Aunt Rita - 1 Year Anniversary

Hello Readers,

Tonight is the night of Aunt Rita and Dave's 1 year sex-versary. I'm breaking the celebrations over two parts. Also, this is the first time I am writing a story in first person - this time as Aunt Rita.

Look forward to your feedback.

***

Dave was getting impatient, as usual, but not quite as nervous as I was. It had been a few months since my fateful night at this very hotel on new years' eve, and just the drive up to its grand entrance was giving me the jitters.

To be honest, while I had never truly celebrated anniversaries per se, I was quite enchanted by the rituals that surrounded it. I had watched movies around this theme and had heard stories from friends regarding how they'd spent this evening, but life had never given me such an opportunity. Not up until tonight.

Frankly, I wasn't sure that this qualified as an anniversary. It was this day, a year back, when I had called Dave over to move some furniture in my room. What would have been an otherwise uneventful afternoon between a young boy and his mothers' friend, turned out to be a decision that I still haven't quite made my peace with.

I can still remember the look in his eyes, soaking in my sweaty cleavage, as beads of perspiration ran down my neck in the midst of the summer. I wasn't sure I still had it in me to fire up a young stud, but I somehow wish I hadn't bent over more than was needed to lift up both the chest of drawers, and his spirits.

From that day till date, my pious apartment had turned into a chamber of moans and expletives. Not a day had gone by when my garbage bags didn't have more than a few cans of beer and used condoms, although the latter could fluctuate based on the impatience and desperation between us. Even my gynecologist was surprised at my diligence about personal health.

I had rarely worn any undergarments, as they'd either been shredded to pieces or ended up in his bottom drawer at home. The only undergarments I was allowed to wear, albeit not for long, were the ones he had chosen for me, revealing more than they could ever conceal.

However, the fashion in which tonight presented itself wasn't exactly textbook stuff. I was sitting in a car with a man, half my age, who had dressed me (quite literally) up in an ensemble that even mannequins would dare to wear. The fact, that he had purchased this rather revealing dress using my own credit card, made me party to this personal misadventure.

The dress was gorgeous, and had he picked it for someone his age, it would have perhaps been more befitting. But to wear an off-shoulder gown, that had a slit running up my right thigh, all the way to my waist, was a bit more than I had bargained. While roaming around without undergarments in the comfort of my apartment was the norm with Dave around, to arrive for a dinner in such a state made me very uncomfortable.

I was glad that there was a bag in the trunk of the car that contained our change for the night. But given that it was Dave who had it packed it, I was almost sure that I wouldn't find what I badly needed to cover my curves.

It wasn't quite my fault that I hadn't packed my bag myself; I was planning to do so after my evening shower anyway. My fault was that I had given the spare keys to my apartment to Dave, and had I expected him to arrive not till an hour after I was ready to receive him.

I suppose, with the liberties I have afforded him over the months past, I shouldn't have been as surprised when he jumped me, right when I got out of the shower this evening. As I wasn't expecting company, I had simply covered my long hair in a towel, leaving the moisture on the rest of my body for nature to absorb. I was neatly waxed all over, except for the trimmed bush above my slit, just as he had left it the night before, when he had played barber for some twisted reason.

Dave being Dave, not one to listen, had me bent over my bed in no time, and in seconds, I could see the familiar sight of my breasts swinging under me, as if shaking off any remnants of my recent shower. I'm glad that there was still some wetness in my channels before he pounced on me, as taking his monstrosity up my rear was still a painful exercise without any lubrication, despite months of being accommodative.

I had also learnt that his grip around my waist would get tighter with every thrust, and I was usually left with marks on my handles once he was done, like this evening. He had, however, developed the kind courtesy of wiping his mess clean once he had withdrawn, and today was no different. I had considered taking another shower, but I knew we'd essentially end up in bed soon after, and hence gone ahead with the natural musk of his dried juices on my tender spine.

"Rita, the valet is waiting! Let's go," I heard him say, as he opened the car door. I gripped onto my purse and tried to shimmy out of the car, not sure if I should use my other arm to cover my visible cleavage or to pull the slits of my gown together. I successfully managed to do the latter, scooping myself out of the bucket seat, trying to balance on the high heels of my newly 'gifted' sandals.

Unfortunately, for me, I landed right in the arms of the valet, who was standing a bit too close for comfort, despite the door being sufficiently ajar for me to squeeze out. His hands were on my supple ass for longer than they should have, as he tried to steady my posture, while I flapped my arms to catch his shoulder and retain my purse.

"Thank you," I replied meekly, as I clumsily stepped away from his embrace, trying to dismiss the sight of his boner that had formed underneath his tight pants.

"Hey aunty, are you ok?" Dave asked, grabbing hold of my hand, with a mischievous smile on his face.

"I'm fine. Let's go," I replied, trying to pace away from the scene of the crime.

"I think this young man deserves a tip for breaking your fall. I don't have any change on me." Dave pretended to pat his pockets, but I knew well that this was all a playful sham.

Reluctantly, I turned around and hobbled over to the salivating valet, who was trying to soak in the sight of my bouncing breasts. I handed over the first bill I could find, as I was more embarrassed the state of my current affairs, than the cost of my graceful exit.

I didn't wait for Dave to join me, and walked right through the revolving doors, to the elevator shafts across the large hall. "Aunty, why don't you go up and freshen up before dinner? I have a call to make and will need another 30 minutes," I heard him say, as I pressed the button to call the elevator.

"Can't you take it from the room?" I asked, beckoning him with my pleading eyes.

"You know I can't," he said in a whisper, almost stepping on my painted toes. "I won't be able to do anything sensible with you around," he said, licking his lips while he peered down my gown.

"Alright. I'll see you upstairs. Come soon," I said, entering the elevator without giving him a second look.

"Good evening, Ms. Rita," I heard the bell-hop say, I froze in fright. The elevator door shut almost instantly. How could I not recognize this attendant, who had had his way with me in this very hotel?

"The same room?" he asked with a wretched smile, and I simply nodded.

He pressed the button to our floor, and turned around to face me, with the smugness of man who knew what was in his control. I wanted to take charge, but something told me that anything that I said or did at this stage would only command the sort of attention I had been trying to avoid all evening.

"You look nice today. Is this a new dress?" he asked, latching onto my every curve with his eyes. I chose not to answer, the only thing in my control, given the situation. "The air-conditioning must be very strong today. You've got two little bullets sticking out of your chest," he said with a sketchy grin as I gave him a cold stare.

We had twenty more floors to go, and the elevator could not move more slowly, I thought. Just when the silence was getting a bit out of hand, I noticed his feet move towards me. I looked up to find him standing an inch away from me, and before I could shift my frame away, he quickly snatched my purse out of my hand. "Here, ma'am, let me carry this for you," he said, just as I was finding the right words to scream.

I was short on words and breath, but thankfully the elevator reached our designated floor, and he took a step back immediately. "That's Ok. I'll carry it to my room. It's not heavy," I replied, trying to offer pointless reasoning to a man who was shameless adjusting his erection under his pants, in front of me.

"No Rita," he replied, calling me by my name. "Customer service is of utmost importance to us. After you," he said, pointing to the corridor.

I wanted to get out of the elevator before the doors shut and followed his command, with the clickety-clack of my heels more pronounced on the marble floor of the elevator. "This way," he said, holding my hand and pulling me into the opposite direction.

If there was a moment to scream, this was it. I could have easily gathered a crowd and pointed to the cameras overhead, to prove that he had manhandled me. But then, he could have easily pointed to the same cameras, to show the recordings of the fateful night, where it would have been fairly difficult to explain why he was emerging from my room at all odd hours. And what if Dave found out?

I recoiled my hand away from his greasy palms, and followed after him, as he picked up his pace to reach the room. He pulled out his master key, just as I was about to ask him for my purse and slid it down to hear the familiar beep that the door had been unlocked.

Holding the door open, he signaled for me to step in. "Thank you for your service. We'll call you if we need anything." My decibel levels were so low that even I could barely hear what I was saying. I did, however, manage to squeeze past him, to enter the room.

"Oh no, Rita. I must ensure that everything in the room is well in order for your comfort," he said, shutting the door behind him. The next twenty minutes were a blur to me.

I tried to resist him, I really did try, by slowly walking backwards, as if my feet had eyes of their own under the soles of my shoes. He walked with me with at the same pace, keeping the same distance, unzipping his pants without breaking eye contact with me. By the time I had reached the edge of the bed, his erection was out of its packing and pointing at me with purpose.

As he closed in on me, gently and watchfully, I managed to stun him with a slap across his face. But it was as though I was stunned by my own aggression, and I said, "sorry", not realizing why I said so.

He was smacked pretty hard, I thought, but I could only see a smile on his face. With his thumbs, he pulled my gown down over my breasts in a flash, exposing the heaving pieces of flesh to feast his eyes. I felt compelled to offer them to him, almost as a token of apology, but his eyes were already running to the slit of my gown.

Much like this time last year, I pulled up my gown and held it by the waist, feeling the cool air of the room on my burning vagina. It was only a matter of seconds before I was lying on the bed, with the nameless attendant buried deep inside me, filling up every inch of my wanton canal.

His name badge grazed against my breasts, each time he came eye level with me between his long but powerful thrusts, to eat out the coloring off my lips. His passion was overwhelming, like a man possessed, and I submitted myself entirely to his every demand.

My moans were loud while the tears streamed down my flushed cheeks, as I experienced a mix of pain and pleasure that was difficult to describe. My eyes were sealed shut, as I couldn't imagine looking at the person who was rocking my world this very instant, and yet remained anonymous to me.

He came in large volumes into my unprotected womb, and on any other day, I would have been worried. But I was way past the line of dignity, and tonight was nothing but another episode in my transformation from a virtuous widow to an amorous cougar. I was surprised that I was actually kissing him harder than he would have ever expected, and long after he had slid out of me. I had never kissed anyone with a moustache, but somehow, it never came in the way of our glued lips.

By the time he eventually got off of me, I was nothing more than a searing naked body, with my gown bunched around my waist, and thick white fluids seeping out of my little hole down south. The attendant pulled out my gown from under my butt, and wiped his shining member clean, thankfully using the inner side of my expensive dress. He wrapped up the proceedings by kissing the stubble over my groin, sending a tingling sensation down my legs.

My mind alerted me that Dave would be up any minute, but my body was too weak to collect itself. I noticed the attendant zip up and straighten his shirt. He then disappeared for a few minutes, making me wonder if he was stealing money from my purse. But he soon emerged, throwing a towel over my groin, after using it to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

He blew a kiss at me, and I chose to look away, still unsure of how to process this moment. "I'll see you once again. Don't leave without meeting me," he whispered, and it was a few words short of, "or else". I looked away long enough to hear the door open and shut again, with nothing but silence around me.

I mustered the energy to get myself onto my feet, and managed to pull my gown in both directions, covering the assets that were in great demand lately. My vagina was still oozing fluids, and I had to hold the towel against my opening to ensure that there were no remnants for Dave to trace back to the events of this quick session.

My next task was to discard this towel out of plain sight, and I chose to toss it under the bed. My face was a mess, smeared with his saliva and my tears, and I looked like the Joker from a movie I couldn't recall. Dave has shown me so many movies over the months past; it's hard to remember them all.

I found my purse sitting on the bathroom shelf, and it took me a few minutes to wash and touch-up. I tried to dispel any thoughts of operating like a prostitute, although my actions were not far from that colorful profession.

A knock on the door brought me back to the reality of my being, and I quickly exited the bathroom to answer the impatient guest.

"Hey, aunty, I was waiting for you in the lobby," Dave said, sounding a bit relaxed as opposed to being irritated with me.

"Don't worry, Sir. You can order room service. The restaurant will be closing soon," I heard a familiar voice, and was aghast to see the attendant standing behind him.

"Thank you, Daniel," Dave said, giving a name to the face. "I'll go freshen up. Aunty," Dave spoke over his shoulder, "maybe a special something for the service?"

I wanted to throw up on this man, but I did not want to create a scene. With my purse in hand, I dug out a bill and handed it over to the attendant. To my utter surprise, he pulled me forward by the wrist and locked me in a deep kiss.

I was shocked at his growing confidence and could do nothing more than beat his chest with my flailing arms. Standing in the middle of a hotel corridor, here I was sucking the breath out of a lowly attendant, while his finger had found its way inside my tortured asshole, albeit over my flimsy gown.

I finally managed to disengage from him, pushing him away from me, dropping the bill to the ground. I turned around as quickly as I could, but couldn't avoid the slap on my fleshy buttocks, as I tried to close the door behind me. The only positive side to the backhanded smack was that my gown came out of my crack.

My head was spinning as I propped against the door, trying to catch my breath and collect myself. I was unravelling by the second, and this 'anniversary' was turning out to be another night where I was falling to depths I never knew existed.

"Hey baby, what are you doing guarding the door? Come here," Dave said, covered in towel, as he walked out of the bathroom.

I was quite inclined to simply turn around and go home, but again, I did not want to disappoint or surprise Dave with my erratic behavior. I slid the loose chain into the door latch, securing the entrance to prevent any more unsolicited visits. I dropped my purse to the floor and walked over to the bed, hoping to straighten my back and get some rest.

"Wow, clothes really don't do you any justice. The entire hotel staff is struggling with hard-ons with your mere presence." Dave pulled my gown down, exposing my naked breasts for his consumption. I let him, too withdrawn to protest.

"Man, one year since I got a taste of them, and they still make me go wild," he said, cupping them with his hands as he snuggled close to me.

"Dave, I'm a bit tired. Do you mind if I get a few minutes before the food arrives?" I was seeking the pointless permission of a young lad, who was crushing my breasts with one hand and raising my gown with the other.

"Oh, you don't have to do a thing. I'm just having my appetizers before the main course," he sniggered, stuffing two fingers deep into my vagina. "Just relax, aunty."

His touches and movements had become tender, and as always, I felt my legs spread for him without any further provocation from him. He was nibbling on my tits, gently pulling them up as far as they could without causing a crease on my lips, a sign that he now clearly understood signified pain.

My fingers ran through his hair as he managed to get me to my second orgasm for the night. I was moaning into his mouth when my jets slid off his fingers and landed on the base of the bed. He had mastered the controls of my body, and I had stopped holding back my emotions or my fluids in the throes of our passion.

I turned to face him, to look at the handsome face of the boy who had made me his every fantasy. "Why did you dress me up if we weren't going to be stepping out of the room and I'd be naked all the time?" I asked him, stroking his erection under the towel.

Dave gently kissed me on my lips. "It really turns me on to see how other people ogle at you. From your breasts popping out of your dress," he said, kissing my mounds, "to your large, jiggling butt in the tight gym pants," he added, mashing my flesh, "to the camel toe on your pants," he finished, spreading my glistening pussy lips, "you command to be fucked royally, every second of the day."

I gushed as he lovingly kissed the nape of my neck. "My butt is only large because you keep slapping it with your hands and thighs," I said, biting my lips, as he scratched my rear.

This was all the invitation he needed, as he gently flipped me onto my stomach and slid a pillow underneath my groin. I felt his wet towel land over my face, and my gown over my back, as he picked me up by my waist. He had learnt to use my own vaginal lubrication to lace my asshole, and tonight was no different.

Twenty minutes on, Dave was still hammering me when we heard the knock on the door. It was the second time this evening when he had availed of my rear facilities, only this time it was longer strokes and fewer cuss words aimed at me.

He emptied all of himself inside me, landing over my burning body, spent and satisfied. The knocks on the door had subsided, as whoever had brought up our dinner was amply clear that the occupants of the room were busy. If our moans didn't make it clear to the visitor, the calls to the Almighty would have certainly established the actions on the other side of the door.

"I'm going in for a shower, baby. Would you like to join?" he whispered through the tresses covering my ear. Dave eased himself out of me, and gave each butt-cheek a peck, a ritual that he had developed recently.