My Sexual Odyssey Part IV From Slut to Whore
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My Sexual Odyssey Part IV: From Slut To Whore free porn video
The next day as I went to work, I wondered what adventures lay before me. In a sense, it was up to me, in that I just had to put myself out there, not to mention put out. Still, the outcomes are unpredictable: I had no way of knowing ahead of time that a coffee date would turn into such a wild experience. When I arrived home I called Tom, and told him everything that happened the previous day. He seemed pleased for me, and encouraged me to continue with my adventures.
I resolved to call another of my admirers from the club, and see what would come of it. As I scanned the remaining scraps of paper, and attempted to decipher the scrawls, I realized I had no idea which name and number belonged with which man. That was off-putting, but there was no alternative other than not calling anyone. I selected one, almost randomly, but chiefly because I could make out the number. I then took a deep breath, and pushed the buttons. After an interval, a man’s voice answered.
“Hi, Brad? This is Tracy. From the other night at the club?”
“Oh, hi! I’m surprised to hear from you! So many times people say they’ll call, then you never hear from them again.”
“I know, and I don’t want to be like that. So....”
“Well, anyway, I’m not too sure what to say next. Would you like to get together sometime?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Great. When’s good for you?”
“I work of course, but I’m free at night.”
“Me too. So, maybe tomorrow then?”
“Okay. What would you like to do?”
“That’s a loaded question for a girl to ask a man!”
Nice that he thinks of me as a girl. But then, why not? That’s how I presented myself; that’s how I looked when he met me, and that’s what he was attracted to.
“Still, we should decide on where we are going to go, right?”
“Of course! How about we go for a drink, then we can talk and get to know each other?”
“Sounds good.”
“Okay, great, I’ll pick you up. Eight o’clock?”
“Okay, let me give you my address.”
“Great, thanks.”
Then we hung up, and I wondered how much was going to happen on our date. Then it occurred to me that, as a girl, it was always up to me. Therefore, there was nothing to wonder about. Nothing would happen that I didn’t want to happen, and anything I wanted to happen almost certainly would. Consequently, there was no reason to wonder, much less worry, but of course I did anyway.
Of course, why were we getting together at all? Obviously for sex. It is not as though we were seeking a platonic relationship, and clearly romance was not the goal. Therefore, there was no other reason for us to meet besides sex. Consequently, there was no point in pretending otherwise, or in wondering what would happen. We were meeting to have sex, if not on the first date, then soon, and since sex was what both of us were after, why not the first date? If the chemistry wasn’t there, it wouldn’t be there on a second date. If the chemistry wasn’t there, there would be no second date. So okay, we were going to fuck. The only question that remained was where. That we would figure out as the evening progressed.
The following day at work was uneventful, and I had ample time to prepare for our date after returning home. Since we weren’t meeting until eight, that meant we were not going out for dinner. So, what then? He didn’t invite me to go and do anything specific, and eight o’clock in the evening doesn’t mean coffee, so it must be for drinks. So, that would be our evening: drinks followed by fucking. I might as well face it. If this is not what I want, then I shouldn’t have called him, much less accepted the invitation. However, since I did both, I was more or less committed to putting out for this stranger within the next few hours. This realization made me feel both hot, and cheap and slutty at the same time.
So okay, what does a cheap slut wear to suck and fuck a strange cock for the first time? Obviously, something cheap and slutty. I decided on black stockings with a red garter belt, no panties, and a tight, sheer, dress with a slit-skirt, and black, patent-leather fuck-me pumps. Simple, easy to take off in a hurry, and hot. A little sensuous musky perfume, a long flowing blonde wig, and some make-up, and I was good to go, or hot to trot, depending on how you choose to look at it.
Seven o’clock rolled around, and I was ready. I poured a glass of wine, and relaxed as much as I was able, given that I was already aroused and excited. Eventually eight o’clock arrived, and so did he. I was finally able to put the face with the name. Yes, I had chosen nicely, as he was a tall, attractive, trim and clean man with nice manners.
“Hi Brad!”
“Hi Tracy, good to see you again! Ready to go?”
“Yes, I’m looking forward to it. Where are you taking me?”
“I was hoping you’d like this cocktail lounge I go to; does that sound okay?”
“Of course! Let’s go!”
“Great!”
He walked me to his car, and as he did so, placed his hand nonchalantly on my back, then slid it down a bit, then removed it. Nice. Smooth. Sensuous, flirtatious, but not too much too soon. He opened the door for me, a real gentleman, then walked around the car and got in and started the car. I wasn’t sure what to talk about, so I began by asking him what he did. He told me he was a FedEx driver, that he was married, that his wife doesn’t much like sex anymore, but that they had kids, so he wouldn’t leave. I respected that, and understood why he was with me, and that he wanted someone who wasn’t going to make him feel sexually unappealing, and that he hoped that would be me. I had to admit, I didn’t find him unappealing in the least, and I wondered why his wife did. Then I realized that it probably wasn’t him at all, but that she just had issues with sex as such.
We arrived at the cocktail lounge. It was plush, quiet, understated, and dark. Brad escorted me to a booth where we had some privacy, and I scooted in. I sort of wished he’d sit next to me, but I suppose that would have been odd. Anyway, we ordered our drinks, and then he began flirting with me. I liked it, and I liked him, so I flirted back. More drinks, more flirting, and I could tell he was getting aroused. I have to admit I enjoyed that, but not being a tease, I was not about to make him wait too long, much less reject him like his wife, and probably most genetic women who didn’t want a relationship with a married man.
He was looking as though he wanted to make the next move, but wasn’t sure how to go about it, for fear of another rejection. I decided to help, and so I said, “So, would you like to go someplace private where we can get to know each other better?”
“Why, yes! Of course! But where?”
“Well, isn’t this cocktail lounge in a hotel?”
“Yes, that’s true. Were you thinking we should....”
“Why not? It’s what we both want, isn’t it?”
“Well, yes. Really? Oh, God, this is wonderful! You’re wonderful!”
“Well then, come on.”
“Okay. Right. I’ll get get us a room. Oh, God!”
It was cute the way he reacted. He went from being Mr. Smooth to a teenager about to get the head cheerleader. He almost bolted out of his seat, and tried not to run to the reservation desk. I trailed behind, then reminded him he forgot to pay the bar tab. He went back, paid the bill, left a tip, then joined me by the elevators. As the elevator doors opened, we entered by ourselves. I asked Brad where we were going, and he looked at the room key and said, “1805.”
As we approached the eighteenth floor, I stepped out of my pumps, then bent down to pick them up. As we got to the eighteenth floor, I began unzipping my dress. Brad seemed surprised. We stepped out of the elevator, and walked toward the door of our room. While Brad fumbled with the room key, I let my dress drop to the floor, and bent over to retrieve it, giving him a good look at my smooth, sweet little bottom.
Brad was rather surprised, but he didn’t seem displeased. He looked around to see if anyone saw, then quickly opened the door, and rapidly ushered me into the room, where I immediately fell into his arms. We hugged, he felt my ass up and down, then hurriedly undressed. He took my hand and walked me to the bed. I sat on the edge of the bed, then, caressed his growing cock in my had before putting it into my eagerly waiting mouth. I thought Brad was going to faint. I’ve seldom seen anyone so excited. He came right away, then apologized for doing so. I reassured him, telling him we had lots of time.
As we lay on the bed, I cupped his balls in my hand, and in due course, his cock began to come to life again. This time I went down on him more carefully, and gently licked and caressed its full length with my mouth, lips and tongue. As he became hard, I could tell he was ready, and so applied the lube I had strategically placed near by. I then slipped into position beneath him. He seemed so grateful, and almost disbelieving. As we began to fuck, he relaxed, and got into a nice, sweet rhythm. As most men, he occasionally addressed the deities of his choice, presumably in expression of gratitude for his good fortune.
The upside of his having cum so soon when I sucked his cock was that he was now able to hold his erection for some time, which pleased both of us. We fucked away, just enjoying the primal lust, untainted by any other concerns. I wasn’t going to get pregnant, I wasn’t going to interfere with his marriage, and he wasn’t going to be looking for romance or undying commitments from me. After twenty or more minutes, he eventually came with great ardor, attended by an increase in the velocity and force of his thrusts. We just lay there for some time, after which Brad asked me if this was a one-time thing, or could he see me again. I said sure he could, what did he have in mind?
“Well, how about tomorrow?”
“What, tomorrow? So soon?”
“”Why not?”
“Well, I don’t know, it just seems a bit much. After all, this is only our first time together.”
“But didn’t you enjoy it?”
“Of course, but....”
“What I we hoping for was something regular, you know, friends with benefits? Lot’s of them!”
“I see! And just how often were you hoping to see me?”
“Well, actually, every day.”
“Every day!! Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am. I mean, I have a strong sex drive, and no sexual outlet, ‘til now, anyway, and since we both like what we’re doing, I just figured....”
“Yes, I know, but very day? How would that even be possible?
“It’s fairly simple, really, we could meet at lunch time and....”
“Wait a minute! I work. How would we meet at lunchtime? We wouldn’t have time to come here, and your place is out, and by the time we went to my place and back again we’d have no time to do anything.”
“How about in my truck?”
“What do you mean?”
“I could park near where you work, and we could have sex in the back of the truck. I always wanted to do that anyway.”
“That’s crazy!”
“Not really.”
“But I don’t go to work dressed in these clothes, so how....”
“Easy. Wear your stockings and garter belt or just stockings under your regular clothes, then just bring your wig to work. You can put it on in the truck, then just take off your street clothes, and you’d be ready.”
“This is nuts!”
“Yeah, maybe; but it would be a lot of fun!”
“I don’t know. I mean, yes, it sounds wild and all, but....”
“Why not give it a try? If you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again, right?”
“I suppose, it’s just....”
“I know, I know, it sounds weird, but what do you say? What have you got to lose?”
‘Well, lunch for one thing! When will I get to eat lunch?”
“I’m sure you can figure out something.”
“True. Well, I suppose it’s worth a try. But every day? I just never did it that much before.”
“You might like it.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m already getting to be more sexually active than I have ever been before.”
“Is that necessarily a bad thing? I mean, do you regret it, or dislike it?”
“No, I don’t, neither. Okay, so I’ll try it. But I’m not promising anything.”
“Okay, that’s fine, just give it a chance, see how it works. It’s new for me too you know.”
“Right. Christ! I don’t believe this!”
“So, tomorrow then?”
“Okay, yes. I’ll give you my work address.”
“Great! I’m sure it will be fun!”
“Hmmm. Maybe. Hope so. Not much point to it if it isn’t.”
Brad looked at the clock, and realized we’d better start getting ready to leave, so he wouldn’t be too late getting home. We got up, got dressed, and walked to then entered the elevator. We said nothing on the short ride down, and as we exited the elevator, he put his arm around me as we moved in the direction of his parked car.
On the way back to my place, I sat with my legs curled up, and snuggled against Brad with my hand on his leg. We arrived at my place too soon, and said our good-nights. As I entered my apartment, I wondered just what I was committing to. This was more demanding than I had anticipated, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be that over scheduled. Still, I could always stop, and besides, it was only during work hours; I still had my free time free. I decided I would go ahead with this, at least on an experimental basis. Nonetheless, it still sounded nuts, but a bit naughty and sexy as well.
The next day I remembered to dress as I had agreed, and to bring my wig to work. At the appointed hour, I went outside and looked for him. Sure enough, there was the FedEX truck parked innocently along the sidewalk near an apartment building. The back door was open, so I looked around, then hurriedly got in. As soon as I did so, I took off my outer layers of street clothes, donned the wig, and called out to Brad.
He quickly appeared, and closed the door. I was surprised that there was so much light available, but then there are glass windows of a sort in the roof of the truck. Makes sense, as the drivers need to be able to see the packages they have to deliver. Anyway, there was not much room, but I was able to sit on top of some boxes while Brad wordlessly undressed.
He unceremoniously shoved his thick cock into my mouth. While this is always fun for me, I felt like a cheap whore turning a trick; he could have said something nice. Anyway, I could tell he was just eager to fuck, so as soon as he got hard he had me bend over a pile of boxes and, using some lubricant he fortunately remembered to include, he inserted his cock. Without any attempts at pleasuring me, he just pumped away rapidly, the warmth from the friction being the only thing that aroused my ardor. I was surprised that I was turned on at all, but being fucked like a rag doll was something new, and strangely exciting, albeit it seedy and sleazy. Maybe it was precisely the tawdriness of it all that appealed to me on some level.
Brad merely increased the pace of his thrusts, making me feel like a used fuck toy. After a while, he suddenly pulled out and, spinning me around, pushed me down into a sitting position, simultaneously inserting his cock into my mouth, which he then proceeded to fuck like he did my now burning ass. The cum then spurted so hard it leaked out of the sides of my mouth, while I gulped down as much as I could. I always enjoy the taste and feel of warm cum, but there was something so slutty about this scene, I came from that, rather than the fucking I received.
As soon as Brad was finished, we collapsed onto a heap of clothes and cardboard boxes.
“What the fuck?”, I asked.
“I like it a little rough.”
“So I see.”
“How about you?”
“Not sure. I mean, while it was different, and sorta hot and exciting, it was also somewhat demeaning, brutal, sleazy--all that.”
“But still, you came without even being touched, so you must have been turned on.”
“I know. But then that happens to me sometime anyway. It’s just that I’m not used to being made to feel like an object or a prostitute.”
“So you never put out for money?”
“No way!”
“Does that mean you wouldn’t?”
“I can’t deny fantasizing occasionally, wondering what the experience would be like, but that’s different from actually wanting to, or being willing to.”
“This is probably pretty close then, servicing a man the way you did--the way you agreed to do daily.”
“I suppose so. I cannot be sure I will continue, but I will go through with it for now at least.”
“So we’re still on for tomorrow then?”
“Yes, we are. I don’t know how I can just go back to work like nothing special happened though!”
“But the fact that you have a secret sex life has got to be exciting, isn’t it?”
“Yes, exciting, but distracting; also a little worrisome.”
“How so?”
“It’s just that so many changes have occurred so quickly. In the space of just a few weeks, I have had more sex with more and different partners than in the last two years combined. It takes a bit of getting used to.”
“I can see that. Well, I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Same here. Same time same place tomorrow?”
“Right. Or at least nearby.”
“Okay, see you then.”
I exited the truck while stuffing my wig in the bag I brought it in, and hurried to the rest rooms so I could freshen up before returning to work. It all seemed unreal somehow. It happened so fast, and all of a sudden I was thrust back into ‘reality’.
So okay, I acted the whore and loved it. Great. Another milestone, if it was that. The rest of the afternoon was uneventful compared to my ‘lunch’ hour. Fortunately I was by now in no mood to eat anything, but I wolfed down an energy bar or two later on.
When I arrived home I called Tom and related the incident in detail. He sounded supportive as usual, and did his best to allay my concerns. I told him that I enjoyed it, but was not completely comfortable with that fact. He attributed my reaction to my usual pattern of anxiety in response to any novel experience. I had to agree, but this did nothing to diminish my discomfort. After we hung up I fixed myself something to eat then went to bed early.
I resolved to call another of my admirers from the club, and see what would come of it. As I scanned the remaining scraps of paper, and attempted to decipher the scrawls, I realized I had no idea which name and number belonged with which man. That was off-putting, but there was no alternative other than not calling anyone. I selected one, almost randomly, but chiefly because I could make out the number. I then took a deep breath, and pushed the buttons. After an interval, a man’s voice answered.
“Hi, Brad? This is Tracy. From the other night at the club?”
“Oh, hi! I’m surprised to hear from you! So many times people say they’ll call, then you never hear from them again.”
“I know, and I don’t want to be like that. So....”
“Well, anyway, I’m not too sure what to say next. Would you like to get together sometime?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Great. When’s good for you?”
“I work of course, but I’m free at night.”
“Me too. So, maybe tomorrow then?”
“Okay. What would you like to do?”
“That’s a loaded question for a girl to ask a man!”
Nice that he thinks of me as a girl. But then, why not? That’s how I presented myself; that’s how I looked when he met me, and that’s what he was attracted to.
“Still, we should decide on where we are going to go, right?”
“Of course! How about we go for a drink, then we can talk and get to know each other?”
“Sounds good.”
“Okay, great, I’ll pick you up. Eight o’clock?”
“Okay, let me give you my address.”
“Great, thanks.”
Then we hung up, and I wondered how much was going to happen on our date. Then it occurred to me that, as a girl, it was always up to me. Therefore, there was nothing to wonder about. Nothing would happen that I didn’t want to happen, and anything I wanted to happen almost certainly would. Consequently, there was no reason to wonder, much less worry, but of course I did anyway.
Of course, why were we getting together at all? Obviously for sex. It is not as though we were seeking a platonic relationship, and clearly romance was not the goal. Therefore, there was no other reason for us to meet besides sex. Consequently, there was no point in pretending otherwise, or in wondering what would happen. We were meeting to have sex, if not on the first date, then soon, and since sex was what both of us were after, why not the first date? If the chemistry wasn’t there, it wouldn’t be there on a second date. If the chemistry wasn’t there, there would be no second date. So okay, we were going to fuck. The only question that remained was where. That we would figure out as the evening progressed.
The following day at work was uneventful, and I had ample time to prepare for our date after returning home. Since we weren’t meeting until eight, that meant we were not going out for dinner. So, what then? He didn’t invite me to go and do anything specific, and eight o’clock in the evening doesn’t mean coffee, so it must be for drinks. So, that would be our evening: drinks followed by fucking. I might as well face it. If this is not what I want, then I shouldn’t have called him, much less accepted the invitation. However, since I did both, I was more or less committed to putting out for this stranger within the next few hours. This realization made me feel both hot, and cheap and slutty at the same time.
So okay, what does a cheap slut wear to suck and fuck a strange cock for the first time? Obviously, something cheap and slutty. I decided on black stockings with a red garter belt, no panties, and a tight, sheer, dress with a slit-skirt, and black, patent-leather fuck-me pumps. Simple, easy to take off in a hurry, and hot. A little sensuous musky perfume, a long flowing blonde wig, and some make-up, and I was good to go, or hot to trot, depending on how you choose to look at it.
Seven o’clock rolled around, and I was ready. I poured a glass of wine, and relaxed as much as I was able, given that I was already aroused and excited. Eventually eight o’clock arrived, and so did he. I was finally able to put the face with the name. Yes, I had chosen nicely, as he was a tall, attractive, trim and clean man with nice manners.
“Hi Brad!”
“Hi Tracy, good to see you again! Ready to go?”
“Yes, I’m looking forward to it. Where are you taking me?”
“I was hoping you’d like this cocktail lounge I go to; does that sound okay?”
“Of course! Let’s go!”
“Great!”
He walked me to his car, and as he did so, placed his hand nonchalantly on my back, then slid it down a bit, then removed it. Nice. Smooth. Sensuous, flirtatious, but not too much too soon. He opened the door for me, a real gentleman, then walked around the car and got in and started the car. I wasn’t sure what to talk about, so I began by asking him what he did. He told me he was a FedEx driver, that he was married, that his wife doesn’t much like sex anymore, but that they had kids, so he wouldn’t leave. I respected that, and understood why he was with me, and that he wanted someone who wasn’t going to make him feel sexually unappealing, and that he hoped that would be me. I had to admit, I didn’t find him unappealing in the least, and I wondered why his wife did. Then I realized that it probably wasn’t him at all, but that she just had issues with sex as such.
We arrived at the cocktail lounge. It was plush, quiet, understated, and dark. Brad escorted me to a booth where we had some privacy, and I scooted in. I sort of wished he’d sit next to me, but I suppose that would have been odd. Anyway, we ordered our drinks, and then he began flirting with me. I liked it, and I liked him, so I flirted back. More drinks, more flirting, and I could tell he was getting aroused. I have to admit I enjoyed that, but not being a tease, I was not about to make him wait too long, much less reject him like his wife, and probably most genetic women who didn’t want a relationship with a married man.
He was looking as though he wanted to make the next move, but wasn’t sure how to go about it, for fear of another rejection. I decided to help, and so I said, “So, would you like to go someplace private where we can get to know each other better?”
“Why, yes! Of course! But where?”
“Well, isn’t this cocktail lounge in a hotel?”
“Yes, that’s true. Were you thinking we should....”
“Why not? It’s what we both want, isn’t it?”
“Well, yes. Really? Oh, God, this is wonderful! You’re wonderful!”
“Well then, come on.”
“Okay. Right. I’ll get get us a room. Oh, God!”
It was cute the way he reacted. He went from being Mr. Smooth to a teenager about to get the head cheerleader. He almost bolted out of his seat, and tried not to run to the reservation desk. I trailed behind, then reminded him he forgot to pay the bar tab. He went back, paid the bill, left a tip, then joined me by the elevators. As the elevator doors opened, we entered by ourselves. I asked Brad where we were going, and he looked at the room key and said, “1805.”
As we approached the eighteenth floor, I stepped out of my pumps, then bent down to pick them up. As we got to the eighteenth floor, I began unzipping my dress. Brad seemed surprised. We stepped out of the elevator, and walked toward the door of our room. While Brad fumbled with the room key, I let my dress drop to the floor, and bent over to retrieve it, giving him a good look at my smooth, sweet little bottom.
Brad was rather surprised, but he didn’t seem displeased. He looked around to see if anyone saw, then quickly opened the door, and rapidly ushered me into the room, where I immediately fell into his arms. We hugged, he felt my ass up and down, then hurriedly undressed. He took my hand and walked me to the bed. I sat on the edge of the bed, then, caressed his growing cock in my had before putting it into my eagerly waiting mouth. I thought Brad was going to faint. I’ve seldom seen anyone so excited. He came right away, then apologized for doing so. I reassured him, telling him we had lots of time.
As we lay on the bed, I cupped his balls in my hand, and in due course, his cock began to come to life again. This time I went down on him more carefully, and gently licked and caressed its full length with my mouth, lips and tongue. As he became hard, I could tell he was ready, and so applied the lube I had strategically placed near by. I then slipped into position beneath him. He seemed so grateful, and almost disbelieving. As we began to fuck, he relaxed, and got into a nice, sweet rhythm. As most men, he occasionally addressed the deities of his choice, presumably in expression of gratitude for his good fortune.
The upside of his having cum so soon when I sucked his cock was that he was now able to hold his erection for some time, which pleased both of us. We fucked away, just enjoying the primal lust, untainted by any other concerns. I wasn’t going to get pregnant, I wasn’t going to interfere with his marriage, and he wasn’t going to be looking for romance or undying commitments from me. After twenty or more minutes, he eventually came with great ardor, attended by an increase in the velocity and force of his thrusts. We just lay there for some time, after which Brad asked me if this was a one-time thing, or could he see me again. I said sure he could, what did he have in mind?
“Well, how about tomorrow?”
“What, tomorrow? So soon?”
“”Why not?”
“Well, I don’t know, it just seems a bit much. After all, this is only our first time together.”
“But didn’t you enjoy it?”
“Of course, but....”
“What I we hoping for was something regular, you know, friends with benefits? Lot’s of them!”
“I see! And just how often were you hoping to see me?”
“Well, actually, every day.”
“Every day!! Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am. I mean, I have a strong sex drive, and no sexual outlet, ‘til now, anyway, and since we both like what we’re doing, I just figured....”
“Yes, I know, but very day? How would that even be possible?
“It’s fairly simple, really, we could meet at lunch time and....”
“Wait a minute! I work. How would we meet at lunchtime? We wouldn’t have time to come here, and your place is out, and by the time we went to my place and back again we’d have no time to do anything.”
“How about in my truck?”
“What do you mean?”
“I could park near where you work, and we could have sex in the back of the truck. I always wanted to do that anyway.”
“That’s crazy!”
“Not really.”
“But I don’t go to work dressed in these clothes, so how....”
“Easy. Wear your stockings and garter belt or just stockings under your regular clothes, then just bring your wig to work. You can put it on in the truck, then just take off your street clothes, and you’d be ready.”
“This is nuts!”
“Yeah, maybe; but it would be a lot of fun!”
“I don’t know. I mean, yes, it sounds wild and all, but....”
“Why not give it a try? If you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again, right?”
“I suppose, it’s just....”
“I know, I know, it sounds weird, but what do you say? What have you got to lose?”
‘Well, lunch for one thing! When will I get to eat lunch?”
“I’m sure you can figure out something.”
“True. Well, I suppose it’s worth a try. But every day? I just never did it that much before.”
“You might like it.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m already getting to be more sexually active than I have ever been before.”
“Is that necessarily a bad thing? I mean, do you regret it, or dislike it?”
“No, I don’t, neither. Okay, so I’ll try it. But I’m not promising anything.”
“Okay, that’s fine, just give it a chance, see how it works. It’s new for me too you know.”
“Right. Christ! I don’t believe this!”
“So, tomorrow then?”
“Okay, yes. I’ll give you my work address.”
“Great! I’m sure it will be fun!”
“Hmmm. Maybe. Hope so. Not much point to it if it isn’t.”
Brad looked at the clock, and realized we’d better start getting ready to leave, so he wouldn’t be too late getting home. We got up, got dressed, and walked to then entered the elevator. We said nothing on the short ride down, and as we exited the elevator, he put his arm around me as we moved in the direction of his parked car.
On the way back to my place, I sat with my legs curled up, and snuggled against Brad with my hand on his leg. We arrived at my place too soon, and said our good-nights. As I entered my apartment, I wondered just what I was committing to. This was more demanding than I had anticipated, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be that over scheduled. Still, I could always stop, and besides, it was only during work hours; I still had my free time free. I decided I would go ahead with this, at least on an experimental basis. Nonetheless, it still sounded nuts, but a bit naughty and sexy as well.
The next day I remembered to dress as I had agreed, and to bring my wig to work. At the appointed hour, I went outside and looked for him. Sure enough, there was the FedEX truck parked innocently along the sidewalk near an apartment building. The back door was open, so I looked around, then hurriedly got in. As soon as I did so, I took off my outer layers of street clothes, donned the wig, and called out to Brad.
He quickly appeared, and closed the door. I was surprised that there was so much light available, but then there are glass windows of a sort in the roof of the truck. Makes sense, as the drivers need to be able to see the packages they have to deliver. Anyway, there was not much room, but I was able to sit on top of some boxes while Brad wordlessly undressed.
He unceremoniously shoved his thick cock into my mouth. While this is always fun for me, I felt like a cheap whore turning a trick; he could have said something nice. Anyway, I could tell he was just eager to fuck, so as soon as he got hard he had me bend over a pile of boxes and, using some lubricant he fortunately remembered to include, he inserted his cock. Without any attempts at pleasuring me, he just pumped away rapidly, the warmth from the friction being the only thing that aroused my ardor. I was surprised that I was turned on at all, but being fucked like a rag doll was something new, and strangely exciting, albeit it seedy and sleazy. Maybe it was precisely the tawdriness of it all that appealed to me on some level.
Brad merely increased the pace of his thrusts, making me feel like a used fuck toy. After a while, he suddenly pulled out and, spinning me around, pushed me down into a sitting position, simultaneously inserting his cock into my mouth, which he then proceeded to fuck like he did my now burning ass. The cum then spurted so hard it leaked out of the sides of my mouth, while I gulped down as much as I could. I always enjoy the taste and feel of warm cum, but there was something so slutty about this scene, I came from that, rather than the fucking I received.
As soon as Brad was finished, we collapsed onto a heap of clothes and cardboard boxes.
“What the fuck?”, I asked.
“I like it a little rough.”
“So I see.”
“How about you?”
“Not sure. I mean, while it was different, and sorta hot and exciting, it was also somewhat demeaning, brutal, sleazy--all that.”
“But still, you came without even being touched, so you must have been turned on.”
“I know. But then that happens to me sometime anyway. It’s just that I’m not used to being made to feel like an object or a prostitute.”
“So you never put out for money?”
“No way!”
“Does that mean you wouldn’t?”
“I can’t deny fantasizing occasionally, wondering what the experience would be like, but that’s different from actually wanting to, or being willing to.”
“This is probably pretty close then, servicing a man the way you did--the way you agreed to do daily.”
“I suppose so. I cannot be sure I will continue, but I will go through with it for now at least.”
“So we’re still on for tomorrow then?”
“Yes, we are. I don’t know how I can just go back to work like nothing special happened though!”
“But the fact that you have a secret sex life has got to be exciting, isn’t it?”
“Yes, exciting, but distracting; also a little worrisome.”
“How so?”
“It’s just that so many changes have occurred so quickly. In the space of just a few weeks, I have had more sex with more and different partners than in the last two years combined. It takes a bit of getting used to.”
“I can see that. Well, I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Same here. Same time same place tomorrow?”
“Right. Or at least nearby.”
“Okay, see you then.”
I exited the truck while stuffing my wig in the bag I brought it in, and hurried to the rest rooms so I could freshen up before returning to work. It all seemed unreal somehow. It happened so fast, and all of a sudden I was thrust back into ‘reality’.
So okay, I acted the whore and loved it. Great. Another milestone, if it was that. The rest of the afternoon was uneventful compared to my ‘lunch’ hour. Fortunately I was by now in no mood to eat anything, but I wolfed down an energy bar or two later on.
When I arrived home I called Tom and related the incident in detail. He sounded supportive as usual, and did his best to allay my concerns. I told him that I enjoyed it, but was not completely comfortable with that fact. He attributed my reaction to my usual pattern of anxiety in response to any novel experience. I had to agree, but this did nothing to diminish my discomfort. After we hung up I fixed myself something to eat then went to bed early.
Hester
- 13.10.2021
- 28
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- Category:
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