How will she deal with the guilt?
——— Jackson ——–
I tried desperately not to fall asleep before she came back from the bathroom. I slapped my face a few times trying to stay awake but she was taking forever. I would have naturally wanted to fall into a deep sleep after sex like that which drained so much out of me. Combined with the fact that I had been up for over 24 hours and I wanted to fall into a good 14-hour coma. I looked over at the clock. It had been over 10 minutes and I got a little worried. I somehow managed to crawl out of the bed, walked over to the bathroom and knocked, asking if she was ok. I got a muffled response that said that she was fine. I didn’t believe her.
Her face registered shocked surprise as I walked into the bathroom and found her sitting on the toilet, face in her hands.
“Hey! I’m peeing!”
“I heard you finish peeing five minutes ago,” I said, spreading her legs and kneeling on the cold floor in front of her. “Now you’re sitting here feeling guilty, regretting what we did.” She tried to smile at me reassuringly but it was a sad smile.
“Am I that obvious?”
“You’re a good woman, Orkideh, and you don’t strike me as the kind of woman who would cheat on the man she loves.”
“Yet here I am,” she said, taking my face into her hands. She looked deep into my eyes and I saw a mix of emotions play across her face. “I don’t regret what we did,” she said finally, “but yes, I do feel incredibly guilty. Brian has been really good to me and I do love him. He didn’t deserve this.”
“No one deserves this,” I interjected, “but something really special happened between us today, Orkideh. I couldn’t bring myself to go get on my plane without saying goodbye. By the time I was dropping you off at your hotel after dinner I was aching to take you in my arms and kiss you… kiss you until our lips got sore. That ache would have remained like a weight in my chest, haunting me for the rest of my life if we hadn’t done this,” I told her, kissing the inside of her palm that was caressing my face.
“I think I would have felt the same way, too. But now I fear I’m going to live with this guilt for the rest of my life. My problem is that I don’t know which is worse — living with the loss I would have felt if we didn’t get together, or living with the guilt because we did.”
“You can’t think like that,” I told her. “You have to think of this moment as separated in time from the rest of your life. Look, I know I have you on borrowed time and that you’ve made a commitment to another man. I know that in a few hours you will get on a plane and I will be a part of your past. It hurts but I’ve made peace with that. But you know what Brian deserves? Instead of concentrating on the guilt, concentrate on being a good wife to him. Be the best wife to him you can possibly be. Love him, honor him, and when he’s at the end of his life let him look back on the life that you two have shared and be happy. He deserves that more than your guilt. It’s what I would want.”
“Yeah, but I’ll be living a lie. Is that what you would really want, a wife who was living a lie?”
“If you love him, yeah. The lie is your problem, not his. If I was in your fiancé’s shoes and you still loved me and wanted to spend your life with me, I wouldn’t want to know. Now, of course I wouldn’t want you cheating on me. But I wouldn’t want one night of infidelity to prevent me from having a lifetime of happiness. So if after tonight you are sure that you can love him and be faithful then swallow your guilt and just be the best wife that you can be.”
She put her face in her hands and sighed. “What you say makes sense,” she said, looking at me with blood-shot eyes, “but it feels like a pretty self-serving way to deal with it.”
“I’m just telling you the truth about how I feel, having had a few years to think about such things. Would I want a faithful wife? Of course. Would I want a truthful wife? For the most part, yes. But there are many truths that we often don’t want to hear. When I’m dating someone new I don’t want to know details of her sexual past. That’s her personal business and I don’t want to know. As far as this one instance of infidelity, if I had my choice I would prefer a life of happiness never knowing that you had been unfaithful because once I know something like that I can’t forget. I could never feel completely comfortable with you again, never completely trust you again. It would essentially ruin our relationship. Knowing the truth would make me miserable both with you and without you. So if your love is true, I would prefer that truth over the truth of fidelity or infidelity.”
There was a long bout of silence. “That sounds pathetic,” she said finally, “and also extremely wise.”
“Probably some of both,” I chuckled. Her mood seemed to soften then, too.
“I’m really so happy that I met you, Jackson. I will try to take your advice and be a good wife to Brian. But I don’t regret what I’ve shared with you today, I don’t regret it at all.”
“We still have a few more hours,” I said, getting up off of my knees and helping her to her feet.
“Oh God, I’m exhausted! I’m going to pass out before my head hits the pillow. Don’t tell me you still have energy left?” she asked incredulously.
“Do me a favor and sleep on the plane tomorrow. I have two more hours of happiness with you, Orkideh. I don’t want to spend them asleep.”
“Yes, but I would also love to go to sleep snuggled up next to you and wake up in your arms.”
“I would love that, too,” I said, running some warm water and wetting a washcloth, “but if I have to choose between having two more waking hours with you or spending those two hours asleep so we can wake up together… I’ll choose the two more hours awake.” I used the warm washcloth to wipe any urine residue from her pussy.
“Yeah,” she sighed, spreading her legs a bit to give me full access, “definitely not regretting having this night with you. You even give a good wipe down after sex. I’ll try to stay awake for these next two hours but I can’t make any promises.”
We kissed, and I tried to usher her out of the bathroom so I could then take a pee. She wasn’t having it.
“If you can barge in on me while I’m peeing then I’m staying right here,” she insisted, hands on her hips. Standing there fully nude, she was a sight. I liked her spunk.
“Suit yourself,” I said, lifting the toilet seat and preparing to let go. My dick was still slimy from our lovemaking. Then, as if she had a sudden epiphany, Orkideh ran over to stand behind me. She reached around me, moving my hand out of the way to take hold of me and waited for me to release, giving me a little shake. It was a new one on me. I was surprised and slightly nervous which made it difficult for me to release right away. I wasn’t shy about her holding me while I peed, but I was scared that her aim would be off and that I would pee everywhere but in the toilet. Eventually my bladder released its contents and all my fears were realized. We laughed hysterically as my urine flew everywhere. We continued giggling while we cleaned it all up.
She took the same washcloth I had used on her and dabbed just the very tip of my penis but left the rest of it slimy with our sex juices. I wondered why until she led me back into the bedroom and sat me down on the edge of the bed then crawled between my legs, pushing her suitcase that sat on the floor at the foot of the bed out of the way. The look in her eyes spoke of a deep hunger and she licked her lips lustfully.
I had long since lost any semblance of an erection but Orkideh wasted no time taking me into her mouth. I heard a moan escape from deep within her chest as her tongue bathed my flesh and swirled my penis around in her mouth. She pressed her nose far down into my pubes, inhaling deeply as she cleaned all the messy sex juices off of my cock. Her nails pressed into my thighs, pushing them far apart to maintain her access.
My body could not help but respond but at the same time a sense of sadness came over me as I realized how alike we were when it came to expressing this kind of intimacy and how much I would be losing when she walked out of my life in a few hours. The way she sucked me spoke of a dark, untapped need for really intense and edgy sex that was going on unfulfilled in her regular life. I recognized it in her because I had the same needs. Our perfect chemistry freed us both to express those needs and desires.
As my erection grew in her mouth I missed having her close enough to me to smell, kiss or taste. I craved the olfactory stimulation she had been giving to me all day to compliment the physical stimulation her lips and tongue were providing. I spotted the light sweater she had been wearing earlier, discarded on the corner of the bed presumably when she stripped to get into the shower. I picked it up and brought it to my face so I could fill my senses with her. She looked up at me and shook her head disapprovingly, never taking my dick out of her mouth. She reached for her sweater.
“I want to smell you while you’re loving me,” I said in protest. The motion of her tongue on the underside of my cock suddenly stopped, telling me that she meant business. I reluctantly gave up the sweater and she rewarded my compliance by pushing her mouth down on my cock as far as it would go. I was now fully erect. She couldn’t deep throat me, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. In fact, it was sexier watching her try desperately to cram all of me down her throat, fighting her gag reflex and losing. I saw her reach down toward the floor and fidget around for a second before her hand emerged with a tiny piece of green fabric in them. She put the garment in my hand. It was a pair of her panties. They were damp.
“Brian gave that sweater to me,” she said, taking her mouth off of me briefly but offering no further explanation. “Use these instead,” she insisted between licks to my swollen head, “they smell even more like me.” A sly smile broke out across her face and she swallowed me again. Somewhere between the bathroom and the bedroom she let go of her trepidations about our encounter and decided to leave every inhibition behind. I was turned on beyond belief.
She was right about the smell of her panties. She had boldly given me the pair that she had been wearing all day, knowing how ripe they were and correctly guessing that their pungency would excite me immensely. They were ripe but not foul — she hadn’t been sweating but her pussy had been leaking into them for quite a while, judging by the size of the wet stain and the strength of her scent. I found the damp crotch and pressed it right up to my nose as Orkideh went back to blowing my brains out.
She alternated between sucking the life out of me and licking my balls while she rubbed my dick all over her face. It was by far the best blowjob I had ever had but not because of her skill or technique but purely because of the intense emotion she put into it. She wanted to be the best for me, wanted this to be something I remembered for the rest of my life, just as I had tried to do for her earlier.
Even sexier than what she wanted me to get out of it was what she wanted for herself — I sensed a lifetime of repressed desires that were exploding out of her; a long yearned-for freedom to make love without fear of moral judgment. Once she had made the decision to cheat, there was no more immorality left to be afraid of.
Her mouth was driving me crazy and I couldn’t take it any more. My cock was so hard it could barely bend. I could tell she would have gladly swallowed all I had to give her if I decided to let myself cum but I really wanted to be back inside of her, to feel her legs and her pussy wrapped around me one last time. So I gently pulled my dick out of her mouth and pulled her up onto the bed. She climbed on top of me and immediately sank her pussy down onto me while she snatched her panties away from my face and sucked my tongue out of my mouth. She was sopping wet, just as excited as I was.
She rode me sensually, her hips doing a Persian dance as she undulated on top of me. She worked her pussy on me in a way that pushed the head of my dick right into her g-spot and I looked on in rapture as she took her pleasure unabashedly. It was mesmerizing watching her move. A moist glow of perspiration broke out all over her, making her olive skin shine. I wanted to lick every inch of her.
She alternated between leaning down to kiss me briefly but spent most of the time high up above me with her hands on my chest, arms extended supporting her weight. Her head started to roll back, whipping her hair to and fro. I tired to think about my mother and all the ugly women of my family — anything to distract me to hold back my orgasm as hers fast approached. It wasn’t working, so I tried to think of the men, then the old men. I thought of my 80 year-old uncle, thought of him naked, and bit the insides of my cheeks as she came, thrashing about until she collapsed on top of me.
I rolled her over and just slowly made love to her as long as I could. It was soft and sensual, all the urgency worn out of us. We expressed the deepest sentiments of love without saying a word. I so didn’t want it to end. When I felt myself getting close I slowed down and just pressed my full length inside of her, letting her feel me throb. I did this three times and on the fourth time she threw her arms around my neck while thrusting her pussy up into me, and squeezed her pussy around me with all her might. I exploded, crying out loud with my toes curling behind me. I felt like my entire life had been drained out of me.
I collapsed next to her and brought her into my arms. “Don’t go to sleep,” I begged. She looked over at the clock. It was 4:37, about one hour before we needed to get up and shower to head to the airport.
“I don’t think I can stay awake for the next five minutes, never mind the next hour.”
“We can just talk and cuddle,” I said, pressing my lips into hers.
“Sounds good in theory,” she said but her eyes were already closing.
“Just don’t cheat me out of my last hour with you,” I said, my eyes extremely heavy as well.
The next thing I remember is hearing her exclaim “fucking hell” as the alarm on her phone woke us up. Our bodies were all tangled together and slightly sticky from our lovemaking earlier, so it took her a moment to disentangle herself and scramble over to her phone. She shut the alarm off and looked at the time with a groan. We had about fifty minutes to get to the airport to make her flight, which was slightly earlier than mine. The hotel was close to the airport and they had a shuttle so getting there wouldn’t be a problem. No, the problem would be getting up out of bed on only 1 hour of sleep after being awake for slightly more than 24 hours, not to mention all the “strenuous activity” with which we capped off our night.
“We fell asleep,” she mumbled, crawling over to the center of the bed where I lay and collapsing back on top of me. My arms enveloped her instinctively, having missed her for the 10 seconds she was away. “I think sleeping one hour makes it worse than had we not slept at all… I’m bloody exhausted.”
“You were right, though,” I said, pressing my lips into the top of her head and smelling her hair, “waking up with you in my arms is a wonderful thing. I’m glad I got to experience it.”
She shivered and I could feel goosebumps breaking out all over her skin. We had been hot and sweaty when we had fallen asleep so the feeling of the cool air in the room blowing over our naked skin was welcome. Now feeling cold, Orkideh pulled the comforter up over us and snuggled deeper into my chest, draping her leg over mine and rubbing her sex against the top of my thigh. The warm, damp sensation made my cock twitch against her tummy but I was much too exhausted to get hard. But getting fully aroused wasn’t the point. She was letting me know with her body that she shared my sentiment. We just held each other like that in silence for about five minutes, barely conscious because of how tired we were. When I felt her breathing take on a regular rhythm I knew she was falling back asleep.
“We have to get you to your plane,” I said softly, sadly. She stirred.
“I’m SO not ready to leave you yet.”
“If it was up to me you would never leave but…” I trailed off, leaving the obvious unsaid. She was silent for a moment.
“How can you be so sure you would never want me to leave after knowing each other for such a short time?” she challenged me. “We know we have a strong attraction to each other and we know we deeply care for each other, but we’ve only showed each other our best faces today.”
“If I were younger I might agree with you but I’ve been around long enough that I can sense right away when I’m really compatible with someone. I just feel it. You just feel right to me.”
“Yeah but we don’t know any of each other’s bad habits. I could have some that really get on your nerves, and vice versa.”
“Do you know how much I would give to be with you long enough to learn some of your bad habits? Besides, you’ve seen one of mine already,” I chuckled.
“When?”
“On the plane… my computer. You didn’t say anything but I know you saw those other movies I had.”
“Oh yeah, you naughty boy.” I couldn’t see her face because it was buried against my chest but I could feel her cheeks and lips curl up into a smile. “But I don’t think badly of you because of that — I’m not your typical academic feminist in that respect. In my country, many women — and gay men sometimes — get beaten and killed because of how our morality gets hyper-policed. So as long as someone isn’t raping children and being dishonest with their lover, I don’t pass moral judgment on their sexual expression. Although if we were together,” she added, “I would hope that I fulfilled all your sexual needs.” She rubbed her body against mine and pressed her pussy down into my thigh for emphasis.
“Of that, I have no doubt” I said, pulling her head up for a kiss. “I think the bigger challenge for us would be our cultural differences. Intellectually, politically, sexually — we’d be fine. I suspect that culturally and socially we have some great differences that may take getting used to. But I would so love to try…” Sadness crept back into my voice as I realized I would never get the opportunity to find out. “We need to go,” I said finally, “or you’re going to miss your plane.”
One would think that I would be the last person to remind her that we needed to get going. Deep down inside, I knew that saying goodbye to her was going to hurt me tremendously. Of course I didn’t want her to go but there was another part of me that wanted to get on with it and avoid putting myself in a situation where I would lose my cool.
I knew she could feel the tension in me and I could feel the same tension in her as she lay there for a moment, contemplating what to say. “I think I have an idea,” she said finally, a mischievous smile on her face. She pushed away from me and reached for her purse on the night table by the bed. She pulled out her ticket and grabbed her phone then dialed. I could just barely hear an automated computer answering system on the other line. She pushed a few numbers and then finally spoke to a live person.
She changed her voice a bit, sounding like she was in great pain. Over the next few minutes I heard her explain to the airline representative about some horrible food poisoning she had which was causing her a great deal of illness which would prevent her from flying that morning. For extra emphasis, she explained to the person how she doubted she could stay in her seat for more than five minutes at a time without needing a trip to bathroom, “lavatory” as she called it in her Persian/British accent. She asked if her reservation could be moved to a flight later in the evening to give her system time to flush itself out in order that she might be able to fly.
Apparently, the person wasn’t going for it, as I heard her complaining that she should not be charged so much to change her ticket. “Oh well,” she said, “I’ll just have to take my chances and fly this morning… I hope I don’t get everyone on the plane sick as well.” I could barely hold my laughter, even in my still exhausted state. There was a long pause. “They have me on hold for a manager,” she whispered. I smiled and crawled over to where she was sitting on the edge of the bed. I couldn’t stand being away from her, not touching her, so I wrapped my arms back around her as she spoke. She re-told her lie to the manager and within a minute she was thanking him for his kind consideration. When she finally hung up she turned around and flew into my arms, kissing me deeply.
“We have twelve more hours!” she exclaimed with a radiant — if still very sleepy — smile. “Now you have to call your airline and tell the same lie. Make it believable!” she said, handing me her phone. I called and they bought it, and we were kissing again in celebration. She eventually broke away with a pained look in her eyes.
“Now I need to call Brian,” she said somberly, “but I can’t do that laying here next to you. I’m going to go into the lavatory for some privacy, ok?” I nodded. She gave me one last kiss. “Be right back.”
From the bed I could hear her in the bathroom telling Brian the same food poisoning story, though there was a great deal more she said which I could tell would have been indeed hard to say in front of me. I heard her tell him how much she missed him, how much she wished he was here to take care of her, how sorry she was that her feeling ill would ruin any plans for intimacy they had for that evening, and then finally how much she loved him. It was hard for me to hear. I knew the thoughts were genuine, even if interlaced with a big fat lie to cover up her infidelity. When she came back to bed her face was sad, almost angry.
“I feel like shit for what I just did,” she said, crawling into bed with me and pulling the covers back over us. She turned away from me and curled into a fetal position. I pressed my chest into her back and spooned, wrapping my arms around her. I said nothing. There was nothing to say. “Let’s just get some more sleep,” she said finally. Within five minutes we were out.
———- Orkideh ———–
We stayed tangled up in each other’s arms as we slept. Whenever one of us would stir we’d share a lingering kiss before finding a new position and falling back asleep. I could still smell my sex on his face which made each kiss that much more enticing. My pussy had a dull throb, slightly sore from how deep and hard he had fucked me but the sensation was a welcomed reminder of the beautiful time we’d shared. I had no doubt that I would be even sorer by the time I boarded the plane that evening.
That’s when a fresh wave of guilt washed over me. My pussy would be sore, loose and awash with another man’s seed by the time I made it home to Brian that night. Even though I loved and missed him terribly, there was no way I would be able to make love to him when I got home. Even if I was somehow able to hide the guilt in my face, my body would give me away. I doubted if just taking a bath or shower would do the trick. Jackson had cum so hard and so deep inside of me that I would need one or two days to let my body cleanse itself and let the walls of my pussy regain their snugness. I was going to have to lie and play sick for a long time. Just the thought of it brought genuine disquiet to my gut.
Sometime just before 1 pm the hotel phone started ringing, waking us up again. I scrambled to answer it. It was the front desk alerting us that we had missed the checkout time by nearly an hour and that if we didn’t come down right away we were going to be charged another day. I asked if we could do a late checkout but the woman said that housekeeping staff was only on duty for another hour and after that there would be no one around to clean the rooms. Hearing the conversation unfold, Jackson reached over and took the phone from me, rattled off his credit card number and expiration date and asked them to charge the extra day to him. Then he hung up and collapsed back on the bed.
“What’s a $100 for an extra day with you?” he asked rhetorically. I kissed him in response, lingering for a second to enjoy his soft, plush full lips. I was going to miss those.
“You rest,” I said, feeling movement in my lower abdomen, “I need to go use the bathroom, as you Americans say.” I stretched, yawning as I got up from the bed and walked over toward the lavatory. I hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep and my body felt like a truck ran over me. I heard Jackson turn in the sheets as I walked away from him. Looking over my shoulder I saw that he was watching me as I walked, lustful eyes focused on my butt. “Sleep!” I insisted, “You’re going to need your energy for later.” I blushed and shut the door.
My body had a consistent schedule no matter what the circumstances. First thing every morning my bowels were ready to empty the previous day’s food. That day was no different. Though it wasn’t morning any longer my body didn’t know the difference with all the time changes I’d been through. When you find a new lover the last thing you ever want them to do is smell your shit. There’s an old saying, ‘the lover who follows a woman into her private spaces risks being disillusioned.’ Even though shitting is one of the most basic parts of being human we always try to hide the fact that we do it when it comes to new relationships. So I was feeling very self conscious about releasing my bowels with Jackson lying in the other room.
I turned the fan on and it was very loud so I turned it right back off. I debated, wondering what was more embarrassing, the loud sound of the fan alerting him to the fact that I was in here releasing my bowels or the risk of him smelling it afterward. I decided to go without the fan since I was going to jump right in the shower afterward, anyway. The smell would be long gone once I was done bathing.
As I sat there I became lost in thought, reflecting on the last 24 hours. My emotions were torturously conflicted. On the one hand, I was so happy to have met Jackson and I would cherish the short time we spent together for the rest of my life. I also felt amazingly liberated — meeting a man with whom I shared a very close connection and making love to him as if there was no tomorrow without all the anxiety and stress of being morally policed and threatened with violence if I failed to be a good Muslim woman.
On the other hand, that liberation came at a terrible price. I believe in love, loyalty and fidelity so I felt extremely disappointed in myself for betraying my fiancé. I feared that living with this betrayal and the lies to cover it up would tear me apart inside for the rest of my life. But I also kept thinking back to what Jackson said earlier, that going back to Brian and being the perfect wife to him from this day forward was the best way to truly honor him. What would Brian prefer, to know I cheated or to live in ignorant bliss? There was no way to find out.
Brian was a wonderful man and I loved him dearly, so I struggled over what it meant that I had achieved a sexual chemistry with Jackson more intense than what I had achieved with my fiancé. Was the taboo nature of our affair responsible for the higher intensity or was it that Jackson and I were just perfectly matched sexually? But that could not be the whole story because the way I worked, I could have never opened up to him sexually if we had not made a strong connection intellectually and socially.
It left me doubting whether a lifetime with Brian would be truly fulfilling for me or whether there would always be something missing. I finally reasoned that because Brian and I had continually made our relationship stronger over the past four years that if there was something missing we could build on it to improve. I resolved that I would go back to Brian and work on achieving that perfect sexual chemistry and anything else missing from our relationship. He deserved that.
A knock on the door brought me out of my deep contemplation. “You’re taking all day in there, my love, and I have to use it too. I’ve been holding it for 30 minutes and I can’t hold it any longer.”
‘Shit,’ I thought to myself. I wanted to shower and cleanse the air in there but I knew I couldn’t make him wait that long. “Give me one sec, babe,” I said, flushing and turning on the fan. I took an extra long time washing my hands. Looking in the mirror I saw that I was a hot mess. My hair was all over the place, like I had been fucked senseless throughout the entire evening. The thought brought a satisfied smile to my face. I turned off the water and took an equally long time drying my hands, trying my best to delay and let the fan take all the stinky air out.
“O-R-K-I-D-E-H,” I heard him say, drawn out. I could here him running in place trying to hold back his pee. I chuckled to myself and nervously opened the door, trying to close it behind me.
“You might want to wait two minutes,” I said softly, blushing. He grabbed my shoulders and gave me a quick kiss.
“Don’t worry about it. I have some of my own kids to drop off at the pool,” and with that he rushed me out of the way and raced into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
“I want to take a shower,” I yelled behind him, not yet getting his joke. With English as my third language, so many things often went over my head.
“We’ll shower together,” he shouted back through the closed door. I said OK and went to lie on the bed. I finally got the joke and I started laughing. He didn’t take as long as I did, only about 10 minutes. When I heard the water from the shower I knew it was OK to go back.
I found him inside brushing his teeth. I grabbed my toothbrush and started doing the same. He made room for me at the sink, stepping back to let me stand in front of him. He wrapped his free arm around me as we stood there, watching each other in the mirror. It was a pregnant moment as I thought about how my life might have been different if I had met him four years ago. I wondered what it would be like if we were standing in front of the mirror brushing our teeth together every morning, instead of just this one time. By the look in his eyes I guessed he was thinking the same.
He moved to spit and rinse out his mouth and while he dried his mouth with a towel I did the same. When finished he spun me around and kissed me so deeply I felt it in my toes. I kissed him back just as passionately, our tongues sliding together in a sensual dance. It was the one time in our lives that we would be able to kiss each other good morning and we both wanted to make it last. We stayed lipped locked for nearly 3 minutes enjoying the minty freshness of our mouths, breathing in each other’s breath and drinking each other’s saliva. We broke only long enough to step into the shower which had grown very hot and was now steaming up the room. As soon as we were under the water our lips found each other again.
Every minute or so he would break from kissing me and just hold me tightly to him, my face pressed into his chest. Squeezing me almost too tightly, his thick, muscular arms held onto me as if he never wanted to let me go. Each time this happened I took the opportunity to rub my face in the hairs on his chest while pushing my pelvis into him. Then suddenly, as if his mouth missed mine, we would be back kissing again.
We kept that up for nearly 10 minutes. Every kiss we shared still had the fire and intensity of our first. I could literally get lost in his plush lips. I loved sucking each one of them into my mouth, trying to keep it as my own. It was a precursor for everything we did that morning, drawn out to make it last, to make it special.
We were finally able to stop kissing and start washing after we had somehow managed to satiate our appetites for tasting each other’s mouths. Perhaps we were just hungry for other things. He certainly was, with a strong erection now pressed against my stomach. He had not touched me down below to see how wet I was but I’m sure he could tell from how hungrily I was kissing him. He washed me first this time. I pointed out my different products and he grabbed my shampoo and started washing my hair. It was very sensual and yet we were playful at the same time, joking like small children and laughing hysterically. I turned around to rinse my hair while I playfully rubbed my ass against his shaft which was hot to the touch, practically searing my ass in every spot it touched my tender skin. He then put conditioner in my hair and left it in to soak while he began to wash my body.
I gave him one of my exfoliating gloves and watched as he forced one of his large hands into it. It would never sink back to fit my hand again and I knew I would need to buy a new pair when I got home. It was a small price to pay for such a wonderful day. He started with my arms, lifting up each one to scrub my armpits. It tickled and I squirmed. He then washed my neck and my breasts. He took his time, a look of concentration on his face as he made sure to be gentle with my nipples. He attended to each one until they were hard and protruding, swollen dark purple with the blood surging within. It was the first real attention he had given to my breasts which surprised me.
My fiancé was a breast man; my boobs turned him on more than anything. They were only B cups, sometimes C if I was bloated. I never thought they were much to get excited about. Brian loved licking, sucking and cuming on my breasts and he particularly relished rubbing his cum into my skin afterward.
I liked how excited he got by it and I loved making him happy but it was never something I would desire if I didn’t know that he liked it so much. I’m the kind of girl who prefers her man to cum inside of her — either my pussy or my mouth — I just love the idea of keeping his love in me long after our lovemaking is over. But because of Brian’s tit fetish I had grown used to my breasts getting constant attention.
Jackson, on the other hand, seemed much more into smelling and tasting me which was more in line with my own personal deepest desires. I always thought that it was just the poet in me who loved to have my sense of smell and taste stimulated during sex, hungry for all my senses to be aroused. I got some of that with Brian but I never got to fully indulge my desires and gorge myself on those sensations, mostly out of fear that he would think that I was strange or worse, kinky and promiscuous. This was a first for me. I felt safe in my indulgence because Jackson seemed to relish doing the same to me.
I gently ran my fingers through his woolly hair to complete my sensory stimulation while I watched him pay careful attention to my breasts. When he was satisfied that they were clean he pushed me back further into the shower spray so that the water was just cascading over my shoulders, rinsing the soap off of my nipples. Jackson brought his face just under the tip of each of my breasts and let the water run into his open mouth.
I found it so erotic, his mouth teasing me with the prospect of closing around my nipple at any moment. Finally I couldn’t take it any more and showed one of my tits deep into his mouth. He sucked at my nipple hungrily, bathing it in long slow licks with his tongue. He lightly scraped my swollen nub with his teeth which drove me crazy. Then, holding my nipple with his teeth he began to whip it with his tongue at lightening speed.
He continued to do the same to my other breast, then switched again, breaking into a rhythm. While he put my nipples through this sweet torment, his fingers from the hand that was not sheathed in my exfoliating glove found my sex. They rubbed the slick wetness that was by that point covering my entire vulva and he knew it wasn’t water from the shower. Two of his fingers found their way inside of me and I moaned. They swished around inside me for a second then he pulled them out once they were nicely coated with my juices.
He stood fully upright and brought the fingers to his nose and inhaled deeply. I inched forward, the look on my face letting him know I was eager for my turn. I grabbed his shoulders and stood on my tip-toes as he leaned down to give me access. When his face was close to mine we both just smelled his sticky fingers together. I could smell all the cum he had shot deep inside me in addition to my own musky odor. He put one finger in his mouth and began to suck on it but held the other out for me. Because the angle wasn’t right I couldn’t get it into my mouth so I began to lick it. I could still taste his cum from our sex the night before. It was by then stale and a little sour but it was still the result of our lovemaking and I relished it all the same. The look in his eyes told me he did as well.
“Dirty girl,” he said after we had finished cleaning my juices off his fingers. “You still taste like our sex from last night. I guess I will have to wash you thoroughly.”
“Why, so you can get me dirty all over again?” I asked coyly.
“Precisely!” he said, giving me a deep but brief kiss. Then he went back to washing me. This time he started on my abdomen, making sure to clean out my belly button, then moved down to my legs skipping over my pussy. While washing my legs he felt my stubble and asked if he could shave me. The hair on my body is very faint and I don’t need to shave that often. But it had been four days which is about how long it takes to begin to really feel that there is hair growing there.
No man had ever asked to shave my legs before, it had always been something I handled on my own. My razor wasn’t even in the shower with me but in my bag on the sink. I was a little hesitant because I didn’t want him to cut me. It wasn’t that I was scared of being cut — I was scared of having to come up with a story to tell Brian if he found a cut on my leg. I never cut myself shaving, so he would think something was very strange if I showed up home with a shaving cut. But as I thought about the careful attention he was paying to my body while he washed me, I finally acquiesced.
I stepped out of the shower dripping water everywhere and retrieved my razor before rejoining him. I thought about asking him if he had done this before but thought better of it. I didn’t want to know. I just told him what direction to shave in and at what angle to hold the razor and then let him have at it.
He got down on his knees, sitting on his heels in the shower and asked me to bring one of my legs up, placing my foot on his thigh. He then lathered up my leg and began shaving me, taking his time, starting at my calf and working his way up. He went slow, feeling my calves, squeezing them with his large hangs, and concentrated deeply as he moved the razor along my skin. I couldn’t help but smile watching him. I would have been done with both legs in the time it took him to shave the bottom half of just my right but it was sweet watching him savor the experience. It was like he was worshiping the very skin I’m in — not because of its smoothness, its color or its hue, but just because it held me.
Every minute or so he would pause to kiss the inside of my thigh. Each kiss lingered, his tongue snaking out to lap at the skin around where his lips landed. Then he would go back to shaving me. Each time he broke to kiss me, his lips would come closer to my sex. I boldly spread my thighs to give him all the access he desired. Once he had switched legs, his kisses were so close to my sex that I could feel his cheeks rubbing against my outer lips, his chin stubbly and also in need of a shave. The sensation sent shivers up my spine.
By the time he was done shaving me he had done away with the pretense of kissing my thighs and was simply rubbing his entire face in my sex without ever using his lips or his tongue in my pussy or on my clit. It drove me crazy with need. I needed to cum. I wanted to flood his mouth with my juices but the bastard wasn’t ready to stop teasing me yet so he took his face out of my sex and went to washing my feet.
He basically gave me a foot massage with some soap. Still on his knees in the tub, he thoroughly kneaded the muscles in each of my feet, bringing me to a state of total relaxation. He carefully washed between each of my toes then rinsed them so he could suck on them. I was grateful that I had just painted my toenails mauve the night before I got on the plane. A flash of guilt then went through me, remembering that I had done that to look my best for my homecoming with Brian.
He brought me out of that guilt when he asked me to turn around so he could wash my back. He stood up behind me and I pressed my ass back against him to feel if he was still hard. I groaned as I felt that he was, indeed, still happy to see me. I stood up on my tiptoes, arching my back, hoping that he would just fuck me right then and there. With all the teasing and foreplay, I was more than ready. My pussy was ravenously hungry for him and I could tell by the strength of his erection pushed into the small of my back that he wanted to be inside me as well. He spread his legs and bent his knees a bit so he could get lower and slid his dick between my legs. His head slid easily between my slick folds but the angle wasn’t quite right for him to slide inside of me.
I tired to arch my pelvis some more to let him in but he didn’t work with me, preferring instead to continue sliding the head of his shaft back and forth between my folds, teasing my clit at the end of every stroke.
“Fuck me,” I moaned softly, crazy with need. My hips began undulating against him. I felt his lips press into my shoulder in response. He worked those succulent lips up my neck and to my ear.
“You know I will,” he whispered, “but let me savor you some more.”
“But I want you inside me now. I need you inside me now.”
“You know there’s no place else in this world I want to be,” he replied, but instead of thrusting into me like I wanted him to, he pulled his shaft from between my legs and slid it up between the cheeks of my ass and left it there while he began scrubbing my back. At first I was nervous that he was trying to be inside me in a different way. Thankfully that was not his intent. I tried to hug him by squeezing and releasing my ass cheeks. Each time I did I felt him throb, his shaft swelling with excitement.
It was very intimate which made it enjoyable so we stayed like that while he took his time washing and exfoliating my shoulders and below. With his free hand he reached around me to play with one of my nipples. I was going to die if he didn’t make me cum soon.
Perhaps sensing my need for greater stimulation, he decided it was finally time to wash my sex. He didn’t turn me around, though, but instead kept his throbbing shaft pressed between the cheeks of my ass while he did it. He took off my exfoliating glove and got his hand all lathered up then reached around me and brought it to my sex. He knew not to put soapy fingers inside of me and just used his hand to sensuously wash the folds of my pussy. He carefully let his fingers slide through my lips, all the way back to my perineum then back up to my clitoris. He did this several times, spending extra time on my clit with each pass. I pushed my hands against the shower wall for support, closed my eyes and just let him masturbate me under the pretense of cleaning me. My pussy continued to leak her juices faster than he could wipe them away.
When I was just about to cum with one more rub of my clit he stopped to rinse me. He spun me around to face him and then pushed me backwards until the water from the shower head was cascading over my shoulders again, running all the way down my body. Then he got down on his knees in front of me and watched as little rivers of water found their way down my stomach and through my sparse pubic hair to rinse my sex.
I was so close to pushing him down on his back and raping him right there in the shower, he just didn’t know. I looked down to glare at him, the feral look in my eyes making him chuckle. The thought occurred to me that if I sat on his face and forced my pussy down his throat that I could wipe that smug smile off of his face, and I wondered who the woman was having those thoughts.
His rinsed fingers sliding deep inside my pussy brought me some temporary relief from the need to violently rape him. Yet still he wasn’t completely finger fucking me. He kept pulling his fingers out and rinsing them, then sliding them back inside of me. Each time he slid two fingers into me he curled them up to press against that spongy spot on the front wall of my pussy, just enough to torment me, then removed his fingers to rinse them again.
The palm of his hand pressed into my clit each time, adding to the sweet torment. I was impressed that he knew how to properly wash a vagina but he was still driving me crazy. I desperately tried to fuck my pussy down on his hand each time his fingers found my opening. My hips shamelessly rocked back and forth and down on his hand, trying to make myself cum.
I thought he was finally going to give me some relief when his face approached my hungry pussy with an open mouth. But instead of devouring me like I needed him to, he just held his lips open under my sex and let the little rivulets of water drip into his mouth from my pussy lips, his eyes locked onto mine. When his mouth was full of water, he sealed his lips around the opening to my sex and shot warm water inside of me. I gasped. This was certainly a new experience for me. Then he pulled his face back a few inches and let my pussy rinse water run back into his mouth and then he swallowed it. I gasped again — this time not because of the sensation but because of the powerful and taboo visual imagery it made.
It looked like I was peeing in his mouth on his chin, and he was swallowing it willingly. Eagerly. Hungrily. Knowing that it wasn’t pee but just water mixed with my pussy juices made it incredibly erotic rather than disturbing. Seeing my reaction, he let his mouth fill back up with water and did it again, this time pausing to give my clit a teasing lick before pulling away and awaiting my return deluge. By the third time I couldn’t take the teasing any more and the passion took over. I reached down and grabbed the sides of his head after he had filled me with water. Next, I tilted my hips and squeezed my pussy muscles to squirt it out all over his face. Then I pulled his face into my sex forcefully and started grinding my pussy all over it and into his mouth.
To make sure he got the message that I couldn’t take his torment any longer and that I needed to cum, I decided to go further on the offensive with words.
“I can’t wait until I’m washing you,” I moaned as I fucked his face. “Get that dick all lathered up with my hands, wash you with my breasts… wash your balls so I can suck on each one of them, swirl them around in my mouth.” He groaned and dug his fingers into my ass. I knew I was getting to him. “Get you nice and clean so I can suck the head of your sweet cock down into my throat. You didn’t let me finish last night but you won’t get away from me this time. I’m going to drink every last drop of you,” I said breathlessly, amazed at myself being bold enough to talk so dirty to a man I had only met a day ago.
That did it. I came in an instant, grinding my pussy into his mouth as my juices gushed out of me, flooding his mouth with my nectar. He drank me thankfully, hungrily, and I held onto his head while I rode out my orgasm on his face. No sooner had the first one subsided then another one ran through me as a string of obscenities escaped my lips.
He hissed and stood up before me. I felt his cock swelling and throbbing with excitement as it bobbed between us, searching for my opening where it wanted to make a home. He forcefully pushed my back against the shower wall and impaled me on his shaft. I wrapped my legs around him in happy preparation for the onslaught I thought was coming.
He did not immediately begin to pound the bloody hell out of me like he had done the night before. Instead, he just held himself inside me while looking deep into my eyes. He was throbbing furiously. I tried to use my pussy to squeeze him back for every throb but it was hard to keep up.
He began taking deep breaths, looking like he was trying to regain the control of his body that I was clearly making him lose. I both admired it and hated it at the same time. When he seemed to have regained control he finished washing my body. He pushed me against the shower wall to help hold me up while he took the soap back into his hands. There wasn’t much left of me to wash but remembering the previous night I thought I knew what he was thinking. He surprised me instead by taking my face into his hands and gently washing it while he kissed me. All the while his cock throbbed inside me and I squeezed him in return.
When he was satisfied that my face was clean he reached underneath me to grab my ass. He walked us closer to the shower spray until just my face was underneath the water. While I rinsed my face his lips found me again, more passionately this time. That’s when he started fucking me. That’s also when one of his soapy fingers slid into my anus.
He took his time to wash me thoroughly. Last night with his lips and tongue torturing my clit the intensity built pretty quickly. But after two orgasms my body was relaxed enough to endure the prolonged stimulation. The feeling of his finger thrusting inside me while his dick was in my pussy had me feeling delightfully full of him in every way.
Beyond just fingering me he also seemed to really enjoy the exploration of my rectum. I could feel his finger wiggle around inside me, not just thrusting in and out. Occasionally he would switch fingers to his other hand, getting a feel for my insides from different angles. His tongue swirled in my mouth to match the action of his fingers while his cock continued to slowly slide in and out of me. It was kinky and naughty yet sweet and sensual at the same time. I loved every second of it.
I insisted we stop before he came when the water began to get cold. He had a look of slight disappointment until he saw the mischievous look in my eye that hinted at what I wanted — a promise fulfilled. I rinsed my bum and then we turned the water off and reached for towels. While he dried me, I dried off every part of him except for his cock, purposefully leaving it slimy with my juices. Then I led him back to the bed.
I positioned him sitting up with his back against the headboard with his legs spread wide. I crawled between them, licking the insides of his thighs as I went. I could feel his strong muscles inside and I resisted my sudden urge to lightly sink my teeth into one. I made my way to his balls and gently sucked them into my mouth. I used my tongue to slowly swirl them around as bathed them in my saliva. His cock bobbed and bounced against my forehead, literally jumping with impatience. I thought about cruelly making him wait just the way that he had done to me earlier but after one deep inhalation smelling his musky scent my own hunger got the best of me.
I let his balls slowly slip out of my hot sucking mouth and licked a slow trail up the underside of his penis, tasting myself as I went. I felt like such a dirty whore having this lurid affair in this strange hotel room but it all felt so invigoratingly liberating at the same time. I had positioned us in a way that was purposely submissive, letting him gaze down at me from above as I serviced him. I had never sucked a man off like this before, I had always felt more comfortable and in control making them lay down so I could be on top.
It would be false to say that I assumed this position as a matter of practicality, hoping that I could bend my neck back enough to slide more of his beautiful shaft down my throat. Truthfully, I was getting off on being his dirty little slut so submissively. I wanted to do what would turn him on the most so that when he came in my mouth he would shoot the biggest load possible, filling my belly and nourishing my body with his seed. I wanted him to completely lose himself in me.
“Every drop,” I said to him, looking up between licks to his swollen head. “I want every drop.” Then I put his head between my lips and sank down on him as far as I could go.
There is nothing in the world quite like the feel of a hard penis in one’s mouth. The velvety, spongy outside texture is a unique oral experience. I loved the contrast between the velvety soft exterior and the pulsing steely hardness just beneath. As young girls we were taught that righteous women did not use the mouth in lovemaking. What was so ironic is that such teachings were a radical departure from traditional Persian culture. Our pre-Muslim Persian ancestors had written books on how lovers should please each other with their mouths. What the strict Islamic teachings had actually done was plant in me a deep yearning to indulge in oral lovemaking. It was a deep secret that remained locked and hidden inside of me until I left Iran.
I have no doubt that my two Iranian boyfriends would have enjoyed what I secretly wanted to do to them with my mouth. The problem is that they would have treated me like a whore afterwards, and they wouldn’t have even returned the favor!
Back in my present, I realized I had actually gotten lost in my secret indulgence in sucking off Jackson. My tongue lapped at him lustfully, hungry for my reward. His arousal fed my energy which seemed to feed his arousal even more. I could feel his blood pulsing inside, causing his girth to expand in my mouth. It made me doubt that I could fully satiate my appetite and cram all of him inside my mouth and my throat. It wasn’t going to stop me from trying, though.
I looked up at his eyes to see how he was enjoying me. I saw the most feral look of lust staring back at me, almost making me blush. His eyes were half closed and his teeth were clenched, his breathing was ragged. I knew he was getting close and I redoubled my efforts, greedy for his pending explosion. Then he brought his hands down to move my hair out of the way so he could see me clearly and began to lovingly caress each side of my face while I sucked him.
I was getting off on his flavor, too. A steady stream of pre-cum oozed out of his tiny slit — a sweet appetizer of things to come. I sucked ravenously at his head and ran the tip of my tongue through his pee hole, starving for the bigger deluge. His smell was driving me crazy with desire as well. The closer my nose got to his pubes the stronger was his scent. I wanted to bury my nose there and take the biggest sniff possible.
I vowed I would do so the hard way rather than take him out of my mouth. I moved back on the bed a bit and tried to straighten out my neck. I bent his shaft down to put it in a line with my throat and then started my first attempt at a full descent. I was no more than half way before I started gagging but the feel of his dick hitting the tightness of my throat elicited a gasp from Jackson. I wanted to make him moan so I backed up and tried again.
I kept trying, each time taking a little bit more of him. I started to tear up and each time a tear rolled down my cheek he wiped it up with one of his thumbs and then brought the thumb to his mouth for a taste. The gesture so moved me that I steeled my resolve and sank my mouth back down around his throbbing cock. I did not stop until my nose was buried in his pubic hair.
“Oh shit!” he hissed between clenched teeth and a dribble of pre-cum ran down my throat. I came up coughing and realized I had been so scared and nervous that I forgot to fully smell him while I was down there. No sooner than I had stopped coughing than I descended again, this time taking in his full musky scent. My right hand instinctively reached up under me to begin rubbing my pussy only to find that it was a sodden mess! I was so slippery that it was difficult to keep my fingers on my clit. They just slid everywhere.
I thought I heard him whisper something just under his breath and I stopped momentarily to ask him to repeat it. He didn’t even hesitate repeating an obscenity that should have offended me. However, there was something about the loving way that he caressed my face in contrast to his talking dirty to me that ended up being a huge turn-on. I slammed my mouth back down on his cock, forcing my throat to take him fully. He moaned loudly.
Seeing my reaction to his dirty talk switched something in him. The perfect gentleman who had been lovingly caressing my face suddenly had an iron grip on my head with his fingers laced behind it. Those hands began to set the pace, pulling me onto his hardness while his hips began thrusting up off the bed to meet my lips.
They say to be careful of what you wish for. Well, I wanted him to lose himself in me but as he did I was suddenly scared for my life. Breathing was difficult but he seemed to be oblivious to my struggles at getting air in my lungs. His thrusts became more powerful and his low hanging balls began to slap me in the chin. He continued talking dirty to me, more loudly now, interspersed with groans and utterances that were indecipherable.
I guess you can say that he warned me that he was about to cum, however with a true warning one is given the chance to avoid what she is being warned against. There was no avoiding this and luckily I didn’t want to. I looked back into his eyes and tried to tell him with my own eyes just how much I wanted him and how much it meant to me. He seemed to understand and in that mutual moment of understanding his orgasm overtook him.
His head reared back and he roared as a torrent of cum exploded into my mouth. I whipped my tongue along the underside of his head as he came, causing his body to twitch and contort to my delight. His hips lifted up off the bed and his ass cheeks were squeezed tight as his cum splashed against my tonsils. I swallowed hard before the head of his cock forced its way back behind my esophagus. Spurt after spurt flooded my mouth and I tried to swallow as fast as I could, sucking on his shaft to make sure I got every drop. All of the obscenities continued while he came until eventually he became too sensitive and pushed my mouth away. He collapsed and I smiled contently.
He immediately pulled me up to him and locked his lips onto mine. We shared a slow sensual kiss that lasted for about fifteen minutes. It was a different kind of kiss — instead of being full of the urgency of lust it was instead full of the affirmation of affection. Because we were satiated we could just lay there cuddling and enjoy the kiss without feeling the need to move on to other things. It was only our growling stomachs that eventually caused us to stop and think about ordering some breakfast.
He grabbed the menu and picked up the phone while I went to go pee. When I came out he was ordering a huge American breakfast, with lots of bacon and sausage as well as fruit, waffles, and eggs.
“Hey, no pork, remember?” Some habits die hard with me, even if I wasn’t a devout Muslim woman.
“Oh yeah, my bad,” he said and switched up the order. Then he came to lie down next to me to continue our cuddling and kissing.
After a minute he moved me onto my stomach and began sensually rubbing my back and kissing me from my neck down my spine. I moaned in appreciation and settled into a position to allow him full access to my body to continue his message.
“Someone likes this,” he chuckled to himself. But I quickly found out that giving me a message with his hands wasn’t what was on his mind. He moved further down my body then lifted up my hips, leaving my head and shoulders down on the sheet. I felt completely exposed and extremely vulnerable. Every instinct in my body told me to roll over but I concentrated on trusting him and giving into the moment.
His arms circled my hips bringing my butt into his chest and his lips down against the small of my back while he hugged me. It was very sensual and sweet. He shifted his position behind me and his lips left a trail of kisses lower, thankfully avoiding my crack and instead kissing down my hip to my upper thigh. His lips alternated between each thigh, his tongue occasionally snaking out to taste my skin. Even though I had wiped away all the juices running out of me when I went to go pee I knew he could still taste me where I had been dripping down my thighs.
He could smell me, too, and I heard him inhaling deeply, taking in my scent. I was turned on just thinking about the view, the taste and the smell he was getting, knowing how much it was turning him on. I reached with my foot to feel between his legs. He was getting hard again. The thought made my pussy ooze.
“Oh my God, look at you!” he whispered, using his thumbs to open my lips so he could watch my pussy leak out her excitement. What he did next surprised me. I was ready for him to taste me but instead he pressed his nose directly into my pussy and began to take deep inhalations, snorting my juices right into his brain. Then he began to move his head back and forth and up and down, coating his entire face in my wetness. His lips, chin and nose rubbed directly over my clit, driving my excitement even further. Finally, his lips began sucking at my pussy while his tongue snaked inside. I groaned in ecstasy.
He used his hands to spread my ass cheeks so he could press his face down into me, sinking his tongue deeper into my flooded pussy. This brought his nose down directly over my anus and I squealed in embarrassment, trying to wiggle away from such intimate contact. He would have none of it, and I felt the strength of his hands increase the power of the grip he had on my butt cheeks. He held me firmly in place while he continued to eat me, seemingly not caring about the fact that his nose was pressed tightly against my asshole.
My mind struggled with the conflict. It felt heavenly to have his tongue sliding around inside me but I felt extremely self conscious to have his nose pressed up against my dirty place. Even though we had just got out of the shower and he had cleaned me thoroughly, in my culture assholes are never truly clean enough to go anywhere near another person’s mouth or nostrils. What made me feel even more self conscious is that I could feel him breathing through his nose. I could feel the warm air from each exhalation blowing over my exposed anus which felt quite… soothing, and then cool air from each inhalation blowing over me in the opposite direction making me tingle.
Despite the soothing and tingly feeling he was giving me, I was further mortified to know that he was smelling me there as opposed to my pussy. Even fresh from a bath, an asshole could never actually smell “good,” so I didn’t know whether to be disgusted that such smells didn’t bother him or to actually be touched that he was so concerned with bringing me pleasure that he didn’t care.
When his tongue dipped down to lick at my clit it pretty much ended the debate in my mind. Right or wrong I would have to figure it out later, as the pleasure at the moment was too divine to ignore. He took his time, going back and forth between sucking my clit and whipping it with his tongue and then moving up to drill his tongue down into my pussy.
When he was sucking my clit his nose sank back down into my pussy and while he was tongue fucking me his nose moved back up to press into my anus, leaving a wet trail of saliva and pussy juice over it. Being wet only served to heighten the sensation of the air moving back and forth over it, making me tingle even more.
I moaned my appreciation into the bed, hiding my face in the sheets from embarrassment. Then my body began to rock back into him, pressing my pussy back into him and making a further mess of his face. My body did this of her own accord… I had nothing to do with it, honest.
I was getting carried away. A few more minutes and I would cum all over his face. I hoped we could finish before the food came. My thrusts back against his face became more urgent and a terrifying thing happened. On one of its trips up from my clit to my pussy his tongue accidently went too far and swiped over my anus before finding its correct place down in my honey pot. I panicked and froze for a minute, fearful that my forceful thrusts had actually caused him to lick me there by accident. I prayed he would forgive me. The urgency of my pending orgasm was calling, though, so I gingerly began to thrust back against his sweet face again.
I was being careful not to get too carried away when I felt his tongue lick a trail up past the opening in my pussy and this time swirl around my anus before dipping back down to suck at my clit. This time I yelped. I couldn’t tell if the sound was from being mortified or because the feel of his tongue back there felt… exquisite! Why is it that the things that feel most heavenly are the ones that get us sent straight to hell?
I had no time to ponder such existential questions, as the work that his tongue was doing on my clit had me close. The buildup was torturously slow but I was really going to explode when I finally came. I held absolutely still, wanting to make sure there were no more slips of his tongue to the wrong places. His whole face was pressed into me, his nose buried in my pussy hole while his lips sucked my clit between his teeth so his tongue could perform butterfly licks against it. My moans became louder. I was close, oh so close.
The bloody bastard took his tongue off of my clit again and sank it down into my pussy. He was driving me crazy! Then it happened again. I wasn’t moving so I knew it couldn’t have been my fault. Was he actually doing this on purpose? Did he want to lick me there? His tongue left my pussy and lapped over my perineum to center itself on my wrinkled little star and then tried to push inside.
“Nooooo!” I screamed and tried to get away. His strong hands still held me firm so all I could do was to squeeze myself shut and try to deny him access. He laughed but he got the hint and went back to sucking on my clit. This time he had mercy on me and didn’t stop until my orgasm came exploding out of me, bathing his face in my juices. I mumbled incoherently with my face down in the sheets while my body contorted and my muscles twitched. It was one of those exhausting climaxes that seem to go on forever, truthfully lasting about two minutes.
Jackson sensed when my clit became too sensitive and moved his tongue to slide into my pussy and lap out my nectar. I could hear his own moans indicating how much he was savoring my flavor. I collapsed down fully onto the bed, my body in a total state of sated relaxation. Every muscle in my body felt like jelly. He kept hold of me and his face followed dutifully as my hips came down to rest. That’s when the cheeky bastard seized his opportunity to force his tongue down deep inside of my now totally relaxed asshole.
It took me a minute to scream from the shock. It took me another minute to find the energy to try and tighten my sphincter to squeeze him out. His strong hands continued to hold onto me forcefully and we began to wrestle as I tried to get away and his tongue tried to stay in my ass. That’s when we heard the knock on the door announcing that our food had arrived. Jackson pulled his face out of my ass just long enough to yell, “Be right there.” In that split second his grip on me loosened and I made my escape, leaping out of the bed.
“Damn you,” he said as I turned to look at him. He literally had a shit-eating grin on his face. Underneath that grin was a wild look that made my heart skip a beat. A feral hunger was in his eyes as his chest heaved with every breath. And he was fully hard again — painfully so from the looks of it. His shaft stood up proudly, throbbing with energy as pre-cum dribbled out of his tiny slit. Had tasting me there excited him that much? My pussy twitched at the thought that it might have, in spite of my revulsion at the act itself.
For a second, looking at the hunger in his eyes I thought he might just pounce on me and fuck me senseless while the person delivering our food just stood outside and listened. My pussy twitched again at that thought as well, realizing that I would let him. That really surprised me, as the thought of having sex before an audience never appealed to me before.
As I thought about it more, the turn on wouldn’t have been the person listening to us go at it. Instead, what was getting me hot was the thought that Jackson wanted me so bad and needed me so urgently that concern for anything else and all sense of decorum would be thrown out the window. I wanted the passion between us to make him lose control and drop his cool demeanor. I had gotten a small taste of that earlier when he fucked my mouth and came down my throat, and I realized I was hungry for more. But how much more? Was I prepared for what he might do to me if I totally made him lose it?
I turned red with embarrassment and ran to the closet to see if the hotel had robes. Luckily they did. He covered himself up in the sheets as I let the bellman in to deliver our breakfast. Even though I’m sure he had seen couples fooling around before, he could not resist his own sly smile at me while I pulled a couple of bills out to tip him. Even if we didn’t look guilty, the smell of sex was thick and heavy in the room. He was a total stranger and he was smelling my pussy whose scent filled the room, while my lover sat back in the bed, his erection making a slight tent in the sheets, and he still had that shit-eating grin on his face. I felt my face flush with heat as I turned all colors of crimson.
No sooner had the bellman left than Jackson was at my side, hugging me to him. He didn’t kiss me immediately. We paused for a second just looking into each other’s eyes. We didn’t need to say anything. He knew that he had brought me to a wonderful and powerful orgasm but he also knew that I was uncomfortable with the increased level of anal play. I tried to convey to him with my eyes and with my hands stroking his chest that the experience was still special to me, the intimacy of it all. His face reeked of me and I saw his tongue dart out to lick his beautifully full lips; those lips that had brought me such pleasure. I couldn’t take it any more, I kissed him deeply. Then we ravenously tore through the food.