Secrets and BetrayalsPart 2 His Betrayal Alicia s Story
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my blouse torn, breasts hanging out, Jorge’s spit running down my face, and my pussy filled with his cum. I was crying, but also wet. What was happening to me? Who was I becoming? Why would Mr. Thompson let that happen? Didn’t he love me?
I heard a bang on the door, and drunken slurs. Someone wanted in. “Give me a minute!” I shouted.
I washed my face and straightened my hair. I opened the bag and found makeup and a dress. I touched up my makeup and pulled out the dress. It was black, short, with lace across the chest, and a v-back. I was shocked. It was both beautiful and slutty, but how could I wear this in the day time?
I had no choice though. Jorge had torn my blouse open and ripped the buttons, and I realized his filthy cum was now staining my skirt.
I got dressed, and in any other place would have felt beautiful and confident. But in this scuzzy filthy gas station bathroom I felt like nothing more than a cheap used whore. I wanted to cry, but then I heard more banging. It was Jorge. “Puta, hurry up. You’ll be late for your plane.” I took a deep breath and walked outside into the sunshine.
I walked with Jorge to the car and he opened the door for me, a gentlemanly gesture for someone who had just treated me like a “puta”.
Mr. Thompson was on the phone. “Yes, yes, I will call you tonight when I’m in town. We will get together and finalize things. Ok talk soon...” He hung up and turned to me “My god do you look amazing”. He leaned in and kissed me, deep, with passion. “I hope Jorge wasn’t too rough with you?” I wanted to tell Jim that Jorge was monster and that I hated him and Jorge and to drop me off at home. But how would I explain this dress to my parents? I choked back my tears.
“He was a perfect gentleman” I lied. Jorge smiled at me from the driver seat.
“That’s good to hear. He’s been my driver for a very long time and told me you were the best fuck he’s ever had.” I blushed, ashamed, but he took it as me being proud.
We drove to the airport and I became nervous. “Mr. Thompson, what if someone sees me like this?”
“It’s an airport sweetie, LOTS of people are going to see you like this...” I began to get tears in my eyes “...but no one you will know. We are flying first class. We’ll be taken to a separate line, and we will board last. Your family doesn’t know enough rich people like me to bump into someone you know.” He patted my knee to reassure me. It was during gentle moments like this that I felt as if he might love me, and I might love him. His big fingers were so warm, soft even. I found myself wishing they were on other parts of me.
When we arrived people immediately began to stare. I hoped they thought I was his daughter. Some probably thought I was his gold digging girlfriend. And yet others I’m sure thought I was a prostitute, a high paid one.
I felt ashamed, embarrassed, but also turned on. Mr. Thompson could have brought his wife, or even bought a prostitute, but he chose to bring me with him on this trip. I had never been on a plane before, and first class was amazing. The seats were so large, and we got free champagne.
Just before take off Mr. Thompson leaned in and whispered in my ear, “You look absolutely gorgeous sweetheart. My cock is rock hard. When we get to the hotel I am going to fuck your brains out.” I looked at him, I was so stunned and turned on, that I leaned in, grabbed the back of his head, and shoved my tongue as deep in his mouth as it would go. I felt his cock harden in his pants. When I let go I noticed an old woman in the row next to us looking disgusted, while a younger man behind her was very turned on.
“If people weren’t watching I would climb on top of your big cock right now Mr. Thompson and fuck you so hard you would never go home.” We kissed again. I rubbed his cock through his pants until he told me to stop.
“Sweetie, I’m not 16, I don’t want your hands” he said as he winked.
The rest of the flight I felt like I was sitting in a puddle of my own juices as we kissed and teased each other. I wanted this fat old man so badly, I couldn’t believe it. And apparently neither could anyone else on board as everyone stared and watched, which only made me hornier.
We took a cab from the airport to the hotel. The driver was an older black man who was quite obese, probably 350 pounds, I couldn’t help but notice that he kept checking me out in the rear view mirror, and so did Mr. Thompson. “Show him your tits slut.” I looked at Mr. Thompson. He kissed me, to calm me, as I pulled down my dress and bra. I could see the driver staring so much he almost his another car.
“When we get to the hotel I want you to take him upstairs. Understand?” I looked at Mr. Thompson again.
“Why?” I whispered? “Don’t you want me?” Why was he doing this?
“I do sweetie. But a man my age has learned a few things...” He continued to whisper “Like I can only fuck so many times in a day with a sexy little slut like you...” he slid my panties aside, which I know the driver could see, and slid a thick finger inside my dripping wet “and that watching a perfect slut like you fuck is the closest sexiest thing to fucking you myself. And sluts like you...” his finger felt so good I began to moan, loudly “...are meant to be shared.”
I was so wet and horny I grabbed the back of his head and kissed him se deeply. His finger was so thick and deep I was riding it like a whore, which only made him and me hotter, and the driver more distracted. I began to Buck and shudder on his finger as I came, screaming. I smiled embarrassed at the driver.
When we arrived at the hotel Mr. Thompson gave the driver $50 to bring our bags up to the room while he finished checking us in. The driver and I took the elevator up to the 30th floor, a giant suite. He was slow and sweaty and never took his eyes off me. I stood close to him in the elevator, even though we were alone, hoping he was looking down my dress. In the room I asked him to put the bags in the bedroom. I noticed he was wearing a wedding ring. “What is your wife’s name?”
“Cynthia. Why?”
“Because I hope Cynthia doesn’t mind that you’re going to fuck a little white girl”. I then dropped my dress to the floor, standing there in heels, panties and my bra. I walked over to him and leaned over his large belly to give him a kiss on the lips.
I undid his belt, feeling his tongue flicking in my mouth. His hands were all over my back unclasping my bra. I dropped to my knees and had to search under his huge gut for his cock, although it was huge, at least 9” long and thick. I had never seen a cock so big.
I began to lick it like a lollipop, something I had seen in a movie once. He already had precum leaking from the massive head of his cock. I wasn’t sure it would even fit in my mouth.
“Ever fucked a white girl before?” I asked in between licks?
“I have, but none as sexy as you” he moaned out.
I stood up and laid on the bed, my head hanging over the edge, my mouth wide open. “Has Cynthia ever let you do this?” I asked with a giggle.
“Never...” The rest was muffled as his belly rested on my chin and face while his huge thick cock slipped past my lips, with some force, making the corners of my mouth and jaw sore. He began to pump his cock in and out of my mouth, choking me with its size. I had trouble breathing but was so turned on. I began to touch my pussy. The drivers hands began to rip my bra as he pawed at my breasts.
Suddenly the driver stopped and he pulled his cock from my mouth. I was reaching for it with my lips, my face a mess, my hand down my panties, when I heard and saw Mr. Thompson in the bedroom doorway.
“$50 wasn’t enough of a tip?” He said jokingly. The driver was worried. “It’s all right. I told her to. Well, actually, I told her to fuck your brains out. Don’t let me get in the way.”
With that I took the drivers cock in my hand and said “I want your big cock inside me. Now!”
He was so eager he laid on the bed while I climbed on top of him. His cock was so big it took me a while to slide him all the way in. I had my hands on his chest for balance, riding up and down, feeling him push back against me. I was screaming when I felt a second set of hands on my back. I turned to see Mr. Thompson, naked.
Mr. Thompson grabbed my hair and shoved his cock into my throat. It was rock hard and actually hit the back of my throat making me gag. The gagging made my body, including my pussy, tense up around his cock. This made him thrust even harder, and forced Mr.
Thompson’s cock down my throat even harder. The two cocks, these two old fat men, sweaty from exertion and excitement, soon found a rhythm and used my holes. I was so wet and horny that when I felt the driver cumming inside me I began to shake and shudder and scream into Mr. Thompson’s cock, making him cum down my throat.
Mr. Thompson’s cock slipped out of my lips, though I tried to keep it in, and I collapsed onto the drivers heaving chest and stomach. I wrapped my arms around him, kissed his lips, and asked if he was sure he wanted to go back to Cynthia, before falling asleep between the two hulking men.
I woke up later, alone in the bed, naked, and feeling amazing and reenergized. The curtains had been pulled so I turned on a lamp and was shocked to see a woman sitting in a chair by the bed. She was in her 40’s, blonde, and looked like she could have once been a movie star. She was tan, with beautiful red lips, perfect round double d breasts, fit like she went to the gym each morning, and wearing a black deep v-neck dress and white heels.
“So, you’re the whore my husband has been fucking?” I was stunned. I tried to cover up as she stood up and grabbed me by the throat. “We need to talk slut.”
To be continued...
I heard a bang on the door, and drunken slurs. Someone wanted in. “Give me a minute!” I shouted.
I washed my face and straightened my hair. I opened the bag and found makeup and a dress. I touched up my makeup and pulled out the dress. It was black, short, with lace across the chest, and a v-back. I was shocked. It was both beautiful and slutty, but how could I wear this in the day time?
I had no choice though. Jorge had torn my blouse open and ripped the buttons, and I realized his filthy cum was now staining my skirt.
I got dressed, and in any other place would have felt beautiful and confident. But in this scuzzy filthy gas station bathroom I felt like nothing more than a cheap used whore. I wanted to cry, but then I heard more banging. It was Jorge. “Puta, hurry up. You’ll be late for your plane.” I took a deep breath and walked outside into the sunshine.
I walked with Jorge to the car and he opened the door for me, a gentlemanly gesture for someone who had just treated me like a “puta”.
Mr. Thompson was on the phone. “Yes, yes, I will call you tonight when I’m in town. We will get together and finalize things. Ok talk soon...” He hung up and turned to me “My god do you look amazing”. He leaned in and kissed me, deep, with passion. “I hope Jorge wasn’t too rough with you?” I wanted to tell Jim that Jorge was monster and that I hated him and Jorge and to drop me off at home. But how would I explain this dress to my parents? I choked back my tears.
“He was a perfect gentleman” I lied. Jorge smiled at me from the driver seat.
“That’s good to hear. He’s been my driver for a very long time and told me you were the best fuck he’s ever had.” I blushed, ashamed, but he took it as me being proud.
We drove to the airport and I became nervous. “Mr. Thompson, what if someone sees me like this?”
“It’s an airport sweetie, LOTS of people are going to see you like this...” I began to get tears in my eyes “...but no one you will know. We are flying first class. We’ll be taken to a separate line, and we will board last. Your family doesn’t know enough rich people like me to bump into someone you know.” He patted my knee to reassure me. It was during gentle moments like this that I felt as if he might love me, and I might love him. His big fingers were so warm, soft even. I found myself wishing they were on other parts of me.
When we arrived people immediately began to stare. I hoped they thought I was his daughter. Some probably thought I was his gold digging girlfriend. And yet others I’m sure thought I was a prostitute, a high paid one.
I felt ashamed, embarrassed, but also turned on. Mr. Thompson could have brought his wife, or even bought a prostitute, but he chose to bring me with him on this trip. I had never been on a plane before, and first class was amazing. The seats were so large, and we got free champagne.
Just before take off Mr. Thompson leaned in and whispered in my ear, “You look absolutely gorgeous sweetheart. My cock is rock hard. When we get to the hotel I am going to fuck your brains out.” I looked at him, I was so stunned and turned on, that I leaned in, grabbed the back of his head, and shoved my tongue as deep in his mouth as it would go. I felt his cock harden in his pants. When I let go I noticed an old woman in the row next to us looking disgusted, while a younger man behind her was very turned on.
“If people weren’t watching I would climb on top of your big cock right now Mr. Thompson and fuck you so hard you would never go home.” We kissed again. I rubbed his cock through his pants until he told me to stop.
“Sweetie, I’m not 16, I don’t want your hands” he said as he winked.
The rest of the flight I felt like I was sitting in a puddle of my own juices as we kissed and teased each other. I wanted this fat old man so badly, I couldn’t believe it. And apparently neither could anyone else on board as everyone stared and watched, which only made me hornier.
We took a cab from the airport to the hotel. The driver was an older black man who was quite obese, probably 350 pounds, I couldn’t help but notice that he kept checking me out in the rear view mirror, and so did Mr. Thompson. “Show him your tits slut.” I looked at Mr. Thompson. He kissed me, to calm me, as I pulled down my dress and bra. I could see the driver staring so much he almost his another car.
“When we get to the hotel I want you to take him upstairs. Understand?” I looked at Mr. Thompson again.
“Why?” I whispered? “Don’t you want me?” Why was he doing this?
“I do sweetie. But a man my age has learned a few things...” He continued to whisper “Like I can only fuck so many times in a day with a sexy little slut like you...” he slid my panties aside, which I know the driver could see, and slid a thick finger inside my dripping wet “and that watching a perfect slut like you fuck is the closest sexiest thing to fucking you myself. And sluts like you...” his finger felt so good I began to moan, loudly “...are meant to be shared.”
I was so wet and horny I grabbed the back of his head and kissed him se deeply. His finger was so thick and deep I was riding it like a whore, which only made him and me hotter, and the driver more distracted. I began to Buck and shudder on his finger as I came, screaming. I smiled embarrassed at the driver.
When we arrived at the hotel Mr. Thompson gave the driver $50 to bring our bags up to the room while he finished checking us in. The driver and I took the elevator up to the 30th floor, a giant suite. He was slow and sweaty and never took his eyes off me. I stood close to him in the elevator, even though we were alone, hoping he was looking down my dress. In the room I asked him to put the bags in the bedroom. I noticed he was wearing a wedding ring. “What is your wife’s name?”
“Cynthia. Why?”
“Because I hope Cynthia doesn’t mind that you’re going to fuck a little white girl”. I then dropped my dress to the floor, standing there in heels, panties and my bra. I walked over to him and leaned over his large belly to give him a kiss on the lips.
I undid his belt, feeling his tongue flicking in my mouth. His hands were all over my back unclasping my bra. I dropped to my knees and had to search under his huge gut for his cock, although it was huge, at least 9” long and thick. I had never seen a cock so big.
I began to lick it like a lollipop, something I had seen in a movie once. He already had precum leaking from the massive head of his cock. I wasn’t sure it would even fit in my mouth.
“Ever fucked a white girl before?” I asked in between licks?
“I have, but none as sexy as you” he moaned out.
I stood up and laid on the bed, my head hanging over the edge, my mouth wide open. “Has Cynthia ever let you do this?” I asked with a giggle.
“Never...” The rest was muffled as his belly rested on my chin and face while his huge thick cock slipped past my lips, with some force, making the corners of my mouth and jaw sore. He began to pump his cock in and out of my mouth, choking me with its size. I had trouble breathing but was so turned on. I began to touch my pussy. The drivers hands began to rip my bra as he pawed at my breasts.
Suddenly the driver stopped and he pulled his cock from my mouth. I was reaching for it with my lips, my face a mess, my hand down my panties, when I heard and saw Mr. Thompson in the bedroom doorway.
“$50 wasn’t enough of a tip?” He said jokingly. The driver was worried. “It’s all right. I told her to. Well, actually, I told her to fuck your brains out. Don’t let me get in the way.”
With that I took the drivers cock in my hand and said “I want your big cock inside me. Now!”
He was so eager he laid on the bed while I climbed on top of him. His cock was so big it took me a while to slide him all the way in. I had my hands on his chest for balance, riding up and down, feeling him push back against me. I was screaming when I felt a second set of hands on my back. I turned to see Mr. Thompson, naked.
Mr. Thompson grabbed my hair and shoved his cock into my throat. It was rock hard and actually hit the back of my throat making me gag. The gagging made my body, including my pussy, tense up around his cock. This made him thrust even harder, and forced Mr.
Thompson’s cock down my throat even harder. The two cocks, these two old fat men, sweaty from exertion and excitement, soon found a rhythm and used my holes. I was so wet and horny that when I felt the driver cumming inside me I began to shake and shudder and scream into Mr. Thompson’s cock, making him cum down my throat.
Mr. Thompson’s cock slipped out of my lips, though I tried to keep it in, and I collapsed onto the drivers heaving chest and stomach. I wrapped my arms around him, kissed his lips, and asked if he was sure he wanted to go back to Cynthia, before falling asleep between the two hulking men.
I woke up later, alone in the bed, naked, and feeling amazing and reenergized. The curtains had been pulled so I turned on a lamp and was shocked to see a woman sitting in a chair by the bed. She was in her 40’s, blonde, and looked like she could have once been a movie star. She was tan, with beautiful red lips, perfect round double d breasts, fit like she went to the gym each morning, and wearing a black deep v-neck dress and white heels.
“So, you’re the whore my husband has been fucking?” I was stunned. I tried to cover up as she stood up and grabbed me by the throat. “We need to talk slut.”
To be continued...
Dani
- 26.01.2022
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