London

Immediately, you close your mouth around the swollen bulb. I slap your clit again – harder this time – and you gasp again. I press farther into your mouth, about half of my cock now in your warm, wet mouth. Again, you close your lips and I feel you suck hungrily on my tool. I spank your clit again sharply, you gasp again and I press all of my manhood into your mouth forcing the head against the beginning of your throat. And then I begin to fuck your mouth. I slide back until the head of my cock is against the back of your teeth and then push forward until the head hits the back of your throat. In low tones, I tell you to open up; I tell you that I'm going to fuck your mouth like a cunt. I reach into your tangled head of hair, entwine my fingers and take a firm hold, and hold your head fast. My thoughts are verbalized now: I tell you how much your mouth feels like a cunt, how I love fucking your face, how you are going to get pumped and ridden and how I'm going to fuck your mouth until I explode down your throat. And you suck harder, nodding in agreement even as my cock pushes farther into your mouth. I suddenly pull out – just to tease you – and smile when I see you extend your tongue after me. You actually have a pained look on your face; I think that you think I'm being cruel. But when I push my member back into your mouth your expression softens and you again take me all the way into you.

My cock is throbbing now, aching for release. I can feel my balls begin to tighten, feel my stomach begin to contract and I know I can't last much longer. I whisper hoarsely that I need to cum. Your eyes widen, your mouth tightens around my shaft. I tell you loudly that I need to release, I need to let go. You nod, vigorously, and your tongue swirls around the head. I even feel your teeth scraping the sides, driving me to the edge. As the chorus swells and the music reaches its tumultuous heights I reach down, bury my fingers into your hair, drive my cock as far down your throat as it will go and I explode. I explode in fireworks and pyrotechnic flares and earth-rocking orgasmic quakes. I feel my balls constrict and my cum shoot out in such volume that I feel that I will drown you. However, you seem to drink it down effortlessly. You even clamp your lips tighter around my shaft and press your tongue harder against the head and milk every last drop from me.

It is quiet now. The only sounds are from the street below – the diesel backfires from the lorries making their late-night deliveries are but small pops in the silence. I lay on my back with you half-draped across me, your thigh over mine, your side pressed against me and your head on my chest. I feel you breath slowly and steadily and I smile, wondering where your dreams are taking you. Maybe next year we will have this same room. Maybe next year we will re-join to enjoy each other in much the same way. In the meantime, you have a husband and family to take care of in London and I have a corporation to run in the States. I push those thoughts aside; we have this week together and it is only the first night. There are miles to go before we sleep, as Robert Frost said. Miles and miles and miles...