Cynthia Palmer s New Life
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Cynthia In Black free porn video
Cynthia in Black
Drinks on me Friday night down at The Saltwater Tearoom. The lads whooped and cheered as we passed the second round for the night. Hell was this a way to blow off some steam if ever I had any. But things were well. My recent promotion down at the plant meant that I could afford occasional luxuries such as this.
Somehow despite watching Ben chug an entire flute of beer and James wear a whole stack of napkins as origami hats, I was bored. Not bored from a lack of entertainment, which was plentiful, but bored with life's offerings. I had a promotion. I was with my best friends at an albeit low end establishment. But somehow I had the suspicion, sat at the bar taking a moment to myself, that I wanted something else.
By that, I mean I was looking at the pretty dame across the floor.
She was only an okay looker and most of the skinheads were eyeing up the petit blonde two tables from her. Besides, her table was full up with a group of hard looking men covered in studs, leather and tattoos. Oddly none of them seemed to be going for her. There even seemed to be an air of obedience towards her about them.
But I liked the ways she looked. Darkened purple hair shaved all down the side. Thick black mascara and lipstick. A subtle silver piercing just below her lip. She was really doing it for me. But I wasn't nearly drunk enough to approach her. It wasn't even her group of rough looking friends, they seemed friendly enough in the way they smiled and laughed with each other. It was the lass herself, she looked intimidating as fuck.
"Hey Andy!' Ben emerged from the crowd to clap me drunkenly on the back, "Quit, *blurp*, staring at the walls n' shit and come back over! We're missing you! We're both out here for you mate! It's your, *blurp*, promotion!"
Before I sc****d myself off the bar stool and returned to sweet oblivion, I saw the lady pick her things up and leave with her men.
"Who want's shots!" I boomed when I got back.
After all the glasses were empty and back on the tray, we sat and chatted away. In the company of good friends, I soon forgot about my dissatisfaction with life. Some guy got up on the stage and speakers hissed as he announced.
"And now! Ladies and gentlemen! It is time for our headline act for tonight," he stepped aside and gestured towards the curtains, "Give it up for Cynthia and The Black Flags!"
As the curtains raised I saw her and the again. It was the hot lass from before. It looks like she had the chance to change clothes since I last saw her. I'm not sure if anyone saw, but I drooled just a tiny bit. Skin tight from head to toe, she was dressed in shiny pitch black. The jumpsuit stretched from her shoulders to her ankles, a deep-v and no sleeves, made of some material I'd never seen made into clothing before with white streaks in the shape of a skull and crossbones.
The presenter handed the mic over. "Alright bitches!" she shouted excitedly, "I'm Cynthia, this is my band, The Black Flags. Now who likes getting pissed and listening to music!?" The crowd cheered in reply. Her enthusiasm was infectious. "Then let's get smashed and turn deaf!"
"Hey," James nudged me, "she's hot." The Black Flags started to play.
Watching Cynthia play was an unexpected high for the night. She was rocking away, grinding and gyrating up against the mic stand while singing the filthiest lines. I couldn't be the only one who found her energy arousing. And I don't think I was. Breaking from my daze of staring at Cynthia's latex wrapped legs doing high-kicks, I saw many men and quite a few women with eyes locked on the stage. After four or five songs there was a brief intermission.
"Did you see her legs!" Ben waved his hands wildly in the air.
"She was riding that mic stand like a pole," James commented, eye's wide.
They turned to me expecting comment. I straightened my back, raised my head and declared, "I'm gonna chat her up."
"Fuck off Andy." Ben dropped his hands on the table. "Did you see her? She's not interested in nubs like us."
"Yeah, I agree," James frowned, "She's wild. You can't tame that cat mate."
"Why not?" As much as my confidence came from dutch courage, I just wanted to meet Cynthia; she was hot. What kind of person could she be? Ben and James seemed to think she wasn't a person at all, but an a****l. "She's no cat. But I wanna see if she purrs."
"Nah mate," James shook his head, "she's a tigress. She'll rip a new one out of a little kitten like you."
"She'll roast you." Ben seemed to think I was an idiot.
About to rebut, I raised a finger. Not helping in any way, Cynthia had returned to the stage with a shot of vodka. She poured it into her mouth, held it in her cheeks, lit a match behind her back, and then proceeded to spit a stream of flaming alcohol. A few people screeched in fright. Others raised their arms and cheered.
"Alright assholes." She calmly wiped some spirit from her chin. "Break's over." And she came in close to the mic and grumbled, "You better be ready for me."
The night went on and I was impatiently tapping my foot against the wooden floor, waiting for the show to end before I tested my luck. Ben and James went on laughing about how screwed I'd be if I spoke to her. I ignored them. I was going to see how far I could take it with her. Whether I slept with her tonight or whether she spat fire in my face, I was going to find out.
When the band was done, the curtains raised and they left and back stage. I watched intently. Ben and James were busy talking. Soon Cynthia came back around, dressed in jacket and jeans again. She headed for the bar. I could see a few people shuffling their feet and drinking courage pints nearby. A few men came in close and I saw them mouth something like 'hey babe'. She would shout something angrily at them and they would leave, looking shocked and pained.
I waited before I made my move, hyping myself up for the apparent force of her rejection and preparing to march through the herd of nervous admirers around her. There weren't this many people gathering around her before she sang. The petit blonde was looking lonely in the corner now. I stood and walked. James reached for my shoulder to stop me but missed. Ben could only watch.
"Hi," I said, "I'm Andy."
Cynthia looked at me, bemused. I could almost hear Ben and James saying 'I told you so'.
But then she smiled. "Hello Andy." She grabbed me by the collar and forced me down onto a chair. "So suckerfish, what have you come over here for? And yes, there are wrong ways to answer that."
I had to think hard about this one. I'd only had a few tonight, but it took all my effort to answer her truthfully and interestingly. It was no use lying, and I didn't think 'I just wanted to talk' would cut it. From the sounds of it, it seemed like I only had once chance too.
"You look like you enjoy kicking ass and my friends are too scared to talk to you," I eventually managed to say. I think that did it; she stopped scowling at me and appeared amused even.
"Who are your friends?" I pointed towards Ben and James, who seeing what I was doing, tried to duck and pretend like they weren't watching. "Nice," she chuckled.
"They're scared you'll burn me alive."
"Oh darling," her eyes suggested a playful mood, "Don't think I won't." She took a sip of her drink and swallowed, mimicked in the air the lighting of a match and blew a stream of boozy breathe into my face while making whooshing noises with her mouth.
We both laughed together. "Oh no, it burns. We're going to need plenty of fluids to put that out. Bartender!"
We sat together for what felt like hours. The talk was endless. We talked about everything. She asked me what I was doing at the bar so I told her about my promotion. She called me a "big-shot" and I snickered. I asked her about music and she told me about her career. I said I liked her outfit on stage, and she said she was really into wearing latex.
I told her I thought that was really hot.
She told me she wanted to fuck me.
"Wait... What?" I was nervous for the first time in our conversation.
"I..."
"Yes?"
"Want..."
"Yeah, I got that part."
"To... bang-with-you-all-night," she spelt it out pretty plainly, "Is that okay?"
"Yeah... Yes..." I wasn't expecting this tonight. "It's just... I didn't think you would put out to me."
She put her forehead in her hands and laughed. "Darling, you know the whole ass kicking thing is just part of the act right? You think I'd ever get laid if I brushed off //every// guy like that. I do that so all the dweebs who just want a piece of my ass think twice before talking. But you're a cute dweeb. Now, I know a motel near here. Are you in?"
Cynthia was hot, that was no doubt. So I nodded, still shocked she even felt she needed to ask.
"Sweet," she said. She seized my hand and walked me off. "Bye fellas!" she waved goodbye to her band.
On the way out she grabbed someones shot glass off their table and prepared a lighter. Purposely taking the long way around, we walked pass Ben and James. The look on their faces when she puffed a little flame ball in their direction was priceless.
"See ya, lads," I waved.
From The Saltwater Tearoom to the Diggers's Retreat motel, I'd taken the tram to the bar so we rode in Cynthia's rusted old ute. Windows down and stereo blearing some ancient mixtape, Cynthia, being more sober, rode shotgun. Every time we hit a red light, she pulled the hand break and leant over the gear stick in a mess of seat belts and clutter, to lay hasty kisses and gropes until someone beeped at us to go. She would speed away, burning the tyres a bit each time, eager to find the next opportunity to play with me. We hardly even made it half way before she lost her patience and we had to pull over.
On a the side of a maintenance road next to the freeway, Cynthia came around passenger side to barge open the door and tongue at my mouth. In a hot flurry of hands and lips, I could feel her reach around me to unbuckle my pants, top shirt button and then seat belt. Grabbing the collar of my shirt, she dragged me out of the car, almost throwing me into the gound. Every movement she made seemed hungry for sex.
We rolled around in embrace in open view of the passing traffic. Some trucks and cars beeped at us and there were a few wolf whistles from passers by. Neither me or Cynthia cared though. I know I was far too horny to bother about privacy, torso and crotch pressed hard against hers through loosely undone pants. I could've done her in the dirt right there, fuck privacy. And I don't think she cared to begin with.
"Get in the tray," she said.
"Hmm?" I moaned through her soft lips.
"Get in." She pulled away from me and high kicked her leg over into the tray of her ute. Clumsily toppling in, with hair on her face, she peeked over the ledge and gestured me in with one finger. I clambered in after her and reunited our bodies, kissing her neck.
Limbs tangled in the back tray of Cynthia's ute with the clutter of dirty tools and instruments, we dry humped each other under the sodium glow of street side lamps.
"Watch out," she said and shifted a rusty saw before I cut my ass open on it.
"Thanks." I gasped for air before diving back.
I reached for her rear and she reached under my shirt. I began to feel up her chest and she shoved her hand down the front of my open pants. I kissed and embraced, tasting the sting of hard spirits still left on her teeth. She was rubbing her hands up and down, not stroking, but just caressing, letting the friction do the work. The night was freezing cold, but the heat coming off her body was intense. Fog lifted from both our mouths whenever we broke for air between frantic kisses, rolling lazily over our horny selves.
I moaned. "Cynthia! I'm going to cum!"
"What?" I think she heard me.
"I'm gonna cum," I groaned again through clenched teeth.
"Fuck." She withdrew her hand from my ball sack suddenly.
"Huh?" I groaned painfully. Aching for her attention, I wished she would touch me some more.
"C'mon, let's go to the motel," she clapped me on the shoulder and got up. My balls were so heavy and blue that I could hardly leave the tray. "C'mon!" Cynthia was already in the drivers seat and was hissing through the back window before I could clamber back out and get in.
She turned the stereo off. The remainder of the journey was spent in near silence, with only the hum of the road and Cynthia cutting in occasionally to tell me dirty things.
"When we get there," she paused to check the rear view, "I'm gonna fucking slide you up me so deep that you'll feel your gut turn. Got it?"
I could only grunt in reply, wishing I had an ice pack for my testicles.
We made a stop around the side of a corner servo and bought lube and a pack of condoms, running back to the car laughing giddily. The shop keeper looked either disgusted or jealous. We were both too excited to tell. While she was busy rushing for the hygiene section, I also bought a bottle of refrigerated soda to hold against my balls on the ride to the motel.
"Awww yeah. Fuck. That does it." I moaned, pushing the can hard against my crotch to cool my almost bursting blue balls.
Cynthia found this hilarious. "Hey you," she giggled, "Don't get that too warm. You might be thirsty after I'm done with you."
Finally we arrived at the motel. 'The Digger's Retreat', a shabby place, but it looked clean enough for our purposes. We booked a room, I shouted the money, and we sprinted off to the numbered door. When we got there I was ripping clothes off my body. Cynthia ran directly for the bed and dived right in, curling up the sheets as she pulled off her jeans.
I tossed the paper bag of lube and condoms on to the bed beside her and finished stripping down. She finished undressing before me and so she emptied the contents of the bag beside her. Trying to open the first condom, she accidentally ripped it in half with her teeth and then tore it viciously into three more pieces in frustration. If she hadn't taken issue to the first rubber then I wouldn't have had time to be naked and ready for her by the time the second was safely unwrapped.
She grabbed me by the balls with one hand, wrapping her fingers tightly in a firm loop around my scrotum, pulling down just hard enough that it did't feel entirely bad. Angrily she rolled the condom on with the other, grabbing my head and pushing down roughly with nearly brutal grip. I tried to climb over her, brushing my hands against her chest and leaning in for a kiss. But I was caught by a hard palm against the shoulder, knocking me back down, throwing me against the mattress. She had other ideas.
"No!" she snapped cutely, "I wanna go on top."
I had no complaints. So I laid back and spread myself out over the mattress. Cynthia was beautiful, bare to the skin. Her breasts were small, round and plump. Her bum on her knees, sat in between my legs. Darkened purple hair shaved all down the side. Her vagina looked soft and wet. She had a series of previously hidden tattoos all up and down the side of her torso, sneaking around her shoulders and tickling her thighs; leopard prints, dragons and mice from what I could see.
She stared at me lustily, unmoving, with piercing hazel-brown eyes, savouring the moment for herself. In one fluid motion, she set upon me, sliding me deep into the heat of her body and thrashing her lips against mine. Seized by instinct, I instantly wrapped myself around her and thrusted my hips into her. Her body was hot to the touch, hotter than when we'd pulled over on the side of the road, hotter than a burning fire. Kissing her neck, I could taste the scent of newly forming sweat on her skin.
"Mmm." Cynthia locked an arm around my neck and tugged threateningly at my hair. "You better make this good." She gazed deep into my soul, demanding that I satiate her desire.
I nodded dumbly, hoping I could comply. As lovely as she was, I was scared she might kick my ass if I failed her. She just had a knack for scaring people.
She bounced her hips, just like she did with that mic stand just earlier tonight.
I wriggled beneath her.
She grabbed me by the wrists and sucked my face.
I moaned for her.
She fucked me faster and faster until I was almost whimpering.
I tried to convulse, but she was still gripping my wrists and pushing me hard down onto the bed.
Cute little squeaks of sporadic pleasure pierced my lips. I don't think a woman like Cynthia had ever pushed me this hard before. She was right, I felt my very gut wrench from the searing heat she sent down the shaft of my dick and up into my spine. My spine, which she scratched with sharp nails through my back, mounting pressure in every muscle I could feel. Every whimper I gave, she sucked swallowed from my lips like liquor. She rode harder and faster, the pressure now building more tangibly only where she constricted her own hot holes against.
I came hard, howling dizzily as I felt all the juices in my body rush to the tip of my cock. I tried to tell her to stop thrusting now, but all I could manage were a few frantic cries. She pulled me out herself before it got too painful, grasping my rapidly deflating dick. I hardly had time to squeeze the last bit of cum off my foreskin into the condom before she sat up and grabbed my head by the ears, pulling my face into her crotch and letting it plant into her with a slap.
"Lick," she commanded.
I nearly yelped in surprise. I wanted to do as she said, but I'd never gone down on a woman before. I had nothing to go off of. //How am I going to do this!?// Cynthia was sexually menacing.
I stuck my tongue out. I tasted the sweat and liquid coating her pussy. She seemed to be liking what I was doing. It was tiring work, trying to keep her moaning and screeching. My tongue felt sore in my mouth. Near to the end, Cynthia began to grind against my face, like she was going to fuck my nose. I barely had time to catch a breath between her legs. I found myself on the edge of my lungs while still lapping desperately to pleasure her. She clasped her thighs around my head when she came, pinning me in place. All I could see was her nether parts pulsing as gentle hot ejaculate sprayed into my face. It smelled like Cynthia.
She loosened her legs and let me go. I fell back, gasping for oxygen. She snuggled up beside me. Looks like we both had air to catch.
"You're pretty good at that," she panted heavily, breasts and belly heaving.
"Thanks," I said, "That was my first time licking too."
She turned to me with wide eyes. I think I'd impressed.
In the morning we got up, still completely naked. I went and closed the curtain, as we'd forgotten last night, cock still out and swinging around. Cynthia found some instant coffee in the cupboard and was preparing it while wearing only her denim jeans, full breasts hanging out.
"You're really mean in bed you know that?" I said as we sat and sipped coffee, not bad for a cheap motel.
She laughed, "Yeah, you too."
"No, I mean //mean//." I was really trying to get the point across. "Like nasty."
"Yeah?" She glared at me playfully. "Am I too hardcore for you?"
"No, I *loved* it."
"Well, you did say you came to me 'cause you thought I looked like I kick ass."
"And you said that was just 'part of the act'."
"Well so was the latex, and you loved that too didn't you?"
She smiled at me. I could see it all over again. Picturing it on Cynthia's naked body and roughed up hair and faded makeup, the sexy wild lady dressed in a tight and shiny skull and cross bones. I smiled.
~story by A.Z.
}~~(#)~~~{
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Drinks on me Friday night down at The Saltwater Tearoom. The lads whooped and cheered as we passed the second round for the night. Hell was this a way to blow off some steam if ever I had any. But things were well. My recent promotion down at the plant meant that I could afford occasional luxuries such as this.
Somehow despite watching Ben chug an entire flute of beer and James wear a whole stack of napkins as origami hats, I was bored. Not bored from a lack of entertainment, which was plentiful, but bored with life's offerings. I had a promotion. I was with my best friends at an albeit low end establishment. But somehow I had the suspicion, sat at the bar taking a moment to myself, that I wanted something else.
By that, I mean I was looking at the pretty dame across the floor.
She was only an okay looker and most of the skinheads were eyeing up the petit blonde two tables from her. Besides, her table was full up with a group of hard looking men covered in studs, leather and tattoos. Oddly none of them seemed to be going for her. There even seemed to be an air of obedience towards her about them.
But I liked the ways she looked. Darkened purple hair shaved all down the side. Thick black mascara and lipstick. A subtle silver piercing just below her lip. She was really doing it for me. But I wasn't nearly drunk enough to approach her. It wasn't even her group of rough looking friends, they seemed friendly enough in the way they smiled and laughed with each other. It was the lass herself, she looked intimidating as fuck.
"Hey Andy!' Ben emerged from the crowd to clap me drunkenly on the back, "Quit, *blurp*, staring at the walls n' shit and come back over! We're missing you! We're both out here for you mate! It's your, *blurp*, promotion!"
Before I sc****d myself off the bar stool and returned to sweet oblivion, I saw the lady pick her things up and leave with her men.
"Who want's shots!" I boomed when I got back.
After all the glasses were empty and back on the tray, we sat and chatted away. In the company of good friends, I soon forgot about my dissatisfaction with life. Some guy got up on the stage and speakers hissed as he announced.
"And now! Ladies and gentlemen! It is time for our headline act for tonight," he stepped aside and gestured towards the curtains, "Give it up for Cynthia and The Black Flags!"
As the curtains raised I saw her and the again. It was the hot lass from before. It looks like she had the chance to change clothes since I last saw her. I'm not sure if anyone saw, but I drooled just a tiny bit. Skin tight from head to toe, she was dressed in shiny pitch black. The jumpsuit stretched from her shoulders to her ankles, a deep-v and no sleeves, made of some material I'd never seen made into clothing before with white streaks in the shape of a skull and crossbones.
The presenter handed the mic over. "Alright bitches!" she shouted excitedly, "I'm Cynthia, this is my band, The Black Flags. Now who likes getting pissed and listening to music!?" The crowd cheered in reply. Her enthusiasm was infectious. "Then let's get smashed and turn deaf!"
"Hey," James nudged me, "she's hot." The Black Flags started to play.
Watching Cynthia play was an unexpected high for the night. She was rocking away, grinding and gyrating up against the mic stand while singing the filthiest lines. I couldn't be the only one who found her energy arousing. And I don't think I was. Breaking from my daze of staring at Cynthia's latex wrapped legs doing high-kicks, I saw many men and quite a few women with eyes locked on the stage. After four or five songs there was a brief intermission.
"Did you see her legs!" Ben waved his hands wildly in the air.
"She was riding that mic stand like a pole," James commented, eye's wide.
They turned to me expecting comment. I straightened my back, raised my head and declared, "I'm gonna chat her up."
"Fuck off Andy." Ben dropped his hands on the table. "Did you see her? She's not interested in nubs like us."
"Yeah, I agree," James frowned, "She's wild. You can't tame that cat mate."
"Why not?" As much as my confidence came from dutch courage, I just wanted to meet Cynthia; she was hot. What kind of person could she be? Ben and James seemed to think she wasn't a person at all, but an a****l. "She's no cat. But I wanna see if she purrs."
"Nah mate," James shook his head, "she's a tigress. She'll rip a new one out of a little kitten like you."
"She'll roast you." Ben seemed to think I was an idiot.
About to rebut, I raised a finger. Not helping in any way, Cynthia had returned to the stage with a shot of vodka. She poured it into her mouth, held it in her cheeks, lit a match behind her back, and then proceeded to spit a stream of flaming alcohol. A few people screeched in fright. Others raised their arms and cheered.
"Alright assholes." She calmly wiped some spirit from her chin. "Break's over." And she came in close to the mic and grumbled, "You better be ready for me."
The night went on and I was impatiently tapping my foot against the wooden floor, waiting for the show to end before I tested my luck. Ben and James went on laughing about how screwed I'd be if I spoke to her. I ignored them. I was going to see how far I could take it with her. Whether I slept with her tonight or whether she spat fire in my face, I was going to find out.
When the band was done, the curtains raised and they left and back stage. I watched intently. Ben and James were busy talking. Soon Cynthia came back around, dressed in jacket and jeans again. She headed for the bar. I could see a few people shuffling their feet and drinking courage pints nearby. A few men came in close and I saw them mouth something like 'hey babe'. She would shout something angrily at them and they would leave, looking shocked and pained.
I waited before I made my move, hyping myself up for the apparent force of her rejection and preparing to march through the herd of nervous admirers around her. There weren't this many people gathering around her before she sang. The petit blonde was looking lonely in the corner now. I stood and walked. James reached for my shoulder to stop me but missed. Ben could only watch.
"Hi," I said, "I'm Andy."
Cynthia looked at me, bemused. I could almost hear Ben and James saying 'I told you so'.
But then she smiled. "Hello Andy." She grabbed me by the collar and forced me down onto a chair. "So suckerfish, what have you come over here for? And yes, there are wrong ways to answer that."
I had to think hard about this one. I'd only had a few tonight, but it took all my effort to answer her truthfully and interestingly. It was no use lying, and I didn't think 'I just wanted to talk' would cut it. From the sounds of it, it seemed like I only had once chance too.
"You look like you enjoy kicking ass and my friends are too scared to talk to you," I eventually managed to say. I think that did it; she stopped scowling at me and appeared amused even.
"Who are your friends?" I pointed towards Ben and James, who seeing what I was doing, tried to duck and pretend like they weren't watching. "Nice," she chuckled.
"They're scared you'll burn me alive."
"Oh darling," her eyes suggested a playful mood, "Don't think I won't." She took a sip of her drink and swallowed, mimicked in the air the lighting of a match and blew a stream of boozy breathe into my face while making whooshing noises with her mouth.
We both laughed together. "Oh no, it burns. We're going to need plenty of fluids to put that out. Bartender!"
We sat together for what felt like hours. The talk was endless. We talked about everything. She asked me what I was doing at the bar so I told her about my promotion. She called me a "big-shot" and I snickered. I asked her about music and she told me about her career. I said I liked her outfit on stage, and she said she was really into wearing latex.
I told her I thought that was really hot.
She told me she wanted to fuck me.
"Wait... What?" I was nervous for the first time in our conversation.
"I..."
"Yes?"
"Want..."
"Yeah, I got that part."
"To... bang-with-you-all-night," she spelt it out pretty plainly, "Is that okay?"
"Yeah... Yes..." I wasn't expecting this tonight. "It's just... I didn't think you would put out to me."
She put her forehead in her hands and laughed. "Darling, you know the whole ass kicking thing is just part of the act right? You think I'd ever get laid if I brushed off //every// guy like that. I do that so all the dweebs who just want a piece of my ass think twice before talking. But you're a cute dweeb. Now, I know a motel near here. Are you in?"
Cynthia was hot, that was no doubt. So I nodded, still shocked she even felt she needed to ask.
"Sweet," she said. She seized my hand and walked me off. "Bye fellas!" she waved goodbye to her band.
On the way out she grabbed someones shot glass off their table and prepared a lighter. Purposely taking the long way around, we walked pass Ben and James. The look on their faces when she puffed a little flame ball in their direction was priceless.
"See ya, lads," I waved.
From The Saltwater Tearoom to the Diggers's Retreat motel, I'd taken the tram to the bar so we rode in Cynthia's rusted old ute. Windows down and stereo blearing some ancient mixtape, Cynthia, being more sober, rode shotgun. Every time we hit a red light, she pulled the hand break and leant over the gear stick in a mess of seat belts and clutter, to lay hasty kisses and gropes until someone beeped at us to go. She would speed away, burning the tyres a bit each time, eager to find the next opportunity to play with me. We hardly even made it half way before she lost her patience and we had to pull over.
On a the side of a maintenance road next to the freeway, Cynthia came around passenger side to barge open the door and tongue at my mouth. In a hot flurry of hands and lips, I could feel her reach around me to unbuckle my pants, top shirt button and then seat belt. Grabbing the collar of my shirt, she dragged me out of the car, almost throwing me into the gound. Every movement she made seemed hungry for sex.
We rolled around in embrace in open view of the passing traffic. Some trucks and cars beeped at us and there were a few wolf whistles from passers by. Neither me or Cynthia cared though. I know I was far too horny to bother about privacy, torso and crotch pressed hard against hers through loosely undone pants. I could've done her in the dirt right there, fuck privacy. And I don't think she cared to begin with.
"Get in the tray," she said.
"Hmm?" I moaned through her soft lips.
"Get in." She pulled away from me and high kicked her leg over into the tray of her ute. Clumsily toppling in, with hair on her face, she peeked over the ledge and gestured me in with one finger. I clambered in after her and reunited our bodies, kissing her neck.
Limbs tangled in the back tray of Cynthia's ute with the clutter of dirty tools and instruments, we dry humped each other under the sodium glow of street side lamps.
"Watch out," she said and shifted a rusty saw before I cut my ass open on it.
"Thanks." I gasped for air before diving back.
I reached for her rear and she reached under my shirt. I began to feel up her chest and she shoved her hand down the front of my open pants. I kissed and embraced, tasting the sting of hard spirits still left on her teeth. She was rubbing her hands up and down, not stroking, but just caressing, letting the friction do the work. The night was freezing cold, but the heat coming off her body was intense. Fog lifted from both our mouths whenever we broke for air between frantic kisses, rolling lazily over our horny selves.
I moaned. "Cynthia! I'm going to cum!"
"What?" I think she heard me.
"I'm gonna cum," I groaned again through clenched teeth.
"Fuck." She withdrew her hand from my ball sack suddenly.
"Huh?" I groaned painfully. Aching for her attention, I wished she would touch me some more.
"C'mon, let's go to the motel," she clapped me on the shoulder and got up. My balls were so heavy and blue that I could hardly leave the tray. "C'mon!" Cynthia was already in the drivers seat and was hissing through the back window before I could clamber back out and get in.
She turned the stereo off. The remainder of the journey was spent in near silence, with only the hum of the road and Cynthia cutting in occasionally to tell me dirty things.
"When we get there," she paused to check the rear view, "I'm gonna fucking slide you up me so deep that you'll feel your gut turn. Got it?"
I could only grunt in reply, wishing I had an ice pack for my testicles.
We made a stop around the side of a corner servo and bought lube and a pack of condoms, running back to the car laughing giddily. The shop keeper looked either disgusted or jealous. We were both too excited to tell. While she was busy rushing for the hygiene section, I also bought a bottle of refrigerated soda to hold against my balls on the ride to the motel.
"Awww yeah. Fuck. That does it." I moaned, pushing the can hard against my crotch to cool my almost bursting blue balls.
Cynthia found this hilarious. "Hey you," she giggled, "Don't get that too warm. You might be thirsty after I'm done with you."
Finally we arrived at the motel. 'The Digger's Retreat', a shabby place, but it looked clean enough for our purposes. We booked a room, I shouted the money, and we sprinted off to the numbered door. When we got there I was ripping clothes off my body. Cynthia ran directly for the bed and dived right in, curling up the sheets as she pulled off her jeans.
I tossed the paper bag of lube and condoms on to the bed beside her and finished stripping down. She finished undressing before me and so she emptied the contents of the bag beside her. Trying to open the first condom, she accidentally ripped it in half with her teeth and then tore it viciously into three more pieces in frustration. If she hadn't taken issue to the first rubber then I wouldn't have had time to be naked and ready for her by the time the second was safely unwrapped.
She grabbed me by the balls with one hand, wrapping her fingers tightly in a firm loop around my scrotum, pulling down just hard enough that it did't feel entirely bad. Angrily she rolled the condom on with the other, grabbing my head and pushing down roughly with nearly brutal grip. I tried to climb over her, brushing my hands against her chest and leaning in for a kiss. But I was caught by a hard palm against the shoulder, knocking me back down, throwing me against the mattress. She had other ideas.
"No!" she snapped cutely, "I wanna go on top."
I had no complaints. So I laid back and spread myself out over the mattress. Cynthia was beautiful, bare to the skin. Her breasts were small, round and plump. Her bum on her knees, sat in between my legs. Darkened purple hair shaved all down the side. Her vagina looked soft and wet. She had a series of previously hidden tattoos all up and down the side of her torso, sneaking around her shoulders and tickling her thighs; leopard prints, dragons and mice from what I could see.
She stared at me lustily, unmoving, with piercing hazel-brown eyes, savouring the moment for herself. In one fluid motion, she set upon me, sliding me deep into the heat of her body and thrashing her lips against mine. Seized by instinct, I instantly wrapped myself around her and thrusted my hips into her. Her body was hot to the touch, hotter than when we'd pulled over on the side of the road, hotter than a burning fire. Kissing her neck, I could taste the scent of newly forming sweat on her skin.
"Mmm." Cynthia locked an arm around my neck and tugged threateningly at my hair. "You better make this good." She gazed deep into my soul, demanding that I satiate her desire.
I nodded dumbly, hoping I could comply. As lovely as she was, I was scared she might kick my ass if I failed her. She just had a knack for scaring people.
She bounced her hips, just like she did with that mic stand just earlier tonight.
I wriggled beneath her.
She grabbed me by the wrists and sucked my face.
I moaned for her.
She fucked me faster and faster until I was almost whimpering.
I tried to convulse, but she was still gripping my wrists and pushing me hard down onto the bed.
Cute little squeaks of sporadic pleasure pierced my lips. I don't think a woman like Cynthia had ever pushed me this hard before. She was right, I felt my very gut wrench from the searing heat she sent down the shaft of my dick and up into my spine. My spine, which she scratched with sharp nails through my back, mounting pressure in every muscle I could feel. Every whimper I gave, she sucked swallowed from my lips like liquor. She rode harder and faster, the pressure now building more tangibly only where she constricted her own hot holes against.
I came hard, howling dizzily as I felt all the juices in my body rush to the tip of my cock. I tried to tell her to stop thrusting now, but all I could manage were a few frantic cries. She pulled me out herself before it got too painful, grasping my rapidly deflating dick. I hardly had time to squeeze the last bit of cum off my foreskin into the condom before she sat up and grabbed my head by the ears, pulling my face into her crotch and letting it plant into her with a slap.
"Lick," she commanded.
I nearly yelped in surprise. I wanted to do as she said, but I'd never gone down on a woman before. I had nothing to go off of. //How am I going to do this!?// Cynthia was sexually menacing.
I stuck my tongue out. I tasted the sweat and liquid coating her pussy. She seemed to be liking what I was doing. It was tiring work, trying to keep her moaning and screeching. My tongue felt sore in my mouth. Near to the end, Cynthia began to grind against my face, like she was going to fuck my nose. I barely had time to catch a breath between her legs. I found myself on the edge of my lungs while still lapping desperately to pleasure her. She clasped her thighs around my head when she came, pinning me in place. All I could see was her nether parts pulsing as gentle hot ejaculate sprayed into my face. It smelled like Cynthia.
She loosened her legs and let me go. I fell back, gasping for oxygen. She snuggled up beside me. Looks like we both had air to catch.
"You're pretty good at that," she panted heavily, breasts and belly heaving.
"Thanks," I said, "That was my first time licking too."
She turned to me with wide eyes. I think I'd impressed.
In the morning we got up, still completely naked. I went and closed the curtain, as we'd forgotten last night, cock still out and swinging around. Cynthia found some instant coffee in the cupboard and was preparing it while wearing only her denim jeans, full breasts hanging out.
"You're really mean in bed you know that?" I said as we sat and sipped coffee, not bad for a cheap motel.
She laughed, "Yeah, you too."
"No, I mean //mean//." I was really trying to get the point across. "Like nasty."
"Yeah?" She glared at me playfully. "Am I too hardcore for you?"
"No, I *loved* it."
"Well, you did say you came to me 'cause you thought I looked like I kick ass."
"And you said that was just 'part of the act'."
"Well so was the latex, and you loved that too didn't you?"
She smiled at me. I could see it all over again. Picturing it on Cynthia's naked body and roughed up hair and faded makeup, the sexy wild lady dressed in a tight and shiny skull and cross bones. I smiled.
~story by A.Z.
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If you enjoyed my story, please leave a comment and tell me what you think. Your feedback is much appreciated. Thanks!
Hester
- 24.04.2020
- 16
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