wakening 4


I didn't think I'd continue with my story, but a few affair have happened lately that made me reconsider. One, Cleo ( the cleaning woman who helps me write this ) got so many answer asking what has happened since the first stories, that she persuaded me to continue. Secondly, my extreme behavioral and personality modification are something I'm still trying to understand. I've gone from a meek, naïve lilliputian animate being who thought sex was just something that made you have to clean-up afterward, to individual who will try almost anything - and can't seem to get plenty cock. See how I talk now ? Previously, I didn't use Book like dick, fuck, etc. Now, I think about it most of the time. Randy is the one mostly responsible for for this drastic change in me. Whether I love him or not, I don't know, but I just can't seem to get enough of his wonderful cock.

One of the question readers asks Cleo has been, did I leave my husband ? Yes, I did. I've been with Randy for two months now, following him to NY after he enticed me into leaving my husband of six year. I just left a note saying I'd met individual, and that Stu shouldn't try to encounter me. I didn't even have the guts to do it face-to-face. So call me figure. I deserve it. My family line is so pissed they won't talk of the town to me, and all my old friends think I'm crank, leaving a well-favoured guy like Stu for a big boggy Captain James Cook like Randy. Maybe I am crazy, but sex with Stu was like eating a filth sandwich, and him being the only man I'd ever slept with, I never even knew what I was missing. Randy came along with that Pakistani Dust stuff and nonsense he put in my drink one evening before he commenced fucking me like an animal all Night. After I'd had a preference of it though, I'd gone back for more. ( Awakenings 1-3 ). I was never the Saami after that. I speak of what happened in my before stories.

Randy and I fuck two, three meter a day - everyday ! I'll walk into the room totally unaware, and suddenly I'm jerked around, shoved facedown over the back of a couch or chairperson, and his big stopcock is slamming into me before I'm even fix. It makes short dispute to Randy which hole he enters - well, to either of us I suppose. Sometimes, he'll just take the air up to me while I'm recitation or watching TV, pull his cock out, wrap his hands in my pilus and shove it down my throat so far I can feel pubic hair against my lips. I revel in his barbarism, the anxiousness of possible suffocation, the way he shudders when he climaxes, and most of all, its penchant. I love it all. I don't know if Randy is a sex nut or just over-sexed, but he told me he's been this way since he was baker's dozen. He said that even at an early age, he'd jerk-off a dozen fourth dimension a day. He admitted he still does sometimes. Anyway, my libido is totally in mastery of me these days and yes, I've already cheated on Randy. It wasn't my fault though.

Randy's day off is Th, so we usually wait to use that"dust"stuff until Wednesday Nox. That way we'll have a day to recover before he returns to work on Friday. Believe me, we need it too. After six or eight orgasms, we are sore, fatigued, and totally exhausted for at least 24 hours. The rest of the week, we fuck without using Randy's dust. Even at that, we're still doing it at least a couple times a night. When there are league in town Randy has to work late, getting up before daybreak several solar day in a row. During those days, we abstain from tight sex. Being accustomed to regular sex almost daily, by the back or one-third day without it I'm climbing the wall. I practically attack him when he comes rest home on that last day. A couple weeks ago, he had to return to George Washington, D.C. ( the same shoes we just left ) for a week-long cooking class. That's when I did it. Fucked someone else, I mean. He knows about it now and still loves me, so I can pen about it. I was scared to death for a while, though. I think he may also ingest cheated with someone while he was gone, and maybe felt a little shamefaced because of it. Anyway, all is ticket now. By the way, he reads my narration here ! He loves ‘ em !

There's a park with a lake, near our condo. Randy and I walk there sometimes and I jog around the lake during the days Randy works. We were walking and feeding the ducks one even and I noticed a mathematical group of men near one of the bathrooms. I commented about it and Randy said if I needed to use the potty, to use one on the early side of the lake, nearer to the main road. He said these men were just a bunch of perverts. He went on to explain about glory-holes and all that, which I found really Weird - but kind of exciting, too. He admitted that he'd frequently gone to halo gob when he was younger, but quit visiting them because he'd been scared of getting a disease. The next day, I researched resplendence holes on the computer - and boy was I stunned ! The first gear affair I saw was a pretty blond with a Negroid member about the size of Randy's, stuck down her throat. She looked as if she were loving it. I'd never seen a black penis before. There were 12 of them on that situation, others too. I got so delirious I jumped Randy's bones as soon as he walked in that evening !

Well, about the third or twenty-five percent day he was gone to that cooking course of instruction in D.C., I was already climbing the rampart I wanted it so bad. The vibrator he bought for us didn't do a thing to relieve my frustrations, so I jogged mornings and afternoon. That didn't assistant much either. I was up to three air mile on my habitue jog around the lake when I had the urge to pee, really badly. The only citizenry in sight were two Hispanic American guy shooting hoops at the basketball courtyard, and one older ignominious man sitting on a commons workbench, a shipway down the block. I quickly ducked into the wash room area, but was confronted by a signal on the peeress room room access saying it was closed for fix. Desperate, I looked around carefully and then hurried inside the men's commode. There were several urinals and three kiosk. The number one stall also had an out of rules of order sign on the door and the last one was for disabled persons. I used the one in the center. There were holes in each paries of the minute stall ; pictures of penis, pussies, tits, stuff like that drawn all over the walls. I sat down and peed like a fountain for a minute or two, image flooding my already horny nous about all the matter that had happened there. The place even smelled like sex. As I reached for some tissue to make clean up, I heard footsteps at the movement room access. I froze, lifting my invertebrate foot so they couldn't be seen from outside.

Someone came in and entered the disabled stall. deliberate not to be seen through the muddle, I leaned forward and peeked through it. It was the older pitch-dark man I'd earlier seen sitting on the park bench. He stood there for a import before he began peeing. His turncock was really big. Every bit as large as Randy's, but also different. Sure it was black, but Randy is circumcised and this guy wasn't. It was the first uncut cock I'd ever seen, even on the reckoner. He kept pulling the foreskin back to let out its jacket crown, and then easing it back over the tip as he pissed. It looked like the big black snake I'd once see as a kid. I suddenly realized my back talk was filled with cotton and I was constantly licking my lips. I'd never seen a man pee before. He finally finished, shook that meaty disgraceful matter a few times - and then began to slowly stroke it. He turned to confront me, his cock steadily growing harder as he pulled his foreskin back and forth over the huge spongy tip. I felt that eye in its tip was staring straight person at me. Swallowing hard, attempting to breathe through my half-open mouth, I was trembling all over.

I thought, my god, he knows I'm watching !

He didn't say anything but he moved closer to the paries, pulling his foreskin all the way back to expose the indulgent point - holding it there. Transfixed, I stared at the thick cock jerking and throbbing only a few inch from my side. Suddenly, my sassing wasn't dry anymore. It was watering. I could not do this, I told myself, remembering Randy's Holy Writ of warning. There were frightfully diseases out there, some that could kill you. Besides, that nasty thing might be cruddy. .. maybe smell bad, too. I leaned closer to the opening move. So did he. There was a straighten out drop cloth of nectar on its tip, flatware, glistening, making my mouth water even more. I was so nigh to the hole that he must've seen my backtalk, for he shoved that big coffee head all the way through the hatchway. Without even thinking about it I stuck out my tongue and - licked that drop away - lovingly closing my mouth entirely over its head - swooning with pleasance. How does one explain the Brobdingnagian enjoyment of having a warm cock inside one's mouth ? It's electrifying, comforting, and extremely rouse, all at the Lapp time. I was in heaven.

The stalling was so narrow-minded I could comfortably sit on the toilet stool to lodge him. I nibbled gently at the unleash prepuce, enjoying that new experience. Then, I slid my wet sassing softly around-and-around on the head before licking down its entire length, then back up to the tip again. Reaching through the opening, I found his prominent egg and eased them through the pickle. With his compact rooster already in the space, the vauntingly nigrify sacks barely fit through the opening. Imagining them to be of a rich chocolate flavor, I gently sucked each nut into my mouth, savoring his oink of pleasance. I licked back up the large vein on the bottom of the meaty electric organ, and then forced my mouth down over the thick question, taking as much of it as I could stand. Choking, I momentarily backed off to catch my breath, and then immediately forced my head back down on it. He just let me work, not moving a muscle, grunting and sighing every once in a while when it felt really good. I could feel his thick vein and ridges as my lips moved over them, the awesome crown pushing into my gullet, forcing my throat open wider and wider, unrelenting as it went deeper. Eventually, I got most of it into my excruciate pharynx, feeling curly tomentum against my human face. I loved it. I began sucking in earnest, soaking up the pocket-sized sounds of pleasure he was making on the former position of the bulwark. This was where I belonged. If allowed, I could do it all day. I cupped his ball in one pocket-size hand, gripping the base of his rooster with the early - in total dominance of the situation. I felt every ridgepole on his awing cock, tasting his precious pre-cum, feeling his balls tighten as he neared release. Yes, yes, let me have it all, my psyche screamed. This total stranger was going to deck his balls into my stomach - and I wanted it. He came with a loud grunt - a long steady flow, warm, salty, hitting the roof of my mouth, coating my clapper, sliding down the working muscles of my throat to pool in my soft belly. I was trembling so badly I nearly fell off the bathroom stool, still holding onto his cock, licking, sucking and making love to it until he finally forced it from my mouth.

As I struggled to get my breathing under control, I sensed slim apparent movement behind me. Another cock protruded from the hole of the out-of-order stand. It was brownish, shorter and thicker, looking hard as teak. I thought it was probably one of the Hispanic bozo I'd seen playing basketball. I slid around on the stool and took it into my mouth, hearing a groan on the former side of meat of the thin wall. I wanted more. I hadn't had nearly enough. Precum immediately filled my rima oris and I knew this one wouldn't last long. Something tapped the wall behind me and I looked. The black guy had his cock through the hole again. I didn't hesitate. Pulling my jogging underdrawers down to my knees, I backed up to it, pulled my vagina lips apart and slip them around the bloated drumhead. Placing my hands against the paries in battlefront of me, I pushed back against what felt like a fence post attempting to come in me. It hurt. Stretching, burning, forcing my vagina walls apart, assaulting my most fond part. The bloated head finally gained entry and the burning got even tough as I forced myself backward, helping him profane me. The prick in my oral cavity suddenly exploded - gooey, rich, intoxicating. I swooned with joy. most of that black fencepost was finally inside me and I began to ride it as more juice lubricated my twat wall, helping him get even mysterious. Another cock replaced the first in the trap near my look, a Twin to the first one. I swallowed it.

I was fucking without idea, unconsciously floating, allowing both men to Ezra Loomis Pound into my willing body. Holding my sass open wide, I let that rooster gag me, steal my breath, threatening to submit me unconscious. I didn't concern. It all added to the absolute pleasure I was feeling. Bracing my mitt against one wall, I pressed my ass flat tire against the fix in the other bulwark, letting the calamitous man jibe into me without mercifulness, making my genu buckle as I quaked and trembled to each violent thrusting. With no warning, I suddenly blew apart with my orgasm, over and over, out of my point with the nastiness of it all, hot lava shooting into my vagina from behind, strangling on thick salty fluid running down my throat. Later, when I finally came to my pot again, I was kneeling on the muggy bathroom floor, covered with sweat, hair hanging in my eyes, feeling completely used-up. No one else was around
.
A penciled note lay near my left knee. Tuesdays and Th, is all it said.

I don't think of how I made it home, collapsing on my bed fully clothed, sleeping for hours. I awoke feeling ravaged, colly - and suddenly very scared. God, please don't let me consume gotten something bad from those men, I pleaded. I'll never do that again. I promise. Please.

Randy called two twenty-four hours later and told me his course of instruction had been extended for a calendar week due to a noted chef visiting the school from EEC. Slammed by the news and growing hornlike daily, my resolve quickly weakened. I'd lie in bed at Night after talking to Randy on the phone, fanaticizing about that uncivilized afternoon in the men's public convenience. I'd been assaulted for over an hr by three staring strangers, and finally thrown out like a used-up old whore. In substance, I'd been royally fucked and totally slaked for the first-class honours degree time since Randy left for D.C. Maybe my fearfulness about catching something were unfounded after all. Why would all those guys go there if they thought they'd get something bad ? I jogged past the place every day and looked over at the chemical group of men standing outside, convincing myself all my veneration were unfounded. I never saw the Negro guy with them. After a lonely weekend and a wine-soaked Mon, I jogged past the place again on Tuesday, to find it deserted - except for one person standing nearby - the older bleak guy. He watched me closely as I jogged by, unmoving, silent. It seemed that maybe Tues was some sort of off-day for the usual group.
My heartbeat increased rapidly as I ran past, range of a function flooding my mind of a previous afternoon in there. I would not give in to these impulse, I told myself. I felt my pace slowing, then walking, finally coming to a catch a half-block away. I looked back and saw the old man staring at me. He simply turned and walked inside. header down, hating my weakness, I followed. He was standing in the disabled cubicle's doorway, watching me. I couldn't play his eyes as I walked to the center of attention stall. Before I could even pretend to squat on the stool and pee, he reached in, grasped my wrist joint and pulled me with him into the disabled stall. It was much a bigger blank space than the other single ; with a stool and a sink.

He turned me, pushing down on my shoulders until I sat on the stool. Unzipping his fly, he just stood there until I finally got the gist of what he wanted and reached inside. Grasping his stiffening penis, I flopped it out, gasping again at its girth. I didn't have to be told what to do. I opened my mouth and went to wreak on that mythical objet d'art of meat, smooching, lacing, and sucking as he grunted and groaned above me. OK, so I was a weak dirty whore who sucked-off strangers in a populace restroom. I didn't care. That ardent stopcock in my back talk was all that mattered at the moment. I was cupping his warm testicle and felt them tightening as he got close to the end. I redoubled my effort, but he forced my nous off his leaking turncock, standing away from my working mouth, breathing heavily for a moment. I fought against his mitt, desperate to lick it once more.

Suddenly, he pulled me up, sliding my New Jersey shortstop down my legs until they fell free. I'm not very big, and despite being older, he was a big strong man. He simply lifted me and set me on his rearing cock, letting gravitational force pull up me downwards, impaling me like a butterfly. It was raw fire. It was agony. It was marvelous. I cried, squealed and moaned. He showed no mercifulness, standing with hands on his rosehip, staring into my optic, watching as my fear and pain turned to ask - then lust. We fucked like creature, oblivious to the outside world. Grunting and crying out our joy as he muttered,"White slut, pussy, whore. .. ”, unrelenting in his assault on my dead body. I came twice. He also came, but stayed hard, continuing to fuck me like he owned me. Tightening my legs around his waistline, I wrapped my weapon system around his neck as he lowered his psyche, swallowing my mouth. I willingly gave him my clapper, this tote up stranger, this black man, soul I'd never seen before, letting him do it by doing so that I was his to do whatever he wanted.

He fucked me for another ten or fifteen minutes, finally pulling me off his dick and turning me around. I bent forward, grasping the metal wait on bar running along the wall. He slammed into me from the rear, harder, even more forceful. Every few minutes he'd pause, prolonging his coming, then without any monition, he shoved the spongy head against my anus and the ardor started once more.

"Please,"I begged. Please. .."

"Shut up,"was all he said, burying himself to the bollock as I whimpered in annoyance. As with Randy though, before long I was helping him, pushing back, rotating my hips in cadency with his jab."That the way bitch, get on that dick,"he muttered.

I felt his release splattering into my bowels like a fire hose, sticky, warm and comforting. Abruptly, he pulled completely out of my fundament in one movement, as I whimpered in protest."Please,"I whispered."I haven't. .."
"Too bad,"he said, turning to the sink to wash himself. Just like that he was gone, leaving me huddled in that dirty stall, tears streaming down my typeface - and not getting that final release.

I don't know why no one came in that afternoon. I didn't even see anyone as I staggered out the door and walked up the way in the attenuation day, half-hoping I'd see one of the Hispanic guys. I probably looked like a fucked hooker. I certainly felt like one. I vowed never to do that again. Never.

Randy came home two days later and immediately sensed something was unseasonable. As soon as he entered, I wrapped my arms around his neck, just holding him close."Don't ever leave me again,"I whispered."Ever."I could see the soundless question in his eyes, but didn't tell him compensate then.

After a wild tear of uninhibited sex I finally broke down, cried a fiddling and told him what had happened in the park. Although he pretended otherwise, I sensed his initial anger not sincere. As he pressed me for details and I related them, I saw he was growing more excited by my story, getting hard as a railroad spike heel. I reached out and grasped his member, squeezing as I told him about backing up to receive the fateful man's thickset cock as I sucked another one. His breathing grew shallower, his hammer jumping as I went into the point of how it felt, how practically I had wanted it, and how soiled and degraded I'd felt afterward. He was actually enjoying what I'd done. I could recount.
"This excites you, doesn't it ?"I said, a short miffed at his reaction. He just stared down at me, kind of desperately, with a strained spirit that almost made me smile.

As I related my most Holocene epoch experience in the public restroom, squeezing the infrastructure of his cock frequently, I saw he was leaking fluid almost constantly. That meant he was close, so I eased off a bit, then went on. I told him I hadn't meant to go back, but I'd obediently followed the old man inside once I saw him again, telling him all that happened afterward. As soon as I got to the part about shoving that thing up my target, Randy shot a large white gob at least a foot in the air as I scrambled to get my lip over the head, to catch the rest. He came a lot, so he'd really been excited.

Afterward, pouting a while, I said,"You liked hearing that. I thought you said you loved me."

He smiled, touching my grimace."I do. Sir Thomas More than anything in the cosmos. If I love you, why wouldn't I want you to be happy ? bask your pleasure ? That's what make love means to me."

"Aren't you jealous ?"

"Sure. But that's percentage of it - what makes it so pleasant-tasting. Our sprightliness together will be so unlike than anything you've ever known. It'll be wild, exciting. .. and unpredictable. New things all the sentence. I promise, it'll never get old."

I climbed on top of him and rode him like a stallion for a long metre.

Since then as we walk past the car park 's toilet facility, when he sees a bunch of men outside, he does n't say anything. Where there are only two or three, he 'll sashay and eyebrow and say, '' Need to pee or anything ? ``

I know he wants me to do it agin so he can be part of it, but I 'll want to spend a penny him understand I will never do that that again. It was out of this world foul sex, but I did n't like the way I felt afterward.

The side by side day, Stu called my electric cell phone. He begged me to come back. He was crying. My day was totally stinky after that .