Breaking in Anita Ch. 08

He crawled up, and kissed her; his mouth still wet from her lady juices.

By this time, Bryce had a throbbing hard on second to none, and needed to satisfy his lust. He did not want things to go cold, and before Annabelle had fully regained her composure, asked "Ready for doggy?" She turned over and moved to the middle of the bed, standing on her hands and knees, facing the mirror. Her knees were conveniently spread apart. They watched each other in the mirror as he approached her from behind, swiping his cock up and down her slit to wet it, before entering her slowly, inserting his cock all the way up to the hilt. She flashed him a toothy smile. In the reflected light of the mirror and the cream-colored carpet, he noticed that her mascara was slightly smudged, and most of the lipstick had worn off. If it was possible, she looked even more beautiful than she did before, but now in a wild, disheveled sort of way. Bryce returned her smile in the reflection, holding her by the hips, slowly sliding his shaft in and out of her, enjoying the mixture of sensory stimulations: the warm feeling around his cock, her soft skin under his hands, the sight of her hips under his hands sloping in to a narrow waist and back, ending in her brown curls across her shoulders and back, and the smell of her flowery perfume mixed with the hard-to-describe, but unmistakable smell of sex.

The room was quiet, save for the hum of the air conditioner, and small grunts from Bryce as he exhaled in rhythm with his slow forward thrusts. Annabelle must have felt his cock twitching, as she reached back with her right hand to stimulate herself. Bryce could feel her fingernails against the root of his shaft, stimulating him even more. His tempo increased, and in tandem, Annabelle's hand was frantically busy between her legs. She started groaning again, her low noises mixing with his. His orgasm overcame him like a sudden summer storm: he came like a firehose, squirting his load deep inside her. His whole body was gripped in a spasm, the contracting muscles in his neck pulling his head backwards. He held on to her hips, his cock buried deep in her warmth, feeling the spasms slowly subside. Annabelle's hand continued its frantic motion for another second or two, before she fell forward, her hips slipping from his hands.

Bryce stood on his knees for a second, looking at the reflection in the mirror. His cock was still standing upright. Anabelle lay prostrate in front of him, her torso and head hanging over the edge of the bed. He leant forward, and took her by the elbow to help her back onto the bed. Her falling forward caused the bra to slip down, and as he pulled her back, he saw that both breasts her had popped out. She lay on her side, not bothering to pull up the bra, and Bryce stared at exposed breasts and beautiful face, regaining his breath lying down next to her, one leg draped across her hips. She looked back at him, not saying a word, and he wondered what she was thinking.

Annabelle looked at the time on the bedside radio. "Your time's up; I had better get going". 9.55, read the green digits. She slipped out from underneath his leg, and hopped off the bed. As she turned around and padded to the bathroom, Bryce could see two streams of his cum running down the insides of her legs, and down her black stockings.

Annabelle spent a short while in the bathroom, and when she emerged, she was back in her sexy girl next door outfit, bag over her shoulder. She stopped to pick up her stilettos from under the coffee table, and he walked her to the door.

At the door, Bryce put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a kiss on the mouth.

She did not resist. "Thanks for everything, and thanks for seeing me at such short notice."

"Thanks for the gift". She patted her bag. "Good night."

And with that, Annabelle was gone.

Postscript: I decided to stay over in the hotel and drive from there straight to work the next morning; the office was closer to the hotel than my apartment, and I had only worn the fresh clothes for a few hours anyway. I was spent, and after a miniature bottle of bourbon from the minibar, I flopped onto the bed. Late that night, I heard my phone ping - it was a text message from Anita.

The message read: "Hi! Hope you are well. I've not heard from you since the weekend. Would you like me to come over on the weekend? - maybe pizza and videos again?

YFWB, Anita"