awakening 4


I didn't think I'd continue with my narrative, but a few things have happened lately that made me reconsider. One, Cleo ( the woman who helps me write this ) got so many responses asking what has happened since the first stories, that she persuaded me to bear on. Secondly, my uttermost behavioral and personality variety 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 sufficiency dick. See how I talk now ? Previously, I didn't use words like pecker, piece of ass, etc. Now, I think about it nearly of the time. Randy is the one mostly responsible for this drastic variety in me. Whether I love him or not, I don't know, but I just can't seem to get enough of his howling cock.

One of the inquiry 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 years. I just left a note saying I'd met someone, and that Stu shouldn't try to find me. I didn't even have the guts to do it face-to-face. So vociferation me names. I deserve it. My family is so roiled they won't lecture to me, and all my old ally think I'm testicle, leaving a good-looking guy like Stu for a big sloppy cook like Randy. Maybe I am crazy, but sex with Stu was like eating a dirt sandwich, and him being the but man I'd ever slept with, I never even knew what I was missing. Randy came along with that Pakistani debris hooey he put in my beverage one evening before he commenced fucking me like an brute all night. After I'd had a penchant of it though, I'd gone back for more. ( Awakenings 1-3 ). I was never the same after that. I speak of what happened in my in the first place stories.

Randy and I fuck two, three times a day - everyday ! I'll walk into the way totally unaware, and suddenly I'm jerked around, shoved facedown over the back of a lounge or chairperson, 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 take the air up to me while I'm reading or watching TV, pull his pecker out, wrap his hands in my hair and shove it down my throat so far I can feel pubic hair against my sass. 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 early on age, he'd tosser a dozen time 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 error though.

Randy's day off is Thursday, so we usually wait to use that"detritus"clobber until Midweek night. 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 orgasm, 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 to the lowest degree a duo times a night. When there are conferences in Town Randy has to bring late, getting up before cockcrow several twenty-four hour period in a row. During those days, we abstain from strict sex. Being accustomed to regular sex almost daily, by the second gear or third day without it I'm climbing the walls. I practically attack him when he comes home on that last day. A couple week ago, he had to return to capital of the United States, D.C. ( the Sami plaza we just left ) for a week-long cooking stratum. That's when I did it. Fucked individual 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 birth cheated with somebody while he was gone, and maybe felt a little guilty because of it. Anyway, all is exquisitely now. By the way, he reads my stories here ! He loves ‘ em !

There's a parking lot 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 evening and I noticed a 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 other side of the lake, nearer to the primary route. He said these men were just a gang of perverts. He went on to explain about glory-holes and all that, which I found really uncanny - but sort of exciting, too. He admitted that he'd frequently gone to glory mess when he was new, but quit visiting them because he'd been scared of getting a disease. The next day, I researched gloriole cakehole on the computer - and boy was I stunned ! The first thing I saw was a pretty blond with a black member about the size of Randy's, stuck down her pharynx. She looked as if she were loving it. I'd never seen a black phallus before. There were piles of them on that web site, others too. I got so excited I jumped Randy's bones as soon as he walked in that eventide !

fountainhead, about the third or quaternary day he was gone to that cooking class in D.C., I was already climbing the walls 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 afternoons. That didn't assistance much either. I was up to three miles on my steady jog around the lake when I had the urge to pee, really badly. The only people in sight were two Hispanic guys shooting hoops at the basketball court, and one one-time black man sitting on a park work bench, a ways down the pulley-block. I quickly ducked into the public convenience area, but was confronted by a sign on the ladies room door saying it was closed for haunt. Desperate, I looked around carefully and then hurried inside the men's toilet. There were several urinals and three stalls. The first stall also had an out of order sign on the door and the last one was for disabled person. I used the one in the essence. There were holes in each wall of the nail down stall ; pictures of member, pussies, tits, stuff like that drawn all over the walls. I sat down and peed like a outflow for a minute or two, effigy flooding my already horny mind about all the things that had happened there. The place even smelled like sex. As I reached for some tissue to clean up, I heard footsteps at the nominal head threshold. I froze, lifting my feet so they couldn't be seen from outside.

Someone came in and entered the disable stall. heedful not to be seen through the hole, I leaned forward and peeked through it. It was the older bootleg man I'd before seen sitting on the Park bench. He stood there for a import before he began peeing. His cock was really big. Every bit as large as Randy's, but also different. sure as shooting it was black, but Randy is circumcised and this guy wasn't. It was the first untrimmed cock I'd ever seen, even on the computer. He kept pulling the foreskin back to break its treetop, and then easing it back over the tip as he pissed. It looked like the large black snake I'd once see as a kid. I suddenly realized my mouth was filled with cotton plant and I was constantly licking my lips. I'd never seen a man pee before. He finally finished, shook that substantive black thing a few prison term - and then began to slowly stroke it. He turned to present me, his cock steadily growing harder as he pulled his foreskin back and forth over the huge spongy pate. I felt that eye in its tip was staring heterosexual person at me. Swallowing unvoiced, attempting to breathe through my half-open oral fissure, 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 subdued capitulum - holding it there. Transfixed, I stared at the thick cock jolt 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 Word of God of warning. There were awful diseases out there, some that could kill you. Besides, that nasty matter might be filthy. .. maybe smell bad, too. I leaned closer to the opening. So did he. There was a clear pearl of ambrosia on its tip, silver, glistening, making my mouth water even more. I was so close to the hole that he must've seen my back talk, for he shoved that big deep brown head all the way through the curtain raising. Without even thinking about it I stuck out my tongue and - licked that bead away - lovingly closing my rima oris entirely over its head - swooning with pleasure. How does one explain the immense enjoyment of having a warm shaft inside one's mouth ? It's electrifying, comforting, and extremely exciting, all at the same time. I was in heaven.

The stall was so narrow I could comfortably sit on the can stool to accommodate him. I nibbled gently at the easy foreskin, enjoying that new experience. Then, I slid my wet lips softly around-and-around on the head before licking down its integral length, then back up to the tip again. Reaching through the scuttle, I found his large testicle and eased them through the hole. With his thick putz already in the space, the large black release barely fit through the opening. Imagining them to be of a rich chocolate feel, I gently sucked each nut into my mouth, savoring his grunt of joy. I licked back up the large vein on the bottom of the meaty harmonium, and then forced my mouth down over the thick head word, taking as much of it as I could stand. throttling, I momentarily backed off to catch my breathing space, and then immediately forced my head back down on it. He just let me go, not moving a brawniness, grunting and sighing every once in a while when it felt really good. I could sense his thick veins and ridge 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 tortured throat, feeling curly hair against my case. I loved it. I began sucking in earnest, soaking up the small audio of pleasure he was making on the other side of the rampart. This was where I belonged. If allowed, I could do it all day. I cupped his testis in one minor hired hand, gripping the base of his stopcock with the other - in add control of the state of affairs. I felt every ridgepole on his amazing cock, tasting his cute pre-cum, feeling his bollock tighten as he neared departure. Yes, yes, let me receive it all, my brain screamed. This total stranger was going to ditch his ballock into my stomach - and I wanted it. He came with a cheap grunt - a long steady flow, warmly, salty, hitting the ceiling of my mouth, coating my glossa, sliding down the working muscleman of my throat to syndicate in my soft belly. I was trembling so badly I nearly fell off the toilet BM, still holding onto his cock, licking, sucking and making love to it until he finally forced it from my oral cavity.

As I struggled to get my breathing under mastery, I sensed slight social movement behind me. Another cock protruded from the mess of the out-of-order booth. It was brownish, little and thicker, looking hard as teakwood. I thought it was probably one of the Hispanic American bozo I'd seen playing basketball. I slid around on the BM and took it into my oral cavity, hearing a groan on the former side of the fragile wall. I wanted more. I hadn't had nearly enough. Precum immediately filled my oral cavity and I knew this one wouldn't lowest long. Something tapped the wall behind me and I looked. The black guy had his shaft through the pickle again. I didn't hesitate. Pulling my jogging shorts down to my knees, I backed up to it, pulled my vagina brim apart and slither them around the bloated head. Placing my work force against the wall in social movement of me, I pushed back against what felt like a fence post attempting to go in me. It hurt. Stretching, combustion, forcing my vagina rampart apart, assaulting my to the highest degree attendant part. The bloated heading finally gained entry and the burning got even worse as I forced myself backward, helping him violate me. The cock in my sass suddenly exploded - gooey, rich, intoxicating. I swooned with delight. near of that Black person fencepost was finally inside me and I began to ride it as more juice lubricated my kitty paries, helping him get even abstruse. Another cock replaced the number one in the hole near my aspect, a twin to the first one. I swallowed it.

I was fucking without cerebration, unconsciously floating, allowing both men to lbf. into my willing organic structure. Holding my rima oris undefendable wide, I let that cock gag me, steal my breath, threatening to translate me unconscious. I didn't precaution. It all added to the sheer pleasance I was feeling. Bracing my hands against one wall, I pressed my ass flat against the hole in the former wall, letting the black man slam into me without mercy, making my knee joint buckle as I quaked and trembled to each violent knife thrust. With no warning, I suddenly blew apart with my climax, over and over, out of my head 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 skunk again, I was kneeling on the sticky bath flooring, covered with sweat, hair hanging in my eyes, feeling completely used-up. No one else was around
.
A penciled note lay near my impart human knee. Tuesdays and Th, is all it said.

I don't remember how I made it base, collapsing on my bed fully clothed, sleeping for hours. I awoke feeling ravaged, dirty - and suddenly very pit. 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 hebdomad due to a noted chef visiting the shoal from Europe. Slammed by the newsworthiness and growing hornier daily, my resolve quickly weakened. I'd lie in bed at Nox after talking to Randy on the phone, fanaticizing about that wild good afternoon in the men's public toilet. I'd been assaulted for over an 60 minutes by three complete strangers, and finally thrown out like a used-up old whore. In substance, I'd been royally fucked and totally satisfied for the first clock time since Randy left for DC 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 place every day and looked over at the group of men standing outside, convincing myself all my fright were unfounded. I never saw the dark guy with them. After a lonely weekend and a wine-soaked Monday, I jogged past the place again on Tuesday, to obtain it desert - except for one person standing nearby - the older black guy. He watched me closely as I jogged by, unmoving, silent. It seemed that maybe Tues was some kind of off-day for the usual group.
My heartbeat increased rapidly as I ran past, images flooding my mind of a previous afternoon in there. I would not give in to these impulse, I told myself. I felt my pace deceleration, then walking, finally coming to a diaphragm a half-block away. I looked back and saw the old man staring at me. He simply turned and walked inside. nous down, hating my failing, I followed. He was standing in the incapacitate stall's doorway, watching me. I couldn't encounter his eyes as I walked to the center cubicle. Before I could even sham to squat on the stool and pee, he reached in, grasped my wrist and pulled me with him into the disabled stall. It was much a bigger space than the early ones ; with a stool and a sink.

He turned me, pushing down on my shoulder until I sat on the stool. Unzipping his fly, he just stood there until I finally got the heart of what he wanted and reached inside. Grasping his stiffening member, 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 put to work on that mythologic piece of meat, petting, whacking, and sucking as he grunted and groaned above me. OK, so I was a fallible dirty cyprian who sucked-off strangers in a public public convenience. I didn't aid. That strong tool in my sassing was all that mattered at the bit. I was cupping his warm chunk and felt them tightening as he got close to the end. I redoubled my exertion, but he forced my head off his leaking hammer, standing away from my working backtalk, breathing heavily for a second. I fought against his hands, desperate to thrash it once more.

Suddenly, he pulled me up, sliding my jersey shortstop down my branch until they fell free. I'm not very big, and despite being older, he was a big impregnable man. He simply lifted me and set me on his rampant cock, letting gravitational attraction pull me downwardly, impaling me like a butterfly. It was raw fire. It was agony. It was terrific. I cried, squealed and moaned. He showed no mercy, standing with men on his rose hip, staring into my eyes, watching as my fear and hurting turned to need - then lust. We fucked like brute, oblivious to the outside world. Grunting and crying out our pleasure as he muttered,"White hussy, slit, bawd. .. ”, unrelenting in his violation on my organic structure. I came twice. He also came, but stayed hard, continuing to have it away me like he owned me. Tightening my legs around his waist, I wrapped my arms around his neck as he lowered his psyche, swallowing my mouth. I willingly gave him my tongue, this total stranger, this blackamoor man, soul 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 pecker and turning me around. I bent forward, grasping the metal attend bar running along the wall. He slammed into me from the rear, harder, even more forceful. Every few second he'd pause, prolonging his climax, then without any monition, he shoved the spongy pass against my anus and the fire started once more.

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

"Shut up,"was all he said, burying himself to the balls as I whimpered in pain. As with Randy though, before long I was helping him, pushing back, rotating my hips in cadence with his poking."That the way gripe, get on that rooster,"he muttered.

I felt his freeing splattering into my bowels like a ardor hose, sticky, tender and comforting. Abruptly, he pulled completely out of my seat in one movement, as I whimpered in protest."Please,"I whispered."I haven't. .."
"Too bad,"he said, turning to the sink to rinse himself. Just like that he was gone, leaving me huddled in that dirty stall, tears streaming down my look - 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 course in the fading daytime, half-hoping I'd see one of the Spanish American 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 wrongfulness. 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 motion in his eyes, but didn't tell him right then.

After a wild round of uninhibited sex I finally broke down, cried a little and told him what had happened in the parking area. Although he pretended otherwise, I sensed his initial angriness not sincere. As he pressed me for particular and I related them, I saw he was growing more excited by my narrative, getting hard as a railroad line spike. I reached out and grasped his member, squeezing as I told him about backing up to receive the contraband man's thick cock as I sucked another one. His external respiration grew shallower, his cock jumping as I went into the detail of how it felt, how much 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 reaction. He just stared down at me, kind of desperately, with a strained aspect that almost made me grinning.

As I related my most recent experience in the public public convenience, squeezing the base 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 fanny, Randy shot a large white gob at least a foot in the air as I scrambled to get my mouth over the head, to catch the relaxation. 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 case."I do. More than anything in the world. If I love you, why wouldn't I want you to be happy ? bask your pleasure ? That's what screw means to me."

"Aren't you jealous ?"

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

I climbed on top of him and rode him like a entire for a recollective time.

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

I know he wants me to do it agin so he can be division of it, but I 'll need to give him empathise 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 cellular telephone phone. He begged me to come back. He was crying. My day was totally shitty after that .