Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Note: This story makes more sense if you read the first three chapters.
*
I woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee. Anna was not next to me so I realized she must be downstairs. I found my jeans, got dressed, went into the bathroom to pee, splash some water on my face. I didn’t have my tooth brush, so I put some toothpaste on my finger and refreshed my mouth with it. When I entered the kitchen, Anna was at the counter. “Hi, stranger. Want some coffee?”
She was wearing a short kimono style robe with swirling flowers. It was loosely tied at the waist and came just below her ass. When she turned to hand me a mug of coffee, her tits were barely covered by the kimono. We clicked our coffee mugs like they were glasses of wine and she said, “Here’s to the rest of your journey.”
“Thanks,” I said. “And here’s to yours.”
“I’m glad we met,” she said. “You were a fantasy come true.”
“It was pretty hot,” I said. “Nothing like this has happened to me before.”
“There’s something so exciting about a one night stand with a stranger,” she said, then put her coffee down on the counter. She then surprised me by hopping up on the counter. She spread her legs and leaned back, looking me in the eyes.
“But what’s even better is fucking in the morning,” she said, kicking her dangling legs back and forth. “Especially after a cup of coffee,” she added.
Looking at her sitting on the counter with her legs spread wide got me hard. She smiled and her eyes invited me to come to her. I finished my coffee and stood between her open legs. I put my mug down and she wrapped her legs around me, her ankles at my ass and pulled me closer. She edged herself forward so that my bulging cock was pressed against her cunt. I put my hands on her tits, loving how her nipples felt though the silky material of her kimono.
Anna moaned as I rubbed her tits, “Ummmmmm that feels good,”
She then unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans and started playing with my hard cock. “You’re ready for a good morning fuck, aren’t you?” she said, then leaned forward and started licking my ear with her tongue. She then whispered in my ear. “Come on baby, fuck me. Fuck me hard!”
I don’t know where my strength came from, but I picked Anna up from the counter and carried her to the kitchen table with her legs wrapped around me. I laid her down on the table and then rammed my hard cock into her hot cunt.
“Fuck me,” she said as I thrust in her. “Give it to me hard.”
She was pulling me into her tight cunt and I was out of my mind with lust. I felt like an animal and she was responding by lifting her self off the table so that I would go deeper. “Fuck me! Come on, Fuck me harder”
We were looking into each others eyes as we fucked, urging each other on by the intense pleasure of our bodies. “You like this, don’t you?” I said, looking down at her.
“Yessss. Oh yes. I love it. Fuck me. I love your cock in me. Fuck me! Fuck me.”
“I’m going to cum in you,” I said.
“Cum in me, Give it to me. I want it!”
I was ramming into her, harder and faster and felt my sperm rising as I went in and out of her tight cunt.
I felt her body convulse as an orgasm swept through her and she bit into my shoulder to hold back a scream. Then she looked up at me and bit her lower lip. said, “I’m cummmming. Oh my god fuck me fuck me fuck me.”
My swollen cock burst with spurt after spurt as I thrust in and out. “Here I go,” I said and felt my climax explode as I pounded her cunt even harder, feeling her milk every ounce of sperm out of me. I then collapsed on top of her and for minutes could not move as her strong legs held me in her.
After a few minutes of hard breathing, Anna whispered into my ear, “Thank you stranger.”
I got up, pulled Anna off the table and we hugged for a minute. “So where are you off to?” she asked.
“I’m not sure.” I responded. “I have no destination. I’m just on the road for a few days then maybe I’ll head back home.”
“Give me your e-mail address and I’ll give you mine,” she said. “Maybe we’ll meet up again—only we won’t be strangers.”
“I’d like that,” I said. “I never expected to find such a nice bed to sleep in,” I said. “And I have a pretty good bed that would look good with you in it.” I still couldn’t believe I was having this kind of a conversation with a sexy young woman like Anna.
She walked me out to my car, holding my arm. She looked radiant in the morning sunlight. We didn’t speak. I opened the door and got in. She stood by the door and we smiled at each other. She waved as I backed out on to the road. It felt right to not even say goodbye.
I drove down a two lane road with a few houses scattered here and there. I was still in the middle of nowhere, amazed at the two sexy women I had met in one day and wondered what would happen next to make this journey even more memorable, if that was possible.
After two hours, I saw a sign that said, “Entering Frenchtown.” I crossed a bridge over a wide river and onto tuzla bayan escort the main street. I saw a sign, Left Bank Books and Café. “That’s interesting, a café right on the left bank of the river in a town called Frenchtown. I was reminded of Paris and the famous artists and writers who lived in Paris in the twenties. I decided to stop for a coffee and croissant and read for awhile.
It was late morning and the café was empty. It was tiny with books on all three walls, about eight tables and a counter with a variety of pastries. When I entered, a man wearing an apron at the counter greeted me. He had a goatee and wore a black beret. “Bon jour,” he said.
I wondered if he was living out some fantasy, but responded, “Bon jour.”
The coffee was self-serve. I got a mug from the counter, selected a croissant from the counter and sat at a table in the corner. I liked how informal the café was.
I looked over the books on the shelf behind me and saw a book, “The Birth of Tragedy” by Nietzsche. I reached for it and started turning the pages, stopping here and there, not really reading, but more browsing through it. I stopped at a sentence, “Truth is whatever is life-affirming; false is whatever denies or impedes growth.” I took a sip of coffee and let the book stay open to that page. I thought about my journey and the words, “life-affirming.”
While I was thinking, the door opened and a woman wearing faded tight jeans and a black tee-shirt entered, went to the counter and poured herself a coffee and sat down at a table at the opposite end of the café. I loved how sexy her round ass looked in those tight jeans. She had long straight blond hair and it was difficult to tell how old she was. I guessed about thirty-five. She was tan and looked as if she spent a lot of time outdoors. She took out a notebook from a large canvas bag and started writing. She was writing quickly and intensely, as if what she was writing was urgent. I tried reading my book but was fascinated by the woman and kept glancing at her, wondering what she was writing.
She then put her pen down, took a sip of her coffee and glanced over at me. Our eyes met, but quickly went back to her notebook and mine to the open page of my book. I read for a moment then looked over at her. She was reading her notebook, crossing out words and then continued writing. She then got up to pour her self another cup of coffee. I could not take my eyes off of her round ass in the tight jeans. She was thin with long legs. “What a beautiful woman,” I thought. “I wonder what she’s writing about.” She glanced over at me as she walked back to her table. Our eyes met. She sat down and started writing again. I tried reading but every few minutes looked over at her writing with such intensity.
Finally, she put her pen down, took a sip of her coffee and looked over at me. She closed her notebook. I closed the book I was reading. I looked at her and as our eyes met, she smiled. I smiled back. We didn’t move. We just looked at each other.
I was fascinated by her and it looked like she was fascinated by me. It was clear we wanted to meet each other, but we just stared at each others’ eyes and didn’t move.
She bit her bottom lip as she looked at me. Who was going to make the first move?
I felt my cock grow hard as I looked at her. There was definitely lust in the room.
Finally, I walked over to her table and sat down. She looked at me but didn’t speak.
I glanced down at her notebook. “I noticed you were writing pretty intensely,” I said.
“Yes. I always do.” she replied.
“What are you writing?” I asked. “Is that a journal?”
“No.” she said. “Are you always so nosey?” she asked.
“No,” I answered. “But I’m a writer and was curious about you.”
“I’m curious about you, too.” She said. “So what do you write?”
“Historical novels for young people,” I answered.
“Interesting,” she said.
“What do you write?” I asked.
“I’m not sure I should tell you,” she answered. She lowered her eyes and then looked up again and smiled. “You might get the wrong impression.”
“Why would I get the wrong impression?”
She took a sip of her coffee and picked up her notebook. “You look so intellectual,” she said. “You might think what I write is frivolous.”
“I’m not that intellectual,” I said. “And I doubt that what you write is frivolous.
You don’t look like a frivolous person.” I added.
She laughed. “Thanks. I’m not a frivolous person. In fact, I’m quite serious.
I take everything I do seriously.”
“I’m not surprised,” I said.
“Who are you?” she asked. “I’m Sharon.”
“I’m Thom, spelled with an h.”
“What are you doing in Frenchtown?” she asked.
“Good question.” I answered. “I left home yesterday like Huck Finn lighting out for the territory. My life was getting too civilized, too comfortable. Something made me get in my car and just take off.”
“Good for you,” Sharon said. “Living tuzla olgun escort hour by hour,” she added.
“I like that.”
“So what brought you to Frenchtown? I asked.
“My truck,” she said, laughing. “About twenty years ago. I left LA where I was a screen writer and came to this town, built a small cabin about a mile from here and I made a life for myself and my daughter. I hated LA and did not want to raise my daughter there.”
“What do you do besides write?” I asked.
“I’m a gardener for a few people.”
“That’s why you’re so tan and fit looking.” I said.
“Yep, I work pretty hard to put bread on the table and paying off my daughter’s college loans.”
“You’ve got a daughter who graduated college?” I asked. “You don’t look that old.”
“Well, I had her when I was eighteen and raised her without a father, so that’s the story. Now it’s just me and my horse.”
“I see.” I added. “Sounds like you know how to take care of yourself.”
“I get by. It’s a pretty quiet life. I live in an unfinished cabin with out a kitchen. I cook on a hot plate and keep things pretty simple.”
“So, are you going to tell me what you write?” I asked.
She looked at me, bit her lower lip before answering. “I write erotica.”
“Erotica,” I repeated. “Interesting, is that why you thought I might think it was frivolous?”
“I guess so,” she said. “I’ve written other kinds of stories but I like writing about sex. It’s a real turn on.”
“I haven’t read any erotica,” I said.
“You haven’t? She said. “Well, it’s got a bad reputation, but actually, there are some great writers of erotica, but like anything, there’s a lot of junk however, when it’s good, it’s really good.”
“I see,” I said. “I’ll have to check it out.”
She paused for a minute and looked at me. “Would you like to hear some?”
she asked.
“Here?” I answered, “in the middle of this café.”
“No, silly. Come to my cabin and I’ll read you some of what I’ve written.”
“You hardly know me. Are you sure?”
“I’d love to read to you. Come on, I’m only ten minutes from here and I don’t have any gardening jobs today.”
I could not believe this was happening to me–a sexy woman inviting me to her cabin to hear erotic stories.
When we walked to the counter, I offered to pay for her coffee. She was in front of me. Her faded tight jeans looked so sexy and I could see her nipples poking through her black tee shirt and knew this was going to be an exciting afternoon.
She got in to her big black pick-up truck with shovels and rakes in the back. I followed her out of town. We turned into a long lane that went through some woods and then into a clearing. Her cabin was charming and definitely half finished, but I was impressed that she built it herself. There was a lean-to shed and small fenced in yard with a horse looking at us as we drove up. “That’s Gypsy,” she said, “my best friend.”
I followed Sharon up an overgrown path to the cabin. She had a lot of plants on the steps. When we entered, it was filled with plants on all the tables and hanging baskets from the windows. She had one wall filled with books. She said, “I’ll put on some tea and then I’ll read to you.”
I looked around the small one room cabin and noticed a ladder going up to a loft. One wall was filled with photographs of a little girl at various stages of growing up. “Where’s your daughter now?” I asked.
“She’s a journalist in DC. She’s covering court cases but she’s written about some of the protest marches.”
“So, you’re both writers,” I said.
“Yes, except April gets paid for it,” she said. “I send my stories to a web site called Literotica. I don’t get paid but occasionally I get feedback. People seem to like my stories.”
Sharon put the tea on the round table next to the window. She picked up a folder and sat down across from me. “I want you to know I’ve never read these to anyone. You’re the first person. In fact, you’re the first man who has been in my cabin in years.”
“I’m surprised. Such a pretty woman doesn’t have men knocking down your door.”
“I like it that way.” She said. “But there was something about you that caught my interest. Maybe it’s your white beard.” she said. “I’ve always preferred older men, except around here, the older men are all married, drunks and usually both.”
“I’m flattered that you invited me to hear your stories,” I said. “It’s not everyday I get to hear a beautiful woman read erotica to me.”
“It’s a little scary for me,” she said. “I’ve never done this before, but I always follow my intuition and this feels right.”
Sharon opened up her folder and picked through the stories. “Here’s one I think you’ll like.” she said. “It’s called ‘The Pickup.”
“I’m all ears,” I said, taking a sip of tea.
She looked at me, smiled, cleared her throat and started reading.
The Pickup
It was a Friday night and I was horny. I decided to go on the prowl tuzla otele gelen escort and see if I could pick some guy up and bring him back to my bed. I knew it was dangerous but that added to the excitement. I got dressed in the black dress I bought for such occasions. It was tight and came mid-thigh. It was cut very low in the front and barely covered my tits. The push up bra I wore revealed a lot of cleavage. I put on a pair of black shiny boots that came just below my knee. I looked at myself in the mirror and said if this doesn’t hook me a man, nothing will. I put on a small black beret that added to the look. My long blond hair came half way down my back. I know what men like in women and I like showing my body off. I was out for the kill.”
Sharon glanced up at me to see how I was reacting. It was hard for me to believe the character she was creating and made me wonder if this was actually a fantasy of hers. I smiled and said, “Go on.” She took a sip of her tea and continued reading.
“I drove to my favorite bar called “The Pink Flamingo.” It was the place to go to meet people on the prowl. It was dark and usually had a good band. I went to the bar and ordered a Martini. The place was crowded with people dancing, grinding away with the music. I sipped my drink and looked around to see if I could see anyone who looked interesting. I turned around on my stool, leaned back so that my tits stood out. My legs were crossed and the black dress was high on my thighs. I knew it wouldn’t take long to lure some horny guy—someone as horny as me.
Just then I saw him and he saw me. He was standing on the other side of the room, with a glass in his hand. Our eyes met and he smiled and lifted his glass to me. I smiled back then turned around on my stool to face the bar. I took a sip of my drink and then glanced back at him and smiled again. I wanted him and was luring him to me. He came and stood next to me and smiled. He was tall with deep blue eyes and a dimple when he smiled. He had long brown hair and an earring dangling from one ear. He wore a tight maroon tee shirt and tight jeans—just the kind of guy that turned me on.”
Sharon stopped reading for a minute and bit her lower lip. She looked at me.
“Does this surprise you?” she asked.
“Yes, but I’m enjoying it.” I said. “You write well. It’s giving me a little insight into you,” I added. I didn’t tell her I was getting turned on hearing it. My cock was bulging in my jeans. I wondered if she was getting hot reading to me.
“I can’t believe I’m reading this to you.” she said. “I don’t know what got into me, to do this.”
“You’re a writer and you want to be heard,” I said. “Keep reading.”
She smiled and looked down at her story. She took another sip of tea, glanced back at me and started to read.
“Can I buy you another drink,” he asked.
“Sure,” I said. “I bet you want to get me drunk so you can fuck me,”
“I didn’t expect you to be so direct, but I think that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” I said, smiling coyly. “And why are you here?”
“To meet someone like you,” he said.
“I see. And do you like what you see?” I asked.
“I do. You’re beautiful and horny,” he said.
“You’re right and I could say the same about you.”
He ordered us two more drinks. He had his hand on my thigh and was inching it up towards my crotch. “You don’t waste time, do you?” I said, as I placed my hand on his.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.
“No, I like it. I’m getting hot with your hand there.” I said.
“Me, too,” he said, looking at my tits barely covered by my dress.”You’re
pretty hot looking.”
Our drinks came and I took a big hit of the Martini and he took a big sip of his scotch.
“Should we tell each other our real names or make up names? I asked.
“Names don’t matter. We’re not interested in a relationship, are we?” he said and smiled.
“No relationship. I just want to get fucked,” I said.
“Me too.”
I was drunk and leaned into him, my tits against his arm. He had his hand up my dress, gently squeezing my thigh. It was close to my cunt and he knew he was tantalizing me. I reached over and rubbed my hand up and down his cock. I could tell he was big and I was going to have a work out tonight.
“Come home with me,” I said. “I need you to fuck me.”
“Let’s go in the alley,” he said. “I need to fuck you now. I’m so horny.”
He grabbed my hand and we went outside and down an alley next to the bar. It was dark. He pushed me against the wall, lifted up my dress. I wasn’t wearing panties.I wanted him. I grabbed his balls and then unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock out. “Fuck me,” I said.
He turned me around, lifted up my dress. I bent over with my hands on the wall. He took his cock and moved it up and down my slit and then rammed into me as hard as he could.
“Oh god, fuck me. That’s it, fuck me hard,” I screamed, not caring if anyone heard me.”
Sharon looked at me. I looked at her. She bit her lower lip and I could see her nipples poking through her tee shirt. She was breathing heavily and was getting turned on by her own story. “Would you like to hear more?” she asked.
I nodded yes. Sharon glanced at the bulge in my jeans and smiled. “I can tell you like this story.”
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Bir yanıt bırakın