11-05-2019, 06:36 PM
GENDER STUDY
PART1
"Oh baby, you're not going to make me go to that stupid thing, are you?"
I looked up to see my wife, Janelle, giving me a pouty look.
"Why not, honey? I went to your stupid high college reunion. And that was in Buttfuck, Iowa."
"Yeah, but at least my friends don't hate you."
"My friends don't hate you."
"No, they just think I'm a dumb bimbo who somehow seduced you."
"I can't see how they could think you're dumb. You probably make more than all of them combined."
"Uh huh, I'm sure working on Wall Street really goes over well with your Beatnik crowd. But regardless of anything else, I'm still the dumb, Midwestern, state college girl not a big-city Ivy Leaguer like the rest of you."
"You're just being silly. I swear, they don't think of you like that."
But, of course, they did. It was my tenth year reunion from Brown. And my friends, all dyed-in-the-wool liberals, still had a lot of weird attitudes about people from 'flyover country.' And it didn't help that Janelle was typecast by her looks. Blond-haired, blue-eyed, and large-breasted she could have easily passed for a party girl. The fact that she had been salutatorian at her high college, earned a full scholarship to University of Rhode Island for grades and music, and worked like a dog her whole life did little to dispel first impressions.
The reaction when I started dating Janelle after meeting her in a Providence bar one summer was mild jealousy from my male friends, and loud disappointment from my female friends. I always figured that getting them together would make them close. They would see she wasn't just a pretty face, and she would see that my friends were not just East Coast snobs, but it never really worked out.
The truth is, my friends were not snobby per se, but rather a combination of immature, insecure, and emo. My best friend Tara was always whining about not having a boyfriend, but she was also always making fun of how Janelle's hair and makeup were always perfect. Celeste was always complaining about having a belly, but also made fun of Janelle's obsessive workout routine.
But damn it, it was my tenth anniversary reunion, and I hadn't seen the old gang in a while, and I wanted to share the evening with my wife.. and yeah, I liked showing her off as well.
I managed to talk Janelle into going, and actually we had a great day at Homecoming. It was fun seeing the campus again, and I even dropped by to see some old professors. We ran into a few friends, but everybody was mostly flitting about. That evening, we were going to get together for drinks and a dinner. Janelle and I were staying downtown, and made plans to meet up with Tara early at the hotel bar since she'd been working all day.
When I told Janelle the plans, she just sighed.
"What?"
"Tara hates me the most. You know that right?"
"You're imagining things."
She shook her head and laughed. "Really, Dave?"
"Look, she's an old friend."
"Did you ever sleep with her?"
"Tara? God no." I hesitated. "What.. are you jealous?"
She laughed. "I sorta wish you had. You know Tara had a crush on you, right? She probably still thinks you're the one who got away."
"That's crazy talk."
"No, it isn't. Girls can sense these things. And every time I've met Tara it's been the same thing. She hates me because she thinks I am the cheap slut that stole you from her."
"Honey, you are far from cheap," I said with a smirk.
She slapped me. "Just remember, you owe me for this."
We met at the bar, and Tara was the same Tara as always. Smart and generous, and slightly unkempt and overweight, and funny and whiny all at the same time. She gave Janelle a hug, but both the girls were more than a little stiff. But still we caught up, in a way that you can only do face to face no matter how many Facebook posts you read. Tara was in a dead-end, poorly paid, but emotionally satisfying job with a non-profit. She was still friends with a lot of the old crew. And she was still single.
After a couple of drinks, Tara was going on about how hard it is to meet men. Going on and on and on. I could remember these rants from back in college, and ten years on, they had only gotten longer and more bitter.
Finally, Janelle had enough. "Oh, Jesus, Tara. How is it that you could be a gender studies major and know so little about men? You want to meet a man? All you have to be is available."
Tara sneered. "Oh sure, if you get all tarted up like a beauty queen, you can. But I'd like to meet a guy who isn't just looking for a pretty face."
Janelle looked over at me and shrugged. "I'm going to get a breath of fresh air. Give me your sweater."
I watched her walk away and then turned back to Tara. "That wasn't very nice."
"I'm sorry. But she just doesn't know what its like. Guys are always falling for girls like her, not matter how bitchy they are."
"Janelle is not a bitch. She's the sweetest..."
Tara put her hand on my forearm. "I'm not saying she isn't," Tara lied. "I am just saying it is different for normal girls."
We changed the subject and reminisced about college for a while. Suddenly this woman sat down in Janelle's seat.
"Hey, that's my wife's..."
She looked me in the eyes and giggled.
"Janelle?"
"In the flesh."
She'd totally changed her appearance. Her hair, usually flowing past her shoulders in golden waves was pulled back into a sloppy bun, the kind women wear to go to Walmart or tend the garden. She'd taken out her contacts, and was wearing her decidedly non-designer glasses. She'd removed her makeup and added some dark circles under her eyes. And wearing my formless sweater made her look downright frumpy.
Tara shot her a dark look. "What is this shit?"
Janelle smiled sweetly. "Let's do a gender studies experiment. Pick a man in the bar. Any man."
"Well, sure, you can pick up a guy if you offer to fuck him the bathroom or some shit."
"Tara, I'm not trying to show you up. I just want to show you something. You pick a guy, and then you can sit next to me. And if I do anything untoward to get his attention, then you call me on it. But I'm going to show you how easy it is to meet men."
"Honey, let's not do this," I interjected.
"Oh come on Dave, it'll be fun. Just play along."
I sighed and nodded.
Tara scanned the bar. "That one," she said, point to a middle aged guy in a suit at the bar. He was a big guy, over six feet tall, and barrel chested. His hair was thinning, but he was clean shaven. Lighter and younger he would probably have been ruggedly handsome. I have no idea why Tara picked him. But she did.
Jenelle instructed us to get seats at the bar next to him, so we could listen in, and then after a few minutes, she followed and squeezed between us and him.
She looked up at a hockey game on TV. "What's the score?" She asked him.
He looked over at Janelle, and she apparently didn't make much of an impression. "I dunno," he said. "Wasn't really watching the game."
She continued to watch TV quietly, ostensibly waiting for the bartender to take her order.
The guy turned back toward her. "Are you a hockey fan?"
"Naw," she replied lightly. "I was just curious."
"Are you from around her?"
"No, up from New York for the weekend, visiting some friends."
"Yeah, I'm down Boston on business."
They talked like that for a while. Idle chit chat. They talked about New York vs. Boston. About work. About the best restaurants in town. His name was Tony and he seemed like a nice guy. Smart and sardonic. There was no overt flirting, not at first. Just two people, comfortable in their own skin chatting.
But then after a while, I guess she grew on him because he started getting more interested. He complimented her eyes -- her glasses did little to hide them. She asked him if he worked out. He bought her a couple of drinks. They moved in closer to each other. I started getting uneasy. After a while, he checked his watch and then sighed.
"What's the matter," she cooed.
"I… I have to meet some people for dinner. Business." He paused. She pouted. "But I really like you," he paused. She smiled. "And well, since we're both from out of town."
She looked at him expectantly. He took her hand.
"I'd like to show you a good time," he finally said, taking her hand and moving it to his crotch.
"Oh my," she giggled, "is that all you?"
He took out his room key and placed it on the bar. "I need to go. But I'll be back around 11:00, maybe 11:30. Come visit me. Room 1246."
"Sounds like fun," she replied in a sultry voice.
He leaned in and kissed her. A lingering embrace. She returned the kiss.
He walked away. Janelle turned toward us. Tara stared at my wife in shock, and I guess I did too.
She put her hand on my shoulder. "Sorry about the kiss, baby, it happened so fast, and I didn't see a graceful way out of it." She waved the key at Tara. "There you go. Nice guy. You picked him. He's smart and employed. And all I needed to do was ask about a game he wasn't even watching."
"Well sure, if all you want is a one night stand."
Janelle sighed. "There are worse things, you know, especially since I think he's packing. But it would have been easy to get his number and arrange a date instead. I figured you'd be smart enough to get the point."
I stepped in at that point. "Girls, girls, please can you two stop bickering? It is like being at home with my parents," I said trying to lighten things up.
Janelle shook her head. "I'm gonna drop off this thing off at the front desk," she said pointing to the key, "and go freshen up."
She came back a few minutes later, once again put together, and returned my sweater. Happily it was time to get going and meet the others, which put an end to Tara and Janelle's squabbling.
I had a good time that evening, though I was worried about Janelle. We ended up going to this cool Mexican-Japanese fusion place. The food was great, but my friends were being cold fish, especially after Tara circulated what must have been an embellished version of the events in the bar. Janelle ended up excusing herself several times to check out the decorations and the band that was playing out in the garden area. She was pretty quiet, and I could tell she was looking forward to the evening being over. I knew she wasn't having fun, and I kept meaning to leave when another old friend would suddenly appear. But I figured she'd forgive me.
We went back to the hotel. I'd had a little too much to drink. Given how the evening had gone, I figured I wasn't going to get any in any case. But she surprised me. When we got into our hotel room, Janelle casually slipped off her jeans and panties and walked around the room in just her clingy sweater while brushing her teeth.
"You look good enough to eat," I offered.
"You talk too much," she replied with a smirk.
I dropped to my knees and buried my face in her crotch. In addition to her other charms, Janelle has the tastiest pussy I've ever had. She's always fresh and clean, her juices just a touch tangy. I lapped away for a while as she ran her hands through my hair.
"I want you," she rasped.
I stumbled back onto the bed, and she roughly tugged at my pants. I was rock hard, and the moment my cock popped out, she was on top of me, impaling herself on my member. We fucked like that for a few minutes until she gasped in passion, collapsing onto my chest.
We slowly shed the rest of our clothes, my dick inside her the whole time, and then resumed our lovemaking in earnest. She was very wet and she fucked me hungrily, pumping her hips eagerly to meet my thrusts, her tongue jamming deep into my mouth. I was drunk enough that it took me a while time to cum, but Janelle didn't seem to mind even though it went on longer than usual. When I finished, it felt like a dam giving way, and dizzy from drink and exertion I collapsed onto the bed. We cuddled together for a while and drifted off to sleep.
I am not sure what woke me. Sex and booze usually knock me out, but good. But I guess being in a strange bed made me sleep lightly. I looked at the clock. It was 1:30am. I felt next to me and realized Janelle wasn't there. For a moment, I assumed she was in the bathroom, but then the sound that had woken me popped into my head. It was definitely the door to the hallway. I got up, and yanked on a pair of jeans from the floor.
Sure enough, she wasn't in the bathroom. And then like a shot, I had a weird vision. The bar. The man. The room key. Room 1246.
I went out into the hallway just in time to hear the elevator door chiming as it shut. I turned, spotted the stairs and sprinted up two flights to the twelfth floor. The door to room 1246 was slowly shutting on its mechanical arm, and I reached out at the last second to stop it from latching shut. I pressed my ear to the door.
"What, what, who is it?" Came a scratchy voice.
I saw the light go on.
"Who are you?" Continued the puzzled voice.
"I thought you were going to show me a good time. Sorry I'm late," Janelle answered.
I hear him sit up on his bed. "Damn, girl, you clean up nice."
I cracked the door open. She'd moved out of the entrance and into the bedroom. The room was lit, but dimly. He must have only had the reading light on over this bed. I slid inside and silently shut the door. I got down on my knees and crawled a few feet to get a view into the room. He was sitting on his bed, in his boxers, and she was standing before him in a short, thin, hotel robe which she holding together at the waist. Wordlessly, she released her grip, letting the robe come open, exposing her generous cleavage and closing trimmed blond muff.
"If I'd know you were hiding a body like that, I'd have ditched my dinner plans," he said with a smile.
She stepped closer. Tony reached out and slid a finger up her inner thigh, and when she didn't flinch, he pressed it up inside her. She gasped softly, her hips swaying sexily. He pulled out and rubbed his fingertips together.
"Somebody's been a naughty girl already."
She grinned saucily.
He pressed his finger into her mouth and she licked it clean. He pumped his finger back into her snatch several times, each time pulling out and feeding her a cocktail of her juices and my cum, which she swallowed eagerly. It was a sexy show, and Tony was enjoying it enough that he was stroking his rapidly thickening member through his boxers.
"Why did you think I'd appreciate sloppy seconds?" He asked.
She smirked. "I've never known a man to turn down a well-lubed hole."
He laughed and pressed a second finger into her pussy. "You're a hot little slut, aren't you?"
"Let me see what you're rubbing," she replied in a sultry tone.
As he pulled down his shorts, his cock sprang out, standing at attention in his lap. It wasn't some porno-style stunt cock, but he was definitely well-endowed.
"Mmmm, that's a lovely prick," cooed my wife as she dropped to her knees between his thighs.
Janelle is a world class cock-sucker. I hate to think about how she became that way. But the truth is, she could give lessons, and now she proceeded to pull out all the stops for Tony.
She started by licking his rod all over, getting it nice and wet, as she massaged his balls with her hands. Then she switched, sucking his sack into her mouth as he squished her hands up and down his thick shaft. She licked her way back up the underside of his cock, and then circled his cockhead with her tongue.
"Fuck, that's good," he growled, running his hands through her silky hair.
But she was just getting started. She took him deep into her mouth and bobbed her head up and down as her hands continued to caress his shaft and balls. He began pumping his hips, trying to force himself deeper into her throat, but he was too big to fit all the way.
She rose up and kissed his belly, and then leaned forward and pressed his cock between her teardrop breasts, fucking his cock with her tits.
She looked him in the eyes. "If I finish you off, will you be able to get hard again to fuck me?"
"Baby, my dick'll get hard just being in the same room as you."
She pumping his cock between her tits a few more times, and then rubbed his cockhead against each of her nipples in turn, coating them with his pre-cum. Then she dropped down again and swallowed him deeply, fucking his dick with her mouth. He was moaning louder now, obviously getting close. Keeping his cockhead in her mouth, she started pumping his shaft roughly, wetly with both hands.
"Oh God," he growled loudly. His hand grabbed a firm handful of her hair and held her in place. Not that he needed to because Janelle was eagerly sucking down his seed all on her own. I could see her swallowing gob after gob as he twitched repeatedly in passion.
When he was finally done, she straightened up, her hands still gently fondling his shaft.
"How long were you saving that up?" She giggled.
He laughed. "A few days. Maybe more, I guess."
"That'll be enough protein to last me a week," she replied. Though she immediately belied that comment by swooping down and lapping up every stray drop of jism that appeared from his slit.
He softened noticeably, and Janelle took the opportunity to swallow him whole, taking him balls deep into her mouth. She worked his cock slowly. Long, deep, wet strokes that quickly brought him back online. In less than five minutes, his member was again rigid, jutting out proudly.
"I need it inside me," she hissed and climbed into his lap.
He grabbed her hips and roughly impaled her on his cock. She threw back her head and gasped loudly.
"God, you're big," she moaned as she ground into him.
They fucked hard. He was a powerful man, bouncing her up and down on his cock like a ragdoll. His hands were all over her. He squeezed and slapped her ass, pulling the cheeks apart and tickling her asshole. He mauled her breasts, sucking her nipples into his mouth until the areolae were puffy, wet, and swollen. He kissed her hard, jamming his tongue into her mouth, and bit her neck hard enough to leave marks.
And she loved it. She was squealing like a porn star, grinding her hips into him to meet his thrusts, her arms wrapped around his head, her eyes shut tight in concentration.
Without warning he grabbed her by the ass and flipped her onto her back on the bed. She obligingly pulled her knees to her chest, her feet pointed toward the ceiling, opening herself completely for him. He climbed on top and began to jackhammer his thick cock into her pretty little snatch.
Her high-pitched squeals were soon joined by his loud grunts. Then the mattress began squeaking as they bounced up and down. And finally, the headboard began banging against the wall. From next door came a muffled voice, and a the sound of a palm slapping the wall urging them to keep it down.
Janelle and Tony burst out laughing.
"Something different?" she asked through giggles.
"Let me take you from behind," he suggested.
He disentangled from between her legs, and she leaned forward and loudly slurped his slimy cock into her mouth several time before flipping back over onto her hands and knees. Her pretty little ass waved back and forth as he repositioned himself. Grabbing an ass cheek in each of his beefy paws, he thrust hard and buried himself in her swollen pussy.
"Ooof," she gasped, throwing her head back.
Releasing her ass, he grabbed a thick handful of her hair and began hammering away, the sounds of their slapping flesh now filling the room. She was grunting and squealing, and her large breasts were swaying wildly beneath her.
He leaned forward and let a thick gob of spit drip down into her butt crack.
"Ewww," she exclaimed. "Why'd you..."
But before she could complete the question, he answered it, coating his thumb in saliva and plunging it into her ass.
She growled ferally and began to shudder in passion.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
PART1
"Oh baby, you're not going to make me go to that stupid thing, are you?"
I looked up to see my wife, Janelle, giving me a pouty look.
"Why not, honey? I went to your stupid high college reunion. And that was in Buttfuck, Iowa."
"Yeah, but at least my friends don't hate you."
"My friends don't hate you."
"No, they just think I'm a dumb bimbo who somehow seduced you."
"I can't see how they could think you're dumb. You probably make more than all of them combined."
"Uh huh, I'm sure working on Wall Street really goes over well with your Beatnik crowd. But regardless of anything else, I'm still the dumb, Midwestern, state college girl not a big-city Ivy Leaguer like the rest of you."
"You're just being silly. I swear, they don't think of you like that."
But, of course, they did. It was my tenth year reunion from Brown. And my friends, all dyed-in-the-wool liberals, still had a lot of weird attitudes about people from 'flyover country.' And it didn't help that Janelle was typecast by her looks. Blond-haired, blue-eyed, and large-breasted she could have easily passed for a party girl. The fact that she had been salutatorian at her high college, earned a full scholarship to University of Rhode Island for grades and music, and worked like a dog her whole life did little to dispel first impressions.
The reaction when I started dating Janelle after meeting her in a Providence bar one summer was mild jealousy from my male friends, and loud disappointment from my female friends. I always figured that getting them together would make them close. They would see she wasn't just a pretty face, and she would see that my friends were not just East Coast snobs, but it never really worked out.
The truth is, my friends were not snobby per se, but rather a combination of immature, insecure, and emo. My best friend Tara was always whining about not having a boyfriend, but she was also always making fun of how Janelle's hair and makeup were always perfect. Celeste was always complaining about having a belly, but also made fun of Janelle's obsessive workout routine.
But damn it, it was my tenth anniversary reunion, and I hadn't seen the old gang in a while, and I wanted to share the evening with my wife.. and yeah, I liked showing her off as well.
I managed to talk Janelle into going, and actually we had a great day at Homecoming. It was fun seeing the campus again, and I even dropped by to see some old professors. We ran into a few friends, but everybody was mostly flitting about. That evening, we were going to get together for drinks and a dinner. Janelle and I were staying downtown, and made plans to meet up with Tara early at the hotel bar since she'd been working all day.
When I told Janelle the plans, she just sighed.
"What?"
"Tara hates me the most. You know that right?"
"You're imagining things."
She shook her head and laughed. "Really, Dave?"
"Look, she's an old friend."
"Did you ever sleep with her?"
"Tara? God no." I hesitated. "What.. are you jealous?"
She laughed. "I sorta wish you had. You know Tara had a crush on you, right? She probably still thinks you're the one who got away."
"That's crazy talk."
"No, it isn't. Girls can sense these things. And every time I've met Tara it's been the same thing. She hates me because she thinks I am the cheap slut that stole you from her."
"Honey, you are far from cheap," I said with a smirk.
She slapped me. "Just remember, you owe me for this."
We met at the bar, and Tara was the same Tara as always. Smart and generous, and slightly unkempt and overweight, and funny and whiny all at the same time. She gave Janelle a hug, but both the girls were more than a little stiff. But still we caught up, in a way that you can only do face to face no matter how many Facebook posts you read. Tara was in a dead-end, poorly paid, but emotionally satisfying job with a non-profit. She was still friends with a lot of the old crew. And she was still single.
After a couple of drinks, Tara was going on about how hard it is to meet men. Going on and on and on. I could remember these rants from back in college, and ten years on, they had only gotten longer and more bitter.
Finally, Janelle had enough. "Oh, Jesus, Tara. How is it that you could be a gender studies major and know so little about men? You want to meet a man? All you have to be is available."
Tara sneered. "Oh sure, if you get all tarted up like a beauty queen, you can. But I'd like to meet a guy who isn't just looking for a pretty face."
Janelle looked over at me and shrugged. "I'm going to get a breath of fresh air. Give me your sweater."
I watched her walk away and then turned back to Tara. "That wasn't very nice."
"I'm sorry. But she just doesn't know what its like. Guys are always falling for girls like her, not matter how bitchy they are."
"Janelle is not a bitch. She's the sweetest..."
Tara put her hand on my forearm. "I'm not saying she isn't," Tara lied. "I am just saying it is different for normal girls."
We changed the subject and reminisced about college for a while. Suddenly this woman sat down in Janelle's seat.
"Hey, that's my wife's..."
She looked me in the eyes and giggled.
"Janelle?"
"In the flesh."
She'd totally changed her appearance. Her hair, usually flowing past her shoulders in golden waves was pulled back into a sloppy bun, the kind women wear to go to Walmart or tend the garden. She'd taken out her contacts, and was wearing her decidedly non-designer glasses. She'd removed her makeup and added some dark circles under her eyes. And wearing my formless sweater made her look downright frumpy.
Tara shot her a dark look. "What is this shit?"
Janelle smiled sweetly. "Let's do a gender studies experiment. Pick a man in the bar. Any man."
"Well, sure, you can pick up a guy if you offer to fuck him the bathroom or some shit."
"Tara, I'm not trying to show you up. I just want to show you something. You pick a guy, and then you can sit next to me. And if I do anything untoward to get his attention, then you call me on it. But I'm going to show you how easy it is to meet men."
"Honey, let's not do this," I interjected.
"Oh come on Dave, it'll be fun. Just play along."
I sighed and nodded.
Tara scanned the bar. "That one," she said, point to a middle aged guy in a suit at the bar. He was a big guy, over six feet tall, and barrel chested. His hair was thinning, but he was clean shaven. Lighter and younger he would probably have been ruggedly handsome. I have no idea why Tara picked him. But she did.
Jenelle instructed us to get seats at the bar next to him, so we could listen in, and then after a few minutes, she followed and squeezed between us and him.
She looked up at a hockey game on TV. "What's the score?" She asked him.
He looked over at Janelle, and she apparently didn't make much of an impression. "I dunno," he said. "Wasn't really watching the game."
She continued to watch TV quietly, ostensibly waiting for the bartender to take her order.
The guy turned back toward her. "Are you a hockey fan?"
"Naw," she replied lightly. "I was just curious."
"Are you from around her?"
"No, up from New York for the weekend, visiting some friends."
"Yeah, I'm down Boston on business."
They talked like that for a while. Idle chit chat. They talked about New York vs. Boston. About work. About the best restaurants in town. His name was Tony and he seemed like a nice guy. Smart and sardonic. There was no overt flirting, not at first. Just two people, comfortable in their own skin chatting.
But then after a while, I guess she grew on him because he started getting more interested. He complimented her eyes -- her glasses did little to hide them. She asked him if he worked out. He bought her a couple of drinks. They moved in closer to each other. I started getting uneasy. After a while, he checked his watch and then sighed.
"What's the matter," she cooed.
"I… I have to meet some people for dinner. Business." He paused. She pouted. "But I really like you," he paused. She smiled. "And well, since we're both from out of town."
She looked at him expectantly. He took her hand.
"I'd like to show you a good time," he finally said, taking her hand and moving it to his crotch.
"Oh my," she giggled, "is that all you?"
He took out his room key and placed it on the bar. "I need to go. But I'll be back around 11:00, maybe 11:30. Come visit me. Room 1246."
"Sounds like fun," she replied in a sultry voice.
He leaned in and kissed her. A lingering embrace. She returned the kiss.
He walked away. Janelle turned toward us. Tara stared at my wife in shock, and I guess I did too.
She put her hand on my shoulder. "Sorry about the kiss, baby, it happened so fast, and I didn't see a graceful way out of it." She waved the key at Tara. "There you go. Nice guy. You picked him. He's smart and employed. And all I needed to do was ask about a game he wasn't even watching."
"Well sure, if all you want is a one night stand."
Janelle sighed. "There are worse things, you know, especially since I think he's packing. But it would have been easy to get his number and arrange a date instead. I figured you'd be smart enough to get the point."
I stepped in at that point. "Girls, girls, please can you two stop bickering? It is like being at home with my parents," I said trying to lighten things up.
Janelle shook her head. "I'm gonna drop off this thing off at the front desk," she said pointing to the key, "and go freshen up."
She came back a few minutes later, once again put together, and returned my sweater. Happily it was time to get going and meet the others, which put an end to Tara and Janelle's squabbling.
I had a good time that evening, though I was worried about Janelle. We ended up going to this cool Mexican-Japanese fusion place. The food was great, but my friends were being cold fish, especially after Tara circulated what must have been an embellished version of the events in the bar. Janelle ended up excusing herself several times to check out the decorations and the band that was playing out in the garden area. She was pretty quiet, and I could tell she was looking forward to the evening being over. I knew she wasn't having fun, and I kept meaning to leave when another old friend would suddenly appear. But I figured she'd forgive me.
We went back to the hotel. I'd had a little too much to drink. Given how the evening had gone, I figured I wasn't going to get any in any case. But she surprised me. When we got into our hotel room, Janelle casually slipped off her jeans and panties and walked around the room in just her clingy sweater while brushing her teeth.
"You look good enough to eat," I offered.
"You talk too much," she replied with a smirk.
I dropped to my knees and buried my face in her crotch. In addition to her other charms, Janelle has the tastiest pussy I've ever had. She's always fresh and clean, her juices just a touch tangy. I lapped away for a while as she ran her hands through my hair.
"I want you," she rasped.
I stumbled back onto the bed, and she roughly tugged at my pants. I was rock hard, and the moment my cock popped out, she was on top of me, impaling herself on my member. We fucked like that for a few minutes until she gasped in passion, collapsing onto my chest.
We slowly shed the rest of our clothes, my dick inside her the whole time, and then resumed our lovemaking in earnest. She was very wet and she fucked me hungrily, pumping her hips eagerly to meet my thrusts, her tongue jamming deep into my mouth. I was drunk enough that it took me a while time to cum, but Janelle didn't seem to mind even though it went on longer than usual. When I finished, it felt like a dam giving way, and dizzy from drink and exertion I collapsed onto the bed. We cuddled together for a while and drifted off to sleep.
I am not sure what woke me. Sex and booze usually knock me out, but good. But I guess being in a strange bed made me sleep lightly. I looked at the clock. It was 1:30am. I felt next to me and realized Janelle wasn't there. For a moment, I assumed she was in the bathroom, but then the sound that had woken me popped into my head. It was definitely the door to the hallway. I got up, and yanked on a pair of jeans from the floor.
Sure enough, she wasn't in the bathroom. And then like a shot, I had a weird vision. The bar. The man. The room key. Room 1246.
I went out into the hallway just in time to hear the elevator door chiming as it shut. I turned, spotted the stairs and sprinted up two flights to the twelfth floor. The door to room 1246 was slowly shutting on its mechanical arm, and I reached out at the last second to stop it from latching shut. I pressed my ear to the door.
"What, what, who is it?" Came a scratchy voice.
I saw the light go on.
"Who are you?" Continued the puzzled voice.
"I thought you were going to show me a good time. Sorry I'm late," Janelle answered.
I hear him sit up on his bed. "Damn, girl, you clean up nice."
I cracked the door open. She'd moved out of the entrance and into the bedroom. The room was lit, but dimly. He must have only had the reading light on over this bed. I slid inside and silently shut the door. I got down on my knees and crawled a few feet to get a view into the room. He was sitting on his bed, in his boxers, and she was standing before him in a short, thin, hotel robe which she holding together at the waist. Wordlessly, she released her grip, letting the robe come open, exposing her generous cleavage and closing trimmed blond muff.
"If I'd know you were hiding a body like that, I'd have ditched my dinner plans," he said with a smile.
She stepped closer. Tony reached out and slid a finger up her inner thigh, and when she didn't flinch, he pressed it up inside her. She gasped softly, her hips swaying sexily. He pulled out and rubbed his fingertips together.
"Somebody's been a naughty girl already."
She grinned saucily.
He pressed his finger into her mouth and she licked it clean. He pumped his finger back into her snatch several times, each time pulling out and feeding her a cocktail of her juices and my cum, which she swallowed eagerly. It was a sexy show, and Tony was enjoying it enough that he was stroking his rapidly thickening member through his boxers.
"Why did you think I'd appreciate sloppy seconds?" He asked.
She smirked. "I've never known a man to turn down a well-lubed hole."
He laughed and pressed a second finger into her pussy. "You're a hot little slut, aren't you?"
"Let me see what you're rubbing," she replied in a sultry tone.
As he pulled down his shorts, his cock sprang out, standing at attention in his lap. It wasn't some porno-style stunt cock, but he was definitely well-endowed.
"Mmmm, that's a lovely prick," cooed my wife as she dropped to her knees between his thighs.
Janelle is a world class cock-sucker. I hate to think about how she became that way. But the truth is, she could give lessons, and now she proceeded to pull out all the stops for Tony.
She started by licking his rod all over, getting it nice and wet, as she massaged his balls with her hands. Then she switched, sucking his sack into her mouth as he squished her hands up and down his thick shaft. She licked her way back up the underside of his cock, and then circled his cockhead with her tongue.
"Fuck, that's good," he growled, running his hands through her silky hair.
But she was just getting started. She took him deep into her mouth and bobbed her head up and down as her hands continued to caress his shaft and balls. He began pumping his hips, trying to force himself deeper into her throat, but he was too big to fit all the way.
She rose up and kissed his belly, and then leaned forward and pressed his cock between her teardrop breasts, fucking his cock with her tits.
She looked him in the eyes. "If I finish you off, will you be able to get hard again to fuck me?"
"Baby, my dick'll get hard just being in the same room as you."
She pumping his cock between her tits a few more times, and then rubbed his cockhead against each of her nipples in turn, coating them with his pre-cum. Then she dropped down again and swallowed him deeply, fucking his dick with her mouth. He was moaning louder now, obviously getting close. Keeping his cockhead in her mouth, she started pumping his shaft roughly, wetly with both hands.
"Oh God," he growled loudly. His hand grabbed a firm handful of her hair and held her in place. Not that he needed to because Janelle was eagerly sucking down his seed all on her own. I could see her swallowing gob after gob as he twitched repeatedly in passion.
When he was finally done, she straightened up, her hands still gently fondling his shaft.
"How long were you saving that up?" She giggled.
He laughed. "A few days. Maybe more, I guess."
"That'll be enough protein to last me a week," she replied. Though she immediately belied that comment by swooping down and lapping up every stray drop of jism that appeared from his slit.
He softened noticeably, and Janelle took the opportunity to swallow him whole, taking him balls deep into her mouth. She worked his cock slowly. Long, deep, wet strokes that quickly brought him back online. In less than five minutes, his member was again rigid, jutting out proudly.
"I need it inside me," she hissed and climbed into his lap.
He grabbed her hips and roughly impaled her on his cock. She threw back her head and gasped loudly.
"God, you're big," she moaned as she ground into him.
They fucked hard. He was a powerful man, bouncing her up and down on his cock like a ragdoll. His hands were all over her. He squeezed and slapped her ass, pulling the cheeks apart and tickling her asshole. He mauled her breasts, sucking her nipples into his mouth until the areolae were puffy, wet, and swollen. He kissed her hard, jamming his tongue into her mouth, and bit her neck hard enough to leave marks.
And she loved it. She was squealing like a porn star, grinding her hips into him to meet his thrusts, her arms wrapped around his head, her eyes shut tight in concentration.
Without warning he grabbed her by the ass and flipped her onto her back on the bed. She obligingly pulled her knees to her chest, her feet pointed toward the ceiling, opening herself completely for him. He climbed on top and began to jackhammer his thick cock into her pretty little snatch.
Her high-pitched squeals were soon joined by his loud grunts. Then the mattress began squeaking as they bounced up and down. And finally, the headboard began banging against the wall. From next door came a muffled voice, and a the sound of a palm slapping the wall urging them to keep it down.
Janelle and Tony burst out laughing.
"Something different?" she asked through giggles.
"Let me take you from behind," he suggested.
He disentangled from between her legs, and she leaned forward and loudly slurped his slimy cock into her mouth several time before flipping back over onto her hands and knees. Her pretty little ass waved back and forth as he repositioned himself. Grabbing an ass cheek in each of his beefy paws, he thrust hard and buried himself in her swollen pussy.
"Ooof," she gasped, throwing her head back.
Releasing her ass, he grabbed a thick handful of her hair and began hammering away, the sounds of their slapping flesh now filling the room. She was grunting and squealing, and her large breasts were swaying wildly beneath her.
He leaned forward and let a thick gob of spit drip down into her butt crack.
"Ewww," she exclaimed. "Why'd you..."
But before she could complete the question, he answered it, coating his thumb in saliva and plunging it into her ass.
She growled ferally and began to shudder in passion.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
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