42 Filthy Fucking Stories (48 page)

She moaned with pleasure, arching her hips in a rainbow toward his warm mouth. Vibrations from release erupted inside her and sent a mouthful of inner juices flooding into his mouth. His satisfied grunt drove her to frenzy. She pulled at the back of his neck, shoving the taste of her pussy onto his lips. They lingered there for a long moment before her hand slipped inside his loose pants.
 

Her eyes widened as she grasped a thick, hard girth and began stroking every inch of its length. He was on his knees in front of her rocking back and forth against her hand, sending waves of desire flooding through her body. His hand was suddenly at the back of her head and brought her flailing from the bench to a crouching on the ground, sending her already dripping pussy into a swollen, throbbing mess.
 

Doug popped his dick from his pants and her mouth dropped on top of the tip as her sloppy wet tongue circled his tip. He moved her mouth lower, slowly inserting his entire length, as though savoring every second her lipstick smeared lips lingered along his cock.

She pumped her head up and down working her finger and thumb around the base. His moans of pleasure overrode any thought that it would be easier to perform if he would get off his knees and sit on the bench. Claire rocked harder on his throbbing cock until she felt the skin tighten beneath her lips.
 

Slowly working her way from base to tip, Claire withdrew the meatstick from her mouth, then licked her lips in invitation. She popped a tit from the tight top and rolled it between her own finger and thumb before reaching for his hand to place against the other. They teased her nipples into large bullets for a half a minute together before she began loudly moaning with her own pleasure.
 

Doug suddenly grabbed a handful of her hair and nudged her toward the bench again. She tried to sit, but he bent her over the back, then spread her knees on the seat. She gasped as cool Halloween air slapped her bare ass, bulging from either side of the thin g-string. His left hand wandered her flesh, leaving a trail of warm coals as he felt every inch of her ass under his hand. She let out a yelp as he drew the string from her ass crack and then let it flick back into place.
 

Doug was acting so strange, Claire wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol in her blood, or the alcohol in his; all she knew was that she was stocking the bar at home as soon as she could so she could see more of this side of her husband.
 

Claire arched her back and gave Jack Sparrow an invitation a monk wouldn’t refuse.

He reached between her sticky thighs and grabbed her lips in a vice like grasp. Her swollen skin tingled, shooting waves of tension through her entire body. He pinched a tiny bit of the material, then pulled it away from her skin. Just as she thought he might let it fly back into place as he already had, the fabric gavee way to his strong hand. A thin strip of the sheer material shredded from the rest, leaving the parting of her lower lips to meet the darkness surrounding them.
 

Claire shivered as her tender skin kissed the evening air.
 

One finger trailed the crevice before plunging into her dark, hot cave. She squealed into a louder moan, then begged for him to replace his finger with his throbbing cock.
 

He obliged, cramming every possible inch of his hard member into her with a force that nearly knocked her over the back of the bench.
 

Small patches of sweat beaded across her stomach and chest as her heart galloped at a dangerous speed. Her back arched as she pushed her hips toward him, bucking her body to meet his thrusts, unable to contain herself, rocking wildly against his girth.
 

His hand hooked around her hip bones and pulled her further into every stroke. “Oh, baby,” she screamed. Her words seemed to shatter his hesitation as he started pounding harder into her dripping pussy. Claire tried to rock harder on him but the muscles in her body were busy passing the waves of vibrations from her release.
 

She slumped over the back of the bench in a breathless heap until he pulled his cock suddenly from her and draped her ass with a curtain of his white vanilla cream. The feel of it dripping from her ass made her fresh with sopping desire.
 

Claire started to stand, moving quickly to wipe herself off so they could continue the festivities when she felt a heavy hand on her back.
 

“What’s wrong, baby?” she asked.
 

“They’re coming,” the voice behind her whispered.
 

She felt a rough, towel-like fabric wiping at her ass, then heard his footsteps crunch into the brush. “Doug?” she said weakly.
 

“Claire?” she heard as she snapped her head away from the retreating footsteps and back toward the house, where a pair of new footsteps were bringing a set of figures from the shadows.
 

She saw the outline of the black pirate hat in the dim backlight of the house and her mouth gaped in horror.
 

“Claire?” he called out again.
 

“Yes,” she said, weekly.
 

“Claire, what are you doing back here?” Doug asked, his voice gentle.
 

It was only then that the second pair of footsteps spoke, “And have you seen Ken?” Claire recognized the voice, tumbling over the truth that she had just been fucked into oblivion by Ken Davis.
 

XXX

Hotel Cheater
 

Kim slouched on a barstool in the hotel bar, her luggage stacked in a quickly abandoned pile in her oversized suite. Her black Etienne Aigner Expandable bag held the dildo she’d be splitting her lips with later, once she had a little alcohol to warm her blood.

Kim had hit the airport bitch early that morning, waited on a cab for what felt like a week, then crossed town to a long day’s worth of worthless meetings, before finally checking into the Marriott, throwing her luggage in a pile, and going back downstairs for a cosmo, after briefly considering laying on the bed, sprawling her legs, and giving herself a personal quickie.

Kim sat sipping, while thinking of Tom and the last seven years of their married life. Their life together had started with nothing but sparks, but now they were both busy enough to keep their flame wavering. They still had sex, but they weren’t doing the headboard bashing like they used to. Kim had been so busy running from A to B and back, she’d only swallowed Tom’s load once in the last month – their all-time low, and he’d only fucked her into a gush twice.

He used to nail her sopping nook 5-10 times a week.
 

Kim had a raging sex drive, and had since Jason Radcliffe first tickled her vertical smile junior year of high school. Kim was one of those girls who swore she wouldn’t have sex until she was 18, but figured a cock in the mouth wasn’t really sex, but after letting Tommy fuck her mouth for five minutes, she was so wet she left a snail trail on the bed then sat on his cock.
 

He slipped inside like he was trying on a fire hose, fucked her like until he came hard enough to put out the fire in her pussy. Kim harbored a bottomless appetite for dick ever since.
 

Tom knew that Kim got achy cunt and felt bad that they’d had such a shortage of fucking lately. He packed her extra-large dildo with a smile and a sorry, kissing her on the cheek and promising her the real thing “soon,” just as he was flying out the door for another all nighter at the station. The most relief Kim’s hungry cunt had felt in the last two weeks was when she resorted to beating the beaver in the bathroom of her east coast office two days before.
 

Kim took the last swallow from her cosmo,
 
ordered another as a handsome man in what she was pretty sure was a Valentino suit sat beside her.
 

The hotel lobby was intentionally dark, with candles dotting the small tables and a short row of hanging lights dangling behind the bar. The stranger’s face was painted in shadows. He sat beside her, staring at the polished wood, looking like he was thinking of a million things, with barely the attention to order his scotch on the rocks.

The bartender had his scotch in a minute, and the stranger sat not sipping, his fingers wrapped around the glass as his eyes drifted to the back of the bar. He exhaled,
 
lifted the glass to his lips, and poured the hot fuel down his throat in three long swallows.
 

Kim said, “You’re either mad or sad, but no one drinks at 100 MPH in a hotel bar if they’re not looking to crash.”
 

The stranger looked at Kim and lit his face with a smile. Lit her face, too. Kim’s fur box flinched. “Not really either one,” he said. “Just exhausted, and frustrated I suppose.”

“Why are you frustrated?” Kim nursed her drink, wondering what in the hell she was doing. She wasn’t sure whether she was serious about inviting the guy up to her room to fuck her cunt into a shudder or not, like the devil in her ear was suggesting she should do, but she definitely wanted him to try.
 

“A bit of everything, I guess,” the stranger said. He dropped his eyes to his empty glass, then to the bartender.
 

Kim did a mental inventory:

Long flowing strawberry blond hair, spilling to the middle of her back and making her look like Kidman at her best: CHECK.
 

Short skirt, and silky sleeveless top, showing her slender, toned arms: CHECK.

Jacket draped on the back of a bar stool, legs clad in sheer black stockings, and skirt
 
riding high enough for the stranger to see the lacy tops of her thigh highs: CHECK.

A black stiletto dangling from the end of her foot: CHECK.

Kim turned her eyes to the stranger again, pulling his attention toward her porcelain features and cerulean eyes. He smiled and nodded. She smiled back.

She could see the flush on his face and imagined a twitch in his cock.

Kim felt her clit moisten, as though it hadn’t been wet enough before she got to the bar. She sipped her drink and stole another glance at the stranger. His dark suit framed his muscular shoulders, and his dark hair was neatly combed, showing a strong jaw and deep set dark brown eyes.
 

He was good looking enough to make her gusher gush, but Kim hadn’t decided if he was good looking enough to bend the vows.
 

“Another?” the bartender asked, pointing at the stranger’s empty glass.
 

He nodded, then said, “And another for the lady,” gesturing toward Kim.
 

“Thank you,” Kim said, smiling wider.

“My pleasure, long night?”
 

“No, not so much. Helluva long day, though. Too much work.” She said “Is that why you’re frustrated?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it’s mostly work, but there’s other shit in life, too. You know how it goes. Sometimes life gets the shits and you’re just a bowl of water.” He raised his glass and took a sip.

“Ha,” Kim laughed. “Isn’t that the truth?”
 

The stranger laughed, too, before he took another sip. “So what brings you here?”

“Work meetings,” Kim said. “I have a client who insists on seeing me in person, once per quarter, even though my work is all remote. I’m a web designer, so I can get my work done from anywhere. They really should save my time and their money, but hey, they help with the mortgage, and I know how to say ‘yes, sir!’ How about you?”

 
“I work next door, but I didn’t feel like going home yet, and I definitely needed a drink, or two.”
 

“Married?” she asked, though she had already spied the white gold on his left hand.

“Yep,” he replied. “But things have been rough at the ranch lately. What about you?”

Kim nodded. “Been married for seven years, but we’ve had barely any time together lately.” Kim leaned towards the stranger, just enough to give him a perfect shot of Thelma and Louise. “Our work is putting too much distance between us.”

“I’m on the same train, heading to the same station,” the stranger said, lifting his glass in the air again before taking another sip.
 

They made some more small talk, with Kim having a hard time believing the guy had a wife who wouldn’t make time to fuck him. He was gorgeous. When he suggested they sit at one of the tables, she agreed. They grabbed their drinks and nestled into a small table in the corner.
 

“By the way, I’m Derek” he said pulling out her chair.
 

“Kim,” she said, sitting, crossing her legs, and watching Derek stare as he sat beside her.
 

They were two more rounds in when Derek started spilling his story. He and his wife had been married for four years, but sex was already waning, and he was desperate to get things back on track. His wife used to be a total slut, waking him up by sucking his dick, or coming down stairs to meet him in lingerie that was sexy enough to keep him hard half the day. Sometimes she even went to bed early so he could “accidentally” walk in on her masturbating with one of her many toys. But lately, she’d been so busy at work with a new fiscal year, on top of a new system-wide software install that had kept her working all hours and every day ending in Y.
 
She was too tired to do anything at night.
 
Derek had a
 
massive class action suit that was occupying most of his mind and hours.”