- Knowledge is power
- The Future Of Possible
- Hibs and Ross County fans on final
- Tip of the day: That man again
- Hibs and Ross County fans on final
- Spieth in danger of missing cut
Don’t tell me that “if” she wants you to cum in her mouth it means she doesn’t want you to cum on her tits. That’s just wrong. (My tastes are fairly vanilla.)
No, I don’t like to
Naked and shivering, she huddled on the filthy, urine-soaked concrete floor. She could hear the crowd chanting outside the room, feel the pressure of the glass.
There was no sound. She was alone. She wrapped her arms around herself and held her legs tight. She had to wait for the last customer. She’d already taken so many, she was beginning to feel like a whore.
She wondered if they were all the same, these anonymous men. Probably not. If they were all alike, they’d all be taking each other through glory holes, wouldn’t they? The men waiting outside would be lining up in the dark corridor, men who were anxious to have her mouth on their cocks, desperate for her to suck them.
She wondered what they looked like. Not like her father, or her brothers. She imagined they’d all be fat and ugly, hairy and sweating. But maybe some would be like the first two, the ones who’d bought her for a night. Some men might be good, they’d pay her well.
The door opened and she heard footsteps. She looked up and saw a man’s shoes in front of her. He stepped closer and she could smell him. The stink of him made her wince. She reached for the zipper on his jeans.
***
Buck raised the glass to his lips, sipping at the drink. He took a deep breath, then a slow sip, holding it for a second. Then he lowered it again.
“Do you think it’s wise to keep drinking?” She had noticed his drinking habits.
Buck took a deep breath and placed his hands behind his neck. “I know I shouldn’t,” he said. “It’s not good for my health.”
“I thought you had no health problems?”
He looked at her and she could see the pain in his eyes. “No problems that you know of,” he said. “There might be a few things that I haven’t told you about.” He finished his drink and reached for the bottle again, refilling the glass.
She waited for him to continue.
“My wife and I divorced about five years ago. We’d been together for nineteen years. We got divorced and I started seeing other women. My son was a little bit older than you when you met him, and he was living on his own by then. We never talked much after the divorce, he moved out and I didn’t see him for a couple of years. I called him a couple of times but he always found something to be busy with.
“When I was living with my second wife, I told her all about what I’d been doing, that I’d had two or three affairs. She said that was okay, she could handle it. We’d always talked about having another child but she couldn’t get pregnant, so we decided not to try any more.
She said it was fine, that it didn’t bother her. But about two years ago, she told me that she’d been seeing someone else. She said it had been going on for two years, but that they’d kept it a secret. She said that he was older than both of us, about sixty, and that he had money. She said that he’d made a lot of money in the computer industry, that he’d sold his company and retired young.”
He took another sip of his drink. “She told me that she’d met him through a business networking group, and they’d hit it off really well. He’d invited her to dinner, just the two of them, and they’d been going out for about three months. He had a house in the country and he took her there on weekends. She said that he had a lot of toys, that he took her to his bedroom and made love to her. She told him she wanted a baby and he agreed to try. ..
They started trying and he said that she’d be able to conceive.”
She watched him closely, noticing the tightness in his jaw.
“About six months after they started trying, she was late and she started to bleed. They took her to the hospital, but there was nothing wrong with her, just some abnormalities in her womb. She said they were going to take them out, but then they said that there was too much scarring from the miscarriage, so there wasn’t going to be any more chances for her to have a baby. She said she couldn’t stand it, and she’d never wanted to have a baby in the first place, so she divorced me.”
She watched him drink.
“She said that I didn’t care about her and that I only loved my son. She said she was glad we’d gotten a divorce. I asked her if she was happy and she said that she was, but she never wanted to talk to me again.”
“Do you have a son?” she asked.
He nodded and raised the glass again, looking at it for a second before draining the rest.
“I know it’s stupid, but I wanted to see him, just once, just to let him know that I still cared, that I loved him and that I wanted to be part of his life. So I found him, and I made an appointment to see him.” He paused for a long moment. “He didn’t want to see me,” he said. “He had no interest in talking to me. He said he’d been trying to avoid me for years.”
He poured more whisky into his glass and leaned back against the couch.
“It took a long time before I was able to accept that I’d lost him completely. I still dream about it sometimes. But I haven’t given up. I still try to contact him, every chance I get. It’s difficult because I never know if he’s going to answer my phone calls or my letters. I’ve been putting together a website so that he can contact me if he ever wants to, but I haven’t had any luck with that. He doesn’t like computers very much.” He paused again.
“And that’s the reason why I’ve been drinking so much,” he said, and drained the glass in one gulp.
She was still watching him.
“It’s been ten years now, but I’m still trying. It’s taken me five years to build up enough courage to tell you. I’ve been so ashamed of what I’d done to him, and to my other children, that I couldn’t tell anybody. I tried to tell you last week, but I couldn’t get the words out. I’m so sorry.”
She reached for the bottle, but he put his hand on her wrist, stopping her. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, then on the lips, holding her gently, kissing her lightly, and then holding her close to him.
She felt herself becoming aroused, the excitement building as he held her. She knew that he could feel it as he held her. He moved his mouth down and kissed her neck, then lower, kissing her breasts through the material of her shirt.
He let go of her and leaned back against the couch. She lifted the bottom of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head, exposing her breasts to him. They were small, but firm. His hand cupped one, the other hand moving down her body, running along the length of her torso, over her stomach and onto her inner thigh.
She turned to look at him. His eyes were glazed, and his breath was coming in gasps. He looked as if he might be about to say something, but then he moved towards her, kissing her on the lips, then moving down her neck and onto her breasts, taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. She reached down to touch him through his jeans, feeling the hardness, stroking it as he kissed her. She felt him tremble, and then he pushed her away.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he said, looking at her. She reached for his belt buckle, unbuckling it and pulling his zipper down, reaching inside his pants to touch him, feeling him pressing through his briefs.
She saw the look on his face, and she smiled, reaching up with both hands to pull her skirt up. She hooked her fingers under the elastic of her panties and pulled them down, letting them fall to the floor. He was still watching her, and she moved forward again, climbing onto his lap and feeling his hardness pressing against her, pressing down into her wetness, kissing him on the lips.
He reached up and touched her face with both hands, kissing her, their mouths open and tongues intertwined. His hand moved down over her body, over her back and onto her ass, squeezing it gently and then pressing her forward. She felt him lift her up, his hands pulling the waist of her skirt up to her hips, moving her forward to slide inside her.
She let out a gasp as he entered her, pulling up and then pushing down, sliding along the length of his shaft as it moved inside her. She moved faster, the excitement building as he held onto her hips. She felt him pulse inside her and then she reached her orgasm, leaning forward to kiss him as she trembled against him.
She could feel the pain in his eyes when she looked at him. He reached for the bottle and poured himself another drink, gulping it down quickly.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and reached for her again, kissing her on the mouth. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “You should never have seen me like this. You shouldn’t have come here.”
She watched him and she could see the tears forming in his eyes. He pulled away from her and stood, taking her hand and leading her through the living room into his bedroom. He closed the door behind them and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her down next to him. He lifted her leg and rested it across his lap, rubbing it with his hands. She watched him, waiting for him to speak, knowing that it would come, that there was no way she could avoid hearing it.
She was right.
“I want you,” he said, and turned to look at her, “but I know that you deserve better than this.” He paused. “I’m not a good man, and I’ve done things I’m not proud of. You’re too young for this.”
“I know,” she said.
He smiled and reached for her hand. “I’ve told you all these things about my life, about my son and my ex-wife. I’ve told you that I don’t want this. That I don’t want to be here with you. But I can’t get you out of my head.”
“I know,” she said, leaning in to kiss him. “It’s not that easy to say goodbye to somebody you love.”
