeling how it twitched in response. I wanted to get my hands on it, right now.
Pushing him back against the wall, I sank to my knees, looking up at him wickedly as I unbuckled his belt and eased down his zipper, letting my hand linger over his erection as I did so. His pupils were blown with lust, but he still looked calm and in control. Good. I didn’t want him losing his composure until I’d wrested all the pleasure I craved from his burly body.
I pulled his cock out of his pants and wrapped my hand around the girth, admiring the straight, thick heft of it. He was uncut; definitely European, then. He groaned his approval as I angled it towards my mouth and circled my tongue around it experimentally. It felt hot and so very hard. Pressing my hands on his hips to hold him in place, I took him deeper into my mouth, my tongue caressing the underside of his prick, where the thickest vein throbbed.
I wanted to feel more skin, and shoved his pants and shorts down to his knees, wrapping my hands around the back of his hairy thighs as I took more of him in my mouth. I felt his muscles tense as he actively resisted the urge to thrust. Good manners then; but not too much of a gentleman to weave his fingers into my hair and encourage me to start bobbing my head faster. I did so enthusiastically, making sloppy sucking noises as I swallowed him deeper and deeper. I could feel his flesh thrum fiercely against my tongue, and became aware of the answering pulse of lust between my legs.
When I felt his cock start to flex upward in my mouth, I pulled back, not wanting to take him too close to the edge before I’d ridden him. I led him to the bed and pushed him onto his back, stripping off his shoes, pants and shorts quickly and efficiently, as he pulled off his shirt. He took a condom from his pocket with a flourish and rolled it over his cock, winking at me.
“Undress for me,” he said, making it sound more like an order than a request. I unzipped my dress and let it drop. He grinned appreciatively at the sight of me in my heels, stockings and sexy lingerie.
“Very nice,” he said, making it sound filthier than the simple words merited. Arousal flared deep within my core as he wrapped a hand around his cock and stroked lazily, staring blatantly at my body with no attempt to disguise his lust. This raw, uncomplicated hunger was precisely what I’d been missing.
Kicking off my heels, I straddled him, stroking my panty-clad pussy against his rigid cock. I was dripping wet, the fabric clinging stickily to me, and as I ground down on him I knew it wouldn’t take much to make me come. He sat up, my knees either side of his hips, and held me tighter against him, gripping my ass hard. I rocked against his boner, the delicious friction building as my pussy lips spread open, exposing my sensitive clit. When he wound his fingers in my hair and tugged, pulling my head back so my spine arched and my crotch thrust against his erection even harder, I came with a gasp.
He nuzzled his face in my cleavage, then unclipped my bra and sucked my stiff nipples. When the tremors of my orgasm started to subside, he set them off again by tugging my panties aside, finally exposing my overheated pussy to the air-conditioned chill, and rubbing a calloused thumb over my clit. My yelp of pleasure gave away how good it felt.
“Does this wet little cunt need fucking?” he growled, his breath hot on my neck.
“Oh god, yes!” I gasped, too horny to care how desperate I sounded.
“With my fingers, like this?” he asked, thrusting two thick fingers up into me so I flinched at the sudden penetration. “Or with my hard cock?”
“Your cock, please — give me your cock,” I said, circling my hips involuntarily to ride his fingers. He watched me do it for a long moment, then slowly and deliberately withdrew his fingers and sucked them, a glimmer of amusement cutting through the lust on his face as I whined at the loss of contact. He lay back against the pillows, gripping his cock again and waving it at me in invitation. Peeling off my sodden panties and tossing them at his face so he could take a deep sniff, I straddled his hips once more, lining up the slick head of his cock with the creamed-up opening of my pussy.
I was so wet I slid all the way down on him with one smooth stroke, my breath hitching at the way his thick shaft opened me up. When I’d taken him to the hilt, trembling at the feeling of fullness, the pressure against all my most sensitive spots, I started rocking my hips again, slow and rhythmic. His eyes raked over my body, drinking in the sight of my pussy lips hugging around the base of his cock, lingering on my breasts as they jiggled with each rise and fall, then back up to my face with frank enjoyment of my excitement. I was coming apart rapidly, shaking and moaning. His thumb moved back to swipe roughly over my clit and I abandoned my rhythm, grinding down harder, giving in to the pressure of his hand against my pelvis.
Abruptly, he flipped me over onto my back, staying buried inside me as he rolled on top. Now he was dictating the pace, controlling the sensations that swept through me with every snap of his hips. I wrapped my legs around his back so he was plunging into me ever deeper, dragging against my G-spot with each thrust. The tension built and built, muscles taut, exquisite agony spiralling up until with a rush of wetness I starting coming around his cock.
My spine arched, head thrown back, screaming out my pleasure as he kept pounding into me. Each thrust seemed to spark off a fresh wave of orgasmic shivers; and when they finally began to die away, he grabbed my wrists and pinned them up above my head, making me squirm as it set me off coming again.
When I was exhausted and drenched with sweat, he pulled out of my sensitized snatch, whipped off the condom and offered his cock to my mouth. I sucked it greedily, with more heat than finesse, intent on making him finally lose control. His abs were clenching and spasming crazily, and when I fluttered my tongue over the slit he groaned and spurted into my mouth. I looked into his eyes as I swallowed it down.
I lay there basking in the peaceful feeling of utter satiety, too lazy even to wipe up the pussy cream soaking my thighs, as he took a shower and got dressed.
“I’ll bring some champagne next time,” he said as he kissed me goodbye.
“Next time?” I said teasingly. “What makes you so sure there’ll be a next time?”
“If you don’t see me again, you won’t find out what else I can do,” he said with a cocky grin. “Maybe you’ll even let me tell you my name. I’d like to hear you scream it as I fuck you…”
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More confessions from me here — if you think you can handle it! Maybe have a cold shower first…
