He reached into his pocket, took out his wallet, removed the card and gave it to the waitress. We sat in silence as Ian avoided eye contact. I’d probably just cost him £300.
A few minutes later, she returned.
“Room 5, on the first floor,” and handed the card back to Ian.
As we stood to leave, I put my hand on Ian’s shoulder and said, “No, we’ll text you shortly, wait here.”
“But…” he objected. I looked straight at him. No words were said. Eva was almost panting with excitement. He stopped hovering above the seat like some kind of insect and sat back, defeated. We made for the stairs.
I took Eva by the hand and led her to the room. The sounds of traffic and her clicking heels on the floor seemed like a film soundtrack. A thirty-second walk seemed to last for hours. Once in the room, clothes were pulled off and words exchanged.
“God, you’re so much better at this than I expected,” she panted.
“Just doing what comes naturally,” I assured her.
We kissed furiously like this was our last opportunity. She was sexier than I remembered from the party. It’d been dark in the garden, but here I could see how firm she was. With the most fantastic breasts – full, but high and with little give when grabbed. I bent down to take her hard nipple into my mouth. She reached for my cock, which pressed hard into her belly, unable to get her hands around it’s girth. We stumbled out of our underwear and toppled on to the bed.
I don’t really consider myself what some would call a “generous” lover. I’m happy to take my time – go down, explore, stimulate – but in reality, for me, it’s all about the fucking. I love to fuck. I love to shove my cock into a woman and and feel the ridges of her cunt as I thrust. I love to hold them down and use them for my physical pleasure. My mind stops racing and I can be entirely focussed on the smells, sensations and sounds of kissing, fucking and coming. I consider it a huge bonus if that’s the kind of coupling my partner desires – but only a bonus, not a necessity. Given the unexpected nature of this encounter, and a lingering feeling that the devil makes work for (Ian’s) idle hands, I wasn’t going to make this a marathon.
“Turn over and lie flat on the bed,” I commanded.
She did as she was told. I slid on top of her body, my now throbbing cock placed just under her buttocks, filling the gap between her thighs. I pushed her legs apart with my knee and placed her neck in the crook of my elbow to prevent her from moving forward. With a single thrust, I penetrated her cunt to it’s fullest. She momentarily tensed and then completely surrendered as was she bound by my arm around her neck. As I thrust, I grabbed her phone from the bed where she’d dropped it, held it in front of us and took a picture. There were no words as I hammered home. Slowly, her body tensed, her limbs straightened, fingers and toes extended then curled, and her back arched, lifting me a few inches.
The most intense sound came from her – like an animal’s cry, it grew and escaped as she came; a soft, cracking, scream. Still, I kept pumping into her, her body now perspiring from the tension of her continuous orgasm. As I joined her, we both bent backwards, as the most almighty load was delivered into her and the flexing of my arm muscles started to choke her. I flopped back on top of her and released her neck. She started panting. Breathing like the animal that had escaped the predator one more time. I rolled off her – she’d given me what I wanted.
After a few moments, she rolled over and kissed me.
“That was exceptional. I almost feel for Ian having missed that performance.”
“He can watch the next one,” I said, smiling with a lightness and relief in my tone that I’d not expected. I grabbed her phone and looked at the picture I’d hastily taken. Me peering cheekily from behind her head. Her with her eyes closed, hair falling down her face and mouth open like a cheap sex doll. I texted Ian from her phone and sent myself a copy to remind me of her passion:
E: You can come up now
E:
Seconds later, there was a knock at the door. I’m sure the little weasel had been outside it and not in the bar. I got up and let him in. He involuntarily looked down at my cock. It hung like fat sausage, glistening from the wetness of his fiancée.
“I need a shower,” I said. “Eva has been through the wringer – give her a massage.”
I went into the bathroom and took a cool shower. I needed to be fresh if I was to do this again. When I came back into the room, Eva was lying face down on the bed motionless, with Ian at the side rubbing her bottom and probing between her legs.
“Hey!” I shouted. “What are you doing?”
“You said give her a massage,” he said in a surprised, almost guilty, tone.
I strode over to him, he stood up and I grabbed his balls through his suit. I squeezed harder than I’d intended to and he winced. Ian may not be the jealous type, but it appears that I may be.
“Not her cunt, you fuckwit. That’s mine now. I want her to be relaxed for the next round. Undress and lie face down on the floor.”
As he stripped, I could see he had an erection. He really did get off on having me fuck his partner.
I touched Eva’s leg and she turned over sleepily, lazily. She was totally spent. I hoped she was still up for this. I turned her through 90 degrees, raised her legs onto my shoulders and positioned my cock on her vulva. I could feel the dampness and the heat. As I did so, I placed one foot on Ian’s back to brace myself. My hardening cock re-entered her, my previous emission making the entry even easier. She started moaning – a very different sound to before and I took a little more time to find my pleasure inside her. With each thrust the weight of my leg made him huff like a smoker after a run. He could hear and feel me violating his yet-to-be bride. Out of the corner of his eye, I’m sure he was watching as my heavy balls slapped against her hard buttocks, my ball sack tightening with the mounting sexual excitement.
Eva involuntarily began touching her clitoris, the darting fingers touching my thickening shaft. Once again, in a surprisingly short amount of time, we both came, and I pulled out. As I moved back, drips of my semen fell on Ian. Now released, he looked up the gaping hole that had been his girlfriend’s vagina, one load of semen whipped into a white foam surrounding it, the second oozing out onto the sheets at the edge of the bed.
There was a small, damp stain on the carpet underneath him. It appears the rocking motion from my weight and overall scenario had been too much for him.
“Are you sure you’ve not done this before? That was a great performance,” he said.
I was confused for the third or fourth time today. He continued, “A lot of men who claim to be bulls just can’t pitch the humiliation right. They might ask me to sit in the corner or tie me to a chair, but that’s just to get me out the way as they just want to fuck, but you’re a pro, like you had it all scripted.”
He was being almost chatty, like he felt something had changed and we were friends now. He smiled at me as if to ask for some kind of acknowledgement that we were done and I’d just have a beer with him or something.