awakening 4


I didn't think I'd continue with my tarradiddle, but a few things have happened lately that made me reconsider. One, Cleo ( the woman who helps me write this ) got so many reception asking what has happened since the first narrative, that she persuaded me to persist in. Secondly, my extreme behavioural and personality alteration are something I'm still trying to understand. I've gone from a meek, naïve little creature who thought sex was just something that made you have to clean-up afterward, to someone who will try almost anything - and can't seem to get enough cock. See how I talk now ? Previously, I didn't use words like cock, fuck, etc. Now, I think about it most of the time. Randy is the one mostly responsible for this drastic alteration in me. Whether I love him or not, I don't know, but I just can't seem to get enough of his terrific cock.

One of the questions reader 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 days. I just left a bill saying I'd met someone, and that Stu shouldn't try to discover me. I didn't even have the gut to do it face-to-face. So call me names. I deserve it. My family is so nettled they won't talk to me, and all my old friends think I'm Nut, leaving a better-looking guy like Stu for a big sloppy Cook like Randy. Maybe I am crazy, but sex with Stu was like eating a grime 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 poppycock he put in my drink one eventide before he commenced fucking me like an beast all night. After I'd had a discernment of it though, I'd gone back for more. ( Awakenings 1-3 ). I was never the Lapp after that. I speak of what happened in my in the beginning stories.

Randy and I fuck two, three times a day - everyday ! I'll walk into the room totally unaware, and suddenly I'm jerked around, shoved facedown over the rear of a couch or chair, and his big cock is slamming into me before I'm even cook. It makes little difference to Randy which hole he enters - well, to either of us I suppose. Sometimes, he'll just walk up to me while I'm meter reading or watching TV, pull his cock out, wrap his hands in my hair and stuff it down my throat so far I can finger pubic hair against my rim. I revel in his brutality, the anxiety of possible suffocation, the way he shudders when he climaxes, and most of all, its taste. I love it all. I don't know if Randy is a sex addict or just over-sexed, but he told me he's been this way since he was thirteen. He said that even at an ahead of time age, he'd wanker a 12 times a day. He admitted he still does sometimes. Anyway, my libido is totally in control of me these days and yes, I've already cheated on Randy. It wasn't my fault though.

Randy's day off is Thursday, so we usually wait to use that"junk"stuff until Wednesday night. That way we'll have a day to retrieve before he returns to play 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 junk. Even at that, we're still doing it at least a couple times a night. When there are conference in townspeople Randy has to work late, getting up before aurora several twenty-four hour period in a row. During those days, we abstain from rigorous sex. Being accustomed to regular sex almost daily, by the second or third day without it I'm climbing the rampart. I practically attack him when he comes family on that last day. A couple workweek ago, he had to return to Washington, D.C. ( the Saame home we just left ) for a week-long cooking stratum. That's when I did it. Fucked someone else, I mean. He knows about it now and still loves me, so I can write about it. I was scared to death for a while, though. I think he may also have cheated with someone while he was gone, and maybe felt a piddling guilty because of it. Anyway, all is all right now. By the way, he reads my stories 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 duck one eve and I noticed a grouping 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 principal 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 aureole holes when he was younger, but quit visiting them because he'd been scared of getting a disease. The next day, I researched glory holes on the figurer - and boy was I stunned ! The first affair I saw was a pretty blond with a blackened penis about the size of Randy's, stuck down her throat. She looked as if she were loving it. I'd never seen a black member before. There were dozens of them on that land site, others too. I got so excited I jumped Randy's bone as soon as he walked in that even !

well, about the thirdly or fourth day he was gone to that cooking class in District of Columbia, I was already climbing the bulwark I wanted it so bad. The vibrator he bought for us didn't do a thing to relieve my thwarting, so I jogged mornings and good afternoon. That didn't assistance much either. I was up to three naut mi on my regular jog around the lake when I had the itch to pee, really badly. The only the great unwashed in sight were two Hispanic American Guy shooting wicket at the basketball game court, and one older Black person man sitting on a ballpark judiciary, a mode down the mental block. I quickly ducked into the restroom arena, but was confronted by a star sign on the gentlewoman room door saying it was closed for repairs. Desperate, I looked around carefully and then hurried inside the men's toilet. There were several urinals and three stalls. The first sales booth also had an out of parliamentary procedure sign on the door and the last one was for disabled persons. I used the one in the center. There were gob in each paries of the specialise stall ; word-painting of member, puss, bosom, material like that drawn all over the walls. I sat down and peed like a fountain for a mo or two, image flooding my already horny mind about all the things that had happened there. The station even smelled like sex. As I reached for some tissue to cleanse up, I heard footstep at the face threshold. I froze, lifting my feet so they couldn't be seen from outside.

Someone came in and entered the disabled stall. Careful not to be seen through the hole, I leaned forward and peeked through it. It was the onetime disastrous man I'd earliest seen sitting on the Park Bench. He stood there for a moment before he began peeing. His cock was really big. Every bit as large as Randy's, but also different. sure enough it was mordant, but Randy is circumcised and this guy wasn't. It was the initiative uncut dick I'd ever seen, even on the computer. He kept pulling the foreskin back to expose its crown, and then easing it back over the tip as he pissed. It looked like the large disastrous snake I'd once see as a kid. I suddenly realized my mouth 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 smutty matter a few times - and then began to slowly stroke it. He turned to face me, his cock steadily growing harder as he pulled his foreskin back and forth over the immense spongy crown. I felt that eye in its tip was staring straight at me. Swallowing surd, attempting to pass off 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 wall, pulling his foreskin all the way back to display the flaccid point - holding it there. Transfixed, I stared at the thick tool jerking and throbbing only a few inches from my face. Suddenly, my mouth wasn't dry anymore. It was watering. I could not do this, I told myself, remembering Randy's words of warning. There were awful diseases out there, some that could stamp out you. Besides, that nasty affair might be filthy. .. maybe smell bad, too. I leaned closer to the gap. So did he. There was a open drop-off of nectar on its tip, silver, glistening, making my oral fissure water even more. I was so close to the hole that he must've seen my mouth, for he shoved that big chocolate read/write head all the way through the opening. Without even thinking about it I stuck out my lingua and - licked that drib away - lovingly closing my mouth entirely over its capitulum - swooning with pleasure. How does one explain the vast delectation of having a affectionate cock inside one's oral fissure ? It's electrifying, comforting, and extremely rouse, all at the same clip. I was in heaven.

The stall was so narrow I could comfortably sit on the toilet stool to reconcile him. I nibbled gently at the promiscuous foreskin, enjoying that new experience. Then, I slid my wet lips 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 with child Lucille Ball and eased them through the mess. With his fatheaded cock already in the distance, the big Shirley Temple Black sacks barely fit through the scuttle. Imagining them to be of a deep hot chocolate look, I gently sucked each nut into my sassing, savoring his grunt of pleasure. I licked back up the large venous blood vessel on the ass of the meaty organ, and then forced my rima oris down over the deep headway, taking as much of it as I could stand. strangulation, I momentarily backed off to catch my breathing time, and then immediately forced my mind 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 sense his thick vena 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 nearly of it into my torture throat, feeling curly tomentum against my face. I loved it. I began sucking in earnest, soaking up the pocket-sized sound of delight he was making on the other face of the wall. This was where I belonged. If allowed, I could do it all day. I cupped his balls in one small deal, gripping the radical of his putz with the former - in sum restraint of the situation. I felt every ridge on his awful putz, tasting his precious pre-cum, feeling his globe tighten as he neared loss. Yes, yes, let me experience it all, my wit screamed. This add together unknown was going to dump his balls into my tummy - and I wanted it. He came with a tawdry grunt - a yearn steady stream, warm, salty, hitting the ceiling of my mouth, coating my tongue, sliding down the working muscles of my throat to pool in my delicate belly. I was trembling so badly I nearly fell off the toilet stool, still holding onto his rooster, licking, sucking and making erotic love to it until he finally forced it from my backtalk.

As I struggled to get my breathing under control, I sensed slight movement behind me. Another shaft protruded from the muddle of the out-of-order stall. It was brown, shorter and thicker, looking hard as teakwood. I thought it was probably one of the Hispanic guy cable I'd seen playing basketball. I slid around on the potty and took it into my rima oris, hearing a moan on the other side of the flimsy rampart. I wanted more. I hadn't had nearly enough. Precum immediately filled my oral cavity and I knew this one wouldn't final stage long. Something tapped the bulwark behind me and I looked. The opprobrious guy had his cock through the hole again. I didn't hesitate. Pulling my jogging shorts down to my stifle, I backed up to it, pulled my vagina sassing apart and slid them around the bloated head. Placing my hands against the paries in front man of me, I pushed back against what felt like a fencing post attempting to enter me. It hurt. stretching, burning, forcing my vagina walls apart, assaulting my well-nigh tender part. The bloated head finally gained entry and the burning got even worse as I forced myself backward, helping him go against me. The pecker in my mouth suddenly exploded - gooey, rich, intoxicating. I swooned with pleasance. near of that black fencepost was finally inside me and I began to mount it as more juices lubricated my pussy bulwark, helping him get even deep. Another rooster replaced the initiatory in the hole near my brass, a twin to the first one. I swallowed it.

I was fucking without thought process, unconsciously floating, allowing both men to pound into my willing body. Holding my mouth open wide, I let that shaft gag me, steal my breathing space, threatening to render me unconscious mind. I didn't concern. It all added to the absolute delight I was feeling. Bracing my hands against one rampart, I pressed my ass flat tire against the hole in the former wall, letting the blacken man slam into me without mercy, making my knee buckle as I quaked and trembled to each violent driving force. With no warning, I suddenly blew apart with my sexual climax, over and over, out of my school principal with the filth of it all, hot lava shooting into my vagina from behind, strangling on midst salty fluid running down my throat. Later, when I finally came to my weed again, I was kneeling on the sticky bathroom base, covered with sweat, hair hanging in my eyes, feeling completely used-up. No one else was around
.
A pencilled note lay near my left genu. Tuesdays and Thursdays, is all it said.

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

Randy called two days later and told me his class had been extended for a workweek due to a noted chef visiting the school from EC. Slammed by the tidings and growing randy daily, my conclude quickly weakened. I'd lie in bed at nighttime after talking to Randy on the earpiece, fanaticizing about that unfounded afternoon in the men's public toilet. I'd been assaulted for over an minute by three arrant strangers, and finally thrown out like a used-up old whore. In essence, I'd been royally fucked and totally gratify for the first metre since Randy left for D.C. Maybe my fears 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 office every day and looked over at the group of men standing outside, convincing myself all my veneration were unfounded. I never saw the blackness guy with them. After a lone weekend and a wine-soaked Monday, I jogged past the piazza again on Tues, to find it deserted - except for one mortal standing nearby - the older black-market guy. He watched me closely as I jogged by, unmoving, silent. It seemed that maybe Tuesday was some kind of off-day for the usual group.
My heartbeat increased rapidly as I ran past, images flooding my mind of a former good afternoon in there. I would not give in to these itch, I told myself. I felt my step retardation, then walking, finally coming to a stopover a half-block away. I looked back and saw the old man staring at me. He simply turned and walked inside. Head down, hating my failing, I followed. He was standing in the disabled stall's doorway, watching me. I couldn't take on his eyes as I walked to the inwardness stall. Before I could even pretend to crouch on the crapper and pee, he reached in, grasped my wrist and pulled me with him into the incapacitate carrel. It was much a bigger space than the other ones ; with a faeces and a sink.

He turned me, pushing down on my shoulders until I sat on the commode. Unzipping his fly, he just stood there until I finally got the essence of what he wanted and reached inside. Grasping his stiffening member, I flopped it out, gasping again at its cinch. I didn't have to be told what to do. I opened my mouth and went to act on that mythological piece of heart, kissing, lacing, and sucking as he grunted and groaned above me. OK, so I was a weak dirty sporting lady who sucked-off stranger in a public public convenience. I didn't care. That affectionate cock in my rima oris was all that mattered at the consequence. I was cupping his warm balls and felt them tightening as he got close to the end. I redoubled my campaign, but he forced my head off his leaking stopcock, standing away from my working mouth, breathing heavily for a moment. I fought against his hands, desperate to work out it once more.

Suddenly, he pulled me up, sliding my Garden State shorts down my legs until they fell disengage. I'm not very big, and despite being older, he was a big strong man. He simply lifted me and set me on his rampant hammer, letting sombreness force me downward, impaling me like a butterfly. It was raw fire. It was agony. It was tremendous. I cried, squealed and moaned. He showed no mercy, standing with hands on his hips, staring into my oculus, watching as my fear and painful sensation turned to take - then lust. We fucked like beast, oblivious to the outside world. Grunting and crying out our joy as he muttered,"T. H. White loose woman, bitch, fancy woman. .. ”, unrelenting in his assault on my body. I came twice. He also came, but stayed hard, continuing to love me like he owned me. Tightening my legs around his waist, I wrapped my blazonry around his neck as he lowered his head, swallowing my back talk. I willingly gave him my clapper, this add together alien, this blackness man, someone I'd never seen before, letting him know 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 bow forward, grasping the metal assist bar running along the wall. He slammed into me from the rear, harder, even more forceful. Every few minutes he'd suspension, prolonging his climax, then without any warning, 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 Lucille Ball as I whimpered in pain. As with Randy though, before retentive I was helping him, pushing back, rotating my rosehip in meter with his thrusts."That the way gripe, get on that cock,"he muttered.

I felt his passing splattering into my intestine like a fire hose, sticky, warm and comforting. Abruptly, he pulled completely out of my butt in one cause, 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 cubicle, tears streaming down my face - 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 fading daytime, half-hoping I'd see one of the Hispanic guys. I probably looked like a fuck hooker. I certainly felt like one. I vowed never to do that again. Never.

Randy came home two daytime later and immediately sensed something was amiss. 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 mute inquiry in his oculus, but didn't tell him compensate then.

After a wild turn of uninhibited sex I finally broke down, cried a little and told him what had happened in the parkland. Although he pretended otherwise, I sensed his initial anger not sincere. As he pressed me for contingent and I related them, I saw he was growing more shake by my story, getting hard as a railroad stiletto heel. I reached out and grasped his member, squeezing as I told him about backing up to take in the Negroid man's thick cock as I sucked another one. His external respiration grew shallower, his stopcock jump as I went into the contingent of how it felt, how lots I had wanted it, and how soiled and degraded I'd felt afterward. He was actually enjoying what I'd done. I could tell.
"This excites you, doesn't it ?"I said, a little miffed at his chemical reaction. He just stared down at me, kind of desperately, with a strive look that almost made me smile.

As I related my most Holocene experience in the public toilet facility, squeezing the alkali 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 matter up my butt, Randy shot a declamatory white gob at to the lowest degree a foot in the air as I scrambled to get my sass over the head, to view 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 face."I do. More than anything in the Earth. If I love you, why wouldn't I want you to be happy ? Enjoy your pleasure ? That's what love means to me."

"Aren't you envious ?"

"Sure. But that's persona of it - what makes it so delicious. Our life together will be so different than anything you've ever known. It'll be untamed, exciting. .. and irregular. New things all the time. I promise, it'll never get old."

I climbed on top of him and rode him like a stallion for a foresightful fourth dimension.

Since then as we walk past the 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 swagger 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 need to make him read I will never do that that again. It was out of this world nasty sex, but I did n't like the way I felt afterward.

The next day, Stu called my jail cell phone. He begged me to come back. He was crying. My day was totally icky after that .