The Spellbook
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CruisingChapter 9 free porn video
I got off work at the Starbucks on Northside. My blood was singing. It was a beautiful late July day, if a bit on the warm side. I'd gotten a text message from Hank, and I made sure I told everyone that I was going to do some shopping. I tried not to put an extra sway in my step as I rolled up my apron and headed out the door.
Thirty minutes later I was very visible going from store to store at the mall. I made a point of drawing attention to myself, even waving at a couple of Mom's friends. This established my alibi, and so when I headed out the door a few minutes later nobody thought anything of it. The things I'd bought were already stashed in my car, and when Mom asked me what I'd found I'd be able to show her.
A few turns, a stop in a parking garage, and a short taxi ride later I was at the side entrance to the Holiday Inn Express. It wasn't my preferred venue for this sort of thing, but where else could we go?
Hank met me in the lobby. We were polite to each other, acting like two people who had met once before, but that changed when we got in the elevator. Nobody else got in the car with us, so we went at it. When we got to the right floor I had to straighten up my blouse and zip up my slacks. My hair was a bit of a mess, but I didn't care.
Hank proved to be a magician. When we got to his room he made my blouse and bra disappear. I had little trouble with his pants, and we left a trail of clothes between the door and the bed. He was hard, I was wet, and we put things where they belonged.
One of the things I loved most about sex was the feeling of a man inside me. If you'd asked me before all of this started I would have stared at you blankly. But I'd changed in the 16 months since the cruise. I wasn't like those women who taught the soft stuff at school. I was a woman, and I liked men. I liked the way their bodies felt, I liked the way they touched and held me, and I liked the way they felt when they slid into me.
There was more when I was with Hank. With Tom, Phil, or any of the men I'd had at a party, it was a physical joining. My emotions weren't as involved. I had all of the fire and passion of good sex, but Hank touched me more than just in the female part of me. We talked; when I was with Tom and the others we talked, but it wasn't the same.
We got the necessities out of the way, satisfying both our immediate needs. Then we talked a little, well, a lot. By then he was recovered, and we went at it again. The third time was bittersweet, because we knew the next time we'd see each other would be after school started. So we dragged it out.
I stroked his hair when he took a break and applied his marvelous tongue to my pearl. He thrust into me with two fingers, and it was enough to send me over the top. I returned the favor, though stopping short of his climactic moment. I needed him hard for the conclusion.
Hank had a way of taking his time. He kept teasing me with his manhood, rubbing it against my breasts, across my tummy, and so on. I propped myself up on my elbows so I could watch when he finally pushed it down between my legs. You can't really see that part of you unless you use a mirror, but your imagination can fill in.
He sawed his length back and forth against my pearl. It was enough to set me off again, and I bucked up against him, open and flowing, wanting the feel of him sliding in me. He let the storm take me, and when I'd relaxed just a little he bent down. I saw the blunt head of his thing disappear over the curve of my tummy, and I caught my breath.
I could see him push forward, and almost flinched at the first touch. There is nothing, and I mean nothing that feels like a man sliding into you. I've used my fingers and a hairbrush, and I've had tongues and someone's fingers down there. It isn't the same. A guy's manhood opens you up, stretching you out and filling you as he slides it in. Every nerve is on alert, and every one of them tells you when that delicious hardness slides across them. I'd seen guys sliding it into other women, so I knew what it looked like. But when you couple that with the feeling of it happening, the result is a lot more intense than just a mechanical act.
I could feel something rising inside me as he kept going. This is when you want a guy who is a foot long. It feels so big that you think he's going to pop into your throat from the wrong end. And when you feel his balls against your bottom, you have trouble realizing that you've taken all of him. When you do, that's a satisfying feeling.
Then things get better, because both of you start moving.
This time Hank got me into that state that I'd only experienced once or twice before. The climaxes just rolled over me, one after another. It was like the waves that wash onshore. Each one pushed me a little higher, and I'd shudder and come. That left me hungry and ready for another one. It would follow, and that would set me up for the next one.
I pulled him down for a kiss. His chest hair scratched my nipples. My buds were super tight and sensitive, and every touch sent an electric jolt through me. I think I closed my eyes and gave one silent scream after another.
Eventually he bathed my insides with his come. We drifted down in each other's arms, breathing hard, our hearts racing. Our skin was slick with sweat and our hair was plastered across our faces. Every bit of yearning and longing was worked out of me. I wasn't so much tired as I was relaxed. Three nearly non-stop hours of sex had thoroughly scratched my itch.
We lay there for a while, caressing our heated bodies. Finally I had to be going. Mom knew I wasn't the shopper she or Suzy was, so I would arouse suspicion if I stayed out too late. Hank and I spent some time cuddling and kissing, and continued the caresses and kisses as we showered; I made sure he was very clean down there. Dressing was a little harder because of our wandering hands. Finally, though, I was put back together enough to be presentable. I hated saying good-bye to him, but it was something we had to do.
My body felt like it was made of liquid. My skin was super-sensitive, and I got little jolts of feeling as I walked. I made sure to get a little sweaty, and I think I looked appropriately tired when I dragged my 'loot' into the house. Fortunately the air conditioner was on high and it was cold enough that nobody really said anything about my nipples; Suzy's and Mom's were both visible.
On some previous nights I'd fingered myself to a completion. Not this night. My head hit the pillow, and I slept the sleep of a thoroughly laid woman.
The next couple of days were hard. My body was keyed up and wanted more. Instead I had to be the Southern Belle, perfect, cool, and in control. I couldn't be the wanton woman who wanted a man inside her and his naked body on top of her. Mores the pity.
About a week later I got a call from Mary. "Hank tells me you're still looking," she said.
"Yeah, but I haven't found anything."
"Okay. You're going to get a call in a few minutes. Her name is Jennifer Worth. You two need to talk."
"Is she—"
"You need to talk."
A few minutes later, near the end of my break, Jennifer Worth called. It was one of those cryptic things Hank had told me happen.
"When do you get off work? I'd like to meet with you."
"In a couple of hours." I checked the clock. "1:30."
A slender, middle-aged woman with dark hair and an impeccable wine red suit, stopped at the table I was sitting at. "I'll see you in two hours," she said, and walked away, snapping shut her cell phone.
The rest of the shift went very slowly. When I could finally hang up my apron, after the noon rush finally died away, I was very curious. And as promised, the woman was waiting for me just outside.
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