Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Four months. I couldn’t believe it, it happened again in only four damned months! My finger traced each line of the letter, my lips moving as I read, quickly, scanning it, my heart racing as I felt the old wound resurface. It was her again, I recognized the handwriting. This bitch was enjoying his company on every trip. She was even parading around as his wife! She wrote how she liked to tease him in public, then take him home and screw his brains out. She wrote about how she is bragging to all her friends about the two of them! She even included a line that told him how much she loved climaxing on his cock! At first, my hands trembled as I read each line, my eyes tearing up and dripping lines of wetness down my cheeks. After I re-read the letter, I got angry. A deep and furious anger that only a woman spurned can create. Tony had fucked around on me once. So I fucked around on him once, even getting pregnant by the man who took me in our bedroom. I had miscarried, but Tony knew I was serious about the consequences if he did it again. Evidently he didn’t take me seriously enough, or he was much stupider than I thought. Some bitch was trolling for Tony, and he was falling for it. Now it was my turn…
I didn’t even wait for him to come home. I figured that if he wanted another woman, then I could have another man. I snorted at that thought. Maybe even men, as I threatened him with last time. It was mid-afternoon when I finished the letter, and knew I had time to prepare before I went out. I showered and cleaned myself up, making sure my legs and armpits were shaved carefully, and that I was squeaky clean. A few dashes of perfume, and it was time to select the right dress for the occasion.
I looked through my closet, fingering each dress and blouse, a smile crossing my lips as I remembered my night with Eric, the blouse and skirt hanging together. I looked again at the long black satin halter dress, but still, it was too long, too concealing. As I kept looking, I thought of Eric, and wondered if I could find him again. Would he be willing to have me again? Should I tell him I had borne his child? All of these thoughts flowed through and over my mind as I finally found the perfect dress, dark, mysterious, and easy.
It was royal blue satin, backless and with a halter top, the bodice secured around my neck with a matching satin bow. The drape of the cool, slippery fabric down the front did a magnificent job of showing off my C-cup cleavage. This was the dress I was to wear at the corporate party where Tony was announced as the new Regional Manager. Tony and I had planned to go dancing afterwards, and the dress was a perfect tease for him, but I became violently ill with the flu, and Tony had to go it alone, the dress unused. The skirt was a perfect, high-waisted gathering of the rich, luxurious fabric, formed in a perfect circle that was hemmed just above my knees. It was longer than the skirt I wore with Eric, but the whole dress screamed sexiness. I reached into my drawer, and pulled out the same white thigh-high hose I wore with Eric, pulling them on, making sure there were no snags or runs. I chose the matching blue satin heels that we bought with the dress, and I was almost ready to go. I sat down for a moment, and had to think what I was going to do: spend an evening, spend the night, or even make true on my threat to spend the whole weekend with another man. Or men. I went back into the closet and retrieved my soft bag, and began to pack a few toiletries, including my pink satin robe, a couple of pairs of panties, since I wasn’t wearing any right then, sweats, and then I reached in for another few other outfits, two nice, and the other rather kinky, folding them neatly, hoping they wouldn’t wrinkle too badly.
I went to leave the house, taking a last look around. This was my last view of my home as a happy place. I didn’t know what was going to happen in the coming days, but one thing was sure. Either my husband was going to try and divorce me, an issue that would be made more difficult for him since my parents had considerable wealth and resources that Tony was interested in (yes, I was a spoiled little rich girl…) or our roles in our marriage were going to change. Either way, the little-girl dreams of a happy, wholesome family were fading as quickly as the sunlight of the coming night. I dropped his latest letter on the floor where he was sure to find it, and left the house.
I drove along the freeway, and pulled into the parking lot of the same club where I met Eric. It was still early on a Thursday evening, and the sun was just below the horizon, making it a little hard to see, even with the streetlights coming on. The late summer heat was beginning to be fanned by the sundowner winds, the fresh breeze feeling wonderful under my skirt, tickling my pubic hair. The lot was relatively empty, so I made sure to keep my skirt under control, lest the entire city get a look at my body. My nipples began to get hard from the soft folds of my satin bodice fluttering in the wind, and I had to take another breath as I began bahis firmaları to get caught up in the sensation.
My heels made the familiar click-clack on the sidewalk as I entered the club, the interior darker than I remember, but just as loud. Of course, at this hour, it was nearly empty, and the few men inside appeared to have been there all day, except for the table of men in business suits who looked like they had gone for a three-martini lunch, and stretched it out to include a keg of beer, too! I didn’t fashion the idea of being with a drunkard, so I turned and left, unable to control the back of my skirt as I exited the place, letting the whole joint see whatever my skirt floated high enough for them to see. It must have been something, as I heard some yelling and whistling as the door closed.
I looked about, trying to see options, and noticed that there was another place across the street. I stepped to the corner, my fingers on my skirt as the breeze gusted, waiting for the light to change. Just as the light turned green, I heard the loud blast of a siren behind me, and startling me as my path was quickly blocked by a police car! The instant the car stopped, out popped the biggest policeman I had ever seen!
“Hi!” he called loudly, “I haven’t seen you before… Who you workin’ for?” The blank look on my face must have demonstrated my total lack of comprehension. He smiled at me, and then apologized. “Sorry. We are working a vice sting down the street, and I thought you were a working girl!” My mouth opened in shock, as I finally realized what he was saying.
“Excuse me” I said with a touch of anger, holding up my left had so he could see my ring, “I am here to meet someone, but I assure you that I am not here to sell my body!” His eyes narrowed for a moment, then he asked to see my ID. I fished through my small clutch, and pulled out my driver’s license, doing my best to appear as lady-like as possible, my red-fingernails clashing harshly with the faded white card. He took the card, and looked me over once more, then went to his police car, obviously to check my records. I stood there and was embarrassed, especially as the breeze was pulling at my skirt, at one point threatening to expose myself to him, and ruining my plans. I took a couple of steps to one side, my toe nervously tapping the pavement as I waited for him to do whatever it was cops did. A few beeps on his car computer-thing and he stepped back to me, holding my license out. I took it daintily as he took a harsh look at me.
“Lady, I don’t know what you are up to, but I suspect it is no good. Unfortunately, you are clean, and I can’t stop you. But it is very obvious to me that you do not belong here. I suggest you get yourself back home before it gets too dark. I don’t want to have to arrest you later, or worse, call the coroner and your husband while standing over your dead body… Got it?” His last question really was more of an order, and I could merely nod my head, and flash a weak smile. With that admonishment, he got back in his car, making the remark that my outfit made it look like I might be a working girl. A high-priced one, but still a hooker.
I glared at him as he roared off, forced to stand there as the signal had changed again. As I fumed for a moment, I realized the delicious irony that I was not going to sell my body, but was planning on giving it away! The light finally changed, and I strutted across the street, taking my time, letting my hips and body do some of the communicating for me with the several people I crossed paths with.
I did my best to ignore the surreptitious glances and outright lecherous stares by the men I passed, and even one or two ladies, as well! I shuddered inwardly when the thought of a woman being interested in me dawned. I know that there were men who fantasized about being with two women, or watching as the two women were together, but I definitely was not one of those women! The last fading rays of sunshine faded, and night fell, almost with a thump, like they say in the movies. As my heels click-clacked down the sidewalk, my breeze began to get a little stronger, and it took more effort to control my skirt. The filmy satin floated about with every step, my pussy getting excited as the breeze tickled my bikini-trimmed hair, and my nipples rising as the soft satin covering them teased and tickled them.
I crossed an alley to get to the entrance of the club I saw, and glanced down it. It looked like any old alley, dark, dirty, and scary (at least to me), and I could see a couple of guys down there, sitting on the ground, leaning against one of the buildings. They were filthy dirty, and obviously homeless. I felt sad for them, a pang of guilt flashing through me as I looked at them, making eye contact. Their sad eyes telling me a story of horrors and sadness that I could not really associate with. My skirt was flitting about pretty hard by now, and I was sure they got a good look at me, before I realized I was gawking and needed to be on my way. I continued to the next doorway, muffled hip-hop kaçak iddaa music now blaring from it.
As dark was it was outside, it still took a moment for my eyes to adjust inside the room. The place was flooded with black light, the walls adorned with day-glo artwork and posters that literally glowed in the dark. It was actually a pretty neat display, and my eyes were drawn to the various splashes of color and light as I took steps toward the bar area. I found a small table, and took a seat. I smoothed the hem of my skirt out as I sat there, my eyes looking around. As I looked about, I began to realize that the place was actually fairly busy, but not crowded, with patrons. The one thing I did notice was that none of them seemed to be caucasian, and there were many pairs of eyes on me.
Like my first tryst, it made me feel very uncomfortable, and I unconsciously gulped down a load of fear, and remembering that my last time with a black man was exquisite, I let a small smile crease my face. A waitress in a uniform even smaller than my dress came over, and I ordered a glass of Chablis, which arrived quickly. I took a sip of the chilled liquid, the heavy beat of the music reverberating though my body, my stomach bouncing with every drumbeat. More patrons entered, and I was glad my table was tucked away to the side of the room. As the sound system boomed, I found my body beginning to react to the beat, my head nodding in time my shoulders took turns shrugging to match the pulse of the music.
I had gone about halfway through my Chablis when the first gentleman joined me. He was slender, almost to the point of being gaunt, and not very tall. I thought that if I stood up, he would actually be shorter than me! He smiled as he sat at the table, and asked if I wanted another drink, to which I declined, and he left, muttering I was a cock tease who would be put in my place. I ignored this threat and continued to just sit and watch the room, taking smaller sips of wine so I wouldn’t get tipsy. Another black man approached me, and I have to admit he was rather stunning. My mouth must have dropped open as he approached, his well over six foot frame topped by a wide smile of very bright teeth. He was bald, and in his dark shirt and tan slacks looked very nice. He leaned to my ear, and asked rather nicely if he may join me. I simply smiled and motioned to the empty seat.
He said his name was Dewan, and offered to refill my glass, since my Chablis was just about gone. I nodded my head and said thanks, and gave him my name. His next question was rather predictable, wondering why I was there. I hesitated for a moment, then began to tell him a tale of being there to meet a friend of mine, and as I lay my hand on the table as I gestured, he reached out and covered mine with his. As he did so, he held up his other hand to silence my rather lame explanation.
“I can feel your ring under my hand” he said, “now what are you really after?” The smile on his face seemed to be rather genuine, so I took a moment to consider, and tried another line.
“I’ve been married for years, and my husband has been the only man I have been with,” I began, “and I am curious. Curious about what they say about black men, and I want to find the right man to show me. My husband is out of town on business, and won’t know about this. I figure this is my only chance to find out what I may have missed!” Dewan left his hand on mine and leaned forward to kiss me. I tilted my head and felt the tingle of a small kiss, as his lips caressed mine. Our kiss was interrupted by the waitress bringing more wine for me, and a drink for Dewan.
Dewan smiled and took a drink, offering a small toast as he did so, which I returned, taking a small sip. We made some small talk, and he asked more about me, some of which I answered truthfully, and others I did not, careful to answer with lies that were easy to keep straight, such as where I lived, my husband’s name, things like that. In turn, he told me where he lived, near-by as it turned out, what he did for a living, and things like that.
As we talked, the place filled up with people, including a white couple or two, as well as a few other white women. At one point, my chair got bumped into rather severely, and as I turned, I recognized the slender black man whom I had turned down. Turning back, I saw Dewan just smiling at me, asking if I was alright. I took another sip of wine, barely noticing the small fizz disappearing as I picked up the glass. We resumed talking, and I asked him what he was doing here, and he told me it was a great place to meet women. He even told me that he liked to be with white women, as he thought we were more willing in bed, and that he really liked wives, as he liked having a white wife as a conquest. I was somewhat taken aback by that, and asked him how many wives he had been with, and he told me he had no idea! My heart was fluttering by now, and I felt myself getting quite warm, and I was sure it was because of the direction the conversation was taking.
I giggled and began to flirt with kaçak bahis him more, smiling and leaning forward, letting him get deeper views of my cleavage, and letting him hold my hand. After a few more questions back and forth, I turned up the heat, and asked him what he wanted to do with me. His answer was surprising, as he merely scooted his chair closer to mine, and pulled my hand off the table and onto his crotch! My fingers instinctively began to grasp the bulge through his trousers, and I gasped then giggled at the size! I began to blush as he told me about throwing me on top of our table, ripping my panties off, and fucking me in front of everyone. I felt the heat of his words course through me, and I couldn’t resist the urge, so I lifted my hand from his cock and grasped his wrist, pulling his hand towards my thigh. I let his fingers touch my skin, then began to draw then up my thigh to the hem of my satin circle skirt.
His touch made my my heart race, and I began to get a little woozy, but kept the pressure on, sliding first his fingers, then his whole hand, under my skirt, until I could feel his touch at my hip. His fingers started to do their own walking, and I could only smile widely, and blush with glassy eyes as he discovered my secret! His eyes widened only slightly, and he smiled as he felt around my body, the soft folds of satin easily yielding to his reach, his fingers finally brushing against to top of my pubic area, his fingers flicking my pubic hair!
I sighed heavily, reveling in his touch as he slid his hand down the inside of my thigh, and I spread my legs for him slightly. As his hand came out from under my skirt, he smiled at me and said it was time to leave. As we rose, I weaved a bit on my feet, and a furrow creased my brow as I realized something wasn’t quite right, but couldn’t figure out what it was. I looked down on the seat of my chair, and saw the tell-tale sliver of wetness my body left behind. Dewan wrapped his arm around my waist, and escorting me towards the exit, my footsteps slightly unsettled, almost like I was inebriated. I no longer cared about the other men staring at me as we left the building, stepping onto the sidewalk.
It was completely dark by now, and the warm summer breeze briskly rushing past. The hem of my skirt flew with it, the hemline rising and falling, exposing my body to everyone on the street. Dewan escorted me down the sidewalk, letting my skirt fly immodestly, and turned down the alley, the same one I had seen the homeless men in. I no longer cared about them, only eager for what I wanted Dewan to do to me. My heels echoed against the brick walls as we stepped, my feet kicking the odd empty bottle or can. Soon we were deep at the dead end of the alley, in the dark, and I was alone with Dewan, and several other men, all of them homeless. The alley was formed a perfect wind tunnel, the flowing in an updraft, taking the hem of my skirt with it, the satin flapping at my breasts as my pussy was fully exposed!
Dewan grabbed my shoulders and kissed me, my mouth open and tongue seeking his hungrily as we kissed. My hands hung limply at my sides at first, then sort of began to move by themselves, reaching between us for his manhood. His hands began to rove over my body, sliding over the satin covering me, my breasts and nipples full and tense as the passion rose inside me. I heard some voices murmuring as Dewan and I began to get more intense, kissing and fondling as I struggled to get his pants open. Dewan chuckled a bit as I struggled, as of course he had no difficulty accessing my body, and I finally got his pants open, my hand diving in to withdraw his cock. I didn’t waste even a moment, and rotated my hips towards his cock, my fingers rubbing it against my crotch and clit as we stood there in front of everyone. I didn’t care! I wanted to fuck!
Dewan turned me around and pushed me against the wall and I bent over to reach it with my outstretched arms. My skirt floated onto my back, and Dewan pushed my thighs apart with his hands. I moaned as I felt his touch, and hissed through my teeth for him to fuck me, and fuck me hard! His answer was to push his cock at my tunnel, forcing my labia apart and entering me. My back arching as he did so, my voice a loud gasp as he took me deeply. My mind flashed for a moment on my time with Eric, and his cock inside me, and I began to tense my stomach, my vagina clenching on Dewan’s shaft.
He began to thrust in me, and I made no pretense about being quiet. I was immediately moaning with each thrust, my voice grunting softly when he pushed against my sweet spot. I was a bitch in heat, and wanted to fuck like one! My voice became louder as he kept at me, and I shuddered violently when I was surprised by my first climax! I squealed and praised his mighty cock, and ebony rod of enormous power. I begged him to fuck me more and more, until his own pace became a frenzy, and he thrust forcefully into me, lifting my feet off the ground! He growled as his cock erupted in me, flooding my body with his sperm. He grasped my hair and pulled my upright, his cock still inside me as it softened. I heard him murmur in my ear that I would make an excellent hooker, if I ever wanted to, and he would pimp me, and that together we would make a lot of money!
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32