Cousin Waseem
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It Was A Hotly Unusual Occasion free porn video
Em was in a very unusual situation. It wasn't that she was lying nearly naked with her legs spread wide open in the middle of a super-king-size bed in an expensive hotel suite. It was certainly not that her fuck-me's and her little cocktail dress were lying in a wantonly discarded heap where they had been thrown after they were rather warmly removed.
The fact that she had then briefly worn just a tiny black lace string, vey sheer black stockings and a very tiny black lace bra was not unusual either. Nor was it in the least bit strange that a man whose delightfully hard shaft would very soon be invading her vagina had snapped open her bra and pushed it up so that his tongue and his teeth could worship her firm, pert breasts and their erotically rock-hard nipples.
She had noted between frissons that he was a very skilled and practised breast and nipple worshiper. She had also uttered little cries of delight and spread her legs even wider than ever as she felt her pussy lips opening.
It wasn't that her tiny black string had been pulled off her hot little mound and left for a while stretched very tightly around her uppermost thighs. Nor was it the delight of watching the lustful discovery as this was done, by a naked man showing clear signs of great passion, of the sexily manicured little triangle of hair she kept there.
It wasn't that a naked man's hotly questing tongue had pushed apart her pussy lips five minutes ago, either. Or that the firm tip of his tongue had then wetly and erotically, and with great promise of forthcoming delight, circled her clit, giving her immense pleasure.
It was none of these things. Moments of this nature happened quite often, especially when she was away on a business trip, as she was on this occasion. She often got hot for illicit cock (and not infrequently for the differently delectable delights of a hot woman).
When Em wanted away-from-home sex, she generally got it, one way or another.
As she had, just for example, she thought (with a suddenly apparent secret warmth between her legs) only the week before in Macao, on a short business trip from frequently visited Hong Kong, her usual hunting ground. She had summoned the city’s friendliest masseur (on the advice of a girlfriend who swore by him) and had loudly enjoyed three hours of sublime sensual and sexual pleasure (and two fantastic fucks) late in the evening in her hotel suite.
No, it was none of these things that made this evening’s entertainment unusual. It was two other things: It had not been her plan and the man was her new boss.
As a rule, Em avoided office entanglements, especially with the boss. For one thing, they tended to get in the way of her day job. She never allowed that.
Well, almost never.
She also tried to avoid situations in which she was engaged with someone Ambrose knew or might meet on his business circuit. This wasn’t because he mightn’t like it (he took the view that fidelity was a mental thing, not physical) but simply to foreclose on possible embarrassment to others.
It also helped to be coldly professional at work. Em’s firm rule was that no one should ever have reason to gossip about her. Ambrose did the same, she knew. As a general rule: Nothing was ever guaranteed to work out perfectly.
Tonight’s upcoming and thoroughly desirable misadventure, therefore, was outside the rules. That gave it an extra frisson, she had to admit. It was true too that when the new boss had arrived, just a week or so ago, she had liked what she saw – in that sort of way.
At their first one-on-one meeting her nipples had hardened and her pussy had moistened. She thought at the time that only someone who knew her very well and was as gifted with insight as Ambrose would have spotted this.
Apparently she had been wrong. Tonight, on a meet-and-greet overnight trip to another city with the new boss (an hour by plane from their separate marital beds) he had directly broached the subject over a late dinner at their hotel.
He had said, over the tapas plate they had shared as an appetizer, “We’re not at work now, Em. I have to tell you that you are a seriously sexy woman. I also have to ask you, do you play?”
Em had smiled and then blushed. This was also an unusual situation. She hadn’t had to answer. He knew what the answer was.
“Ah, so you are not the Ice Maiden,” he said with a grin. He put his hand on hers. “I thought we had shared a moment at our first meeting. I have to tell you that throughout that delicious thirty minutes I had a huge hard-on.”
He paused. “I felt very bad about that until I noticed you were having a moment too.”
Em blushed again. Her nipples instantly hardened. She knew that this would be plainly obvious through the light cocktail dress and the insubstantially inadequate little bra she was wearing. She found to her surprise that she didn’t mind that at all.
What did worry her was that her pussy had instantly moistened too, wetting the thin lace string between her legs and threatening to leave a mark on the expensive velour fabric of her chair.
“I don’t do office romances, David,” she said. “Well, that is, I almost never do office romances. I certainly have never done so with the boss.”
He squeezed her hand tightly and looked straight into her eyes. “A sound rule Em,” he said. “Like all rules, it should occasionally be broken, when circumstances demand.”
Under the table, Em pushed forward her left foot, which was clad in a very sexy and very high-heeled stiletto. She caressed his expensively socked ankle with the shoe’s shiny pointed toe.
He squeezed her hand tighter. “I have a hard-on that will eventually require your absolute attention, Em,” he said, with another grin.
She allowed the sexy little pink tip of her tongue to part her lips and moisten them in a very sensuous way. “I have a suddenly very hot pussy that absolutely demands the exceptionally close and prolonged attention of your cock,” she said.
They looked deeply at each other, thinking hot thoughts about what was soon to happen. The table waiter broke their reverie. He had brought their main courses.
Em ate her Caesar salad in quiet reflection. Her boss, whose brains she would soon be upstairs fucking out as only she could (he had a treat coming, she thought with an inner grin) ate his minute steak and salad in a similarly reflective fashion.
They drank some very nice pinot noir. Em was pleased to discover that as well as a liberal perspective on sexual adventure, her new boss had excellent taste in wine.
She considered the facts. He had met Ambrose and she had met his wife at the welcome drinks held a day or so after he’d arrived to take over as CEO. They’d had dinner together, the four of them, afterwards.
Over their entrees Ambrose and David had discussed Canadian mining futures. Over the main course, Ambrose had engaged David’s wife in a playful analysis of that week’s New York Times best-seller list. Em often wondered how on earth Ambrose managed to be so across so much. Although of course, it was his job to be across everything.
They had seemed to hit it off, Em thought, Ambrose and David’s wife, whose name was Ngaire and who had grown up in New Zealand and had rather engagingly spoken of fush instead of fish when she ordered the lemon sole.
She was a svelte and sexy blonde with nice legs and, Em judged from the conservative but promissory swell of her bust, very trim tits. She was a year or so older than Em, perhaps 10 years younger than Ambrose.
Em had wondered, without rancour, whether (or rather, she thought, when) Ambrose would apply his patented real blonde test to her boss’s wife. She had looked as if she might be up for it with the right player. Em was fairly sure, having applied her scholarly discipline to the question, that Ngaire had already listed Ambrose as a potential big hitter in her league.
Em had never believed Ambrose when he insisted that for him the chase was more fun than the kill. She remembered their own first time, years ago now, and exactly how he had pulled off her boots and pushed up her skirt and torn her panties off and feasted on her furry mound and hot-nailed her wet and very willing vagina to the bed.
He had loudly enjoyed the kill then, and so had she. It still gave her some very hot moments from time to time, that memory.
She finished her Caesar salad. She thought, with a smile, that Ambrose’s lifelong search for the perfect Caesar, into which he had co-opted her, would have to continue. Hers had been good tonight, but it wouldn’t pass the perfect test.
The man across the table, whose cock she would soon be seeing and sampling, finished his steak. “Shall we have dessert and coffee?” he asked her. “I’d like a little more time to warmly anticipate the delights that I shall find and then deeply explore under your dress.”
Em felt a hot flush run through her and knew that her inner thighs had suddenly become even wetter. He was a very sexy man, her new boss.
“As long as you don’t make me have so much that I can’t eat your cock,” she said, looking at him with a sweet smile.
“Just a nibble then,” he said, offering his own sweet smile.
Em chose a light raspberry surprise. She poked her sexy little tongue-tip out and said to the man across the table, for whom she now had an immediate desire, “I do like a surprise.” He selected a decorous soufflé. “I’m sure this can rise at least twice,” he said with a wink.
They ate and drank their espressos, each thinking hotly about what was soon to take place.
Em thought that he was bound to surprise her and that he was certainly no soufflé. She was looking forward to that.
She knew she would surprise him. She was looking forward to that with even keener anticipation. It was clear that they would be spending the entire night together. She would have plenty of time to introduce him to her sudden, early-hours, very hot girl-on-top sixty-nine.
She had most recently given her Macau masseur one of those, the modified not-staying-all-night version, as a going-away present. He had shouted very loudly indeed. All the men she had so far rewarded in that fashion did.
“I’ll just give Ambrose a quick call,” she said to David. He looked momentarily alarmed. Em laughed. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m just going to tell him I can’t call him later because I have a lot to get through and I’ll be hard at it for a while.”
He looked at her and laughed in turn. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” he said. “Yes, David, I have,” she said. “I haven’t done it with you yet though. I’m looking forward to rectifying that oversight.”
She made a keep-quiet sign with her fingers and her lips and made the call. It was brief. David looked on in astonishment when she said on the phone exactly what she’d said she would.
“Ambrose is not a man to miss the subtext,” he said.
“He knows I’m having dinner with a man and that I have plans for later,” said Em. “He doesn’t know you’re the man I’m having dinner with and he’ll never know. He’ll never ask who it was.”
David looked at her. Then he called the waiter over and asked for the bill. When this was done and he had signed the account and the waiter was again safely out of earshot, he said: “I think it’s time we got down to that business that’s going to keep you hard at it for while.”
Em’s mouth was suddenly very dry. But she managed to say, a little hoarsely, “Yes. Will that be in your suite?”
He smiled and said, “Yes. It has a very big bed and several other places that might suit us if the mood inspires.”
They went to the elevators. Theirs had other people in it. Em got out at her floor, with an unobtrusive wink and a cheery “See you later.”
She waited for a lift going down to the lobby level, looked briefly into the bar as if she was trying to spot someone, and then got back into the elevator. It was empty. She pressed the express button for the suite floor.
He opened the door the moment she pressed the bell. He was naked. His cock was to die for. So was the neatly trimmed power-square of black hair above. Em was a connoisseur of such things. She noted, for hot later attention, that its width exactly matched that of the thick cock it complimented.
“You’re wearing far too much, Em,” he said. “This is a very private party.”
He took her hand and led her into the bedroom and placed her gently, on her back, in the middle of the very big bed. She spread her legs wide. He took off her shoes and unzipped and very sexily removed her little cocktail dress and dropped them on the floor.
His cock got even longer and harder when he saw her fine and exceptionally tiny black lace underwear. He unclipped her bra and pushed it up and licked and bit her breasts and nipples.
Then his hands took hold of her little black lace string and pulled it gently down so that it stretched tightly across the very top of her thighs. He murmured, “Oh god how beautiful,” when this manoeuvre revealed the tiny little triangle of dark hair on Em’s hot mound.
He sampled her little furry offering with his lips, his tongue and his teeth. While he did this his nimble fingers were pinching her hard nipples. Then he briefly slipped his tongue into her cleft and downwards into her opening.
He licked her clit. Em shouted loudly.
While he was doing this he removed her sheer black stockings and her bra. He dropped them on the floor where they lay wantonly with her shoes and her little black dress.
Em came.
When she had partially recovered from this delightful experience, he slipped her moist little string down her thighs, over her knees, down her calves and off over her feet. He tasted it and then threw it on the pile beside the bed.
He pushed Em’s long, slim and ultra-sexy legs very wide apart and held them by the ankles.
She watched with hot excitement as he moved forward and presented her with his hard cock.
She watched and felt it part her pussy lips and enter her. He fucked her very quickly that first time, encouraged by Em’s wild shouts.
They came together, he with his back arched as he shouted at the ceiling, she bucking under him, her pert breasts jiggling. She shouted even more loudly and wildly when she felt his six hot ejaculations flooding her.
The fact that she had then briefly worn just a tiny black lace string, vey sheer black stockings and a very tiny black lace bra was not unusual either. Nor was it in the least bit strange that a man whose delightfully hard shaft would very soon be invading her vagina had snapped open her bra and pushed it up so that his tongue and his teeth could worship her firm, pert breasts and their erotically rock-hard nipples.
She had noted between frissons that he was a very skilled and practised breast and nipple worshiper. She had also uttered little cries of delight and spread her legs even wider than ever as she felt her pussy lips opening.
It wasn't that her tiny black string had been pulled off her hot little mound and left for a while stretched very tightly around her uppermost thighs. Nor was it the delight of watching the lustful discovery as this was done, by a naked man showing clear signs of great passion, of the sexily manicured little triangle of hair she kept there.
It wasn't that a naked man's hotly questing tongue had pushed apart her pussy lips five minutes ago, either. Or that the firm tip of his tongue had then wetly and erotically, and with great promise of forthcoming delight, circled her clit, giving her immense pleasure.
It was none of these things. Moments of this nature happened quite often, especially when she was away on a business trip, as she was on this occasion. She often got hot for illicit cock (and not infrequently for the differently delectable delights of a hot woman).
When Em wanted away-from-home sex, she generally got it, one way or another.
As she had, just for example, she thought (with a suddenly apparent secret warmth between her legs) only the week before in Macao, on a short business trip from frequently visited Hong Kong, her usual hunting ground. She had summoned the city’s friendliest masseur (on the advice of a girlfriend who swore by him) and had loudly enjoyed three hours of sublime sensual and sexual pleasure (and two fantastic fucks) late in the evening in her hotel suite.
No, it was none of these things that made this evening’s entertainment unusual. It was two other things: It had not been her plan and the man was her new boss.
As a rule, Em avoided office entanglements, especially with the boss. For one thing, they tended to get in the way of her day job. She never allowed that.
Well, almost never.
She also tried to avoid situations in which she was engaged with someone Ambrose knew or might meet on his business circuit. This wasn’t because he mightn’t like it (he took the view that fidelity was a mental thing, not physical) but simply to foreclose on possible embarrassment to others.
It also helped to be coldly professional at work. Em’s firm rule was that no one should ever have reason to gossip about her. Ambrose did the same, she knew. As a general rule: Nothing was ever guaranteed to work out perfectly.
Tonight’s upcoming and thoroughly desirable misadventure, therefore, was outside the rules. That gave it an extra frisson, she had to admit. It was true too that when the new boss had arrived, just a week or so ago, she had liked what she saw – in that sort of way.
At their first one-on-one meeting her nipples had hardened and her pussy had moistened. She thought at the time that only someone who knew her very well and was as gifted with insight as Ambrose would have spotted this.
Apparently she had been wrong. Tonight, on a meet-and-greet overnight trip to another city with the new boss (an hour by plane from their separate marital beds) he had directly broached the subject over a late dinner at their hotel.
He had said, over the tapas plate they had shared as an appetizer, “We’re not at work now, Em. I have to tell you that you are a seriously sexy woman. I also have to ask you, do you play?”
Em had smiled and then blushed. This was also an unusual situation. She hadn’t had to answer. He knew what the answer was.
“Ah, so you are not the Ice Maiden,” he said with a grin. He put his hand on hers. “I thought we had shared a moment at our first meeting. I have to tell you that throughout that delicious thirty minutes I had a huge hard-on.”
He paused. “I felt very bad about that until I noticed you were having a moment too.”
Em blushed again. Her nipples instantly hardened. She knew that this would be plainly obvious through the light cocktail dress and the insubstantially inadequate little bra she was wearing. She found to her surprise that she didn’t mind that at all.
What did worry her was that her pussy had instantly moistened too, wetting the thin lace string between her legs and threatening to leave a mark on the expensive velour fabric of her chair.
“I don’t do office romances, David,” she said. “Well, that is, I almost never do office romances. I certainly have never done so with the boss.”
He squeezed her hand tightly and looked straight into her eyes. “A sound rule Em,” he said. “Like all rules, it should occasionally be broken, when circumstances demand.”
Under the table, Em pushed forward her left foot, which was clad in a very sexy and very high-heeled stiletto. She caressed his expensively socked ankle with the shoe’s shiny pointed toe.
He squeezed her hand tighter. “I have a hard-on that will eventually require your absolute attention, Em,” he said, with another grin.
She allowed the sexy little pink tip of her tongue to part her lips and moisten them in a very sensuous way. “I have a suddenly very hot pussy that absolutely demands the exceptionally close and prolonged attention of your cock,” she said.
They looked deeply at each other, thinking hot thoughts about what was soon to happen. The table waiter broke their reverie. He had brought their main courses.
Em ate her Caesar salad in quiet reflection. Her boss, whose brains she would soon be upstairs fucking out as only she could (he had a treat coming, she thought with an inner grin) ate his minute steak and salad in a similarly reflective fashion.
They drank some very nice pinot noir. Em was pleased to discover that as well as a liberal perspective on sexual adventure, her new boss had excellent taste in wine.
She considered the facts. He had met Ambrose and she had met his wife at the welcome drinks held a day or so after he’d arrived to take over as CEO. They’d had dinner together, the four of them, afterwards.
Over their entrees Ambrose and David had discussed Canadian mining futures. Over the main course, Ambrose had engaged David’s wife in a playful analysis of that week’s New York Times best-seller list. Em often wondered how on earth Ambrose managed to be so across so much. Although of course, it was his job to be across everything.
They had seemed to hit it off, Em thought, Ambrose and David’s wife, whose name was Ngaire and who had grown up in New Zealand and had rather engagingly spoken of fush instead of fish when she ordered the lemon sole.
She was a svelte and sexy blonde with nice legs and, Em judged from the conservative but promissory swell of her bust, very trim tits. She was a year or so older than Em, perhaps 10 years younger than Ambrose.
Em had wondered, without rancour, whether (or rather, she thought, when) Ambrose would apply his patented real blonde test to her boss’s wife. She had looked as if she might be up for it with the right player. Em was fairly sure, having applied her scholarly discipline to the question, that Ngaire had already listed Ambrose as a potential big hitter in her league.
Em had never believed Ambrose when he insisted that for him the chase was more fun than the kill. She remembered their own first time, years ago now, and exactly how he had pulled off her boots and pushed up her skirt and torn her panties off and feasted on her furry mound and hot-nailed her wet and very willing vagina to the bed.
He had loudly enjoyed the kill then, and so had she. It still gave her some very hot moments from time to time, that memory.
She finished her Caesar salad. She thought, with a smile, that Ambrose’s lifelong search for the perfect Caesar, into which he had co-opted her, would have to continue. Hers had been good tonight, but it wouldn’t pass the perfect test.
The man across the table, whose cock she would soon be seeing and sampling, finished his steak. “Shall we have dessert and coffee?” he asked her. “I’d like a little more time to warmly anticipate the delights that I shall find and then deeply explore under your dress.”
Em felt a hot flush run through her and knew that her inner thighs had suddenly become even wetter. He was a very sexy man, her new boss.
“As long as you don’t make me have so much that I can’t eat your cock,” she said, looking at him with a sweet smile.
“Just a nibble then,” he said, offering his own sweet smile.
Em chose a light raspberry surprise. She poked her sexy little tongue-tip out and said to the man across the table, for whom she now had an immediate desire, “I do like a surprise.” He selected a decorous soufflé. “I’m sure this can rise at least twice,” he said with a wink.
They ate and drank their espressos, each thinking hotly about what was soon to take place.
Em thought that he was bound to surprise her and that he was certainly no soufflé. She was looking forward to that.
She knew she would surprise him. She was looking forward to that with even keener anticipation. It was clear that they would be spending the entire night together. She would have plenty of time to introduce him to her sudden, early-hours, very hot girl-on-top sixty-nine.
She had most recently given her Macau masseur one of those, the modified not-staying-all-night version, as a going-away present. He had shouted very loudly indeed. All the men she had so far rewarded in that fashion did.
“I’ll just give Ambrose a quick call,” she said to David. He looked momentarily alarmed. Em laughed. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m just going to tell him I can’t call him later because I have a lot to get through and I’ll be hard at it for a while.”
He looked at her and laughed in turn. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” he said. “Yes, David, I have,” she said. “I haven’t done it with you yet though. I’m looking forward to rectifying that oversight.”
She made a keep-quiet sign with her fingers and her lips and made the call. It was brief. David looked on in astonishment when she said on the phone exactly what she’d said she would.
“Ambrose is not a man to miss the subtext,” he said.
“He knows I’m having dinner with a man and that I have plans for later,” said Em. “He doesn’t know you’re the man I’m having dinner with and he’ll never know. He’ll never ask who it was.”
David looked at her. Then he called the waiter over and asked for the bill. When this was done and he had signed the account and the waiter was again safely out of earshot, he said: “I think it’s time we got down to that business that’s going to keep you hard at it for while.”
Em’s mouth was suddenly very dry. But she managed to say, a little hoarsely, “Yes. Will that be in your suite?”
He smiled and said, “Yes. It has a very big bed and several other places that might suit us if the mood inspires.”
They went to the elevators. Theirs had other people in it. Em got out at her floor, with an unobtrusive wink and a cheery “See you later.”
She waited for a lift going down to the lobby level, looked briefly into the bar as if she was trying to spot someone, and then got back into the elevator. It was empty. She pressed the express button for the suite floor.
He opened the door the moment she pressed the bell. He was naked. His cock was to die for. So was the neatly trimmed power-square of black hair above. Em was a connoisseur of such things. She noted, for hot later attention, that its width exactly matched that of the thick cock it complimented.
“You’re wearing far too much, Em,” he said. “This is a very private party.”
He took her hand and led her into the bedroom and placed her gently, on her back, in the middle of the very big bed. She spread her legs wide. He took off her shoes and unzipped and very sexily removed her little cocktail dress and dropped them on the floor.
His cock got even longer and harder when he saw her fine and exceptionally tiny black lace underwear. He unclipped her bra and pushed it up and licked and bit her breasts and nipples.
Then his hands took hold of her little black lace string and pulled it gently down so that it stretched tightly across the very top of her thighs. He murmured, “Oh god how beautiful,” when this manoeuvre revealed the tiny little triangle of dark hair on Em’s hot mound.
He sampled her little furry offering with his lips, his tongue and his teeth. While he did this his nimble fingers were pinching her hard nipples. Then he briefly slipped his tongue into her cleft and downwards into her opening.
He licked her clit. Em shouted loudly.
While he was doing this he removed her sheer black stockings and her bra. He dropped them on the floor where they lay wantonly with her shoes and her little black dress.
Em came.
When she had partially recovered from this delightful experience, he slipped her moist little string down her thighs, over her knees, down her calves and off over her feet. He tasted it and then threw it on the pile beside the bed.
He pushed Em’s long, slim and ultra-sexy legs very wide apart and held them by the ankles.
She watched with hot excitement as he moved forward and presented her with his hard cock.
She watched and felt it part her pussy lips and enter her. He fucked her very quickly that first time, encouraged by Em’s wild shouts.
They came together, he with his back arched as he shouted at the ceiling, she bucking under him, her pert breasts jiggling. She shouted even more loudly and wildly when she felt his six hot ejaculations flooding her.
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