Nick Gets What He Wantsbynotnice66©
It is the first meeting of the year for the community child care centre. All parents and kids are invited. Being a single mother with a four year old, I am there with my son, Troy. I need to go back to full time work and he is old enough to be in care five days a week. I know a couple of the mums and recognise a few others from the park and the shops. It's interesting to meet the husbands of those that have them and fill out the picture on each as we sip our wine and nibble nuts.
Then I see a couple come in. She seems to know the staff – must have older kids who have been through before – and immediately engages the coordinator in conversation, a worried look on her face. Her husband is a small nuggetty man, dark complexion, good head of hair, snappy dresser. He looks around the room, sizing up each woman. His eyes turn to me and zero in on my tits before lifting. He sees that I have been watching him and smiles. I give him a neutral stare. I recognise him as one of those guys that will fuck anything in a skirt – and probably most things in trousers. He shrugs and continues his appraisal of the flesh here tonight. I wait for him to return to me. Which he does, smiling when he sees himself being appraised in turn, confident that he now has a target for his charms. Well, maybe he does. I could use a bit of loving; a bit of male company. Christ, just a decent screw would be good!
Troy is getting on OK with the other kids so I take my glass of wine and step outside by the sand pit. There are two or three others out there smoking and I fish in my hand bag for a cigarette. I have just got one out when Mr Smooth is there flicking a lighter for me. I ignore him, find my own lighter and take a nice long drag. He is not the slightest bit put out and insists on engaging me in conversation. A good sign – I like a guy with persistence; I like the games you can play with them.
He tells me that he is a senior sales manager in a big import export firm (yawn), loves to drive his BMW series 3 down the coast on weekends (compensating for something?), works out three days a week and plays competitive tennis (save it for the locker room), and travels to Paris a couple of times a year (no doubt faxing ahead to the brothels that he's on his way). I fend off his questions with grunts or silence, though give him a bit of encouragement with my eyes. He picks it up and asks me for my number. I ignore him, finish my ciggy and go back inside. My friend Patty has witnessed the whole thing and gives me a smile (half sympathy half congratulations) saying it was good to see me slap down that shark and he won't bother me again.
I think she's wrong (god knows she's got a pathetic track record where men are concerned). If I'm as good a judge of male ego as I used to be, then I've merely challenged his ability to 'pull'. I'm counting on it. Sure enough, when I get Troy and leave, I hear him telling his wife that he's got to move the beamer before he gets a ticket. I'm twenty metres down the street when he comes out and trots up behind me. 'Karen,' he says.
'How do you know my name?' I ask, turning and giving him a steady look.
'Saw it on the register,' he says smugly. And if he saw the register he also saw my address. Resourceful, I think to myself. Another good sign. I give him a slightly hostile stare. 'Nick,' he says, introducing himself and holding out his hand, giving me a long look up and down. I allow him a tight smile but don't take his hand. Troy is pulling on me, saying mummy, mummy. I turn and walk on. 'I'll see you round,' Nick says to my retreating back and I raise a hand slightly but don't turn.
It is Saturday morning and I am lazing about. Troy has his fortnightly weekend with his father and even though it is after 9am, I am in bed reading the paper. There's a knock at the door. It is Nick and I stare at him there in his tennis gear, fit looking and tanned, legs and forearms powerful and hairy. He says he was passing and, since he had a few minutes up his sleeve, thought he'd drop in. I don't say anything, but he is not the least bit uncomfortable standing there and says how about a cup of coffee. With a show of reluctance, I step inside and he follows me. Actually, I don't mind his visit, just wish I had some make up on and some decent clothes. On the other hand, he probably doesn't care that my lips aren't painted and it may be a bonus that I have just a summer nightie under my short gown. As I walk down the hall, I feel his eyes on my bare legs, all the way up to my thighs, and I sway my hips a little 'cos it makes me feel like a woman.
I put on the kettle and fuss with coffee grounds and plunger. In the process, my gown loosens a little and when I turn and put cups and milk on the table, I see that his eyes go straight to the cleavage that has been revealed. I lean further forward to put a plate of biscuits down and know that he can probably see down as far as the top of my nipples – which start to crinkle at the thought. I want to rub them, but act nonchalant as I sit across the table. Nick is talking a mile a minute – his up coming tennis game, his up coming business trip. Yeah, I think, what about your up coming cock?
I reach for a cigarette – the third for the day already, but what the hell – and this time let him light it. I feel his shoe brush my bare calf and give him a measured stare, blowing smoke across the table. He smiles confidently and his foot presses harder.
'Look Nick,' I say in a world weary voice. 'Why exactly are you here?'
He grins expansively and says how he enjoyed our conversation the other nights (is that what he calls a conversation?), feels a real friendship (give me a break!), and figures I feel the same way (huh?). I give him a pained smile and move my leg away. He prattles on and I finish smoking, giving him another view of womanly curves as I stand to clear the dishes. I am at the sink and hear him step up behind me. He puts his arms around my waist, whispers that I'm sexy as hell and driving him crazy, and kisses the side of my neck, his hands shifting up to cup my boobs. I struggle a bit, but not too much, saying what does he think he is doing. He kisses my neck and whispers what a sexy chick I am, and I feel his cock hard against my behind. His fingers find my nipples.
I decide to let it happen. I was probably going to fuck him anyway, but don't know if I have the patience to play this out the way I normally would. He's not the kind of guy I usually go for, but there's a certain attraction in his cock-suredness and single-mindedness. I'm not sure I'd enjoy the preliminaries, anyway. Even so, he is going to have to 'take' me.
I squirm and twist away and say what the fuck do you think you're doing. He says he wants me and steps forward and plants a kiss on my mouth. Even with his tennis shoes he is shorter than me. I resist, but don't break away from his lips too quickly. His hands are everywhere and by the time I push him away, my gown is open and one breast is swaying outside my nightie. I give him a defiant look and he gives a helpless shrug and says he can't help himself when he's alone with such a sexy woman. I allow my look to soften a little and he steps forward and kisses me again. Although I don't resist, I don't respond either. Nor do I push away his roaming hands – which are on my breasts, under my nightie squeezing my buttocks, then searching in my snatch - until he tries to insert a finger in my vagina. Then I squirm out of his embrace again and tell him to fuck off. He smiles confidently 'cos he has tweaked my hard nipples and felt the wetness between my legs. He reaches up, cups the side of my neck, and pulls me down to my knees. I make him use a lot of force, but once down I wait passively while he unbuttons his shorts, pushes them down and steps out of them. His cock is hard, a bit shorter than average, and quite thick. His groin is very hairy, but the hair is soft and clean smelling.
He wipes his cock over my lips, but I don't respond. He grabs my lower jaw and squeezes. When my mouth opens, he jabs his cock in and hisses at me to suck it. I do, but very lightly, tasting him, secretly enjoying the maleness and hot pulsing power. He loses patience and begins to buck his hips, jabbing his cock back and forth. This is not a problem, and I quite enjoy it. His cock head barely reaches to the back of my mouth and, although thick, is not uncomfortable. I am getting aroused and want to pinch my nipples and ease the horniness in my parts. I compensate by sucking at the hot shaft a bit. Nick chuckles at this conquest and tells me to show him how much I love his cock (Jesus, what an ego). I don't do anything more that suck lightly at the slick pole as it glides between my lips. He holds still for a moment with just the head in my mouth and I relent a little and lick the satiny helmet, tongue the piss hole. Fuck yeah, baby! he grunts then tells me to suck his balls. I let his cock free and it springs up and slaps against his hairy thick belly. It's been a while since I've seen a cock that hard! His balls are hairy and, as it turns out, sensitive. I barely tug at the first one with my lips and he is just about swooning.
He can't bear it for long and gasps at me to suck his cock again. I wait for him to feed it to me. This time I am a little more enthusiastic and display some of my oral talent. He chuckles as I flatten my tongue along his length and constrict the back of my mouth; then groans and goes weak at the knees as I take his knob into my throat and slip the tip of my tongue out and lick his scrotum. I don't think he notices that I have a hand busy between my legs.
He is making such constant noise, that I wonder if he is about to cum. I'm not sure I want this – not that I mind a splash of semen in the mouth, but right now I need some fucking. It's been a while and a gal does have certain needs...
I needn't have worried, 'cos Nick turns out to want some pussy. He tries to push me onto my back, but the floor is hard and I complain. He grabs my hand and drags me to my feet and hurriedly through to the bedroom. I want it from behind and fall onto hands and knees on the unmade bed. Nick is on me like a dog, his cock going in hard. The girth is delicious and I gasp and moan. He ruts like an animal, grunts like an animal, sweats like an animal. I grunt in return, his slamming cock driving the air from my lungs. The mattress is squeaking and bouncing. Sheets and blankets are all bunched up as he drives me about, that cock tirelessly plunging into my womb. My head is wedged into the mattress and my fingers are clamped around my clit, which bulges forward from its hood with each thrust. By undulating my hips each time he plunges forward, I can get some nice action on my g-spot. I cum hard. Nick keeps fucking, but I have to get away from that relentless pole and wrench forward and curl up as the intense orgasm washes through me.
Nick spoons me and I feel his cock probing between my labia. My pussy is still convulsing and it is just too intense. No more! I gasp. Nick kisses and nips my neck and whispers OK in my ear. I feel his wet cock slide into my bum crack, then lodge against my anus.
'No! Please!' I beg, still panting from the last of my climax.
'Don't worry, babe,' he says, holding me in a bear hug and biting my ear lobe. 'You're going to like this also.'
Well, maybe I was going to like it, but he was going to have to take this too. Which he promptly does – but not without a struggle. He has to clamp his arms tight about me and then roll me onto my front so that I am pinned beneath his weight. His hard eager cock, slick with my juices, presses through my pucker and I yelp and squirm, mostly for effect. He continues to whisper in my ear that it is OK. 'At least use some lubricant!' I whine. He withdraws the inch or two he'd got in and massages spit around my clenching hole. I tell him there's a tube of hand lotion behind him on the night table and he scrabbles for it, then quickly and carelessly applies a squirt into my crack. He holds his hand to my mouth and I bite down on the pongy fingers. Then he is working his cock back into my butt. I continue to struggle, but not enough to prevent him going all the way in a couple of steady thrusts.
I'd kinda forgotten how good a cock can feel wedged deep in your arse. But I don't let on and, anyway, I'm getting a kick out of having to be subdued. What with all the heaving and grunting and slippery sweat – not to mention a stretched bung hole, mashed guts and a concealed finger on the love button – I am climbing back up that pleasure slope again. For a moment I think it isn't going to be. Nick starts tensing and, grunting that he's coming, unloads deep in my bowel. I think it is all over, but he keeps arching and driving that cock forward, gasping and saying fuck fuck fuck over and over, pressing my body hard into the mattress. He has the longest orgasm I've ever seen any guy have, and as he bucks and heaves it is just enough to tip me over the edge again. I let go and scream into the sheets and writhe and toss my head. Nick thinks I'm in pain and, when he's calmed down, starts apologising. I cal him bastard and rapist and spit at him to get his fucking cock out of my butt. He eases it out, still part hard, stained and streaked (I haven't had my morning constitutional yet). A ripe pungent smell fills the room (I can get a bit of a rush merely from the smell of just-fucked arse!) and Nick says he is going to have a shower. I yell at him to hurry up and get out.
I lie there for a moment wanting to fart, but worried that more than air will come out. I have too much pride to go into the bathroom while Nick is there so ease to my feet and awkwardly walk limp into the kitchen, slip on my gown and light a cigarette. Nick's clutch bag is on the table. I open it, see a large wad of money – who carries over a thousand bucks on their way to play tennis? - and relieve him of three hundred dollars. I am back in bed when he comes out. He gives me a jaunty look – as if I should be grateful – and says it has been fantastic. I give him a sour glare and he says he has a few things on today but will be back around 5 and to see if I can find some sexy lingerie by then. I tell him to get stuffed, but he is already heading out the door.
I go to the bathroom, empty my bowels of air, semen and turds, then run the taps in the bath. As I wait for the tub to fill, I undress, wipe steam off the mirror and stand there. Face still young with clear complexion, large eyes and pouty lips. Not many wrinkles to the casual observer. Brown hair still thick and bouncy. Breasts large and relatively firm, almost symmetrical; tummy a little soft after carrying a child, but thighs tight and buttocks nicely shaped (though a bit big for my liking). Yeah – the body of a young healthy woman in the prime of life. Pity to keep it all to myself.... I take a long luxurious bath. My finger drifts down to my parts. I imagine Nick coming around later. He is pissed about the money. He pushes me around and tears off my blouse and skirt. I am only in a sheer cammie and lacy briefs. He spanks me telling me I'm a whore, that only whores take money for sex, that I owe him lots of sex for the money I took. I cry and whimper. He slaps my tits a bit then makes me blow him. He tortures my nipples as he fucks my face, ignoring my tears. He makes me eat his jism, suck him hard again then fucks me brutally over the arm of the couch. As he rams into me over and over he tells me he is going to come around every night for a month, so I better get used to it. Maybe he'll bring a couple of friends....
The bath is getting cool and it's nearly midday, so I stop fantasising and dry off. I dress, pick up Nick's money and head to the mall. There's a smart little boutique there that has some pretty slinky underwear. I'll get something wispy that can be quickly removed...
Hope you liked this one! Let me know what you think. Luv Alicia.