Not What She Imagined
Written by Laurel
Sunday, 7 February 2010 11:23
The deliciously dirty Mr. Morgan returns with another story. This one is much shorter and much more visceral than the last. I highly recommend it. 
Not What She Imagined
This wasn’t quite what she had imagined. Looking back, she wasn’t exactly sure what she had imagined, but this wasn’t it.
Four hours ago, she had bided her time in a Starbucks and met someone who was less than a friend but more than a stranger in a nice, safe, public, well lit place. They had conversed for quite a long time online, and there had been some phone conversations, but she hadn’t really prepared herself for this part of things. They had agreed that meeting somewhere safe for some conversation, then moving to dinner and to separate hotel rooms would be for the best. At least on day one.
So the conversation went well and dinner in a local steakhouse was enjoyable. The wine (for her) and whiskey (for him) that served as dessert wasn’t anything to write home about, but she had certainly consumed worse. The flush in her cheeks, though, had less to do with the wine and more to do with the fact that his hand was creeping up the inside of her thigh at their somewhat concealed dinner table. As she tried to play cool, he would reach over and pinch her breast – sometimes on her nipple, sometimes on the side, sometimes openly, and sometimes discreetly. It wasn’t long until she was acutely aware that both of her nipples were straining against the fabric of her bra and would have been clearly visible against her shirt had they not been in a room that was mostly lit by several small fireplaces.
His fingers made their way all the way up her thighs, and she parted her legs in a move that she knew betrayed her desire to be fucked – whether by finger, tongue, or cock – but that she couldn’t have stopped if she wanted to. As two of his fingers slid over the length of her pussy, she bit her bottom lip and held her breath, eyelids fluttering and waited to feel his skin push inside of her. Instead, he simply removed his hand, took the check, paid, and walked out of the bar.
She collected herself and hurried out to meet him, and things went kind of fast from there. She remembered getting in his car. She remembered him pushing her skirt up and pulling her panties down, nudging her thighs apart and instructing her to fuck herself on the drive to the hotel. She remembered not hesitating to shove a second finger into herself when they pulled up to the fifty-something gentleman in minivan.
She remembered thinking that a walk through a hotel lobby and a ride up three floors on an elevator had never seemed so interminably long in her life. And she remembered opening the door to the hotel room, and wondering where he would fuck her first. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt, but before she could slide it over her hips, his hand was pulling her hair sharply, guiding her down to the floor..not her first choice.
Laying face-first on carpet that was threadbare in places, she felt the weight of him on her back, pulling her shirt up and her skirt down, exposing her ass beneath him. Still laying on her, she felt his weight shifting and suddenly there was flesh on flesh as his straining cock was pressed against her ass. She was momentarily panicked by the thought that he was going to fuck her ass without warning, but he surprised her pleasantly by shoving the entire length of himself into her pussy. She was slicker than she realized, and he didn’t have to push hard to find himself completely inside of her.
She tried to squirm, tried to roll her hips, tried to get him to fuck her. His weight, though, wasn’t letting her move. The restriction was frustrating her but wasn’t altogether unpleasant. In this situation, she was his to use as he wanted. As dangerous as that might have been, she wasn’t going to fight too hard.
After what seemed like minutes, but was probably half of a minute, he started to move. Slowly withdrawing from her cunt and easing back into it. She moaned hoarsely when he withdrew completely, leaving her pussy open and wet and wanting.
The moan turned into a short, shrill scream when he used the lubrication from her cunt to force his cock into her ass. Once he was inside of her ass, he held nothing back. He gripped both of her wrists and held them behind her head, anchored by a handful of her hair. He was inching them forward with every thrust inside of her, and between the shock, the pleasant pain, his weight, and the lack of available hands, she was simply trapped.
She could feel her breasts spilling out of her bra and being crushed against the floor beneath them. She could feel the threadbare carpet biting into her knees every time he scooted them forward by fucking her ass. She could feel the tears rolling down her cheek as his thrusts got more and more violent with each passing second.
He released her wrists in favor of simply gripping the fabric of her shirt and fucking her faster and faster. Before she realized what she was doing, she was pressing up against the floor and fighting against him. She could feel a weak orgasm building inside of her, but her breasts where hurting, her clothes were a tangled, constricting mess, and her legs were cramping. The carpet stunk, her skirt had found its way around her knees, and this had caught her so off guard that it was sending her mind in so many directions it was hard to single out the pleasure amongst the humiliation and pain.
She heard him growling, and felt the pressure in her ass grow almost imperceptibly, and that went out the window. She felt her pussy flood with new moisture and the only thing she could think about was his semen in her ass. She began grunting in rhythm with his thrusts, and with every profanity he spewed into her ear, her level of arousal grew.
“Slut.”
“Fucking cunt.”
“Bitch.”
“Whore.”
“Fucking little bitch in heat.”
“Desperate cunt.”
Then she felt him arch his back to push just a little further into her and her ass was full of his cum. He held still long enough for his cock to begin to soften inside of her and he withdrew. She couldn’t help but smile as she started to get up, anticipating another round of physicality with him. She couldn’t help but feel that smile melt away into a moan when he gripped two handfuls of her hair and pulled her head back down to the floor and grinned at her before straddling her back and forcing four fingers into her pussy.
That was so hot to read. My pussy lips are swollen and there is a puddle in the chair.