Secret Superpower #02: Ball Sports

I reluctantly withdrew my soft meat from her soft breasts. I was useless now anyway, thoroughly used up by that massive orgasm. She sat up. She was a mess: my white seed all over her face, neck, and chest, her hair matted with it, brown sauce staining everything else. She looked like she'd just taken a gang facial from a team of mud wrestlers. Our eyes met for an instant. Fiery passion filled hers. It took all my will power not to dive into her wet snatch and get her off in partial compensation for the world class service she'd just given me.

She showed herself to Chuck, at the edge of the bed, inches in front of him, showing off her bespattered but still beautiful torso. "My little mouth paid the debt for your big mouth. You owe me big time, very big time. And don't forget. I sure won't."

"Take a shower, whore."

"If I'm a whore, then you're a pimp." She scooped a bit of goo from her chest, theatrically licked it off her finger.

I wiped myself on a bedsheet and put my clothes on. If the guy had any sense he'd wash her down lovingly with his own hands, then eat her and fuck her all night. Unfortunately, it didn't appear he had any. He was nursing his anger instead of trying to cure himself of it.

She went to the hall mirror. She did her best to keep a straight face when he was watching, but for me let out a wide grin. She liked herself like that.

From behind her I heard, "Get the fuck out of here, asshole."

It was time to leave. In the short hallway at the door, out of sight of her husband, she gave me a kiss, our first.

"Thanks," I whispered. "You were exquisite. You still are."

"I had fun too."

"Listen," I said, "If he gives you a problem, call me. I'm in 1237."

"I think I can handle him."

Famous last words. I wasn't back in my room ten minutes, had just undressed and put on my robe in preparation for a badly needed shower, when there was a knock on the door. It was her, wiped up a bit, but out in the hall still only dressed in her panties. She pushed the door into me as she slipped in quickly.

"He—" She no longer looked the wild, strong woman with the fiery eyes. She was on the verge of tears.

"He threw you out?"

"He tried to hit me. He ordered me to do him the way I did you. I told him to go fuck himself. I had to run. Do— do you mind? Can I stay here, just for a little while?"

"Of course. It must have been quite an adventure coming up here."

"There was only one man on my floor. I hid by the vending machine. Then I came up here."

"It is late. But you're welcome here anytime."

She hugged me. "I— I guess I was a little mean to him."

"He deserved it."

"But you know—" She broke away. She was quite a sight, bare-chested with dried come stains, brown splotches, hair stuck together. "I was enjoying myself."

"I could tell. There's no need to feel guilty."

She smiled. "I haven't let myself go like that since . . . I guess since I got married. Chuck just likes very straight, plain vanilla sex. He doesn't even like blow jobs. It's frustrating."

"I said he was foolish. You're a magnificent cocksucker."

I think she blushed. It was hard to tell under the mess. "I've never done it like that with a guy before."

"I never had a woman do me like that before." The statement was technically true. Of course I've had innumerable blow jobs; more tit fucks that I can remember, some with edibles as the lubricant; been sucked off a few times with the husband watching; won several blow jobs on bets, all, as far as I can remember, from the blower (I should write down those stories sometime). Never had a gourmet tit blow in front of the husband as the prize for winning a bet, though. That was a first.

"Come on, let's get ourselves cleaned up." I led her into the bathroom and started the shower. She gave a little start when I put my hands to her panties. "Relax," I said. I knelt and gently tugged them off. "You need some TLC, and after what you did for me, I'm in the mood to give you some." The aroma from her panties was pure pheromone; her womanhood, a well-defined mound under a thick dark patch of curls, was pure delight. I wanted to dive in immediately.

I controlled myself. First things first. She was scared, probably cold, no doubt confused. I took off my robe, took her arm, and walked her into the shower. I sprayed her down quickly, then gave her a nice, slow, luxurious shampoo, just to get her into the rhythm. I scrubbed her down, making her pink all over, and carefully cleaned her special crevices. And of course went over and over those legs. I could have washed her legs all night.

After I dried her off I brushed her hair. "I feel like a queen," she said. She took my new erection in her hand and kissed it.

"Later," I told her. I led her to my bed. "Lie on your stomach."

I gave her a slow, deep, full body massage, turned her over, and continued on her front.

"The son of a bitch never does this for me."

I played with her pubic hair, massaged her mons.

"You want to fuck me, don't you? Go ahead, I don't mind."

"No."

She looked puzzled.

"Well, yes. But there's something else I want to do with you first. Tell me I can do whatever I want with your body."

She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped.

"Trust me. I'm a total stranger. I just had you give me an outrageous blow job in front of your husband. You're alone in a strange city without a penny or even a stitch of clothing except for panties you should probably through out. Trust me."

She spreadeagled her long limbs, claiming the whole king-sized bed. Magnificent. "Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Okay, you can— what you said. Jeez, I don't even know your name."

I moved between her legs. Plenty of room there to spread out and enjoy myself. "Yes you do. Think of the man in your fantasies. His name is the same as mine. What's my name?"

"When I was a teenager, I used to think about this guy, he was four years older than me. He was beautiful."

"And his name?"

"Antonio. Ahh."

I was massaging her snatch. "That's my name too. What a coincidence. And what should your name be?"

"Mm, that feels so good. I think I'll be— Amanda. I don't know why. I just like the name."

"It's a beautiful name. Suits you. Now, Amanda, I asked you to tell me something."

"Yes. Yes . . . Antonio. You can do anything you want with me. Use me. Enjoy me."

"I will. I'm going to do what I've longed to do since the moment you took off your shorts." I bent down and treated myself to a mouthful of her delicious fem fruit.

She gasped. I stuck my tongue into her wet slit and lapped away. She writhed. I tortured her clit, long like its owner, the way she'd tortured my cock. She moaned and whimpered. "He never does this for me either."

There was a mixture of sadness and anger in her voice. I came up for air. "You should let him know how you feel."

"You're right." She slid to the side of the bed and grabbed the hotel phone, pressed some numbers. I heard the phone ringing at the other end. "Come on, you fucker, answer. Probably drank himself to— hi, honey. Yes, it's me, your wife. Remember? Listen up now, I have something to tell you. Hmm? I'm somewhere very nice. Don't worry. In fact, I wanted to tell you just how nice." She wiggled her cunt in front of my face, as good as an engraved invitation. I resumed my midnight snack. "Ah, ah. I'm, I'm, very, very nice. What? No, nothing's wrong. Oohhh. Everything's v-very right, very, v-v-very. . . . No, in fact right now I'm hot. . . . It's because he's eating me. Yes, him. No, Chuck, you're the asshole, remember? Don't you dare hang up. Oh, oh. Chuck, I don't want to argue right— god, you're going to make me— yes? I don't care. No, I can't, no, no way. Ahhh, ahhh. I'm sorry, dear. Because, ohh, because, because, you idiot, I'm going to come in his mouth! Ahhhhh! Ahhhh! You asshole! Ahhhhhh! Ahhhhhh! Ahhhhhh!"

It was quite an orgasm, long, intense, vocal, and wet.

"Yes, Chuck, you can believe what you heard. And he's still at it. I might come again. Forget it, I'm not coming back. I'm in love with his tongue. Whew! . . . Hah, in your dreams. . . . No, not yet, but if he wants to, he can. Well, if that's what I am then I'm talking to the man that made me. I told him he could do anything he wanted with me. . . . Fuck you. . . . Yeah, he's kneeling right there between my legs. He likes my legs, Chuck. He loves them. His cock looks delicious. You should have sucked him, Chuck. Nice body. I think he's going to do it. I hope so. I'm still horny for him. . . . Yeah, fuck you too. Cancel that. I'm never fucking you. Ah! Want to say hello? Because he's right on top of me. I can feel his, oohhoohh! Oh, yes, do it, do it! Not you, Chuck, him. . . . He's fucking me, asshole, that's what's going on! No, he's fucking my pussy, you're the asshole. But he can fuck my ass if he wants."

I pumped and pumped her cunt, as delicious to my cock as it had been to my tongue, while she continued her monologue to her husband, as obscene as anything that got Lenny Bruce arrested. I was amazed he hadn't hung up by now. Maybe vicarious sex was his kink. She described in flattering detail what it was like to be fucked by yours truly, using every opportunity to belittle her spouse's sexual prowess, interrupting herself frequently to gasp or moan or scream. Her words eventually became labored, her sentences halting and difficult to understand. She was starting to crest towards her second orgasm. I picked up the pace.

"Oh god, honey, his cock, he's going to, it feels so fantastic, it's, god, oh, thanks so much, honey, for getting me to blow him. And for throw— keep doing that, that, Antonio— throwing me out. I'm so happy, I want his cock, I, aahhahhahhahahh!"

Another good orgasm went over the wires.

"Yes, dear, that was another one. I sure am, if you say so. Sorry, I can't come back. He's still hard and he's still way up inside me. He probably wants me to suck him off again. He says I'm a magnificent cocksucker . . . How would you know? Wait. He's whispering something. God, Chuck, you know what? He doesn't want me to suck him off. . . . Ha ha, he can if he wants later. Now he wants, he wants, listen, he wants to fuck my ass. Ooh, it gives me the shivers. . . . Of course I will. I know I never did . . . I promised. Oh, he pulled out. Wait a sec, I need to change hands. . . . I'm turning over so he can . . . I don't care. What are you going to do about it? If I want to I can, and I want to, I want to give him everything, I'll do whatever he wants if he'll just, ooooooh. . . . No, it's cold. The grease or whatever." I'd put some on the night table earlier, just in case. "Yes, I really am. . . . You can hang up if you want to, I don't care. In fact, oh, Chuck, his finger's in my hole. In fact, I'm tired of talking. I'm going to just lay the phone here so you can hear me if you want. I'm going to relax and concentrate of what he's, ohohoh."

I eased my cockhead into her asshole. Very nice. And up inside her colon. Pure heaven. Those long, long legs tried to wrap around mine.

She gasped and grunted as I carefully slid in and out of her. On each in-stroke she squeezed her buns together in instinctive resistance to my trespass, giving my cock intense pressure, as if I were pressing directly through her flesh into her innards; when I paused at greatest penetration, she became accustomed in a few seconds to the extra meat inside her and relaxed, which turned her insides liquid, encouraging me to press in another inch, which I could not resist doing, and which took her breath away; and when at last I began to withdraw, she squeezed again and whimpered, begging me with her body not to go.

There's nothing like a virgin assfuck, guys, nothing like feeling from the inside as a beautiful woman realizes for the first time how sensual, how erotic, how pleasurable it can be to do something so lewd, nothing like being on the receiving end when she decides to make up for all those dreary years of being a nice girl and a proper woman with one spectacular anal rut. At one point I withdrew until my cockhead was exactly in her anus, and paused there just to feel her sphincter stretched to its max. She raised herself up on her elbows and looked back at me and my cock. "You're driving me crazy," she said. "That was so intense I can't believe it. Is my ass good?"

"Your ass was made for fucking." I plunged into her, dropping on her with all my weight. She yelled and screamed. Into the phone, by the way, which was right by her. I pumped in and out as hard as I could.

Breathily she cried, "Fuck me! Fuck my ass!"

I whispered in her ear, "Suck me off with your asshole."

She arched her back, sticking her ass up at me, and squeezed her rear end as if she wanted to bite my cock off with it. It was my turn to yell.

She pumped her butt up and down in rhythm with me, making us both bounce up and down. The phone went flying off the mattress. I felt like a cowboy fucking the wild mare he was breaking. She brought those long legs together under me to squeeze me tighter, squirming, and now I knew what it was like to buttfuck a mermaid.

"Do it up my ass! Give it to me!" She bent herself back as if she were practicing to be a contortionist, so far her arms were fully extended pushing against the bed and her eyes stared at the ceiling, almost like a yoga pose. Analasana. Downward doggie style. I wrapped myself around those gorgeous legs stretching behind me, got a double handful of the luscious tits poking out in front, rammed my cock way up inside her rectum, and spurted my second white load into her superb derriere.

She yelled as if she were the one coming, and yelled again and again with each of my spewing thrusts, groaned as my empty organ continued to grind inside her, squeezed and groaned and writhed when I stopped, soft and exhausted, continuing to beg me for more assfucking, more sperm in her colon; and when my useless organ popped out and I rolled off, she put her hands in her crotch and wiggled until she brought herself to a whimpering orgasm. Maybe her third, but I'd stopped counting a while back.

I awoke late the next morning, but she was still asleep. I washed and dressed, then went down to the lobby. In a women's clothing shop I bought a tight, high-cut miniskirt, a tube top, and sandals. Then I ordered breakfast for two in my room.

She was in the shower when I got back. I put the packages on the toilet seat. Room service brought the food.

"How do I look?" she said when she came out.

"Too good. I want to rip your clothes off."

I didn't have to. The new clothes were off in a second. We had breakfast together au naturel, which she ended by bringing the pancake syrup around to my side of the breakfast cart. She knelt, pulled my robe open, and sucked me hard. Then syrup, which she tongued of my cockhead, mmm-ing repeatedly.

After that it was another session on the bed. All three holes again, per her request. I lost count of the number of times she came— turned out she was one of those women who come from anal, which she proved repeatedly— until finally, exhausted, prone, legs spread wide, my stiff cock still stretching her sphincter, she suddenly relaxed. Unconscious or asleep or just totally spaced out, I couldn't tell.

I slipped out of her, still hard, and cleaned up in the shower. When I returned she cuddled up to me in the bed, her hand on my dick. "I feel like I just escaped from prison," she said. "Thank you. Sincerely. I needed something like this."

Eventually her head slid down my stomach and I was once again between her lips. She gave the sweetest blow job any teenage boy could fantasize from his high school crush.

Afterwards she got dressed while I recovered. I saw she was leaving so I got up, kissed her, and fished some hundreds from my wallet.

"No, no. You don't owe me anything."

"It's mad money to get you back home on your own if you need to. The bet he should have made. Will that be enough?"

"Plenty." She smiled down at the wad of green. "And enough left over for a retainer." To my look she added. "For a divorce lawyer. And one more thing you could give me, if you will."

"Name it."

"Your phone number."

That's yet another story.