the right price.
I helped Mike undress, encouraging him in his bumbling excitement. He had sandy blond hairs curling over his chest and a thick stomach that told me he liked to party. His cock was already hard and made me give a silent sigh of relief. This man wouldn’t be breaking any girls in half anytime soon — yours truly included.
I made a show of drizzling lube over his cock, working my hands over his slippery shaft until he was breathless with desire.
“I want to put it in now,” he panted. “I don’t want to wait a second longer.”
I got on all fours and presented myself to him. He slipped off my orange panties and pulled my cheeks apart.
“Would you look at that,” he remarked, spanking me a little. I made tiny sounds of appreciation. I had to sell it.
I braced myself as I felt Mike position himself at my hole. I knew from experience that tensing up would do unnecessary harm. Against all reason, I forced my muscles to relax to accommodate the intrusion. When he was fully in, past my tight ring of muscle, I let out a low moan for his benefit. The way his hands trembled as he held onto my hips told me everything. He was barely hanging on — me, the room, the lube, the anal, the entire situation was a pleasure overload. He was in sincere danger of coming much earlier than he would’ve wanted.
“You feel amazing,” I breathed, arching my back. “I want you to give it to me.”
Mike gave a sharp intake of breath. “Oh, I’ll give it to you, all right,” he said, grunting as he withdrew and pushed forward again. The lube I’d applied in the bathroom was more than holding its own against his ragged rhythm.
“Fuck me, I’m gonna come,” Mike said almost in wonderment.
Already? I moaned, long and low.
“Let me come with you,” I said, making a show of reaching back to rub my clitoris. I could barely feel Mike in my body, which was a blessing.
With an enormous groan, he came, filling me with a wetness I’d become familiar with a long time ago. I cried out as I felt it, twisting my fist into the bed sheets while I faked the orgasm. It wasn’t the first time, and I was certain it wouldn’t be the last. Men liked the illusion of having pleased a woman while pleasing themselves.
He withdrew from my body with a pop and stumbled off the bed.
“You okay, there?” I asked, my eyelids lowered.
“Just gotta hit the bathroom,” he said, jerking his thumb toward the door. “Be right back.”
As he got up to use the bathroom, my eyes darted over to the little side table where he’d set his phone before our encounter. I had to delete any photos he might have taken to protect myself and the nightclub. The moment the door shut, I lunged for it, sweeping it open with my phone and finding the photos without much trouble. None of us girls had a cell phone, but I wasn’t ignorant of them. Mike’s seemed intuitive enough.
I resisted the urge to hiss in between my teeth. How had he gotten these shots? The sneaky bastard had even taken pictures while we had sex. I deleted all of them, putting the phone back on the table just in time — Mike walked back into the room, the toilet flushing.
“Let me go get cleaned up,” I said, hopping off the bed. “Then we can go back downstairs and join the festivities.”
“I don’t think there could be anything more festive than what we did up here,” Mike said, grinning and scratching his crotch.
“You’re right,” I said, trying not to show my distaste.
“Care for some company in the shower?” he asked.
“That would be lovely,” I lied. I ended up blowing him in the shower, satisfied at least with the knowledge that he couldn’t take pictures under the streaming water.
When we both got dressed and ready to go, I took him back downstairs. All of his friends applauded him like he was a hero returning from war. I covered my face in a show of shyness,
I helped Mike undress, encouraging him in his bumbling excitement. He had sandy blond hairs curling over his chest and a thick stomach that told me he liked to party. His cock was already hard and made me give a silent sigh of relief. This man wouldn’t be breaking any girls in half anytime soon — yours truly included.
I made a show of drizzling lube over his cock, working my hands over his slippery shaft until he was breathless with desire.
“I want to put it in now,” he panted. “I don’t want to wait a second longer.”
I got on all fours and presented myself to him. He slipped off my orange panties and pulled my cheeks apart.
“Would you look at that,” he remarked, spanking me a little. I made tiny sounds of appreciation. I had to sell it.
I braced myself as I felt Mike position himself at my hole. I knew from experience that tensing up would do unnecessary harm. Against all reason, I forced my muscles to relax to accommodate the intrusion. When he was fully in, past my tight ring of muscle, I let out a low moan for his benefit. The way his hands trembled as he held onto my hips told me everything. He was barely hanging on — me, the room, the lube, the anal, the entire situation was a pleasure overload. He was in sincere danger of coming much earlier than he would’ve wanted.
“You feel amazing,” I breathed, arching my back. “I want you to give it to me.”
Mike gave a sharp intake of breath. “Oh, I’ll give it to you, all right,” he said, grunting as he withdrew and pushed forward again. The lube I’d applied in the bathroom was more than holding its own against his ragged rhythm.
“Fuck me, I’m gonna come,” Mike said almost in wonderment.
Already? I moaned, long and low.
“Let me come with you,” I said, making a show of reaching back to rub my clitoris. I could barely feel Mike in my body, which was a blessing.
With an enormous groan, he came, filling me with a wetness I’d become familiar with a long time ago. I cried out as I felt it, twisting my fist into the bed sheets while I faked the orgasm. It wasn’t the first time, and I was certain it wouldn’t be the last. Men liked the illusion of having pleased a woman while pleasing themselves.
He withdrew from my body with a pop and stumbled off the bed.
“You okay, there?” I asked, my eyelids lowered.
“Just gotta hit the bathroom,” he said, jerking his thumb toward the door. “Be right back.”
As he got up to use the bathroom, my eyes darted over to the little side table where he’d set his phone before our encounter. I had to delete any photos he might have taken to protect myself and the nightclub. The moment the door shut, I lunged for it, sweeping it open with my phone and finding the photos without much trouble. None of us girls had a cell phone, but I wasn’t ignorant of them. Mike’s seemed intuitive enough.
I resisted the urge to hiss in between my teeth. How had he gotten these shots? The sneaky bastard had even taken pictures while we had sex. I deleted all of them, putting the phone back on the table just in time — Mike walked back into the room, the toilet flushing.
“Let me go get cleaned up,” I said, hopping off the bed. “Then we can go back downstairs and join the festivities.”
“I don’t think there could be anything more festive than what we did up here,” Mike said, grinning and scratching his crotch.
“You’re right,” I said, trying not to show my distaste.
“Care for some company in the shower?” he asked.
“That would be lovely,” I lied. I ended up blowing him in the shower, satisfied at least with the knowledge that he couldn’t take pictures under the streaming water.
When we both got dressed and ready to go, I took him back downstairs. All of his friends applauded him like he was a hero returning from war. I covered my face in a show of shyness,
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