Guest House Ch. 07: Conclusion

He pulled her legs, while he remained inside of her, so that she was on her stomach. He then reached under her hips to lift her. Her ass was now up in the air with her head buried in the disheveled hotel blankets. He held onto her hips and began pile driving her. Slam, slam, slam. His hips met that delectable ass. Over and over again. She shoved her face into the blankets and let out a muffled scream of joy as another orgasm filled her body. He was close. His balls tightened and he felt ready to let loose. He wasn't going to pull out. Not for this one. Then he came in a torrent. He didn't even stop pumping and let the overwhelming feeling fill him. His semen dripped out from her pussy lips as they stretched against his girth. He felt his cock soften a bit but the sight of this woman he had fantasied about for so long allowed him to keep up the blood flow to his cock. She must have regained some composure because she crawled away from him and turned around to face him. Her face was a mixture of exhaustion and regret.

"We shouldn't have done this," she said. "It was like I couldn't control myself."

"Shhh," he said and got onto the bed with her. He laid down and brought her to him. She leaned against him, resting her head on his chest. "It's okay. It was just sex and no one will ever know."

Her eyes welled up but her hand reached down to his semi-hard cock and began to run a finger up and down it. They laid there for awhile in silence. One finger turned into two. Soon she began pumping up and down on his now hard cock. She stared, transfixed on his massive member. A mix up her juices and his cum made a milky white fluid that lubricated her hand. His own hand rubbed her back and he applied a little pressure to encouraged her to lift one leg over him so that she straddled him. Her pussy pinned his cock to his abdomen and she began sliding back and forth. He reached up and seized those perfect breasts in his hands, pinching her nipples. She dug her nails into his chiseled chest as her movements increased. She then lifted up and grabbed his cock, aiming at her entrance. It pierced her and she let a small gasp while ever so slowly descending. Soon his entire cock was once again inside her and she began bouncing up and down. He held onto her hips and drove her down after she bounced up. He had never seen a more beautiful sight in all his life. Everything about her was sculpted by an artist and he devoured this of this middle-aged goddess losing herself on top of him. As her orgasm came closer, her movements increased in intensity. Bounce after bounce had her head flying back in deep passionate moans.

"I...think...that...I'm...about...to..," she said through moans until her body shivered, her nails dug deep into his chest and she let out a loud yelp. Exhausted, she rolled off of him and laid on her back. "I've never had that happen before. It's like the flood gates opened."

He tried to contain a smile. He knew the pheromone spray released endorphins that trigger receptors in women's brains that stimulate their sexual urges. His cock still enraged, pointed straight up and she crawled back over to it. She ran her hands up and down it with both hands. Dylan laid back and enjoyed the hand job as she pumped harder and harder. Then he felt the warmth of her mouth take him in. Her tongued flicked over his sensitive tip and it sent shivers up his spine. Her bright red lips took him in with a slurp and he let out a deep moan. Her hands franticly worked at the base of his cock as her mouth caressed the top. He wouldn't last much longer and as she cupped his balls, they tightened shooting a blast of semen into her mouth which she gladly swallowed. Now it was his turn to lean back from exhaustion. She curled up next to him, throwing a leg over his and hugging his chest. He reached down and rested his hand on her ass. They laid like this for awhile with their breathing as their conversation.

"I need to get back," she said finally and got up. He watched in awe at her perfect figure as she put together her present for her husband that Dylan had unwrapped for him.

Dylan put on his underwear and when she was done reassembling her clothes, he ducked his head out the door.

"The coast is clear," he said and he opened the door all the way for her.

She walked by him gingerly and quickly slid the key card into her door. As soon as the door closed, he turned around and started packing. He jammed all his clothes into the suitcase. He grabbed his camera and put it away. After double checking to make sure he didn't leave anything behind, he went downstairs to the cab he had ordered.

"Where to?" the cabbie asked, as Dylan entered.

"To the nearest moving rental place."

Epilogue

Dylan stood next to a blue mail box, a stack of yellow envelops in his hands. Taking a deep breath, he opened the lid to the mailbox and dropped them in.

Sitting in his corner office and overlooking the downtown scenery, Carl leaned back in his office chair. Even though he had gotten back yesterday from the wedding, his body still needed to recover from his over indulgence of drinking. A soft knock on the door and Alice, his newest secretary, entered wearing a tight fitting business skirt that showed off plenty of her long legs. She dropped off a stack of letters on his desk.

"Here you go Mr. Dubroski," she said and turned around to leave.

He watched the sway of her ass as she closed the door behind her. He then picked up the letters and thumbed through them. One stuck out. A heavy yellow envelope with Dylan's name as the sender. He tore open the envelope and pulled out a stack of photos with a photocopied letter attached to them with a paperclip. He picked it up and read it. It was a denial of payment slip from his insurance company to a Martha Raport from several years ago. As he put the denial of payment form down he flipped through the photos in the envelope. One was of his daughter Samantha on her knees and naked while taking a massive cock into her mouth. Fury flooded into him and he flipped through several more photos. His other daughter Tara inside a tent riding on top of a smiling Dylan. Then he saw what he didn't want to believe. His wife, Cindy in a sexy lingerie, taking him doggy style, sucking his cock, and then riding him. His chair tipped over as he got to his feet. Then his door burst open and several of his colleagues entered, letters in hand.

"What the fuck is this?" yelled Mike. "Your fucking tenant sent me pictures of him fucking my wife!"

"He did the same to Kim," shouted Steve. He also had a letter in his hand.

Carl's phone began to ring. Richard was calling him. He reluctantly answered.

"I'm going to kill that fucker!" yelled Richard on the other line.

Carl was surprised that he didn't get pulled over as he flew past several red lights and screeched to a halt in front of his house. As he ran down the driveway to the guest house, he picked up a shovel. The two other men behind him had tire irons in their hands as the followed. Cindy rushed out of the back door.

"What's going on?" she said.

"Get back in the fucking house," Carl shouted and took the stairs two at a time.

He kicked the door open and the three men rushed in. Television screens were placed throughout the now empty house. On the screens looped film of Dylan fucking his daughters, wife, and friend's wives. The screams of pleasure filled the room. Carl swung the shovel through the set with his wife on it. Sparks flew. The other men took their anger out on the screens but the house was plastered with photos of their naked loved ones in compromising positions. They began tearing down the pictures and letting them fall to the floor.

"Where did that bastard go?" yelled Richard. "When I get my hands on that fucker!"

"You'll have to wait until I get done with him," Carl said, bending down and tearing a photo of his youngest daughter taking his house guest's cock doggy-style. "I have first dibs on him."

Dylan Raport took a short drive to a small and out of the way cemetery. There in the back corner, he knelt down and placed a dandelion next to a simple slate tombstone, his mother's favorite flower.

"Hello, mom. Hope you are doing well?" he said, holding back the lump in his throat that wanted to get out. "I miss you. I just wanted to tell you that it is over."

He was never one with words and just let his emotions wane. He then got up, dusted off his knees, and went to his car. He opened his trunk and pulled out his white lab coat. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and dialed Dr. Stevenson.

"Hello Dr. Stevenson, this is Dylan. I know, I know. Do you think that I could swing by the lab later today?" he asked as he got into his car and drove away.