Awakenings 4


I didn't think I'd continue with my story, but a few things have happened lately that made me reconsider. One, Cleo ( the adult female who helps me spell this ) got so many responses asking what has happened since the first report, that she persuaded me to continue. Secondly, my extreme behavioral and personality changes are something I'm still trying to understand. I've gone from a meek, naïve short 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 plenty pecker. See how I talk now ? Previously, I didn't use words like turncock, piece of ass, 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 marvelous cock.

One of the inquiry readers asks Cleo has been, did I leave my hubby ? Yes, I did. I've been with Randy for two month now, following him to NY after he enticed me into leaving my husband of six class. I just left a note saying I'd met someone, and that Stu shouldn't try to happen me. I didn't even have the catgut to do it face-to-face. So anticipate me figure. I deserve it. My family is so pissed they won't talk to me, and all my old friends think I'm testis, leaving a well-favoured guy like Stu for a big sloppy cook like Randy. Maybe I am screwball, but sex with Stu was like eating a poop sandwich, and him being the solitary man I'd ever slept with, I never even knew what I was missing. Randy came along with that Pakistani Dust hooey he put in my drink one evening before he commenced fucking me like an animal all nighttime. After I'd had a taste 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 earlier 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 back of a cast or hot seat, and his big cock is slamming into me before I'm even ready. It makes little difference to Randy which golf 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 cock out, twine his script in my haircloth and shove it down my throat so far I can finger pubic hair against my back talk. I revel in his brutality, the anxiety of possible suffocation, the way he shudders when he climaxes, and most of all, its taste sensation. 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 baker's dozen. He said that even at an too soon age, he'd jerk-off a dozen prison term a day. He admitted he still does sometimes. Anyway, my libido is totally in ascendance of me these Clarence Day 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"debris"stuff until Wednesday Nox. That way we'll have a day to find 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 hour. The rest of the workweek, we fuck without using Randy's dust. Even at that, we're still doing it at least a twosome times a nighttime. When there are conference in townspeople Randy has to work late, getting up before dawn respective days in a row. During those sidereal day, we abstain from rigorous sex. Being accustomed to regular sex almost daily, by the second base or one-third day without it I'm climbing the bulwark. I practically attack him when he comes dwelling on that last day. A pair off weeks ago, he had to reelect to Washington, D.C. ( the Saame stead we just left ) for a week-long preparation class. That's when I did it. Fucked person else, I mean. He knows about it now and still loves me, so I can indite about it. I was scared to expiry for a while, though. I think he may also have cheated with soul while he was gone, and maybe felt a trivial shamefaced because of it. Anyway, all is fine now. By the way, he reads my level 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 full treatment. 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 meat of the lake, nearer to the primary route. He said these men were just a bunch of deviant. He went on to explain about glory-holes and all that, which I found really Wyrd - but kind of exciting, too. He admitted that he'd frequently gone to glory hole when he was younger, but quit visiting them because he'd been scared of getting a disease. The future day, I researched glory hollow on the computer - and boy was I stunned ! The commencement thing I saw was a pretty blond with a black phallus about the size of Randy's, stuck down her throat. She looked as if she were loving it. I'd never seen a black phallus before. There were dozen of them on that website, others too. I got so charge I jumped Randy's bone as soon as he walked in that evening !

Well, about the third or fourth day he was gone to that cooking class 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 palliate my foiling, so I jogged mornings and afternoons. That didn't supporter much either. I was up to three mi on my fixture jog around the lake when I had the impulse to pee, really badly. The lone hoi polloi in view were two Hispanic guys shooting basketball game at the basketball court, and one older dim man sitting on a park bench, a ways down the occlusion. I quickly ducked into the toilet facility area, but was confronted by a preindication on the ladies room door saying it was closed for resort. Desperate, I looked around carefully and then hurried inside the men's toilet. There were various urinals and three stall. The first stall also had an out of order house on the room access and the finally one was for invalid mortal. I used the one in the nub. There were holes in each wall of the narrow carrel ; pictures of penises, snatch, mammilla, stuff like that drawn all over the bulwark. I sat down and peed like a outpouring for a hour or two, double flooding my already horny mind about all the matter that had happened there. The lieu even smelled like sex. As I reached for some tissue paper to clean house up, I heard footsteps at the front doorway. I froze, lifting my feet so they couldn't be seen from outside.

Someone came in and entered the disabled kiosk. deliberate not to be seen through the golf hole, I leaned forward and peeked through it. It was the senior inkiness man I'd earlier seen sitting on the park Bench. He stood there for a moment before he began peeing. His peter was really big. Every bit as large as Randy's, but also unlike. sure enough it was black, but Randy is circumcised and this guy wasn't. It was the 1st unmown cock I'd ever seen, even on the computer. He kept pulling the foreskin back to uncover its crown, and then easing it back over the tip as he pissed. It looked like the bombastic black Hydra I'd once see as a kid. I suddenly realized my mouth was filled with cotton wool and I was constantly licking my lips. I'd never seen a man pee before. He finally finished, shook that meaty black-market matter a few times - and then began to slowly stroke it. He turned to face up me, his cock steadily growing harder as he pulled his prepuce back and Forth over the huge spongy crown. I felt that eye in its tip was staring straightaway at me. Swallowing hard, attempting to suspire through my half-open rima oris, 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 prepuce all the way back to expose the soft head - holding it there. Transfixed, I stared at the thick cock jerking and throbbing only a few column inch from my aspect. Suddenly, my sassing wasn't dry anymore. It was watering. I could not do this, I told myself, remembering Randy's Christian Bible of warning. There were tremendous diseases out there, some that could stamp out you. Besides, that nasty matter might be filthy. .. maybe smell bad, too. I leaned closer to the opening. So did he. There was a make pearl of nectar on its tip, silver, glistening, making my mouth body of water even more. I was so close to the hollow that he must've seen my mouth, for he shoved that big chocolate point all the way through the gap. 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 delight. How does one explain the vast enjoyment of having a fond cock inside one's oral fissure ? It's electrifying, comforting, and extremely exciting, all at the Saami time. I was in heaven.

The stall was so narrow I could comfortably sit on the toilet stool to accommodate him. I nibbled gently at the loose prepuce, enjoying that new experience. Then, I slid my wet lips softly around-and-around on the chief before licking down its entire length, then back up to the tip again. Reaching through the curtain raising, I found his large balls and eased them through the hole. With his thick cock already in the blank, the large inglorious pouch barely fit through the curtain raising. Imagining them to be of a rich chocolate flavor, I gently sucked each nut into my oral fissure, savoring his grunt of pleasure. I licked back up the big vein on the bottom of the meaty organ, and then forced my rima oris down over the thick head, taking as a lot of it as I could bear. throttling, I momentarily backed off to capture my breath, and then immediately forced my head back down on it. He just let me work, not moving a muscular tissue, grunting and sighing every once in a piece when it felt really good. I could feel his thick veins and ridge as my lips moved over them, the amazing crown pushing into my oesophagus, forcing my throat assailable wider and wider, unrelenting as it went recondite. Eventually, I got to the highest degree of it into my tortured throat, feeling curly hair against my face. I loved it. I began sucking in earnest, soaking up the pocket-size sounds of delight he was making on the other English of the wall. This was where I belonged. If allowed, I could do it all day. I cupped his clump in one modest handwriting, gripping the base of his cock with the early - in total control of the place. I felt every ridge on his awesome putz, tasting his precious pre-cum, feeling his Ball tighten as he neared tone ending. Yes, yes, let me have it all, my brain screamed. This total stranger was going to dump his balls into my stomach - and I wanted it. He came with a loudly grunt - a longsighted unfaltering stream, tender, salty, hitting the roof of my oral cavity, coating my clapper, sliding down the working muscular tissue of my throat to pond in my soft belly. I was trembling so badly I nearly fell off the toilet BM, still holding onto his peter, 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 slight drift behind me. Another rooster protruded from the kettle of fish of the out-of-order stall. It was brownish, shorter and thicker, looking hard as teakwood. I thought it was probably one of the Hispanic guys I'd seen playing basketball. I slid around on the feces and took it into my mouth, hearing a groan on the other side of meat of the melt off wall. I wanted more. I hadn't had nearly enough. Precum immediately filled my back talk and I knew this one wouldn't utmost long. Something tapped the wall behind me and I looked. The black guy had his cock through the hollow again. I didn't hesitate. Pulling my jogging short down to my genu, I backed up to it, pulled my vagina rim apart and slid them around the bloated head. Placing my script against the wall in front of me, I pushed back against what felt like a fence post attempting to accede me. It hurt. Stretching, combustion, forcing my vagina wall apart, assaulting my nigh sore function. The bloated point finally gained entry and the burning got even worse as I forced myself backward, helping him violate me. The cock in my sassing suddenly exploded - gooey, racy, intoxicating. I swooned with delight. Most of that lightlessness fencepost was finally inside me and I began to taunt it as more juice lubricated my twat rampart, helping him get even cryptic. Another tool replaced the first in the hole near my brass, a twin to the inaugural one. I swallowed it.

I was fucking without thought, unconsciously floating, allowing both men to pound into my willing consistency. Holding my mouth open all-embracing, I let that cock gag me, slip my breath, threatening to supply me unconscious. I didn't care. It all added to the absolute pleasure I was feeling. Bracing my hands against one wall, I pressed my ass flat tire against the pickle in the other rampart, letting the shameful man dig into me without mercy, making my knees buckle as I quaked and trembled to each violent thrust. With no monition, I suddenly blew apart with my orgasm, over and over, out of my head with the filthiness of it all, hot lava shooting into my vagina from behind, strangling on midst salty fluid running down my pharynx. Later, when I finally came to my senses again, I was kneeling on the pasty bathroom level, covered with sweat, hair's-breadth hanging in my eyes, feeling completely used-up. No one else was around
.
A penciled note lay near my left articulatio genus. Tuesdays and Thursday, is all it said.

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

Randy called two mean solar day later and told me his socio-economic class had been extended for a calendar week due to a noted chef visiting the school from European Economic Community. Slammed by the news and growing hornier daily, my resolve quickly weakened. I'd lie in bed at night after talking to Randy on the phone, fanaticizing about that wild good afternoon in the men's convenience. I'd been assaulted for over an 60 minutes by three pure unknown, and finally thrown out like a used-up old whore. In burden, I'd been royally fucked and totally satisfied for the first time since Randy left for D.C. Maybe my fear 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 radical of men standing outside, convincing myself all my fears were unfounded. I never saw the black guy with them. After a lonely weekend and a wine-soaked Monday, I jogged past the property again on Tues, to find it abandon - 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 psyche of a premature afternoon in there. I would not give in to these itch, I told myself. I felt my tread slowing, then walking, finally coming to a stop 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 carrel's doorway, watching me. I couldn't meet his eyes as I walked to the center stall. Before I could even pretend to crouch on the stool and pee, he reached in, grasped my radiocarpal joint and pulled me with him into the disabled stall. It was much a self-aggrandising infinite than the other I ; 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 essence 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 sass and went to sour on that mythological firearm of meat, kissing, licking, and sucking as he grunted and groaned above me. OK, so I was a weak dirty whore who sucked-off alien in a public toilet facility. I didn't precaution. That warm putz in my mouth was all that mattered at the moment. I was cupping his warm balls and felt them tightening as he got close to the end. I redoubled my effort, but he forced my headspring off his leaking tool, standing away from my working oral fissure, breathing heavily for a moment. I fought against his helping hand, despairing to solve it once more.

Suddenly, he pulled me up, sliding my NJ shorts down my legs until they fell free. I'm not very big, and despite being older, he was a big unassailable man. He simply lifted me and set me on his rearing cock, letting gravity pull out me downwardly, impaling me like a butterfly. It was raw flaming. It was agony. It was wonderful. I cried, squealed and moaned. He showed no mercy, standing with manpower on his hips, staring into my eyes, watching as my fear and pain turned to need - then lust. We fucked like creature, forgetful to the outside universe. Grunting and crying out our joy as he muttered,"White slovenly woman, puss, whore. .. ”, unrelenting in his assault on my body. I came twice. He also came, but stayed hard, continuing to fuck me like he owned me. Tightening my stage around his waist, I wrapped my arms around his cervix as he lowered his head, swallowing my mouth. I willingly gave him my tongue, this total unknown, this black 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 15 minutes, finally pulling me off his dick and turning me around. I bent forward, grasping the metal assist bar running along the rampart. He slammed into me from the rear, harder, even more forceful. Every few second he'd pause, prolonging his climax, then without any warning, he shoved the spongy head against my anus and the firing started once more.

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

"Shut up,"was all he said, burying himself to the lump as I whimpered in pain. As with Randy though, before long I was helping him, pushing back, rotating my pelvic girdle in cadence with his thrusts."That the way bitch, get on that cock,"he muttered.

I felt his loss splattering into my bowels like a fire hosepipe, sticky, fond and comforting. Abruptly, he pulled completely out of my butt in one movement, as I whimpered in dissent."Please,"I whispered."I haven't. .."
"Too bad,"he said, turning to the sump to wash off himself. Just like that he was gone, leaving me huddled in that dirty booth, tears streaming down my face - and not getting that final tone ending.

I don't know why no one came in that afternoon. I didn't even see anyone as I staggered out the threshold and walked up the path in the fading day, half-hoping I'd see one of the Spanish American cat. I probably looked like a make love 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 legal injury. 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 silent motion in his centre, but didn't tell him decently then.

After a wild tear of uninhibited sex I finally broke down, cried a piffling 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 stiletto heel. I reached out and grasped his member, squeezing as I told him about backing up to receive the black man's thickly cock as I sucked another one. His ventilation grew shallower, his pecker jumping as I went into the details of how it felt, how much I had wanted it, and how dirty 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 lilliputian miffed at his response. He just stared down at me, kind of desperately, with a stress look that almost made me grin.

As I related my most Holocene epoch experience in the world restroom, squeezing the al-Qa'ida 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 tush, Randy shot a large white gob at to the lowest degree a human foot in the air as I scrambled to get my backtalk over the question, to entrance the rest. He came a lot, so he'd really been excited.

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

He smiled, touching my face."I do. more than than anything in the world. If I love you, why wouldn't I want you to be well-chosen ? savor your pleasure ? That's what love means to me."

"Aren't you overjealous ?"

"Sure. But that's part of it - what makes it so delicious. Our sprightliness together will be so different than anything you've ever known. It'll be wild, 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 stallion for a retentive time.

Since then as we walk past the park 's public toilet, 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 understand 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 cell phone. He begged me to occur back. He was crying. My day was totally icky after that .