Gender: Male Age: 46 Location: West Coast
|Introduction: A woman gets something she didn't expect . . .|
The crumpled towel. The sock hanging over the edge of the hamper. The toothpaste squished into a glob with no sense of neatness. The glass on the side table, still holding a few ounces of wine from last night. What a fucking slob he is. Why did I ever let him move in here with me?
Now he’s gargling out some off-key rendition of a Guns-N-Roses song and probably breaking the bar of soap in half. I don’t think I’m very good at sharing. I’m not ready to get in there, but I don’t want him in my damn shower. He can’t see that I’m doing a little brow maintenance as he bangs on the shower glass, so he swings the door open – flooding the room and my mirror with steam. He has no clue, the randy jerk.
“Why waste all this nice hot water – jump in – we’ll do our part to save the earth.” He blurts out, sprinkling my leg with droplets of clumsy come-on. “whaddya say, sexy?”
I turn and give him my best “you’ve got to be kidding” look, and he persists with his all-too-familiar eyebrow-lift move. I turn away as if he’s said nothing to me and wipe the steam off the mirror.
“Your loss.” He sing-songs, retreating back into the shower to mangle yet another 90’s classic.
Although he’s got the arrogance you’d expect from a man that looks like he does, I don’t think he noticed that I eyeballed him pretty good as he hung out of the shower. I peeked at his great arms supporting that taut torso, highlighted by a near-perfect chest. The one thigh I glanced at rippled under the water dripping across it. It didn’t escape my notice that his cock was semi-hard. OK, so he was hot – but today he’s a hot jackoff, in more ways than one. I crack me up.
The water shuts off and the towel over the top rail slips backwards into the shower. He’s stopped singing, but he’s still humming something. Would it be rude to tell him to shut the fuck up, I wonder? This time I’ve already got the hair dryer on to clear the mirror. He pauses in the entry to the shower and rubs himself some more with the towel – and the gaze I feel from his eyes is so obvious, it’s almost painful. The noise of the dryer keeps me from hearing him say something from over there.
The pinch on my ass I can feel. Damn it, I do not want to engage his lusty intent right now – I don’t like him much – and I’m even more pissed because his hand on my ass has triggered a reaction in my nipples that I can’t hide. I push his hand away and lean in towards the mirror.
“Not now, jeez.” I sputter, “I’ve got to get ready.”
He brushes by me on his way out, making sure his semi-erect cock reaches out and pushes the fabric of his towel against my flimsy robe. I sigh loudly and obviously as he leaves. Back to the mirror and I try to get the day ahead in focus. Lots of deadline action the next few days and a fussy client at the top of the list this afternoon. Was he still wet when he left the bathroom?
“Excuse me,” leaning just past my ribs he reaches to open the drawer with the combs and brushes “thank you!” He looks up at me with a sly grin, pausing his glance along the curve of my breast and the stiff nipple trying to escape out of the edge of my loosely tied garment. Another eyebrow lift from him, and another eye-rolling from me. He takes the largest hairbrush, my favorite, and exits.
The list of grievances is getting longer, the conflicting feelings getting more confusing, the hand on the clock behind me moving much too quickly. Did I trade lonely for inconvenienced? Have I become less myself just because somebody else is using my favorite hairbrush? Why can’t I just stop thinking about all this crap, get finished and knock this day out? Come on, I can do it.
“Why are you such a bitch this morning?” His words, spoken from just outside the door, slap me in the face, bounce off the mirror and punch me in the chest. Holy Fuck. I’m gripping the tweezers hard in one hand and the edge of the countertop in the other. I feel like I could tear the marble off and clobber him with it. I must think of the perfect retort that will put him on his heels.
“Fuck you,” I growl, missing my intended mark by a bit.
I lean past the door’s molding to see where he is and he’s right there, still naked, still a little wet in a couple spots. I was ready to really get into it with him, but he’s so close it startles me. I swallow my impulse to chew his ass off and go back to grumbling under my breath. Fucking hot man-child, what was I thinking?
He slithers back into the bathroom, putting the brush on the counter next to me as he settles directly behind me. He looks through the mirror – gazing right into my eyes like a predator - like he did the first night we met. I can’t meet his stare any longer and move my eyes down to the – what did I have in my hand again – the sink. He moves even closer to me, without touching me, we can’t be more than a couple of millimeters apart.
“What?!?” I exclaim.
“You know what,” he hisses at the back of my head.
“Seriously, you’re really getting on my nerves.” I move from a petulant to a pleading tone, maybe he’ll give up.
“Oh yeah, what’s the problem?” he asks, obviously not caring what the answer will be.
“For one thing,” I begin, standing up a little straighter and pressing into the edge of the cool counter, “that’s my favorite brush.”
He moves forward to fill the small gap between us and slowly takes the brush in his hand. He lifts it and twirls it slowly. I watch him examine it as if he’s never seen it before. He looks back at me through the mirror and lowers the brush again.
Holy CHRIST! The sting comes out of nowhere and moves from my ass up through my spine and out of the orifices of my head. My eyes water immediately and I draw such a sharp breath I think I whistled. Did he just…
“What the Fu-!” I try to turn and confront him but he presses his weight into me – that semi-rigid cock swelling against the very spot he just punished – and pins me against the counter. My chest flushes with warmth and my face reddens, but I’m not sure if it’s anger or if he’s set off some kind of involuntary thing within me.
“I told you I don’t have time for this shit!” I muster my best command voice, but I feel feeble despite it.
“You’re gonna make time right now,” he grunts into the side of my head “maybe I can fuck the attitude out of you!”
I look up and see that he’s not kidding – he’s got his prey and he fully intends to feed until he is sated. The animal stare penetrating me in that damn mirror is a convincing one, damn it. That gorgeous cock pressing between my ass cheeks is in charge. I don’t want to – I want to – I don’t want him to know I want to. I think I hate his fucking guts.
The brush clatters into the sink and his hands grasp the open edge of my robe, peeling the fabric back, exposing my already erect nipples to the cool air, making them even harder. He grinds himself into me roughly as his hands reach up from behind and clamp onto my tits like he’s hanging onto to a 10-story ledge. Oh fuck, I love it when he grabs me that hard. His meaty fingers pinch and twist my nipples while his palms press my flesh up, and up, so hard.
“Fucking Pig!” I tell him as I thrust my chest out to meet his vicious groping.
“Shut up,” he says as he takes one of my hands and puts it where his was on my left breast.
To put an exclamation on his point, he takes my hair in his free hand, yanks into a fistful and pulls my head back to his. He gives my boob one last kneading, and a little slap as his hand moves up to the back of my neck. I’m trying to grip my own tit as firmly as he did, but I just don’t have that kind of power. I am suddenly aware of how moist my pussy has become. He grabs the collar of the robe and yanks it down in a brisk snap, making my arms flip about as they leave the sleeves. The thing drops to the ground around my ankles and there is only a thin layer of panty between us.
He thrusts his hand past the front edge of my underwear, shoving it in between my upper thighs and rolling his wrist in such a way that it pushes my legs apart. His fingers engulf my pussy lips. Grabbing and pawing his way all over my sex, I can feel his fingertips on my labia, then the bottom of my ass, then my mound. The tug on my hair makes my mouth come open a little, and I squat slightly to meet his rough touch. He begins to press harder as he rubs, picking up a boiling, slimy bit of pussy juice and spreading over the surface of my swelling lips. Oh fuck, his hand is so big – feels so good – keep rubbing me there.
I put my hand on the mirror to support myself against the pressure he is exerting on me. I’m also beginning to feel a little dizzy from the primal massage I’m receiving. He finally zeros in on the entrance to my cunt and curls a couple of fingers inside. He beckons the moisture by painting the walls of my pussy in an ever-quickening motion. The horizon of an orgasm begins to appear when his fingers plop from my slit. He cups my lifted chin and I can taste the musky, salty, sweet tang of my own cum before his fingers even press onto my tongue. I suck them.
He’s yanking my panties to one side with the hand that used to be on my hair. My head nods forward so I can put his fingers more deeply into my mouth, when I finally feel his prick roaming. The tip is so warm, the skin so bristling with energy – hard, fleshy shivers run across my bottom. His hand moves up and down, up and down again – perhaps from his face to his cock? Then I realize he’s slathering his tip with his own spit, preparing to skewer my aching cunt.
“I’m gonna fuck your ass.” He barks.
Oh fucking hell, is his cock pushing it’s way into me already?! I was expecting to feel his tool punch into my pussy, but it is well on its way into my rectum. Oh god, it feels like a fist – stretching me – it feels like he’s going to split me apart!
“Aaauuuhhhhh,” I release a guttural sigh in response, my tongue vibrating against the fingers still grasping my face.
“Rub that fucking pussy – keep it wet down there!” a more take-no-prisoners lover I’ve never had, and it feels so wrong – so hot – so fucking right – I use my boob hand to rub my tender clit as he pushes in another inch, then back a half-inch, claiming more territory inside my ass with every thrust. I’m afraid we’ll break the mirror, so I move my hand to the wall and catch a glimpse of my face, a deep grimace of lust caught in mid-thrust, and just a sliver of his face behind me as he watches himself claim his prize. I look away and pinch my eyes shut against the exquisite pain.
He pauses long enough to fingerpaint more saliva around his rod and my hole, then gets to business. I can feel the edge of my stretched panty get caught in between his cock and my ass and roll partway into my hole. He grabs it and yanks it even harder away from the work at hand, biting into my skin and giving me yet another sensation to manage. A few strokes later he just pulls the thing until it rips – relieving the ligature on my thigh, but leaving a clump of fabric bouncing loosely between us. I’m going to rub my goddamn clit right off myself at this rate – fucking, fucking hell – FUCK!
“Fuck you, you selfish bastard!” I squeal when he grabs my hips with both hands and starts to pound my ass like a machine. I think I’m cumming, but he’s bouncing against my body so hard I’m not sure. Then I become sure.
“Ooohhhh, fuuuuuuck yeeeaahhh – FUCK MY ASS!” the blitzkrieg of my orgasm jumps up and makes itself known without doubt. I’m twitching and bucking, trying to escape the beast plunging in and out of me – and my hand wont let go of my convulsing pussy, like an electrocution I’m stuck. “Aaaaaeeeiii, fuuuck, fuuuck, fucking asshole! Oh god, god damn it!” My body betrays me – sending nothing but clear signals that he has won – I’ve been conquered.
I’m in mid-release when I feel how close he is, he is slapping the shit out of my cheek between his accelerating thrusts. When he grabs my hips I’ll know – OW! He grips my skin so tight I can feel the sensation pulling all the way across my belly and his pace goes haywire.
“Take my fucking cum!” he demands. I bend forward a little more and put my fingers on his sack just in time to feel the skin of his scrotum pucker and crinkle.
There’s nothing like the sensation of hot semen being pumped into my ass – I can feel so much more of his seed than when he cums in my pussy. I can feel his member pulse as he pushes it as deeply into me as he can jam it. I can feel his balls pressed against my sopping pussy lips as they jerk and squeeze the cum out. My anus wants to push it out at the same time it wants to pull it further in. It hurts so much – feathering violently into the spastic feelings of my own orgasm, yet not overwhelming them.
One of his hands returns to my hair. He’s just leaving his cock in there to prove a point, I think. Point conceded. He slowly slips out of me – taking more time leaving than entering – then pushes on my head. His cock is still flitting and twitching as he forces my head down to it. I kneel and open my mouth, eyes fixed on the shiny, slimy thing. Threads of dripping cum hang from the tip and I know he’ll act like he’s being stung by bees when I lay my hot tongue on it. He does his usual moaning and panting and jerking about, but now that I’ve got my mouth on him, tough shit – it’s my turn.
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