Mother s Birthday Present
- 3 years ago
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The Birthday Present free porn video
Life had become kind of stale for Chris Williams. His career had gone
nowhere in particular - not that it really mattered, he and his wife
Linda were comfortable, he just had no corporate ambitions left. She too
had become becalmed in life. When they met, she had aspirations of being
an actress, but life and motherhood got in the way. She convinced
herself she was still involved in the stage, by joining her local
amateur dramatic group. But slowly she moved from acting roles to
backstage, eventually spending her time with wardrobe and costume. For
both of them, their daily life was now simple, even somewhat mundane.
Besides, they were always other things - intimate things - to bring
pleasure and fulfillment in life, right? No, not really. Their only son
had grown up and moved on, and now it was just the two of them, they
realized that intimacy had left them too. At some point, their interest
in sex had gone in different directions. After giving birth, Linda
seemed to lose interest in sex. Of course, they talked about their
feelings, but while Linda's sex drive seemed to turn left and glide
gently down the hill to a small, still pond, Chris turned in the other
direction up that hill, reaching higher and higher points of sensuality,
even fetish. His lonely internet explorations triggered all sorts of
kinky desires, which he so much wanted to share with his wife. But
something held him back, something he decided felt a bit like shame.
Once or twice he had accidentally left a web browser open on some
unusually kinky page, but luckily Linda did not seem to discover his
peccadilloes. At least, she never mentioned anything.
As he sat at this hotel bar, Chris could not shake the sense of anti-
climax he felt at another meaningless birthday celebration. His
thoughtful and loving wife meant well, and only wanted to make him
happy. But last month, when Linda had casually asked - just as she did
every year - "What do you want to do for your birthday?" He had been
very tempted to say, 'I want to go to a seedy bar, pick up a trashy-
looking prostitute wearing too much make-up and jewelry, take her down a
back alley, bend her over a trash can and fuck her ass.' Instead - just
as he did every year - he lamely suggested, 'How about a nice meal
somewhere?'
Linda had seemed to sense his resignation and disappointment about the
birthday arrangements, and this year she had surprised him with her
plans - a big night out in the city. So far, he had had half the
surprise - he was sitting in the bar of this hotel, but he did not know
what his 'surprise' event was going to be, though he knew it would
involve staying over in this mediocre hotel. It was the kind of hotel he
would have stayed in when traveling for work, so at least he knew that
the breakfast buffet would be reasonable in the morning.
Looking around the darkly lit room, he was pleasantly surprised that at
least he was not alone at the bar. He tipped back his glass and drained
the disappointing, mid-range scotch, and tried to attract the bartender,
who was at the other end of the bar, chatting with a couple of patrons.
'No more cheap scotch,' he thought to himself, and scanned the vodka
bottles on the back of the bar.
Finally, the bartender turned away from the woman at the end of the bar
with the bouffant hair, who was fiddling around with her phone, and made
his way towards Chris. Chris' eye was drawn to the woman, as she tapped
away awkwardly on her phone with long, blood-red nails. She struggled as
if the large rings on her fingers made texting difficult.
"Yes, Sir? ...Sir?" Chris jolted as the bartender sought his attention.
"Oh, er, sorry. Can I have a double vodka with Sprite, please."
Chris noticed the woman had an open carton of cigarettes in front of her
on the bar, and was sliding one out with those crimson nails and raising
it to her lips. He watched fascinated as her long nails clicked the
lighter, and a curl of smoke drifted upwards.
"Do you allow smoking in here?" he asked the bartender, nodding towards
the woman.
"Oh yes sir, one of the last places in the city. Shall I put this on
your tab?"
"Oh...er, yeah. And...er... thanks."
Chris realized his attention was focused on this woman. Her hair was
frosted and teased, and seemed frozen in place by hairspray. Her face
was covered in make-up - smooth, even skin tone, thick red lipstick
which had ringed the cigarette she held in her cocked hand....but those
eyes....elaborately lined in black, smoky, with long, charcoal lashes.
She looked older, but the mask of make-up made it impossible to judge
her age. She was dressed half-way between a business suit and a cocktail
outfit. Too dressy for a bank or corporate, but not out of place in this
little hotel. Everything seemed a little too tight on her swelling
figure.
Suddenly, he realized he was staring at her, checking her out. There was
something strangely familiar about his woman, he just couldn't place it.
In the dim light of the bar he was scanning her hair, her clothes to see
if he could make some connection. As he looked again at that painted
face, he realized she was staring straight back at him. She lowered her
face, peering at him though those long lashes, and half smiled at him,
with an air of confidence.
Just as Chris started to cover his embarrassment, his phone pinged with
a text message.
"Running late. Gonna be another 40 mins. Have a drink in the bar. Luv
you. L."
He looked down and typed a quick response to his wife, and reached for
his vodka, downing it quickly and catching the bartenders eye again.
"Wife says she's running late, and we should have another drink," he
said, offering the empty glass.
"Does that include me?" He turned suddenly at the voice beside him.
While he was texting, the mysterious woman had gathered her belongings,
moved down the bar and slid onto the stool beside him.
"Um, yes, er yes...of course. What can I get you?"
"Double brandy and coke, please." As the bartender moved off to prepare
the drinks, the woman twisted on her stool to face Chris.
"You were watching me, weren't you?" Chris was almost too tongue-tied to
respond. He was overwhelmed with the sight of this woman - the tightness
of the black satin skirt across her thighs, the slinkiness of the animal
print blouse that draped her generous bosom - and the smells....this
close, he could smell the make-up, as well as her hairspray, mingling
with the tobacco smoke.
"I....er....well, I....you looked a bit familiar. Do you come here
often?" 'Shit, what a lame thing to say....' He was feeling dazed, and
out of control. This woman was pressing all his buttons, and he wasn't
coping very well. Part of him wanted to put some distance between them,
but something else in him - something dangerous - wanted to see where
this conversation would go.
"Oh, I come here every weekend, looking for some company. Are you
looking for company, honey?" Her voice had a strong, lilting tone, like
someone impersonating a southern accent.
"I'm waiting for someone. My wife..." It seemed really important to tell
her that his wife was coming, but he'd bought her a drink now, and
couldn't get her to leave. He wondered how Linda would react to seeing
him sitting in this bar with this tart.
"My name is Gloria, by the way. What should I call you, honey?" She
spoke softly in her uncertain accent which generated an intimacy, like
she was leaning in close. Actually, now she was leaning in close. Chris
could see the dimpled skin of her cleavage, and could smell her perfume.
But most of all, he could smell the cosmetics on her face, the waxy
smell of her lipstick, the dusky scent of the powder on her cheek....He
was feeling the effects of the three strong drinks he had drunk, but
this woman was more intoxicating. Her thick, spidery lashes were almost
hypnotic.
"Chris. I'm Chris." 'Damn, why did I tell her that?'
"Well, Chris honey, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance...." Bracelets
jangled on her wrist, as she rested her hand with the red nails and the
gold rings on his forearm. Just a little too long. Then her lips moved
in close to his face, and she almost whispered in his ear "....and I'd
like to get to know you a LOT better. Do you have a room in the hotel?"
"My wife...er, I'm waiting...."
"Oh, Chris honey, she's gonna be another 40 minutes. That's plenty of
time to get to know each other." Chris hardly noticed her accent
switching from region to region, as her hand dropped from his arm to
land on the inside of his thigh. He felt the rasp of her nails on his
trousers as she scratched at the seams. As her fingers reached the
bottom of his zipper, she turned her face towards him and looked into
his eyes. He could see the smudgy, smoky liner around her eyes, the
artificial lashes ringing above and below, and the shiny, blue pigment
under her brow. He thought his heart was going to jump out of his chest.
"So all we gotta work out is, what you want to do and how much you have
for me?" He was not surprised that she was a hooker. He was just
surprised how much she was the exact match for his fantasy hooker.
"Come on, let's get to your room and sort it out there." She slid from
the bar stool, scooped up her purse with one hand and slipped her other
hand into the crook of his arm. Chris' feet moved automatically, his
freewill slipping away with every step.
"So, I'll put that on your room tab, sir?" The bartender said rather
frostily, as Chris walked away with Gloria on his arm.
"Err, yes, r-room 224," he stammered. Gloria reached across to the
bartender and took the card key from him. As they exited the bar,
several heads turned and watched them disapprovingly. Gloria's spiky
black sandals click-clacked across the tiled floor of the lobby, echoing
loudly like gun-fire, drawing attention to the pair and their oh, so
obvious mission.
'Oh shit, omygod, what am I doing?" thought Chris. Linda would be here
in half an hour or so, and he could not explain what he was doing. It
seemed like he was in a dream, albeit one he had had before, several
times, often when sitting in front of his flickering computer screen
late at night....
He walked across the lobby towards the elevators on autopilot, guided by
the red talons on his arm. The eyes of the reception staff followed them
closely across the floor, and he almost fainted when the Night Manager
made a move towards the door, but in an instant they were in the
elevator and the doors slid shut.
"There, honey, just you calm down...." It was certainly a strange
accent, almost too actorly, but instead of trying to fathom what it
meant, Chris could now see the vision of his erstwhile partner reflected
head-to-toe in the elevator's mirrored walls.
She was wearing strappy black sandals with a high heel and a small
platform, which must have added 5 inches to her height. Her legs were
encased in classic black seamed stockings, which disappeared under a
short, shiny satin skirt. A leopardskin blouse with full cuffs and a
low, cowl neck which showed the slightly mottled skin of her full bosom,
was cinched in by a wide belt of black vinyl, with a large, square,
ostentatious diamante buckle. Over this, she wore a black vinyl jacket,
with a slim collar of fake black fur at the neck. Her face was a picture
- a canvas of which every square inch was covered in powder and paint,
revealing no lines or wrinkles - in fact, barely any features at all.
Her hair, a non-descript kind of dark color with silvery frosting, was
arranged artfully in a puff around her head, held fast by hairspray. It
reminded Chris of his mother's hair, when she had a shampoo and set
before his Dad's annual company Christmas party. Large, thick silver
hoops hung from her ears, and swung as she turned to face him. He
couldn't tell how old she was, nor what she might look like under all
this make-up.
"You were looking at me, weren't you honey? Do you like what you see?
It's all yours if we can fix a price."
"No, I'm sorry, I can't do this. I mean, er, you're lovely but I....I
just can't."
"Well, yes you can, Mister Room 224." Her tone was harsher than
previously, and the nomadic accent slipped again into something familiar
to Chris....
"I'm a working girl, and I've taken time out of my evening to come up
here with you. I'm not leaving empty-handed. Besides, what would your
wife say if she had to come and ask me for your room key?"
He realized that Gloria still had the key, and he didn't feel like
wrestling her for it in the elevator. As the doors slid open on their
floor, Gloria quickly scanned the arrows and made her way towards Chris'
room. Too quickly, she was at the door and letting herself in. Chris
followed her inside, and watched her set the cheap, vinyl purse and her
fake fur jacket down on the couch. He checked his watch again, sensing
time slipping away and wondering how he was going to get her out of the
room.
Gloria moved towards him, and placed her hands with the long nails
around his neck. He tried not to close his eyes, but he could not help
shivering involuntarily as he felt the sharp acrylic nails touch his
bare skin. The scent of perfume and makeup was overpowering.
"Look, you have to go, please, please go quickly. I-I'll pay you!"
Her face showed feigned hurt feelings, as she pouted dramatically.
"Ahh, but honey, that would be no fun for you. Listen, I can get my lips
round your cock and suck you off in no time. How about a quick blowjob
before she gets here? We can be all done in a few minutes."
"OK, ok, yes. Just, let's get this done quickly." Chris truly did not
realize what he was saying, he just needed to get this tramp out of his
hotel room.
"Fine. That'll be $100 honey, payment before I start."
Shit. Not only was it a lot for a blowjob, that was nearly all the cash
he had in his wallet. He was down to his last $10 this afternoon, so
Linda had gone to the ATM and got him another $100 for this evening. Now
he would be wiped out.
He turned to the couch where he had dropped his jacket, retrieved his
wallet, and fished out the bills. As he looked up, Gloria was dropping
the satin skirt to her ankles, and sliding her arms out of the blouse.
'No, no, no, please don't get undressed' he thought, but then he took in
the sight of her undergarments. Instead of scanty, sexy bra and
knickers, she was wearing a traditional foundation garment. It was shiny
and black, and went in one piece from her bulging bosom to the straining
globes of her ample backside. She wasn't wearing stockings and
suspenders, but the black seamed nylons were pantyhose that disappeared
under the girdle bottom. The girdle was fighting hard to keep everything
in, but was doing a good job of maintaining her hour-glass figure. Now
Gloria was standing in front of him, all in black, with her silver hoops
and red nails contrasting in spectacular fashion.
She took the money from his hand and tucked it between her bosoms. Then
she smiled at him, put her hands on his shoulders, and used his body for
support as she slid down to her knees. Her nails scraped down his chest,
then settled on his belt, slowly unhitching it, and opening his
trousers. She reached inside his shorts, and played with the hair at his
crotch, then she gingerly lifted his growing penis for examination. She
looked closely at it, then looked into his eyes as she moved the red-
tipped fingers up and down the shaft. Once his prick was fully grown,
one hand slid backwards and cupped his ballsac, while the other gripped
the head, and guided it towards the glossy-red, half-open lips. He felt
her breath on his cock an instant before he felt the moistness of her
lips. Her fingers stretched back the skin, as her mouth engulfed the
purple head of his penis. She worked her tongue around the head, and
sucked and pulled. Chris had literally felt nothing like this in his
life, and felt his balls tighten as the pleasure in his penis grew and
grew.
"Onmygod, ohmygod...." he gasped, as Gloria lips moved faster and faster
up and down the shaft, her tongue flicking at the tip on each pass. She
could sense his release coming, and she suddenly sank down, taking the
whole shaft down her throat in one movement....Then....
"Aaagh...no, no!" Instead of the expected release, Gloria had sunk her
nails into his scrotum and then scraped her teeth along the length of
the shaft as she pulled her mouth from his cock. Chris' orgasm
disappeared in a flash, and though her face looked flustered and
breathless, the smile on her face looked ominous.
"Chris, my honey,...." she panted, "you paid far too much for a simple
blowjob. I think you deserve more...." She stood up and walked to the
desk, pulling the upright chair into the middle of the room. She reached
under her crotch, and released the clasps holding the gusset of her
girdle, which flapped open between her legs. Then, bending slightly
forward, she reached back and used her scarlet talons to poke a hole in
the seat of her black tights before reaching her fingers in and ripping
a much larger hole. Then she leaned forward over the back of the chair
and gripped the seat.
"C'mon, honey...." she growled at him like an animal. "Fill my ass with
that sweet cock! You know you want to!"
Chris mind was lost. Yes, he wanted to fuck this hooker's ass. And he
was so, so close to cumming. But he was married, and he wanted to be
faithful. And his wife was going to turn up at any moment. And he needed
to get this woman out of his room, which at the moment seemed to be
spinning and swirling in multiple directions. He wanted to think that he
could use reason to justify what he did next, but it was probably just
animal instinct. Gloria was growling at him.
"C'mon, stick that in me, give me your meat, grrr, fuck me silly." It
was a guttural sound, with no trace of the sweet, southern accent.
Stepping forward, he spat into the palm of his hand and rubbed the
saliva around the head of his cock. Then he felt under the edge of the
girdle, pulled apart the luscious bum cheeks and pushed his cock into
the puckered hole.
"Uuhh!" The cry came simultaneously from both of them, as Chris began to
pump. He expected the initial tightness to give way to soreness, but
Gloria had obviously prepared herself for this, and the lube inside her
made the whole thing so much more pleasurable than he had dreamed.
Gloria was getting off too. She had reached between her legs and was
using her long nails on her clit, and she pushed back into Chris's
thighs with every thrust. Her growls had turned into little high pitched
gasps each time he thudded into her.
Between the gasps, Gloria cried out, "How much longer do we have - 40
minutes she said, right?"
The pressure in Chris' balls was growing as he moved towards his climax.
But so was some other uneasy feeling. As his cock slid in and out of her
asshole, as she squealed 'Yes, yes, yes ' with every thrust, as his
balls twitched, ready to release their load, Chris suddenly realized
what was bothering him.
"I...ugh...I....ugh....I never told you...ugh....it was 40
minutes......UGHHH....Aaaahhhh!"
Gloria pushed back on hearing his grunt, as the explosion came hard from
behind his cock and shot deep into bowels. She let out a high-pitched
squeak, then squirmed against his sticky thighs, purring like a kitten.
"Oh, wow, that was amazing!" Even if the wig hadn't shifted half way
down her back, he would still have recognized that voice now it was
unencumbered by passion, or that weird southern drawl.
"I didn't tell Gloria 40 minutes, that was only in the text message.
Your text message."
Linda turned to face him, pulled the wig back into place, smiled and
said slowly, in a southern drawl, "Happy Birthday, honey. Did you get
everything you wanted this year?"
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