Cinnamon's Secrets Ch. 02

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Cinnamon spends day out seducing a stranger.
3k words
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29.4k
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Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 12/27/2004
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Within an hour after I had enjoyed a magnificent orgasm in bed with my pretty little Cuban maid, Maggie (See "Cinnamon's Secrets, Chapter 1"), I was beginning to feel horny again. I decided to venture out of the condo and see who I might find to satisfy the nymphomaniacal itch that I felt in my pussy. It was a cool autumn day in New York, so I put on a some close-fitting slacks that showed off my lovely ass to its best and an NYU sweat shirt with no bra. The shirt was just the right size not to be baggy, so it showed off my jutting breasts in a seductive way. Although casual, I was dressed just smartly enough to fit in to most places for lunch or drinks.

While obsessed with being fucked, I much prefer that it always be with someone new. I am not looking for entangling relationships and once I have fucked a guy I usually don't want to do him again. I think of each new cock as a conquest, I suppose, and am always looking for a new one. Its just the way I am. This makes it a little more difficult to find a suitable stiff cock every day, but in a city as big as New York that's not really so hard.

I knew my chances were pretty good up the street at the ritzy Benjamin Hotel. I walked into the bar next to the restaurant. It was just past 11 a.m. and the place was nearly deserted. A couple of businessmen were in serious conversation at a table and there was only one guy seated at the bar, nursing what looked like an old fashioned. He was middle-aged, pretty good looking in his probably Brooks Brothers suit. I put him in my sights. I sidled onto the barstool a couple down from him, letting my long legs dangle with my knees apart so he had a good view of my crotch. The bartender approached and I ordered a screwdriver. When the man at the bar looked over toward me I smiled slightly. My screwdriver arrived and I raised it to my lips, sipping a little orange juice and gin into my mouth as I turned my head to face the stranger again.

"Hi," he said.

"Hello," I answered with a sort of quizzical look at him. "Do I know you?"

"No, you don't," he said, "but don't let that stop you. We both seem to be alone here."

"How do you know I'm not meeting someone here," I responded coyly.

"Are you?

"No, I'm not," I said simply.

The man moved to the barstool next to mine and asked me what my name was. "Cindy," I answered. "And yours?"

"I'm Steve," he smiled. "Pleased to meet you. Where're you from?"

"I live in Manhattan . . . local, girl you know," was my response. "What about you?"

Steve launched into a short biography of his life, reflecting a certain self-centeredness that I found unattractive, but his cock might still overcome that deficiency. After getting his MBA from Ohio State he was working as a financial adviser in Cincinnati and had come to the Big Apple for a job interview with a financial house here. The interview had gone well this morning, he thought, although he would know more when he met the boss man for dinner tonight. In the meantime, he was just marking time. He looked me straight in the eyes as if to tell me that he though I might help him pass the time 'til then.

I took a long sip of my screwdriver before lying to him that I was a grad student at NYU, studying biology. "I'm very interested in human anatomy," I added, touching my knee against his thigh. He wondered what I was doing in The Benjamin, so I told him I had come up here on an errand for the professor I work for and just stopped in for a late morning toddy.

"Would you like to have lunch with me?" he queried. "The restaurant here is very good."

"It's a little early for me. I had a late breakfast," I demurred. "Are you staying here?"

"Yes, its very nice." My hand was stretched out on the bar and Steve noticed my engagement and wedding rings. "I see you're married," he commented.

"I see you are, too," I shot back, pointing to the gold band on his left hand. "Does it bother you that I'm married?"

"Well, . . . no," he stammered. "I just wondered . . . ," his voice trailed off.

I placed my hand on the inside of his thigh, not far above his knee, and smiled at him. Then I said, "I'm one of those desperate wives who doesn't get enough from my husband."

"Really?" He sounded interested, and then he added, "I can relate to that, because I really don't get enough from my wife." This opened up a soliloquy from him about how his wife didn't fully appreciate him and how she really didn't want to move to New York and how, if he got the job he was interviewing for, he might have to come without her.

My hand ran up his thigh a little further as I noticed a nice bulge in his trousers. "Would you like another drink?" he asked.

"I'd rather see the view from your room," I answered boldly, tired of making conversation and eager to exploit that bulge in his pants. He got the message and apparently approved. He signed both our bar bills, scribbling his room number on them.

"Shall we go now?" he asked impatiently. I smiled and slid off the barstool, taking hold of his hand as we walked toward the elevators. Steve seemed a little nervous, but also eager, and I knew my fingers would be touching his cock very soon.

Alone in the elevator, he punched the button for the eleventh floor and the cubicle started up. I turned toward him and moved my face very close to his while my hand roamed over his butt. I was as tall as he was and our lips brushed against each other and then were pressing together easily before we reached the third floor. By the time we got to eleven we were in a deep embrace with each of our tongues massaging the other. Steve had both his hands on my ass and was fondling it vigorously as I pressed my pussy against his rock hard shaft.

Room 1136 was not far away as we almost broke into a gallop to get there. Steve inserted his plastic key into the door slot, which gave him the green light to enter. He pushed me in the doorway ahead of him. The broad windows revealed a view of little more than other skyscrapers, with perhaps just a green glimpse of Central Park not too far away. I turned around and in a quick maneuver threw off my sweatshirt, revealing to him my firm, round breasts, with their hard stiff nipples projecting toward him like pistols ready to fire. He shed his jacket just about as quickly and moved toward me like a magnate to steel. He could not resist my breasts and his mouth closed quickly over my right nipple, sucking it into his mouth with his teeth nibbling at it and sending ripples of electric pleasure through my torso all the way down into my pussy. His fingers found my left nipple and added to my erotic gratification he kneaded it between his fingers with some skill.

My own fingers caressed and fucked his ears. I could feel the juices running in my pussy and he might well have brought me to an orgasm with his breast sucking. But I wanted his cock and I wanted him nude. I pulled his face up to my own and began to kiss him again, while at the same time loosening his tie and playfully pulling it around his neck. I unbuttoned his shirt as I felt him pushing my slacks down over my butt, discovering that I wore no panties. The slacks fell to my ankles and I stepped out of them as I licked off my sandals, leaving me totally naked with this stranger. He wore a tank top undershirt which I yanked upward. We broke off our French kiss as he pulled it over his head and off. I grabbed his belt buckle and jerked it loose, pulled his pants open and let them drop. He was now almost as naked as I, except for his silly boxer shorts decorated with a woman's red lips all over them. His cock poked them way out just left of center. He was hot now and I was in a frenzy. As I grabbed hold of his hard, stiff cock we fell onto the bed and were all over each other.

His cock had come free through his fly now and I grabbed it again. It looked purple and angry so I soothed it with my lips, licking off the precum that was oozing from the pee hole. I cupped his hairy balls in my hand and caressed them gently as I moved my mouth up over his belly to his hairy chest. "Fuck me! Fuck me now!" I demanded and rolled onto my back.

Steve peeled off his shorts and lost no time in kneeling between my spread legs. I raised my legs around his torso and pulled him toward my wet pussy. The itch deep in my cunt wanted him desperately and I helped him drive his purple shaft through the lips of my pussy and deep into me. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh," I moaned with delight as his penis dove to the depths of my cunt and began to pump. I responded by pushing my pelvis up to him and joined in his rhythmic stroking as his cock easily glided in and out of my fuck hole. "Ohhhh Yes! That's good," I purred and felt ripples of pleasure flow from my pussy.

Steve, supporting himself above me on his hands, was only occupied with his own pleasure now as he increased the tempo of his fucking, pumping his cock faster and faster as he approached his climax. I was already there, however, and hot waves rolled through me as I shouted to him, "YES, YES, DON'T STOP FUCKING ME, YES, KEEP FUCKING. Ohhhhhhhhh yesssss." I could feel my cunt contracting over his still pumping cock as hot streams of my sex juice flooded over it and out onto my thighs. I went through several waves of orgasm and was nearly unconscious in rapture before his own cock finally exploded and shot its own hot cream into my cunt. He collapsed onto my chest, burying his face into my breast.

I remember that he rolled off me moaning about how good it was as I drifted into a warm afterglow of satisfied ecstasy. I guess I fell asleep for I awoke to a knock on the door. Steve had a hotel bathrobe on and he threw me another as he went to answer the door. I had hardly slipped into it when a waiter rolled in a room service cart and set up lunch for us. Over grilled chicken salads Steve decided to tell me more about his family life and particularly about his problems with his wife. I could have cared less and became increasingly annoyed as he droned on. This guy had a fine cock, but there was little else to recommend him.

By the time we were sipping our coffee I was ready for more of that cock. I looked at him squarely in the eyes as I peeled off my bathrobe and said to him, "If she's such a bitch why don't you treat her like a bitch?" I got up from the table and jumped onto the bed on all fours taunting him with, "C'mon, Steve, you can practice on me. Give it to me doggie style."

Steve looked up and couldn't miss my shaved-clean pussy staring at him from below my ass. I knew he couldn't resist it and within a moment he had mounted me from behind and was fucking me to both our delights. His slow, long strokes fired up my cunt once more and I found myself pushing my ass back into him to let him get maximum penetration. I could look back under my belly and see his big balls swinging freely as his cock banged away inside me. His hands began to massage my tits as he grunted with each forward thrust of his stiff cock into my pussy. I could feel his hot cock blazing. As his own emotions rose, his pumping action became more violent. "Fuck you, you cunt! You BITCH CUNT!" he shouted as he penetrated deeper and deeper. "BITCH CUNT, YOU ARE MY BITCH, CUNT" he shouted with rising passion. My juices were flowing again and I was nearing another orgasm. It seemed like I could feel every swollen vein in his penis as it slid along my hypersensitive vaginal walls and became more wonderful with each stroke. "YES! YES!" I shouted uncontrollably. "FUCK ME! FUCK ME HARDER!" He was sweating now and I could feel that he was tiring, but I was already climaxing and I screamed with glee as my warm juices flooded through my pussy and over his stiff organ. He came almost immediately then and moaned with pleasure as he pulled out of me and fell beside me on the bed, still mumbling about me being his bitch cunt.

I wasn't finished with Cincinnati Steve quite yet, however. I had a powerful urge to make Steve bring me off one more time, but this time I wanted his tongue instead of his penis. His flaccid cock lay limp along his thigh, still wet from our cum. I ran my tongue along the length of it, then licked his cockhead, especially along his circumcision ring. At first nothing happened, but then it began to return to life, stiffening a little, and then some more as I sucked the head between my lips. I tickled his balls and moved my mouth down over the shaft, loving the feel of the cock stiffening within my mouth. He moaned softly and I bobbed my mouth up and down, feeling the organ throb a little in appreciation. I let it loose and now it stood straight up a good seven inches.

"Now its your turn, Stevie," I cooed as I rose up and straddled his body so that my pussy was directly in front of his face. I held his head in my hands and lifted it up against my wet pussy. "Eat me, Steve, suck my cunt like you would your bitch wife. That will make her behave, I promise you." I felt his tongue lick at my labia and then penetrate into the wet gash. He was tentative at first, and I think not very experienced, but he kept at it. I reached back and jerked on his cock to encourage him. In time he got into the rhythm better, especially as I moaned and called for him to get his tongue up on my clit and to suck me. Although he was a bit clumsy, he still got me going as I became hotter myself. "That's it, Stevie, that's the way you treat a bitch cunt wife. Ohhhhhhhh YES. MAKE ME CUM, Steve!" That brought new enthusiasm from him and I could feel his mouth eagerly sucking my juices and licking my clit. It took little more for me to explode once more into orgasmic ecstasy that justified all my urging to him.

I didn't hang around much longer. Steve wanted my phone number and gave me his card, apparently believing that this was the beginning of a wonderful friendship. I told him I had to be more discreet than that, but wished him well with his interview at dinner and told him I would call him in Cincinnati next week to find out if he was moving to New York, but I knew I never would. Steve was history for me. Time to move on. I really didn't care much for Steve, but had to admit that he satiated my pussy pretty well.

It was already late afternoon when I got back to our condo. I soaked in the spa for awhile and then took a long shower, training the hand hose with its hard, fine spray all over the erogenous parts of my body. Sitting back on the bench in the shower compartment I spread my legs and with my fingers pulled apart my labia as I directed the stiff flow of water onto my clitoris. It felt divine and I didn't stop until I had cum again.

I sprayed on some cologne in the right places and dressed. I walked into the living room and found Charles with a pitcher of margaritas. He poured one for me. I took a sip and rewarded him with a peck on the cheek. He asked if I had a good day. I smiled and said, "Yes, I did, fairly nice," but offered no details. "How about you?" I added.

Charles then began an unusual discussion of his office situation, which continued through dinner. He was 68 now, and things were not ideal with the corporation. He was thinking that perhaps it was time to step down, to retire perhaps, or at least semi-retire, for he was still a member of many boards and important committees. Charles had always been something of a workaholic, so I found this line of conversation quite unusual for him. It was disconcerting in a way, for what would I do if Charles was free to be around all the time? It raised all kinds of questions! He said he hadn't decided anything definitive yet, but was thinking about it and wanted to know what I thought.

"Well, Charles love, you know whatever you do is fine with me," I purred. "You certainly deserve to retire if you want to."

(To be continued in Chapter 3. Let me know what you think should happen.)

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2 Comments
widowedidiotwidowedidiotover 2 years ago
Boring...

I read this two chapters but I didn't see anything remarkable or new, just a repetition of the same old stories. I couldn't understand why the author didn't care what people thought of his writing, I see now. Sometimes, if you listen to your readers, you can see whats missing or where you're tripping and learn to write better stories that your readers will really like and recommend to other readers. otherwise your reading pool is going to start to shrink to where production will start refusing to carry your writings anymore. But you don't care. Right?

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 11 years ago
A pleasant afternoon

Nice erotic description of a pleasant afternoon for you. Its clear that you love to fuck.

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