Her Work

He was relentless. She hadn't had this in so long and was glad she had some thing the audience could go back to, that would elicit a few pings from the computer, even on her day off. How lucky she could give it the title "Valentine's Day!"

She was becoming sore when he suddenly tightened to a strange rigidity and with a hand between her legs she grabbed his balls. His movements stuttered, he grunted and she felt the warmth of his cum as it spurted. She felt the slippery juice with her fingers as it spilled from inside and ran down her thighs. Ping.

His cock softened. He collapsed beside her to recover his breath and energy. They held each other, felt each other's sweat and murmured little things that meant so much but had no words.

"Happy Valentine's Day," she managed to whisper.

"Happy Valentine's," he responded and they laughed.

He caressed her breasts and she touched his cock. It was sticky. She thought nothing of it for a while. It was a slightly familiar kind of sticky and she sat up to look. She was horrified to see the blood, the raw wound where the skin had been rubbed off. He lay with no concern and when she urged him to look he still seemed untroubled.

"Be right in two days," he told her. She went to the bathroom, found some ointment and slathered it on. She found a bandage, wrapped it round and secured it in place with a few turns around his balls. It looked funny to see his balls with the bandages around them. He kept reassuring her but was pleased with the attention. And the computer pinged continuously.

He left soon after, he dressed- she didn't bother, they kissed and he was gone. Another date was set, she told him not to shave before and waved as he pulled out of the drive. With a toot of the horn and a poor gear change he was away. She closed the door, locked it and suddenly remembered her Valentine's roses, on the floor inside his ute.

She knew her room would be waiting, as she sat in her customary chair and logged in. The room still had a buzz of excitement. She turned on her cam and placed it in front of her.

"You look happy," was the first comment.

"I am," she replied, and added, "I haven't been screwed like that for so long!" She giggled. "My pussy feels wonderful."

"Can we see it?" some one asked and she redirected the cam, spread her legs and opened her pussy. Ping. She delved deep with her fingers and made the usual special show of her clit. Ping.

"Looks red,"

"I know!"

"We were with you all the way."

"No cream?" some one asked.

"What a wonderful Valentine's Day."

"No cream. Bandaging his wounds took too long." She giggled again. "Next Saturday we meet again at one," she replied and as she sent the message she felt a cold prickle flash through her.

"He doesn't know about us?"

"Not yet."

"You know, you had more than 37,000 peeps fucking you at one stage?"

"Wow! Makes me feel very special," she said.

"Can you rub one out for us now?"

*

Note. Ute is like a pick up truck. We aren't as strong as Americans and struggle to pick them up, particularly at speed.