awakening 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 cleaning woman who helps me indite this ) got so many reply asking what has happened since the 1st story, that she persuaded me to continue. Secondly, my utmost behavioural and personality changes 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 somebody 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 stopcock, 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 rattling cock.

One of the doubtfulness reader asks Cleo has been, did I leave my hubby ? 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 eld. I just left a note saying I'd met somebody, and that Stu shouldn't try to find me. I didn't even have the backbone to do it face-to-face. So hollo me names. I deserve it. My family is so pissed they won't talk to me, and all my old Quaker think I'm egg, leaving a good-looking guy like Stu for a big muddy Cook like Randy. Maybe I am screwball, but sex with Stu was like eating a shite sandwich, and him being the alone 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 even before he commenced fucking me like an animal all Night. 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 earliest stories.

Randy and I fuck two, three times a day - everyday ! I'll pass into the elbow room totally incognizant, and suddenly I'm jerked around, shoved facedown over the rear of a put or chair, and his big turncock is slamming into me before I'm even set. 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 reading or watching TV, extract his cock out, wrap his hands in my hair and shove it down my pharynx so far I can find pubic haircloth against my lips. I revel in his brutality, the anxiety of possible suffocation, the way he shudders when he climaxes, and most of all, its discernment. I love it all. I don't know if Randy is a sex junky 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 dozen times a day. He admitted he still does sometimes. Anyway, my libido is totally in dominance of me these Clarence Day and yes, I've already cheated on Randy. It wasn't my demerit though.

Randy's day off is Thursday, so we usually wait to use that"dust"clobber until Wednesday night. That way we'll have a day to reclaim before he returns to mold on Friday. Believe me, we need it too. After six or eight climax, we are sore, fatigued, and totally exhausted for at least 24 hours. The quietus of the week, we fuck without using Randy's dust. Even at that, we're still doing it at to the lowest degree a yoke times a night. When there are conferences in town Randy has to work late, getting up before break of the day several days in a row. During those 24-hour interval, we abstain from rigorous sex. Being accustomed to regular sex almost day-by-day, by the irregular or 3rd day without it I'm climbing the wall. I practically attack him when he comes home on that last day. A dyad calendar week ago, he had to turn back to Booker Taliaferro Washington, D.C. ( the same place 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 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 little guilty because of it. Anyway, all is fine now. By the way, he reads my stories here ! He loves ‘ em !

There's a Mungo Park with a lake, near our condo. Randy and I walk there sometimes and I jog around the lake during the days Randy industrial plant. We were walking and feeding the ducks one evening and I noticed a group of men near one of the john. I commented about it and Randy said if I needed to use the toilet, to use one on the other face of the lake, nearer to the principal 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 uncanny - but kind of exciting, too. He admitted that he'd frequently gone to gloriole holes when he was untested, but quit visiting them because he'd been scared of getting a disease. The succeeding day, I researched aura holes on the computer - and boy was I stunned ! The first affair 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 inkiness penis before. There were dozens of them on that land site, others too. I got so excited I jumped Randy's bones as soon as he walked in that evening !

Well, about the thirdly or fourth day he was gone to that cooking division in D.C., I was already climbing the walls I wanted it so bad. The vibrator he bought for us didn't do a affair to relieve my foiling, so I jogged mornings and afternoon. That didn't supporter much either. I was up to three miles on my regular jog around the lake when I had the urge to pee, really badly. The sole the great unwashed in sight were two Hispanic Guy shooting hoops at the basketball court, and one senior black man sitting on a parking area bench, a direction down the block. I quickly ducked into the public toilet orbit, but was confronted by a polarity on the madam 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 horse barn. The first stand also had an out of edict sign on the door and the last one was for disabled someone. I used the one in the centre of attention. There were hollow in each paries of the narrow cubicle ; word-painting of member, kitty-cat, tit, stuff like that drawn all over the bulwark. I sat down and peed like a fountain for a minute or two, images flooding my already horny mind about all the things that had happened there. The stead even smelled like sex. As I reached for some tissue paper to clean up, I heard footsteps at the front doorway. I froze, lifting my base so they couldn't be seen from outside.

Someone came in and entered the disabled kiosk. Careful not to be seen through the hole, I leaned forward and peeked through it. It was the older melanise man I'd earlier seen sitting on the park bench. He stood there for a second before he began peeing. His cock was really big. Every bit as magnanimous as Randy's, but also different. for certain it was black, but Randy is circumcised and this guy wasn't. It was the for the first time full-length stopcock I'd ever seen, even on the computer. He kept pulling the foreskin back to peril 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 oral fissure was filled with cotton and I was constantly licking my rim. I'd never seen a man pee before. He finally finished, shook that meaty fateful thing a few times - and then began to slowly stroke it. He turned to face me, his pecker steadily growing harder as he pulled his foreskin back and Forth River over the huge spongy crown. I felt that eye in its tip was staring straight at me. Swallowing punishing, attempting to suspire through my half-open mouth, I was trembling all over.

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

He didn't say anything but he moved closer to the wall, pulling his foreskin all the way back to let out the soft head - holding it there. Transfixed, I stared at the thick turncock jerk and throbbing only a few column inch 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 abominable diseases out there, some that could pop you. Besides, that nasty thing might be nasty. .. maybe smell bad, too. I leaned closer to the opening. So did he. There was a unclutter dip of nectar on its tip, silver, glistening, making my sassing water even more. I was so close to the maw that he must've seen my mouth, for he shoved that big burnt umber head all the way through the initiative. 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 excuse the immense use of having a warm shaft inside one's mouth ? It's electrifying, comforting, and extremely energize, all at the same sentence. 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 wanton 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 bombastic balls and eased them through the hole. With his wooden-headed hammer already in the place, the large black discharge barely fit through the opening night. Imagining them to be of a deep drinking chocolate relish, I gently sucked each nut into my mouth, savoring his oink of pleasure. I licked back up the magnanimous mineral vein on the bottom of the inning of the meaty electronic organ, and then forced my back talk down over the thick head, taking as very much of it as I could suffer. strangling, I momentarily backed off to catch my breathing space, and then immediately forced my head back down on it. He just let me work, not moving a brawn, grunting and sighing every once in a while when it felt really honest. I could feel his thick veins and ridges as my mouth moved over them, the awe-inspiring crown pushing into my gullet, forcing my throat surface wider and wider, unrelenting as it went deeper. Eventually, I got most of it into my torment throat, feeling curly hair's-breadth against my cheek. I loved it. I began sucking in earnest, soaking up the little phone of pleasance he was making on the other side of the wall. This was where I belonged. If allowed, I could do it all day. I cupped his balls in one small hand, gripping the al-Qaida of his turncock with the other - in tally control of the situation. I felt every rooftree on his awesome cock, tasting his treasured pre-cum, feeling his glob tighten as he neared departure. Yes, yes, let me induce it all, my encephalon screamed. This total stranger was going to dump his balls into my stomach - and I wanted it. He came with a loud grunt - a long steady stream, warm, salty, hitting the roof of my mouth, coating my tongue, sliding down the working muscularity of my throat to pool in my diffuse belly. I was trembling so badly I nearly fell off the toilet commode, still holding onto his stopcock, licking, sucking and making making love to it until he finally forced it from my mouth.

As I struggled to get my breathing under control, I sensed little apparent movement behind me. Another cock protruded from the gob 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 stool and took it into my mouth, hearing a groan on the former side of the thin bulwark. I wanted more. I hadn't had nearly enough. Precum immediately filled my mouth and I knew this one wouldn't last long. Something tapped the wall behind me and I looked. The blackness guy had his cock through the hole again. I didn't hesitate. Pulling my jogging shorts down to my human knee, I backed up to it, pulled my vagina lips apart and slew them around the bloated question. Placing my manpower against the wall in front of me, I pushed back against what felt like a fence post attempting to enter me. It hurt. Stretching, burning, forcing my vagina walls apart, assaulting my well-nigh tender role. The bloated head finally gained accounting entry and the combustion got even uncollectible as I forced myself backward, helping him violate me. The dick in my mouth suddenly exploded - gooey, ample, intoxicating. I swooned with pleasure. Most of that black fencepost was finally inside me and I began to mount it as more juices lubricated my pussy rampart, helping him get even inscrutable. Another rooster replaced the first in the gob near my nerve, a twin to the world-class one. I swallowed it.

I was fucking without thought, unconsciously floating, allowing both men to pound into my leave body. Holding my mouth out-of-doors wide, I let that cock gag me, steal my breather, threatening to supply me unconscious. I didn't caution. It all added to the absolute pleasure I was feeling. Bracing my hands against one wall, I pressed my ass apartment against the hole in the other wall, letting the mordant man sweep into me without mercy, making my knee joint buckle as I quaked and trembled to each violent thrust. With no warning, I suddenly blew apart with my climax, over and over, out of my school principal 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 sensory faculty again, I was kneeling on the sticky bathroom floor, covered with sweat, hair hanging in my eyes, feeling completely used-up. No one else was around
.
A pencilled note lay near my depart knee. Tues and Thursdays, 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, grime - and suddenly very fright. God, delight don't let me have got gotten something bad from those men, I pleaded. I'll never do that again. I promise. Please.

Randy called two solar day later and told me his class had been extended for a week due to a noted chef visiting the school from Europe. Slammed by the word and growing hornier daily, my dissolve quickly weakened. I'd lie in bed at night after talking to Randy on the phone, fanaticizing about that uncivilised afternoon in the men's toilet facility. I'd been assaulted for over an hour by three complete stranger, and finally thrown out like a used-up old cyprian. In perfume, I'd been royally fucked and totally meet for the showtime clock time since Randy left for D.C. Maybe my concern about catching something were unfounded after all. Why would all those hombre go there if they thought they'd get something bad ? I jogged past the space every day and looked over at the grouping of men standing outside, convincing myself all my fear were idle. I never saw the black guy with them. After a lonely weekend and a wine-soaked Mon, I jogged past the shoes again on Tuesday, to get hold it deserted - 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 former afternoon in there. I would not feed in to these urges, I told myself. I felt my pace slowing, then walking, finally coming to a check 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 weakness, I followed. He was standing in the disabled stall's doorway, watching me. I couldn't meet his eyes as I walked to the center stall. Before I could even pretend to squat on the stool and pee, he reached in, grasped my radiocarpal joint and pulled me with him into the handicapped stall. It was much a braggart infinite than the other ones ; with a stool and a sink.

He turned me, pushing down on my articulatio humeri until I sat on the crapper. 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 work on that fabulous firearm of heart, caressing, trouncing, and sucking as he grunted and groaned above me. OK, so I was a decrepit dirty whore who sucked-off strangers in a public restroom. I didn't aid. That warmly turncock in my back talk was all that mattered at the bit. I was cupping his warm clump and felt them tightening as he got close to the end. I redoubled my exploit, but he forced my head off his leaking rooster, standing away from my working sassing, breathing heavily for a moment. I fought against his hands, despairing to lick it once more.

Suddenly, he pulled me up, sliding my tee shirt shorts down my legs until they fell free. I'm not very big, and despite being older, he was a big solid man. He simply lifted me and set me on his rampant rooster, letting gravity pull up me downwardly, impaling me like a butterfly. It was raw fire. It was agony. It was wonderful. I cried, squealed and moaned. He showed no clemency, standing with men on his pelvic arch, staring into my oculus, watching as my fear and pain turned to need - then lust. We fucked like animals, oblivious to the exterior world. Grunting and crying out our pleasure as he muttered,"White slut, snatch, whore. .. ”, unrelenting in his assault on my physical structure. I came twice. He also came, but stayed hard, continuing to bang me like he owned me. Tightening my peg around his shank, I wrapped my blazon around his neck as he lowered his head, swallowing my mouth. I willingly gave him my tongue, this total stranger, this opprobrious 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 mo, finally pulling me off his hawkshaw and turning me around. I twist 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 pause, prolonging his climax, then without any warning, he shoved the squashy mind against my anus and the ardor started once more.

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

"Shut up,"was all he said, burying himself to the balls as I whimpered in hurting. As with Randy though, before prospicient I was helping him, pushing back, rotating my rose hip in cadence with his thrusts."That the way kick, get on that cock,"he muttered.

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

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 way of life in the attenuation daylight, half-hoping I'd see one of the Hispanic guys. I probably looked like a fucked Joseph 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 wrong. 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 doubtfulness in his eyes, but didn't tell him mightily then.

After a waste bout of uninhibited sex I finally broke down, cried a small and told him what had happened in the park. Although he pretended otherwise, I sensed his initial choler not sincere. As he pressed me for item and I related them, I saw he was growing more excited by my taradiddle, getting hard as a railway spike. I reached out and grasped his penis, squeezing as I told him about backing up to encounter the black man's slurred peter as I sucked another one. His breathing grew shallower, his prick jumping as I went into the details 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 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 feeling that almost made me grin.

As I related my most recent experience in the public restroom, 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 persona about shoving that affair up my target, Randy shot a heavy Patrick White gob at least a invertebrate foot in the air as I scrambled to get my mouth over the head, to catch the repose. He came a lot, so he'd really been excited.

Afterward, pouting a patch, 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 Earth. If I love you, why wouldn't I want you to be happy ? bask your delight ? That's what make out means to me."

"Aren't you jealous ?"

"Sure. But that's function of it - what makes it so delicious. Our life together will be so unlike than anything you've ever known. It'll be wild, 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 long meter.

Since then as we walk past the park 's restroom, when he sees a clump 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 make him realise 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 phone phone. He begged me to follow back. He was crying. My day was totally icky after that .