28 - Giving It All He’s Got! #2
The following day, after work, I dropped by the old watering hole and was lucky to find Mike on duty.
He asked me why I was there alone and I told him some BS.
I flirted a little, nothing special, thought his reaction was promising.
It took me a couple tequila shots before I could muster the courage to ask him the Big Question, and I was anticipating being banned from the place.
But, after the initial surprise, he simply laughed and asked if I was for real.
I’d already undone quite a few buttons, and as I leaned over the bar, making my voice extra husky (I hoped), I told him I was.
“Totally for real.”
He took a moment, then nodded.
“Okay.”
A little more basic research followed. I had to check out the goods before sealing the deal. Nothing too sordid, of course – no way was I going to fuck someone behind Tommy’s back. But I had to be sure Mike could deliver the goods. Turned out he could, with plenty to spare.
Fast forward to Saturday night and a meeting at a motel on the edge of the next town over.
I pulled into the parking lot and stopped the engine, and Tommy and I both sat looking at the unprepossessing row of doors.
All painted blue, all with really big room numbers on them, like it was a motel for the visually impaired.
As opposed, I thought, to the sexually confused.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” I asked, for the third and final time that night. The first time I asked, we were standing in the hallway, ready to set off. The second time was when we turned off the freeway.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Tommy said.
His voice sounded kind of strained, thin, like his throat very dry. Not surprising.
“Okay,” I said. “He’s in number nine.”
We got out and went up to the door, which opened before I could knock.
Mike had been looking out for us. We stepped inside, and suddenly it hit me.
The cheesy décor, the double bed, the anonymous landscape art on the walls, the smell of pine-scented disinfectant from the bathroom.
This was happening, this was as real as it gets.
“Right,” said Mike. “Let’s do this.”
He was wearing a bathrobe, and simply shucked it off without ceremony, like we all knew what he looked like naked anyway.
That was the kind of confidence that turned me on.
What also turned me on was seeing his tall, damn near perfect bod, complete with superb abs and pecs, and the classical proportions of a heroic statue.
And there was his dick, of course, nice and meaty, currently hanging between his golden-brown thighs.
Tommy, fully erect, was smaller than flaccid Mike, and that made me tingle where it counted.
“Ready for action, huh?” I smiled, and took off my own coat.
Underneath I had put on the sluttiest lingerie I had ever bought, cheap stuff that Mike could rip off if he liked.
Preferably with his pearly whites. I put a hand on my hip, crooked a leg in a pose I hoped was sexy.
I felt self-conscious, disrobing in front of a younger man.
But the stud looked impressed, running his gaze up and down my body.
His eyes lingered on my tits, and I put my hands under them, pushed them up a little further than the cheap bra had managed.
“Like what you see?” I asked.
“Uh-huh,” he said. “I do like it.”
Then, as if our minds were linked somehow, we both looked at Tommy.
He was just standing there by the door, hand still on the knob after closing it.
His mouth was open and I could see a couple of fillings.
When he saw us looking, he clamped his mouth shut and looked confused, but eager.
His eyes were shining in the dim light, his face had a sweaty sheen.
“Sit over there, dude,” ordered Mike.
Tommy, a guy who thinks nothing of buying nine-hundred-dollar suits, did as the barman told him and sat on a chair by the TV, facing the bed.
Mike reached out and put his hands on my breasts, smiling as he fondled them, weighed them, ran his fingers down my torso, touched my vulva through my panties.
“Nice,” he murmured. “You wanna make out, babe?”
I reached out and took his dick in my hand.
It was a shock, in a way, to grasp something so substantial.
I had of course asked for dick pics, just to be sure he was well hung, but there’s a big difference when you encounter that kind of package in real life.
I gently led him to the bed by his stiffening schlong, and we lay facing one another on the cheap, tacky covers.
Murmuring more admiring words, Mike casually flipped my left boob out of the underwired bra and fastened his sensuous mouth onto my nipple.
I was gently stroking him as he sucked and nibbled.
His other hand put strong fingers inside my panties and started to probe me, making me damp.
I had been a little nervous, but now we were getting down to it I felt unalloyed pleasure.
I got that old, familiar sensation of my body firing up and getting ready to release pent-up frustration.
I began to masturbate Mike, enjoying the way his cock became tumescent as I stroked my fingers up and down the shaft.
He was big, about eight inches long, and when fully erect he was also rock hard.
It made a change from the half-flaccid dick that Tommy had shoved into me a few times over the last six months or so.
I disengaged Mike’s mouth from my tit and slid down the bed, to fasten my lips on his cock.
“Oh, yeah,” he moaned quietly. “Suck it, baby.”
I sucked it. I slurped and licked too. I enjoyed the novel sensation of a big cock in my mouth, along with the more general pleasure of Mike’s excellent body.
I was nice and wet thanks to his frigging me a little.
I began to imagine what his beefy cock would feel like inside me, even as it bulged out my cheek.
I tasted the salty tang of pre-cum, and knew that I would have to spit or swallow very soon.
“Hey, easy, baby,” Mike warned. “Keep it on the edge.”
We’d talked about this, and I quickly pulled my lips off his stiff, upcurving cock.
We shifted position a little until he was lying back, head on the pillows, looking up at me while I embraced my inner cowgirl.
I lowered my eager vulva slowly onto the bulging pink tip of his impressive phallus.
I took it carefully because I didn’t want to make him come all at once, obviously, and anyway you don’t just ram something that size up your cunt, however slick with juice it may be.
He guided his not-so-little friend inside me and I gasped with pleasure.
It stretched me, filled me, and without thinking I started to move my hips, doing the old figure eight move.
“Edge, baby.” Mike smiled, seeing that I was in danger of getting carried away.
“Sorry,” I breathed, easing off.
I gave my cunt muscles a try, wondering if I had any real capacity to grip down there. I managed what felt to me like a gentle squeeze, but his response suggested it was more.
“Hey, baby, you are gonna make me come,” he warned. “Might as well get it over with, get bouncin’.”
I laughed as he took me by the waist with his big, capable hands and helped me move with him way up inside me.
I love being on top, controlling the action, and making my man lose control.
But now my man was a relative stranger, someone far more confident and, well, manly than Tommy.
Why on earth my husband would want to see this was still a mystery, but I was determined to give him what he wanted. And maybe a little more.
“Okay,” I said, starting to move my ass again. “Here we go.”
I felt the first hint of my own orgasm, rapidly growing and spreading like a silent, slow-mo explosion in my loins.
I moaned, and heard Mike start to curse as he, too, approached climax.
As I came, I felt his spunk shoot up inside me.
I threw my head back, feeling my internal muscles clenching instinctively, as the warm cum filled me.
“Holy Jesus Fuck!” Mike yelled. “Fuck, that’s good!”
I continued to bounce on his dick as he emptied his big balls into me.
After I was sure he was done, and my own cunt had finished spasming, I rolled over and he slipped out of me.
I felt warm spunk dribbling out, loving the sensation, running my hand over his cheek in gratitude.
He, in turn, fondled my butt cheek, squeezed me playfully.
It was only then that I remembered Tommy, and looked over to where he was still sitting in the tatty motel chair.
He had his dick out and was wanking frantically, looking even sweatier and sadder than before.
He had finally got his real-life cuck experience, and it had not disappointed.
I had explained that we would simply go home after I was ‘finished.’ But I had not defined when the finish would be, or what it would involve.
“Hey, Tommy,” I said. “You wanna come over here?”
He looked startled, a rabbit in the headlights, as if someone in a porn vid had spoken to him directly, breaking that fourth wall.
Maybe he had somehow defined what was happening in that way, imagining himself invisible.
But after the initial surprise, he got up and, shuffling comically with his pants around his ankles, made his way to the bed.
Then he stood looking down at us, looking half-witted.
“You wanna help big Mike here get ready for round two?” I asked.