Stopping for a Drink Pt. 02

Morning after the Second Drink

Maybe this will make the moderators happy: All characters in this story were over 18 at the time of the sex acts described below.

I woke up with my cock hard as a rock. The night before, on the way home, I'd stopped for a drink and I ran into Adrian, the British woman who managed a law office. After walking her to her car, I fucked her.

This morning I pulled out the business card she'd given me at our first meeting and called the cell number she'd scribbled on the back. When she answered I just said, "Get your ass over here," rattled off my address quickly, and hung up.

The doorbell rang about ten minutes later. I didn't bother looking through the peephole; I just opened the door fully nude. My cock was stiff as a board and sticking straight out; my balls were tight against my crotch.

Adrian walked in the door wearing scarlet running shorts and a matching tank top, her gorgeous long blonde hair loose.

Without a word I grabbed her by the hair, bent her over the kitchen table, and pulled down her shorts. I kicked her legs apart and shoved my dick up her cunt. The little slut was sopping wet and moaned with my first, hard thrust.

I took my time. I held her long hair like the reins of a horse. I slowly pistoned in and out of her pussy, savoring every delicious sensation coming through my cockhead.

I plunged in hilt deep and moved my hips in a clockwise circular motion. This moved Adrian's pubic mound against the table. She whimpered and shuddered and let out a pathetic sounding "Oh." I kept up the motion as I slowly pulled out.

I rammed back in, this time moving my hips counterclockwise. Again Adrian twitched and let out a low, breathy, pathetic sounding "Oh."

It seemed like with every thrust and movement of her pubes against the table edge she came. Cunt cream was all over my dick and running down her legs. Adrian's pussy fit me like a glove; it was just a perfect cocksheath. I worked my prick in and out, teasing, doing everything I knew to prolong the pleasure, enjoying the way Adrian lost her cookies with every stroke. I lost track of the time; I was enjoying the best fuck of my life.

Eventually Adrian reached her arms out and grabbed the far side of the table. She started howling, still shuddering, and begged "Please, Sir, empty yourself in my pussy. I can't stand cumming like this any longer."

I gave a few more hard thrusts. Then I felt the liquid boiling up from my balls and squirting out of my dick. I roared, "Is that what you want, slut?" as the spunk left my body.

When I finished, I just pulled out, walked into the living room, and flopped on the couch to try to catch my breath. That was the fuck of a lifetime!

I hadn't been sitting long before Adrian walked into the middle of the room, naked from the waist down, and started crying. Her body was just racked with uncontrollable sobbing.

I immediately jumped across the room, put my arms around her, and asked, "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" She shook her head vehemently No, but still cried too much to speak any words. I tried to comfort her as best I could, and encouraged her to try to tell me what was bothering her so.

After maybe five minutes she got to the point that she could speak. Between sobs she said, "I've always been such a slut, Sir. No matter how hard I try I can't stop myself from cumming when a man uses me. It doesn't matter what he does. I cum from having it up my pussy or ass in any position, from sucking cock, even from taking a load of cum on my face. I know it isn't my place to cum without Sir's permission, but I just can't help it." Whereupon she once more dissolved into sobs.

So that was it. I held her gently and petted her. I said, "I don't mind at all if the girl cums when I'm using her. It just shows me what a filthy slut she is and makes the whole experience better for me." I tilted her chin up and kissed her lightly on the lips.

She sniffled a few more times and said incredulously, "Really? Sir isn't mad at me because I enjoyed his fucking me so much?"

"No, I'm not upset at all. Like I said, it's better for me when I know I'm using a girl who doesn't have any self control."

This brightened her countenance considerably. I got her some tissues (some of which she used to clean up between her legs!), and she calmed down.

We both sat on the couch. She tucked her long legs under her, leaned her back against my chest, and I enveloped her in my arms. She said, "The only sexual thing that doesn't make me cum is giving the guy a handjob. Wanking a guy's cock does make me very wet, but I don't cum. Would it be all right with Sir if I rubbed his cock up and down until he squirted a load?"

"It would be a lot better than just all right," I said. "However, you really don't need to. Believe me, I enjoyed what we just did plenty!"

"I'm glad Sir found my pussy satisfactory," she said. "I would very much like to do something that is just for Sir, though."

"OK," I said, "but after the session we just had it'll be a while before I'll be able. Even when I was younger it would take a bit until I could manage it again." I worked my hand under her tank top and cupped her breasts. This was the first time I'd touched them skin to skin; before I'd always felt them through her bra and blouse. I still hadn't seen them!

Her nipples stiffened instantly in the palms of my hands. I teased them gently with my fingertips, and was rewarded with a moan and some squirming.

"Don't you think it's time I got a look at these? Stand up and take off your top," I commanded.

Adrian's two word response was, "Yes, Sir," as she stood up, faced me, and pulled the shirt of the running outfit over her head displaying the most beautiful set of tits I'd ever seen-and trust me on this, I've seen quite a few sets of tits! I gasped in spite of myself.

"I hope Sir finds them satisfactory," she said.

"They're much more than just 'satisfactory.' You're what those of us in the know call a cunt with a great set of cans," I replied. "What size are they?"

"They're only 34C's, Sir."

So my dirty old man's eyeball hadn't lost its calibration; Adrian really did have a set of C's on her chest. "You realize only a whore tells her bra size when asked, right?"

"Yes, Sir. I thought Sir had already discovered I'm only a whore Sir doesn't have to pay," she said humbly, averting her gaze.

"Yeah, I figured out when you sucked me off after the first drink we had together that you were just a piece of gutter filth. Even gutter filth shouldn't refer to C cups as 'only,'" I said. "That's plenty big enough. Besides, like I said, you got a great rack." I think she actually blushed a little!

"Come over here closer," I ordered. When she complied I buried my face in her breasts and licked and sucked on the nipples. That always, uh, revives me, and I felt my dick lengthening again.

Some guys sneer at handjobs, saying that even in high school the girls would suck their cocks. However, a good handjob is one of the most enjoyable ways there is to cum. Most girls don't know how to give them, I think because they believe sucking cock is a more valuable, highly-appreciated skill; and maybe, on the whole, they're right; but I'll tell you, a piece of ass that knows how to jack a cock is welcome to demonstrate her skill on me any time.

Adrian sat next to me, tucking her legs under her, sitting as close as she could, and getting as much of her body as possible in contact with mine. I put my right arm around her shoulders, letting my hand dangle down to touch her right tit, and cupped her left one with my left hand.

Adrian barely licked my ear; any lighter and I wouldn't have felt it. The tips of her fingers barely touched my dick, making it stiffen, and making me yearn for more. Then, in a scarcely audible, meek, submissive, little girl voice, with hot, humid breath like you'd use to try to clean your glasses, she said, "Does Sir have a problem?" I squirmed at more light fingering. "Since Sir is moving around, maybe Sir wants me to stop. Does Sir find it unpleasant when I touch him like that?" More light fingertip cock caresses.

And then she stopped, took her hand away, and leaned slightly away from me.

"Please," I said. "It feels so good. Please don't leave me hanging!"

She snuggled close again and her fingers gave my ball bag a feather touch. I couldn't sit still. So she again stopped and asked if I didn't like what she was doing.

"Please," I begged. "Don't make me beg. You know you're making my balls boil."

Who was the sub and who was the dom?

"Does Sir need to have his balls drained?" she asked innocently. She took her hand from my balls and slid it lightly up the underside of my dick. I squirmed and moaned.

"Oooh," she cooed, "it looks like Sir's cock is a little stiff. What do you say I give it a nice wank?"

"Uhnn."

"Oooh, Sir's cock is drooling!" She took her index finger and drew a long string of precum from the tip of my dick. Then she smeared it all over the cockhead.

Then using the slick precum as lube, she grasped my shaft very loosely and started stroking her hand up and down. I'd never felt anything so good.

I started to squirm again. I couldn't help it.

She stopped dead but didn't remove her hand.

"Sir keeps trying to get away," she said in her sexiest, most innocent, little girl voice. "It wouldn't be right for me to force Sir."

"Please," I pleaded. "You're driving me crazy!"

She said innocently, "Oh, does Sir need to empty his nuts?"

"God, yes!" I practically yelled. "I can't take it any longer. Do your job, you cockteasing whore!"

"Well, all right, I guess, as long as Sir shows me how much he likes it." And with that she expertly moved her hand across my cockhead a few times in a way that gave me no choice but to empty my nuts. I shot rope after rope of thick spunk most of the way across the room. Having already put so much up Adrian's twat, I was surprised there was that much left in me. Live and learn, I guess.

"Thank you, Sir, for letting me see your precious fluid spew from your cock. I hope Sir found my service satisfactory." There she was with this satisfactory stuff again. She had no idea how much that turned me on.

After I descended back to earth, I cuddled her close and softly said, "No decent girl would ever do anything to make a man feel that good. You really are nothing but a cheap whore under that proper British public image, aren't you?"

"Yes, Sir, I'm always just a whore with men. I hope Sir enjoys the time he spends with his whore."

Any man that didn't would call his heterosexuality into serious question! It was only mid-morning on a Saturday. I was looking forward to the rest of the weekend! Not to mention that referring to herself with the phrase "his whore" hinted at interesting possibilities.